There’s something disturbingly dark and heartbreaking about a kid pleading with an adult he just bonded with to save his life, beating on his face in a justified tantrum-esque fit of emotion, still trusting and hoping and wanting to believe, seeing himself in that adult;
Only to pull off the mask from being pushed away and realize they’re not the same and Tarak feels that sentiment. Tarak isn’t the same as King but a hunter who wears the dead faces of slain children who were like King, and whom he intends to add King to that list as another trophy for someone to wear; Just as the sibling in King’s hands was for Tarak.
The horror as it truly sinks in for King that Tarak isn’t like him, it was all fake, and that Tarak is wearing the skull of a murdered sibling; Even as the unmasked truth uncomfortably looms over the poor kid. Like it was still easy for King to deny the truth that it was all a lie when these people who were so kind to him earlier still resemble him; But then Tarak’s unmasking is followed by that of the rest, just to hammer in the utter shattering of King’s fantasy and dream, tearing apart any last vestiges of hope or semblance of denial. It was all a lie, and King’s perfect world that he’d just gotten comes crumbling down around him like the finger portal he destroys.
Like the sequence and symbolism of it all really was just chilling, as was a literal child being hunted down like an animal to be sacrificed by a cult and begging to be spared, desperately trying to bring up the bond he thought was made only to realize it was never there, or worse, still means nothing to Tarak’s fanaticism. All that bonding from before meant nothing as they still turned on King just for being who he is. The betrayal would really break a person and it’s no wonder that when all is said and done and King has the moment to breathe and reflect...
His first instinct is that he just wants to go home, to a found parent he can trust and who does love him above all else, while clinging to his found sister for support and comfort. Sniffling and wiping away both that accursed mark of the Titan Trappers, a symbol of pride and kinship now a painted target, as well as the tears that keep coming and won’t go away regardless.
matilda by harry styles are for the ones who can’t reciprocate love because they don’t know how to. for the people who care more about grades than anything else even though they’re burnt out to a crisp. for the ones who are unintentionally the problem. the ones who love too much and get nothing in return. the ones who need a hug from their comfort characters. the ones who love the night time because it’s when they can truly be alone and be themselves. the ones who try to do something for them self but just get laughed/scolded at. the ones who joke about their pain to cope with it. the ones that just want everything to be okay.
[ Image ID : You know what? Writing fluff just reminds me how much I miss writing angst. // End ID ]
Why can’t future Emmet explain himself? Like is it a case of “If I say anything I’ll cause a paradox” hell isn’t he a paradox?
a what if situation
- Emmet won’t tell Ingo bc he already knows he would disagree with his plan
- Ingo’s ignorance is necessary to keep him from acting out
- Emmet doesn’t like his plan either. That will not stop him from completing it
Also, future emmet possessing his past self’s body is celebi’s solution to a paradox! If he had a separate body and was existing at the same time and place as his past self, then it would be a different story
Moonknight boys x fem!reader
Summary: As you were roaming the streets, drunk and barely able to stand you were struck and thrown into a car you did not recognise. Jake immediately sense something is wrong.
Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse, PTSD, Jake Marc and Steven are very protective in this. Torture??
Today was a friday, everyone went out on fridays especially at your age. You’re 23 with a roomate that had 3 different bodies inside of him, not that it mattered to you in the slighest in fact it was fun. Steven hated when you went out because his paranoia would kick in but you knew it was only because he cared about you. Marc would always have to think about it, at first he usually says no immediately because he knew of the dangers and he never wanted you to get hurt but as a few minutes pass he’d remember you’re just a woman wanting to have fun causing him to give in and let you out but not before scolding you to be back before midnight. But Jake?, he would go out partying with you if you wanted him to. Although he was a very unhinged man and would kill any guy that even tried to get your attention. He still had a soft side.
Today Jake was fronting, it was around 5pm and you planned on leaving by 6pm but your hair was playing up and it was pissing you off. You let out a groan when your hair kept going frizzy as you tried to straighten it, Jake had pushed open your bedroom door with a worried look “you alright honey?” Your fustrations completely washed away as you smiled at him “I’m okay it’s just my hair” you noticed how his breathing evened out as if he was relieved “Do you need help?…Im not the best at doing hair but i’d like to try” you want to say no because you’d be late to meet your friends but Jake was never the type to be affectionate so when he was, you could never say no.
You let out a laugh when Jake got up scoffing “i cant do it” he was genuinely mad at himself. You rose from your seat laughing and looked in the mirror immediately bursting into tears of laughter “Oh my god” Jake gave you a scolding look but you could tell it was taking all his will power not to smile at your laugh “it- its fucking amazing” Your hand gripped the edge of the dresser steadying yourself as you examined the 3 pigtails sticking outside your head. For a second you felt your chest tightening, you knew you were about to let out the deadliest laugh ever until Jake pointed at you “dont you dare, i tried my best. Marc would do worse” with that you let it out dropping to the floor laughing again “i know” Jake looked at the mirror and smiled when he saw Marc sticking his middle finger up at him.
Finally you calmed down and took out the hair ties deciding to just put it up in a high ponytail, checking the time you saw that it had just passed 6:01 and you hurried to your roomate who was now sitting at the coffee table with a glass of whiskey and a newspaper beside him, kissing him on the cheek “When do you want me back?” Jake raised an eyebrow at you “Just be back before 3am alright? Stay safe and have fun” You smiled at him and you both said your “i love you” before you shut the door.
The cab driver wasnt the most polite person you’ve ever met but then again the poor guy has probably dealt with alot of drunk people, drunk couples and rude men. You tipped him £20 since you actually felt bad for the guy, his eye lit up a little and he smiled at you “God bless you” you nodded with a smile as you slid out of the car, your friends came rushing to you with their arms open “heyyy” Aria greeted you with a kiss on the cheek as Kath grabbed you by your arm “lets go, I already have drinks waiting for us and dont worry” she winked “i have someone watching the drinks” you and Aria shook your heads and laughed knowing she’d only spend the night with the new guy she found an interest in.
The building was rammed with people dancing and drinking so you’d occasionally get bumped into even when you’re simply sat down and honestly it started to work up some anxiety. Kath had gone off with the mysterious guy within minutes leaving just you and Aria laughing and joking about random things “So…is your roomate still single?” She gave you a side eye sipping her drink in a mocking way making you hum and squint at her “he is single and he will stay like that until they get my approval” you shrugged your shoulders smiling “My bestfriend…especially Steven doesnt deserve some cheap whore” you looked down at your drink “They all deserve happiness not…” you thought back to when that weird guy with long hair told Steven “theres chaos in you” causing you to sigh “forget it, lets just have fun yeah?” Aria nodded and you were both making your way to the main area for a dance. You liked them, you knew the minute you started fantasising about them when one of them would come out of the shower with a towel wrapped around their waist.
2 hours passed and you ended up on some chair in the bar next to a passed out Aria, it was only 9pm and people were already leaving. You were dizzy, there’s no doubt you had alot to drink but it only hit you now that you had no ride home. You gave the money in your pocket to that Cab driver and spent the rest on drinks. Aria obviously cant drunk drive so you had no other choice but to call jake. You wanted to go home anyway, you were uncomfortable. Throughout the dancing you noticed a face you knew you had seen before but you couldnt put your finger on it, he kept staring at you and not once did he try and hide it. Now that Aria was passed out drunk you were left on your own, pulling out your phone wiping away the splashes of alcohol that had gotten onto your it.
Still no answer.
Your heart started thumping, you reached over to Aria and tried shaking her awake but it had absolutely no use. You called over the bartender who you knew was very close with Marc, the obvious suggestion would be to ask him for a lift but he couldnt leave, not until midnight. “Hey frank, could you do me a favour and let Aria crash at your place once your shift is over? I need to get home” Frank rubbed the towel between his hands, flinging it over his shoulder “Of course princess, you sure with going home alone? Its dark and i have noticed that asshole staring at you all night” he paused for a moment “you know what Marc would do if anything happened to you darlin” you sighed and nodded “i know, but staying here is so much more nerve racking i cant explain it” he nods and makes his way over to you placing a soft hand on your cheek kissing your forehead. Frank castle was like your dad, he was extremely protective of you but knew he couldnt control you. Jake, Marc and Steven wouldnt approve of it unless it was for good reasons. You leaned into his kiss and then moved away to leave “If you can please try and ring him he isnt picking up, tell him im on on my way home” frank smiled sadly at you “be safe kiddo”. you stumbled your way out of the bar and onto the dark street breathing in the fresh air “fuck” you muttered digging your hands into your pockets.
You stood staring at the buildings in front of you for a while before rubbing your eyes and starting your walk home. It only took a few corners before you felt the sudden hairs on the back of your neck stick up, you were being watched. You could literally feel it. Your drunken state didnt allow you to react as fast as you should, you shouldve ran the moment you felt eyes on you but you didnt. And that’s exactly why youre now being shoved into the back of a car with a bag over your head, whoever it was had hit you with a blunt object because you were completely unconscious with blood seeping out the side of your head. The person was ‘respectful’ enough to lift the bag off and place his sweater against your head slowing the bleeding.
Jake felt his heart sink out of nowhere, he was simply watching tv with his arm slung around the arm rest. He sat up quickly looking over at the mirror, Steven stood there wringing his fingers together “you felt that too huh?” Steven nodded, his face flushed with worry. He quickly stood up and went over to his phone that was charging in the kitchen and lifted it to see the multiple missed calls from you, his eye twitched and his hand clutched the phone “shit…shit shit shit” Jake rushed to grab his jacket while pressing on your name letting his phone ring just for it to go straight to voicemail. He stopped moving. Not once in your life had you not picked up his call even when you were asleep. Something was wrong, he felt it, Steven felt it and so did Marc. Marc could feel what Jake was feeling and it only made him want to throw up in fear, Jake felt sick, he felt like his heart was actually melting and forming a hot pain in his stomach. He doesn’t even know for sure that something is wrong but he’s already losing his mind. You’re his bestfriend, yes they all share the same body and blood but he was the one who was fronting when he met you. They all loved you more than anything and would set fire to the world if you asked, but Jake would do literally anything just for a smile.
You groaned, lifting your head to scan the throbbing pain in your head with your fingers only to realise your arms were restrained with chains, you looked down and not to your surprise your ankles were restrained too. Panic spread through you faster than you could blink a second time “hello?” You called out hesitantly but there was silence. It was too silent, it scared you. “Hello?” You called out more sternly, jerking backwards when a guy with long hair and that weird cracking noise his sandals ma- him.. that guy that told steven he had chaos in him thats who it was
“i wont hurt you y/n” he said, his voice rough as if he hasnt slept in decades. “i only need one piece of information and you can leave” he walked closer to you, his odd looking walking stick clacking against the stone floor, your eyes took in his state, he was sweaty, his clothes seemed dirty and that stick had a purple glow to it. As much as you were scared, you were more scared of what jake and the others would do if he finds out about this guy.
The door opened and 3 other men walked in, armed with bats, knife and a golf stick. “Your friend has something very…very important and i’m gonna have to take it back, now i’m aware he will find me. he has a moon God to protect him, but” he ticks “you have absolutely no protection and you are his main priority, you are what he cares about most” The fear you had disappeared and was washed over with anger…rage even. How dare he. Using you as fucking bait.
One of the men stepped forward “Harrow, the girls phone?” he reached into his pocket waving your phone in the air for him to see then placing it back in his pocket. He approached you once again, his finger lifting your head up by your chin but the seething rage that bubbled in you took over, you leaned back gathering your saliva and spitting in his face. Harrow stepped back in the most calm manner wiping your spit off his face with a cloth “That was unnecessary, now you’ve only made things harder for yourself little girl” he shook his head turning away from you and mumbling something on his way out, as soon as the door shut his men strode forward the first to connect with you was the golf stick against your knee making you scream in pain “GET THE F-mph” You were silenced as a piece of cloth was shoved into your mouth. The actions repeated until one of them stuck you across the same spot on your head as of earlier knocking you unconscious.
Jake ran into the bar “Frank….FRANK!” He shouted, Frank rushed towards Jake with a concerned look “what is it? Wheres…where’s y/n Jake” He watched the colour drain from his face “she’s not here?” Frank shook his head “no, she left to go home..she didnt make it home did she” Jakes breathing turned into heaves of anger and before he knew it he was throwing a chair straight through the nearest window shattering both objects. “Fuck!” His hands ran through his sweaty curls pacing around the bar “There was a guy, shoulder length hair, old lookin’ he carried a walking stick i-it had purple on it if that helps”
“Harrow. That little bug” khonshu spat. Jake grimaced “puta” was all he grumbled before storming out of the door, Khonshu forced the suit upon Jake so he could move faster. Luckily for you Khonshu knew exactly where you were.
The shock of freezing water being thrown over you made you jump awake, your eyes trailed to the red tinted water that ran down your body from connecting with the wound on your head. “Lets try this again?” Harrow leaned forward “where is the golden scarab” You furrowed your eyebrows “wph?” Harrow smiled at you, removing the cloth so you could speak “what the fuck are you talking about” He clenched his jaw in frustration, suddenly you let out a sickening scream as Harrow dug a thumb into your right knee you could feel the bone move, knowing your knee was shattered.
“I DONT KNOW!” You shouted at him, panting and writhing against the restraints “I dont know i swear”
Again, Harrow stared blankly at you “bring her out” you tilted your head in confusion just for it to snap back up when you saw a bloodied kath being dragged into the centre of the tomb. The man she went away with? Kath was unconscious, she looked like she had been beaten to death and it was making your heart wring. “Y/n I’ll give you one more chance alright?” You stared at him with teary eyes “Where is the scarab” tears streamed down your face and you looked away from him “I really dont know” your chains were instantly detached from you and you were yanked upwards letting out a whimper from your knee. Obviously it was useless as he handed you a knife “kill her” your eyes widened. Your jaw slightly agape “you kill her or i’ll kill you” “then kill me..kath doesn’t deserve this” Harrow chuckled at that “and you do?, you’re more innocent than her” the sound of a gun cocking made you twist your head towards Kaths limp body and the man behind her body aiming a pistol at the back of her head “sorry y/n, but things dont work that way. Just tell me where it is and you can both go home” again you stared at Kath, your ears blocked out what harrow was saying and that was a big mistake. You stood in shock, Harrow sighed in disappointment and nodded. The thing that finally made you snap out of your daze wasnt Harrow forcing you away, it was the ear piercing sound of a gunshot, blood spewing on your arms and a few dots on your chin “you’ll die” you whispered over and over “you’re dead harrow” He smiled, mocking you but you had enough. What exactly where the consequences? You grabbed hold of his arm that was forcing you away and you bit down on it feeling something burst in your mouth, you knew it was blood because of the way he wailed in pain punching you off him.
The men hurried over to Harrow, one of them, a lady, making her way over to you “hey..dont look at that okay? take this” she handed you a key and smiled “go okay” you couldnt respond due to your head buzzing. But you grabbed the key nonetheless and unlocked the chain strapped around your ankles, Harrow screamed at his oblivious men to grab you but it was too late for that you were already out of the tomb sprinting as fast as you could but it wasnt much use, your right leg was broken and it was causing you enough pain to drop to the floor “shit shit” you cursed, quickly laying on your stomach and crawling instead.
“Khonshu” Jake warned, Khonshu had the power to make him faster but he wasnt and Khonshu wouldn’t tell him why all he said was “keep running”. His feet burned from the sand rubbing against his skin, he looked ahead and slowed. There was a body, your shirt, it had to of been you.
Jake picked up the pace again and his heart dropped when he saw it was you. Blood still leaking out of your head colouring the sand, there was a harsh bruise forming on your eye from Harrows punch, you were wet and cold aswell as being covering in your friends blood. “Oh no” he knelt down turning you on your back so he could check your pulse
She is alive Jake, But another hour in this cold will kill her
He nodded his head and lifted you in his arms but he was stopped as 3 men came rushing out of the tomb and towards you, Jake kissed your forehead and laid you back down before easily taking them out. He returned but when he touched you his eyes shot back and he grunted as Marc took over. “Y/n” he cried “y/n get up just open your eyes” no response. Jake was furious that he took over but he didnt blame him. Marc swept you up and carried you back home, the door slammed shut and his suit disolved.
You stirred as you felt your body sinking into something soft but it didn’t comfort you, your eyes went wide and you started thrashing at Marc telling him to leave you alone “i dont know where it is!” Steven immediately fronted and pulled you into his chest “hey hey” you struggled in his grip “it’s okay honey it’s okay you’re safe you’re home” his soft hand stroked the side of your cheek calming you down “it’s Steven” you took a deep breath and looked up at him. Your eyes flooded with tears again and he hushed you, gently laying you back down and covering you in the soft blanket “you’re safe i promise” you curled up against the blanket crying into it while Stevens heart ached at the sight.
Jake fronted after you eventually cried yourself to sleep, he knelt down beside the bed and gently wiped away the blood on your face. You flinched in your sleep and he pulled away “oh cariño” his thumb traced around your eye and he sighed. He was angry at himself for letting you go out ignoring Marcs protests telling him that he had a bad feeling.
i fucking told you it was a bad idea but what did you do jake? You let her out as always…this is your fault
Jake snapped “Dont you fucking dare point any fingers at me amigo, she is our friend not our toy. She goes out if she pleases we do not control her life hijo de puta” Marc shut up immediately, clenching his jaw but walking away again. Steven emerged slowly making eye contact with an angry Jake through the mirror. Marc and Jake always had to compete on who was the bigger man and it always ended in conflict but when it came to steven, both marc and jake found comfort in him.
i-is she okay? I really hope so
Jake smiled weakly at him “i hope so too little amigo” Steven fidgeted with his sleeves staring at you
would it be okay if i front before we sleep? i-i mean you sleep… or me..fuck
He laughed at Stevens rambling and nodded his head “it’s okay Steven, you can front now if you want to” stevie nodded and took over the body saying goodnight to jake and crawling into bed beside you in case you woke up thrashing again.
make you mine | jjk [teaser]
➵ summary; your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. but everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.
pairing; jock!jungkook x f. reader
word count; approx. 20k
content; college au + friends to lovers au, fluff/angst/smut
warnings; will be specified in the final post
a/n; HERE IS A TEASER FOR YOU LOVELY READERS !! i really hope you’ll look forward to this one as this couple already holds a special place in my heart <3 enjoy this tiny snippet for now!
➵ taglist; comment on this post or send me an ask to be added!
“Hey,” Jungkook smiles at you, bright and kind as ever, coming to a stop in front of you on the other side of the barricade. “You showed up.”
You feel a tiny hint of warmth within you because he seems happy to see you at his game. But you can’t help but remind yourself he’s with Hyejin, the fuzzy and warm feeling in your chest slowly dissolving. Maybe he’s just being friendly after finding out you’re friends with his girlfriend.
“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” you softly say, causing his smile to widen just a bit.
“Did you manage to find the rest of the books you needed?” He asks after a short moment of silence.
“Good,” Jungkook nods, still smiling, “that’s good.”
Silence surrounds the two of you again. There’s something in the atmosphere but you can’t quite pinpoint it. You feel his eyes on you as you glance around, your own eyes looking at anything else but him. To be honest, looking at him is making you nervous, especially after noticing his attire when he played around with the football before – he’s dressed in his soccer uniform; a fitted warm-up shirt that shows off his broad shoulders and lean body, blue shorts that stop just above his knees, white socks, soccer cleats in bright colors on his feet. His hair is tousled, the tips slightly damp from warming up which makes it even worse because now it’s kind of curly.
“So,” you break the silence, taking the chance and looking back at him, “how long have you and Hyejin been dating?”
“Oh, we’re not.”
Jungkook hums to confirm his own words when you look at him in confusion, “we’re just friends.”
You can’t help but raise one eyebrow, looking at him with suspicion written all over your face.
“Does she know that?”
“Of course,” he shrugs and lets out a somewhat strained chuckle. “There’s no reason that she wouldn’t.”
Them not dating seems almost impossible to you as you’re reminded of them cuddled up in the hallway from earlier today. Maybe Hyejin just has a crush on Jungkook? It would make sense and to be fair, you don’t blame her. He’s the whole fucking package and you, yourself, is having a hard time because of it. Just having him standing this close to you on the other side of the barricade is making your heartbeat quicken.
Hyejin appears by your side again, coffee in hand. She smiles widely once she spots Jungkook, leaning over the barricade to give him a hug. You watch them embrace each other and you can’t help but notice how different their approaches are. Hyejin is hugging him tightly while Jungkook loosely wraps an arm around her waist. When he looks at you over her shoulder, you quickly look away, pretending you weren’t watching them just now.
“Jeon! Stop flirting with your fans and get back over here!”
Jungkook rolls his eyes and chuckles as he breaks away from the hug, glancing back at his coach before turning back to you and Hyejin.
“I’ll catch you guys later,” he tells you both, eyes staying locked with yours for a second longer before jogging off towards the rest of his team. A rush of excitement runs through your body but you quickly brush it off, telling yourself you’re imagining things.
“Score a goal for me, Kookie!” Hyejin calls after him.
Jungkook glances back at her and flashes her a smile, continuing to make his way towards his teammates. Hyejin lets out a deep sigh as she sits back down next to you. You glance at her, noticing the lovestruck smile on her face as she watches Jungkook move around the field, prepping and getting ready for the game to start.
The game soon starts, occupying you and Hyejin entirely. Jungkook starts on the field. He’s the center forward with the number 7 on the back of his jersey. Throughout the game you slowly begin to realize that going to watch the game was a bad idea. Not only is Jungkook sweet and cute – he’s undoubtedly hot too. The way he’s in his element on the soccer field, completely focused and set on winning, is one of the most attractive things you’ve ever witnessed and you’re not sure how to handle it. 1) You’re lowkey turned on by it and 2) you feel bad for being attracted to him, to have this developing crush when it’s obvious that Hyejin likes him.
And to make matters worse, just when you happen to look at him during halftime, he’s lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. His lower abdomen is revealed, nicely tanned skin and toned hips on show for everyone to see and yet you feel like you’re the only one witnessing it. Your cheeks heat up at the sight, teeth digging into your bottom lip to stop yourself from yelping in surprise. He’s all sweaty with damp hair, strands sticking to his forehead and glistening skin. When he grabs a water bottle and starts drinking from it, you slump in your seat, mentally groaning.
This is not good.
Jason & Bruce angsty fics? Pls?
Oh ho ho okay here we go...
(Sorry it took a few days I was very liberal in my interpretation of what constituted angst and I had many, many fics to include - this isn’t even anything close to all of them but if you find one you like I recommend looking for fics in the same collections or under the same tags)
Disclaimer: I’ve read the majority of these, but a few are from my marked for later list. Also different authors approach and interpret characters very differently. If you don’t like something, don’t read it, but please be respectful to the authors.
And as always when looking for fics, please pay attention to tags, summaries, ratings, and warnings. Many of these fics deal with heavy topics and potential triggers, so be mindful of what you choose to read.
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Person A: “Hey! Don’t go getting any ideas.”
Person B: “....I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
Person A: “Don’t give me that bullshit, I saw the way you were looking at (Person C)! They deserve someone so much better than the likes of you.”
Person B: “Believe me, I am quite aware.”
Curse Oikawa Tōru.
You do not care that this is the final game for volleyball at the Tokyo Olympics. You wish you ignored every text he sent you and denied ever meeting him in person.
You're stuck in the seats he chose with malicious precision right behind the Argentinian bench so if you get up, the entire world will see you. If you shrink into your seat you're going to stick out among the cheering fans like a black rose among daisies.
You have to match the crowd's energy and pray to whatever volleyball ball Olympic gods still live on mount Olympus that you blend in.
You're not even paying attention to the game or the score, only hyper aware of the slowest scoreboard in the universe as the teams go all out.
The moment the game ends and half the crowd errupts you're on your feet. Your heart is pounding, flight instinct activated.
The closest stairs are toward Team Japan and you just go but your dashing is frantic and out of place enough that it draws his eye only for a split second but it's enough and he freezes among the frenetic activity of the end of the game and his lips are parting, emerald eyes widening in a surge of surprise as he realizes it really is you and
You're desperate to be alone before you drown in all these feelings but there's too many people why are there so many people.
From the corner of your eye you see Iwaizumi weaving around athletes laser-focused on you.
No, no, no, he hops the stadium railing with an ease that would be intoxicatingly attractive if he wasn't racing after you.
You're at the stairs now and he calls your name.
The image of the last time you saw him breaks your heart all over again as you're taking the stairs two at a time. People are clearing the way for the dramatic chase by the time you reach the top.
Iwa's still calling you but you don't stop. You can't. The tears are forming and the years are catching up. The pain and loneliness and hurt.
You run through the atrium, you can see the doors of the stadium
But you're not fast enough.
A firm, warm, heart-wrenchingly familiar hand wraps around your wrist.
The momentum of your run works against you as you whirl around and slam into his chest and he's warm and still smells good like the hint of cologne under a scent that's so unmistakably him and he instinctively wraps his arms around you.
"You're here," he says, incredulous, and you reflexively look up at him.
You wish you hadn't.
You remember the last time he was this close like it was yesterday and don't bother holding back your tears.
You spit out the words "I didn't know you would be here."
"Why?" He asks, his perfectly muscular chest having the decency to breathe heavily. "How?"
"It doesn't matter." You push against his stupidly hard body but he doesn't let go of your wrist.
"Please don't leave."
"Like you did?" You ask tearfully, angrily. Hurt weighs on his expression.
"I didn't want to," he says. When your face crumples in disbelief he insists "I didn't. I didn't want you to have to choose between coming with me and going home to your dad!"
You freeze, air locked in your lungs as the words spill out of Iwaizumi like he's afraid this will be his only chance.
"I knew how much we loved each other and I knew you wanted me to ask you to come with me, to come back here, but I also knew how much your dad meant to you. He was sick and neither of you knew how much longer he had." His own eyes are getting glassy now. "I didn't want to take any of your time away from him."
Iwaizumi glances around at the slow-moving crowd clearly spectating. "Please...can we just...talk? Somewhere else?"
There's a gentle nudge on your back though no one's near you and you nod, crying.
Iwaizumi slips his hand from your wrist into yours lacing your fingers together. He leads you away from the atrium and all you can focus on is the worn, faded bracelet against his skin.
does tumblr like fanart wips?
Over the Love
Jake Lockley x Gender Neutral!Reader
Established Marc Spector & Steven Grant x Reader
A/N: Loosely based on the greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice- This is part one of a two part series, inspired by the hang(over) the moon challenge (but since I can’t commit to a one part fic to save my life- this is what came out of the inspiration instead of an actual submission). This fanfic is dedicated to the lovely @raelwrites as she gave me the push I needed to finally write for Jake Lockley (I think it went better than I thought it would!). That said- my spanish probably sucks, so feel free to tell me about it. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)
Word Count: 1.6K+
Warnings: Major Character Death, Spoilers, Canon Typical Violence, Angst, a tiny bit of fluff & a small reference to smut, in this universe Marc & Steven stayed Khonshu’s avatar.
You can only hope Marc doesn’t wake from your surprised whisper as you admire his sleeping form. Curls splayed messily across his face, bronze skin littered with the soft beams of sunlight projecting from the window.
He stirs a bit, shifting an arm acround you before relaxing back into the mattress. You smile, sighing in relief. It’s not often he allows himself to sleep in like this, he tends to be an earlier riser.
You’re half-tempted to pinch yourself, just to confirm this isn’t a dream. But then you notice the bandages along his side, placed like someone was in a hurry.
Trailing your fingers to the wound, you huff in indignation.
He always manages to get himself hurt.
Rough fingers grip your wrist, halting your movements, “It’s not as bad as it looks”, he slurs, voice thick with sleep.
You frown at the wound and then at him, finding he’s already looking at you, “I don’t like it when you get hurt”.
He sighs, raising an eyebrow, before his mouth settles into a smirk, “Call it collateral damage sweetheart, ‘cause how many people can say they’re dating a superhero”.
You roll your eyes, choosing to ignore him as you pick at a stray thread in the comforter. “Oh, come on- don’t be like that”, he says softly, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to worry you”.
“You get upset when I get hurt- and you didn’t even wrap it correctly!”, you argue, gesturing to his shitty nursing abilities. You would think with the amount of injuries he sustains, that he’d have at least mediocre medical skills.
Marc shifts so that he’s laying above you, an arm propped up on either side of your body. Leaning down, he trails kisses up the side of your neck and along your jaw.
A shiver runs down your spine as he pauses directly above your lips, breath teasing as he holds back a smile.
Your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, realizing you’ve been caught in his trap, “That’s not fair! You’re trying to distract me”.
“It’s working though, isn’t it sweetheart?”, he smirks, running a hand through his hair, “I bet you can’t even remember what we were talking about- only worried about when and where I’ll put my lips next”.
You huff, looking up at his boyish grin, “It might have worked for a second, but you won’t make me forget that easily”.
“We can remedy that”, he says, fingers snapping the waistband of your underwear.
You fight the urge to roll your eyes again, rolling out from underneath him instead, “I worry about you- both of you”.
Marc’s face softens at your words, his shoulders loosening. He knows he’s very protective of you; always making sure to hold your hand or put an arm around your shoulder when the two of you go out, “I know, we worry about you too”.
You wince as Marc’s head whips to the side, the impact of rough knuckles splitting open his cheek.
You’re not supposed to be here. You know that. But every night this week, Marc has come home with injuries worse than the last- and your desire to protect them has won, having stolen the extra handgun he keeps stashed inside your toilet.
Catching the man nearest to you off guard, you knock him out with the butt of the gun, his body dropping to your feet.
At the sound, Marc’s head snaps up, fists clenching at his side. What the fuck are you doing here?
He’s angry at himself for allowing you to be pulled into this- not that you’re not holding your own, but you shouldn't have to.
You kick one of the men in the stomach, using your strength to bring his face down onto your knee. Watching in morbid fascination as the blood drips from his nose, when a rough hand clasps your wrist, spinning you around.
“What are you thinking?”, he yells, “It’s not safe!”.
“It’s not safe for you either”, you stubbornly point out, running your fingers across the break in his cheek.
“I can’t die! Or did you just conveniently forget that?”, he snaps, eyes accessing your body for any injuries.
“You can still get hurt! You still feel pain, Marc! and so does Steven.”
Giving a single grunt in response, he sighs, knowing he doesn’t have time for this.
“We’ll talk about this later, but for now- you have to go.”
A pout on your lips, you turn away as he notices the man behind him- a few seconds too late.
The bullet goes right through you, Marc’s expression morphing into one of pure terror, opening his mouth to call your name.
It stings as it enters you, your body becoming overwhelmed by the sensations.
Marc’s head falls back for a split second, his whole body tensing before his eyes land back on you, darker than you’ve ever seen them.
He yells your name, growl ripping through his chest, unnatural and animalistic- crawling from his lips like a beast in search of his prey as you crumple to the ground.
A burning sensation spreads through your side and you have to blink a few times to restart your senses, able to make out the sickening crunch of the man's neck as he snaps it.
He stands over you.
Looking at him for a moment, you take in the unfamiliar stance and the way he holds his jaw. You know he isn’t Steven, but he definitely can’t be Marc either- he carries himself far differently than both of them.
Is he- is there another alter?, “Who are you?” you ask him.
He looks shocked for a split second, not expecting you to notice their switch, before composing himself again.
“I’m Jake- Jake Lockley.”, he introduces, kneeling to the ground as he does a once-over of your injuries, “The malditos idiotas estúpidos haven’t noticed I’m here yet”.
You’re losing too much blood- too quickly, he realizes- pulling his shirt over his head to press it against the wound.
“Have we met?”, you wonder aloud, sending yourself into another coughing fit.
“We have- I’m just better at pretending”, he admits, using his free hand to cup your cheek.
Your mind flickers through all the times Marc and Steven had acted strange. Steven holding you a bit tighter than usual, Marc laughing at something he’d normally find stupid-
Jake had been here the whole time.
“You’ve been here the whole time”, you respond weakly, raising a hand to mirror his hold on your face, “That’s why you feel so familiar”.
He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut, “Si”.
Blood pools beneath you, staining the ground a bitter red, “I’m glad you’re here with me”.
His eyes snap open, “No, don’t say that cariña. You’re going to-”.
“It’s okay, Jake”, you interrupt him, “It’s okay”, your arms fall limp at your sides, breath becoming shallow, “Just hold me”.
He shifts so that your body lays between his legs, neck against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t protect you”, he says, tears dripping onto your skin.
“You did protect me, you protected all of us”, you try and comfort him.
“No lo suficientemente bien- not well enough”, he whispers, feeling how your blood sticks to his hands.
“Look at me”, you beg him, “Please”.
He drops his head, his eyes still filled with tears.
“I love you”, you smile sadly, wishing you had more time to show him.
“I love you”, he responds, watching as your body becomes limp in his arms.
Jake shuts his eyes, hoping that once they open, you’ll still be here with them- giving him that sweet smile of yours.
But in his heart he knows that you can’t. He knows that you’re gone.
He opens them, pressing a gentle kiss to the top off your head as he breathes in the scent of the shampoo you always used, fingers closing your eyes for the last time.
“Good, the distraction is gone”, Khonshu says, voice void of any empathy.
“Distracción”, he hisses, making sure your body is in a comfortable position on the ground, “They wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for you!”.
“No, they wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for you”, the god points out, growing bored of their conversation as his avatar pulls a crescent blade out of thin air.
“And what exactly are you planning to do with that?”
He throws it at Khonshu’s feet, turning away from him, “I’m done with you”.
The wind stops, “And if- I know of a way to save them?”.
“Estás mintiendo”, Jake grunts, dropping to his knees next to you, “You’re lying”.
“Summon Marc Spector”, Khonshu orders, slamming down his staff, “He’ll want to hear what I have to say”.
“You think I’ll allow you anywhere near them after this?”, he laughs bitterly, “It’s my job to protect them from abusers like you”.
“Don’t you think that choice should be his?”, the God asks.
“No”, he hisses, anger dripping from his lips, “Anything you can tell me- I can find out for myself”.
And for a moment, there’s only silence.
“So be it”, the wind returns, leaving a broken Jake Lockley at your side.
He brushes the hair away from your face, holding back the tears that threaten to leave his eyes, “I’ll figure out a way to bring you back”, he whispers, “I promise”.
Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged or un-tagged down below <3
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Best Bad Luck
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife Reader
Word Count: 1,870
Warning(s): Profanity, Angst, Dad!Bucky, Husband!Bucky
A/N: Masterlist. This will be a three part series posted a week apart. Part II scheduled for next week and part III for the week after that!
Summary: You two have everything. The life you’ve always wanted; the love, the beautiful girls. Everything except each other.
You look away from the window, having been gazing out to the backyard. The darkening sky finally gave way for the stars to sparkle for your entertainment. You looked toward him coming in across from you in the dim lighting of the kitchen.
“Like lights.” Bucky settled in across from you leaning back onto the island, crossing his arms over his chest. “Our daughters, they are one of a kind.” He laughs. “Sam asked if we could stop turning the porch lights off, it isn’t fair to all the bugs who wanna find their way around at night. It’s bullying the little guy, she says.”
You laughed quietly. “They had another bullying seminar at school today. She’s thinking of becoming a monitor.” He flicks his brow up curiously, in search of further explanation. “Reporting any bullying she sees to their homeroom teacher.”
“Oh god, she’s a teacher’s pet already.”
“Steve’s influence. She can’t wait to get home and call him about all the people she might turn in. How sad is that?”
“How was your day?” He offered, rounding the island to get a beer from the fridge. He walked around like he owned the place. He didn’t mean to but he knew where everything was supposed to be, where to put them when they weren’t. It was home, his home away from home, home when his ‘home’ wasn’t homey.
“Got asked on a date.”
Behind the open fridge door his muscles tightened for a moment, his grip on the handle of the fridge iron clad. “Yeah?” He loosened up, grabbed his beer, and shut the door. “You don’t date coworkers.”
“Coworkers’ friend. Met him while we were out at lunch. He said he liked my vibe.” You smiled, knowing that would amuse him.
Bucky chuckled, “Are you dating college kids? Little out of your age range, no?
“No, he just isn’t from the 30′s and ancient.” You teased.
He shrugged, bringing his bottle to his lips. “Touche.” When he lowers his head from the swig he sees your waited stare. He swallows. “You know you don’t have to ask my permission.”
“Hm.” You nodded, looking away twisting your lips to bite the inside of your cheek.
He shouldn’t have been ecstatic to see your obvious reluctance, but he was. “He a good guy?” He pushed deciding to at least appear supportive, even if he was as good as see-through trying to fool you. He places his now half-drunken beer down next to him, leaning backward on bent arms.
“Do you ever really know?” You asked, without looking up, swinging your bare feet, letting your heels hit the cabinet underneath you every once in a while.
“Do you like him?” He asked, knowing he didn’t want to know if it wasn’t the answer he anticipated. Two years into this arrangement and he still couldn’t stomach you having a crush.
“Not like I like you, unfortunately.” You admitted, finally looking up at him.
He takes a deep inhale mixed of relief and slight frustration. “Right.” He takes another swig, stepping forward closing the distance between the two of you. “You should be going on a date with me, then.” He offers, dipping his head low as if he was going to kiss you. An absolute overstep of the rules you had both been trying to enforce. You, always more than him.
“James...” You try, hoping your tone would be enough to deter him.
“You know what I’d say, so why did you tell me?”
“Because you’re my best friend and I don’t know how not to tell you my every waking thought.” He looked down watching your lips as they moved.
“You could lie.”
“Like I haven’t tried.” He hummed, knowing the feeling. His eyes travel up for a glance in your eyes and there’s a moment of weakness he suffers being lost in them. They were still soft and telling like they had always been and like clockwork the innate urge to spill his guts to you became so overwhelming that he succumbed. “Don’t go. He isn’t the one for you.”
“How was your day?” You try to divert the conversation sensing it going further off the rails, more than you could handle tonight.
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Buck...” You lower your head, defeated.
“Yeah I know,” He sighs, disappointed that he isn’t disappointed in himself for overstepping again. “I should go.” He finishes for you. He stops himself from kissing your lips, only pulls back to kiss your forehead.
“Good night,” He paused, realizing that’s where he needed to stop, just good night would have to do. He takes his time gathering his things; boots from the front door, his jacket that was hung over the couch, his will to live once he was looking at the outside of the door that had everything he wanted locked behind it. “Make sure you lock the doors.”
He stops turning back, beginning to put his things back down. “I should check the windows.” You tilt your head, and send him a stare, a soft but slightly stern reminder that you were privy to his ways, and that he had to try and do his part too. “Right,” He nodded, lips pursed “I checked those already.”
“Probably meet Steve at Rusty’s.” He tells you just as he puts his hand on the doorknob.
“Don’t drink and-”
“Don’t drink too much either. Have fun.”
One or the other, he thought. “I,” He blinks. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Fuck super hearing. Shit. In that moment he wished he didn’t have it, it would’ve spared him having to hear that and still walk away. Just a slight whisper over the creak of the door as he opened it, which he made a mental note to oil when he came over tomorrow, mournful as if you regretted feeling it.
I love you too.
Drinking a little tonight was officially off the table.
“How’s the wife?” Bucky questioned watching for his best friends answer in the reflection of the dingy mirror a few feet from them.
“The girlfriend who doesn’t want to get married, you mean? Oh, she’s great. Amazing. Dodging jewelry and commitment like bullets.” Steve answered taking the rest of his beer to the head, sliding it forward when he was finished.
“She isn’t dodging commitment. She’s committed enough if she’s been sleeping with that face every night.”
Steve let a curt puff of air out of his nose. “How are the kids? Y/N?”
Bucky quietly signaled to the bartender for another, maybe something a little stronger. “Girls are fine.” He paused, cracking his neck, wondering whether to continue. “Y/N got asked on a date.”
“Coworkers friend. Probably a nice guy, told her she shouldn’t go.” Steve didn’t say much but Bucky could feel the judgment, knowing Steve was thinking something along the lines of I thought you were at least going to let her try.
“I’m her best friend she says, she couldn’t lie to me if she wanted to. Asked her if the likes the guy, she says she doesn’t like anyone the way she likes me.” He laughs dryly. “That’s a bitch, isn’t it? I’m advising my wife to go on dates like her fucking wingman.” He sighed, throwing back the shot of dark liquor that a new bartender, who’d been working alongside the owner recently, slid across the counter, downing it in seconds, hissing at the familiar burn as he swallowed.
His eyes flittered up to the analog clock on the wall. 10:50. The girls would still be out unless one of them had a nightmare, which always seemed to affect both of them, a twin thing you and Bucky had decided. It would likely be Angel who was having a hard time coping with some episodes of SpongeBob. He figured you were just making your way into bed. You always stayed up to watch the stars as long as you could, and sometime around now was the cutoff before exhaustion was ensured for tomorrow.
He caught Steve doing the same, checking the clock, likely wondering what his girlfriend was at home doing and what he was missing. “Steve?” Bucky decided, standing up. “Go home. Just cause one of us is always miserable doesn’t mean you have to pretend to be. You’ve got a woman at home, that’s where you need to be.” He knows because he and Steve were two sides of the same coin and it’s where he would be if he could.
“I have something to tell you.”
“Yeah?” He digs a few tens out from the tattered wallet he freed from his jeans to slide over to Rusty who had appeared in place of the new guy. The old, miserable owner who probably shouldn’t even be serving drinks anymore.
“I put in for a new position, a permanent stay in the U.S, stationed at HQ.”
“You, not doing any more flying? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“For you. I put in the request for you.”
Bucky scoffs, thinking it’s a joke “Go to hell.” He said, brushing him off beginning towards the door looking back to see Steve still sitting.
“I’ve been watching you kill yourself for the past two years. You’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted. A wife, two beautiful girls and you are the most miserable man on the planet and you hate what you do. You have the best bad luck, man.”
“You’re my friend not my therapist. Not my fucking manager either.” He chided. Steve was trekking on grounds Bucky didn’t have to wherewithal to guide him out of patiently. He was already made painfully aware of his situation once tonight, he wasn’t in the mood for another no matter how well intentioned.
“That’s why I know if someone doesn’t tell you this, you’ll keep going.” He turned his body completely toward Bucky. “You’ve done your part, you’ve served. Saved millions of people a hundred times over. Those debts you have, they’re paid in full.”
He scoffed, “Stark think so?”
“This isn’t about Stark-“
“Does he think so? Does he think I’ve made amends for killing his parents? You tell me if any of them think that.”
“You’re going to be fucking miserable until the day you die.” Steve bursts. “You’re going to watch everyone you love move on. Decades will pass and you’ll be in the same spot, on this same barstool going home to that same empty apartment. Your kids will be grown, Y/N will have married someone-“
“You shut the fuck up,” Bucky warned, stepping forward menacingly.
“- who won’t fling her around like she’s on a goddamned string. You’ll drink yourself to death, or try your hardest to. You’ll outlive Rusty, for gods sake. But you have an out. An out you’ve worked for, earned and that you deserve. That your kids deserve. That the woman who loves you, who took the oath with you on that altar deserves.”
He had too many years dealing with the highs and lows of Bucky to argue with him. Steve knew him like the back of his hand, so he wouldn’t even try. There were conclusions Bucky would only come to himself, when he decided to, no matter how obvious.
He rose from the barstool, jacket in hand. “Think about it. You’ve got a week or so.” Head hunt low in disappointment, he lightly bumped Bucky’s shoulder as he passed. “Thanks for the drink.”
Bucky threw himself back down on a stool, slamming his fist down on the counter in anger, roughly bringing his hand through his hair, he waited until Steve’s form faded out of his peripheral.
“Where’s the damn whiskey in this shithole you call a bar, Rusty?”
may i have a milk tea with milk art + jealously from the green tea cup. mint with dainty tea cookies sounds good and angst to comfort. thank you and congrats, sky!
you’re supposed to be mine
summary: wandering around the kamisato estate, waiting on your betrothed ayato to finish his meeting, can be quite boring. but luckily for you, thoma is there to keep you company. until ayato steals you away from your new friend, confusing you both. what had you done wrong now that caused this type of reaction?
masterlist | event
customer’s order: milk tea (ayato) with milk art (one shot) in a green tea cup (jealousy), with some dainty tea cookies (fake dating) on the side. extra: customer requested angst to comfort
pairing: ayato x reader
reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), reader and ayato are in a longterm fake engagement,
word count: 1,515 words
genre: romance, fake dating, confession, angst to comfort (+ plus some reverse comfort)
format: one shot
warnings: thoma mentioned, ayato putting his hand on your waist, jealous ayato, ayato dragging reader to his bedroom to yell at them, yelling/arguing, ayato crying, confession through tears, L-word dropped, and possessive language used in a romantic/loving context (specifically “and he is yours, just as you are his”)
a/n: i was in a mood to write angst and your request was next, lucky me💖 but honestly this was great to write and i was so happy to do so. please read at your own caution💖 (also,, in the future i won’t be adding the [more under the cut] thing,,, because yes💖)
It was now mid-afternoon, and Ayato still hadn’t emerged from his meeting.
Thoma had now begun dusting around the outside corridors, barely standing on the tips of his toes to reach the ceiling. You stood from the side, quietly watching and appreciating as he cleans. He looked so peaceful, quietly humming a tune as he worked. It was strangely calming for you to just watch him work, enjoying the sight of such a happy man at work.
It was only then that Thoma turned around, realizing you were right there.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Thoma frowned, “is there anything I can help you with?”
You shook your head, a small wave of embarrassment passing over you after being caught. “No, I was just… admiring your hard work, please do continue.”
“Oh, I don’t think my line of work is really that impressive,” he chuckled, looking over to the front doors to the Kamisato Residence. “After all, your betrothed’s line of work is much more admirable.”
“I’m sure that it would be. If he ever let me see him work, that is,” you whispered.
“Hm? What was that?”
You gave him a kind smile instead of repeating your words. “It’s nothing, Thoma, don’t worry about it.”
He looked unsure, but nodded. Thoma turned away from you and walked around the corner, leaving you to stand alone.
As your mind whirled back to life, saddened to not spend more time with Thoma, you heard his voice again. After another call of your name, you realized he was calling you over.
“Sorry, I had my head in the clouds,” you murmured, standing in front of Thoma. “Could you repeat yourself?”
Thoma chuckled. “It’s nothing, I just wanted to keep you company until Mr. Ayato’s meeting was over,” he looked at the feather duster in his hands, “if that’s alright with you, of course.”
“I’d lo— I’d really like that, Thoma,” you corrected yourself. “That's very kind of you to offer.”
You and Thoma spent some time together. He would dust the place until it was spotless, while you cracked jokes and made conversation with him. You smiled each time he laughed fully at your jokes, feeling as though he truly did enjoy them. And the way he indulged in your small talk, furthering the conversation with his own, made you feel even more appreciated and valued.
“Oh, good afternoon, Thoma,” Ayato’s voice caused you to stand up straighter, just as he placed his hand on your waist, “thank you for keeping my beloved company until the meeting was over.”
“O-oh, no need to thank me, m-my lord,” Thoma stammered, the feather duster in his hands shaking slightly. “Have a good day, you two.”
“Goodbye Thoma,” you smiled at him, even as Ayato tried to turn you the other way, “it was really nice talking with you.”
Thoma’s “you too” was lost to the wind as Ayato hurriedly walked you into the Kamisato Residence. Each door you two came to was thrown open by the guards posted by it, sensing Ayato’s mood before you did. Finally, when you got to your shared bedroom, Ayato practically pushed you in before dismissing the guards posted outside the doors.
As you landed softly on his bed, you felt a wave of fear come over you. What had you done wrong? You had acted sivil, playing the part of Ayato’s beloved partner quite well this whole afternoon. There were no slip ups, as you had promised when you both entered this fake courtship.
So what on earth was he so livid about?
“Did I do something wrong?” you asked in a quiet voice.
“No— yes—” Ayato spluttered, his hands finding their way to his scalp quickly.
“Which is it? Yes or no?”
His gray-blue eyes looked up from the ground and made contact with you. “Argh, why is this so complicated to explain to you?”
You furrowed your brow. “Try me. You’d be quite surprised at how I can pick up on things, seeing as you don’t spend another moment than needed with me.”
Ayato opened his mouth, ready with his own retort, but stopped himself. Instead, he fixed the collar of his suit and glared at you.
“Stop flirting with Thoma,” he huffed, “it does none of us any good. You’re supposed to be my love, remember?”
“Flirting? Ayato, are you s—”
“Oh, don’t act so innocent,” he sneered, walking over to you, “batting your eyelashes at him, laughing at all his jokes, talking with him for hours while I’m away.”
“Is it really my fault that I enjoy spending time with your friend, Thoma?” you snapped. “Is it my fault that I’m trying to be a part of your life? That I’m putting effort into getting to know your friends?”
“No, but—” Ayato huffed, running his hands through his hair. “But you’re supposed to—”
“I’m not supposed to do anything other than what we agreed upon,” you reminded him, beginning to stand up. “Are you really just mad that I’m doing a good job?”
“No, you don’t understand, I—”
“What, Ayato?” you snapped at him again, pushing yourself into his space. Your cheeks began to dampen as tears of frustration rained from your eyes. “What don’t I understand?”
He choked on his words, tears beginning to prick at his own eyes. “Because I love you, and I couldn’t stand it if you fell for someone else.”
You paused, standing inches away from Ayato as the tears fell down his cheeks. His eyes quickly became red, and the skin in the center of his face blossomed into a harsh pink. His usual graceful and beautiful features quickly turned unfortunate, but your heart broke apart slightly for a different reason. Because an overwhelming need to wipe away his tears came over you, but your hands remained at your sides.
This wasn’t part of the agreement. You two weren’t supposed to fall in love with each other. Your heart wasn’t supposed to ram against your ribs over and over again whenever he dared to sneak a glance over to you. You weren’t supposed to be feeling the heartbeat in your head, nor the feeling of your mouth being as dry as Sumeru’s deserts. You weren’t supposed to feel an overwhelming feeling of joy after Ayato let those words fall onto your ears.
Because you weren’t supposed to fall in love too.
“And I can’t stop denying my feelings— archons, my love for you,” he cried out, his own thoughts running a mile a minute as he looked at you.
You opened your mouth but no sound came out, letting Ayato fill in the silence for you with his voice.
“I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t—” his throat seemed to tighten up, and his shoulders shook as he imagined that this is what would finally drive you away. That this was going to make you rip up the contract and expose the Kamisato clan to creating a fake relationship between clans. “I know I wasn’t supposed to but I can’t stop myself when you’re so— so unapologetically you.”
“Ayato, it’s going to be okay,” you reassured him, finally bringing a hand to his cheek and wiping away his tears with your thumb.
“Archons, I’m so pathetic,” he berated himself, succumbing to your touch almost immediately, “I can’t even control myself when I’m around you.”
“Don’t say that about yourself,” you motioned for him to sit down on the bed, grateful when he complied and brought you down with him. “It’s not kind.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
You sighed. “Well, it did go against the contract we made in the first place,” you felt like you had melted as he reached out to dry your own tears, “but… I won’t lie when I say I’m glad to hear my feelings are reciprocated.”
Ayato moves his focus from your cheeks to your eyes. His gloved thumb stopped padding away at the tears that had fallen, instead they just rested on the apples of your cheeks. His own tears seemed to stop, briefly, as a smile began to form on his thin yet perfect lips.
“Really?” he sniffled, chuckling at the sound.
“Yes,” you murmured, ”really.”
“And this isn’t some cruel joke?”
“I’d never do anything like that to you, Ayato,” you assure him, slowly moving your forehead so it’s against his. “I promise.”
“So, you really do like me?”
You laugh quietly. “Yes. I love you, Ayato.”
“For how long?” he asked, teasing and mischief overlapping in his tone.
You smile, despite the words that escape your mouth. “Not even a minute into this and already you’re being quite insufferable—”
Ayato laughs loudly at that, causing you to join him. For a moment, you two are just laughing in his— in your bed, the final tears on both your faces drying. And he is beautiful, even in a state where he had been sobbing earlier, as he fills the room with your laughter.
And he is yours, just as you are his. And you couldn’t be anymore happier than that.
thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖
beelzebub | asmodeus | diavolo hurting you in the heat of the moment scenarios
originally written on: 27/01/22
The pot falls to the kitchen floor with a loud clang, the contents within spilling all over the spotless tiles and your bare legs. It takes you a moment to register the pain that spreads all over your reddening skin but the moment you do, it seems Beelzebub realises it, too.
He freezes in place, and ironically enough, his entire body feels as though a bucket of freezing cold water had just been poured on him from his head to his feet. Meanwhile, you take a few steps back, bumping into a counter before you lean against it, hands hovering over your raw skin, legs trembling from the burning sensation that seems to linger a lot longer than it would have in the human world.
Just a second ago you were having so much fun together. How did this happen?
The half-cut ingredients remain untouched on the counter by the stove, the pieces are chopped unevenly and there’s even a small smiley face carved into one of the vegetables. The knife you’d been using sits on the cutting board and Beelzebub feels a sense of relief wash over him when he realises how much worse it could’ve been if he’d snapped and hit the board instead of the pot. You’d been overly playful while you prepared your midnight snack together and the hunger had gotten to him.
A pitiful whimper snaps the Demon out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting your teary ones for a second before they trail downward, scanning your burned skin. An almost angry red, some parts of your legs have begun to blister. Beelzebub takes a step towards you but you press your back against the counter behind you, a frightened gasp slipping past your lips as you eye his outstretched hand warily.
You wish you hadn’t reacted that way. You know well enough that the Avatar of Gluttony would never intentionally hurt you and that it’d been an accident despite how much your shins felt as if they were on fire. But what’s done is done and the hurt is evident in his eyes as a sad frown dons his face. Overpowering it all, though, is the guilt and that hurts more than your burns do, the way he looks so horrified of himself piercing you right through the chest.
Raising your arms up towards him, you say, “Beel, will you carry me to my room?” Without hesitation, he crosses the room over to you before very carefully sweeping you into his arms bridal style so that your wounds go untouched. “Don’t worry too much about it,” you tell him, hands gently holding onto the front of his shirt, “it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“I’m glad it doesn’t hurt now,” Beelzebub replies, “but I still lost control for a moment. I still hurt you in the end.” His eyebrows stay furrowed as a deep frown etches itself on his face. Slowly, you use your index fingers to push the ends of his lips into a smile, giving him a smile of your own when he finally look into your eyes. His face relaxes before he lifts you up a little higher so that his lips brush against yours.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’d rather starve than hurt you like that ever again.”
His casual dismissal of your words enrages you even further. Still deeply engaged in a borderline flirtatious conversation with an unknown Demon, Asmodeus makes ignoring you seem effortless, his elated facial expression not even faltering when you try to pull him away so that you can give him a piece of his mind.
Despite having invited you to this apparently “very exclusive party” that’s only for the “best of the best”, your beloved partner was quick to abandon you in favour of spending time with others, leaving you to your own devices in an environment that was… interesting, to say the least.
After spending half an hour trying to enjoy yourself, you came to the conclusion that you definitely don’t want to spend another thirty minutes in wherever you are.
“Asmo, can we leave?” you’d asked him, tugging on his arm gently, “I… I don’t feel so good staying here.” Without even sparing you a glance, the Demon waved you off, mumbling some words over his shoulder that you couldn’t catch due to the loud music that hits you from every possible direction. “Asmodeus,” you try again, now stepping in between him and the other Demon so that you’re within his line of sight, “don’t ignore me. At least walk me back to the House? I really don’t wanna stay.”
“(Y/N),” he replies sharply in spite of the cheerful expression on his face, “this party only happens once every hundred years! I don’t wanna miss a second of it.”
“But, Asmo, I…” you swallow thickly, “I’m scared of walking back alone.”
“(Y/N), what did I just say?”
“I heard you but I really—” you grab his hand only to feel it shoot upward out of your grip. Before you know it, your right cheek begins to sting as you feel a warm, thick liquid run down your face, trailing along your neck as the collar of your shirt turns red. Stumbling a step back, you feel your hands tremble. He’d moved so fast, you didn’t see it coming—you literally didn’t see it at all.
“Wait, (Y/N),” the Avatar of Lust reaches out to cup your unwounded cheek but you slap his hand away without hesitation, a scowl forming on your face, the movement of which makes the cut sting even more.
“Fine. I’ll go. Don’t follow me. Stay here and do what you want.” You turn around and force your way past tens of partying Demons, finding the exit a lot quicker than you anticipated.
The moment you step out, you feel fear and dread overcome every ounce of anger and hurt you’d been harbouring for the entirety of the evening. The cold air bites at your skin and you swear you feel the blood on your face dry almost instantaneously. Walking in the direction you came from, you wrap your arms around yourself as you resort to breathing through your mouth, the chilly night wind too much for your nose to handle. Any tears that pool in your eyes disappear quickly, sparing you of any more humiliation you could possibly handle tonight.
“What part of ‘don’t follow me’ do you not understand?” you say when you hearing Asmodeus run up behind you, stopping you by standing in your way, his hands grabbing your shoulders. You glare up at him, feeling your anger towards him falter when you realise how dull his eyes look. They’re usually so bright even in the dark.
“It’s freezing,” he says, unravelling the scarf around his neck before wrapping it around yours. “Here,” he mutters as he adjusts it a little bit afterwards. You don’t say a word, confused on how to even feel at this point.
On one hand, you’re still mad at him for treating you so badly and then even going so far as to scratch your face with his nails (regardless of whether it was intentional or not) but on the other, you’re relieved he came after you. You feel safe with him and now, you’re warm, too.
“Does it hurt?” Asmodeus asks softly, his hand hovering over your cut, the pad of his thumb carefully brushing under your eye. “I’m sorry… I’ve done such an ugly thing to the most beautiful person.”
“Flattery isn’t gonna save you,” you mumble, though you’d be lying if you said you were telling the complete truth.
“I know,” he replies, leaning over to kiss your forehead, “but it’s a start, right?… I promise I’ll be better, my dear (Y/N).”
The panic sets in when his fingers tighten around your throat. With just one hand, Diavolo has managed to lift you almost entirely off your feet, the tips of your toes just barely scraping the floor of his office. Although you’re still able to breathe, it’s hard to even think straight, much less inhale a sufficient amount of air.
“How many times have I told you… to leave me alone this entire week?” he growls lowly, golden eyes piercing into your own which have begun to burn with tears at this point. Your hands grasp at his, nails scratching his skin as you make some kind of attempt at freeing yourself.
“Pl-please…” you manage to say in a tight voice, “d-don’t… kill me… Diavolo.” You shut your eyes as you speak, hot tears breaking free to form rivers down your face.
His hands used to be so kind, so gentle. He’d touched every part of you with careful consideration and love. Now, all you could feel was pain. You wonder if this is it, if this is how your life ends: at the hands of the Demon you thought had fallen in love with you as you did with him. Had you simply been fooling yourself this entire time? That seems to be the case. How could the next Demon King possibly feel love for a mere weak human like you?
When Diavolo drops you, you fall to the ground, the side of your head hitting the floor with a loud smack. He, too, collapses to his knees, suddenly no longer in his Demon form. Through blurry vision, you watch as he pants heavily, beads of sweat now forming all over his usually-composed face. He seems to have been snapped out of a trance. He looks up, eyes meeting yours instantly before his shocked expression crumbles into one of pure devastation. With a tenderness that sharply contrasts what they’d just done, his hands pull you into his arms before he cradles you against his chest.
“Oh, my sweet (Y/N),” he exhales shakily, “oh, no, no, no… What’ve I done?” His heart is beating fast and his body feels so warm and comforting. Is this really the same being who looked like he was about to kill you just mere seconds ago?
“Don’t kill me…” you whisper without realising until the final syllable has left your lips. Your eyelids feel heavy so you allow them to flutter shut. As your body goes limp in his arms, your uneven breaths turning into even, shallow ones of a person deep in slumber, Diavolo presses a kiss to your forehead.
“My dear (Y/N),” he says, the first of many tears rolling down his face, “I’ve committed a horrible crime… I’m so sorry… I’ll accept any punishment you’ll do unto me, anything at all… Please… I’m sorry… I love you.”
For that what if scenario what is just preventing Ingo from hightailing it out of there?
Obviously like the love he has for his Emmet but Ingo has already said that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Soooo
Ingo loves Emmet just as much as the other. When he tells F!Emmet he could have moved on, he knows asking him to do so is cruel, hypocritical, as he doubts he himself could have moved on if put in similar shoes. If Ingo was put in a similar situation, to have his brother taken from him and having the opportunity to get him back despite the immense cost, even he is not sure if he would make the same decisions his brother has.
Also, he fears him leaving and not “playing his part” will lead to Emmet retaliating by hurting himself to keep him compliant. He cannot, will not let that happen. As Ingo once said:
“I will never abandon you.”
What do King and the Portal Key have in common?
They’re both cracked open for the blood inside!
Can you tell Rebecca’s latest promo fucking broke me-
your boyfriend has never been a particularly good cook.
kuroo, despite all that he is—intelligent, a chemistry-lover at heart, a great baker, and kind—has always been quite the disaster in the kitchen. even in high school, when you’d come over after practices and his father and grandparents were out, he’d always be sure to order something or pick something up before the question of what do you want for dinner? could even make its way past either of your mouths.
but now, years past and on the final horizons of college, kuroo’s found his way into the kitchen of your little apartment. he’s been fussing over a little pan of meat sauce for the past few moments, furrowing his brows at your little encouragements to add whatever feels right.
every time you say it, he turns back to where you’re sitting, your cheeks resting in your hands, feet dangling off of the stool you’re sitting on, and narrows his eyes.
“you’re no help,” he says, and then turns back to the stove, eyeing the garlic powder before putting more into the sauce. (to be honest, you’re a little concerned about that being too much, but it’s sauce, what could go wrong?).
“oh c’mon, tetsu,” you begin, and then hop off of your spot on the stool to walk over to him, “you can figure it out. you’re smart, aren’t you?”
he huffs out a bit of laughter, and then shrugs.
he’s still focused on the stove when you come up behind him. your fingers reach out, chasing after the wrinkles that have made their home in his shirt. you follow them up until you reach the middle of his back, and then lean forward, wrapping your hands around his waist and leaning your head between his shoulder blades.
“you shouldn’t say maybe to that,” you whisper, and kuroo stays quiet. you can feel his arm moving as he mixes the sauce around—it’s stiff in that inexperienced kind of way, like he knows the movement but not the feeling to it all. “tetsu?”
he hums, sparing you a glance backwards before he stirs the pasta that’s been boiling.
“you plan on responding to me?” you ask. there’s a teasing lilt to your voice that makes a bit of laughter bloom somewhere in kuroo’s lungs, and it’s enough for you to feel the rush of breath through him.
“yeah, yeah sure,” he says, and then you watch as he examines a singular noodle that he’s pulled out of the water. he turns, pasta balancing on the spoon. “this look done to you?”
you hold back the laughter that threatens your voice and pluck the pasta away from kuroo before popping it into your mouth. you nod at him, choosing to ignore that the pasta’s probably just a moment or two past done.
he moves away from you to empty the pasta into a strainer, and you lean against the island counter, eyeing him.
“what’s got you all quiet tonight?” you ask, and he still doesn’t respond for another moment or two. he’s too busy tossing the pasta in the strainer and grabbing bowls from the cabinet, apparently, but then he does:
“i promise i’m just concentrated,” he starts, and then grabs some pasta and puts it into the bowl. he continues over to the stove, pouring some sauce on top of them as he continues. “i just-” he turns, and then offers the bowl to you—full of pasta and sauce and even a little bit of parmesan on top, “i wanted to do something nice for you.”
and looking at the bowl of spaghetti and sauce that you have in your hands, the way it’s warm and probably a little too garlicky and a little too done, you could cry. but the good way—the way with a smile pulling at your face and the way that makes you want to hug your boyfriend for all he’s worth. because, as you’ve seen for the past 20 minutes, this little dinner is full of bits of kuroo, and you’re pretty sure that it could taste terrible and you’d still love it.
but instead of crying, you look up at him, and you smile.
“well, you did it,” you say, and then reach up, pinching his cheek between your thumb and forefinger, and you watch the blush spread across his nose. “i’m proud of you, y’know?”
and he laughs, “for making spaghetti?”
(it’s more, much more than making spaghetti, and you think that you could make a list of all the things you’re proud of him for if you wanted to. maybe one day you will, but for now, you’re pretty sure that loving you is right at the top).
“sure,” you reply, “for making spaghetti.”
Just One Reason (Chapter 2)
Just One Reason
Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader
Summary: Y/N has been working hard as a criminal investigator and always comes home to their lover Nat. When they come home tonight, however, something is different.
Chapter summary: Y/N definitely wasn’t expecting to end up in between an investigation and the Avengers’ issues, but yet. Suddenly secrets are uncovered and you can’t keep everything the same anymore.
Warnings: Cheating, implied sexual interactions, swearing, lots of implications to abuse, murder, blood/gore, PTSD, anxiety attacks, alcohol , self-harm, kidnapping, (stay safe loves
A/N: After a lot of thought, we might end up with more than three parts, so yay for that! Thank you for all the support on the last chapter, because it left me utterly shocked and I’m so happy about it! And for those of you who were confused on the timeline, there’s a bit of an explanation of it in here so yeah.
PS: Italics means flashbacks, bolded italics are thoughts
Current Word Count: 10.2K
Chapter Dedication!! Dedicating this chapter to @nighttime-dreaming and @kassxndre who have been so incredibly kind to me and keep me wanting to write this fic
SUNDAY, 7:47 AM
14 HOURS SINCE THE TEXT
“This, Director Fury, was not a funny hoax,” You growled at him from the back of your throat. The text had come from him, and he didn’t even know their location. It had taken everything in you not to punch his good eye until he didn’t have one.
“Officer Y/L/N, you must understand that we knew it was the only way to get you in here,” He insisted in his usual cool and calm voice. You frowned, your entire face just one big scowl.
“Because your efforts are beyond the laws and completely reckless and unethical! If you weren’t a group of powerful people, you’d all be in jail for life. And I’d enjoy being the one to do it.” Crossing your arms, the rest of the elevator ride was in complete, and utterly blissful might you add, silence. Entering the actual compound for the first time had you fuming from the very beginning. You had been taught by the NYPD that the Avengers were ruthless with the law and they never abided by the government-placed laws. You glared at everyone in front of you, scanning the area for any signs of the redhead or the witch, but nothing seemed to show they were there. You knew you shouldn’t care, but it couldn’t be helped at this point, you were still way too caught up in everything work related that you hadn’t really flushed out the remaining emotions towards the women.
“What is it you want, Fury? I don’t have all day, you fucker. If you’re here to fix something, you aren’t going to succeed, so you can just let me leave.” Your words were so bitter, even Thor himself looked mildly taken back. Clearly, they knew about what had happened a week ago, but they hadn’t expected a reaction like that.
“We have no intention of getting into that side of the business, but as you are likely aware, both Wanda and Agent Romanoff haven’t been on the scene since Wednesday.” He paused, waiting for your reaction. You just gave a solemn nod and waited for him to continue. “We have no ideas on their whereabouts as they left on their own accord without our knowledge. We did not send them out on a mission of any sorts, and thus, they have been put as MIA.”
The Avengers around you looked sorrowful. You hadn’t seen any of them this way since the war against Thanos, in which Bruce Banner and Clint Barton had sacrificed themselves for the better half of the population that had been snapped away. They were acting like the two women had died or something, and that made you slightly uncomfortable.
“Give me access to their rooms. I’ll begin an investigation,” You said at last, turning to face Director Fury. He gave a nod, and began to guide you into the dormitory area of the compound. It was just you and him at that point, and he decided this would be a great time to push you around a bit.
“I’m aware of your secret, Y/N. It never went under my radar.”
You turned to look at him, a look of distaste on your face. “If this is a ploy to get me to join your little mismatched group of heroes, it’s an automatic failure.”
“No ploy, no trickery. I am just stating I know about you. I know your secret, your little power of yours.” He gestured towards your back, causing your face to heat slightly, out of both anger and embarrassment. He knew about your power, sure, but he shouldn’t know about the scars.
“Will you explain it in more detail, Officer Y/L/N? Or must I continue?” He pushed further, taking note of the way you gritted your teeth together and clenched them in anger.
“My ability to see into the multiverse is none of your concern, Director Fury. Nor are the things I do within it. It has only happened twice, and I have no intention of doing it again."
He smiled now, only slightly, because this is Fury we’re talking about. You were so furious that you thought you might punch a hole in the wall, until you reached the door of Natasha’s room. Opening the door, you slammed it in his face. You turned your attention to the room you were in. It reminded you of her too much, the way it even held the same smell of her hair, that smell of poppies and vodka, and somehow that smell was good. You bit your lip, holding back a flood of emotions. It pained you to see all the things that you had seen her wearing to date, all lined neatly on her bed as if she had just unpacked. You noticed a few of the things you had bought her were in an organized chest by her bed, but when you opened the chest more, you found some of the most important items missing. The picture you took on your first date, the one she carried in her pocket at all times, wasn’t in there, and neither was the pair of matching converse you had gotten custom designed with the black widow logo on them. Had she taken them with her, or did she just throw them out? You swallowed down the thoughts, thinking, Come on Y/N, you have a job to do. Don’t be moping over a girl who spent her entire relationship cheating on you.
You slapped your face a couple times, lightly, and went back to checking for any clues on where she had disappeared to. When you entered the bathroom, you were surprised to find many of the photos the two of you had taken taped to her mirror, and you had to suppress your soft smile. Maybe she did care, just maybe you took things the wrong way, maybe you should have let her talk. Then, you had that urge, that sting on your back, and you sighed deeply. Lifting up your shirt, you turned your head as you glanced at your back through the mirror. Hundreds, probably, of scars littered it, with most old, but a beat red one on your lower right side meant only one thing to you.
“There goes another one…” you muttered to yourself, wincing as it stung once more before fading into just another old scar, like any other on your back. Rolling your shirt back down, you noticed a note out of the corner of your eye. It was in such an odd spot, as if whoever wrote it knew only you would be able to find it. Pulling it out from its odd position behind a tile in the bathtub, you unfolded it and began reading its contents.
“Well, I guess Director Fury will probably send Y/N to find you, don’t you think Natasha? It’s okay though, I think that’s what we both want. They’ll come running to save you, won’t they? Like a dog on a leash, eh? You really had them fooled, you did Ms. Romanoff. You didn’t mean to, but you put them right into your grasp and maybe now you can wring them dry. Unless you’re actually in love with them. Oh, that would make things so much more fun, yeah? Take your little witchy girl too, she’ll be fun! And to think you could have both, oh dear Natasha, you can’t have either.”
You must have read it four or five times for it to really stick in your head. What the fuck was that? Didn’t mean to have you fooled? Was Natasha up to something and dragging Wanda into it? You frowned so deeply that it physically hurt your face. Something wasn’t adding up. It was a type note, god damn it, so there was no way of identifying anyone through means of handwriting, and there wasn’t enough for someone to depict anyone’s writing style for a hit. You gripped the side of your head with your free hand in an act of frustration, before standing. Turning to leave the room and report back to Fury, you paused by the mirror again. Your eyes found one photo in particular, it was about three months after your first night with Nat. She had taken it while you weren’t looking, you were shoving a hamburger down your throat at your favorite dinner. She was grinning and trying not to laugh, and the way her cheeks squished into her eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like she was actually happy there. You hesitated, then grabbed the photo and shoved it into your pocket. Exiting the room, you almost crashed into the playboy himself.
“Woah, watch where you’re standing, robot!” You hissed as you collided into him. He was just as surprised as you were, and you both hit the ground with a thud. You stood first, and did not offer him a hand, so he pushed himself to his feet, grumbling something about you being a bitch. It took all your mental power to not just grab at his weird-ass heart thing and pull it out. Stuck up asshole. You said to yourself in your head, for once mildly sad Wanda wasn’t there to giggle at it. You cursed at Fury mentally for not being there and making you walk around the compound looking for him. Finally, after one or two more awkward conversations with the Avengers, you sighed with relief when you saw the eye-patched man.
“Director Fury?” You asked, trying to pull his attention to you. He turned to face you, raising an eyebrow at what you wanted. You silently showed him the note, and after he read it, asked, “Do you know who wrote this?”
“No. I have no idea. This is… not something I’ve heard about from her.” His response made you a bit upset, now you felt yourself getting slightly worried.
“That’s alright, I’ll just take this back to the station and have the NYPD deal with i-”
“I’m afraid you can’t do that, Mx. Y/L/N. This investigation stays here,” Fury warned, rewarding him with one of your meanest glares. “I apologize but the police have a way of putting things into the public eye and we cannot have that. We told the press they were on an official hiatus. If it gets out that they are actually MIA, it will send the public into a panic.”
“The public will panic over anything, this is no exception. If anything, it’ll get your little squad of random heroes a bit more of public excitement as this investigation will keep everyone on their toes. Isn’t that what you guys love? You guys seem to really enjoy the attention. Why is this different? Because they’re missing and you’ll be seen as failures for your lack of protection over a former Russian assassin and an unstable witch who can’t always control her damn powers. I’ve seen this before Fury, and in that universe, that witch ripped through your world like it was paper,” you retorted. You weren’t lying, you had seen this in a different universe, but the circumstances were different. It was obvious though, whatever was going on, this could go horribly wrong if either of them got seriously hurt enough for Wanda to lash out.
He had no response for that, and so you left the building. You drove yourself back to your old apartment. You knew if Nat had left, she left something behind here for you to find. You felt like you were playing a mix of hide and seek and a scavenger hunt, and by God you hated it. Glancing around, you knew not much had changed since the last time you had come, other than the tons upon tons of vodka bottles scattered around the rooms. Apparently you weren’t the only one drowning your problems with alcohol that was for sure. That same old Nat smell filled every part of the apartment, but it also had the smell of Wanda, the cherry cola and the scent of lavender. Somehow, the scents together still made you feel comforted, despite the circumstances. You just wanted to curl up with Wanda and Nat and have them hold you and let you relieve yourself of all these pent up emotions. You missed them both, and you loved them both. You didn’t understand how Nat could be so distraught by what happened if it meant nothing to her. Because it had to have meant nothing to her, if she never even told you about Wanda.
You hit the wall with your fist, and you hit it again. Before you even knew it, there was blood trickling down your hand and around your wrists and your knuckles were gashed open. Tears streaked your face, you tried to wipe them away but the stains were already there. Heaving a hefty sigh, you felt a strong urge to go into your living room. Following your gut, you entered to find that same gut feeling pulling at the couch. No, not at the couch. Under it. You knelt down, getting on your knees and leaning down to see another note. Expecting to find the second note to be written by the same person as the first, you were utterly surprised to find Wanda’s handwriting. Well, partially. It was shaky, much shakier than hers was even on the worst nights of drinking or, well, anything. It had you nervous as you read the lines of what was Wanda’s true worst nightmare. It didn’t make sense, she had written, that somehow it was like seeing double. How were they here when they had just left my life, for a second time? It’s like the multiverse is playing some cruel joke on me.
You pouted at the word “multiverse”. You were hoping that what you thought it was, that it couldn’t be that. It shouldn’t be possible, you had rid yourself of that ability, had you not? No, Y/N. Don’t second guess yourself, you did it right. It had worked, you saw it. You assured yourself that it was just a trickery of Wanda’s eyes, that this was just a mistake in her head. You stood, folding the note carefully, and placed it securely in your jacket pocket. Making your way into the bedroom, you began looking through drawers, searching for anything else they had left behind. Opening one drawer, however, left you with a malfunctioning brain. There lay the two hoodies you had been missing, messly tossed back in there like they had just been worn but not enough to be washed, or maybe, they didn’t want to wash them. One had Nat’s unique smell, and the other smelled of the witch herself, and you found yourself surprised to still find the faint smell of your favorite beer still on them, probably from a spill or something. You choked back even more tears, before picking one up and putting it up to your nose. You ended up burying your face into it, this one smells like Wanda, and allowed yourself to curl up on the bed and cry once more. The tears fell, and you just let them. You hated that you still loved them, they had broken your heart, both of them, and yet, you wanted nothing more than to be with them. You wanted their love, their words and their kisses, their affection, you wanted their issues and their problems, you wanted their drunken asses and their emotional breakdowns. You wanted it all, just once more. You had left behind this feeling of longer in the old universe, and you made the deal with yourself to switch, to be free from that. This universe was supposed to be different. Then why wasn’t it?
The sting on your back brought you back to reality. There went yet another one, you groaned at the thought. Why did this have to be you? You didn’t ask for any of this, and you definitely didn’t think anything like this would happen when it started. Everyone always talked about Wanda and Strange and how brilliant their powers were, and even America Chavez, who you hated with all your guts. Oh their powers are revolutionary! Brilliant even! Never before been seen! Yeah, well, never before been seen in this universe. You knew that they weren’t that special, that everyone has them in some universe. An endless multiverse, who were they to think they were unique? You, now, you were unique. You weren’t like them, you were special. Multiverse after multiverse, and you never found anyone else with this ability. This… was it an ability or a damned curse? You felt like it was both a gift and a curse. You got to jump multiverses and live your lives whenever you pleased! But you had to trade with the you from that multiverse, and once they switched, their destinies changed and their fates could leave them dead. It’s not like you knew their fates before you swapped, but it always hurt to find out they died. Even when you don’t swap with them, you still get those fucking scars on your back at their deaths. You could only blame yourself, your single upset in your original universe sent you spiraling and you did anything you could to get away.
You laughed hollowly at the thought, remembering in one universe where the Avengers were just a made up story, the movie they had released that showed Wanda tearing the multiverse apart. You remembered the universe where that actually happened and you could only roll your eyes through the movie as this version of Wanda stated a couple of very Wanda comments and it almost felt like that actor could have been Wanda. Probably because in every other universe, she is. But you still got a laugh out of it. You sighed, pulling yourself back together as you set down the hoodie. You smiled at the thought that they had kept them. You definitely had this whole thing wrong. Looking at your watch, you hadn’t even realized that the day was basically over and you had gone the whole day without a single thing to eat. On top of that, you could hear your phone ringing for what was probably the ninth time in that hour. Kate and Yelena were definitely worried, especially when you never came home for dinner that night, and didn’t show up the next morning, not to mention you ignored all their texts for the entire day today. Yeah, they were going to be pissed. Huffing, you got to your feet and grabbed at your phone in the living room.
“Hello?” You said into the phone, bracing yourself.
You needed that bracing because Kate came at you with full force, “Where the fuck have you been, Y/N? We have been worried sick, you asshole! Yelena, come here, you don’t have to call the police anymore, this dipshit finally picked up.”
You muttered some sort of an apology, but Kate grumbled that you needed more than an apology to save you. You tried to defend yourself, to explain, “Look, Kate. I wanted to go home last night, I did, but I got caught up in something.”
“Caught up in what? What could it have been that made you not even answer any of our texts?” You could hear Yelena shout from probably five feet away, trying to make sure she was heard. She didn’t seem angry as much worried, she was never one for lack of communication. You and her had gotten extremely close when you became a friend of Kate’s. You had similar personalities, though she was much better at controlling her anger than you. Probably all those years of the Red Room, which had been taken down long ago, but she was always the one keeping you from throwing the first punch.
After a moment, you grunted, “The Avengers.”
Silence rang for way too long before Kate spoke, “What the fuck do they want? Can’t they see you don’t want anything to do with them? You literally just broke up with Nat, you dated Wanda, and you’re a part of the NYPD, who are basically their biggest enemy. They’re practically asking you to punch Fury in his one-eyed face!”
The sigh you let out was enough for Kate to soften her voice, choosing to let that go. “Where are you right now, Y/N? We’ll meet up with you for dinner tonight. Have you eaten?”
“At my old apartment, grabbing some last things that Nat had forgotten,” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were at your apartment and you were going to take the hoodies. “No. I haven’t eaten. It’s been a hell of a day, I completely forgot about it.”
You heard shuffling from the other line, before you heard Yelena take the phone from Kate. Her voice made you feel better in an instant, the blonde Russian had a way of doing that to you. “Meet us at Mel’s Pizza. We’ll pay, you just eat, дурак (stupid).”
This gave you a slight smile and you nodded, “Alright. See you there, пончик (donut).” You could hear her smirk at your nickname for her. It was one of the few words you could remember in Russian, and it stuck with her.
“Yeah, yeah, sure, Умник (nerd).”
The call ended. You could breathe again, thank goodness. You were so thankful for some pizza that you almost left the apartment without the hoodies. Grabbing them and rushing out the door, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d need to come back. Like you were missing something. You ignored the feeling, happily driving to Mel’s Pizza. You made it there about five minutes before Kate and Yelena, so you grabbed a table and sat down, scrolling through your phone. Then a message popped up at the top of your phone from your head officer.
“We found something in the Bronx Zoo case. Surveillance footage shows that based on the autopsy report of death at 15:09 pm on Sunday, July 16th of 2023, our prime suspect was on 21st Street, meaning there was no way he could have been there during the time of the murder. We’re back at square one.”
A frustrated sigh left your lips and Kate pulled the phone from your hands, turning it for her to read. Wait, Kate? Oh shit, they must have gotten here while you were busy in your thoughts. Yelena slid next to you, sharing that side of the booth, she threw an arm over your shoulder and squeezed lightly, her silent sign that she was there. You took your hat off and plopped it on her head, giving her your best grin. She gave you a smile in return, before flagging down the waitress, who you might add, was very hot. She ordered a beer for you, a vodka for me, and a water for Kate, who just rolled her eyes as she watched the two of you debate over the best alcohol types. For a moment, it all felt normal, like your life was returning to normal for just a moment. You could feel at peace without worrying about your ex-girlfriends or any curses, or powers whatever someone would phrase it, and just enjoy the time you’re having with the two best friends in the world. Deep down, you knew the three of you could never fully like the Avengers, with Nat leaving Yelena in the Red room, Clint giving himself up to save the world and in return, leaving his wife, kids, and Kate all alone, making Kate’s dream of becoming the next Hawkeye an empty goal, and yourself, who had your heart torn apart twice by two Avengers.
The pizza came and, within twenty minutes, had been absolutely devoured by the three of you. You felt full, thankfully because God, you had been so hungry. Grinning from ear to ear now, probably because you had drank at least 4 more beers than Yelena and thus you had won your little drinking game, you let out a chuckle. In your head, you felt in that moment, free from all the guilt that had been building up in your consciousness for so long now. The guilt of all of your deaths, the guilt of the pain you had caused by switching lives with them, because you knew it was all over now. You wouldn’t switch again, you couldn’t! You were happy here, for the first time in who knew how long, you were happy with this life, happy with this universe. The haunting trauma of your original universe slipped away in that moment, you couldn’t even remember it. You didn’t have to envision the look in your father’s eyes, the pooled blood, you could just look in your friends eyes and their smiles could make everything okay. Because everything was okay, wasn’t it?
Well, if you ignore that both your exes are currently listed as MIA and you still had a murder case on your hands. That you still had to fix all the problems that were piling up, and that other than Kate’s apartment, you were borderline homeless. Okay, so maybe things weren’t entirely okay, but in your drunk state, you couldn’t really care too much. Yelena, who had stopped drinking before she got too drunk, decided to drive home in Kate’s car and Kate would drive you home in your own car. You sat in the passenger seat, hugging the two hoodies and sniffing into them occasionally.
“What are you doing, Y/N?” She asked you, to which you responded in a slurred tone, “Smelling them…” You hiccupped. “They still smell like them.”
“Smell like who?”
“They smell like Natty and Wans.”
Kate visibly cringed at the nicknames and rolled her eyes. “I thought you hated them.”
“I doooo.” You insisted, grumbling and lolling your head back. “I hate them so much, but I miss them, Katey!” You bit your lip, trying not to start crying like a loser. “What if they didn’t actually mean to hurt me?”
“They both cheated on you with each other, Y/N. How could they not mean to?”
“Well, I mean,” you hiccupped, “If they wanted to hurt me, why would Nat keep my hoodies? Why would there be vodka bottles scattered around,” you felt another hiccup slip out. “That doesn’t seem like someone who wants to break a heart does.”
Kate couldn’t entirely argue with that logic, and thus, the rest of the car ride was filled with music. The lyrics to the song Yelena had taught you floated through the car.
“Bye, bye, Miss American Pie. Drove the Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry, them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, Singing, ‘This'll be the day that I die’. This will be the day that I die”...
When you got home that night, you were exhausted and very, very drunk. You didn’t really care though, as you flopped down on your bed. You didn’t feel the blood on your arm at first. You didn’t notice until the morning. You had gone to take a shower, and you were examining your back, completely ignoring your arm until you felt a sharp pain on your forearm. Glancing at it, you found that there on your arm, carving into your forearm’s skin, was the black widow’s symbol.
And a message, of sorts. There were no words, but the symbol said it all. It said only one thing,
You. Deserve. This.
Taglist: @high--power , @mommylizzieswhore , , @len-98 , @leenasayeed , @cristin-rjd , @daenerys713
(If the taglist doesn’t work, I plan on responding to you on the original post so you still get the notification :D)
hiii! i see that you are an atiny!!! do you think you could write something about jealous!san? :D
if you aren't taking requests! that's completelty fine! i hope you have a good day anyways!
sorry, it took so long lol <3 thank u for the request
jealous!san x y/n
friends to lovers lol
smut - minors dni
wanting the perfect boyfriend was hard- but extremely hard when you held yourself to apparently 'high standards'. your friends always said that the perfect guy for you was right beside you, but you never paid any attention to him because you deemed yourself to be higher than some drunk guy you met five minutes at the bar.
there is nothing wrong with having high standards. but sometimes you even frustrated yourself by how picky you are when it comes to men. if someone did one thing that turned you off from them- that was it. there were no second chances, even if you had been talking to them for twenty seconds- you didn't care.
you realized in high school how selective you were when it came to men. losing your virginity was a battle that you had somehow won with a guy that went to the high school across town for your own.
you thought being picky in high school was fine since your town only had so many people. you told yourself and your friends that college in a bigger city would lessen your expectations. there would be tons of men that you could date!
it seemed that college had only made your standards of men even higher.
there were a few men that you had hooked up with since your freshmen year of college. but now that you were in your third year- your income of men had decreased rather quickly.
your friend group had started hanging out with kim hongjoong's friend group around spring break last year. it started with your friend hooking up with hongjoong at a couple of parties- eventually leading to his friend meeting her friends and suddenly all of you were one big friend group.
your friend and hongjoong had decided to remain friends- for the sake of the newly developped, tight knit friend group they had somehow accidently created. so, your fun nights with your friends continued you on with everyone usually going home with someone except for you.
out of hongjoongs seven friends, you had become the closest with choi san.
san was funny, sweet and you guys had a lot in common because he also held himself to a certain standards when it came to getting a girlfriend. but, in a way that was quite different than you.
he took the approach where he had sex with every woman he landed his eyes on and could bring back to his dorm room within twenty minutes of talking to her.
it started during his freshman year of college.
his friends from high school, mingi and wooyoung, had no idea when and how san started getting with so many woman in a short time span, but who were they to tell him to stop?
san wasn't a douchebag per se, but not every girl that he hooked up with understood that san just wanted sex. so, there was a group of woman on campus that seemed to glare everytime they saw him or any of his friends (including you).
besides san's long list of people he's slept with, he was caring and even a little cling when it came to his friends. if he wasn't cuddling with wooyoung, then he was cuddling with you.
you two had slept in the same bed together numerous amount of times; too drunk after a party to go back to your dorm, hongjoong and your friend booked off your apartment for sex, and there was that one time where san and you both got rained on and caught in a sudden storm so he made you come to his dorm since it was closest.
san was there for you a lot of times when you needed someone. he was there when you needed to cry, to rant, to just sit with someone because you couldn't bare being alone for a second longer that day. he was your study buddy and your drunk dance partner.
in a way, you were glad that your friend chose kimhongjoong out of anyone to hook up with- because then you wouldn't have met san.
you're sure that you always thought choi san was physically attractive. his dimples, plush lips, high cheekbones and fit body were hard to not notice sometimes. you weren't really surprised when you found out he was basically the campus' fuck boy.
but you weren't sure when you started having feelings towards your attractive friend.
there was one night where your friends had left the club earlier than you and san- leaving you two to dance and drink for three more hours. you think if the two of you weren't alone, san would'v eleft hours before with one of the many girls that was staring at him all night, but he didn't want to leave you alone.
plus, he was having fun with you.
when the club closed for the night, san and you pouted at each other drunkly before stumbling your ways through the city back to his apartment. you leaned on each other since you were both too intoxicated to stand straight at that point.
you were giggling and trying to shush each other as you entered his sharted apartment with yunho, trying not to wake him.
san tossed you one of his shirts and sweatpants as you both turned around and slipped out of your party clothes and into pyjamas for the night. you both promised to not turn around and look at the other one changing, still giggling as you teased each other.
san's bed was comfy and it smelt like him and alcohol since it was surrounding your bodies. san's room was smaller, but cozy and it fit san so much that you liked it.
you were both laying on your sides to face one another, the moon shining in on your faces. giant, drunk smiles were on your faces as you spoke.
"you're pretty." san admits suddenly, analyzing your face against his pillow.
"you're pretty." you confess back to him, making him roll his slightly red eyes from the alcohol. his pale cheeks were plushed with colour as well, and his lips were red from biting them and licking them all night as he danced.
san's hand swivels it's way between your bodies, until it's up and grazing your own lips with his thumb. his finger is so soft on your bottom lip but you can still feel the heat radiating off of it. your giant, drunk smiles start to fade slowly as you both take in his action.
his cozy bedroom grows silent as your minds begin to fill with thoughts about one another. san really thinks then that you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen and he can't wait to fuck you.
but then he realizes who exactly you are: his best friend.
his best friend that has a hard time opening up to people. his best friend that usually hates phsical affection unless it's from him. his best friend that holds men to a high standard that she doesn't allow herself to fully fall in love. and he knows for certain that there is no way in hell that he suits your standards.
his thumb rips away from you at the final thought. he gives you a sheepish smile before he's rolling over onto his other side, whispering a final goodnight to you before he closes his eyes for the night.
his actions keep you awake for most the night as he snores softly beside you.
another time was when you had the worst first and last date in the middle of your senior year, a few weeks after the thumb-brushing-your-lip-in-his-bed occurence.
the guy you had agreed to go on the date with, who had begged you to go on one date with him in the first place, ended up getting a call from his ex girlfriend in the middle of the date and then got up and left you with a mumbled apology.
you paid the bill with tears in your eyes, the waitress trying to quietly comfort you as you only softly smiled at her and left. you sat on a bench around the corner from the restaurant, crying into your hands.
you thought at the moment that you wouldn't like any other guy you would meet. all of them turned out to be pointless anyways and you were tired of getting your heart hurt.
"what the hell are you doing crying out on a bench at 8pm on a friday?" a famailiar voice said behind you.
you turned and saw san standing behind you with a concern yet amused expression on his face. you could tell instantly by his outfit that he was on his way to a party or a club for the night.
"had the worst date possible." you mutter out at your friend.
san's face drops at your statement, cursing the guy for making you cry in a way he thought a friend would do.
san sits down next to you on the bench then, sitting back and drapping his arm lazily around you, squeezing your shoulder gently. "aren't you the one that always says men are douchebags?"
you scoff, "yeah, i am."
"then why are you crying about a douchebag?" san shakes his head at you, "he's literally such a douchebag that he was too blind to see how amazing you are, how caring and funny. he literally just missed the best chance in his life and he's gonna realize that sooner or later."
you sigh and nod at your best friend's word, "i know, but-."
"nope! no but's!" san sits up as he cuts you off, "let's forget about the douchebag and have fun tonight now. i'm meeting some of the group down the street at that new neon club."
though your outfit wasn't really club ready, you still nodded as san pressed a kiss to your temple, pulling you up after him and running down the streets to the club, your worst date ever being completely forgotten- but a night with san never.
you think maybe not too long after san made you forget your worst date, you started realizing that you had feelings for him.
every touch or gesture or compliment that would mean almost nothing to you before, now made your heart jolt every time san would do it : a hand landing on your waist as he squeezed past you to get a cup, giving you a shirt to wear when you didn't want to wear your dress anymore, telling you he thinks you're pretty with your new hair colour.
at first, you tried to rationalize with yourself. it's choi san. you're best friend. the campus fuckboy. the idiot that gets into dating rumours across campus with wooyoung.
you continued to try to priortize your friendship with san but it was proven to be hard quickly.
usually, you wouldn't bat an eye if you all realized he had disappeared for the night- either to his or his girl of the nights' apartment.
but tonight, the moment that yunho groaned and said he's tired but probably wouldn't be able to sleep for another hour or two since san has most likely left now with a girl, your heart clenched. the rest of your friends all laughed at yunho's dillemma while your eyes started to dart around the full house party you were all at, trying to spot a famillar head of black hair.
"you good, y/n?" your friend smiled at you, noticing the way you were zoning out after not being able to locate san.
"hm?" you looked at her, realzing that all of your friends were now looking at you at her question, "yeah, i'm fine, i think i'm gonna head home now, though."
"you are leaving early?" wooyoung exclaimed, not him or the rest of yoru friends believing their eyes.
"since when do you ever leave early?" mingi asked in shock, he put his hand over your forehead, "are you feeling okay? did you hit your head or anything?"
you giggled and pushed his hand off of you, "i'm fine guys, i just had a large test today and it really made me tired so, i'll see you tommorrow or something." your friend grouop groaned as you waved them goodbye, trying to hold in your emotions for a while longer so you could escape this awful, house party.
turns out, you should've stayed a minute or so longer, because the first thing yous ee as you step out onto the lawn is san shoving his tongue down a girls throat against a pole by the curb. his hands are roaming down her body roughly as her hands are tangled up into his hair, pulling at the strands.
you don't know how long you exactly stood there watching the pair, but they never pull away until a cab pulls up beside them. san pecks her lips once more before oopening the door for her, patting her ass as she crawls in- him following her inside quickly after.
you watch the cab drive away as tears pour down your cheeks. you hate that you're so easily broken at the sight of your best friend leaving with a girl. you're certain san doesn't know the way you've been feeling about him as you don't even know your feelings.
all you know is that you wish you were the random girl leaving with san instead.
your friends started to realize that you weren't yourself fairly quickly as you continued to leave early at every single party or club. everytime san would leave with his girl of the night, you'd leave a few minutes after, not being able to bare the thought of what san was up to as you stood alone at a party while your friends all enjoyed themselves.
san had no idea that you were acting strange since you were leaving after him, until he overheard yunho and mingi talking about you in their kitchen.
"if y/n says she's fine then she's fine, why can't you just believe her?" minghi groaned out at yunho who stood on the other side of the small island.
"but why should we believe her? when she's at the party she doesn't even engage with us anymore." yunho pouted.
"what are you guys talking about?" san asked from his spot on the couch, looking over at his two friends.
"oh, see we should ask her best friend, he'll know." mingi poked his tongue out at yunho, 'y/n's fine, right?"
san titled his head confused, "why wouldn't she be fine?"
"have you not noticed her recently? she's been leaving parties early, saying she's tired all the time, doesn't even answer our invitations out sometimes." yunho explained to san who only remained with a confused expression because no, he has not noticed that.
"i didn't know she was leaving early." san asked, a frown pulling onto his face at the topic of your recent actions.
so san decided to head over to your place the next day, wanting to see what was so wrong with you that everyone in your friend group seemed to be worried about.
when you opened your apartment door to see san standing there with a concerned look on his face and a bottle of wine you didn't know what to expect but still ushered him to come in and sit down on your couch.
it had been awhile since you and san had hungout with just the two of you. the last time you were alone together, you didn't have a huge, heart wrenching crush on him.
"so, how're your classes going?" san asked you, pouring the wine in a glass for you before one of himself.
"they're fine." you shrug, immediately grabbing the glass and drinking it.
san could tell that you were avoiding eye contact with him, barely even looking in his direction when he spoke to you. it handled your awkward self for an hour before he snapped and asked you what was wrong and why you were acting so weird.
"what?" you let out quickly, "i'm not being weird, i'm fine."
san raised an eyebrow at you before grabbing a hold of your arm and tugging you over to his side of the couch, only faces only inches apart now. "really? then why are you being so distant and awkward? why are you barely going out anymore?"
and you blame the wine for making you so honest, "because it's not fun when you're not there- when you're gone with someone else."
san sat back on your couch and looked at you with an expression you couldn't read, he was not expecting that as you answer. a small smirk spread across his face after a few moments of shock, "so you're jealous, hm?"
"what? no!" you hurried to get out, shaking your head no, "of course not!"
san rolled his eyes and put his hands up in defense, "okay okay!" he laughed out at your shocked expression, "but," he started, one of his hands landing on your thigh, "it would be kinda cute if you were."
you turned away from your friend, not being able to process his words or this whole situation. you couldn't tell if he was just teasing you or not like he usually does.
"c-cute?" you tried to sound relaxed but your stutter gave your nervousness away. your vision seemed to be locked onto the way his hand was lazily playing with the fabric of your sweatpants.
san shrugged in agreement, "yeah, i mean, i get jealous when you leave with other guys."
your eyes widened at his confession, "w-what? you do?"
san smirked at your genuine surprise, "yeah." the contrast between how calm san was compared to your unhinged state was something you could laugh at if you weren't just hearing your best friend confess something to you that you have only dreamed of a million times before.
"san!" you shoved his shoulder playfully, "stop fucking playing with me!" you laughed out, not believing him in the slightless.
"i'm not!" san shook his head with a smile of his own. "i get pissed, too."
you scoff at that, "yeah, and why's that?" you asked sarcastically, thinking that he must one hundred percent be joking right now.
"because they don't deserve you." san's tone of voice became serious, and you felt his fingers start to play with the hair at the back of your head. you turn to face him, seeing the almost dazed expression on his face as he wrapped your hair strands around his fingers loosely. when his eyes met yours he continued, "and from what you've told me," he paused as his eyes drifted to your lips, biting his bottom one before meeting your eyes again, "they don't fuck you right, either."
"san." you almost whine out, pulling your head away from his hand, trying to make your head clear so you could process what he was saying.
"what?" he tilted his head in confusion, "y/n, have you really not thought about you know, you and me before?" he took your silence as a 'yes' and let out a dry laugh. you felt him move closer beside you on the couch. "why're you being so shy now? it's okay if you've thought about us before, because I've thought about it, too."
you turn your head at his yet another, confession. you wondered how many more will be spoken tonight at this rate.
your faces were close together when you look at him, the air in your living room becoming dense as you look at one another with a glint of something in each other's eyes.
"can i kiss you, y/n?"
when you nod gently in agreement, his lips press against yours softly. he doesn't try to slip his tongue into your mouth. your lips meet with a passion that lasts as long as the very short kiss did. he pulls away and stays an inch away from you, both of yours meet flickering between your lips and your eyes.
"this isn't gonna change much between us, right san?" you whisper out to him, worried that if you spoke any louder your little world with san would collapse.
san smiles softly at your question, his hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear, "of course not, y/n. you're my best friend."
"you're mine, too."
san presses a kiss to your forehead, "we'll go as far as you want to, okay?"
his lips press against yours again, this time with more fervor. his body starts pressing down onto yours so your chests have meshed together and he's lying on top of you. your head is resting on the couch pillow as you try to keep up with san's sudden fast pace.
san starts kissing down your neck, biting softly as he makes his way down it. his hands are massaging your hips, making your body relax further into his touch. your hand comes up to play with san's hair, making him pull away from your neck and press a final kiss to your lips before speaking, "can i feel how wet you are, baby?" the nickname makes you realize just how soaked your panties are at the thought of san and you finally playing out a fantasy of yours.
you meekly nod your head yes, making san tsk at you, his thumb brushes over your lips, "use your words, y/n."
"yes, san." he smirks as you do as your told so easily before pushing his thumb into your mouth, making you wrap your lips around it. he groans softly when your tongue laps across the pad of it, fulfilly wetting it.
you almost whine when he takes it out of your mouth, enjoying the feeling of doing something so intimate with him, but immediately shut up when he slips his hand under your sweatpants and starts massaging your clit with the same thumb, mixing your juices and saliva together.
his thumb runs down from your clit to collect more of your juices onto it. you hear him curse under his breath before asking you, "who got you so wet, y/n?"
"y-you did." you nod to him, watching a smirk grow on his face again.
"how'd i make you get so wet so fast, hm? have you been wanting this for that long, y/n?"
you nod again quickly at his questions, "yes, san, wanted you so bad for so long."
"and you think about how good i could get you to cum?" his thumb is still massaging hard circles into your clit, making your hips start to jerk upwards against his hand, wanting to feel more of him. the words he's speaking to you are dirtier than you've ever imagined him saying out loud. the san on top of you is so different than your best friend that you've known for years.
"yes, san- fuck." you bite your lip, his thumb speeding up circles at your confirmation.
"right, cause you know that none of the other guys you fucked would ever be able to."
you internally groan with embarrassment when you remembered that you've told him that with all the guys you've fucked, not one of them had ever made you cum. your hands cover your face with the realization, making san laugh but not stop rubbing your clit, only slowing down.
"don't be shy, baby, i'll make you feel good- make you forget about all the other guys." he presses a kiss to your neck, pulling your hands away from your face as you grab his own, pulling him to your lips. your lips mesh together again, his thumb speeding up as he draws you closer to your orgasm.
"fuck, san don't stop," you mumble against his lips, looking deep into his eyes as he sped up more.
"yeah? gonna cum already with just my finger?"
"mhm, s-san." your breath starts to get ragged as you hit your climax, feeling yourself clench around nothing as san didn't stop circling your clit.
"fuck, y/n." you heard him groan, opening your eyes to look at him. "so pretty when you cum." if you weren't feeling so dazed from the first orgasm a guy has ever given you then you would've shoved him and told him to shut up, but you couldn't so you let yourself bask in it.
san kissed you again, soft like the first time he did, his hands roaming up your sides gently. "you're okay to do more?"
"please?" you begged him, not wanting it to end yet, dreaming of so much more of him to just let it all stop now.
"let's go to your room." san suggested, you started to stand up but squealed instead when san picked you up, having your lace your legs around his back as you held onto his neck.
"san! i can walk!" you laughed out, pulling away from his neck to look at him.
"i know you can, but isn't it faster if i just carry you?" you groaned at his response and kissed his cheek, swearing to yourself that you could see a slight blush spread against his cheekbones at the action.
san puts you down on your bed on your back. you lean upon your elbows to watch him crawl over to you, you then notice how hard he is in his jean, the bulge making your eyes widen at how big he is.
you've heard around campus that san indeed knows what he's doing in bed and that his dick was bigger than average, but you never really believed it about your best friend since his little fan club of girls seemed to say just about anything nice about him for the hopes of him to maybe take a liking of them.
san noticed where your gaze was stopped over top of you, "we can stop if you want- if it's gotten too mu-."
"no!" you almost yelled, "just- just want you so bad please, san."
"okay, angel, okay." san smiled down at you, pressing his lips once to yours before his hands are trailing up your sides again, taking your shirt with them.
you help him take off the fabric, leaving you in your bra when he takes off your sweatpants as well. you reach around and unclip your bra, san helping you when the straps fall loose on your shoulders.
when you're fully bare in front of the fully clothed san you can't help but feel almost intimidated and insecure in front of the man- in front of your best friend. the way he's looking over your body so slowly and carefully- as if he's taking in every single detail- doesn't help in any way.
you whine out his name when you can't possibly take a second longer of his staring.
"'m sorry 'm sorry, you're so pretty i can't help it- much prettier than i've ever imagined." the mention again of him thinking about seeing you in a way like this makes your heart flutter- even if his thoughts aren't in any way pure.
"wanna see you, too," you tell him, mentally aching to see him undressed.
san takes off his shirt first, letting you see his abs that you've somehow seen one million times in the few years you've been friends with him.
but you've never seen him shirtless where the veins on his arms are prominent as he reaches down to pull off his jeans and boxers. like the rest of his skin, his abdomen and legs are milky white. there's a vein leading down from his lower abdomen to the base of his cock that's standing out to you and makes you wanna trace it with your tongue.
"how come you can stare at me, but i can't stare at you?" san's teasing tone breaks you from another fantasy of him as you look up at him quirking his eyebrow at you.
"i wasn't." you shook your head with a gulp.
"oh, no? your eyes just so happened to land and stay on my dick?"
"san, please," you begged him again, wondering to yourself just how many more times you'd be whining for him tonight.
san doesn't answer this time, only rolls his eyes before he's crawling over top of you, his warmth immediately covering you as he's pressing kisses into your jaw and neck. you can feel his hard dick pressing into your wet core.
"wanna be inside you so bad." san lowly grunts into your ear, his hips gravitating towards yours.
"fill me up, san, please." if you weren't so strung up on the way san was grinding into you naked then you're sure you would've cringed at the way you were begging for him yet, again.
san reaches over to your nightstand where he knows you keep some spare condoms. you hear the package wrinkle as he grabs one, only to abruptly stop soon after.
you look over at him to see what was taking so long- when you saw san holding up your pink vibrator with a smug look on his face.
"jesus christ." you groan out in embarrassment again, "are you trying to kill me?"
san laughs at you again, "no, but at least now i know what you use when you think of me."
"san!" you reach over and shove his shoulder.
"i'm sorry! i'm sorry!" san laughs, pushing your own shoulder so that you were lying back onto your bed. he didn't give you a chance to reply before he was crushing his lips onto yours, his tongue darting across your bottom lip.
when you parted your lips for him to enter, he pulled away, making you pout. san finally started to put on the condom, sliding it down his hard cock. the tip was swollen and leaking pre cum but you found it so pretty at the same time.
"you're sure you're okay with this?" san asked, slotting himself in between your legs, his dick in his hand as he pressed it against your wet slit.
"i'm sure, san." your hand played with the hairs on the back of his neck, "are you sure."
"one thousand percent sure."
you smile up at him at his response, but it quickly leaves your face when he starts to push into you. his girth spread you open in a way that made you wince as you took him in. when he had finally bottomed out inside of you, you swore you could feel him poking your stomach.
san put his head in your neck, and you could hear his heavy breaths in your ear. his hands rubbed your sides as if it calmed him down somehow. "fuck, you're so tight, baby. squeezin' me so well."
"i know- you feel so good already, san."
san pressed a final kiss to your neck before he held his body up on his elbows. his thrusts started out shallow as he tried to find a pace to fuck you at, wanting to find your g spot quickly.
your hands trailed from his neck to his forearms as he started to pick up the pace. you held your legs tightly around his hips so he could enter you deeper and deeper every time.
when he hit the sensitive spot inside of you, your hand came and covered your mouth- wanting to scream at how hard he hit it.
san immediately grabbed your hand- pinning it up and over your head, "no baby, wanna hear you moan my name, want everyone to know who's fucking you so good, yeah?"
your head was filled up with the thought of san- your mind becoming hazy and only being able to think of curses and his name. san continued to pound into you, your legs becoming limp as the pleasure was starting to take over.
"no one's pounded this pussy like this before, right angel? no one's made you feel this good?"
"n-no san- just you! feel so good."
san swept his head down and started to suck on your nipple, biting and grazing it gently with his teeth. "fuck, such perfect tits." he mumbled against your skin, wanting to be able to feel all of you at once. "wanted to see you like this for so long, hated seeing you go home with all those other fuck heads- just wanted you to pick me for once- show you how no one else can fuck you like i can."
"d-didn't- i didn't know, san." you moaned out, it became frustratingly hard to speak at the pace he was fucking into you at. your bedroom was filled with the sounds of your wetness dripping down your thighs and slapping against his own every time your bodies met.
"i know, baby- but n-now, you're mine right? and this pussy's mine??" san grunted out, throwing his head back onto his shoulders as he felt a wave of pleasure go through him- helping him further to his own climax.
"god-! it's yours san! fuck don't stop- so close." you moaned out, feeling the pit of your orgasm in your abdomen.
"yeah- gonna cum all over my dick like the good girl you are?" san purred into your ear, biting onto your jaw, "like my good girl?"
you came undone at his words, "fuck san!" you cried out his name and arched your back off of your bed.
san continued to fuck into you until he felt this own orgasm wash over him, mumbling praises against your skin. you forced yourself to open your post-orgasm closed eyes to watch him cum. the way his hips didn't stutter as he came into the condom surrounded by your wet, warm walls.
his spent body collapsed onto yours, and both of your chests heaved together as you layed together. his familiar scent and sex sprawled across your room as you both took in each others presences- neither of you wanting to move- neither of you wanting to know what would happen after this- just wanting to stay there for as long as possible.
but the condom was getting uncomfortable as san's cock softened and the sweat that was both of your bodies was becoming unbearable to lay in.
san unwantedly pulled out of you and threw his condom into the garbage in the attached bathroom in your bedroom. he got a warm cloth and re-opened your legs- only this time to clean you up.
both of you were silent but content as you let him wipe you- and as you watched him slip on his boxers and shirt- before passing you a fresh pair of underwear and an oversized sweater that he knew you liked to sleep in.
you feel like you were about to fall asleep until you could feel that san hadn't gotten into bed with you yet. you opened your eyes to find him standing with his jeans in his hands- contemplating whether or not he should put them on and leave- or go sleep on the couch- or crawl in with you- or-
"are you gonna lay down, san?" your voice pulled him out of his overthinking thoughts, making a wave of relief wash over him completely.
"do you want me to?"
"well, yeah- plus it's not like we haven't slept together before." you shrugged, trying to remain calm- trying to think that this would just be like every other time you've shared a bed before.
san crawls in beside you- leaving room for another person to probably lay in between you guys. you could feel your sex smell-filled room turn into a room with such awkward tension that you could visibly see it if you walked in.
"do you regret what we just did?" san asked-breaking the silence that had settled upon you.
"no." you answer quickly and confidently, "do you?"
"of course not."
the silence returns with the both of you, him turning around to face you, moving over a tiny bit so he could lay on his side and look at you, "i meant when i said that i got pissed every time you would leave with some idiot- and that i wished it was me instead."
you turn to lay on your side to face him as well, his pale skin looked so pretty with the moonlight and street lams shining in through your window, "good- because i got pissed every time you left with some random girl." san smiled at your confession, his hand reaching out to hold your own.
"i'm glad i met you, y/n a-and i like you- more than a best friend- but i still wanna be best friends if that makes sense." san's cheeks returned with a pink hue on them that the moonlight made visible.
"me too," your fingers intertwined together, his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand, "maybe tomorrow we can go see a movie- like we always do- but maybe this time we can kiss during it?"
both of you laugh at your suggestion, "only if we can go make fun of wooyoung afterward- ya know, like we always do." san adds on to it.
san and you smile at each other in your bed- with no awkward tension- not even any sexual- just peaceful but excited at the same time- with the thoughts of your open feelings for one another floating around your sex scent-filled room.
maybe jealousy can be a good thing when it comes to liking your best friend.