#shouldn’t have been put to the test in the first place with such a thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonstruckme · 1 year

Note

hi mae!! i was wondering if you’d write poly!marauders x reader with some angst? maybe they’ve had an argument (they say something really hurtful to her) and reader wants to be left alone and they assume that she wants to break up w them? maybe some begging/pleading on their side pls

totally okay if you don’t want to write this<3 have a lovely day ml 🫶🏽

Hi sweetheart! Thanks for requesting and hope you're having a lovely day too :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

It had started laughably small. Tensions had to have been high for awhile, you must just not have been able to see it, because you were all so ready to go off. Sirius had remarked that you’d left the living room a mess. You’d shot back that if he’d offered to make dinner, you might’ve had time to tidy. It had devolved into an argument about why you were so busy in the first place, even though he knew you’d been absolutely mobbed at work lately. You’d been getting more and more piled onto your plate, and you weren’t sure whether the higher-ups were testing you to see about giving you a promotion (or, Merlin forbid, firing you) or whether it was just a busy time of the year, but it didn’t matter because you loved your job and you’d do whatever it took to keep it. It didn’t matter to Sirius, either, apparently; what mattered was that you’d been spending more time at work, and when you weren’t there, you took your work home, always bent over your laptop instead of spending time with your boyfriends.

When Remus and James tried to smooth things over, they only ended up getting dragged in too, and soon you were fighting about whether you should tell your bosses you couldn’t handle your workload (you’d rather cut off your left foot) and how they didn’t understand how important this was to you (they claimed they did) and that you were prioritizing work over your relationship and that they were needy for making you choose like that, and on and on with voices rising and tensions heightening until Sirius all but yelled, “I don’t care what happens to you at work, you shouldn’t want that more than you want us!”

You’d gone quiet. Everyone had. Remus and James seemed to know that he’d crossed a line with you, but they didn’t correct him. Their silence was clear enough: they agreed.

Your body couldn’t decide between anger and anguish, and you’d worried that if you kept going, you’d scream at them. So you’d just said, “I can’t do this,” and left.

You’ve been walking around for over an hour now. Aimless circles around your neighborhood and the surrounding streets. Lamplights are flickering on as twilight turns to darkness, the nighttime breeze cooling the teartracks on your cheeks. You keep turning the whole thing over in your head, but you can’t stop fixating on the last thing Sirius said and the other boys’ wordless agreement. Selfishly, it’s the first part that troubles you most: I don’t care what happens to you at work. Your work is endlessly important to you. Before you met the boys, it was nearly the only thing you were living for. You’d put years into school and menial, boring jobs to get the one you have now. You love what you do. Do they not understand that about you? You don’t get how they can claim to care about you, and not care about this thing that is at the core of who you are.

Then there’s the second part. You shouldn’t want that more than you want us. As a statement, it’s true. But the implication is dead wrong. Because you don’t care more for your job than you do them. If you had to lose one or the other, you’d give up your job in a heartbeat. But as far as you know, you’re only at risk of losing one right now, so why can’t your boyfriends just sit tight for a couple weeks while you fight to keep it?

You’re hurting for yourself and for them, because how could they think that you don’t care about them? You feel like your heart is being cleaved in two.

When you arrive back at your apartment, you still don’t know what to do, but you feel calmer. You don’t really expect anyone else to have cooled down—Sirius especially, whose anger ignites quickly and takes time to burn out—and you don’t particularly want to keep arguing, but you will, until you all see each other more clearly. You’re ready to explain yourself better, to soothe and smooth over whatever you can.

But when you open the door, the silence startles you. It’s like someone has sucked the air from your apartment, the atmosphere stale and morose.

James turns from where he’s sitting on the couch, eyes widening. “You’re back.”

Remus appears, sitting up from where he’d been lying next to James, and Sirius emerges from your bedroom. Each of their eyes look as red as yours probably do, and the sight makes your heart feel heavy in your chest.

“Y/N,” Sirius says, and it’s not so much the croakiness of his voice as the fact that he’s not trying to hide it that raises alarms with you, “I’m sorry. I went too far, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s okay,” you say without thinking, even though it hadn’t felt okay at the time. You’ll say anything to get him to snap out of whatever this is, the misery in his eyes unfamiliar and terrifying.

“We shouldn’t have asked you to choose between us and your work,” Remus says, his features tight with something that looks like grief. “Do what you need to, just stay here with us, please.”

You hesitate, feeling like there’s something you’ve missed. You hadn’t been gone too long, had you? Had they been worried you’d been hurt or something?

Before you can ask, James reaches out a hand to you over the top of the couch, and you step forward to take it, giving him a reassuring squeeze as his eyes well with tears. “We love you so much,” he says, uncharacteristically quiet, and you feel like someone has plunged a knife into your middle and twisted. “It’d feel so stupid to break up over the living room being messy. Let’s just talk this over, yeah?”

Your hand goes limp in his. “Break up?”

You get only blank looks in reply.

“You’re breaking up with me?”

“Wh—dovey, no,” Remus sputters. “But aren’t…we thought you were breaking up with us. Weren’t you?”

“Of course not!” You press a hand to your chest, just to make sure your heart’s still going in there. “I was upset, but not…I was never going to leave you over it.”

“You said you couldn’t do this anymore,” Sirius says, almost disbelieving.

“I meant the argument, not our relationship.”

“Oh, fuck.” James throws his head back on the couch cushions with a relieved exhale. “So we’re all still together, just in a fight?”

“Just in a fight,” you agree, and you’ve never been happier to admit to conflict. You start towards Sirius, throwing your arms around his neck, and you can feel his shock as he stiffens, then brings his hands to your back. “I’m sorry too,” you say, letting go after a moment and turning so you can see all of your boys. “I didn’t mean to make you all feel like you weren’t important to me. I just wanted you to understand that my job is important to me, too. And I’m getting really scared that if I can’t keep up, I could lose it.”

“Sweetheart.” James beckons, and you go into his arms, settling in. These are the kinds of arguments you like best; the ones where you all listen to each other, working towards a solution as people who love each other instead of opponents. “We don’t want you to lose your job either.”

“I don’t think this busy season will last much longer,” you say earnestly. “And if it does, I promise I’ll talk to someone and try to get a lighter workload. Do you guys think that you could give me a couple more weeks? I’ll try to be around more, but I just want…it’s important to me to be sure I’m going to be able to keep my job.”

Sirius huffs, going to sit in the chair across from you. “Well, it sounds so fucking rational when you put it like that.” He cracks a smile, and you return it hesitantly. “Yeah, I think I can manage a couple weeks. What about you guys?”

Remus hums his assent, and James nods eagerly, clearly ready to be done with the conflict portion of the evening.

“Sorry I scared you,” you say, guilt still a dull ache in your chest. You kiss James’ cheek, and the skin there tastes faintly salty, but a dimple forms as he smiles at you. “I’m not going to break up with you guys, ever, but I swear that if I’m ever thinking about it, I’ll be more explicit.”

2K notes · View notes

spatialwave · 5 months

Text

“𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮’𝓼 𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭”

pairing: the ghoul x fem!reader word count: 1.8k words summary: you’re not sure how, but you, a vault dweller, managed to sneak your way into the ghoul’s heart. warnings: implied sa notes: just a little/poorly paced ficlet LOL, testing the waters of writing for cooper. kind of fluffy, the start of maybe a little ficlet series?? also taking request for ghoulcy or ghoul x readers! 🖤

-> next part!

being a so-called ‘vaultie’ had put you in quite the predicament while on your journey through the wastelands. unbeknownst to you, a bounty had been placed on your delicate head — a large bag of caps that would be sure to provide a ghoul with adequate supplies to keep from going feral.

you, on the other hand, were severely unprepared for what the surface would bring. several nights alone, your supplies depleting. hell, you hadn’t even known that bounties were a thing, or that you’d be needing to purchase your next meal with a handful of bottle caps.

if it weren’t for cooper finding you, you’d likely have died out in the wastes with the radiation eating you away until you were nothing but a pile of bones. still, you weren’t fond of the treatment he’d greeted you with.

when you first saw the shadowy figure, your naivety had you hopeful. you stepped closer and even spoke a soft, “hello?” before a lasso had been thrown in your direction and wrapping snug around your neck.

“were’t you taught that you shouldn’t trust strangers in the dark?” the voice of a southern man spoke, thick like syrup. sounding like the man in the movies you had watched with your dad back in the vault.

knowing what you did now, you wished that you hadn’t put so much trust in him, though, you had no idea a ghoul would be making himself known.

the first day was brutal, being dragged along like a dog with blisters forming on your feet and your lips cracking and bleeding from dehydration. you had tried to plead your case to him, explaining how you needed to find your father, but he hadn’t shown an ounce of remorse.

by the fourth day? well, for your own sake you wouldn’t say it aloud, but you were near certain that you had grown on the ghoul. he removed the rope that left reddened marks on your skin and even gave you the chance to clean yourself up in a bucket of rain water. even gave some jerky he’d dried out from some critters he killed—allowing you to indulge in food without resorting to cannibalism like he had.

you didn’t want to push your luck with him, but you wondered why he’d grown soft on you.

the man was far from soft or vulnerable, unafraid to push you around or tighten the rope when you spoke out of turn. so, when you had a moment of reprieve after cleaning yourself up, your hair damp and clinging to the side of your face, you forced yourself to ask the question on your mind.

“why’d you remove the rope?” you asked, sitting around a fire on the third night—having never felt safer than with him. your knees were pressed to your chest and you fought away the hunger pangs as your eyes drifted to the ghoul sitting propped against a tree, eyes unseen under his hat.

you were greeted with the sound of a soft grunt as he shifted in his spot, and you could tell that he was thinking of an answer. something he could say that wouldn’t translate to ‘i’m growing tired of treating you like a piece of meat’.

“i don’t needa’ reason,” the ghoul muttered, lifting a hand up to his hat and adjusting it so it covered more of his face, “but that pricey bounty on that pretty head of yours is higher if i make sure you’re alive and well. not my preference, but can’t argue with money.”

the compliment struck a chord in you, one that rose colour to your cheeks and had you turning your head away to look at the small fire. pursing your lips, you weren’t satisfied with the answer.

“i could run away, though. without the rope around my neck,” you piped up, brows furrowing.

a heavy and loud sigh came from the hole in cooper’s face, your eyes lifting to him as you watched him a lift a hand. that hand pushed back the hat on his head so those piercing eyes could meet with your own doe-eyed stare. a smirk grew on his lips and you felt your stomach twist nervously.

“how far do you think you’d get if you tried to run, vaultie?” the ghoul questioned you with that sickening look on his face, “the bounty prefers you alive, but don’t think i won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head if you try to stir up some trouble for me.”

when day seven had rolled around, you found yourself in a predicament that only confused the everlasting fuck out of you. cooper had finally brought you to the man who had some caps for your head—a man who you didn’t even know, but claimed to know your father.

your heart shattered when you were thrown into a cage, bruises already forming on your skin when you had made contact with the shoddy brick wall. eyes fixated on the ghoul who was busy shoving caps into his pockets and taking precious vials from the box that had been offered to him.

what a fool you were to think that the ghoul would change his mind, that maybe he’d have an ounce of empathy in his irradiated body. you were no more valuable than what kept him alive… you couldn’t blame him for that.

“well, well,” the man spoke, his body covered in dirt and grime, teeth so decayed you could smell his breath even as he stood over you after entering the makeshift cell, “don’t try squirm on me now, we’re going to get ya’ all tied up… then i’ll have some fun with you.”

your lips quaked in fear, the first time you truly felt fear in days. cooper, the ghoul, had become your safety net and yet he tossed you away like you were nothing. into the hands of a pig, no less.

“don’t touch me,” you yelled at him, hearing the sounds of footsteps retreating.

you were alone.

“quit making a fuss,” the man spit at you, “the quieter you are, the less this will hurt.”

the sound of a distant gunshot had caused the man to pull away from you, and for you to perk up in your position on the ground. you hadn’t realized your entire body was shaking and you assumed the worst—someone was about to come in here and kill you.

why the hell did you ever think coming to the surface was a good idea?

you quickly sink back against the wall as you hear commotion, men yelling and more gunshots. it was a shootout.

“what the fuck is going on?” the man in front of you yelled, but no one answered. he spun on his feet and bent down in front of you, a heavy hand grabbing tight at your wrist, “get up, we’re leaving.”

“wha—“

you words were cut off when footsteps entered the room once more, the man quickly standing and dropping you back to the floor hastily where the back of your head smacked hard against the brick wall and left your vision hazy.

“you stupid ghoul,” the man roared and you felt your chest flutter, even as another gun shot rang through your ears and blood splatted across your face, a gurgling sound filling your ears.

through your blurred vision, you looked up just as the grotesque man collapsed in front of you, blood spilling out of the wound in his neck as he twitched until the blood loss killed him.

“cooper?” your voice croaked, the name slipping from your tongue easily. a name you’d wriggled out from him just a couple days prior.

a figure knelt in front of you, you immediately recognized those eyes even as your vision had grown spotty. you parted your lips to say more, but nothing came out.

“stay with me,” his southern drawl comforted you as you felt your mind edging the line of unconsciousness, the pain in the back of your head feeling cold now, “vaultie—“

the crackling of a fire was all you heard when your eyes fluttered open, red and orange filling your pupils as the smell of smoke filled your lungs. there was something underneath your body, leathery fabric… and something brushing through your hair.

smacking your lips together, you tried to sit up but failed immediately when you realized your body wasn’t ready for moving yet.

“slow down, cowgirl,” a voice spoke, “we’re in no rush.”

that’s when you realize that there were fingers in your hair. cooper’s fingers. why was he soothing you? when did you get here?

“you left me,” your voice was weak, still hardly able to keep your eyes open, but you figured a stimpack was the reason you hadn’t felt anymore pain from the back of your head. your first concussion.

“almost did,” he said, a heavy sigh coming from him, but nothing else to explain his actions.

tilting your head back just enough, you were able to spot cooper sitting next to you, legs outstretched in front of him and head tilted back against the wall he leaned up against. he’d found an old building to set up the night in, all of the windows shattered and broken, so the smoke from the small fire had a place to escape.

“but you came back,” you murmured, rolling slowly until you were on your back and cooper had to retract his hand from your hair, arms instead settling over his chest, “i thought you hated me.”

a snort, which you could only assume was his form of laughter, came from the ghoul. a smirk playing along his lips as you watched him from your position on the floor, his leather jacket keeping you from laying on the layer of dust that accumulated in the building.

“if i hated you, darling, you would’ve been gone the moment i laid eyes on you,” cooper answered honestly. you finally got that vulnerability you asked for.

your lips twitched, hiding back a smile as you adjusted yourself more comfortably on his coat that he so lovingly rested you on. as you laid there in silence, allowing your eyes to fall shut once more, you couldn’t help but wonder where you’d be in the coming weeks.

now that cooper had delivered his bounty, you wondered what could be next on his plate of adventure. you hoped that you’d be able to convince him to help find your father, but that was a conversation you’d wait for in the morning.

for now, you were content with the feeling of gentle comfort as his hand returned to your hair, calloused, weathered fingers pulling through the strands as you lulled back to sleep—knowing that you’d somehow found your way in the ghoul’s heart.

#fallout tv #ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout prime #fallout fic #wordsbyspatial

393 notes · View notes

thedevilspearl · 2 years

Note

do you ever get the idea some of the brothers have a human kink? if so? who? i personally think lucifer and beelzebub. sometimes satan if he’s not thinking about committing manslaughter messing with lucifer!♡ (ꈍ ω ꈍ) ♡

-☽

the brothers with a human kink — most to least

a/n: i have to tell you, moon nonnie — i’m genuinely not sure with this one! it’s not something i’ve considered greatly before but when i think about the brothers with a human kink, i have a feeling they all have it, just to different extents. so i did a mtl if that’s okay ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

also i’ve been sick in bed all day, so thank you for this awesome idea to keep me going ₍⸝ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎⸝ ♡

tags: all brothers, no explicit smut but consistent discussion of kinks, so minors do not interact! other kink warnings — power play, mild predator/prey, vore, exhibitionism.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

lucifer’s human kink is so lowkey that he doesn’t realise it himself, but it’s actually the most prominent out of all the brothers. it’s the fact that humans are so fragile compared to demons; one wrong move could be fatal so it brings out his protective side. he wants to be by your side, watching your every move to ensure your safety and well–being. it’s innocent at first, but then comes the part where he wants to test your limits, both in and outside of the bedroom. how much can a human like you take from a demon like him?

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

he’s always thought about eating you, it was one of his first thought when meeting you, in fact. of course, he would never but there’s a little pit of fire in his belly that warms him up in all the right places when he thinks about it, and how weak you would be against him if he ever gave into his desires. he’s vocal about this kink, telling you how he adores you and how yummy you look. now, in the bedroom, there are some real tests of faith because he can become so close to devouring you whole. but he is aware of how strong his human kink is, so he knows how much more control he needs around you, especially when every little thing you do can set him off.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

the power trip from a human kink is what gets mammon going. he knows for sure how powerful he is, and his self–restraint is incredible. he’s never going to hurt you at all, let alone with his demon powers. but there’s no harm in threatening you a little with it, right? it totally boosts his ego when he sees you get all fidgety when he brags about how strong he is, and how a silly human like you could never best him. but, and this is a big but, he finds it all the more thrilling when a silly human like you actually overpowers him. he’s not as strong against his human as he thought, and his human kink is raging when you put him in his place.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

satan has a deep understanding of the difference between him and you. more than any of the brothers, he really acknowledges the power difference and he never wants to use that against you. and that is why he tries his hardest to never use the fact that you’re a human to sexualise you. he treats you as his equal, someone he would never use his power to take advantage of. however, if you were to suggest you were into it, he wouldn’t mind feeding his sinful desires and put you in your pitiful place. after all, what power does a human have to protest the demon of wrath?

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒

a human kink and exhibitionism come hand in hand with asmodeus. for him, it’s not entirely about power play like with some of the others but rather, he and he alone has the human every demon is after. he once was the most sought after, but now it’s you and it will always amaze him how a human could do that in a world where demons could destroy you in a second. you have the real power here, and he wants to flaunt that. walking side by side with everyone’s favourite human who looks at no one else but him... it makes him happy, and flustered. he relishes in everyone’s gaze towards the two of you. it’s a match that shouldn’t work, but it does and it excites him. he wants to show them everything.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

belphie’s emotional connection to the human race is far too deep; from hate to jealousy, to something akin to love after meeting you. he appreciates they way you helped him overcome his past views and actions, but regret will always remain deeply rooted in his soul. so he tries not to think about these things. it’s not right to think of you in such ways simply because you are human. after everything you taught him, he thinks he’s sick to even think about a human kink. but then again, it’s in his nature as a demon to want to overpower those who are lesser than him. he’s very conflicted and tries to hide it, but he will sometimes lose control and show you this dark secret of his.

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

while kinks are inevitable in a relationship, he doesn’t see them so significantly. sex is special, for sure. but what matters to him is the chemistry between you, the flow of emotions and the genuine feeling you have for each other. but still, he loves that you challenge him. a mere human thinking they can take on the grand admiral of hell’s navy? he won’t back down so easily. every now and then, he likes to remind both you and himself of his powers as a demon, and he loves even more the blush on your face when you test his strength. whether it’s out of fear or arousal, it drives him crazy.

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me smut #obey me smut headcanons #obey me x reader

3K notes · View notes

julilovesyou444 · 1 year

Note

ok first of all your writing is so good i’m literally in love????? anyways, could i request a tom x reader fluff with them cuddling but like tom doesn’t rly know how to do it bc he’s used to hook ups and stuff and so it’s diff for him?? i feel like that’s super specific but i think i wld be so cuteee idkk. anyways tysm pookie 💗💗💗

show me how ~ tom kaulitz

AHHHH thank you love!! you are so sweet💟 I’ll try!!! thank you for requesting, this is my first time doing one of these so I’ll do my best!! if you have a request, feel free to do it in the little thingy on my page, this was so fun !! ALSO, if this isn’t what you were expecting or anything, I’ll write it again differently, no problem ☺️

background ~ you and your boyfriend had just started dating not long ago, and there were a lot of things in the relationship that were new to him. he hadn’t been in many relationships at all, so he isn’t sure on everything, for example, cuddling and affection. you show him how :)

warnings ~ none, just fluff and cutesy stuff, tad bit of angst too

I’m Montenegrin so please forgive me if my English is messed up !

you had been at home all day, just picking up and relaxing. it was a pretty chill day though. you’re boyfriend, Tom, was at the studio all day. At first it was just a couple days of the week for a few hours, but lately it had been everyday for the whole day. You could tell it was taking a toll on him. He was tired and more irritable. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and you honestly felt really bad for him. When he would come home, he wouldn’t want anyone to bother him. After dating Tom for a week or two, you came to realize he was not an affectionate person. You thought that he just needed to warm up to you, but it had been almost a month. Besides kissing and sex, he rarely touched you. You couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so you tried to ignore it for the main part.

today was another long day for him. you weren’t living together yet, but he just slept over at your place all the time. you had made dinner for him tonight, not something you always did but you wanted to be nice. you were sitting on your bed, scrolling through random websites on your laptop when you heard the front door open and shut. Tom didn’t call out to you like he usually did. You knew today probably sucked for him. The fear of him rejecting you as he sometimes did made it hard for you to leave your room, but you did anyways.

You walked down the hallway to main room of the apartment to see Tom sitting on the couch, watching tv. He looked angry. The dinner you made him still sat on the table, untouched, and probably cold now.

“I made you dinner.”, you spoke softly. His eyes darted from the screen to yours. Tom looked so upset, almost as if he wanted to cry.

“I know. Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”, he replied coldly.

You took a step closer to him, almost testing the waters.

“How was the studio?”

“Shit. It was shit. Do I need to pause this or…?”, he replied rather harshly, referring to the television.

“Tom…”, you trailed off, very quiet. He saw the hurt in your eyes and immediately hated himself for taking his anger out on you. He grabbed the remote and turned off the t.v.

“I’m sorry, I’m just in a bad mood. I’m really stressed and tired and I don’t know how to get rid of it, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”, Tom said, sounding genuine as ever.

“come here.”, you said, putting your hand out for him to take. You could tell he was very hesitant, but he took your hand and let you pull him up from the couch.

before he could argue or protest, you pulled him into a hug. you usually didn’t hug, but it felt like he needed it. You wrapped your arms tightly around his torso and pushed the side of your face into his chest. At first, his arms were just outwards, unsure of where to go. When he became more aware and comfortable, and put his arms around your neck, hands on the side of your head as he placed his head on top on yours. you could feel him relax into the hug, and it made you so happy that you were finally able to do that for him.

“I’m sorry for being rude, today was just so so bad, and these long ass days are tiring me out.”, Tom said, his voice muffled into your head. He left a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Let me help.”, you pulled away, looking up at him.

“Help how?”

“Y’know, help you relax and stuff. Make you feel better.”

“I’m not really in the mood to fuc-“

“No, Tom, not that. Like just get into pajamas and I’ll rub your back and cuddle you, yea?”

“Uhh-“

“Please, trust me, you’ll feel so much better.”

Maybe it was your pleading eyes, or the fact that he secretly wanted to be intimate with you in this sense, but it didn’t take a lot for him to give in.

“Okay.”

“Yea?”, you beamed. He couldn’t help but smile back before playfully rolling his eyes.

“Yea.”

“Okay, go get changed into something comfier.”

He nodded and grabbed some of his clothes from your room before heading to the bathroom.

You quickly went into your room and started trying to “set the mood”. You dimmed the lights as much as possible and lit a few candles. You grabbed a bunch of really soft blankets and some water too. You wanted him to feel comfortable around you. He wasn’t affectionate or that touchy with you, and you wanted him to be.

Tom walked into your room, looking around, admiring your dedication.

“Lay down.”, you instructed.

“So bossy.”, he jokingly muttered.

He laid down on your bed as you walked over.

“Lay on your stomach.”

He groaned but turned over onto his stomach.

You climbed up onto the bed, and then put one of your legs over him so you were straddling his lower back.

“what are you-“

“shhh just relax.”

your hands found their way under his shirt, making their way up to his upperback. You began to slowly massage circles into his back, feeling him instantly become less tense under you. You gradually added pressure in places that felt a little more stiff. You began to knead the knots out of his back too. There were a lot. No wonder the poor boy was so upset, his stress was causing him to get strained.

You went on massaging him for a bit more, and you could tell how calm he was getting.

you climbed off of his back and laid on your side next to him, facing him. His face was towards you and his eyes were shut, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep just yet.

“did you like that?”, you said softly. he opened his eyes narrowly and nodded.

“yes, thank you. you don’t even know how much I needed that. I’m so tired now.”, he murmured.

you opened up your arms. Tom watched you intently.

“c’mere”

“for what?”

“pleaseee don’t fight me on this one. I just wanna hold you.”

“what, like cuddling?”, he questioned, looking doubtful.

“yea… is that okay?”

“um… yea, yea it is. its just that… fuck, this is embarrassing.”, he rubbed his eyes, trying to hide his uneasiness.

“listen, all of the girls I’ve been with before, I never really did anything like that with them. usually we would just hook up and they would leave. what im trying to say I guess, is that I don’t really know how to cuddle or anything like that. I sound so stupid. its kinda just like hugging, right?”, he rambled.

at first, you couldn’t even say anything because you could believe that your beautiful, beautiful boyfriend had never been shown love and affection like that before. he so clearly deserved it, even though he had his moods, he was the sweetest thing. You felt bad for him. That was probably why he hadn’t shown or done anything like that for you before.

“I’ll show you how.”, you responded with a small but sweet smile. his eyes sorta lit up and he picked up his head from the pillow.

“show me how?”

“mhm, c’mere. don’t make me wait any longer, im tired too y’know.”, you teased him a little. Tom scoffed before scooting over to you, waiting for your instructions.

“put your head against my chest, under mine.”

he listened to you, putting the side of his face against your chest. You took his arm and wrapped it around your waist, and he quickly got the memo and snuck his other arm beneath you so that they were both wrapped around you. He pulled you closer, forcing you to smile. you entangled your legs with his.

you two were finally cuddling. you had wanted to for so long, but you didn’t know how to ask. you could feel Tom’s slow breath blow out against you as he got closer to falling asleep.

“thank you, baby.”, he sleepily mumbled.

“of course. I’m sorry your day wasn’t great.”

“it’s definitely better now. I wish we would’ve done this earlier.”

“I thought you didn’t really want me to touch you, or for you to touch me, in this way, I guess…”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to but it was just unfamiliar to me and that kind of scared me, I didn’t want to do anything wrong and I’m not used to this kind of affection.”

“I’m sorry, Tom.”, you said, gently stroking his hair. he breathed deeply, showing you how relaxed he was becoming.

“it’s okay, I have you now.”

You continued to play with his hair as he cuddled you, and you could tell just how peaceful he was. He ended up falling asleep pretty fast. You were so happy that he was able to unwind and open up with you. You reached over to the candle and blew it out. You flipped the light switch off and let yourself fall asleep in Tom’s arms.

a/n ~ awww this is very sweet to me😭 I love doing these cutesy little stories, they are my favorite to write. I’m in my home country right now so I’m sorry if my posts are very inconsistent or posted at a weird time, thank you for the request!! all of the comments are so sweet too, and they make me feel a lot less insecure about my writing. have a good day !!!💋😽

#tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfic #georg listing #gustav schäfer

1K notes · View notes

xxbottlecapx · 1 year

Text

I saw someone talk about this idea (can’t find them now) so-

Steve is walking down the street and he hears the jingling of a dog collar so he turns around to ask to pet their dog but it’s just Eddie.

Steve might have a meltdown. He seriously might. This was the worst day he’s had in a long fucking time.

The day started with a fucking seizure, of all things, when Steve hasn’t had one in months, so he decided to go to the emergency room to get checked up just in case.

The doctors said he was fine, the scans and blood tests came back just as normal, but he ended up missing lunch so he didn’t get to have down time with his best friend Robin, and she was the biggest reason he could manage his anxiety and PTSD.

His mom called him when he was at the hospital, even though she disowned him ten years ago when he was forced out of the closet as bisexual. He thought she wanted to talk but apparently her husband (Steve’s father, unfortunately) was dying and wanted Steve to help with the hospital bills considering apparently their business went under, which Steve hadn’t known about because he hasn’t seen them in ten years. It led to a fight over the phone which triggered another seizure, so he’s had two in one day. Because of his history with seizures, the hospital decided to let him go, which he wasn’t entirely sure would be a good idea, but what else were they supposed to do? It’s not like Steve knew. Besides, he’s pretty sure they were understaffed and maybe they just didn’t have a place for him. They just gave him some painkillers, gave him a form so he wouldn’t have to go to work for a week, and let him go after giving him an IV. Steve would have argued about the work thing, but the doctor was able to convince him that having a bad seizure in front of a bunch of toddlers might be a bad idea, even if they’ve dealt with his smaller ones before.

He decided he would go for a run because that always relaxes him before remembering that he shouldn’t go running after having two seizures, so he decided to go for a walk instead. Of course, this only makes things worse for himself. First, he forgets to take his dog Farrah with him on the walk, and then he realizes that he’s wearing a thick knitted yellow sweater in 86 degree heat, also he lost his glasses somehow?

He must have still had some postictal confusion left because he very quickly got lost and then he couldn’t find wherever the fuck he put his phone, so he couldn’t call Robin to pick him up, and it’s not like his anxiety would let him walk up to some random person and ask.

It was getting dark, so he wasn’t going to approach a woman, which was something Robin had to teach, and Steve was kind of scared of men, which might be stupid because he was a man, and also taller than most men, but anxiety is a bitch so it’s not like he could argue with it.

His heart beating outside his chest, Steve realized he very well could have a third seizure, or a panic attack if he didn’t calm the fuck down, so he went to hide behind a alley which just so happened to be behind a bar.

That was fine.

The music was dampened by the concrete wall and sometimes silence made Steve’s existential dread even worse. He missed his dog. Farrah was a white teacup chihuahua and Pomeranian mix that Steve had adopted from a shelter he had been volunteering at. She kept getting bullied for her size even when they put her in with the other babies, and the shelter asked someone to foster her. It was a foster fail but Steve didn’t regret it.

Steve tried to think of her as he sat down, working on the deep breathing his therapist had told him about. Of course, Steve sat on the floor and got beer and gunk on his jeans, but he was so tired that he was past caring.

A migraine was coming on, all of his bones hurt, and he had white spots dancing in his vision. His hands were shaking. It’s very possible he had a small seizure when he was getting here and he didn’t remember it, that happened sometimes. He really hoped Robin had done okay at school without him. They taught a kindergarten class together. He really should have called to get her an aid but it had slipped his mind and she was going to be pissed.

He would just stay on the floor until he felt better. Then he’d call and apologize.

He did remember to feed Farrah and she had some pads on his living room so she would be okay. When he got home he would give her a lot of treats. Maybe he would make Robin cupcakes.

Steve’s nerves picked up when he heard someone open a door behind him. Luckily for him, he had a switchblade in his pocket (he got it from Max, and who knows where she got it from) so he could use that in case of an emergency if anyone tried to accost him. Then again, this was a bar, maybe they’d just think he was drunk and leave him alone.

The jingling of a dog tag gets Steve’s attention, and suddenly he thinks he might actually cry if he doesn’t get to pet this dog right now.

The person’s heavy footsteps get closer, the dog chain making cute clinking sounds, and Steve readily looks up to ask, even though his face is already red with embarrassment, because what if the person says no?

But then he sees the man’s thick-heeled boots, and then his leather jacket with all the metal spikes on the shoulders, and Steve thinks no, he doesn’t have to ask to pet the guys dog, and then he chokes when he realizes there isn’t any fucking dog. The man is wearing a collar.

Steve tries to quickly shove his head between his legs, curl into a ball so the man might not notice him, but whatever sound he makes is enough to draw the guy's attention. Fuck.

“Hey, what were you going to say? I saw you try to ask something.” The guys crouches down in front of Steve. Steve assumes the guy is going to beat him up for looking at him weird or something, but the man’s voice, while deep, is actually very calm. He has a few more chains hanging from his black jeans, which were absolutely shredded, and the clinking noise still reminds Steve of Farrah but now he’s embarrassed about it. Is he wearing fishnets under his jeans? Oh my god, Robin is going to kill Steve in the morning if this guy doesn’t kill him first.

Steve thinks about answering but his words get clogged in his throat. Sure, he didn’t ask to pet the guy, but he thought about it, and his face burns and Steve wishes he could jump into the dumpster a few feet away.

He must look weird, because the guy, already crouching down to him, gets closer until their knees are touching.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, very gently putting a heavily ringed hand on Steve’s arm.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve sobbed, finally lifting his head to meet the guy's face. The dude’s hair is long, held up in a ponytail, which shows off the fact that he has an undercut with a pattern shaved on it. This man is absolutely terrifying, oh my God, how is Steve going to get out of this situation without dying?

The guy's eyes widen at the words, but he keeps his movements slow as he places his hands against both of Steve’s trembling arms. Not constricting him, just pressing, just adding a bit of pressure.

“You’re okay, I’m not angry.” The guy says soothingly, “You haven’t done anything. Why- why are you crying?” The guy’s voice goes high pitched, cracking a little. If Steve wasn’t so terrified, maybe he’d find it comforting.

Steve doesn’t know what comes over him. He tells himself he’ll come up with something stupid, but his body hurts and lying takes a mental energy that Steve doesn’t have right now. His head pounds and the sound of his blood rushes past his ears.

“Uh, I heard your collar and I thought you were a dog.” He whispered, putting his head between his knees again. “I was gonna ask to pet you. I’m so sorry.” He sounds absolutely mortified, which is good because he is. Why was he saying this? Steve was about to die and then Farrah would go back to the shelter and Robin would find another teacher and forget about him and no one would be able to teach Dustin to drive because he’s too annoying to keep a normal driving instructor-

“You can pet me, if you want.” The guys interrupt Steve’s spiral. He moves so he’s sitting next to Steve, both their backs to the wall, his chains clinking all the while until their thighs are touching. Steve could briefly feel the dull spikes on the guys jacket pressing Steve’s shoulder.

Steve’s brain completely blanks out.

“…Uh-“ his hands are close to his chest, in fists, but mostly he’s just confused. Why is this guy being so nice to him? Steve thought he was a dog. He was never going to live this down.

“I like petting.” The guy says, a small smirk on his face that brings charming wrinkles to his cheeks. Steve blushes.

“Ca….” He can’t tell if the guy is serious, but the dude quickly pulls his hair out of his ponytail, shaking his head- like a dog.

Maybe it’s just the seizure talking, but Steve tries to call his bluff.

“Can I pet you?” Steve whispers, confusion and uncertainty lacing his shaking voice.

“Yeah.” The dude replies calmly, tilting his head.

Well, Steve realizes, now he kind of has to, doesn’t he? Shit. The guys hair looks really fucking soft. Steve’s allowed to touch it?

Without knowing what else to do, Steve stiffly pats the guys on the head, which makes the guy laugh. Still, he doesn’t attempt to make Steve stop. In fact, he gets closer, until Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulder, playing with the hair on the crown of his head. Steve doesn’t really know what to do at first, but the dude smells really minty, but also like weed, and Steve doesn’t hate it as much as he thinks he should. He brushes his fingers through the guy's brown hair until there are no knots, letting his heart settle until the spots in his vision go away.

“So, what are you doing out here?” The guy asks quietly, letting Steve mess with his hair, his eyes are closed almost like he’s enjoying it.

“I got lost.” Steve starts. The guy hums, so Steve continues. “I, uh, I had a few seizures this morning, and I got confused and got lost and I can’t find my phone or my glasses-“ Steve only realizes he’s rambling when the guy gives him a very concerned look.

“Do I need to get you to a hospital?” He asks, clearly trying not to frighten Steve.

“Oh? No, no, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Steve said, almost absently as he braided a small strand of the guy's hair. He tried to focus on that instead of the raging headache he has crawling up his spine. “I went to the emergency room already, this is normal, it happens a lot, it’s just been a bad day. I’m sorry.”

He can feel the guy nod, his body relaxing slightly. His hand casually moves to touch Steve’s collar with the tips on his fingers, his short nails painted black.

“Your glasses are on your shirt.”

Steve looks down where his glasses were hanging off the collar of his sweater. He blanches.

“Shit, thank you. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, hurriedly putting them on. His face goes hot, and he wants to sink into the floor. He might cry again, he was so embarrassed.

“Can you call someone?” The guy asks, not bringing up the panic on Steve’s face, which Steve is mighty grateful for because bringing it up will make him cry, he thinks.

Steve shakes his head, “I lost my phone. Sorry.” He chokes out.

“Can I call someone?” The guy specifies.

That’s a really good idea. Sure, it’s getting dark, but Robin always has time for him. She’s probably out of work and blowing up his phone trying to contact him. She might even have broken into Steve’s apartment by now.

Steve closes his eyes, trying to push past the fog in his brain. The only thing it does is add pressure to the backs of his eyes.

“I… I can’t remember any numbers right now, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He puts his hand over his mouth to stop himself from speaking.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The guy delicately pressed his palm to Steve’s shoulder, which draws attention to the fact that Steve’s breathing has sped up again.

Steve gulps, blinking hard to stop himself from tearing up. He feels so fucking stupid.

“Uh, with chronic seizures, there’s this thing, called a- uh, postictal state,” he tries to explain, voice way more breathy than he would like. He’s gripping maybe a bit too firmly to the frayed ends of the guy’s hair but he makes no move to stop him. “Which I like to say just means my brain hasn’t, hasn’t caught up to my body, like it’s, um, still processing.“

The guy nods, taking Steve’s rambling with grace. “Do you like champurrado?” He asks, Steve opens his mouth, closing it, opening it again. The guy nods, hurrying to explain himself.

“We could go to my apartment and I could make you some. You look like you could eat. I made albondigas yesterday. When you can remember, we’ll call someone.”

Steve really shouldn’t. This guy has already been too nice to him. Steve didn’t want to impose. Also, the guy was very kind, yeah, but Robin would kill him if he got hurt following this dude somewhere. But then Steve takes stock of the aches in his body. If he didn’t go with the guy, what would he do? Sit here all night? It was going to get cold and Steve’s anxiety wouldn’t let him sleep outside in the dark in an alleyway behind a bar playing very loud, aggressive metal music.

Steve sighs, defeated. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry.” He felt like he was doing something wrong.

The guys smile brightly, almost blindingly so. He stands, chains jingling, and holds out a hand for Steve to take it.

“You gotta stop saying sorry, man, you just had what, two seizures? It’s fi- holy shit.”

The man’s hands were soft, which Steve wasn’t expecting, save for a few well placed calluses on his fingers. Steve tried not to think about it as he stood and wiped some gunk off his jeans, staring at the messy floor before figuring out something was wrong. He looked up, and the dude was staring up at Steve with his eyes wide, mouth agape.

“What? What’s wrong?” Steve whispers, folding in on himself a little. What the fuck did he do now?

The music rages on, but now it’s overwhelming. He feels static in his head.

The guy’s heavily tattooed arms were held limply at his sides, “You- you’re really fucking tall.” He says unabashedly.

Steve gulps, trying to shrink a little to make himself smaller, like that may alleviate the problem. Unfortunately, thought he did this often, It did mean he had terrible posture so his neck began to hurt.

“Oh, I’m really sorry.” Steve wouldn’t look at him.

“Why are you apologizing? It’s hot.” The guy says, Steve’s head shoots up to look at him as they stare at each other until the dude realizes what he just said. “Wait, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” The guy puts his hands up, a nervous huff coming out past his lips as he was the one to start panicking now.

Steve can’t help but let out a small laugh, covering his mouth with his hands. He’s never had someone say he’s hot in such a way, he couldn’t help but be a bit flattered. Steve nods so the dude knows he isn’t upset by the random comment. Steve’s face was already red, and now he couldn’t even tell why.

The guy’s eyes brighten, if that were possible.

“Okay, let’s go. I’m Eddie.” He says, motioning for Steve to follow him. It takes a second for Steve to get the memo, with how slow his brain is working, so Eddie cautiously takes Steve’s arm in the way Steve watches men do in old movies.

“I’m Steve. Thank you.” Steve, honest to God, giggled. Maybe he should be worrying about his dad and the fight he had with his mother, but he tries not to think about it. They’re not his problem, and he has better things to do.

He does have to look down to see Eddie’s face when they’re not sitting, but that’s normal for Steve. He’s a few heads taller than most people he knows, and he works with kids so he’s obviously taller than them. He kind of just forgets, most of the time. No one else has mentioned it. His height was why he was so popular in high school before the seizures and anxiety messed it all up, though Steve is grateful he isn’t a bitch anymore. He’s only about a head and a half taller than Eddie, though.

Eddie laughs, and it’s a cracky, beautiful sound. “You’re welcome, big boy.”

Steve squints at Eddie as he leads him down the street. “Big boy?” He asks. As they get farther from the bar, there are less and less people out on the streets. No one jostles Steve, though, probably on account of the guy next to him, covered head to toe in spikes with black eye makeup.

“Really? Do you not see how large you are?” Eddie continued, looking up at Steve like he was insane as he led him to the left, then the right. “It’s honestly kind of scary.”

“Me?” Steve wasn’t scary, this guy had it wrong. Sure, he was big, but nothing about him was frightening. Steve couldn’t remember the last person he met who actually looked afraid of him. None of his students ever were.

“Yeah, you!”

“I’m not scared.” Steve protested, though he was also smiling. “If anything, you’re scary.”

Eddie throws his head back dramatically, covering his face with his curly hair. The bandana in his back pockets whips around.

“Why thank you.” Eddie grins, “Just so you know, flattery works on me.” He continued until they got to what appeared to be Eddie’s apartment building. Steve held on to his arm tighter. Eddie's dramatics calm him a little.

“I have a dog, so you can pet a real one.” Eddie teases, unlocking the door with his free arm. “Her name is Ozzy, she’s a Doberman Great Dane mix, so I hope big dogs don’t scare you. I promise she’s not violent.” There’s something in his voice that tells Steve there’s something else.

Steve smiles softly, “She sounds perfect.”

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steveddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things s4 #robin buckley #steve has seizures #meet cute #or meet ugly #depending #depending on how you look at it #modern au

917 notes · View notes

todomochi-uwu · 7 months

Text

Who (6/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Author's notes: It's been such a long time, and I'm sorry for that. Life hasn't been quite easy, but as an apology here's some smut. Hope you enjoy.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

It had been a couple of weeks since that night, and getting used to being back wasn’t quite as easy as you thought it would be. At first feeling like a stranger to the place you had once called home, and while your lovers may try to help with that, you fear they may seem to be overcompensating a bit.

You woke up because of the ungodly amount of sound that came from the kitchen.

“Yunho?” Your eyes could barely focus on the things in front of you, besides, what the hell was he doing at home at this hour? Wiping the floor?

“Good morning, my love.” He sighed and got up, “I’m sorry did I wake you up? I dropped some pans and spilt milk. I’m sorry I’m a bit of a mess right now.” He kissed your forehead before going back to cooking, “I’m making breakfast, are pancakes, okay? We also have cereal, or I can make you some eggs or…”

“Pancakes are okay, but what are you doing here so late in the morning? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” You took a seat on the kitchen bar.

“I’m taking some time off, they asked me to. Just to get my head back on my shoulders.” He flipped a pancake, “Mingi will be back in a second he went to get some orange juice, we ran out yesterday and we know how much you like it and…” He kept on going, but you couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.

You looked at him without saying anything. His hands trembled with every move he made; he kept on rambling, not stopping to take a breath, afraid to let any uncomfortable silences come through. He couldn’t stay put, moving things around, not able to focus on one thing.

Mingi came through the door. His hands were full of grocery bags that threatened to snap and spill what was inside of them. “I’m back!” He set everything on the countertop, bags of snacks spilling out, hygiene products you were missing, and a bunch of things you don’t even remember mentioning you needed. “I bought everything you ask for, my love.”

“Mingi, you didn’t have to buy this all at once. I have most of this stuff back at my place.”

“Oh well, now you have them here.”

After everything that you had gone through you felt like you needed a bit of time alone, to take a step back and process. Having to come to terms with the idea of being single, actually trying to move on, Bang Chan, the club, Yunho and Mingi. All that in such a short period was messing with your head. But your lovers seemed to differ.

“Babe, I will come back earlier from work to take you on a date, okay?”

“Mingi, we went out yesterday, I’m sure Jongho needs your help back at the office.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of everything.”

Yunho wasn’t any different.

“My love, how about we go for a walk? Or would you rather watch a movie? We can go for some ice cream.”

“Yun, don’t you have to study? I saw your calendar and you have an upcoming test.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll figure it out.”

You missed them, and not having them around had been a nightmare, but this might be over the top. Not neglecting you didn’t have to mean neglecting everything else. So, a list of all the things you had to do began to form in the back of your head.

First, figure out a way to tell them (in a way that won’t destroy Mingi) that you need some space to understand what’s going on in your head and heart. Second, get some actual work done; bills still need to get paid. Third and last of all (and the one you have been dreading the most) talk to Chan. You weren’t even sure if he would be willing to. Jisung said he hasn’t seen him come out of his apartment, and he doesn’t even answer the door; every single time Minho tried contacting him it goes straight to voice mail. Your friend assures you he only needs a bit of time, but you are not quite sure, this might be it for your friendship, and you won’t lie, it breaks your heart.

____________________________________________

Going back to the first task. You rehearsed over and over again the things you want to say, in your head and front of the mirror, it makes you cringe, but it’s better than to see Mingi drown in tears and sobs.

“I appreciate all the effort you are putting in, but that doesn’t mean you have to neglect everything else in your life...”

“We have to learn how to balance work, our individuality and this relationship...”

“All this will take time, trust is gained slowly, and I’m sure…”

And you swore those would be the words that would come out of your mouth the second dinner was over. It wasn’t easy to explain how you ended up in this position…

Mingi between your legs, lapping at your pussy like a starved man, his mouth alternating between your entrance and your clit, not knowing which one to pleasure first. Meanwhile, Yunho was sucking at your neck, leaving bruises all over the sensitive skin; his fingers pinched and pulled on your nipples, and the sins that came out of his mouth made you tremble.

“Haven’t you missed this, my love?” He said pulling on your earlobe, “Have you missed Mingi eating your sweet, little cunt, mm?”

Mingi let your skin go with a pop, before pushing two of his long, thick fingers inside you without warning, finding a rhythm immediately, kitten licking your clit at the same time.

You couldn’t form any coherent thoughts; pleasure had completely taken over your brain; you could only feel the warmth of Mingi’s tongue and Yunho’s hard cock on your back.

“Please, please, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for.

“What do you need, baby? Tell us and we’ll give it to you.”

“I need you.” You whimpered.

“But baby, you have us.” Fucking Yunho, always a tease.

“Please, please Yuyu.”

“You need to tell me, love.”

Mingi’s mouth abandoned your core, leaving you aching and in need of more. “Come on, baby. You have to tell us what you want.” He urged, mocking you. “Use your words.” His fingers kept you on the edge, but not giving you any more.

Your mind is clouded by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "I need..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "...both of you."

Yunho's fingers continued their torturous assault on your sensitive buds, while his teeth nipped your skin, "And you will have us."

Mingi resumed his ministrations with renewed fervour. His fingers delved deeper, stroking that sweet spot inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins, while his tongue resumed its teasing assault on your throbbing clit.

“I need to cum, please.”

"Then cum, my love, cum for us.”

With a strangled cry, you let yourself go, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming sea of sensations your lovers were providing. Heavy breaths escaped your chest, a constant ring in your ears, you could barely tell where you were, but one thing was clear, your lovers were not done with you.

You could feel them moving around you. This time Mingi was the one behind you, holding your knees against your chest, placing small kisses and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, his hands massaged your thighs gently.

“You did so good for us, sweetheart.” His fingers traced patterns in your bruised skin.

The familiar sound of the lubricant’s cap opening made you whimper; you had been conditioned to know what would happen next. Yunho and Mingi would always make sure to prepare you to take them, making you cum a couple of times before even trying anything, but tonight you just couldn’t wait, and neither could they.

“Are you ready, my love?” Yunho’s words made you tremble. You felt both their tips in your entrance, ready to claim you at the same time. Mingi kept his hands on your hips while the man in front of you caressed your legs, waiting for your permission to go on. Both of them slightly shaking with excitement and desperation.

“Yes.”

The sensation of being filled by them was overwhelming, but made you feel complete, whole, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Their movements were slow and hesitant, not wanting to hurt you. Mingi’s moans and whines filled your ears, his hands pinched your skin and his head was thrown back in ecstasy.

“Oh my god, yes, god yes!” He wasn’t concerned by the sounds that left his mouth, too busy enjoying the feeling of your warmth enveloping him.

Yunho wasn’t doing any better, groans constantly leaving his mouth, driving himself deeper inch by inch. His eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly opened, his eyes could only focus on the place where your bodies met and became one. The image of his and Mingi’s cock splitting you open wasn’t new, but goddamn was it the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

You closed your eyes, trying to control yourself. Pain and pleasure danced inside you, intertwining themselves and covering your entire being. Each thrust consumed you entirely, making your moans turn into screams, you could feel yourself teetering over the edge. The blonde´s fingers pushed on the small bud of nerves at your core making tears spill out of your eyes, while Yunho’s lips sucked your nipples raw.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moaned, his hips never relenting their hellish pace. And a single moment of clarity, his eyes met Mingi’s. The same look of need and lust covered his face, red cheeks and dazed eyes, cries escaping his mouth, a small I love you between them. With what little sanity he had left, he took the younger man’s head and pushed their heads in a kiss. their teeth clashing and tongues sucking on each other in ardour, both of them moaning because of the new stimulation.

“I’m going to cum!” You cried. An explosion of pleasure filled your system, as your body convulsed in ecstasy, making you almost pass out. Yunho and Mingi couldn’t hold back any longer, the tight knot snapped, joining you and spilling their seed inside you. Their essence and yours running down your thighs, ending up in the couch’s leather.

The three of you lay breathless, boneless, but complete. You had for once and for all found your way back to each other, and after what felt like an eternity, everything felt right.

____________________________________________

Taglist:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie @jeongwangjessmina @certifiedmoa @tenebrisirae @ddaeing @bratty-tingz @myshadowsbackstage @berryfiavoured @jkookiejiminlvr @yunsara @soobiverse @kyeos4ng @asjkdk @popcatx0 @yunho-leeknow @escape-from-realitys-stuff @thedistractedwriter @vsereniasstuff @sundayysunshine @queen-thiccness @toomuchtellyneck @daemon-bunny @hyuk4ngel @rxnexxi @daemon-bunny @toomuchtellyneck @queen-thiccness @queen-beanzzz @faesmingi @imcoenffl @fandom-freak-geek @sunnyhokyu @icouldntcareless22 @idfkeddieishot @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mellikestoread @harriy3nko @yvnhoos @shnstarlight @realviviboss @yeosangiess @astro-doll-the-star @smilefordongil

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #mingi angst #mingi smut #yunho x reader #yunho angst #yunho smut #song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez yungi #todomochi writes

274 notes · View notes

bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 11 months

Text

Scared Half to Death | Bucky Barnes x reader

Hi! I haven't posted a fic in forever. School has been a nightmare.

I literally wrote this in under an hour lol it's very short and not my best. But I just wanted to get something kinda Halloween-y out there in time to celebrate!

🎃👻🎃👻🎃Happy Halloween! 👻🎃👻🎃👻

Warnings: blood, Bucky's anxiety, injury

Bucky pulled his hand from the doorknob with a disgusted expression. A thick, sticky substance coated his palm and dotted his fingers. He rolled his eyes at whichever small child had covered his door handle in candy residue while he was gone. But just as he tried to wipe the syrupy remnants on his jeans, the color caught his eye. The flash of red sent shockwaves through his system.

He’d stepped away from the apartment for just a few minutes, only long enough to replenish his candy supply for the next wave of trick-or-treaters. But in the short time that he was gone, something terrible- something violent- must’ve taken place.

He dropped the candy to the floor and struggled to yank his keys from the lock, his hands shaking with anxiety. And when he finally burst through the door of the apartment he shared with you, he only found more carnage.

Droplets of blood dotted the floor. They coagulated against the tile and wormed their way into the grout, staining it red. Bucky’s stomach turned. A leaden knot formed in his gut and weighed him down like an anchor. Where were you? Was this your blood? Were you hurt- were you dead?

He followed the gruesome path like a trail of breadcrumbs, fearing what he’d find at their end. Only a few hours ago, everything was perfect. He’d sat with you as you got dressed for your best friend’s Halloween party. He rested on the bed you shared and delighted in watching you dance around the room as you did your make up and put on your costume.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” you asked as you shimmied into your costume.

“I’m sure, baby. It’s not really my thing,” he shrugged. “You know how I am with big crowds. Plus, Halloween is a little weird for me. People dress as my friends-” He swallowed hard, “people dress as a version of me that I try not to think about… it’s just not for me.”

“Yeah…”

Silence filled the room. Guilt coursed through your body with each beat of your heart. Part of you itched to change out of your costume and forget the whole thing.

“You know, I don’t have to go-”

Bucky stood from the bed and made his way to your side, “Yes, you do.”

A stern expression crossed your face, “I really don’t. And I shouldn’t ditch you for a stupid party-”

“You’re not ditching me,” he said. “You love this party! You look forward to Kelly’s-” he paused, struggling to remember the name of the shindig. “What does she call it again? Her Creep-Tastic?”

You laughed, “Spook-tacular!”

“Right!” Bucky rolled his eyes at his attempt. “You look forward to her Spook-Tacular every year! And I’m not gonna let you miss it just because I don’t wanna go.” He took your face in his hands, careful not to mess up your make up. Never had anyone made him felt so loved, so cared for. You put him first at every turn, prioritizing his wellbeing and his mental health above all else. You sacrificed so much for him in the early stages of your relationship; the last thing he wanted was for you to miss out on the party you’d looked forward to for the last eleven months.

“Seriously, doll, I’m gonna be fine. I’ll hand out candy to the kids and watch some tv,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

It wasn’t a trick or a test; Bucky didn’t secretly hope you’d choose him instead of the party. He only wanted you to be happy. And you knew he meant every word he said.

“Okay. Then tell me…” you did a quick spin, “how do I look?”

Bucky eyed you up and down, drinking in the neon pink and highlighter yellow leotard. The electric yellow kneepads. The pink visor. The bright yellow high-top sneakers.

“You look amazing, Barbie. You belong in the Dream House!”

Not soon after that, you left. He’d walked you to your Uber and made you promise to be safe. He’d told you that he loved you. And that was the last time he saw you.

Until now.

The trail of blood ended with you. Bucky discovered you sprawled on your back on the living room rug, your body soaked with blood. Smears of red coated your neck and stained your arms. Your clothes were saturated with gore. This Barbie didn’t belong in the Dream House; she belonged in a nightmare.

“Oh, god-” Bucky made his way to your side and sunk to his knees, breathless. “Baby, hey- can you hear me? Open your eyes, look at me-” His fingers traced your neck in search of a pulse, desperately scrounging for even a flutter of life.

And there it was- your pulse. You were still alive; your heart still managed to beat despite the blood loss.

But Bucky’s gratitude only lasted a moment. He still had to find your wound and stop the bleeding. He had to call 911. He had to keep your heart beating.

His hands scrounged across your abdomen in search of a stab wound or evidence of a gunshot. But just as he reached for your side, you made a sound.

Did he heard that right? Did you… giggle?

“Whaaaaaaat’re you doin’, Barnes?” you laughed. “Don’t tickle meeeee!”

Bucky’s gaze shot from your blood-soaked clothes to your face. “Baby?”

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Barbie!” you slurred, your face plastered with a smile. “Oh, nooooo- wait, you’re just Ken!” A fit of laughter exploded from your chest as you sang, “I’mmm juuuuust KEN! Anywhere elssssse, I’d beeee a TEN-” A sudden contemplative look banished your lighthearted spirit. “But you reeeeally are a ten, Buck… and I mean that.”

Bucky remained frozen. He was lost, confused. Were you woozy from blood loss? Or alcohol? Were you even hurt? Did you need an ambulance or a cold shower?

“Baby, are you hurt? Are you okay?” He took your face in his hands, “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Because this Barbie hugged her friend!”

A befuddled expression took over Bucky's face. "What?"

The room spun as you struggled to sit up. Bucky’s heart leapt into his throat; if you were hurt, you needed to lie down. You needed to stop moving and let him dress your wound. But you moved without wincing, without crying out in pain. Sure, you swayed from side to side just a little in your intoxicated state. But that was the worst of it.

“I huuuuuugged Kelly! But Kelly was aaactually Carrie! Y’know, the girl covered in pig’s blood,” you laughed. “It kiiiinda ruined my costume a little. Buut, now I look like Scary Barbie! So s’okay.”

A deep sigh of relief filled Bucky’s lungs. He rocked back off of his knees and plopped down onto his butt. His bloody hands covered his face. “Then what are you doing on the floor, sweetheart?”

“Sometiiiiimes… sometimes ya just gotta lay on the floor. Y’know?” You shrugged, “And I didn’t wanna get allllll the blood on the couch.”

He nodded.

"I guess I fell asleep for a hot sec," you shrugged. "I was just waiting on ya to get home."

Bucky did his best to regulate his breathing, to calm the aggressive tsunami of anxiety that drowned his every cell. His entire world came crashing down the moment he found you on the floor, and now, he had to put it back together.

“You okay, Buck? I came home early cause I missed yooou- I missed you sooooo much,” you placed a bloodied hand on his face. “But I didn’t mean to ruin your night to yourself. I’m sorry…”

“No, you didn’t ruin anything. It’s not that at all. It’s- baby, I thought…” he shook his head. “I thought you were hurt. I thought you were…” He didn’t want to finish his sentence.

“Ohhhhh no, I’m fine! I’m okay! I’m druuuunk…” you laughed, “But I’m okay!”

Bucky pulled you close, grateful that the blood clinging to your skin came out of a bottle. "I know that now, I'm just..." he took a deep breath. "It's just gonna take a minute for my body to catch up with my brain." He let his hand roam up and down your spine. He needed to feel you breathe, feel your voice vibrate against his palm. Seeing you like that- bloody and unresponsive- on the floor of the home you shared nearly scared him to death.

This wasn't the kind of Halloween scare that flooded your system with pins and needles and left you laughing. No, this stripped him of all breath, of all ability to think. It cut him to the bone.

He never wanted to imagine you getting hurt, about you getting killed. For him, losing your was a fate worse than death.

The two of you sat there together in the quiet calm as Bucky remembered how to breathe. He held onto you as tightly as he could without leaving bruises, and didn't care than you'd stained his white shirt with your gory mess.

“I’m glad you’re home, doll. And that you’re okay," he said after his heart returned to its normal pacing. "I just- I didn’t expect Bloody Barbie.”

You shrugged, “no one ever does.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh that echoed off the walls and made your heart flutter. “Alright, we need to clean you up and get you to bed, baby. I think we’ve both had enough Halloween shenanigans for the year.”

You allowed him to help you to your feet and guide you to the bathroom for a much needed shower. He was always there for you when you needed him, even without you asking. You knew he'd protect you, do anything for you- he'd even scrub fake blood from your nail beds.

"Buck?" you whispered as he helped you into bed.

"Yeah, baby?"

"You're soooo much better than Ken."

He knew it was a genuine, drunken compliment, but it nearly made him burst out laughing. "Thank you, doll. Yeah, I prefer Allan anyway."

"Saaaaaaame," you sighed, melting into your pillow.

Bucky tucked the covers around you and made sure your water was within reach. He placed a kiss to your forehead, once again thanking his lucky stars that you were home safe.

"Goodnight, Barbie."

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

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

697 notes · View notes

mikavlcs · 1 year

Text

Static Patterns

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Wednesday’s struggling to say those three special words, so she decides to instead show you how she feels.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday(!!!), reader’s kinda unserious, sorry

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: this was requested by @beauty-in-the-brkdwn, hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist

Never in her life had Wednesday felt more stupid than she did now.

Mere months ago, she had faced and overcome unthinkable odds, defeating an undead pilgrim and saving the entirety of Nevermore from destruction. A feat she pulled off with moderate ease.

And now here she was being bested by something as trivial as words.

It was humiliating to think about, even conceptually. That she—an aspiring writer—was struggling with words. A communicative tool she had mastered using before the age of five. This was even worse when paired with the fact that what she was struggling to say was so torturously simple.

Three words. Eight letters.

A phrase that millions were able to say in passing and yet the thought of actually saying those words to you was somehow more daunting than the Hyde and Crackstone combined.

It shouldn’t have been, she knew that. Her candor was one of her defining features, a thing of pride even. But when combined with everything they symbolize, those three syllables suddenly weighed a thousand pounds on her tongue.

She tried and failed multiple times and as bitter as defeat tasted, she had no choice but to swallow it down and rethink her strategy.

Thus, a new, different approach was taken. After all, they did say that actions spoke louder than words. One of the most fundamental rules when writing was show don’t tell. So she settled for showing you how she felt rather than vocalizing it.

It started small with something as small and insignificant as breakfast. One morning she decided to procure a bowl of your favorite cereal and another, smaller bowl of assorted fruits.

You would always whine about how they were gone by the time you got there—which was entirely your fault, seeing as you arrived nearly ten minutes after everyone else did—so she figured this was a good place to start.

The excitement on your face as you took your place next to her told her she was correct.

From there it branched out slowly, like roots growing within soil.

She would take your books from you and carry them while she escorted you to your classes—even the ones she didn’t attend with you. It made your commutes much easier since nobody dared step into Wednesday’s way while she marched through the halls.

Stealing snacks for you from the kitchen became a daily occurrence. And with a few well-executed threats, she was able to take them free of charge. They were left in your locker, Wednesday feigning surprise when you found them, but you both knew the truth.

When you mournfully showed her the C+ you got on your Botany test she demanded politely offered to tutor you.

It even got to the point where she was willing to indulge in what she would consider blasphemy—physical touch.

This specific form of affection was something she vehemently avoided, its alleged pleasures something that eluded her. But you abstained for the sake of her comfort, so she would be willing to put forth an effort for the sake of yours.

It wasn’t much, but sometimes at lunch when she was absolutely sure no one was paying attention, she would tentatively cross her pinky with yours. And when you sat across from her at the Weathervane, she lightly rested her hand over yours.

She would admit—never aloud—that it wasn’t terrible.

You noticed the abrupt shift in her behavior, of course. The first few times you let it be, curious glances in her direction your only acknowledgment of the situation.

But eventually, the questions started, and Wednesday being always prepared, had her answers ready on her tongue.

“Your complaints about these being gone every morning are tiresome, so I got them for you since you can’t be bothered to show up on time.”

“Your feeble arms looked like they were struggling more than usual. The pitiful display has gotten rather boring.”

“These grades are not reflective of your limited intellectual abilities, it’s disappointing. I’ll fix that.”

Her snark never had much effect on you, so the excuses always earned an honest, if a bit bewildered chuckle from you (though she swore she could see fear in your eyes after that last one). But you didn’t question her further.

If she were to hazard a guess, she would say that you refused to inquire about her actions because you were afraid she would stop upon confrontation. And she knew you didn’t want that.

It was clear to her that you were enjoying her efforts. You were always a more inherently joyful person than her, but she had never seen as many smiles and blushes from you as she did these past few weeks. It was a pleasant thing to witness, she supposed.

And perhaps, somewhere deep down in the dark recesses of her mind, she was enjoying it as well.

You were late, like usual.

The Saturday study sessions she set up were scheduled to start at 12:30, meaning that you would arrive at 12:40. Your chronic tardiness was something that was so deeply ingrained that even she couldn’t correct it. She had long since given up trying.

She instead used the extra time to her advantage.

Opposite of you, she arrived every Saturday at 12:20 on the dot, preferring to be early so she could secure her favorite booth in the back of the café. The time before you arrived was used to plan out the lessons she would cover with you and color-coordinate her notes to make sure they were easy for you to understand.

The usual medium hot chocolate you ordered was placed on your side of the table, steam rising steadily from the top, but a new addition was the croissant she decided to order alongside it on a whim. You would appreciate it, she knew, you were always hungry.

At exactly 12:40, she heard the bell on the door chime and the familiar sound of your footsteps followed. She fought against the urge to straighten up and look back at you, gluing her eyes to the notes she was organizing.

There was movement in her peripherals as you slid into her sightline, the crooked grin on your face immediately identifiable, even out of focus. “Hey.”

“Hello,” she greeted evenly, sparing you only a glance as she pushed the pastry further over in your direction. Naturally, your eyes followed the movement and lit up comically once you spotted the food.

“For me?” you asked rather redundantly, the beginnings of a smile pulling at your lips.

Wednesday gave you a blank stare. “You’re the only other person at this table.”

That stupid, stunning smile only widened. You picked the croissant up and took a bite, never breaking eye contact with her. “Thanks, Wen.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, running her eyes over the expanse of your face. Then, “Now, open your textbook to page 274.”

Your face dropped but you obeyed.

Thirty minutes were spent taking notes and going over terms. A great use of the early afternoon in Wednesday’s opinion, though she knew your feelings would differ vastly.

You were focused on working for all of ten minutes before you started sending her long, blatantly obvious glances from across the table.

At the fifth consecutive look in a row, she decided to confront you. “If you have something to say then say it.”

You didn’t seem surprised to be called out, but you still took a minute to delve into your concerns. “What…is all of this?”

She paused her writing, glanced up briefly. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”

“Yeah, sorry that was vague,” you apologized, lightly shaking your head. “I mean all of these things you’ve been doing for these past few weeks—carrying my books, getting me my favorite foods at school, helping me study, and now buying me things…I love it, really but I don’t want you to do this because you think you need to-“

“I don’t,” she interrupted. “I do nothing out of an abstract sense of obligation, you know this.”

She didn’t have to see you to know that you were smiling. “Yes, I do. I just want to make sure that you know you don’t have to do all of this if you don’t want to.”

You were giving her an out. An unnecessary one, but the thought managed to be both touching and offensive. That you would sacrifice something that you are clearly enjoying for her was…courteous.

But the fact that you could possibly that she—Wednesday Addams—was doing anything for someone else because she “felt as if she had to” was nauseating and it needed to be fixed immediately.

“I do. Want to,” she said, her normally seamless cadence stunted as she tried to phrase her thoughts in a way that wasn’t painfully embarrassing. “I’m attempting to express the depth of my…feelings toward you.”

“Feelings? And what exactly do you feel for me?” Your tone was sincere, but there was a hint of smugness in it. Like you already knew the answer to your question.

“Disdain, at the moment,” she deadpanned as her mind receded elsewhere.

If she were to stop talking now, she knew you would drop it and take the win for what it was, but, strangely, she didn’t want to stop. The repulsive desire to open up pulled at her and she couldn’t help but lament the devastating effects that these cursed feelings continued to have on her.

Wednesday accepted her fate, took a deep breath, and swallowed her pride.

“In all seriousness, I…don’t hate you,” she ground out. “At all. Quite the opposite actually. And I felt it was important to let you know that, even if it was only through small, inane gestures.”

There was a moment of silence. Then another, and another. Unable to resist, Wednesday lifted her eyes to you and found that you looked positively awestruck. Eyes wide, brows raised, and lips parted. Utterly speechless.

She drank in the admittedly rare sight.

Slowly, the astonishment abated, and a wide, unruly grin crept onto your face. She knew right then that you were about to make her regret her confession.

“Awww,” you cooed, and, to her horror, you moved forward to press a warm kiss to her cheek.

Wednesday grimaced and glanced around to make sure that there were no witnesses to your display of affection.

Thankfully, it seemed that no one had seen or if they had, they made the smart decision to look away before she gauged their eyes out.

She turned back and glared at you with as much murderous intent as she could muster, trying to seem utterly disgusted with your behavior. But she knew the undeniable burning in her cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

Giggling, you sat back, reaching over to thread your fingers together with hers. Your smile tempered, softening around the edges until only tenderness and an emotion that she was becoming all too familiar with remained.

You leaned forward again, and this time, she was too enraptured to bother looking around.

“I love you too, Wednesday.”

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega

1K notes · View notes

mynameismckenziemae · 6 months

Text

Underestimated

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x You/Reader/OFC

Summary: Being mistreated isn’t uncommon for a woman working in a male-dominated field, but Bob isn’t going to let it slide when he witnesses it happen to you.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, military/mechanical inaccuracies (I’m assuming), misogyny, etc.

——————————————————————————

For as long as you can remember, people (men) have underestimated you. Starting with your older brothers thinking you were an easy target, though they quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Next, your math teacher overlooked your intelligence because you were female. Your guidance counselor tried to persuade you away from the Navy after graduation because you weren’t tough enough for the military. The RDC laughed in your face the first day of boot camp, saying someone of your stature would never make it through; it sure felt good to see the smile fall from his face when you received ‘Outstanding’ marks in your physical readiness test.

But just because you were used to being underestimated; doesn’t mean it doesn’t get old.

It’s been two months since relocating to your hometown to be the lead aviation structural mechanic of North Island and none of the men you oversee have warmed up to you. The look of disappointment on your crew’s faces when you were introduced was obvious; your name was gender-neutral so they were counting on a male. You hadn’t expected them to befriend you, but you did expect respect; which was definitely lacking.

“A little help over here,” you call out, struggling to not lose your grip on the intake part you were trying to replace.

“Hello? Can someone help me?” You ask again a few minutes later, muscles trembling as it slides further off your shoulder. Not only would it hurt like a bitch if it lands on you, but it’s also not a cheap part if it bends or breaks.

“Equal pay for equal work, sweetheart. You can’t do the work yourself, you shouldn’t be here,” Jackson, the smug asshole, replies while the others chuckle in agreement.

“Fuck,” you grit out, trying not to panic as it begins to fall. But strong hands are helping you guide it into place. The same hands that have been on your mind since he dwarfed yours when he shook it on your first day.

Your attraction to the rest of him has only grown in the time since, along with your feelings; you adore his sweet, quiet demeanor. Natasha keeps telling you he feels the same way about you, but you haven’t built up the nerve yet to make a move.

“I’ll hold it here while you attach it,” Bob says softly near your ear. Your heart races as you do so, getting close enough that you can smell his signature leather and clean laundry scent.

Bob’s brows furrow as he watches your arms shake from the exertion. “How long were you holding this up?”

“About 5 minutes,” you reply, catching him shaking his head from the corner of your eye.

You’re done a moment later, sighing in relief when you put your arms down.

“Thanks,” you say as you set down your screwdriver and wipe your hands. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in his flight suit.

“No problem. Why didn’t you ask for help?” He asks as he wipes off his own.

“I did,” you sigh. “The boys here uh…aren’t too fond of me being their supervisor.”

“Why not?” He asks, perplexed.

“Because I’m a woman,” you reply with a shrug. “They don’t think I’m right for the job because I ask for help with lifting sometimes. Among other thing so I’m sure.”

His expression quickly turns angry.

“What’s up, Floyd?” Jackson says, smacking Bob on the shoulder. “If you need something worked on, you’re better off coming to me.”

“Why’s that?” Bob asks, shrugging his hand off and turning around.

“Come on, you know a woman’s place is in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant,” Jackson jokes.

But you’re not laughing. Neither is Bob.

“A woman’s place is wherever the hell she wants it to be, Jackson. I know you’re an idiot but I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to say something like that in front of me, but also your female commanding officer. I haven’t been impressed with the way you,” he stops and looks at the rest of the guys that have gathered around, “any of you have been treating her since she started but refusing to help her is going against direct orders. Not only could she have been injured, but the part she was holding costs more than a year’s salary for you.”

He steps closer to Jackson as he continues. “I’ll leave it up to her if she wants to report it, but if I ever see you disrespect her again, you’ll have to deal with me.”

You’re suddenly feeling hot and flustered as the crush you’ve been harboring intensifies as sweet, shy Bob defends your honor.

Jackson visibly gulps, nodding before he looks at you.

“Go home for the day,” you say with a glance at the clock before you begin to clean up your bay. “All of you are dismissed.”

“Look, I’m sorry-“ Jackson starts but you cut him off.

“Save it, Jackson,” you sigh. “I’m not going to report you, but I will if it happens again.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies before scurrying away.

Bob follows you as you wash your hands in the sink, scrubbing the grease off. “Sorry, if I overstepped. I know you’re more than capable of standing up for yourself. I just can’t-“ he starts but you interrupt him as you dry your hands.

“You didn’t overstep. I appreciate it,” you assure him as you look over his shoulder to make sure everyone’s gone.

You take a step closer, bringing a hand up to play with the zipper of his flight suit.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you pull him to you for a kiss.

He freezes as your lips touch his, but only for a moment before he kisses you back; the tension that’s been building snapping in an instant.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he breathes as you kiss down his neck, groaning as you nip his collarbone.

“Me too,” you murmur against his neck before pulling back to take his hand. “Come on.”

You lead him to the parts room, unlocking the door and pushing him against it once closed, gasping into the kiss when you feel his thick erection pressing against your stomach.

He groans when your hand finds him next, palming him through his flight suit. You shiver before pulling down the zipper, wanting more of those delicious sounds.

“What are-oh God,” he sighs when you fall to your knees, flicking your tongue over the wet spot on his boxerbriefs to taste the precum.

“Wanna taste you,” you say, hands pausing by the waistband of his briefs. “Can I?”

You continue when he nods, gulping when his size is revealed to you. “So big,” you murmur, meeting his eyes as you lean forward to lick the precum beading.

“Fuck,” he whispers before his head falls back against the door with a thump and his hands fist at his sides when you suck him into your mouth.

You bring a hand up to stroke what can’t fit in your mouth and unzip your own coveralls with the other, slipping inside and between your legs to give yourself some relief. Your eyes fall close with a moan as you circle your clit.

“Oh-oh my God,” he gasps when you moan, his eyes zeroing in on what your hand is doing. “Are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes open and take in his wrecked expression before you hum around him.

“Ah…w-wait,” he pants, guiding you off him and to your feet. “I almost-I don’t wanna cum yet.”

You smile as he spins you, pressing you to the door. You shiver as he leaves wet kisses down your neck and whimper when he sucks your nipple through the thin material of your sports bra.

“Next time,” you promise, stopping him as he starts to kneel. “Right now I want you inside me.”

He inhales sharply at your words and nods as he reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a giggle as he puts it under the light while you slip your coveralls off.

“Making sure it’s not expired,” he replies with a chuckle. “It’s been in my wallet for a few years. It’s good for a few more months yet.”

“Good,” you reply, watching as he rolls it on.

You wrap your legs around his waist when he lifts you and lines himself up to your entrance.

Your mouth finds his as he pushes inside you, and you whimper at the sweet stretch.

“You feel like heaven” he whispers before trailing kisses to your shoulder as you adjust, withdrawing to push back in when you’re ready.

Now it’s your head that thunks against the door as he fucks into you at a steady pace, grunting softly into your neck with each deep thrust.

He pulls back to watch you through lust-heavy eyes as he wets his ring and pointer fingertips before sliding them between you to circle your clit. “Feel good?” He asks, voice husky.

“So good,” you moan, clenching around him as your release starts to build.

“Good,” he nods, “I want you to cum for me, can you do that?”

“Y-yes! Fuck, I’m close,” you whine, your hands scrambling to find purchase on his shoulders as your orgasm rapidly approaches.

He leans in for another kiss and the change of the angle is all it takes for you to fall over the edge with a throaty moan.

Bob’s hips stutter and he fills the condom with a deep groan when you clench rhythmically around him.

He sets you down gently once you’ve caught your breath, making sure you’re steady on your feet before removing the condom. You pull your underwear back on while he zips up his suit.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks as he kneels, helping you step back into your uniform.

“I have a date with a load of laundry,” you joke. “Why, what’s up?”

“Think it’d be upset if you rescheduled?” He asks, leaning forward to press a kiss just above your bare knee, then halfway up your thigh as he pulls up the fabric. “You said I could do this,” he places a wet kiss to your clit through your underwear before continuing to rise, “next time. So I was thinking I could pick up takeout and we could have ‘next time’ tonight?”

“I like the way you think,” you reply with a smile, leading the way out of the hangar.

——————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you @lexixstewart for the idea (again!) You have such good ideas! I hope you like it!

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Sorry if you’re not a Bob girly, but I’ll add my taglist here:

@mamamaystbr

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

@86laura11

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@dempy

@angelbabyyy99

@buckysteveloki-me

@djs8891

@mizzzpink

@daggerspare-standingby

@mrsevans90

@littlezee80

@emma8895eb

@jessicab1991

@devil-angel-winchester

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x ofc #robert bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x you #top gun maverick

262 notes · View notes

wosoamazing · 8 months

Text

Williamson v Williamson

Summary: It’s the Semi-Final Match against England, you’re playing against your sister for the first time, you lose, but an absolute legend wants your shirt.

A/N: Just a short one, can’t decide if I like it or not but oh well. (Tried to keep it as real as possible but obviously some things are fictional)

Today’s match was a monumental one, not just on a team level but on a personal level. Today was the Matildas’ Semi-Final match against the Lionesses, it was make or break. It also meant you would be versing your sister today, someone would finish the game better off than the other.

The game was going well, you were even, 2 all, you and Sam had both managed to score and so had Ella Toone and Lauren Hemp, it was looking like a large chuck of added time would be needed and then possibly penalties, that was until Alessia Russo scored England’s third goal in the 86th minute, that was it, there was no way you could come back from that now.

The final whistle blew, and you just collapse onto the ground, you played so well and tried so incredibly hard, but it wasn’t enough. Your team isn’t going to the gold medal match now, there is no guarantee of a medal, all because you couldn’t get a second goal past Mary Earps. The media and public caught many heart-warming moments of Lionesses comforting their fellow Aussie club teammates, Aussies comforting Aussies, but the moment that had grappled the world’s attention was when, one of the Lionesses defender’s and their goalkeeper sat down on the pitch either side of the youngest player of the match, a young Matilda, a complete stranger, club rivals if anything. However, they weren’t strangers, they had been to your house many times, they were your sister’s friends but somehow no one had thought about that. However, them not being strangers doesn’t lessen their gesture in anyway though.

Mary Earps and Millie Bright had come to comfort you, they sat down either side of you, “Hi,” you mumbled to them, wondering if they heard you as your head was in your hands.

“You’re a good player kid, you-” Mary started speaking but was interrupted by you “Obviously not good enough though, I wasn’t good enough score another fucking goal, a single goal” you yelled.

“Hey, none of that, you know you had the most attempts and the most shots on target for the whole game, they said it could even be for the whole tournament, you were fucking incredible,” Millie told you as she pulled you in for a hug.

“You truly tested my abilities today Kid you did really really well, and you should be proud of yourself, one of the hardest strikers to keep for I would say.”

“Thank guys, I’m sorry for yelling, you both played really well today too, well at least Mary did” your comment sent the three of you into fits of laughter, you then chatted to them for a few more minutes, they were friends after all, and even though you did just loose to them you hadn’t seen them in ages.

“We better go,” Millie said as she saw your sister walking over to you “But first, can I swap shirts with you kid?”

“Sorry Millie, but there’s already a shirt with my name on it,” you nodded you head in the direction of your sister.

“I see what you did there, Leah’s not wrong about you being smart too” Mary said as she grabbed your hand to pull you up.

“What can I say, I can’t help being the better Williamson,” “Shit, I think someone heard that, run” Marry said to Millie as she started running.

“I must admit today you were the better Williamson,” you hear you sister’s voice say as she placed a hand on your shoulder and turned you around, “Now, I think that shirt is mine, it does have my name on it after all,” she joked, you both quickly took off you shirts before putting the others on, you both posed for some photos, before you were called over for an interview.

“Well, I think it’s time we let you go, best not miss the team huddle” “Yeah probs shouldn’t miss that one might get in a bit of trouble, thank you it was great chatting with you” “Likewise good luck”

“I think yellow looks better on you,” Tony said as you joined the team.

“Yeah, so do I,” “Well, I’m relieved, saw you talking to Sarina before, got a little worried.”

“Too bad you already gave your shirt away, Beckham messaged me, asked if I reckoned he could have your shirt, he was thinking about coming down from the box,” Sam said, she had a serious tone in her voice so you couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but then you caught your sister talking to a guy out of the corner of your eye, it was the David Beckham.

“Wait, you’re not joking, you’re being real” Sam nodded, “Shit, I need to go get my shirt back from my sister,”

“Nah, it’s all good, he said he’ll just make sure to get your Bronze Medal mat-” “Girls focus, I’m pretty sure I’m more excited about Beckham than you are but can we just debrief quickly?” Tony said cutting Sam off.

“So, I guess this isn’t a good time then?” an ever so familiar voice said as a pair of hands you could recognise from a mile away were place on your shoulders. Everyone looked to the person standing behind you, you didn’t bother you knew exactly who he was, “Tony, if you don’t mind, maybe they’ll listen to the real DB,” you internally cringe at those words, when you were little you idolised Beckham so instead of saying MVP or the real VP as some might say you instead insisted on saying the real DB, you hadn’t heard it in years, luckily your family forgot about it, but obviously someone remembered and told him.

“Take it away,”

“Girls, wait move over let me in,” you all shuffled and he slotted in between you and Charli. “Okay let me start again. Girls you played amazingly today, but you were outplayed, your attempts were good, there were some I can’t believe she managed to save let alone believe they were from a sixteen-year-old,” you blushed “but some of them were too clumsy, a lot of those shots could’ve gone in if they had more power behind them, you hesitated to much, questioned whether you should pass or shoot, your decisions need to be instantaneous, but overall amazing work, great defending and great goal keeping, its England you are always going to concede to England especially to that team right there, their hungry and so are you but you know what the difference is, they believe they can’t get there but I’m not fully convinced you lot are. Great game though, very entertaining, thanks girls, and thanks to the real DB, I’m hoping I get picked for the shirt next game” he said to you, you nod at him, before heading down the tunnel.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt

345 notes · View notes

1-imaginary-girl · 1 year

Text

Annoying 2

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Five and Y/N are now partners. They’ve been assigned their first official mission as a team. But when the plan derails, the two find themselves facing a choice that might change the course of their new partnership. Reader is gender-neutral.

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 5113

Part 1

A/N: This was originally going to be an independent one-shot, but there were so many requests for more “Annoying” content I decided to switch things up. If anyone has any suggestions or requests for what to do to continue this series, I would greatly appreciate it.

Reader’s POV

“Have you completely memorized your character sheet?” Five shouts from another room. You’re currently putting the finishing touches on your disguise in the washroom of your shared hotel room. And thankfully, the Handler assigned the two of you separate beds. Your face heats up thinking of a different situation.

“Yes, Five, believe it or not, this isn’t my first time undercover,” you shout back. You smile, knowing he's probably rolling his eyes at you.

This is yours and Five's first official mission together as partners. Just the sentence makes you want to squeal. But you have to keep yourself professional tonight. You want to show Five just how good an agent, and a partner, you could be.

There was a bit of prep and training before tonight as neither you nor Five has had a partner before and the Handler doesn’t respond well to mistakes. It was simple tests to ensure that the two of you were suitable to be partners, such as practicing combat as a duo, reviewing boring company documents, and there was even a training video called “How to be the Ideal Partner” which Five immediately tried to walk out of before the Handler reminded him it was required.

All of this extra work worried you that Five would change his mind about being your partner, especially since you weren’t even sure what finally convinced him to do it in the first place. But to your surprise and delight, Five stuck through it with bearable complaining.

You touch up your face and adjust a few stray hairs before feeling satisfied. You stand back and take a look at yourself. The look is a bit bold but you remind yourself that you are no longer Y/N L/N but rather Sam Palinski. A bit of an average name, but the point was not to stick out.

You’re not sure if the Handler did this on purpose, but the outfit chosen for “Sam” cuts quite the figure. It hugs your body a bit tighter than what you would normally wear, but you remind yourself to be confident. In fact, you look pretty hot. The outfit isn’t perfect for hand-to-hand combat, but the objective was to avoid as much conflict as possible. Thankfully, you are wearing shoes that double in comfort as well as looks.

The details of your character sheet rattle off in your mind. You shouldn’t need to know too much, just enough to hold a conversation, but you were prepared nonetheless.

“I would prefer to get there on time,” Five shouts. This time it’s you who’s rolling your eyes.

“Calm down, I’m coming,” you say. After one final look at yourself and a whisper of encouragement, you exit the washroom. “Besides, it’s always better to be fashionably late, don’t you think?”

You look up and are struck by the image of Five Hargreeves in a tuxedo. While he’s normally seen in a suit and tie, the look of him in a proper suit with his hair combed back sets your heart aflutter more than usual. He locks eyes with you and you think you see his eyes widen. You try to portray an act of confidence as he surveys your look.

“Well, what do you think?” you say while outstretching your arms. Your smile brings his eyes back up to your face.

“You look…adequate,” he says before clearing his throat and turning away. You don’t know what you expected, but something in you deflates. You think you hear him mutter, “Not very inconspicuous” but you brush it off.

“Just what every person wants to hear.” Suddenly you feel awkward with Five’s back to you so you inch closer to gauge a reaction out of him. “So, are you ready to make our debut, Mr. Palinski?”

Five scowls to himself while taking a step away. “I don’t see why the Handler had to make our identities married to one another.” You’re used to Five’s grumpiness. You never let it affect you because you know that’s just the way he is. But sometimes you think there might be another side to him. And a part of you keeps hoping that he’ll show you that side more. But you already got him to agree to be your partner. You got what you wanted from him, right?

“Because a married couple is more discreet than two eligible singles, especially when I look like this.” You give a twirl and wink at the boy. His face is flushed, probably from frustration. He’s cute when he’s frustrated.

“We should get going.” You roll your eyes at his abruptness.

“Fine. After you, husband.” You receive one more scowl for the road.

After a short drive where Five continued to shut down your attempts to sing along to the radio, you pull up to the target’s location. The target is hosting a soiree at their ginormous mansion which is how Five and you will be able to slip in amongst the attendants.

Even though you knew what the mansion looked like since the two of you surveyed the area prior to tonight, the size still blows you away. You wonder what it would take for you to live in a mansion like this.

Driving past the front gate, you arrive in front of the doors. There is a valet stationed to help you out of the car. You thank them and take in the scene before you. Five rounds the car after handing the keys over to the valet and stands beside you.

He starts to walk in when you see a security guard with no doubt a guest list. You quickly loop your arm through Five’s and hold tight when he tries to pull away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses at you. You roll your eyes.

“We’re supposed to be married and that involves acting like it,” you hiss back. “Haven’t you ever done undercover work?”

He tosses a glare your way. “Yes but normally I’m on my own,” he whispers. And then under his breath says, “Which I’m starting to miss right about now.”

You ignore his negativity and simply pull him along with you. The two of you give your names to the security guard, and after presenting I.D., you are let in. One reason you love working in the field is the various places you get to travel. Rich targets are your favourite because they always have the most extravagant homes.

You look around in awe as you take in the place. Immediately there’s a golden chandelier above you in the entryway. Just a little further you can see into the ballroom and your excitement doubles. “Come on,” you say to Five without giving him a glance and dragging him over to the room.

“Slow down, you’re going to tear my arm off.” His complaint goes in one ear and out the other as you stumble into the room. People dressed in their most expensive clothing populate the room. There are tables and such off to the sides where some are conversing, but it’s the middle of the room that catches your eye. There, people are dancing the waltz, and you compare the sight to a dazzling teacup ride as they move round and round in circles, the girls twirling their dresses in various colours while the men take the lead.

“We should spread out, try to blend in with the crowd before making a move to recover the flash drive,” Five says while scanning the area. Your mission was to recover a stolen flash drive that the target swiped from the Commission. The target is an ex-employee and a bitter one at that. The flash drive contains confidential information about the Commission, specifically compromising details about their agents. That includes Five and yourself.

You know the mission is an important one, but you can’t help but feel drawn to the dance floor. You want to get swept away into your secret identity and for one night blend in with this society of high-class, beautiful-looking people.

“We should dance,” you blurt out.

“We absolutely should not.” He looks at you incredulously. But you don’t care.

“Come on Five—”

“Y/N, we’re supposed to be blending in not standing out.”

“But isn’t the best hiding spot in plain sight?” You look at him with your best attempt at a puppy dog face. Despite his lack of human emotion, he does look away from you.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” It becomes clear to you that he won’t budge and you would either have to drag him kicking and screaming onto the dance floor or let it go. Or a third, more devious option.

“Fine. We should split up, talk to different people.”

“Don’t blow our cover by talking too much,” he warns you with a serious look on his face.

“Who, me?” You give him one last cheeky smile before heading towards the right side of the room.

You scour the crowd of well-dressed people looking for someone to execute your plan with. There are plenty of eligible bachelors, but your eyes land on one in particular. You can’t believe your luck, but there, standing on his own, is the host. He’s also the one who stole the flash drive. You straighten your back and quickly saunter over to him before anyone else can scoop him up.

“What’s a handsome man like yourself doing all alone?” you ask as you saddle up next to him. The man turns to you and smiles.

“Apparently, I was waiting for you.” Despite yourself, you blush. It isn’t often you get this kind of attention.

“Sam Palinski, pleasure to meet you,” you say.

“Michael Lynell, and I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” You feign shock at the name.

“You’re the host?”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, you certainly know how to throw an event,” you say, gazing out at the sea of people and the intricate, beautiful décor.

“Thank you, I do hope you’re enjoying your time so far.”

“Absolutely.”

A pause. “Are you unaccompanied tonight?” he asks. Smooth move.

“Actually, I’m here with my husband,” you say. You try and fail to spot Five amongst the crowd. Michael only then seems to notice your (fake) wedding ring. His face shows mild disappointment.

“Ah, I see.” He seems a bit defeated before perking up and regaining his charming attitude. “Do you think your husband would mind if I asked his lovely spouse for a dance?” he asks. You’re surprised you didn’t have to ask him, but are excited nonetheless.

“Not at all.” Michael holds out his hand and you take it, following him onto the floor as a new song begins. Michael takes the lead and you’re perfectly content to follow.

“You’re quite the dancer, Mr. Lynell,” you say, feeling giddy to be dancing for the first time in a while.

“Only because I have such a good partner,” he says with a wink. You bite your lip to keep from smiling too much. The man is rather cute, and perhaps if he wasn’t your current enemy, you could see yourself actually pursuing him.

Just as you allow yourself to get swept up into the dance, your eyes flicker down from Michael’s gaze to the crowd. Suddenly, your eyes lock onto Five’s as he stares at you from across the room, and there’s a look there that you don’t recognize. You look away, trying to ignore him for the time being. There’s no use in entertaining that idea. You shake off any ill-conceived hopes and continue with your fantasy.

Before the song is over, however, Five appears next to you which gives you a start. His eyes are on Michael as he taps the man on the shoulder. Michael turns to him, just as startled.

“Mind if I cut in to dance with my spouse?” Five asks him with anger laced in his tone. It must be your silly imagination, but you could have sworn he emphasized the last two words.

Michael recovers from his surprise and returns to his charming host persona. “Of course,” he says. He then turns to you. “It was a pleasure, Palinski.”

You nod with a smile as he weaves through the crowd and disappears from your sight. You’re drawn back as Five repositions you to dance with him. You are bewildered by his actions. “What are you doing?” you ask as he prepares himself.

“Dancing,” he says, as if it was a stupid question. Then the two of you begin to dance as if nothing happened. You stare at him, trying to figure him out, but he’s determined to stare at the top of your head instead.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t dance,” you say with narrowed eyes. But his expressionless face doesn’t waver.

“I said we shouldn’t dance, but since you’ve chosen to ignore my advice, you leave me no choice but to keep up appearances or risk blowing our cover,” he says, all calculating and professional. “After all, married couples typically dance together, do they not?”

Again, you thought you heard an emphasis on the word “together”. So, you pull on that thread. “I was doing just fine dancing with our host.” Then you see it. Five flinches at your words. Your confusion only grows.

“And just what were you doing interacting with our enemy?” He finally meets your gaze as if looking for something.

“Blending in.”

“By making lasting impressions? We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile,” he snipes.

“Relax, I doubt it was a lasting impression.” Five looks as if he wants to argue but decides against it.

“It was a risk nonetheless.” You almost argue back but stop yourself. You don’t want to argue. You’re right where you want to be: dancing at a fancy event, and with Five himself no less. You decide to just let yourself enjoy it.

A few moments of silence pass over the two of you before you speak up again, this time with a teasing tone. “I didn’t expect Five Hargreeves to be such a good dancer.” He meets your eyes again and your breath catches. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice.

“My father trained us in ballroom dancing. Said it would help with our coordination, or something about dancing being an important skill,” he says, and as he talks there’s a far-off look in his eyes. “He was old-fashioned like that.”

You try not to get excited about all that you’ve learned about Five so far. He said us, which suggests he has siblings and the words “trained” and “coordination” seem to suggest more teachings than a regular father would give.

“He sounds like an interesting fellow,” you comment. Five snorts derivatively.

“That’s one way to describe him.” You don’t want to push him for more information since you’ve already gotten more in the last few seconds than you have the last few months. But you also don’t want the conversation to end or for him to regret telling you so you offer something up in return.

“I used to take dance lessons when I was a kid, my own idea,” you say, smiling fondly. “Of course, it turns out I was terrible at dancing, and I quit after a year.” Five laughs, and your chest swells with pride as you smile back.

“You don’t seem so terrible right now,” he offers, a rare compliment from the man.

“I suppose a few lessons must have stuck,” you say. “That, or I have an excellent partner.”

“Must be the latter,” Five says, causing both of you to laugh. When your eyes meet again, and the two of you are caught smiling, something seems to change in the air. You two continue to dance, but Five doesn’t look away this time, instead giving you an earnest look. You don’t look away either. You hold your breath, afraid that one false move might ruin this moment. But everything good must come to an end eventually.

The music stops, and it’s as if Five snapped out of a trance, for he quickly looks away and clears his throat. You can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. “I think now’s the time to begin the search,” he says, all traces of amusement gone.

You recover yourself and nod. “Yes, right.” Five then takes off towards the staircase and you’re close on his heels. You nervously glance around before making a bold move. You catch his hand and grab his arm with your other hand, snuggling into his side with a giddy smile plastered on your face.

Five appears taken aback by your actions. “W-what the hell are you doing?” he asks, his face reddening.

“Keeping up appearances, remember?” you say still with a smile. “It’s a bit less suspicious for a couple to sneak off somewhere together than two individuals.”

“Right,” he says, but still seems very uncomfortable, only managing a tight smile as a cover.

†††

Once you’re out of sight, you immediately let Five go. You feel a tad embarrassed by your actions, but you were only trying to keep yourselves from getting caught. Five leads the way to the office located in the building, remembering the blueprints you studied together.

The door is locked when you find it, but Five simply teleports inside and unlocks it for you. You had planned for this; when the two of you were scoping out the place, Five made sure to check out the office from the windows to know what the room looked like.

“Stand guard while I search,” he tells you before walking away. You scrunch your face.

“Why am I standing watch, exactly?”

Without looking up from his search, Five says, “Because you said I could take lead on our missions.” You try to remember your multiple pitches to Five when asking to be his partner. Damn, you did say that.

“I take it back,” you say while maintaining watch of the hallway.

“Too late.” You huff but accept your fate. Your gaze flickers across the hallway, keeping your eyes and ears open for any witnesses. You can faintly hear the music from the first floor and can’t help but wish you were back there, dancing again. Dancing with Five. You shake your head and try not to let your mind wander any further.

After a while of painful silence, Five breezes past you. “I’ve got it,” he says, holding the flash drive in his hand. You smile.

“Finally.” You snatch the flash drive from his hands.

“Hey!” he frowns trying to grab it but you duck out of reach. You giggle and begin to head towards the stairs when suddenly two large men in tuxedos enter the hallway. You turn your head to see two more making their way towards you and Five, and you have a feeling that there are more to come.

You quickly stuff the flash drive into one of your pockets.

“The party’s downstairs kids,” one of the men in front of you says. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Five tense up and see the calculating gaze enter his eyes.

“Silly us, must’ve had too much champagne!” you say, stalling for the inevitable as you prepare yourself. “Well, we’ll just return to the party—”

“I don’t think so,” the other says, revealing a gun.

“That’s alright. I hear the real party’s upstairs anyway.” With those words, you see Five blink from your side to standing behind the two men. You love seeing the shock on people’s faces the first time it happens.

You turn to deal with the other two. “Can’t we just talk this out?” you ask. One of them takes aim and you roll your eyes. “Guess not.”

The bullet fires but you’ve already moved out of the way. You might not have Five’s teleportation, but you’re quick on your feet. You pull out the gun that was strapped to your leg and shoot the weapon out of the man’s hand. He shouts just as his partner fires at you. But you’re running, and the bullet hits the wall.

You manage to get behind the man you haven’t shot and jump on his back. While he struggles to get you off, you shoot his partner in the neck. The man you’re on top of reveals a hidden knife and slashes at you, opening a gash on your right forearm. You hiss and drop off of him. But you shoot his chest three times before he can turn around.

Near the stairs, you see Five standing over the body of two men but more are coming. As you make your way over, you fire at them, careful not to hit Five while he’s blinking around. The two of you manage to take out eight more guards, but somehow they keep coming. Then you see one man in particular make his way onto the scene.

“I have to say, Palinski,” Michael Lynell says as he catches your gaze. “I’m rather surprised.”

“What, you didn’t think I was just another pretty face, did you?” you ask, as Five tackles the guards around him. It seems you have Michael’s undivided attention. He smiles at you.

“Of course not. I just didn’t expect the Commission to risk such an obviously valuable asset,” he says, looking you up and down. It doesn’t give you the same butterflies as before but rather sends a chill up your spine.

“Allow me to show you how valuable I really am.” You shoot a few bullets at the man but he’s running before they can reach him. You quickly run out of bullets and toss your gun aside, changing to hand-to-hand combat. Your fist collides with his jaw which sends him stumbling back. You smile as he scowls. But soon he’s diving for you and you barely manage to move out of the way.

Your fight continues with a few blows landing on each other when suddenly he clamps his hand down on your bleeding arm, catching you off guard. You struggle but can feel him gaining the upper hand. In a moment of panic, you spot Five not too far away. While fighting against Michael, you manage to catch Five’s eye.

“Run!” you yell. Before he can process what you mean, the flash drive is out of your pocket and you’re tossing it into the air. Five’s eyes widen before quickly blinking over to catch it. As he catches it, Michael tightens his hold on your arm and you bite back a whimper. He pulls you to his chest and puts you in a chokehold. But he doesn’t cut off your breathing. You look to your right to see a gun pointed at your head.

“Drop your weapon!” Michael shouts at Five. Five looks over and you see his eyes widen. Michael’s the last enemy standing, you and Five managed to take on every other one. You try to struggle in his grasp but he only presses the gun further into your head. Five tosses his gun to the side. You assume he also ran out of bullets anyway.

“Now, hand over the flash drive, or I’ll shoot your pretty partner here,” he says in a menacing voice. He’s cocky and you can sense the victorious smile spreading across his lips. But he's not the only one victorious.

You laugh in his hold. “Nice try, but Five here doesn’t care if you shoot me,” you say. You try not to show your hurt and hide the pain in your chest but you know you’re right. This isn’t how you imagined you’d die, but at least you’ll make a hot corpse.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, pretty,” Michael whispers in your ear, his eyes locked on Five.

Instead of running like you told him to, Five hesitates. To your confusion, he seems to be looking between you and Michael with that calculating gaze. His jaw is set and you can see his frustration from the tightening of his fists.

“Five, what are you doing?” you ask. “Go!” He should have been long gone. He has the flash drive, your mission was a success. Besides, you were only a new partner. As much as you’ve tried, you haven’t managed to get on his good side. He wouldn’t throw away the mission for this.

But then, you watch as Five pulls the flash drive from his pocket. You begin to struggle again, despite the pain of the gun pressing into your skull. Five doesn’t look at you.

“If I hand this over,” Five says. “You let them go.” His voice is seething as he stares Michael down, like he wants to rip him apart. Your mind can barely process what’s happening. You wish he would look at you so that you could try to make some sense of what’s going on in his head, but he refuses to look your way.

“That’s the deal,” Michael says from behind you. In a quieter voice, Michael says to you, “I told you you were valuable.” The sentence sends you to panic more and you shake your head, a bruise beginning to form where the gun is pressing into you.

In a matter of seconds, you watch as Five tosses the flash drive into the air towards Michael. The man shoves you to the ground hard as he tries to catch it. The second he has the object in his grasp, he takes off running.

You groan from your place on the floor. Suddenly you see a flash of blue and Five is leaning over you. His eyes are swimming with concern as he sweeps over your body. Then he locks eyes with you and you feel your breath stop.

“Are you okay?” he asks seriously. His stare is intense and you freeze for a minute. Then you snap back to reality.

“Uh yeah, I’m fine,” you say and Five’s shoulders seem to relax. Then you remember your mission. “Five, he’s getting away!”

“Oh no he’s not,” Five growls as his gaze fills with anger once more. You see Five go from crouching beside you to blinking next to Michael just as he made it to the stairs. You begin to sit up as you watch Five knock the man out, probably killing him. He leans over Michael’s body and you think he says something before he pries the flash drive from his hands.

In a flash, Five is back standing over you. He wordlessly holds out his hand toward you. You grab it and he helps you up. “Thank you,” you say in awe, once again trying to lock eyes with him. But the moment seems to have passed.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, and you have a feeling he isn’t just talking about helping you up.

†††

The car ride back is uneventful, filled with awkward silence. You keep glancing over at Five but his eyes remain focused on the road.

The two of you walk into the motel room, exhausted from the fight. Five prepares to send the flash drive back to the Commission as you watch, unsure of what to do or say. So you say the obvious.

“So, are we not going to talk about it?” you ask. You’re met with silence and you roll your eyes. You reach over to your travel bag and hiss, pulling back your arm.

“You got stabbed, you idiot,” Five says, glancing over his shoulder. Oh, right. You kind of forgot about your injury in your haze of confusion. You hold your arm, wincing at the amount of blood.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, brushing it off. “Just have to patch myself up.”

You search for the motel’s first aid kit. After finding it you plop yourself down in a chair and place the kit on the room’s desk. Then you hesitate, wondering how to proceed single-handedly. Especially using your bad hand. That doesn’t stop you as you open the kit and start to clean the wound. It’s a bit of a struggle and takes you way longer than it should have. You’re also exhausted which doesn’t help.

You hear a sigh and turn to see Five approaching you. “Useless,” he utters as he starts to take over.

“Five, I don’t need your help. I’m fine—”

“Shut up and let me concentrate.” The way he becomes so focused on the task, eyebrows scrunching as he delicately holds your arm, is enough to shut you up more than his words.

“Yes sir,” you whisper, and he rolls his eyes. Silence fills the room as Five wordlessly patches up your wound. You hiss at the rubbing alcohol and he glances up at you, his features softer than normal, before gently continuing the task. You take the time to regard him fondly, watching his small mannerisms and movements.

You get so caught up that the words seem to fall out of your mouth. “Why didn’t you run?” you whisper, trying to keep the moment quiet. He hesitates. “The mission was complete, you had the flash drive. I told you to run.” The question has been eating away at you. Five takes a moment to think before continuing his task.

“They were going to kill you,” he says, as if it was an obvious answer. But nothing about this man seems obvious to you.

“I thought you hated me.”

“I do,” he says and the words seem to hurt despite the fact that you already knew that. “But that doesn’t mean I want you dead.”

Your breath catches as you stare at Five. It’s not much, and for anyone else that sentence would have meant nothing. But you knew that it was Five revealing his feelings for you. Five hates everyone, that's only natural. But this is the first real indication that you mean something to him.

You smile. “For the record, I don’t want you dead either.” Five stops what he’s doing and for the first time since the mansion, he meets your gaze. The two of you hold eye contact for a moment and you swear you see his mouth twitch upwards. Then reality crashes down on both of you and you awkwardly look away while blushing.

Five clears his throat. “This doesn’t change anything,” he says, finishing up the bandaging of your arm.

“Of course not,” you respond, and he seems to hold onto your arm for a moment or two longer than he should have. Then he’s walking away. As you watch him head for the washroom, you both know that that was a lie.

* * * * *

Those who asked for a part 2:

@winchestertitties @tua-five @violett-s @if-alina @shampoocovers99

#five x reader #five x you #five x y/n #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x y/n #five hargreeves #Five Hargreeves fanfiction #tua #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #tua fanfiction

699 notes · View notes

seravphs · 1 year

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo has had better ideas than putting all of your friends together in one house, but at least you have a pool.

wc — 2k

tags — large friend group, set after cruel summer but can be read as a stand alone, summer vacation

It’s already evening by the time you arrive. The sun is still warming the sky, but it’s descending steadily. It’s a shame. You had wanted to be there earlier.

The minute you step out of the car and onto the grass, verdant in a way it never is in Tokyo, a large shape comes hurtling across the grass to snatch you up. Gojo grabs you around the waist and hauls you up so you’re trapped, kicking uselessly as he spins you around. He’s always been too strong for you. You pound his shoulders with your fists uselessly, demanding to be put down.

“Hi,” he says breathlessly when he finally does. “What took you so long? I was waiting for you.”

That shouldn’t make you as pleased as you are, but it does. You allow yourself a small indulgence, gentle brushing one stray lock of hair out of his face. He nuzzles into your touch like an overgrown cat, so sure of himself and what he deserves.

Ijichi clears his throat. He cowers when Gojo shoots him a nasty look. You press your hand over his face and shove him back, leaning into the car through the passenger seat window to talk to the poor man.

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

He eyes Gojo. “Absolutely, ma’am.”

“I’ve told you that you don’t have to call me that,” you say affectionately. “I’m only two years above you, you know. Have a safe trip back.”

As soon as he’s determined you’re done with your conversation, Gojo pulls you back to his side. He’s too handsy in a way only he can be, the way he always has been. He slings an arm around your shoulder as he steers you towards the house. You can hear music coming from inside, the strains of some pop melody off the radio’s top 100. Over it, Getou’s voice croons the lyrics, sweet and cheerful.

It’s a beautiful house. Utahime picked it out and Gojo paid for it. It’s a beautiful pale blue, even more faded from the constant wear and tear of salt spray so it matches the soft hues of a perfectly sunny sky. The white trim makes it look like it’s been pulled off a movie set. It’s an adorable little thing. Utahime did a good job.

As soon as you step through the doors, you’re attacked again. Haibara crashes into your arms so forcefully you knock backwards into Gojo, feeling your breath being crushed out of your chest. You wheeze in response, but still bring a hand up to stroke the crown of his head. You can’t be mad at him for being so excited to see you.

Gojo can.

“Hey,” he warns, peeling Haibara off you. “Gotta be more careful.”

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that you, Gojo, Getou and Shoko are the oldest now. Utahime graduated this year.

“Sorry,” Haibara whines. Then he jumps on Gojo, too.

Gojo laughs and pats his back. “You saw me two minutes ago, man.”

As Haibara clings on to Gojo like a suckerfish, testing how long Gojo can put up with him, Nanami gets up off the couch. “Here,” he says, a hand out for your bags. “Let me take your things.”

You follow him into the kitchen, where Getou and Utahime are arguing furiously. Shoko, without a care in the world, sits by the sink with her headphones in. Her eyes are closed, hair ruffled by the breeze coming in through the window. It’s beautiful outside. The previous owner had planted an apple tree right by the window, and now pink blossoms press against the glass like kisses.

Utahime lights up when she sees you, opening her arms to you immediately. She looks so domestic in her white, frilly apron and floral sundress. Some part of you wants to fall into her arms forever. She laughs as she peppers your head with kisses. “So spoiled,” she says, but you know she loves you. She wouldn’t baby you so much otherwise.

Of your entire class, Utahime had met you first. You were her first underclassman. She’s always been softer towards you and Shoko, but you have a special place in her heart.

Getou’s a little more patient than Gojo is. He waits his turn for Utahime to release you before he scoops you up in a hug as well. You’re still wondering when Gojo and Getou will stop growing. It’s getting a little uncomfortable to hug them at this point. Even standing on your tip toes can’t get your arms over their shoulders, so your feet lift off the ground when he hugs you back.

Shoko moves over on her seat to make room for you as the only two competent chefs in the entire house go back to arguing. Utahime throws syrup and ice in a shaker as she talks, pouring it into a tall glass of some sparkling liquid.

“No drinking before the pool,” she tells you as she hands you her signature mocktail. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Getou rolls his eyes. “What are you worried about? Gojo and I are there.”

She shoves his shoulder to get to the stack of plates she’s prepared. “Just because you guys are special grace sorcerers, you think you’re lifeguards too?”

“Come on,” you interrupt. “No fighting, please! We’re here to have fun.”

Utahime pauses on her way to the plates. She sighs, turns around, and plants another kiss on your hair. “Alright, alright. Truce?”

“We were never fighting.”

You and Shoko exchange a look. Out back, Gojo has the grill set up. Nanami had taken your things to your room, but Haibara was already in the pool swimming laps.

“Finally,” Gojo says when he sees the four of you coming with plates of food.

“Show some gratitude,” Getou tells him playfully. “Utahime and I put a lot of work into these, you know.”

Gojo’s already adding skewers to the grill. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Thank you mom and dad, we’re so appreciative of everything you do for us.”

“Brat,” Utahime says, coming to your side. “Isn’t he such a little jerk?”

You laugh.

“She loves me,” Gojo says confidently. “She’s on my side.”

That’s when Getou gets a sneaky look in his eye. “Want me to take over the grill?”

“Nah,” Gojo says. “I’m better than you so- whoa!”

Getou snags Gojo by the waist and drags him towards the pool. He, in turn, grabs your wrist and takes you with him. When Getou dumps him in, you take the plunge too.

Underneath the water, you open your eyes. Gojo’s white hair has turned blue in this underwater light, a few shades lighter than his electric eyes. He’s watching you back, his lips curved into a smile.

Then, he grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you up with him. Breaking the surface, you gasp for air.

“Are you okay?” Utahime calls.

Gojo gives her a thumbs up as he starts pushing your wet hair away from where it hangs in your face. His hands are as pretty as the rest of him, long and slim, but they feel almost rough as he works. Maybe it’s the friction of the water against your skin.

His hands feel good. He’s just touching you normally, but even the slightest bit of contact has your stomach in knots.

For a second, you think he’s going to kiss you again, like he did last summer, but he just affectionately bumps your cheek with his.

“Are you happy?” He asks, treading water.

You follow him, regardless of where he’s going. “I’m always happy when we’re together. All of us.”

He smiles. “Then I’m happy too.”

Having finally reached his destination, he grabs the water gun floating on the surface of the pool that Haibara had left in earlier. Just as Nanami steps outside, he aims.

Bullseye.

Nanami curses him out as Haibara, who was on his way to greet him, ducks and weaves, ditching his best friend. Sometimes there are casualties in war, and he knows how to cut his losses.

“I’ll avenge you!” He vows, tears in his eyes as he goes for the second gun. His aim is terrible. Instead of hitting Gojo, he hits you.

Just as Gojo aims, Utahime calls,” Food’s ready!”

It gives you deja vu. From the look on Gojo’s face, he feels the same. He gets out of the pool first and offers you a hand. You use it to pull him back in and climb out yourself.

“Brat,” he mutters, parodying Utahime’s words.

You just giggle, leaning into his side as the two of you walk towards the candlelit table. Utahime really does look like a mother in this light, her soft black hair falling over her shoulder. It’s slightly frizzy from the salt of the ocean nearby, but it only makes her look more charming. She’s wearing a floral bandana to push back her hair as she bustles about arranging plates.

Nanami, ever dutiful, gets up to help her. When he passes her, he mutters something in her ear that turns his pale cheeks red, but she only coos and calls him her good boy. That makes the blush even worse.

Gojo gives you a knowing look that you meet readily. “Ten bucks on the end of the summer?”

“Fifteen before,” you retort.

“Ah, but there’s Getou,” Shoko says, coming up behind you. She drapes one arm over each of your shoulders. You turn your head to press a light kiss to her wrist.

“Who says she can’t have both?” Gojo says.

That’s sort of the crux of the situation. Both, all. It doesn’t really matter to you how things shake out as long as you all stay together. There’s a faith in this, something larger than yourself. Your friends are a god of sorts to you. This thing that all of you share is unbreakable, holy. No matter in what form it comes, you will always love each other.

“Oh dear,” Shoko says, watching Haibara struggle under a stack of plates he insisted he could carry. “I’ll be right back.”

Gojo secures you two one of the loveseats around the table. When you sneeze, he grabs a towel from the stack Nanami set out earlier and wraps it around you. You lean into him, relishing his warmth as he wraps an arm around you.

“Nanami,” he calls.

“No.”

“Do me a favor?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know about your emo taste in music. Can you wrap a blanket around us?”

“Why can’t you do it yourself?”

“But I want you to tuck me in, please?”

Utahime’s watching him. He brings the blanket.

“Good boy,” Gojo coos, and Nanami turns bright red again. He stalks off to help Getou cook the last of the food, his shoulders rigid.

“You tease him too much,” you tell Gojo as he settles in. Utahime comes by with a plate she already prepared for the two of you. Gojo blows her a kiss when he notices she’s piled his favorites on. She scoffs, but she’s pleased.

She knows your favorites too. You snag her wrist and press a kiss to her hand. She ruffles your hair affectionately. “Eat up,” she tells you. “We have plenty more.”

Slowly, the seats around you fill up. Shoko, carrying half of Haibara’s now much lower stack of plates, settles in on your right. Getou sits with her, letting her sprawl across him. He should be the one asking for more room, being so much taller, but it gives him more joy to indulge her. He feeds her a skewer by hand.

Nanami and Haibara surround Utahime on either side. She rests her head on Nanami’s shoulder, taking slow, small bites. She’s always been elegant like that. Haibara leans against her in turn, chowing down with relish. Nanami hands him a napkin when he inevitably gets messy.

When you’re done cataloguing your friends, making sure they’re comfortable, you realize you’re being watched yourself. Gojo’s eyes are intent.

“Are you happy?”

“Why do you keep asking me that?” You laugh.

He pretends to bristle. “What, I can’t care about my friends?”

You give him a look that says please be serious.

“Hey! I’m a changed man, you know. I can think about other people.”

You laugh and snuggle in closer to him, letting his body heat continue to warm you up. “I’m just teasing. I know you care about us.”

“So?”

“I’m always happy when we’re all together.”

“Okay,” Gojo says softly. He pulls the blanket over your heads for a minute. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he presses a light kiss to the corner of your lip. “I’ll make it happen then.”

“Hey!” Getou kicks Gojo in the leg. “What are you guys doing under there? Hands where we can see them, mister!”

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojo fluff #gojou fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

468 notes · View notes

lilacxquartz · 3 months

Text

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 13

Satoru Gojo × Fem!Reader × Suguru Geto

ABOUT: You moved to Tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. As you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Following a certain suspicion confirming Suguru’s hunches, he finally learned the full truth of what happened to you back in your hometown.

TRIGGER WARNING: Upsetting scenes as bullying is referenced as a memory

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

13. Locker Rooms

The next couple of days felt equally numb and confusing as you processed exactly what was going on between you and Suguru, especially as he didn’t really let you leave to go back home just yet.

The truth was that he was waiting for the perfect moment to confirm something. He also wanted to train you a little before letting you go back as he wanted you to be stronger sooner than later.

“Feel free to update people that you’re okay now,” he said, giving you back your phone that he took from you earlier.

You did so almost immediately, finding that your phone was actually blown up for once. You were used to disappearing for days at a time back when you lived in the town, but this didn’t carry on so well with the people you were so quickly intertwined with.

And it has only been a couple of months as well.

The fact that this happened so quickly was messing up your entire mind.

Shoko initially kept things brief, telling you not to do anything stupid because she didn’t want to put you back together if she could help it. Her next couple of messages however were asking you if you’re alive even, if you’re doing okay.

You texted her back first, saying that you just needed some time to be alone and that you were fine.

She was smart though, you knew she wouldn’t buy it.

Satoru, otherwise, was the one who spammed the most. There were some missed calls, a lot of messages too. Some of what he sent didn’t make a whole of sense as you couldn’t quite figure out the context.

You responded to him using the same exact response that you sent out to Shoko as it seemed like a safer option.

You were technically thinking for the last couple of days. On and off about everything that was going on. It’s just you were also going through a little bit more beyond that point as well.

It’s not like you could disclose what had happened either, not wanting to bring any more attention to yourself.

Suguru saw whatever was happening to you as a step in the right direction as you weren’t actually trying to leave. The fact that you listened to him and went along with his ideas was all that he wanted.

(Despite this whole thing actually being bad for you.)

Satoru swung by his place some time later on, something that Suguru had in fact anticipated. He gave you your phone back for a reason after withholding it because he wanted to test something out, not because he was needlessly controlling.

He did let you accuse him of that though, thinking it’d be easier to explain than what he was actually doing.

Besides, you were well within your rights to hate him currently, so he also didn’t really fight it.

You stayed in his bed as you messed around on your phone; the door partially concealing you just enough for Satoru to see a familiar person beyond the door.

Satoru was admittedly surprised to find you there, but he didn’t allow himself to show it. He wanted to ask why you were there, because Suguru never had anyone over. He’d always been the type to either go to someone else’s place while not allowing anyone inside.

So why were you there…?

Suguru studied Satoru’s mannerisms and reactions as he pieced everything together. He shouldn’t have doubted his hunch from the start because certain suspicions were already clear, evident to even how his friend’s knuckles were bandaged and how he was acting slightly erratic.

However, Suguru wasn’t going to do anything or say anything just yet. He was going to act like he doesn’t know a single thing unless Satoru would start crumbling by himself otherwise.

As for you; he knew that you wouldn’t say anything to anyone because as it stands, he managed to break you just a little. Or a lot. He still felt huge amounts of guilt for what he did, but the jealousy was finally beginning to subside now that he had you right where he wanted you to be and he wasn’t planning ever let you go.

“Is that [name]?” Satoru asked. You could hear them both talk through the door.

“Yeah,” Suguru replied in a casual manner as he acknowledged his friend, “guess she wanted to be a bit further away than where it happened.”

“Thought she’d be at the campus,” Satoru speculated.

“Yeah, but that’s away from everyone else,” Suguru pointed out, “still wanted some familiarity, you know?”

Satoru didn’t like that implication. It still didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him and despite knowing that he shouldn’t have acted out that way back in the alley, he now felt something strange brewing away. Initially he was going to make it up to you but now he felt entitled to something he couldn’t have.

Something that Suguru now had instead.

Or at least it seemed that way to him.

So maybe he would give into a thought he’d been tempting this whole summer and do something he shouldn’t, just so he could get a taste too. He didn’t understand why for once, Suguru wasn’t willing to share someone with him.

(Unless Suguru was actually taking things seriously with you?)

You could feel a strained silence brew between the two of them as neither replied for a good amount of time. Not having a faint clue of what was going on in either of their heads. It was too confusing of a time to think properly, after all.

“Right,” Satoru concluded, his tone not quite convinced but he quickly changed it up to something happier once again, as if to cast the illusion that he didn’t care a single bit. “Wanna hang out tonight though?”

“Could,” Suguru said in response to maintain the delusion; you could hear some quieter conversation happen between the two of them before something was decided, “one sec, though.”

Suguru broke away from Satoru, closing the door momentarily. He then slipped back into the bedroom for a second to grab his wallet off of the nightstand and as he did so, he stared at you for a moment.

“You can use the rest of the apartment,” he told you as if setting up some ground rules, “just avoid the door opposite the bathroom, that room belongs to the girls but they’re away for the summer.”

The girls? Oh, that’s right. Shoko did mention that he was responsible for a pair of younger girls that he took from a bad situation. She never really elaborated, but it was clear that he was a guardian or maybe even dad to them.

You nodded as you had no interest in invading their privacy anyway.

“I won’t,” you replied in a soft voice.

“Good,” he replied, seeming much more at ease knowing that you would be in his home as opposed to anywhere else. You’d be safe here. “I’ll be back later tonight and we can begin the training tomorrow.”

You nodded along again, feeling somewhat nervous about the prospect. You didn’t say goodbye to him as he left, but he did so.

As far as you understood from everyone else, including him, Suguru was a good fighter and that he was strong when it came to things like hand to hand combat and the like.

Still, there was just something about the way he worded it.

It didn’t seem as though you were going to learn how to just defend yourself, but how to hurt people on purpose.

And that simply didn’t sit quite right with you.

***

When Suguru came back, he seemed to be in a slightly different way than before, as if almost agitated. Such an abrupt change in his personality left you wondering what exactly happened, but you also didn’t want to push his buttons knowing exactly what he does when aggravated.

It was quite late when he came back as well, so he returned to the sight of you laying on his sofa, watching some reruns of some old show.

He sat down beside you, lifting your head over his thighs so that you could instead rest on top of his lap. He smelled how he usually did; stale cigarettes and sweat clinging to skin, the consequence of a humid summer.

You never said anything to greet him even though you were wide awake but then again, he never said anything back either.

In utter silence, his hand crept to your hair and he passively played with it. The lack of words exchanged casted an eerie atmosphere as you could hear the wet smack of his lips parting on and off as if he wanted to say something, but kept holding himself back.

After a while though, he finally managed to speak again. His throat clearing as a deep exhale left him at last.

“[name]?” he asked, trying to be kind with you in the way that he addressed you.

You hummed in a questioning tone, feeling a little sleepy as you laid there.

“I know you probably don’t want to,” he started off, his fingers tightening around your scalp just a little tighter as he paused, “but can you tell me exactly what that other thing your bully did? You never finished explaining because you were too drunk.”

You paused as you suddenly felt unwell again and as a result felt unsure as to how exactly to go about this.

You remembered that one defining night at the bar quite well and it was very likely that you got as quickly close to that particular group of people because all four of you were damaged to an extent.

It was quick, it was toxic, it was exhausting.

It got you into a situation you didn’t like as a result.

You really didn’t want to share, but there was something about the way he asked it and how he held onto you, that it felt as though it was a personal matter for him too.

“Why?” you asked.

“There’s just something I want to understand,” he replied, “but if you don’t want to say, then I won’t force you.”

He didn’t rush you to reply, trying to figure out if you would do it by yourself. He wasn’t going to force you just as he promised, even though he was so damn curious.

In his mind, he didn’t really get why you were being so passive. He almost wanted for you to scream at him, to call him out for the way he was acting. Not that he could blame you for it, but he wanted to understand if something in particular might have happened in the past that made you a certain way.

“Um,” your voice croaked after a while, a lot of your words were stuck in your throat and you couldn’t figure out how to start but you entertained the whole request anyway, “it had been the final week at school and she, Yui, figured out I was in the process of transferring because it was a small town and a small school.”

“I’m listening,” he said, resuming a gentler motion on your head, he didn’t want to pressure you—not like this anyway, “you can take your time if it’s difficult.”

You did just that. It was easier to say everything back when you had a drink in your hand but you were starkly sober now in a situation you didn’t anticipate being in.

“I guess she took it personally, maybe thinking I was transferring because of her at the time,” you continued, “I was simply going to go to another type of school, the uh, jujutsu school, but it wasn’t something that I could exactly explain to others, so I just called it an alternative school or something like that.”

He nodded along, trying to sink further back into the sofa as he pulled you a little closer up to him.

“It was a Friday from what I remember, because there was no school the next day and I stayed behind a little longer as I slowly gathered things like my old workbooks and things from the home room.”

It was funny in a way with just how much you could remember, it was so strikingly clear and you were reciting it as though it had happened just yesterday ago.

You wondered if Yui could remember it just as clearly too. If she even felt guilty at all.

Was that a silly thought to have?

Of course she probably didn’t feel a single thing at all.

“She stopped me just as I was leaving the school grounds, her other friends held the other exits for her so that I had nowhere to go… so her boyfriend at the time walked me over to the locker rooms where she was waiting.”

This next part was going to be awkward to explain, so maybe it was for the best that you never explained it to the group. It did leave you wondering if even Satoru would have acted differently to you had he known, if he would have been less pushy, if he would have treated Yui so lightly when he was in town with you.

“The locker rooms to the gym wing all had adjacent showers and we often used them after using the pool,” you explained, you weren’t quite so sure why you were being so calm to someone who equally hurt you back, but you continued anyway, “they turned on all of the showers to the hottest setting, letting the steam fill the room as it quickly became uncomfortably warm, almost like a sauna.”

Suguru in the meantime was wondering where exactly this was going. He felt more guilt rise within him as he tried to figure out if something was done to you or not.

“Her boyfriend’s dad was a police officer, so I guess she convinced him to steal a pair of handcuffs. He held me down as she cuffed me to the pipes near the shower,” you continued, remembering just how scalding hot those things were when you accidentally touched them. “T-the pipes were hot, but thankfully they didn’t leave a permanent mark. It just felt… raw for a while.”

That got an involuntary reaction from Suguru as he tensed up, the tugging on your hair hurting a little causing him to mutter a curt apology as he realised what he did.

Continuing after a brief moment of silence, you shared the next part a lot more reluctantly, “Her boyfriend also kind of um, touched me… felt me up… while she was out of the room briefly, so when she uh, came back and saw him doing that, I got the blame and…”

He pulled back, having a question in mind but he waited for you to finish.

“She attacked me as a result… like, she punched me and my head hit the tiles—I wasn’t sure if that part was intentional though, because she pulled back after,” you continued, “she specifically said the words, ‘I’ll mess up your face so nobody can ever look at you like that again,’ but luckily I guess it didn’t scar physically in the end, just mentally…”

“Sorry, but how old were you?” he finally asked the question that he had in mind.

“We were both 14, or maybe she was 15. Her boyfriend was about 16.”

“The fuck,” he replied, his eyebrows furrowing while his face adopted a conflicted expression.

Another silence brewed as he processed this.

“Sorry, you can continue,” he said after about a minute.

“She never gave me a reason at the time, so I had no idea why this whole thing was happening,” you continued to explain, still being unsure why she went so far, “she took my shirt off and put it over my head so that it quickly became unbearably hot as the time went on, I was pretty much left in there for the remainder of the night.”

“…As the showers were running?”

“Those turned off after a while, actually. I’m not sure why,” you replied.

“But you were still left there overnight…?”

“Y-Yeah,” you hesitated as you continued to explain, “I mean they all left after and I was left alone in the room overnight. Even if the hot water cooled down over time, that wasn’t the problem.”

“It was the fact that you were soaked and unable to do anything about it, right? While having a head injury?” Suguru quickly caught on. You might have genuinely gotten hypothermia from that whole thing in addition to being beaten up which meant that it wasn’t even bullying at that point, but rather an attempt on your life.

“Y-yeah…” you replied. “The school still had maintenance staff oversee the grounds even when the days were off for the teachers and the students, so I was still found reasonably quickly.”

He stayed quiet as he settled on a decision in his mind. He felt it for a while… even before you, but he was slowly starting to hate humanity. He didn’t want to protect people anymore.

As a result, his grip on your head tightened. Not out of possession, but out of anger. He didn’t mean to hurt you though, so he kept himself restrained. Just barely.

“The rest of that day was a blur for me; they called in firefighters to help get me out of the cuffs and an ambulance to come treat me, the police were involved at some point too.”

You stopped explaining things for a moment, needing to take a break before continuing.

“I was in a really bad shape after,” you added, sounding a little defeated.

“Did anything happen to her for doing this to you?” his voice cracked a little. He didn’t care how he sounded.

“Not at all,” you scoffed a little, feeling some tears form. You couldn’t help it, it was a tough memory to recite, “her family used their influence and connections to sweep this whole thing to the side so it never blew up more than it should have.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Suguru spoke up again, pausing as he processed every single detail, “they got off free for inflicting actual torture?”

“Her boyfriend took the hit, her two other friends did too. Yui however walked away without consequence, but to my knowledge, she never did anything like that to anyone ever again.”

“Huh,” he replied, unsure how to actually proceed. He expected something bad, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined.

There was a long and uncomfortable silence after that and the entire time, Suguru was planning something else now. His hold finally relaxed on you as he came to a decisive conclusion, something clicking internally as he understood exactly what he wanted to do.

“You probably won’t like this either,” he spoke up after what felt like minutes, “but I’d like to go to your hometown before the summer break ends.”

“W-why?” you asked. You just spent so long talking about your unfortunate time there and he wanted to go there? Why…? Besides, if Satoru hated it for being boring, then Suguru especially would go insane.

“There’s something I’d like to do,” he simply said, remembering something important.

“Do what…?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it for now,” he assured you, switching the television off as he fumbled with the remote.

He laid back on the sofa with you on his lap, staring straight ahead into the dark. He wasn’t going to sleep, even if he did feel your body twitch after some time and your breathing turn much more laboured.

He was going to keep up his promise, he decided.

He was going to keep you safe from everything else, no matter what it took.

Somebody at some point hurt you and to his understanding, they never got a punishment.

That much was going to change.

(Even if it meant killing for you.)

68 notes · View notes

sourholland · 2 years

Text

WELCOME TO THE STYLE MASTERLIST

series based off of taylor swift’s song style

Summary → He’s the Quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of Lake Erie—but does he have the heart to match it? You’re the Bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. It doesn’t take much to catch the eye of Joe Burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

AN → Honestly this idea came to me pretty suddenly, it wasn’t very premeditated. I’m not sure anyone will be interested in reading it, this is me kinda testing the waters. I’m just going through a crazy sad breakup so I’m kinda just trying to get back into the things I love to do, writing being one of them. Also, I kinda just want to get my mind off stuff and who doesn’t love Joe Burrow haha. As always, let me know to be added to the tag list :)

Pairing(s) → Joe Burrow x Fem!Reader

Warnings → Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Mature Themes/NSFW Themes, Angst, Injury, Forbidden Love, More to Come

PLAYLIST

PART ONE - No Headlights

PART TWO - Good Girl

PART THREE - James Dean

PART FOUR - His Wild Eyes

PART FIVE - Taking Off His Coat

PART SIX - Tell You To Leave

Teaser →

After a rigorous auditioning process with over a thousand girls trying to earn their spot on the Bengal’s Cheerleading Squad, only forty made the cut. Most returners, some new like yourself. You’d watched girls break bones, continuing to audition on them to have a shot on the squad. Many left in tears, cut and sent home with hardly any reason why.

There was a little bit of metaphorical survivor’s guilt after you’d made the team, knowing this wasn’t your dream like it was for some others. This was only a season or two commitment for you while you finished up your last year of college. Then you’d become a teacher, something you’d had a passion for over the years. Cheerleading was more so a hobby, you’d danced all of your life and had cheered in high school. This wasn’t going to be your livelihood, nor did it offer you the funds to live off of for more than a short while.

There were plenty of rules to follow, many of which had you questioning if this was truly what you wanted. The handbook they’d given you was thick, although some of the girls had told you that they’d lessened up on the requirements over the years after a lawsuit had been filed. In the end, it wasn’t so bad. Tedious, but still a very surreal experience.

From about April to the middle of July, it was practice twice a week from 7:30 at night to about 11. There was a separate facility used to work and condition through the colder months, just following the Super Bowl. Once pre-season truly began, the whole team moved practice facilities. This put you in the same place as the Bengals practiced, giving you more field time than gym time to get acclimated. It was different, especially due to the fact that players and cheerleaders were placed at an arms length most of the time.

The afternoon of the first practice at the new stadium, you’d all been given the talk. This was basically your coaches and executives way of saying that if anyone found out that anyone off the squad had anything more than a friendly, professional relationship with one of the players—they’d be either cut or sanctioned. It was bad for the image of the team, making it bad for those in charge.

It shouldn’t have been a problem.

That first night practice in August was tough, you were coming off of a sprained ankle and the heat was blistering even at 8 at night. Amanda, your head coach, sent you inside to grab some ice from the athletic trainer to bring back out to the field. There was a stigma around the coaching and treatment of NFL cheerleaders, but you’d mostly had a decent experience so far. Your coaches did care that you were healthy and equipped to cheer.

Adorned in a slightly baggy Bengals T-shirt and spandex, you walked through the empty halls of the mostly deserted facility. The players had just ended their practice about an hour earlier, you watched them all exit into the locker room. That meant that mostly everyone had called it a night, heading home. The cheerleaders stayed late because practice was meant to be after work or class, it wasn’t a full-time job.

The door to the athletic trainers office was slightly ajar, the light on. Pushing it open slightly, you stepped in with furrowed eyebrows and a curious look. On the large medical table, ice in hand, sat Joe Borrow still in his practice jersey and shorts. The office was empty besides him, trainer nowhere to be seen.

He was a good looking guy, you’d give him that. Maybe it was the fact that he was 6’4 or maybe it was the fact that he was really fucking good at his sport. He looked up at you and gave a friendly grin, laying the ice on his knee.

“Emily said she was heading home about a half hour ago, her kid was sick or something so she had to pick him up from the babysitter,” Joe told you politely. “I came in just as she was like walking out, she just told me to lock up the office when I was done.”

Someone was clearly a rambler.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I was just going to grab some ice.”

He nodded and went silent while you walked over to the ice maker, taking the plastic scooper and putting some of it into a plastic bag. He was still looking at you, making it obvious as you saw him from your peripheral. Twisting the bag, you felt slightly awkward just standing there in silence.

“I’m Joe,” he spoke again.

“Y/N,” you turned back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He extended a hand towards you, smiling as you took it and shook it softly. When you broke from his grip, he remained looking at you. He was definitely one of those people who looked you right in the eyes through the entire conversation. You didn’t know if this made you particularly uncomfortable or slightly excited.

“You’re a cheerleader.”

“Was that a question?” You chuckled, “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“No, no. I was kind of just thinking out loud.”

He was easily flustered, that much was obvious. He repositioned the bag of ice and looked back up at you with slightly pink cheeks. This made you want to crack a grin, feeling like you were talking to a boy for the first time ever or something.

“I should head back to practice,” you told him, watching him slowly nod in understanding.

“Yeah, of course,” Joe smiled. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list :)

#joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x yn #joe burrow series #joe sheisty #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic

885 notes · View notes