#Like suddenly I'd start feeling like a patch of skin on my arm or hand or leg or back was completely raw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tazlov · 22 days

Text

Viridian Mercy: Chapter 1

“...Hello…? Can you hear me…?”

I breathed in deep as my senses started to return to me. Something bright shone in my eyes; I shied away from it, turning my head with a groan.

“Can you tell me your name?”

The light went away suddenly, and a gentle hand guided my head upright again. I did not recognize the person tending to me, but they had the universal sign for medicine embroidered on their uniform.

“Hey, can you tell me your name?” They tried again to get me to focus.

I tried speaking, but coughed instead. This time I was good. “...Samantha Down.”

“Okay, good. Do you know where you are right now?”

I glanced around for clues. Nothing really came to me… there was a mask on my face, and little bugs crawling around my person. It was nighttime on this planet… last time I was awake, it was broad daylight.

How long was I out for? How long had I been dying?

“...Don’t know…” I eventually croaked out, trying to move away from this stranger.

“Alright. My name is Veth, I'm gonna be taking care of you, okay?” The medic strapped something to my arm, and waved someone else to join her. They worked together to hoist me onto what felt like a bed but I could only assume it was a stretcher, then hovered me to somewhere cooler and with less bugs.

In my delirium, I could only see shining lights and cold metal. This girl was kind of cute, though. It was only a passive thought as I stared at her… I wasn’t really myself at that moment.

“Doing okay, Samantha?” The medic tied a tourniquet onto my arm, found a vein, then swabbed the arm with a cold alcohol wipe.

“...Just Sam…” All I could think to say was correcting her on my name. I hated the name Samantha.

“Alright, Sam, you're gonna feel a little pinch.” And a pinch I felt. Didn't hurt that much, compared to how the rest of my body was feeling. Aching, bruises, maybe a broken bone somewhere.

I don't even remember how this happened. Or how the Viridian Alpha-Hotel team found me.

“Human female in her twenties, BP 90 over 75. Pulse 48. How are you feeling, Sam?” Clearly an attempt to keep me awake as the world drifted and blurred.

I tried my best to keep my eyes on her. But she definitely injected me with something. “...Fine.”

She smiled a little, looking confused. She glanced up at her partner. “...Pretty impressive.”

“Yeah,” the other one chuckled. “If that were me, I'd be crying on the floor right now.”

“...I'm good like that.” I smirked, attempting humor. It worked.

“Alright, Sam,” the medic refocused, untying the tourniquet and keeping an IV in my arm. “We're gonna take you somewhere safer.”

“Cool.”

“I want you to count down from ten for me, okay?” The medic found another needle, checking it for air bubbles before injecting it.

“...Okay. Ten… nine…”

I don't remember anything after that.

---

Viridian Alpha-Hotel were some pretty slick dudes, that was for sure. I was patched up in no time.

I woke up again in a small bed, somewhere sterile, somewhere white. Really white. Somehow my own skin didn’t even compare.

They decided to keep that girl near me, checking things like vitals and noting down my condition. She must have been a doctor on-call or something.

“Hi, Sam!” The medic looked up as my heart rate quickened, and it was detected on the monitor. She stood from her seat, setting aside her tablet. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty… pretty slow.” Slow was the right word. I felt more awake, but somewhat groggy, and everything else somehow moved faster than me.

“Any pain or numbness?”

“Hurts, yeah.” I tapped my left arm to my head, then my chest.

“You took a few hits in those places, yeah. Bruised up pretty good.” The medic nodded slowly, keeping her hands together out of politeness. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I… I think…” I closed my eyes, trying to sort through the fog. I took a few seconds. “...I got jumped by some wild animal. I'm good, you know, but I'm not that good. Killing tigers is way easier than whatever I killed.”

The medic nodded, collecting her tablet again to write down some notes. “So, Sam, it looks like you sustained some lacerations and deeper cuts that needed stitches, so we went ahead and did that. I wouldn't recommend going back to work anytime soon, at least for a couple of days until you've healed up.”

“...Eh.” I rolled my head to the side. “...It was a shit job anyway.”

“You…” the doctor paused for a second.

I decided to clarify. “I'm a privateer, actually. I take whatever odd jobs people give me. Shit like treasure hunting and studying animals and stuff like that.”

“Oh, I see. So you mean this job is not…”

“Not worth it, no.” I rolled my eyes. “Didn't pay me nothing, and for what? Getting my eyes gouged out by a giant dinosaur? Hell no.”

The doctor laughed at that, and wrote down something else. “Understood. Well, I'm going to let you rest for a while. If you need anything, just press that button over there.”

She stood up, and gestured to the button. I glanced at it, then decided I wouldn't use it. Too tough for that.

The doctor walked off now, sliding the glass door over, and made sure to keep the curtains closed before leaving. I was alone with myself, again…

…Running out of options.

Not like I was gonna be able to job search any time soon anyway.

---

“Miss Down?”

A new voice, deeper and masculine. I blinked awake from my nap… or perhaps it was already tomorrow. No windows in this place, so it was hard to tell without a clock.

I glanced around for the voice, and it came attached to this large-looking fellow, a familiar reptilian face. I was having a hard time placing his name, but judging by the dark green suit and luxurious tie, I figured he seemed important.

“Ah, I'm sorry to bother you…” he took a seat in the chair nearby. Tried keeping it casual. “...But I was just wondering if you would happen to be looking for work at some point soon.”

“N-now?” I sputtered, trying not to laugh. “Sir, respectfully, I just got my shit rocked.”

“I know! I know that.” He laughed a little, raising his hands. “I don't mean right this second. But when you've healed a bit, I mean.”

“Well…” I shrugged as best I could. “...I mean, I guess I'll need to look for work anyway… but it depends on the job.”

He laughed again, as if I had said something stupid. Even if I had, I was drugged up on dope and morphine. Can't exactly blame me.

“...My name is Re’lio D'varaas.” He took a second to properly introduce himself. “I’m one of the spokepeople of Viridian Corp.”

“Oh.” Now I understood. Dude was fishing for workers for his own company. I let out a sigh, and he caught that.

“I understand you may not be interested or, uh, you might be too out of sorts for a proper answer…” He shuffled around to find something in his pockets. “...But at the very least, I just wanted to chat about it. I'll give you my card…”

He finally found his card to contact, in a lustrous green with white writing on it. The card looked pretty cool, I had to admit that, at least. But I took offense to the fact that he was looking for workers in a goddamn hospital.

He must have sensed my annoyance. “...Miss Down—”

“Just Sam is fine.”

“Okay, Sam… they just happened to pull your record of jobs, and I happen to have access to those records. I came to you because your streak of finished jobs is near perfect, and the feedback you've gotten is astounding! I would just like to say, if you were interested, no interview would be required.” He gave a smile, with a lot of little pointy teeth. I always thought those were fun. “Just take some time to think about it, and if you want to join Viridian, just give me a call.”

“...Okay.” I brushed some of my hair around. Happened to bump into a sore spot. “...I'll let you know.”

“Fantastic. Get some rest now… and again, I'm sorry for the intrusion.” He stood up now, sorting all of his things, and gave me a little wave as he exited.

That was… really weird to me. I have never gotten a sudden job offer like that, especially at a hospital. But if he snooped around the way he did, and found my records, I suppose I would jump at the chance too.

I shone the card against the light of the room. A beautiful color, the edges tapered, and his name on the back.

Part of me wondered… what it would be like to work with that doctor.

I rolled my eyes, quickly dismissing the thought. There was no way I would be assigned to work with her anyway. Unless maybe I asked.

Ain't no way in hell am I doing that.

I placed the card onto the table next to me, and tried to quiet my thoughts until I fell asleep again.

#viridian mercy #writing #creative writing #oc #chapter 1 #lesbian #sci fi

6 notes · View notes

disticfiction · 2 years

Text

"Are you alright?" Milius asked as Cuthbert dragged himself across the floor.

"Oh, yes. Just tired. Taking care of a hungry baby without its mother is hard work." He rubbed the back of his neck, taking a deep, much needed breath. "I'm too old for this, Milius. I don't know what you see in me."

"We're not going to talk like that," Milius said, sternly. "You're not the only one feeling overwhelmed today. It isn't your age."

"Right, the refugees. I'm sorry. How are things looking out there?"

"Dire. We gave what food we could and things are finally starting to quiet down, but I think that's mostly because those poor people are exhausted. I have no right to complain in comparison." He smiled, suddenly, and stepped closer to cup the old man's chin. "But you do. I'd take food delivery over putting a baby to sleep any day of the week. Where is the little sprout?"

"In the pantry. It's better insulted. Keeps the sound out and the heat in, at least a little bit."

"Well, then. I guess we better keep it down." He leaned in and kissed Cuthbert's lips, and the old monk melted into his embrace before pulling away, abruptly.

"N-no, not tonight," he said, looking away. He was blushing, clearly aroused, but he denied himself. "Like I said, I'm too tired."

"Cuthbert?" Milius asked, sensing his conflict.

He sighed. "I can't ... do anything for you. Not tonight. My back, arms, and legs are all sore. I can barely move, Milius. It would be too one sided."

Milius smiled, warmly, then placed several soft kisses on the older man's neck as he pulled his collar down to his shoulder, exposing a patch of bare skin. Cuthbert moaned as he protested, but aside from grabbing the younger man's wrist, he didn't fight back. Tired or not, he wanted Milius. He wanted him to ravage him, kneading out the day's stresses, even if it was selfish.

"It's never one sided," Milius purred, and before Cuthbert could argue, slipped his hand between his legs.

Cuthbert groaned, quickly covering his mouth as Milius brushed two fingers over his sensitive clit. He was already wet, excited the moment his lover entered the kitchen, and Milius couldn't get enough of it. He watched as Cuthbert began to shiver, his tender nub puckering harder as the two digits relied on the friction. His robe was damp in places it wasn't meant to be, but Milius took advantage of that. As Cuthbert's knees instinctively spread, the younger monk attacked, forcing two fingers, wrapped in cloth, into Cuthbert's throbbing hole.

"Augh! Oh God!"

"Shh," Milius teased. "We don't want to wake the baby."

Cuthbert stumbled back, leaning against the counter as his crass, wool robe scratched his insides--and it felt wonderful. He was naturally loose, the result of decades of abuse, but whenever it was Milius, he clamped down, hard. It was different with him. It always had been. He grit his teeth, sweating profusely as Milius pushed to the knuckle, then began to pump.

"M-Milius..." the old man stuttered, his eyes heavy. "N-not so fast." It was maddening. He was barely stable, his hole pulsing defensively. "M-Milius, I mean it. I'll ... I'll cum!"

"That's that point," he giggled.

He pumped faster, deeper, twisting his fingers to make sure the material chafed Cuthbert in all the best ways, and it worked. After a few more thrusts, the old man whined, his toes curling and head arching back. His cries were airy and weak, but passionate, filled with distress; a distress that said his body had lost control, and that was perfect. His robe darkened even more, his fluids soaking through and drenching Milius' hand. Mercy. Finally. As he caught his breath, the younger man pulled out, giving Cuthbert a moment of peace before yanking the bunched up wad from inside him.

"Oh God, my hole!" he flinched, his muscles straining.

"Mmm, yes. Let's take a look, shall we?"

Playfully, Milius flipped the soiled robe over Cuthbert's legs and spread them wider, and what greeted him brought the upmost joy to his night. The older man's hole was red and convulsing, a tiny gape hiding beneath a strip of white pubes. His walls were terribly wrinkled, though neither monk was sure if that was because of his age or his sordid past, and his crease was permanently stretched, his folds distended. But as ruined and disgraceful as that cunt appeared, Milius loved every inch of it, inside and out. To him, it was beautiful. A work of art.

"P-please, don't stare..." Cuthbert blushed, his head spinning. "I hate it when you do that."

"I can't help it," Milius beamed. "It's just so ... devastated. I love watching your spasms. I love seeing how broken you are down here. And I love how, despite the damage, your hole is always praising me with those adorable winks. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"Milius, I--"

"You're a godsend, Cuthbert. Everything I want and more."

Cuthbert smiled, tears welling in his eyes. "Even though I'm so much older than you? Even though so many men have had me?"

"I don't see other men," Milius said, laying his lover back, comfortably. "I only see you."

"God, fuck me..." Cuthbert huffed. "Don't go easy on me."

"Oh, you want it hard?"

"Yes..." he rasped. "I won't last long, so make it count."

Millius grinned, then, without warning, stuffed his abnormally large cock inside, filling Cuthbert to the brim. The old man howled, the heat rushing through him at a breakneck speed, but luckily he didn't seem to wake the baby. He tried to be quieter as Milius rammed into him, bucking his hips and clutching his thighs, but it was pointless. Scream after bellowing scream tore through his throat, his hole raw and wrecked from the fingering.

"That's it," Milius puffed, his own pleasure warping his mind. "God, you're so tight."

"Augh! I ... I'm going to cum, but keep going!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Cuthbert--"

"Rape me!"

Milius obliged. He knew about Cuthbert's trauma, and he knew he liked to recreate it. It was the best thing for him, it seemed, and Milius refused to question it. He bashed into the old man's end, sending pangs of ecstasy barreling up his spine, until he threw his head back and wailed, his nerves crumbling. Yet Milius thrust through the violent orgasm, his chest heaving as his stomach smacked against Cuthbert's raging clit. It was too much for both of them.

"I'm close!" the younger monk warned, riding the aftershocks with wild fever. "Do you want it inside?"

"N-no!"

Milius knew what that meant. In this state, all of Cuthbert's nos were a yes. With a shimmering smile, he fucked him harder, deeper, making sure he felt it. Making sure he couldn't escape. He thrust so furiously the squishy, soggy sounds echoed outside, making Philip stop in his tracks. Curious, he put his ear up to the door, but his cheeks burned when he heard Cuthbert roar. His cries easily could've been mistaken for pain, if it wasn't obvious what they were up to--and it was obvious. Gulping loudly, Philip crossed his chest and ran back to the cathedral, regretting that he didn't mind his own business.

"Cuthbert?" Milius said, caressing his face. "Talk to me."

"Th-that's enough," he struggled to say.

That was real. Satisfied, Milius pulled out, his cock twitching, as his seed burst from Cuthbert's mangled hole and splashed the stones beneath them. His gape was worse now; an angry red, his spasms ruthless and intense. It felt so good. As he drifted off, Milius helped him stand for a split second, then laid him on the rug next to the stove, keeping him warm.

"Somehow, that baby stayed asleep," Milius said, wiping up the mess. "Maybe raising him won't be so difficult after all." He shrugged, biting his lip as Cuthbert squirmed from his touch. "Still, I'd like to move him to the cloister in a few months. Philip seems rather keen on raising him into the brotherhood."

"Y-yes..." Cuthbert panted. "I'm too old to raise a child, anyway."

"Not that again," Milius scoffed. "None of us were meant to raise a child. We're monks. This is the life we both wanted. No children, no marriage, just a life of pious devotion. You should be proud of what you've accomplished, and what you've overcome."

"Yes..." he wisped, barely coherent. "Give the baby to Philip. So we can k-keep doing this."

"Doing what?" Milius teased. "This?"

He shuffled closer and slid his tongue into Cuthbert's worn out gape, lapping up the rest of his semen. How cruel. Cuthbert cried out, but his voice didn't carry far, not now that he was on the verge of collapsing. For the third time, Milius, the man he loved, was inside him, finding places no one else ever had. No one ever could. No one ever took the time.

"Good God! M-Milius!"

He reached down, brushing back the younger man's hair, only to meet his fiery gaze. Yes, this is what he wanted, what they both wanted. It didn't matter to him how old Cuthbert was. It didn't matter if their time together would be shorter than that of most couples. It didn't matter that Kingsbridge was falling apart. Milius lived in the moment, and at that moment, his only world was Cuthbert.

8 notes · View notes

dayinthelifeofadragon · 1 year

Text

Day 1. Hatching Day.

My vision had gone black, the last thing I had saw was a car heading my direction at break neck speeds while I was crossing the road. I didn't feel much of anything. Only a loud *smack* and a ringing in my ears. White flashed before me and then darkness once more. I guess this is what death is like, just darkness and loneliness. Oh well, I was used to being alone in my thoughts. All I ever did was play games and sit inside all day. I wish I could of at least had friends to show up at my funeral.

I sat in the darkness a little while longer, the ringing had finally stopped, but suddenly I felt something. I could of sworn I had moved. Even if it was just a wiggle. I tried it again but this time with a little more effort. Once more I felt movement. That was until I felt something surrounding me. It was still pitch black around me, but if I concentrated on my arms, I could feel a hard shell like material surrounding me.

I could only put so much focus into my movements, but I continued to push forward and now kick. That is until I suddenly rolled forward. What the hell was going on here? In my frustration I put everything into one push. Uh oh. I began to roll forward at a faster speed. Frighteningly fast. I couldn't speak but I could feel my blood pumping. I closed my eyes and waited for it to stop and when I did I could feel the G-force leave my body for a brief second. *CRACK*

Oof. I hit something, hard. I wormed around for a minute trying to gain my bearings. I don't know what exactly happened but that crack couldn't of been good. Light began to assault my vision. I squinted in an attempt to block it, but it didn't do much. I started to work out of whatever it was that I was trapped in. Pushing the spherical object over my head, I feel forward with an oof.

Rubbing my face a little bit, I could feel that my body was off. My eyes were still getting used to the light. I continued to feel around my face and body. I felt weirdly malformed yet smooth. I pushed my lower half free and sat in bewilderment. Allowing my eyes to get accustomed to the sun, I saw that my hands were no longer hands, but rather claws! I fell backwards at the initial shock.

My skin had patches of scales, and the color was a light blue. My tummy, chest and underside of my hands, or rather, claws, were a grayish white. I felt an appendage from my back side swing suddenly. I whipped around to look, only to spin in a circle for a minute. What the hell am I?!

"You are a Baby Dragon, Level 1." A soft voice chimed in my head. I looked up and around frantically. Who are you!? Where am I?

"I am the Voice of God. You are currently in the Abandoned Forest."

I couldn't believe it. I'd lost my mind. That car must of really done a number on me, but surely I was going to wake up any moment now... Right?

| Authors Note | Hey there! I don't really know what I'm doing here but I wanted to practice writing, so I thought I'd come here! I hope you enjoy my short stories.

#short story #fiction #dragon #fantasy #adventure #Isekai

2 notes · View notes

artdecosupernova-writing · 1 year

Text

Fictober '20 Prompt No. 1 — "No, come back!"

Category: Original WIP: WASTE Rating: T Timeline: before the book, one of the many rough patches between Guetry and Oren CW: Emotional manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics, mention of drug use, etc. Word Count: 703 Additional Notes: ugh Oren makes my skin crawl

***

I felt like I was going to explode.

Oren continued to yell at me about something stupid, and he wasn't being overly nasty at the moment—not in a way I can't handle—but Alec's concerned warning rang through my mind over and over and I gritted my teeth against the urge to storm out of the room. I would've liked to quietly explain that my job requires me to leave without warning and that's not my fault, but again, Oren can't stop yelling and he looked unfocused and I got the feeling he was angry about something else entirely.

"You done yet?" I said, loud enough to stop him mid-sentence.

The glitter in Oren's near-black eyes almost turned to malice but thought better of it. "Not really, Guetry!"

"Correction: we're done."

I didn't realize I meant it in more than one way until I marched into Oren's bedroom and started gathering whatever of mine I could get my shaking hands on.

"…What the hell're you doin'," Oren groaned, shuffling after me. "What the fuck are you doing?"

My vision went blurry but I didn't feel like crying. There was nothing to cry about. Not yet, in any case. But relief swelled in my chest as I snatched two of my shirts off the hanger in the closet—and I should've realized that was my body's way of telling me to make this permanent, to ignore anything and everything Oren would try to throw at me to make me change my mind.

"Leaving." I can barely even think, I'm so furious. I have to say it again to prove to myself that I mean it. "I'm leaving, Altavian."

There's a pause and I glance over to Oren. He watched me, suddenly quiet, his hands in his pockets. He either wasn't worried or was a better actor than I gave him credit for.

He nodded and stepped away from the door.

I hesitated, then came back into the present to realize I had way too much shit and threw it into a pile on the floor. All cheap clothes I could easily replace. "Fuck this," I hissed, striding past Oren on my way to the front door. "Fuck this, and fuck you."

"Please don't go, garçon."

"Don't call me that," I growled. "Don't you ever call me that again!"

An odd change happened as I turned around at the door; Oren broke through whatever wall he'd originally decided to put up and now seemed genuinely distraught at the idea of me walking out of his apartment. He took a couple of steps after me but stopped. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you're right, I know you can't help being called out without warning but god damn it, garçon, I miss you! Is that a crime?!"

"You're a crime! You're a criminal, you sling shit that kills people, you ruined my fucking family—" I stopped as the words caught in my throat, and it all came tumbling down around me. Everything slapped me in the face. "I have no chance of being sober because of you!"

Instead of saying anything else, I whipped around and swiped the door panel to let me out.

"No!" Oren hurried after me. "Come back!"

"Why?!"

…I should've just run.

Oren grabbed the back of my head and kissed me.

He knows he's my biggest weakness. Even now, years after I'd last seen him. I'd like to think I'm stronger than all of that but he and I both know that if he tried to weasel his way into my life again I wouldn't be able to help myself. He's intoxicating and powerful and I just…I could never compete.

So I softened in his arms. I became malleable and I let him kiss me until I saw stars. I had no idea if he was really sorry or—scratch that, I knew and didn't care. I wasn't worth a damn.

"Come back inside," Oren whispered. "We can talk. No shouting. I'll hear you, every word. Okay?"

I fought him at first. I really did. Clarity had started to manifest into my brain, but a touch of the cheek, a squeeze of the shoulder, his charming smile...

Damn it. Damn it. The torment will never end.

#fp2 #WASTE #repost

2 notes · View notes

starlessea · 3 years

Text

Doctor’s Orders (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Prompt: “Why’d you always have to spoil my fun?” and “You nearly died!” Requested by anonymous, numbers #6 and #16 from this post.

Summary: Daryl isn’t too impressed when he finds you with a sling on your arm and a smile on your face.

Words: 1766

Warnings: Language, Injury.

There were many things you feared more than death. There were many things you feared in general. Whether it was heights or small spaces, or even spiders - those spooky, crawly bastards - you would easily admit it when you were afraid.

In this new world, death was inevitable. You didn't want to die; leaving your family behind was out of the question. Though, it didn’t frighten you, either. Rather, you often found yourself scared of the more mundane things - those things that you could control - over something that was completely out of your hands.

There were many things you feared more than death, and Daryl Dixon was one of them.

Denise had gone to get the man, despite your pleas not to. She'd been good enough to patch you up, and mend the small cuts over your skin. They were only shallow, so they wouldn't leave any scars. It was the sling you were more concerned about.

You knew when Daryl saw it, you'd be in for an ear-full. It wasn't that bad an injury, but Denise had still doped you up on some pain-killers before leaving to find the man. It was meant to be an in-and-out job, but things never really did seem to go as planned.

"Who're you trying to kill with that smile?" Denise teased, as she walked back through the doorway to the clinic.

You had barely realised you'd been grinning from ear to ear until she’d said it. She was alone for the time being, so you thought you should take the opportunity to cherish the peace whilst it lasted.

"Myself, apparently." You chuckled, but let out a wince soon after.

The small movement had reminded you to keep still. It was only a broken bone, and you'd had worse before, but it ached all the same. Denise shook her head in return, letting out a huff of air as she stared at you exasperated.

"You are the first person to come into my clinic beaming like that whilst injured." She muttered, and you sloppily shrugged one shoulder in response.

Then you heard the main door fling open, and slam into the wall - and sighed.

"Here he comes." You muttered, and braced for impact.

Daryl stormed into the clinic like he was on a mission. He was sweaty, and you noticed that he was missing his jacket. He rushed through the doorway and whipped his head around the room until his eyes finally settled on you, sitting on the bed in the corner. You offered him a sheepish smile, and raised your good arm to give him a small wave.

The man stalked straight past Denise and made his way to your bedside, standing over you in an instant.

"What the fuck were ya thinkin'?" He yelled.

It wasn't that you feared Daryl Dixon's temper - that, you could manage. What you feared was that certain look in his eyes, and you saw it now as you met his gaze. His chest heaved, and most would probably think it was from anger. But, you knew better than that. He'd probably run over here in a panic. That is what you could see in his expression - pure worry.

"Nice to see you, too." You joked light-heartedly, trying to mask your guilt.

Daryl glanced at you, letting his eyes trail over the shallow cuts on your face all the way down to your arm - which sat tucked away in its sling. He shook his head, and took small paces in front of you.

"Ya leave for a supply run-" he started, almost below his breath. "An' Denise comes to tell me ya jumped outta a movin' truck!"

His voice rose as he spoke, and his final words came out as a loud growl that made you swallow thickly. You were ashamed, but you also thought that the man worried too much. If it were down to him, he'd have you wrapped up in cotton wool everytime you left the gates of Alexandria.

"It wasn't even going that fast." You mumbled back, defensively.

Denise had her back pressed flat against the wall, inadvertently caught in the cross-fire. She was in too deep to leave unnoticed, and stood there awkwardly watching the exchange. You sent her an apologetic smile, before looking back up at the man.

"Why'd you always have to spoil my fun?" You teased, but felt like you might have stepped on a landmine when you saw him scowl.

Daryl threw his hands up in frustration, and narrowed his eyes at your injury again.

"Ya nearly died!" He shouted, his voice guttural as it cut through the room.

"Exactly." You quipped back, but instantly regretted it.

You'd only been trying to convince him that you were fine, but Daryl seemed inconsolable. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or perhaps the pain-killers, but you realised that you may have been acting a little too care-free. You weren't so much scared of Daryl as you were of hurting him.

"It's only a broken collar bone." Denise interjected, once she finally mustered the confidence to do so. "She'll be fine."

Daryl whipped his head around, as though he'd forgotten she was even there. He stayed silent, but you tried your best to help coax him.

"Listen to the doctor, Dixon." You reminded the man, but with a much softer tone this time.

Daryl stopped his pacing, and instead made his way back over to you. He closed the gap as he approached, and your knees knocked together with his from where you were sitting on the bed. You could still see the pain in his eyes, and it made you realised that you must be one of the things Daryl Dixon feared, too.

He rested his palm over your cheek tentatively, careful not to brush up against the fresh wounds that marred your skin. You leaned into his warm touch, and placed your own hand over his in return.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over me." You whispered, giving him a reassuring smile. "I promise I'll be more careful."

Daryl became like putty in your hands at that, and his expression softened like he'd only just allowed himself to relax. The entire time, it was as though the man had been running on pure adrenaline, and nobody could convince him that you were okay - even if he’d seen it with his own eyes.

In your peripheral, you noticed Denise looking at you - but she quickly glanced away when she realised she'd been caught. You could tell that she didn't want to intrude on the tender moment, but was curious to see Daryl so vulnerable at the same time.

The man stayed like that for a few seconds, letting your thumb rub over the back of his hand as he inspected your injuries some more.

"C'mon." He mumbled finally, and took a few steps backwards to let you stand up.

He retrieved your gear which had been left on a nearby chair, and slung it over his shoulder before walking to the door. You followed after him with careful footsteps, feeling as the pain jolted up your body. You sent a smile to Denise, and thanked her, but she shook her head in response - humble as ever.

"Look after her, Daryl." She called out to the man, as she saw the both of you off at the doorstep of the clinic. "Doctor's orders."

Daryl was normally a gentle man. He wasn't the type to have to be reminded to take good care of you. But, sometimes, he seemed to forget his own strength - along with his patience.

"Oww!" You shrieked, and flinched away.

The two of you were in your bedroom, and Daryl had been left with the impossible task of getting you dressed. He'd done a good job of it so far, but when it came your shirt all hell broke loose.

"Stop!" You yelled again, but the man had your arm tightly within his grip. "You're killing me!"

He'd gotten the first sleeve on just fine - but the other one was giving him grief. You'd slipped your arm out of the sling, but had trouble lifting it high enough to get your hand through the hole. The man kept trying to get you to straighten it, but you saw stars every time he did.

"So, wha'?" Daryl grumbled, seeming at the end of his rope. "Dyin' suddenly ain't tha' fun 'nymore?"

You winced as you jolted away too suddenly. At one point, you'd tried to convince him to just button up the shirt with only one arm in it - but he'd shot you a look and muttered something about 'making a fashion statement' under his breath.

"I ain't killin' ya." He continued, noticing your look of pain. "Jus' stop movin' an' it'll be over quicker."

You tried to do just that, but your arm wouldn't bend in the way he wanted it to - and you cried out again.

"It hurts!" You told him, and recoiled away. "You're pulling too hard."

Daryl wore an expression of utter exasperation, and opened his mouth to snap something back. Except, there was a knock at the door before he could.

You jumped again, having not even heard anyone come into the house - and breathed out through gritted teeth at the discomfort it caused.

"What the hell is going on in there?" A voice asked through the wall.

"Glenn?" You replied, immediately recognising him.

Daryl shot you a look, and you could tell he blamed you for all this. You rolled your eyes in response, and Glenn spoke again.

"Rick sent me to get you." He called, still behind the closed door. "Did you forget we had a meeting?"

Daryl let the sleeve of the shirt drop from his hand, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Ain't forget nothin'." He shouted back. "Jus' runnin' late 'cos of princess pain tolerance."

"Daryl?" Glenn asked, and you snorted.

You saw the handle on the door twist slightly, but Daryl quickly elbowed it shut before Glenn could enter.

"We'll be there soon!" You explained. "Daryl's helping me get dressed."

There was silence on the other side for a few seconds, and Daryl returned back to you - looking over at the shirt like he considered just taking it off again. You giggled at his expression, before you heard Glenn clear his throat from behind the door.

"Right." He said quietly, but you still caught it. "There are some things I'd rather not know."

A/N I broke my collar bone before and it was so painful... I remembered the struggles of getting dressed and HAD to write a scene about it.

Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @speakinglikeconstellations @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli @julesmalek @fuseburner @riverscyberwife @browneyes528 @julesclues @diaryofkali @solinarimoon @ssonia13 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jocyc1997 @bvbwestfall @graniairish @bitchynicole @whitexwingedxdoves @potatochic2003 @suranne-doesstuff

481 notes · View notes

latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

Let Me Love You (Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi)

Pairing: Jeong Yunho × Plus sized! Reader (Female) × Song Mingi

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Summary: After finding out their girlfriend has been feeling insecure about her body, Mingi and Yunho take matters into their own hands to remind her that she is beautiful.

Word Count: 4.5+K

Warnings: Body insecurities (remember you are beautiful just the way you are), poly relationship, oral (female receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (female receiving), unprotected sex (always use protection). (This was utter trash)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @brie02 @deja-vux @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @nanamarkie @minhyukmyluv @yunsangoveryonder

Special requested by @monbaebes

ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ

Watching her favorite boys play around on the seashore, Y/N chuckled softly as she returned her gaze on the fruit in front of her. Picking up a small knife, she carefully began peeling some of the mangoes, apples and other of the juicy produce they had brought with them. Meanwhile she focused on making sure they had something to replenish their energy with, one of her lovers was concentrated on building a rather complicated architecture with the sand under his feet. Slowly but surely, the castle was beginning to take form and the man couldn't be much happier or pleased than seeing his masterpiece come to life.

"Mingi, think fast!" The other tall male shouted as he tossed the beach ball he was holding in the other's direction.

Mingi's naturally small eyes widened significantly as he witnessed his creation crumble down due to the impact of the beach ball colliding on top of it.

"Oops! Sorry bud!" The culprit grimaced as he saw the result of his little trick.

Immediately standing up, Mingi began chasing after his friend.

"I'm going to kill you Yunho!" He threatened, Yunho running and taking cover behind the oblivious girl who saw nothing that took place.

"What in the world?" She looked back and forth between the two guys.

Pointing an accusatory finger at him, Mingi let out a huff.

"He destroyed my sand castle that I was working so hard on!" He exclaimed.

"I didn't mean to." Yunho defended himself.

Not wanting them to get into a silly fight during their vacation, Y/N began to calm them both down.

"Come on you guys, you're making a scene over things kids would argue over. Seriously, this is why we hardly go out."

Hearing her displeased tone, the boys quickly straightened up their act and decided to just let it go. Seeing the delicious fruit in front of them, the young men sat at opposite sides of Y/N and dug into the food. She was grateful she opted for packing plenty of fruit given how much her boyfriends ate. She sometimes wondered if it was because they were so tall or because their stomachs were a bottomless pit. She decided a long time ago that it was probably a combination of the two.

As they enjoyed their snacks while enjoying the view in front of them, Y/N's wandering eyes soon locked themselves on the two women sitting not far from them. Although she wanted to look away before any negative thoughts clouded her mind, she couldn't help but admire their long, slim legs, their small waists and flat tummies. She envied their shape that they confidently showed off in their revealing and sensual bikinis, making more than a few heads turn in their direction to rake their eyes on their glamorous bodies. And there she was, feeling too big in her cami top and shorts.

Looking away with eyes falling on the strawberry she was holding, Y/N suddenly felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Losing her appetite, she tossed the fruit back in the container and just sat back, unable to hide her uncomfortable face which Yunho noticed right away.

"Honey, is something wrong? Do you not feel well?" He asked which immediately sparked the attention of the other male.

Although she didn't feel well indeed, Y/N didn't want to cause any alarm or have them fret over her behavior and decided to make up an excuse.

"I guess maybe I'm just exhausted after spending so much time out in the sun. I think I'm just going to go back to the hotel room. You guys stay here if you want."

Plastering on a reassuring smile, she gave them no chance to argue or say anything else as she quickly got off the beach towel and started heading back towards the hotel that was just in front of the beach. Her arms were crossed protectively in front of her chest, head lowered to avoid eye contact with the young men who were heading in the opposite direction. She shut her eyes when she heard them snicker behind her, no doubt making fun of her figure. She just wanted to lock herself in the room and crawl under the covers of the bed, just her alone with nobody else.

But the sudden calls for her from behind let her know that it wasn't going to be the case.

"Geez, couldn't you at least wait for us baby?" Mingi pouted as he linked an arm around her.

"Sorry, didn't want to cut your playtime at the beach short." She felt even more bad knowing they decided to follow her back.

"It's fine darling. It was getting too hot anyways. Besides we can have just as much fun in the hotel room as we do in the beach." Yunho added, leaning his face so he could whisper in her ear.

"Or maybe even more fun." He snickered suggestively, which made her blush and cling closer to the male on her right, who simply let out a small snort.

"Don't tease her Yunho. You know how shy she gets with these things." Unable to hold back from making her even more flustered, Mingi's hand that was on her waist dropping to slightly pinch her butt cheek.

"And it makes me want to eat her up even more."

With a soft huff, she shoved his hand away from him and simply walked faster to hide from their vulgar teasing that had her cheeks burning bright red.

"She's so adorable." Yunho chuckled, to which Mingi agreed with. Taking advantage of the fact she couldn't hear them, both of them started whispering a few things amongst themselves, huge grins plastering on their faces as they planned out how they were going to spend their night with their lovely girlfriend.

ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ

Staring at her reflection in the long body mirror, Y/N cringed at the sight. She knew the guys were waiting outside in the hot tub for her, no doubt aching to see her in the dark blue bikini they had picked out for her, a color Mingi aggressively shoved into Yunho who wanted to go instead for a more baby pink choice, but eventually caved into the other's choice. She didn't feel up to going out in it though, she felt it unflattering and unsuitable for someone her size. Stripping out of it, she tossed on a tank top and shorts once more, wanting to be as covered up as much as possible. Feeling satisfied with that, she quickly came out of the bathroom, not wanting to make the boys wait any longer.

Hearing the glass door of the room slide open, the young men excitedly looked over hoping to see their gorgeous girlfriend in a swimsuit they bought her, but their faces fell flat when they saw her clothing choice.

"What happened to the bikini we bought you? Oh god! Please don't tell me we got the wrong size." Mingi groaned, already beating himself up for an imaginary mistake.

"No it fit fine, I just.... I just prefer being like this." She replied as she slipped her body inside the hot water, setting herself in between both of the men, who wasted no time in drawing their bodies closer to her, effectively trapping her.

Looking up from one and then to the other, Y/N knew by the smiles on their face that they were up to something else and it wasn't particularly pure. Taking the lead as he usually did, Yunho brought a hand up to trace the outline of her jaw.

"So pretty..." He muttered as he bent his face down to hers.

Starting off with small pecks, Yunho eventually pressed his lips deeper into hers, hand still cupping her jaw so his thumb could draw circles around her cheek. Y/N moaned when she felt his tongue dart forward and infiltrate her mouth. She gave in and allowed him absolute control, moaning louder when he pulled her tongue inside his own mouth and briefly sucking on it. For a few minutes they were lost in their little world until the third person in the relationship reminded them of his presence.

"Ok you got your turn, now let me make out with my baby."

As soon as Yunho's mouth was detached from her lips, it was quickly replaced by Mingi's, who unlike the other male, was more fervent and rougher with his kisses. Whereas Yunho preferred a lot more tongue action, Mingi enjoyed nipping at his lover's lips. Indeed he made sure to get her lips as swollen and red as possible. His teeth endlessly tugged at her bottom lip, a smirk appearing on his features each time he drew out a gasp or whine from the girl in front of him. Her sounds intensified when she felt Yunho's lips occupying themselves on her shoulder and neck, leaving small love bites on the visible patches of skin. His large hand dove underwater to clasp at the end of her top, rising it up slowly so he could take it off her.

Feeling her insecurities rise up once more, Y/N quickly withdrew his hand off her body, ending the makeout session with her other boyfriend in the process.

"Baby did we do something wrong? Did we push it too far?" Yunho immediately worried that they hurt her in any way. Mingi was also mirroring the same feeling his friend was bearing.

"No, it's not you guys...it's me."

Both of the men looked at each other in confusion.

"Are you sick? Is that it? Why didn't you say something before." Mingi brought a palm over her forehead, attempting to figure out if she had a fever or not.

Shaking her head, Y/N took a deep breath before she went any further.

"I'm not sick I just hate my body ok? I hate being chubby, it makes all the clothes I wear look ugly on me. I wish I was skinnier like some of the female idols you guys see almost on the daily. Maybe then I'd be more attractive for you guys.."

Her confession broke them to pieces. They couldn't believe she felt that way and they cursed themselves for not noticing earlier on about their girlfriend's insecurities.

"But darling, you are very attractive just the way you are." Mingi spoke up, though they could tell his words didn't have much of an effect on her.

Joining in to make sure she felt loved, Yunho tilted Y/N's face so she could clearly see his sincerity at his next words.

"Listen to me, your body is very gorgeous just the way it is. You may not believe it, but trust me when I say Mingi and I are absolutely crazy about your body. It makes you more irresistible and we wouldn't have you any other way."

His words lightened her mood just a bit, a hint of a smile starting to form on the corners of her lips.

"And we're not the only ones who think so. There were some assholes who were shamelessly checking you out while we were trying to catch up with you back on the beach." Mingi added, face frowning as he recalled the way they heard the group of men talking about their girlfriend in such a lewd manner.

"What? N-no, I'm sure you got it wrong. They were probably making fun of me." Her theory however was quickly shut down by Yunho.

"No baby, we heard them clearly as they went on and on about how hot you look....among other things that weren't exactly family friendly." Although he tried to hide it, Yunho couldn't keep his teeth from gritting against each other in a jealous manner.

"And we saw how their faces kept turning to stare at your ass." Mingi recalled rather unhappily.

Y/N felt even more embarrassed now, her hands coming up to hide her reddened face, which continued to stay hidden even when she felt both males press themselves into her.

"But if that still doesn't convince you, how about you let us demonstrate how much we adore your figure?"

Peeking out and uncovering her face, Y/N took in their hungry gazes that were awaiting for permission to devour her. Although she nodded slightly, it wasn't enough for them.

"Darling use your words please. We'd much rather hear you say how much you want us as well." Mingi deepened his voice enough to cause an effect on her.

Biting down on her lip, Y/N's voice shyly spoke out.

"Please.... touch me." She gulped before uttering her next words.

"Make love to me."

Finally hearing the magic words, both men stood up, their bodies drenched and pouring water. Taking hold of Y/N, Mingi brought her out of the hot tub as well and sat her in front of him on the wood extension of the hot tub. Reaching for her shirt, he quickly peeled it off her body and moved it somewhere else while Yunho took care of her lower half, removing her shorts and equally discarding them somewhere else.

"Fuck, she looks so damn pretty." Yunho marveled at the sight of her bare, soaked body right in front of him.

Snaking his hands down her torso, Mingi gripped the top of her thighs so he could pry them open, letting Yunho gaze into her exposed heat. He let out a chuckle at his friend's star struck expression.

"Well? Don't just stand there like an idiot. Put those long ass fingers of yours to work." Mingi told him.

Instructing Y/N to keep her legs wide open, Mingi brought his hands back up her body so they could cup her breasts. He squeezed them in between his fingers, astonished at feeling how soft and tender they were. While she was still getting adjusted to the feeling of Mingi's hands around her boobs, Yunho came up in front of her and began kissing along her collarbone, making her tilt her head back.

"God your boobs are so squishy." Mingi groaned as he pressed them against each other, thumbs tweaking at her nipples.

While Mingi's hands continued playing around with her chest, Yunho took advantage of her dazed state to brush his fingers along one of her thighs. Creeping it closer in between her legs, his thumb started slow and gentle motions on her clit. He smiled against her neck when he felt her shudder as he pressed down on her button.

"Mingi be sure to hold her steady while I finger her pretty pussy. You know how she tends to get."

Removing his hands off her breasts, Mingi proceeded to move them to her hips, knowing fully well they'd be wanting to buck into Yunho's hand. Y/N looked down and watched intently as one of Yunho's fingers slowly slipped inside her hole. She gaped with amazement as he effortlessly slid his finger out of her body and then back inside. It always amazed her how such a little action could make her so weak and pliant towards her lovers. Yunho of course knew this and loved to use it against her. Smiling ever so smugly, he inserted a second finger into her hole, his pace starting to pick up. Her breath hitched as she craned her neck back to rest her head on Mingi's shoulder, the latter taking the opportunity to plaster kisses on the side of her cheek.

"Do you like having Yunho's fingers inside of you babygirl?" He asked, lips brushing against her earlobe.

"Y-yes." She responded.

When her thighs tried to close, Mingi was quick to pry them back apart, his grip tight enough that they could leave prints on her skin.

"No babygirl, keep those pretty legs of yours open for Yunho."

Knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge, Yunho angled his fingers upward so they could rub at her sweet spot as he continued to wiggle his fingers inside of her. A third finger was added to the combination, which had the recipient crying out from the stretch.

"How on earth are you always so tight babygirl? It's like we don't fuck you enough." Yunho expressed, thumb circling on her nub with more detailed and faster motions.

The wet and sloppy sounds emanating from between her legs were like music to both men's ears. They enjoyed hearing how wet they could make her become, Mingi especially licked his lips as he saw how her folds started to glisten from all the arousal seeping out of her.

"Shit, her pussy looks so good. I can't wait to eat her out."

Shooting a smirk to his friend, Yunho worked his fingers deeper into his girlfriend's core, thrusting them sporadically in an effort to bring her closer to her high.

"Well just let me get her cum with my fingers and then I'll leave her in your hands..... or should I say mouth?"

Hearing them say what they were going to do to her made Y/N shudder. With eyes shut, her voice slightly broke into half cries half whimpers as she came on Yunho's fingers. Mingi's hold on her thighs prevented her from shutting her legs and thus making her orgasm feel more intense as it washed all throughout her body. Making sure to keep his fingers lodged inside until she came down from her high, Yunho gently leaned in to press a kiss on the corner of Y/N's mouth.

"Look babygirl."

Opening her eyes, she was met with the sight of Yunho's fingers pulling out of her heat. They were covered completely in her cum, leaving her surprised that she could produce that much from just his fingers. Keeping eye contact with her, he brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them clean.

"Oh Mingi, you're going to definitely enjoy eating her out." Yunho locked eyes with the other male, sending him a knowing wink.

"Then I guess I better not let her juices go to waste."

Moving her body so she could face him, Mingi layed down on his back and motioned for Y/N to move herself on top of his face, which she hesitated to do. Sensing what she was worried about, Mingi smiled at her.

"Baby, it's ok. I want to feel those thick thighs of yours on me. Now come over here and smother my face with your sweet pussy."

Getting help from Yunho who took hold of her arms, he placed her right on top of Mingi's face. Spreading her lips apart, Mingi's tongue came up to lick up the leftover arousal from Yunho's previous fingering session. Y/N couldn't help but gasp not just from the over sensitivity of her pussy, but from Mingi's warm mouth consuming her taste. Closing his eyes, Mingi lost himself in the sweetness her body had to offer. Flicking his tongue out, he made sure to pay close attention to her clit, circling the tip of his wet muscle around it. As if they had a mind of their own, Y/N's hips began to slowly grind down against Mingi's tongue movements. When she noticed what she was doing, she made an attempt to stop her motions.

"No babygirl. Show Mingi how much you enjoy having him eat you out. He told you to smother his face and that's what you're going to give him. After all, that is what he wants. Don't you Mingi?" Yunho piped up.

The man underneath Y/N responded with a muffled moan against her wetness. His hands clasped themselves on her ass, harshly slamming her down until her heat was covering the entirety of his face. Guiding her hips, he made her drag her core along his tongue over and over, slurping up every inch of tender flesh without leaving any patch dry. Y/N began panting, each stroke of Mingi's tongue making her fall deeper in that hazy state she had been in just moments ago while Yunho had his fingers knuckles deep in her. And both men knew it, they had learned and memorized each pitch of her sounds and every tick of her body to know what she liked and when she'd come crumbling down from the pleasure they gave her.

Knowing she needed a little encouragement, Yunho began peppering open mouth kisses along her neck as his fingers brushed along the sides of her waist.

"Go ahead love. Cum all over Mingi's face. Make a mess of his pretty face." He softly instructed her. A pleased grin framed Yunho's face as merely seconds later, Y/N fulfilled his command. Mingi groaned wildly as his face was smothered by her mound, her thighs trembling and clenching around his skull as another flood of her juices poured out onto his face. Making sure to lick up as much as possible, Mingi detached his mouth from her reddened folds with an audible pop, a proud smirk on his face that he was not wiping off at any moment.

Knowing she was still too worked up from her orgasm, Yunho carefully lifted her up into his arms. Gesturing for Mingi to follow, he carried her bridal style back inside their room, where he layed her down on the soft king sized bed. Stripping themselves out of their swimming trunks, the men whispered a few words amongst each other before reaching the decision of who got to have her first. The beaming look on Mingi's features answered her thoughts on who it was.

Setting himself right next to her, Mingi began stroking his already hard length.

"Come here baby. Hop your pretty self on top and ride me." He motioned for her to sit on top of him.

With hands pressed to his chest, Y/N slowly sunk herself down until his entire cock was safely nestled inside her. Hissing at the excruciatingly tight grip her tender flesh had on him, Mingi looked over to Yunho, who already had one hand wrapped tightly on his dick.

"We really should fuck her more often, she's unbelievably tight." His voice rasped out.

"Well why don't you do something about it? You're literally inside her idiot." Yunho reminded him rather agitated, anxious to get his own turn with his beloved girl.

With sharp cries, Y/N held onto the headboard in front of her as the man underneath her started pounding his hips up into her. Their moans were filling up the room, along with the slick sounds protruding from between their thighs, where they were connected. Yunho eagerly watched them, his hand working to stroke his twitching cock, making sure not to speed up in case he accidentally made himself cum. He knew he'd get his turn soon, but for the moment, he reveled at seeing the two individuals he cared about the most be so intimate with each other. He watched as their facial muscles started contorting and scrunching up with pleasure, their bodies starting to layer a thin sheen of sweat from the intensity of their love making.

Already vulnerable from the previous 2 orgasms, Y/N started to feel that familiar heat pooling in her lower abdomen, spreading under her skin and making her dizzy with lust. Mingi's pace turned slightly more rough. He loved watching as he made his girlfriend ride his cock, especially when he was blessed with the sight of her breasts bouncing right in front of him. He thought it was one of the most amazing sights to behold. Sensing that she was close given how worked out they had gotten her before and by the way her sounds grew more frantic, Mingi gripped at her sides to hold her down as he bucked his cock deep enough to have her crying out.

"That's it babygirl. Let yourself go. Cum all over me." He grunted at her, feeling himself reach his own brink from the frenetic pace he set for themselves.

With aching thighs, Y/N violently shook on top of him, vision darkening as her mind only payed attention to the sensation of her walls clamping around her lover's cock. Feeling overly constricted to the point of hurting in a most delicious grip, Mingi quickly pulled himself out of her core before any of his cum could start spilling inside her. With the help of his hand, he finished himself off by spurting drops of cum onto her thighs and stomach, some of them dripping off to land on the sheets underneath them.

"Oh my God." Mingi threw his head back onto the pillow behind him as he tried to steady his racing heart.

Finally seeing his cue to come in, Yunho fitted himself on the large king sized bed and carefully pulled Y/N off Mingi's lap to sat her on top of his own. Whereas Mingi preferred having her face him, Yunho opted to keep her facing away, pressing his chest onto her back. His voice gently shushed her whimpers as he sunk her down onto his overly endowed length. Fitting himself in her always took a little longer due to his size.

"You're doing so well baby." He cooed in her ear as he waited for her to adjust to him. Mingi was definitely right in exclaiming how tight she was, he himself was gritting his teeth at how hard her walls were squeezing at his shaft.

Knowing she was overly sensitive, clit swollen and folds puffed up, Yunho decided to go for a more slow and sensual pace. His hands gently rolled her hips to move on top of him, soft and blissful sighs being breathed out of their mouths. He made sure not to overwhelm her, and he himself wanted to enjoy the moment for as long as possible. When he heard her agitated moan, he let her relax on top of him as his hips took over. He was careful not to snap his hips too aggressively, still being gentle and precise with each thrust he shot up at her. With one hand sliding in between her legs, his fingers brushed against her pinkied clit before carefully circling around it.

"You're so beautiful my dear. Absolutely perfect." He murmured against her neck whilst his lips pressed tiny kisses on her warm skin.

Y/N gasped when she felt his pace slightly speed up, causing her body to jolt forward, which was stopped from falling when Yunho's arms held her in a tight embrace to keep her close to him. She knew she was definitely waking up sore the next morning, her thighs were already burning from cumming so much and from being bounced on top of two monster cocks that belonged to her tall boyfriends. Her 4th orgasm of the night slowly and silently crept up on her, rendering her almost numb to everything except the dull sting of her juices pouring out once more onto Yunho's cock. Even after she felt him pull out and coat her backside with his hot seed, she was still in hazy state, worn out after all the attention the two men bestowed upon them. The last thing she saw before passing out on the bed was Yunho's voice purring in her ear:

"Remember Mingi and I love you just the way you are..."

464 notes · View notes

pink-flame · 3 years

Note

You know, we did not get an official first Juke Bodyguard AU kiss. Did they kiss after Julie's show? I'd like to know how their first kiss was

I mean technically you did get their first kiss, it was just brief and apparently unsatisfying. So...let’s try this again. 😂 Have their second kiss.

Julie was pretty sure that her Orpheum concert was the best show she had ever done.

There was the fact that she had been dreaming of performing there for practically her entire life, ever since Reggie and Alex had taken her to her first concert ever in that very same club. There was the fact that for the first time in a long time almost everyone she cared about was gathered to watch her, her dad, and her brothers, and Alex and Flynn. There was the fact that every single note seemed to fall exactly where it was meant to, her voice soaring like never before in a way that felt...easy.

But she would have been lying if she said that any of those factors were the real reason why it was her best show ever.

The truth was a lot simpler.

The truth was she performed the whole concert with a permanent smile stretching across her lips, lips that still tingled from where they had all too briefly pressed against Luke’s. They had exchanged I love yous. They had finally stopped dancing around each other and wondering if the other felt the same.

And they had kissed.

Even if it had been cut frustratingly short.

Still.

There would be plenty of time for that. Like. The second her show ended.

Only it didn’t turn out to be quite that simple.

Luke had clearly had the same idea because he was waiting for her in the wings, hovering even closer to the edge of the stage than he would on a normal night, those big eyes and that distracting grin fixed on her until her final bow. As soon as Julie practically ran off of the stage she was in his personal space, struggling to maintain some small semblance of professionalism by not immediately latching her lips onto his. It was a struggle though and one that he seemed to be feeling too.

“Hi,” She said, looking up at him, as her lip slipped between her teeth.

“Hi,” He echoed, one of his hands coming up to touch lightly at her elbow and usher her slightly farther into the wings.

And that was ok, that was normal, in fact before she had started trying to ignore him they regularly touched way more than this in front of anyone and everyone. Only now her skin practically burned where his fingers rested on it and she found herself unintentionally swaying even closer to him. He must have been feeling it too because the next thing she knew his head was dipping down towards hers, and hers was tilting up and…

Oh.

“Luke,” She whispered, her hands coming up to press against his chest and halt his progress. “Let’s go somewhere more private, ok?”

He didn’t respond right away, his body seeming prepared to fight to continue its journey towards hers for a split second before her words pierced the haze around his mind. He jolted and took a half step back, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his head sheepishly.

“Right, yeah, good idea.”

He recovered from his embarrassment quickly, shooting her another grin and using his grip on her elbow to guide her out into the hall and towards her green room.

Julie wasn’t exactly proud of the way she spent the short walk counting the seconds until she and Luke could be alone and more properly express their happiness at finally confessing to each other but...that didn’t mean she wasn’t counting them. Unfortunately when Luke finally gripped the door handle and ushered them inside they were very much not alone.

In fact the room was packed with just about everyone she had previously been so excited were there to see her play. Oh. Yeah.

“Julie, that was phenomenal!”

Before she could react, Julie’s dad was striding across the room and sweeping her up into her arms, jostling her away from a frowning Luke in the process.

“Thanks, Dad,” Julie said genuinely, returning his hug before pulling away with a smile.

Her dad wasn’t the only one who wanted her attention and to congratulate her, Flynn, Reggie, Alex and even Carlos all stepping forward to take their turn, the room quickly becoming an impromptu celebration of Julie finally achieving one of her lifelong dreams to perform at the Orpheum. And she appreciated it, she did. So much.

But she was also incredibly aware of Luke hovering at the outskirts of the gathering, Reggie and Alex doing their best to keep him involved in conversation, but his energy practically bouncing around the room and blasting into her with its intensity. She was pretty sure she was matching it if she was being honest. It had been the better part of a year spent thinking that their respective feelings were unrequited and now that the unrequited part had been proved to very much not be true they were both practically vibrating with anticipation of what came next.

So when Julie glanced over her shoulder and locked eyes with Luke as they each did their best to keep up a conversation with different people, she knew the exact moment that both of them decided they were done waiting.

Luke was suddenly pulling out his phone and making a big show of reading a supposed message that had come through before hurrying over to her and practically tugging her towards the door.

“Sorry everyone, need to borrow Julie just for a minute, official business.”

Julie did her best to ignore the knowing looks Alex, Reggie and Flynn all sent them and the way her dad’s forehead furrowed in confusion, following Luke out into the hall and pausing just long enough to make sure the door was shut securely behind them. That turned out to be all she had time to do before Luke was swinging her gently against the wall and bracketing her body with both of his inescapably muscular arms.

“Sorry,” He murmured, his face once again starting to dip towards hers. “I got impatient.”

“No, yeah, same,” Julie said a little breathlessly, reaching up to rest a hand on each of his shoulders.

“Ok, that’s good then,” He said, his voice dropping by at least an octave as one of his hands slipped off of the wall to rest on her lower back, tugging her even closer to him and wrenching a gasp from her without her permission.

Their lips were just about to connect when Alex’s voice suddenly sounded from just on the other side of the green room door.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you, I’m on my way.”

Julie’s eyes widened in panic with the knowledge that Alex was about to step out and catch them in a somewhat compromising position. She knew that it wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong, and they certainly weren’t doing anything Alex hadn’t already probably guessed they were somewhere doing. But that didn’t mean she was ready for her best friend and assistant to see with his own eyes the way she and Luke simply couldn’t keep their hands off of each other at the moment. Luke clearly felt the same, only luckily for her his bodyguard instincts seemed to kick in. Just as the handle on the door started to move he tugged her down the hallway and through the next door they came to.

Julie’s first observation was only that it seemed that they had succeeded in avoiding Alex and she let a rush of relief flow through her. But her second observation was that she and Luke were pressed up against each other in what appeared to be a small closet.

Again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” She said quietly.

“I guess this is going to be our thing,” Luke answered with another one of those heat fluttering grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out.”

“Oh yeah?” Julie chuckled. “How long do you think it will be?”

“Hmmm…” Luke wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body even more flush against his. “Hard to say. Better safe than sorry.”

Julie giggled at that, she couldn’t help it. She was happy and she loved him and he loved her and they were finally alone and they were back in a closet and…

Luke’s mouth pressed against hers, at first softly than more insistently, his fingers curling into the soft skin of her waist as she melted fully against him. Julie could hardly process the actual sensation of the kiss through all of the fireworks that felt like they were exploding in her mind as her brain practically sang in elation at the rightness of being Luke and Julie, together. Of course that didn’t last long as her lips parted of their own accord and he instantly deepened the kiss with a little groan of satisfaction that sent tingles from her head to her toes. She brought up one hand to rest on the back of his neck while she couldn’t resist letting the other work its way into that stupid, messy hair. She curled her fingers around a few strands of his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp. His reaction was immediate, seeming to lose his balance at the sensation as he stumbled pushing both of them against the wall knocking over what she was pretty sure was a stand containing cleaning supplies.

Julie broke away from the kiss, laughing uncontrollably as Luke struggled to regain his balance, push away a mop that had landed on his shoulder and reconnect their lips all at the same time.

“I’m going to be honest, I’m thinking it’s probably a good thing I’m getting a new bodyguard soon,” She teased, stroking gently at the patch of skin on his neck she could still reach. “Apparently all it takes to take you out is a scalp massage.”

Luke smirked down at her.

“Oh, so what I’m hearing is you want me to show you my skills,” He said in that soft, low voice that made it really hard for her to focus on anything, even teasing him. “Observing...detecting...physical intervention…”

Julie wanted very badly to make fun of the way he was trying to use bodyguard lingo to get under her skin but the problem was it was absolutely working, which meant it was safer just to say nothing. Instead she let her eyes slide closed, and her head tilt up and could just feel the slightest brush of his lips against hers when a loud knock had them springing apart.

“Are you two done because Julie’s dad would really like to take his daughter to a celebratory dinner and I don’t want to have to be the one who tells him she’s engaged in steamy activities in a random closet.”

Luke groaned and Julie chuckled.

“We’ll be right there, Alex,” She called out.

“Will we?” Luke grumbled.

“Yes,” Julie said with a smile, before leaning up to press one last quick kiss to his mouth. “I love you.”

That seemed to ease some of his disappointment, a sappy, pleased smile spreading onto his face instantly.

“I love you too.”

“Now come on,” Julie said, tugging him towards the door with a grin. “The sooner we get dinner with my dad the sooner you can do one last security sweep of my apartment.”

#500 followers #prompt game #juke #jatp #bodyguard au #my fics

118 notes · View notes

min-youngis · 3 years

Text

aesthete - j.jk

banner is miNe

~ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (artist!kook)

~ Genre: Fluff (is v soft), Suggestive (?), a smidgen of angst

~ Rating: T bordering on M (yes, i'm an ao3 gal why do u ask)

~ Summary/Excerpt: You can feel it when he whispers that he wants to paint you, his words kissed against the side of your jaw, lips feathering across your skin like his brushes.

Established Relationship

~ Word Count: 1.7k

~ Warnings: implied sexy times, kissing, casual nudity, eM0TionaL vuLnerABiLity i suppose

~ A/N: i would simply like to see a harry styles and bts interaction tomorrow, i think that would be super. disclaimer- this story has nothing to do w that.

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

You know you love him. You can feel it when he offers to drop you off at work, because you're en route to his client, and your heart flops a bit at his thoughtless kindness. You can feel it when he takes pictures of you on dates when he thinks you aren't looking, and then again when you catch him setting those pictures as his lockscreen wallpaper.

You can feel it when he whispers that he wants to paint you, his words kissed against the side of your jaw, lips feathering across your skin like his brushes.

His fingers trace a path of comfort up and down your back; earlier, you would've thought it was mindless, but now you know better. Every catch of his nail on your shoulder blade, every lazy dip of his finger tips down toward the small of your back is art. And you don't know how you feel about being something as reliable as his canvas.

You don't answer immediately, choosing instead to silently let your palm settle more solidly against the side of his chest, your head cushioned next to it. Slowly, you look up, resting your chin on his firm torso. There's a stupidly poetic beam of moonlight entering the room, cutting across his face and throwing it into stark definition, even from the awkward angle at which he has to bend to look you.

With his weight solid beneath you, the heat of his body that you had recently been intimately acquainted with effortlessly grounding you, and the soothingly relentless patterns of his fingers on your back, the vulnerability in your eyes isn't easy to miss.

"What if you see too much?"

"With you, it's never enough."

"Comfortable?"

You nod slowly, letting yourself settle in position, body draped on its side over the hardwood floor. Your palm holds your head aloft as you face the empty chair a few feet from you sideways. You can feel heat below you, lying down as you are on a patch of sunlight, can feel heat over you from the midday warmth seeping in through the open window, can feel heat in jungkook's touch as he positions your free arm so its comfortably curled in front of your chest, your fingers grazing your already sensitive neck.

He kisses you once, twice, thrice, countless times on the side of your head, calloused painter fingers taking their time in making subtle adjustments to your limbs. Occasionally, he stops in his calculated movements, walks in front so he can look at you from the perspective in which he's going to be immortalising your body in art. Eyes rake down your naked frame, gaze warming you and making you shiver despite the summer sunlight hitting you directly.

His fingers trail fire as they gently push your upper thigh a little more to the front, burn imprints onto the small of your back as he makes you straighten the curved in arch, leave scorch marks against the side of your neck as he tilts it to rest more firmly on your palm.

And you let him. How could you not? He's treating you like you're made of china. Like you're art. Your breath hitches every time you feel him on you, his palm settling on your stomach to soothe paradoxically keying you up more. You don't say a word. The gentleness is too much, too kind.

"You good?" he softly asks, smoothing down your hair as he kneels behind you. This is intimate; far more intimate than anything you've done before.

"Yeah."

You're only half-lying, you know. But nonetheless, you nearly purr as jungkook's palm slides down from your forehead to cup your jaw, tilting your painstakingly positioned head up to face him. If he sees the muted fear in your eyes, he makes no mention of it.

He dips his head, dropping a soft kiss against your lips that you sigh into, letting you press up into it as much as you need to ground yourself. His warm fingers don't leave your face. Your eyelids flutter open when you pull away, a little calmer, a little more reassured.

"If you feel uncomfortable, we can stop immediately, okay? Just say the word." His tone rings with conviction, with comfort, with kindness; and you know that you're going to pull through with this.

Wordlessly, you nod, returning his soothing smile with a small one of your own before he moves your neck back to its previous position.

He takes his time setting up, smoothing down the pad on the easel, examining his pencils with concentration and care. You've seen him do it a hundred times, but it's different now. When all the preparation is to draw you.

You resist the urge to shift, already a bit restless after being still for no more than ten minutes. But there's an unacknowledged thought in your head, disowned but definitely present. Selfishly, a little narcissistically, and incredibly terribly, you want to see how it turns out. How you turn out.

"I'm starting now," he softly says, gently tugging you out of wherever you've zoned out to.

Giving your fingers one last flex, you nod. "Where do you want me to look?"

"Right at me."

His answer should make you want to wrench yourself off the floor, grab your clothes and send you running for the high hills. All it does is make you smile. "Okay."

You've sat in on some of his projects; watched him as he designed colourful tapestries for clients, landscapes filled with rainbows and elephants for day care walls, elegant, artistic prints for framing and portraits for celebrities. But here, on the receiving end of his focused gaze, is an entirely different ball game. After a point, you don't know who's observing whom.

Jungkook's tongue pokes out occasionally, lips get pursed in a concentrated pout. His foot taps a bit as he compares you to what he's drawn so far, eyes narrowing as he smooths some strokes. His little habits keep you from noticing the strain on your bent wrist, the soreness in your thighs. Above you, the sunlight becomes a little warmer as it gets closer to noon, and the family of red finches that comes to your garden everyday makes its appearance known through the open window.

It's all so stupidly ideal, everything happening around you. Sat on his three-legged stool with one hand on his waist as he stretches his back ever so often, giving you reassuring smiles occasionally, making you giggle when he pointedly looks at your boobs before winking obnoxiously, his oversized grey t-shirt falling over broad shoulders and smelling like paint and patchouli soap and comfort; Jungkook could be the model, the artist and the muse, all rolled into one.

You're observing the way the messy ponytail on his head is slowly starting to come apart, wispy strands brushing against the bottom of his ears, curling against the cut of his jaw, when he finally says, "Done."

You're silent for a second, just letting yourself look at him a bit more, observing as he paints a few more marks on the paper in front of him before he places the pencil down, arms coming up and back straightening as he stands up and stretches, nudging the stool out of the way. It's too soon to revert to the knowledge that you're perceived, and that how you're perceived by him is now so transparent and just a few steps away from you. You're far better off in this quixotic fairytale, where all you have to do is watch Jungkook, no doubt with an overfull gaze of fondness.

He tilts his head to the side with a knowing look. "Do you want to see?"

Slowly, you ease your limbs, massaging your wrist as you come up to a sitting position. "I don't know," you shrug, busying yourself with rolling your ankles to get the numbness out, not meeting his eyes. "Do I want to see?"

You feel him watching you as you pull on clothes, tugging your t-shirt over your head and examining your pants to find the front and back.

"I like it. But I think that's less because it's artistically good and more because I like you."

It's corny. It's so cheesy, and it's so stupid, but incredibly, it's affirming. And it makes you want to see.

Smoothing your hands down the front of your leggings, you turn around to face him, small smile and twinkling eyes greeting you and making you feel a warmth that not a single shade of sunlight could manage during the last hour. His arm is extended towards you, palm open, waiting for yours.

Wordlessly, you convince your legs to guide you to him, feet scuffing on the wooden floor and suddenly sounding too loud. Fingers curl as you timidly place your hand atop his, letting him gently tug you close to his frame. With a soft kiss to your forehead, he twirls you so you're facing the paper.

You hardly notice his arms winding around your waist, barely register his chin resting atop your head.

You're painted in quiet hues of pink, lips curled up slightly in a small smile, eyes dripping honey. The curve of your hip right down to the tapering of your ankles are all softened. You don't even realise that you're tracing out the image, shaking fingers stalling momentarily as you find something new, something you. The scattering of moles on your forearm, the curl of your hair at the bottom, the subtle red of the mosquito bite near your belly button, the brown birth mark near your knee. You still once you reach your slightly smudged feet, chipped blue nail polish thrillingly evident.

"You kept wiggling your toes."

It's such an innocuous statement, an explanation for something so fascinatingly real, and it makes you want to punch and kiss him simultaneously. You're too overwhelmed to reply, though, settling for squeezing his arm silently, subtly moving backwards closer to his chest.

His breath whooshes against the hair on the top of your head as he asks, squeezing back, "Are you glad you saw it?"

You'd nod, if you weren't so scared of displacing the moment, suspended in air and tender.

"Yeah," you whisper, letting your hand fall. Silently, you turn around, wrapping your hands around his waist and trying to convey as much as you can through the hug, head burrowing into his frame as his chest rumbles with fond, muted chuckles. "I love it."

92 notes · View notes

fangirl-ramblings · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Arthur x gn!reader

Characters: Reader, Simon Pearson, Mary Linton, Arthur Morgan

Word count: 3306

Summary: You and Arthur have recently made your relationship official by moving into his tent...but is he really into you...or is he still holding onto his past?

Notes: SFW, Angst leading to fluff

After requesting several wonderful stories from one of my favourite writers and people, I was super honoured to have the chance to be able to write something for the super talented and lovely @littlestarofthewest - Merry Christmas from your secret santa 😘😘

Also a huge thank you to @horsegirl1h (who helped me plot this out) @verai-marcel (for wrangling in all my stupid grammatical mistakes) & @mileycyprus-hill who took a quick look over this and gave me a much better character note on how to improve Arthur's feelings in this story and give me a far better title I could ever think of myself. Thank you all 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

The First Shall Be Forgotten

You slowly opened your eyes, only to find the cot next to you still empty. It was fairly late when you'd finally taken yourself off to bed last night, but you had found yourself unable to keep your eyes open as you'd sat around the scout fire. Your hope of Arthur riding back into camp and joining you in lying down for the night had turned into a wishful dream of waking up with his strong arms wrapped around you, but it turns out it was just that - merely a pleasant dream.

It was only a few months since you'd started dating, with most of that time spent being inseparable, but lately you noticed that Arthur was staying away from camp longer and longer. Yes - the events of Blackwater had changed the gang's luck and the likes of Dutch and Strauss kept giving Arthur more and more tasks to do, but you'd felt like that most of these jobs could be done well before nightfall. Surely Arthur wasn't avoiding you because he was bored of you already….could he?

You sat upright, shaking your head free of any more of those nasty thoughts, quickly making the decision that you should get dressed and help out around camp before Miss Grimshaw marched over to berate you for wasting so much time idling about.

There was a chill floating in the air this morning in camp and so you found yourself shivering as you looked around for your light jacket. Opening your shared trunk, you proceeded to pile a mixture of both yours and Arthur's clothes on to the cot in your quest to find your missing coat. Though you soon found yourself distracted as you lifted one of Arthur's shirts up, tutting to yourself as you saw just how worn and dirt stained they all were. You swore that that man would wear these offending items until they fell apart on him...and some were close to doing so, judging by how often they'd been patched up.

"Ah, there you are," Pearson's cheerful voice booming from behind you, making you jump out of your skin, "I need a helping hand gathering supplies in town and was wondering if you could come along with me for the ride"

"Me? Surely there's someone more capable about?" Although Valentine was only a short ride away, the idea of being Mr. Pearson's captive audience for that short length of time was not high on your list of priorities for the day.

"Well, I don't know if you noticed but we are stretched a little thin on the ground right now," his hands gesturing to the almost empty camp area in front of you, "Mr. Smith & Mr. Escuella are yet to return from Blackwater with young Sean and, as you well know, Mr. Morgan is still yet to return from wherever he has took himself off to. As for the girls..." you tried to stifle a chuckle as he trailed off to glance nervously over at where Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen were currently sitting at their wagon, making sure they couldn't hear this conversation, "...I'd rather not ask them. Uncle told me of the trouble they got up to on their last visit into Valentine."

You couldn't help but burst out laughing at Pearson's fear of trying to keep three excited young women from creating chaos. "Sorry, sorry," you apologised, wiping your eyes as he looked at you with confusion, "Well...since you have no other options, I'll join you. I've been wanting to pick Arthur up a new shirt anyways." Spotting your jacket at the bottom of the truck, you quickly threw it on, leaving all the other clothes heaped on the bed, "Shall we go now then?"

"Goddamit, why does there have to be a train in the station?" you grumbled as Pearson pulled the horses to a stop at the crossing, which was blocked by one of the carriages belonging to the offending train. After being waylaid by the shop boy slowly loading the wagon with all the goods Pearson had chosen for camp - not that any of these ingredients would do much to improve his cooking, you cruelly thought to yourself - your head was starting to ache from listening to Pearson's constant tall tales. All you had wanted to do was get back to camp and sleep off your headache, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon, thanks to this stupid train.

"I know what you mean, I was hoping to get back and make a start on preparing supper," Pearson sighed before suddenly cheering up, "But, hey, at least it gives me more time to tell you about my time at sea. There was this other time..."

Internally, you found yourself groaning, trying to zone out the older man as he recounted yet another story, that this time seemed to involve him somehow, inexplicably fighting a walrus - single-handedly - to save his crew.

You glanced around, finding yourself admiring all the different horses hitched up around the station...until a familiar sight caught your eye.

"Hey isn't that Brutus?" you interrupted Pearson mid-sentence, gesturing towards the big, black Shire horse that Hosea had gifted Arthur a few weeks ago. Arthur had rarely named his horses after losing his beloved Boudicca in Blackwater and was more than content to just refer to this one as "Boy", but after overhearing Hosea called this giant a brute, you'd jokingly suggested the name Brutus, a name that had tickled Arthur and agreed it was the perfect name for this beast.

Put out a little by the fact you had rudely interrupted him just as the story was getting good, Pearson grudgingly glanced over to the direction in which you were pointing.

"Er, it does look like it. So anyway after I killed the Walrus with nothing but my bare hands…"

'So this is where you've gotten to Morgan,' you thought to yourself, once again not listening to Pearson's story. 'Here's hoping you're on your way home too.'

Smiling to yourself that your lover would hopefully be by your side once more, you absent-mindedly found yourself scanning the crowd of people that was starting to thin out as they slowly stepped onto the carriages...until you saw him standing with his back to you.

A smile started to creep over your face as you recognised Arthur's dirty blond hair, broad frame and filthy blue shirt. Just the fact you could see how dirty it was from this distance made you glad that you'd made the decision to buy him a new one now, as that one needed throwing out, never mind a good wash. Anybody would think that man spent most of his time rolling around in the mud than riding a horse around.

With his hands on his gun belt, he shifted his weight to one side and the smile on your face was replaced with a look of confusion as a young lady was revealed to be standing next to him, deep in an intimate conversation.

Unconsciously scowling at her, you were unable to shake the feeling that you've seen her somewhere before, but for the life of you, you couldn't quite place where.

You squinted your eyes to try and focus your vision on her delicate features before a feeling of rage bubbled up from your stomach as she kissed Arthur's cheek, in a way that suggested more than just friendship.

"And I'll tell you - I used that walrus meat to feed a crew of 50...and not one of them complained the way you and the rest of camp do about my cooking" Pearson waffled on down your ear, distracting you from your thoughts about this mysterious woman and how you wanted to jump down and throttle her. Instead you suddenly had the urge to wrap your hands around the cook's neck.

Turning to face him, you barked, "Maybe being at sea for weeks at end with no food makes people more appreciative of the slop you always manage to serve up - no matter the ingredients."

You instantly felt regret as the words left your mouth and you saw the hurt in the older man's eyes.

"Christ, I'm sorry Mr. Pearson. I didn’t mean to take it out on you..." You paused, thinking about telling him about what you just saw, but you doubted this old sea dog would give a damn about your love life and so explained "I just have a real bad headache and it's put me in a bad mood."

He nodded softly and turned away so you wouldn't see him wipe the sting of the tears from his eyes.

Feeling guilty from the hurt you just caused, you looked away to the source of your own pain, only to find Arthur had disappeared from the platform and the train was now pulling out the station. Had he gotten on board with his mystery woman? Gone off to start a new life with her and left you and the outlaw life behind him? These thoughts rattled around your head as Pearson told the horses to giddy up and the pair of you headed back to camp in an awkward silence.

Jumping down from the wagon, you helped Pearson unload the wagon - still with an uneasy tension in the air, before you tried to broker the peace between you both by offering to help prepare the next meal as a peace offering.

"No, it's quite okay," Pearson patted you shoulder to show there was no hard feelings, "You go sleep off that sore head of yours"

You nodded appreciatively, finding yourself thanking him and apologising once more as you picked up the wrapped parcel containing Arthur's new shirt, and headed back to your tent.

As you walked over, you rolled your eyes in annoyance at yourself as you caught sight of the mess you'd left behind this morning. Picking the mountain of clothes up, you threw them in straight at the trunk at the end of the cot, surprising yourself as you heard a loud clatter of something hitting the side of the chest and then dropping onto the floor.

Peering over, you saw that a few shirts and a pair of trousers had missed their target and were now scattered over the floor... alongside a wooden photoframe, laying face down on the ground, that definitely wasn't there before.

Picking it up, you recognised the image of a younger, but still very handsome version of Arthur standing on the left.

'You've always been a good-looking bastard haven't you?' half smiling as you took in his handsome features, 'No wonder you have a long list of admirers to spend all your time instead of me.'

Well before you and Arthur had started dating, you had seen this photograph before. You recalled picking it up from his bedside table back then too, in order to get a closer look of how attractive Arthur's always been.

But sometime between then and making your relationship official, Arthur must have removed it and hidden it out of sight from you. Just as you were about to ask yourself why, you spotted who else was in the picture.

'No…no it can't be,' you thought to yourself as you stared at the beautiful, dark haired woman standing next to him in the image. But, as much as you didn’t want it to be, it certainly was. Looking straight back at you was a younger version of the same woman from the train station…the same woman who had ripped Arthur's heart out and tore it into a million pieces all those years ago when she called off their engagement - Mary.

Time seemed to slow down as your mind went into overdrive. Did he simply remove the picture as a thoughtful gesture so you wouldn't wake up to a younger Arthur and his ex-fiancee looking at you…or did he hide it because he still loved her and her alone? Were you just a stopgap - something to fill the emptiness in his heart until she came back to him? Is that the real reason Arthur had hidden the picture and not gotten rid of it completely? So once he had managed to win her back, he could toss you aside and place it once more on his bedside to stare lovingly at while he held her in his arms?

You hadn’t realise you were crying or just how hard you were gripping the frame until you heard the sudden sound of glass cracking and a mix of your blood and tears began to streak all over her stupid, perfect face. Standing frozen to the spot, you stared and stared at her image, slowly disappearing under the physical manifestations of your hurt and betrayal, until you heard Arthur bellow out your name as he rode back into camp.

"Hey you. Boy, did I sure miss you while I was gone," he cheerfully greeted you as he strode towards you, "I tell you, there's some strange sights out there that I've been dyin' to tell you all 'bout."

"Tell me?" you snarled, acting the wounded animal you currently felt like, "Don't you have other people you'd rather spend your time with?"

"What? What's got into you?"

Your heart panged as you saw the hurt cross his face as he saw how upset you were.

"Listen, if this 'bout me spendin' so much time from camp recently, then I am sorry - but I did miss you somethin' fierce y'know" he assured you, placing his arms around your waist.

"Just like you've missed Mary for all these years?" Just saying her name out loud felt like you had tasted venom on your lips and needed to quickly spit it out.

"Mary? Where's all this comin' from?" He flustered, averting his eyes downwards as not to meet your steely gaze. Upon seeing you holding the photograph, he exclaimed, "Christ alive, you're bleedin'. Here lemme fix you up."

"I'm fine," you snapped at him, pulling your hand away from his gentle touch. Any other time, this small act of affection - the big mean outlaw gently cradling your hand in his - would have made you melt on the spot, but today your inner rage wasn't having any of it. Instead you blurted out, "I saw you. At the train station…with her."

Realising he had been caught out and couldn't bluff his way out of this sorry mess, he sat down on the cot and tried to explain.

"Okay, yeah, I was at the train station with her, but it really ain't what you think…"

"I saw her kiss you."

"You mean when she kissed my cheek? That was her sayin' goodbye. Her and her brother are headin' back East to find their father."

You sat next to him, the photograph still in your hands.

"Still doesn't explain why you were with her in the first place."

"No it doesn't, does it." He sighed, running his hand down his face. "I was on my way back to camp, ridin' through Valentine when I thought I'd check and see if there was any post. Lo' and behold there was just the one - a letter from Mary askin' if I could help with a small problem of hers."

"So you must have been in contact with her if she knew you were in town."

He shook his head. "No. No, she'd recognised the girls after their last trip into town and wrote to me on the off-chance I was also in the area."

"Why?"

"Her kid brother, Jamie, he'd gone and got himself mixed up in this weird cult up in Cumberland Forest. Christ, you shoulda seen them all listenin' on as this lunatic spouted some nonsense about turtles or somethin'," laughing, he patted his leg until he saw your stony expression still waiting for the answer to your question.

"Get to the point please, Arthur."

"You're right, sorry," he said as he nodded, "Jamie was the only one in her family who stood up for me and I owed it to *him*, not Mary, him - to help get him away from those crazy fools."

You fidgeted slightly next to him. You wanted to believe him, but he seemed to be avoiding the main topic of conversation.

"So say I believe you about your reasonings for helping her…why did you keep a picture of her?"

Silence filled the air for a second before he simply answered. "I shoved it in there so you wouldn't have to keep lookin' at it when we lay together...and I guess I forgot all 'bout it."

You looked away as more tears fell down your cheeks. Gently placing his hand under your chin, Arthur turned your face to face his, looking deep into your eyes he told you,

"You’re overthinking – I’m yours. That’s all I want to be.”

"Prove it." You pleaded.

"Okay then...this should show you she's nothin' to me now." He took the broken frame from your grasp and carefully removed the picture from the frame, lingering for a moment before crumpling it up in his hand and walking towards the campfire.

Though his stride was purposeful, you couldn't help but feel he faltered once more as he looked at the flames, but those fears disappeared as he turned to look back at you with a warmth in his eyes and a smile stretching wide across his face. Looking straight at you, his hand opened and the picture fell into the flames, where it lay for a few moments as it slowly rendered into nothing but a pile of ashes.

Making his way back over to you, he picked you up and spun you around his arms.

"I'm all yours...are you mine?"

Bonus scene: Arthur's POV

He slowly removed the picture from the frame, partly being careful not to cut himself on broken shards of glass and partly because he wanted to make sure he was making the right decision. He was convinced that after Mary called it all off between them, he'd never smile, let alone love again. But then you'd walked into his life and brought light back into the darkness he'd found himself in.

But maybe there was a reason he'd held on to this photograph for all this time - a reminder of the good times that existed between them. Heartbreak has a funny way of erasing those memories, but seeing the woman you once considered the love of your life in person has an equally funny way of making those feelings rush back.

But no, the heartache he'd felt for all these years outweighed the fleeting moments of happiness he'd felt with Mary. And that kiss on the cheek to say goodbye that she'd given him at the train station? It certainly didn't give him butterflies like it used too. Looking at her image one last time, he crumpled it up and walked over to the campfire.

Though he had confidently strode over to flames, he once more had doubts he was right to finally let Mary go. Turning to face you, everything suddenly became very clear in Arthur's mind. Everything he ever wanted: someone who loved the group of people he considered family, as well as loving him for the man he was - despite his faults, someone who was willing to stick with him through thick and thin, make him laugh when he was down, and never fail to make him smile, that special someone he wanted to grow old with with...he already had that with you.

Without thinking, he opened his hand and let the battered photograph waft downwards, enveloped by the flames and turning to nothingness as he made his way back over to you, picking you up and spinning you around his arms.

"I'm all yours...are you mine?"

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #merry christmas #(i hope this copied over correctly 🙈🤣)#rdr secret santa 2020 #secret santa gift

158 notes · View notes

yarbz · 4 years

Text

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

#na jaemin imagines #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fluff #na jaemin scénarios #na jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct #nct dream #nct2020 #kpop imagines #kpop scénarios #kpop fluff #kpop #nct smut #kpop smut

200 notes · View notes

hood-ex · 3 years

Note

I'd be thrilled if you did a crash (plane or other vehicle) in winter weather with Dick and Roy 🤣 ok, we all know I'd just be thrilled to read any hurt comfort or whump with Dick, and bonus Roy is a bonus 😁 excited to see what you come up with for all of these prompts.

Roy’s running, and he’s running fucking fast. The air he sucks in through his mouth is cold enough to make his teeth throb, and his legs are burning as he pushes them to go faster. It’s a relief when the adrenaline consumes his whole body and leaves everything numb except for the erratic beating of his heart. Now he can focus on getting to the hunk of aluminum that just went down with Dick inside of it.

Holy shit, he can’t believe that just happened. He can’t fucking believe the plane Dick hijacked started spiraling towards the ground after the pilot nosedived. If Kyle hadn’t acted when he did... if he hadn’t caught the plane before it crashed...

Roy shudders. He doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to imagine Dick’s body burning up into nothing but a pile of ash. That’s just... no. That can’t happen to Dick. Nothing’s supposed to touch him. Roy’s not supposed to let something like that touch him.

He’s only about fifty feet away from a motorcycle when a H.I.V.E. goon tries to intercept him with his gun, and damn, can’t the yellow wearing H.I.V.E. freak see that Roy doesn’t have time for this? He quickly notches an arrow and shoots it in retaliation. It’s one of his trick arrows that shoots out a screen of smoke, and Roy grins because now the yellow fuck can’t see what he’s shooting at.

His legs eat up the distance to the bike before the smoke dissipates, and he swings himself up on the seat in one fluid motion. He’s panting, and his throat feels like the Snow Miser just pissed in it, but he hardly pays attention to that because he catches sight of the key in the ignition, and relief washes over him. One of the H.I.V.E. freaks must have planned on coming back for the bike and just left the key behind for easy access.

Roy’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He takes off like a shot down the paved road past the H.I.V.E. freaks who are wasting their bullets on Kyle. Then he passes H.I.V.E.’s honeycomb shaped building and heads towards the back of it where the plane went down. The closer he gets, the more he can see a runway that stretches on for miles and miles with grass growing on either side of it. He guesses the runway is the reason H.I.V.E. built this base in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania.

The plane is sitting upright in a patch of grass to the right of the runway in the same place Kyle had set it. Roy wastes no time flinging himself off his bike as soon as it comes to a stop. His heartbeat pulses in his ears, and shit, even though it’s 18° today, he feels his hands sweating and shaking inside his gloves.

He’s not sure what he’s about to walk into is the thing. If Dick didn’t have time to strap himself into a seat then there’s no telling what kind of damage he could have taken during the plane’s freefall. The idea that Dick might be dead is almost more than Roy can handle, and he has to try and take some deep breaths to calm himself down.

The door of the plane is already open, and thank fuck for that because otherwise, this whole thing would take longer, and Roy’s nerves are already shot to hell from waiting. He’s not sure if the open door means someone already got off the plane or not. There’s no telling how many people were inside of it other than Dick and the pilot. Roy thinks probably not many since it’s a private plane that only seems big enough to have about eight or ten seats in it.

He arms himself with a knife just in case, and he has to remind himself not to bulldoze his way inside no matter how badly he wants to. Dick taught him to be stealthier than that.

His footsteps are as quiet as he can make them when he climbs up the small number of stairs on to the plane. The first thing he notices is that it’s just as cold in here as it is outside, which isn’t surprising considering the open door. The second thing he notices is that the door to the cockpit is open with no one inside of it. A look towards the cabin shows no sign of anyone either, and now Roy is cursing a thousand times over in his head because where the fuck is Dick?

“Wing?” he says quietly, maybe a little too quiet.

He heads further into the cabin, checking each of the plush seats for any signs of black and blue. By the time he starts to near the end of the cabin, hope and anxiety are boxing each other in his chest. Anxiety over finding Dick dead, and hope over the idea that maybe Dick is fine enough to have gotten out on his own.

Both feelings sucker punch each other when he gets to the two seats in the back that are facing one other. The one facing Roy is empty. The one turned away from Roy is where Dick sits with his head slumped over his chest.

The fact that Dick is wearing a seatbelt—and Roy is itching to know how the fuck he pulled that off—is such relief that Roy has to clutch on to the arm of the seat and just breathe. Things will be okay, right? Dick’s here. Roy found him. Things are gonna be fine.

He’s not moving, Roy’s brain screams at him, and Roy wants to tell the voice to shut the fuck up. He wants to walk over to the toilet and shove that thought into it and flush it until it’s gone forever. But no matter how much he wants to ignore it, he can’t deny that Dick isn’t moving a damn inch.

Dick’s dead. There’s no blood or wounds on him, but he’s not moving. He has to be dead. If he’s not dead then he’s got a traumatic brain injury that’s keeping him from waking up, and Roy feels like he can’t breathe because neither are good. They’re both really fucking bad, and Roy can’t... Dick can’t...

“Wing?” he says, and his voice is weak and strangled. He doesn’t remember the last time he sounded like this. Probably not since Donna.

He can’t lose him. Not Dick. Never Dick. Dick is supposed to be untouchable. He’s always there. Always there when Roy needs him. Always there when other people need him. He’s not dead... he can’t be dead. God, please don’t let Dick be dead...

He takes his glove off, and even though his hand is shaking, he reaches out to place his fingers against Dick’s pulse. He imagines not feeling anything, and he thinks he’s going to throw up.

The pad of his middle finger barely touches Dick’s skin before Dick suddenly jerks hard to the right. It scares the absolute shit out of Roy, and he flails backward with a yelp, heart thundering in his chest.

“Arsenal?” Dick slurs. His head rolls in Roy’s direction, and Roy has never hated Dick’s mask for deceiving him more than this very moment.

Something like a whimper slips out of Roy’s mouth, and he dives in for a side hug that has his cheek pressed against Dick’s. Their faces are both freezing cold, and even though this is probably one of the most unpleasant hugs Roy’s ever had, it means everything to him. He feels like someone replaced all of his bones with jello, and he can’t help but slump against Dick like he’s a kid seeking comfort.

“I thought you were...” Roy tries to clear his throat, and it’s nearly impossible with how tight it is. “I thought...”

“My head,” Dick interrupts quietly. Roy pulls away from him and sees Dick raise one of his hands to lightly prod at the right side of his head. “Hurts...”

“Must have hit it when the plane was tumbling around,” Roy says a little numbly, thinking that the way Dick is slurring and moving slowly is because he’s concussed. “Probably got nasty whiplash too.”

“I fell in a plane?” Dick says more like he’s talking to himself rather than asking Roy.

Amnesia of the traumatic event. Another concussion symptom.

“Yeah,” Roy says quietly, not wanting to irritate Dick’s senses when they’re bound to be sensitive right now. “You fell.”

Dick’s face twists in confusion. “How did I—”

“GL caught the plane before it could crash.”

“Oh,” Dick says. His mouth is a hard line like he’s trying to make himself remember. “We’re at the H.I.V.E. base getting the kryptonite.”

Roy brushes strands of black hair away from Dick’s eyelets to give his hands something to do, and then he remembers that Dick is still strapped into the chair.

“Yeah, we’re at H.I.V.E.,” Roy says. He gently maneuvers Dick’s arms up so that he can undo the seatbelt.

“I can do it,” Dick says, making zero attempts at it.

“I know,” Roy murmurs.

“We need to get back to the others,” Dick says, and the leader in him that leaks out makes Roy want to smile and roll his eyes all at once. Trust Dick to compartmentalize his near death experience to focus on the mission.

“No, I need to get back to the others,” Roy says. He’s sure that Dick is glaring at him behind his mask, so he quickly tacks on, “You’re staying put until I can send GL to you because you might have hurt your spine or something else during the fall.”

“I’m f—”

“You’re not fine!” Roy hisses. He immediately feels shitty about it when Dick flinches at the loud tone. “You’re not,” he says softer this time. He takes a seat in the chair across from Dick’s and places his hand on Dick’s knee. He’s not sure which of them he’s trying to ground. “You know what I thought when I saw you bent over like your neck was snapped?”

“Arsenal—”

“I thought you were dead, Wing.” And now he knows he’s got Dick’s full attention because Dick cocks his head to the side like he’s assessing Roy’s well-being. “You weren’t moving, and I thought you were just... gone. Gone like GA.” He feels so fucking tired all of a sudden, and he knows it’s the adrenaline crash kicking his ass. “Gone like Troia.”

Dick tenses at that, and Roy hates bringing up bad memories for both of them, but he just needs Dick to understand.

“I need you to be okay,” he says, lightly squeezing Dick’s knee. He stares down at Dick’s feet because it’s better than having to see Dick looking at him like he thinks Roy is fragile. And shit, he kind of is fragile right now, isn’t he? His hands still haven’t stopped shaking for fuck’s sake, and there’s still a sense of fear etched into him that he doesn’t think is going to go away until Dick’s been to a hospital. “I need you to trust me to do this without you like you trusted me with the Titans.”

Dick inhales sharply through his nose and presses his shoulders back against his chair. Roy knows this is hard for him. Hard for him to just sit here where he can’t help keep the team safe. It’s hard for Roy too, knowing Dick is vulnerable in his current state. It kills him that he can’t put Dick on the bike and get him to safety without possibly causing irreparable damage to his body.

“I always trust you,” Dick says, and it warms Roy’s heart to hear it. Getting validation from Dick has always felt kind of like a reward. “And I guess you’re right. I won’t be much help to any of you out there.”

Dick’s face suddenly gets a pinched look, his hand going back to the side of his head. Roy nearly forgot about Dick’s concussion because Dick’s so damn good at faking that he’s okay.

“You’ll be alright?” Roy looks at Dick urgently because he really needs to get back to the others. It’s not like he’s been with Dick all that long by normal standards, but by mission standards, it’s been way too long.

“As alright as I can be after getting my body shaken like a maraca.”

“Nightwing...”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Now hurry up and go.”

Roy gives Dick’s knee one last comforting squeeze before he goes. Leaving Dick behind makes him feel like a nervous wreck all over again, and he swears that if something happens to Dick while he’s gone, he’ll never forgive himself. But he leaves all the same because he’s got other friends to take care of, and Dick is trusting him to look after them.

Roy won’t let him down.

#not me researching the ins and outs of planes like my writing career depends on it to make sure this whole things seems plausible lmao #Dick Grayson #Roy Harper #Kyle Rayner #my fic #fuyunoakegata

156 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Two chapters over the weekend because I was ✨ inspired ✨ and my neighbors can't stop fucking (noisily!) and I'm,,, envious.

Strange adventures in Hell. There are descriptions of desperation and doom, lots of magic and - hear me out - forced/reluctant hand holding 😌 Oh my God, they held hands!!!

"What. Were. You. Thinking?!" Strange was seething, his enormous figure and broader height towered over me, the blood-red of his cape vibrating, the only spleck of colour in the grey and dusty dark world.

"I had no choice in the matter," I replied as calmly as I managed, gritting my teeth, memories of our past stand-off fresh in my mind. We could have bickered until the end, until one of the beasts flying overhead spotted us and decorated the bleary grounds of this forsaken planet with the crimsons of our life blood. "I think it's best if we get to safety first, argue later. I have no desire to become somebody's lunch."

That much was true: I had taken a good look at our surroundings as soon as I recovered from the vacuum-like sensation of being pulled into a magical gateway; the visibility was terrible, the planet's natural light very scarce. Several suns were hardly visible in the sky, their rays barely penetrating the mists and the ashes freely floating in the air.

There was oxygen even if breathing in a full lungful seemed impossible; I tried not to think about the contents of the air, or the possibility of radiation poisoning, as the multiple amulets and charms seared into my skin where they rested under my clothes. I had four bottles of water, some bandages and salves and a sacrifice for a single ritual to my name and absolutely no conviction that Mother Earth would be able to hear the call of an earthling gone so astray.

But it was hope, so I held on.

"Fine," Stephen sighed, suddenly looking tired and weary, glancing around with furrowed brows. "Let's see if I can open a portal," his hands did that complicated set of gestures that I'd grown to associate with a golden circle and sparks on the ground. The thing flickered, once, twice, before disappearing, as if the Sorcerer's magic had run out of batteries. "Yeah, I thought so," he whispered to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"The bad news first, please," I interpreted his hesitation with a realistic outlook on our predicament.

"I can't open a portal just anywhere on this planet. We need to find a... Rift, of sorts," the man was anxiously looking around. "And those things, they'll smell us... Right about now," his eyes shot up at a winged, rapidly approaching shadow. "No good news, I'm afraid."

I allowed myself a small sigh of disappointment, keeping a tight leash on the panic slowly creeping up my body. The feeling of determination, the power of Gaia within me was still present, laying in a cozy dormant ball slightly south of my solar plexus. "Give me your hand, please," I reached out to Stephen only for him to promptly recoil.

"You should've thought about the consequences of your actions, I'm not going to hold your hand because you're scared shitless," his words were sharp but they lacked the venom. He wouldn't, or couldn't, meet my eyes.

"I know you have scarred hands. I'm a healer and you don't have to feel embarrassed or ashamed I, I've seen worse," I stated in my best 'mutant nurse' voice as Stephen's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. "Those things can't sense me. And I know they won't be able to sense you too if we have skin-to-skin contact. So unless you want me to get under your... Robes," I gestured to the layers upon layers of clothing he had wrapped himself in. I considered the possibility of his whole body being covered in scars, too, and couldn't help the pang of sympathy. "Take one glove off and give me your damn hand before this trip to Jurassic Park goes full pterodactyl massacre!"

I saw the thing in the sky open it's mouth - but no sound came out, the clouds reducing it's outline to a vaguely triangular shadow. There was something very unusual about this planet's atmosphere.

With a couple of jerky movements, Stephen slid off the glove from his left hand, looking away as his large, dry, warm palm encompassed mine in a gentle, trembling grip. It made no sense to interlace our fingers, so I help onto him like a child holds onto their parent; the size difference of our hands and his imposing aura surely made me feel like one.

We stood a foot apart, watching the shadow in the sky begin to circle the place we stood in, it's gaping maw opening again and again, before it zigzagged across the sky with a strong dash of confusion, it's graceful glide becoming a series of rapid turns and twists. With a final inaudible shriek, it flew off into the dusty greys of the horizon, becoming a dark spot far away in mere seconds.

The silence was so loud in this world. Like the eerie stillness of my, undoubtedly haunted, apartment, I was eager to dissipate it with something beyond our combined heavy breathing. "Please don't tell Tony," I timidly gave our touching hands a sway. "He'll never leave it alone."

A chuffing noise coming from above had me whip my head up to see Stephen holding in a puff of nervous laughter; his shoulders dropped slightly as he eyed me in turn. "What makes you think I won't tease you about it?"

"You wouldn't dare," I took mock offense, rising my leaking nose to the skies.

The grumble and the eyeroll I expected, the smirk that faded into a ghost of a smile I did not. "We should go. Usually there is a rift within a few miles of every location everywhere," he tried to keep the content expression as he spoke but the storm in his eyes betrayed his concern. They were so blue, I felt like I was drowning.

I let myself to be tugged in a direction - everything seemed exactly the same, a never-ending ashen wasteland with the occasional dark grey rock that crumbled to dust as soon as the heel of my shoe touched it. My light blue sweater quickly became the colour of rotten wood, a sickly, dull monotone between brown and gray.

The complete lack of any kind of natural noise brought out the desolation of this wretched place; if we gripped each other's hands tighter, neither of us chose to acknowledge it. It was too easy to get lost in your own mind when the surroundings were dead set on rebuking anything that was in any shape or form alive.

I caught myself thinking that this must be what people think Hell should look like.

Strange walked briskly for the most part, periodically clearing his throat and eyeing me when I struggled to keep up with his long strides. It could have been an hour, or maybe two, of aimless wandering and rapidly imploding portals accompanied by Stephen's increasingly overcast face before I made the man stop and offered him a water bottle, which he insisted we split between us two.

It didn't take me a tarot reading to figure out our chances were grim. Needless, I gave him the same look I give to injured, scared mutant children when they come to the bodega for the first time; a look of quiet temperance.

And then we walked, and walked again, as Stephen grew moodier and moodier, marching on with the force of a seasoned soldier, only taking breaks when I forced him to stand still and breathe with me. As cautious and closed-off as he was, I pressed onto the fact of me being a healer of sorts, and he relented if briefly, always reluctant, always seasoned by a great dose of bewilderment.

"Do you feel that?" Stephen's stride halted, both feet firmly planted on the ground.

The ground had tremors had coming from deep within, small shocks that could have been easily missed if not for the complete lack of sound on this world. My nod was mute, I didn't trust my voice not to break when I clearly knew there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, endless fields of nothing all around us.

"Hold onto me," promptly, I was grabbed and pushed into his chest, his long arms easily picking me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. "Hold tight, I might need my hands," my face grew hot as I wound my arms around Stephen's neck, clinging to him like a monkey, a palm resting on the soft fine hairs if his nape. It felt too intimate somehow, in the wake of imminent danger.

The Cape that previously swayed behind him in rhythm with his steps billowed, the red fabric of it tough as it levitated us a few feet above the ground. I felt Stephen tense with each tremor; within moments, the surface shook and stuttered more and more, cracks appearing in between the dust, turning the plains into a marble-patterned patch of darkness.

We rose above it, high enough that I could see the veins resulting from the quake stretch far out into the wasteland, jagged, abrupt lines of even more concentrated darkness. And as quickly as the quake started, it was over, leaving little evidence as the ground settled.

Stephen floated us to a larger patch of the ground, criss-crossed with thinner, less prominent lines, poking the ground with his foot before allowing it to fully bear our weight. He was shaken, there was no doubt. "That was... Something," he stated lowly.

"Mhm," I hummed, fighting the urge to frantically look around, forcing my hand from clutching at his palm like a lifeline. I had decided on a plan while I was busy playing baby koala - not that there were many other options except to wander these god forsaken bare badlands until our painful demise. "Listen, Strange, I'm aware you don't hold my people in particularly high regard but you're going to have to trust me on this," my words came out derisive as I placed his palm on the back of my neck and kneeled, forcing him to do the same behind me.

The contents of my bag greeted me grimly with out last bottle of water and the couple knick-knacks that gathered the black dust on them. I hastily poured the water into a bowl, dipping my fingers in it, and added the crushed bones to the mixture.

The time that was required to make a paste-like mixture, I used to address a bewildered Stephen. "This is a last resort. I don't know if it will work, we're not on Earth," I briefly breathed my distress. "I don't even know how far we are from home. But I refuse to die here, in this grotesque Hell, without putting up a fight and Gaia has always looked out for her flock. I might get very, very sick if this is successful."

The warning had him attempt to object before he cast a long look around us, shoulders sagging, as motioned for me to continue, those piercing blue eyes boring into my face. "Tell me what do I need to do," his voice quietly attempted to soothe my very obvious fear.

I was terrified, both of dying, nameless, faceles in this world full of Nothing; the prospect of withering away after depleting all my resources was, perhaps, equally unappealing, but dying on my home planet sounded better than dying here. "Have faith," I replied curtly, beginning to chant softly under my breath as soon as Stephen's expression hardened.

My eyelids grew heavy, limbs filling with lead and molten lava as I summoned the forces of Mother itself; my body was aching, exhausted by answering her call as it was. The warm ball in my chest that previously comforted me grew, spreading its smelten power through every vein, every vessel. No part of my body was left cold. A sense of purpose filled me, pushing me forward, driving me to move, to run, to leap.

"This way," even to my own ears, my voice sounded pained. It felt as if I was walking through swamp waters, full of clay and debris, each step taking my barely coherent form through an individual bog full of pins and needles. The force of Mother Nature burned inside of me, enraged at the state of her surroundings.

Stephen spoke to me but all I could hear was mumbling, thousands of voices, low and shrill, unintelligible to the human mind. I could feel the sorcerer's pain; the itch and burn in his throat, the constant, dull throb in his scarred, broken hands. His hand in mine only intensified the situation and I fought with his injuries like I fought with the black dots in my eyes, I forced down the unpleasant sensations, setting fire to them, letting the reigns of control on the raging inferno within me slip just the smallest, tiniest bit.

The steps of his long feet stuttered as I felt the discomfort lessen yet I simply towed him along. Time leaked through the cracks in my eyes, which were mostly unseeing anyways. The useless things grew blind at some point, not that I noticed it on the greys and blacks of the surrounding scenery. It was harder to walk, my breathing grew laboured with the extertion as we finally reached the place that felt right.

"Here," I rasped, voice so quiet it could have been mistaken for a breeze. I craved to feel it; the soft puffs of wind, the sound of running water. I had called for Earth and she demanded its child back.

The portal appeared without a stutter even though Stephen's hands shook; I saw the uneven channels, the energies traveling through them at an uneven pace. As soon as I pushed through the wormhole, coming to my senses in an unfamiliar, light room, I fell to my knees.

Stephen's pained moaning told me he was probably experiencing the same stinging, burning sensation on his skin; my eyes, they were the worst - my eyeballs felt like they were melting, leaking out of my sockets into thick, gelatinous tears streaming down my face. I blindly groped for the sorcerer's hand, directing the forces within me to soothe his hurts much like I had done in the wastelands.

"Strange?!" A masculine, shocked voice exclaimed before footsteps crashed into my sensitive ears with the force of an elephant herd. "Oh my God, they're here! Tony, come!"

"Stop fucking screaming," Stephen gasped out as I felt him curl into himself.

"Friday, scan them," I recognised Tony's voice, the tiredness and desperation standing out in it more than it did in the rest of the whispers in the room.

"They appear to be experiencing a sensory overload. I would recommend to engage Peter's Cooldown mode," the mechanical voice replied, barely audible. The noise still grated on my ears after spending... How long were we gone?

"Do it, Fri," Tony's soft footsteps reached us; I smelled the spices of his cologne next to my and Stephen's prone forms. "You gave us a scare there," the tone was admonishing but gentle.

"We were scared shitless ourselves," I attempted to speak, only now noticing how grating my voice sounded. "We were in Hell," I mumbled to myself, slowly removing my hand from Stephen.

"That," he coughed up the word, breathing through his nose before speaking again, his voice sounding much better than mine. "That place was as close as possible to biblical pits I have ever seen," there was shuffling and gentle murmurs as the two men ensured each other of their presence and well-being.

The burning sensations receded back to my core, the embers of the fires dying out, leaving me feeling like deflated beach ball, all shell and no filling. With a groan, I rolled over onto my back right in the middle of the pristine carpet on the floor, forcing my eyes open and breathing through the pain until I could somewhat see the champagne coloured ceiling without black dots obstructing my vision.

Shuffling noises reached my ears as a familiar round face with light red hair came into my line of sight, Wanda's gentle features concerned. "Star, do you need to go to medical?" She eyed me almost suspiciously but the question was earnest.

The idea of a doctor fixing a magical burnout was bizarre to me, as if it ever was that easy; I chortled sardonically. "No, Wanda, there's nothing wrong with me that a doctor would be able to fix," I replied honestly. "I should call Odette."

"I've called, she said to notify her when you return," Sam's voice was gentle as he approached. I could feel him glaring daggers at a rapidly reddening Wanda. "She was the one who said you'll definitely come back," he offered me his hand.

I had to choke down a moan of relief as I grabbed it. The warmth, the life of another human being, the precious gift of a beating pulse under my fingertips was divine. "You should listen to her. She knows her stuff." It was easy, talking to Sam as if he was an old friend. He had one of the most pleasant auras I've seen on a human being.

"I'm a doctor," Stephen suddenly perched up, sounding almost bashful. "And I can aid the healing process," he stated over Tony's disgruntled mumbling. "If you can explain to me how the hell you managed to hold a... an entire sun's worth of energy!" The more he spoke the more bewildered he became, tone growing in pitch, ending the sentence with an exclamation.

"I don't know," I replied with a sigh. The whole indignation in this man, I was not prepared to face. "When I took this up," I gestured vaguely to the burned, bent metal adornments I began to remove off my body. "I thought I was going to get an increase in tips and a better outlook on life. Help my friend with her asthma as much so she wouldn't have to use her inhaler every time she gets suprised or scared," my jewelry hit the floor with a dull clank, piling up into bent silver I wouldn't even be able to cleanse and repurpose.

Sam whistled lowly, poking at a necklace that had twisted on itself, a grotesque spiral of dull ashen grey.

"I certainly didn't think that a bleeding mutant accepting his fate as cannon fodder will call for the Earth itself," my tone grew vicious. Exhaustion was nesting in my bones. "And that Mother Nature would take over my body, pour lava into my veins and bleed recklessness into my thoughts. But here I am, freshly out of Hell and alive and kicking."

A stunned silence was interrupted by Tony's frantic whispering. "You are not leaving my penthouse for the foreseeable future," as the weight of the incident set on him. The knuckles of his hand clutching Stephen's dirty tunic turned white.

"I am," Stephen eyed me with a strange look in his eye, as if he was seeing me for the first time. His eyes then turned to Tony, who'd began rambling, arguing with Stephen. The sorcerer stopped the word vomit with a grim confession. "I'd be dead if not for Starlight. I'd be meat and bone, splattered across a barren, radioactive land in the deepest, darkest pits of the universe."

I felt my face droop in slow-motion. My throat flexed, swallowing a thick lump of filthy mucus, I coughed up, "Ra-radioctive?" As soon as I could work my voice without it squeaking.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins2 @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #im zoomin with a bag full of creepy

49 notes · View notes

bella-caecilia · 3 years

Note

Would love a prompt 22. I know you mainly write for Cobert but it would make my day if you could write this one for Chelsie! Any time period is fine by me but I'd like the idea of him taking care of her for a change :)

Thank you for prompting me! This is my first drabble for Chelsie and I’m quite excited. I hope you like how it turned out! It’s set between the series and the film. And yes, seeing Charles taking care of Elsie is definitely something we need to see more of…

22 – kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches

Charles stood in the kitchen of their cottage, and waited for the water in the kettle to boil. His brow was furrowed and his fingers tipped absentmindedly on the wooden kitchen counter. His mind drifted back to yesterday afternoon.

He’d been busy sorting out the planting of the potatoes. The mild breeze of spring air had elated him and he’d started humming a low tune. He’d relished in the easiness of the day that also filled his chest. The family was away at Brancaster castle, so Elsie had less work at hand at the Abbey. She’d come home to the cottage early yesterday and he’d seen her approach from afar. The sun had still been up in the sky and the light had played around her familiar form. He’d paused his work and observed her softly while still standing in the patch. When she’d been near enough, he’d been able to spot the gentle smile that grazed her lips. Unknowingly he’d returned it.

The whistling of the kettle shook him out of his reverie. He poured the water into the prepared teapot and set the kettle back down. He leaned on the kitchen counter with both hands and delayed his departure upstairs as his thoughts returned to yesterday.

She had insisted on helping him with the planting. He had not objected; why should he? She knew where he kept all the tools and seeds and only asked a few questions, wanting to know what he needed assistance with. He told her to get the rest of the early potatoes that were still in the shed. With a nod, she complied and turned to approach their small shed. He caught a whiff of her subtle fragrance as she turned around. He halted in his movements for a moment without turning to her retreating figure. Elsie was modest in all her ways. She knew her worth and stood her ground and he admired her peaceful confidence. But as confident as she was, so was she modest. She didn’t realise how sweet her scent, how warm her smile, how elegant her posture was. She said it was nonsense and flattery when he tried to make her see it, but he often could spot a slight upturn of her lips as he said things like this.

Suddenly he heard her muffled yell from the shed. There was a muttered “Damn!” accompanied by the clatter of boxes.

“Elsie?” he stopped in his tracks and wiped his earthy hands on his trousers.

“Is everything alright?” he approached the opened shed.

“Oh, yes. Don’t you worry,” her voice erupted from behind a shelf of working tools. When he rounded the corner, he could see her kneeling on the ground and collecting the potatoes that were rolling across the floor. She lifted her gaze and met his eyes, an apologetic expression on her face.

“I’m such a clumsy fellow,” she shook her head and reached for a potato underneath the shelf. He saw how her face contorted wincingly.

“Elsie? What is it?” there was alarm in his voice.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she played it down and was about to rise from the floor as a yelp escaped her and she flinched. “Well, I just stumbled across these boxes and I might have caught some bruises,” she added defeated.

He helped her to get up and assessed her state while holding her upper arms gently.

“Maybe it’s enough work for today,” he suggested. And so, they went inside. She was right about the bruises. Her shins and forearms were covered with blotches and Charles was shocked at the nonchalant manner in which she played down her injuries. It made him think of the other times she’d said things like “Don’t make a fuss” or “It’s no big deal”. How often had she suffered in silence? He confined her to the bed and she rolled her eyes at it. But when she didn’t argue the next morning when he said, perhaps it was best she stayed home this day, he got worried more seriously. He brought her a small breakfast to bed and could still hear the warm giggle she let out at his soft gesture. She dozed off afterwards, so he decided to use the time to prepare her some tea.

He took the pot and made his way upstairs. The staircase was flooded with sunlight because the door to their bedroom was opened and allowed the daylight to shine into the often dark staircase. He heaved a deep breath and went up the stairs with the steaming pot and a mug. His light surroundings lifted his spirits and he was delighted to see his wife any moment. He didn’t see her much during the day since he’d retired, so it was special to have her around. He stepped into their room and saw that she was awake again. He smiled at her snuggled form.

“How do you feel? I made you some tea,” he spoke softly but his baritone carried easily through the room.

“I’m fine, but some tea would be nice,” she answered in a low voice and tried to sit up. Charles set down the tea service and lunged forwards to help her. She didn’t object and he saw the blue patches on her forearm.

“Does it still hurt?” his eyes bore into hers and his eyebrows met above the bridge of his nose.

“It’s nasty,” she admitted and he took her arm with careful gestures examining it. When he lowered his lips to her bruises, her eyes widened in surprise. He was so gentle that she sighed every time his warm lips met her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered between kisses.

“What?” she furrowed her brow. “It’s not your fault!”

“But I’m so, so sorry…” He lifted the blanket and pushed up her nightgown lightly to inspect her shins. The blue marks were prominent. He leaned down to press kisses there too.

“Charlie!” Elsie exclaimed and her laughter rang through the room. He looked up to her and saw her amused expression. If it helped put her in a light mood, he would continue these gestures all day long.

#chelsie #chelsie drabble #charles carson #elsie carson #elsie hughes #downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

ethanharli · 4 years

Text

Pairing(s): Shoto Todoroki x Top Male Reader.

Warning(s): Fantasy AU (I think I'm addicted to it now-), Angst, Fluff, Cursing, Fighting (heavily detailed), aged up characters.

DNI; if you use she/her pronouns.

_______

When the forest came into view all I could see was blue flames, while smoke clouded up the night sky, shielding the moonlight and creating a erie darkness. A messenger bird was sent to me not long ago by my lover Shoto, he said he needed help but I wasn't expecting everything to be this bad. "Shoto!" I shouted, guiding my horse to the edge of the forest before hopping off, looming around the burning trees for a certain two-toned male. "Stay here girl" I gently patted my horses muzzle before walking past the flames, not caring for how quickly they scorched my skin, I could endure any pain if it meant I'd be able to find him. "Shoto!!" My voice boomed throughout the forest, echoing off trees and the ash covered ground as I leaped over fallen trees and avoided burning bushes.

"[Y/n]..?" My head snapped towards the sound of Shoto's voice, quickly speeding past the trees until I finally found his hunched form leaning against a charred tree. "Shoto- are you okay?" I spoke quickly, kneeling down in front of him to scan him over, his body is littered in cuts and burns with small patches of frostbite on his right side. "I'm fine, but you're burning" His eyebrows pinched together as he starred at me, looking at the burns on my skin that I didn't much care for at the moment. "Stop being stubborn for once in your life damn it, you're hurt! I brought some friends to help get everyone out of here but I need to get you to a medic" I carefully put my fire resistant coat over his shoulders and turned my back towards him, helping him hop on until I had my hands secured under his ass to keep him up.

"Let's get goin' sweetheart" I muttered out, feeling the heat of his left side slowly burn through the layers of my shirt as I tried to walk out the forest. Watching out for trees and burning ash, I was determined to get Shoto out as soon as I could, already feeling anger boil up inside me from the fact I knew someone did this, someone burned the forest and hurt my lover. I couldn't stop the growl from ripping past my throat, but the feeling of Shoto cuddling into my back eased away some of my anger. It was when I saw my horse accompanied by many others, that I let out a sigh of relief, quickening my pace so that I could meet up with the others, but I was just a bit to slow.

A tree suddenly feel in front off me, causing me to jump back to avoid injury, but my blood slowly started to boil when I saw a male with stapled scarred skin was the cause of it, "Leaving so soon?" The males lips curved into a devious smirk that pissed me off to no end. "Depends, you willing to move that tree you so generously knocked down?" I smirked back, loving the way I irked him, but I knew better then to get into a pointless fight, what matters is getting Shoto to safety. I quickly looked around the area and took a step or so back from the male, making sure there was a good amount of distance between him and us, but that didn't seem to go unnoticed.

"Y'know you're not leaving here right? Trying to run away is pointless" Ah, well that's what he thinks. Tapping into my quirk I felt the fire around me suddenly burn hotter as I leaped backwards into the air, getting a good five or ten feet away from the male before taking off into a sprint, my lungs began to burn with the smoke that filled them, my skin feeling like it was practically melting off as I dropped to my knees, carefully setting Shoto on the ground in front of me. With a pained grin I gently traced the back of my fingers along his cheek, feeling my heart swell from the way he leaned into my touch, "I love you Shoto, I always will" And with a pained chuckle I kissed his forehead softly before making a drawed out whistle, calling out to any big animal near by.

"Found you" My eyes widened at the familiar tone, turning around slightly to see the scarred male with his hand pointing in my direction, and in one swift movement I lifted my coat over Shoto's head to cover his face as I shielded his front with my body. But all I could feel was an agonizing pain when the fire made contact with my back, black spots slowly seemed to fill my vision but I fought back against it, trying my best to lift myself off the ground when the male had finally stopped his attack. I could feel the muscle and tendons on my back slowly repair themselves as I turned towards our attacker, spotting a wolf not to far away. "You put up a mean fight.." I chuckled lowly, slowly feeling anger flood through my veins like molten lava.

"Now it's my turn" And I let it burn.

In a quick blur I stood in front of the male, reeling my fist back before punching him in the gut, sending the male flying back into the charred trees. "Get him to safety, I got a pest to deal with" I growled towards the wolf, not even waiting for a reply as I darted towards the villain yet again, not letting him get up as I landed a kick against his ribs, hearing a satisfying crack as I sent him flying yet again. The adrenaline and scorching hot anger pumping through my veins helped me ignore the black spots clouding my vision when I walked towards the broken male, watching as he tried to stand but miserably failed. I couldn't help but laugh and kick the man onto his back, pressing my foot against the center of his chest so he couldn't get up.

"Y'know I kill guys like you for a livin' and you're not that good at your job pal" I grinned devilishly, not caring that I could be breaking his rib cage at the moment, I still fumed from the fact he hurt my lover. But it was when he raised his hand towards my face that I knew I'd eat my words, he sent a burst of blue flames towards my face before falling into a purple-ish black hole, but all I could do was scream from the pain that engulfed me. All that adrenaline seemed to fade and reminded me of the pain that I was being put through, but I just couldn't move. Falling on my back I looked up at the smoke filled sky, taking in one more deep breath before I finally closed my eyes.

I just hope he'll be okay.

-----

"Mngh.." I groaned softly, slowly trying to sit up, but the weight on my chest stopped me from doing so. So with what strength I had I opened my eyes and prompted myself up on my elbow, blinking slowly I looked at my chest, seeing thick wraps of bandages around it, but what caught my attention what the mop of red and white hair brushing against my skin as he cuddled closer into my side. I couldn't stop the smile from growing on my face, feeling a slight heat spread through my cheeks as I moved onto my side and pulled him closer to me, wrapping my arm around his waist while my hand gently ran through his hair. "Idiot, you should be in your room" I breathed out, taking in the features of his face before gently brushing my fingers over his cheekbone, feeling my face heat up more when he leaned into my touch, slowly blinking his eyes open.

"Mornin' sweetheart" Regretting the chuckle I let out due to the pain that pierced through my back and face. His eyes widened slightly as he leaned up and hovered over me, taking my face in his hands, it pained me to see the tears that slowly gathered in those beautiful heterochromic eyes. "Hey it's okay.. I'm here Shoto, and I'm not going anywhere" I muttered softly, taking his wrist in my hand as I leaned into his touch, the tears just seemed to fall after that. "You're so fucking stupid" He whimpered out, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his words, knowing he was right but before I could say anything he quickly pressed his lips to mine, desperately pulling my closer to him.

Placing my palm against the small of his back I did my best to lean up and return the kiss, not caring for the pain that spread throughout my body from the small action. He was the one to pull away from the kiss, gently tracing his thumb along my cheekbone before looking me in the eye, letting his fingers carefully run over the bandage that covered the left side of my face.

"You're an idiot."

"I know."

"But I love you too.."

#bnha shoto todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha todoroki #x male reader #todoroki x male reader #todoroki x seme male reader #x seme male reader #todoroki x dom male reader #x dom male reader #mha #bnha

202 notes · View notes