#and then the second and third i didn't reference shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baby-tini · 1 year ago

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Reader sees Dabi in an alley by accident and tries to get away quietly but Dabi sees her and brings her into the alley. He has her up the wall with a hand firmly around her neck but not chocking her but enough to threaten her. He asks for her personal info and takes pictures of her for reference just in case anything happens. And he looks at her more closely and he's like wow she's always more pretty. So he thinks for a bit and makes a deal you get out in one piece if you let me fuck you. The reader already knew he was giving her a false sense of choice so she agrees. Dabi likes her submissiveness so he gave her the choice of the location to fuck. And while she is thinking Dabi is already so handsy with her. Kissing her neck and running his hands up and down her body. He's like 'if you don't pick quick im fucking you here in the alley'. And she eventually picks a love hotel not too far from them. Once they were done fucking it's the next morning and Dabi is gone but she checks her phone messages and there's a lot of photos and videos of them together in different positions and a note at the end

See you next time Doll~

💙Dabi

(the blackmail really gets me fr😭)

TW: DUBCON, blackmail, noncon pictures and video taking, a hint of coercion. Work was always so boring, you wanted something fun. There was nothing fun about serving drunk men alcohol as they thanked you with raunchy comments. Trying to grope you while you were just doing your job. Complaining about their "bitch wife" in a drunken slur then passing out. The money was good though.. and your co-workers weren't awful. But that really didn't mean anything in the end.

It was too much, you just needed a cigarette and then you could finish your shift then go home and sleep the rest of the night away. It was warm outside, pretty too. Sky full of different shades of blue, no clouds in sight. It was quiet surprisingly, considering you weren't in the best part of town. The attacks from the League of Villains ramping up by tenfold, charred bodies appearing in multitudes. Consumed by beautiful azul flames licking away at ash. Some were lucky though, if you could even call it that, some people were burned so bad they were disfigured, leaving ugly third degree burns on their face and arms. Hopefully they weren't in this part of the city yet.

But then again, the heros were on their ass.. so it's possible. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh out, closing your eyes for a couple seconds before you hear footsteps. Your eyes snap open as your head snaps to the sound. There's a man in a black tattered coat, he looks exhausted. Purple burnt skin attached to healthy skin by staples. Tattered clothes with mangy boots.

Holy shit, it can't be... they shouldn't be in this part of the city, not this soon anyway. You have too get out, now. You try to be quiet, you really do, but you can't be quiet wearing heels. You mistook a step, catching the eye of the assailant. His piercing blue eyes shoot up towards you, a sick grin crawling up on his lips. As he walks closer, stumbling back you trip over your heels. He chuckles at you, grabbing your arms too lift you up, "easy there doll, what's your problem, hm? You scared?" You swallow down the dry air, shaking your head at him as you try to shake off his grip. But his hold on you just tightens, reminds you of a boa constrictor, trying too keep his prey at bay.

He presses you into the wall with an-unassuming amount of strength, pressing into you as he leans down towards your ear. "Where you goin, doll? I'm not gonna hurt you... if you comply that is." Squeezing your eyes shut, you nod into his chest, trying too control your breathing. You inhale deeply before stuttering out a response. "What did you, uh.. what did you want from me..?" There's a sniffle between your words.

"Mmm, yeah, need something real bad baby, think you can help me, hm?" You swallow down your spit, hesitantly nodding at him. "I- uh... I think, what did you need Sir.." He chuckles at that, running his nose up and down your cheek, inhaling deeply into your hair. "Sir, huh? You into that dolly?" You feel your fingers twitch against his tattered coat as you shake your head at him.

"N-no.. I just- I don't know your name..so," he leans back at that. Eyeing you up and down he grins, "that's cute baby, you really don't know who I am? That makes me a little sad honestly, but it's Dabi... I like Sir much better though, what do you think?" You swallow again, your right hand rubbing up and down your left arm, as your eyes look to the side. Rolling his eyes, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Nah ah, don't look away from me, I'm not done talking to you bitch." Licking your lips, you swallow before looking up at him again. "There you go, you gonna behave for? Gonna help me with my... big problem babydoll, hm? Say, "Yes Sir." Your left hand twitches before you nod up at him, "Yes Sir, i'll help you with your... big problem." He hums at you before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and smirking at you. "I knew you would, you're so good, huh? Gonna let you pick the location cause' you're being so sweet for me... go 'head." You sniffle before licking your lips and nodding again. He hums, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip. "I wanna... can we go to the love hotel.. it's only a couple blocks away.. I want my first time to be.. a little special." He grins, pulling you towards his side with an arm wrapped around you. "Ahh, little slut's a virgin, wouldn't 've guessed." You try to shuffle away at that but he just tightens his hold around you. "C'mon baby, I was just joking, I'll behave from now on, promise," he snickers. It take's a minute to get there, with Dabi trying to get there as quickly as possible... his problem continuously growing as you walk with him. The hotel is pretty run down, smelling of weed and sex. The painting is peeling from the walls as women and men alike are staggering around and theirs people making out just outside the hotel, grinding and sliding their hands down the others clothes. "This is where you wanted your special moment?" He raises an eyebrow at you as he throws a wad of bills on the check-in desk. You huff at him, "it's better then some sleazy alleyway, surrounded by heroin needles." You retort, grabbing the key from him and walking to the room. He follows closely behind not failing to be as touchy as possible while you open the door. He ushers you into the room as he pins you against the wall and getting to work marking up your neck.

You try to slow your heart rate as your hands ball in his shirt, with a hiss he grinds his cock into your thigh. Nipping at your collar bone and running his tongue over your jugular as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as you run your hands up his shirt. He chuckles into your neck, pulling your shirt over your head and sucking your nipples through your bra. He laughs against your chest when you let out a choked whimper, clawing at his stomach. He huffs before snapping your bra from the back and sucking nipple and playing with the other, pinching it and leaving hickeys between your tits. He grabs you by your hair, pulling you towards the bed and throwing on it face first. Your breasts flat against the rough-feeling mattress, as you try to get up, he pushes you back against it, a hand holding pressed into the curve of your lower back. "Nah ah, fucking stay.. don't need you IDing me now princess." You breathe out softly and nod into the sheets, your body relaxing against the bed while he pulls your pants and panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. You hear him groan from behind you, he runs a warm hand over your ass before slapping it a couple times and chucking when you squeeze your legs shut. "Dirty little bitch, you want it real bad, yeah? Yeah you fuckin' do, say please and I might fuck you with the tip bitch." You whine into the sheets, salty tears leaking down your cheeks and staining the sheets. He chuckles, taking a hand and pushing your head down into the mattress as his other hand unzips and takes off his pants, his boxers being pulled down in the process, he spreads your pussylips apart before leaning down and spitting on your clit, before fucking his tip into your cunt and groaning when he feels you tighten around him. Your pussy feels so good, warm and tight, just how he likes it. He fucks into you harder, using a hand to stabilize himself next to your head as he fucks into you harder. He's so big, you can feel him in your stomach, it hurts a little, stretching so wide to accommodate him as he growls in your ear. You're so deep into it, your head so fogged up that you don't hear the camera shutters or feel him spread you wide as he films the two of you locked together. He fucks you good, you'll give him that, you don't remember passing out as he fucked into you, waking up to your familiar ringtone of your phone as you sit up, breasts spilling over the blanket as you lean towards the bedside table... 'Dabi' left you a text, "I had a fun night doll, I know you did too.. or else you wouldn't 've passed out on my cock, It was good wasn't it, I know it was, don't worry you can tell me in person when I come see you again. You're the best pussy I've had in a while if I'm being honest. Pretty wet pussy too, It's like a hug for my dick, if you will lol. Also, don't even think about trying to get away .. unless you want these getting leaked to your boss and family pretty baby." A couple seconds later six pictures and four videos pop up. Now it all makes sense... he wasn't worried about being Ided, you had already seen his face, plue he gave you his name... you're screwed literally.

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psychemochanight · 4 months ago

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I know you hate labels on them, but if you HAD to label the Robins, how would you do it?

The first one, the second one, the third one...

Ok, out of jokes-

Dick: The first one.

With all that this implies: Dick being the one who founded the bases to follow, the one who made the mistakes that he later taught to correct, the one who saw the empty spaces that others later filled. The first one who had to be everything and learn on his own.

Jason: the DC experiment.

DC DIDN'T know how to deal with Dick's exit as Robin, it's like they never really planned on letting him out, but it happened. Jason became a character of trial and error.

At first he was an exact copy of Grayson, since the first one was successful... But obviously the fans didn't want a Dick Grayson with another name. So what did they do? They gave it a twist and did the opposite... It doesn't work well either.

And instead of continuing to try (even though Jason already had a fan base by that point), they chose to "get rid of" the character and then revive him as a "blank canvas."

A character who had a lot of potential, but they didn't know how to handle him and now the most relevant thing about him is his death because DC doesn't know how to give him continuity.

Tim: the robin of the fans for the fans.

Tim is often referred to as a fandom self-insert, and honestly, it's understandable why.

It's the Robin that gave off vibes similar to the original that was the most loved at the time, but at the same time, had real characteristics that fans could identify with.

Tim is the one with the most "normal" story, he is the one who could be any civilian, the one who seems like he wasn't meant to be, but he was.

In my opinion, the one who best balanced his personality as Robin and as a civilian.

(And that the fandom decides to totally ignore haha </3)

Although DC needs to learn to let go of Tim and let him grow. At this point I think half of the fandom doesn't even know how old he is or what hero he is.

Steph: the Robin who deserves better.

I don't just mean story-wise, obviously none of the characters deserved the shit they suffered and deserve a better life... I mean in general.

The real forgotten Robin is Steph, not Tim, and I'm not going to discuss it with anyone.

They (DC) keep writing the same story over and over again, rewriting the other Robins' history (especially Dick), but never giving us more about Steph.

Give my girl her story. Just like Jason, she has so much potential, give her her moment to shine!

(although, here I have to open parentheses for this: Steph has a much more consistent story than Jason, her role is more defined, but it feels outdated at this point. And, in any case, I feel like Steph shouldn't even really be a "bat", but rather someone independent... Or similar to Nightwing at least, who doesn't wear a bat on his suit).

Damian: the one who deserves not to be Robin.

Let me clarify: "the one who deserves not to be Robin", not "the one who does not deserve to be Robin".

Damian needed to be Robin, it was the key point in his development and I think Dick did the right thing by giving him the role of Robin...

But I feel that he deserves to stop being Robin too.

I think he's going to stop being Robin? No, not with DC writing him. DC has a history of resetting their characters to a certain point, they always bring them back. I don't think they're going to release Damian soon.

But while every character deserves to have a life outside of being heroes, I feel like Damian deserves it the most out of all of them.

The others are adults who have already chosen this, but Damian is a child, a teenager by now... And letting him be something more than the one who was created to be in the underworld, I feel that is the best for him.

I think he should stop being a vigilante? I'm not that sure, but that his life should definitely NOT revolve around that.

"The mission" should not be HIS mission.

So... Yeah, that.

I'm not sure if this makes sense to you tho-

#ask blog #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #dc comics #just my thoughts

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nowheredreamer · 5 months ago

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healing soul

Ridoc x reader

Warnings: mild spoilers of Iron Flame

A/N: Hey everyone this is my first fanfic in a loooooong time, like in probably ten years, so I am a little rusty, so be patience. Also english is not my first language so you may find some incohernet things, but I think I did the best to convey what I wanted. So if you find any error please feel free to tell me, and I would also apreciate any feedback because like I said it's been more than 10 years, so any critiscism, feedback, comments are welcome. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy xoxo

~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

Ridoc didn’t have many rules regarding his loving life, the man likes to explore the small and big pleasures that life has to offer. But that was a certain primary standard on his life, especially his rider life, that wouldn't trespass his love life.

One of them was that he didn’t sleep with cadets, not now that he was in his second year.

The second one was not sleeping with his squad's flings, they were a family after all and Ridoc did NOT like family feuds.

And his third and last one was he didn't sleep with infantry, scribes or healers.

It isn't like Ridoc didn't find some of them attractive, he did. But as a rider he just found them inferior or boring. It was a standard for him, even though in the last months getting with some of the riders wasn't too appealing for him, now that the first year was over most of the riders felt like his family, it was weird being attracted to someone of your family.

And that would have stayed true if it weren't for a certain girl. Ridoc hadn’t thought much of her, but his second year was a little bit rougher sending him a few times to the infirmary. That is where he met the apprentice healer for the first time.

~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

Havoc. Wildness. Despair. Chaos. Those were the words that Y/N would refer to at this moment. Cadets and riders were entering the infirmary left and right, the smell of smoke and burned meat infiltrared her nose. Madness. She had not figured out yet what had happened, and she couldn't definitely understand what would have happened to leave so many students burned, burned by flames of a dragon.

But she couldn’t focus on that right now, not when another cadet, with his body so burned that she could see the bone of his cheek, was put in the infirmary bed before her.

“Holy shit.” Her friend gulped. Gods, even though this was their second year, she and her classmates have not seen such damage like that before.They have dealt with burns before, I mean learning to deal with burning degrees from dragon flames were a basic thing on their learning, but they haven’t ever dealt with this kind of level.

Both girls pushed their emotions aside so they could start attending to the poor boy, who was now crying of pain.

“You're gonna be okay, we are going to treat you then your body can heal and take the pain away, and it will heal, you will be fine.” She reassured the poor boy.

“ I wanna go home, please.” His voice came with nothing but a small begging whisper, both learners looked at each other. She had a lot of respect for what the riders did once they graduated, but She could never understand or accept the brutal ways they did to get to graduation point.

She took his hand on hers while attending a small burn on his elbow and promised that everything would be okay. She didn’t want to lie to him, but the only things she could do right now was trying to offer a little comfort.

“You shouldn’t lie to him.” A graved tone came from her back, she turned around to see a man, standing on the bed beside the one was attending. - “He’s gonna learn that this place is not for the weak sooner or later.” - The brown hair man said, his tone was serious and he looked at you like riders normally looked at anyone who wasn’t a rider. She shrug at his ignorant words and kept working on the boy laid in front of her until one of her professor came to continue since the boy's burns degree was way more grave than students could secure.

Then she turned to face the bed beside where the rider, from the fourth wing as his (emblema) showed , was still waiting.

“Do you need help too or are you just here to supervise our work?” She said with sarcasm and accusation. Before he could answer, Jonah, her friend and classmate, who was attending to the boy on the bed chimed in.

“His friend has some second degree burns but I’m already taking care of it, but I can see a slight burn on his back.” Jonah said while putting some leaves on the boy's arm and pointing with his chin to the annoying man on my side indicating that he also had been injured.

“I’m okay, I don’t need help.” The rider said before I could say anything. She gave him an annoyed look while appointing a chair nearby.

“If you’re here we can’t let you leave without doing a check up first. Let me do my job and this will be over so you can go back to mounting dragons.” He let out an annoyed sound but followed her to the chair. “Can you please take your shirt?” Her question left as soon as he sat on the chair wanting to get rid of him as quickly as she could.

“Wow there, people usually go on a date first, although healers are not really my type.” His tone was full of mischief but also tardiness, like the joke came automatically to him.

“Oh my poor heart, how am I going to live after this?” Her voice was so flat at this point that the man just slightly flinched and took his shirt off. She went behind him, and he really had a burn on his back, but it was a first degree, probably just needing disinfection and then some medication to calm the skin. She grabbed the cloth putting one hand on his back to stabilize him and he instantly gave a slight flinch.

“Gods, your hands are freezing.” He said rapidly between teeth.

“Good thing for someone who has a burn on his skin.” She put my hand on his back again while gentlying using the cloth to clean his injury. A shiver ran down his spine, not even the largest, biggest rider was immune to pain.

His strong back tensed with each contact, pulling his muscles together on his beautiful tanned skin. Gods, riders and their fucking beautiful bodies. It was rather annoying actually, but they definitely made up with their personality, especially this one. So annoying.

“Are you trying to kill me or something, woman?” He hissed again, pushing his back away from me.

“Crybaby” she whispered to herself while grabbing him by his shoulder and continuing to work on his back, but she Guessed her whisper wasn't as silent as she expected because he whipped his head around to look at her. She stared back with a pointing look, and he just smirked and turned around. And a small smile threatened to appear on the girl’s lips.

After finishing up on his back, she started checking for any more injuries on his backside, finding a small one on his neck right on the line where his thick brown wavy hair started. She asked for him to look down and gently touch his stiff nape, and he immediately reacted.

“Sorry.” She apologized knowing from experience that most people were very sensitive around their necks.

“It 's okay.” He assured me gently, unlike his interaction with her before. He settled his body back to her again and started cleaning the burn with the most delicacy that she could. She still could see the shivers that went on his body, and for a minute it felt like there were just she and him on the infirmary, she was so focus on his responsive body and trying to be gentle with him that her brain fogged the cries, the whimpers, the pain shouts. It was just her and the nameless beautiful rider. She shook my head finishing up and turned around to see if there were any injuries on his front. And she thanked the gods that her cheeks had not heated.

“I'm just gonna do a final check up before we are done.” His face lifted to the sound of her voice and when his eyes met hers, she could see something sad then, but quickly his facial features turned on the playful side again. She rolled her eyes and quickly moved to do her job, checking pupils. Checking for concussion, and lastly checking his abdomen to see if it had any injuries, and she swore she would try her hardest to not linger too much on his strong body.

“Do you need more time to check up on me up?” He asked so smudged that she could hear the smirk on his lips. She rolled my eyes again.

“You are done. I would recommend not wearing anything too tight and sleeping without a shirt and on the front side to avoid inflammation, giving access for your skin to heal and breathe.” She recited the recommendations almost automatically since it wasn't the first or last time she would be saying that tonight. Before he could answer, Noah stepped beside me.

“Sorry to interrupt but Leith it’s looking green again and I think he's going to… “ He hesitated looking at the rider seated in front of them paying close attention to them. But she didnt need for Jonah to complete, she knew, Leith was a really great student, if not one of the bests in class, but when came down to the practical part of it, especially on this case when wasn’t not a premeditated test, he would let his emotions ruled him, and she personally believe that he had an aversion for certain lacerations.

“ I’m finished here, I’m going to check on him, how severe is the situation?” And his face changed the minute the question left her lips, he also didn't need the words, she could see on his face. She gave him a small nod, and he left. She counted to ten to steady her breath, this was going to be a long night. When she turned to the man still seated, his eyes were already searching hers, eyes that once again show that tiredness that she saw before, his eyebrows were lower and slightly closer. And in that instant the man who had looked at her with disdain, sarcasm and playfulness, now had what she accessed as a worried look, and sincere one. She fidget her hands on her coat, not used to the kind of expression, not towards me at least.

“Remember to follow my instructions and unless if you have a family member or someone real close to you, please go to your courts, this place it's already too packed up tonight.” His expression changed to neutral and he lifted from the chair, with that done she turned to go find Leith, when his voice reached me in a low tone.

“Thanks, I am Ridoc, by the way.”

She was surprised and studied his face, his brown light eyes and the soft strands of his hair sticking on his sweaty forehead.

“Y/N. And I hope I don't see you here again.” she turned before he could answer and went to take care of the poor young life they were about to lose.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

#fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #ridoc gamlyn x reader #ridoc x reader

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months ago

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I have this extremely detailed idea for a fic LOL where you’re childhood friends with the Miya twins and also play volleyball. You end up getting injured first year of high school and end up moving to karasuno and become manager. You have a falling out with atsumu cuz he’s angry at you for leaving but ur still friends with atsumu. You run into them again at nationals and call atsumu “Miya” while calling osamu by his name which pisses atsumu off. He ends up coming to ur hotel after the loss and there’s an angry confession. I love the way you write atsumu and would love to see this fully fleshed out!!!

hello my dearest anon i'm sorry it's taken literal MONTHS for me to get to this but i kept it in my drafts so i could come back to it and do it justice !!! the angry confession lowk turned into just a straight up hurt/comfort scene but i think it's more in atsumu fashion to just straight-up fold and forget being angry if the person he loves is sobbing hehe

the twins were people you didn't remember meeting, exactly; it was like a whack-a-mole game in an arcade where one pops up in front of you and before you can push that one away, another springs to life even closer to you. as one twin bounces over to invade your peaceful sandbox, the other twin would tackle him mercilessly and end up destroying your creation anyway. jealousy was an expression you observed in atsumu from an early age, especially when you were in school and seated with osamu as your desk partner. in spite of your efforts to avoid them and their ceaseless bickering, their presence eventually became endearing as you grew with them through elementary school and middle school.

it helped that you shared their love for volleyball, often referred to as "the terror triplets" whenever you played a co-ed game. in and off the court, you filled the gaps they didn't know they had, wordlessly hurling water over the side of the boat if they were sinking. atsumu was the chaos, osamu was the wrangler, and you were the one who used reason to pull your friends out of sticky situations. their parents liked to joke that you were the reincarnated third sibling that atsumu ate in the womb, and the three of you spread that rumor in 7th grade until you were taken to the principle's for unruly behavior. for better or for worse, you were the third facet of their invincible duo, adding a glow that helped the others shine even brighter.

so it felt like the walls were crashing down when you snapped your ankle during freshman year semifinals.

atsumu had heard you scream before, specifically when you were fed up with his shenanigans and saw no other option to make him listen. your voice would be at its peak volume for so long, it would go hoarse and it was like looking a dragon in the mouth. your rage gave him goosebumps, almost a thrill that ran down his spine; but, the moment you landed wrong after a miracle jump set made him nauseous.

osamu would've missed it if he'd tuned out for a second, since it was less than a scream than a cry. one moment, you were launching from the ground to send a spike to the other end of the net, and the next you were crumpled on the linoleum, your breathing concerningly ragged. he shoots atsumu a look and they wordlessly shove their way down the stairs and onto the court, past concerned onlookers and replacing your teammates under your arms as you're removed from the game. osamu has no time to protest--nor question--his twin's motives when atsumu takes matters into his own hands and sweeps your legs from under you, carrying you against his chest and murmuring quiet words of comfort into the top of your head.

your family moves to a prefecture in the countryside less than three months later, drained from the constant excitement of the city.

"he hasn't spoken a word to me since you guys got here," you mutter to osamu in a shaded corner of your backyard. "he tell you anything?"

"you know as well as i do that he doesn't tell me shit," osamu points out and you groan.

"tsumu keeping secrets from both of us," you lament. "just the development i needed before i never see you guys again."

"don't say that." your best friend's face was gravely serious, like the prospect of never seeing you again was ailing him too. "you'll visit, won't you?"

"i'll do my best. you know they don't like me going out anymore since my injury," you say, glancing at your parents bidding goodbye to their coworkers that attended the party. "i just wish he'd tell me what's wrong."

"i don't," osamu scoffs and you blink at him, dumbfounded. "honestly, i'm pretty sure i know what's wrong with him."

"but you won't ask because..."

"because he won't stop yapping about it if i open up the topic to conversation," he bluntly explains and you find yourself waiting for elaboration.

"what could possibly be on his mind that's affecting him so badly?" at that moment, before osamu could expose his brother's melodrama, you were called away by your parents and what atsumu was hiding, you never found out. two hours later, you were watching your best friends become smaller and smaller out of the car window.

---

when you first sign on to be a manager for karasuno's volleyball club, you truly don't think they'll make it to nationals. in fact, you hoped they wouldn't make it so you could continue to stay out late and could avoid thinking about the now-blonde twin who was suddenly ignoring your messages. your days were spent so long surrounded by the monster twins and their equally monstrous friends at inarizaki; it was bittersweetly refreshing to see such a rag-tag collection of rowdy individuals that, by some stroke of luck, could mesh together well enough to call themselves a team. so, when you're on the bus to nationals after defeating the strongest team in the prefecture, you're just as surprised and shocked as the rest of them to be in the city.

"didn't you spend your first year in tokyo?" kiyoko asks quietly, peering out the window over the rim of her glasses at the towering skyline.

"i did, but moved out here when my parents got tired of the city," you explain. "i haven't been back since."

"and you never visited?" her question isn't accusatory, just unsettlingly attentive as your fellow manager tended to be. your mind pushes forth the memory of your promise to osamu, and your simultaneous bridge burning with atsumu. whether you struck the match or he did, you couldn't tell.

"well, i-uh," you hesitate and she waits patiently for your reply, "i just never got around to it. strict parents and whatnot."

"i see. do you still have any friends here?" there's a clear image at the forefront of your psyche now, two shadows of twins you once knew standing between your new team and victory. "i know you played before your accident, so maybe we'll see some people you know." you can feel her words prodding you like a shepherd with a stick, herding you into sharing more about your past than you're comfortable admitting.

"yeah," you chuckle with blatant anxiety. the look on her face tells you she's reading straight through your white lies, but she doesn't push any further. "maybe we will."

as luck would have it, you run into the one team you did not want to interact with for as long as possible. after wanting to walk off the nerves of the following day's matches, you and a few of the more restless players decided to explore the area near the inn. you're barely two blocks away from the entrance doors when you spot two silhouettes burned into your memory from childhood, wrapped in bright red inarizaki track jackets.

"those guys look like a team we might play," you hear hinata mutter to kageyama, who puts no effort into hiding his distaste toward your former school. "i heard kita, the white-haired guy, is the captain, and he's like the conductor of an orchestra--"

"the twins he controls are brutal," daichi suddenly declares from next to you and you nearly jump out of your skin. the mob of red was slowly approaching your mob of black, going opposite directions on the same sidewalk and inevitably on track to collide. a true trainwreck, to say the least. "they move like a two-headed snake and are backed by the rest of the team, who have talent in their own right." step by step, your past and your present draw closer and you suddenly have the urge to hurl.

"i know that's your old team," kiyoko leans in and whispers so that only you can hear. you freeze. "if you wanna avoid them, i'll go back to the inn with you. sawamura has it from here." by the time you give her a grateful smile and open your mouth to reply, it's too late. the inarizaki and karasuno teams stop parallel to each other and you don't have time for hiding.

osamu spots you first.

"well if it isn't the pride of 'the terror triplets' returning to their hometown," he teases with an easy smile, stepping out from the group to greet you. you feel karasuno's gawking expressions follow you as you wrap your arms around osamu for the first time in a year, squeezing him like a sibling back from university.

"is it just me, or did your hair get greyer?" he shrugs one lazy shoulder and you turn your attention to your upperclassmen, who regard you with the same brotherly affection. "kita. ojiro. it's nice to see you again."

"nice to have you back," ojiro replies. "this is your new team?" you're abruptly made aware of your new players watching you in confusion and turn to them with a burning face. after explaining your history with inarizaki and reassuring them that you weren't going to abandon karasuno at nationals, they begrudgingly continue onward and let kiyoko and sugawara stay behind to keep an eye on you (and this alien new team you're associated with).

"he misses you. it's annoying," suna grumbles when you finally have the chance to catch up with him. you don't need to clarify that suna is referring to atsumu. in fact, you'd clocked him as soon as you spotted the team at the other end of the street; it was nearly impossible not to miss the sunshine-blonde hair sticking out from the middle. "but he's angry at you at the same time for abandoning us."

"i didn't abandon you guys," you protest. "my parents made me leave."

"and yet you never visted," suna counters blandly with his signature expressionless expression, but you can tell there was the slightest bit of hurt behind his words. "we miss hanging out with you. the miyas miss you. he misses you."

"you said that already," you frown. "if he misses me so bad, why's he made himself scarce all of a sudden?"

"he's hiding in the back, moping," he informs you. you peek around the towering shoulders of their tallest blockers and spot him, sinking into the stiff collar of his track jacket, eyes trained on whatever bullshit app on his phone. anything to avoid interacting with you. your heart pangs for a moment, but the pain is quickly forgotten when you remember how he'd ghosted you when you left.

you only speak to him once before you return to the karasuno players, when you're saying your goodbyes. he makes the mistake of reattaching himself to his twin's hip, a habit that he would never break.

"osamu," you nod at the gray-haired twin with a fond smile before your eye flick to the twin beside him. atsumu looks hauntingly good, coldly calculating and still with the dimple above the right side of his mouth. your smile falters, the light fizzling out from your eyes until nothing is left but a longing ache.

you say it without thinking, without knowing the ramifications that would arise in the following days. the single word spoken directly to atsumu's face enrages him more than when you left, when you tried to maintain contact, and when you ultimately stopped sending check-in messages. he misses you so badly, it feels like his chest is being torn open.

miya, you murmur curtly before turning on your heel and slipping through his fingers again.

---

"how did you know inarizaki was my old team?" you ask kiyoko when you return to the hotel the following evening, still riding the high of karasuno's lucky win over the foxes. you smiled with the crows and cheered them on as much as you could, but found yourself watching your former upperclassmen's disappointment sag in their bodies. you had to look away from kita as he finally broke down and ended up waiting for the rest of karasuno in the lobby, heartbroken witnessing your past (and what could have been your future) any further. "i mean, i appreciate you giving me an out when we first saw them. i really do. i'm just wondering how you knew."

"your water bottle," she answers simply. "i kept wondering where the fox sticker came from, and recognized it on their jackets when they walked closer." your mouth opens in a small ah of understanding, hugging a pillow close while your fellow manager finished getting ready for bed. "why'd you never visit? or tell karasuno about where you came from?"

"it was less painful to just move on," you admit, "or so i thought." burying your face in the pillow to hide your shame, you glance up and find kiyoko watching you sympathetically. "atsumu, the uh, blonde setter. i lost him when i moved." your voice cracks and your emotions threaten to spill over uncontrollably. by some miracle you maintain your composure but fall silent for a minute while you collect your thoughts. kiyoko waits again for you to continue, sitting across from you on the floor between your sleeping mats. "i stayed close with osamu because the only relationship i've ever had with him was platonic, but after my accident, and how 'tsumu took care of me..."

"you're in love with him," she finishes with a small sad smile. "but you've both chosen your sides and don't want to cross over. i saw it in your face every time we interacted with them." you nod weakly, pulling a blanket over your shoulders to further hide yourself. "what will you do if you never see him again?" you stare at her, heart sinking to your gut at the possibility. you peer at her through increasingly watery vision, tugging on a jacket and slipping on your shoes before you can even think.

you've barely stepped into the frigid winter air and swiped to osamu's contact on your phone when you collide with something firm and warm. you tilt your head up and feel like you're in a dream; somehow, you'd summoned him to karasuno's tiny inn with a few tears and lots of regret.

"what in the hell are you doing out so late--" oh. any lingering words of wrath, frustration, or heartache catch in atsumu's throat as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. he tenses for half a second, a deer-in-headlights brain malfunction, before snaking one arm around your waist and clutching the back of your head with his hand. you exhale a shaky sigh of relief when he returns your embrace which gives way to all the longing you'd bottled up for a year. when he makes to pull away, presumably to finally speak to you, you shake your head and hold him tighter.

"no," you plead, your soul bare for him to destroy. "don't make me leave." your last syllables devolve into a sob and you're choking for air against his chest. "please." he shushes you gently, carefully taking your face in one calloused hand and guiding you to look at him. his eyes are red and swollen from the day's loss, and tears run down in well-worn tracks across his cheeks. your thumb swipes them to the side as they fall and he doesn't try to pull away. one embrace and he's folding like a card table. maybe this was what he wanted all along.

"even after everything, i can't ever see you cry," he croaks. you can tell he's at war with himself, part of him wanting to cuss you out, scream at you for abandoning him, give you every angry piece of his mind that you avoided since your going-away party. yet, there's also the other half that compelled him to run to karasuno's accommodations in the first place just to see you; the part of him that ached for you and felt you closer than before, the part that said you needed him.

"i don't-i don't know what to do," you sniffle. "you hate me, and i--"

"i could never hate you," he promises adamantly. his anger forgotten, he just needs you to know that you're okay. "i hate that you left me...and that you called me my damn surname to my face...and that your new team won by sheer luck." you manage a watery laugh as he continues to commit every subtle movement of your face to memory (atsumu didn't know if he'd ever had the chance again). he offers a smile, something soft and endearing that he hopes you'll mirror. when you don't, he pulls you back into his chest and lets you ride out the rest of your breakdown. "i could never hate you. i love you too much."

"even when i'm ugly crying?" your voice is small and muffled, but it gets through to his freezing ears anyways. "and i manage a team that beat you?"

"i don't like when you do either, but i'll still love you anyways," he murmurs. "now let's get you out of the cold, i'm freezing my ass off and i was planning on confessing inside anyway."

---

even though you're the upperclassman manager after kiyoko graduates, ukai still lets you ditch a day of training camp to hop on a train to tokyo. the twins are waiting at the station when you step out, atsumu's inarizaki track jacket draped over his forearm. when he spots you as you round the corner, he meets you halfway and lifts you off your feet, spinning you around with a giddy grin on his face. before you can utter a word, he stops you and guides your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, forcing you to wear it before he listens to anything you say.

"hi, darling."

"hey, baby," he coos, taking your bag and slinging it over his swoon-worthy shoulder. "how was the train?"

"good. couldn't sit still, i was so excited," you reply, slipping your hand easily in his. "yo, miya," you say in greeting to the other twin. poor atsumu flinches slightly, still sore about you calling him by his surname during last year's nationals. his brother, however, is entirely unaffected.

"tsumu hasn't shut up about you for six days straight," osamu deadpans, but you catch the affection in his eyes when he reaches out to lightly punch your shoulder. "six days until they get here! five hours until they get here! two minutes until they get here!" you burst out laughing at osamu's impression of his brother, his voice an octave higher and mockingly sing-songy. "i'm glad you're here, but mostly i'm glad that now he can shut the hell up."

"i could never shut up about them," atsumu corrects, glancing at you with a lopsided grin. "i just love you too much."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n #haikyuu fluff #atsumu fluff #hq fluff #ask iris!

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2-old-to-guard · 2 months ago

Text

Trailer Analysis!!

Hello kiddos and welcome to The Old Guard trailer analysis!! This might beome multiple parts if they more than one trailer but for now it's stand alone.

I've linked the whole trailer on my blog so click on it to watch the whole thing:

So the first lines in the trailer are between Nile and Andy. This eases my fear that they were gonna sideline Nile in this movie. But from the beginnig of the trailer Nile is front and centre. I think there might be a flip of roles in them. I think Andy might be the naive one now whilst Nile is more cautious. With Quynh returning, I think Andy's love for her might blind her to traps. This is supported by a little clip of Nile saying "we're playing right into her hands".

Secondly, I think this scene might take place early in the movie and serves to set up Andy's character arc for the rest of the film. She's at peace with her life which will be immediately interrupted by the arrival of Akasha.

I also think this scene will be at the beginning of the film. Not just because Nile's line ("Didn't look that peaceful when you were shoving that guy out the window") references this scene, but also because it reminds me a lot of the Sudan mission from the beginning of the first film. Director, Victoria Mahoney, said there was gonna be a timeskip from the first movie to this, link here. So, they need a scene to establish the new relationships between the characters.

Also, aww Nile copying Joe's move from the first movie!!

So this scene is from the final battle (I believe) so I think this means that all the immortals, plus Tuah, make it to the end of the movie. I heard some rumors that Nicky might die but there six motocycles so unless something untoward happens I think he makes it. (Also whoever started that rumor why would you scare me like that!?!?!)

I think this is from the final battle as well, supported by the outfits they're wearing and the setting, so we know that Booker joins them again. I love to see Nile taking charge of the team and Andy letting her go first (a reference to the first movie). Also, bold move of Andy to let Booker walk behind her. This might be to show that Andy still trusts him even after his betrayel though he may need to prove himself.

So I think this is a flashback of some description. For the life of me I can't figure out who this is (if you can please comment below). I currently have three theories. The first is this is Andy's first death and rebirth as it looks like they're in mid-battle. The second is maybe after she escaped from the Witch Trials and killing the priests who took Quynh. The third theory is that this is Akasha when she was first turned immortal. Maybe as a way to flush her out as a character. But again, I can't tell who this is at all I'm sorry!!!)

This collection of shots blew my mind. Knowing that Akasha was there at Quynh's trial makes me think that she's always watching the immortals as a sort of spirit. I wonder how they're gonna explain why her hatred of Andy for 'choosing humanity over the immortals' when she let this SHIT happen. Like did she give Andy the choice to turn to the dark but when Andy chose to stay a hero that when she began to hate her??

I completley understand why people don't like Akasha character. You can find the post here. But I tHiNk I understand what they're trying to do. In the comics, Quynh (Noriko) was lost at sea during a shipwreck.

She was lost at sea for a couple decades before washing up on shore. She hid from the group, letting them think she was dead as she built a criminal empire. She reveals herself to the others when she has enough power to defeat them.

But with how Quynh's story has been crafted, this would seem impossible. Because of their budget, they couldn't stage a CGI shipwreck so went with the iron coffin. In the original script, Qunyh escaped the coffin at the same time the group was at Goussainville. But in the current, version, she doesn't escape until later. She doesn't have the same experience with the modern world that Noriko does and therefore wouldn't have the same pressence. In the first movie, many of Andy's fight scenes carried this aura of being the most skilled fighter in whichever fight she as in. Having Akasha be the "oldest of the immortals" means she has more knowledge of fighting and stragedy than Andy which puts her at a disadvantge. Furthermore, it explains how she was able to create an empire which she will probally have. Not that I am saying she was a good addition and why she HAD to be Uma Thurman. But I think this was a marketing ploy.

This scene supports my theory of trying to put Andy at a disadvantage. This library gives Library of Alexandria vibes and I think this is supposed to represent all the knowledge Akasha has but Andy has lost. Unlike Andy, who has been out in the world doing something with her immortality, Akasha simply watches, learns and records. This makes her a much different villain than the arrogant, irrational and ignorant Merrick.

This is the first lines for the other new addition, Henry Golding's Tuah. I first thought he might have been a traitor who was working with Akasha but I now think he's geniunley helping them. I can't tell but I think he's wearing a bathrobe in this scene so he might be a down-on-his-luck character who's brought into the fray and given a purpose. This also seems to take place in the library from the last shot so might take place at the mid-point, like late act 1 early act 2. I am curious as to his relationship with the others are. This might be a rather out-there theory but he may be a adaptation of Zeus, Andy's adoptive son. This would further the movies themes around paternal love, similar to Booker.

This shot is the cutest fucking thing I've seen in a while. I can tell this scene is gonna break and fill my heart. I've read a brilliant post about it here, so I invite you to read it. But overall, I think this scene is one of comfort. I think they might be comforting each other after seeing Quynh again. We sort of missed out of that in the comics so I would love a scene where Joe and Nicky talk about losing her.

Having, probally Akasha's men, be the ones to find Quynh insted of having her escape by herself, changes her whole story. Veronica Ngo's acting is SO good in this short scene. You can almost see Quynh become confused that Andy isn't the one she's staring at. One of the things that also puzzled me about her villain arc was the idea that she blamed Andy for her imprisionment. I felt like if Andy told her that she tried but couldn't find her it would convince Quynh. But having Akasha be the one to find Quynh and then manipulating her into believing Andy abandoned her would make more sense.

Got to love the manipulated manipulating. This is has clearly been filmed during 2022 insted of during the original filming process as Veronica and Matthias look slightly different. The audio doesn't match her mouth so it makes me think it's an overlay. I wonder what she was actually saying but it is probally manipulation.

This helicopter has been in all the promo for this movie so I wonder if this is when Charlize gets on the helicopter or if it's at a different point.

Another bit of evidence that supports Nicky's survival is this scene. If you look behind Joe, you can see the faint outline of Nicky's murder hoodie. So I'm convinced that he makes it to the end. This scene must also take place during the final fight, costume, location, etc.

I am officialy a child of divoce. I'm not sure if this is the first scene Andy and Quynh interact but it's probally the first scene they fight. Love Nile stood in the background like the 🧍emoji. I think she'll try to help but Andy will hold her back. Andy will let Quynh fight her as pennence. I also think Quynh is working for Akasha as a way to get back at Andy and the gang. My theories are she'll either join with the main gang by the end of the movie or she'll become the main villain for the third movie.

Ahhhh this scene confuses me and I can't figure out what it means. The depressed part of my brain thinks that Booker has also lost his immortality and his line "nothing that lives, lives forever" is him cracking a joke at his position. Or, this scene is meant to mislead the audience into thinking he's betrayed them again. Maybe he's working undercover with the villains and then switchs sides at the end of the movie. IDK, I have no theories guys it seems like it's just there to give Booker ANY scenes in this trailer.

OMG this scene make me scream out loud. I love that Nicky has no fear that Joe will catch him and Joe having no doubts about catching him. I think this scene might be a reference to the opening pages of the Force Mutiplied comics where Andy and Nile drive similar cars to the one Nicky is driving to escape the police. I love the retro car Joe is driving and it makes me think that they have been ambushed by Akasha's forces and just had to grab a nearby car, similar to Goussanville. Also, the car explosion early in the trailer!?!?!? I don't think Nicky and Joe die, as they ARE in the finale, but I think it's meant to show the upped stakes of the sequel. And the upped budget.

I have gone after this shot over and over to try and figure out who was stabbed. I know it's not Joe, Nile or Andy. I also don't think it's Nicky or Booker as neither of them wear rings like that. It's most likely Tuah as he's the only 'mortal' character left. I think this would be a truly tragic moment, especially if he is a close person in Andy's life. It would be a moment in the finale to give Andy an extra emotional push for the final fight.

I love the symbolism of Andy "hammering her bloody fists" against the glass almost like she's the one stuck in the iron coffin. I cannot figure out what she's mutters in this shot but it's clearly important. I wonder if the final fight is gonna be a trap as a subversion to the fight in the first movie.

As I was saying before, Uma Thurman's inclusion in this movie is a huge part of marketing given how much this emphasis this fight is given in the trailer. But it also works from a symbolic standpoint. I think Akasha is supposed to represent Andy's previous form, an immortal cynical violent warrior. But unlike Akasha, Andy has grown and become more optimistic and caring. In a sense, Andy is fighting herself. I also notice that Akasha looks tired so I think her power has been removed during this sequence, leaving her on the same level as Andy. I also wonder if she's also lost her immortality and so this will be a fight to the death. I also wonder if Andy will be seriously injured in this fight

Conclusion:

So here are my thoughts on the trailer. Feel free to add anything you noticed in the comments!! I'm so excited guys!!! I'm gonna be insufferable on July 2nd

#the old guard #the old guard 2 #luca marinelli #andromache the scythian #charlize theron #netflix #immortal husbands #marwan kenzari #kiki layne #nicolo di genova #tog analysis #nile freeman #yusaf al kaysani #sebastien le livre #uma thurman #henry golding #immortal wives #andromaquynh #quynh the old guard

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dixons-sunshine · 1 year ago

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js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

#𝑘𝑟𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠 ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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greyyson-but-no · 5 months ago

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piece of shit

; she/her reader ; googled die hard references ; swearing? but it's the title so you can assume LMAO ; 16+

charles boyle had been a piece of shit and a pain in the ass.

while jake had been trying to get the squad back to new york in time for holt's commissioner meeting, boyle had constantly been hinting at something between you and jake. to jake's face. in order to get him to confess or something? he wasn't even sure at this point, all he knew was that they were driving long the motorway in a camper that definitely wasn't about to explode and they had one mission: get holt back to new york.

first it had been at the funeral, when you'd walked into the room in that dress and jake couldn't take his eyes off you. charles had noticed and wouldn't shut up about it for the whole time the funeral ran.

the second time had been when they stopped at nakatomi plaza and jake had murmured something about you being holly gennaro. in his defense, he didn't think anybody had heard. again, charles brought it up even more than the last occurrence.

the third time was at the airport. someone had suggested acting like someone was pregnant, and boyle had brought up how "easily it would be for jake and y/n to look like a couple". it had earned him a not-so-subtle elbow in the side from jake and furrowed eyebrows from the rest of the squad.

a lot had happened since then. all the flights had been cancelled, scully had faked a heart attack and now they were all sat in a hired camper, taking turns to drive halfway across the country in it.

it had been around 6 hours. jake had just gotten off his second shift of driving and went to sit next to you in the seats along the back. it was clear you were tired, it made sense you were. earlier in the day, you had confided with jake about your lack of sleep, which was now catching up to you.

you really had meant to listen to him as he spoke, but god, you were so tired. he had just started talking, complaining about something or other, moving quickly onto his excitement for the captain.

but soon enough, your tiredness had caught to you and you slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

against his shoulder.

jake gulped when he realized, feeling your cheek against him, following the soft up and down movement of your chest as you breathed softly, how soft your face looked as you slept.

then how comfortable you must have been to fall asleep against his shoulder. god, he better not wake you up. you needed nothing more than this sleep right now. what if his shoulder wasn't comfortable enough and you would wake up? what if the trailer went over a speed bump and it woke you up? suddenly, the detective was very nervous.

as this happened, a certain charles boyle walked out from the bathroom in the trailer, wiping his hands with a wet cloth, dropping it as his eyes locked onto you, asleep of jake's shoulder.

"shush..." jake made charles promise, index finger pushed to his lips to enforce his message. "don't say a word."

boyle moved into the booth opposite the two, leaning against the table between them. "this is so sweet!"

jake shook his head. "what did i say?"

"sorry..." charles murmured, clearly not actually sorry as he grinned at the two. he lowered his voice. "so... you gonna tell her?"

"tell her what?"

boyle scoffed, gesturing to the two of you. "that you like her, ask her out, the whole shebang. you know, we all know she likes you back, she is literally asleep on your shoulder."

jake shook his head. "i can't."

"why not?"

"charles, i don't really want to go into it. it's too complicated."

boyle shrugged, sitting back in his seat again, still looking at the two of them but letting jake pull out his phone to check something. but there was an odd silence. it was clear jake wanted to talk about it, he was just in denial and trying to pretend it wasn't a problem. the detective put his phone away again, moving to look back at charles.

he cleared his throat softly, turning to look down as you shuffled slightly in your sleep, resting your legs up on the seat and somehow leaning further into him. "alright then." he shook his head when charles grinned at his reply. "what if it doesn't go right? okay, yeah, she might like me back, but if we go on a couple dates and it doesn't work out the squad will be ruined. we have such a good friendship going, i don't wanna risk that."

charles shrugged, leaning back in his eat and looking between the two of them. "or, you don't ask her out and you lose a chance at a really good relationship, one that could be perfect. how many arguments have the two of you worked out over the years? it's not gonna go wrong, it's whether you believe that or not."

jake hummed.

the two detectives sat in silence for a minute, jake following the cars out the window, charles watching as rosa went up to talk to the captain.

after a bit, jake looked down at her again, sighing. "i have to tell her, don't i?" charles nodded. jake had made his decision.

they had just dropped holt off at one police plaza for his meeting, the group all deciding to go their separate ways after the tiring last 48 hours they had had. jake wasn't even planning on telling you he liked you yet, opting to wait for the perfect moment.

instead, it was you who went to find him, calling after him as he walked off in the direction of his own place. "jake! wait up!"

he grinned when he saw you, pausing in his place to let you catch up, hands shoved in his pocket. "what's up?" he spoke, voice far too cheery for the past days they'd had. he definitely couldn't wait much longer to ask you out.

laughing, you shook our head. "i, uh, can't actually remember a lot of what happened these last couple hours. i tried to ask santiago but she had no clue either. did i- uh-?"

"you alright?" he could tell you were a bit out of it. he understood, but it was still a bit odd. "you can ask, what's up?"

"did i fall asleep on your shoulder in the camper?" you laughed at yourself, as if the concept was impossible, or otherworldly. jake didn't quite know how to handle what you had just asked. he decided on honesty, just exactly what happened.

he nodded. "you did, for like, 2 hours or something?"

"fucking hell." shaking your head, you let your head fall into your hands. "that's really embarrassing."

jake shook his head, eyebrows furrowed at you. "it's not embarrassing, don't worry." he lightened up a bit, smiling at you. "hey, maybe i just have really comfortable shoulders."

tilting your head, you shrugged. "i mean, a 2 hour nap in a rickety old trailer? seems like i owe it all to your shoulders..." you faded off, realising how weird that would sound. even though he had tried to reassure you that it wasn't embarrassing, you still felt weird because of it. christ, you'd had this massive crush on this guy for ages and now you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder without like, asking or anything?

you didn't quite know how to deal with the situation, but jake was laughing so maybe it would all be okay.

"hey listen." jake started, voice going soft, oddly soft for him, but you shrugged it off as he spoke. "i know we've just spent over 48 hours joined at the hip in some form of transport, but did you wanna maybe get a drink together at shaw's tonight? just us for once?"

you smiled softly, nodding. "yeah, i'd actually love that."

"great." he mirrored your warm smile. "i'll pick you up at 8 then?" and he didn't even give you time to respond before he turned on the heels of his shoes and walked off back home.

you had gone to speak but then realized there would be no point. he had just asked you out on a date tonight, right? shaw's was a regular hang out spot, but normally with everyone.

oh my god, he had just asked you out on a date.

#jake peralta #jake peralta fluff #jake peralta x reader #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #grey writes #jake peralta fanfic #charles boyle

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vanya-evergreen · 9 months ago

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Quick blurb- batfam x civilian sibling

This was an idea that has been rattling around in my empty shell brain for about the past two days now. Anyways, basically, Sibling was adopted after tim before Damian in classic fanfic fashion, but you decided that you wanted nothing to do with Vigilante activities, if it is because of trauma or pure laziness is up to you. What you need to know is that you maintain a very public appearance with the Wayne name and all.

This means that you are lying your ass off every time one of the batfam members miss an event that they were expected to be at. So you decided to have some fun with it.

"Excuse! Where might your father be?" A reporter, covered by the crowd, shouted interrupting you mid speech.

You stop almost immediately and look out into the direction you heard the voice come from. This was the third time that you had been interrupted. And it was all about the same topic. Bruce Wayne.

This was meant to be a grand opening of a new building Wayne Enterprises had built for a small charity that was for treating childhood cancer, and the only thing I cared about was some rich guy? You didn't like this at all, and it didn't help Bruce's case that you were already pissed at him too.

"I am sorry to say but he couldn't make it..." This is typically where you left it, but out of pure spite you couldn't help but add more "he's resting in bed currently, I think he got a bad burn from last night's activities."

There are multiple rumors you could've been referring. It could've the one about him trying to grab a muffin tray out of the oven, or maybe one about him trying to slide down a pole... in his underwear. The options were endless, and you definitely weren't going to specify.

you continued on with your speech as crowd sat stunned in silence for a few seconds before people began to write once again. Even if their mind was still lingering back to what you implied..

Bruce was pissed, but everyone else thought it was hilarious. Until it started happening to them..

Some took your last snack or stole your phone charger? So what do you do? Make up an embarrassing cover story.

"Oh poor {batfam member}, I heard that he couldn't come today because they were injured. But I could have sworn that they were in the mansion playing around with some suction cups on their face."

The possibilities are really endless! Everyone would try to avoid pissing you off because of these rumors that you created. Hell, some of them even stopped skipping out on public event because of this. Your family began to fear you, you could monopolize the entirety of their public image just because you had more time to attend public events, then them.

Social media absolutely loved you though- everyone got a kick out of how you over shared Wayne's lives (even if it wasn't true). You were the prime source of Wayne gossip, a reporter needed to write something on the waynes they would just go to an event you're speaking at and ask what where your family members are and you would give them the most ridiculous stories. But they ate that shit up.

#batman #batfam #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #batfamily #x reader #bruce wayne #dc universe #dc x reader #fanfic #blurb #platonic x reader #dc x you #batfam x you #reader is a menace #I enjoy writing a quick witted reader.

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mixtapedoh · 1 year ago

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and it was all yellow | y.j.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !

word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆

— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.

now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.

not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.

especially those things that could be used to his advantage.

— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).

— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."

to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.

(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)

to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.

— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.

ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.

— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”

“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”

and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”

and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”

"[REDACTED]."

"...shit."

— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.

— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.

and goddamn, if things didn't follow.

— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.

another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.

— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).

— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.

— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.

— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.

— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.

the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.

you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.

— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.

but then it didn't.

at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).

at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.

and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.

— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.

— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?

and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).

— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.

after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.

and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.

(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)

— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.

— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.

"what?"

and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.

jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"

it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"

you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.

"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.

"you think your ex would have bought that?"

of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."

"and that jacket is more my style than his."

"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."

"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."

and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?

"race you to the elevator."

— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.

— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).

"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."

"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."

and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).

— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.

— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.

the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.

— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of coton de tulear puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.

he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead

"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."

(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)

— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.

if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.

and he never did...

until you started to wear the things he left, of course.

'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)

'sure, but why 2?'

'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'

'???!?'

'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'

'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'

'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'

'😑'

'so what's your ring size?'

'stfu'

— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.

and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...

— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.

and besides. it looked good on you.

— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.

— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.

being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.

— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.

— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.

the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.

though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"

randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.

— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.

— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.

either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.

"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"

"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."

and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.

"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."

"but! it's all been submitted now."

"then i'll meet you."

— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'

you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.

— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.

despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.

if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.

— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,

it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.

— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.

it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.

— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.

— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.

you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.

he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.

— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.

not that it bothered you, of course.

it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— so.

if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.

deceit? of course.

scheming? obviously.

lying? naturally.

blackmailing? most assuredly.

gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.

changing criteria? yes.

moving goalposts? clearly.

hiding the apparent? well...

— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.

and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?

— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.

— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.

and it was only getting worse.

— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).

— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.

please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.

after all, what else are older brothers for?

— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.

— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.

it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.

"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"

cue jun choking once more.

"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."

"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.

"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."

"but then y/n could get his blessing!"

— at some point, jun was at his wits end.

in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.

if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.

one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.

— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.

one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.

— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.

jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”

“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”

you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"

— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan.

— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.

— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN

“angel.”

you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…

— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.

— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.

“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”

your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.

“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”

“i think i have time for both.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

#writing.svtu #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #svt imagine #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan imagine #yoon jeonghan x reader #still in that limbo of not knowing how to tag things but fuck it we ball ✌︎#if you want more svtu!jeonghan feel free to send in asks!!!!#honestly svtu has been eating at my brain for so long i have NOTES for this universe i'm so full of this story you could ask me any minute #detail and i probably have Reasons and Thoughts for it #all at once i had more planned for this headcanon set and yet nothing to add so we'll see what i end up doing with this headcanon set #also i think this reader deserves to have poodle jeonghan too that hairstyle lives rent free

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months ago

Text

try shit tuesday reference post

ongoing and (hopefully.) frequently updated! here is a list of my current ideas & hopefuls including any outlines or snippets i have available. the nsfw will be linked from a separate post on my sideblog, @subwillsolace. set up will look like:

idea

general outline/summary

snippet

5+1s (from yalls suggestions):

5 times Will wouldn't accept help and 1 time he did

cecil pov. five times, in the process of growing up, cecil watches his friend refuse help -- from his brothers, from chiron, from cecil himself (when his brothers were gone), from lou ellen, from his younger siblings. and one time cecil sees will accept help from nico.

"Solace, if you don't give me something to do right this second, I'll shadow travel myself right off a fucking cliff," Nico threatens. Will scowls. Cecil straightens, eyes wide. "Fine, you jackass," he grouches, all but flinging a roll of bandages at Nico's head. "Do it right."

5x Hazel had to learn something about the modern world and 1x she didn't

hazel pov. honestly i dont have much of an idea for this one yet so ill come back to it (& would be happy to brainstorm w the person who suggested this).

Will one 5x Apollo campers didn't make it and 1x one did

longer fic, will pov. cass's death, then diana's, then lee's, then michael's, then coming back to the overcrowded infirmary to realize he's alone. to kayla and austin's claiming, as if that will help, this time. and then one time he gets his siblings back -- from nero, when his father rescues them.

Will knows something is wrong because Michael doesn't let him see. Michael always lets him see. He struggles in Michael's grip but he doesn't struggle hard, because he is afraid. He can see the ends of Diana's hair but he cannot see Cass, and he can feel the grass, soaking beneath his bare feet. He does not look down. Instead he clenches the back of Michael's ratty hoodie and breathes through his mouth and says, "Michael, let me go. Please."

five times nico helps will fix his outfit and one time will helps nico fix his

nico pov. the first time he gives will clothes, which is a spare t-shirt because his got blood-soaked fixing a field injury. the second time is because they are going on a stealth mission and no, will, wearing all black is actually not conspicuous in any capacity, i know im doing it but it Fits With The Vibe, you are blond. yes i am discriminating. yes you are going to wear the polo shirt im giving you. sorry. the third time is a toga because will is visiting new rome and is Super pumped about it and oh my gods he looks good in a toga no one is supposed to look good in a toga??? it is a bedsheet???? huh???? the fourth time is. a very homoerotic collection of gifts. for his birthday. it is a wardrobe basically. like acessories and everything. he makes will try it all on in his cabin and it starts silly and gets real gay real fast. the fifth time is a full on tux he makes will wear to his cousins wedding because NO, a dress shirt and jeans is NOT black tie are you on crack. and there is a moment with fixing the bowtie that is. well its something. and there is dancing as slow songs play etc etc. the plus one is a horrible 'if lost return to mr. cullen' 'i am mr. cullen' twilight couple's shirt set will buys nico that he is so excited about that nico has to wear and then endure the immediate onset humiliation from all observing parties.

"Like -- this?" He pushes through the door, mouth screwed up in confusion, and Nico's mouth goes dry. He is -- Nico is not sure whom to blame, exactly. He does not make the robes, he left no instructions with the tailor, only get him a toga for the love of the gods he cannot go to council in shorts and please make sure it fits. But he had not thought to specify the robe be Roman; he had not thought he'd need to. Because what Will is wearing is a chiton. And it looks good. Nico feels his disgusting amount of honey cake do a full, enthusiastic barrel roll in his stomach, gunning for the track up his esophagus. "It looks bad, doesn't it." In other words, he is about to die.

five times nico can’t sleep and one time he can.

nico pov. once in early early camp days, where he misses his sister and sneaks out of the hermes cabin, sneaking up on and scaring the Shit out of a blond boy spying on chiron arguing with a camper in the big house. a second time the first night he is on the streets, sobbing, scared and furious and alone. a third time, half-delirious, trying to fix his own injury in a random country he has shadow-travelled to. a fourth time, in the barracks at new rome, aching with guilt over lying to percy. a fifth time, in the infirmary, watching will work. and in that same first time, when will quietly offers to help.

im leaving the following blank cus i dont have idea for them YET ill come back later

five times baby will is pranked and one time it backfires

five times will gets trauma flashbacks and bottles it up and the one time he doesn’t.

five times will gives up his personal life for camp and one time he decides to put himself first.

five times nico is away from home and one time he returns

5 times people meet Will for the first time and 1 time he sees someone again if that makes sense

omg five times nico ends up at the infirmary (ill/ injured) and one time (the only one time ever) will gets nursed back to health again

five times will had an emotional breakdown and one time he finally explode (plus if nico is the one he break into )

five times nico didn’t accept will (thinking he doesn’t deserve him) and one time he finally does (bonus if will too try to accept nico) (bonus bonus the timeline is when they were new into relationship aka before toa)

bigger fic (aka probably several chapters) ideas:

lee's backstory.

starting with a pretty young lee. generally just a long story going through his life thinking hes a mortal, although a weird one, in new york, including the time his mother sits him down the nth time he freaks out about monsters he cant prove are there and quietly telling him schizophrenia runs in the family. his teen years as he gives up trying to make people believe him and just learns to take the monsters on himself, decking weird dog head things and stabbing cyclopes in their stupid massive eyes. he wakes up to a bow, once, on his bed. he doesnt tell his mother. he uses it. all the way to his first year at camp, where hes 15 years old and taken by a satyr when his school is blown up with him in it. all the way to the day he wakes up, older sisters already gone, battle on the horizon, and knows he is going to die.

He’s not looking at her when he walks in, just barely before the last second of the bell. She’s looking at him, though. “Lee Fletcher?” Lee whips his head up, pausing at his seat. The woman has the greenest eyes he’s ever seen — unnaturally so, like pools of chlorophyll — and they lock onto him like the scope of a crossbow. “Uh. Yeah.” There’s a click as the door closes. Lee swallows, sliding slowly into his desk, keeping his hand, as surreptitiously as he can, down low by his thigh, just out of view. “You the sub?” Cody sneers from beside him. “You having another episode, freak? Mrs. Cobb has been here all semester.” Lee glances over at — Mrs. Cobb. She watches him carefully, strange eyes carefully blank, scared hands still and stiff on the arms of her chair. He has been in this Calculus II class for seven months now. He has never seen her once. Cody hasn’t either. But Cody’s a fuckin’ dumbass. “Right,” Lee says lightly. “I’ll up to dosage to three batteries a night. Can always count on you, Codster.” Cody scowls deeper, kicking over Lee’s backpack. His books go flying across the front of the classroom, papers fluttering about like butterfly wings. “Whatever, tardo.” “Language,” says Mrs. Cobb. Her voice is low, gravelly; like Lee would expect for someone her age, only there’s an undertone to it, a smoothness he’s never head before. Like the rustling of leaves in the breeze right before you fall asleep. She watches him, again, eyes the only thing that track him, rest of her as stiff as a branch. “If everyone is ready, we’ll get right to it.” Without waiting for input, and completely ignoring the group of kids gossiping away in the corner, she wheels towards the blackboard and starts writing. It does not take long for the few students awake to lose interest. She doesn’t seem to care. “You have a desk, Lee Fletcher.” Lee blinks, coming back to himself; his books have been gathered and his backpack has been zipped. His knees ache, and there are at least four spitballs in his head. Mrs. Cobb pauses, tilting her head to the side. “It’s a challenge in the classroom, isn’t it?” Lee curls a hand around the strap of his backpack. “What is?” “The ADHD.” She taps her stick of chalk, tap, tap, snap. “Useful out in the world, though, I bet. Makes you quick.” There is no reason for her to know about that. Even if she has been his teacher this whole time — and Lee knows she hasn’t, even though he cannot recall who she’s replaced — the school does not have the information. Lee knows. He filled out the forms. He gives up on pretence. “Who the hell are you?“ “Your teacher.” She wheels around, thick eyebrow raised. “And your elder, so I’ll thank you not to speak to me that way.” Lee’s mind races. She is human-sized — Lastrogonians can’t hide that. Neither can cyclops. An empousa would never in a million years choose an elderly form, and their concrete brick of a school is nowhere near so much as a sprout for her to be a dryad, even one of the nicer ones. If it was a minotaur, he’d already be dead. He fuckin’ knew he shoulda read more in his Ancient Zoology: An Alpha to Omega Guide on Ancient Creatures book. Stopping at P was a mistake. “I know you’re not human.” He unzips, as quietly as he can, blindly ruffling through the smallest pocket. “You’re not fooling me, I’m not —” The background sounds of the school go white. Lee faintly, in the back of his tongue, tastes copper. Mrs. Cobb reacts half a second before he does. “Everybody down!” ——— He woke up to ash and heat. Slightly more heat than ash, if he had to quantify.

cabin 7 fic the one time will got really sick

the time will got a fever as a kid and his body went so sun hot when trying to fix it that he would burn anyone who touched him and his siblings just had to watch him suffer. lee pov. him slowly noticing that will is getting sick and then quickly trying to do something about it but it happens FAST and will gets a really really high fever but not just high for a human -- high for will. it burns to touch him and he glows so brightly it is impossible to even look at him without scorching your eyes. hes in pain and hes in danger and lee is terrified because he doesn't know how to fix it. (as referenced in the kayla & lee fic)

Lee probably would have caught it a little sooner -- any of them would. Except: Apollo kids don't get sick. Not really. Not when flu hits hard and fast, as it does every summer, not in '01, Cass tells him, and half the camp got cow fever, somehow. Someone needs to tend to the sick and dying. Their father knows that, and has blessed them. Lee can't really remember being sick ever, except a cold, once, when he was about four. At first he thinks it's another one of Will's migraines. These, all the blessings in the world cannot cure. There's nothing viral about inflamed blood vessels in the brain, there's nothing bacterial about a fever from white blood cells fighting off an illness that isn't there. When Will starts shrinking from the light and wincing at every scattered sound, that's when they know -- the four eldest, Cass, Diana, Lee, and Michael -- know to guide him carefully back to the cabin, pick him up if he's fighting, and send him to sleep before it gets worse. Pray it doesn't stick around when he wakes up. They're not perfect, and they miss it sometimes. They come on suddenly and fast if he's been crying, or if it rains. Sometimes he gets good at hiding it. This one they just miss.

will is turned into a nine year old and keeps asking about his long dead siblings

the outline is huge im posting it separately and linking it here

Will wiggles his feet into falling apart, light-up Star Wars shoes, stomping them once to check that they work and grinning when they do. "Where's Lee, anyway? He's supposed to work mornings so he can do archery in the afternoons." He looks up, hands on his hips in a pose Nico recognizes, intimately; a pose that says I am about to reveal information I gleaned from being a diary-reading little snot and I'm cute so I'm gonna get away with it too. He says: "Allegedly it's because the range is less crowded in the afternoon but the real reason is because his boyfriend said one time that he looks regal in full sun. So." He looks out to the gathered gaggle of them, beaming. The silence rings louder than a mausoleum. No one speaks. "Oooookay," Will says, rocking back on his heels. "Michael, then? Where is everybody?" It is Annabeth, finally, who thinks quickly. "They're on a quest," she blurts. She clears her throat, looking away. "Uh, brand new. As of yesterday." Will tilts his head. "All twelve of them? I thought the rule was three." "...They're going on four separate questions." "Oh, okay. How come I wasn't allowed to go?" "Well, on account of you being nine." "Aw."

the one story where will has a ptsd episode in front of the entire camp and percy as the only one who recognizes it for what it is helps him through it.

another big outliner posted here

They're a lot, mostly. Enough that there is no one looking when a couple giggling Hermes kids load a whole watermelon into a half-rigged trebuchet. There is no one looking when it sails across the sky, thundering through the air; there are a few people looking, when it cracks clean across the ground, showering onlookers in a sea of red. But there are a lot of things sailing through the sky. Some more prudent than others. (Someone gets brisket-ed. That someone, coincidentally, begins their lifelong commitment to veganism.) There is no one looking when Will Solace freezes. There is no one looking when he stands, blank, to steady feet, and walks slowly across the warzone, miraculously safe from cakes and breads and fruits at all kinds of speeds. There is no one looking when he kneels, hemline stained crimson, in the wreck of the stone floor. There is no one looking when he pieces the chunks of jagged green rind in his hands, and starts to sing.

nico raising lee and michael's ghosts to make them give permission for will to get divorced.

this is so funny i’m so mad at past me for never writing it fully. will’s older siblings (read: lee and michael) convinced him that since this was an ancient greek camp they had to follow the ancient greek rules. and children had to get married before they were ten or they’d have to marry mr d. and will was CRYING about it terrified so he went and got married to cecil with like the ancient oaths and stuff so that he didn’t have to marry mr d, and when his siblings found out there were like oh fuck 💀 but like what are you going to do. unmarry them. so nico asks will out years later and will is like i. i want to say yes so badly. but unfortunately we’re going to half to get my husbands permission first. and nico is like your WHAT and will is like IM SORRY IM SORRY ITS SO STUPID BUT I DONT WANT TO PISS OFF HERA. IM SORRY. MY FUCKING BROTHERS WERE SO STUPID. lol.

“Oh, Nico.” The small smile drops completely from Nico’s face. Blood curdles in his veins, it feels, going sour at Will’s wide, round eyes; identical to his dropped open mouth, parallel to his arched brows. Rings of pity. Nico tries, barrenly, to mitigate the damage. He searches the blind-white plains of his mind for an escape, for an excuse; for a waved hand and laughter, for a quiet, dignified nod, for an easy shrug and a sharply turned heel. Instead the inside of his skull scrapes hollow, echoing the swelling pound of his chest, and his eyes burn hotter, hotter, hotter. “Nico.” The misplaced distress in Will’s voice is intolerable. I am so sorry, it says. I didn’t know you felt that way. Nico can feel the bricks rapidly laying in the space between them, thick and heavy and blocky, carved with don’t worry about it and of course we can still be friends. He saves them the trouble and stumbles backwards, away from Will’s outstretched hands, strangled flowers scattering on the splintered roots between them. “Nico, hold on –” The new air between them is cold enough to sting his face, and Nico uses it to propel himself into motion, stumbling backwards and flinging himself through the trees, through the shadows of them. Will follows quickly, still shouting, but Nico knows the forest better than he does and Will’s a klutz. Every other word gets cut off by a yelp, by the sound of branches snapping and dryad cursing, by frantic, distracted apologising. “Nico, you fucking jackass, hold on a second! Let me – speak, godsdammit!” Not a half chance in Hell, except for the genuine anger in Will’s voice. Worry, he could understand – it is in Will’s nature to worry. About Nico especially, he has found. Guilt, even more likely; pity obviously. But anger confuses him. He hunches in the shadow of an old pine tree, half-shroud in its bending needles. Will runs right by him, needles catching in his frizzing hair, slowing to a stop in a burst of sunlight. “Feel free to help me fix this!” he shouts, face turned at the sky. Immediately, several thick clouds are almost dragged over to hide the sun, an astounding act of paternal bravery to which Will responds with several choice words about child support and two stark middle fingers. “Thanks a lot!” “You’re going to get smited,” Nico croaks. The state of his own voice startles him almost as much as Will, who jumps three clean feet in the air and would have twisted his ankle on the way back down were his bones not blessed with holy grace. "Nico!" he cries, dashing over. "Nico, my brothers were fucking stupid!" Nico pauses. He blinks. He swallows, glassy eyes drying. "Huh," he says, eloquently.

trans girl will.

in a hecate cabin mix-up, will gets turned into a girl. a few things are noticeable to nico: 1) will is very, very pretty. 2) his face falls, perceptibly, when well-meaning friends insist that regardless of what he looks like he is still the will they know and love and they should refer to him as such. 3) clarisse, stubbornly, refuses this. 4) will does not avoid her. 5) will does avoid nico. nico intends to get to the bottom of what is going on with his boyfriend. girlfriend. partner. maybe.

...brushing by Clarisse as he walked by. She caught him by the wrist, and he stopped, waiting. Even that was almost impossible to see from this angle. Clarisse looked at him firmly. “Don’t look at me like that, girl. I can play the villain.” “I know.” Will hesitated. “Thank you.” She nodded, and Will scampered off, ducking around the back of the pavilion and disappearing into the Big House. Nico watched closely. When Clarisse caught his eye, she snarled at him. Something was definitely up.

will’s garden of grief.

after the massacre of Every fucking one of his siblings will just went silent. totally mute, wouldn't speak a word. walked around camp like a ghost. and like. it's not that no one noticed it's just that Everyone was grieving right. no one was very attentive of everyone else. you were working thru ur own shit. chiron, tho, who is Millenia old and is unfortunately very practiced at grieving, did his best to help. by which i mean he kept naomi informed when she asked, because when she called her son he would just sit there. so i like to imagine around october naomi got tired and picked him up. drove him to the town they grew up. but not only is he silent hes Angry. and its obvious. he's stiff and miserable and fights but is impossible to fight with because he Wont Fucking Speak and hes thirteen years old so what is she supposed to do? honestly? hes thirteen and his eyes look thirty two. hes haunted. so she sends him to her parents. now naomi is no longer close with her parents. never could be after they kicked her out. will isnt much close to them either, but they love him, and theyve always wanted a relationship with him, even if its strained. so he gets booted off to their ranch and naomi cant tell if hes mad about it or just at the world. she doesnt go with. she stays home with di and cries a lot because she knew some of those kids, too, they wrote her letters, and shes grieving in her own way. in some ways she lost her son. and in his year at the ranch will learns to…live with his grief? kind of? its just work. day in day out. his grandparents care for him but they dont quite know how, so its not like hess talking about his feelings, not like theyd know what to say if he started. he just wakes at dawn and works til twilight. apollo comes to visit him once. grandparents dont know what to do. direct him to the stables will is cleaning. and apollo just sits. will keeps working. they dont say anything. will is furious with him and apollo knows it. apollo is weeping. hes grieving too. when will finally looks over at the end of the day the sun is setting. and apollo is gone. but there are packets of seeds where he was sitting. and will whips them at the fucking wall in fury. how dare he? thats what his siblings are worth? seeds? new growth? get fucked, apollo. get fucked all the way down. how dare you cry. but few days past and those seeds start growing. theyre no normal plants. not really. they glow, and they dont die. there's something odd about them. the animals are intrigued, but wont eat em. snakes and mice sit quietly together among the growing stalks. will's grandpa builds a fence around them. just to keep the horses from tramplin' 'em. they don't tend to, but it cant hurt. they're pretty to look at any way. slowly will comes to sit with them. and then to care for them. and slowly, he starts planting his own next to them. bay tree for michael. borage for diana. carnation for cass. chamomile for lee. flowers for all his siblings, every one, and then it keeps going, he keeps planting; moonlace for bianca, oak for beckendorf. he is obsessed. he spends all day in that garden. he barely sleeps. he barely eats. he passes out in the moonlight, in between the carnations. he heals in that garden. sobbing into his hands. one day he brings nico there. shows him the moonlace.

"Will. Say something, to me." There is nothing but the labored edge of his breathing. Even that is near soundless, muffled as it is; the phone is off the receiver and dangling halfway to the floor, she knows it is. She can picture him, leaned against the cracking office chair, blue eyes blank, connecting dots in the popcorned ceiling. Hands limp at his sides. Still. "Will," she begs, again, and tries not to cry. "Will, baby."

michael's videos.

everyone in the infirmary cus it’s a rainy day and they’re bored and they go to turn on the ancient vcr player and it starts playing a home video michael made. will drops what he's doing and half-walks half-crawls over to the tv, hairs on his fingers raising as they brush the screen. everyone watches with held breath, as they see and hear the thousands of different ways will was loved, will was taken care of.

“Will, I’m bored.” Nico will never say it to his boyfriend’s face. He’s smarter than that. But gods above, is it fucking funny watching his eyes twitch. In Will’s defense he is of course justified. He has been nagged all morning and afternoon. In fact, most of the brats whining at him in the infirmary probably don’t even need to be here — it’s just cold and rainy, grey and sad, and the infirmary is light and warm and sweet-smelling. If Nico had to listen to thirty complaining demigods waste his time for upwards of six hours, he’d lose his shit too. But he’s not the one with a saviour complex, so he gets to enjoy the several deep, calming breaths Will takes, sniggering into his DS. He gets to enjoy Will's eye twitching as he slaps a smile on his face, visibly shoving down the murderous urges. “The really cool thing about me not being your mom,” Will begins, voice carefully measured, “is that your boredom is not my problem.” “But Wi-ill!” “Fucksake, Cecil, fling a pen at someone! Count to three-hundred thousand! Hold your breath until you pass out, I dunno. But let. Me. Work.” He stands for a moment, glaring, then stomps off to the nurse's station muttering to himself, slamming a bunch of vials and jars onto the counter. Nico starts to feel a little bad. But then the complaining starts up again, and it is hard not to laugh. Four people whine in tandem: “But you’ve been working all daaaaaayyyyy!” "You're boring," Gracie adds, sticking her tongue out at her brother. “That one actually is your problem,” Nico points out. He ducks back down behind his DS when Will whips around to face him, betrayed, biting back his grin. Will's glare goes nowhere. “Just saying.” “How about I punt you into the sun, di Angelo. Gods. You heal a guy outta the goodness of your heart.” The thing about Will, though, as much as he huffs and rolls his eyes, is that he does, in fact, care, and people’s discomfort does, in fact, bother him, even though it shouldn’t and he should probably spend less time going out of his way. Whatever. He’ll learn. Now, though, he stomps over to a forgotten corner opposite to the door and drags out the most ancient TV Nico has maybe ever seen, which is saying something because his family actually owned one of the first TV sets to ever hit Italy, and shoves it towards the middle of the room, because he hasn’t learnt, and probably won’t. “Woah.” Kayla blinks. “Where’d that beast come from?” "Dude." Will blinks right back at her, aghast. “It’s, like…been here.” “It has?!” “The whole time, Kayla.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “How many shifts have you worked in this building, again?” “Oh, shut up. Like you can name every single thing that exists collecting dust in this place.” “I can so! I clean it!” “Sure, Jan. The four inches of dust on the VCR play — gods, the VCR player, that’s fucking crazy — say otherwise.”

mortal diner au w hot goth drifter nico and absolutely whipped gone for him immediately waiter will.

will is working the diner easter somethin cus there’s no school and he’s finally old enough to get paid on paper (14). nico comes in, he’s 16, with his own car (pickup truck) and a job to do in town (tile the pastors backyard). will brings him his order and sticks, endlessly curious. nico is blunt but perhaps amused. every year nico comes on the same day to do the same job. he’s been emancipated since the day he turned sixteen and doing odd labour jobs, tiling mostly, all around the south. he reads in his spare time. and he writes will letters, to which he tries to reply but never knows where nico is so nico only ever gets them when he’s in the state with his p.o. box. every time he’s there he and will hang out for longer and longer. earlier when will is fifteen and it’s nico second visit he comes broken. scarred up hands from a year of working and a broken bone that ain’t healed right. will quietly has him come back to his and helps heal him up. THIS is the first time nico stays a while, but he gets spooked and leaves a little early. he sends a letter, though, to thank him, and will sends it back, and di grumps when she notices. comments on what shes heard about who will is writing letters to damn near every day and he should watch himself. naomi tells her its harmless and she had her puppy crushes too. di reminds her that this boy will is obsessed with is a deviant with an eyebrow piercing. and must she forget that the her puppy crushes on boys with eyebrow piercings is the reason will exists. and naomi has nothing to say to that but helps will smuggle his letters out when he needs to.

when will is seventeen he and nico spend The Night together, wherein they sleep together. this is after day after day after day of letters, and the rest of the day hanging out. clear for the first time that nico is serious about him. will is wide eyed and desperately desperately happy. will waits and waits the next year. eighteenth birthday comes and goes. college is right on the horizon and nico won’t know where he is. he plays with the defer sememser button, unsure. but nico finds him, the last sunday before september. wills stuff is already packed, he’s washing tablecloths. he hears nicos truck rumble and sprints out so fast nico damn near hits him, throwing open the already unlocked passenger door and pressing nico against the window, kissing him. he runs back in to write a note and jumps back in, and they drive into the sunset. based on the song suds in the bucket.

"Trucker?" asks Lou Ellen, voice tinny over the landline speaker. Will hums, leanin' over the counter. "Contractor, I think. Tools in the back." "What kind?" "Contraptions, Lou, I dunno. Cutter, maybe. Blade'a some kind. One'a them -- mixer, thingies? Lotsa buckets." "Someone gettin' a pool in, maybe?" "Could be. Could be." Will's doodled-on homework slips to the sticky floors, facedown. He doesn't notice, busy reachin' up to his tiptoes tryna see 'round the cracked-open door. The engine finally kills, but the lights stay flicked on, spotlightin' a table in the far back corner that has yet to be cleared from its patrons this morning. "Betcha he's forty. Divorced, drifting 'round with nothin' to do on the holidays. Baldin'." "He's not baldin'," Will argues, laughin'. "You guess every man is baldin'!" "'Cause each one'a them is!" "Naw." Will flicks his eyes over to the clock, bitin' his lip. "Betcha he's cute." "Oh, you think he's cute. Shocker. Betcha he's short." "What, 'cause he's in a truck? He's a contractor, Lou." "Truck raised?" "...Yeah." "He's short. He's short and forty and divorced and will leave you a quarter for a tip, if any. Stop lookin' right now." "Well, I gotta feed 'im." "Yeah, pie. Put them other thoughts away." Will ducks his head to muffle his snort. He has no other thoughts -- well, not really -- but it's fun to rile her up. "Whatever you s --" The lights flick off, front door shovin' open. Will jerks his head up, eyes wide -- "Is he out? Is he short? Tell me he's short!" -- and leans so far over to follow the black boot that follows that he tumbles right over the counter and joins his textbook, shrieking. The poor landline clatters to the floor, cuttin' Lou's every other word. "Will -- what -- you -- okay -- murderer??? -- I'm --" He rushes to stand, managing to dust himself off just as the man pushes the creaky door open wide enough to walk in, glancing up at the bell-less frame. "Huh," he says. It's a boy. Or -- a teen, rather.

mortal au but it’s not actually mortal is it ft. slowly dawning horror and amnesia.

nico wakes up to nothing on his phone but one contact labelled ‘will texas’. cannot remember anything else. and is like well. shit. and calls going “are you — will texas?” and will laughs out loud he’s like well technically! who are you? what do you need.

and they meet up and it turns out nico had amnesia and has maybe been a victim of some kind of robbery?? or something. so will, the youngest doctor in the state — made headlines and everything — takes him to work to get him checked out. they even stay together, because will recognises him: they dated, for a little, in their late teens. the gag is they fall slowly in love. roommates to lovers kinda deal. but they also fall slowly into realisinf something is Wrong (the real will and nico have been cursed by a god to slip into a dream realm when they’re out fighting them or something, except they’re so down bad and so in tune with each other that they fall into the SAME DREAM and get each other out without realizing).

Nico jerks awake on a bus. Which feels — wrong.

teacher au

will was a paediatric nurse who noticed a lot of the long term care kids were falling severely behind and spent most of his shifts tutoring them, realised he loved teaching and went into that, where he met nico -- the band teacher ('failed' music prodigy, who ran from the practice when his sister was killed and has not been in contact with his father for years). (fair warning this one is gonna be set in. toronto. bc thats what i know. lol.)

The building is old. Run-down. Will waits, outside the doors with the broken windows. He is -- certified, still, technically. His friends tell him the hospital remains short-staffed in the two years he's been gone. He could go back, right now. Turn around. They'd take him. He inhales, squaring his shoulders. He forgets to exhale and sways a little. This does not bode well. He taps his fob on the scanner beside the doorbell and manages to walk inside without tripping.

retelling of canon from BoO

slight divergence where everything is mostly the same except the entire time nico can see the ghosts of lee and michael hovering over will's shoulders, accidentally clouding him from the sun.

There isn’t enough time to clear a cot. Will barrels in their direction almost faster than Nico can see, sliding to a spot on a clear spot on the grass, right before they drop him. There is blood everywhere. Pooling. The gets heavy. Like a ringing in his ears, Nico starts to hear strings. “Hear that?” murmurs Michael, grinning. He nods over at Will, where he is muttering, where he is shifting. The strings play louder, and louder. “That’s the violins.” Lee nods. “They play in his head.” There is a background of cello, Nico things, every two beats; arpeggioing over ever half-note, over every minor second. Paolo moans, and the music swells. Enveloped in green, in golden, Will slams his hands to the ground. In a perfect circle around them, extending to the edge of onlookers’ toes, grass dies — bees stop hovering, dropping like stones before melting into the ground, disappearing with the dandelions into the packed earth. Will inches closer to Paolo’s prone, bleeding form, waving a white-hot hand from skull to knees, breathing heavy. Nico kneels to the ground, slowly. He presses his hands over the soft grass, and exhales, closing his eyes: he winced at the onslaught of noise, of rapidly birthing and dying spirits singing so high they screech, scrabbling over each other for a spot, for a moment of touch to the solid ground. He pushes, slowly, as far as he can outwards, past the song of snake and slug, cell and skeleton; he extends his reach to the firm line of Will’s circle and pushes through the hardened ground. It is silent. His eyes fly open. “Sterile,” he breathes, mouth falling open. “It’s sterile.” “As a wine barrel,” Michael confirms, grinning. “Ah, yes. The yeast-addled wine barrel. Famously free of microbial life.” “Fine. Whisky barrel.” The archer turns to his brother, scowling, and punches him on his blood-spattered shoulder. “Man, you ruin all my fuckin’ metaphors. Sterile as a whiskey barrel. Sounds like shit. Asshole.” Lee grins through the broken V of his mouth, unrepentant. “Not my fault your metaphors are dogshit.” He shifts to put his crushed eyes in Nico’s direction, skull-pierced eyebrows wagging. “The music is getting louder. Something big is going to happen — keep an eye on the sky.” Nico glances up, dutifully, and indeed the few clouds are churning: they’ve circled, now, in the dead centre above them, previously powder-white cumuli darkening something serious. Nico hears muttering again and drops his gaze back down to watch it, to watch Will slow the blood flowing from Paulo’s stubs, watch him hold a hovering, heated hand over the rapid rise-and-fall of his chest, two waving lines extending from his thumb and pinky to circle around the protruding bone. He can understand it, for the first time, Nico realises. His muttering as he heals. Gravelly and under-his-breath, the koine Greek travels neatly to Lee and Michael’s waiting ears, echoey like weeping along the Styx. Lee, whispers the voice, tickling Nico’s cochlea, what do I do? Lee steps forward, humming. His cracked fingernails are gentle on the heated skin of Will’s neck. “Well,” he murmurs, squeezing his shoulders, “what can you do?” “Enabler,” Michael snorts, nudging Nico’s elbow. “He’s gonna get him smited.” The violins slow, and Will’s breathing follows. He closes his eyes for a half of a second, leaning into Lee’s touch. “Arms,” he orders, in English. Lee floats back. Several onlookers shift nervously. “Will —” “Arms.” Annabeth passes them over, shaking. He lines them up below both stumps, turning them carefully, and exhales, quick and sharp; when his closed eyes open again, they are nothing but sockets of pure light, glowing with every breath, pulsing along with every measure, with every intensifying bow.

no gaia au where a few years post Battle of Manhattan

nico is streaming a video game and gets attacked mid-game but the goddess he’s fighting sends him back in time as a final effort to beat him. it works, landing him in medieval europe, but he manages to keep his stream somehow. in his quest to get his ass back to the future and stay alive in this wack ass place where no one washes their hands he meets the town apothecary, will solace, who everyone thinks is insane and who, as a seer of the future, believes nico’s story immediately. nico takes him back to the modern world with him when he finally makes it back.

He panics and it is stupid, it is, because he is still a fucking demigod even though he is a demigod 500 years ago. He can fight. He can handle himself. He can shadow-travel wherever the fuck he pleases, for Hades' sake. But he's also human, with a human brain. And human brains have evolved very little since they were invented a hundred thousand years ago so when he gets chased with actual pitchforks and torches the part of his brain that can do calculus or whatever ceases functioning, and the bigger part of his brain that has been around since lizard times goes gronk should leave. And Nico, who is no greater than the stone age man clubbin' about in his noggin, leaves. At great speeds. He runs, is what he is trying to say. And shrieks a little. The mob is big, okay. There are like. Ninety people. And none of them can be hurt by his sword.

nico and will sending each other constant letters

nico leaves for a long mission for his dad in the underworld. will is convinced they were about to kiss goodbye but nico got spooked and is Furious and Blushy about it. few days later he gets a letter and ends up More Furious and Blushy. the fic gets both mellower (in terms of will's attitude) and more desperate as their letters get more poetic and yearning in nico's absence and will really, truly starts to miss his best friend. i haven't figured out how to end it yet i just Really want to write their letters.

And Will screamed his frustration so loud the camper jumped out of his skin, squeaking out an excuse, and walked quickly off, which was just as well because Will doubted he could be very much help when he was so busy stomping back to his cabin, burying his face in his pillow, and screeching until his voice went hoarse. "Fucking boys!" he shouted. Lou Ellen, in his cabin for some reason, flipped a page of her magazine, snorting. "Hear, hear." And that was that. -- -- -- Except that wasn't that. Because Nico sends him letters. "I don't get any of those," Percy observes , peeking over his shoulder. Will slams the paper to his chest. shoves his face away, and storms off, face burning. "Maybe because you are a tool," he mutters darkly, and flushes worse when he does not mutter at all, and Annabeth laughs so hard she chokes. He ducks into the stables and presses his steaming forehead to the wood, eyes squeezed shut, letter clutched to his chest as he waits out Annabeth's wheezing, Percy's hurt mumbling. "I'm not a tool, am I?" "Oh my gods I am going to pass out." Once she reassures him, giggling, and drags him off Somewhere Else, Will peeks out. There is Clovis, curled up on the ground, but he is out cold. There is Miranda, a little ways away, tending to an olive tree, but she minds her own business. There is Connor, rigging...something, but that is okay. Will knows his pressure points. He exhales, willing the heat away from his face. It doesn't work. He sits down in Guido the Pegasus's stall, anyway, shooting him a small smile in greeting, and smooths out the letter on his thigh. It reads:

vampire nico x witch will. outline & snippet here.

nico bringing will ancient fancy daggers. outline & snippet here.

frank eating disorder fic outline here.

i wrote these ones down but i cant remember what my idea was for the fuckin life of me so:

will's burn scars & abilities exploration ft. post- toa apollo.

the seer will mortal au.

that one little will pov piece from vampire money.

time loop fic where will wakes up every day as an eight year old, in his first year of camp, with all his siblings alive. every day it gets harder and harder to try and get out — it’s just so safe there, and he is surrounded by everyone who he failed in the present. to get back to the present he has to let go of the past. (i remember this one i just dont have a lot to say about it rn ill come back to it later)

royal au long story (i.e. from the beginning) (i didn't forget this one either but i can't find my fucking outline so i'll come back when i do find it)

nsfw list here

remaining (i think) 100 ways:

“No, no, it’s my treat.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Watch your step.”

“It’s not heavy. I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Look both ways.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Drive safely.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“One more chapter.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“That’s okay, I bought two.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I picked these for you.”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“Did you get my letter?”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Have fun.”

“I made reservations.”

"I don't mind."

“I’ll pick it up after work.”

“I’ll help you study.”

“I did the dishes.”

“You didn’t have to ask.”

“I bought you a ticket.”

“I’ll meet you halfway.”

“We can share.”

“Do you want to come too?”

“I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

“Is your seatbelt on?”

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I believe in you.”

“You can do it.”

“Good luck.”

“I brought you an umbrella.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“Be careful.”

#lots a shit on here damn #anyways. enjoy #longpost

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notyourhetloki · 10 months ago

Text

freak (Logan x Wade)

/NSFW Logan x Wade/

A/N: Hey theree! This one's a personal project of mine, I'm actually really proud of it and I hope you guys enjoy! It isn't a x reader like I usually write, but I wanted to try something new ;) I love these guys so much ughhh

Tags: nasty porn tbh, rough sex, anal, unprotected sex, bottom!Wade, top!Logan, Wolvie is feral and Wade is really into it, blood, pain play, a bit of feelings (especially in the end :3).

Word Count: 2.7k

—

It is a well-known fact that Wade Wilson doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up. His non-stop banter would take him places he wouldn't go with a gun (but he always brought one just in case), and many times would make him end up in a fight. His Wolverine, on the other hand, appreciated silence.

Logan Howlett was mostly a quiet man, pondering to himself most of the time. He could make a sassy commentary here and there, but in the end, he thrived in introspection.

He knew moving in with Wade would be a challenge, but deep down he liked having his company. He would never admit it, but Wade made the effort to understand him that many people didn't care to make, and Logan valued that... that and the always-present sexual tension between them.

But that doesn't mean Wade wouldn't get on his nerves. The younger man was a shit-talker and a joker, never missing a reference and definitely never missing a chance to comment on what Logan was doing... especially if that meant teasing him.

You see, Logan had a 'bad' habit of scratching himself when he had an itch. Sounds normal, right? It would be... if he didn't do it with his claws.

The first time Wade saw Logan using his claws to scratch his arm, he didn't miss a beat and immediately mocked him about it.

"Got an itch, kitty cat? Be careful ther-"

"I know what the fuck I'm doing." Retorted Logan, already irritated at his roommate.

The second time it happened, Wade witnessed Logan scratching his chin. It was too funny to not point it out, so of course he had to say something. "Trying to shave yourself this time? May I present you to a little gadget called Gillette?"

Logan didn't respond, only glared at him in annoyance.

But the third time... that was when things escalated. Logan was sitting on the couch, manspreading while using his claws to scratch his crotch. It was quick, but of course Wade noticed it. Wade's mouth was left agape at the sight, shocked and amused at the same time.

"Ok... you definitely outdid yourself this time, friend. Thank God for your adamantium balls." He teased while laughing, standing right in front of his target.

"Shut up." Said Logan in a huff, averting his eyes.

"No, really! Like, that was badass! Scratching your ballsack with three super-sharp blades? You're a freak."

Logan momentarily froze at that word, slowly getting up from the sofa and getting close to Wade so he could intimidate him. "Come again?"

"You're a... freak? Just like me, mutton chops. We're both freaks." Wade tried justifying, but to no avail.

"I'm no freak, pal. Call yourself what you want, but don't drag me into it." Logan pointed a finger to the other man's chest, poking him to make his point.

Wade suddenly felt self-conscious for once and realized... Logan probably had a history with that word, and it was definitely not a good one. He quickly recovered and tried explaining himself to him. "Noo, you don't get it... freak is a good thing! The youths say it all the time, it's a slang!"

"I don't care what the youths say, I'm not buying it." Logan protested.

"I say this with love, Wolvie... I get it. But after all, there's nothing wrong with being a freak. Isn't that the whole X-Men premise?"

Logan thought for a moment and realized Wade was right. The X-men taught him to not be ashamed of himself, to not let anyone dictate who he was. But words still had meaning and maybe he could resignify them, empower himself and recognize... maybe he was a bit freakish.

He looked Wade up and down before distancing himself slightly. The realization only made Logan even more aware of the fact Wade wanted to connect with him... and he found that extremely endearing.

That attraction grew with every passing day, like an unwanted visitor, a tumor... gnawing at his chest and consuming every thought he had. He wanted Wade with an intensity he could only describe as needy, feelings getting too loud to ignore.

"Maybe you're right..." Logan admitted, finally making eye contact. Wade smiled sweetly as he crossed his arms, giving his roommate a look that made his breath falter.

Logan hadn't noticed Wade's appearance up to that point, he was wearing shorts and a plain white T-shirt. Wade was showing a lot of his scarred skin in that outfit, and Logan couldn't help but stare... a known heat growing in his belly from the tension rising in the room.

Tension that grew bigger when Wade slightly turned his head sideways, observing Logan's eyes roaming through his body. Logan knew Wade knew, and that only made things worse.

“You know what? I think we match each other’s freak, munchkin.” Breaking the silence, Wade made an effort to maintain eye contact, arms still crossed in a bratty way.

“You sure about that?" Logan licked his lips and also turned his head like a puppy, keeping Wade in his place with his stare.

“Yep! But in reality, I don’t think you could handle my freak, peanut.” Wade tried teasing, feeling his body warm up with anticipation.

Logan scoffed with a laugh, turning to walk away. "Yeah, right."

“But I’m sure you could try!” Desperately said Wade in an effort to keep Logan close... and it worked.

Logan turned towards him and slowly walked in Wade's direction, who had to walk backwards so they wouldn't collide. When Wade's back hit a wall, Logan finally spoke as he got inches close to his face. "And why would I do that?”

They were close enough to breathe each other's air, smell each other's scent and look at their own reflection in each other's eyes. Their hearts were beating fast, and no rational thought could deny what they felt at that moment. It was pure raw tension, a build-up that took ages to finally reach its peak.

“Because it would be fun! And because… I really really want you to.” Wade's voice got serious at that last part and made shivers run down Logan's spine. Was he being honest? Did Wade want Logan as much as Logan wanted him?

He didn't have time to think before acting on impulse, staring at Wade's lips for only a moment before grabbing him by the T-shirt and kissing him hard. Wade immediately reciprocated, tongues meeting halfway while his hands moved to Logan's face.

One of Logan's hands still grabbed Wade's shirt while the other traveled to his waist, pulling him even closer. They kissed roughly and quickly, as if they had wasted so much time. Logan bit on Wade's lip and grunted as the other man moaned in response to the pain, ecstatic with the waves of pleasure that the bite provided.

Logan could taste Wade's blood in his mouth and that only made him hornier, a sudden need for violence and sex that he knew only Wade could handle.

"I wanna hurt you... real bad." Logan groaned at Wade's bruised lips, looking into his eyes while strongly holding him by the waist.

"Show me what you got, babe." Wade was enthusiastic, ready and really horny. Nothing could take that away from him at that moment, and a little bit (or a lot) of pain was definitely a plus in his mind.

Logan's eyes grew darker as he helped Wade take his shirt off before taking his own as well. They both stared at each other's chests before roaming their hands, exploring... it felt electric and so so good.

When he couldn't hold back anymore, he lowered his head to bite on Wade's shoulder, teeth tearing flesh and drawing blood while Wade hissed in pain with his eyes tightly closed. Logan realized he couldn't stop, biting and marking Wade's already scarred skin like he was a hungry dog while the other man clung to him to anchor himself.

Logan’s heightened sense of smell could usually capture people’s fear and anxiety, but Wade didn’t exude that particular scent, no… he was aroused. Logan could smell it coming out of his pores like his very own perfume, it was intoxicating and didn’t fail to drive him even further into his frenzy.

"You like that, huh?" He said between bites, sharp canines piercing rough skin and causing Wade to moan beautifully. "Fucking depraved."

They could feel their boners rubbing on each other as they moved and connected their groins together, their sensitive members absolutely desperate for more direct contact.

"Ha, if I'm depraved then what are you, Mr. Sadomasochist?" Wade's breathing was erratic as Logan abruptly turned him around and pinned him facing the wall, tearing his shorts and underwear with his half-exposed claws as he tried to remove them.

The claws lightly scratched his exposed ass, healing almost immediately as Logan squeezed the tender flesh. He spat on his fingers and promptly started massaging Wade's hole, easing in not-so-gently and fingering the younger man.

"Holy shit, Logan..." Wade's voice trembled as he felt his roommate's fingers in and out of him harshly, the burning sensation felt so good it made his dick throb in anticipation.

The sound of his name coming out of Wade's mouth was enough to wake something dark in him. Logan rarely heard the other man calling out his actual name, but when he did... it always managed to fuck him up.

"You're ready for me, bub?" Logan's deep hoarse voice vibrated into Wade's ear, a last act of gentleness before he knew things would get nasty.

"I was born ready." Wade softly affirmed, his cheek and hands pressed into the wall, bracing himself.

Logan lowered his sweatpants and his cock immediately sprung out as he removed his fingers from the other man. He spat on his hand again and stroked himself a few times before slowly entering Wade's ass until he was balls deep into him.

Wade couldn't see it, but he felt that Logan's cock was huge (just like he had imagined)... filling him up completely and hurting him in the best possible way. "Ah... fuck..." He couldn't stop cursing and moaning, his own dick already dripping with a bit of precum.

"Yeah... so fucking tight..." After Logan buried himself inside Wade for a bit, he finally started moving. It was inconsistent at first, out of rhythm, but soon he found a good hard pace that only got more urgent with every thrust. "I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna start seeing stars."

"Oh, God..." Was all Wade managed to say before one of Logan's hands traveled to his neck, squeezing his throat and choking him dizzy.

Logan's other hand grabbed so hard on Wade's waist that his fingertips dug into his skin, leaving bruises that he would definitely remember if it wasn't for his regeneration factor.

Wade arched his back even further at the feeling, matching and meeting Logan's movements causing the man to almost cry out at the sight.

He pulled Wade's hips towards him to meet his every thrust, fucking him like an animal while biting on the other man's ear. Logan grunted from pleasure, taking out all of his frustrations without having to feel guilty about it.

Wade was in pure bliss, getting railed by his super-hot roommate while being choked silly. He couldn't talk, but he could definitely still moan and make obscene noises while his neglected dick achingly throbbed. Logan was right, he was definitely seeing stars at that point.

The bites Wade received were constantly healing, but Logan opened the wounds repeatedly with his teeth while never stopping pounding into his ass. He let out animalistic sounds, feeling out of his mind as Wade squeezed around him and moaned loudly. Everything was so overwhelming but so damn good, he couldn't get enough.

Wade's sweet spot was being abused again and again with every thrust of Logan's cock, achingly getting hit by the member and causing electric pleasure to run through his body. Wade could feel his orgasm growing inside rapidly as Logan squeezed his neck tighter, biting his shoulders while snarling and cussing.

If he could talk at that moment, Wade would be saying "Fucking hell, please don't stop.", but all he could do was shake through his climax. He came untouched, strings of his cum shooting between the wall and his stomach while he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

Logan noticed the whole thing, not letting go of the other man as Wade's legs slightly turned to jelly. "Fuck, Wade..." was all he managed to speak through his ragged breath, still not stopping his hips from moving.

He stopped choking Wade and concentrated on holding the younger man's waist as he furiously rammed his hips forward, barely taking his member out before thrusting again... it was quick, dirty and messy. The slapping sounds their bodies made together only fed into his uncontrollable state, and of course, Wade's moans made him absolutely feral.

Logan was close, quickening up his already wild pace for one last moment before biting on Wade's shoulder again and coming inside him. He growled against Wade's skin as he closed his eyes shut, pleasure waves hitting him in a way he had never felt before.

They stayed in that position for a while, Wade's body flush against the wall as Logan leaned forward, now resting his mouth on the other man's shoulder. They breathed in and out deeply, exhausted and dumb from their respective highs as their bodies tingled with energy.

"Oh, wow... holy shit." Wade started giggling to himself, not believing what just had happened. "Are you alright, peanut?"

Logan inhaled and exhaled through his mouth, eyes still closed in an attempt to ground himself. "Yeah... I'm fine." He was more than fine, in fact, he couldn't remember a time when he felt so fucking satisfied... but of course, he would never admit it.

Logan opened his eyes slowly to see he was still inside Wade, so he slowly retracted himself and watched as cum dripped from his roommate's hole. It was then that he realized what had happened, and a wave of worry hit him like a brick. "Are... are you good, bub?" Logan's voice was serious, a hint of concern that Wade immediately picked up.

"Better than ever! But I appreciate the worry, sweetheart." Wade said, turning around to face the other man and raising his arms to rest on Logan's shoulders.

"I wasn't worried." Logan lied, not willing to give in so easily. He looked at Wade's shining hazel eyes and felt tightness in his chest, and in that moment he knew he had fucked up... he was down bad.

"Sure..." Wade's eyes were fixated on Logan's mouth, not being able to resist as he quickly made his way to kiss the man. That kiss was more tender, slow and sensual and full of feeling. Whatever Logan was repressing at that time came to the surface with such intensity it made him feel dizzy, holding tightly to Wade's waist and drawing him closer.

They kissed for a few good minutes before separating, still panting as they looked into each other's eyes. In a brief moment, Logan closed his eyes and decided to touch foreheads with Wade, who reciprocated the gesture gently.

"You're gonna make me fall for you, Wolvie." Wade whispered earnestly, petting the back of the man's hair. Logan purred at the sensation and felt his chest swell again with feelings he couldn't quite keep secret anymore.

He didn't want to be vulnerable, but honestly... he had tasted Wade's blood, fucked him silly and cummed inside him, maybe being a little vulnerable was only fair at that point.

"Good." Logan responded, opening his eyes at the same time Wade opened his. They looked at each other again, foreheads still touching while Logan drew circles on Wade's skin.

Wade smiled sweetly and Logan smiled back shyly before closing the gap again and kissing him gently.

Logan was never a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but if there's one conclusion he could take from that experience... it's that he and Wade were freaks, and freaks were meant to stick together.

—

#deadpool and wolverine #deadpool x wolverine #logan x wade #logan howlett #wade wilson #wolverine #deadpool #deadclaws #poolverine #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #headcanon #notyourhetloki

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