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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 4 years ago

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Part 2 baby, I'll put these up on my ao3 soon as well so they're in one place together

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"Dad... you're dead."

Jack laughed. He probably shouldn't have, Danny seemed to be very genuine in his assessment, and Jack recognised that he should probably take this more seriously. But still, dead?? It was laughable.

"Come on Danny be serious." Danny's face remained stoic, "I'm not dead, I'm right here."

"You're a ghost, dad." Danny's lips were pressed tight, his entire body tense. "You died."

Jack was feeling a little ill at this point, was Danny okay? Was there a ghost messing with his head? He leaned toward Danny and grabbed his hand, it was cold, Danny's hands were always cold.

"Listen to me son, you're not talking sense, there's probably a ghost somewhere tha-"

Danny stood up fast, impossibly fast, his chair skidded behind him and toppled over.

"No! Dad can you just- how did you get to bed last night?" He asked.

Jack hadn't been expecting the question, he'd gone to bed... the usual way right? Like he always did, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got into his pyjamas, kissed his wife goodnight, although for some reason the details felt a little fuzzy.

But before he could answer Danny continued.

"When did we leave the party?"

Party? Jack's brow furrowed, oh the party! It was his 50th, how could he forget his own party, had he had that much to drink?

Oh, oh of course. He'd gotten drunk and done something stupid, said something upsetting. That's why everyone was mad at him, that's why last night was foggy.

Danny kept going, he sounded frustrated, angry, but his voice cracked a little. He was upset, oh boy Jack must have done something truly awful.

"What happened after the toast?"

The toast... He had just blown out the candles on the enormous cake Vlad had bought for him, ah that's right, Vlad had been there! He'd hired the venue, planned the whole party, it had been a surprise.

He had handed him a drink...

Danny asked another question, Jack knew it was the last, it felt heavy and final, it didn't even sound like a question.

"What's the date today."

Jack knew the date, of course he knew the date, it was the day after his birthday why wouldn't he know? He'd never been particularly good with dates but not even he could forget his own birthdate.

He glanced over to the calendar on the wall, just in case, he had a sneaking suspicion this was some kind of a trick question.

Jazz was the one to mark off the days, she used it to keep track of her assignments and her tutoring sessions. Each day would be marked with a tidy little line, not an X because they had 'a negative association with failure' or... something. He didn't really understand a lot of Jazz's ideas.

The days were marked off up to June the 18th... the 18th, it should have been the 10th. His birthday was yesterday, on the 9th, today should be the 10th.

How could he have missed a whole week? Maybe this was a joke, a way to get back at him for getting drunk and embarrassing everyone.

But this... didn't feel like a joke.

Maddie's sobs hadn't felt like a joke, Jazz's silence hadn't felt like a joke.

Danny's eyes gouged into him. Danny had always been an awkward kid, he took after Jack in that way, he was shy when he was young, always had difficulty maintaining eye contact. He had no such difficulty right now. They were so bright, had they always been so bright?

It was unsettling.

Why couldn't Jack remember what happened after the toast...

The drink had tasted strange, bitter. He never particularly liked champagne, he assumed that it was normal. Vlad had been smiling, his teeth were sharp... his eyes...

Danny's hands were clasped together tightly, his knuckles bumping against his lower lip as they shook. His gaze had shifted from Jack's face to the gravy-stained tablecloth.

"You're dead. I'm sorry, I know this is hard, I know you still feel like everything is the same but it isn't. You... you're a ghost, dad. Not the kind you're used to, you're just a haunting spirit right now, nobody can see you, nobody can hear you. You can't interact with anything, not yet."

Danny dropped his hands away from his face and looked at him sadly. Jack felt as though there was more to his expression, but he'd never been particularly good at reading people. Vlad had always been better at that sort of thing, it often felt like Vlad could speak a whole other language Jack simply couldn't understand.

Vlad... something was tickling the back of his mind but he couldn't quite grasp it, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Vlad had given him a drink. Vlad had smiled. It looked like a real smile, but Jack felt like... there had been something more to it, Jack had never been good at reading people... Vlad had smiled, his teeth were sharp, his eyes... red, they were red.

The champagne was bitter. He could almost still taste it.

Jack jumped to his feet, startling Danny as he balled his hands into fists.

"Vlad." he growled, Danny breathed a sad sigh.

"Yeah, it was Vlad, he-"

"He was overshadowed by a ghost!" Jack roared, "It's still got him doesn't it? Mads is out there looking for-"

"No! Fuck, dad- SIT. DOWN."

Jack sat. Without thought or question. Danny's command was loud, not deafening but loud in a different way, like he'd heard it through not just his ears but his entire body. It reminded him a little of the concerts he and Maddie used to frequent back in their college days, where the music was so loud it vibrated through them, head to toe.

It took him a moment to realise he was shaking, Jack always considered himself fearless, and that was generally true, so true that he almost didn't recognise the feeling as it swept coldly over him.

Danny closed his eyes and rubbed at them in frustration, Jack was almost certain he caught a flash of vibrant green beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry I... I didn't want to use that- I didn't mean," he sighed heavily. "You just never listen."

He was listening now, if not simply because he felt too shaken to do anything else. His thoughts rattled around trying to piece themselves together, something within him was screaming like he'd just touched a hot surface or a live wire. Danger danger danger danger.

"Vlad wasn't being overshadowed," said Danny, leaning against the kitchen bench, his body almost sagging with exhaustion. "It's... a lot more complicated than that."

"I can't be a ghost." Jack muttered, indignant, "They're monsters, they don't even look human. They don't wake up and hug their wives, they don't want to sit down and eat breakfast with their daughters."

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny's voice was quiet, it had none of that fierce intensity like before. What was that? It wasn't normal, it definitely wasn't human. Jack glared up at him as a hot flush of rage washed over him.

"How do I know you aren't the ghost. That you haven't done... something to my family, to make them think I'm dead!" Jack growled.

He wanted to stand up, but under Danny's icy stare he felt locked into his seat. His expression was mostly blank, but Jack could see a twitch in his brow and tilt to his lips. He could see it, but he couldn't read it. Ghosts were easier to read than this, ghosts weren't usually very subtle.

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny repeated, his voice was so quiet now, tentative and fragile.

He walked over to the sink, Jack wanted to get up, wanted to keep his eyes on Danny and the ghost that might be controlling him, but he couldn't seem to make his legs work. The command still rang in his ears. Sit. Down.

"We aren't going to get anywhere like this." Danny filled up a glass of water and placed it in front of Jack. "Pick it up."

It wasn't a command, Danny's expression had softened once more.

"Please."

Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he did as requested. He could feel the cold glass in his hand, the condensation on his fingers, but as he tried to lift it... the glass remained as it was. His hands simply slipping over it.

He tried again, and again, it wasn't as though it was slippery, or heavy, or even that he couldn't grip it. The glass felt normal, his hands felt normal, the glass just wouldn't... move.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed the glass and squeezed with all his strength, it didn't break. The water didn't even ripple.

"This is a trick..." said Jack. "It's just a trick..."

Red eyes and a bitter drink, people stood around him, faces blurred. He was falling, someone screamed.

Danny started rooting around in a nearby drawer, he pulled out a ragged newspaper cutout. The ink had run in some spots, he placed it down in front of Jack.

It was an obituary. It was his obituary. Tear stained and rough around the edges, torn from the rest of the paper instead of cut, he skimmed over it, almost unable to take it in.

Jack Jonathan Fenton... age 50... survived by his wife Maddie and two children Danny and Jazz...

There was a list of his degrees, complete and incomplete, engineering, physics, mathematics, it listed the names of his high school and university, his reputation as a local ghost hunter, a blurb about his dedication to his work and his love for his family. Jazz had written it, he could tell. She was so good with words.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, please." Danny's voice cracked, his eyes were bright with tears as he righted the knocked over chair and sat back down across from Jack, gripping his hand tightly.

Vlad leaning over him, Vlad gripping his hand, he was smiling, his teeth were sharp. Glass smashed, he'd dropped the drink. It was bitter.

He could almost still taste it.

"No..."

Maddie running past him in the lab, like he wasn't even there, crying. Jazz at the breakfast table, not seeing not hearing, eyes red and puffy. They hadn't looked at him, not once had they looked at him. They couldn't see him, they really couldn't see him.

But Danny could.

"If... I'm a ghost," the words tasted foul and heavy on his tongue, "and you aren't... why can you see me?"

Danny sighed, still holding tight to Jack's hand.

"It's complicated." he said, staring down at the table.

"Vlad, he did this. I'm..." Jack whispered. "But his eyes were... he was overshadowed. It was a ghost that-."

"He wasn't overshadowed." Danny kept his gaze averted, his expression was hard and cold. "It was the accident with the proto-portal, it changed him. He-"

Danny choked up, tears were slipping from his eyes, he gasped a few unsteady breaths.

"He blamed you, he blamed you and wanted to kill you, he's been trying since the attack at the reunion. I tried to protect you dad I tried I tried I'm sorry, I didn't know about the poison until it was too late I'm sorry, I couldn't get there in time I couldn't-"

Danny's sobs shook his whole body, he buried his head in his arms, shaking hands still clasped around Jack's.

Red eyes, sharp teeth, the reunion...

"The Wisconsin Ghost," how had he not seen it? "He's the Wisconsin Ghost."

Then another thought struck him. He looked at his son like he'd never seen him before, sobbing loudly, painfully, his body wracked with spasms as he choked on every breath. He had been trying to protect him, all this time he had known and was protecting him, alone.

When Jack had been told to sit, compelled to sit, unable to move and paralysed with terror, had he imagined the glint of green in his son's eyes? He knew a ghost with green eyes, who could incapacitate someone with a single terrifying scream, who was mortal enemies with the Wisconsin Ghost, who claimed to be a protector, who looked just like a kid.

Danny had been in the lab that day, when the portal turned itself on.

Had the portal turned itself on?

Jack stood, his legs finally acting of his own accord once more, and he rounded the table to pull his son into a tight hug.

"Oh Danny, it was you, the ghost boy, it was you."

"I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry." The words wouldn't stop pouring from his lips, tumbling over and over. Jack's chest grew tight from the pain in his voice.

He ran a hand over his son's hair and shushed him gently.

"It's okay Danny-boy, it's not your fault, you did your best. I'm so proud of you son, we should have realised, you did so much all on your own, I'm so proud of you." It was Jack's turn to start blubbering.

"I should have told you." said Danny, voice muffled against Jack's chest.

He and Maddie always talked about all of the things that they would do to Phantom if they had ever caught him, they'd talked about it during family dinners. Danny had sat there listening, the whole time he had been right there listening.

"I... understand why you didn't." said Jack.

Danny had stopped shaking, he pulled away from Jack and wiped his eyes.

"Vlad told mom that he'd been overshadowed, she's been out hunting for the Wisconsin Ghost all week." Danny sniffed, "I wanted to tell her the truth, I wanted to so badly but Vlad he... he said he'd go for Jazz next. Said if he got past me once he could do it again. I couldn't risk it."

Jack had never understood why a ghost would choose to remain tethered, why they couldn't just move on and leave the living to go about their business in peace. He always told himself that when he died he would never return, he would take what was to come with open arms.

But that wasn't what happened. He'd gotten up to start his day as usual, but he was already dead. There had been no choice, and were he given one now, he didn't think he could bring himself to take it.

His family still needed him, how could he leave them behind? It wasn't wrong if he stayed to protect his family, right?

Jack placed a heavy hand on Danny's shoulder, and gently knocked his chin with a large fist.

"Buck up kiddo, I might need to get a handle on this whole bein' a ghost thing but when I do," Jack's voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl and, for just a brief moment, his eyes flashed a vibrant green, "I'm not gonna let him hurt anyone else."

#lula's fanfics #danny phantom #Bitter #jack fenton #am I projecting my neurodivergant ass on this man absolutely not how dare you sir #I just find not being able to tell if people are lying to me super relatable #danny phantom fanfiction #thanks y'all who told me how to do the readmores

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thesunicarusfellfor · 4 years ago

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Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, ��Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #yandere philza x reader #yandere technoblade x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp #dream smp x reader #technoblade dream smp #philza dream smp #technoblade dreamsmp #philza dreamsmp #phil dream smp #phil dreamsmp #mcyt au #dsmp #mcyt god au

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ahtsumu · 4 years ago

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long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

1K notes · View notes

yourmcu · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace.

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

Note

How about the brothers + diavolo reacting to an mc that smokes cigarettes, but only when stressed out? I hope this ask doesn't make you feel uncomfortable. 🙂

So this is interesting for me because I'm actually an asthmatic and cigarette smoke is one of my triggers. Naturally, that means I'm not the biggest fan of smoking (because I like breathing air) but I'm going to try not to turn this into a straight PSA. I assume if you smoke, you already know what's up and if you don’t, you're probably not considering it and leave things at that. I imagine what you want is the characters' perspectives and not mine, so I'll do my best to give that to you here. I hope you like it!

An MC Who's a Stress Smoker

Lucifer

Not the biggest fan of their habit, but mostly due to smell. Actually needing that bit of stress relief - he totally gets.

After he found out that they smoke he set a lot of ground rules: "No smoking in the House; No smoking at RAD; No smoking in uniform" yadi-yadi-yada… but he never straight up banned them from doing it.

If he catches the MC out smoking, he'll usually keep his distance until they've finished (and ideally changed clothes) before calling them in to ask what's wrong.

If they can't keep to the rules, that's when he's going to start having a problem. Cigarette/cigar smoke gives him a headache and he really can’t tolerate it for long…

If they start smoking in places they're not supposed to, then he will try to ban them cold turkey so better stay mindful about it. It wouldn’t take many slip ups unfortunately…

Mammon

Yeah… I know some people HC that Mammon smokes too. I wouldn't go that far, but I'll say he's most likely done it before.

Mammon picked up smoking for a century or so from his trips to the human world (humans freaking loved tobacco for some reason) but eventually stopped because the smell annoyed Lucifer and it has some weird effects on Diavolo…

When he caught the MC smoking on their balcony the first time, he was a little surprised because he didn't peg them for the type, but throwing stones in glass houses and all that… Who is he to judge?

Mammon actually likes to stick around during their outdoor smoke sessions. It's a pretty relaxing, dare say intimate, affair. He'll grab a cigarette himself and just let them vent about whatever's bothering them. Zero judgment about it all.

He will warn the MC about Lucifer’s dislike of the smell though… They have to be careful or he'll start getting on their case, you know?

Leviathan

Smoking is fairly common among badass characters in anime so it's not like he has a super negative image of it to start with, anyway. 🤷‍♀️

Surprisingly understanding of their coping mechanism, I mean, this man has made a life out of his own.

If he sees that they’re out smoking he may pop out to go ask what's up. He won't be much bothered by the smoke unless they blow it right in his face or something (which is a little rude anyway).

Will be a little disappointed that the MC only does it to calm down and they're not actually some kind of secret badass (or maybe they are, I dunno) but he gets the need to have some kind of grounding more than most.

Isn't nearly as bothered by the smell as Lucifer, but not about to jump in and join them like Mammon… He's pretty down the middle about it.

Satan

Though he can't fault them for looking for relief, he's done enough research into human health that he really can’t condone this method…

Satan, bless his black soul, is going to be the nag of the family. He will bring up how unhealthy smoking is and he will urge them to try and find a different habit.

To be fair, he did the same to Mammon too - but to a lesser extent because demon bodies can cope with the toxins a lot better. Since the MC is human, he feels a lot of urgency… it comes from a good place.

The MC should expect to have to hide from Satan if they’re out smoking because he will crash their de-stressing with a mini-lecture. He won't go as far as to take the cigarette from their hands, but he will ask them to put it out.

He's not blind to their feelings, though. If they’re smoking, he'll ask what's wrong and how he can help so they can just stop for the night. If they do want to quit, then he's more than willing to support them through the transition. He won't leave them high and dry, but he will make his thoughts known. Be aware of that.

Asmodeus

Uh, don't they know what smoking does to your skin? Your teeth?? Oh no, honey, you gotta try something else!

Yeah like Satan, Asmo isn't a huge fan but unlike Satan he's mostly worried about the physical damages alone. Poor guy can't understand why someone would actively do something with those negative effects when there are much healthier options!

He will pretty much be on a mission to give them other stress relief outlets like massages, bathes, music, meditation, or whatever else he can think of. He'll keep throwing stuff at a wall until it sticks. 🤷‍♀️

Again, it comes from a good place (albeit a somewhat more shallow one) but he cares deeply about them and always wants them to always look their best.

Unfortunately, Asmo's not even coming near them if he sees them smoking. He knows secondhand is a thing and he wouldn’t risk it, but he may call them or text them while they're out there to see what's wrong.

Beelzebub

Beel's pretty easygoing one way or another so I see him accepting the MC's choice with little judgment. Their life and all.

Being an athlete, I also can imagine he may have a bit of knowledge about why it's not good for you but he won’t hammer it in like Satan. He might remind them once or twice if they start coughing because he worries… but that’s about it.

If there's anything he's going to be sad about, though, it's if their smoking habit starts to diminish their sense of taste… There’s so many foods he wants to share with them, he hopes they can enjoy it all… 😥

If Beel sees them out smoking, he'll pull a Levi and just come out to see what's wrong. He may not stay long because he doesn’t want to breathe in too much secondhand (still an athlete and all) but he'll still check in on them… Such a sweet guy.

Belphegor

The smell did take some getting used to, but he used to nap around Mammon all the time so it's not like it's unfamiliar. He can adapt.

Really can't give two shits on whether or not their habit is healthy for them. In the long term, that may bite him in the ass, but that’s also kind of Sloth's whole deal so…

More or less would treat them the exact same way, smoking or not, because that doesn't much affect him or his chances to cuddle them.

If there's anything that is going to bother him, it might be coughing when he's trying to sleep... But that won't be a serious concern unless it gets BAD.

If Belphie sees them out smoking, he'll ask what's wrong… but also if they want to just come inside and sleep the problem off. He's trying to help… in his own way. 🤷‍♀️

Diavolo

Daddy Devil smoked and you can't convince me otherwise.

The smell of cigarettes and cigars kind of give Diavolo a knee-jerk familiar reaction - like when you smell a food or soap that you associate with your childhood. It may not be a good smell or one you even like, but you're drawn to it anyway for the memories.

Doesn't matter how many times the MC has changed clothes or how long they scrub their body for, he can still smell it on them and it's like hitting a lightswitch in his brain - he knows that smell and it's oddly comforting…

Diavolo is going to hover around them a lot. Expect a lot of hugs or just standing a bit too close so he can get a good whiff. Lucifer is going to be utterly confused by his actions but Barbs knows what's up.

The MC is strictly forbidden by Lucifer to smoke anywhere near Diavolo, but that’s hardly going to matter. He can pick up when they've done it recently and he'll ask what's wrong… probably while hugging them because he's looking for that comfort too.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

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achillieus · 4 years ago

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning

(pinterest inspired board)

part: 1/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

The day it happened, it wasn't a significant meeting at all, you barely even talked. In fact, when he opened the door of your neighbor’s flat that day with a beer in his right hand and his hair messy, he didn't have any effect on you. You always knew that living next to a director meant that sooner or later you’d bump into the pretty faces of well-known people. Sure, you didn’t expect them to be Hollywood actors like him, but to say you were starstruck by the man, would be the overstatement of the year.

The building you’ve lived in for the last three years has five floors; you live in the 4th, he lives in the 5th. He’s a quiet person, usually spending his evenings out of his apartment. You’ve talked sometimes, about the weather and the weird lady that lives in the 1st floor. You’ve never told him you find his directing style a little pretentious.

You’ve never been to his place until that annoyingly warm August evening, when you find a white button up shirt on your balcony. You can clearly see more clothing when you look up and you’re certain the item you’re holding belongs to him.

He’s not there though. Instead you find a different face behind the door. Lighter eyes and darker hair. The man in front of you is definitely younger than the director. You don’t bother to notice what he’s wearing.

“Can I help you?” His voice is deeper than you expected. Stronger, with a touch of European accent. The sound of English surprises you at first but soon you realize he must be another foreign coworker that came to visit your neighbor

“No, I just think Argyris dropped this and it ended up on my floor.”

He looks at you and then at the shirt, in your hands.

Then he says “Sure, I’ll take it.”

“Okay.”

Then it ends. He doesn’t even ask your name. You don’t have to ask his. You figure out, as soon as you walk down the stairs, that it’s Sebastian Stan that you just talked to.

And while being a big fan of marvel movies, you think nothing special of him at first. You just wonder how a mostly unknown director from Greece got an actor like Sebastian to come here so they can work together. It makes no sense to you, but you forget it when your phone starts ringing.

It would’ve been easier if you never saw him again, yet you do. You see him trying to understand what the old lady from the first floor is trying to tell him. You already know. The elevator is not working. The next day you see him walking up the stairs.

You exchange a quick hello, how are you and then off you both go.

The same night Argyris invites you to have a drink with them in the terrace. Part of you wants to just stay in bed and binge watch some Sherlock episodes. Part of you already thinks of what to wear.

There are around ten people there when you show up. They’re all sitting down in huge pillows drinking and talking loudly. You don’t know most of them.

You sit next to a blonde girl, across from Sebastian. This time you notice he’s wearing a plain black shirt and holds a glass of whiskey.

You don’t share any direct conversations but you learn that he’s afraid of growing old and that he thinks Taxi Driver is one fucking masterpiece, as he says.

When you mention that you’re probably the least artistic person in the room right now, you hear him laugh.

A curly haired woman starts dancing with him at some point. You decide he’s not a good dancer.

He leaves the same time you do, following you down the stairs.

“I thought you live here.” You say when he doesn’t stop at the floor you expect him to.

“Ah no, I stay at a hotel near the centre.”

He keeps talking about his suite until you reach your door.

You part in a blur, with a short goodbye.

He still doesn’t ask for your name.

It makes you feel genuinely offended.

Two days after, he is the farthest thing from your mind, until you find him sitting in front of your door, his eyes roaming the place with despair. And then he sees you.

“Ah finally you are here.” He starts casually. “Thank god.”

You just nod.

“Argyris told me to wait for him with you. We had a meeting but he got stuck in traffic.”

You give him a look.

“He said you’re always at home so you won’t mind.”

Ouch. Yeah sure, your social life wasn’t something to brag about but for some reason the way Sebastian said it, it sounded like an insult.

“Okay, come in.” You shrug, clearly not feeling comfortable and turn around to unlock the door.

You hear him call your name. You thought he didn’t know.

“Yes?”

He offers you an easy smile. “Thank you.”

Sitting in your couch he’s eyeing the entire room, while you put some groceries in the fridge.

“Argyris says you’re a great girl.” He clears his throat. “But he thinks you’re too quiet for your own good.”

You look at him, your eyes flicking up and down his face.

“And from what I can tell, he’s right.” You hear him laugh.

It felt weird to see him laugh while he was leaning back at your cozy pillow. He had entered your life so suddenly you didn’t even have time to react to it.

“I’m sorry but I barely know you.” Your words are sharp. He sits up.

“Okay then let’s get to know each other, what’s your favorite Disney princess?”

Defeated, you laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, this is an important question.”

You wait for him to crack up but then you remember he’s an actor.

“I don’t know.” You think for a second. “Mulan?”

“Oh my god. Mulan is amazing.” You smile at him. “My favorite is Jasmine, she’s just so badass.”

You share your favorites that day, having almost nothing in common rather than your everlast love for animated movies and buttered popcorn.

When it’s time for him to leave, he stops and looks at you in the eye.

“You should talk more often.”

You stare at him with confusion. “I talk,” you raise your eyebrows. “When I have something to say.”

“Good.” he says, still looking.

Later in the evening, you’re eating some yoghurt when he comes knocking on your door.

He’s different. The white tank top he was wearing this morning is replaced with a dark shirt and his face looks tired. You assume they’ve been working since he went upstairs.

“Hiii”, he says dragging the i, “Am I interrupting anything?”

You desperately want to nod. You want to tell him that you were doing the most exciting thing in the world, before he came but you were never a good liar.

So you just tilt your head and take a step back.

That’s when he enters and is met with some loud rock music blaring from your laptop.

“You like AC/DC?” he asks, almost wide-eyed.

“Well, I can tell it’s them when I hear their stuff.” For the first time that day, he seems to be in loss of words. “Why are you so surprised?”

He sits in the same spot in the couch as earlier and laughs.

“I just didn’t take you for the kind of girl who likes this music.” It’s your turn to laugh.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Quiet girl who loves animated films and eats kids’ yoghurt” he looks at the carton in your kitchen table, “and also likes metal music? Doesn’t add up.”

“We’ve basically just met; you shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”

“Fair enough.” He sits back, fidgeting with his fingers.

You take some time just looking at him

There was a certain vibe about that man that made you wonder how it’d feel to cruise down a dessert highway in a convertible mustang with him. In the summer. With him wearing that white tank top.

The color of strawberries emerges at your cheeks just at the thought of it.

You wish he doesn’t notice.

You’re glad to find him looking the other way, before he speaks up.

“We’re going out tonight.” His voice is warm now. “Argyris says you should come along, even though I’m quite sure there’s no hardcore music where we’re going.” He laughs again.

I can’t. You almost say. But then anxiety slips away from you and out of sudden you want him to stop being so freaking arrogant, going around and acting like he knows exactly what kind of person you are.

He thinks you’ll say no. You can see it in his eyes.

“Sure, when should I be ready?” you say, surprising both of you.

He looks at you for some time and then trying to hide whatever he was thinking he says the first thing on his mind.

“How old are you?” He sounds pitiful. He knows. He wishes he could hit a wall; with his head.

“Twenty-one.” His eyes scan yours, unsure of what they’re looking for. “Why?”

“No reason.”

He inhales deep.

You try to blink. You’re at a party in a little bar you’ve never been before and a lot of people are wearing black. Alcohol. You can still taste it on the back of your tongue. You don’t remember how you end up pressed against a dark skinned man, but you can tell he smells of cigarettes and despair.

You sway your body to the beat, close your eyes. Breath in. And out. You think the music deafens you for a second but you open your lids and see Sebastian and he’s watching you, unashamed.

He’s not that far, though it feels like it with countless bodies in the way. The music melts. His gaze is almost angelic. Or devious. You can’t really tell.

He’s dancing with that curly haired woman again. You wonder how intimate their relationship is.

The red neon lights make his skin glisten. His muscles move divinely. It makes you think there’s an entire world inside him, his flesh barely keeping it hidden. Out of sudden you get the urge to walk towards him. You want to see him up close under this dim lighting. But you don’t move.

The man that’s groping your waist asks for your name. You tell him you need to flee. He doesn’t understand.

You sit outside with the sweet summer breeze touching your bare arms. The bass of the music in the background syncs with the beating of your heart. You can feel your ribs grow with every breath you take. Until you stop breathing because the door opens and his eyes suffocate you.

You can’t fathom the effect he has on you. He was a pretty face on screen some days ago. But right now he steals distance and stays near you.

You don’t look his way. He doesn’t say a word. Nicotine and smoke surround you as he exhales. His fingers hold the cigarette butt with care.

“Do you want some?”

You turn to look at him.

“I don’t smoke.” He laughs.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want some.”

You want to know if his breath has the taste of sulfur. You want to pretend it’s the alcohol or the loud music that makes your head hurt.

“What’s the best part of being an actor?” The blue in his eyes glows.

There’s silence but he seems to be thinking about it.

“Do you ever feel things too much?” He says, his voice hoarse. “I mean, when you feel something so intensely it becomes a part of who you are.”

You nod. You understand.

“Acting allows you to let go of these feelings,” he starts. “You share the burden with the audience until it becomes light and you can hold it again.”

You look at him, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I could that,” you close your eyes. “I don’t think I could share what I feel so easily.”

He stands up. The wind hits you again.

“A lot people can’t. That’s why everyone is heartbroken,” he takes a breath, “Feelings eat us raw.”

You both go to bed alone that night. Tomorrow there is a hole next to you.

the morning after, search history

(02:45 PM) hangover recovery

(03:00 PM) best food after a hangover

(03:10 PM) sebastian stan

(03:30 PM) sebastian stan girlfriend

(06:00 PM) xanax side effects

You follow him on Instagram. He doesn’t follow you back. You remember he probably gets tons of followers every day and decide not to let it bother you. Instead you study for the exams of the following month.

The subject of your studies doesn’t interest you. Another poor decision you made under pressure. Sometimes you feel as if your life is borrowed from someone else. Sometimes you feel as if you haven’t found your home yet.

Feelings eat us raw.

His girlfriend looks beautiful in the pictures you find online. The media isn’t certain if they’re still together but you like to think so. It makes it easier to avoid him.

But the universe seems to be oblivious to your thoughts and you see him that same day. You’re taking the garbage out and he’s coming down from the top floor. You meet in the elevator.

“I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” his eyes are smiling as he talks “you looked kinda drunk last night.”

You fidget with the hem of the bag you’re holding.

“I wasn’t drunk.” You notice he’s growing some stubble. You’re not sure you like it.

“Whatever you say, doll.” You bite your cheek trying to devour any sign that might give away how his words make you flinch.

He turns his body a little so now you’re facing each other. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty in a way that doesn’t hurt. You try not to stare at him, but you fail sometimes. You’ve never noticed how slow the elevator moves until you want to get out. You can’t stand being so close to him for much longer.

He’s an arrogant rich actor who loves Disney and smokes a lot, you think. I have no reason to be affected by him.

“Ah! Argyris said we’re leaving for the weekend.” You eye him curiously. “He wants to show us some small villages in the south. He thinks we should get to know the country a little more before we start.”

You’re stunned by your neighbor’s dedication to his work. Sometimes you wish you had something you could be passionate about too. Sometimes you think you’re never going to find it.

“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll like it.” You give him a smile.

He leans his back at the wall. The elevator stops. Finally.

“I like your eyes.” You grab tight onto the bag. “But they don’t smile when you do.”

He opens the door and he’s gone.

They tell you that it’s fun to meet a famous person. They tell you, you can ask for a photo and a hug. They tell you celebrities don’t talk a lot but that doesn’t mean they’re rude.

But he’s not like that.

He’s fire. He’s burning heat and scorching flames. His words are his thoughts; raw. You don’t like it.

late night search history

(00:38 AM) blue valentine movie soundtrack

(01:15 AM) is sebastian stan a bad person

(01:30 AM) acting classes for amateurs

(01:50 AM) cheap leather boots

(02:10 AM) sebastian stan eyes

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when you’re alone.

Thankfully he’s leaving for the weekend, you think.

The weekend, however, is two days away.

You think you can get away without seeing him. And you do. Until it’s late at night again. And they’re all upstairs with music so loud you’re certain the lady on the first floor is going to be rude about it in the morning.

The music tempo has you unaffected. All you think about is if he’s dancing with that woman again.

He’s such a bad dancer, he should not be dancing.

There’s a subtle knock on your door. You know it’s him. You hope you’re wrong.

“Do you feel like dancing?” His face is all flustered. It’s a good look on him.

“You can’t come knocking on my door at 2 AM and ask me to dance.” His gaze is filled with confusion.

“So you don’t feel like dancing?” You roll your eyes. He notices.

“That’s not the point Sebastian.” It’s the first time you call him by his name. You let it slip away slowly, testing the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.

He takes a step closer. You are suddenly aware of your pyjama shorts and your exposed skin.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to irritate you.” His eyes are the cliché blue of the sky. “I just thought you might want to dance, that’s all.”

Suddenly you feel guilty and embarrassed. He’s oblivious to it.

For a moment you feel his eyes linger on you. It feels surreal.

You nod at him.

He’s ready to say something when Argyris comes down the stairs, his shirt slightly unbuttoned.

“Ah man, I thought you got lost or something.” You lower your eyes. “Stop messing with the poor girl. People are looking for you.”

He throws a smile at you and Sebastian takes a quick breath.

“People are always looking for me.”

He gives away that he’s carrying a burden. Your expression softens. But then you look at Argyris and you see he doesn’t really pay attention to these words.

You share a quick look before you’re there standing alone at your doorstep, trying to grasp the idea of him.

When you wake up you feel like running. You can’t fathom where the feeling comes from but it starts like a liquid running down your veins and soon you can’t stay in bed even for a second.

Feelings eat us raw. Only if you let them.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged in this six part story :)

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #monday the movie #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #letyoudown

588 notes · View notes

btsqualityy · 4 years ago

Text

Magnolias in Springtime

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Arranged marriage!AU, ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, fluff, smut, and just a smidge of angst

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriages, brief mention of polygamy (nothing comes of it, promise lol), oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, knotting

Author’s Note: This fic is based on a prompt from the Spring Fest “Spring Will Come Again” hosted by @bangtanarmynet! I really hope you guys enjoy it! P.S: There will also be a part two to this fic so stayed tuned for that!

Prompt: While their parents discuss behind closed doors the terms of their arranged marriage to each other, they meet in the blooming garden to go over their own conditions.

Your pack was your entire life.

Growing up as what some of the elders in your pack referred to as the spoiled only child of the Pack Alpha and the Pack Omega, you were doted on by everyone. As a child, you marveled at the Alphas when they brought back the animals that they had haunted for the pack’s dinner and now as an adult, you were having Alphas dedicate those kills to you as a sign of intention to marriage.

As a child, you tried to take notes on how the Betas seemed to be able to de-escalate any and all types of conflict, always seeming to have a solution that would placate everyone. Now that you were an adult, you found yourself going to those same Betas whenever you had conflicts with your parents or your best friends, because you knew that they would understand you.

As a child, you thought that it was the coolest thing when you watched the Omegas essentially hold the pack together. They were the ones who gave birth, they were the ones who mostly took on child rearing and cooking (even though the Alphas and Betas in your pack always helped out as well), and they were always there when you happened to skin your knee as a child or just needed comfort. Once you became an adult and presented, you found yourself gravitating more towards the Omegas as you were also one now, and they took you under their wings as you learned just what it really meant to be an Omega.

So in short, you loved your pack and you were extremely grateful for everything that they had taught you. Oddly enough, that gratefulness is exactly how you ended up in this situation.

“We really appreciate the fact that you’re doing this for us Y/N,” your Alpha father, Byung-hoon told you as he, you, and your mother Deiji waited on the edge of the Kim Pack’s territory.

“I told you that it’s fine Daddy,” you muttered, bouncing yourself up and down on the tips of your toes.

“Taking on this huge responsibility for our pack isn’t fine, but we’re grateful that you’re willing to do it,” Deiji said. Instead of answering her though, you decided to change the subject.

“Their territory really is beautiful,” you pointed out as you looked around, seeing multiple bushes of plum blossoms and azaleas. “At least I’ll have something pretty to look forward to once I move here.”

“That you will,” a deep voice added and when you turned around, you saw a large, muscular man walking towards you and following behind him was an almost equally tall woman who was easily one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life.

“Ah, hello Pack Alpha Ho-jin,” your father bowed and you and your mother followed his lead, holding the bow for a few seconds before straightening up again.

“Hello Pack Alpha Byung-hoon,” Ho-jin replied as he and the woman bowed as well. “This is my wife, Pack Omega Eun Kyung.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Eun Kyung smiled.

“This is my wife, Pack Omega Deiji and this is our daughter, Y/N,” Byung-hoon introduced.

“Hello,” Deiji smiled.

“Hello,” you echoed, even though your smile was a bit more forced than your mother’s.

“Oh, you are absolutely gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gushed as she stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing your hands. “Our son is a lucky man.”

“I’m sure that I am lucky as well, Pack Omega,” you replied.

“Please, call me Eun Kyung,” she corrected you. “I am going to be your mother-in-law soon.”

“Speaking of, where is Namjoon?” Your father wondered.

“He went off hunting with some of the other Alphas and Betas in our pack,” Ho-jin explained. “We plan on having a very big feast in order to celebrate their impending nuptials and he decided to go and try to find some extra meat.”

“Yeah, or to avoid meeting the wife that he doesn’t want,” you thought to yourself.

“He sounds like he’ll be an amazing provider and Alpha,” your mother smiled.

“Well, why don’t we all go into my office so that we can go over the terms and conditions of their marriage?” Ho-jin suggested before turning to look at you. “Y/N-ah, feel free to look around our territory and get a feel of the place. This will be your home soon, after all.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “Thank you.” After receiving a kiss on your head from your father and a pat on the hand from your mother, you watched silently as the four of them walk away together. As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a large rush of breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding. Even though you weren’t completely excited about this arrangement, your inner Omega wanted the parents of your future husband to like you and after meeting them, you were happy that you could seemingly not have that to worry about.

Deciding to take your future father-in-law’s advice, you walked away from the front of their territory and ventured around. You were amazed at how vast their territory seemed to be in comparison to your pack’s, large buildings and houses searching as far as your eyes could see. As you walked, you took notice of what seemed to be a schoolhouse, a building that seemed to be a sort of meeting hall, and even a building that looked like a store front with mannequins in the window.

The thing that caught your attention though, was a large archway that was covered in gorgeous magnolia flowers. When you stepped over to it, you gasped at what laid behind it: A large wall full of nothing but magnolias stood a few feet beyond the arch, a small bench placed in front of it.

“Gorgeous,” you whispered in awe as you stepped over to the wall, reaching out and gently touching the flowers.

“Who are you?” A deep voice called out and you jumped up a little, your heart almost beating out of your chest as you turned around to find the source of the voice. Standing right underneath the archway, was a tall, tan skinned man whose presence seemed to command attention.

“I-I’m Y/N L/N,” you replied, still feeling a little hesitant and the man’s eyes widened.

“You’re Y/N?” He wondered and you nodded your head. “Well, you’re a lot prettier than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You questioned.

“I’m Kim Namjoon,” he said, smiling at the soft gasp that escaped you. “Your future husband.”

“Oh,” was all you could utter in response because holy shit, your future husband was hot.

“Where are your parents?” Namjoon asked as he stepped closer to you. “I assume that you didn’t come here alone.”

“Um, they’re talking to your parents about the ‘terms and conditions’ of our marriage,” you told him and he scoffed out a laugh.

“Of course they are,” he chuckled as he took a seat on the small bench. “Well, I think that while they’re doing that, you and I should probably go over our own terms and conditions.”

“Our own?” You echoed as you sat down on the bench as well.

“Seeing as though we’re both fundamentally being forced into this, I figure that there’s things that you don’t want and that you do want,” he said.

“That’s..true, I guess,” you nodded. “You go first.”

“Well, seeing as though you weren’t raised in this pack, I’d like for you to learn the ways of the pack and just be a proper wife,” he began.

“I’ve been learning about your pack since the discussions of a possible arrangement started,” you told him. “I have to wonder though, what exactly is your definition of a ‘proper’ wife.”

“Basically, just keeping house, cooking and cleaning,” he elaborated. “As my father plans to step down once we’re married, I’ll be too busy running the pack.”

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble but I wasn’t raised to be a docile Omega and I don’t plan on becoming one once we’re married,” you huffed.

“Why not? I mean, surely you don’t expect to run the pack with me?” He laughed.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I expect,” you smiled.

“How can you expect to lead this pack when they don’t know you?” He asked.

“Since I’m going to be here for the rest of my life, then they’ll have every opportunity to get to know me,” you shrugged.

“We’ll talk more about that one later,” Namjoon sighed. “Anything that you wanted specifically?”

“I know that your pack is going to be providing aid to mines once we’re married and as much as I plan on being involved in this pack, I also hope that you don't expect me to never see my pack again,” you said.

“That’s the custom when you marry into another pack though,” Namjoon pointed out. “Plus, no offense or anything, but your pack is broke in terms of both money and resources and I don’t imagine there to be much to even go back to.”

“I am my parent’s only child and my pack is very close knit so I’d love to still be able to see them and for them to come see me,” you continued. “At least three or four times a year.”

“Alright, I guess that’s reasonable,” he relented. “Especially under these circumstances.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Oh, another thing,” he said suddenly. “I know that this marriage isn’t exactly something that either of us want but you cannot have any...uh, lovers on the side.”

“I’d never do something like that,” you frowned. “But I hope you know that the same goes for you.”

“That’s fine,” Namjoon nodded. “It’s not my style anyways.”

“In addition to that, I read your pack’s history and the whole taking more than one Omega as a wife thing isn’t going to fly with me,” you stated firmly.

“It’s tradition though,” he shot back. “Every leader of this pack throughout its’ history has had more than one spouse.”

“Your father doesn’t,” you pointed out.

“Because he didn’t want one.”

“And you do?” You demanded to know and Namjoon just chuckled.

“You really meant that whole not a docile Omega thing, huh?” He wondered and you nodded while smirking.

“You’re going to be Pack Alpha,” you said. “You have the authority to change tradition.”

“Fine, no additional Omegas,” he agreed. “I hope that means you’re going to be willing to have lots of pups then, since that’s what the whole multiple Omegas rule was for.”

“How many?”

“At least 5,” he replied and you just laughed.

“5 is a pretty big number coming from a man who’s not going to be pushing them out,” you giggled. “Two, at most.”

“Three?” Namjoon bargained and after thinking for a few seconds, you nodded your head.

“Deal,” you answered. “Anything else?”

“Just one more,” he added. “No roses at our wedding.”

“What? Why?”

“They’re overrated and cliché,” he shrugged.

“What about magnolias?” You asked. “Those are my favorites.”

“I like those,” he smiled.

“Well, it’s settled then,” you announced. “No roses.”

“You know, this marriage thing is easier than I thought,” Namjoon said thoughtfully, making you giggle at him. “Do you have anything else you wanted to bring up?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

“Shake on it?” He extended his hand out to you and you let him grab onto yours, shaking each other’s hands.

“Namjoon?” A deep voice called out and Namjoon sighed heavily.

“That’s my dad,” Namjoon told you. “Should we head out there?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, standing up and waiting for Namjoon to do the same before the two of you walked back towards the front of their territory. As you did so, you couldn’t help but to Namjoon hadn’t let go of your hand the entire time.

“Ah, I see that the two of you met and are getting along!” Ho-jin announced happily.

“I’d say that we are,” Namjoon nodded as he looked down at you, and you nodded as well.

“Well, why don’t we all move into our house?” Eun Kyung suggested. “We can have dinner and get to each other more.” After receiving nods all around, the group of you began to move towards the large cluster of houses that were a few yards away from where you were currently standing. As you let Namjoon lead you, you thought that maybe all of this actually wouldn’t be so bad.

..........................................

A few days later, your time visiting Namjoon’s pack was winding down. After the first day, your father had happily told you that the negotiations between him and Namjoon’s father went off without a hitch and that the wedding could move forward immediately so the last few days of your visit had been spent planning your wedding.

“So maybe you and Namjoon can have your ceremony closer to the evening?” Eun Kyung suggested. “So that way we can move right into the reception afterwards.” You, her and your mom were currently in the dining room of Ho-jin and Eun Kyung’s house, going over some wedding details.

“That’s a good idea,” Deiji concurred.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Having the ceremony around 5pm sounds good.”

“Great,” Eun Kyung smiled as she wrote some things down onto the notepad that was on the table in front of her. “A later ceremony will hopefully ease some of the anxiety you’ll have that day.”

“Anxiety?” You asked.

“About your wedding night,” Eun Kyung clarified and your eyes widened. “When Ho-jin and I got married, we had our ceremony in the early afternoon and I was so nervous waiting for the reception to come because I knew what was going to happen afterwards and I had never been to bed with anyone before.”

“Oh,” you murmured. Of course, you knew that it was expected that you’d have sex with Namjoon on your wedding night and if it were up to your parents and Namjoon’s parents, get pregnant immediately but you had done your best not to actually think about it.

“Anyways, I think maybe roses for the flowers,” Deiji changed the subject and you gave her a small smile in thanks.

“Oh, that would be gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gasped. “Namjoon’s grandmother actually has a garden full of red roses and I’m sure that she won’t mind us using some.”

“Actually, no roses,” you spoke up and both older women looked at you.

“I thought you liked roses, Y/N-ah,” Deiji said.

“I do, but Namjoon doesn’t,” you explained. “We agreed on magnolias instead.”

“You both agreed?” Deiji repeated and you nodded your head, making her smile. “That’s great.”

“You know, it’s so nice to see you actually trying to make the best of this whole thing Y/N,” Eun Kyung said. “I know it’s not ideal and you could be fighting this tooth and nail but the fact that you’re not says a lot about your character.”

“Thank you,” you smiled lightly.

“Alright, magnolias it is,” Eun Kyung muttered as she wrote that down onto her notepad as well. Before the conversation could continue any further though, there was a sudden knock and when you looked up, you saw Namjoon standing in the door way to the dining room.

“Hey, you all back from hunting so soon?” Eun Kyung wondered, referring to how Ho-jin, Namjoon, and Byung-hoon had decided to go off and hunt right after lunch.

“Animals weren’t really out,” Namjoon shrugged. “Dad wanted to show Pack Alpha Byung-hoon our warehouse and I decided to come back here to spend time with Y/N.”

“With me?” You echoed in awe and Namjoon nodded.

“I wanted to show you around a little more, if you’re willing,” he offered. Before answering, you looked over at your mother who immediately waved her hands at you.

“Go, go,” she encouraged you. “We’re here for another two days so we can pick this up again later. Right, Eun Kyung?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, turning to look at Namjoon after. “Show her the river.”

“I got it Mom,” Namjoon chuckled. “Y/N?”

“Sure,” you replied before standing up, walking over to Namjoon and grabbing his outstretched hand.

“We’ll be back by dinner,” he called out to your mothers before turning around and leading you through the living room and out of the house.

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” you said as the two of you walked down the front steps and began to walk away from the cluster of houses. “All that wedding planning was starting to get to my head.”

“I figured, which is why I got out of there right after lunch,” Namjoon laughed. “But I also genuinely wanted to spend some time with you too. It feels like I haven’t had a moment alone with you since the first day you got here.”

“I think our families are making sure of that,” you pointed out. “I think they’re afraid that we may realize that we hate each other if they leave us alone together for too long.”

“I think that’s actually a great assumption,” he chuckled. “They don’t have to worry about that though, at least not on my end.”

“Mines either,” you murmured shyly. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Well, even though my mom suggested that I take you to the river, I think that there’ll be plenty of time for you to see that later,” he told you. “I actually want to show you something that I’ve been working on.”

“Cool,” you nodded as the two of you continued to walk and you noticed that he was still holding onto your hand. On their territory, there were a few different clusters of houses and Namjoon was leading you over to a different one, stopping in front of what seemed to be the largest house.

“What do you think?” Namjoon asked and you took a second to look over the outside, liking how it was painted a light brown color, had a large porch that already had a swing attached to the ceiling of it, and a large set of stairs.

“I think it’s beautiful,” you smiled. “You built this?”

“Yeah, for us,” he revealed and you looked over at him in shock. “What? I hope you didn’t think we’d be living with my parents once the wedding is over.”

“Namjoon, I don’t even know what to say,” you murmured in awe.

“Want to take a look inside?” Namjoon wondered, reaching down and pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. You nodded your head rapidly and he chuckled before leading you up the stairs and unlocking the front door. Walking inside, you let out another soft gasp as you looked around.

As soon as you walked into the front door, there was a little open space which could be used to place your shoes and jackets and then a staircase that led upstairs to the second level of the house. On your left hand side, there was an archway that lead into the dining room and kitchen and then on your right hand side, there was another archway that lead into the living room and another room that Namjoon said he planned on converting into a study. Once you went upstairs, you saw that there were a total of five bedrooms and the master bedroom was the largest and complete with an en suite as well.

“I love it,” you gushed as you turned to look at Namjoon, who was leaning up against one of the walls in what would soon be your shared bedroom.

“I thought I’d leave the decorating up to you,” he said. “That way you’ll have control over something here.”

“Good, because I already have ideas,” you grinned, deciding to throw caution to the wind and walking over to him, not waiting for him to ask what you were doing before throwing your arms around him. He hesitated for a second before hugging you back as well, and the two of you stood there for a few seconds with your arms around each other.

“I’m happy that you like it,” he whispered and you craned your neck in order to look up at him.

“I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Anything for my future wife,” he smiled and it was when he said that that you realized how close the two of you still were. You dropped your arms from around him and stepped back, forcing him to let go of you as well. Feeling your cheeks warm up from embarrassment, you turned your back towards him and walked over towards the window to look outside.

“You know Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Namjoon began. “Why did you agree to all of this?”

“What, marrying you?” You asked for clarification and Namjoon nodded.

“I mean, I know the basic reason why but I feel like there’s more to it than that,” he said. “A lot of packs run out of money and resources at some point but their leaders usually figure something out instead of marrying off their children in return for more resources.”

“True,” you sighed before turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Long story short, I don’t want my pack to die out just because of my father’s mismanagement. I love every member of my pack and they have all been so vital to how I grew up and how I’ve become the person that I am. If me marrying into another pack will guarantee that those people can continue to live comfortably, then I’ll do it.”

“That’s incredibly selfless,” Namjoon replied as he walked over to stand next to you.

“I guess so,” you shrugged. “But to me, I’m just repaying the people who gave me so much.”

“That’s amazing Y/N,” he muttered.

“What about you?” You reversed the question. “Why did you agree to this?”

“Well, my reasoning was a lot more selfish than yours,” he chuckled. “It’s always been my dream to lead the pack and when my father came to me a few months ago saying that he was getting ready to want to step down, I was super excited. However, it concerned him that I’m 26 and not mated to anyone yet so he made it a stipulation that I meet someone and get mated before he allows me to take over for him. Since I planned on getting married at some point in my life, that stipulation really didn’t matter to me so I agreed.”

“Ah, I guess that explains why you weren’t too keen on me wanting to run the pack with you,” you said.

“Kind of,” he shrugged. “Although, after hearing why you agreed to all of this, I have to admit that I’m reconsidering that.”

“Really?” You smiled hopefully.

“Of course, you’ll still have to get to know the pack and our ways,” he pointed out. “But I don’t think it would be the worst thing to have you by my side.”

“Great!” You exclaimed happily and Namjoon couldn’t help but to laugh from how excited you clearly were.

“Do you want to go look in the other bedrooms?” He suggested. “Maybe see what you might want to do with them?”

“Mm, we don’t have to. I don’t want to overwhelm myself,” you giggled. “Why did you make so many bedrooms anyways?”

“Well, for our future children,” he confessed and you felt your cheeks immediately become hotter.

“Oh,” you whispered.

“Is that ok?” Namjoon wondered. “I know it might’ve been a little presumptuous of me, especially since I did it before we had our conversation about what we both wanted the other day.”

“No, no, no, it’s....it’s fine,” you shrugged.

“Oh, I get it,” he smirked. “You haven’t been with anyone, have you?”

“Namjoon!” You shouted in surprise.

“You’re nervous,” he surmised.

“Can you blame me?” You scoffed. “I mean, it’s already embarrassing to have basically everyone know that I’m a virgin but knowing what’s expected of us on our wedding night....it’s nerve wrecking.”

“It’s not that big of a deal Y/N,” he shrugged.

“Aren’t you nervous?” You asked him, only to see him shake his head. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve thought about filling you with my knot since the first day that I saw you,” Namjoon confessed. “So if you let me have sex with you on our wedding night, I’d consider myself to be a very lucky man.”

“Really?” You whispered.

“Of course, but I’m not going to push you,” he told you. “If you deicide that you don’t want to, then that’s completely fine. If you do though, just know that I’ll be more willing.”

“Good to know, I guess,” you muttered, more so to yourself but Namjoon still laughed at you.

“Cute,” he smiled widely as he reached down and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

..........................................

A month later, your wedding day had finally come. After spending a week in Namjoon’s territory, you and your parents had traveled back to your pack’s territory where you prepared for the wedding alone. The only other time that you were able to see Namjoon had been when he and his parents decided to visit your territory in order to sign the treaty that would make the connection between your two packs official.

Fast forward to now, you were standing in the guest bedroom of Namjoon’s parents’ house, getting ready with your mom and your two best friends.

“I really wish you would’ve let me make you a more form fitting dress Y/N-ah,” Taehyung sighed as he pullzed up the zipper on the back of your dress. Your dress was pure white, with long billowing sleeves, a scooped neckline, and a loose, long skirt with a small train.

“You know that I hate tight clothing,” you pointed out. “This feels more like me.”

“And you look beautiful,” Jimin spoke up, taking a second to stick his tongue out at Taehyung.

“That you do,” Deiji grinned widely as she placed a crown of magnolias on top of your head. “You look like a dream.”

“Thanks Mommy,” you giggled. Just then, there was a sudden knock on the door.

“Everyone decent in there?” Your father called out and Jimin walked over to the door and opened it up, making your father gasp when he saw you.

“Oh Y/N-ah,” he murmured as he paced over to you, setting his hands on your cheeks. “My baby girl.”

“What do you think?” You asked him.

“I think that Namjoon is a very lucky man to be marrying such a gorgeous woman,” Byung hoon replied, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You ready? There’s still time to back out and we can always figure something else out.”

“I’m not gonna do that Daddy,” you huffed with a smile, reaching out and taking the bouquet of magnolias that Taehyung was handing to you. “I’m gonna do this.”

“We can’t thank you enough,” your father murmured and you just leaned forward, giving him a kiss on the cheek as well.

“What’s done is done,” you said. “So don’t stress about it.”

“Well, let’s go get you married,” Taehyung smiled as he reached up and pulled your veil down over your face.

“Let’s,” you whispered as you wrapped your hand around your father’s arm and let him lead you out of the bedroom.

The ceremony was an unrushed affair once you met Namjoon underneath the little archway that had been placed near the large wall of magnolias where the two of you had first met. You found yourself not even paying much attention to what was happening during the ceremony and before you knew it, you were facing Namjoon as the preacher pronounced you man and wife.

It wasn’t the first time that you’d ever been kissed, but it still felt different all the same. Namjoon was so gentle as he reached out and grabbed the hem of your veil, lifting it up and over your head to reveal your face. He then placed his hands on your cheeks, cradling them as he leaned forward and kissed you softly. You found yourself kissing back on instinct, your hands reaching out and grabbing onto his suit jacket.

The reception was definitely more fun than you imagined it to be. The food was amazing and so was the music, and you couldn’t help but to smile at how everyone in your new pack danced around happily as they celebrated your marriage. You found yourself having fun as well as you allowed Eun Kyung and Ho-jin to lead you around, introducing you to some members of the pack as well as spending time with your own family and friends as well.

Now that the night was over though, you were quietly walking back to your new house with Namjoon, which had been decorated to your liking.

“Did you have fun?” Namjoon asked and you looked over at him, nodding your head.

“I did,” you smiled. “Your pack sure knows how to throw a party.”

“It’s your pack now too,” he pointed out and you hummed in reply. Once your new house came into view, Namjoon helped you walk up the front steps before pulling out his keys and unlocking the front door.

“Wait,” he said when you moved to step into the house and before you could ask what he was doing, he leant down and picked you up bridal style.

“Namjoon!” You shrieked as he carried you into the house and you reached out to shut the front door for him. He then carried you up the stairs and into your bedroom before setting you down on the ground.

“What was that?” You giggled as you looked up at him.

“Well, I couldn’t let you be deprived of a prime wedding experience,” he shrugged, making you smile. A somewhat awkward silence then settled over the two of you then and it wasn’t until then that you felt your nerves kick in. You had been successful in not thinking much about your wedding night for the past few weeks but now that the two of you were alone, it was all that you could think about.

“You know,” Namjoon spoke up suddenly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Namjoon, we talked about this,” you replied.

“We did and I meant what I said then,” he said. “We don’t have to do anything just because people might expect us to.”

“Really?”

“Really. Plus, it’s kind of insulting if you only have sex with me because you’re expected to,” he joked, making you giggle.

“You have a point,” you smiled. “What if I said that I wanted to though, because I want to?”

“Do you remember what else I said to you when we had that conversation?” He wondered and you felt your cheeks warm up immensely as you recalled his words.

“Yes.”

“What did I say baby?”

“You said that you, uh, wanted to....uh,” you stammered and Namjoon smiled, deciding to take pity on you.

“I said that I wanted to fill you with my knot,” he finished for you. “And I still mean that.”

“You’ll be gentle?” You checked.

“Absolutely,” he stated firmly. “And I’ll go as slow as you need me to.” You knew that this was a big step, losing your virginity. However, something about Namjoon made you feel so at ease and besides, he was your husband now.

“I want to,” you announced, causing him to grin widely.

“Can I kiss you?” He requested and you nodded your head. He reached up and placed his hands on your cheeks before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You immediately moved closer to him, placing your hands near his waist. He then took one of his hands off of your cheek and before you could ask what he was doing, he reached up and took the crown of magnolias off your head before throwing it over his shoulder.

“Someone seems eager,” you teased.

“You have no idea,” Namjoon chuckled deeply. He kissed you again, this time much deeper as he walked you backwards towards the bed. Once you felt the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees, you pulled away from his lips and looked up at him.

“Help me take this off?” You whispered, taking a second to turn around so that your back was facing him. Without any hesitation, he reached out and pulled down the zipper on the back of your dress. The feeling of his fingertips against your skin made you shiver and when your dress dropped down to the floor in a pool around your feet, the feeling of his eyes on you made you get chills.

“Did you wear this for me?” Namjoon asked before leaning forward and pressing kisses along the curve of your shoulder, referring to the white, lace bra and panty set that you had been wearing underneath your dress.

“Maybe,” you breathed out, his lips on your skin making it hard for you to focus.

“Gorgeous. Lay down for me?” He said and you nodded before bending down and crawling onto the bed. When you flipped over to lie on your back, Namjoon was working on taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the white dress shirt that he had underneath.

“You still ok?” He checked in as he climbed onto the bed as well and you smiled as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I’m ok,” you confirmed, leaning up and kissing him again. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouth falling open as Namjoon slipped his tongue inside. He then pulled away from your mouth, moving down to press kisses to your jaw before moving down to your neck.

“Been thinking about this, about you,” he whispered against your skin and you just blushed as you looked up at the ceiling.

“About me?”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. “Been thinking about your scent too.”

“What do I smell like to you?” You wondered, doing your best to keep your eyes trained on the ceiling as you felt him start to move down again.

“Like...pineapples and bananas,” he murmured as he grabbed the cups of your bra, pulling them down so that they sat right underneath your breasts. He then leaned down and sucked your right nipple into his mouth, making you arch your back up from the bed.

“Holy, huh,” you moaned and Namjoon chuckled at you, which automatically made you pout. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized after popping your nipple out of his mouth. “You’re just so cute.” You couldn’t find the words to say anything else because Namjoon reached underneath you and you lifted your back up so that he could take your bra off completely, and he didn’t waste any time before taking your left nipple into his mouth.

Once both of your nipples had stiffened to a peak, he moved downwards again, trailing his lips across your skin until he made it down to the line of your panties.

“Lift up for me?” Namjoon asked and slowly, you lifted your hips and waited until he had grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down before lowering your body back onto the bed. Once he pulled them off of your legs and threw them off the bed, you watched as he sat his hands on your knees and looked down at you.

“Still good?” He wondered.

“Seriously, stop asking,” you giggled. “I’m nervous as hell but I want to do this so I’m good.”

“I just, you know you can tell me to stop at anytime and I will, right?”

“I know, and that’s why I want this,” you smiled. “Want you to give me a bite.”

“Fuck, ok,” he exhaled harshly. “I want to eat you out first though.”

“Ok,” you nodded and you allowed him to push your knees apart, exposing your folds to him. He laid down on the bed so that he was right in between your legs, and you let out a loud gasp when you felt his tongue make contact with your clit. He used the tip of his tongue to make slow circles around your clit and even though he wasn’t placing a lot of pressure behind it, you felt like you were going to lose your mind.

“Holy shit, that feels...good,” you huffed and you felt Namjoon hum against you as he closed his entire mouth around your clit. The feeling was almost euphoric, and you couldn’t believe that you had been missing out on this for the last few years since you presented as an Omega.

“I’m gonna give you a finger ok?” Namjoon spoke up after taking his mouth off of you and you nodded, wincing lightly when he began to push his pointer finger inside of you. He then began to slowly pump the digit in and out of you, which made you moan lightly.

“Feels good?” He asked.

“Yeah. Weird but good,” you told him.

“Good,” he smirked. “You’re getting wet.”

“Don’t say that,” you groaned.

“Why not? It’s a good thing,” he shrugged. “It’ll make it easier for you to take my knot.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Good thing you’re stuck with me,” he smiled before leaning down and taking your clit back into his mouth. As he fingered and licked you simultaneously, you found it a little harder to breathe because of the pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” you hissed when he tried to ease his middle finger inside of you.

“It’s ok baby, we just gotta get you stretched out a little bit,” he whispered and you just decided to be quiet and let him do it. Admittedly, you admired how much time he was taking making sure that you were properly ready and it made your heart soften because you had never had a man (other than your father) be so gentle with you.

“Namjoon, I-I think I’m going to come,” you whimpered and Namjoon took his mouth off of your clit for a few seconds.

“Go ahead baby,” he encouraged you before placing his mouth back on you. Sure enough, it didn’t take much longer before your body seized up, your orgasm washing over you. Namjoon continued to stroke you through it and by the time that it passed, you were reaching down and pushing him away from you.

“Holy shit, that felt good,” you giggled, making Namjoon laugh as well.

“That’s good,” He replied as he sat up onto his knees. When your eyes trailed downwards, they widened a little at the sight of the bulge in his pants.

“Should I, um,” you stammered as you motioned towards his pants and he looked down, chuckling before looking back up at you.

“You don’t have to and besides, seeing you come turned me on and I doubt I’d last,” he admitted.

“Oh, ok,” you smiled shyly. He then pulled off the dress shirt that he had on, letting it fall onto the floor before moving onto his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them before pulling them down. He pushed them, along with his underwear, down his legs and your jaw dropped a little from the sight of his cock.

You didn’t know what you expected, but you definitely didn’t expect his cock to be so thick and long. You had to admit, actually seeing it made you even more nervous.

“Hey,” Namjoon called out and you looked up at him. “It’ll be ok. I’m still going to go slow.”

“O-Ok,” you whispered as he climbed between your legs. He reached out with two fingers and gathered some of your slickness from your orgasm before using it to lubricate his cock.

“Ready?” He questioned as he positioned his cock right in front of your entrance and once you nodded, he slowly began to push into you. The stinging pain hit you immediately and you yelped out loud, reaching up and clutching onto Namjoon’s forearms. “Y/N?”

“Hurts,” you muttered through grit teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, bending down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t try to push any further, he waited until you gave him a small nod before pressing his hips forward again. You were almost ready to tell him to forget the entire thing as the stinging pain seemed to become worse the more he pushed into you. Before you knew it though, he had bottomed out and was looking down at you intensely.

“What?” You asked him.

“You just, you look so beautiful,” he complimented you.

“Are you just saying that because you’re inside of me right now?” You joked.

“I mean it,” he laughed.

“Well, thank you,” you responded and he leaned down to kiss you again. He then slowly pulled his hips back before pushing back in, which caused you to let out a stuttered moan into his mouth. The pain was still thee but as he began to fuck you, it slowly went away and was replaced by what was probably the greatest pleasure that you had ever felt in your life up to that point.

“So tight baby,” Namjoon grunted after he pulled away from the kiss.

“F-feels so full,” you whimpered.

“Good. I’m gonna fill you even more with my knot,” he said gruffly as he looked down at you. “You want that?”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” he instructed you.

“I-I want your.....k-knot,” you stuttered and he literally groaned at your words. He began to fuck you a little faster, making you grip onto him and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Been thinking about this,” he moaned. “Been thinking about how good you would feel wrapped around my cock.”

“Me t-too,” you confessed.

“Fuck, you’ve been thinking about me baby?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Since you told me that you wanted to...fill me with your, uh, knot. Thought about you calling me baby too.”

“You like it?” He smiled.

“Love it.”

“Then I’ll call you that as often as I can,” he promised. He continued to fuck you, and you realized that you were feeling the same buildup of pressure that you did when he was fingering you.

“I-I’m gonna come Namjoon,” you announced breathily and he sighed.

“Thank god,” he huffed as he began to thrust into you both faster and harder, and your grip on him became so tight that you were sure you’d leave marks on his skin. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad.”

“Do it,” you encouraged him. “Want you to bite me too.”

“Come first,” he shot back as he focused all of his energy into making sure that you did so. After a few more thrusts, you were coming right onto his cock, your essence covering more of his cock every time that he pulled it out and then pushed it right back in.

“Ready for a bite?” He asked and you nodded your head numbly. Leaning down, he stuck his face in your neck and began to suck on the skin there. As soon as you released a moan at the feeling, you felt his teeth sink in.

You had heard a lot about mating bites and how it would feel when you finally received one, but you could truthfully say that the feeling was indescribable. You truly felt like you were now connected to Namjoon in a way that you had never been connected with any one before and the feeling was almost so overwhelming that you almost didn’t recognize that Namjoon’s knot was pushing its’ way inside of you.

“God damn,” Namjoon groaned deeply as his knot fully popped into you, and you gasped when you felt his cum pouring into you right after. You leaned up and after finding the perfect spot, you sunk your teeth into his neck as well, giving him a mating bite too.

Namjoon collapsed on top of you and the two of you stayed like that for a while, at least 15 minutes, basking in the after glow of your new matching mating bites.

“No offense or anything,” you spoke up. “But you’re heavy and it’s hot in here.”

“Some offense taken,” he laughed as he lifted himself off of you. “My knot has gone down but it’s gonna hurt when I pull out.”

“Go slow, ok?” You requested and he nodded, looking down in between your legs and slowly pulling out of you. It did hurt a little and you even winced a little bit, but it wasn’t that bad all in all.

“Y/N-ah?” He called as he laid down next to you and you gently turned over onto your side to face him.

“What happened to baby?” You simpered with a teasing smile, making him chuckle.

“I’m still gonna call you that,” he assured you. “But I wanted to talk to you seriously.”

“Ok, shoot,” you shrugged.

“I know that you didn’t necessarily choose all of this and neither did I, but I don’t want you to worry,” he began. “I take this marriage and this relationship just as seriously as if we met in the conventional sense and I really mean it when I say that I can see myself falling in love with you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he smiled. “Even though we haven’t known each other long, I can already tell that you’re kind, selfless, loving, and the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever met in my life. I’d only be so lucky if you fell in love with me.”

“Well, I think that I can fall in love with you too,” you confessed, making him grin widely. “And I hope that I do.”

#BAspringwillcome #bangtanarmynet #bts #bts namjoon #bts rm #abo bts #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #rm smut #rm angst #rm fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst

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scarletwidowaf · 4 years ago

Note

Yelena Belova x reader “fake dating” to actual!!!!

Plssssss :) 🥲💛

Moral Of The Story

Yelena Belova x female reader, scarlewidow mentioned.

A/N: might be messy, might be cheesy, but I truly don't care because I live for this chaotic due.

warning: stupidity maybe

words: 2000ish- probably more.

masterlist

You don't know how but somehow training with Yelena always ended up with you being pinned down on the training mat.

"Fuck" you cursed frustrated as she pinned you down for the 3d time in a row. Yelena laughed before she stood up and held out her hand for you to take.

"I let you win!" You said as she pulled you up.

"Sure you did" she joked.

"Seriously. I let you stomp on my dignity because I have a favor to ask!" you said back, a goofy grin playing on your lips as you passed her one of the water bottles.

"Now, that's gonna be interesting" she said as she sat on the floor, her back facing the wall. She gratefully took the bottle from your hand as she waited for you to talk.

"be my girlfriend" you said. The two of you were always comically stupid, so of course that you said that at the same moment she was taking a gulp from her bottle and of course she choked- and of course you laughed.

"I'm Sorry" the blonde glared at you.

"You're not" she responded in between coughing.

After a few moments, she finally stopped coughing and your laugh dyed out as well.

"You're right. I wasn't." You laughed again and she shoved you playfully.

"So, did you seriously just asked me to be your girlfriend?" She asked. Her lips forming her famous-troubled-maker cheeky grin.

"Well.. my fake girlfriend to be exact" you corrected yourself and she laughed again.

"You know you could've started with that, right?"

"And what's the fun in that?"

You smirked at her, knowing full well she found the random question amusing.

"So Why me, anyway..? - Wait, Let me guess.. kate and carol said no and you're scared of Wanda?"

"Okay first I'm not scared of Wanda, I'm scared of your sister.. there's a difference. And Second; my parents in town.. and I kinda told them I have a girlfriend.."

"Oh, now that's classic" Yelena, obviously, found the situation hilarious and you couldn't blame her since you found this dumb conversation amusing as well.

"Does it mean you'll do it?" You asked.

"Yeah why not" she responded you raised an eyebrow at her waiting for the catch. With Yelena, there's always a catch or at least a stupid comment.

"Yeah. I want to meet the poor souls who had to deal with your stupidity on a daily basis for the last 20 years..."

And here it is. You thought.

"I will punch you" you threaten her.

"Kinky" she smirked.

"Whatever stupid. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8" you said as you got up from the spot next to her.

"Wear something nice"

_______________________________

The thing about Yelena is that you can never know what to expect. No matter how much time you spent with her, and it was a lot, she somehow still managed to surprise you.

This time was no different. but in her defense, this time the blame is definitely on you. You saw Yelena wear different kinds of outfits, from gear to fancy dresses, yet for some reason, you just didn't expect the other girl to wear a suit, and damn she looked good.

The gray suit fit her perfectly and her long blonde hair was down. She looked painfully beautiful and you couldn't help but stare- and she couldn't help but notice.

She wasn't doing better, on your defense. The blonde checked you out shamelessly before she sent you a smirk "How lucky I am" she joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Very lucky.. and so am i" Yelena smiled at you and held her hand out for you to take.

The ride was short and 15 minutes later you were standing outside the restaurant.

You could feel Yelena's gaze on you as you bit your lip nervously. "It will be alright" she assured you as she interviewed your hands together. "Thank you" you looked at her gratefully "Don't sweat it" she replayed with a soft smile.

That was the thing about Yelena, people always misguided her for someone she wasn't and it always made you mad. God, Of course, she was strong and fierce and brave and absolutely terrifying at times- but She was so much more than that. She was sweet and loyal and caring, and kinda funny (don't tell her) and absolutely beautiful- inside and out. One of your favorite things about her was her shy and sincere smile, which seemed reserved only for you.

"You ready?" She squeezed your hand. you took a small shaky breath before smiling back at her. "As ready as ill ever be"

The restaurant wasn't busy and it didn't take you long to catch your parents in a corner in the far back of the room. Both smiling wide as you walked towards them. Your mother's smile was contagious and you couldn't help but smile back. God, you missed them.

"We've missed you so much" your father said as he hugged you, your mother doing the same.

"I've missed you too" you confessed before tugging Yelena forwards them.

"I'm assuming that's the girlfriend," Your father said and you nodded. God, You were nervous and Yelena could sense it as she reached for your father's hand.

"Yelena." She introduced herself As they shook hands. Her grip firm and her smile dazzling. "I'm Y/D/N and this is my wife Y/M/N" he introduced himself as well.

"Glad to finally meet you. I heard a lot of great things about you" She said with a confident smile.

Both of you could tell the older man was impressed by the blonde and you couldn't help but smile.

"Were happy to finally meet you as well- although we can't say the same since pumpkin over here hasn't said much about you"

Yelena smirked at you as you blushed deeply. You knew she wouldn't let you forget about the nickname. Like, never. "Yeah, it's actually pretty new. It wasn't really planned neither" she explained.

Your mother, God bless her, wasn't the one to shook hands. The moment Yelena was free from your father's grip she found herself in the woman's warm embrace.

"Okay... I think we should start ordering" you said when Yelena was free again. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. The Russian Assassin wasn't used to be hugged and you couldn't help but smile.

The conversation was light, the wine was good and most importantly, your parents loved Yelena. which was understandable considering the fact she was annoyingly charming.

The Yelena that sat next to you with her hand on your lap was the best version the blonde could pull and you felt stupid for being worried in the first place. Yelena led the conversation with politeness, charm, and grace that you never knew she had in her- and your mom seemed impressed. Impressing your dad was even easier- Yelena didn't even have to try, all she had to do was show her intelligence and add some light humor.

After an hour of light and mostly general conversation, amazing food, many embarrassing stories of you on both sides, and 2 glasses of wine, your mom decided to take the conversation into her hands.

"So Yelena. Tell us about yourself."

Oh boy. Now that might be a problem.

"Well... I joined the avengers a few months ago" she explained "Not long after I met your daughter actually," she said simply.

"That's nice, and before that?" The older woman asked.

"I was a freelance.." Yelena gulped. Her hand squeezes yours

"As?" Your mom asked. You knew she didn't try to push Yelena into this corner, she wasn't this kind of person, but she definitely put the blonde on the spot.

"Well... I was involved with the black market and different criminal organizations. Jobs like getting undercover to dig information or well.. getting rid of powerful men in the criminal world.."

Your parent's eyes went wide. Your dad stared at her with wide eyes and your mom cleared her throat.

"I don't do it anymore" she continued. The blonde seemed as nervous as you felt.

"How did you ended up in this line of work? If I may ask?"

"Mom I don't think-" you started and Yelena smiled at you.

"No, It's fine babe.." she said before moving her attention back to your parents "Sometimes life gets you to places where you have to do bad things to survive."

Your dad's expression was unreadable and your mom seemed worried as she glanced at you.

"Yelena and I met when her sister recruited and pulled her out of this life. Yelena is a good person, despite everything she's been through. That's what I love the most about her." You said.

Yelena smiled softly and your parents exchanged looks.

"I'm a different person now" Yelena promised

"We believe you... but I can't help but worry for my daughter, as you can surely understand. What if the people you've been involved with. Try to get to you through Y\N"

Your father asked calmly. Both were taking it better than you expected and you couldn't blame them for being worried.

"Dad. I know it might come as shocking.. but I'm a big girl and I'm well aware of the risk of being involved with Yelena. I need you to trust me when I say that risks, some worse than the mafia, were a part of my life long before we met."

Yelena bit her lip to hold a smile and you interviewed your hands again.

"You're a doctor" your mom argued "I'm a field doctor. Of the avengers." you corrected her. "which means I'm more of capable of taking care of myself."

Your dad nodded softly to your mom before he smiled at you. "You're are.. Don't you?" He laughed. "Mu little pumpkin.." he sIgh and your mother smiled as well

"I just want you to understand that all we want for you is to be safe and happy. And even a blind man can see Yelena gives you that." He sent Yelena a soft smile. Yelena smiled back at him.

"Take care of my daughter.. she's a keeper" your father said firmly.

"She is. And trust me, I will" she promised.

_______________________________

"Well, that went well" you laughed when you got into the passenger seat. Yelena volunteered to drive which was a relief since you were exhausted.

After the two of you got into your seats the blonde sent you a small smile and took something out of her pocket.

"Is that? A bullet..?" You asked confused as you took the copper cylinder from her hand.

Yelena laughed softly.

"It is. It's the same bullet you stopped me from shooting at Natasha" she confessed.

"I was in such a bad place back then and I blamed Natasha for it. If it weren't for you things would've been very different now" Yelena whispered

"Yeah, both of you were dead since you would've shot her, and Wanda would've probably hunted you down and kill you" you laughed and Yelena's shoulders relaxed.

"Probably" she said. "But with all seriousness... I was aiming a gun at my own sister and instead of pulling your own gun at me, you decided to shield her with your own body and dare me to shoot you as well. Who does that!?."

"You thought I was insane" you laughed.

"I thought you were stupid, putting your life at risk to save someone fucked up like us! someone like me.." She confessed and it downed on you.

No matter what happened or how many good things Yelena had done in her life, she couldn't let go of who she was trained to be. She still blamed herself for all the terrible things she did back at the red room and she constantly tried to get closure by doing the exact opposite- which was probably the reason she killed all these bad men in the first place. But then Natasha came back for her, and Yelena blamed her for leaving her behind to live with the things they did. She felt betrayed and broken, and Natasha's return only made it worse. Like she was just pitting her broken sister.

"All I know is that the Yelena I stood up to and the Natasha I saved that day were not the villains the red room tried to create." You whispered.

"You truly believed that? Even then?" Yelena was crying softly and you cupped her cheek.

"Especially then! I know you don't see it, but I'm here to remind you, you're a good person. Truly. You have a good heart- and I've seen it"

Yelena's cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes red and puffy and her famous crooked smile was plastered on her lips.

"And that's why you love me?"

She was a mess just like back then- when she was aiming a gun at her own sister as who she thought she was and who she truly is were fighting for dominance.

She was tragically beautiful and scared both then and now, yet somehow at the same time, she was more sure and confident than ever before. And I guess that what life is all about. Sometimes, things start to make sense only when everything else doesn't.

"Wasn't it obvious, stupid?" You said and stroked her cheek carefully as she melted into your touch.

Yelena smiled before kissing your hand softly, without breaking eye contact with you.

"You're the stupid one and you know it. Taking an assassin as your dinner date." She joked and you nodded and looked briefly at her lips.

"Well, stupid or not, I still manage to get a kiss at the end of it." Yelena laughed and got closer to you.

"Yeah you did" she whispered and kissed you.

And that was the thing about Yelena. She was good and kind and loyal. And a damn good kisser.

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #wandanat #Scarlet Widow #natasha romanoff #florence pugh x fem!reader #florence pigh x female reader #florence pugh x reader

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spectaclespencer · 4 years ago

Text

P.H. // Part 1; Alone

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Here’s the first chapter! Let me know what you think <3 this is based off of this request I got. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Please know I know this theme/part has little to nothing to do with the actual meaning of the song, but some lines work if you ignore the rest 😅

Summary; After Gideon leaves, Reader takes up chess to comfort Spencer through the difficult time.

Category; Fluff, Angst(?), Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings; Sad Spencer otherwise none!

Word Count; 3.5k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next

It started when I found Spencer one morning. He had fallen asleep on a chair at the bau, and he explained to me that he’d been waiting for Gideon because he promised to play chess with Spencer that night.

“Is Hotch in yet?”

“No, he will be soon. We have a case, JJ is gonna brief us and we leave in 30.”

He thanked me and left the room, with his head down. He kept the same mood during the briefing, he kept drifting off as JJ was talking. Spencer was known to be stuck in his head often, but this was far more unusual behaviour. I figured maybe he slept wrong, or maybe just was simply looking forward to playing chess with Gideon. That was their usual routine, to have a game or two after cases to relax. It was understandable to see him on edge after not hearing from him all night.

As we got on the jet he didn’t sit with me on the couch right away as he usually did, instead he walked over to Hotch in the back corner. I craned my neck to try and see what he was doing and hear what he was saying. He spoke in soft whispers, seemingly asking questions I assumed were about Gideon’s presence. I saw Hotch shake his head, to which Spencer’s expression dropped. He thanked him, then made his way over to the couch beside me.

“You okay?” I asked.

He gave me a quick nod -- yet didn’t meet my eyes -- then curled up at the end of the couch to presumably take a nap before we landed.

We were all worried about Gideon, none of us had heard from him since the last case. We figured he just needed a break from the chaos; having a loved one die would take a toll on any of us. It was logical really, any one of the team would need time to recover when presented with that situation.

Spencer remained more quiet throughout the case, not engaging in conversation when it wasn’t crucial to the work. We ended up sharing rooms but even then he didn’t budge. He mostly sat in the corner and played chess against himself, often zoning out and staring at the wall. It was hard to see, and even harder to sit back and let him try to get through it. I could tell he was fighting himself in his head, probably going over scenarios on Gideon’s whereabouts. I imagine the stress was affecting him heavily -- or at least it was clear with the way his forehead had been creased all night.

Chess. Nobody on the team had a fair shot at him besides Gideon. Sitting there staring at the pieces probably wasn’t doing him too good, only making him worry more.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care because I did, but when it comes to certain things Spencer can be defensive and refuse help, so I wanted to give him a chance to get better. It wasn’t unlike him to refuse help, and I didn’t want to make the situation worse by opening my mouth. Instead, I opted to ask, “Mind if I join in for a game?”

“What? Uh- no it’s fine. I mean, okay yes. Sure,” Spencer stuttered, spooked by my sudden appearance beside him.

“Stop slouching, you’re gonna make your posture even worse,” I chuckled lightly, patting his shoulder to remind him. He shot me a small smile, watching as I rounded the table to sit across from him. I wasn’t too good of a player, but I wanted to make Spencer feel just a little less alone.

“Do you even know how to play?”

“Ouch,” I mocked offense, slapping a hand over my heart. “So cruel, Spencer.”

He raised his eyebrows in a form of asking again, to which I replied with, “Kind of. I haven’t played for years but I’ve observed you.”

“Y-you’ve observed me?” Spencer questioned, resetting the chess pieces on the board.

“Well, yeah. Kind of hard not to. You’re a pretty interesting guy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

I smiled when he finally made eye contact with me. He looked tired -- more so than usual -- with his eyebags a deeper shade than they were normally.

The game didn’t last long. In only seven minutes, he managed to beat me. I groaned at my loss, lips pulled into a tight line. Spencer didn’t react, however.

“Okay that’s enough for me,” I said, heading over to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. “Goodnight Spence. Get some sleep. No offense but you look like you need it.”

He hummed at me, cleaning up the table before he climbed into his own bed.

I could tell he didn’t sleep much that night, as he kept a lamp on and littered his bed with various books. He looked cute, all swaddled up in the blanket he brings with him on every case for a sense of stability. His glasses were perched on his nose, and he was chewing his fingernails -- a habit I’ve tried to get him to kick over the past two years.

We didn’t talk during the night, but we both knew that each other were awake. I was kept up by my thoughts, trying to figure out how to get Spencer out of his slump. Re-learning how to play chess seemed like a decent enough idea -- yet one that would take some time. I was proved tonight that my skill needed to be greatly improved. It was nice in the moment, but realistically it would take a few weeks, if not more, to get the hang of.

The next day at the precinct I was stationed at the map, trying to figure out our geographical profile. I heard faint chattering coming from outside, and looked over my shoulder to see Spencer and Derek talking. I couldn’t hear much, but I did get that Spencer mumbled about calling Gideon, to which Derek answered that he might’ve just missed the call. It was possible, but likely deeper than that.

“Six times? Six calls? Something’s wrong,” Spencer sighed, rubbing his eyes.

I didn’t intervene with the conversation, instead deciding to finally speak to him about it after the case had ended.

On the last day, we all headed to our rooms after grabbing some dinner, to get a good rest before we took off early the next morning.

“Hey Spence, you awake?”

He hummed in response, and I could hear the rustle of the sheets as he rolled over in his bed to face me.

“I know you’re worried about Gideon. How about when we get back tomorrow I’ll drive you down to his cabin? We can go check on him.

“Would you really?” he asked softly. I couldn’t see him fully in the darkness, but I could sense he was looking at me with pleading eyes.

“Of course. I don’t like seeing you this stressed and down. I want to help.”

“Thanks ____, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

After our conversation it was like a blanket of grey was lifted over his head. He settled in more, drifting off to sleep within minutes. I hated seeing him sad, and I did my best to try and fix his mood whenever I could. Spencer didn’t like change, I knew that, and the team knows that. A part of me had a sneaking suspicion that Gideon wasn’t coming back, and I had fear for what that would mean for Spencer.

-----

“Do you want me to come in with you?” I asked, pulling up in front of the cabin and turning off the engine. The only sounds were the faint hum of rain outside, splattering against the windows.

Spencer shook his head and took a deep breath, before unbuckling himself and opening his door. He mumbled something about being right back, as he headed off towards the building. It wasn’t dark yet -- only being four pm -- but it wasn’t too light either.

It looked as if the lights inside the cabin were off, and I could just hardly see Spencer as he knocked on the door. He waited on the porch for a moment, waiting to see if anyone would come to the door.

Nobody did.

It was hard to just sit there and watch, as his desperation grew stronger by the millisecond.

-----

I took deep breaths, trying to even out my intake of air and remain calm. When nobody answered the fifth time that I knocked, I reluctantly grabbed a hold of the knob and turned it. Much to my surprise the door opened, creaking inch by inch as I stood there unmoving.

“Gideon?” I called into the home, taking one step inside. “Jason?”

I wasn’t greeted with an answer, he didn’t come to the door and thank me for coming to visit. It was eerily quiet -- so quiet I took a few more steps inside to create some sort of volume.

“Hello?” I spoke again, louder this time. Shutting the door behind me I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the entrance.

The place had been mainly cleared out, there weren’t many personal items behind. I stalked over to the kitchen, to see if there was any trace of someone within the last few days. It’s been officially a week and a half since anyone had last heard from him that I was aware of. I thought someone must have eaten, or at least left a bit of a mess behind them that would signal a presence.

As I turned the corner to enter the new room I noticed something on the table. I stopped in my tracks, leaning down to take a closer look.

Gideon’s badge, gun, and an envelope.

I swallowed thickly, walking around the table and took a seat in front of the items. When I saw the envelope had my name on it, my heart dropped. With shaky hands I picked up the paper and opened it, seeing there was a letter inside.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me.

You must be frightened, I apologize for that. I never meant to cause you any pain. But then I also never envisioned writing this letter. I’ve searched for a satisfactory explanation for what I’m doing, all I’ve come up with is: a profiler needs to have solid footing. I- I don’t think I do anymore. The world confuses me. The cruelty, indifference, tragedy.

I stopped there, my eyesight becoming blurry from tears. I shoved the letter in my pocket, not caring at the moment if it got crumpled or not.

I was out of the cabin in no time -- choosing not to stay there and sulk in a deeper sadness.

-----

Waiting in the car for Spencer felt like torture. It was difficult, letting him go in there alone to be met with possibly no answers. I was thrown out of my thoughts by the sound of the cabin door slamming shut, Spencer jogging over to the car.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, red flags hanging immediately as he climbed in the car, tear soaked face pointed down towards his lap. It took me a moment to realize he was crying -- the rain had completely soaked through his top layer of clothes. He didn’t reply with words, instead reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a piece of paper. He handed it over to me, still not meeting my eyes.

I unfolded it and began to read -- it was hard, through the tear stains smudging the ink across the page.

“Oh, Spence…” I whispered and stopped after the first few sentences, leaving the rest for him. I didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him.

“He’s gone,” Spencer sniffled, wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his nearly drenched jacket. “He just left. He didn’t say goodbye. He left me a note,” he froze, taking a few deep breaths. “Just like my dad did when I was a kid.”

“It’ll be okay. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s okay,” I assured him. “You know he cares about you, right?”

“I know he is. It’s just-” he started, trying to find the right words between his gasping for more air. “Can you just take me home, please.”

I nodded, while turning the car back on to drive away. Spencer kept his gaze towards the window, refusing to let me see his face. I’m selfishly almost glad for it, because I don’t know if seeing his heartbreak is something I could handle.

It was a long, quiet drive, taking around an hour and a half to finally reach his apartment. He scrambled out of the car fast, but I still walked him up as I usually did. He got to the door before me, thanking me for driving him home. He shut the door just as I got fully up the stairs, leaving me standing with my mouth open.

‘Baby, when you fought me at the door

Kinda hard to force what's natural

Maybe you don't want what you need most’

-----

The next day when he came over after work he was almost back to normal. It was weird to see, to see such a shift in his behaviour after less than twenty-four hours. As much as he tried to hide it, I could tell just how hard it was for him. The sudden change didn’t go well with anyone, we’d all been informed that Gideon wouldn’t be returning and that he’d moved on from the BAU. It was especially hard on Spencer too, since Elle had just left not too long ago, and then Emily joined the team. First he loses a friend, someone who truly understood him as I did, and then someone he considered a father figure.

And neither of them had said goodbye to his face. It was scary, knowing a member of your team could walk out and never return before you know it.

We were seated on the couch, a game of chess displayed on the middle cushion between us.

It wasn’t anywhere near a fair game -- Spencer’s skills were still far ahead of mine. However I noticed it made him smile, and that’s all I wanted. For him to feel loved, and secured. It was a sense of grounding, a routine that was regular in his life. I still wasn’t very good -- not having played since high school and that night on the last case. But I downloaded an audiobook and several player’s guides for the plane ride home to study, because I wanted to learn for Spencer’s sake. However I soon realized it was easier to watch Spencer and how he plays, and to ask him questions. He seemed to enjoy it, having someone else in his life to play with.. And he loved to teach, to help people learn. He was so good at it too, his big brain being used to help people no matter the context.

Eventually he won the game as usual, causing me to groan in frustration..

“You bastard.”

“Not my fault you kinda suck,” he laughed bashfully, lips curling up into a small smile. It was nice to see a bit of happiness on his face, no matter how temporary.

“You’re so rude to me,” I joked, moving the board to the coffee table. “I thought we were friends.”

It was silent for a few moments, with me figuring out what I was going to say next.

“Spencer I know you haven’t wanted my help, but please tell me what I can do for you. Tell me how you feel, at least?”

‘Maybe you don't want what you need most’

“It’s nothing, ____,” he breathed, looking away from me and instead at the wall the couch was facing. He could see our reflection on the blank tv, and instead opted to just look down at his lap. “I’m better now.”

‘You ain't even there for me

Now you're scared to be alone’

“Respectfully, that’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on. I know you don’t want to talk about this but at least give me something. Don’t keep it all in. It’s not healthy.”

His face screwed up at my words, eyebrows furrowed and lips twitching. I could tell he knew I was right, as much as he hated it.

“I’m just- I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Spencer whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

‘Got me thinkin' that you scared of yourself, not me’

It all made sense -- the way he’d been distancing himself lately. It took me promising candy and Star Trek for him to come over tonight, and even then he almost declined. Too many blows to the heart made him afraid to get attached. He didn’t want anyone else from his life to disappear in a flash.

“Look at me,” I said, and he snapped his head to face me. “I’m not going anywhere. I can’t claim to be far in the future, but right now? I’m here. You’re stuck with me for a while, Spencer.”

He smiled, closing his eyes as a stray tear graced across his cheek. I used my thumb to wipe it away, and pulled him into a tight hug. He relaxed against me, I felt the tensions in his shoulders deflate as I held him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. His breath shuddered, and he wrapped his arms around my middle tighter, pushing his face into my shoulder to muffle his crying.

We sat for a while, my hands tracing patterns along his back. It took a few minutes for his cries to calm down, but eventually his breathing evened out with only a few hiccups here and there. He was practically sitting in my lap with his legs flung over mine, suddenly not caring about his personal space. I couldn’t blame him -- the boy was so touch starved he so clearly craved all contact he consented to.

“Do you want to spend the night?” I asked, quietly so I didn’t scare him with the sudden sound.

“Could I please?”

“Of course,” I smiled, pulling away. He still held on tight, not wanting to let go.

We made our way to my bedroom, repeating our usual routine. This wasn’t the first time we’d had a sleepover, and it won’t be the last I’m sure. Sometimes after particularly harder cases he would spend the night, just to be close to someone.

I went into the bathroom to change, giving him the opportunity to do the same. When I returned, he was dressed in a t-shirt and flannel pants he left at my place for sleepovers like this. He was already in bed, and when he saw that I was done in the bathroom he lifted the side of the blanket to welcome me in.

I joined him, grinning as he scooted over and pressed his back to my chest. I felt him breathing softly, my right arm slung over his torso to bring him in closer. He held onto my hand, and didn’t let me drift away. I was happy to comply, happy to feel his body warmth radiate through me.

“Thank you, ____. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Spence.”

From that day on for the foreseeable future, I swore to myself to have check-ins with Spencer whenever it seemed necessary. Whether it was in the form of words, sleepovers, movie nights, or chess.

His smile got brighter everyday, and eventually he no longer felt as much weight on himself a few weeks down the road. He still cried to me about how he missed Gideon, but it had gotten less frequent. And I was always there for him, offering my shoulder and the promise of my embrace. I knew he appreciated it too.

After a few months since our first game, I beat him in a game of chess. We were on the jet on the way to Montana for a case, and Derek was sitting beside Spencer. He kept annoying him, doing little things like twisting his hair and fanning him with files. Spencer kept shrieking quietly -- trying not to alert Hotch of the bickering.

“Checkmate,” I said, biting back a smile.

“What?!” Spencer froze, arm raised in what looked like to be a poor attempt of whacking Derek’s head.

“Awe, pretty boy. You’ll get her next time,” Derek threw his head back in laughter.

“What?” Spencer repeated quieter, eyes darting across the board, likely running calculations in his head.

“Better luck next time,” I smirked, tilting my head to the side. I wiggled my eyebrows, my small victory boosting my ego.

Spencer tried to keep a neutral face, but I could see by the tension in his cheekbones that he was happy. He was enjoying it.

-----

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angelkurenai · 4 years ago

Text

Beautifully reckless - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Beautifully reckless

Pairing: Michael!Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: lately i just felt like reading a michael!dean fic, and since you're an amazing writer, I'd love to see you write a one shot/imagine with him. so here you go, reader is sam's and dean's friend who is a psychic, and after michael possesses dean, he starts feeling something for her that he never felt before? just some soft michael!dean, please? i love ur fics, they are truly unique and awesome to read

“Took you long enough, you bastard.”

The voice tone, to some extent, took Michael by surprise, to the point he jumped on the spot. Though he would never admit to that. He was used to respect, well, fear actually and he was used to hearing calculated and careful words. It wasn't like he had not been called that many more times before, but that was mostly in his face, and not behind his back (literally) and in such a tone. Not when everyone around him knew better than to push their luck. The fact that he really wasn't still around the people who used to tremble in fear when he was facing them, or not actually, and that he, Michael himself, wasn't entirely the same person as when he was in the Apocalypse world.

“I- Excuse me?” he couldn't stop the words from leaving his lips before he stopped in his steps and turned around to face the source of the voice that was so bold.

Within barely the span of a minute, he found himself being stunned twice... or maybe thrice, but there was barely any time to duel on that. Not in those first few seconds. Not when the sudden giddiness overwhelmed him and his breath came out shakily, as if somebody had just knocked it out of him. What was it that had just happened to him made him frown but his attention was instantly back on you.

The smile on the face of the person standing before him was not a surprise on it's own, seeing how much the sparkling and warm eyes told him that smiling was not a rare occurrence, but rather the fact that he had not expected such a friendly and caring, if the words were even enough to explain it, smile on your face after the way the words had sounded. Or perhaps it had indeed been all him and there had not been a real threat behind those words. He, after all, still kept forgetting that things had changed drastically.

“Let me guess-” the smile turned into a smirk, the teasing kind, the friendly and familiar kind of teasing he had truthfully never been on the receiving end and that sent him off balance “This is payback for those three weeks I stood you up in a row huh? Fair enough, fair enough. You had the right to not show up today either so I suppose I should be grateful you're here. And we're perfectly timed too.”

“Perfectly timed?” he repeated “I actually-” but before he could get to complete his sentence, he felt a pair of arms wrapping around him in what could clearly and very easily be described as a quick hug. It wasn't the long, tight and longing one he might have expected, probably because it hadn't been long since you had last been in touch, however that was not what he really dueled on at that moment. Not something he could duel on that is, not when he had to stop himself from returning the hug himself.

It was an impulse which he could again easily recognize, and even more easily blame on you. Because you had to be the one to blame, there was no other explanation. There was no other way to describe the way his body had just straight up frozen, not in shock but rather eager no less than a puppy (he could never admit to that) to turn to face you, eager to close the distance and eager to take everything in, whether it be by just getting to look at you or by, hopefully (why really?), getting to have you melt in his arms. Though shockingly enough he found himself doing the latter, feelings his muscles relax and a soft breath leave his lips when you were wrapped around him. It was strange, in a frightening way, and he had to push back all those feelings despite how he realized that it was easier to breathe with you there, without any weight resting on his chest. It was you who was responsible, that was easy to understand. What wasn't easy was the why. Why all of a sudden he felt this way with you?

“Gosh, Winchester-” ah yes, how did he not realize it? He was indeed the reason why and Michael hadn't even given his vessel a second thought, not until your eyes locked with his and his heart skipped a beat or two “I'll be able to see an angel's true form before you ever get rid of the green plaid huh?”

“I-” he looked down at himself, well aware that he hadn't had the chance to change Dean's clothes just yet “Funny enough, it was exactly what I had in mind too. Was actually planning on it.”

“Oh finally ready to dress to impress? Hm I wonder how I will be able to spot you next in the crowd. Was lucky this time I suppose.” you pulled away, playful smile ever present.

His eyes narrowed slightly in a way that must have scared his enemies in the past but that held no real threat this time, and maybe that was the most scary part: that he didn't meant it to be, especially to you “And... what makes you think I was actually heading this way?”

“Oh I see.” you placed your hand on your hips, nodding your head with a growing smirk “Feeling bold today. We haven't seen each other in quiet some time and here you come, ready to take me by surprise. I must warn you, though you already know, so I better say remind you-” you took a step closer to him and although he didn't let it show on his face, well, on Dean's face (or so he hoped) that didn't mean he didn't feel the flutter in his chest and the sudden weakness of his knees “You-” you poked his chest with your pointer and he could swear he felt the skin of his vessel start burning there, as if a fire was there that was only spreading “Would find it hard to surprise me, Dean. Not many people can, it's a tough challenge.”

“Well, you might have just done it there. It's time you finally found the right person because I was never one to say no to a challenge.” he felt his own lips form into a smirk, even though he was unable to believe how much he enjoyed seeing the sparkle of excitement in your eyes. Soon followed by the very familiar playfulness he could grow used to. And why shouldn't he? He had his sword, his perfect vessel, and nobody could take that away. He was in full control over Deans body and you clearly had not realized any difference, because apparently for what it mattered, maybe he was a lot like Dean after all- or at least could be, and that was more than enough.

“Bold of you to assume-” you pulled away and he had to stop himself- his vessel from taking a step forward to still be close with you “That it's a game with only one player. Let's see just how easily surprise you can be, Winchester. Feels like after years of friendship I might still be able to learn something new about you.”

“Then it would only be right to warn you I am not that easily taken by su-”

His words would have certainly held more value and determination, if not a chance at convincing you, if his voice had not wavered and, halfway through the sentence, they hadn't been cut off by a far-from-manly yelp that broke through his lips.

Well, if that wasn't a first. Again.

“Yeah, I get it. I get it. You macho man.” you scoffed, but the smirk on your lips was so playful that it almost made him forget what had just happened. Almost. Or maybe just for the moment, because he was sure he had a lot of thinking to do afterwards and maybe a much-needed conversation with his vessel about it.

“I- I didn't-” he blinked, more stunned with himself for reacting this way than anything else.

“'S alright-” you grinned at him in the end “Just, enough talking. Come on, this is no place for that kind of stuff.” you giggled and he got the impression that this wasn't a first for you, so really he ought to be prepared to be surprised in more ways than he could ever imagine.

“Wha- what a-are you-” it was so unlike him but everything about this situation was unlike anything he'd experienced before, he didn't really know what he should consider a normal reaction at this point.

“Wha- what?” you teased, mimicking him “Cat got your tongue, Winchester? Come on, move your pretty ass before they give our table away if we keep talking here.”

And just because he was such a fool for you already, or perhaps out of some inexplicable fear that your table would indeed be given away and you would have to part ways before he got enough of it, he didn't need to be told twice. He followed after you no better than a lost puppy, even if he'd deny it for the rest of his existence, not paying an ounce of attention as he should to the rest of his surroundings. And so, he didn't know what should alarm him more out of the two. The fact that it was easy to let go and relax so easily around you or the fact that he couldn't bring himself to be too far away from you.

Michael was confused. And whenever he was confused, as with anything in his entire existence ever since he was in heaven, he was intrigued. And whenever he was intrigued, he followed the one that interested him. Admittedly it had been centuries, if not ever before in his life, since the one to interest him in this way had been a person, and no less a woman like you.

“Feels like forever, doesn't it?” you breathed out as you both settled into your seats “I shouldn't tell you this but gosh... You're making me so sentimental and weak, Winchester, I'll have to change that somehow. But I have no idea how you do it in the first place, so...” you huffed with, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Good to know.” the easy smile on his lips felt both like his own and not “So I have to keep it up then.” and when he realized he too too much pleasure in your being playful with him, rolling your eyes, he didn't feel like questioning whose pleasure it was.

Your lips parted, and truth was he would have loved nothing more than to hear you tease him again, but he was also thankful for the interruption from the waitress and the moment of silence that followed afterwards, because at least then he had some time to gather his own thoughts, replay any moments that should have struck more than how beautiful your smile was or the way you looked at him.

Well, not him, Dean. But maybe-

“You said...” he started just as you'd given your orders, though he had barely cared about that when the thought crossed his mind “See an angel's true form?”

“Wha- Oh that.” you laughed, shaking your head “I'm not even close to that yet, I'm afraid. Not as much as I'd like but that's only because you're to blame, Winchester. I'm being as careful as I can so as expected things are going slow.”

“You've been... trying?” the confusion, if not the worry, was evident on his face much as he tried to hide it.

“If you say one more time that us psychics are too curious for our own good then I will kick you.” you said and proceeded to do just that under the table with your foot, managing to earn a small groan followed by a warm laugh from Dean.

“You said if. But I didn't say a damn thing!” he protested, still laughing and enjoying (far too much) the innocent shrug you gave him.

“Just taking precautions.” you grinned before you paused for a second too long and looked back up at him again with a softer smile, if he could even call it that, because it didn't reach your eyes not the way it should as he had observed the past couple minutes “I just...” you let a soft sigh “I'm sorry. I've- I know I've made you worry far too many times in the past. Scared you even. And well, you're no better sure, but I'm supposed to be the friend who has the functioning brain cells here and I haven't really lived up to that. I know-” another sigh and he was really starting to feel bothered by how much this seemed to stress you out, more than it stressed him out to keep up the act “I know how much you worry you. I really do. So I promise, even if it's hard for me, that I will hold back if I see things getting out of hand and I'm in danger again.”

The words rang in his ears louder than actual sirens ever could.

“Again?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow. He knew he probably looking more accusing than concerned, if not what he felt even more deep down: terrified. And he didn't even know what was more alarming anymore. The way his heart squeezed inside his chest or his palms clenched in order for his body to cope with the fact that his blood had ran cold and the shivers were far too unpleasant.

He didn't like it, he didn't like it one bit and he knew something had to be done about it.

“Figure of speech, I promise. There haven't been any close calls. At least- You know, ever since we last saw each other that is. But that too has been quiet some time. Speaking of which-” the smile returned on your lips and he had almost not realized it was not there until he understood how the uneasiness in his chest was also due to how you looked so distraught “How have things been for you hm? I haven't the slightest idea about what my two idiots have been up to lately. Is Sam alright?”

“Well, he's been... keeping busy, to say the least. Same goes for me. I wouldn't even know where to begin. Think of it as... a multiverse of madness being out there that needs the Winchesters to deal with.” he forced a small smile on his lips but he barely felt it to begin with, even if you were trying to stir the conversation away from any dangerous endeavors you might's recently had. And, truth be told, he couldn't even begin to think of all the times you might've gotten in trouble that weren't because of your own actions. The mere realization of that fact brought another unpleasant shiver down his spine.

“Ah, makes sense. We've been meeting up in this place at least once every week. 'S good though, I suppose, to take a break once in a while.” you gave a soft shrug, resting your chin on your palm and looked at him through your lashes “I am afraid we were both turning into two very sentimental fools, after all. Coming here, in the place we first met, after all these years.” a small laugh escaped your lips but he could hear the nervousness behind it, see how shy you were about it and deep down he loved seeing this side of you as well, if not wonder what else he could possibly do to evoke it “What are we anyway?”

The question did something to him and he soon realized it wasn't really him, but Dean. He couldn't always tell the difference, what with the Winchester being his perfect vessel, but in that moment he could, crystal clear. And once again it piqued his interest.

“Well, I don't know about you but I for one-” he paused to look into your eyes, to try and read some sort of emotion on your eyes that he might miss otherwise “Don't think I mind so much. Hell, I'll take pride in being always a fool for you.”

To see the way your eyes widened and your back straightened in surprise. Surprise that the words were said out loud or that they were said and were straight to the point, he couldn't tell. What he could tell was that you were not used to this and it was a good thing because things were changing and in a way this should too.

“Ah Dean, whatever happened to you these past months?” you looked away from him when you snapped out of the shock you were in, not that the small forced laugh was any indicator but the fact that you still felt stunned if not shy. You shook your head “Have some mercy on my poor heart, will you? Don't say things like that so carelessly.”

“I'm not being careless. If anything... I'm being honest.” and doing an incredible job at not showing how much that scares me but he couldn't really say that out loud and he knew “Besides, you were the one who started it.”

“Well, yes but actually no. This is what we do, Dean, you can't just go and- and be so... open about it. We-” a nervous laugh that he found too adorable for his poor heart's sake, well Dean's actually but it felt all the same at that moment “What was it that Sam called it? Uh yes, we're both too emotionally constipated to function like proper humans.”

“We don't talk about it remember?” you added in almost a whisper voice, making Michael wonder what was really there more than your playful banter and the way his vessel's heart couldn't rest for a minute “Besides, I know you're not as cool about it as you'd like to think. I can see it all over your face, so stop pretending Winchester.” you huffed, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed over your chest, and he realized maybe he had underestimated you.

“And that is supposed to mean... what exactly?” he couldn't help the edge his voice took, too many years, centuries that felt an eternity, had taken their toll on him.

“Well, many things actually. But what matters most right now is one...” you tilted your head to the side, a soft expression on your face which stunned him momentarily “There's something on your mind.” it was a statement the left no room for debate “Wanna talk about it?”

The mere sincerity and care in your words were too much to believe in this entirely unprecedented event, and so it was no surprise when the words got stuck in his throat and his mind went entirely bank. Despite the lump that was stuck in his throat, despite how hard it was to swallow it over, the words in the very end formed before he could even comprehend it. And they were some of the most honest ones he'd spoke in a long time “Do I?” he questioned, mostly himself without any expectations for an answer “Funny...”

“What's funny about it?” naturally, though, you didn't hold back. It was clear that no matter how well you could read him, no matter how he was an open book to you, you wanted to know more of him. But which him was the real question.

Michael couldn't even remember when it was the last time that someone cared to know about him. Him, and not whoever had granted him access to wear around. Him, and not whatever face he had. Him, and how he felt. Him, and how he he thought. Him, and why he had done everything he did, what had led him to it and how he felt about it. It was a scary thought and feeling. Scary to hope there could be someone that would look past all of those layers, all that the eyes could see, and try to understand him. Scary that he wanted it, even more. Scary that after all this time, at the most tumultuous time and as he was in the right path to his goals, he felt the need for something so deep. Scary that it could lead him away from said path.

Who was even that reckless to try any of it though? Who could so carelessly approach him and-

“Nothing.” the question answered itself “It's just amusing how... strange it sounds to hear someone ask me if I wanna talk about what troubles me, after all this time. But-” he said as fast as he could, the second he saw you frown in worry “We have plenty of time to talk about that and I promise we will. Later. For now-” he grinned, leaning back in his seat “Seeing an angel's true form huh? That's quiet reckless, you know. If not stupid and careless...”

“Yeah, I know, I was just throwing out the idea that I might-”

“But also fun.” he added before you could get to complete your sentence, enjoying the way that after your frown a smile light up your face once he added with a smirk “Want any help with that?”

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot #michael!dean #michael!dean imagine #michael!dean x reader

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afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago

Text

Kin

Summary: Bucky’s been acting weird and you can’t help it when you expect the worst.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, swearing, breeding kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, GGFIL (you’ll see), arguing, cheating accusations

(A/N: this is different but I had fun writing it. And isn’t that what matters. Reblog follow like 💜✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @mochamaniacbabe @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @whiskey-cokenfanfic @doloreshazes

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Bucky had never given you a reason to not trust him. He’d been nothing, but the perfect boyfriend now fiancé for the two years you’d been together. Sure it was a little difficult dating an Avenger mostly because you worried about him coming back to you, but still being with him was kind of perfect.

The first time you started to sort of question things was when a phone number fell out of his pocket while you were doing laundry. Some girls name written on a napkin. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions especially since it’s not like he wasn’t meeting new people everyday because of work. Who knows it was probably nothing.

Then he came home all late that day smelling like vanilla. You know it was bad, but you tried to check his phone while he was sleeping. Not that it worked because your super assassin fiancé was a very light sleeper and woke up before you could even try.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, in that sleepy voice.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you said, playing it off by stroking his hair. You know you should have said something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

All he did was smile and kiss you before pulling you close. Like everything was fine. You know you should have asked him right then. The words had been on the tip of your tongue.

But you didn’t ask. Instead you let him roll on top of you before he started making out with you. Would a man that’s cheating be fucking your mouth with his tongue like that. Probably.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked with a sigh, putting his forehead to yours.

You shrugged, looking down at his mouth so you didn’t have to look him in the eye. “It’s nothing.” Then you out a fake smile on to really sell it.

“Come on,” he whispered. “You know I know you better than that. If somethings wrong you can tell me. Daddy’ll take care of you, Doll.”

You made the mistake of looking into his blue eye that seemed to be seeing into your soul. There was always this gentleness towards you. That he seemed to save for you especially.

“I’m fine,” you replied before rolling over on your side away from him. Bucky sighed again before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Hey, so I’m busy tomorrow, but when I get home why don’t we do something?” He asked into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it. “Just the two of us?”

You nodded, but didn’t reply out loud because if you did he’d hear that you were crying. You’d rather not deal with it.

So the next day you went to get some stuff done. Grocery shopping and shit. On the way home you passed by this coffee shop, recognizing his car as some girl got into the passanger seat.

Your stomach felt like it was doing fucking somersaults on the way home. You tried to keep yourself busy. Not wanting to think about Bucky or his lying cheating face.

When the door opened, you could hear him set his keys down on the table beside the door. You were making dinner because you were hungry. He could worry about himself.

“Fuck it smells good in here, Baby,” he said, coming to hug you from behind before kissing your cheek.

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead you continued to cook and even though he noticed how quiet you were, he didn’t let go of you.

“What? No hello?” He asked, kissing your neck.

You tried to shrug him off, but no you just had to be engaged to a super assassin who was strong as fuck.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head because you were pretty sure if you’d say anything you’d explode. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it. You were trying to keep an ounce of dignity instead of blowing up like your brain was telling you too. “Nothing.”

Bucky leaned up against the counter beside you, bringing your face up so he could look at you. “Baby, I know you better than that.” He tried to smile to get you to open up then it faltered when he saw that you were clearly not in the mood. “C’mon. Just tell me what’s up.”

“Nothing, James.” You turned off the stove because now you’d lost your appetite. As you tried to walk away he grabbed your hand.

At hearing his first name, he crinkled his nose. “Baby,” he whined all pouty, “please. I let it go last night, but you’ve never not talked to me. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’re supposed to be getting married in two months and you’re cheating on me.”

Bucky looked so taken aback. His face getting all scrunched up. “What?”

“Oh so now you don’t know what I’m talking about?” You scoffed. “I saw you.”

“Saw me doing what?” He scoffed out a laugh. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Bullshit!” You yelled. “You’re lying to me!”

His jaw clenched as you raised your voice. “Watch your tone,” he commanded. “I didn’t cheat on you. I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”

“Really? Well then who the fuck is Becca?” You finally asked.

Bucky pulled away and you finally turned to face him. “How did you...” he trailed off.

“So, it’s true. You’re cheating on me?” You asked with a sniffle.

He shook his head. “No! Of course not, Baby,” he said.

“You’re lying! I saw you, James. I fucking saw you with her!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Let’s just calm down so we can talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. I want you out.”

He shook his head. “No, Baby,” he said. “I know how this looks, but I promise it’s not like that. I’m not... I’m not cheating on you. I’d never.”

“Fine then explain.”

Bucky hesitated. Closing his eyes like he was trying to find the right words.

“If you don’t tell me then I want you out.”

It wasn’t like this was the first time you and Bucky had ever fought. This was just the first time you’d ever done this. Usually when he messed up, he’d buy you flowers or kiss you until you forgave him. This time you needed to let him know that none of that would work.

He scrunched up his face before finally looking at you. “Okay. Becca is...” he took a deep breath. “Becca’s my great granddaughter.”

You also finally understood what it meant for it to be so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Bucky’s eyes bore into yours as he gave his answer.

“Can we just sit and talk?” He asked.

You nodded and he turned off the stove so he could grab your hand to lead you over to the couch. He sat you down in his lap and you couldn’t help it as you started crying into his chest because you felt like the worlds biggest asshole.

“Hey, Baby, don’t cry,” he said. “Not like you could have known. Hell not like I knew until recently.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him with tears in your eyes. “We usually tell each other everything.”

“Because... I dunno I was waiting for the right time. It’s kind of hard to go to your fiancé and ‘go hey meet my great granddaughter, Baby.’” He chuckled before wiping your tears. “Or that I have a son and he’s seventy-six.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Bucky nodded and laughed. “I know right. It’s...” he sighed, “it’s so weird, but I’ve been hanging out with them and its been kind of great actually. Having a family. Hate that I didn’t get to see him grow up.”

“God I’m... such a bitch.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You would have never guessed,” he replied, placing a kiss to the side of your head. “So, yeah. Becca is my great granddaughter. I was picking her up from work. She’s seventeen.” He looked down then at you again. “I just... I wanna be in their lives. Make up for lost time.”

You nodded. “I get that.”

“I should have told you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to get freaked out.”

“Bucky, I’d never get freaked out over something like that,” you said. “Things are different for you and I wanna be as understanding as possible.”

He smiled. “I know, but doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know.” You put your head into his neck. “God I’m such an asshole.”

“No you’re not. Any woman would have assumed the worst like you did. I didn’t give you any reason not to.”

Your lip trembled as tears fell from your eyes again. “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“I know, Baby,” he whispered.

“So, how did you find out?” You asked.

“Becca came looking for me. Saw stuff about the Avengers and saw me. My son James, his mom told him all about me so...”

You smiled, but you were still all teary eyed from the way you’d talked to him just now. “I’m so happy for you, Baby.”

“Yeah, well, they’re your family now too. If you still wanna get married.”

“Of course I do! I was just... I was scared to lose you so I freaked out.”

Bucky kissed your cheek. “You’re never gonna lose me, Doll. Besides, if anything this all just made me wanna be with you more. All I can think about is making babies with you.”

You laughed. “You would.”

“It’s true. All this just made me realize how bad I wanna have a family with you. I just... I mean our wedding is two months away, would it be so bad if we started trying now?”

You shrugged and he smiled before leaning into kiss you.

“Tell me you don’t want me to put a baby in this pussy and I’ll back off until the wedding,” he whispered into your ear.

“Daddy, I...”

You could feel him growing harder against your ass as he started grinding you into him. Fuck he knew how to get you to that point. You hated how it took pretty much nothing for you to want him to fuck the shit out of you.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered in your ear. “Tell me you wanna have my baby.”

You sighed so deeply because his breath against your year was making you feel fucking feral. “I want it.” It was like you couldn’t even stop yourself from saying it.

“What do you want. Tell Daddy what you want.”

You looked up at him with those big eyes. “I want you to put a baby in me.”

“Yeah? I wanna make you a mommy, Doll,” he said, before putting his metal hand around your neck as he leaned you into him. He helped you pull your legging down until you could kick them off. Then kissed your shoulder as he spread your legs. “You want Daddy to put a baby in this little pussy, Baby?” He asked now that he’d pushed your panties to the side so he could play with your clit.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, leaning back so you could connect your lips to his. He started doing that thing again where his tongue fucked your mouth.

All that plus with the way he was touching you was making you forget all about how embarrassed you felt for accusing him of such a terrible thing. You should know that your daddy would never hurt you like that.

“Gotta teach you a lesson now,” he said. “Don’t you ever accuse me of something like that again. I should fucking spank you.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your pussy feeling all tingly from the way his fingers were rubbing you making you let out a moan. “Daddy!”

“That’s it, Slut. Don’t you ever threaten to take this pussy from me again. It’s mine.” He growled into your ear and it made your stomach tighten especially when he started nibbling on it.

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Good little slut,” he said. “You know better. This is mine.” Bucky’s fingers now dipped into your pussy making you let out a whine.

“Yes, Daddy!” You mewled as he stuffed your pussy with his thick fingers. Metal hand going from your neck to your tits.

“You’re lucky I can’t wait to fuck you or else I’d be punishing you, Doll,” he said as he groped you.

You leaned back so you could kiss him again. Reached between the two of you so you could take hold of his dick through his pants. Enjoying how hard he felt through the denim. “I know, Daddy.”

“You’re so lucky I wanna cum in this pussy instead.” Thats when he tore his hands out of you before forcing you to stand up. Bucky undid his pants, pushing them and his boxers off before pulling you back down.

He didn’t waste any time in sinking you down on his dick. Hands on your ass as he helped you move up and down. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you whimpered. “All yours.”

Bucky grabbed the hem of your top so he could pull it over your head, watching as your tits bounced. “That’s right, Doll. Not gonna pull that shit again.”

You shook your head and then threw it back as you moaned. Bucky pushed you to the side against the couch before getting up so he could climb on top of you.

“Fucking love this juicy pussy,” he said. His metal arm coming to grab at your thigh as he bent your leg over his shoulder.

He thrusted in and out of you, shoving himself inside of you as his dick stretched you out. You tugged at his t-shirt that he hadn’t taken off. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Your head was bent back against the couch as you let out this low moan. “Fuck, Bucky!” Your eyes were watering as you started to feel your orgasm coming to you.

“That’s it, Baby, I know you want it. Want Daddy to cum in your pussy?”

You nodded as he got up so he could hold your throat again because he knew how much you loved it. “God, yes. I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” He groaned. “Gonna cum on Daddy’s dick?” He was all in your face.

You reached up so you could tug on his hair. “Yes! Fuck, please.”

“Good because I’m gonna cum in you. Daddy’s gonna gonna fill you up, Y/N.”

You cried out wrapping your legs around him as you came so hard. Maybe it was from all that bullshit and you almost ruining everything because fuck it felt so damn good. Especially with the way he was fucking you through it.

That was when he got closer to you. His balls slapping against your ass as he started getting really deep into you. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Daddy’s gonna cum in this pussy, Baby. I know that’s what you need, Baby. Need Daddy to keep you pregnant.”

“Uh huh,” you moaned.

“I’m gonna keep getting you pregnant for as long as you can. Make you have so many babies.”

You couldn’t help it as the noises you were making started getting louder. “Yes. Please.”

That’s when his hips stilled as he started to fill you. His seed flooding into your womb for the first time. He put his head into your neck once he started moving them again, trying to make sure he could give you ever last drop.

He laid there on top of you. Breathing all heavy before pressing kisses into your neck again. “Was that our first time without a condom?” He asked.

“Uh huh,” was all you could say. It was like you couldn’t move.

Bucky chuckled seeing you all frozen before yawning and getting off of you. He grabbed you so he could carry you to your room, cradling you in his arms. When he finally laid you down he pulled the comforter over your body, pretty much tucking you in.

He took his shirt off before getting in beside you, “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you replied your brain feeling like it couldn’t think.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. You just made my mind into goo,” you grumbled.

Bucky smiled before kissing your nose. “Good.” He held you around your waist. “So,” he breathed, “what do you think about meeting everyone.”

“How much is everyone?” You asked with a smile, turning to him.

“There’s James. And, he had a son also named James and then he had a son named Kyle. He’s twenty-two.” Bucky laughed.

Your jaw dropped. “Jesus.”

He was still laughing. “I know, right. And he looks just like me. It’s kinda scary.” But, there was this softness in his face. It was different than the one he gave you, but there was almost this pride you’d never seen him have before. “Then there’s Becca. She’s so much like me it’s terrifying. She even has a friend like Steve. It’s awful.”

This time you laughed with him. “Would it be bad if I met them?” You asked.

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been wanting you to, they’ve even been asking, but I just... I didn’t wanna freak you out about being a great grandma.”

You pouted, creasing your brow. “Baby, I know how strange your life is to say the least. I’ve kinda made peace with the idea that there’s going to be random shit popping up. Kinda what I signed up for when I agreed to marry an old man.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped, before he patted your butt. “You’re such a brat,” he said before kissing you. Then he pulled you away. “Wait I didn’t tell you about Noel and Kimmy.”

You laughed and then wrapped your arms around him as he told you about the two youngest kids. God you felt like such an asshole now. Maybe a blowjob later would make it up to him.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x black!reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian Stan x black!reader

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marauderundercover · 4 years ago

Text

This Side of Normal Ch. 10

AO3

Marinette glances around the silent table, willing Jason to say something. Or do something. Or even Dick. She needed one of them to start a conversation, because Adrien hated awkward silences. And if this silence went on much longer, he was definitely going to say something and then she would regret it. Horribly.

“These rolls are purr-fect.” Adrien says, out of nowhere. Marinette lets out a groan, of course he’d skip straight ahead to the cat puns. Of course that’s where his freaking mind was tonight.

“Aren’t they? I’d say Alfred’s cooking is pretty claw-some, myself.” Dick speaks up, grinning at Adrien. Marinette looks at him, wide eyed.

“That’s it. I’ll find a new trapeze partner and a new best friend. Both of you are out of my life.” She deadpans, ignoring Adrien’s offended gasp.

“But Bugaboo, who else would give you a hand with your crazy schemes?” Adrien asks, and Marinette turns to him, narrowing her eyes.

“I swear to god if you take your arm off right now you will never find it again.” She threatens, pointing her fork at him from across the table.

“But Mari, that joke needs the arm. It doesn’t work without it.” He pouts, she rolls her eyes and turns to Damian.

“I apologize for him. He thinks he’s funny.” She says, turning her glance back at Adrien. “He’s wrong.”

“Tt. I’m unbothered by his sense of humor. I have lived with Grayson for eight years. His humor is nothing compared to those horrors.” Damian quips, and Marinette swears his lips almost quirk into a smile. She snorts.

“Guess I made the right choice in throwing Dick to the curb, huh?” She teases, ignoring Dick’s gasp and Adrien’s reassurance to the man. Honestly, who was the adult here?

“It was for the best, Dupain-Cheng.” Damian says and Marinette winces slightly. The only person who called her by her last name (in regular conversation, anyway) was Chloe. And while the girl had long since given up full on bullying her, she still wasn’t Marinette’s best friend in the world.

“You can call me Marinette, my last name is kind of a mouthful.” She says, trying to be nonchalant about it. She’d heard him refer to everyone else as their last name the entire evening. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but him calling her Dupain-Cheng was going to make her uncomfortable in the long run.

“Very well.” He says, and though he doesn’t say her name, she still counts it as a win. A throat clearing catches her attention and she glances at Jason who was glaring at Damian.

“What’s up, Jay?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Nothing Pixie Pop. Just thinking about the time you kicked the ass of that would be mugger.” He says, and Marinette frowns. Mugger? “You know, the one that was obsessed with you?” He clarifies, and she understands. Copycat had been reakumatized during Jason’s stay in Paris. And he had wanted nothing more than a date with Ladybug. Though, she couldn’t understand why he was bringing it up now.

“I am so lost.” She admits, shaking her head at her pseudo-brother. He grins.

“That’s fine, just sharing that you can kick ass with the table. In case someone wants to try something.” He says pointedly. Oh. He definitely caught the heart eyes she sent Damian back in the gym. Can he blame her, though? Her weakness was green eyes. And Damian’s were the greenest.

“I did walk in on you hogtied, Todd. I assumed she was a reputable fighter after that.” Damian says, and Marinette blushes furiously.

“I’m sorry, what happened?” Mr. Wayne asks, his vapid (and fake) smile replaced with a faux look of bewilderment. She briefly wondered if it was exhausting, putting on a constant act, until she remembered how tired she was throughout collège, before she started lycée and decided she didn’t really care. Yeah, acting constantly was tiring. But why did he do it? Jason nudges her lightly and she blinks, focusing back on the conversation.

“Oh, Jason and I sparred. He apparently had forgotten that I use my surroundings to my advantage and that Adrien is always on my side.” She explains, shooting Jason a smug smile. Jason huffs.

“Not always.” He says, and Marinette raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and giving him a challenging look.

“Oh really? Name one time that Adrien took your side instead of mine.” She challenges. She grins as Jason starts to think, obviously wracking his brain.

“Earlier today!” Adrien pipes up, and she immediately turns to him, glaring.

“What?” She asks, confused. What had- oh. Of fucking course. “That doesn’t count!” She protests, narrowing her eyes.

“Why not?” Adrien asks, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. She scoffs.

“Because it wasn’t a fight or argument or anything. It was a joke.” She says.

“Are you talking about the adoption shit, cause that was definitely not a joke. All the kids B adopts definitely have trauma and certain features.” Jason cuts in, and Marinette sighs. Of course he would clue in.

“But- no. No. That was a fluke. A glitch in the matrix, obviously. You literally cannot name a singular other time. And technically, ya big jerk, you didn’t even name this time. Adrien did.” Marinette points out, glaring at Jason.

“I’m sorry, how long have you three known each other?” Mr. Wayne cuts in again, and this time- this time- she sees that some of the confusion on his face is real. But it looks odd, like he wasn’t used to expressing a real emotion. She really needed to remind herself to talk to Jason about this later. She didn’t necessarily want to make it a habit to stick billionaire fathers with asshole tendencies in jail, but she would. She’d do it for her boys. Any day of the week. She hums in thought, adding up the time. The anniversary of Gabriel’s defeat had been a few weeks ago, which meant-

“We’ve known Jason for just over a year.” She says, before glancing at Adrien and grinning. “But I’ve been stuck with this goof for four years.”

“You know you love me.” Adrien says with a wide grin. She rolls her eyes.

“How exactly did you meet Jason?” Mr. Wayne asks, and she kind of wants to throw her fork at him. What was it, interrogate the random kids at dinner night? Though, to be fair, they were random kids in his house. But she refused to like the man until she’d talked to Jason about the potential assholeish tendencies.

“He helped me learn some self defence after I got caught up in an akuma attack.” Marinette lies smoothly. Well, it was technically a half truth. But the Waynes didn’t need to know that she was always caught up in akuma attacks.

“Akuma?” Mr. Wayne asks, and Marinette glances at Jason with a frown. Had he not told his father about anything? Not even the basics?

“Wait, is that what the thing that flooded Paris is called?” Dick asks suddenly and Marinette nearly flinches from the memory. That was one of the akumas that still gave her nightmares. One of the ones that was burned in the back of her eyelids when all she wanted was to sleep. And not think about bloated corpses and dead classmates for one goddamn minute. She lets out a steadying breath, glancing at Jason whose face had changed from annoyance to concern. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. She could talk about akumas. It was the past. Sure, she had refused all of the therapy options her parents gave her and Adrien, but she didn’t need it. She was fine.

“Yeah. Technically, her akumatized name was Siren. But, the general term for those attacks was ‘akuma’.” She says, gripping her fork a little tighter than necessary, grounding herself with Tikki’s reassuring nudges from inside her purse.

“There were more?” Dick asks, his eyes wide. Marinette glances at Jason and raises an eyebrow. Why had he not said anything? He’d been there for an entire month of Hawkmoth’s reign. He’d seen dozens of akuma attacks. Jason shrugs. Thank Jay. Super helpful.

“When you get down to it, there were probably hundreds if not thousands more. Some people, like Siren, were turned into the same akuma several times. Some people became a different akuma when they were akumatized again. I think it just depended on the person or their issue.” Marinette explains, hating how dry her mouth felt all of a sudden. She could talk about this. She could. So why was everything a little too bright? Why was the sound of forks against plates a little too loud?

“Did the Justice League stop it?” Damian asks, though by his tone, he seems to already know the answer. Odd.

“No, the local heroes did. Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Marinette says, ignoring the constricting feeling in her chest.

“Why-” Mr. Wayne starts, but Jason clears his throat. Everyone glances at him, and Marinette is unsurprised to see the flicker of anger in his eyes. Especially after she glances at Adrien and sees how pale he’s gotten. She kicks him lightly under the table to get his attention, frowning at him in a silent question. He nods, slightly. She purses her lips, not believing for a second that he was actually okay. But they could talk later. Away from eager ears.

“I’m sure you remember what Dick said about my phone call from when I first arrived in Paris. Marinette and Adrien dealt with attacks like that interrupting their day to day lives from thirteen to sixteen. I get that you’re not the best at knowing when to drop the damn topic, but I really think you should drop the damn topic.” Jason says, and though he’s smiling, Marinette can see the danger behind it. The warning. ‘Drop it, or I’ll make you’.

“My apologies, it was just so interesting.” Mr. Wayne says and this time Marinette winces at the falseness in his voice. And the smile on his face. God, this man could not have lasted a day in Hawkmoth’s Paris.

---

Finally, finally, dinner was over. After the akuma talk ceased, it was extremely awkward. Mr. Wayne looked like he would rather be anywhere else. And Marinette couldn’t blame him, wanting nothing more than to get back to her hotel room and away from the constant lack of real emotion on the eldest Wayne’s face. It was tiresome, just watching him.

“Thanks again, for having us.” Marinette says, mostly directing her comment to Dick and Alfred. Alfred just nods.

“Of course! Come back any time. Really soon, actually, so we can work more on the trapeze. I can’t lose my new trapeze buddy.” Dick says with a wide smile. Marinette holds back a sigh, nodding instead. She liked Dick, she did. But she’d definitely have to make sure that Mr. Wayne wouldn’t be around. She still wasn’t sure what to think of him.

“You should also spar with me, some time.” Damian speaks up and Marinette blinks in surprise.

“Spar. With...you?” She says, tilting her head in confusion. That came out of nowhere.

“Yes. You took down Todd easily, and I am far superior. You would actually have a challenge if we sparred.” He says. She smirks, and suddenly, with a burst of confidence she didn’t know she had, says:

“Sure thing, Pretty boy.” Before turning and walking straight out the door. The second she’s outside, she drops her head into her hands. “I can’t believe I just said that.” She mumbles under her breath.

“Pretty boy?” Adrien says with a smirk, she glares at him and moves down the front steps.

“Fuck you.” She says, no real venom in her voice. The boy knew how she got around crushes. He’d seen it firsthand. With him. With Luka. With Kagami. With the girl with bright green eyes who worked at the coffee shop across the street from the bakery. She was an absolute disaster. He was worse, but still. He wasn’t the one with the quickly developing crush on the youngest Wayne.

“Pretty boy?” Jason asks, a scowl on his face as he catches up to the two.

“Not another word, Jason.” She scowls at him, crossing her arms defiantly. He holds his hands up in surrender.

“Sure.” He says. Her mind rushes suddenly to her previous thought. Youngest Wayne. Damian Wayne. Hadn’t Lila- she snorts, before erupting into uncontrollable laughter, ignoring the worried looks from Adrien.

“I- oh my god, Jay.” She manages to say, straightening up and following Jason to the car he was borrowing to drive them back to the hotel.

“I’m completely lost.” He says.

“Join the club.” Adrien adds, and Marinette just laughs again.

“Your little brother is Damian Wayne.” She says, as if it should be obvious. Jason doesn’t get it, and neither does Adrien. But after a moment-

“Oh my god, that’s hilarious!” Adrien cries, letting out a chuckle. Jason huffs as the trio get into the car.

“Care to share with the class?” He asks, and Marinette snorts.

“Absolutely not, I dislike the majority of those people.” She says, referring to the group who was hopefully already in their rooms and not in the lobby of the hotel. “Now it’s funny that your brother is Damian Wayne because Lila made us come to Gotham instead of New York and London, because she’s dating him.” She explains and Jason scoffs.

“Yeah right.”

“Obviously she’s not actually dating him, Jay. But it’s freaking hilarious that she thinks she’s gonna get away with it. He definitely goes to Gotham Academy, and people are definitely going to call her out.” She says, not even trying to hide the absolute glee she’s feeling. If there was ever a time for all of Lila’s lies to come crashing down around her, now would be good. When she can’t just run away and claim Marinette set it up. If people Marinette didn’t even know called Lila out, well, that would be irrefutable evidence, right?

“Her regime is gonna topple and I’m gonna take you guys out for ice cream to celebrate.” Jason declares and Marinette laughs again. She was so against the idea of Gotham originally, but now, with Jason at their sides again, she’d decided that it wasn’t so bad. Suddenly remembering what had been on her mind most of the night, she turns to Jason.

“Jay, I have a serious question. And I know it’s a little hard to talk about but just know that we’re here for you to support you, and that we’ll figure out a way to make sure you and your brothers are safe and-”

“Whoa, Pix, calm down kiddo. You’re rambling again.” He says gently, furrowing his eyebrows. He pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to put his full attention on the two. “What’s bothering you?” He asks.

“Is Mr. Wayne abusive?” She asks and Jason blinks. “I saw how hesitant you were to call him your father, and you were tense around him a lot of the night. And I don’t think the man had one legitimate expression all night. He was acting the whole time.” Marinette says, looking at him worriedly. “Look, Jay, I don’t necessarily want to make a habit of putting billionaires in jail, but I’d do it for you.”

“Is he- you would-” Jason stops and lets out a breath, obviously trying to compose himself. “No, kiddo, he’s not.” He finally says. Marinette frowns.

“Really?” She asks, and he sighs.

“Yeah, look. Our relationship has been...rough, for a couple years. We had a sort of falling out when I was a teenager and I stopped talking to him for several years. We reconnected a while ago, but it’s still rocky at times. I don’t usually call him dad or father or anything. He’s just Bruce, or B, to me.” Jason explains and Marinette nods, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“I was worried, Jay.” She admits, and Jason grins at her before pulling away from the curb again.

“I didn’t even catch on.” Adrien says with a frown. Marinette rolls her eyes, smiling at him with fondness.

“Course you didn’t Kitty. Reading people isn’t really your strong suit.” She says with a small smile. He huffs, but nods in agreement.

“True.” He says and Marinette laughs. She could officially take Bruce Wayne off her ‘threat to be dealt with immediately’ list and move him to ‘possible future annoyance’ list. A big improvement for the man, and it would mean she wouldn’t be as tense around him the next time she saw him.

Tag list: @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat @queenz-z @daminette-56

#daminette #maribat #maribat fanfiction #ao3fic #platonic jasonette #maribat platonic adrienette #platonic maribat adrienette #damian x marinette #maribat damian wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat jason todd #maribat dick grayson #This Side of Normal

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auramindedd · 4 years ago

Text

I Like You - SMAU*

Part 10

CorpseHusband x FemReader - Y/N

warnings: cussing

notes: uhhh,, idk where to take this series, but ima just go w the flow igs 😭 also,, i completely give up on adding the small details like the likes, comments, replies, and the times on tweets so i’m super sorry if it bothers you lmao

it’s also pretty long,, mostly writing rather than the smau, butttt i really like this one 🥺

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“When’s Rae gonna be home?” Corpse asks, playing with his hands.

“She’ll be home tonight, I just don’t know at what time. Why?”

“Uh... I- I just... I don’t know? I’m kind of nervous?”

“Corpse, Rae is your friend. But if you don’t feel comfortable, I can get a hotel room for you not too far away from here?” You suggest, 100% willing to pay for a hotel room for him if he wouldn’t feel comfortable being here with Rae here.

“I wanna stay here- with you... If that’s okay with you, of course.” There’s a slight blush on his face, it makes you smile a bit.

“Yes, I want you to stay here, too. You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” You grab his plate, stacking his on top of yours, taking them to the sink.

“No, no. I can be on the couch tonight, I don’t sleep anyway.”

“Corpse, I’m not gonna have you sleep on that uncomfortable ass couch. Come on, we’ll figure something out. Wanna watch a movie?” He nods his head. You grab his hand, or more so his fingers, leading him to your room.

You turn the lights off, turning your fairy lights on instead. You tell Corpse to get comfortable, fluffing pillows for him, letting him lay back.

You know Corpse would be a bit anxious and nervous, not something you’d ever blame him for. You’re surprised you’re not being awkward or nervous. You’ve been trying your best to keep Corpse comfortable here, making sure he isn’t getting too nervous.

“Can we watch High School Musical? I have the stupid ass songs stuck in my head, childish me is coming...” You ask, not wanting to torture him with such a movie. Well, it’s not a bad movie, but you’d understand if anyone’d want to shoot themselves in the head while watching.

“Of course, baby.” You can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach from the nickname. You sit closer to the TV, wanting Corpse to be comfortable rather than you.

Suddenly, you feel a hand around your waist. Corpse pulls you to him, letting you lay next to him. He looks at you, smiling. You smile back.

“Corpse, can I ask you a question?” He hums, indicating for you to go on. “That one time, you didn’t answer me for two days... You told me it had been because I was too ‘pretty.’ I didn’t believe you, and I still don’t. Why didn’t you answer me, like for real?” You don’t ask this in a bad way either, you’re just genuinely curious.

“I- uh... I’m going to be 100% honest, Y/N, but I don’t wanna scare you away.” He says cautiously, hesitating to go on.

“Corpse, you could never. I’m too attached already.” He chuckles, letting out a sigh.

“I like you. Like, like like you... I liked you before even seeing your face, but after, wow.” Silence. Deafening silence. But honestly, you can hear your fucking smile. You don’t think you’ve ever smiled so hard in your life. “Y/N, baby, say something, please.”

“Corpse,” You look up at him, probably scaring him with your smile. “I like you, too. Like, like like you.” He chuckles, but it’s more of a chuckle of relief. If that’s a thing?

He pulls you close to him, letting your head rest on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat, his breathing, trying to match yours with his. You slowly drift off, your eyelids getting too heavy to keep open.

———

You wake up in Corpse’s arms. He’s gently stroking your side, looking down at you with a small smile.

“Good morning,” His voice is raspier and deeper than it already is. You didn’t know that was possible.

“Good morning,” You say, yawning softly. You bury your face deeper into his chest, snuggling closer to him.

“So fucking cute.” He mumbles, softly chuckling.

After a while of just laying there in Corpse’s arms, you decide to check social media and your messages. Already, Twitter is going crazy, assuming quickly that you and Corpse are dating. It’s not anything you didn’t expect, but it’d be nice if people didn’t jump to conclusions.

You decide to tweet a good morning, feeling good about today. And sadly, very unfortunately, you decide to text back the group chat - something you’ve been dreading to do.

Corpse is there, reading the messages, but you don’t mind.

You kind of, accidentally, and very stupidly put yourself out, but it’s all good, nobody said anything besides Brooke. You all have a drunk Among Us lobby to get to.

After getting ready, Corpse getting his laptop and mic ready in another room, you join the Discord call. Corpse joins quickly after. Surprisingly, nobody says anything about you two being in the same apartment while greeting each other. You don’t doubt that someone will say something soon.

“Let’s all take a drink - to Corpse and Y/N holding hands!” Alex exclaims, clinking his glass on his mic. The rest cheer, pretending to clink their glasses as well. You sigh and laugh a bit, but nonetheless, you’re gulping down a glass of champagne.

“Alex,” You say, catching his attention.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you!”

“Hey, hey, hey. No fucking.” Karl says, and you can hear him slap his hand to his mouth after realizing what he just said. The lobby bursts into fits of laughter, but the one you’re trying to listen for, Corpse’s. It’s silent on his end.

“Karl, how much have you had to drink?” Dream asks, slurring his words. Didn’t this game just start?

“I had like 3 beers?”

“You fucking lightweight.” You tease. “Dream, you’ve been drinking too...”

“Yeah, we might’ve pregamed an Among Us game.” He admits shamefully.

“Didn’t expect less from you two,” Rae says, adding a disappointing tone to her voice for effect. She starts the game, despite the sad protests from Karl and Dream.

Crewmate.

You pout, wanting so badly to be Imposter. You’re a good liar to say the least, and people easily fall for your sweet, innocent voice. It’s funny, pathetic even, which is why you want at least one good Imposter round.

“Whaddup, baby,” Corpse greets you in Nav. Dream follows behind him, Karl coming in shortly after.

“Hey, my beautiful alcoholics!” You greet cheerfully, earning groans from them both. Oh, how fun it’s going to be teasing them.

“At least she called us beautiful.” Karl says, walking out of Nav with Dream, leaving you and Corpse alone again. You get back to doing your task, connecting the ship with the dotted lines and whatnot.

“Am I beautiful?” You can hear the pout in his voice, it’s cute.

“Gorgeous, stunning even.” You say before walking out of Nav, smiling to yourself.

This round is pretty uneventful, along with the next few. But after about five rounds, you’re all incredibly drunk after playing some drinking games.

“No balls,” Rae dares. You’re Imposter this round, and Rae’s made you her personal hitman. She’s telling you to kill Karl, but he’s innocently doing his tasks.

“I have three actually.” You defend yourself, not making any sense at all.

“Three what?” Sykkuno comes in.

“Three balls,” Rae answers.

“Okayyy then...” Sykkuno drawls, leaving you two alone. Corpse comes along, the second Imposter. Oh, how convenient.

“Hey, Corpseee,” You greet, making it so fucking obvious.

“Oh my God!” Rae exclaims. You sigh, facepalming yourself. “Corpse kill Karl, Y/N kill Sykkuno.”

“Woah, since when did we become your hitmen?” Corpse backs his astronaut up.

“I’m not killing Syk!” You whisper-yell.

“Okay, then you kill Karl and Corpse can kill Sykkuno.” You can hear her shrugging as if it’s no big deal, but literally, Karl and Sykkuno are the sweetest people to you.

“No, I’m not doing it, Rae...” Corpse still hasn’t said anything. He’s watching you and Rae go back and forth, whisper-yelling even though anyone would be able to hear you.

“I’ll call you two out.”

“You’d never,”

“The emergency meeting button is looking real sexy right now.” Ugh, fuck the stupid smirk you can just hear in her voice.

“Fine, we’ll do it.” Corpse says. He goes and kills Sykkuno. You hesitate killing Karl, but he already watched Corpse kill Sykkuno so, unfortunately, you have to.

You and Corpse run away, leaving Rae to report the bodies.

After you and Corpse vouching for each other the whole round, nobody putting sus on you two because well, you sound so innocent and sweet even while being shitface drunk, you two win, earning groans from everyone in the lobby except from Rae.

“To be fucking fair, Rae had me and Corpse be her hitmen sooo, you can blame her if you died.” The lobby starts yelling playfully at Rae.

———

After finally finishing streaming, Corpse comes into your room, plopping down onto your bed.

“Gosh, I’m gonna have the worst fucking hangover tomorrow.” He murmurs into your pillow, hugging it close to him. You jump onto the bed, sitting next to him, playing with his hair. He doesn’t mind, or you don’t think he does.

“It was fun,” You say, smiling to yourself. You love spending time with your friends. You can’t imagine how much fun it’d be if all of you got together in real life.

“It was,” Corpse yawns, looking up at you, smiling as you keep playing with his hair. He gets up, settling himself into your bed again, pulling you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around him, snuggling yourself closer to him.

“We should probably eat something... And get ourselves some water.” You say, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover is going to be a bitch.

“I don’t wanna let go of you.” Corpse whines. You try getting up, but he almost throws a fucking tantrum. Quickly, you get out of his arms, running out of your room, giggling like a fucking maniac.

“Y/N! Please!” He shouts softly, trying not to wake Rae. He runs after you, following you into the kitchen. You run to the other side of the counter. He goes left, you go right - vice versa.

“Corpse, we need food and water.” You say, trying to grab pans out of the cupboards while he’s trying to get you. You can’t help yourself from giggling. Rae will kill you if you two wake her up.

“I wanna hold you,” Corpse pouts. Gosh, he’s going to be the death of you.

“In a sec, I can make us something real quick.” Drunk Corpse obviously equals Clingy Corpse.

“Fine,” He sighs dramatically, sitting on a stool. You grab pans from underneath the cupboards, pulling out some bread and cheese. Grilled cheese is easiest and it’ll take the least amount of time.

As you’re plopping bread into the toaster, Corpse snakes his arms around your waist, snuggling his face into your neck. There’s the slightest stubble, making you giggle.

“Corpse, I can’t cook with you on me.”

“Yes you can, I’ll help.” So stubborn...

You take the bread out of the toaster before it gets too toasted, putting it on the buttered pan.

It was a mission to finish the food to say the least. Corpse demands you eat in your room that way he can hold you. You put on The Promised Neverland, watching the TV as Corpse watches you. But honestly, you don’t mind.

You two fall asleep in each other’s arms again. And you don’t think you’d ever be able to fall asleep without being in his arms again.

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Taglist - comment or message me to be added.

Sorry for not updating, I have to go through a bunch of posts. I’ll update in the next post.

* if you’re name is in bold, i couldn’t tag you. *

@letsloveimagines @liljennyx3 @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @blackheartemojivibes @lo-manburg @walkingonchairs @strawberrydonkey @tayloryorkscurls @bluepancakemix @prettylittlealiengirl @yeetmymood @victoria-a567 @loraleiix @moonlightsimp @jades-bullshit @teenloves @greenie-of-shield @fanworrior @thefvckvp @bigdaddysatan @mirahg @rosy-feels @arossebyanyothername @kitsamii @lollipop0605 @happyyyandcrazyyy @maraudingmarauder @stickystrawberrysyrup @majasophieanna @ilovejjmaybank @starstruckllamapuppy @owl-llie @thurstyforholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @in-fucking-deed @a-dot-dev @rjsmochii @boiled-onionrings @neenieweenie @vvenusblue @bellomi-clarke @smiithys @londonskies @16marie @leah-0207 @officiallyunofficialperson @wineandionysus @fanficlover99

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Tags - ignore::

#corpse #corpse fic #corpse husband #corpse husband fic #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse husband smau #corpse husband social media au #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband scenarios #smau #social media au #imagine #among us #cute

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shyficwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Temporary Home: Chapter 14

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: The guardians keep trying to include you in various activities to keep your mind off what's troubling you since you won't talk about it. However, one of these activities turns out to have a, shall we say... slightly less than desired outcome.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @quillsandtypos, @theambracer88, @mcugiggles, @marvelouslyfluffy and all the anons who participated in my questionnaire post! As you probably guessed, I'll be using the answers (and any future ones, if anyone else still wants to play) to complete some fluffy scenes in the story! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 23 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4,683

Rocket, though he finally had a way to repair the device, had decided to wait a bit before actually doing so. Hell, he had waited this long, certain that his smuggling had been in vain once he found one of the parts had broken on... ahem, "departure," so what was another day or two? It was obvious they were going to be here awhile anyway, so he wasn't too rushed.

One might wonder, how was Rocket able to smuggle anything if SHIELD had searched him, already having found and confiscated contraband he had hidden in his "back pocket?"

Well, Rocket wasn't an idiot. He knew of other ways to smuggle goods on his person. Or, in his person, rather. That being said, maybe to say he wasn't an idiot might be giving him a bit too much credit... Swallowing the pieces of a small data pad might not have been exactly the safest thing to do, though he had given himself a pat on the back for rightfully assuming the Terran's wouldn't think to put him through a body scanner.

He had been damned lucky that nothing had gotten lodged or had punctured any of his innards on the way through, but hey, it worked, didn't it?

Well, mostly.

As said, a part had broken on "departure," which he of course blamed on Gamora and Mantis for rushing him in the bathroom that first day. If that bug-eyed chick didn't have such a tiny bladder then he could have allowed for a more "graceful landing."

No matter, he now had a way to fix it thanks to you. This had admittedly softened his attitude towards you the tiniest bit, though he wasn't going to admit it, nor was he going to completely let his guard down. Use of your workshop was probably just another bribe to win his favor, after all. Just like the bed. He was definitely going to take advantage of it, don't get him wrong. He wasn't just not going to use the tools available to him. Just like he wasn't going to just not sleep in the bed you built him. It was better than sleeping in the crib, though he had been grateful the crib had been left in the room when you left the bed. He had been hiding the pieces of the smuggled device under the crib's mattress -the only good use he saw for it, other than the fact that Groot actually slept pretty well in it- because boy, if the others had found out he had smuggled that in, they would have been pissed. Hence, why he wasn't in too big a hurry to fix it just yet.

Perhaps it couldn't hurt to maybe fix that broken stool in the shed for you, though. Just for a warm up, not because he thought he owed you anything, of course.

***

The evening of the check-in you had found yourself with nothing to do and back in the thoughts that had plagued you since the couple came, and you once again considered pouring yourself a glass or two of whiskey.

Yondu had been leaning against the counter enjoying a snack when he saw you retrieve the bottle from the fridge. Remembering the previous night he raised an eyebrow at you. The last thing he wanted was to witness a repeat, but thought he'd still keep an eye on you. Cut you off again before/if you started to look a little too "weepy." He had doubts that you even remembered what you'd done the previous night, and this was confirmed when he made a lighthearted comment about, "Ya goin' to take it easy tonight, or will I be needin' to cut you off again?" and you raised an eyebrow at him before saying, "What? You didn'- Oh right- I think I do remember you taking my drink now that you mention it," as you set the bottle on the table and went to retrieve a glass from the cupboard.

You now sported a slight blush and, pausing your actions, asked, "I um, didn't say or do anything embarrassing to have warranted that, did I?"

Yondu looked you right in the eye, and lied. "Nope. It was just clear ya had a bit much. Figured I'd save yer wimpy Terran liver." He laughed at your slight pout and added, "Ya just whined at me fer takin' yer drink and then fell asleep. Nuttin' too excitin'."

Yondu could see the relief on your face and it solidified his lack of regret of not telling you. Sure, he might have wanted to crack the mystery to see why you were the way you were, but not like that. He hadn't expected the previous night's display, and if anything, it made him feel like he should back off. Yes, it prompted more burning questions, but even he knew there were some things you just didn't pry into.

Around that time Peter and Kraglin came into the kitchen, messing about and horse-playing. You considered telling them to break it up, but then decided you didn't actually care enough as long as they weren't about to break anything... or anyone. You were about to make your standard polite offer of a drink when suddenly a rip was heard and Peter whined out, "Aw man! You ripped my favorite shirt!"

Sure enough, their rough-housing had managed to rip the seam along the left-shoulder of Peter's dark blue shirt, leaving a sizable hole of a couple inches long that revealed another white shirt underneath.

You rolled your eyes and told him where he could find the sewing kit.

Peter looked at you sheepishly and said, "I don't know how to sew."

You sighed and said, "I guess I'm not doing anything..." and you began to walk towards him and the exit of the kitchen, abandoning the bottle of whiskey on the table without having poured a drink.

Peter took off his ripped shirt and in a surprised voice said, "Oh!- Thanks-" starting to hand you the shirt as you walked past.

You didn't take the shirt, just looked at him as a laugh escaped your throat. "I didn't say I'd do it for you. I meant I'll teach you." With that you cocked your head towards the door and headed out towards the sitting room.

As you walked away you shook your head and muttered something Peter couldn't hear but assumed was an insult as he blushed both from embarrassment at his mistake and from hearing Yondu and Kraglin now laughing at him. He wordlessly followed, not wishing to make more of a fool of himself.

Watching Peter leave, inspiration struck Yondu. It might be overstepping, and might have been a long shot, but it was worth a try. He nudged Kraglin in the arm to get his attention. "Ya remember last night? How things got a little too..." he searched for the right word.

Kraglin finished for him, "Sad? Yeah. I remember." He caught sight of the bottle on the table. "She back at it tonight?" He and Yondu hadn't discussed what happened when he had returned to the kitchen after walking you to your room. It had gone unsaid that you were in a bad way.

"She was gonna," Yondu answered, "but then you two came in and gave her something to distract herself. Might not hurt to keep doing that for a bit."

"Ya wanna keep her busy?" Kraglin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Better than watchin' her drown herself in a bottle," Yondu replied flippantly with a shrug, but Kraglin could see through his blasé attitude.

He was slightly surprised, but not completely opposed to Yondu's suggestion. You had been drinking a lot the past few days. It didn't take a genius to see that something was obviously wrong, and he knew better that drinking like that only made sad feelings worse. If this had been the Eclector, and you part of the crew, he or Yondu would have cut you off well before now once they saw the pit you were digging. You just don't let sad people drink themselves into a stupor. It's bad form. But this wasn't the ship, and you weren't crew, and they couldn't stop you. They were in your house. They've barely known you for three weeks. He knew they couldn't just order you around, but if a little bit of distraction kept him from seeing you looking that sad again and kept you from hiding in the bottom of a bottle, he was for it.

Yondu spoke again, more or less repeating Kraglin's thoughts back at him. "I know we're on her turf, but someone's gotta do somethin'. It's bad form to just let h- to just to let a person drown like that. She needs to get her mind off what's been troubling her."

Kraglin examined the former captain's features. There was something else there. An emotion behind his eyes the first mate was familiar with after years of faithful service. Cap'n might not always be the best at admitting his softer feelings, but Kraglin knew. He could see it.

It was a look similar to the one he wore after he finished telling Rocket just how alike they were, right before they went to fight Ego. It was the same look in his eyes he had shortly after Peter came aboard the Eclector as a boy and it was decided he wasn't going to be delivered to Ego. One Kraglin even thought he recognized being on the receiving end of when he was a younger lad on the crew.

Kraglin smiled, a soft mix of understanding and sadness. "Sir," he said gently.

Yondu grunted in response and glanced at him.

"First, I do agree with ya, we should help keep her mind off it, but I just gotta say this too." He sighed before continuing. He knew Yondu wasn't going to like what he was about to say, but they were alone now, so he felt safe to say it. He knew if he said this in front of anyone else it'd a a surefire way to put Yondu dangerously close to whistling territory. "We can't be getting too attached, now."

Yondu glared at him. "Who said anythin' about-"

"Sir, all respect and all, but I think I can say I know ya better than anyone else here." Kraglin said, having cut Yondu off with a slight chuckle. "I can see it, I can tell when you're getting attached." His tone got slightly more serious, more comforting. "I don't think it'll be good for ya to get too attached, sir. We'll be leaving here eventually, and we know she ain't gonna be coming with us."

Yondu set his mouth in a firm line and stared Kraglin down hard but didn't say anything. He knew his first mate was right, but that didn't mean he had to admit it. Finally he answered with, "I ain't gettin' attached to nuttin' or nobody."

Kraglin sighed. If he knew anything else it was that Yondu could also be stubborn as hell. If he wanted to live in denial, well there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. "Alright, sir," he said with a shake of his head. "I believe ya." He didn't, and his tone betrayed that, earning him a narrowed eyed look from Yondu, but they dropped the conversation, at least for now.

***

Showing Peter how to sew went fairly smoothly. He seemed to grasp the concept well enough, watching you sew the first third of the tear - not the easiest task with your brace on- and then repeating what you had shown him on the rest himself. He finished soon enough and thanked you before leaving the table.

However, almost immediately after that Kraglin showed up with something ripped and asked if you could teach him too. You sighed, and mildly scolded him about how come he couldn't have asked while you were showing Peter, but you agreed regardless. Again, it wasn't exactly the easiest task considering you only had a limited range of motion to move your arm, but you managed. After he finally seemed to get it (he asked a lot of questions, even if he understood, assuming it'd be helpful to keep you occupied for longer) you noticed it had gotten dark out, and you were tired anyway, and so when it looked like he had a handle on it you decided to just go to bed.

***

The next day it seemed like people just kept asking you to do things. Not like they were ordering you around, but more like asking you to do things with them, which they hadn't often done.

It wasn't all bad, but you had the feeling it wasn't just a coincidence that they were seemingly trying to keep you engaged in various tasks and activities after Maria had informed you that one of them had expressed concerns about your well-being. You didn't know if they were now acting on their own or if Fury or Agent Hill had suggested it, but either way you figured you'd just roll with it. If you made an effort maybe they'd be happy and drop it.

That morning, before you realized what was going on, Mantis came to you with a book on plants and asked you to help her identify different plants around the property. You had almost said no, perhaps another time, but then you saw the expectant look on her happy face and decided you had time to kill anyway, so what could it hurt?

It was about when you were asked by Mantis and Drax to join the others for a game of UNO that you started to suspect what was going on.

Before this, Peter had kept coming up to you wanting to show you funny videos he found, having recently discovered the YouTube app on the TV; Yondu had come to you with an archery book and tried making small-talk asking about Terran types of archery; and Gamora and Kraglin asked you to help ref while everyone sparred.

You had agreed to reffing, feeling a little better than you had been all those days you had refused and now therefore not seeing any reason not to.

It was a slight bummer though, needing to sit on the sidelines and watching others train, but you supposed watching them to see if they knew any cool 'space moves' couldn't hurt. Plus, watching how the raccoon was able to hold his own against human-sized opponents was always interesting. Groot sat with you, not being permitted to spar with the others (except for when Rocket would decide to pretend spar with him, just to make him happy) and he was adorable as he played with the grass, so it wasn't all bad.

After that everyone else was pretty much tired, but Groot came up to you with the car you had given him, holding it above his head. You raised an eyebrow and looked to Peter, who informed you that the little guy wanted you to push him on it. You did, because how could you possibly say no to that?

What was cute to Peter, however, was the fact that no one had prompted Groot to do that. He just genuinely wanted you to play with him.

After a while of playing with Groot is when Mantis and Drax had come to you about playing UNO. Now you were getting a hint of what they were doing, but you agreed to play a few games with them anyway. You even caught yourself actually starting to have fun.

Around suppertime Peter came up to you, asking if you could teach him how to cook something. He talked about how he thought it'd be fun to learn to cook more things from his home world, and also reminded you how you did say several times that he could 'help you cook later.'

You sighed and after some more prodding from Peter you finally agreed, asking him what he might like to learn how to cook.

Peter looked like a deer in the headlights before admitting that he didn't actually know. He didn't remember a whole lot of different Terran foods from when he was a kid, and he was now drawing a blank.

You nodded towards the kitchen and told him the two of you would figure it out.

After looking for a bit you decided on a vegetable stew, mostly because this had been unexpected and you hadn't pulled any meat from the freezer to thaw.

Peter was surprisingly not bad at it. He handled the knife safely, he cut the vegetables evenly, and he listened as you told him what to do and when. You wondered if he had some experience cooking before, but you didn't ask.

After dinner Gamora wouldn't take no for an answer on helping with the dishes, of course using your injury as an excuse. You sighed, but allowed it, agreeing to dry while she washed, still under the impression that if you just indulged them for a bit they'd eventually stop and start leaving you along again.

Just as you finished Peter came to the two of you asking if you wanted to see a new movie he found on Netflix.

Figuring it wouldn't hurt to make an effort, you agreed to watching a movie with them and followed into the sitting room, wondering what film he had picked out.

Turned out, he had chosen a horror movie. Candy Man.

You sighed. Obviously you weren't completely immune to jump scares, but you didn't really mind horror movies. You could even go as far to say that you enjoyed most of them. However, you were concerned about Mantis, who you could see sitting happily on the rug in front of the couch next to Rocket as you entered the room.

"Are you sure this movie is appropriate for everyone?" you ask Peter.

"What? You scARed?" Rocket taunted with a smirk, and it was then that you saw Groot on the rug as well, having been sitting in Rocket's lap.

You roll your eyes and explain that your concerns were for the wooden child and Mantis, as your time spent with them hadn't made you very confident that they would recieve a scary movie well. "I'm more concerned the movie's gonna give them nightmares," you explained as you took a seat at the end of the couch.

Gamora seemed to agree with you, but the two of you were outvoted. Rocket just rolled his eyes and snarked that he bet you were scared, and Mantis assured excitedly that she could watch it. Groot, even though you couldn't understand him, also seemed adamant. You had a feeling they didn't really know what they were getting into, but combined with the fact that Mantis was an adult, and Groot wasn't your child, and Peter was doing his best to convince you and Gamora that everything would be fine, you eventually gave in, stating, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. She better not crawl into my bed tonight. I'll send her your way."

Peter just laughed and shook his head, not taking you seriously, before turning out the lights and taking a seat next to Gamora at the other end of the couch. Kraglin took the last available seat between you and Peter and Rocket smarted off again.

"If you're gonna get scared maybe Kraglin will hold your hand!" he laughed as Peter turned on the film.

You rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at Kraglin to give the rodent any satisfaction that he might have succeeded in embarrassing you. This, Kraglin was grateful for, because he was sort of an easy blusher, and he didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He just gave Rocket an unamused look, but he was also grateful the lights had been dimmed so that Yondu couldn't see him blushing and then tease him for it. Whether or not the former Ravager captain would actually believe Kraglin might have managed to develop feelings for you wouldn't matter. That fact that Kraglin had just told Yondu the previous night that he shouldn't be getting attached would be enough for him to jump on it and tease the hell out of him purely out of spite.

Despite the movie being old, it was still relatively new to you. You had heard about it, thought you remembered seeing a commercial or maybe a clip or two of it over the years, but this had been your first time actually watching it.

It was about halfway though and nothing terribly scary had happened yet. There was the flashback scene of a little boy having been mutilated that made you cringe, as any show that featured little kids being harmed always hit a sore spot, but it didn't really show much more than a bloody bathroom.

You were starting to think it probably wasn't going to be any real scary scenes, but then Candyman started to call the college lady's name, and it actually made you fight a shiver. You didn't know why, but creepy sounds were one of the few things from a film that could actually strike fear in your heart. Thankfully it didn't last long. You weren't looking forward to being teased for jumping or shivering at a movie that wasn't really even that scary.

At least it would mean that Mantis would be unlikely to crawl into your bed scared tonigh-

Candyman just shoved his hook through the college lady's medicine cabinet.

Half of everyone jumped, including you. Among those startled was Kraglin, and he shot you a glance that you purposely didn't return, not wanting to answer to any cocky smiles or teases accusing you of being scared.

A shot came on the screen centering on the baby Candyman took and you tensed, worried he was going to kill it, but you were relieved to see that he only let it suckle on his finger.

Kraglin felt you tense and then relax beside him, and he frowned, remembering the other night. He considered asking if you were alright, but then thought better of it and held his tongue, instead watching on as a scene played where the lady was now stuck in a mental hospital, having been believed to have killed her best friend and said baby from the previous scene.

Yondu didn't think he liked this movie, but he continued to watch in silence. He didn't want to see kids being hurt, and he had also tensed at the previous scene. Like you, he was sure that the bad guy was about to kill the baby. However, as he was sitting in his usual spot in the armchair, his tension went unnoticed.

Mantis let out a short scream when the lady summoned Candyman and he killed the psychiatrist. You sighed, realizing this wasn't looking good for her staying in her own bed tonight. Little did Peter know, you hadn't been kidding. If she tries to crawl in with you, you're sending her right to him, seeing as it would be his fault.

The lady was now exploring Candyman's lair, and you started to get a little tense at the creepy sounds of his breathing, and you mentally cursed whoever mixed the sound for this movie.

You got even more tense and fidgety when he opened his robe to reveal a ribcage full of bees. You only hoped no one noticed to tease you for it. Body horror was another thing that never failed to make you shudder.

Eventually the movie started to come to a close, a scene played where the lady's jerk ex-fiancé was having flashbacks to how good he had it with her now that she was dead, and you thought it was just going to end on a sad note.

That is, until he said her name, Helen, five times in the mirror (just like Candyman) and she came back and killed him with the Candyman's hook. Her sudden appearance made you startle slightly, and you heard more squeals from Mantis. You sighed again. Yep, she was definitely not going to sleep tonight.

The movie was finally over and Peter got up to turn on the lights. He turned to see you giving him a glare and he smiled. "What? Was it too scary for you?" he jeered.

You just pointed down to Groot. He had his head buried in Rocket's chest and was softly whimpering. "I told you that movie wasn't for kids."

Rocket scoffed at you and told you he would be fine, then turned it on you, saying how he felt you jump at least three times from where he was sitting.

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, turning to Peter and this time gesturing to Mantis, who still looked a bit shaken. "I meant what I said. She tries to crawl in bed with me, I'm sending her to you," you say, leaving to go to go get ready for bed, both because it was now late, and to avoid any inevitable further teasing from Rocket.

The others seemed to have much the same idea about bedtime, and a few of them followed you up the stairs.

You let Mantis shower first, hopeful that if you went after her that she might hopefully be asleep by the time you got out. However, when you finished your own shower, Peter had thought it'd be funny to jump-scare you as you exited the bathroom, grabbing your shoulders and shouting, "CANDYMAN'S GOTCHA!" which resulted in you jumping a mile with a noise you'd deny was a shriek before you turned to punch him in the arm scolding, "Damn you!"

He, along with Rocket, only responded by laughing their asses off at you. You thought you could also hear Drax's own booming laughter down the hall from his room, and you caught a glimpse of Yondu and Kraglin sharing amused glances and snickering from their shared room.

Your face getting warm at the fact that he had actually managed to get you pretty good, you then just storm off to your room, ignoring Rocket's teases that he bet that you'd be the one crawling into Mantis's bed tonight.

You shut the bedroom door behind you to see Mantis awake and clutching her bear for dear life. Whether she was just already awake due to nerves or you had woken her with your startled cry, you didn't know, but you flicked on your desk lamp for her, turned out your overhead light and crawled into bed without a word.

Sometime later, long enough for you to have drifted off into a decently sound enough sleep to be dreaming, you were startled awake by someone crawling into your bed.

Guess who. That's right. Mantis.

You groaned and turned to see she had already crawled halfway into your bed before you stopped her by rousing. "Mantis," you groaned, pointing towards the door, "go climb into Peter's bed. He's the one that chose the movie."

Mantis tucked her chin sheepishly and admitted she had already tried that, but his and Gamora's door had been locked.

You stared at the ceiling and sighed. Clever bastard.

You made a mental note to squirt lemon juice in his coffee in the morning before letting out another groan. "Ugh, fine. But just this once," you allowed, ignoring the fact that this would actually technically be the second time. You were also not actually quite as salty as you let on. If anything, you should maybe thank her for waking you from a bad dream involving the Candyman's ribcage full of bees, but you weren't going to tell her that.

She smiled gratefully and thanked you as she snuggled in.

You sighed quietly and Mantis fell asleep quickly. At least she didn't snore.

You spent the next bit before you fell asleep yourself contemplating different ways that you might be able to annoy Peter for sufficient payback.

#gotg #gotg fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu lives #scary movies #candyman #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #rocket racoon and groot #mantis #peter quill #starlord

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