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nat-20s · 3 years

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Part 8 of the wonderful! Au: the boys answer some questions! Up to you to decide if they actually clarify anything!

(also on AO3)

~*~

Martin: Hey everyone! I know what some of you are thinking right now: it's not Tuesday, why is this episode in my feed? I know significantly more of you are thinking: I don't consistently keep up with podcast releases, how much free time do you think I have, buddy? To answer your queries: this is a bonus episode! We're answering listener questions to clear the air and/or have fun. Also, I don't know, around 20 to 40 minutes a week, as that is the average amount of time per episode? Maybe during your commute? My husband's omnipotence has been gone for five years, we just have to guess at that sort of thing now.

Jon: For legal reasons, that last statement was a joke. In fact, to cover all of our bases, we do not guarantee that any of our responses are genuine.

Martin: Just because we say we'll answer things doesn't mean we'll answer truthfully. Though, honestly, I think we might make it more enjoyable if we do tell the truth. Like, I don't necessarily have a fun lie prepared for our first question from konspiracyking97: "What's their fuckin deal anyway?"

Jon: Is this referring to the oblique references we've made about being from a parallel reality and only ending up here as a consequence of ending one apocalypse and potentially starting another or the general premise of the show?

Martin: Oh, it's gotta be general premise, yeah?

Jon: In that case, I'm Jon, the other voice you're hearing is Martin, we're married, and we talk about things that are..nice? Good? Usually generally but occasionally rather specifically pleasant.

Martin: That pretty much covers it. It's not a complicated show. Uhh, next question comes from Shane: are either or both of you aliens? Nope!

Jon: Well..

Martin: No. We are 100% human people from Earth, we are under no definition extraterrestrial.

Jon: Eh..

Martin: Okay, first off, I know the tone of that 'eh' and "not fully human" is not synonymous with alien, so even if 100% is being a bit generous, we're still from the same planet as our listeners.

Jon:..

Jon: But. We sort of aren't though. Technically speaking.

Martin: No no no no no. I don't care if it's parallel, Earth is Earth is Earth, regardless of whatever nonsense metaphysics might be occurring.

Jon: So what you're saying is that if you got sucked through a portal and landed on an Earth where dinosaurs were still the predominant species, you wouldn't consider yourself to be an alien?

Martin: Nope!

Jon: I'm certain that they would consider you an alien. All of their mammals are probably shrew sized.

Martin: Sounds like a them problem.

Jon: Sounds like a-?! You know what, no, this will be an off the record debate, for now, I suppose I concede that the two Earths and our physiologies are similar enough that we might, maybe, not count as aliens.

Martin: Thank you. Anyway, our next question is from anonymous, and asks, "Is all of this an ARG?"

Jon: A whomst?

Martin: Alternate reality game. It's a method of storytelling that's interactive with audience, and usually has, I dunno, a certain suspension of disbelief to it where it pretends to be something actually happening in the real world until a dramatic reveal. A lot times it was used as a marketing gimmick, but others have done it just for fun. I can show you some examples after the show?

Jon: So it's in essence a more involved creepypasta?

Martin, delighted: Aw, babe, I'm never going to have a handle on what pop culture you are and aren't aware of, huh?

Jon: We were born within a year of each other, and I've told you that I was a deeply morbid teenager, you should probably be able to intuit some of things, love.

Martin: This coming from a man who has yet to see "It's a Wonderful Life", but has seen every film in the "Banjo Cannibals" franchise, including the Easter special. Jesus doesn't exist in the Banjo Cannibals universe, why does it have an Easter special?

Jon: The movies are rather shoddily translated from Russian, so I'm fairly certain the Easter component of that special was invented wholesale in the English version.

Martin: You say that like it answers more questions than it raises.

Jon: Yes, because it does. Oh, and to answer anonymous's question, no, this isn't an ARG. From my understanding of it, if it were, it'd be a poorly constructed one, as there's no real game element to any of this.

Martin: Hmm. Well, sometimes the game component is just trying to figure out what's going on with the story, or if there's any deeper content, and people are definitely doing that with this show.

Jon: That's not by design though. It's more a side effect of us having poor brain to mouth filters, I'd say.

Martin: Harsh, but fair. Oh, this next one is from Zac, no K, who asks, "Are you two actually even married?"

Jon, flat: We are, but it's under false names because this whole thing is an elaborate insurance scam.

Jon, incredulous: Yes, obviously, we're married. What did you hear in this podcast that would make you wonder otherwise, and how do we rectify it?

Martin: Clearly we need to up our quota for how "disgustingly in love" and "horrifically sappy" we are per episode. Which segues nicely into the next question from Gwen, "What's your favourite wonderful thing you've brought so far?" My answer: my husband. He's kind of my favourite in most things, you know?

Jon: Boooooo

Martin: Why, what's your favourite thing?

[Jon reluctantly sighs]

Jon, indulgent: being married.

Martin: A: serves you right for trying to pretend you're the less horrifically sappy and romantic one even though earlier today someone put a love note in the lunch they packed for me-

Jon:- Lies and slander! I have never, in my life, done that, even once.

Martin: Oh, sure, not even once. And you definitely don't reserve the lilac sticky notes specifically for my lunches because you know I like the colour.

Jon: I..I don't.. you're rather ruining my image here.

[Martin snorts]

Martin: Can't have the audience think that you are, on occasion, an incredibly doting husband-

Jon: -A title I would argue we both share-

Martin: - which is obviously why, even with it being your favourite thing you've brought, being married to me is just a small wonder-

Jon, audibly rolling his eyes: As I already explained-

[A Pause}

Jon: Actually, you're right-

Martin: Wait-

Jon:- I really should have brought it as a larger wonder-

Martin: Wait-

Jon: though I should warn you, I think I'd have far too much material for just one little segment-

Martin: No no no no no-

Jon:- In fact, I think I might have too much material for just one little episode-

Martin: Joo-oon-

Jon: I might have to do a whole series! Where would I even start? I mean I could talk about how every day I get to watch the early morning sun highlight your curls when I get up first, or hear you quietly humming and shuffling around the kitchen when you do, or I could talk about how the lunch notes only started in the first place as retaliation to the notes you would leave on the mirror for me to find, or how every time I get to see you at ease in a way that you aren't with anyone else, it takes my breath away, or I could talk about how cute I find the lines between your eyebrows that you only get when you're thinking something petty, but you know it's petty so you don't want to say anything-

Martin: Okay, okay, Christ, I give !up I surrender, and will cease my teasing on this particular topic.

Jon, probably making the :3 face: You don't have to stop. I mean, I could also discuss how very, very attractive I find your voice when it takes on a teasi-mmph!

[There's a pleased hum, then a pause.]

[The audio quality is slightly changed, as if the recording has been stopped and then started later]

Martin, giddy: Uh, heh, anyway, Eric asked what the least favourite thing we've brought was, and because of Jon's attempt to embarrass me live-

Jon, overlapping: It's definitely not live-

Martin:- on air, I'm gonna say it's my husband.

[Jon scoffs]

Jon : If the past few minutes are any sort of indication, I'm going to go ahead and saying that you are lying.

Martin, sighing contentedly: Maybe a bit, but how was I supposed to resist when your indigance gives you that adorable little nose scrunch? In reality, my least favourite thing was probably, um, mini golf? Which, I still don't think is inherently bad, definitely superior to regular golf, but when it's the only thing a next door two year old wants to do with you, the charm begins to wear off a bit.

Jon: Wow. A rather scathing review of a toddler.

Martin: Not so much a scathing review of a toddler as it's a scathing review of minigolf's inability to keep its appeal after the third time in the same week.

Jon: Mmm, the sound effects rather quickly go from part of the atmosphere to part of the irritation, don't they?

Martin: So what's your least favorite thing we've covered here?

Jon: Oh, love, I'm not going to pretend to have nearly enough memory of what we've covered so far to have a least favorite.

Martin: Really? Nothing that you regret or rescind?

Jon: Well, regret, certainly. It was one of the weeks where you went first, and your second item was mutual aid funds, and what they can do for marginalized communities, and I had to follow it with fucking Slapchop.

Martin, poorly suppressing laughter: In your defence, Slapchop, or whatever offbrand we have, is pretty useful, especially when either your scar or my arthritis is acting up.

Jon: I'm still not convinced you didn't somehow see my notes for the recording and decided you get revenge for the first year that we knew each other.

Martin, no longer suppressing his laughter: Yep, you got me! This marriage wasn't an act of insurance fraud, but it was a near decade long con to humiliate you on a podcast that about twenty people listen to. I'll draft up the divorce papers immediately, and then we can finally go our separate ways.

Jon: I'm glad you've at last admitted it. Such a weight off of my shoulders. Goodbye forever then.

Martin: Right.

Jon: Right.

[A beat.]

[There's a pfft from one of them, before both dissolve into giggles that lasts a good 30 seconds.]

Martin, slightly out of breath: I can't believe we're the kind of people that talk this much about speciality kitchen gadgets.

Jon: Sorry about that.

Martin: God, don't apologize. I'm, like, deliriously happy with our varying degrees of useful cooking ware filled life. If you had told 25 year old me that one day he'd be debating the merits of getting a tortilla press with his husband, he'd have wept, I tell you.

Jon: Funny, if you told 25 year old me the same thing, he would've said "You don't know the future,piss off" and then quietly have a bit of a panic at 3 am that night.

Martin: I bet you were insufferable in your mid-twenties.

Jon: First of all, who isn't, secondly, I was fresh out of Oxford, and third, I was insufferable in my late twenties, as you can attest to, and I'm insufferable now, as you can further attest to, so extrapolation would indicate that, yes, I was insufferable back then.

Martin: Probably a different kind of insufferable, though.

Jon: There are different kinds?

Martin: Of course! You used to be "prick boss" insufferable and now you're "smug in a way that I can't admit I find hot or it will go straight to your head" insufferable.

Jon, in the aforementioned smug tone: Oh, really?

Martin: See, see! Straight to your head.

Jon: Well straight is probably the wrong descriptor-

Martin: Oof, 4 out of 10 joke, babe.

Jon: That would be a far more convincing rating if you weren't grinning right now.

Martin: It's a genuine review, I'm just well known to be a sucker.

Jon: You and me both, darling.

Martin: Okay, if you're pulling out darling, you're clearly in too giddy of a mood to be focused on recording. Last question, from Jess, "You two mentioned meeting at work, but how did you actually end up together?" That's easy, Jon pulled me out of a hell dimension and then we went on the lam together to Scotland.

Jon: If that's not the way to tell a cute boy you like him, I don't know what is.

Martin: All right, that wraps up this bonus episode, and as the old saying goes, hiding from murderers in a cottage is more conducive to romance than suggesting you gouge out your eyes together.

Jon, cut off: Hey-!

#tma #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #post canon #wonderful! au #my fic

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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years

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Connection

summary: When Spencer and Reader meet, they connect almost instantly. When she is kidnapped later that night it's up to Spencer and his team to find her.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: criminal minds style violence, swearing, brief mentions of parental issues.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: I got hit with a massive block halfway through this so it took forever to finish. I hope you all enjoy it!!

The lights were dim when you finally managed to pry open your eyes. You felt a splitting ache in the back of your head and your hands were tied tight behind the back of the chair you were restrained to. A feeling of panic rose through your chest as you pulled at the restraints, ripping the skin of your wrists as you struggled. You gave up after a few minutes when you heard movement from above you. It was then you began to truly examine your surroundings. You were in a basement of some sort you decided. It smelled of mildew and the only light was from the small hopper window to your left. Too high for you to get out of, even if you used the chair you realized with a grimace. Still, it would help you keep track of time. It was pitch black out save for the streetlamp a few feet away. You shuddered at the thought of being here for days or weeks.

You tried to think back on your day, and how you ended up here. As far as you knew, nothing unusual happened that morning. You remembered the two FBI agents, a small blonde woman and a tall lanky man with light brown curls and a beautiful face. who stopped by your cafe to ask you if you had seen a man they had been looking for. They told you he had been targeting women business owners around town. You looked at the few images they had, most of which were blurry enough you had trouble making out his features. Still, his face didn’t ring any bells. You apologized for not being able to help and the blonde agent whose name you couldn’t quite recall (Jergen maybe?) encouraged you to be safe before they left. The rest of your day continued as normal, until that evening. Your employees had left for the night and you were finishing up your inventory when you heard a knock on the glass.

You turned around to see the tall agent from earlier waiting outside. You rushed to let him in and he gave you a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were closed. I’m desperate for some coffee other than the burnt pot at the station. Is there any chance you have some left?”. I nodded and stepped aside to let him in relocking the door behind him. “Yeah, come on in. Is there anything in particular you’d like? I can make you something with espresso if you’d prefer” “Oh no, I don’t want to inconvenience you any further” Your smile grew at his politeness “It’s no trouble! I still have the machine open since I’ll be here for a while.” he nodded at that and copied your expression. “Alright, can I have a double shot latte with extra chocolate and vanilla syrup?” You shook your head and let out a small giggle. “Do you actually like coffee? Or are you just desperate for energy?” He laughed at your question “You caught me. I like a little coffee with my sugar. I usually just drown the police station coffee with stevia but I need something good.” You nodded along as you steamed the milk for his latte.

He had a troubled look on his face. He seemed far away like his brain was disconnected from his body. “I know we just met but are you okay? You seem kinda zoned out.” He locked eyes with you and it was silent for a moment before he answered. “Yeah… I just feel kinda burnt out I guess.” You sat the mug down in front of him, along with a large double chocolate muffin. He eyed you, but before he could argue about it you spoke “You seem like you need it. I really don’t mind.” He quietly thanked you before sipping the drink. He let out a soft sigh and he looked genuinely content for a few moments. He looked at you again and you suddenly felt like you were being examined. “Sorry”, he said noticing your discomfort, “You’re just interesting to me.” “Interesting how?” You felt your cheeks heat up. His gaze still didn’t drop but a soft smile met his eyes. “You’re kind but still stubborn. When we were here earlier you were insistent on answering our questions in your office only. When we told you that the man was going after women business owners you were genuinely concerned, but now you’re here alone at almost 11 at night. You let me in immediately when I showed up, but locked the door and reset your security alarm behind me. You’re worried about your safety but still here, alone.”. You pursed your lips at his analysis before letting out a long breath. “Yeah, I guess I care about my business more than my own life.” You laughed awkwardly at your failed attempt to lighten the mood. He continued to look into your eyes and you were hit with a deeply intimate feeling. It felt like he was staring into your soul and instead of running away, he was running towards it. You internally scoffed at your emotions. This strange man comes into your coffee shop and you start to fall for him and instead of changing the subject, you told him the truth.

“I didn’t want my employees to overhear us. I don’t want them to worry about anything, most of them are college kids with enough on their plate as it is. Plus it’d give them another reason to be on my case about staying here so late.” You did genuinely laugh at that. “We’re like a family here. Half of them call me mama. More than once I’ve opened my door to them and helped them get back on their feet.” He smiled with me at that. “I’m usually here this late. I suppose you could consider me a workaholic but I think any good business owner has to be. This cafe is my first baby. I’ve put blood, sweat, and tears into it. To be honest, it’s probably more secure here than it is at my apartment.” He looked at you with what you thought was admiration. Maybe it was concern. You talked for a while longer about your lives. He was from Vegas but lives in DC now. You told him you had moved to DC on a whim. You needed a new start and DC held a lot of promise in the form of an abandoned building with a low down payment. You talked about his work as an agent and his love of literature.

You asked about his parents and he grew quiet. He asked about yours and for the first time in what felt like hours, you dropped my head and avoided his eyes. He sipped at his coffee for a minute while you sat in silence until a shrill ringing made you jump and he reached into his pocket, “Hello? Yeah, Emily... Okay. Okay, I will. Yeah.” He hung up his phone and returned it to his pocket before catching your eyes. “I have to go but I really appreciate you letting me in. Thanks for the coffee.” He stood, made his way to the door quickly unlocking it and letting himself out, leaving you to wonder what he meant by letting him in. You packed up after that and a few minutes later you started the quick walk to your apartment.

You tried to remember past that. You never made it home. You cursed yourself for deciding to not waste the money on the cab. The sky looked like it was starting to lighten. Again, the noise started from upstairs and you heard a door swing open. A man came down a set of steps and flicked a light switch. You shut your eyes and slowly reopened them as they began to adjust. You tried to recognize the man in front of you but still came up blank. He matched the guy in the pictures but other than that you couldn’t place him. “It’s nice to see you Y/N. I’m glad you’re doing well.” His voice carried a condescending tone, and it mde your stomach lurch. “How do you know my name?” You demanded. You refused to show fear to this poor excuse of a man. “What, you don’t remember me? I wish I could say I was surprised. You never did care though so I suppose I knew that was coming.” You strained your brain to try and remember this kid. And a kid he was, he didn’t look any older than 20.

“What’s your name?” you tried again with a softer tone. “Jacob. Jacob Knighter.” He watched your face for any sign of recognition and when he didn’t see it, he rolled his eyes. “Of course you have no idea who I am. I’ve been leaving you clues and everything. I tried to tell you I was coming and you completely ignored it.” “Wait, you… killed all these women because of me?” “Oh don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t just to warn you. I needed the practice. This had to be perfect and there was only one way to better my skills.” His words made your stomach turn and you could feel the bile rise in the back of your throat. You choked it down and stared back at him. “Jacob, I don’t know what I did to hurt you but I’m sure we can talk about this. Let me make this right, you don’t have to do this.” He scoffed before stepping towards you, getting close enough the tilt the chair back. You wrinkled your nose as you smelled the alcohol on his breath. He was so close you could almost taste it yourself.

“You don’t have to do this” he mocked you in a high-pitched, whiny voice. “You know nothing about what I’ve had to do. This is your fault. You could have helped me and you chose not to.” He wrapped his hand around your throat and you felt the heat rise to your face. You jerked against him trying helplessly to get away before he finally let go. You let out several sputtering coughs, trying desperately to catch your breath. He laughed at you and your brain swam with rage as fought against your restraints, ignoring the sting of your skin. “Let me go you piece of shit! I didn’t do anything to you! I don’t know you!” His face quickly turned dark and you felt your adrenaline fade and panic begin to set in. You were in real danger here and no one knew where you were. “You’re going to regret this Y/N. You’re going to wish you had helped me when you could have. Now it’s too late and you have to suffer the consequences.” He turned and shut the light back off before storming up the steps and slamming the door. This time you heard the click as three separate bolts were locked into place.

Even with the light off, the room was brighter than it had been. The sky had turned a light grey and soon the sun would rise. You should be opening the shop right now. In twenty minutes or so your morning shift employees would arrive to a locked door and hopefully be reaching out to find out where you went. All you could do now is wait. Your head was still pounding and even though you had just woken up a few hours prior, the sudden lack of adrenaline left you unable to fight the urge to close your eyes, and in a few seconds, you were out cold.

“Spencer, would you please relax? We will find her.” Emily was doing her best to comfort him but spencer continued to pace the room, trying to make sense of it all. “Emily I hadn’t even been gone 15 minutes. In the fifteen minutes between me leaving and her leaving she was kidnapped and now we have no idea how to help her. We don’t know where she is or how to find her.” Spencer had told the team about the late-night conversation you’d had after he’d come in from a break to find Penelope reciting information about the latest missing person. He told Emily about the connection he felt and now he was watching it all fall apart in front of him. Emily tried to calm him down enough to be able to pick his brain but with every breath, he just kept ranting. “She’s such a kind person too, her employees care about her. She said she’s even housed a few of them from time to time. She talks about them like we talk about each other. They’re family!”

Emily froze. “She’s housed them? Is that a well-known fact?” Spencer stared at her for a few seconds before shrugging. “Probably. She didn’t say it like she was revealing anything. Why does that matter? The unsub’s not taking them to their own houses.” Emily shook her head, shocked that spencer was unable to connect the dots. “No, but we did say we thought the unsub was targeting women for reasons other than sexism. What if they’re surrogates? The criminal sophistication matches the average age of Y/N’s employees. Maybe she turned down an applicant who was in a rough spot and now he’s seeking revenge.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he followed Emily’s conclusion and they both rushed to Garcia. “Penelope” Emily called “Can you pull up recent applications for Y/N’s business? We think the unsub might have been rejected and now he’s going after her.” Penelope nodded and began typing, her fingers flying too fast on the keyboard for even Spencer to keep up with. “Here we go, the recent applicants for Cherry Juice, which is an odd name for a coffee shop if you ask me.” “Actually, it makes sense given that the fruit of a coffee tree is known as a cherry. Each cherry contains two coffee beans or a peaberry.” Emily ignored Spencer’s facts and reclaimed Penelope’s attention. “Penelope, can you run background checks on all of the male applicants? See if any of them had filed for unemployment or applied for housing in low-income areas.” “You got it!”

Spencer wandered off towards the break room to pour himself another cup of bitter coffee, feeling pain rip through his chest as he stared down at the dark liquid. He was completely off-put by the intensity of the feelings he had for you. He had just met you! Why was he so concerned for your wellbeing? Emily had told him that it was from being the last one to see you, but he knew it was deeper than that. Had he really managed to fall for someone in two hours? He ran out of time to ponder the idea any further because JJ stuck her head in the room. “Spence, we got the guy. You coming?” He turned towards her and nodded once, rushing out of the room, the mug of coffee abandoned on the counter.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you awoke to a man yelling upstairs. A few seconds after you opened your eyes, the door swung open and Jacob rushed down. “Shut up. Don’t say a fucking word, you hear me? I’ll fucking kill you.” You widened your eyes and nodded in agreement. You were confused but complied. It wasn’t until you heard the front door bust open that you realized what was happening. Someone had found you. “Y/N?” You heard spencer shout your name. You opened your mouth to scream when you felt Jacob close his hand over your mouth and nose. You panicked and fought against him struggling for air. Your vision began to go fuzzy around the edges. You thought you heard the door open but before you could tell the world went dark.

When you woke up, you were on the floor in a different room of the house and an EMT was wrapping your wrists while another was checking your vitals. “Spencer..” You tried to twist your head but the EMT stopped you. “Ma’am we have to finish checking you over.” You were annoyed but allowed him to finish his job. The sooner they were done the sooner you could attempt to find him. After your wrists were bandaged and they were sure you hadn’t suffered from any respiratory damage they helped you slowly to your feet and told you that if you had any problems to visit the emergency room. You agreed and thanked the two men before making your way out the front door. You tried to move faster but your legs felt like jelly after being tied up for so long. When you made your way to the front yard you saw two black SUVs that screamed government official. You scanned the small crowd of agents and officers who stood in between the vehicles before your eyes found the back of his head.

You began your half-limp walk over when a woman with a dark bob cut and bangs nudged Spencer’s side. He turned around and a look of euphoria washed over his face when he saw you. He ran over to you, saving your legs from the strain of the uneven ground. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. Even though you felt like you were hugging a brick because of his vest, you tightened your own grip around him. He smelled like stale coffee and sweat but to you, it was the smell of relief. You finally felt safe, you knew nothing could hurt you while you were in his arms. After several seconds, he loosened his grip on you just enough for you to pull your head back to meet his gaze. “I’m so sorry Y/N. I should have made sure you had gotten home safe.” “Spencer, you have no reason to apologize. You were just doing your job, and you saved me.” “Well, actually that was my team. I was too worried to be much of a help.” he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks turning a dusty pink. “Spencer, without you talking to me you wouldn’t have known anything about me except for my legal forms. You knew who I am.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up but before he could say anything else, a man from the group cleared his throat causing Spencer to look back to them. “Um Y/N would you like to meet my team?” You were startled by the question. However, you knew they were all close and if you had any hope of seeing Spencer again, his team might be a good way to start. “Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” He half supported your walk as you made your way down the driveway. Your legs felt like jelly and you couldn’t decide whether it was from being tied down or if it was nerves. You reached the group of agents and you were a little taken aback. Was it a requirement of the FBI to be dropdead gorgeous? You barely had time to process it when the dark-haired woman reached her hand out and you took it. “Hi Y/N. I’m Emily Prentiss. This is JJ, Luke, Matt, Tara, and Dave.” You smiled and waved politely as she introduced each of the team’s members. “And of course you’ve already met our resident genius.” You looked up to the man beside you who was once again blushing and scratching the back of his neck. “It’s nice to meet you all. I’m incredibly thankful that you were here. I mean obviously, you just saved my life..” you trailed off and shook your head a few times. You felt insanely flustered trying to thank them. “It’s our job Y/N, you really don’t need to thank us. Are you feeling okay?” The blond woman, JJ you now knew her as reassured you. Her nurturing tone was almost enough to reduce you to tears but you choked it down. “Thanks to you all, I am.” They all smiled, and Emily told Spencer they were going to wrap up back at the station.

“Y/N would you like a ride home?” I was shocked but grateful and accepted Emily’s offer. I told her the street address and a few minutes later we had arrived at my building. I thanked them again and climbed out of the SUV. I made my way towards the entrance when I noticed Spencer climbing out of the vehicle. “Spencer, shouldn’t you be helping them finish up the case?” “They’ll be alright without me, I wanted to make sure you got settled in alright.” You blushed and nodded, buzzing into the building and leading him to the elevators. “Are you sure you don’t need to go? I’ll be okay.” Spencer shook his head. “No, really it’s okay. I want to make sure you’re okay.” You were touched by the sentiment and tried not to feel guilty about pulling him away from his work. You reached into your purse that he had returned to you and dug for your keys. Once you got the door open, you led him into the living room where you set your bag down and pulled your sneakers off.

You watched Spencer as he slowly moved throughout your space, committing everything you owned to memory. After several minutes of watching him, you broke the comfortable silence with a yawn. He immediately turned to you as if he was just reminded of your presence. “You need to rest Y/N. You’ve been through a lot.” “I don’t want to sleep.” “Why not?” You pondered the question for a second before you decided to tell him the truth. “I don’t want to wake up and have this be a dream…” You trailed off sadly, imagining going the rest of your life without him. You had only known him for a few hours but it felt like a lifetime. “Y/N… I’d like to see you again if that’s alright - I mean if you’d like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you. You nodded enthusiastically. “I’d love to see you again Spence!” You scrambled around before you found your notepad and scribbled your phone number down on the top page, adding a heart at the end. You walked over to where he was stood studying the photos hanging on your wall next to the door.

“Here you go, call me sometime when you’re free okay?” He smiled and folded it before placing it safely in his pocket. He stared into your eyes, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “Y/N… You’re really beautiful, you know that?” Your cheeks tinged with pink and you tried to look away but his hand held you still, lingering on your cheek. “Aphrodite would be so jealous she’d smite you where you stood.” You giggled and before he could overthink, he touched his lips to yours. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. After a few minutes, he pulled away and smiled at you. “I have to go now, unfortunately. The team will hate me if I write off a cab on FBI money. I’ll call you okay? Soon. Get some rest, you need it.” You nodded and leaned up to brush your lips against his once more. “I will. I’ll see you soon Spence.” He kissed your cheek as he opened the door behind him. “Sweet dreams Carissima. I’ll see you soon.” He shut the door behind him and you locked it before making your way to bed. You stripped off your clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. You climbed in between your sheets and closed your eyes, quickly drifting off and into dreams filled with Spencer.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x Y/N #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #cm #criminal minds fanfiction

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remsmoonlight · 3 years

Text

— title : don’t leave me lonely

— word count : 3 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : when the protective instinct that runs deep within daryl you can’t take how much of a child he treats you, only when words spoken in anger do you both see the truth.

— warnings : swearing, one instance of blood description, vague mentions of daryl’s past and just some general angst

I've heard you're taking requests, soo, Could you please write something with Daryl and 20+62 from prompt list?

Thank you in advance and have a nice day ❤️

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　requested ? yes ! / requests are open *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

prompt list : 20. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” && “ After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

Pale grey pavement is being painted with the blood of the walkers you had to slaughter in order to survive, to make it back to your family. You dare not speak a word, already predicting a storm awaiting to drench you in its anger that currently forms within the man you slowly began to love. You can’t pinpoint exactly where you began to have these thoughts, experience these feelings, as it hasn’t been an easy road. Loving him is not uncomplicated, the image he shows the world is harsh, though his actions speak louder than his words.

You’re stuck following him and Aaron, the man sparing apologetic glances back every few metres. He has nothing to apologise for, he was simply a bystander to a very awkward encounter between the two.

“ the hell y’doing out here? “

For a moment, your world stops. You hadn’t expected to see anyone out in the secluded area of the greenery that surrounds Alexandria, the whole idea of going from fighting for your life every day to pretending the world isn’t dead is not a pill that is easy to swallow. A potentially horrid coping mechanism, but you have to remember what it’s like out there, to not be protected by steel walls. To pretend you still have to sleep with one eye open, if anything was to ever happen to anyone you love because you allowed your guard to be demolished by a faux safety you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself.

A timid smile arises on your expression, almost apologetic. You shrug in response to Daryl’s question.

“ y’got no brain now? “ stomping towards you, his eyes burning with outrage and alarm, he doesn’t trust this new situation with you in it.

“ not here, Daryl. “

Trouble has a way of finding you, the unfamiliarity of everything touching the fear that he prays to stay dormant within the walls of Alexandria. At least with you confined to the area he can see clearly, he doesn’t have to imagine the worst possible outcomes to prepare himself for the inescapable of what always happens.

He can’t lose you, he can’t tell you either.

Eyebrows raise in shock over the suddenness of his heated words, never once had he spoken to you in such a way. Even on the rare occasion he was genuinely annoyed with something you had done. You force your features to stay neutral, not wanting a war in front of Aaron, considering you haven’t known him for long.

A mirror image is the displeasure that has stewed within you, the very same of the Dixon man you had shared the road with. Who does he think he is? You ask yourself, that outburst was for no reason and you know it. It’s times like these that confuse you and your feelings for him.

Though you hear no footsteps behind you, you can feel Daryl’s presence stalking you closely, but you pay no mind. Not in any mood to talk, afraid for what you will say in anger.

A temper is something you control, though there are moments it wants to smash down your walls.

With a heavy breath set free into the air, you turn the handle of your home open, leaving it open for Daryl as you know it’s going to be a conversation he will wish to continue. For a rather quiet man, when he wants to, he can say a lot.

Turning to face him, you wet your lips to say something, hoping to calm him before the situation gets out of hand. Hoping to get an idea of why he is so irate, though your expression hardens ever so softly as you realise that he’s most likely going to continue on the tirade he began outside of the walls. Your heart thumps against your ribcage, almost rattling your entire being with anticipation. Being able to hold your own in conflict is something you are able to do, but it doesn’t mean it leaves no scars to litter your soul.

“ okay, so what was that out there, Daryl? “ your words are soft, almost to the tune of a whisper as you question him. Hoping to understand his point of view.

“ y’really gotta ask that? “

Your lips purse, you merely blink in his direction as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. Your heart is full of hurt as he treats you as nothing more than a stranger with the heat that coats his furious words that he hauls in your direction.

It confuses you incredibly how the day has gone to hell so swiftly, but you warn yourself about that. Assuming once dawn breaks that the day will bring something good for once, and not news of another tragedy. Even protected by the stereotypical image of a cookie cut American household can’t hold off death. No matter what, it gets its day.

“ yes, I do! “ you raise your voice, fighting the urge to close the distance. Knowing that he’d mistake it as you being on the offensive. “ I wasn’t doing anything except walking! “

“ yeh, an’ that’s what concerns me. “

A pause.

Nothing but the noises from the residents of this small town can be heard, the silence so deafening it almost obliterates your confusion. The room is so quiet that you even doubt that the two of you are even occupying it, the house feeling more and more cold with the seconds that slug by, it feeling that there’s no life to breathe a new warmth into it. Never has it felt so bare to be in that in that very moment than with the two of you ready to cut deep.

This is what he's pissed about? Before you even realise, you snort from disbelief. It’s something so small, so insignificant you can’t even believe it. Their new found safety has affected the group in many ways, but this has to be one of the strangest as you openly stare at his tense form.

“ seriously? “ you ask, refusing to believe he’s pushing this so intensely for that very reason.

“ y’finding that funny? “

“ yeah, because you’re acting like you’re my damned father. “ pointing a finger in his direction, you pace for a few fleeting seconds.

A closeness between you both has long since been acknowledged, but you’ve never divulged to him the true extent of your emotions. Sometimes you think he’s aware of what you feel, though late at night when you’re alone you realise that it may be better if he doesn’t. You wish you have the confidence to even share it with him, although the thought that blares in your ears warns you otherwise. Your heart couldn’t take another heartbreak, opting for his friendship rather than a cold shoulder born out of awkwardness.

Sometimes you’re sure he’s staring at you with a longing glint in his eye when you’re not paying attention, however you often chalk it up to hope. Never are you one to follow the signs, not wanting to be wrong. Your imagination cannot be crushed if it doesn’t have confirmation.

Hope can be cruel as it can be kind.

“ someone’s gotta, I can’t remember all the times I’ve had t’drag your ass outta trouble! “ his crossbow thuds as it’s dropped without a care, his face reddens as it twists and contorts. You haven’t seen him show this much rage since the Greene’s farm.

The day you first met him is permanently burnt into your brain, being half starved and dehydrated you thought you were hallucinating him. Unable to walk, your limbs weighed a ton under the exhaustion you felt under the punishing Georgian sun but there he was. Surrounded by the rays as if he was your very own guardian angel, but that idea had been put straight to bed as soon as you saw the outbursts from him to the other members of the group.

With the months that passed, you had trouble saying that was the same man you knew today. Less prone to rage, clearer about doing anything in his power to aid his family, though you can’t help but wonder if the old Daryl wants to break through the progress he has made so far.

“ and I never asked for that, Daryl. Why are you acting as if you’re my keeper? “

“ fine! it ain’t my problem if y’wanna be a selfish bitch. “

Causing hurt to the people he loves comes easy to Daryl. To wound deep when he’s scared is all he has ever learnt, to show love and affection was never afforded to him as a child, not even when he silently begged for it. Now, he was physically and mentally scarred, even these days were they still plaguing him like a never relenting ghost. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he hates seeing pain in your eyes, but he can’t convey his worry without fury over the idea of losing you.

He can’t imagine having to live a life where you’re not cracking a joke at the worst possible moment, or your selflessness that will surely one day cause you more harm than good. His breathing increases at the thought, his fists clenching, willing him to stay in place and not barge through the door without a second thought.

“ se - selfish? Daryl, you’re making sense! “

“ y’don’t care about anyone but y’self. Doin’ shit like that by y’self is only gonna get y’killed. All y’think about is you, not anyone left behind. “

“ after everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you? “ the fire you had once now leaves nothing but dying embers, defeat coating your words as tears shimmer in your eyes

Daryl doesn’t know how to react at your proclamation, the inner battle to stay in the lounge now lost. His mind is unable to warp the idea of you even entertaining the thought of becoming more than friends, never did he dream that the shield he’d built around himself could injure him more than the outside elements could.

Before he even realised it, he’s leaning down to pick up his crossbow and heading straight for the door. Paying no mind to you taking his departure as rejection and not self preservation.

“ if you think I’m gonna come back, I’ll make you wait a long time! “ you call out before slamming the door.

Hands are brought to your stomach, as if to stem the bleeding from a wound made deep into your torso, though it can’t curb the internal trauma you feel from Daryl ripping himself from your presence. You knew it was a bad idea to tell him your feelings, yet you could hardly stop yourself in the war of words between the two of you. Nothing is a big enough wish than to stop the pain that ignites your entire self, threatening to consume you entirely. Only now do you understand the true extent of your love for him, previously thinking it was little more than a crush, though this feels more. Especially mourning what could have been.

You retreat to your room, not even leaving to share dinner with your family. Afraid not if Daryl would show, but rather your ability to hold your composure when you feel as if you’re glass who’s moments are counting down by the second to shatter into nothing more than sharp fragments that will only slice others to ensure they bleed, to ensure they feel as bad as you do.

“ come on, you’ve got to get some air. “

A series of knocks interrupt your sleep, followed by the voice of who you recognise as belonging to Carol. You ignore her, not wanting to face anyone just yet. The trauma on your heart is still too fresh. However it matters not to Carol, for she simply does not take your silence as an answer, but rather as an invitation as she opens your door.

“ just leave me alone, please. “

“ the others are worried about you, so am I. “ she speaks, concern written all over her face as she steps forward closer to your bed, her frown becoming more and more prevalent.

“ let them be, I just want to sleep. “

“ you don’t have to talk to anyone, come down after breakfast. Just get some fresh air. “ Carol gently requests with a half smile blooming onto her features. If anything is certain, she wants to see you and Daryl work through the fog that currently locks you both away.

Leaving the bed, you groan to yourself. You’re not sure how much time has passed since Carol departed, but it has been long enough for your family to have also left the house to either explore more or two engage in their jobs. It’s something you send a silent thanks to the sky for, all you desire is solitude, with the sun etching its warmth onto your face. Opening the door, you see people going about their business with little regard for you, though you’re sure some of them must have heard the commotion the previous day.

You pay little mind to them though, more concerned on piecing together the broken pieces of your heart than anything else.

Sleep never once visited Daryl, never did it carry him off into a peaceful slumber. Though he can’t help but feel as if he deserves it, as payment for having to be the cause of the damage to you, being the reason you sobbed harder than he’d ever heard you. He’d waited outside that door, pushing himself to make things right, but never did the courage arise. Leaving him lonely once again.

Fuck this he curses himself mentally, this is going to be the one time an opportunity for happiness does not pass him by. Not once more, that was the last time he’d be nothing more than a witness.

Astonishment transforms his hardened expression as he comes to a stop, realising you’re already sitting on the porch next door with a blissfully peaceful air surrounding you. You don’t realise he’s there just yet, your eyes closed as you take in the sounds and smell of Alexandria, a distraction to what you feel. Daryl briefly wonders how he should go about patching things between the two of you, the situation an alien one to him. Fingers reach towards the cigarette packet concealed in his trouser pocket, with the barest of shaking from nerves.

Bringing it to his lips, the smoke is what alerts you to his being closing the distance. You can’t prevent the draining of colour from your face, not prepared from yet another interaction with the Dixon man so early in the morning.

“ I - uh, wanna say sorry. ‘Bout yesterday. “ Daryl apologises, with a regretful tone colouring his words with the most vibrancy he can muster.

Your gaze slips to the floor, watching the grass move ever so slightly with the breeze that wanders through. To forgive is in your nature and you sorely want to extend that forgiveness to him, but to do so after that exchange is a difficult thing.

“ thank you, I suppose. “ you shrug, your hands tying together as you try to make up for a lack of words.

“ I ain’t expectin’ y’to forgive me or nothin’, I just want y’to know. “

You sigh to yourself, you know in your heart he means what he says, you hate that you’ve been this mad at him.. at each other this much, even for a few hours. People and bonds are a rare blessing in this world, and you know it’s better to keep them close than to allow them to burn in the fire of hatred and impulse, to leave them nothing more than ashes ⎯ remnants to revere of an age that has since past.

“ Daryl, I do forgive you. I’m just trying to figure out how we move past this. “ you reply with sorrow, your eyes closing, a crease intensifying between your brows. It hurts to even speak into existence.

“ those things you said yesterday ... did you mean them? “

Bewilderment forces your eyes open, your head snapping to meet his figure that still stands. Here you are preparing yourself to move past Daryl, no matter how hard that would be, and he’s asking you questions about what you said.

“ you’ll have to be specific, I said a lot. “

“ it needs sayin’? “

Daryl can’t help but feel put on the spot as your sight bores into him with a forceful amount of strength, scrutinising him with the need to find an answer he’s not yet sure of.

“ yes, it does. “

“ was y’serious about.. bein’ in love.. ? “ with me is the silent end to the sentence that lays peacefully on his tongue as he leaves it out, the invisible presence of it painfully clear to the both of you, knowing that while it wasn’t included, it was there regardless.

“ when it comes to things like this, I don’t lie. “ you rest your head on your chin, a small yet anxious smile fighting to break free onto your features.

Why do I have to be a nervous smiler?

Daryl doesn’t answer, instead he moves to sit beside you on the porch. Closer than ever before, it’s not something that goes unnoticed by either of you, and like that hope is once again reignited within your core. Even small steps like this are significant, physical affection with other people is still something that has not changed all that much with him.. Though, you’ve seen moments on rare occasions, witnessing it before he can even stop himself.

“ so, we boyfriend and girlfriend now? “ you joke, laughter allowing the grief to peel away from your heart, allowing it to flutter in the air at the thought of the potential between you.

“ shut up. “ mumbles Daryl, although there’s a small grin that is peaking through his expression as he allows it to be set free, even though the full picture is still hidden under the grime and the hair that has long since overgrown.

But, you find you wouldn’t change a thing about that. It being part of his charm. You can’t help but find yourself full to the brim of excitement of what can grow between you, with the possibilities endless.. no matter how hard things can and will get, you will have each other in a new way that you’ve never before and that? It’s a heavenly picture you want to cut and pocket away in the confines of your heart.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl angst #daryl fluff

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sunshineseung · 3 years

Text

Little Secret // Changbin

🍄 | genre: smut mini-series ☁️ | pairing: Seo Changbin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 2k 🌸 | includes: plot *yawn*, masturbation, fear of being caught, actually being caught, most of the hot and heavy stuff happens in the other parts lmao

☀️ | synopsis: Seo Changbin is your brother’s best friend. He comes over all the time, and you practically grew up together. If only you hadn’t gotten a crush on him. If only he knew how hard you had fallen for him.

You and your brother had never been as close as your parents had hoped. Jisung was always loud and obnoxious, making friends everywhere he went and never looking back. You were much more comfortable by yourself, spending night after night alone while Jisung was out partying. Your shelf was full of books and fandom memorabilia while your brother’s shelf was covered in dust and toy robots from his youth he refused to get rid of. His GTA V poster covered the wall next to his bed while the only decoration in your room was the fairy lights and fake vines around the perimeter of your walls. These fundamental differences pushed you away from your brother, and after several years, you turned more into a punchline for Jisung to discussed jokingly with his friends while he was just the annoying older brother you’d wished would move out.

As much as you wanted to leave home and go to a prestigious college, your parents insisted you go to the same local college as Jisung for at least a year “just to try it out,” a.k.a they didn’t have enough money to send you away, which was reasonable. You and your brother, still under the same roof, fought to no end over the smallest things: loud music, messy bathroom, eating each other’s leftovers. Just about anything was fair game when the light-hearted hatred was so tense.

There was one bright side, though. Since Jisung entered Kindergarten, he was close to a boy named Changbin. You grew up with Changbin at your house, and even when your family moved 20 minutes away from him, he would always be there. There was nothing separating Jisung and Changbin.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the slightest crush on Changbin. While Jisung was only one year older than you, Changbin was two years older, and that initially intimidated you. His intimidating and off putting nature is what drew you in, but his glowing smile and gorgeous face only made you fall harder. You couldn’t explain your feelings for Changbin when you were in middle school, and even now, it was hard to describe the overwhelming nervousness that overcomes you when you’re in his vicinity. As high school went on, you knew you couldn’t be with him, but while you had your head in books throughout high school, Changbin was going to his college’s gym. His smile was one thing, and that was good for a middle school crush, but his insane arm and chest muscles send you through the moon in high school, and the image of Changbin shirtless at your neighborhood pool has been etched in your brain since your junior year of high school.

But now you’re in college. You’re a greasy little freshman while Changbin is a worn-out junior. There’s no way in hell you can shoot your shot, even if you’re both adults. And to make things even more impossible, Jisung would never allow his best friend to date his little sister. That would ruin him.

As improbable as it was, you still loved to fantasize about Changbin, spending most of your time alone daydreaming about his sculpted body above yours, praising you and making you feel like the only girl in the world.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

“Sis, could you put on some actual clothes, jeez.” Jisung covered his eyes dramatically as you entered the kitchen in your very appropriate shorts and tee shirt. You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him, punching him in the shoulder lightly.

“Changbin’s been coming over for how long? It’s fine.” Your response sounded steady, but your mind was buzzing. You didn’t know Changbin was coming over! Why are you never told about these things?! At this point, you should have assumed given it was a Friday night, but you’d still like some warning.

“Just because he’s used to it doesn’t mean he should be subjected to it!” Jisung went into the living room, arguing with you under his breath. Another stupid mini-fight for a stupid reason.

If anything, the information that Changbin was coming over would have only prompted you further to wear shorts and a thin tee shirt with no bra. As shy as you usually were, you still had the inexplicable want to be noticed by Changbin, even for a moment. Unfortunately, your brother adamantly tried to hide you from his friend, probably knowing Changbin always gets what he wants.

Jisung always babied you infront of Changbin, so you usually just stay in your room to protect yourself, and you’re sure Jisung would prefer that. Your parents worked late nights attempting to pay for their children’s college tuition, so when they came home well after midnight, they’d go straight to bed, uncaring for their adult children’s wearabouts. This gave Jisung the perfect opportunity to be as loud as he wanted in the living room, whether it was with a girl or one of his friends.

Tonight was going to be one of those loud nights, but that was nothing new. You always had a surefire way to fall asleep, regardless of the chatter going on downstairs.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

It was midnight. Why was he still here? You wanted to sleep more than anything, but the ruckus of your brother and his best friend chatting loudly downstairs prevented you from getting any sort of shuteye.

However, the only thing that can help you sleep is Changbin, or at least the thought of him. You reached to your bedside drawer and pulled out your bullet vibrator. If anything was going to help you sleep, it was an orgasm while imagining Changbin railing you like you’ve always wanted him to do since high school.

Although you hated to admit it, your thoughts of Changbin had been drifting towards the smuttier side since those days at the pool. All you could think about to get yourself off was Changbin, and no amount of other casual romantic partners could satiate your burning desire for Seo Changbin to fuck you on every surface in the house, including in your brother’s room while he was away. Every time you’d overhear Changbin talking about a new girl or his plentiful sex life, your face would flush red and you would wish that one day, he’d talk about you, but maybe not to Jisung. That would be too weird.

You undressed lazily, tossing your shirt and shorts onto the ground. You hesitated to take your underwear off, but there was no way you could properly get off with them on. Your panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor, and you spread your legs, tracing your fingers through your own heat, spreading your wetness across your holds. Your free hand eases the cold vibrator onto your clit, pressing the button at the top to turn it on. You bucked your hips into the toy, shutting your eyes and pretending that it’s Changbin holding it onto you, teasing you gently with every movement. His voice from downstairs echoed to your room, and the more you imagined his voice whispering the dirtiest sweet nothings into your ear, the closer you got to release.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

This was just supposed to be a fun little game of truth or dare, a common occurrence between Changbin and Jisung. Truth or dare was their way to let their feelings out and have a bit of fun. Before suggesting a movie, Jisung offered his friend one last truth or dare.

“Dare.” Changbin crosses his arms, waiting for Jisung to respond to his response.

After a moment, Jisung’s face contorted into a smile like that of the Grinch before he stole Christmas. Changbin knew nothing good could come from that expression, but nevertheless, he was interested in what awful, terrible, no good idea his friend had come up with.

“I dare you to go upstairs and scare my sister.”

“That’s it?” Changbin was beyond confused. He’d thought Jisung had come up with a dare so evil, so vile, so wicked, that only the devil himself could come up with it, but to be fair, Jisung could easily have been more sinful than the devil.

“That’s it!” Jisung clapped his hands together in seeming victory. “Sneak up those stairs, go to the second room on the right, barge in, and give my good little sister a good little scare.” Jisung wasn’t letting go of his smirk. He still looked sinister, even after explaining such a boring, and honestly disappointing, dare. Changbin sighed, shrugged, and stood up from his seat, but before he could turn around, Jisung had one last thing to say: “Don’t take too long up there! I want to finish this movie.”

Changbin rolled his eyes and trudged on, tip-toeing up the stairs so you didn’t even hear him coming. Jisung was vibrating with giddiness, but Changbin couldn’t see. All he saw was the door to your room, looking more menacing than ever before. It’s such a lighthearted prank, why was Changbin so scared now? He reached for the doorknob, turned it quietly, and pushed the door open as fast as possible.

His first scream was that of a shitty jump scare in a horror movie, but his second scream was that of terror with a high-pitched tone. Nothing could have prepared him to see you, his best friend’s sister, a freshman at the college he was a junior in, with a vibrator pressed against your nether region. You were totally naked aside from your shirt that was pushed up over your tits. The sight made his body go pale, and he felt his soul leave his body. He didn’t run away; he was just frozen, but you hardly would have noticed him if it hadn’t been for his stereotypically girly scream. You threw your duvet over yourself, wrapping yourself up like a burrito.

“What the fuck, Changbin?” You raised your voice slightly, hardly able to yell since your voice was hoarse from the orgasm you’d just been denied by the rude interruption. Changbin couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even think, let alone defend himself. He stood in your doorway, eyes blown out, hand practically glued to the door handle. Jisung’s manic laughing can be heard from downstairs, but both your mind and Changbin’s were too fuzzy to tune in, although your minds were fuzzy for differing reasons.

Changbin let go of the handle and shut the door behind him. You squirm under your blanket burrito, adjusting yourself and getting ready for an attack from Changbin, but he doesn’t come near you. His back hits the door, and he holds his chest where his heart is. Once he calms down for a moment, he’s finally ready to speak.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He takes a step towards you, but you lean back, scared of what he’s going to do to you. “Jisung dared me to scare you, and I- I didn’t know you were up here… doing that. I-”

“Changbin,” you cut him off, “just get out.”

He doesn’t move. He collects his thoughts one last time and takes another step closer to your bed. “Did you finish?”

“Changbin!” Your vocal cords had healed since being hoarse just seconds ago, and you were finally able to fully raise your voice.

“I’m gonna go back downstairs, but when that movie’s over, text me.” Fuck, you forgot you had his number. “I want to make it up to you.”

You’re beyond hesitant, but after a minute, you nod, and Changbin leaves your room without a word.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

An hour passes, and you reach over to your nightstand and grab your phone. Your messenger app stays open on the window with the empty text screen under Changbin’s contact. Ow, this is hurting your brain to think about. How could you ever get over yourself for fucking your brother’s friend, let alone the friend that’s watched you grow up. This was a mistake. Turn back now. Don’t text him, don’t text him, don’t text him.

Fuck it.

Your fingers fluttered over the screen, repeatedly typing and deleting the same message until it was perfect.

Is the movie over?

The ellipsis text bubble appears in the corner and your heart drops. You know your face is bright red, but you can’t help be excited while simultaneously feeling terrified.

The movie ended 10 minutes ago. You ready for me, princess?

No no no no no no no no

Ready when you are ;)

Oh my god oh my god oh my god

Come out to my car. I want to take you to my apartment so your brother can’t hear us.

No turning back now.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #skz changbin smut #stray kids changbin smut #kpop smut

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ilikemesometaetaes · 3 years

Text

Don’t Hold Your Breath ~ jjk

Chapter Six (M)

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: As the CEO of an international government security company, you have the world at your fingertips. Living life lavishly and extravagantly has become the norm. Behind closed doors, however, you host a past that renders you lonely and, quite frankly, miserable. It’s only a matter of time before your past comes back to bite you right in the ass.

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader (slight)

•••> Inspo: This fic is inspired by the song “SAVAGE ANTHEM” by PARTYNEXTDOOR. Thank you to @dariangarcia, @btssmutgalore, and @junghoseokit for supporting my work. To my mamas, Kaitlin, Adora, Lauren, Lanie, Lu, and Sher.

•••> Word Count: 7.81k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: angst, dirty talk, sexual teasing, heartbreak, cursing, pining, depression, breakup, emotional instability, arguing | Warnings are written specifically to chapter.

Taglist: @dariangarcia @apurpledheart @itsgottabeyoo-ngs @hytibm @namjinsbaby @ggukkieland @fan-ati--c

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, say so in a comment to this chapter or the DHYB Main Page, or send me an ask!

NAVIGATION: Chapter Five (M) <- | -> Chapter Seven (M) -> Mini-Masterlist -> Series Masterlist

•••> Official Playlist

~#~

“I put the dirt into dirtbag. Still got your jacket in my bag.”

THEN.

“Kookie!” You screamed in between breaths, eyes watering at the struggle. “Stop! Please!”

“No way!” His laugh was buried in your hair as he pressed his face against the back of your head. “Apologize!”

“For what?” You wheezed, attempting to get away from the curling fingers that tickled your ribs relentlessly. His long legs were wrapped around your body, restricting your movement and effectively taking away almost any opportunity to escape.

“For calling me a singing demon!” His hands continued their assault, sending you into another laughing fit. You fought helplessly against his tattooed arms.

You wanted to bite back, but the lack of air in your lungs prevented you from doing so. Your heart beat wildly, adrenaline spiking and arms flailing against his grip. Desperation flooding your mind, you wrapped your hand around the one that caged your neck and dug your nails into his flesh in hopes that the pain would get him to weaken his hold.

Jungkook only laughed again and hummed teasingly. “Oh, just like that. Harder, baby.”

Squirming didn’t help much, but when you shifted your hips and felt something poking into your spine, you huffed with defeat on the horizon. His obvious boner signified that he liked your struggle- a clear indicator that there was no way he was letting you go any time soon.

Unless…

With another shift of your hips to grind your ass upwards on him, seating his dick between your clothed ass cheeks, you let the situation take over your body with your brain rewiring into a horny mindset in order to distract him.

“Jungkook,” You whispered through a gasp, hoping the change of pace would throw him off. It was a stunt you always pulled; whether it be during an argument or sex, changing the pace would unfocus your boyfriend’s attention and give you the upper hand.

Sure enough, Jungkook’s embrace around you loosened so that he could give himself more room to slide his manhood against you.

“Oh, baby...” He grunted into your ear with a sliver of surprise tainting his lust.

Slowly, so as to not trigger him, you slid one hand down his stomach and slid two fingers below the waistband of his shorts. With your body on top of him, you couldn’t go further inward, so you settled on harshly scraping your nails across his hip while you dug your other hand harder into his forearm.

“Please.” You said with more air in your lungs. Finally, you could breathe.

“Are you begging for me to fuck you?” His dick twitched against you, desperate to bury itself between your thighs. “Or are you pleading for mercy? Tell me, Y/N,”

Jungkook flipped the two of you over so that your chest pressed into the bed and his entire body pinned you to the mattress with a swift cant of his hips. “Which one is it?”

For a moment, you rolled your eyes and struggled to look at him from your compromised position. It wasn’t until your eyes caught sight of the numbers on the clock sitting on the nightstand that you began struggling with a new burst of concern in your mind.

“Jungkook!” You wheezed. “The time!”

“Answer my question, Y/N. I can stay here all night. The stage can wait.”

“But you’ll be late!” Your voice increased in volume.

“Only if you continue avoiding my question…” Jungkook trailed off for a moment before he leaned down to murmur softly in your ear. “Well, I’ll only be late if you refuse to let go of your pride to ask for mercy and beg for my cock instead. I will rearrange your guts if that is what you’re asking for.”

You huffed in frustration, the desire to fuck your boyfriend dissipating with his words. You knew that Jimin would be through the roof by now, searching high and low for the lead singer of BTS to dress him properly.

“Mercy.” You finally grumbled in defeat, not wanting to delay him any longer.

Almost disappointedly, Jungkook grunted as he removed his weight from on top of you. “Fine.”

“I’ll go turn on the car.” You got up and swiped the keys off of your dresser, thankful that you were still dressed in your internship clothes.

“You go do that.” Jungkook chuckled whilst sliding his shorts off of his body to reveal a very obvious boner tenting his boxers that you pretended to be oblivious of. “You’re a master at turning me on so I trust you with that.”

“Ew.” You grimaced at the poorly-delivered joke. “That was terrible.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was clever.” Jungkook chided.

“Not at all.” You quipped. After you watched him slide a pair of jeans up his muscular legs, you turned to leave. You just needed to make sure he got dressed. “I’ll be in the car.”

~#~

Jimin’s knowledge of art always mystified you. His prowess wasn’t the type of intelligence like knowing how Picasso depicted the loss of innocence in Guernica or how the melting clocks of Dali introduced surrealism to the world of art- no, that was Taehyung’s strong-suit.

Jimin knew how to create his own version of art that left viewers wistful and in absolute awe by making a stage the vessel of his masterpieces.

As you sat on the balcony, overlooking the crowd while they all thrashed and jumped to the beat of Hoseok’s bass drum and the duo of guitars that was Namjoon and Jungkook, you just had to sit back in your chair and stare at the composition that was Jimin’s show.

Flashes of blue and red lights swept across the crowd, printing themselves temporarily into the crowd’s retinas so that when the opposite color came back, a light hue of purple was brought into the experience for a fleeting moment. Short puffs of fire whenever Namjoon strummed a power chord warmed your face, even from the distance in which you sat from the stage, and lasers shot through the crowd every time Yoongi penetrated the sounds of his group with the keys of his keyboard.

Graphics on the jumbotron behind the band, which were also of Jimin’s creation, outlined each member with curls of dark, tentacle-like wisps that matched the purple hue of the crowd with its raven color.

The last song of the setlist, Blue and Grey, was one you were all too familiar with. The lights faded to a soft blue for a moment as Taehyung began the first strong notes with his bass and the crowd in the venue whooped and hollered in excitement- Blue and Grey was BTS’ most popular song. A year and a half into their journey of being a band and they already had a crowd favorite.

As Taehyung continued his bass line with his guitar and tattooed strumming arm put on display by Jimin’s spotlight, Jungkook leaned into the mic and began strumming his own guitar.

“Where is my angel?”

You sighed and leaned forward in your seat, loving the way Jungkook’s voice carried throughout the performance hall.

Taehyung accompanied Jungkook with the intro until Hoseok joined in to transition into the first verse with his high hat and snare drum.

Once the chorus hit, you couldn’t help but stand from your seat as you began to feel the power of BTS’ music rocking the venue.

“I just wanna be happier. To melt the cold me.”

Jungkook’s neck veins bulged from his skin as he belted out the notes, sweat dribbling down his temples from exertion. Even as he huffed for breath in between his lines, the image of him dressed in all black and owning the stage while ripping his fingers through his guitar strings was one you could never get tired of.

The songs were full of angst- the dark, unspoken feelings that not many people talked about- and you loved how you heard them from Jungkook through music. If only he were this honest when it was just the two of you.

“Don’t say it’s okay, ‘cause it’s not okay.” Jungkook closed up his lines with a heartbreaking tone that every fan in the crowd sang along with as Namjoon prepared to sing his part. For a brief moment, your boyfriend met your eyes across the large venue.

“Please don’t leave me alone. It hurts too much.”

~#~

NOW.

You walked into your building, grateful for the warm protection it offered against the freezing winter of New York City.

Noticing the lack of staff around, being that there was only the elevator operator and the receptionist sitting behind the marble counter, you glanced at your watch to check just how long you spent working.

20:17, your watch read. You had been working in front of computer screens and reading contracts for almost 9 hours.

“Greetings, ma’am!” The receptionist stood from his chair. “May I be of any service to you this evening?”

You shook your head to the man and continued on your path to the elevator where the other employee in the lobby waited to take you up. “None needed. I’ll be leaving momentarily.”

“Very well. Please let me know if you need anything.” He sat back down and turned his gaze to the computer in front of him.

The sound of your pumps echoed against the vast but empty room until you stopped in front of the elevator where the woman already had the doors opening in preparation.

“Good evening, ma’am.” She said lowly.

“ ‘Evening.” You responded, stepping inside without another word. The woman kept the conversation at that, which you appreciated, so you smiled at her in gratitude after you placed your key in the penthouse slot. She returned your smile with her own before the doors closed to encase you in silence.

The ride up was quiet, warranting you to pull out your phone so that you could read over your conversation with Taehyung again.

Why am I wearing think socks? I hate thick socks.

Read at 8:01 pm

Trust me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.

Is that so? Why?

Read 8:03 pm

Just wear the damn socks, Y/N.

Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?

Read 8:04 pm

Negative, captain

Why am I a captain now

Read 8:04 pm

Cuz I said so. Now stop talking or you’ll make me give away my position

Alright.

Read 8:05 pm

I said stop talking

…?

Read 8:05 pm

Fucking hell.

You let a small giggle slip past your lips at how normal the text conversation was. It was as if you never stopped talking to him, slipping into the normalcy of having Taehyung back in your life as quickly as it had been to cut him out of it. You zoned out for a moment in thought.

The strange sensation of friendship didn’t take any getting used to as it settled itself back into your bones and filled your heart with warmth like it never left- like the ice covering the beating organ was only temporary. As you stood alone, staring shallowly at the increasing floor numbers, you smiled in content.

The elevator slowed as the cabin came close to reaching the top floor, bringing you back to your senses. Sliding your phone back into the pocket of your slacks, you looked up once the elevator doors opened, only to drop your briefcase to the floor loudly.

Jungkook sat against the wall beside your door with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. At the sound of your clumsiness clattering on the ground, his gaze snapped to you as he scrambled to stand up.

Anger flooded you immediately. You wanted to backhand him and rip his hair out. You wanted to scream and cry and lose your shit. However much you wanted to hurt him, though, you could not afford catching an assault charge on the man who defaced you once before.

There was a break of silence as you stood staring at him, unsure of how to handle the punch in your mood while the memories were forced to surface in your mind.

“Y/N…” Jungkook trailed, breaking the tangible barrier of tension. He took a step forward whilst obviously hesitating. “I-”

Instead of screaming at him, you went for the more sophisticated and controlled route to keep your lividity at bay whilst stopping his sentence in its tracks.

“How did you get up here?” It was a sensible question to ask. You just wanted to prevent him from deepening the conversation.

“I pulled some strings.” He murmured, looking down almost shyly, before piping up with more confidence. “But listen, I-”

“Save it.” You cut him off again, unable to control your facade much longer. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

His anxious expression turned worried- desperate. You didn’t miss the way his eyes became more expressive than you’ve ever seen them. “Please, Y/N.”

“Please what, Jungkook?”

“Please just give me a moment to speak.”

For a beat, you pondered his request. Taehyung’s words weighed heavily on your mind. We needed to talk.

Fuck talking. You have been done talking for ages.

“Wow.” You scoffed coldly, ice barriers slamming back into place over your heart. Taehyung had been able to melt them away, but Jungkook put them right back with fierce determination to completely ruin you. “You just want to take everything from me, huh?”

“Y/N, what-“ He blinked cluelessly, caught off-guard by your sarcasm.

“I gave you years to speak, Jungkook. I gave you everything.” You stepped forward, the boiling rage overtaking your body, and came to a stop in front of him with the fury of a charging bull. You wanted him to feel small and vulnerable.

“What else could I possibly give you? I have nothing left.” He took everything. The veins in your body were emptied and exhausted of every single ounce of energy to fight for someone.

You were unaware of the way Jungkook’s fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white and his nails dug into his palms.

You failed to notice how much he trembled under your gaze, physically struggling to protect his butterfly from your wrath.

Your vicious swings at the dainty being of hope were nothing compared to what he, himself, had done to it. Jungkook found it ironic that you gave him an aspect that he was just barely strong enough to protect yet took the darker things from inside him and destroyed them as if they were mere placeholders- as if you were his puppeteer.

You were too stressed to realize the toll it took on Jungkook to keep his act together. He needed to keep the door open long enough to be your friend. Anything to prevent losing you. Earlier, his demons swooped in and overtook him, suffocating him to silence once again, but for the first time, they ebbed away at the mere thought of you.

As he walked down the street with his stage persona flowing, the simple thought of your name empowered his butterfly to beat its wings so fiercely that it blew away all of the impending smoke and dark tentacles of smog that threatened to overtake his vision.

Once he thought of you, he thought of everything.

Your anger was justified. He understood that now. Watching you huff breath after breath following your question was somehow relieving- you still cared enough to be pissed off. Jungkook forced himself to look on the bright side of the encounter with you; he made himself see that you were still passionate about the past. You were passionately upset and he couldn’t be happier.

He had seen you with Taehyung. He saw the way you were happy again. Jungkook wanted a part of that because he was too selfish to back off and stay dormant in your life- too determined to make you silence his demons.

Even if it was just as a friend. He could deal with that.

“You’re right.” Jungkook stated.

You paused in your tracks at the concession. Anger no longer blazing- staying right where it was- you quirked an eyebrow at him. Any time the two of you fought, he would never come even close to alluding that you were right.

“You’re right and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

An apology.

Words always seemed minimal to you. Unless to communicate information, you found that words filled with feeling didn’t mean much from someone you didn’t know.

After Jungkook, anyone that told you they loved you was promptly deemed a liar. Kate worked hard to make sure you were aware of the fact that she would actually take a bullet for you because of how much she loved you. She spent moment after moment proving to you that she cared deeply even though she didn’t have to put up with you.

Your parents, despite not talking to you much, expressed their love and gratitude whenever you sent them money. You knew they were hard workers like you and didn’t have time to worry about trivial things like words. Instead of taking the easy way out by simply telling you that they loved you, they showed you.

But Jungkook, who claimed to love you in the way that a lover would- the only person to actually do so- lied.

You could never trust the words in that way again.

Still, you couldn’t help but be taken by surprise.

“I’m right? Really?”

“Y/N, you’ve been right since the beginning. I took and took and just stopped giving back. I understand that you’re angry and I want to fix it so that you don’t hate me anymore. I want to make it right.”

You were silent. You hadn’t expected him to admit his fault so easily. Jungkook changing the pace of your conversation ruined your momentum, sending you stumbling and scrambling for thoughts.

Jungkook sighed for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line as he let his eyes drop to the floor in your silence. He wasn’t about to lose the opportunity to elaborate further, though.

“Look, I know I fucked up. Bad. I know you can’t possibly forgive me right now, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to you.”

Your automatic reaction to being emotionally pushed came back, closing you down and disguising you as a cold woman.

“What the fuck do you know? What the fuck do you know about how badly you fucked up? I don’t need your lame-ass apology, Jungkook. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Stop pretending that you do. Sure, we fucked a little and kissed a few times, but that’s all that it was.” You grit out the last few words, lying through your teeth. “Now please move. You’re blocking the door.”

Shockingly, Jungkook obeyed. He stepped aside and clasped his hands behind his back without another word, allowing you to walk to your door and open it.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back.

No matter how many times you repeated the words in your head, commanding yourself to abide by the mantra as if it were law, the emotions in your head managed to break through and force your head to turn back after stepping through the doorway.

Jungkook stood as still as a statue, staring at you with a blank expression that was almost eerie. You glanced down quickly, unable to maintain the eye contact, and noticed that his knuckles were clenched.

It was almost as if he was a completely different person because of the fact that his appearance was drastically different from that of BTS Jungkook. The man that stood in front of you was no rockstar. He was not an idol nor a role model that millions looked up to.

He was a scared boy. The fear that riddled his eyes was extremely difficult to miss and it made him seem almost small whilst standing in the small junction between the elevator and your penthouse.

You shut the door in his face impulsively, hoping that you wouldn’t have to see him again.

Backing away from the door slightly, you waited until you heard the elevator signal that its doors were closing before going to look through the peephole. You finally released your breath and slumped against the door when you saw that he had left.

Without his presence putting you on edge and keeping you on your toes, you could finally reflect on the conversation that just transpired.

He admitted his wrongdoings and apologized for them. He showed you his belly and became vulnerable. He admitted defeat.

Jungkook wasn’t an apologetic person in the slightest; he wasn’t a forgiving one either. In all the years that you had known him, he was headstrong and stubborn- if you looked past the part where he closed himself off and cheated, of course.

This Jungkook, the one you had just spoken to, was not the one you remember. Maybe you were right. Maybe you didn’t know him anymore.

Your phone vibrating in your pocket distracted you from pondering any further over the epiphany, prompting you to pull it out and fumble with it to get away from the confusing subject. You were thankful for the distraction.

Kim Taehyung (BTS)

I’ll be out front in 15 mins

Cursing internally, you left the idea of Jungkook behind you and rushed to change into clothes better suited for the cold weather.

It was a given that a small smile pulled at the corner of your lips when you slid thick tube socks over your ankles. You hadn’t actually worn tube socks in ages because they didn’t exactly go with your usual professional style of suits and heels.

You zipped your coat up about three-fourths of the way before turning to look at yourself in your mirror with a huff.

Suddenly, you were bombarded with a memory as it flashed before your eyes.

“You know you look good, babe.”

You giggled as Jungkook came up behind you to look at you in the reflection, setting his chin on your shoulder while he used his tongue to toy with the hoop pierced into his lip.

“Thanks, Kook. Just want to look my best is all.” You met his eyes in your bedroom mirror, smiling softly.

“Well, you look beautiful.”

You were left staring at the empty space where his face was, unsure of how to react as you stumbled back from the intrusion. Another meaningless scene came barging into your senses before you could process the first.

“Wow…” You trailed off as you looked at the angry red spot on Jungkook’s chest. A brand new tattoo, the size of your hand, raised out of his skin and shined under the luminescent light of the tattoo parlor. With the tattoo artist cleaning up his station behind the two of you, you were left to admire his beauty in his reflection.

Jungkook stood shirtless in front of the full-length mirror as he smiled brightly at the last tattoo to complete his set. Your eyes drank in the way each exhibit of inked art contrasted with his smooth, caramel expanse of skin while you stood behind him.

The new piece, which was almost large enough to touch the Chinese characters stamped onto the side of his neck and the back of his ear, was a depiction of an angel falling from the heavens. The detail in the blackening feathers attached to the angel’s back was mesmerizing, drawing all of the attention from the rest of the tattoos covering Jungkook’s chest.

“Is there any special meaning behind it?” You asked, knowing that your boyfriend had a few meaningless tattoos that were part of his ‘woke-up-and-it-was-there’ collection.

For a moment, Jungkook stayed silent as he studied the work of art in the mirror. It wasn’t until you called his name again that he answered your question while meeting your gaze in the reflection.

“Nah. It just looked really cool to me.”

You pressed your hand to your forehead and looked away from your mirror, wondering why- now, of all times- you just had to remember those small memories.

You didn’t miss him- you know you didn’t. But something within you twisted at the thought of being with him- the memory of how it felt to be his.

The disconnect between the feelings of your heart and the thoughts of your mind, ever so obvious, shifted. His apology was unexpected, to say the least, but it was also surprisingly heartfelt and pulling on your need to forgive.

Saved by the bell, your landline phone began to ring.

You rushed to the bedside table and grabbed the phone from its dock, pulling it to your ear.

“Ms. Y/L/N? It’s the front desk. Mr. Kim Taehyung is here and waiting for you.”

“Got it. Thank you. I’ll be down in a moment.” You hung up the phone and grabbed your wallet and keys before shuffling over to your desk to grab your briefcase on instinct.

“Wait,” you spoke aloud, laughing at yourself and withdrawing your reach. “I don’t need that.”

As you opened the door to your penthouse, the sound of something lightly hitting your door had you looking down.

A small, navy blue bag, the size of your palm, swung from the doorknob and hit lightly against the wood from the momentum of you opening your door. Confused, you unhooked the loop from the doorknob and looked inside the bag to find a familiar-looking box inside.

Gingerly, you pulled it out and opened it. In the way of the box’s contents was a folded piece of notebook paper with your name scrawled across the top in Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

You held your breath after reading the note and looked down at the small charm.

Since you gave me yours, I’ll give you mine. -jk

In the fabric of the satin display lay the familiar gold chain that Jungkook gifted you those few years ago, but, instead of the small J that you were so familiar with, lay your own initial.

You knew Jungkook’s way with words well enough to know that the small note connected his intentions to the chain. You were instantly pulled back to the night that he gifted the necklace to you in the first place.

“It’s beautiful. Happy one-year, babe.” You whispered onto his lips with a smile.

After you sat back into your seat, Jungkook walked to your side of the table to put the chain around your neck. “I obviously have the describe how much this necklace means so that you never take it off.”

You laughed. “I wouldn’t even dream of taking it off, Kook.”

“I still need to explain. It was like a message from heaven when I saw them in the jewelry store.” He pouted, returning to his seat. “So the idea with these is that we’re wearing parts of each other. You’re wearing the part of me that belongs to you and I’m wearing the part of you that belongs to me.”

Jungkook continued as he raised his glass. “So even though you think this necklace is yours because it’s your letter, it’s actually mine.”

You cocked your head in confusion, struggling to understand the concept. “What are you talking about?”

“It sounded so much better in my head, I swear.”

You understood the idea now.

Push off the emotions. Don’t think about them.

You were hellbent on ignoring the weakness, knowing full well what path you would go down if you let them get to you.

Instead, you made your way down to the lobby with the bag gripped tightly in your mitten-clad hands, heading to the desk with determination furrowing your brow. Even as Taehyung stood from the small sofa in the lobby upon seeing you, you did not spare him a glance.

Forcefully, you thrusted the bag into the receptionists’ face, internally wincing at your rude gesture.

“Please put this in the lost and found. I have no idea where it came from.”

The receptionist did well at hiding his expression, however, you could still see a sense of somber recognition behind his eyes. You decided not to press him seeing as you want to avoid the topic of Jungkook like the plague.

“Understood, ma’am.” He took the bag from your grasp before you had the chance to rethink addressing his slip of emotion, placing it in a drawer by his knee. He looked back up and gestured to Taehyung after locking the drawer. “Mr. Kim is here for you.”

You sighed in a mild sense of accomplishment, forcing yourself to shut out the regret and sadness for giving away a formerly precious memory, before turning to face Taehyung with a small smile to mask your inner turmoil. Your smile faltered when you noticed that Taehyung mirrored the same expression on his face that the receptionist wore.

“What?” You asked, walking to him.

“I just-” He looked down for a moment, scowling, and you noticed he had placed his small barbell back into his eyebrow. “-nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Why won’t you tell me anything?” The two of you had walked to the door, stopping before going out into the cold so that you could finish your conversation.

“Like I said before, it’s not my place to say or judge.”

Taehyung opened the door to an icy gust of wind before you could protest, chilling you into a mind-numbing stupor as you whispered, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Good god, it is freezing.” Taehyung mumbled, linking an arm around your body and ushering you towards his SUV across the sidewalk.

Once sat inside the warmth of the cabin, you shivered in satisfaction at the heat gracing your body.

“Please tell me we’re not going to be outside for whatever we’re doing.” You pleaded to him. The light from the city was filtered by the darkened car windows, however, you could still see Taehyung’s shoulders moving up and down when he chuckled.

“Unfortunately, we are, but fortunately, I brought some heat packs for us.”

You whined in protest, looking up to the GPS screen in front of the driver to see if you could identify where the two of you were going. Without a route plotted, you were left even more curious.

About twenty minutes of small talk and a brief roast session targeting Hoseok later, you sat in front of the ice skating rink at the Rockefeller Center.

“We’re ice skating?” You asked, suddenly in shock. You hadn’t been ice skating since-

No. Stop it. Your mind warred with itself as it suppressed the memory threatening to spill over into your eyes.

“You’re quite the detective.” Taehyung’s sentence was drenched in sarcasm, functioning as the perfect distraction, and prompted you to lightly shove him with a giggle as you exited the vehicle.

“I thought I was a captain.” You pouted against the cold, pulling your hat down on your head even further in hopes of retaining your body heat and warmth from the van.

“You are.” Taehyung laughed again. “Captain Detective.”

You only rolled your eyes at his playfulness before you turned to face the rink from the sidewalk. A person passing behind you and bumping into your back lightly had you cursing New York City’s busy and bustling population.

Seeing all of the people on the rink, you instantly remembered that you did not inform Jay of your whereabouts.

“Do we have security?” Worry riddled your brain as you turned to look at him with your eyes widening in a panic. You became hyperaware of all of the possible outcomes to Taehyung being identified in such a crowded place.

Taehyung sighed as he walked you up to the ticket booth. “We don’t. I just want to have a normal and plain but fun time with my friend- without someone glaring at me like they don’t want to be here while they breathe down my neck.”

Despite understanding his statement, you couldn’t help the automatic stress to being in public without any form of protection.

“Taehyung,” You warned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N,” He mocked your tone childishly before leveling it to his regular voice. “Relax, weirdo. We’re here to have fun and people are too busy having their own fun to notice us.”

“I doubt that.”

It wasn’t until you got your rental skates tightly secured onto your feet and began walking toward the ice that Taehyung mentioned a vital detail that he definitely should have mentioned prior to arriving at the center.

“You what?” You were baffled to say the least.

“I can’t skate.” He sheepishly brought his hand to the back of his head and adjusted his trapper hat under your scrutiny.

“Then why did we come?” You were almost yelling at that point.

“Because Brian told me that you liked ice skating!” Taehyung gripped at your fingers tightly, anxiety getting the best of him.

Fucking hell, Brian.

“Did he?” Your laugh was almost hysterical because of how wrong he was. You were becoming increasingly hesitant about giving your personal assistant a raise now.

Still, it was worth the effort. Brian was just trying to help the world’s most popular bassist when he came to him in need of information. It was a decent attempt.

“Yeah,” Taehyung huffed. “He did.”

“Well, Tae, I’ll have you know,” You moved towards the ice rink with determination. “I haven’t been ice skating in ages and I hardly like it. Hopefully, I still have muscle memory.”

“Oh god.” Taehyung groaned, tipping his head back as the feeling of imminent and utter chaos ensued. “Fucking hell, Brian.”

As soon as you stepped on the ice, you realized that you were still perfectly coordinated enough to complete the task.

Taehyung, on the other hand, clung to the walls like the world was attempting to swallow him into the ground. Dutifully, you stood next to him with a cautious hand on his back in the case that he went tumbling.

The sight was one to behold.

Kim Taehyung, hard core rockstar- the physical definition of a stereotypical ‘bad boy’- with tattoos littering his skin and a glistening eyebrow piercing that was winking at you from under his gray trapper, stood hunched over and afraid as he moved baby step-by-baby step to proceed further around the rink. You couldn’t help but giggle as the man who possessed the prowess of an elegant panther on stage adopted the likes of a stumbling newborn giraffe within the span of five minutes.

You were still concerned for him despite how funny it was. Tentatively, you reached your hand to grip his shoulder and urged him to look at you.

“Tae, are you okay? We can do something else if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay.” He wheezed in effort. “I got this.”

Making a show out of how brave he was, Taehyung stood up straight on shaky legs and began progressing forward by attempting to walk on the ice.

“I can show you how t-” Taehyung cut off your offer before you could finish it.

“I’ve been shown countless times how to skate and the best I can do is walk and maybe slide forward a little. I’m a lost cause, Y/N.” Even though he seemed upset, Taehyung couldn’t help but crack a smile at how clumsy he was.

You smiled pitifully at your clumsy friend before you stepped in front of him. “Here, hold onto my shoulders and we’ll slide forward together.”

All Taehyung could do was begrudgingly agree, hating the idea of having to lean on you for support but wanting to remain close to you for the majority of the night. Once he placed his hands tightly on your shoulders, you moved.

At first, you skated slowly so that Taehyung could adjust to the feeling of being pulled forward. Once he got the hang of keeping his legs locked so that you could move around easier, you skated at a normal speed.

After about ten minutes of joking around and catching Taehyung’s slipping form a handful of times, your mind was left free and without defense.

You hadn’t realized how vulnerable you were because of it.

“Y/N, slow down! I can’t go that fast!”

Your breathing came to a halt at the voice that echoed in your ears.

“Here, hold my hand and we’ll skate together.”

Panicking, you rushed your mind to shut it out. No. Stop.

Unknowingly, the chaos in your mind and the desperate need to get away from the memories had you gradually increasing your own speed to subconsciously escape your thoughts.

Taehyung’s nervous laugh and call of your name in warning fell on deaf ears while you furrowed your eyebrows in concentration.

“See? It’s easy. Just step and lean. Step- and lean.” His hand clutched yours as if he was trying to squeeze all of the blood from your fingers but you only squeezed back in reassurance.

“Don’t let me fall, please.”

Taehyung’s skate crashing into the back of yours served as the perfect distraction, yet it only lasted for a split second as the two fo you went tumbling to the ice in a hauntingly familiar manner.

In the process of falling, Taehyung had managed to wrap his arms around your waist and twist his body so that he could take most of the impact from the ice. Landing on top of him with an ‘oof’ reminded you of the last time you went ice skating.

Even with your face mere centimeters from your friend’s, all you saw was him.

Taehyung’s small puffs of air against your lips were an indicator of how close you were to kissing him. Truly, you could kiss him if you wanted to, needing only to relax your neck and let your head fall to close the rest of the minimal gap between you. He looked up at you with wide eyes, holding onto your gaze with an unreadable expression on his face.

All you saw, however, was a small mole dotting the underside of his lips. Fuck, you wanted to kiss Taehyung and rid yourself of the nightmare, but you couldn’t shake the sensation of how wrong it felt to kiss anyone but Jungkook.

“Y/N,” Taehyung called your name cautiously and pulled you from your thoughts. Instantly, your eyes welled with tears at the realization of how fucked you were.

You yanked yourself from him with abandon, needing to get far away from the reminder that you couldn’t move on.

Kim Taehyung was mature. He was kind and respectful- everything you could ask for in a man- yet the thoughts of Jungkook and the good memories you had with him outweighed the bad, preventing you from truly letting go.

Before Taehyung could protest, you stood and left him on the ice, making for a quick exit. You wanted to go back and help him up so that he wasn’t in danger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face in this setting.

Instead, you skated off the rink and walked to the skate rental area, plopping down on the bench weakly to untie the laces. Once you did so, you set them on the counter and waited for your boots with your eyes on the ground. You didn’t want anyone to see you on the brink of crying.

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s voice was loud and attention-grabbing. You had half the mind to be concerned that he would cause people to notice him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you finally got your boots and rushed to put them on. Taehyung was finally off the ice when you slid the first boot on.

“Y/N,” He called your name again, awkwardly approaching you with the blades still on his feet. “Please, talk to me.”

You could only sniffle in response and continue to put your boots back on, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You’d kept them at bay thus far but Taehyung was making it extremely difficult as his comfort approached you. The welcome yet heartbreaking aura he exhumed paired with your teetering emotional stability wouldn’t fare well in such a public setting.

Without hesitation, you stood and walked away once you were done securing your shoes back on your feet. Again, you felt the urgent need to be alone.

And again, Taehyung was right behind you as he ran without putting his shoes back on.

“Y/N!” He grabbed you as he called your name more sternly, forcing you to face him. Your eyes met his briefly before you looked back down to the pavement and cursed yourself once a tear slipped out. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Because I-” Your breath caught in your throat as it constricted due to the beginning of a sob building in your chest. You cleared your throat and struggled to breathe your way through your response- one you had trouble communicating. “-I just can’t.”

Taehyung grimaced, looking around with concern, before he ushered your body to begin walking away from the busy area.

Once you were a good distance down the street, he grabbed both of your shoulders and forced you to face him once again. Away from the well-lit area of the ice rink, the only light that shone in the middle of the dark night was that of the street lights. With bated breath, you looked up at your friend with your mouth closed tightly so that the sob in your chest wouldn’t come barging past your lips.

The pain was nearly unbearable. It anguished you, knowing that you were stupid enough to think that you could eventually move on from Jungkook. It pained you, being aware of the fact that Taehyung had offered himself to you and you did nothing but continue to look at Jungkook.

But most of all, it hurt that you still wanted Jungkook.

If only you could reach into your chest and tear your heart out so that you couldn’t feel anymore. If only you could shut off your feelings so that it didn’t agonize you like this. If only it were that easy.

Under the light of the street lamps with Taehyung’s look of pity- the one he held as he looked at you across the club on that dreadful night those few years ago- on you, you broke.

As you began sobbing, Taehyung pulled you against his body and backed up into the darkness to give you the privacy to cry without being seen.

The pain stabbed your heart repeatedly; quick blows, shallow at first, became increasingly deep as you drowned in the memories of what once was.

Falling so passionately in love became your biggest regret. For so long, you hated the idea. You hated the fact that you still loved Jungkook notwithstanding the things he had done. You denied the fact until you started seeing the good memories again- until it was an unavoidable and objective truth.

The truth that you still loved him.

As Taehyung held you tightly in his embrace while you held your hands to your face and dug your nails into your skin, you sobbed uncontrollably at how completely and royally fucked you were.

“W-why-” You blubbered into your palms. “-why do I-I still lo-ove him?”

“Because your heart wants what it wants, Y/N. You have no control over that.”

At this point, you had to tell him how you felt- how you truly felt.

“I w-wish that it wa-anted you. I’m so sorry, T-Tae.”

“Hey, now. Don’t say that. It’s a waste of time to wish for things that you have no control over. Don’t waste a wish on something stupid like that.” Taehyung pressed his face to the top of your head, pressing his lips there to leave a small kiss. “Besides, I have someone waiting for me back home so you don’t need to worry anymore.”

Instantly, you looked up at him in shock while still hiccuping. “You do?”

“Of course.” Taehyung laughed warmly, smiling down at you. “I wasn’t gonna be stuck on you forever. One way or another, you move on.”

“It’s been years since I’ve even seen him, Tae. The fact that I still haven’t moved on despite that has to tell you something.”

“Which is why I told you that you still need to talk to him. You can’t move on or do anything about the way you feel unless you communicate it.” He pulled back to bend his body to become eye-level with you so that he could look you in the eyes as he spoke. “There’s things you don’t know.”

For a moment, you weighed his words in your mind. If they’re things that Taehyung can’t tell you because they’re ‘not his place’ to say, then you figure that the matter must be a serious one. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. It wasn’t long before you gave in.

“Yeah…” You trailed off in hesitation, suddenly regretting shutting out Jungkook. “I guess I do need to talk to him.”

“Please just… take your time and be patient with him.” Taehyung winced slightly. “He’s hot-headed but he’s a lot better than he was before. I promise you that.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Taehyung.” You scowled as you backed out of his embrace.

“You know I don’t. I would never suggest that you talk to him if he was the same as he was before.”

A few beats of silence passed before you asked the question that had been nagging at your mind since your revelation of remaining love for the lead singer of BTS.

“Do you think we still have a chance?”

Taehyung answered immediately. “That’s not my place to judge. All I know is that you guys did something sad like being broke up even though you had life.”

“Good god, Tae,” You huffed out a laugh. “Are you quoting Lil Dicky right now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Taehyung crossed his arms and let out a small ‘hmph’ as he lightly stomped his foot onto the sidewalk. “And you can’t stop me.”

For a while, Taehyung let you catch your breath and calm down while looking up and down the street. It seemed as if he was planning something.

Before you could process what he was doing, Taehyung took you by your arm, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and began walking across the street. You looked up in the direction of your path and noticed that you were heading towards the quaint coffee shop that seemed to be the only open place at the current hour.

Your eyes hurt from crying. Your chest ached from sobbing and hiccuping. Your heart and head hurt as they came to blows with each other. You were slowly beginning to freeze as the calming of your emotions slowed your heart and cooled your body. It was so fucking cold.

You could use a coffee right about now.

~#~

Thank you for reading, reader! If you’d like to check out the rest of my work, feel free to visit my Masterlist!

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aerois · 3 years

Text

Remarried Empress: Sovieshu Contextualized and Navier the Unreliable Narrator (SPOILERS!)

So recently I started reading Remarried Empress on WEBTOON. Honestly the whole premise wasn’t my cup of tea and I was solely reading it because it was part of an event where I could get free coins (lol). But then... I got hooked. I got invested. Started drinking in chapters whenever and wherever I could, and even now I still crave more. I wanted Navier to have some semblance of a happy ending (and, let’s be honest, I wanted to drag that precious little bitch Trashta by her fucking hair across the yard). At first it was mostly that. Raging at Trashta and her Simperor, pondering at Heinley’s true intentions, drooling over Kaufman.

And then, I noticed something odd. I noticed-- the strangest thing-- Sovieshu seemed to be... not as enamored with his mistress as meets the eye. And there was even some hinting that his feelings for Navier weren’t what we assumed.

I have to preface this: I don’t condone Sovieshu’s crappy actions. He’s an idiot, and acts very poorly as a husband. And there’s no excuse for cheating. Absolutely not! So I don’t want this post to come across like In Defense of Sovieshu, because it’s not. But I do think that our view, the reader’s view, of Sovieshu, is warped. And this is mainly because we see the story through Navier’s eyes of course, but we forget that every individual person is fallible. Every person, at some point, harbors false assumptions that color their concepts of truth and reality. Put shortly, Navier is human, and therefore is not a reliable narrator at some points. Especially concerning her husband. We see Sovieshu entirely through the eyes of his wronged wife in the webcomic. Pin that: in the webcomic. Did you know the webcomic is actually based on a mobile game? Yes, it is! And I downloaded it! And I’m playing it! And... I’m actually... hating Sovieshu less??????????

Ok, ok, put the pitchforks down! Hear me out! I’m not saying any of the stuff he did was okay! But Navier’s narration of the story paints him as this cold, detached man who grew to hate his wife so much that he flew into the arms of some hussy for warmth and then just cast his wife aside and deliberately acted like a jerk just because he wanted her to suffer. And there’s a grain of truth to that. There are points where Sovieshu feels bitter and does or says something waspish. But it’s not as black and white as you might assume. I played the mobile game, and decided to take Sovieshu’s route out of spite. I opened this app, saw it was an otome with this garbage-fire, cheating sack of shit for a romance option and thought “Hah! The nerve. Probably some semi-abusive dirtbag route aimed to appeal to girls who like men who treat them badly. You know, that mutually abusive relationship appeal that some girls like because drama.” And I needed to rack up in-game currency anyway (it’s like usual mobile games, where when you wanna make cool choices you gotta cough up cash unless you “diamond-mine” on crappy stories to save up the meager bits of free currency the app gives you for playing) so I figured I’d blast through the Sovieshu route and skip onto my darling Kaufman in playthrough 2.

And then the smoke genuinely compelling character development got me. So I could run y’all through Navier’s version of the events, but you already know that. For Sovieshu though? Here’s the kicker: this idiot has had a raging passion for his wife slowly building up for years throughout their entire lives, and only realizes it about halfway through the events of the story. This idiot, this buffon, this absolute brain-dead dolt... didn’t even realize he was pining over his own wife until he was about to explode from the desperation from it all. God, I wish I was joking. Lemme break it down for you:

Sovieshu’s POV: He and Navier are introduced as kids and are told they’ll be married someday. Life partners. They are raised in tandem to respect and care for one another. Kinda smacks of grooming (go mom and dad!) but whatever, that’s the background. These kids are mentally regarding each other as spouses their entire conscious lives. And Sovieshu, as he grows, quickly comes to realize his intended is a selfless girl who holds everything inside. The first spark of his affection for her is wrapped in this: that Sovieshu longs for Navier to take off her “perfect princess” mask and let herself be vulnerable with him. He admires her intellingence, her grace, and her devotion to her country. He looks at her and sees someone that inspires him. He craves the opportunity to comfort and protect her. He waits, and these opportunities come in small instances. But they get older, their burdens get heavier, and like most young women, Navier gets better at pretending nothing is wrong with her and putting everyone else first. Sovieshu feels more distant from her. But that desire to break through her wall still stands.

They marry, but Navier, in her infinite wisdom, makes the assumption that this marriage is entirely political (despite...the fact... that they were raised together??? they were literally best friends their entire lives??? are y’all seeing how this could be confusing for him???) and that there are absolutely no feelings involved on Sovieshu’s side. Expect there’s that little problem. That little problem. Of Navier’s absolute inability to be vulnerable. And so she starts this marriage all Elsa-Conceal-Don’t-Feel convinced that her husband (whom she is secretly in love with, shocker) holds no warmth for her because she’s never received any from him.

Now I’ll acknowledge that this is a two way street, where Sovieshu fails as well. Should Navier have made a mature decision and asked for love and support when she needed it? Yes. Should Sovieshu have offered anyway, despite not knowing that she wanted it at all? Yes. They’re both in the wrong here. They’re both too passive, too afraid.

So the first few years of their marriage pass by like this. And Navier kinda melts into more of a depressed state over it, while Sovieshu becomes frustrated. But he doesn’t know why. He hasn’t quite put his finger on the fact that HE’S IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE, GEE WHAT A SURPRISE BUDDY. And then... the little ingenue comes in. Trashta, with her crocodile tears, oversharing of emotions, co-dependent as all get-out. You see where I’m headed, right? It’s not just that she’s the opposite of Navier that gets Sovieshu hooked. It’s that she gives him that opportunity to unburden all this pent up romantic frustration. He can comfort, and protect, and wipe away the tears of a woman who loves him... And for a while, it’s intoxicating. That itch is finally being scratched.

Or so it seems. Because sooner or later, Sovieshu realizes that this woman is not his wife. And she’s a bit clingy, and clueless, and she’s... well, she’s not his wife. She’s not his wife.

“Oh, dear God...” the idiot finally realizes. “I don’t want this hussy. I want my wife!”

Ding ding ding! You did it! And it only took you--what? 20 years? After all this time, Sovieshu (and the audience playing his route) realizes. He’s not cheating because he’s bored, or because he hates his wife, or because he’s Inherently An Asshole And That’s What Assholes Do. He’s cheating because he’s using this woman as a stand-in for his wife. He’s been looking straight through this woman and seeking his wife the entire time. He’s cheating because he’s stupid and repressed and misguided and human. And again, that doesn’t excuse it. He still cheated, and that’s something he needs to spend a life-time making up for. It’s a mistake, and a big one. But it’s not fueled by a malicious hatred or a desire to hurt her. It’s fueled by confusion and fear. And, strangely enough, a desire to perform love for his wife.

So anyway, this stupid dweeb finally wakes up and realizes that no matter how much he plays around with the Town Skank, it doesn��t slate that thirst for the woman he’s spent his life growing to love. And that he actually, truly loves her to begin with. Now at this point, Navier was away travelling, doing queenly stuff. And he gets a message from a servant-- his wife is home. This boy books it. This man throws down what he’s doing, sprints across the imperial palace, to stumble at the feet of his wife; red-faced and breathless, absolutely undone. This man is screaming for his wife on the inside and now nothing he can do will quiet it. And his wife, ever the perfect pinnacle of a monarch, just raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him and wonders what’s got him in such a tizzy.

This is where the difference between the narratives hits especially hard. Navier has absolutely no clue that her husband is a hair-thin thread of self-control away from all of this just completely spilling out of him. She looks at him and sees a tormentor; someone who’s treating her like a used doll. And he sees this Goddess that’s been hiding in plain sigh the whole time. He sees his sins and repents before this, his wife, his almighty Goddess. But he doesn’t know what to do. She’s still been hurt by him, Trashta is still in their lives, and damn it all, he’s still frustrated. He still feels bitter and abandoned because even after everything, even after the years of marriage, his wife just seems so unaffected by him. This is where Navier’s “perfect queen” image that she tries so hard to curate really bites her in the ass.

These two dumbasses are hopelessly in love with each other but they’re deadlocked in an endless cycle of letting their prides get in the way. Navier doesn’t want to be vulnerable. Sovieshu doesn’t want to compromise, doesn’t know how to not lash out in anger when he’s really feeling sad. Unlike Navier, he can express emotions-- but not in a heathy way. So he says something mean, does something kinda shitty. And Navier thinks it’s because he delights in her suffering. So Sovieshu’s over here in his head like a cranky little child that’s mad at mommy because she’s on the phone, and Navier is over there in her head wondering why on earth her husband can’t notice a love that she’s never actually expressed to him. And it’s just terrible. But kind of hilarious. Mostly sad and terrible. But defintely hilarious.

To further illustrate this: even a lot of Sovieshu’s actions, for that matter, get warped by Navier’s unreliable narration. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD. THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! In the chapter where Trashta is stabbed, Sovieshu immediately screams for guards to surround Navier. So I’ll sum up their thought processes here.

Navier: Oh my God, I can’t believe this asshole. Calling the guards? He really fuckin thinks I did this?! Jerk! Asshole! He really thinks I’d arrange for a pregnant woman to be stabbed!! He’s probably deliberately framing me too, so he can get me out of the way and live happily ever after with her!

Sovieshu: OH MY GOD, MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE COULD GET STABBED NEXT SOMEONE HELP well actually maybe she had something to do with it? nah. prolly not. but even if she did idgaf I LOVE MY WIFE, I’LL COVER FOR YOU BABY I’LL FORGIVE WHATEVER. GUARDS, FIND WHO DID THE STABBING SO THEY DON’T STAB MY PERFECT WIFE NEXT

Like I wish I was joking, but that’s how it read. Anyway, I’m not done with the comic or the game yet. But Sovieshu’s motivations aren’t all as they seem. And while he’s not a perfect husband, he has the capacity to mature, let down his pride, and make steps toward atoning to his wife. I honestly and genuinely believe this marriage could be salvageable if they could come clean with each other. A lot of people want to root for Kaufman or Heinley, and I get it. Those two would probably treat her well. But the fact stands that these two are married, and surprisingly, they both actually still hold a spark of love for one another. If Sovieshu could genuinely repent, and demonstrate this to Navier, they would attain the happy marriage with each other that they both strive for. Anyway, I find myself surprisingly hooked on the story now that I see Sovieshu’s POV. He’s not a hero in this story by any means, but I’m somehow, against my better judgement, rooting for him. I’m rooting for him to make the right choices and repair his marriage.

It’s a bold strategy, folks. Let’s see how it pays off.

#remarried empress

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autumnsart22 · 3 years

Text

A Dream Come True: Shigaraki x Dabi x Reader part 2/2

Part 2 of the fanfic my friend wrote!

Warning: SMUT 🔥

Dabi strode off down the hall and you started to work on putting the rest of the groceries away, and cleaning some dishes in the sink. Shigaraki stood up from the table and walked into the kitchen. He looked around before looking at you, raising the empty beer bottle. You opened the drawer that held the trash and recycling and he threw it in with a loud clunk. He stood there in the middle of the kitchen for a little while before you finally asked,

“Can I help you?”

“You’re standing in front of the fridge.” he states plainly. You roll your eyes and move out of the way as he grabs another beer. He makes his way back to the table and sits down.

You both pass the time in silence as he sips on his beer and you finish cleaning the kitchen. At some point Dabi comes out of the bathroom still drying his hair with a towel wearing nothing but your brother's old pair of black joggers that look slightly too big but the strings in the front were tied tight preventing them from falling any lower. Dear god what have you done to deserve this? He switched with Shigaraki who took his turn in the bathroom while you scoured the apartment for extra blankets and pillows and threw them on the couch. When Shigaraki was done in the shower he came out in a long sleeve white shirt and your ex-boyfriend's old pair of grey sweatpants. He joined Dabi who had heated up one of the soba cups from the store.

“Okay I’m gonna go shower, you can just...yea” you spoke out loud trailing off as neither of them paid you any attention, and you left to go to the bathroom. You peeled off your work clothes, just some black jeans and a black blouse, throwing them into the same pile of clothes as Dabi and Shigaraki’s. You took your time washing your hair and and shaving your legs feeling like you deserved to pamper yourself a little given your night. You weren’t that tired given that you basically turned nocturnal since working at the bar. When you felt fresh and clean you dried off and wrapped yourself up in a towel to head to your room. Once you changed into some sweats and a tank top you made your way back out to the living room to find Dabi, now wearing a black t-shirt, and Shigaraki on the couch both nursing another beer while talking in hushed tones which again halted the moment they saw you. They both looked at you.

“What?” You said confused on why they were both staring at you.

“I have more questions,” Shigaraki stated, finally averting his gaze away from you, although it seemed reluctant.

“Okay...shoot” you said walking into the kitchen for a glass of water then plopping onto the middle section of the couch in between them. If there was one piece of furniture you splurged on it was this couch. It was a huge ‘U’ shape and could fit up to 10 people if they squished side by side. Shigaraki and Dabi were both sprawled on the two sides of the couch with you sitting in the bottom of the U.

“What sort of art or shit do people create about us?”

You almost choke on your water. That was not the sort of question you were expecting.

“Why?” you said suspiciously.

“You mentioned it earlier and I’m curious,” Shigaraki said, making large hand gestures swinging his beer bottle around. He must be getting kinda tipsy.

“Fine but if I’m answering these questions. I’m gonna need a stronger drink”

“All out here princess” Shigaraki says, taking the last gulp of his beer and waving it towards you.

“Same here.” Dabi says holding his beer bottle up, as though expecting you to take it. You stand up and grab both bottles and chuck them into the recycling, then grabbing a bottle of rum from the back of your cabinet. You make your way back to the couch and take a large swig shuddering as it goes down. Shigaraki motions for the bottle and you hand it over passing it to Dabi afterwards.

“Okay so back to my question”

“Well people write and draw all kinds of shit. Everything from just realistic art or funny art to overtly sexual” Shigaraki raises an eyebrow at this.

“What you don’t believe me?” You ask laughing slightly cause if only they knew.

“People think of crusty in that way?” Dabi laughs.

“Hey like you’re any better staples. Y/N who do people like more?” Shigaraki shoots.

“That’s gotta be Dabi. He’s pretty well known as being attractive”

“Fuck you” Shigaraki pouts and Dabi smirks to himself.

“Hey it’s not my fault, and trust me there’s still a ton of shit about you. And some of both of you” You said this last part quickly while taking another large swallow of rum. You couldn’t help yourself.

“What do you mean the both of us?” Dabi and Shigaraki looked at you hesitantly.

“Well people like to put you two together. It’s called shipping, or they just pair you together as like a duo in fanfiction”

Both of their reactions looked like they were about to gag and murder the other at just the thought of what people had had them do to eachother.

“Okay that’s the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my life” Dabi says reaching for the bottle which you hand over willingly.

“Moving on from that,” Shigaraki says, shaking his head as though to physically erase his mind. “So Y/N you’re obviously a fan. Who are your favorites?”

“I don’t know. I have a lot of people I like and don’t like. It depends.” At this point your brain was becoming warm and fuzzy but you didn’t want to let anything slip out that could be potentially embarrassing or would make the two men turn against you.

“Bullshit. Spill”

“I told you it depends”

“On what?” he said this with a sneer.

“I don’t know” You said exasperatedly. “my mood, who’s been most present in the media. It just depends on what I’m looking for.”

“What you’re looking for?” Dabi repeated confusedly.

“Next question” You state simply.

The two villains raise their eyebrows at you, curious at your evasion of the question, but your lips stay shut.

“Fine we’ll come back to that one Princess.” Shigaraki complies.“What do we look like in the show? I mean do we look different in real life?”

“Shouldn’t we be trying to figure out how to get you guys back?” you ask.

“Not much we can do about it. I’m sure the rest of the league and Kurogiri are tracking down those thugs right now, so answer my question”

“I don’t know. I guess you look kinda different, but I can still recognize you. I can show you if you want?” Shigaraki looks at you with affirmation. You get up to get your computer which you hook up to the tv screen in front of the couch. Dabi and Shigaraki turn so they can see the television, both laying down on their backs. You open your laptop (sorry I am basing it off my computer) and type in your password.

“Is that Shoto?” Dabi says disgustedly. There was in fact a fanart picture of Todoroki amongst the collage that was your background screen.

“Oh yeah. He would be in the it depends list” you say timidly quickly opening up the browser to cover up the background.

“Why the fuck did he look like some 20 year old model?”

“I told you, it’s fanart. People draw characters the way they see them or want to see them. Shoto is also really popular amongst fans if not the most I would say”

Dabi makes a noise of revulsion. You turn back to start typing in Shigaraki’s name into the browser and instantly images pop up as well as the fandom wiki and regular wiki articles. You click on images and start to scroll through.

“This is weird” Shigaraki says slightly in awe but disturbed at seeing this world's visions of his life. “Here give me that” he says gesturing towards your computer. You hand it over reluctantly.

“Seriously?!” he says grabbing the laptop.

“What?” you say hesitantly. Did you forget to close out of something?

He lifts the computer for Dabi to also see the two stickers on the sides of your trackpad.

“The anger explosion boy and pro eraserhead?” Dabi said, judgement was obvious in his tone.

“What?” you said defensively.

“Nothing I just thought you’d be a villain girl and all”

WTF, you think. What was that supposed to mean?

“Why do you think that? And who says I’m not?”

Dabi raised an eyebrow in interest but didn't answer your taunts, instead turning back to the screen. Shigaraki has been scrolling through and tapping on pictures of himself making little noises and reactions.

“This is fucking weird” He states again, the screen was stopped on a very sultry piece of fanart of Shigaraki.

“Take that down you freak. No one needs to see your crusty dusty body like that. Hand it over.” Dabi tells Shigaraki.

Shigaraki passes the computer over and Dabi searches his own name seeing all the pictures of him, although significantly more fanart pops up for him. He scrolls for a little bit but becomes weirded out or downright just bored at the photos of him. He then goes back to the wikipedia page and starts to read. While the two men continue to look at the screen and read information about their show, you stand up and head to the kitchen feeling peckish. You wander through the kitchen opening and closing all the cabinets waiting for something to catch your eye. You open the fridge and close it moving onto the freezer. Your eyes scan the contents when you spot the pint of chocolate fudge ice cream. You take it out and grab a spoon making your way back to the couch. When you get to the couch both Shigaraki and Dabi are staring at you again with intensity and amusement.

“What?” you say, plopping back into your spot, struggling to tear open the plastic and resorting to using your teeth. With both of them still staring at you as though waiting for something, you look at the screen and see that your messages are open. You take a second to read the new text from your friend.

‘Dude have you read this Shiggy Dabs fanfic? It made me 🤤🥵’

‘This ones similar to the last one you sent me, so be prepared⛓️😂’

Your heart sank as you saw the familiar logo of Ao3 underneath those texts.

“What were you saying about being a villain girl?” Dabi said, smirking.

“I––” You had no idea what to say.

“Aww is the Princess embarrassed” Shigaraki says teasingly.

You try to get up to leave but a hand roughly pulls you back down and you hide behind your hands refusing to look at the two villains. This was so embarrassing. What were you going to do? Now they knew that you liked them. That you were like the other people in this world that they had been disgusted by all night. They weren’t likely to just let this go. If only you could get to your room and lock the door maybe they would just leave.

“Come on don’t be shy. Are we on your depends list?”

They take your silence and continued evasion as an affirmation.

“Hmm…” You hear Dabi hum lowly. “What exactly are we dependent on? What are you looking for when you search for us?” Dabi asks, already knowing the answer.

“Come on tell us” Shigaraki coos. You shake your head. You could feel both of the boys drawing closer to you like school bullies cornering you in the bathroom, but you didn’t dare look up at them, too embarrassed. That’s when you heard typing. Your head whips up to see Dabi replying to your friend.

‘What exactly do you mean by similar?’

By the time you read what he wrote they were already responding.

‘You know 😂 the usual non-con threesome with you and dabs and shigs. Kidnapping, ropes, degradation, similar to all the other fanfics 😋 tho in this one you cum four times and each a dif way😳 ’

If your stomach dropped even more. It would have touched the ground.

“So not only are you a villain’s girl but you’re a kinky little slut too?” Dabi says chuckling. He was practically next to you staring at your frozen figure as you looked at the screen.

“I should have known when you walked out here with these cute little things poking out” He reached over and pinched your nipple tugging on the metal barbell through it. You squealed instinctually pulling away but he caught the top of your tank top effectively pulling it down revealing your breasts, each decorated with a metal piercing.

You motion to cover them, but your hands are once again forced behind your back, however this time Shigaraki had the pleasure of restraining you.

“Let go of me!” you yelped at the humiliating assault.

“I thought you liked this?” Dabi said in mock sympathy. “Just how many times have you gotten off to us?”

You were squirming trying to remove yourself from Shigaraki’s grip.

“Answer the question” Dabi said, pinching your nipple again. You yelped in pain but you could feel the slick starting to build between your legs.

“A lot okay. Now let go!”

Dabi and Shigaraki complied surprisingly. You regained your breath and pulled your tank top back up. The next few minutes passed in silence as Shigaraki took another swig of rum and Dabi continued to scroll through the different My Hero wikipedia pages. You got up still in shock taking your forgotten ice cream back to the freezer. You had lost your appetite.

What were you supposed to do now? You were still slightly scared of them after what just happened but you couldn’t ignore the arousal that had been sparked deep within you. You had dreamt of this many times. This wasn’t much different than the different fanfiction you had read, and honestly this would be on the tamer end, but that was just fiction. But were you really going to pass up this chance? How could you? Yet why’d they stop? You were surprised and honestly kinda disappointed they had now that you were standing in the kitchen. And with that you had made up your mind. You are not going to pass up this chance you could never forgive yourself.

You made your way back over to the couch but didn’t sit down. You stood in front of them silent staring at your feet, trying to figure out what you wanted to say.

“What?” Dabi said as though nothing had happened.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked timidly.

“Hmm? Because you said so.” Dabi said as though this was an obvious answer to a stupid question.

You looked at him surprised.

“Don’t believe me?” He said with a small chuckle.

When you didn’t seem to get any less anxious he continued with a sigh.

“Look Princess, I may be a bastard and sadistic villain but I don’t go wishing pain on everyone, especially ones with cute tits. Of course if they’re into that then I’m down” He said this so casually it seemed almost wrong, all while he continued to watch your computer screen. You assumed it was in part due to the alcohol, but still.

“you’re blocking the screen,” Shigaraki said annoyed.

“Was that all princess?” Dabi said mockingly

“Well….”

“What?” Shigaraki spat.

“Hurry up,” Dabi said flatly.

“What if I wanted to continue?” You said finally looking up at them. They both looked at you intently, then gave each other a look and were smiling when their eyes fell back to you.

“Our little Princess wants to live out her dirty villainous fantasies...huh?”

You nod. Wait did they just say our?

“Come on tell us what you’ve dreamt about?” Dabi says beckoning you over to him with one finger.

Once you’re in front of him, he pulls you down onto his lap so you're facing him. You look at him hesitantly biting your lip.

“You’re the expert of these little situations, Princess” he says holding his hands up for you to guide them. You take his hands slowly, unsure of your actions and guide them back to your breasts. He gives you a smirk and gives you a good squeeze, causing a small moan to escape your throat. You instinctually grind down into his lap feeling his member start to harden beneath you. You lean your head back as Dabi pulls your tank top over your head. You look over at Shigaraki who’s staring at you starting to palm himself through the sweats.

“Him too princess?” Dabi asks you, giving your nipples a pinch causing you to moan all the while still staring at Shigaraki “Mmmhmmm”

This was enough for Shigaraki to slide down the couch to where the two of you were.

“Tell him where you want him, otherwise he won’t know what to do, I can’t imagine he’s done this before” Dabi encourages.

“Oh shut up” Shigaraki hisses, but he focuses back on you when you grab his hand and bring it to your neck. He insticutally keeps one finger raised, but you push that finger down with the rest deep into the side of your neck limiting the oxygen flowing to your brain, enough to give you that high. Flooded with pleasure you grind down again into Dabi feeling your underwear starting to become uncomfortably wet.

Looking into Shigaraki’s crimson eyes, you could feel them boring into you just as hungry as you felt. He leans in close, lips barely ghosting over your own. You could feel both of your breaths mixing in the millimeters between you two when Dabi gives a harsh tug to both your nipples causing you to gasp. Shigaraki seized this opportunity to violently smash your lips together. Your hand reaches into his hair, gripping for support as the initial ferver and clash of teeth dies down into long passionate tangling of tongues as you explore each other's mouth. His rough lips scratching into your’s was a sensation you’ve imagined many times but none of it lived up to reality. He nipped lightly on your bottom lip making you lean into him more.

Dabi’s hands continued their exploration of your torso, moving down your sides to your hips and around to your ass. He squeezed and kneaded them with his strong fingers. Shigaraki squeezed your neck again sending another rush of euphoria to your head making you moan into his mouth before he pulled away to attack your neck and take over teasing your breasts. You look back at Dabi with hunger in your eyes.

“What now princess? What do you want?” He says with a devilish grin.

You grind down into his cock again which is now hard as ever.

“Uh-uh. Use your words.” he says giving your ass a squeeze.

Shigaraki rolls your nipples in between his harsh fingers sending waves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, causing you to roll your head again and let out a short moan. When you look back at Dabi, you speak in a low breathy tone, almost a whisper.

“Abuse me”

With those few words, Dabi smirks and slips his hands underneath the waistband of your sweats. “As you wish”

Shigaraki continues his attack to your neck sucking and biting, leaving red and darkened patches curving down your shoulder and back. Dabi continued his groping, and you could feel the rough staples scratching at your flesh and his nails digging in harsher than before. His hands slide down the curve of your ass tugging your soiled underwear to the side.

“Hmmm you’re so wet.” Dabi said, ghosting his fingers over your dripping entrance.

“You little whore. Getting so wet for a couple of villains” You shiver at the sensitive touch and degrading words. Gripping to Shigaraki’s shirt and grinding down trying to gain friction, you notice Shigaraki palming himself again. You replace his hand with your own, wrapping your fingers around his clothed cock, squeezing lightly. Shigaraki groaned deeply in your ear, sending vibrations straight to your core while Dabi’s fingers dip slightly into your needy hole but only enough to tease more juices and whimpers out of you. You try to push down onto them only for him to retreat.

“Please...stop teasing” you whine.

“So needy Princess huh? You want my fingers in that little cunt of yours?”

“Yes. Dabi. Please” you didn't care at this point how pathetic you sounded. The pressure in your core was building and you needed to be pushed over the edge.

“Go on...make yourself cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it,” Dabi said sneering at how desperate you looked. He finally allowed two fingers to sink into you as you lowered your hips again. You were always amazed at how much deeper fingers other than your own could reach, and Dabi’s in particular could reach places you could never dream of finding on your own.

The effect was immediate. You started to roll your hips, bouncing slightly on Dabi’s fingers. You’re grip on Shigarak’s member stalls as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. Shigaraki, displeased by this fact, guides you inside his sweats, pumping himself with your hand. You could feel the precum leaking from his slit as your fingers smear it up and down his shaft. Shigaraki continued his abuse of your flesh, moving down biting and sucking till his teeth latched onto your sensitive nipple. You whine as Dabi’s other hand had found your clit. He twirled it between his fingers letting his nail drag over it. This added stimulation drove you closer sending shivers up your spine.

“Mm close” you whimper as your movements on Dabi’s fingers become sloppy.

“Come on princess. Make yourself cum, make a pretty little mess all over my fingers”

Dabi presses into your clit and you grind down hard again. Dabi wickedly curls his fingers pressing into that soft spot inside you releasing the knot of pressure that had been building in your core.Your legs shake and you clamp down hard onto his fingers which are still moving in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm.

You weakly fall forward onto Dabi’s chest as Shigaraki releases your hand from his dick. You can feel Dabi’s fingers pull out of you and when you open your eyes you see him playing with your sticky release coating his fingers. You watch as Dabi brings his fingers to his mouth, smearing some on his lip and licking it before taking them into his mouth, sucking and cleaning yourself off of him.

“Princess you’re delicious” He says smiling down at you making you blush at the crude compliment.

“My turn to taste'' Shigaraki said, pulling you off Dabi’s lap. He positioned you on your back, your head resting on Dabi’s thigh. As Shigaraki did away with your sweats and underwear, you pulled Dabi’s mismatched lips to yours. The feeling was heavenly. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth. You tugged needily at Dabi’s shirt and he pulled it off only breaking the kiss for a brief moment.

You savored the wet and slow pace opposite to Shigaraki’s fast and rough, both pleasure in their own ways. You’re breath hitched and you moaned deeply when you felt Shigaraki’s wet tongue lick the length of your core, swiping up the sticky left overs from your previous release.

You look down at Shigaraki. He had positioned himself between your thighs, knees slumped over his shoulders. He was staring up at you licking his lips before attaching himself to your clit sucking at it harshly. You could feel that ball of pressure tighten again in your stomach and you let your head fall back to Dabi’s thigh, eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of the hot wet mouth working at your sex. You’re hand threaded its way into Shigaraki’s silky blue hair, tugging lightly, only making him suck harder.

You felt Dabi’s hand on your cheek and you opened your eyes looking up into his sapphire eyes before he turned your head. You were met with Dabi’s unclothed cock. Your eyes followed the Jacobs ladder of staples up his shaft to the head where you could see a bead of precum sitting at the slit. You smile thinking how in the hell fanfic got this detail right.

“What’re you smiling at? Impressed?”

“Hmm...No piercing, huh? Guess they got that part wrong”

“You people are sick” he says chuckling before directing his dick into your mouth.

You take it gladly bobbing your head down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks before sliding back up, letting your tongue catch on each of the staples. Dabi let out a low groan, putting his hand in your hair to keep it away from your face.

You continue to work your mouth on Dabi’s cock while Shigaraki continues to swipe his tongue through your sensitive folds. You moan around Dabi’s length when Shigaraki slips a finger inside, causing you to buck your hips, pushing his tongue deeper into you.

The vibrations from your tight throat had Dabi pushing your head down taking his entire length. You gagged around his cock, choking for air but that only drove you further into your pleasure. Shigaraki added another finger and started pistoning into you violently while sucking at your clit once again. You moaned, tugging at Shigaraki’s hair, signaling you were close. You could tell Dabi was close too as he took control and started face fucking you, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust.

Shigaraki added a third finger stretching you wider and driving you over the edge for the second time as you gasped around Dabi’s cock, legs squeezing around Shigaraki. Your orgasm drove Dabi to the edge as he thrust into you again and kept your head down as your throat tightened around his length. Thick ropes of cum shot from the tip and slid down the back of your throat. You took it all swallowing until you couldn’t breathe anymore pushing Dabi away. You’re head lolled on Dabi’s lap as you recovered from your high.

Dabi was leaning back breathing deeply with his eyes closed. Your brain was still foggy but it wasn’t long until you felt something back against your sex. Looking down you see Shigaraki lining himself up with your entrance, coating his cock in your juices. Your eyes widen at seeing his length out in the open. It was not as decorated as Dabi’s but it held the same presence, being about an inch longer although not as thick as Dabi’s. Shigaraki looks up at you when he lines himself up, the tip merely resting against you, and sees your nervous expression.

“Huh didn’t think I was getting you this wet for nothing. I ain’t wasting a drop of this pussy”

He stared into your eyes as he steadily pushed into you. The stretch was almost unbearable. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to make it through the burning stretch.

“Shit you’re tight. Feels like my dick is in a vice... fuuuuuck… relax” Shigaraki hissed.

You could barely register his voice let alone his request. You could barely breath focusing only on the pain as Shigaraki continued to push against your walls.

“Hey patchwork stop sleeping and get her to breathe”

Dabi shifts underneath you and you feel his hands run down your sides outlining your torso. Even though he didn’t have his quirk, his hands were hot and soothing as they rubbed against your skin.

“Come on Princess.” You open your eyes slightly to see Dabi looking down at you patronizingly.

“You’ve been doing so well,” He said brushing your jaw with the back of his hand. “And you wanna feel good right?”

You nod meekly.

Dabi leans down so his lips are hovering centimeters over yours. The smell of alcohol on his breath tantalizing and his minty scent making your head spin.

“Breathe Princess. Just focus on me” He whispers before putting his lips on yours. You melt into the kiss doing exactly what Dabi says, exhaling through your nose and focusing on the way his cold staples scratch against your skin while his soft tongue dances with your own.

When you break the kiss for air it’s only because Shigaraki has managed to bury himself to the hilt. You can feel him pressing against your cervix deep inside you. You look at him again and find him head tilted back, eyes closed, taking in the feeling of you pulsing around him. Even though you know it’s not out of consideration but pure self indulgence, you're glad that he hasn’t started moving yet as you adjust to his length. Eventually it seems the lust of needing to rearrange your insides trumped being his own personal cockwarmer. His eyes fell on you again as you pulled out till only the tip was inside before bottoming out once again. Each time slowly pulling out only to thrust back in at full force.

You were still adjusting to his length, but soon the burning sensation of being stretched and pounded turned into addicting pleasure. You resumed your kiss with Dabi whose hands had found their way to your breast as Shigaraki increased his pace. Soon you were being knocked senseless by Shigaraki’s ruthless pace. He always has been fast on screen, so why did you think he’d be any different here. Moans and gasps escaped your mouth as the tip of Shigaraki’s cock hit your cervix. Once again the pressure began to build in your core. You began to whimper as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuckkk I’m close. It’s like you're pulling me deeper. So fucking good” Shigaraki panted out falling to his hands on either side of your hips for support. You whimper again and claw at the couch cushions as you could feel yourself just on the brink when Dabi’s hand slides down your stomach and begins rubbing at your clit. You cry out and clamp down hard on Shigaraki legs shaking and eyes rolling back as Dabi’s ministrations send you through your third orgasm of the night.

You feel Shigaraki thrust once more hard and then hot thick jets of white paint your walls. You shudder at the feeling of being pumped full, your sex still milking him of everylast drop. Shigaraki finally pulls out of you and lays back on the couch catching his breath savoring the last waves of his high falling down.

You too were recuperating and limp, unable to move. Your mind was hazy from the alcohol and the relentless stimulation. You were so tired that you didn’t even care about cleaning up but rather drifting off to sleep right there. However you were jostled from these thoughts as Dabi had rolled you off his lap and onto your stomach. You could hardly keep up with his movements as he stood and walked around you. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of hands lifting your hips that you looked back to see Dabi fisting is dick that looked painfully hard. You couldn’t fathom another round right now but you were still so weak from your last high that you didn’t have time to prepare before Dabi thrusted into your already abused hole.

He sighed once he was buried inside you. He leaned down so his chest was hovering above your back the heat making your skin prickle. He leaned down till his breath could be felt on the back of your neck.

“Mhmm… ’m so close already and you’re gonna let me pump you full, aren’t you princess”

You couldn’t respond because your overly sensitive body was already reacting to Dabi's hard cock pressing into you, stretching you wider around his girth. Even though your mind was fading in and out, you involuntarily pressed your hips back to make him go deeper, seeking out the friction your body needed to overdose on.

Dabi was the exact opposite of Shigaraki. He took his time, thrusting in and out, making sure you felt every staple and ridge of his cock dragging against your walls savoring the way they pulled him in. Overstimulation caused tears to form in the corners of your eyes only soft whimpers escaping your mouth. Dabi continued slow and deliberate, letting out low breathy grunts with every thrust. On the edge once more, never fully recovering from before, you were longing to be undone one last time.

“Please Dabi” you mewl.

Dabi snickered in your ear before snaking his hand under you and pressing his fingers to your clit which was all the stimulation you needed to moan out and squeeze around Dabi who came at the feeling of your gummy walls constricting around his pulsing length. You felt his seed fill you up and mix with Shigaraki’s inside you. Dabi dropped down next to you, rolling you onto your side so you were effectively spooning with his cock still inside you. You could hear movement apart from you and Dabi, and in opening your eyes you saw Shigaraki standing pulling up the sweats that were bunched at his thighs. He noticed you staring at him.

“Tch. I don’t cuddle Princess and I gotta piss” His tone was crude but laced with content from having a good fuck. “Don’t let a single drop out Dabi” Shigaraki stated before walking down the hall.

Dabi didn’t respond but seemed to have no intent on moving as you felt his member begin to soften inside you. You couldn’t be more concerned about the implications behind Shigaraki’s comment or the fact that you still had a dick inside you. You were just tired and groggy from the night's events and thankful that you were finally able to be comfortable and close your eyes. You didn’t think Dabi was really a cuddle after sex with a stranger kinda guy but you weren’t complaining. He was warm and made you feel safe despite knowing he would most likely kill you in any other context. You let your eyes close again, head falling onto Dabi’s arm, giving into the waves of exhaustion coming over you.

When Shigaraki came back from the bathroom he found you and Dabi still in the exact same position he left you in. Dabi opened his eyes when he heard Shigaraki come back into the room.

“Is she out?” Shigaraki asked.

“Think so,” Dabi said, finally pulling out of you and tugging the joggers back up to his hips. He slides out from behind you, but you don’t even realize, body only curling inwards at the loss of heat. Dabi stands and looks down at you with Shigaraki. You look so worn out and peaceful. Your body exposed for them, hickeys and bruises forming where Shigaraki ravaged your neck. Your ass is still red from the pounding, and welts forming where Dabi’s strong fingers dug into you. However the best part was probably the shine of slick spread on the inside of your thighs as a stream white cum dribbled from your used hole.

Shigaraki notices this and sits down by your feet.

“What’re you doing?”

“I told you I don’t want any of it out. Got a problem with that?”

“Nope.” Dabi said rolling his eyes and walking away. “I’ve learned to not try and figure out your sick mind”

Shigaraki looked back down at you.

“Good. I have plans for her.” Dabi rolled his eyes again and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Shigaraki ran a hand up your thigh and you flexed at his touch, still unconscious. Shigaraki ran his fingers down the length of your core smearing the juices there before scooping up the stream of cum still leaking out of you and pushing it back inside you. His two fingers easily slipped into your stretched whole, but that didn’t stop a small whine from slipping from your throat. Shigaraki moved his fingers lazily in and out of you pushing the cum deeper. His eyes shot to your face when your hips bucked instinctively against him, your face was scrunched and staggered breaths and sniffs escaping your slightly parted lips, but you were still out, lost in whatever continued fantasy your fatigued brain was conjuring.

Shigaraki pushed into you a few more times selfishly pressing into the soft spot inside you that had you clamp down onto his fingers one last time. You gasped and curled further into a ball. When Shigaraki pulled his fingers out you hummed, face still scrunched, but he got up and left to the kitchen to wash off his hands.

When Dabi came back he met Shigaraki in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water and leaning against the counter.

“What do we do now?” Dabi asked casually.

“Well I don’t know ‘bout you but I’m fucking exhausted”

“Do you really think the rest of the league will be able to figure this out?”

“Kurogiri is smart enough, even if the rest of the league is useless with this sort of thing. However I am curious what this sick twisted universe has to offer us”

“Whatever you say” Dabi says walking back to the couch, and lifting you bridal style. You lean into his warmth as he carries you to your bedroom plopping you down on your bed and closing the door.

When you open your eyes the next morning, you feel your head throbbing against your skull. The bright light streaming in through your window was enough to make you want to stab the sun till it was nothing more than an ember. You closed your eyes again trying to remember the dream you were having but as you searched your brain, pieces of your dream seemed to turn into memories. You shot your eyes open and sat up. It was just a dream right? Realizing you were naked and that your skin felt sticky and dirty was enough to make your head pound harder than before. Wasn’t the fact you were hungover proof enough that last night events had taken place? No, there was still a chance you had just gotten drunk and imagined it all, but you had to be sure. You sprang out of bed and pulled on some loose shorts and a shirt, impatiently throwing open the door and speeding down the hall to where the proof you needed would be.

The living room was lit by the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains. The golden rays illuminated messy blankets and pillows strewn across the couch, an empty rum bottle, a pair of your sweats and tank top buried on the floor, but no one was there. You felt nauseous trying to piece everything together along with the aftermath of the alcohol. You rush to the sink in the kitchen and puke up the contents of your stomach. You grip the counter and close your eyes until you felt more confident in your body's ability to keep everything inside. You slowly open your eyes and look around, mind going back to what happened last night. However you get sidetracked by a bright blue sticky note sticking up from your countertop. Walking over to it you read.

“Kurogiri is a smart man. We’ll be back Princess. PS I want the blood out of my pants.”

#shigaraki #shiggy #tomura #Dabi #shigaraki x dabi #dabi x shigaraki #dabi x reader #shigaraki x dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #smut #anime #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #spicy

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jesusology · 3 years

Text

having a hard time with Kazui, but I decided to go through his MV step-by-step and see where my thoughts lead me !! let’s gooooo

I think the green apple is an interesting choice. Normally, if you’re going for a “temptation” or “forbidden fruit” type of thing it’s going to be a red apple… because red represents passion, after all. But the green makes me think there’s some other reason for this.

Okay, so the apple is placed on a stage on a small table and there’s a spotlight over top of it. I feel like the apple is maybe meant to represent “temptation” but not in a “forbidden romance/adultery” type of way.

It could be symbolic of temptation in other aspects of life. Maybe he was wanting to leave his “ordinary, common” life and pursue things that are deemed unrealistic - especially for someone of his age, even though he’s really not that old.

Which, again, he brings up his age a lot. I guess you might feel self-conscious when surrounded by people younger than you but even so… he seems really hung up on his age and being an “old man”. He probably feels like it’s too late for someone like him to make a “big” change in his life and it’s easiest to just keep going as normal, pro status quo.

The color green can also mean something like “greed, envy, and life”. Wouldn’t even be surprised if all three of those potentials were meaningful in relation to Kazui.

I mention this in like every single one of my theories but again not everything here is literal. So what we’re seeing here, Kazui at the bar drinking with a woman other than his wife… it could mean something else entirely and not the obvious assumption of an affair.

A thought I just formed, but could that other image of Kazui at the bar with a different woman just be his imagination at work? He’s still sitting with his wife at home but he’s imagining that he’s out at some classy bar with a woman other than his wife. Maybe he wants something more glamorous, something other than this “plain” situation at home? Or maybe that woman is meant to represent something else entirely. A “dream”, a different life entirely.

Not sure if this is indicative of anything or even means anything, but there’s a pillow sort of wedged between them…

Maybe he never really wanted to be married but he felt like he had to because he really DOES love his wife and it’s just the natural course of things to get married. He had other things he wanted to do, but they ultimately never came to fruition because of the normal societal expectations. He’s hiding aspects of himself just to have that illusion of normality.

Just now noticed what looks like another figure in the distance sitting with him? Is that meant to be his wife? Is that also why he looks kind of surprised? The apple is between them, it’s sort of a divider.

His eye color…. Is so pretty….

He’s “playing a part” and so he’s seen in various costumes throughout the MV. Depending on the situation, he swaps his mask in order to appropriately fit in. It could be seen as living a lie, or it could be seen as a simple survival instinct. He sees no other way to live, because he doesn’t want to sadden/disappoint the people around him.

I’m not sure what his dreams could be or what he REALLY wants out of life, but either way, it clearly creates a rift.

Hmmm this line gives me pause. It makes it sound like part of the problem is his wife, as if she were maybe cheating or wanting to leave him? Or it could be that she disapproves of his “dreams”. Could also be that she’s suffering emotionally in this marriage and he doesn’t appear to take notice and this causes them to drift further from each other.

I wonder if the chair is meant to represent his wife in some way. I don’t really have any evidence for this, it’s just more of a feeling. What kind of uniform is that he’s wearing, anyhow? I feel like it’s possibly important...

A lot of Kazui’s theme has to do with “lies” and “hiding”. Does he feel like he’s living a lie in his common life? Is this because he wants to be something so much more, but he can’t because - to him - it’s almost as if his wife is the one holding him back? Again, I feel he truly does love her. But I feel as though their love has fizzled from something romantic (if there ever was romance) into something milder.

I wonder if he was starting to view her as more of a burden than a partner. He loves her, so he isn’t sure what to do. Leaving isn’t an option. So lying is all that’s left. He’s struggling with which he should listen to - his brain, or his heart.

He wears his wedding ring throughout the entirety of the MV which makes me think it probably isn’t an affair… I mean, if you’re going out to bars in the hopes of meeting someone new, you probably wouldn’t want to leave your wedding ring on.

A lot of distance here, clearly depicting how their marriage is just… silently falling apart.

I don’t think he’s referring to loving a person here. I feel like it’s more of a concept that he’s talking about, a dream. The dream here is being personified as a human woman, his mind is creating a scenario where his dream is essentially like “cheating” on his wife. This really feels like I’m pulling stuff out of my ass like I’m trying to make him seem less “bad” than he is, but I just. Really feel like we wouldn’t be getting this so straight-forwardly if it were an actual affair.

Also he’s still wearing his wedding ring here which again would make no sense to me if you were going to a bar trying to find other people.

There still seems to be some level of distance here. He doesn’t directly touch the woman’s shoulders and he doesn’t especially move in closer toward her. Again, his “dream” feels untouchable and like something he HAS to keep inside because if he does “touch” his dream then his life with his wife - no matter if he’s happy or not - will be shattered.

I feel like he’s talking about memories with his wife here. He might be recalling happier times and he wishes he could just banish those from his mind because it would make dealing with everything so much easier.

Here the both of them are, but the spotlight remains on the apple on the stage. His mind is elsewhere. He’s with his wife, a woman he loves, but he isn’t fully committing to her and her own wants and needs. He’s instead thinking of a dream, something he isn’t being honest about.

Hindsight is 20/20 and I feel like he really does regret whatever he did. The grass is always greener on the other side, I guess…

But it makes me wonder if he ended up telling her whatever his deal is or if someone ELSE did? He’s saying that “not one word will reach you” but it must have somehow.

I like how he grabs her hand, the one that has the ring on it… nothing to add to it, I just… it makes me feel things

Spotlight is back on him, he looks to be in their apartment. He isn’t in a costume, he isn’t wearing a mask. I like the focus on the balcony in the background, it’s ominous.

No mask. And his voice seems more pained, his expressions look more hurt. Taking off the mask is stopping his lies, and it seems as though that may not have been the best decision on his part.

Again, I feel like the chair is meant to represent his wife. She was a comfort to him, regardless of the feelings they had for each other. He might not have felt the same way in their marriage, not any longer, but he did love her and the comfort she brought him. Does he want that to disappear? Definitely not. But can he abandon all other thoughts and what he wants in life? Unfortunately not.

I HAVE THINGS I WANT TO SAY ABOUT THIS IMAGE IN PARTICULAR BUT MY BRAIN CANNOT ARTICULATE IT

I think I saw that green can also be representative of cowardice. And I feel like that’s also a big theme here, that he felt too cowardly to be honest with his wife and ultimately it led to the greatest loss of all. This also seems to be a big “miscommunication kills” type of scenario. Communication could have also been the killer here - there’s just not enough info here to make a firm judgment.

Either she jumped from the balcony or he accidentally pushed her. I feel like it’s either one of these. I’m sorta leaning more toward the “he accidentally shoved her in a fit of passion or some sort of argument”... because it just feels like he might’ve had a literal hand in it

Curse this image being so blurry. He’s holding out his hand and his hand is outlined in red, so it’s very important… could he be trying to lunge forward and catch her or is he about to like... push her. HMMM this image does make it look more like he’s trying to grab onto her in hopes of saving her.

Broken shards of glass that I think are representative of their marriage and her fall from the balcony. What’s shattered can’t so easily be put back together - and in some cases, it can’t be put back at all. Something he’s learned in a very hard way and something he might have known all along.

He took a bite from the apple, it’s gone. He made his choice. But what’s left is broken in pieces.

And he goes back to putting on a mask… because I think it’s too hard to face otherwise. Now then! Onto some other things that might shed a little more light because I’m honestly not sure about this. Kazui’s is so… subtle and vague. It seems so obvious on the surface that it makes me think it really ISN’T that tangible from first glance.

Let’s take a look at some of his other things.

He really does seem pretty hung-up on his age lol… I guess I can’t blame him because I do the same thing and I’m only in my twenties.

This is a really interesting tid-bit from him. Why would they find him embarrassing? Because of what happened in his life, because he opened up about something and let down his mask for a bit? I really want to know more about this because it seems so telling.

Another theory I’ve seen go around that I support quite a bit could also be that instead of a “dream” he was hiding he was instead trying to deny his own sexual orientation. If Kazui were gay, that could explain a lot of things in this. Putting on a mask to hide who he really is, staying in a marriage with a person he loves but not in a romantic nor sexual way… his family “being embarrassed” by him… I could honestly see this being the case. He’s playing a part in life and it’s really not HIM because he doesn’t feel he can be himself.

What’s clear is just how much Kazui doesn’t even seem to know what it is that he REALLY wants. He doesn’t seem satisfied no matter the option, it’s just a lose-lose situation all around for him. If he chooses to go with being himself/his dream then he loses his wife. If he stays with his wife, it doesn’t stop his thoughts from wandering elsewhere. He won’t be satisfied.

On another note, Kazui continues to hide behind a mask even with MILGRAM. He tries to pass himself off as someone who is mild-mannered and relaxed but at the same time he’s a bit contradictory because he also calls himself anxious. He says things to others that don’t really reflect his actual thoughts - such as when Yuno asked him about his type of woman and he says something that’s just… not really well thought-out because it seems like he’s pretty private. He wants to be private because opening up with his true feelings hasn’t worked out well for him.

Unrelated but I got this screencap and I’m like… i need a kiss from this man ASAP. i need it like i need air to breathe

Okay that’s it for now!! So interested to see what direction his story takes in the next MV for him. I really want to learn so much more about Kazui, his entire MV is just so subtle. Let me know your thoughts!! Would really love to hear what you think of Kazui and his cryptic demeanor. Thank you for reading! please tumblr don’t delete like half my post thank u <3

like. on one hand i could very well see cheating being the entire case here. it would make sense what-with choosing to “forgive” or “not forgive”. but i also like to have a bit of fun and see what other possibilities might be. who knows! we shall find out in time

#milgram #milgram theories #kazui mukuhara #over here writin a novel about kazui #if you read all of this you are a trooper thank you for hanging in there #i salute you

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nerdythebard · 3 years

Text

#12: The Doctor [Doctor Who]

Brother, I disown you...

I don't know what my friend/chosen brother was thinking when he made this request... Actually, no, I know exactly what he was thinking! Well, no time to dawdle, let's do this Time Warp. Again.

Next Time: Before we return to the gods, I want to make a character very close to my heart. He is also a Doctor... only, word of warning, he's a little... Strange.

Well then... sigh, let's see the goals we need to meet to make the most brilliant alien in television playable in D&D:

Heroes Never Die: The signature ability of a Time Lord (and the most problematic), a way to cheat death and return to life. Yes, somehow we need to make a virtually immortal character in Dungeons & Dragons...

Bunny-Ears Lawyer: Even in his relatively serious regenerations, the Doctor is prone to flashes of randomness, acts of nonsense, mixing puns and physical comedy to often hide the incredibly fast and advanced brain processes.

Go-Go Gadget Galore: Do I even need to say anything? Besides his trusty TARDIS (which will not be included here, we're making the Doctor, not his equipment!), the Doctor also brandishes sonic devices of multiple varieties, psychic paper, the thing that goes DING, etc.

---

As you can imagine, finding the right race replacement for Time Lords wasn't easy. I'm definitely not using The-Movie-That-Does-Not-Exist solution, and making the Doctor... half-human, urgh. All we need to do is find a humanoid, almost-fossil race that can come back from death a limited amount of times.

The Doctor is a Human Revenant, a playtest race from Unearthed Arcana: Gothic Heroes. In-game, Revenant is an undead that came back to life to pursue a certain goal, whether it's vengeance, retribution, or to make amends. Putting some flavour into it, and turning it into a long-living, mysterious being who perhaps came from the Astral Plane to search for a way to save his home planet... why not? Regular Revenants get only a +1 to Constitution, but if we're using pre-existing race (such as Human), there's another set of rules. So, we get a +1 Constitution and +1 Intelligence, and we don't get to pick a skill or a feat. Not yet.

What's most important here is the Revenant's Relentless Nature feature. We are assigned a goal, a very specific one, that we must complete in order to achieve peace. Work with your DM on that one (the saving-your-home-world one from before sounds like a good start). Until we complete the goal:

If we are below Hit Points Maximum, at the start of our turn we regain 1 Hit Point;

We know the distance and direction to any creature involved in our goal (perhaps a fellow, once-friend Time Lord?);

When we die, we come back to life within 24 hours with 1 Hit Point. If our body is destroyed, we come back in a spot within 1 mile of our place of death (unfortunately, our equipment is destroyed);

BOOM! JUST FLAVOUR EACH DEATH AS A CHANGE OF FACE AND PERSONALITY, AND WE HAVE THE REGENERATION SYSTEM! HAH! YOU SEE THAT, BROTHER!?

Ekhm... back to work, then.

The Doctor is pretty far from home, so giving him the Far Traveller background seems like the right approach. We gain proficiencies in Insight and Perception skills, proficiencies with one musical instrument (perhaps a recorder?)/gaming set, we learn one language of our choice, and we get the All Eyes on You feature; our mannerisms and quirks definitely draw attention towards us and our group, but we can take advantage of that in order to fish for some information, secure an audience with the local nobleman, or... I dunno, snog Madame de Pompadour?

ABILITY SCORES

No surprise there, we start with Intelligence. We have a literal Big Galaxy Brain™ and we use it often, and only sometimes to show off. Follow that up with Dexterity, we're nimble and we're doing a lot of running, especially when being chased (plus, we've invented the Drunken Giraffe dance). Constitution is next, the Gallifreyan biology is significantly superior to that of regular Terrans.

Next up, Charisma. It usually works, sometimes it doesn't, but even then we're kinda adorkable. Wisdom is a little low, I think we all shall agree to that, the Doctor is a creature of whim. He gets lost in thought, has a hard time remembering to explain his logic to others. Finally, we're dumping Strength. Now, we're definitely physically stronger than humans, I just don't remember any particular feats of super-strength in the show.

Heck, you want even more Time Lord shenanigans? Ask your DM to implement the "every death/regeneration makes all ability scores randomly switch places" rule.

CLASS

Level 1 - Artificer: Once again, nobody is surprised we begin with the Smart & Techy One™ for the Doctor. Artificers were brought to 5e via Tasha's Cauldron of Everything. These magical tinkers have d8 Hit Dice, [8 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and optionally firearms (although that's definitely not the Doctor's style). We additionally get proficiency with thieves' tools, tinker's tools, and one set of artisan's tools we choose. We can't get the sonic screwdriver (although if you want one, hint to your DM about the existence of the All-Purpose Tool), we have all these tools to replace it with. Our saving throws are Constitution and Intelligence, and we get to pick two class skills: let's get History and Investigation.

Artificers start with Magical Tinkering, an ability to bestow harmless magical properties onto inanimate objects. We choose a Tiny object with no magic in it, and grant it one of the following properties indefinitely:

It sheds bright light for 5 feet and dim light for an additional 5;

Whenever tapped, the object plays a recorded message no longer than six seconds;

The object continuously emits a smell or a sound of our choice;

A static image (picture, lines of text, shapes, etc.) appear on the object's surface.

Artificers are also casters, so at the first level, we get Spellcasting. Our casting ability is, of course, Intelligence and the number of spells we can prepare is equal to [our Intelligence modifier + half of our Artificer level rounded down]. We also know how to cast rituals.

We start with two cantrips:

Magic Stone lets us imbue three pebbles with magic (or perhaps, in this case, kinetic energy?) for 1 minute. We can then use the pebbles ourselves, or give them to somebody else. On a successful hit, the target suffers [1d6 + our Intelligence modifier] bludgeoning damage and the spell ends on that particular pebble.

Prestidigitation is a cantrip of plenty varieties, which very well could be disguised as the Doctor's tinkering with his sonic screwdriver. It can be used to warm or chill food, clean or soil objects, or perhaps lighting and snuffing our small flames.

We start with two 1st-level spell slots, and we get three 1st-level spells:

Alarm sets up a secured perimeter, no larger than a 20-feet cube, for 8 hours. Whenever a create not-designated as safe while setting the spell, crosses its boundary, we get a signal informing us about the intrusion, which also wakes us up if we're sleeping. The signal can be set to inform only us, or everybody around.

Detect Magic informs us of any magical activity within 30 feet of us for 10 minutes (concentration). We sense magic lingering on objects, people, as well as locations, and we can determine the type of magic present (but not a particular spell, for example, we sense that a spell on the object is enchantment-type, but not that it's Power Word: Kill).

Identify is... pretty much the one function of the sonic screwdriver we've all seen. It lets us learn about an object we choose, including its magical properties (if any) and if it's affected by any spells. And it works on wood!

With a spell list like that, we can safely say

Level 2 - Artificer: We continue with the Tech Savvy Class, and we learn the Artificer's signature skill, Infuse Item. It lets us bestow magical properties onto mundane items. Similarly to Warlock's Invocations, Artificers have Infusions they can select and put into items. Starting from this level, we can infuse two items at once, and we get to pick four Infusions from the list. For the Doctor, let's pick:

Replicate Magic Item: Bag of Holding is probably the most useful infusion in the early game. The infusion does exactly what it says, and a Bag of Holding is always a good item to own (just watch out for the Bag Man!)

Enhanced Defence infusion puts some extra protection (+1 to AC) onto an armour or a shield.

Mind Sharpener is a helping hand for any spellcaster. The infusion put onto an armour, or woven into a robe, sends a jolt to re-focus the mind. When the wearer fails a Constitution saving throw to keep their concentration, one charge (out of four) of the infusion expends, to make them succeed instead. The charges are refilled at dawn.

Returning Weapon gives a +1 to attack and damage rolls of the weapon it's applied on and makes it return to the wielder's hand immediately after it's used to make a ranged attack. With the keyword "immediately", it gives your Rangers and other bow-users infinite ammunition with just one arrow.

We can also get one more 1st-level spell: Disguise Self changes our appearance for 1 hour, or until we choose to dismiss it as an action. The spell affects our body, clothing, and items we carry (including weapons). It is not a physical disguise, just an illusion woven around us; if we make ourselves thinner than we really are, and somebody was to touch the space where our regular body would be, they're going to feel the body, albeit invisible. For the Doctor, this seems like a combination of psychic paper and the Chameleon Circuit.

Level 3 - Artificer: At this level, we get the Right Tool for the Job feature. If we have thieves' tools or artisan's tools in hand, we can create any other set of artisan's tools.

We also get to pick our subclass, our Artificer Specialization. The Doctor is no alchemist, and we'll probably build Tony Stark at some time in the future, therefore we're picking Battle Smith. Those tinkers are masters of protections, being able to put up defensive mechanisms on the spot. Since the Doctor is a diplomat first, runner second, and combatant very close and reluctant third, focusing on support is a good option.

As a Battle Smith, we gain proficiencies with smith's tools, and we gain some more magic with Battle Smith Spells:

Heroism imbues the willing creature with bravery. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), the target is immune to being frightened and gains Temporary Hit Points equal to our Intelligence modifier at the start of each of their turns (AKA every six seconds). When the spell ends, any Temporary Hit Points remaining are lost.

Shield creates an invisible barrier as a reaction to getting hit. It adds +5 to our AC until the start of our next turn.

Although a reluctant fighter, the Doctor as a Battle Smith also gets the Battle Ready feature. We gain proficiency with martial weapons, and when we attack with a magic weapon, we can use our Intelligence modifier instead of Strength or Dexterity for attack and damage rolls.

Finally, Battle Smiths get the Steel Defender. With our tinkering, we create our first companion, a steel defender; it is friendly to us and our companions and obeys our commands. With that, we got ourselves the one and only K9

Level 4 - Artificer: At this level, we get our first Ability Score Improvement! However, instead of upgrading our abilities this time, we'll grab a feat. The Telepathic feat from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything will represent the Doctor's limited psychic abilities: we increase one of our non-physical abilities by 1, let's go for Intelligence. We can speak telepathically to any creature within 60 feet, but the creature cannot reply (unless they're telepathic too, of course). Finally, we can touch a Detect Thoughts spell once per long rest, without a need to expend spell slots. Give your target a good headbutt, and learn their surface thoughts.

We also get our final spell: Catapult turns one inanimate object that isn't worn or carried (and weighs from 1 to 5 pounds) and turns it into a remote projectile. The object flies in a straight line for 90 feet before losing its momentum and falling. If it hits a creature, they have to make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 bludgeoning damage. Distract your pursuers with a head of cabbage flying at their heads.

Level 5 - Rogue: We say goodbye to the Artificer, as we move onto Rogue for the rest of the build. Rogues use the same Hit Dice as Artificers, so nothing really changes when it comes to our Hit Points. We already have proficiency with light armour and thieves' tools, but we can pick one class skill – let's pick Acrobatics for better running and parkour chances when escaping aliens and responsibilities.

Rogues start with Expertise, which lets us double our proficiency bonus (NOT ability modifier) for two skills of our choice: let's boost Insight and History, to best utilize our centuries of living. We also learn how to speak Thieves' Cant, a special system of phrases and signals used by other Rogues to communicate without revealing their secrets. Finally, we have Sneak Attack: once per turn we can add 1d6 extra damage if a) we have an advantage on our roll, or b) the target is within 5 feet of another creature hostile towards it. The attack must be done by either a ranged weapon or one with the finesse property (like a dagger or a rapier).

Level 6 - Rogue: We get Cunning Action, which let us turn some Actions we can do in combat into Bonus Actions. That way, we still have an Action to spare if we decide to use Dash, Disengage, or Hide. Considering how much running the Doctor does, it's good to have something else to do just in case.

Level 7 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 2d6.

We also get to pick our second subclass, our Roguish Archetype. Now, initially, I considered going Swashbuckler, as it combines nimble footwork and gives us some charm abilities. However, since we're going with the build that emphasizes support and actual combat as a last resort, we'll go with Inquisitive.

We start this subclass with Ear for Deceit, whenever we roll Insight checks to determine if a creature is lying to us, we treat each roll of 7 or lower as 8.

We also get Eye for Detail. This is mostly to be used in combat (or if your DM runs dungeons in Initiative Mode), as it allows us to use Perception or Investigation checks as a bonus action, where it would normally take an action.

Finally, Inquisitive Rogues get Insightful Fighting. As a bonus action, we can make an Insight check, contested by the enemy's Deception check. If we succeed, for 1 minute we can use our Sneak Attack on the target even if we don't have an advantage or the target isn't near another of its enemies.

Level 8 - Rogue: Time for another ASI! Let's raise our Intelligence by 1 point, and use the spare one for Strength.

Level 9 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 3d6.

We also get Uncanny Dodge. Whenever we're being hit by an attack, we can use our reaction to halve the damage dealt.

Level 10 - Rogue: Halfway through the build, and we get another shot at Expertise. Once again, we get two skills to which we can double our proficiency bonus. Let's go with Perception and Investigation.

Level 11 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 4d6.

We also get one of the better abilities in the game, Evasion. If we're being targeted by an AoE attack that would deal half damage on a successful Dexterity saving throw, we take no damage if we make the save. What that means is, we can now take a Fireball face-on, shrug it off and loudly proclaim

Level 12 - Rogue: We get another ASI. Let's improve our Dexterity by two points this time.

Level 13 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 5d6.

We also get another subclass feature. Steady Eye gives us an advantage on Perception or Investigation checks if we move no more than half of our movement speed on our turn.

Level 14 - Rogue: Time for another ASI. Let's focus on getting some more Hit Points this time, and get +2 points to Constitution.

Level 15 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 6d6.

At this level, we get Reliable Talent, which upgrades our abilities to almost anime protagonist-level. Whenever we make a check for a skill we're proficient in, we treat all rolls of 9 and lower as 10.

Level 16 - Rogue: We're getting one more ASI. Let's raise our Dexterity again, putting 2 points in it.

Level 17 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 7d6.

We get our final subclass upgrade for this build, the Unerring Eye. We can now sense illusions and magical tricks within 30 feet, as well as shapechangers not in their original form. We can detect there is an effect trying to trick our senses around us, but we don't know its nature (i.e. if we meet a creature that activates our sense, we cannot distinguish whether it's a Disguise Self spell, or a natural shapeshifting ability, or a Druid's Wild Shape).

Level 18 - Rogue: We get another one of the best abilities in the game, Blindsense. We can now detect the presence of invisible and hidden creatures within 10 feet radius of us.

Level 19 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 8d6.

Our mind becomes more slippery with Slippery Mind. We gain proficiency in Wisdom saving throws.

Level 20 - Rogue: Our build's capstone is Rogue 16, which is also our final ASI. Let's finally cap Intelligence, as it should've been from the start when it comes to Time Lords.

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There it is. My take on how to play as the Doctor in Dungeons & Dragons. I believe I've covered most if not all of the important features the Doctor has, but let's see:

Let's face it, we're not a frontline fighter... we're not even a backline fighter. We support. With 14 AC (without armour), 151 Hit Points on average, and a +4 to Initiative, our job is to manoeuvre, around the battlefield and let our friends take care of the enemy, while we do other things. With Reliable Talent and Expertise we are great at sweeping the room for clues and hints, even if in the heat of battle. Thanks to Unerring Eye and Blindsense, our senses aren't that easy to fool.

Unfortunately, our Strength is not great, and that means some weapons are just a hindrance (unless we pick a finesse weapon, which replaces Strength with Dexterity). While we have late-game proficiency in Wisdom saving throws, throughout the earlier stages those might prove a little problem.

---

And that is it for this build. I hope that you guys enjoyed it, and I'll see you for the next one!

- Nerdy out!

#d&d 5e #dnd #dungeons and dragons #character building #the doctor #doctor who #new who #classic who #time lord #artificer #battle smith #rogue #inquisitive #revenant

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taehyungsbabyygirl · 3 years

Text

Socialità

Chapter 1

Genres: Light fluff, tinge of romance and wholesome(?)

Warning(s): The littlest bit of sexual tension if you squint

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Fortune, fame, beauty.

Those are the things that people had associated you with.

Who does not know Y/F/N Y/L/N? You're basically in every magazine cover, every Youtube thumbnail and news headline. Surpassing Kylie Jenner as quote unquote The World's Richest Young Businesswoman and even beating Ariana Grande as the most followed female influencer on Instagram.

Who really are you? Well, to explain it simply to people who are unaware of you, your businesses and socialite status, you are the owner of a multi-billion dollar brand.

What started with a small online business at 16 which sells nightwear for women with affordable, cheap prices had bloomed into a luxury brand known for their elegant, classy clothing line, ranging from lingerie to formal clothing such as glamorous dresses to charming suits and tuxedos for both men and women.

The brand name? After years of rebranding, it's finally official that the name is, Socialità. Fitting with your brand's target market which were rich socialites from across the globe. Of course there was a reason for that, considering that the materials were high quality, imported ones such as satin and silk from Japan, Egyptian cotton, and French lace, also the designing and productions team who were amongst the best in the art of fashion and exclusivity of everything that was made under the brand, without a doubt would result in a higher cost of production and simultaneously a higher price for the merchandise itself.

And all this success did not come easy, there were countless times when you wanted to hideaway and give up on everything you had invested on. At the age of 28, you finally got to where you are now, thriving with the business that you had built with your own bare hands from the confines of your own bedroom.

But, there was one thing that you were lacking in, the love department. Although you were pretty much well-known by youngsters to elders alike, luck does not seem to be on your side when it comes to romantic relationships. It's not that you weren't romantic or sweet enough, gosh you are a hopeless romantic actually, but you just somehow fall for the wrong person, time and time again.

All the people you had dated once you established a name in the fashion world were either self-centered jerks or gold-digging leeches who were only there for the fame and riches. It's as if you had dated way more men than Taylor Swift ever had, except, you don't call these people out in songs.

Aside from owning a lavish clothing brand and billions to your name, having to work with socialite circles, had granted you the socialite status too. You'd be lying if you say that no rich bachelor had tried to flirt around with you but, your previous horrible experiences with dating as a successful businesswoman made you put your guard up and in the end turning you into the most sought after bachelorette of the 21st century.

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"What??? The Bachelorette?? Gosh guys, that would be a horrible idea." You shook your head, swirling the red wine in your glass before sipping on it.

It was a normal weekend evening for you and your peers aka your personal management team which consisted of Selma, Carrie, Lulu, Trey and Giovanni. Sitting in the dining room of your enormous mansion in Calabasas while drinking cheap wine and munching on Cheeto Puffs.

You just finished ranting about how you are so unlucky in love and that you're almost turning 30, without being cuffed to someone. In your opinion, people in their late 20s had already met that person and having good balance in their work, social and love lives but you're here having a nonexistent love life instead.

Tired of constantly listening to the same rants over and over again, Giovanni proposed that you put yourself in a controversial yet exciting TV show, The Bachelorette.

"Girllll you should give The Bachelorette a try, I mean I know that the show is basically scripted but it seems exciting, no?" Giovanni chirped.

"Oh my god yasssss! I'd have the time of my life if I'm surrounded by a dozen of good-looking hunks!" Carrie joined in and daydreamed.

You snorted and put your glass down on the marble surface of the table.

"Yeah but the men on there are usually insincere and only in it for their 60 seconds of fame and the winner of the show is probably just motivated by money. What difference does it make with me going to a private party or nightclub and getting to know dudes there?" You retorted; brow raising to your two friends.

"Sis, the difference is, these men would have to submit a form regarding their background and audition for the show! If you want, we could even be your reps during the audition. We know who are the best people for you!" Selma answered your rhetorical question while pouring herself another glass of wine. She's your PA and bestie so she knew how to reply with the same energy as yours.

Sighing deeply with your fingers pinching your nose bridge, you thought once, twice, thrice and made your decision. Well, what's the worst that could happen right?

"Fine, fine! I'm in with the idea. But if this thing goes south, I.Am.Out." The dominant businesswoman persona in you presented herself whilst the others, especially Giovanni, cheered upon your agreement with their idea.

-----

After months of preparations for your big reality TV debut, it was finally the day for the first week of The Bachelorette. Although you're the one being the prize and the one being chased, you felt uneasy and nervous to meet the men who had passed the auditions to become contestants.

"Don't worry! Me and Giovanni made sure that we only let the best ones pass the audition. And when I say the best ones, I meant, socialites, doctors, businessmen and even kinsmen of royalty!"

"Only the best for our QUEEN!"

Those were the words that came out of Selma and Gio's mouths. Thankfully you have these reliable people to help filter through the applicants of the program. If you gave the show's producers 100% control over who comes in and comes out of the show, it'll be a hot mess and they'd probably choose the men based on their looks and bulkiness but not necessarily the brains and skills.

Throughout the audition process, all of the men's background and names were kept a secret from you by Selma and Gio, it'll be a surprise, they said and you trusted them with it.

Sitting at the back of a limousine alone, you started to fidget with the dangling diamond of your earring subconsciously; a habit that you developed whenever you had cold feet.

The vehicle was heading towards the villa where the first meeting would happen between you, the bachelorette and your suitors.

You and the production team had discussed about how the first meeting would be. You thought that the idea of having to stand in front of the villa's front door while the men arrive in limos were quite cringy and not to mention time-consuming and unnatural so you proposed the idea of having the men arrive in a first come first serve basis and sit in numbered rooms in the villa while awaiting you. In that way, you could see who was punctual and who was late. But the catch is, the contestants only have 5 minutes to chat up with you and leave a good first impression.

-----

Alas, you finally reached the villa and stepped out of the automobile. Your dress was a satin, rosé coloured one with a modified A-line, basque waist and halter neckline; glamorous yet not over the top, suitable for a socialite like you.

Not wasting any time, once the cameras started rolling, you entered the ginormous villa and headed upstairs to the rooms, knocking the door gently before entering the space.

The first man you met was Kim Namjoon, he introduced himself as an engineer, a sound engineer. He was confident from the get go and eloquent too.

"Hmm an engineer ay?" You propped your head with the palm of your hand; leaning against the couch's back pillows.

"Yeah.. My family insisted I do that. I wanted to be a musician at first, and that's why I took up sound engineering now." He gave out a dimple smile which you couldn't help but grin at. They're adorable.

You liked his presence and how outspoken he was but sadly the 5 minutes were before you knew it.

Next, you met up with a gentleman named Im Jaebum. A winery owner. He gave you a warm hug from the first time you entered the room.

"I heard that you're a wine conoisseur yourself Y/N? I'd love to take you to Napa Valley where my winery is. I'm sure we'll have a blast there." He smiled and acted a bit smug.

"That sounds like a plan.. I'm not a person who would say no to wine." You replied with a light wink, returning the smugness to him.

Continuing on, after Jaebum, you entered a room which looked bigger than the previous two you'd been in.

By the big window, there was a man with broad shoulders who introduced himself as Kim Seokjin, as he turned around, he greeted you and pecked your hand.

"Nice to meet you I'm Kim Seokjin, just call me Jin." He smiled softly, inviting you to sit down next to him.

"Nice to meet you too Jin.. So what do you do?" You asked carefully; quite intrigued by how good-looking he is with the slicked back hairstyle he has.

"Well I'm a professor of English and Korean Literature. Probably one of the most uninteresting jobs among the other guys." He timidly admitted; being quite humble.

You immediately disagreed with his statement, telling him that literature components are fascinating and that educating people about it is a magnificent job.

Afterwards you conversed with a man named Park Jinyoung. He was also extremely dashing and he's a car dealer. But not just any car, the ones he sells are top brands such a Lamborghini, Maserati, Tesla and Ferrari.

"My job is amazing. Good money, good image, but there was something missing and I think we both could relate to that, we both are looking for love." He half-bragged which didn't really impress you but you agreed nonetheless.

As you politely excused yourself to move on to the next room, where the man was leaning back and scrolling through his phone. Fair skin and contrasting ebony coloured hair.

This guy gave off a cold vibe to you but that made you even more intrigued to get to know him.

"Hi..." You sat on the couch with him and he gave a small smile as he put his phone the side.

"Min Yoongi.. Nice to meet you." He extended his hand out to shake yours. A pretty formal greeting despite the consequences you two were in at the moment.

You two kept the conversation going by talking about your jobs and background. Everything you asked, he answered in all honestly and you liked that. The push-and-pull game was a fun one to play but with Yoongi, the small talk you had was chill and relaxed, the most natural one you had the whole night.

Up next was a kind looking male, taller than Yoongi who seem to be nervous about meeting you for the first time.

"Hello!" You greeted him with a bright smile to ease his anxiousness.

"Hi, hi.. I'm Mark Tuan. I'm an artist.." He abruptly greeted you back.

"Ooh! Like musically or..?" You tilted your head.

"Visually.. I draw and paint."

You led the conversation with the man since he looked very hesitant and awkward the whole time.

The next room had a bubbly and energetic man who was basically radiating good vibes as you entered the room. His name was Jung Hoseok. As you peeked into the room, he immediately walked towards you and gave you tight bear hug with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"Well besides my job as a paediatric specialist, I also enjoy dancing. Do you like to dance?" He jumped off the seat and proceeded to pull you up with him to playfully salsa. His actions made you laugh happily.

"You're so spontaneous!" You hit his chest lightly, still laughing at you guys' actions.

After the exciting interaction between you and Hoseok, you had to calm down and lower your expectations again after it skyrocketed because of the doctor earlier.

That's when you met a muscular man, if Hoseok earlier had radiated good boy vibes, this one radiated bad boy vibes.

He was Jackson Wang, a well-known socialite who is the heir of Wang Co. Ltd. A company which sells electronics such as smartphones, tablets and computers.

"Hello.." You said softly, slightly intimidated by the man's comparably bigger size to you.

"Hello, pretty lady." He took your hand in his and kissed it just like Jin had but his way of executing it was different. The male kissed each of your knuckle and it got you culture shocked.

"Oh wow.. Okay.." You laughed awkwardly as you looked at the man kiss your hand.

The conversation went well with him despite you noticing that he was practically staring at your with those deep brown eyes while you spoke about yourself to him.

The sexual tension was there and you were hoping, praying that the next man would tone down a bit and let you relax, thankfully custom jeweler, Park Jimin did.

"I'm a jeweler.. And can I just say, I adore these diamonds. You have remarkable taste." He proceeded to run his hand gently through the diamond earring you were wearing.

"Thank you! And I absolutely adore this choker you have on.." You reciprocated his action which made him smile softly.

Next up was the room of a private jet pilot named Choi Youngjae.

"Nice to meet you Y/N! I hope we could create good memories here. I'd love to bring you on a helicopter and show you the aerial view of California." He mused but you're not entirely impressed but acted as if you were in order to not hurt his feelings.

"Aww I'd like that. The view must be amazing!" You cringed at your own words but smart enough to mask it.

Hmm, you foresee someone who's potentially going to go home first in this show. His words lacked personality and character and not well thought.

Come on, you obviously had rode a helicopter and saw the aerial view of California. You ride it to work whenever the traffic is congested. He could at least thought of another country or state but instead he settled with Cali, the state where you are based in.

Disappointed, you moved on to the next room, surprisingly, the atmosphere was different, the area was dimly lit and the man sitting on the chair had his legs spread.

"Hi.." He spoke with a deep, low voice that caused you to bite your lip.

"Hello.." You smiled amidst the tense situation, making your way towards him.

"Kim Taehyung.. Fashion designer and owner of TH Couture." He answered without you asking.

The male was quite blunt but his demeanor was alluring. There was a mysterious aura circling him, totally someone to keep an eye on. The conversation was as intense as Jackson's but the two of you had the same interest which was fashion so you didn't feel as awkward as when you were with Jackson.

After Taehyung, it is down to three more people, you were already losing momentum and excitement as you already had spoken to 11 men that night. Before entering the next room, you took a deep breathe and loosen up your shoulders.

In the room was a man, he looked the most different, he had a lengthy name, a Thai one.

"Kunpimook Bhuwakul, but just call me Bam Bam.. I know my name's quite long and I'm also more comfy with Bam Bam.." He bowed to you like a gentleman and smiled handsomely at you.

"That's an adorable name! Bam Bam huh?" You sat down and grinned at the latter.

"You think so? You're adorable-er" He winked at you and caught you off-guard.

As the five minutes of jokes and flirty pickup lines ended, you bid farewell to the Thai man, little did you know that the person you just talked to was related to the Thai royal family.

Entering the 2nd last room, there was a tall man, looking around the well-furnished room but as soon as you came in, his attention diverted to you.

He greeted you with enthusiasm, introducing himself as Kim Yugyeom, an app developer and gaming streamer.

"Gosh you're pretty." He said straight-forwardly while smiling brightly and hugging you snugly.

"And GOSH you're tall!" You replied with those words and the same smile as what he had on his face. At this rate, reciprocation is really your best friend when you don't know how to react or reply to a certain remark from the suitors.

You talked about the apps Yugyeom had developed and the variations amazed you. He had created tons of apps such as games, workout apps, e-commerce platforms, online stores and sorts. But when he started talking about games, you began to lose interest in the chatter. Games weren't your strongest suit but you were happy that he is passionate about them and sharing it with you.

Finally! The last room! Which meant that this person is the last person to arrive to the villa. You wonder who this latecomer is and when you got into the area, your eyes widened.

Jeon Jungkook? He was somebody you had worked with and still actively working with. He is the person in charge of the photography and videography for Socialità and seeing him on The Bachelorette is a huge surprise.

"Wait.. JK?" You didn't know how to react.

"Hey! There's my girl!" He walked towards you with his bunny smile and gave you a hug. You couldn't believe that this was happening, Selma and Gio must've put him in to pull a prank on you.

"One question. Why?" You laughed in disbelief.

"Can't a man try?" He questioned back cheekily.

You two continued the conversation casually without any awkwardness as the two of you had known each other already. That was when you got to know that he had taken a liking on you ever since you two started working together. Everything he told you had sounded sincere so far.

-----

After the first meetings were over, all the men were put in the lounge to get to know each other's competition while you were interviewed by the crew regarding your first impressions of all of your suitors.

"Well everyone was pleasant. But there were a few who didn't pass my vibe check. I guess we just gotta see how it goes." You gave an ambiguous answer to the camera.

"Who do you think caught your eyes the most?" Henry, the producer asked.

"Hmm.. I don't want to seem bias, I mean this is the 1st episode after all but... Hoseok was fun to be around.. Jackson came off very strong. And well Jungkook too of course!"

"You seem to know him.." The producer stated.

"Yes yes.. We actually work together.. I didn't know that he'd want to participate in this show too." You shrugged and flashed a pearly white smile.

"Do you see anyone who might be going home soon?"

"Oof.. That's a dangerous question. That'd probably be ..."

To be continued (3 March, 12 AM, KST)

Author's note: Sorry for the delay guys! I underestimated the length of this chapter but I hope you guys like it! Don't forget to like and reblog this to show support! Also follow so you don't miss out on updates! This chapter is more of an introductory chapter so we'll be seeing more action and interaction between Y/N and de boyzzz.

Who do you think would be eliminated first?

Tagging @aretha170

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

locked up ~ clint barton;mcu

word count: 2279

request?: yes!

for @stellastyless

description: after having to deal with their weird friendship for so long, her brother and their friends decide to take matters into their own hands

pairing: clint barton x female!oc

warnings: swearing

masterlist

“What are you doing here?”

I raised an eyebrow at Clint. “Wow, that’s a nice greeting. Good to see you, too, Clint.”

Clint rolled his eyes at me. “I was told Natasha wanted to meet me here. She said something about training?”

Hearing him say he was meeting Natasha felt like a dagger through my heart. Of course he wanted to meet Natasha, why wouldn’t he? Everyone loves Natasha. She’s gorgeous and badass.

I crossed my arms over my chest and gave Clint the best bitchy look I could muster. “Well, Tony told me he wanted to meet in here, too. Maybe they accidentally double booked us or something.”

I felt a hard shove push me further into the room before the door closed behind me and locked. I pulled on the knob a little before calling, “Friday? What the fuck?!”

“I’m sorry Miss Stark,” Friday’s voice filled the room. “I have strict orders not to let you out.”

“What? Who gave you those orders?”

My brother’s face appeared in the window of the door. I rolled my eyes as I unsheathed one of my katanas. “Of course. Let us out Tony!”

“Hey!” Tony stopped me before I could pounce. “You know I secured all the windows so you can’t break any of them again.”

I groaned as I realized he was right. After a few...accidents in the compound, Tony had to replace all the glass with bullet proof glass so my katanas couldn’t go through it anymore.

Natasha’s face appeared beside Tony then.

“Nat, what is Tony playing at here?” Clint asked.

“Actually, this was my idea,” she admitted.

“You two have been dancing around your feelings for far too long,” Tony said. “We are sick of it, so neither of you are allowed to leave until you finally talk everything through.”

I rolled my eyes at him again. “There’s nothing to talk about. This is so childish. Friday, let us out.”

“I’m sorry Miss Stark, I can’t do that.” Friday responded. “Tony has given me strict orders to not open the door for anyone except him.”

“We’ll return to check on you guys in about an hour,” Tony said. “Don’t kill each other.”

He disappeared before Clint and I could protest. Natasha gave us a sympathetic look before following Tony’s lead. I sighed and faced Clint. “So, now what do we do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand what Tony is talking about. I can’t dance at all, let alone around some feelings.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke.

Of course, I knew what Tony meant, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Clint. Not when it was so obvious that he didn’t feel the same way for me.

I knew I had feelings for Clint since the very beginning. At first I had thought it was just an infatuation with his archery skills. As someone who was trained in Kunoichi and skilled with katanas, it always interested me to watch someone who was equally as skilled in something else.

It wasn’t until Clint and I were sent to the Hydra base on an undercover mission that I realized my feelings were deeper than friendship. I was tasked with distracting Hydra agents while Clint tried to get in and get the information. I decided the best way to do that was to pretend to flirt with the guards. It didn’t take long for Clint to get in and get the info then leave, but to get me away from the guards he pretended to be my boyfriend. He had walked up to me, put his arm around my waist and talked all sweet and gentle to me before knocking the guard out.

Feeling his hand on my waist, hearing him say sweet nothings to me, even though I knew it meant nothing, still made my heart race and I felt severely disappointed when I realized it was just a role he was playing, although I should’ve known that from the start. And in that moment, I knew that I saw Clint as more than just my teammate or my friend.

But it was also painfully obvious that I was not the one Clint had eyes for. Natasha was. I could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her or about her. They had been friends for so long, partners for even longer. Clint was the reason Natasha was brought onto S.H.I.E.L.D. It made sense that they’d have feelings for one another.

And that’s where mine and Clint’s love-hate relationship came from.

The time within the room we were locked in passed very slowly. Seconds after Tony and Natasha left, I was sure that an hour had already passed. We had nothing to occupy ourselves besides each other, but neither one of us was making any attempts at a conversation.

“Do you think we could force the door open with one of your katanas?” Clint asked finally. He had been eyeing the door for some time. “They’re sharp enough to get in through the slits there, maybe we could maneuver it in some way to unlatch the lock and let ourselves out.”

I shook my head. “These doors have some real defense mechanisms on them. One too many bad guys have broken into this building, Tony isn’t about to let that happen again.”

“And you don’t think Friday will open the door for us if we ask while Tony isn’t around?”

I shook my head again. “Nope. Friday is basically Jarvis on crack. She’ll listen to Tony’s every command and do exactly as he says, which means if Tony says to keep us locked in here, she’ll do just that.”

Clint sighed and put his head back against the wall. “God, he’s such an annoying control freak.”

I glared at Clint. “Hey, that’s my brother you’re talking about. He’s not controlling, he’s just careful and worried. After everything he’s been through, and the countless people he’s lost or almost lost, he’s not about to take any risks.”

“You’re not objecting to the annoying part.”

“No, cause he is annoying. He’s just not a control freak.”

A hint of a smile spread on Clint’s face. “Do you think he locked us in here to see if we’d kill each other.”

I eyed Clint’s outfit, noting his lack of bow and arrow. “No, not when you don’t have any weapons. Too easy of a fight for me.”

“What if I stole one of your katanas?”

“Still too easy, I’m trained to fight with one or both.”

The silence fell over the room again. I wished desperately to check my watch, but realized, of course, that I had forgotten it in my room.

Tony has to be coming back soon, I thought to myself. It has to almost be an hour.

Suddenly, a TV in the room flickered to life. Clint and I jumped up at the same time as an image of the two of us filled the screen. For a moment, I thought that it was a live video of the two of us, until I realized I was holding a bow and arrow. I recognized the room we were in as the training room in the basement of the tower.

“Steve asked you to do this?” the Stella in the video asked. “I’m a little offended. I thought I was good with my own weapons.”

“You are,” Clint told me. “But imagine how unstoppable you’d be if you mastered the katanas and archery.”

Video Stella smirked to herself. “You have a point. Alright sensei, teach me.”

The video fast forwarded a while as Clint trained me in archery. It stopped again when Natasha walked into the room, pulling her bright red hair back into a ponytail. “Hey guys. Am I interrupting?”

“Yes,” came my response, which was overlapped by Clint saying, “No, not at all.”

Natasha smiled at the two of us. “Mind if I practice too then? My skills have gotten a little rusty.”

“Of course, the more the merrier,” Clint told her, offering her his own bow and arrow.

I could remember my jealousy in that moment. I remembered the feeling of anger bubbling up in me as Clint drew all of his attention to Natasha. As per usual, they started talking about their own past missions and old memories while Clint helped Natasha, who very obviously didn’t need it.

I felt my cheeks heating up with embarrassment as I watched Video Stella glaring at Clint and Natasha as I pointed the arrow at a target on the wall. Not watching what I was doing, the arrow flew miles away from the target and hit the wall, causing an indent that I knew was still there to this day.

Clint hissed a profanity before running towards the arrow, attempting to pull it down. As he did so, I quickly walked over to Natasha.

“Hey Nat,” I said. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but do you mind leaving Clint and I to work on this? He seems a little...distracted by you.”

Natasha gave me a knowing look, one that I had chosen to ignore at the time. “Sure, have fun with your lesson.”

“I’m still upset over the damage to that wall,” came Tony’s voice as the TV turned off again. “But I guess I’m glad it’s the training room and not anywhere else in the building.”

“What was that for, Tony?” I asked, trying not to face Clint. He didn’t know I had asked Natasha to leave that day. I had told her she just left, and she went along with my excuse.

“Just to jog your memory, since neither of you seem to know why we want you to talk,” Tony responded. “You have another 20 minutes.”

I couldn’t help but groan as I heard how much time we had left.

“Why did you ask Natasha to leave that day?” Clint asked. I finally turned to look at him to see that he was confused. “You were doing so well before she came, then you...demolished the wall and told her I was distracted by her?”

I felt my heart racing as I tried to come up with some excuse. “I...I figured that I needed the training from you, s-since I had shot the wall.”

“But you were...staring at us when it happened. You weren’t even focusing on the target when you shot.”

I felt frustration boiling over in me and I couldn’t stop myself before I blurted, “God Clint, are you really that fucking blind?!”

He was taken back by my outburst, and so was I honestly. With that out, however, I knew there was no turning back. “Why else do you think I’d get like that when Natasha is around? Why do you think I was so distracted despite not being so earlier? Use your brain for once you fucking idiot!”

“And here you go again,” Clint said, rolling his eyes. “We were getting along before that stupid video played, and now you’re getting angry with me. Why are you like this, Stella? What happened to us just being friends like we were when we first met?”

“I can’t just be fucking friends with you, Clint!” I snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because I have fucking feelings for you!”

I covered my mouth the moment the words were out. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, but at the same time it felt like another one had replaced it. I had to wait for Clint’s response, and I already knew it wasn’t going to be one I liked.

He looked shocked at my outburst. My hands were shaking as I slowly lowered them from my face. I looked around the room, trying to find the security camera I knew Tony had installed in there. “Did you hear that, big brother? I said it! You got what you wanted, now open the door!”

“Not yet,” Tony’s voice responded.

“What else are you waiting for?” I asked. I could hear my voice trembling, but I held back the lump of tears that was forming in my throat. “Clint’s not going to say anything back, he doesn’t like me the same way. Why would he? I mean, have you seen Natasha? She’s gorgeous, and she’s so badass. Why would he ever have feelings for me when he already has her?”

“Stel,” came Natasha’s voice in return, “turn around.”

I turned to look back at Clint, who caught my lips with his the moment I had turned. I melted into the kiss immediately, almost feeling relieved that I was finally able to kiss him.

I pulled away after a moment, looking up at him. “Really?”

The smile that I adored spread across his face. “Yeah, really. I’ve been wanting to tell you for such a long time, but I always thought you hated me.”

“I thought it was easier to pretend to hate you than to let myself get hurt,” I admitted. “I didn’t inherit my father’s brains like Tony did.”

“She said it, not me,” came Tony’s voice once more before the door to the room unlocked and opened.

I couldn’t wipe the wide smile off of my face as I looked up at Clint. “So...what does this mean now? Where do we go from here?”

“We get out of this room and I take you somewhere nice where we can start all over,” Clint responded. “Forget all the jealousy and the fights ever happened and we try this again...but better this time.”

I nodded. “I like that plan. Let’s go.”

#clint barton #clint barton imagine #clint barton x reader #jeremy renner #jeremy renner imagine #jeremy renner x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #hawkeye #hawkeye imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfic #fanfiction

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