#months ago i did something stupid when i was at my limit and mirrored the pettiness i saw. i was told i would drive someone to suicide. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcybank · 2 years

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LOSING GAME ; S.H (1)

gif credit @acecroft ⟶ summary Hooking up with Steve Harrington was meant to be a one-time thing. What's the worst that could happen if it exceeded its limit? A relationship with a guy that is clearly not over his first love. ⟶ pairing Steve Harrington x Reader. Chapter 1 is set post S-2 and pre S-3 ⟶ warnings fluff to angst, emotional cheating, toxic relationships, violence, mentions of smut, mentions of alcohol, and angst. part one to the losing game series click here to read part two click here to read part three

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There was only one way you could describe your lips once you'd finished getting ready for your date: an extremely bright red.

That, though, barely lasted thirty minutes after your body met the soft leather seat of Steve Harrington's car. First, he gently cupped your jaw with his fingers, handling you as though you were the most delicate human contraption he'd ever laid his eyes on. As the minutes passed, his lips paved their own way from testing to devouring yours.

And when he pulled away, you couldn't help but breathlessly laugh at the sight of his reddened lips, as though you'd completely transferred your lipstick onto him. His brows scrunched together in confusion before he turned to the rearview mirror and matched your laugh.

"I can still never remember this happens every time I kiss you," he grumbled under his breath, wiping at his face.

Your lips curved into a small smile. "Even though it's been four months?"

He paused, then laughed it off and shook his head. But you didn't notice the shadow of something in his eyes when you said that. You didn't want to think too much into it, not now.

But how could you not? You weren't stupid enough to believe Steve Harrington, your boyfriend of four months, only had his attention fixed on you. It wasn't a thought that always ran through your head each time you spent time with him. It just popped out every time you were given a reason to be suspicious. Like today, when he forgot about your four-month anniversary.

You weren't upset, merely disappointed. You didn't think you and Steve would be in a relationship where your lives revolved around each other to the point where they had merged into one. But you certainly did hope that hooking up and getting into a relationship with him would be a step up from being best friends.

And your hopes were fulfilled, sure, but wasn't he supposed to make you feel like he was in it, too? Not just the kisses and the sex—he was definitely in it when it came to those—but the raw part of a relationship, the emotional half of the relationship.

You knew this. You knew exactly how relationships that start from a drunken hookup end. You knew they are painful—not the breakup but the relationship itself—but you didn't think you and Steve had to worry about that. After being best friends since freshman year and getting with people and losing them just as quickly alongside each other, the two of you had seen all the horrors of teenage romance through each other.

If you were thinking about Steve's odd behavior as a boyfriend a month ago, you'd react to all of the signs with the naivete only a girl drunk on love would possess. Now, you were just trying to calculate the situation and the heartbreak.

"I rented Star Wars for us. The dude who rented it three weeks ago finally returned it." He started up the car. His voice brought a certain lull of calm to your chest. "I mean, what are you even doing for three weeks with a two-hour-long movie?"

You chuckled slightly. "Maybe he needed to get his fill of Chewie before giving the tape back."

"Or he was getting it off to Princess Leia."

Just like that, the worries dwindled for the night, and you approached it like it was the last. You knew it wasn't, but it was easier to treat every moment of affection with Steve Harrington by being completely in the moment. When Steve loved, Steve loved hard. And when he didn't? Well, he made you feel like every other person he'd come across by entertaining you with foreign, short-lived small talk and obligatory smiles and hugs.

When you'd awoken beside Steve Harrington that morning, a raging headache piling heavy on you, you weren't sure if you wanted to remember that night before.

But you did. Oh, you remembered every second of it despite the shots of whiskey you'd lost count of after the third clouding your memory. Perhaps that was because it was him you'd spent the night beside and under. You wished it was a dream, a very freakishly realistic dream, but when you noticed the weight of muscular arms over your torso...

Maybe that was your first mistake—not confirming if he's completely over his ex—but that wasn't your fault. If it were anybody else, any other guy you'd hooked up with that was fresh out of a relationship, you would've interrogated him to the core. But Steve's words, you took them as they came. Trusted those words with every inch of your body.

When he told you that the two of you should simply quit dancing around the inevitable, that he'd always wanted to be more than friends with you every time he was single, and that you were it for him, you believed him.

And the part of you that continued believing him was even more fulfilled when Steve's arms effortlessly pulled you to his side, hand caressing your torso while the movie played in front of you. You spent the entire night with your head on his shoulders while he twirled your hair around his finger.

When the credits rolled on the screen, you nor he was eager to hit the hay.

Your fingers, that were brushing through his silk-smooth hair, took a more aggressive approach by grabbing the strands as an invitation.

A glimpse of his teeth was seen underneath the smile decorating his lips as he leaned into you, neck bending to capture your lips with his. "There's no need to get physical with me to tell me you want to get... physical."

The end of his words was slurred as your tongue peeked out and brushed over his bottom lip. His response was instantaneous by gripping your waist and pulling you onto him.

And as you straddled him, you couldn't remember why you were worried about his devotion to you.

As he kissed you so sweetly while making you feel better than any man had, you couldn't remember why he made you stay up late at night with tears streaming down your face.

As he entered your body with a painfully slow thrust, your mind blanked anything that wasn't Steve Harrington and how he made you feel so euphoric.

But when he plopped down beside you and pulled your body flush against his, you wondered how you, like every girl at Hawkins High, were wrapped around Steve's finger.

You convinced yourself as his breathing grew steadier and soft snores filled your ears that this was right. But how could you believe that when he, in his most peaceful state, was saying somebody else's name in a groggy voice.

Your eyes widened at the sound. You usually always fell asleep after Steve, but you'd never been faced with such a clear-cut confrontation on any of those previous nights you laid awake hearing the rhythm of his beating heart.

Could it be that he was just reliving his past when all consciousness and control had left his body? Or perhaps it was the part of his brain that voiced his conscious desires?

"Please, give me a break," you mumbled under your breath as the short-haired girl across from you continued shooting question after question.

Robin Buckley had no filter and, usually, you enjoyed the free spirit she exuded. Today wasn't one of those days as she decided to voice her thoughts on your relationship, which happened to be with a man who was also her best friend.

She drew in a long sigh, and you knew what was coming next. Though you could never be sure with Robin. "I mean, I wouldn't get with somebody who was so in love with their ex, but that might just be me."

You almost felt the ice cream cone slipping from your hands, or maybe you'd crushed it when she said that. You knew she meant no harm, she was just inquisitive about it, but the words hit too close to your insecurities to merely ignore.

You dropped your gaze from her eyes to the table, drawing a small sigh from your lips. "You think he's still in love with her?" you couldn't help but ask; the question was eating away at you.

Robin fixed her hat with discomfort. "I never said that." But her words didn't bring you any comfort, so you merely shook your head. "Seriously, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry—I could just, I don't know—ice cream on the house?" She plastered a huge smile, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're good. This is my third one of the day anyway," you replied, eyes shifting to Scoops Ahoy, which Robin was manning today. "Anyway, enough about me. Let me hear about the—"

"I hope you know that if you say the 'scoops ahoy my life,' that will be the twelfth time you've used that phrase in the last week."

You rolled your eyes teasingly. "How's band going?" You smirked slightly when her face turned a deep shade of red, knowing you had some serious advice stored up somewhere within you to give to Robin.

But even as you talked away, your mind always ended up in the same place no matter what.

Was your boyfriend still pining after Nancy Wheeler?

#f: losing game #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington series #steve harrington smut #stranger things angst #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #possibly lol!#stranger things

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nancywheelersgirlfriend · 2 years

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I really love your ronance fics 😍

There is something id really really like to read: Robin and steve go ring-haunting and then Robin proposes to nancy. Both know they can't actually get married but Robin has this while speech like "i know, and you know, and that's enough for me if it's enough for you"

Basically a bly manor propose scene + ronance ahahah

thank you for the compliment!!! i've never watched bly manor BUT i did watch the clip of the proposal and omg now the show's on my list

i hope u enjoy!!

everytime we say goodbye (3,117 words)

Robin knew it was stupid to be caring about this stuff. This stupid stuff she would never be included in if reality had stayed its course and the apocalypse hadn’t begun six months ago, considering her lack of affection for frilly white dresses and an overabundance of flowers. She was allergic to most kinds, anyway.

But Nancy had her changing her mind. About everything, really. In the long periods they had during days where nothing happened - out in nowhere, Indiana, where the town had crumbled in on itself from the cracks - they had hours-long conversations about nothing. About everything. About things Robin had never even thought about before. She could listen to Nancy describe how paint dried. She would enjoy it if she did.

And Nancy deserved something better than a nameless death in the middle of the suburban desert. She deserved something extraordinary - just like she was.

Resting for a spell in the back of Steve’s pick-up (and by Steve’s, she meant Eddie had been the one to hotwire it off the street and steal it for their apocalyptic army), Robin let Nancy rest her head in her lap. The backseat was packed with weaponry and food, bottled water and tissue boxes. She hardly had a place to spread her legs. Robin was cramped to all hell, but it was all made worth it when she felt Nancy’s limp brown hair between her fingers. Dead-ended perm from the lack of a hair salon, her once curly hair had returned to its natural state of straight. Robin still thought she looked beautiful - a combination of waves, chopped down her neck in an effort to keep it out of her eyes. Nancy had taken to wearing bandanas at every moment of the day, holding back her bangs as they toiled underneath the hot sun or harsh rain. The weather was never nice.

She ran her fingers along Nancy’s forehead and pulled away the bangs, giving her skin room to breathe. Nancy’s eyelashes fluttered in a loose sleep. She could only sleep when Robin was around - it was one of the reasons they’d become so codependent. So deeply interconnected, physically and emotionally. Robin wanted to cup her face in her hands and never let go. But her fingertips drifted away, off the cheekbone and onto the curve of Nancy’s perfect ear.

“You alright, Rob?” Steve asked from the front seat, peering at his best friend through the rearview mirror. He’d sprawled himself out across the passenger, waiting for Eddie to return with a few mismatched supplies from the general store they’d parked themselves outside of. If they heard the signal (a high-pitched whine) he’d go sprinting to the rescue. But Eddie had managed to convince them he could handle his own, at least when it came to retrieving crackers and laundry detergent for the town’s last working washer.

Along the street, tumbleweeds made of old lawn ferns crossed over the road. The sidewalks remained a solemn empty, as they had been for weeks. People had either managed to run past the city limits with their tails between their legs or disappeared. But Robin and her family - yes, her family, whether by blood or blood loss - had stayed. Fools, the lot of them. She loved them anyway.

“I wish things were different,” Robin said. It wasn’t enough. He nodded anyway in agreement, though it was so completely nondescript. How to go into the various things they were missing, being a part of this endless nightmare? But the worst, the most regrettable thing was that Robin couldn’t give Nancy anything. She could only tangle her fingers in her hair and try to help her fall back asleep after a nightmare. She could shoot down a demodog for her. No flowers or chocolates in sight. “I wish me and Nance could…it’s stupid. Nevermind.”

“Nothing you say is stupid,” Steve replied simply.

“I want to - marry her,” Robin whispered as if Nancy would wake up and hear her admitting to this. As if it were some terrible secret.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t talked about it. Late at night, tangled in the sheets they never used, leg to leg and armpit to armpit, butterfly kisses and all. Robin was never the first to bring it up. It was always Nancy. Tiny confessions whispered into Robin’s hairline. Or, very rarely, Nancy would talk about it when she thought Robin was asleep. She wanted flowers. She wanted the frilly dress. The white. The crowd of family and friends. The damn pastor. She wanted all of it, and she wanted it with Robin.

But maybe - maybe this apocalypse was a blessing in disguise. There were no more watching eyes. The government, at least in Indiana, had crumbled to the point of extinction. As the Upside-Down rampaged America, spreading out slowly across state and town borders, the army had focused all its efforts on destroying the extraterrestrial threat. Surely they wouldn’t care about two girls getting married. Two girls who were hopelessly, disastrously in love.

“Why don’t you?” Steve asked, shrugging his shoulders and following Robin’s exact line of reasoning. They made eye contact in the rearview mirror, realization coming upon them at the same time - it tended to, with their shared brain cells and whatnot.

“But I need a ring,” Robin said. “You don’t just rush into marriage, right? Don’t you do that little thing where the guy gets down on a knee and says a bunch of stupid shit?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s how it goes, yeah,” Steve hummed in agreement. He tapped out a little song on the steering wheel and glanced into the general store. He always got nervous whenever Eddie was out of his eyesight as if five seconds without Steve’s long limbs tangled around him protectively would end with another rouge bat attack. “But, you know. That was pre-apocalypse.”

“And now we’re mid-apocalypse,” Robin nodded. She looked back down at Nancy, who let out a little noise of contentment and shifted in her sleep. She hoped she was dreaming of better days. When the lawns were green and people left their houses. Robin’s fingers traced along her eyelashes, her chin. Down her neck. She was a sculpture. She deserved the world. “I’m still gonna get her a ring.”

“Of course,” Steve said. Eddie burst through the doors of the general store then, arms laden with goods and a goofy grin on his face. Robin could see Steve’s chest heave with a breath he’d been holding.

“And you’re going to help me,” Robin continued. Eddie banged on the trunk door in a signal for Steve to pop it open, waving around the bags. Steve pursed his lips and Robin leaned into the space between the seats, careful to balance Nancy’s sweet head on her knees and between her hands.

“I’ve actually got a lot to do,” Steve trailed off. “My nailbat’s a little rusty.”

“You’re going to help me,” Robin repeated. He glanced back at her and slowly grinned. Eddie banged again.

* * *

Ted’s Jewels, the only jewelry store on Hawkins Main, was absolutely trashed. As she and Steve stepped through, heavy boots crunching down on the glass spread from the front window, Robin realized that she should’ve come to that conclusion sooner. Days sooner, maybe. Clearly, the richest store on the block would’ve been broken into ten times over. No matter how little Hawkins’ population was at that point, the leftovers would be searching for monetary anything - including the lackluster diamonds now no longer behind the glass. Robin peered over the counter where the register was tipped over onto. The glass had been halfway broken into. Necklace and bracelet holders had been crashed onto their sides. There was nothing left.

“This is harder than I thought it was going to be,” Robin said in a sigh, shaking her head as she surveyed the damage. Steve kicked experimentally at a fallen earring tree.

“You don’t see anything?” He asked in disbelief, glancing over his shoulder to check out the rest of the store. He grimaced in sympathy as she tossed up her hands. Robin headed for the back of the tiny store. She remembered a time when it had been cluttered with people and things, busy upper-class folks buying the jewels only they could afford. The Hawk theater hadn’t been too far down the street from Ted’s - she’d peered through the windows a few times. She liked to people-watch.

And now it was completely empty. Worse than empty, it was destroyed beyond repair. Just like so much of Hawkins. She felt like the ceiling could cave in at any moment.

“Do you know what happened to Ted?” She asked, drifting her hand along the torn wallpaper. She was thankful for the severe lack of windows; the shattered glass carpeting was only really by the entrance. Once she reached the back, where some reserves had been stored and less extravagant jewelry had been displayed, she found no more dangerous pieces. Just empty shelves. All empty and dull. Devastating.

“I hope he got out,” Steve said. He didn’t sound too convinced. She looked back to see him leaning up against the counter, eyes far away. Perhaps remembering something before the world went to shit, the same way she was. Robin didn’t try to pry or breach through it. When they got like that, both knew the best thing to do was to let it run its course. Memories would come and go. It was nice to be able to escape back for a bit, even for a moment.

Robin tried the door handle which led to the Employee’s backroom and, presumably, the stairs up to Ted’s apartment above the store. It gave easily. Whether it had been left unlocked or had been picked, she had no idea. But she let the door swing open. The dark room beckoned her closer.

Robin yanked on the flimsy cord for the overhead light, taking in the rinky-dink microwave and minifridge in the corner. In front of her was a set of chairs and a round table, no doubt the hiding place of the two teenagers who worked here and had to suffer the daily dramas of the richer side of Hawkins. She wondered if Steve had ever been in the store with his parents. Maybe that was what he’d been remembering. It hurt to swallow when she thought about the Harringtons. Hurt even more to consider her own lost parents, whom she’d watched drive off in the family minivan she’d planned on learning how to drive in. If things had gone the way she was wishing they’d go. If the world hadn’t halted her senior year.

“Rob!” Steve called. She stepped back out of the memory and back into the store to see him holding up his hand. There was something clutched protectively in between his fingers, but she couldn’t quite see it.

She walked to stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder. There he lowered his hand just enough so that she could get a good look at what he was holding - two plain silver bands. No diamonds or jewels or nothing. But rings nonetheless. The only rings, Robin suspected, left in Indiana - unless they wanted to pick up a gravedigging habit. She’d have to check her schedule.

As she looked closer at the rings, she realized that the one on the left had some flower engraved on it. It looked as if it’d been done by hand.

“Can I-?” Robin held out her hands expectantly. Steve dropped the rings as if they were priceless into her palm, letting her marvel as he radiated pride. “Good job sniffing these out.”

“Not to brag, but I think they’re perfect,” He said. She squinted. The flowers twisted around the band as if holding all the metal in place. Holding the ring to her finger. Robin fully shut her eyes and imagined what it would look like on Nancy’s hand. Particularly what it would look like on the trigger of a shotgun. She opened her eyes again and grinned at Steve appreciatively, humming.

“Ehh,” She dragged out. He bumped her shoulder, rolling his eyes as she burst into laughter and clinked the rings together. “Yeah. I think so too.” Robin slipped them into her pocket. Now came the hardest part:

‘Proposing’ to Nance. What that meant, Robin had no clue. She had no speech or plan. She had no time, really. Days were spent on the run or on the hunt - switching from predator to prey within seconds of an attack. The only peace she and Nancy had were when the sun went down and they were able to pass out on the mattress they were currently sleeping in on the floor of El’s old room - she slept with the rest of the kids in the next room over. Robin and Nancy had taught each other morse code, just to be able to communicate secretly when Eddie and Steve were in the bed above them. No words were necessary, just taps on each other’s arms.

That night Robin slipped the rings from her jacket pocket into her sweatpants. She handled them like baby birds, cradling them in her palms and patting them once they’d fallen into her pocket. The group gathered in the kitchen for dinner made up of miscellaneous soup and bread baked fresh by Max earlier that day - she enjoyed beating out her frustrations into the dough. It was delicious.

They all crammed around the small living space, eating off paper plates and spreading over each other. Max, Lucas, and El were a tight ball on the floor. Mike and Will were practically sharing a spoon. Robin stole the good couch spot from Steve and had Nancy sit on her lap. Nancy gave her a bite of her Italian Meatball - Robin gave her some Chicken Noodle.

After the kids had been put to bed and Joyce and Hopper had waved goodnight, the four older kids retired to their bedroom. Argyle and Jonathan would come in much later, as they tended to, after ‘going for a walk in the forest. The others trusted they could take care of themselves. They didn’t go outside of the light of the cabin, anyway, just staying to the treeline and sharing a blunt to calm the day’s nerves. Robin didn’t need drugs. She had Nancy.

They got into bed the same way they always did, arm to arm and face to face. Nancy sprawled herself out over Robin despite the growing heat, arms flopped up over her head and face grinning brightly. Even in the dim light of the room, Robin could see the full heat of her smile as Nancy’s hair tangled with hers. Robin reached out to yank her close, arms wrapped around Nancy’s exposed waist. Her fingers trailed up her spine. Nancy kissed the spot where Robin’s jaw intersected with her neck and pressed her smile to the skin, completely content. Robin would let the world end if she could experience this moment forever. She would never get out of bed if it meant she and Nance could lay like this and do nothing else.

Robin began to tap with her pointer. Long, short, long…

Nance.

After a moment of shifting, Nancy’s hand came up to rest on Robin’s cheek. Steve flicked off the bedroom light and suddenly they were shrouded in darkness. All black except for the dim amount of moonlight through the singular window, which happened to land on the two girls just enough for Robin to see Nancy’s crinkled eyes.

Rob.

I have to ask.

Ask me.

Robin moved her shoulders so that she was fully facing Nancy, protective hand still splayed across her back. Nancy’s eyebrows went up in confusion but she went ragdoll in Robin’s grip accordingly, allowing her girlfriend to shift her around. When Robin’s pointer finger came back down on her spine, it was sweaty and shaking.

I don’t know how much time we have.

Nancy’s eyes furrowed in a pang of deep sadness. It was complete agreement.

But I want to make the most of it. Want to give you. It's enough for me. If it's enough for you.

She cut herself off as she scrambled for her sweatpants pocket. Robin’s hand came out slippery but the rings rested on her palm. She grabbed at Nancy’s hand and rested it atop her own so that she could feel the full weight of the rings and could recognize the meaning without having to see. Nancy’s eyes went wide. With the hand still resting on Robin’s face, she tapped:

Are you real?

Robin let out a loud, surprised laugh. She quickly slammed her mouth shut, glancing back at the now-silent bed of their companions. No stirring from the peanut gallery. She was glad for it.

Yes.

Nancy lifted her hand from Robin’s palm. For a moment, Robin’s heart dropped to the soles of her feet. But then Nancy was knocking the side of her hand into the side of Robin’s - she’d flipped her hand over. Nancy raised her eyebrows in challenge.

Put on.

Robin grinned so hard it felt like her face was about to split apart. She felt for the ring with the flower indent. Tracing it absently with her finger, she slipped it onto Nancy’s waiting ring finger. Nancy flexed her hand, feeling out the ring. Robin put the other on herself, reaching around with the hand against Nancy’s back. In the shuffle, she pulled Nancy flush to her chest. Nancy laughed into Robin’s collarbone, barely hiding the flushed sound. Robin’s hand, now bejeweled, wound its way into her hair and pulled her close. She pressed her nose to her hair and took a deep breath in. As she let it out, both girls sagged to the mattress. It felt like a release. A hello. A promise. Nancy tilted her head up, chin to Robin’s chest, and brought their lips together. Due to the position, it was less of a kiss and more of a meeting of the mouths - a simple press. As Robin pulled away, unable to keep her head in such a cramped position, she could feel Nancy smile.

“I love you,” Nancy whispered. It was the best thing Robin had ever heard.

“I love you too,” Robin replied. Nancy rested her head on Robin’s chest, clearly having decided to go to sleep. But Robin was going to stay up a little longer. It meant she got to look at Nancy for a few more minutes, see the way her chest rose and fell with sleep. The all-consuming mass of her hair. Robin liked to recognize the feeling of having her pressed to her. But most of all - she loved the way the moon reflected off their matching rings.

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0perfectimperfections0 · 2 years

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Moxy and the other realize Lou was right about the big world.

Mandy poked at her food, head resting on a fist. Moxy pursed her lips, forcing a small smile, "Well...it could always be worse!"

"I almost died," UglyDog stressed. "That mutt 'bout ripped me to shreds."

"The dancing didn't work?"

"Apparently, dogs in the Big World don't like it when dolls move." UglyDog pushed his half-eaten plate forward, resting his head dejectedly on the table. "Makes 'em go even crazier. And not in a good way."

"At least you got away," Lucky Bat's voice quivered. "My kid dropped me in a mud puddle, and I had--" the bat shivered, lowering his voice, "--I had to go in the wash."

"Well, it ain't all bad," Ox encouraged. The others stayed silent, exchanging looks. The rabbit nudged Moxy.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, c'mon, guys! I mean...at least we still have a kid!" They still looked sullen. "It could always be worse," Moxy tried again.

"Yeah," Babo quirked his mouth worriedly, "we could have never come back from the Big World. Like Tanya."

"And Gabriel," UglyDog added.

"Don't forget Cocoa," Mandy put in.

The group went quiet. More dolls weren't coming back from the Big World. It wouldn't have raised any concerns months ago when the portal's access was limited. But now that dolls could come and go...

Maybe they just preferred the Big World? Or perhaps their kid was so hyperactive they barely had a chance to come back.

Ox drummed his fingers on the table, "I...I think we should talk to Lou." He was immediately met with a chorus of objections. "Woah, now, ya'll were just complainin' about how tough the Big World is!"

"Yeah?" UglyDog sniffed, "And what's blondie supposed to do about it?"

"He trained dolls for this exact thing."

"He lied," Moxy retorted. "It's not about being perfect. It's about having love and compassion."

Mandy nodded, "She's right. If we go to Lou, he'll only rub it in our faces that we're not good enough for the Big World."

"We should at least try," Ox pleaded. "He had to have cared even a little bit to train dolls for as long as he did." The group didn't look so sure. Ox sighed, hopping out of the booth, "Well, I'm gonna go talk to 'im. Ya'll keep tryin' to figure things out yourself."

"Wait," Moxy called as he walked off. He turned to see her sliding out from the booth, "I'll come too."

Mandy exchanged a look with Babo, "Fine," she sighed and followed. UglyDog begrudgingly relented, as did Lucky Bat and Babo. Ox smiled, feeling as if things were already looking up again.

___

Lou muttered under his breath, vainly tugging down his shrunken suit. The blazer went up too high for his liking. He felt embarrassingly exposed. That was just the tip of the iceberg. Hands fiddled with the mess of hair in the reflection of his hand mirror. Bangs fell over his eyes no matter how often he brushed them behind his ears.

Footsteps echoed behind him. He didn't have the confidence to turn and face whoever it was. Instead, he tilted the mirror to see it was those blasted ragdolls. "Go away," he focused the reflection back on himself. Now, he desperately wished the blazer hadn't shrunken so high.

"We just wanna talk," Ox held his hands up defensively.

"Not interested." Lou scowled at the dirt marks all over his face, trying to wipe one off across his cheek in vain.

UglyDog shrugged and turned around, "Well, we tried." Mandy grabbed him by the collar to pull him back.

"Lou, this is serious." Ox pulled on the blonde's arm to get him to turn around.

Lou glared down at Ox, fists at his sides, "I. Don't. Care. Anything you have to say to me isn't worth my time."

"Do you have anything better to do?" UglyDog remarked. It was followed by a soft kick from Mandy to get him to be quiet.

"Anything's better than talking to you." Lou snarled.

"Like fixing your stupid hair?"

"Don't you have a squirrel to go bark at or something?"

"Don't you have a mess to clean up?"

"How about I clean you up?"

"Ugly!"

"Mutt!"

"Enough!" Ox glared between the two, barely keeping them from getting any closer to each other. "I said talk, not fight. UglyDog, if you can't handle a civil conversation, go somewhere else. Lou, keep it to yourself."

Lou glared, straightening himself. UglyDog bared a fang at the blonde but took a few steps back too. Blue eyes turned back to Ox, "What do you want?"

"I'll get straight to the point: we're havin' problems in the Big World--"

"Sounds awful," Lou put his hands over his chest, giving a concerned look. Just as fast, he deadpanned, "Don't care." He began walking away.

"Louis!" The blonde sent a short wave behind him. "Get back here right now!"

The blonde turned to walk backward, cupping a hand to his ear, "I'm sorry, what? I can't hear you!"

"I sa--"

"What?"

"Lou--"

"Speak louder!" Lou kept walking away. Ox groaned and snatched a rock from off the ground, hurling it toward Lou. It just barely missed him, "What the heck?"

Ox picked up another rock, "Get back here and talk or I won't miss this time!"

"Civilized?" UglyDog sneered.

Lou rolled his eyes, kicking the rock on his way back. "Violent, aren't we?"

"Hypocrite," Ox glared.

"And rude. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the rabbit hole this morning."

"Do you want off your punishment or not?"

This got Lou's attention. He raised an eyebrow, "Keep talking."

Ox took in a deep breath, "Like I said, we're havin' problems in the Big World. Some dolls ain't comin' back, and...a few of us ain't gettin' anywhere with our kids."

"And you're coming to me because," Lou drew out the word.

Ox averted his gaze, mumbling under his breath.

"What was that?"

"We...need your help."

Lou blinked a few times. Suddenly, he doubled over laughing. Ox stared ahead, deadpan. "You--" Lou snorted, "You need my help? Lemme guess: little bunny came face-to-face with reality, huh?"

"At least I made it to the Big World!"

Just like that, Lou visibly shut down. He scowled at Ox and walked away again. The bunny pulled his ears in frustration before hurrying toward the blonde. "Lou, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." He stopped in front of Lou's path, forcing the other to stop before barreling into him. "Please, you gotta help us--help the other dolls. You're the only one who knows anything about bein' safe out there."

"I don't know anything, Ox," Lou's eyes burned. "You said so yourself: you actually made it. How am I supposed to know anything about a place I've never been to? And that's not even half the issue here. You want me to go back to teaching you sock puppets the same thing you punished me for!"

"It's complicated..."

"Well, make up your mind!" Lou flared his arms out. "Am I right or wrong? Have I been wasting my entire existence teaching dolls false information, or has my time actually been worth something?"

"There's a middle ground, Lou. You don't have t' be perfect, but you talked sense on gettin' around in the Big World. It ain't about looks. It's about survival."

"Maybe you should teach them then. You seem to know everything about it now." Lou stalked off again.

Ox didn't bother watching him walk off this time. Mandy gave a shrug. They had tried their best. Gritting his teeth, "I still kept my promise, y'know." He spoke loud enough for Lou to hear. "I tried to visit ya. Only problem was the pipe was too high for me to get into."

Lou had stopped walking. Both of them with their backs to each other. He barely turned his head to the side, "That was stupid. The robots would've destroyed you if you had come back."

"Ya do stupid things for the people ya love."

Lou rolled his eyes up to the sky, sighing. Letting his head fall, he spun on his heel back toward Ox. The bunny turned to face him. "Yeah...I guess you do. Alright, what's this stupid plan of yours?"

#uglydolls #lou #moxy #ox #mandy #uglydog #luckybat #babo #fanfiction #writing #short story #ask #answer #prompt

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cocobeanncteez · 3 years

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ATEEZ Jongho Imagine: When he's still in contact with his ex-mistress. (Mafia au)

Anonymous said: hii idk if u take reqs but i really enjoy ur storyies n wanted to req smth angsty......mafia jongho who still is in touch w his exmistress n his wife does not like it.... ending can be anyth thx

A/N: Thank you for requesting! My requests are actually closed right now, but I loved this idea so I decided to write it! I hope you like it!

Genre: Angst, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Jongho / Husband!Jongho x reader (fem)

Warnings: profanities, mentions of abuse, alcohol, cheating, and guns.

Tears streamed down your face while your back was pressed against the wall, watching your husband, Jongho, get changed to go who knows where.

The two of you had gotten into the worst argument you've ever had. Jongho's toxic ex-mistress was trying to fuck up your relationship yet again, but your husband just couldn't see that. She was his mistress for five years and older than him by seven years; she was the reason why Jongho got into the mafia world. He did love her a lot, but she used him only for her pleasure and abused him on countless occasions. One day, she decided to leave him and he was completely shattered. You entered his life a few months later, and it took you nearly a year to pick up every piece and put him back together. When she suddenly came back into his life, Jongho didn't tell you about it. They chose to speak once in a while... until she found out about you and decided to cause a lot of drama. You were beyond uncomfortable with that fact that your husband kept in touch with her; even after you expressed how you felt about it, your words went into his ears and left just as fast. You wondered how much longer you could tolerate this, cause honestly, you were so close to your limit.

The sound of a gun cocking brought you out of your thoughts. You glanced at Jongho who was thoroughly checking his handgun before he placed it inside his leather jacket.

"Where are you going?" you asked in concern, hoping it wasn't a mission, although he could handle it if it was one. The worst part about being in the mafia was never knowing whether your loved ones would come back alive once they walk out the door.

"That's none of your business," he replied, making your heart ache.

"I'm your wife, Jongho, it is my business," you said in a soft tone. "Are you going on a mission or—" He left before you could finish talking, slamming the door harshly behind him.

You slid down against the wall, putting your head in your hands while you started crying again. Why couldn't he see how much he was hurting you?

"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" you felt someone shaking your body. You accidentally fell asleep on the floor while crying last night.

"How the fuck is she sleeping in that position? Her neck is gonna hurt badly."

You slowly opened your eyes, immediately meeting San's dark brown ones. Mingi was next to him, looking at you like as if you were an alien.

"No offense, but you look like shit," Mingi commented, making you snort.

You got up from the floor, groaning in pain due to the pain you felt all over your body, especially in your neck.

"Told you she's gonna be in pain," San murmured to Mingi.

The two of them left you to shower while they made some breakfast. You checked your reflection in the mirror, not surprised to see the puffy bags under your swollen eyes.

You were sure Jongho didn't come back last night, and you really wanted to know where he was.

After taking a shower and having breakfast with San and Mingi, you decided to ask them about Jongho's whereabouts.

"Guys, do you know where Jongho is?"

"Nope," Mingi said. On the other hand, San noticeably tensed up.

"You were with him, weren't you?" you questioned San.

"Not really, but we were at the same club," he said, avoiding eye contact. San has been your bestfriend ever since you were kids, so you could easily tell that there was something else he wasn't telling you about.

"Sannie, I know you're hiding something from me," you crossed your arms over your chest. "You're my bestfriend, not Jongho's, so you better tell me now."

He took a deep breath. "You're not going to be happy about it."

Your eyes widened, immediately realizing what he meant. "He was with that stupid bitch?!"

You lit a scented candle and stripped your clothes off before sitting in the whirlpool tub in your bathroom. You felt like shit the entire day and you really just needed to relax.

After a few minutes, you heard your bathroom door open and Jongho walked in, eyes immediately settling on you. You were surprised he came home so fast after being with his ex-mistress.

"I'm sorry," your husband said, sitting at the edge of the tub. You ignored him, closing your eyes, trying to focus on the warm water instead. "So you're just going to ignore me now?" You didn't say anything while you got out of the tub, wrapping your wet body with a towel.

"Y/N, talk to me," Jongho mumbled, following you to the closet. You wore your panties and a white tank top before moisturizing your legs. "Fuck, Y/N. Talk to me!" Jongho's voice raised a little. "Say something for fucks sake!"

You turned to look at him. "Why don't you go talk to your ex-mistress instead?"

"She means nothing to me!"

You took a deep breath. "Did you sleep with her?" you questioned your husband, staring right into his eyes.

Jongho's jaw dropped a little in shock. "I would never ever be unfaithful to you. How could you even think that I—"

"You were drunk and you spent the night at your ex-mistress' place, Jongho!" you yelled, cutting him off. "You spent the night at that fucking bitch's place after all the shit she did to you! What do you expect me to think?!"

"I wouldn't have been there if I wasn't drunk," he stated, taking your hands in his. "But believe me, nothing happened between us last night. I passed out on her couch."

You chucked bitterly. "You expect me to believe that? You really think I'd believe that after what happened a few months ago?" you asked, referring to the time when he kissed her while being extremely drunk.

"I told you I would never look at another woman as long as I wear this," he held his hand up, pointing to his wedding ring.

"Wow, that makes this situation a whole lot better!" you said sarcastically. Jongho's lips pulled into a thin line. He really didn't know what to do; all he knew was he fucked up big time.

Jongho sighed deeply. "Okay, I know I fucked up and I'm sorry," he said after a few seconds of silence.

You scoffed, tears brimming your eyes. "I've been telling you for months now that I-I," you choked out a sob while the tears began to roll down your face. "That I'm uncomfortable with you having any sort of contact with her, but you don't give a fuck. I wouldn't have any issues with you talking to her if she wasn't constantly trying to screw things up between us. Why can't you see that she's messing things up between us? Why do you always fucking defend her when everyone else can see what she's doing?"

Jongho kept quiet, listening to every word you said, thinking about all the fights you two had because of her. "I can't tolerate this anymore. I'm literally done, Jongho," you continued. "I really can't handle it anymore. I tried my best to tolerate everything, but I'm fucking exhausted now. What's the point of being married to someone who clearly prefers the company of his ex-mistress?" Jongho's eyes widened at your words, wondering if what he was thinking was right or wrong.

His thoughts were confirmed once you were about to take your wedding ring off; he immediately put his hand over yours, stopping you from doing so.

"Don't," he whispered, pain and fear clear in his beautiful eyes. "Please don't. I love you, Y/N." He leaned his forehead against yours. "I swear she means nothing to me. I'll stop talking to her. I'm so sorry for hurting you. Please don't leave me." You felt a wet drop fall onto your cheek, making you look up at your husband. This was the first time you saw Jongho crying and the sight of it broke your heart. You cupped his cheeks, wiping his tears away.

"Don't leave," he murmured, more tears rolling down his perfect face.

"I won't," you sighed. You could never leave him; you loved him way too much. "But you have to promise me that you'll cut her out of your life completely, Jongho. It's damaging our relationship."

"I promise I will," he vowed, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, scared that you might disappear. You slightly smiled, giving him a soft kiss that instantly made him feel relaxed. You could only hope he would listen to you this time.

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monstas1ut2 · 3 years

Text

1/3 (Eren Yeager)

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Bitches is my sons, that's why I be like, "Chile"

Chile, chile, chile, chile, ch-i-i-i-chile

At the lowest volume, Nicki was spitting bars. The LED lights on the brightest red there's to come as the window was covered with black out curtains. It happened to be bright outside but who opens their curtains at 8 am in the morning..? People who are productive and that's not you.

"Don't spend hours in there, brat."

A pout came onto your face, almost sucking your teeth... it wasn't going to be long until you were finished. Nonetheless though, your father always thinks you take hours to get ready to go somewhere.

"Im not ,daddy... Ion even wear makeup no more.. so it won't take long.."

Leaning towards the mirror, and pressing the lipgloss tip against your soft lips, your thoughts came around to your father.

Levi Ackerman, he's a short male who is quite intimidating, he IS intimidating. Despite his height, he's always winning a battle, whether it's verbal or physical. Which is why you always fail to win an argument against him. This was noticeable when you moved to his house ten months ago.

Before living with Levi, you were living with Hange.

Hange co-parents with Levi, the two were never together but they kept you happy and they are both Mom and Dad to you. The two are so different though. Hange would let you skip school, get ready late, almost everything in the book. She had to stop you from getting a sugar daddy though-

Levi is strict, he doesn't want anyone or thing touching his pretty Princess. Yes you're not biologically his but he still is your father, the only one you'd ever had. He taught you things, showed you the great life. He tried to get you to speak a bit more proper but he just stopped, oddly enough, he wanted you to embrace everything you had to offer.

It was a pain learning about your background, Hange was bad at doing anything for you as well. In result of this, your hair has dreads. Watching YouTube videos was Levi's new thing when you were younger. He managed to skillfully put dreads in your hair and... now they look quite amazing. Very long and pretty on you.

That's something you embrace, those pretty dreads. Knowing that your father put them in first , is one reason as to never take them out.

"I'm done, and, Mom said stop ignorin her... she wanna have a picture of me.. since it's my last year I guess.. ion know.. but she blowin up my phone.."

A bit of a smile casting on your brown skinned face. Fiddling with the phone in your hand. Today you were wearing a Jean like skirt and a black top to go with. Your med-long nails being a mix of white and gold, it complimented the melanin of your skin.

Levi glared at his phone that was vibrating on the nearest table and he'd sighed inwardly. Hange was so excited for your last year, while Levi was not. He also hates the fact that you are now going to the same school that he works at... the only bad thing being... the men there are complete perverts and prudes.

"Tell that bratty friend of yours to do it-"

"Connie isn't a brat, he just a lil mental..."

A lot of bald guys seemed to be mental, or is that just... stereotypical to say? Eh, either way, your Connie was mental. The guy was hilarious, he always knows how to put a smile on your face. Even though you two used to be fairly seperated. You now go to his school so at least you'll have one friend to lean on.

"dad, can you at least be happy for me...? It's my last year of school, not my last year of me bein in ya house.. cuz ion know how to cook... or do adult stuff.." a sheepish smile came upon your face, just staring at your father who happened to be suppressing a smile. He eventually did not though, but... you are the only person who can make him smile..

"I know, you burned down a kitchen before.." An evil smirk cascaded on his pale face. He knew that would hit you where it hurts, considering you were now silent but squinting your eyes playfully. It definitely wasn't Levi's kitchen, it was Hange's kitchen.. she had to get it remodeled.

Honestly, Levi liked that you couldn't cook, that way, douche bag men will stay away from you and it'll prevent them from making you barefoot and pregnant in a kitchen... he overthinks okay?

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Gripping your wrist ever so tightly, the two of you were walking towards the huge school. It was more of a modern taste, probably because the school was built only 6 years ago. The scale of the school had caused your body to overheat from anxiety. So actually, Levi was pulling you towards the school, no effort needed.

Once that door was open, it was all over. The main entrance had a pretty scenery. It was pictures and everything, though something that was odd was that black people were limited, looked like-

Okay okay, you're overthinking, but this school really doesn't have black people. If they do, they are in sports... which is why there was a man constantly talking on and on about female's basketball team...

You have to admit, you are a stallion.

"She doesn't want to be on the team... Shadis... stop yelling in her face.."

A bit of a concerned smile came upon your face as you glanced towards your father. Who only gave a soft look towards you. Levi may be insensitive at times but when it comes to you being nervous.. he's there.

"Where the hell is the principle..." Levi grumbled under his breath, he was quite late for his class.. but he had to make sure you were going to be fine.. like the worried father he is.

And Like on cue, a fine.. smexy blonde man came from the back door of the front office.. oooh.

His eyebrows were thick and he had this smile on his face. Like he knew who you were, though at the same time he probably already did. This man was in pictures at home, Levi knew him personally.

Apparently this man changed your diaper when you were little too.. so.. low chance of him seeing you any different..

Principal Smith... oohhh

"Levi, I told you yesterday, she'll be fine in my hands.. I can make sure she gets to every class. I'll also make sure nobody messes with her.." Erwin hummed out, knowing these words that came from Levi last week. His voice was deep and sincere, his pretty blue eyes glancing you over.. gawd oh mighty.

"And?" Levi's eyes squinted hard, his face quite serious about the last statement that Erwin seemed to pass by... or forgotten.. Man, someone would think Levi is the principal... and not Erwin.

"I'll make sure Yeager stays away from her.."

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

The bell had rung oh so suddenly, the anxiety in you causing you to need to go to the bathroom but... your ancestors had to come down.

They whispered into your ear and explained that you are the baddest bitch in the world. Nobody can take that away from you, nor can the stupid anxiety.

"This is my daughter, (Y/n)... "

The baddest bitch with anxiety...

Every single eye was on you, in front of the class... it was obvious that most were just curious about you, mixed with shocked. When they heard the other day about getting a new student, they figured that it'll be someone... like them. At the same time though.. they could get used to the.. balance of the room.

The window across the room was beaming on your brown skin and it happened to make you look like a goddess. Your lipgloss sparkling as you glanced around, a soft smile on your face. Honestly, that only happened because of the fact that.. your bald friend was waving to you..

Connie...

The other day, a deal was made... Between you and your father. Who is also now your teacher for first period.

The deal was, you clean your room spotless and you get to sit next to Connie in class. Guess who succeeded?...

Your arms wrapped around male as he was blushing a tad. Being almost manhandled by you was everyone's dream at the moment. Especially a male who was behind you and Connie's table. He had this cool haircut, his face was long too but it fit his features.

"Why is she hugging the egg..."

"Jean you're just jealous.." the person who said this happened to be playing with their pencil. She had black hair and.. freckles.. it was cute. She looked mean though.

"Okay and..?"

Connie then began to of course, show off his best friend.. who happened to be you. Apparently what happened was that he told everyone about you one day. Nobody believed him, and Jean being the asshole he is.., he wanted answers so he -reluctantly- asked Levi if he had a daughter...

They weren't expecting someone like you...

Nor was.. this brown haired male who had his eye on you ever since you came in. His intimidating... blue, greenish looking eyes.. it's not something you failed to realize... but at the same time, you could feel your father's eyes as well.

"That's Eren over there, by Armin and Mikasa... he's a little coo-coo... so just talk to Armin and Mikasa.. then that's Bert , Annie, and Reiner, and Ymir, Jean, Sasha is the one eating and Historia.."

Honestly, you were never one to listen to someone when they say don't do something... Connie said don't talk to Eren... but some how... with the fluttering of your eyelashes.. you gave the long haired boy a wink. The wink sending him a burst of confidence that he already had..

it just got worse..

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ Masterlist 2

#black reader #poc reader #eren x black reader #three part #aot imagines #aot x black reader

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

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Taken & Found - 1

Request 1: Hey there! I'd really like to see a comforting Gibbs after the reader was kidnapped?

Request 2: Could ya do something with the reader being kidnapped and tortured in captivity for a long time and after she was rescued and came back Gibbs tries to get her to talk about what happened to her so he can figure out how to help/comfort her?

Request 3: May I request something with Gibbs and scared reader? Maybe they’re like trapped somewhere or she’s going under for a surgery? You can decide reader’s fate!

This is a two-part fic. This part is basically full angst, focused on Gibbs and the comforting, healing focus on Reader will come in the second part. I wanted to separate both.

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

TW: angst, kidnapping, mention of suicide, depression, slight alcoholism

Words count: 3k

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99

She was supposed to be thirty-five years old today.

And it was one of those very rare days Gibbs didn’t want to get out of bed.

He spent the night working on his boat in the basement, thinking about what his life would be if anything had happened. But he would never know, would he? No matter how bad he wished Shannon and Kelly weren’t dead, how bad he wished you were here with him… all of this happened. And he found himself alone in his basement.

Well, not entirely alone. He had a bottle of bourbon to keep him company, and Fraser, an old black labrador. Your old black lab. Your furry baby, as you used to say.

You rescued it when it was just a puppy, a couple of years before you joined NCIS. So, Gibbs has always known you with this loving thing. At some point, you would even take him to the office and Fraser’s favorite spot was under Gibbs’s desk.

Gibbs never wanted to get attached to the dog. Fraser wasn’t his, it was yours and he respected that. But somehow, you both made your way to his heart.

But only Fraser was still here.

Taking a sip of bourbon directly out of the bottle, his eyes landed on your pet, curled up in the armchair Gibbs put here years ago after you made a remark. “You know, you should put something down here. An armchair or something for people who visit.” You said, while caressing the wood with your fingertips. God did he wish he was the boat at this very moment.

“People who visit never stick around.” He answered, sternly.

“I stick around,” you grinned.

Indeed, you did stick around. A lot. Probably too much.

Would’ve saved him the heartbreak if you didn’t.

A week later, an armchair was down his basement.

With the bottle still in his hand, Gibbs sat next to Fraser and started to toy the blankie. Well, technically, it was not a blankie. It was a tee-shirt. One of yours. The one you left at his house, two years ago.

The top, representing one of your favorite bands, was destroyed now. Fraser chewed it, curled against it nonstop for two years, it was now just some cotton with dog’s hair on it. It didn’t have your smell anymore, it had Fraser’s, but Gibbs never had the strength to take it away from the dog to wash it.

He never had the strength to do much after you disappeared.

When it was clear to the team that you had been taken, kidnapped, abducted or whatever, Gibbs searched for you for weeks, probably mouths. He still does, to be honest, just not 24/7 anymore.

The first weeks, he asked - or actually, ordered - Abby to take care of Fraser. Gibbs was spending all of his time away, looking for you, he couldn’t take care of someone - well, a living thing. The lab tech happily obliged, but Fraser’s health quickly deteriorated. The dog wasn’t eating, or drinking. All he did was lay on the floor, waiting for his mum to come back.

“What, Abby? I don’t—“ not a welcoming way to answer the phone but she didn’t hold it against him.

“I know you’re busy, Gibbs, but I’m taking Fraser to the vet. He’s not okay at all.”

Abby heard her boss taking a deep breath. “Which vet? I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

The dog was clearly letting himself die. Without you, he didn’t see the point of living and Gibbs understood that. If he told anyone what he did after he got Fraser from the vet, they would think he was crazy. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t care about anything, anymore.

Fraser was depressed and there was nothing the vet could do about it. So, they let Gibbs take him home.

And he took him home. His real home; your apartment. Fraser immediately lay on your bed and cried. “You’re reading my mind, Fra.” Gibbs muttered to himself, while preparing a bowl for the pet.

Gibbs had been in your room a few times, but he never paid attention to your stuff. All his attention was on you and your body when it happened. But as he was sitting on the floor, his back against your bed, he allowed himself to take a look around. It was very much you. Minimalist with your touch. He saw your guitar, your messy wardrobe, candles and some Polaroid pictures of people you love. Gibbs never paid attention to those pictures until this moment and one grabbed his attention.

A picture of him. You could see him from afar, aiming to throw a ball. He remembered that night but he never knew you took a picture.

Ziva had invited him to throw a few balls on a baseball field. It was a nice summer night and they had just saved many people from getting blown up. It was also the first night you kissed him. In his basement, you teased him like you always did and ended up with your lips on his. He wasn’t ready for it at that moment, and when he realised what had happened, you were already gone.

Gibbs held the picture in his hand and before sitting back exactly where he was, he went to the kitchen, grabbed what he had prepared and came back.

Fraser was still laying on your bed, his face on your pillow. Gibbs carried him in his arms, the labrador didn’t even fight back or anything. He put him in front of the bowl and Gibbs sat across. “You wanna die, Fra, huh?” The dog looked at him with horrifying sadness in his eyes. “You and me both, buddy. So let’s do this.”

Gibbs put the picture next to the bowl and grabbed his gun and the bottle of whiskey. “I know you know that salmon. Eat it, choke, and when you take your last breath, I’ll pull the trigger.” He said, pressing the gun against his temple.

Fraser is deadly allergic to salmon. When he was a few months old, you fed him some and the reaction was almost instantaneous. Luckily, you took him to the vet right on time for them to save him. “Salmon is banned from the house.” you said on the ride home.

The dog didn’t move one bit. With his face still resting on the floor, he kept looking at the man. Gibbs swore he saw tears in the damn dog’s eyes. “So? Whatcha waiting for? Eat it. It’s good salmon, trust me.” He said, drinking the brown liquor.

If Fraser could talk, he would’ve told him; ‘I may let myself die, but you’re damn crazy.’ Which would’ve been fair.

Gibbs was going crazy. It was the last straw. The last punch in the guts he could take. He had reached his limit.

He was finally letting himself love again and get loved in return. And someone took that away from him. All over again.

He got it, the universe hates him for some reasons. Why would he keep pushing it then?

Gibbs stayed up all night, drinking and waiting for Fraser to eat the fish and die. So he could pull the trigger and end this once and for all.

But Fra never did. Instead, around 5am, the dog went to grab something from the bathroom and put it on Gibbs’ lap. It was one of his hoodies. A hoodie you stole from him. Gibbs buried his nose in it and he could smell you. For the first time in many years, he let himself cry. He cried like a fucking baby, under the watch of your fucking dog.

At some point, he felt that Fraser was trying to nudge his nose in the hoodie too. “We’ll find her, Fra. We have to.”

If Gibbs had killed himself, along with Fraser, it would’ve meant you were gone forever. Because eventually, people would’ve stopped looking for you. They would’ve stopped thinking about you and just pretended you’re dead.

But Gibbs knew you weren’t dead. He knew it deep inside him. Because if you were dead, Fraser would’ve eaten the salmon and he would’ve pulled the trigger.

Laying in his bed, Gibbs turned on his side and found himself face to face with Fraser. The dog was sleeping and snoring. That’s what he does most of his time. Fra was still depressed, but he didn’t let himself die anymore. He eats and drinks the bare minimum. He doesn’t play anymore though. He used to be a happy, playful and loving dog. Now he’s just laying around, waiting for you to come back.

Just like Gibbs.

They both lost weight. Gibbs didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. His hair was longer than it has never been, and his beard was prominent now. You would probably freak out if you saw him like this. You would order him to shave and get his marine haircut back. You would feed him - and Fraser - until they are full. He just wished you were here.

He reached for Fraser’s head and pet him for a moment. “The boat is done and I can’t even offer it to her.” He sadly whispered. It’s been his plan a long time before you were gone. Building a boat after and for you. Now it was your thirty-fifth birthday, the boat was fucking done but he coudn’t teach you how to operate it like he promised.

For the next two weeks, Gibbs would stay in the basement, and stare at the finished product. There was nothing left to do on it, so he just sat behind the wheel, files on his lap and bourdon in one hand. His use of alcohol has never been higher than it is now. You’d scold him if you knew.

Maybe he’s self-destructing, hoping you’d show up and make everything right again. It was stupid, since you didn’t leave on your own. You were taken. Someone took you, and god knows what they were doing to you. This awoke a rage he never knew he had. He’d kill that - or those - person with his bare hands if he ever has a chance.

A month after your birthday, Gibbs was basically falling asleep in his boat, relatively drunk. Fraser was on his lap - he doesn’t realise he’s not a puppy anymore - when the dog shot his head up. “Easy, that’s just Fornell.” Gibbs mumbled, recognizing his friend’s footsteps.

“My two favorite depressed boys.” Tobias greeted them. He gently patted Fraser’s head and looked at his friend. “I need you to sober up, Gibbs. We need to talk about something important.”

“Just say whatever you have to say. I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah, right.” Tobias grabbed the bottle from Gibbs’s hand and checked how empty it was. But Tobias knew only one thing would make him react, so he went straight to the point. “It’s about Y/N, Gibbs. Get your ass—“

Before the FBI agent could finish his sentence, Gibbs had practically thrown Fraser away. The poor dog looked at him with hurt in his eyes. It was only then that Gibbs saw the file his friend was holding against his chest. He didn’t think twice and tore it out of his grip. Tobias let him.

There wasn’t much in the file, just a picture.

A picture of you.

You looked different, thinner, your hair was shorter and in a completely different color. You looked like a homeless woman.

Gibbs’s jaw dropped. His head was spinning so fast, he needed to sit again. He touched the picture with his fingertips so softly, hoping it was like touching you. A lot of things were going through his mind at this moment, he actually drew a blank. “It was taken two days ago. In Wyoming.”

Gibbs didn’t need more.

Tobias had everything planned before he showed up at Gibbs’s place. One of the FBI private planes was waiting for them, in order to take them off to Wyoming. He had asked Emily if she could dogsit Fraser for a few days, and he even called Vance to let him know he was taking Gibbs with him.

In the plane, he told Gibbs how he came across this picture and all of the info he had, which wasn’t much to be honest. As far as they knew, you were in one city of Wyoming two days ago. Maybe you were gone by now.

But all Gibbs could focus on was that picture. He didn’t take his eyes off it since he opened the file. This was you. You were alive. Whatever happened, whatever the reasons you found yourself here, you were fucking alive.

Tobias looked at his friend. He’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he didn’t see the tear rolling down his cheek. “How you feeling?” He tentatively asked.

“I—I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

“She’s alive. We know it. We’ll find her.”

“I’ve always known she was alive.”

No doubt he did.

It was hard for Tobias to tame Gibbs after they landed. The agent was already barking orders at everybody and anybody, he was ready to organize a fucking manhunt to find you. But the first place they went was where the picture was taken. Gibbs spent hours in the area, while Tobias went to see the local cops. When he tried to check on Gibbs, the man never answered.

In the picture, you were looking at the surveillance camera. You knew you were being watched. You did it on purpose, Gibbs was sure of it. You must have left a clue somewhere around.

You looked scared, someone must have been following you. But he knew from what Tobias said; there wasn’t much more on the video. You were briefly seen and then disappeared, again. “Talk to me, Y/N.” Gibbs thought to himself while looking around.

It was only around noon that it hit him. He finally saw it.

Right there on the graffiti wall.

“Born to lose, live to win.”

Your handwriting. This sentence. Your tattoo.

You must have written this to let him know he should look at this wall. So he did. He studied those graffitis for a long moment, until he saw what he needed to see.

Numbers. GPS coordinates.

He called McGee, not paying attention to the missed calls he had. He gave him the coordinates and Tim gave him an address.

Was that it? The nightmare was finally over? He would go to this address, find you and take you home. Finally.

Fucking finally.

He felt dizzy while running to the address. It wasn’t that far away, and there was no way he’d wait for Fornell or a cab. So, he jogged to this fucking house. When he was standing in front of it, his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would stop.

But he couldn’t die now. He would die after he found you but not now.

He didn’t care about procedures or anything. He grabbed his gun, and let himself in the house by knocking out the door. A man was sitting there, on the couch.

The house was pure filth. The man seemed to be a bit younger than him, and he looked like a psychopath. Which he is, considering he took you.

The man was standing in his living room, his hands up as Gibbs pointed the gun at him. In a flash, Gibbs was standing right in front of the man, the gun pressed against his throat. The man looked scared, he didn’t even try to fight. “What the hell, man? Who are you? What do—“

“Shut your mouth. Where is she?” Gibbs asked, suppressing the urge to beat the man to death right now. That would come later. He needed to find you first.

“Who? There’s no—“

Gibbs’s knee hit him right in his crotch and that bastard fell on the floor. “You’re living the final hour of your life, you better tell me where the hell is Y/N, before I watch life leaving your fucking eyes.”

“I—I—“

Seeing his hesitation, Gibbs punched him. “Where?!” He yelled, but the man stayed silent. “Fine.”

Gibbs grabbed the guy by his collar to put him back up. He was physically impressive, but the adrenaline running through Gibbs’s veins gave him incredible strength. He threw him on the first chair he saw and immediately cuffed him to it. He punched him once more, harder this time.

His nose and lips were bloody, but of course it wasn’t enough. Gibbs fought a lot in his life. To defend himself or to arrest someone, but never, had he been filled with that much rage and anger. He didn’t think twice before his boot hit the man directly in his face, knocking him unconscious. He stared as the man fell on the floor along with the chair he was cuffed to.

He needed to find you. Right now.

No need to be a federal agent to know a psychopath would hold you captive somewhere private.

So he immediately looked for a basement, which he quickly found and he saw the door.

A reinforced door with quite a few locks. Keys. He needed keys that he found in the man’s pocket. Although he was still laying on the floor, fighting to regain consciousness, Gibbs kicked him again, in the stomach this time. He wasn’t holding back his strength one bit. He will kill him anyway.

As he was unlocking the door, his hands were shaking like they never did before. His heart was still pounding in his chest. He still felt dizzy.

He was sure his heart actually stopped when he spotted you on the one-person bed. You were holding your knees against your chest. It was dark, but it was you. You were there, a few feet in front of him. He didn’t even know what to do.

But you did.

When you realised who was standing in front of you, you weakly jumped off the bed and rushed into his arms.

The only thing that kept you alive all this time; knowing that he would find you.

You felt even smaller than you already were. With your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest, Gibbs felt you crying.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid he may hurt you. Afraid you would disappear again. “You found me.” he heard you whispering.

That he did.

#jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #agent gibbs #jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #gibbs #ncis fiction #ncis fanfic #ncis fanfiction #ncis

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psychewithwings · 3 years

Text

Relflections

hello, hello,

welcome to the dark side... this is my second collab with bnharem. Please, please, read through the rest of the collab list HERE. I am so grateful to be working with so many other talented writers and artists on this. Special shout out to @doinmybesthere for beta reading and for @kuso-deku whom I dedicate this piece fror giving me the Mirio brain rot...

TW: NSFW, 18++++ Villains, dub-con moments, sex, violence, YANDERE MIRIO, two crazy people, inter dimensional travel, killing, mentions of blood, dirty talk, some cum play

Around 7000 words

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

You flip off the television and rise from your seat on the couch. Your roommate and the object of your affection had already left for the night. Mirio would never obey that curfew, not as long as there were people he could be saving. That’s Mirio for you… always being the hero, even if he’d lost his quirk ages ago. But ever since the onslaught of new villains, and heroes turning to the darkside you’re patching him up more than normal… He returns with wounds more serious now, the scars abundant on his once smooth skin. He is becoming a reflection of the ruin and carnage that floods the streets. This is why you had come up with, planned out, and prepared for a way to fix everything. You could never stop him from being a hero, it was who he was… but you can get his quirk back…

You check your pocket one last time… it’s there, wrapped in that small blue handkerchief. You examine the strange item one last time, careful not to prick yourself with it by mistake. It’s shaped like a sewing pin, only slightly larger. One prick, that’s all it takes, one prick and it will absorb the power from the first thing that it touches. Then one more prick, and the next thing it touches will absorb the gathered power. One chance, that’s all you have.

You grip the chain around your neck and pull the locket out from inside your shirt. You read the engraving on the back, as you always do, and you smile.

Come back to me ~ Mirio

It had been a gift, something to help you when you were learning how to use your quirk. The going part had always been easy, it was the returning from your travels that had been difficult. You open the locket, one side is a watch, the other a mirror. You check the time and write it down to the second on your arm in biro.

7:43. 26 PM

You have 8 hours exactly and you fear you’ll need much more time than that. But your quirk’s limits are not forgiving in the slightest. A second longer and you’ll die.

You take a deep breath, eyes now focussing on the mirror side of the locket. You’d returned this way ever since Mirio gave you the locket, but never once travelled forward through the mirror before. You meet your own eyes and start to feel the familiar pull, your face turning that strange shade of blue.

Please let this work. Please, take me to Mirio.

The gravity in the mirror builds and you can feel the surging power of your quirk. You feel yourself meet your reflection, becoming one with it for a split second before you’re absorbed to the other side of the mirror.

You land in a darkened alley. The smell of stale beer and piss invading your senses, making your head swim even more than normal. The thickness of the summer air does nothing to help. It doesn't matter how many times you use your quirk, it always leaves you dizzy, disoriented. But that was to be expected when travelling to another dimension. Your quirk was dubbed Mirror Image, it allowed you to travel to different dimensions by looking at your own reflection.

You check your pockets again… it’s still there. The “quirk extractor”, that’s not really what it was called but you’d forgotten the actual name of it. It had taken trying quite a few different dimensions to find something like it. It was very possible that you might never find that place again. You had to treat this like it was the only one in existence, afterall, it was the only one in this existence. But where exactly was this existence?

You blink, vision clearing and you examine the alley. It looks like a regular alley, slimy brick walls, dumpster, broken liquor bottles. A few people walk past on the main street, their laughter echoing off the alley’s walls. A lightbulb buzzes over a shut metal door. But there was no Mirio. The plan was to find a mirror Mirio, a Mirio that had never lost his quirk... extract this Mirio’s quirk and bring it back to your Mirio, the Mirio you loved.

You had done enough dimensional travel to know that every version of the self was weirdly connected. That’s why you had travelled forward through the mirror he had given you this time. You had hoped it would bring you to another Mirio, since the mirror had never failed to take you back to him… even if you were in a strange corner of the universe. But alas, it was like travelling through any other reflection. As usual, you stand in an unknown location, trying your best to figure out where you’ve ended up.

You kick a stray tin can in frustration as you walk towards the more populated streets. You laugh at your own stupidity. You knew the real reason you were doing this. Maybe, this act of love, retrieving his stolen quirk would change his mind. Maybe he would take back what he had said all those years ago… the words that would never stop ringing in your ears.

You’re standing on the sidewalk, trying to decide which way to go when the sound of rusty hinges snaps you from your thoughts. You turn to look back down the dim lit alley. A man with shaggy blue hair exits the building, his red eyes gleam and your heart drops. It’s hard to see but you’d know his face anywhere, he’s practically taken over your city, Shigaraki Tomura. Take a few steps to where you’re concealed by the wall of the building. He speaks to someone who is still inside the building. You angle your head to try and hear over the busy street. “They’ve just been getting in the way is all, and I need you to get them out of the way… see?”

Why did your quirk take you to Shigaraki when you had specifically thought of Mirio? The streetlight’s shadows help to hide your shape. You peek around to see who he is talking to. Your breath hitches in your throat as you see the tall blonde exit from the building’s wall. Mirio. You watch as he leans his shoulder against the brick from which he just emerged. He looks taller, stronger, and still has his quirk… would your Mirio have looked like this if his power had never been robbed? His grey tshirt is pulled tight around his body and his usually done hair is ungelled, almost messy, bangs hanging just above his eyes. “That’s easy, you have anything actually worth my time?” he jokes. Shigaraki looks unamused, eyes closing in annoyance.

“Just do it, and don’t make it so messy this time… you tend to leave a trail wherever you go,” Shigaraki scolds. Mirio grins, but it’s not the same warm smile you’d grown to love, this smile is darker, more sinister. “I’ll take care of it boss, sheesh, you worry too much,” he rolls his shoulder on the wall until his back is flush against the brick. He pushes off of it and heads towards the end of the alley. You panic as he heads your way. “It’s that hotel on the corner of Roosevelt and Third,” Shigaraki screeches after Mirio who gives him a wave of his hand. “If you weren’t so useful I’d kill you,” Shigaraki adds. Mirio’s laugh bounces off of the alley walls. “You could try,” he calls as he rounds the corner, just passing you as you crouch near some bags of garbage praying he doesn’t notice you. But he passes you, languidly walking towards the destination he was just given by Shigaraki Tomura. That’s when it hits you… by going through Mirio’s mirror, you have found yourself a mirror Mirio. An exact opposite to the man you know.

The thoughts are swirling around in your head but there’s no time to sort through them… you have to follow him. You slowly rise from your hiding place and melt into the crowds of people. It’s lucky that Mirio is so tall, it makes him easy to follow from a safe distance away. The crowded main streets turn to less populated side streets and you have to maneuver accordingly to stay well hidden. Mirio approaches a building with a neon sign that spells out HOTEL in red letters. A glowing arrow points to the double doors at the front of the building. He hurries up the steps before slipping inside.

You follow close behind to make sure not to lose him inside but leave a long enough gap so that it isn’t too obvious. Upon entering, you’re met with the old red carpet that should have been replaced twenty years ago. Dust clings to the fabric of the sofa and cobwebs dangle from the antique crystal chandelier. The floor is well polished however, reflecting the lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s strange that there’s no clerk at the desk but a few people piddle about the lobby. A man makes eye contact with you, furrowing his brow in confusion. A woman in a short, low cut dress slips her hand below another man's belt and whispers something in his ear. No one blinks when Mirio makes a beeline down the hallway to the left. This was not an ordinary hotel. You walk calmly after Mirio and peer down the long dark corridor. There’s not sight of him but you watch the door at the end of the hall close. There. The lights in this section of the hall are off and everything seems quiet, whereas the hall to the right was lit and loud. Sounds of pleasure and partying spilling from underneath each door. You curse Mirio for walking down the more sinister path and follow begrudgingly.

The hall is dark save one room where hysterical cries seep out. You don’t want to know what was going on and instead keep your eyes trained on the small bit of light that pours from the window inside that end door. Upon closer inspection there is a coating of condensation on the glass. This must be the pool.

You retrieve the quirk extractor from your pocket and remove it from it’s wrapping, careful not to prick yourself. You slowly open the door he had gone through just moments ago. You slid inside the door slowly and carefully, making more sound than you would have liked, but it can’t be helped. Any sound easily bounces off the water of the glistening blue pool. The smell of chlorine is overwhelming and you start to realise that there aren’t very many good hiding places in a place like this.... And Mirio is nowhere to be found. You grip the quirk extractor as you hear a door towards the back of the room slam shut. Another exit… your footsteps echo far more than you would like for them to as you head towards the door.

“Gotchya.”

The voice startles you. Your grip on the quirk extractor falters, coupled with the way you jump… you watch as it slowly descends into the water, effectively pricking the pool. The ball at the end of the extractor emits a green light as it sinks to the bottom. “You idiot!” you shout before you can think better of it. Mirio steps from the wall and quirks an eyebrow up at you. “Me idiot? You’re the one following me with the stealth of one of the 3 stooges.”

He looks even more dangerous up close. A long scar descends from his chin down his neck. And while his eyes are the same colour, there’s a glint in them which your Mirio lacks. He’s faster as this version of himself, and you don’t have time to think before your back is against the cold tile wall. “So gorgeous, gonna tell me what that thing was and why you’re following me… or will I just rip the answers out of you one by one.” You’re too confused watching as he looms over you. His expression is half pleased, half irritated. You inhale to speak but the words don’t come. The smile on his face right now… it’s the expression of someone who has killed and enjoyed it. It’s never something you could have pictured to play across Mirio’s face and it jars you. A chill runs up your spine and goosebumps prickle on your arms. He’s terrifying but also so beautiful.

One of his hands moves up to grip your throat as he growls, “I’m waiting, bitch.” You flail as his grip tightens, scratching your nails into his arm in hopes that he will let go. “Please Mirio, I-I’m sorry.” His grip loosens suddenly but his hand stays around your neck. “What did you call me?” You cough and inhale, then meet his eyes. There is a familiar curiosity within his gaze but it’s joined by something else, that same strange glint. Is it amusement or something much more sinister? You can’t put your finger on it. “Mirio, your name is Mirio,” you murmur. A sly smile crosses his face as he moves closer to you, his hips pinning yours to the tile. “Yes, but how do you know that?”

You stutter, trying to find the right words, a sigh haphazardly escaping your lips as the heat from his body becomes intoxicating. “You been sent to spy by the heroes?” You shake your head and try to wiggle free, but only succeed in grinding against him. A low laugh bubbles from his throat as he pins your wrists above your head with one hand and stills your hips with his other. “That’s real cute, but not gonna get you out of trouble with me…” His eyes flick down your body then back up. “Quite the opposite actually,” he teases. Your face feels warm and your eyes dart down and away. “Aww you’re so shy now, makes me wanna eat you up.” Mirio tilts your chin upwards so you’re looking at him. His eyes have softened slightly. “Just tell me,okay? I don’t wanna have to hurt ya.” There's a strange pleading in his tone, a sincerity you didn't expect. “We know each other, Mirio… well sort of,” you match the tone of his voice. A smirk breaks on his face, “are you my stalker?” You roll your eyes, he still had a sense of humour in this universe. It’s nice to know some things never change.

“No, no we’re friends, but I know a different… you.” He blinks before his eyes narrow. He starts to speak but you continue to explain… about your quirk, the Mirio you know, and how you’d planned to steal his quirk. You show him your locket, the engraving. He still seems suspicious as he turns it over in his hands, examining it. “You’re a crafty little liar, I’ll give you that, had this made and all, but now I’ll have to pull the truth out of you, and like I said, I really didn’t want to have to do that to you.” “Wait… I can prove it, just let me use the mirror… then I’ll leave you alone.” Mirio looks you up and down again before opening the locket and holding it out for you.

You focus on your reflection and watch as your face turns that strange blue black colour. Guilt seeps from your mind and travels down your spine as you’re pulled towards your reflection. The quirk extractor was sitting at the bottom of the pool, now carrying within it the power of chlorine… You hadn’t helped Mirio, only discovered a dark side to his existence… which wasn’t all that bad it seemed. He hadn’t harmed you at all, just threatened you slightly and even then it had seemed he was teasing and flirting more than anything. Your Mirio had never flirted with you… on purpose. The pull of the mirror became stronger and there was a strange sadness, a feeling that you would miss this version of Mirio. This version of Mirio was void of the sunshine that the original Mirio held within him at all times, but this Mirio seemed to see you. This Mirio had given you more in a few seconds than the original Mirio had in years. You shut your eyes as you began to fall into the mirror’s reflection. The original Mirio’s words that he’d said to you that day still hanging heavy in your heart. You laugh at your own pathetic nature for the second time today. You fantasies of Mirio were just that… just fantasies. In all universes.

A hand pushes you backwards away from the mirror. The impact is so strong you stumble, but the same hand catches you and pulls you into him. You gasp for air, your head reeling from being ripped from the portal. Mirio holds you close, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just- I didn’t want you to go.” His voice is riddled with guilt, shaking slightly. You fist your hands into his shirt, gripping the fabric as you struggle to stand. “Whoa whoa, hey,” he consoles as he sinks to his knees, bringing you with him. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. “I really didn’t mean to- I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m okay, I’ve just never been pulled from a portal before,” you stutter. His thumb brushes over your face temple. “You remember your name?” You state your name and he repeats it, “Y/n… I love it.” A smile plays on your features, cheeks heating once again upon hearing the compliment. “Hey, what’s 2 + 2?”

“4,”

“Damn, well I guess you’re a math wiz.”

Your eyes flutter open and he smiles, “there she is.” You squeeze your eyes shut then open them once more in an effort to stop the room from spinning. “Are you gonna kill me now?” you drawl. Mirio pouts, “well that depends, are you still gonna steal my quirk for other me?” You laugh and roll your head away from him. “I can’t, it’s in the pool now, it’s absorbed the fucking power of chlorine.” Mirio laughs, “well whose fault is that?” You look up at him, there’s an intensity to his gaze when you meet his eyes. Your heart hammers against your chest… “yours.” You start to sit up, his arms still cling to you. “You’re the dummy who let go just ‘cuz I scared you.” You hum considering his words, “you don’t scare me Mirio.”

His arms relax around you and you move to lay down on the tile floor. Your back relaxes against the floor and you move your arms over your head to rest your head in your hands. “You should be afraid, I’m a whole different me, sweetheart,” he remarks. He moves to lay next to you, mimicking your position. “You’re still Mirio,” you sigh, your eyes taking in the blank space of the ceiling. “You don’t know the things I’ve done, my body count, nothing.” “You’re still Mirio,” you insist. Laying like this you can hear the echo of your words bouncing off of the water. “He’s lucky, other me… to have a girl like you.” His last few words are whispered, failing to bounce around the room. They hang over you, adding weight to the atmosphere. “Ah well, the Mirio in my universe doesn’t see it that way,” you deflect. Mirio rolls to face you, his head laying in the crook of his arm. “I know we don’t know each other… not really, but it’s strange, I feel like I’ve known you forever.” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are practically on fire now, that small glint having grown into a flame. “In a way we have, I know a version of you… what I’ve come to find is every universe has overlaps of some sort… you and the Mirio I know will share some things… memories even.” Mirio’s face lights up, “yes exactly, I feel like I’ve seen you in a dream or something…” You shrug, “it’s possible.” Mirio smiles, it’s a familiar smile, a sincere happiness that the Mirio of your universe wears often. Much different than the smiles this Mirio had even just a few moments ago.

“Why are you a villain?” you ask him. Mirio clutches his chest in mock pain. “That hurts, sweetheart… Just because I don’t accept the truths the rule makers of our world have given me… that’s what makes me a “villain”?” You narrow your eyes, “I meant more that you’re a hitman working for Shigaraki Tomura.” He laughs, “heard that did you? Guess you were following me for longer than I’d realised.” He pauses and moves closer to you. “I have no problem getting rid of a few people who won’t contribute anything of value… most lives are a total waste, I’m merely an exterminator… getting rid of the bad to make more space for the good…” He says it so casually that it makes chills run up your spine. “So does that make you the good or the bad?” He laughs again though this time he is less amused with your question. “I’m just a sacrificial pawn, sweetheart… can’t be good to make space for it.”

You reach out and touch his bare arm. His skin is hot against his fingertips. “You didn’t hurt me… when you thought I was lying, you can’t be bad…” He smiles, “That’s just because I see how good you are and I want to protect that… protect you.” His hand begins to mirror yours, stroking up and down your arm with light fingertips. “If you can see the good, then that makes you good.”

His fingers grip into your arm and he pulls you closer to him. He reaches for the back of your neck when he notices the smudge of ink on his hand. He examines your arm and finds the numbers. “What’s this?” he asks. You sigh, “it’s the time I have to go…” He pulls your face closer to his, your noses almost touching. “You can’t stay?” You shake your head, “Only for 8 hours, else I’ll be torn apart by the universal pulls… I’m not really supposed to be here ya know,” you joke. Mirio’s face falls, “Can you come back?” You shrug, “I can but the time I can stay is deducted every single time I return to a universe until I can no longer visit anymore…” Mirio’s thumb rubs soft circles into the flesh of your cheek. “What should we do then?” he asks. You smile sadly before sitting up. You give him an impish smirk. “Well, there’s a pool, I say we swim.”

You start by removing your top, slowly peeling it away and discarding it to the floor. Mirio follows, taking off his grey tshirt. His figure is chiseled, each muscle toned and defined. You start unbuttoning your trousers when you feel the heat of his chest flush against your back. “Can I?” he asks as his hands rest on your hips. You nod and he slowly pulls your pants down your legs. He helps you step out of them before throwing them towards the growing pile of clothes. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, trailing kisses up your thighs. You grab his face with two hands and pull him to standing. “My turn,” you smirk, looping your fingers in his belt loops and pulling him towards you. You undo his pants, kissing down his chest. Savoring the taste of his skin. He groans at your touch and you feel the heat pooling low in your belly. His pants removed his stands only in grey underwear, while you remain in your bra and panties.

You teasingly move away from him and stand on the first rung of the ladder in the deep end of the pool. You look back to where he stands, calling him to you with your gaze. He groans as he moves towards you. “I’m really holding back you know,” he growls, pressing his chest against your back, his a. “Why hold back? You can have whatever you want… Just take it, make it yours.” Mirio trails his lips up your neck, ready to suckle a mark into your skin, when you add, “if you can,” and step off the ladder into the blue water.

As soon as the water touches your skin you’re swimming towards the other side. You hear Mirio dive in after you and know that this has all been futile. He grabs your hand and slings you gently towards the wall. He places both of his hands on either side of your body, pinning you. You wipe the water from your eyes before wrapping them around his neck. “You caught me so fast… I thought you’d chase me around more,” you provoke. He shakes the water from his hair and moves his body closer to yours. “Chasing you is a waste of fucking time right? I want to have you,” he growls. You open your mouth to say something but are silenced by his lips on yours.

The kiss is needy, sloppy. He kisses you like he’s starving, finally being fed. His tongue draws circles around yours before sucking it into his mouth. You moan into the kiss and he responds by pulling you closer, grinding on your clothed cunt with his hardening cock. He moves to run his tongue along your bottom lip before nipping at it. You sight into the kiss, turning your head to deepen it. You pull away a wry smile on your face. Mirio’s pupils are blown, that unfamiliar glint in his eye now having a name for it, desire.

“Miri, I want you,” his hips stutter against yours upon hearing this. “Fuck princess, I won’t be able to hold back anymore if you keep looking at me like that.” You pepper kisses to his face, tasting the chlorine on his skin. “Don’t hold back,” you whisper, “I trust you, you’re good to me, I’m yours if that’s what you really want.” His breath shakes upon hearing this and he presses his forehead to yours. “Mine? All fucking mine? Like this me?” You nod and kiss him again. This time you catch his bottom lip and suck it, pulling on it just to hear him moan.

He helps lift you to where you’re sitting on the edge of the pool. He peels your panties down your legs before spreading them. He kisses one of your thighs before massaging the other. “So fucking perfect,” he praises, “all fucking mine.” He trails his hand and mouth up the inside of your thigh. He spreads your folds, drinking in the sight of your bare cunt. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he sighs. “I’m gonna make you forget about any other versions of me, you’re going to be all mine.” He presses a kiss to your clit, “gonna be all fucking mine, princess.”

He drags his tongue, slow, up your slit and circles it around your clit before sucking on it gently. You stifle a whine and you can feel him smiling in pride. “That is princess, lemme hear those sweet sounds.” He does the same move again and this time you don’t hold it in. Your sounds of pleasure echo around the pool, bouncing around and finally landing back on your own ears. But you don’t hear them, as you’re too lost in the pleasure. Mirio grips the wall of the pool with one hand while the other comes up to rest on your lower abdomen. His thumb starts rubbing soft circles on your clit while his tongue circles your hole. “Tastes so fucking good,” he growls and then shoves his tongue inside. The muscle is hot, wet, and he slowly begins to add more pressure to your clit while tongue fucking you. You’re completely overcome with a mind melting pleasure as you fall back onto your elbows, your hips grinding against his face. You aren’t sure how, but you can already feel that familiar knot forming in the pit of your stomach. You’re close and Mirio seems to know as he picks up the pace. “Cum all over my face- wanna taste you-” His permission was all you needed and soon you’re clamping down around his tongue, calling broken syllables of his name. He kisses your cunt as you come down from your high. “Such a good girl for me, cumming when I say.”

He lifts himself out of the pool and removes his underwear. He’s thick, incredibly so and long. The head is red, leaking pre cum. You groan at the sight, cunt aching to be filled. You reach for him, pulling him on top of you. He kisses you, deep, passionate, with lots of tongue and teeth. You can feel his cock, thick and hard pressing into your thigh. He ruts his hips into yours, his cock sliding along your thigh. “Please,” you beg. He growls and flips you to where you’re on top and he sits pressing you to him, cock wedged between the two of you. You grind against him in anticipation. “Please Miri,” you plead. He lifts you and in one swift move, you’re impaled on his cock.

You cry out, and it echoes back to you. The stretch is incredible, a pleasurable, dull pain that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He carefully thrusts up into you, and you crumble, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I don’t wanna hurt my baby,” he coos, body stilling. You shake your head, “no it feels good, y-you're just so big.” He laughs darkly, “you love the pain, don't you?” He gives another thrust to test your reaction and this time he can feel it. Your pussy dripping down his cock.He looks down, eyes blowing at the sight, “fuck baby look, I’m not even all the way inside…” You look down and moan, his cock is a little over half inside. It’s too big to fit all the way. “You cute little cunt keeps throbbing on my cock, and when she does, she drools.” He wipes up some of your combined juices with his thumb and rubs into your clit again, just as he had before. Then he starts to move.

He starts slowly bouncing you in his lap at a gentle pace, but soon his eyes change and his thrusts become harder and faster. “I’m sorry princess, but you feel too good, I need more of you, need all of you.” Mirio fucks into you harder, his cock so big he hits every spot inside of you that makes you weak with each thrust. Your cries become louder and more desperate. His cock kissing your cervix with each thrust causes you to disintegrate in his lap. The lewd sounds of his hips smacking into your ass fills the pool. Mirio’s eyes flick down and he growls. “Look at that baby, ‘m all the way inside now, doing so good, so fucking perfect taking every inch I have to give. God you’re fucking made for me.” You sink your teeth into his neck in a desperate effort to stave off your orgasm, to savor the moment you’d waited so long for. The moment where you and Mirio Togata become one. But it feels too good, the pleasure so intense that you’re pushed over the edge again, clenching tightly around Mirio’s fat cock. “Fuck baby, do that again, milk my cock for me while I fuck you into my shape.”

His thrusts become sloppier but he manages to continue to hit all your spots, driving his cock into you at a bruising pace. You’re shaking in his lap, body convulsing from your last orgasm as another starts to build. “Fucking hell baby, you’re so fucking perfect, and you’re mine, all fucking mine.” His hips start to stutter but his pace quickens. “I’m all yours Miri, yes, I’m yours,” you moan. He pulls your head towards him and kisses you with that same hunger as before, teeth gripping at your lower lip and him sucking on your tongue. You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you, white hot. It’s too much and sends him over the edge. “That’s it, milk my cock, milk my fucking cock,” he pants, pouring his cum deep inside you. “I’m gonna get you pregnant, gonna make you mine forever,” he growls as his hot ropes of cum still paint your walls.

Your body is shaking, the post orgasm cold mixed with your wet body has goosebumps prickling your body. He pulls his cock out and groans at the way his cum drips from your hole. He smiles, “you’re even more beautiful now that I’ve claimed you.” You smile against his skin. “I feel more beautiful,” you reply. But Mirio’s words ring in your ears. You sit up quickly but wince. “I hurt you, I’m so-” “No, that isn’t it…” You lay your head in the crook of his neck. “The longer I’m here in this dimension the weaker I become… but I’m okay, don't worry.” You nuzzle into him, trying to steal some of his warmth. He caresses your back, “I wish you could stay…” “I-I have to go back, we can’t be together forever, even though it’s all I want,” when you finally say the words you start to cry. Mirio wraps his arms around you. “You’re cold,” he says. He helps you up holding your hands, “can you stand?” You nod and he walks you back towards the shallow end of the water. He eases himself in first and then takes your hand to help you do the same.

He cradles you to him, “but you can go back to other me, and when you make love to him, you can just think of me… we’re the same.” You look into his eyes, face pleading, “that’s just it Mirio, you aren’t the same at all… he will never love me.” Mirio’s face darkens, anger, pure anger resides in his features. “Why not?” You take a deep breath. These were the words that haunted you from the moment the other Mirio had spoken them. “He told me, I will always love you, but I will never, ever, love you like that.” You whisper this secret to him.

Mirio can see it, the weight you’ve carried in your heart. That Mirio might save people all day long, be an actual hero, but he’s the one that’s more fucked… evil. Breaking the most perfect girl he has ever known into small pieces. No, Mirio could never let such evil exist, even if that evil was technically himself. “I’m gonna kill him,” he vows as he cradles you protectively.

Your eyes widen, and you grip onto his face. He looks at you, smiling. “Miri, do you really want to be with me forever?” He nods and kisses you, “more than anything, you’re mine now, I’ve claimed you, you belong to me.” “I belong to you,” you echo and press your forehead against his. “I think I know a way,” you inform, the grin breaking over your face. He awaits an explanation with wide eyes. “You can come back to my world with me.” Mirio narrows his eyes in confusion, “won’t that kill me? Like it kills you?” You shake your head, “no… that just has to do with the limitations of my quirk… I’ve brought someone back with me before, the only thing is… that there’s already a Mirio in my universe, which could technically throw time and space out of balance. But there’s a small window where it wouldn’t… and if you really want to kill him… then there would only be one again.” You smile and hold his face, peppering it with kisses. “You can kill him and take his place!”

You’re met with Mirio’s grin and another sloppy kiss. “I knew I was right about you, you’re perfect.” You both climb out of the pool and dress in your clothes again. You put the locket around your neck and open it focussing on your reflection. For the first time, holding the mirror, you don’t feel the weight of the other Mirio’s words. This Mirio, now your Mirio, has filled the void that the Mirio of your universe put inside your heart. You wonder now if you’d really loved him all this time or if it was a disguised hatred and rage. You’d always found blood somewhat disturbing but now you were excited to see it. Excited to watch the man who hurt you bleed out and be destroyed by the man you loved. Excited to watch him die.

You grip Mirio’s hand in yours, finger interlaced. “Just don’t let go, no matter what, okay?” Mirio kisses your hand. “I won’t, swear,” he confirms.

Your face begins to change and you feel the gravity sucking you back into your reflection, but this time, you won’t be returning to him alone and in pieces. You’ll be returning to him whole. This time… it would be him lying in pieces on the floor.

#mirio #mirio togata #mirio smut #bnha #mha #bnha mirio #villain mirio #bnharem collab #bnharem #villain au

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flourgirl · 3 years

Text

Even If It’s a Lie

Part I to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter drags you to one of his frat parties, and you realize something you should have a long time ago.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: SO much angst, and lots of pining from Y/N. A couple swear words here and there.

A/N: I liked writing the first one so much that I couldn’t stop when it came to this one! Enjoy :-)

“This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye” -The Last Time, Taylor Swift

“Pete, I don’t know about this…” you said, looking yourself up and down in the mirror. You looked like a completely different person in the short burgundy dress that MJ had picked for you. The shiny satin contrasted with your dirty, white sneakers that hadn’t seen the light of day since you played tennis in the 9th grade.

“Trust me,” MJ had said when she was choosing your outfit earlier that day, “You don’t wanna wear any shoes that you actually like to a frat.”

“Why can’t you go with him again?” you whined, wishing Peter had somebody, anybody else, to accompany him to his “induction ceremony” into Sig Ep.

“I don’t think I’m what any of those frat guys meant when they said ‘Bring a hot girl’. Plus, you were Peter’s first choice,” MJ replied, nonchalantly biting her nails as you held the dress up to yourself. “That’s the one.”

“I’m not hot,” you sighed as you started to hang the many rejected dresses spread across your floor back onto the rack. “I wore a sweater with a cat on it yesterday. That I hand-knitted.”

“Well... you’re cute. And that’s good enough. Plus, you can keep Parker from getting plastered. You know he’s a lightweight,” MJ laughed, reminding you of the many times Peter had called you to pick him up from a late night of partying.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed, still worried about the fact that you did not like parties. Or strangers, or crowds, or really anything that involved socializing with more than four people at a time. Peter had been the same way all throughout high school. That’s what made you guys so close, but... things hadn’t been the same since you started college.

Peter ran from the other room, smoothing the wrinkles out of the gray t-shirt that fit him just right. You saw him grin from behind you in the mirror’s reflection, and he placed his hands on his shoulders, jostling you lightly.

“Y/N! Are you excited! It’s your first college party!” he exclaimed, spinning you around to look him in the eyes. You stared down at your feet, self conscious over how short you felt in your sneakers next to him.

“That’s not true. I’ve been to parties before! Ned’s birthday was just last month,” you reminded him. “Don’t you remember how you watched me bake a cake from scratch and your only ‘contribution’ was eating the buttercream?”

Peter laughed, ruffling your hair like you were his little brother. “No, Y/N, I meant a real party. With booze and music that’s so loud that you can’t hear what someone is saying. That kind of party.”

Your brows furrowed as you began to fully accept that Peter had changed. So, so much. He wasn’t the dorky kid from Queens that carried your books and watched your favorite animated movies with you just because anymore. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

It didn’t take his spidey-senses for Peter to realize how upset he had made you. “Y/N, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to experience everything college has to offer.”

“I think you do that enough for both of us,” you muttered, plopping dramatically onto the couch. Peter followed you, running his fingers gently across your arm as you pouted into a throw pillow. “Couldn’t you have asked any other girl to participate in your frat’s misogynistic tradition?”

“I didn’t want to ask anybody else,” Peter replied. You sat up to look at him, fixing your hair and smoothing out your dress. “I promise, Y/N. I miss you. We never hang out like we used to.”

You rolled your eyes. “And whose fault is that? You’re always—”

“—it’s mine. I know that. So, just come with me tonight and let me make it up to you,” he pleaded, pulling out his signature puppy dog eyes that you could never say no to. “Come on. All you have to do is say the word and we can leave, okay?”

“Okay.”

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

Your nerves worsened the closer you got to the frat houses, not mentally prepared for how loud the music would be or all of the sweaty bodies that would inevitably be pressed against you on the dance floor.

As you approached Sig Ep, Peter gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. He looked deep into your eyes, “Y/N. I meant what I said. All you have to do is tell me that you’re ready to go and we’ll leave.”

“You promise?” you asked, chewing on your lip.

“Promise,” Peter smiled, holding out his pinky to intertwine with yours.

Some tall, buff guy was standing at the doorway and greeted Peter with a fist bump. “Hey, Parker! Good work with the dime! She got a boyfriend?” You recoiled at his attitude towards you. It was as if you weren’t even there.

“Nah, Ryan. She’s off limits.” Peter replied coolly, pulling you inside.

You heard Ryan wolf-whistle from his post, causing you to roll your eyes. “Hell yeah! Didn’t know little Petey had it in him!”

Peter wrapped his arm around you, partly to make you feel better, but also because there wasn’t much space for you two to squeeze your way into the kitchen. “Just ignore him,” he said, handing you a red plastic cup, a bottle of Sprite, and a shot glass of vodka.

You peered up at him, unsure. You weren’t much of a drinker, but maybe, just maybe, it would help you ease up on your nerves. Swirling the liquids together into the cup, you downed it before recoiling from the burn. Cheap vodka sucked, you remembered.

“That’s my girl!” you barely heard Peter say from right next to you, feeling him patting your back before he did two shots himself, swallowing them as if they were water. “Come on, I have some people who’ve been dying to meet you.”

The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy. He had called you his girl. You gripped his hand tightly as he led you down the hallway and onto the back patio, where a group of people sat crowded around a bonfire.

A girl with bleach blonde hair and a dark green dress that hugged her figure came running up to the two of you, practically jumping into Peter’s arms as she greeted him. “Peter! I’ve been waiting for you. Come on, you can sit next to me.”

She pulled Peter towards the bonfire, patting the empty spot on one of the benches next to her. Peter turned to nod at you, gesturing for you to follow them. Once again, it felt like you were invisible to almost everybody at this party.

The blonde girl leaned close to Peter’s face, giggling with an obvious drunkenness. “So, who’s your little friend?” she asked, waving her fingers towards you like you were some kind of pet.

“This is Y/N, my best friend.” Friend. That’s all you’d ever be to him, especially when there were girls like her around.

“Hi, Y/N! I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy. Peter and I met in our thermodynamics class last semester,” she smiled, showing off her perfectly white teeth. “You should’ve seen him! He made everything look so easy.” You already knew that. Peter could do anything he set his mind to.

“Yeah...” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with her bright, gray eyes, which matched Peter’s shirt. “So, uh, who are you here with?”

“Oh, duh!,” she said before tapping the guy on her left’s shoulder, pulling him out of the conversation he was having with the people next to him. “This is Harry Osborn. We go way back. Harry, this is, uh…”

“Y/N,” you reminded her.

“Right! Y/N. She’s Peter’s friend,” Gwen told him. He nodded his head and offered a small wave before returning to his conversation. Of course, you thought to yourself. Peter had only asked you to come with him tonight because she was unavailable.

You stared back down at your stupid shoes as Peter and Gwen talked about titrations and bond solutions. Things that you knew nothing about. Was this why Peter was always out at parties? To see her?

You thought about Peter’s promise. Just tell him, you thought. Tell him you want to leave. But you knew that you wouldn’t. You knew that you couldn’t ruin Peter’s fun just because you decided to be a baby and get scared after just thirty minutes into your very first frat party.

Looking back up at Peter and Gwen, who now had her arms draped around his neck, you excused yourself to the restroom, wherever that was. You just needed a break. Peter nodded towards you before turning back to smile at Gwen.

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

A banging on the bathroom door startled you. “Hey, uh, could you, like, HURRY UP? I have to take a piss,” a boy yelled from the other side. You got up from the edge of the bathtub that you had been sulking on for the past five minutes to open the door.

“Oh. Sorry, Y/N. Didn’t know it was you.” It was Flash Thompson. Flash, the guy who had made Peter’s life a living hell in high school. “God, you look good. Hey, how’s about you waiting out here for me and we could, you know, catch up?” He winked at you and you wanted to throw up.

Your first instinct was to say no. How could you give Peter’s bully the time of day? But you thought about Peter and Gwen. Gwen. Gorgeous and smart and better than you in every possible way, who was probably sitting in Peter’s lap by now and running her fingers through his hair. Your heartbeat quickened as rage rushed through your body. You wanted to hurt Peter, like he had hurt you. “Yes,” you replied, before he slammed the bathroom door in your face.

One minute later, you were pulling Flash down the stairs and towards the backyard. “You washed your hands, right?” you asked, desperately hoping that the answer would be yes.

“Don’t worry, babe. I just peed. Everyone knows that as long as you don’t get it on your hands you’re all good,” he mused. “You use less water that way, too. Save the planet, am I right?”

You dropped his hand, mentally rolling your eyes, and continued trudging towards the bonfire. You watched as Peter turned to smile at your reappearance, which swiftly dropped once he saw who you were with. It seemed like Gwen had backed off when you were gone too. Was this some kind of weird, territorial act that she was putting on to prove that Peter liked her and not you?

Maybe you were overthinking, but it was too late to backtrack. You sat back down on your place next to Peter, the awkwardness thick in the air. Flash had decided to squeeze himself between the two of you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

Peter leaned forward and shot you a dirty look, which you immediately recognized as his “What the fuck, Y/N?” face.

A familiar voice boomed from behind, and you turned around to find Ryan had finally tapped out of bouncer duty to join the festivities. “Who’s ready for Truth or Dare!”

Shit. You hated truth or dare. Peter knew that. Ever since you had been dared to kiss Tyler Rosado in the 7th grade and he laughed right in your face before flat out rejecting you, the game had become a sore spot.

But you looked at Peter, who was cheering alongside the rest of the group, excited as ever to participate in the game that you swore you’d never play again. He doesn’t care, you thought to yourself, not like he used to.

You felt a vibration from your pocket and scrambled to pull your phone out of your jacket. Well, Peter’s jacket. The one he had let you wear on the way here because you were cold. It was a text from MJ.

“How’s everything going?”

“Not good”, you replied, adding multiple sad face emojis at the end of your message.

“What did that idiot do this time?,” she asked. It was like you could hear her “I’m so going to beat Peter up for this” voice through the screen.

“I’ll tell you when I get back,” you sent, before locking your phone and sliding it back into the jacket pocket.

“Alright, alright, alright. So, who’s up first?” You heard Ryan ask, remembering the terrible event that was taking place right before you. “Hey! Gwen, how about you do us the honors?”

“Of course!” she chirped back. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“I know you are,” Ryan laughed, causing the crowd of people to whoop and holler around you. “So, truth or dare.”

“Definitely dare,” she slurred, taking another sip from her beer.

“Who’s got a dare for pretty, little Gwen here? Anybody?” Ryan asked, looking around the backyard.

Flash raised his hand. Fuck. Why did you think that it would be a good decision in any way, shape, or form to bring him with you?

“Gwen, I dare you to make out with the hottest guy here!” he giggled, obviously thinking that she’d pick him. What a dumbass.

She smirked, before turning to Peter. “Gladly,” she said as she moved to press her lips against his. You struggled to watch as they made out right next to you, much to both you and Flash’s dismay. It felt like it had been going on for forever when they finally stopped sucking each other’s faces and the crowd’s cheers died down.

That was it. That was the last straw. You got up from where you were sitting and headed back towards the front door, having had enough of frat parties for the rest of your miserable life. Peter probably wouldn’t even notice that you were gone.

You felt hot tears fall down your cheeks as you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, calling MJ as fast as you could. “Could you come get me,” you managed to choke out. “This—this was a mistake. Please, just come get me.”

MJ asked for your address and let you know that she’d be by in a couple of minutes. You plopped onto the front steps, emotionally and physically exhausted from all that Peter had put you through tonight.

A few minutes later, MJ’s car pulled up in front of Sig Ep, and she ran out to hug you, gently rubbing your back to get you to stop crying. “Where is he?,” she asked angrily, glaring towards the frat house.

You pulled her back, sniffling at her, “Don’t. I just want to go home.”

“Fine. I’ll deal with him later,” MJ said, before the two of you got into her car and drove back to the apartment that you shared. Upbeat pop music played on the stereo, which you promptly shut off, preferring to mope with your head on the windowsill, staring out at the cloudy night sky.

MJ unlocked the front door, and you were greeted by Ned and Betty sitting on the living room floor around a Monopoly board. Betty was obviously winning, and Ned was almost bankrupt.

“Y/N!” Betty squealed, getting up off the rug to hug you. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“It was Peter,” MJ muttered, shooting daggers at Ned.

“What!? I can’t control him,” Ned tried to reason. “Y/N, on behalf of my idiot roommate, I’m sorry for whatever he did this time.”

“It’s okay, guys. I just really want to go to bed, okay?” you told them, heading towards your bedroom.

You kicked off your sneakers and threw Peter’s stupid jacket, which smelled just like him, onto the chair in the corner, plunking yourself face first into the mattress. Ned, Betty, and MJ stood in your doorway, watching the entire thing.

“Yeah… I don’t think she’s okay,” Ned whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

Betty hit him on the head. “Ow!,” Ned replied, rubbing his temple from where she had flicked him.

“Will you all just shut up and leave me alone!?,” you screamed, startling your friends.

“Yeah, of course. Just tell us if you need anything, Y/N. We’ll be right outside,” MJ reassured you, before shutting your door behind her.

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

You woke up the next morning to the smell of blueberry pancakes and maple syrup wafting throughout the apartment. Dragging yourself to the bathroom, you wiped away the leftover makeup from last night and brushed your teeth, ready to forget about everything that had gone wrong yesterday.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Betty sang from the stove, placing yet another pancake onto the already towering pile before sliding the plate in front of you. “They’re for you. Blueberry, with a little bit of cinnamon, just like how you like ‘em!”

You managed to give her a weak smile, before digging into the breakfast she had so lovingly prepared for you. “Where’s MJ,” you asked, knowing that she would never still be asleep past 7 a.m.

“I’m not supposed to tell you…” Betty answered, obviously trying to deflect from wherever their roommate was. “Apple or orange juice?”

“Apple,” you replied. “No, seriously, Betty. Where is she?”

Betty placed the glass next to your plate of pancakes. A heavy silence hung all throughout the kitchen as you realized the only place that MJ could be right now. She was going to kill Peter.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, scrambling to pull your shoes on and running out the door. Betty mentally cursed herself out for not being able to keep a secret, chasing after you down the stairwell.

“Y/N! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop! Please, MJ is just looking out for you!,” she panted from several stories ahead. Betty had no idea when you had gotten so fast.

“Don’t care! He’s my best friend!” you yelled back, before rushing out onto the sidewalk and running across campus towards Peter and Ned’s dorm room. You hated how much you still cared about Peter after all this time. You hated how much you loved him.

As soon as you reached their door, you frantically knocked on it until Ned opened up. “Oh, Y/N, you’re not supposed to be here. Hey, wait—”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, squeezing your way past him and into their common room. There, MJ and Peter sat playing a game of chess. Until MJ transferred to your school, nobody had ever been able to beat Peter in chess. You scanned the board as they became aware of your presence, and felt a sense of pride seeing that MJ had his pieces tied up to ensure that she’d have a checkmate in five. He’d either have to resign or let her pick off his queen, two knights, and rook one by one.

“Oh,” you sighed with relief, seeing that Peter was still alive. Everyone in the room was staring at you, waiting to see what you had to say.

“Well. I’m going to head home. See you later, MJ. Bye!” You turned on your heels and headed towards the door, where Ned was standing with his jaw on the floor.

Peter scrambled to his feet as he caught up with you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around just as he had done yesterday. “Y/N. Let me explain,” he whispered softly, like there was nobody else in the room. Curse those damn puppy dog eyes. You were better than this. You needed to stick up for yourself.

“Goodbye, Peter,” you said, before breaking free of his grasp and walking out the door, doing your best not to cry in front of everybody.

He started to follow you before MJ pulled him back, uttering a simple “Don’t.”

Walking back to your apartment, you realized that you had been right all along. Peter had changed, and nothing was ever going to be the same between the two of you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #mcu

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the-dream-team · 3 years

Text

Happy 420! Enjoy a fluffy little 6th year jily fic featuring plenty of ouid and pining :) tw: recreational drug use

Read it on AO3

“I have a feeling the properties of that water might reinforce the Deception Elixer I’m working on with Slughorn, so the next time we go to the Mirror Pond, remind me to bring a jar, Mary.”

James’ head snapped around so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash. Maybe he should have been subtler about listening in on Lily’s conversation across the Common Room, but old habits die hard and he was too caught off guard by what she said to stop himself.

“The Mirror Pond?” he practically shouted, grabbing Lily’s attention and earning him a confused raised brow. “The one in the Forbidden Forest? With a surface so reflective it could be mistaken for solid glass?”

“That’s the one, Potter,” she replied casually, exchanging glances with Mary and Dorcas. “Glad to know your hearing hasn’t been affected by sixteen straight years of Mummy shouting her praises at you.”

A year ago that quip would have bothered him, but something affectionate glimmered behind her eyes and sent a flurry of hope through his ribcage. Of all the ways he’d felt towards Lily, hopeful had never been one of them… until recently.

“It’s been seventeen straight years now, Evans,” he pointed out with a grin. “I know you, of all people, haven’t forgotten my birthday party last month.”

Even from across the room, he could see a pink tinge spreading across her cheeks. His heart soared, remembering a few weeks back when Lily had- with the encouragement of an emptied bottle of Firewhiskey- given an impassioned speech about James’ ‘surprisingly lovely qualities’ and how lucky she was to be his friend. It was the first time, to his delight, that the “F” word had been used, despite months of suspecting they were close to reaching that point. The speech concluded with a sloppy hug (that James cherished every second of) and her promptly falling asleep on the nearest armchair.

It was a birthday he wouldn’t soon forget, and neither would Lily, judging from the blush continuously growing on her face.

“For real, though, Evans,” he continued, “how do you know about the Mirror Pond? I’d think a Prefect such as yourself would know the Forest is off-limits.”

“Then how do you know about the pond, Potter?” she asked with a smirk.

He glanced back at his friends, who sat around the fireplace amused, listening to the conversation. Remus arched a brow, curious to see how James would explain away their monthly trips exploring every corner of the forest, and Sirius just laughed. At least Pete had the good sense to pretend to be reading, despite holding his Divination textbook upside down.

“Doesn’t matter,” James waved, dismissively. “I’m just surprised you girls spend your free time in the forest. There are dark creatures in there, y’know.”

“Are you scared of the Flobberworms, Potter?” laughed Lily.

“The Forest is beautiful,” chimed in Mary as she left her seat by the windows to join the boys around the fire. “That’s why it’s the best place to go after raiding the Greenhouses.” She plucked a sugar quill from Sirius’ hands before settling in on an armchair, a sly grin curling at the corner of her mouth. Lily rolled her eyes, but she too had a suspicious smile playing on her lips.

James glanced around his mates, wondering which one would take the bait.

It was Peter.

“What do you raid from the Greenhouses?”

“Keep your voice down, Pettigrew,” said Dorcas in a hushed tone, swiftly moving to join Mary on the chair. Lily reluctantly followed her friends and James’ heart leaped when she chose to sit next to him on the sofa.

“We get the best stuff from Sprout’s private collection,” Mary sighed. She seemed to be speaking vaguely on purpose.

“The best stuff for what?” asked Peter, unknowingly taking one for the team yet again. Sirius leaned back in his seat with an air of nonchalance, but James could tell his curiosity was getting the better of him by the sudden tapping of his foot.

“For smoking, you posh knobs,” said Dorcas.

“Oh!” barked Sirius, relief washing over his face. “I smoke all the time. I’ve even got a pack on me now-”

“Not cigarettes, Black,” Lily cut in. “We smoke grass.”

Sirius looked dumbfounded, not bothering to hide his confusion anymore, and James reckoned he looked the same. Suddenly, Remus burst out laughing and James nearly fell out of his seat.

“Oh, like Muggle grass?”

“Exactly, Lupin,” said Mary, turning back to the girls. “See, I knew there was a reason we liked him best.”

Sirius whipped around to look at Remus as though he’d just transformed into the Giant Squid. Remus hit him with a pillow.

Peter knit his brows together and let out a huff. “Why would you smoke grass?”

“Bloody hell,” groaned Dorcas, “not the grass that you walk on, Pettigrew. It’s Marijuana. We’re smoking drugs.”

“Like medicine?” asked Sirius, picking his jaw off the floor from Remus’ betrayal.

“Well, technically it is medicinal when you use it in potions, but when you smoke it, it’s a bit more… fun,” Lily chuckled and James turned to look at her. The amusement lit up her eyes in a way that made him say stupid things.

“Oh yeah,” he said with mock confidence, a hand raking through his hair, “we’ve actually been meaning to try that stuff for ages now.” He shrugged, hoping the girls couldn’t peer into his brain and see that he’d never even so much as sniffed one of Sirius’ cigarettes before.

“I’m sure you have,” said Lily, patting his shoulder. Her touch- intoxicatingly warm- acted like a reward for his idiotic behaviour.

“Well, do you have any on you?” he asked, holding her gaze. He let his smile go lopsided and watched her expression turn from amused to mischievous.

She glanced at Mary and Dorcas. “Alright. We’ll meet you in your room in ten minutes.”

And with that, the girls stood up and left the Common Room, leaving the Marauders gaping at each other in their wake. In a flash, the boys jumped to their feet and raced up the staircase to their dormitory.

“Moony, you’ve got to tell us everything you know,” said Sirius, pacing back and forth, a cigarette twirling around his fingertips.

Remus flopped onto his bed. “I don’t know much! I only did it once last Summer with the boys down the street.”

“Bloody help you are,” moaned Sirius.

“But why are we taking medicine when we aren’t sick?” asked Peter.

“You heard Evans,” James jumped in as he quickly made his bed and shoved dirty laundry into a drawer, “when you smoke it, it’s fun. Right, Moony?”

“I guess, but when I did it I just got lightheaded.”

“Oh, Merlin, we’re going to look like fools.”

“We already look like fools, Padfoot. Stop pacing and lean up against the bedpost or something. Act casual.”

“You’re one to talk, Prongs, you’re running around like a house-elf with its head chopped off!”

“Don’t tease him, Sirius, this might be the only time he’ll ever manage to get Lily in his room.”

“That’s a low blow coming from you, Moony.”

“Sorry, mate, you know I’m rooting for you.”

A knock on the door scared the four boys stiff. They stood frozen, staring at each other with wide eyes until a second knock brought them back to their senses.

“Act casual,” mouthed James as a reinforcement before leaping over his four-poster to let the girls in. “Evans, Meadowes, Macdonald,” he greeted. “Long time, no see.”

Dorcas rolled her eyes and brushed past him with Mary into the room, but Lily hung back.

“You excited, Potter?” she asked. “I know you’ve been looking forward to this for ages.”

He stilled, his breath caught in his throat before realizing she was talking about smoking. “Oh, ‘course,” he sputtered. “So excited. Well, not too excited. The normal amount.”

The flurries in his chest from earlier, now mixed with a healthy dose of nerves, picked up speed as Lily laughed and made her way into the room, sitting down on- of all places- James’ bed.

He short-circuited. Lily Evans was sitting on his bed.

Remus perked up on his own four-poster, trying to subtly catch James’ attention, but having a hard time keeping his eyes from bulging out of his head. Sirius didn’t bother hiding his own bewildered grin, going so far as to point at her animatedly as though James couldn’t see what had happened with his own bloody eyes.

Peter didn’t even bother to hold back. “That’s James’ bed.”

“Okay,” said Lily, unphased, “are you giving me a tour, Pete?”

“No, I just-”

“So, we should get started, right?” James cut in, his voice an octave higher than it should’ve been.

“Sounds good to me,” said Dorcas, settling down on Remus’ bed across from Lily.

So, they were going to be sitting on beds. That was no big deal. No big deal at all. James gathered up every last ounce of casual that he possessed to walk over to his four-poster and sit down next to Lily. He prayed that she couldn’t hear his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. Lily seemed completely unbothered to be next to him on his bed, however, and nearly caused him a brain aneurysm when she scooted closer in order to let Mary slip in on her other side.

“So,” said Remus, providing a very welcomed distraction from the thousands of thoughts rushing through James’ brain, “is it about the same as Muggle grass?”

“Practically,” said Dorcas, pulling out a small jar and another ceramic object that looked vaguely like his father’s tobacco pipe. “It’s just a bit stronger.”

“Much stronger,” added Mary, beaming.

“It’s quite strong,” Dorcas agreed, laughing as she packed the pipe with a green substance that smelled impossibly fragrant. “Lily, do you have the lighter?”

Lily reached into her robe’s pocket, leaning against James for a split second as she did so ( Merlin have mercy ), and handed over a well-loved Muggle lighter.

“Technically we could use our wands,” said Dorcas, producing a flame from the plastic and lighting up the green substance. She breathed in through the pipe, waited a moment, then exhaled. “But, when in Rome…”

She passed the pipe to Mary, who repeated the process and moved it on to Lily. James had been so caught up by Lily’s leg bumping up against his own, that he barely noticed how quiet his friends were as the girls blew smoke around their dorm. When he looked up, he noticed Sirius intently staring from Mary to Lily, trying to pick up any tips on how smoking this “grass” worked. As Lily placed the pipe in James’ hand, he wondered if he should have done the same.

“Er, okay,” he said, staring at the pipe. He brought the ceramic piece up to his mouth, like Lily had done before ( Holy Merlin, she just had her lips exactly where his were now ), and hit the little plastic button on the lighter. Nothing happened. He flicked the button multiple times, but the flame wouldn’t come.

“Oh, of course, you’ve never used a Muggle lighter!” Lily grabbed the plastic from his hand and switched the flame into life before his eyes. “Keep it to your mouth, I’ll light it for you.”

She did just that, leaning over to reach the pipe, her fingers so close to his face, she accidentally brushed the tip of his nose, sending his stomach swooshing. And just when he thought he couldn’t get luckier, she put her hand over his to demonstrate how to hold the pipe properly and cover the little hole that let air in. She was warm and soft and smelled so nice that he instinctively breathed in deeply, forgetting all the smoke piling in his throat.

The coughing came in sputters, then gasps. He’d never coughed so much in his life.

Thankfully the sounds of him hacking covered the fits of giggles from the girls and once his own coughs subsided, Peter had managed to pick up where he’d left off. Remus was able to hold his own okay, but Sirius nearly fell off the bed after doubling over from choking so badly.

The pipe traveled around the circle of sixth years, their coughs became less frequent, and the rigidity that plagued the beginning of the night burned away with the funny smelling plant. James barely noticed anymore how he had let his leg relax against Lily’s. Barely.

He looked up to Sirius and pointed to his leg as if to say “Can you believe this is happening right now?” Sirius’ eyes didn’t follow where he signaled, but he nodded all the same, a glaze covering his pupils.

Remus was sprawled out on his back, staring at the ceiling, and occasionally asking questions.

“Is the Giant Squid lonely or just alone? Is there a difference? Are bones the only thing preventing our muscles from acting like tongues?”

Peter just stared, unblinking, towards the door, then back down to his stomach, and back to the door. He interrupted Mary, Dorcas, and Lily attempting a three-part harmony (badly) to say, “I feel like I could chew for a hundred kilometers.”

“Snacks?” squealed Mary, hopping off the bed.

“Snacks!” responded Lily. She grabbed James’ arm, dragging him to his feet. He thought about how he would let her drag him off a cliff if she wanted to. Maybe he should tell her.

He followed Lily down the staircase, through the Common Room, and into the corridors, all the while thinking of the cliffs she might lead him to in the near future.

“Should we watch out for Peeves?” squealed Pete from behind, but James just laughed.

“No worries, Wormy, we’re under the cloak. He won’t see us.”

“Prongs,” said Sirius, laying a hand on his shoulder, “I hate to break it to you, mate, but we aren’t using the cloak.”

James looked around as if seeing his surroundings for the first time. “Blimey!” he laughed. “Would you look at that!”

“Potter,” whispered Lily rather loudly between fits of giggles, “ you can’t shout, we’ll be late to the kitchens! ”

How stupid of him to forget! But when Lily held up a finger and pressed it to his lips while she shushed him, he thought he ought to forget everything he’s ever known if it meant getting her skin directly on his mouth. Maybe he should tell her.

“Do the paintings move when we can’t see them?” came Remus’ lofty voice from several meters ahead of them.

“That’s an excellent question,” Lily said, still whispering. The way she beamed up at James made his whole head spin. “ Personally, I’d like to find out how the paintings work. ”

“I actually know the answer to that one,” James said, his cheeks painful from smiling so wide. Lily looked up at him with eager eyes. “It’s magic.”

“James Potter you twat!” she gasped, punching his arm and running ahead to stand next to Remus at the top of the moving staircase. He watched her link arms with Moony and follow his gaze up to a massive portrait.

“I know exactly how you feel, mate,” said Sirius, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

“Do you, Pads?”

“Happy.”

“Yeah, actually.”

Sirius gave him a long, hard look. “That prank is going to work out so well.”

James paused. “What prank?”

“The one I just thought of. It’s gonna be really good, I’ll tell you about it when we get back to the room. Don’t let me forget.” And with that, Sirius wandered over to join the rest of the group in front of the large portrait.

What was so great about that painting that it warranted all his friends drooling over it?

As he moved closer, it became quite clear that this was actually the most beautiful piece of art that had ever been made. Tall grass danced in a draftless wind, carrying brushstrokes of flower petals over taught canvas. Colors moved together like schools of fish flowing separately, but together, creating life out of something as still as darkness.

“It looks like you, Prongs,” said Remus softly and James wondered if he too could see the energy vibrating off the paint. But then he looked a little harder and saw the majestic stag staring back from the other side of the frame.

“James looks like a deer?” asked Lily, still whispering.

“It’s his soul,” said Sirius. There were no further questions.

Peter whined about his stomach growling and the others mumbled in agreement, moving on from the portrait on the top of the stairs.

But not James. He stayed, glued to the floor, marveling at the way a single hand could create an entire world on a blank page, drawn in by the stag and how watching him reminded James of looking in a mirror and meeting a new friend all at once.

“Your soul looks nice,” said a voice off to the side. Lily had stayed. James had hoped she would stay, but he had been too scared to look. But she was still there and moving closer as a smile stretched across his lips.

“Thanks,” he said. He looked down to meet her eyes, so clear and bright he could make out the reflection of antlers deep within her irises. “I see your soul there, too.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he continued. “Your eyes are brushed into the leaves and the sunlight is stroked with your hair. You’re in the wind because you’re here and you’re on your way at the same time.”

“You’re funny, James Potter.”

It was the most poetic thing he’d ever heard.

He opened his mouth to respond, but a flash of mocha brown caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see a beautiful, graceful doe stepping into the frame, joining the stag.

“There I am,” said Lily and her words sounded like music.

James could have floated away in that moment. She was so beautiful and he was high as a cloud, wondering how he’d ever be able to contain these emotions once he was back on the ground. He looked at the painting like a crystal ball and wondered if his future could be immediately ahead of him. He had to find out. Did Lily want to learn, too?

He reached down and grabbed her hand, thrilled that she didn't let go, and realized what he had to do. How he could show her all their possibilities.

James took a deep breath, gripped Lily’s hand, and lunged forward, pulling her with him directly into the wall. He rammed headfirst into the canvas and bounced backwards onto the floor with Lily toppling after him.

“What just happened?” asked Lily, wheezing from the floor beside him.

He turned his head to catch her eye. “I thought I could take us into the painting.”

After a beat, Lily burst into laughter and James followed close behind. Giggles crashed over them like waves he wouldn’t mind drowning in.

“I think we need some snacks,” said Lily, standing up and pulling James with her. She didn’t let go of his hand once they made it to their feet. He felt her warmth rush up his arm, igniting his nerve endings with happiness and excitement and hope. A hope that he knew he could live in for the rest of his life as long as she was on the other end of it.

Maybe he should tell her.

#jily fic #jily #6th year pining #ouid #420 #tw drugs #i was so stoned writing this #it might just be nonsense!#but we'll find that out in the morning

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lilliagradiewrites · 3 years

Text

surprise? (jj maybank)

Summary: You’re John B’s sister, and you’ve been dating JJ in secret for months. What happens when John B sees a hickey on your neck, and realizes his best friend has been making on his little sister?

WC: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Hickey/ mentions of sexy time, cursing, mentions of violence

A/N: Another JJ one shot! This one has been sitting half-finished in my collection for a while now, so tonight I decided to complete it! I’m such a sucker for a brother’s best friend moment, so I knew I had to write a JJ x Routledge! reader fic. i hope you all like it!

PS: Thank you so much for all the love on evermore, my last fic!! It was so well received, and has gotten more recognition than anything else I've ever uploaded. I’m so thankful!!

I love you all so so much, and I hope you enjoy!!

LET’S DO IT!

~~~~~~

Neither you nor JJ could pinpoint the exact moment it began.

Being John B’s younger sister, you had known the blonde boy for basically your entire life. In seventh grade, you had developed a slight crush on JJ. He was the older, popular boy that cracked funny jokes; how could you not like him? You had always thought he was cute, but you started seeing him in a different light around the age of twelve.

The crush quickly faded away, and you found yourself with many boyfriends and flings over the years. Looking back on it now, you don’t think your feelings JJ ever truly went away… you had just forced yourself to forget them.

For JJ, the feelings developed around his sophomore year, when you were a freshman. For the vast majority of his life, he’d seen you every day when he inevitably made his way to the chateau. He’d cared about you, of course, but no more than a ‘I care about her because she’s my best friends little sister’ kind of way.

He has a vivid memory of you, the morning after he’d had a sleepover with your brother. He was sitting on the couch with John B, having a conversation about some stupid guy thing he couldn’t even recall now. He remembers seeing you walk out of your room, having just woken up, wearing an oversized t-shirt. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you didn’t have on any makeup.

He couldn’t explain why, but you looked so damn beautiful to him that day. You never noticed him staring at you, but John B did. JJ remembers his friend’s brows furrowing.

“What the hell are you staring at?” After following JJ’s gaze, his eyes widened. “Are you looking at my sister, man? Cut that shit out.”

“No, of course I wasn’t. I was looking out the window. Chill, bro.” JJ had quickly denied the claims of his friend, who didn’t entirely believe him but chose not to say anything else on the topic. After that day, JJ tried his best to avoid staring at you, but it was always hard for him.

Within a month after that incident, you began hanging out with the Pogues more and more. They quickly became your best friends, and you loved them all more than anything. They all helped you and John B through the disappearance of your father, and you were eternally grateful.

Naturally, you found yourself growing the closest with Kie. Being the only two girls, it made the most sense for the two of you to be very close. Kiara was like a sister and a best friend all in one, and you loved her very much.

Pope was always great. He kept you and the rest of the pogues in check, making sure you remained safe and made smart decisions. John B, of course, was your older brother, and you were very close with him. You had your frustrations with the brunette, however. One thing that always pissed you off about John B was how insanely protective he was. He would threaten any guy whose eyes lingered too long on you at a party, and it took years of convincing to allow him to let you go on a date. You loved him, of course, and knew he was always trying to keep you safe, but you couldn’t help but be frustrated with him sometimes.

And then there was JJ. You didn’t even know what to think when it comes to the blonde boy. You had always noticed something special about him, and felt slightly different towards JJ then all the other boys. For some reason, the both of you kept your distance from each other. Maybe, you both knew in the back of your mind that if you got too close, there’d be no pulling you apart.

One night at a party, you had gotten absolutely wasted. Kiara had gone home with some girl, Pope’s dad didn’t let him come, and John B was nowhere in sight, meaning it was up to JJ to take care of you. He brought you home, cleaned you up, and put you into bed. In your intoxicated state, you let your walls fall down. You told Jj how you felt about him, too drunk to worry about the consequences.

Fortunately for you, the feelings were reciprocated. JJ said that he felt the same way, and he’d been keeping his distance from you because of strict commands from John B. “Anytime I’d get close to you, or even be ‘too friendly’ towards you, I’d get the whole ‘my sister is off limits’ lecture, I was tired of hearing it, and I didn’t think you felt the same anyways.”

That night was the beginning of a long journey. He kissed you, and you were happier than you’d ever been. He ask you to be his girlfriend, and you happily said yes. There was only one issue with the whole situation.

Your stupid, overdramatic, overprotective brother.

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him for a while?” Jj suggested after much contemplation on both of your parts. “See where this goes. If it gets super serious, we’ll obviously tell him, but it’s probably best to keep it on the down low for now.”

Though hesitant, you eventually agreed, deciding it was the best decision for now. You hated lying to your brother, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

Six months passed after that night. You and JJ’s relationship grew stronger and more serious with each passing day, but neither of you had the guts to tell your brother. So, you kept dating in secret, the relationship only between the two of you.

Oh, right. And Kie.

JJ had gotten into a habit of sneaking into your bedroom window late at night. He rarely got any time with just the two of you, and even when you hung out with your friends, he wasn’t able to be as affectionate as he wished he could be. One morning, Kiara arrived at the chateau earlier than usual, bursting into your room to find you asleep, wrapped in your boyfriend's arms.

The brunette woke the two of you up with a loud exclamation of “What the fuck?”

JJ kissed you goodbye and scrambled out the window before John B heard anything, and you sat Kie down and explained the whole situation, making her promise not to tell anyone.

Especially not John B.

Kiara, being the amazing person she is, swore secrecy and squealed about how happy she was for the two of you.

Kie’s knowledge of the relationship is part of the reason she insists on waking you up one morning at the chateau. She and Pope had stayed the night, as well as JJ. JJ was nowhere to be found, but the group just assumed that he had run home to grab spare clothes or something.

Well, the boys assumed that.

Kie knew better.

Her suspicions were completely confirmed when she entered your room to find you and JJ cuddled together, just like all those months ago when she had first found out.

“Wake up, guys! JB and Pope are awake. JJ, hop out the window and pretend you went to get clothes from your house. You don’t have a lot of time.”

Immediately, you and your boyfriend were launching up out of the bed. He followed his usual routine of kissing you goodbye and then jumping out of the window. You thanked Kie before beginning to search for your swimsuit.

“You’re welcome, babes. And by the way, I’d make sure to cover up that fatass hickey on your neck before walking out of this room.”

Kie gives you a wink before walking out of the room and closing the door, leaving you there with red cheeks and wide eyes.

You moved immediately to your mirror, and examined the left side of your neck. Sure enough, there it was: a large bruise that JJ had taken his sweet time on the night before. You huffed, recalling when he was giving it to you.

“JJ, don’t.” You breathed, lightly pushing him off you. “You can’t leave marks, everyone will see.”

“Let them see.” He lifted his lips off your neck to look you in the eyes. “I’m tired of hiding that you’re mine. I want everyone to know that you’re taken, by me. Let them see, babe, I don’t care.”

For a moment, he had you agreeing with him. Who cares if everyone finds out? They’d just find out eventually anyways. What’s the difference if they find out sooner rather than later?

But, you eventually cam to your senses. “I’m tired of hiding too, J. We’ll tell them soon, but I don’t want my brother to find out I’m with his best friend by seeing the hickey his best friend gave me.”

JJ paused his movements for the second time, breathing and thinking for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” He bites your earlobe, then leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll make it small. I still want my mark on you.”

Clearly, JJ had lied. The bruise on your neck was absolutely massive, and you’d have your work cut out for you when it came to covering it up. Sighing, you reached for your makeup bag, pulling out some color corrector and concealer.

A good thirty minutes later, the bruise was covered enough to go unnoticed, and you were outside on the dock, dressed in a pink swimsuit and a pair of shorts. John B and Pope were on the boat, preparing it for you day on the water. Kie was inside shoving snacks, water bottles, and beer into a small cooler. JJ, who had just finished rolling a few blunts, came walking out of the house. You heard him approaching behind you, and whipped around to face him.

“I have a bone to pick with you, Maybank.” You glared, crossing your arms over your chest. Your boyfriend looked nervous, his smiling face immediately shifting to a concerned one.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He said quietly, making sure that the other pogues were out of earshot before using the nickname. JJ knew you well, and any term of endearment made you melt for him. He always used them, but was particularly heavy on the nicknames when you were upset with him.

“Last night, I told you not to leave marks. But you insisted, and you told me you’d leave a small one.”

“Yes, that happened. So why are you upset with me?”

“Because the hickey I woke up to this morning was anything but small. It took me twenty minutes and half my concealer to cover that shit up! Are you fucking crazy? Are you trying to get us caught?”

JJ moved towards you, probably to take you in his arms, but caught himself just before he did it, glancing up at the boys on the boat.

“I’m sorry, love. I couldn’t help myself. You look so fucking hot with my marks on your neck. It’s too hard to resist. Believe me, I tried.”

“Then try fucking harder, Maybank! Do I need to remind you that your ass is on the line here, way more than mine? Birdie’s not gonna beat my ass if he finds a hickey on my neck, he’s gonna beat yours! And then I get to have a screaming match with my brother after patching you up in the bathroom. I don’t know about you, but that is not the way I want anybody to find out about our relationship.”

JJ opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again with a sigh. He knew you were right.

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry. I need to gain better self control. It won’t happen again, I’ll listen to you next time. I’m sorry angel, really. Forgive me?”

He was giving you those puppy dog eyes that he knew you couldn’t resist. After a moment of staring into them, you finally gave in. “yes, bebs, I forgive you. But don’t do that shit again, or so help me God…”

Your boyfriend broke out in an ear to ear grin. You could tell that he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and take you in his arms, but he obviously couldn’t. “Thank you! I love you, angel.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, allowing a smile to creep onto your face. “You’re lucky I love you, too. Now come on, I think they have the boat ready to go.”

------

A few hours later, everyone is lounging on the boat. You’d been out on the marsh for a good four hours, and the whole group was beginning to grow tired. The late afternoon sun bared down relentlessly on you, warming your skin and causing your body to overheat, despite the fact that you’d been swimming in the cool water for the past hour.

“God, it’s so damn hot out here. Can the sun chill the hell out for a second?” You complained, taking a swig of your beer.

The rest of the group murmured their agreement from various places on the boat. Absentmindedly, you gather your wet hair in your hand, holding it up on the back of your head to try and relieve the heat on your neck.

Big, big mistake.

Unknowingly, you’d exposed the massive hickey on the side of your neck for the entire boat to see.

The makeup you’d piled on that morning had apparently faded while you swam. Your hair covering it was the only thing keeping you from exposing yourself, and now it was revealed.

“What the HELL is that, Y/N?” Your brother was speaking, pointing at your now exposed hickey.

You looked immediately at JJ, whose eyes had gone wide and cheeks were pink.

“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Birdie.” You replied quickly, not knowing what else to do.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” John B was walking towards you now, and your eyes were wide. You backed away from him, but you could only go so far on the small boat. He reached you eventually, pushing the hair from the side of your neck to reveal the bruise once again.

For a moment, your brother was silent. Strangely, this made you even more nervous then if he was screaming and shouting. You knew your brother well enough to know he was composing himself.

So that he wouldn’t strangle somebody.

“Who did it?” he said quietly. His voice was shaking with anger.

“Did what?” Your voice was shaking as well, but with fear for your boyfriend’s life instead.

“Who gave you the fucking hickey, Y/N! Stop playing dumb! Who did that to your neck.”

Panicking, you glanced over at JJ.

Yet another big, big mistake.

This glance was enough for John B to realize what the answer to his question was. You watched the pieces slowly connect in his mind, and then he was speaking again.

“It was YOU?” He rounded on the blonde boy near the edge of the boat. “You’re messing with my baby sister? Are you fucking kidding me, JJ?”

“Calm down, bird! It’s not what you think.” You were immediately at your brother’s side, trying to calm him down before your boyfriend’s body ended up at the bottom of marsh.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Y/N! I think this is exactly what it looks like! It looks like this dickhead has a screwing around with my sister when I specifically told him not to!”

“We’re not just screwing around, John B!” JJ said in defense.

“Really? What the fuck else are you doing that would end with my baby sister having a hickey on her neck?”

“We’re dating!” You burst out. “We’ve been dating. For six months now.”

John B turned towards you immediately after your statement. He looked completely dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t possibly process the information he had just been given.

“Six months?” he echoed, and you nodded.

John B turned back to JJ.

“Surprise?” The blonde boy, hoping to lighten the mood.

Obviously, he was unsuccessful.

“You’ve been messing with my sister for SIX MONTHS, and I’m JUST NOW finding out? What the hell is wrong with you? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Before anyone could do anything to stop him, John B was lunging at JJ.

As if he’d been preparing to do so, JJ jumped off the side of the boat, landing cleanly in the water.

John B stood over the side of the boat screaming at him.

You mad eye contact with Kie,who was giggling slightly at the whole situation. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~ A/N: Anddddd there’s the end! I really hope you guys liked this!

All notes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

ALSO: SEND REQUESTS!!

I love you guys so much,and Happy Holidays!!!!!

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj x routledge! reader #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #outer banks #obx

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writerofblocks · 3 years

Note

*sneaks this in* Bridget/Troy - things you said with no space between us (or) things you didn’t say at all

This was. From a long ass time ago. BUT ITS FINISHED NOW SO IM POSTING IT.

Sleepless in Stilwater

“Three.”

“Hmm?”

Troy held up three fingers. “That’s the third time you’ve yawned in as many minutes. And I’d be okay with that if you weren’t, you know, doin’ seventy on a forty-five mile an hour highway.”

Bridget broke eye contact with the road long enough to give him a sidelong glare that would wither a lesser man. “I’m not the only one doing their best Fast and the Furious impression out there,” she irritably shot back. A sports car rushed past them with an ear splitting squeal that made Troy jump, and she gestured at it. “See?”

Troy sunk back into the leather seat of the [insert car model here], returning her glare with one of his own. “That’s not the point and you know it. The point is I’d rather not end up a red smear on the pavement because my wheel man fell asleep at the goddamn wheel.”

“Oh, is that all I-” Her mouth cracked open into another face-splitting yawn; she barely managed to hide it behind her hand. “-all I am to you? Your wheel man?”

“Four. And don’t give me that crap, you’re the one that called dibs on driving.”

“I only called dibs cause you drive like a grandma on a broken scooter.”

“You mean I drive the speed limit.”

Bridget ignored him. “Besides,” she said, swerving around a semi-truck sharp enough to make him grab at the handle above the passenger window, “I’ve got places to be after this. Julius called me about a-” she let out another yawn. “-about a storage place, said the Rollerz keep their best wheels there.”

A smirk crossed Troy’s face. He waited until Bridget’s attention was on him before he held up five fingers and wiggled them. It was worth it to see the way her eyebrows dropped into a sharp V before she jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t you fucking say it.”

“Don’t need to say anything.”

The one finger swiftly flipped upward into giving him the bird as she returned her attention to the highway. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the highway this second,” she growled, though a smile playing at the corners of her lips undercut the hostile tone.

Troy chuckled, then settled back in his seat enough to look out the car window. Stilwater was a shithole on a good day, but the oranges, purples, and blues of sunset colored the world into something more palpable to take in. Light bounced off the towering buildings of Downtown, harsh edges and cold, reflective glass softening under the gentle touch of twilight. But you could only watch buildings whiz by for so long. His gaze, as it so often did in these rare quiet moments, returned to her.

As much as he bitched about it, there was one thing he didn’t mind about Bridget being the go-to driver. It allowed him time to just… take her in. Look openly, without other people seeing and giving him crap for being lovestruck. Without her giving him crap for being lovestruck, because even after the months they’ve been together she still shied away from open affection more often than not. She cuts the sentiment with a joke, or by teasing him, or some combination of both. He doesn’t mind it- he wonders sometimes if he’s a glutton for punishment, given his career path and choice of romantic partner, but he doesn’t mind being so. Not with her around.

So he looks at her. The way her eyelids keep fluttering slightly, only for her to stubbornly hold them back open. The dark circles he’d think were black eyes if they weren’t only on her lower eyelids. She’s tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, jiggling the leg not in charge of the pedals. Any motion to tell her body it isn’t time to sleep yet. He’d make a joke about looking in a mirror if seeing it didn’t bother him so much.

That was the downside of being undercover. You got real good at seeing things people tried to hide. He had to say something. He opened his mouth, and...

“For real, though. You look like shit. Have you slept at all?”

And of course something stupid came out. Miracle of miracles, she scoffed instead of chucking him onto the highway. “Bold move to question my sleeping habits. How many used coffee mugs are on your desk again?”

Troy chose to ignore her words. “Look man, just-” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “-go home. Take a shower or something. Get some food. You need a break, Bridge.”

Bridget’s face was impassive, staring straight forward as she shifted the car into the express lane. “Can’t. Julius-”

Enough of this. “Did he tell you to do it tonight?” he asked, cutting her off before she could restate whatever bullshit task Julius had given her to do on top of everything else he’d piled on her. For fuck’s sake, sometimes it felt like she was carrying the whole gang by herself in between the tasks Julius sent down the pipeline and the duties she’d taken on herself to perform.

The glare she gave him could melt permafrost. “No.”

“Then do it tomorrow when you’re fresh.”

“I’m fresh enough,” she bit out. “You’re worrying way too much-”

The words burst from his chest before he could vet them. “I’m worrying the right goddamned amount for someone watching a person he cares about take way more shit on than she needs to.”

Bridget’s eyes went wide, whatever she’d been about to say dying in her open mouth.

Troy ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if this is some macho attempt to prove yourself or some shit, but you don’t have to do this. Slow down. Take care of yourself. Just- please.”

She was quiet for several minutes, eyes locked on the road as she slowed to match the speed of traffic. He’d almost given up on getting a response before she spoke again. “I won’t go to the storage place tonight. It’s-” She swallowed. “It’s late. Rollerz’ll be getting the cars out for races by now, there’s bound to be way more hanging around than during the day.”

He knows those justifications. Her saying he’s right without saying it directly. When she spoke again, her voice was careful. “Got anything else going on later?”

Manila folders scattered across a coffee table, a rapidly growing pile of cigarette stubs as he figures out the best way to ruin his friend’s lives-

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

When Bridget had first joined the Saints, Troy had thought her unreadable. It was easier now to read her once he knew what to look for. Her rubbing her thumb against the side of her index finger- something self soothing. Bouncing her leg- buying time to think. The lift of her head to look at him directly- she was searching him, weighing his reaction. “Feel like staying over?”

Always. “If you want me to.”

The tension in Bridget’s shoulders dissipated, and she gave him a small smile. “Of course I do, that’s why I asked,” she replied, punching him in the arm. “Dumbass.”

===

Rain tapped an improv jazz rhythm on the glass of Bridget’s bedroom window, and Troy couldn’t sleep. Blame the cigarettes, the coffee, the crippling anxiety and paranoia. The cause ultimately didn’t matter, the effect was the digital clock on Bridget’s bedside table hit 2AM and he was no closer to falling asleep than he was when he originally lay down. Bridget, though. Bridget had been asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a moment of satisfying vindication.

He rolled over, resting a hand on her arm.

It was strange to see Bridget asleep. If Bridget was awake, she was moving- tapping her foot, shifting from side to side. She bounced her heels if a meeting went too long, rattling the table until he placed a hand on her thigh to get her to stop (among… other reasons). If she chose to talk, she talked with her whole body, her hands dancing in the air. Even when she was seated and still, a part of her still seemed to tremble with energy, anticipation and eagerness. Not now, though. Now she laid there, the rise and fall of her chest the only motion. Light drifted through the cracks in the blinds from the streetlight outside her window, resting softly on the freckles on her cheeks.

His hand traveled down her arm, into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hip bone. Bridget wasn’t a paper-thin waif by any stretch of the imagination, but without the bulk of her sweatshirt to fill out her usual silhouette, she looked… smaller. More vulnerable. Which was ridiculous, he’d seen what she could do with a gun- hell, forget a gun, he’d seen the havoc she created with her fists alone- but somehow. Somehow that veneer was stripped away in the hazy orange light of a half-dead lamppost bulb, and the only thing left was a tired twenty-one year old who needed a hell of a lot more sleep than she was getting.

Christ. She really was twenty-one, wasn’t she? The face she wore around the other Saints made her seem older than that. It was all harsh angles and stony silences, only a twitch of a smile or a slight furrow in her brow betraying the emotions running electric through her veins. The uncertainty there at the beginning had long since suffocated under a rap sheet he hated to tally up in his head. It was a thing with no remorse, and little room for mercy.

And yet that face was forgotten in her sleep. The ever present tension slackened, releasing that hardened shell and letting it fall away in favor of something softer. She denied the existence of that softness, but he knew. He was allowed to know, he realized, warmth settling in his chest at the thought. Of all people, she’d offered that gift to him.

And it’s a gift you’ll lose soon.

The thought cut a sharp line through the haze, frozen against the warmth of the moment. Troy stilled, his hand resting on her waist. Somewhere in between the light on her cheeks and the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, he’d forgotten what would be waiting for them. That as much as he tried to dodge and delay, the day Chief Monroe decided it was time to pull the plug on the Saints was coming sooner than later- and Bridget, ambitious and unknowing, was only hastening that end.

His sigh was frayed, thin and trailing off into nothing. This relationship was never going to last forever. He’d known that going in, had willingly condemned them both to heartbreak, but it hadn’t mattered then. That future had drowned in the affection in her gaze. The warmth of her laughter. The spark of her lips on his. But now…

Troy cupped Bridget’s cheek, pressing his forehead gently against hers as he closed his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered. He had to say it, just once. Even if she didn’t hear it- since she would never hear it- it needed to escape before it withered under his held tongue. It needed to exist, just for a moment, all his regrets pouring into that simple, weighted phrase.

At some point she’d wake up, either through him gently shaking her or her own merit. Either way she’d grouch at him for not waking her up sooner, blinking blearily at him in a hopelessly endearing way she’d punch him for if he ever mentioned it. She’d whip the covers off of both of them, laughing when he protests. Showers would follow, breakfast of some sort, and time would continue to march forward to that inevitable, heartbreaking point.

But that was a future they didn’t have to face yet. For now, they could stay like this- curling into each other, breath to breath and at peace.

For now, he’d save her a rude awakening.

#writers writes things #otp: troyget #oc: bridget summers #troy bradshaw #saints row

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 7

So this chapter is in Ivar’s POV. Kind of a glimpse as to see what is going on with him. Plus, its a great excuse to write some Floki/Ivar interaction.

Warnings: swearing, implied violence, Ivar having boundary issues but that’s not new.

Words: 4550

Tag List: @heavenly1927 @youbloodymadgenius @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe

Series Masterlist

"There you are, you crippled bastard. I've been looking everywhere."

Ivar smirked, exhaling the cigarette smoke from his mouth, not even turning his gaze from the lights of the city beneath him. "How did you get up here? I thought your old, lazy ass wouldn't be able to handle it."

Floki scoffed as he moved to stand next to his protégé. "Old, lazy ass. I may be old but I could still kick your ass if I wanted too."

Wordlessly, Ivar pulled out his cigarette carton from his suit’s pocket, taking one out and handing it to Floki. He grabbed his lighter and held it out, open palm. When Floki did not immediately take it, he glanced over to see one of the people he trusted most, staring down at the cigarette spinning between his fingers.

"I won't tell Helga."

Floki giggled. "You're a bad influence on me, boy." He took the lighter and lit his cigarette, handing it back over after.

The two stood silently for several minutes, leaning against the railing, overlooking the city. They were at the Ragnarssons Trading headquarters, one of the taller buildings in the heart of the city. The sound of humanity floated away to a hushed background noise with how high up they stood. The upper floors of the building were restricted access, being the main offices and meeting rooms of Ragnar, his sons and others deemed important. The lower floors housed the cesspool of asinine insubordinates, those that did their limited jobs and were easily replaced. Ivar avoided those floors, not just because of the stares, or the twittering females and few males who vied for attention from the Ragnarssons in hopes of snatching one up or thinking sleeping with them as an easy way to further their careers. No, he found them all boring and beneath him. With a single look, he knew what many of them wanted, they were so easy to read, to know their simple minds. It was pathetic.

So, when he did come to the headquarters, he immediately headed to the upper floors. He had an office next to Torstein that he used infrequently. Most of his work he could do remotely, a blessing due to his condition and his volatile temperament. When he had work that needed extra cyber security or to delve deeper into concerns, having the multiple monitors at his office and the ability to search out his father or brothers immediately came in handy.

The roof of the building was his favorite place to think and plan. No one came up here but more than that, he could see everything. The city, the surrounding water, everything. He wondered if this was what the gods felt like looking down on Midgard from Valhalla.

Ivar exhaled, the curl of smoke slipping from his lips. "Are you coming to the meeting?"

Floki ran a hand over his tattooed head. "Your father asked for me to come."

"Mmmm. Know what it's about?"

"Probably the same old boring shit."

They chuckled, still staring over the city. Out of the corner of his eye, Ivar could see Floki tug uncomfortably on the black business suit he wore. The only reason the shipbuilder ever wore anything remotely formal was when Ragnar demanded it….and coming to the headquarters fit into the category. Ragnar liked to say that if they wanted to be taken as serious businessmen then they needed to dress the part, and it was not too difficult to wash blood out of the suits.

The youngest Lothbrok leaned against the railing in a charcoal gray suit, his dark hair pulled back into a man-bun. He did not mind the formal attire as much, there was a sense of prestige and strength that came with it. On more than one occasion, he had been told he presented a striking figure and he liked to use that to his advantage. Whether it was terror or arousal that his figure caused depended on the person. He knew how to control them all.

A vibration had Ivar pulling out his phone to see a new text from Kari. He smiled softly at her cheeky response. When asked what she was doing tonight, she said she was taking a bubble bath and reading a book. He said he did not believe her and demanded a picture as proof she was actually taking a bubble bath like a child. Now he gazed down at an image of her feet peeking out of bubbles against a porcelain bathtub. The picture was so innocent yet sensual, just like his kitten. An innocent seductress. His cock began to stiffen at the lewd ideas running rampage through his mind at the simple picture.

With her picture came a text.

Kari: You should try it sometime. It's very relaxing.

He snorted. There was no way in hell he would ever take a bubble bath, and he figured she probably knew it.

Ivar: the only way I'm gtn n2 a bubble bath is if u in there w/ me

Grinning smugly, he could imagine the flush on her cheeks at his answer as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Floki's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You going to tell me about her?"

Ivar did not answer right away, taking a drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaling it. "Nothing to fucking tell."

"Hmmm…. I'd bet she is the only person you smile for like that."

"Fuck…." He ran his hand over his mouth, before turning to lean his back against the roof's railing. Floki was right and clearly knew it if the sly look said anything. It made Ivar want to knock the smirk off the madman's face with his cane, which rested on the railing next to him.

"This isn't like Freydis, right?" Floki quietly inquired after several minutes of companionable silence.

"Gods, no. She is…." He found his words trailing off, unable to articulate what Kari meant to him.

Freydis had been a hope for someone more than just a fuck, someone who potentially cared for him. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that she may have cared for him, but she cared more for the status and money being in a relationship with him allowed. So, they used each other. She wasted his money on frivolous things, lavishing herself with stuff she would never dream of having otherwise. He used her for fucking and to have someone on his arm when they attended events, to silence the pitying looks from others and the comments that he did not know how to please a woman.

After ten months though, he found himself resenting her and their relationship. It was then he broke it off with her. She cried, supposedly heartbroken but he did not care. In the months following, she tried to worm her way back into his life but he slammed the door shut, uncaring of how cruel he appeared to others. He fucked other women or had them give him blow jobs, never even taking the time to remove his leg braces or pants. They meant nothing. They were nothing.

But all that changed a month ago when a woman with blue-green eyes and a sweet innocence about her bumped into him…. and then confused the hell out of him when she kissed him.

"What's her name?" Floki asked, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette.

"Kari." He answered, probably sounding far softer than he meant to. After, he tilted his head to look at his surrogate father, brow furrowed. "How'd you find out?"

"The gods told me." At Ivar's unamused look, Floki giggled. "Your brothers. They said you have a new girlfriend."

"She's not."

"Mmmm?"

He sighed. "My girlfriend. She's made that very fucking clear. She keeps saying she can't be my girlfriend or she doesn't want to date right now. It's fucking infuriating!" He ripped the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it on the ground. "I don’t…. I don't fucking understand. She always says we're just friends, but I know she wants more. Sometimes I can see it when she looks at me. I don't know what to fucking do!"

"Why are you still wasting time on her then? She sounds like she doesn't care. Just move on from the bitch."

"Don't you fucking call her that! And she does care! More than most people." He snarled, fists trembling at his side. When Floki only smirked at him, Ivar rolled his eyes, anger slowly abating. He played into the old man's game easily.

Floki dropped his own half-used cigarette, eyeing Ivar curiously. "What is it about this girl?"

"She…. fuck…. she sees me. Not a cripple. Not some rich guy she can fuck and get stuff from. She sees... she sees me. Just me. Like you and mother. I don't….no one has looked at me like that. There's always a motive, always an angle. But not with her." The words rolled off his tongue, a dam unleashed, as if begging to have been finally uttered, to share his thoughts aloud to make sense of them. With Floki, he knew his thoughts were safe, that the man would never cruelly make fun of him.

"You really care about this girl."

Ivar did not answer, the truth already hung in the air as if painted in the sky for all to see.

Floki moved closer, wrapping his arm around Ivar's shoulder and pressing their foreheads together. "Give her time. The gods will tell you what to do. But for fuck's sake, stop stalking her. Hvitserk made sure to tell us how you showed up at her work and home unannounced."

Ivar chuckled, mirroring Floki's action. "Hvitty better keep his fucking hands off her."

"He will. He sees how important she is to you." Floki leaned back, that stupid grin on his face. "When do I get to meet her?"

"Why the hell do you think I'd let her meet your insane ass? She'd take one look at you and run away."

"She puts up with your stupidity. I'd be an improvement for her."

"Fuck off." Ivar laughed, throwing a mock punch at the man. "I've only known her for a month."

"But it feels longer, right?"

Ivar startled at the soft tone Floki used, like he knew exactly how Ivar felt. For once, he wondered if this was how Helga and Floki’s relationship felt. His tone was just as quiet, almost reverent as he answered. "Yeah."

"Don't do something stupid and lose her. Meet her where she is. Be her friend if that's what she wants. She seems good for you."

"Where is this wisdom coming from?" Ivar scoffed, running a hand over the braids on top of his head.

"I've always been wise, you just don't listen, pretentious asshole."

"No, it's Helga that's the wise one."

"My sweet Helga certainly is." Floki clapped a hand on Ivar's shoulder. "Come on, the meeting will be starting soon. I was sent to find your crippled ass."

"Why the fuck are we talking then?"

"I wanted to hear about this girl. From the sounds of it, you'll start waxing poetic sonnets about the poor girl soon and the gods will certainly…."

"Shut the fuck up."

Talking casually about the latest boat Floki was working on building back home in Norway, they headed towards the meeting room attached to Ragnar's office. The trip from the roof to the meeting room should have been quick but Ivar moved slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. He knew the whites of his eyes had an alarming shade of blue. He had seen it that morning when he looked in the mirror but even more so, he could feel it in his bones. It felt as if with one simple misstep, he would break a bone. The fragility of his body was never more evident than on these days.

He loathed it.

Thankfully, Floki made no comments about Ivar's eyes or his slow, measured gait. Instead he talked, making sure to hold doors open and continued in his loping walk as if they were on a leisurely stroll. He did comment about how nice Ivar's cane was and asked if he had used it on anyone recently.

The cane had been a gift from Floki three years ago for his birthday. It appeared to be an expensive cane made up of an ebony tapered shaft and sterling silver handle with a snarling wolf's head. What only a few knew was that if Ivar twisted the handle and pulled, a long, slender knife came out, the blade attached to the handle. Plus, the shaft of the cane was reinforced with a sturdy material, making it easily used as a blunt force object without fear of it bending or denting. Floki had said long ago that one should never be without a weapon, and the cane was his way of ensuring Ivar followed that sentiment.

The private meeting room of Ragnar was a spacious corner room with two walls made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, a dark hardwood flooring and deep green walls. A single slab wooden oak table was the centerpiece of the room, with cushioned chairs around it. Currently all those seats were filled besides two, signifying that Floki and Ivar were the last to arrive at the meeting.

Ragnar Lothbrok looked up as they entered the meeting room, appearing both suave and intimidating in his gray business suit and hair plaited. "Where have you two been?" He narrowed his piercing eyes at Floki. "I thought Helga wanted you to stop smoking."

"Your son is very convincing." Floki shrugged.

The patriarch's lips twitched in a suppressed smirk. He waved at the almost full table. "Sit. Let's get this started."

At the beginning of each month, Ragnar liked to meet with his sons and few trusted advisors to review the past month and discuss anything important in the future. It was his way of checking in with progress and making sure everyone was doing their jobs, while keeping all informed. Ivar typically found the meetings boring and a waste of time, but he made sure to attend them like a dutiful son.

In this particular meeting, Ragnar discussed how he would be meeting with Ecbert of Saxon Industries in a week, an impromptu decision but Ecbert had insisted of its necessity.

Ivar rolled his eyes but kept his thoughts to himself. He knew by the way Floki clenched and unclenched his fist on Ivar's left that he felt the same way. A glance at his brothers showed the two latecomers were not the only skeptical ones. Ecbert and Ragnar had a mutual respect for one another but it did not stop them from betraying and trying to sabotage each other's businesses when it pleased them. Aella, who ran the Northern part of Saxon Industries, made no qualms about showing his disdain for Ragnar and his family, labeling them nothing more than "power-mongering, bloodthirsty heathens who allowed their animalistic tendencies to rule them".

To say there was bad blood between Ragnar and his sons with Aella was an understatement.

Years prior, Saxon Industries had been the leader in imports and exports in the United Kingdom and Ireland but all that changed once Ragnar set his gaze upon those shores. Now, Ragnarssons Trading was the powerhouse of the United Kingdom, Scandinavia, and France, with that influence expanding even more as trade flourished around the Mediterranean.

Saxon Industries was forced to turn their ventures to North America, something that caused resentment from both Ecbert and Aella, even if Aella was the only one vocal about it.

Ivar personally thought they should just wipe out the competition, utterly destroy Saxon Industries until it held no hope of recovery. It would also send the perfect message to any who tried to compete against them in the future.

At the conclusion of the meeting, Ivar rose from his seat, still moving slower than normal. He could feel the tenderness in his muscles and bones. A silent threat to his body. The concerned looks from those around did not help. It only happened every few months now, but he still hated the pitying looks.

"Ivar, I need to speak with you." Ragnar announced, momentarily breaking off his conversation with Torstein and Sigurd at the head of the table. Ivar nodded his understanding. With a muted groan, he sat back down in the plush chair and pulled out his phone.

"Want me to wait for you?" Hvitserk asked, coming to his side.

"Nah, go ahead. I'll see you at home."

Hvitserk gently clapped him on the shoulder then leaned down to whisper smugly. "Tell Kari hello from me."

"Fuck off!" Ivar said, making his elder brother laugh as he walked out.

Speaking of, Ivar opened his phone to view the response from Kari to his previous message.

Kari: unbelievable.

For a second, he considered replying but closed out of the text. At this late hour, she would already be asleep due to how early she regularly woke up. Instead he decided to wait until the morning to reply.

Soon enough, everyone trickled out of the meeting room leaving him alone with his father. Once it was just the two of them, Ivar watched as the confident, composed expression typical on his father's face slid away to reveal something more haggard. He straightened in his chair when his father walked across the room and pointedly closed and locked the doors before taking the seat next to him.

Ragnar rubbed a hand down his face, gazing out the open window before them. A sudden falling star streaked across the sky, momentarily distracting Ivar from his impatience, which thudded in his chest like a drum, growing louder and louder each moment his father kept them locked in silence.

"What I'm going to tell you does not leave this room. If you have any questions, you come to me directly. Understood?"

Turning his head to eye his father with intrigue, Ivar nodded. "Understood."

Only after that did Ragnar shift to meet Ivar's intense blue eyes with his own. "Our security system caught an email being sent out which contained an itemized list of some shipments we will be sending next month to our friends in Finland."

Ivar's eyebrows rose. About ninety percent of Ragnarssons Trading was legal, something his father was very proud of considering how the company started. That hidden ten percent, it allowed them to stay connected to the black market and underground trading, to know things before they happened. Most recently they had made contact with a new buyer from Finland who had an affinity for certain illegal weapons.

Ragnar leaned forward, rubbing a hand over his mouth before continuing as if it pained him to utter the words. "It seems the damn email was supposed to be encrypted but somehow never fully transitioned, leaving half of it legible. We know it was sent from this building."

"Do you know who the recipient was?"

"The Russian mafia in Thailand."

Ivar sharply inhaled, his mind furiously working on the implications, plus what their next steps should be. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to find out who the fuck is selling us out. By any means necessary….and I want to burn them alive."

A sinister grin grew on Ivar's face, matching the one on his father's.

"Consider it done."

"Good." Ragnar absent-mindedly tapped the table with his fist. "This is your main priority but completely confidential, not even a word to your brothers."

"You think it's one of them?"

"No, but we don't know who is close to them that it might be." Ragnar reassured.

Ivar rubbed a hand over his mouth as he thought, eyes drifting to the window. "I'll trace from my office. If the need arises, I'll go to Norway with Mother."

"Good. You've never failed me. I know you won't in this."

Ivar's heart swelled at the praise, something he rarely received from his ambitious and frequently absent father, especially during his childhood.

After a long moment, Ragnar reclined back in his chair, a small smirk on his face. "Your eyes are blue."

"They are always blue, courtesy of your genetics." Ivar retorted harshly, already knowing where this was going.

"You know what I mean, Ivar." His father flatly stated. "If you break something, your mother will be breathing down both of our necks."

"I'm not a fucking child, I can take care of myself."

Ragnar hummed, seeming amused by his son's antagonized state. "Don't come into the office tomorrow."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want to."

"Start whatever you want, but for gods' sake, stay in bed where you can rest. If I get a call that you're in the damn hospital with a broken bone, I'll break something else on you." He threatened, pointing a finger at his son.

Ivar sneered, "Mother will skin you alive."

Ragnar chuckled darkly, leaning back once again. "No, her style would be to sabotage me somehow. Now get out of here. Your brothers planned on going out for drinks tonight, are you going to join them?"

He opened his mouth to answer when an impulsive idea latched itself in his mind. "No…." He answered slowly, a wicked smirk curled on his lips. "I think I'm going to bed."

"Alright."

Ivar rose, leaning on his cane. After taking a few steps away, he turned back to see his father watching him curiously. "Doesn't mean it's going to be my bed."

With that, he walked out of the meeting room to the sound of Ragnar laughing loudly behind him.

*****

He closed the bedroom door silently behind him, pleased with how the house remained quiet as he moved about. It was nearing two in the morning and the last thing he wanted was the police called with the neighbors thinking he was a burglar or something ridiculous.

Gently, he leaned his cane against the wall then proceeded to slip his shoes and shirt off. He dropped them on the floor, overly aware of any noise he made. Carefully, he maneuvered to the side of the bed, feeling very much like a thief in the night though he ignored it, and eased his legs out of his braces, setting them on the ground. Next, he slid under the rumpled covers, pleased when the bed's other occupant did not wake. His heart pounded in his chest though it did not deter his actions, if anything the forbidden feel spurred him on. Laying on his side, he placed his arm around her. Cautious of his body, he scooted closer to her until his chest was to her back. Before he could fully relax, she began to stir.

"Mmmm?"

He tenderly placed a kiss on the back of her neck before murmuring. "Shhh, go to sleep."

"Ivar?" Kari asked sleepily, her body tensing under his touch.

"Yes. Go back to sleep."

At his words, she twisted in his arms to face him, his arm still over her waist comfortably. He could hear the sleep fading from her voice. "What? What are you doing here?"

"Trying to sleep." He answered coolly, a flash of irritation shooting through him. Why was she questioning him? All he wanted to do right now was sleep with her in his arms. The increasing pain in his traitorous body made him want to lash out. To demand she shut up and let them sleep. He bit his tongue before the venom could erupt. Logically he knew his presence was unexpected and surprising at this hour, but he had hoped she would be more excited to see him.

"That…. what? How did you get into my house?" She demanded, trying to wriggle out of his hold but to no avail.

"I have a key."

That easy statement made her freeze. "You have a key…." She slowly repeated. After a moment, she sighed, relaxing back into his embrace. "You know what, I'm too tired. We'll talk about that fact in the morning. Why are you here though?"

Maybe it was the darkness surrounding them or the enticing sleepy voice of hers, either way he found himself answering honestly…. a bit too honestly. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he quietly confessed. "I missed you….and I don't want to be alone."

They laid there for several seconds in a tense silence. Even though she did not pull away from him, he could practically feel her over-thinking. If she told him to leave right now, he wondered if his dark heart would splinter. Over the past month she had become so vitally important to him. When he first met her, his interest had been fueled by lust plus the mystery and innocent aura around her. He wanted her. Now though, it had moved beyond want. It was a need. As much as he needed air to breathe, his mind and body coveted her. She somehow slipped past his guarded heart to entangle herself in his very core. Her presence soothed the violence that controlled his mind, she gentled his rage. She cared about him, not because of who or what he was, like everyone else. No, she cared about him as his own person, as simply Ivar.

Finally, she spoke in a resigned whisper. "Fine. Go to sleep, Ivar."

"I was trying to but someone kept asking me questions." He quipped, in hopes to hide the joy and relief in his voice.

She grumbled, then turned over and tried to move away from him but he was not going to have that. Not now. Not where he wanted her to be after so long. Where she deserved to be. With the arm around her waist, he pulled himself against her until they were spooning. At first, she attempted to fight him, squirming away, but after a few moments she surrendered. A barely suppressed chuckle escaped him, as he tightened his hold on her. She felt so perfect in his arms, like the gods created her to fit flawlessly against him, two puzzle pieces that finally found their match. He pressed his face into her hair, nuzzling into her. His elation only increased when her fingers intertwined with his that were splayed just under her breasts. A fond smile danced on his lips at her acceptance.

Within moments, he felt her go limp against him, sleep consuming her one again. He lightly kissed the back of her neck, pleased when he thought he heard a content hum come from her at the action.

Knowing his kitten, there would be hell to pay come morning, but for now, he needed this. Her body against his, to feel her heartbeat, to know she was safe. It was something that was no longer optional. He felt a man possessed, bewitched. Everything about her cast him under her spell- her beauty, her friendship, her tenderness towards him, the silly ways she made him laugh, and how she stood up for him. She was his. His responsibility. His devotion. His peace. His kitten. His alone.

"God natt, min skatt." He whispered against her skin. (Good night, my treasure)

It did not take long for him to follow her into sleep, more at peace in this moment than he had been for in years.

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slutsofren · 3 years

Text

Danger Days Chapter 8: Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back

summary: finding shelter in an abandoned home, you try to keep your wits about you and care for the still unconscious Joel until some trouble comes knocking

word count: 3,792

content warnings: mention of gore and impromptu medical care, more canon-typical violence, death, murder, arrival of.... cannibals, y'know the deal hurt/comfort

notes: i didn't mention it last time but yeah, your shit really can kill you if you get your lower intestines punctured lol it's a real thing and gnarly af

read on ao3 / masterlist

You woke up in a start. Heavy breaths taking hold in your lungs. The small, barely considerable amounts of sleep were getting to you as they had been for the last month as more and more night terrors racked your brain. Rubbing at your eyes, you pushed yourself up to begin your usual routine.

It had been a couple weeks since your little group found yet another abandoned home and it took some hell of maneuvering to get Joel into the basement but it worked. The winter snow was coming in full force and it was peritive you all kept Joel as warm as possible, there were too many odds stacked against him.

Walking over to his prone body, you checked on his wounds once more as you did practically every couple of hours. He was looking worse for wear, even changing out the gauze could only do so much. Whatever small amounts of clean water the three of you had went to cleaning it out, hoping to stave off the infection.

Joel was, by all means, not doing well.

To top it off, even with your meager amount of medic training from your days with FEDRA could never prepare you for the long-term haul you were in with Joel, he was dying. The bastard was dying and you couldn’t help but feel it was your fault.

Night after night you were haunted by the image of him falling off that balcony, the sounds of his groans of pain still lingered in your head even when you were awake. It fucking sucked.

He was asleep now, he barely woke up since everything went to shit at the university then at the mall. That in and of itself felt like a lifetime ago. You put a hand against his forehead, feeling how his fever still hadn’t broken. With the chill in the air as winter was fully settling in making your fingers cold as ice, he didn’t even flinch away. You closed your eyes and sighed, still not wanting to give up. Not for Ellie, not for Tommy, not even for the grumpy man himself.

A quick glance out the small basement window told you it was nearing dusk which startled you. Ellie had left when the sun was at its peak, sometime around noon, surely. She had been gone much much longer than she normally would have.

Usually it was you who left to go hunting for food once your supplies dwindled but Ellie wanted to help relieve the burden from your shoulders and you reluctantly agreed. Yo hated to admit you needed a break. She had argued she wanted to get better with her bow and arrow and she certainly did, often bringing back animals of various sizes. It was her way of coping with potentially losing Joel, something she confided in you that was one of her biggest fears.

Thoughts of Ellie swirled your mind and you paced back and forth, chewing at your fingernails. A nasty habit you suppressed most days. A part of you wanted to go find the girl, follow Callus’ tracks in the snow. Another part of you didn’t want to leave Joel by himself.

Fuck, you thought.

Compartmentalizing you figured if she didn’t return within an hour, you’d go looking for her. If you couldn’t locate her within a mile radius, a strict rule you enforced her limited hunting zone to, you’d hunker down with Joel and wait until morning to find her and scold her for being irresponsible.

You stopped your pacing to look at Joel’s face, seeing how his face was still warped in the painful scowl he hadn’t let go of. His features were beginning to slowly become gaunt as the small amounts of food you’d been able to get him to eat the rare times a day he’d wake were coming far and few in between. Even his usual tan skin was slowly softening to a cooler shade of bronze. He looked like death.

Joel, by all means, was a handsome cowboy. Even with his patchy beard that was littered with grey hair in a few spots. Now he just looked like a ghost of himself.

Okay, fine, you admit to yourself. With Joel down, you’ve kind of missed the fool. You missed the banter and arguing with him about stupid shit. He irritated the daylights out of you because he always wanted to jump headfirst into things without a care for his safety clearly but dammit, the lack of his presence was palpable. You hated it.

You sat beside Joel, removing one of his hands from under the blanket to hold. His hands still rough and calloused, mirrors of yours if you weren’t missing a finger. Once upon a time, you remembered hearing that coma patients could sometimes hear what people said to them, that it helped. Maybe talking to him now would help not just him but you as well, to keep your mind occupied. Maybe pass the time a little. Maybe.

“Hey, it’s me, you grumpy bastard,” you started off lightly. “I don’t know if you can tell but you’ve been puttin’ that girl and I through hell and back trying to keep your ass alive.”

A hollow laugh escapes you, feeling a little more choked up than you’d ever dare to admit. Composing yourself you tried to use playful banter. “How do you do it, cowboy? Ellie is a goddamned handful. Shit, I thought I was bad when I was a teenager,” you sniff, feeling your voice waver.

“When I first laid eyes on you two, I think it would have saved me a whole lotta trouble and pain if Maria let me shoot you,” you sigh dramatically. Even though there was a smile on your lips, it didn’t reach your eyes. What did were the tears that were slowly forming. The added stress of Ellie being missing was really wearing you thin.

Amongst other things.

“Y’know,” you sniffled, “you really hurt my feelings back at the university. When you thought I led the two of you into a trap.” You took a sharp inhale. “As much shit as you and I put each other through, that was the one thing that stung. More than anything.”

You squeezed his hand and sighed, closing your eyes. Admitting that was hard, stars know you’d never say that to Joel while he was conscious nor in front of Ellie.

“Don’t die, you asshole,” you begged softly, wiping away the light tears that coated your lashes, reluctantly letting go of Joel’s hand as you tucked the blanket around him tightly.

After you said your piece, your mind became overrun with the little turd you grew fond of. The more you began to worry about Ellie, the more your thoughts swirled rapidly into worst case scenarios.

Before you worked yourself into a much deeper frenzy, a loud metallic bang echoed from upstairs. You ran up the steps and came face to face with Ellie, looking just as frantic. She raised her hand and in it, a tied white rabbit, so white it was nearly silver in the dim lighting. “I got food,” she said breathlessly.

“And,” she shoved you aside and took off to the basement, “I got this. Can it help?”

Ellie reached into her pocket and pulled out a syringe and orange bottle, she handed it to you while kneeling next to Joel as he shifted in his sleep. You were still rather shocked to see Ellie who looked faintly bloodied and tired, before you could comment on the new rifle on her shoulder, you took the bottle and were damn near milliseconds from riding into her until you read the faded label of the glass container.

Penicillin.

“Where the fuck did you get this, Ellie?”

Without waiting for her to answer, you dug in your pack and pulled out some disinfectant alcohol and a gauze pad to clean the syringe and a spot on Joel’s arm. Ellie refused to look up from where she kept her gaze focused on Joel’s face, “‘s not important.”

“If I wasn’t so mad at you right now, I’d kiss you.”

Throwing away all the questions you had for her, you administered the antibiotic as quickly as you could, he sighed as the medicine entered his body. Although, it was likely you were giving him too much, truthfully, you didn’t think it would hurt him worse than he already was.

As he relaxed underneath your hands, you looked down at his wound one last time for the evening. The haphazard stitches were taut on his stomach where the swelling was, hopefully by morning, he’d be better.

You didn’t look up from Joel as you laid into Ellie, “I don’t want excuses about where you were, only that you promise me to be more careful in the future, please.”

“Ye- yeah, I promise.”

“Good,” you covered Joel back up, “Now go get some rest. I’ll take care of the rabbit and wake you when it’s done.”

You turned your back to Ellie, it wasn’t that you wanted her to feel bad for her little disappearing act. You just needed some space to gather your thoughts. Between being Joel’s caretaker, Ellie’s temporary guardian, and keeping yourself sane, you were a wreck. You needed a moment.

Before you took a step on the stairs you paused. “Good work on getting the medicine, kiddo. Joel would be proud of you too.”

She didn’t respond as you walked away, the implication that although you were upset with her, you were still proud lingered in the air. Mindlessly, you focused on the rabbit, doing what needs to be done to cook it for dinner, pushing away those lingering worries. Ellie was safe, you reminded yourself, she came back.

It didn’t take you long to finish with your meager dinner, still pretty damn proud of Ellie’s evolving hunting skills. Maybe you’d offer to teach her a couple snares in the morning to leave out overnight. Although they tended not to gain anything bigger than a rabbit or a squirrel, something was better than nothing and you’d figure it would help Ellie focus on something other than Joel’s condition.

You bounded down the stairs, bringing the freshly cooked meat with you. A small shake to her shoulder and she was awake, “Dinner’s ready.”

Ellie didn’t bring her gaze up to look you in the eye, likely still ashamed. The two of you still sat in silence eating, occasionally looking to Joel for any changes or whenever he shifted in his sleep.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice sounding small.

“I know, Ellie. I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I was just worried.”

Once again, the silence encompassed you both like a blanket, warmer now than it was before. You broke it first, “I was thinking about teaching you a couple snares in the morning. How does that sound?”

Ellie wiped the grease from her fingers on her jeans and looked up, “I think I’d like that.”

Just like that, the two of you were on even footing. It didn’t feel right to be mad at each other, not when Joel wasn’t there to diffuse. Either way, it was much like when you were the one in between their own fight that day you’d met them, it wasn’t healthy when you all had to rely on each other for survival. At least with Ellie, she was quick to forgive and forget in the face of the larger picture. A quality you kind of admired in the young woman.

Both of you finished with your portions of the meat, saving the rest for the morning or for Joel if he wakes in the night. Simultaneously you shuffled through the remaining ammo together, doling out some spare bullets to Ellie for her shiny new rifle, still not going to ask how she acquired it. Let her have her space.

She took the bullets graciously, reloading her sidearm and long range weapons and placing them in her backpack before getting ready for sleep. You stayed fiddling with your own weapons for a few moments longer before calling it quits too.

You laid down on the opposite side of Joel, biting your lip and hoping for the best. You tossed and turned, not knowing if you could take facing Joel’s sickly frame but you also couldn’t turn your back on him and Ellie who laid on her backpack on his other side.

Please, you wished, let the medicine take.

These kinds of wishes filled your mind until you slowly drifted to a fitful night’s sleep.

By morning, you happened to find yourself shaken awake with Ellie’s face close to yours, “Wake up, I need you awake!”

You jumped up, onto your knees. “What is it,” you ask startled, afraid Joel was worse than he was when you fell asleep. Looking at Joel, he didn’t look like he deteriorated in the night, but he also didn’t look like he improved any.

“I was tracked,” she says as if that explains anything. Both of you have your hands on each other's arms in a failed attempt at communicating the other’s panic.

“What do you mean ‘tracked’, Ellie?”

“Those people I got the medicine from, David and-and James, they fucking tracked me!”

“Ellie, what the fu-.”

“Look, listen, I’m gonna draw them away. Keep an eye on Joel,” she tells you in a rush, letting go of you and bolting up the stairs, grabbing her backpack on the way out.

“Fuck,” you practically shout while getting up and looking out the window. Outside you see silhouettes of a few men, searching the nearby area. Frustrated, you kick the washing machine.

Shit, shit, shit.

You don’t know what to do, you feel tied down once again because of Joel’s condition and Ellie’s neverending saviour complex. You mumble out a few more expletives at this situation just as you see the girl bound down the street on Callus shouting for the intruder’s attention. As she rides away, you hear bullets being shot at her, getting further and further away from you.

You carelessly threw your denim coat on and opted to grab your knives instead of guns, hoping to kill anybody who came close without alerting the others. Out the basement window, you could see a few of the men still lurking about, choosing not to follow Ellie.

Just before you followed Ellie out of the house, you doubled back to Joel, kneeling forward and giving him a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll come back, I promise you Joel. Just please, don’t die on me now.” Another kiss on his warm skin and you left without stopping, barricading the basement door as if it was left unoccupied.

Everything in you wanted to panic, your muscles were screaming to fold in on yourself and heave what little food remained in your stomach but you couldn’t give in. Not when Ellie was in danger. She may have been a pain in the ass, but she was your pain in the ass.

After your conversation last night, you’d be damned if anybody hurts your girl.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your worries free and cleared your mind. Although you were a field medic by title with FEDRA back in the day, working with them turned you into a killer. It was a toxic mindset for you, even when you had joined the Fireflies, they took advantage of your ability to focus on one thing and one thing only, turning it into their own game - death.

It took years to shake off that blank emotionless part of you, even Tommy was afraid of it when he saw the horrendous things you were capable of, what the Fireflies exploited from you, but Tommy wasn’t here and the people you loved were hanging on by a thread.

It was easy to see the outlines of the few straggling men who searched the nearby homes, whatever Ellie did really pissed them off. Now, these people only pissed you off.

You stayed lurking within the shadows of the homes, even with the sun just getting ready to set, it wasn’t too difficult to stay hidden. Especially to those who weren’t familiar with the layout. It was easy to spot how the few men tended to remain within a handful of yards together, opting not to venture out into the buildings alone. Alert and yet unorganized as you could see how they would often turn their backs on each other, giving you such a delicious opportunity to sneak in and out, weaving through them and taking them down one by one.

Was it absolutely horrible this was your instinct? Maybe. But you had two people you wanted to protect, two absolutely annoying yet selfless humans who gave you hope. You did love Joel and Ellie, even if you hadn’t admitted to it yet. Besides, you had a whole lot of stress burdening your shoulders and you wanna hit something.

You watched as the small group approached one of the homes off to the left, allowing you ample room to get close without having to cross the street in the open. You took off running, not bothering to try and conceal your footprints in the snow as you got to the house besides the targets. You entered through a broken window - a common for every single house on this block. Taking lighter footsteps, you ducked by the windows and reached the second floor landing.

The homes in this area were built within close proximity to the others, making it easy for, say, somebody needing to jump between windows without being seen. Perfect.

You listened hard and close as the men shuffled and tossed things around the first floor, looking for any sign of Ellie and ‘those two people she was with’. You growled lowly, really hating the implication that these people knew about the three of you.

Taking another assessment, you noticed there were two men standing guard out the front of the house, idly walking to-and-fro, their conversation remaining on wishing they were chasing Ellie instead.

A deep breath in and you jumped with an ‘oof’, trying to make as little as noise as possible, aiming for a wide open window with a snow covered bed on the other side. Between the snow and the mattress, the noise was cushioned to only a small thud, thankfully concealed by the thuds of the men downstairs shuffling through rooms. You quickly got up and went to the doorframe and saw there was only a hallway and stairs leading down.

You took deeper breaths again, trying to center yourself for what you were about to do as you heard one person come up the stairs - alone.

Placing your body flush against the wall, you waited in stark concentration, drawing your knife from its sheath. The footsteps came close, nearing the room you were hiding in and just as an armed gunman came in, you rushed him. Putting one hand against their forehead, you pulled the other hand and dragged the knife into their throat, essentially cutting off the person from making a noise and ending their life. You pulled and lowered their body as they began to choke out, laying them on the floor gently against the wall, carelessly hiding the body.

Downstairs you could still hear shuffling of the other invader and you made your way to them, silently assessing.

From what you could tell, the other person was banging around in the basement. So you rounded a nearby corner to where the open basement door was until finally, finally, somebody came through. You took him down just the same as his buddy.

So unorganized, you thought. If they were really looking for you and Joel, they were doing a piss poor job of it.

You swiped a bottle from the kitchen as you strolled past, taking aim out a broken window. Giving it a nice little toss, it shattered against the other house and without fail, you heard the tell-tale signs of one of the other men asking ‘what was that’. You ducked behind the faded curtain until one of the targets came into view, watching how he was pensive and alert, fortunately he was by himself which made the next part just as easy.

As soon as the man walked by the window, you jumped out from your hiding spot and jabbed your hunting knife straight into the soft squishy part of his eye, surprisingly facing little to no resistance.

You pulled it back and repeated the motion again once the man made an audible noise, probably alerting his friend. In only a slight rush now, you jumped out the window and removed your blade, now stalking towards the front when you could hear the other man yell the other’s names.

Wrapping around the corner of a house in a whirlwind, you surprised the last one when you stood face-to-face with him. He looked at you, astounded, mouth agape and dropped his weapon - a handgun. Looking down at his body, he whimpered as he took in the sight of your knife now buried deep in his stomach as you yanked them up into his chest piercing his heart.

Copper scent filled the air as the hunter’s body gave out. His blood spilling down your front. Under normal circumstances you would’ve likely vomited all over yourself but considering the innate need to protect Ellie and Joel, all that shit is blown out the window.

All in all, maybe thirty minutes have passed, you wanted to check on Joel but the distant gunshots were making you worried. At the very least, the longer they went off, the longer you knew your little fighter was alive.

Okay, think, you tried to get yourself to focus. You came up with a rapid-fire plan and before you could second guess yourself, you ran. Refusing to stop. Each step in the plush snow found you closer and closer to your hideout.

Entering the home through the garage, you gave Whiskey a pat as you walked on by and headed straight for the basement. You pushed the undisturbed barricade from the door, grateful it signaled that Joel was safe. Entering the downtrodden room you grabbed your holsters, strapping them maybe a little more tightly than you should’ve and throwing your backpack over your shoulders. You double-checked your weapons, making sure they were fully loaded.

Once again, you kneeled next to Joel as he laid on the dirty mattress, huffing from the rising pain from the stitch in your side. “Joel? I’m gonna go back out and find Ellie. I’m gonna go get our girl,” you said.

You hoped you were telling the truth.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x oc #joel tlou x reader #joel tlou x you #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfic #joel tlou reader insert #the last of us reader insert #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #danger days fic #asher's writing

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getitinbusan · 3 years

Text

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love?

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words: 4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up.

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money.

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity.

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life?

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free.

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day.

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer.

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.”

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent.

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways.

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members. He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed. Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret.

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever."

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him.

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later.

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door.

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna?

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together.

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him.

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it.

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never.

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. "

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them.

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue.

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath.

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself.

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever.

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom.

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished.

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting.

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan.

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again.

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do?

Picking up a pen you began writing…

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn…

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world.

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror. Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you."

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light,

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #Jeongguk #jungkook x reader #kookie #nochu #10 years with jungkook #california #lana del rey

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years

Text

how to mend a broken heart: step one - rafe cameron

Breaking Rafe Cameron’s bones didn’t work, but your plan to break his heart did. You falling for him too and having your heart shatter as collateral was an unexpected side effect. Ever the schemer, JJ’s come up with a new five step plan to mend what was broken.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use

word count: 2.5k

a/n: and here’s step one, listen to the part two playlist on the series masterlist for maximum effect :). please please please leave us feedback, freya and i read every comment and cry, love you guys so much!!

“This is ridiculous, Pope,” you pouted, arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against him on John B’s sofa. You were pointedly ignoring JJ, equal parts furious for his part in your heartbreak and frustrated that he had tried to kiss you. The you of only a few months ago would have probably died for JJ to confess, the thought of pressing your lips together used to make you dizzy. Now, you were angry, and annoyed, and sad, and you wanted nothing more than to return to under the comforter where you had made your home for the past week as you cried.

“I have to agree,” Kie piped up from her spot at the kitchen table, “two weeks ago we were plotting to break his heart and now you want us to believe you’re interested in fixing things?”

“Look,” JJ started, screwing his eyes closed for a split second to gather his thoughts, “I don’t give a flying fuck about Rafe Cameron, but I care about you, y/n. You’re my best friend and I hate how the last plan panned out, but I want to make it up to you.” His eyes were focused on you, ignoring the other pogues staring at him.

Your lip wobbled as you avoided his stare, “You made it pretty clear how you felt about me on that beach, JJ.”

JJ sucked in a deep breath, looking at Pope for some silent advice but his friend gave him a doubtful look. He glanced at you again, noting your legs curling into your chest and how your eyes were raw and puffed. He hated that it was his fault that you were like this. “y/n,” JJ sighed, he closed the space between your bodies, kneeling down on the floor in front of you and gathering your hands in his larger ones, “You know me, you know me more than anyone in this room. You know I’m a little bit stupid, that I don’t think everything through, that I’m a liability sometimes..”

“And the rest,” Kie chimed in, but closed her lips when JJ shot an annoyed glare in her direction.

“You’re not stupid,” slipped out before you could stop it, years of reassuring the volatile blond before you having conditioned you to respond, “but you hurt me, and then you used my feelings for you against me.”

“That’s not-” he sighed, stopping himself before he could run his mouth again, knowing that of all times, you would not be impressed with his impatience. He looked around at your friends again, “Look, we can talk about that night in more detail later, just know that I’ve actually thought this thing through and I want to help you. Even Pope thinks it’s not a terrible idea.”

You turned to look at Pope sitting beside you, expecting him to deny JJ’s claim, but Pope nodded slightly in acknowledgement, causing you to sigh. “Alright, hit me.”

JJ smiled, crooked teeth on display, before letting go of your hands to get up and cross over to the forgotten chalkboard, spinning it around to reveal his five-step plan to mend your broken heart. You rolled your eyes at the childish doodles around the list, including but not limited to several broken hearts, one of which had a bandaid closing the gap between the two halves. You scanned the five steps he outlined, confused by what was written. You were about to question the last step, when he dramatically stepped forward, holding his arms wide open.

“Step one: tell the truth, see it through.”

You were standing outside on the back porch, leaning against the railing like you had so many weeks ago when the first plan had begun. JJ was leaning on the railing beside you, and the silence was starting to drive you mad.

“So,” you stated simply, eyes scanning the horizon. There was a light breeze that rustled your hair around your shoulders and JJ found himself looking at your side profile as you looked out.

“So,” he repeated uselessly, fidgeting with his hands.

“You said we could talk about that night in detail later, well it’s later and you need to start talking,” you told him.

He sighed, uncomfortably shifting his weight from his left foot to his right and back, “I didn’t tell you I love you just because of what we have, i-it’s different. You read all those shitty online stories about best friends becoming lovers and it comes with so much complications-”

“And I’m not worth that?” you ask, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” JJ spluttered out, “My mom left, my dad’s… well you know about that, and fuck, y/n, you’re all I have left. If it didn’t work out and I lost you…”

“Well, look how that turned out,” you snapped, “you nearly lost me anyway.”

“Nearly?” He asked, the slight lilt of hope shining through his voice.

You looked up, eyes rolled to the sky, “you’re my best friend, J, and I don’t want to lose you anymore than you want to lose me.” A smile tugged at the corner of JJ’s lips, but you raised your hand to stop him from grinning, “I’m not saying I forgive you for what you did, what I’m saying is that I’m not going to let Rafe Cameron come between us, no matter how I feel about him.”

“Okay…” JJ trailed off.

“And that goes both ways. If we’re doing this, you can’t argue with me over my feelings for him anymore. I’m telling you now, I love Rafe a-and if this works, I’m going to be with him.”

JJ tried to hide the grimace that graced his face but he failed miserably, making you groan in annoyance. “No, y/n, I promise. I’ll try, I’ll try my god damn hardest if it means I still have you in my life because I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t in it.”

“You’d probably be stuck in jail.” You giggled, and JJ lit up at the sound. He hadn’t heard you laugh in at least a week, if not longer and it filled the hole in his chest a little.

“Probably,” he shrugged, offering his hand to you with the intention of starting your secret handshake, but you pulled on his arm and pulled him in for a brief hug.

“I haven’t forgiven you yet,” you told him sternly as you pulled away, poking his chest, “you’re going to have to earn it.”

“Noted.”

Finding Rafe was easy.

It was nearing sundown and you had a strong feeling you knew exactly where he would be. There was something soothing, calming, about watching the sun set over the cliffedge where he had confided in you about his mom. You spotted him when you pulled up, sitting on the hood of his truck. The fading sunlight cast a glow against his face that had you shielding your eyes as you approached. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him for the first time in a week. You had gone from seeing him every day, wrapped in his arms to nothing, not even a cursory text or notification.

Getting Rafe to hear you out was harder.

The utter look of betrayal that mirrored his expression only a week ago greeted you when he turned around. You felt your heart clench at the knowledge that your actions were responsible for such loathing in his eyes. That you had been the one to hurt him and cause him pain. You hadn’t seen him look this devastated since that day that you had sat on his lap and held his face in your hands as he shared the most traumatic event of his life with you. Without realizing, your eyes had filled with tears, the tip of your nose burning at the sensation.

“What are you doing here?” he asked harshly, “I thought I told you to never speak to me again.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head up to keep the tears from spilling, “I know, I just. I wanted to tell you the truth, all of it.” You want to explain to him, really explain to him, until he understands that while it had started out with poor intentions you had really fallen in love with him. That he owned your entire heart, held it in his hands, and controlled its fate.

“JJ painted a pretty accurate portrait of it all, I think.” He replied, tone still unpleasant. Your stomach dropped, you knew he would be upset and angry, but a small part of you had hoped he would be open to listening to you.

“Just hear me out, please listen to me. You can tell me to fuck off after I’m done, and I’ll leave you alone.” You say, completely genuine. If he really wanted nothing to do with you, you would respect that. It would hurt like hell, but you would understand. You could only imagine if the roles had been reversed, if Topper or Kelce had cornered you and told you the entire thing had just been some bet to break your heart.

When Rafe didn’t reply, you slowly closed the gap between you, lifting yourself up onto his truck, you felt him stiffen beside you and let out an exhale of annoyance. “You know what, y/n? I can’t even look at you right now.”

“I-I understand that, Rafe, but this week has been one of, if not, the worst week of my life-”

Rafe scoffed, cutting you off, and his hands balled into fists on his lap. “You don’t have the right to shove that in my face, I fell in love with a girl that was playing me. I thought you were different but you’re exactly like those other pogues. You’re no better than who you thought I was.” You feel the white hot guilt spread across your body uncomfortably as you consider his words. When this had all started, you never thought you would succeed at actually breaking his heart, didn’t really even consider that he had one. More importantly, you never thought you would succeed at crushing your own heart in the process.

“What I did, what we did as a group, was wrong and I know that now but I got so caught up in the whole island feud that I wasn’t thinking right,” you sighed, “I never thought I’d get you to fall in love with me, I thought it was something I’d do for a week and then give up, but-”

“But you succeeded.” He states simply, arms crossed as he cuts off your rambling.

“But I fell in love with you, Rafe. The whole thing backfired, and I ended up breaking my own heart in the process.” You can hear the desperation taking over your tone of voice, recognizing his closed off body language as an indication that this conversation was about to be over before it had really begun.

“That’s really great, y/n, thanks for the insight.” Rafe retorted, rolling his eyes and jumping from the bonnet. His tone was raw and hateful, and it felt like a knife pushing through your chest as he walked away from you, again.

You followed him, protesting for him to stop but he wasn’t listening. He opened the driver’s door, and you mustered up the courage to slam it shut with all your force, making him swing his head to look at you bewildered. Tears were brimming in the corner of his eyes, his chest heaving heavily with every breath he took. “What more do you want from me, y/n? I listened, I processed, and the only thing I got from that was that you didn’t even apologize for what you did!”

Watching the tears slide down his cheeks made you speechless, you did truly break his heart. “I-I thought…” You mumbled, and he shook his head in disappointment.

“I thought you were different, you did a great job playing someone you’re not.” He’s looking at you and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time and doesn’t like what is in front of him. You shrink a little under his heated gaze, so similar to that first night you spent together but yet millions of miles of distance between then and now.

“Rafe, you don’t understand. When I was with you, that was the real me. Yo-you fell in love with me,” you whispered, taking a step closer to him and reaching for his hand but he pulled it away. “Just know, that every moment we spent together, I fell deeper in love with you.”

Rafe Cameron has never been loved before. No one has ever told him how much they loved him for who he was. His own family found it an effort to love him, and looking at you right now, declaring your love for him with tears streaming down your cheeks, he couldn’t help but think that maybe not being loved was a good thing. You never had to deal with the heartache and unexpected complications that came to giving yourself to someone. The only time he experienced true love was when you were lying underneath him, the softest smile on your face and you kissed the palm of his hand, in that moment, he felt on top of the world. But his world came shattering down when JJ Maybank found him that day. He wasn’t sure if he could survive another heartbreak.

“Have a good life, y/l/n,” he muttered without sparing you another glance, successfully navigating his way into the driver side of his vehicle as you stood uselessly beside it, tears falling from your eyes.

You stood there watching as he drove away, not moving from your spot until the truck had turned the corner, disappearing from your sight entirely. Rubbing away at your eyes and at the tear tracks on your cheeks, you were despondent at the prospect of Rafe Cameron never forgiving you and having walked out of your life for good this time. Fuck this plan, fuck the other plan, you thought angrily to yourself, walking back to your car. And especially fuck JJ Maybank, as you drove away from the cliffside that had meant so much to you. You found yourself wishing, not for the first time and likely not for the last time, that you had listened to Pope in the first place and never gone through with the stupid bet in the first place. Sure you would have never known Rafe’s love, but you also would have never known this heartbreak.

htbah taglist (link in the series masterlist!!):

@solllaris @drewswannabegirl @starrystarkey93 @httpstarkey @sweetlysilent @drewstarkey @dontjinx-it @ultranikilove @spencereidbasis @meaganjm @starlightstarkey @thortheestallion @jiaraendgame @idocarealot @tempestuousjj @pink-meringues @dpaccione @arianabrashierstuff @softstarkey @loveylangdon @xenagzb @teenwaywardasgardian @prejudic3 @nxsmss @canibeoneofthepogues @outerbanksbro @obx-direction-sos @nqbmf @digniteas @annedub @colorful-queen-of-the-roses @yesp0ny @loveniallandharryonedirection @fantasticpsychicfanfish @girls-breaking-hearts @beautyandthebleh @casper17 @mozz-are-lla @parkershoco @unfortunatekiwitrash @loverofmineluke @slutforjjmaybank @skiesofthesketchy @httpstarkey @sugarcoatedcalum @amorisxx @trinnwazheree @stargazingstarkey @obx-saltlife @juliarose21 @hyperactive2411 @mcarignan @feyrecauldron-blessed @sportygal55 @popcrone818 @wtfkie @raekenliar @letsgotothehop @walkingtothesun @outerbanksbro @summerkaulitz @glux64 @itslilithsstuff @kaitieskidmore1 @mycowatemyhw @poguepunk @routledgebaby @teenwolfobx @pancakefancake @princessnnylzays @onlygetaway @hoodpankow @shawnswife2004 @glittercoveredsouls @fangirlvoice

rodeo rafe babies who said they were interested:

@royalmerchant @outerbankslut @honeyycheek @jellyfishbeansontoast @ilovejjmaybank @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @https-luna @butgilinsky @rae131415

diverdcwn everything taglist:

@velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @sunwardsss @rudyypankow @im-a-stranger-thing @alexa-playafricabytoto @hoodpankow @sortagaysortahigh @socialwriter @euphoricheyward @anxietyandtacos @diverrdown @stargazingstarkey @rafej-cambanks @stfukie

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron series #freyby writes #diverdcwn writes #htmabh

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