#Im the one that makes sure he showers and goes to bed at a decent time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sicjimin · 1 year

Note

2seok with sick seokjin and caretaker hobi pretty pleaseeee i rarely see this combo literally the cutest duo ever theyre so underrated 🥺 and hobi rubs his hyung back when he gets sick, bringing his plushie to jin just like how jin did when hobi was sick

— Incredibly Sick —

a.n : hii anon, im so sorry this take a long time to fulfill, i hope you're still around 🥹 i dont think there's much fluff in this, but i hope you like it ! thank u for requesting :) and if you're interested with more 2seok, i think i have written a few, all of it is in my masterlist ~

Seokjin isn't one who easily get sick. If he needs to put it in a rank between all of their members, he would be on the top 3, right between Namjoon and Jungkook. He even can count with his fingers how many times he had been unluckily getting sick in a year. That was a privilege, a blessing—but everything, of course, comes with a price. And that's for him is always getting the hardest hit whenever he's sick.

Yeah, he can count with his fingers how many times he had been sick—but with all of those count, 2 of it he ended up in a hospital, and one of it leaving him in a full bedrest for 3 days, after Yoongi found him almost fainting in their bathroom.

And with that being said, he always trying his best to keep himself healthy. All the healthy lifestyle—food, masks, regular working out. He did all of that. Even a decent sleep schedule ; that most of people scoffed at the idea, since he's an idol, who knowns to have packed schedule and awake at 2am for recording. But alas, Seokjin managed to do it.

Until a slip up coming, today.

It started as he just trying to sleep off a small headache last night, after a full day of shooting and meeting. He brushed it off after downing an aspirin—knowing that it might only a stress-induced headache that he and almost everyone else, usually get when their schedule is too jam packed. So, he didn't make too much fuss about it.

But as times goes on, it becomes clear something is really wrong.

The first time, he stirs awake, grunting to himself as he sleepily tugs his blanket closer to his chin. If someone could see it, he is frowning deep at how cold he felt. Missing how he has started to covered in sweat, and how his skin feels like it's on fire.

Seokjin just curled himself smaller, making himself disappear underneath the thick blanket and went back to sleep.

It only last for 5 minutes, before he groans—feeling weird all over his body, and growing even colder. His whole body hurts too.

With his eyes closed, he peels his hand from the warmth of thick blanket, to his forehead, and his chin—giving it a light press and pat. It burns.

And he groans even more, diving his head further to the pillow as his brain quick to catch up the conclusion. He's catching a fever.

With the new knowledge, he wonder if a shower would help. He feel gross and clammy—and the idea really does sound nice, but he feels weak, like suddenly someone chaining him on the bed. The achy feeling on his muscles also prevent him to entertain the idea. He just can't bring himselves to at least try to get up. The coldness outside the blanket, tells him it's not worth the effort. And with how heavy his head right now, Seokjin is sure he would end up fainting along the way if he try to get up now.

So with a sigh, he tugs the blanket even more and let sickness drags him to sleep. Thinking that maybe with some kind of magical power, he will feel better later.

The second time he wake up—is luckily, a little bit longer than the first one. He got an hour of sleep, before he stirs with how uncomfortable his body is. His teeth clattering out of his own will, and his whole body burn even more—the one kind that makes you feels difficult to catch a breath. Everything around him feels suffocating. He parts his lip, trying to get more inhale of oxygen that way—before he racked into a fit of cough. His throat dry, and feels like it's been rubbed with sandpaper. He draws a warm breathe. Shifting a little, resting his arms over his eyes—in his mind, a water, or maybe tea would definitely do him some good.

Seokjin blearily pushes himself to lift his head a bit, squinting to get used with the dim light, and swipe his vision to the nightstand. A groan scapes his lips when it's empty. No sight of glass or even bottle of water there. How great everything is!

He fidget uncomfortably at the feeling of the blankets sticking to their skin—feeling it warm and burning his skin at the same time, and he can only whimper at the way each breath feels like it's scratching over their throat. He feels so bad.

And before he can drown into self-pity, or a full breakdown, exhaustion takes over his body.

Seokjin wonders why night time feels so long. As the third time he wakes up, the world outside is still dark. There's no light filtering through his curtain, and the dorm is still blanketed with silent. He didn't manage to sleep much—it's prominent with how fuzzy he felt— getting woken up, this time, by a cramp. Great, guess his stomach wants to join the party too. He hissed, squirm a bit as he place a shaky hand on his belly, feeling it shift under his fingers. It makes a loud gurgling sound, and he can't help but whimper as a burp makes his whole skin shuddered.

"Ah ..", Seokjin moans to himself. His free hands now migrating to hovers over his lips. Knowing his body to well that /this/, will end up in a dangerous turn. His fingers still softly rubs over his burning belly, hoping his weak attempt can soothe whatever storm going on there—at least until one of the members wake up and barge into his room.

But everything in his body is going too fast, as a light press from him—push a bubble up to his throat, causing him to reluctantly burps. But it's wetter this time, and he feels like there's lava burning at the back of his throat. He grimaces. Frowning even deeper with how it brings a sour and foul taste all over his tongue.

He swallows hard, and tries to force it down.

But then again, his body never listen to him, as his stomach decides to erupt itself. He feels like throwing up.

He pressed his palm hard, as he jolts out of the bed. Ignoring how his muscles basically throb and scream in pain, and scrambles to the bathroom. A wet and sour gag racked to him, just in time when he arrived at the toilet. He didn't have it to care in him how loud the sounds of him slamming the seat open, and how gross the sounds of the next wet gag that echoes through it. He just need to throw up.

Seokjin pants heavily. Feeling his throat tight, and every fibers of his body prickles with nausea. He adjusted his footing and held onto the toilet seat for stability as the urge to gag grew stronger again. His mouth opened with a hollow-sounding belch, and a trickle of burning bile ran out of his mouth. He shivered, feeling all the gross sensation wrapping his body, along with the coldness from his fever and the bathroom temperature.

He dropped his head low, resting it against the cold toilet seat, as he curled himself small. Hoping that the pressure between his arms and his middle could make a difference. Could end the cramps and sloshing in it. He coughs—voice sounding too loud from his liking. But then it's silent, as he sways with nausea.

"Gosh .."

He mumbles after a good 2 minutes of silent, as he scrambles, hung onto the toilet seat as his body shook with a violent heave. Watery torrents of vomit showered into the water. He paused, choking on a breathe, before belched loudly, and threw up some more. It feels like his stomach squeezing itself dry, as it didn't give him any time to rest. Wave after wave pouring out of his throat, and growing thicker by each time as he starts to tossed out his food that he consumed the whole day.

"Fuck ..", he curses breathlessly during the lull, feeling dizzy and lightheaded after all the force he let out. He shakily flushed the mess below him, barely could register what it was that he threw up as his eyes brimming with tears.

The toilet didn't get a full time to finished it flushing, before Seokjin threw his head deep again. Rocked with shuddering retches as new wave of vomit fell from his mouth and splashed noisily into the toilet.

The second round was more intense than the first, but over more quickly. At last the heaving tapered off, leaving him exhausted but feeling slightly better. He let himself slump against the bathub. Not even caring at the edge of it digging his spine, as he catch his breath. The room is spinning. And it feels like someone just sucked his soul.

He stays there as he trying to regain his energy back. Slowly rising, flushing the toilet, and carefully wiping off his face with a towel, before he trudged over his bedroom door. He needs water. And some medicine that maybe he could find in the cabinet.

He doesn't even know if they had whatever medicine he needs, or for his symptoms. But he just need to take something to make himself feel better.

The walk downstairs feels awfully long and scary. As he sways with every steps, fingers tracing the wall carefully for support and guidance. The floor below him is moving slightly in his eyes. Everything is blurry and his limbs feel like jelly. He didn't realize he was swaying till he felt his body hit something.

Or perhaps someone.

The collision reaches him as he slowly lifted up his gaze, blinking drowsiness away. Hoseok is standing in front of him, "Hyung? Are you okay? Gosh, watch your step!", he chuckles, "You almost fall there, you're lucky you're on the last stairs and i was here"

Seokjin grimaces, for some reason, Hoseok's touch against his skin feels prickly, and his voice .. gosh, it's giving him headache.

"Hyung .. are you okay?", Hoseok's grins tapered down. Changed into concern. Especially when he realized how hot his hyung body is, and how he practically support all of his weight.

"No ..", Seokjin muttered, as he tried to push himself up, only to fail miserably. Hoseok caught him easily, supporting most of his weight. "It hurts..", he murmured in between pained breaths. "I want some water..", he croaks.

Hoseok nodded, as he guides him to the couch. "Okay .. okay. Let me get it for you, you can sit here"

Seokjin nods, sitting gingerly on the couch. Eyes closing as he rests a sweaty hand against his forehead. He feels sick again. Like he drank poison or something. His body feels like it's on fire.

Hoseok came rushing back a few minutes later with water, handing it to him. Seokjin takes it gratefully, taking a big sip.

He feels the cool sensation of the water run down his throat, before grimacing after few gulps as he feels it falls heavy in his stomach. It gurgles in protest. "What's wrong hyung?", Hoseok asks, worry clear in his tone. Taking the glass from the older as he could see his hand shaking.

Seokjin closes his eyes again, sighing, "Is there medicine?"

"Oh." Hoseok looks up, frowning, "What? Are you sick?"

Seokjin hums, letting his head lull to the side. He quietly takes Hoseok's hand and places it on his own forehead. If he didn't feel so sick, he would chuckle at the gasps that erupted immediately from the younger after, "Shit hyung .. you're burning up"

"Mhm", Seokjin agrees, before he let go of his hand. "I need medicine .. i just feel awful"

Hoseok's gaze softens, "What else do you feel? I will search it for you. Do you want something to eat as well?"

Seokjin's face scrunched up at the mention of food. "No .. i'm too nauseous to eat. Just .. fever reducer .. or anything i will take it", he murmured.

"Okay hyung, wait here"

Seokjin closed his eyes, feeling his head spin as he leans against the couch. He starts to feel cold again. Tiredness starts to settle in him, not realizing how bad his body must be feeling for all of it to start getting so tired now. He yawned widely. And before he knows it, sleep was dragging him down.

When he woke up, it was because of someone shaking his body, and—"Hyung! Hyung! wake up!"

He blearily opens his eyes, before squinting his eyes open. He winces in pain, before groaning softly when he realizes that he was still sleeping on the couch. His neck ached, and he feels like burning. "Fuck .. you're shivering", he could hear Hoseok grumbles around him, "Let me get you to your room hyung .. can you stand up?"

Seokjin blinks absentmindedly, letting Hoseok lifts his arm across his shoulders, and pulls him into an upright position with little effort. Once he was up, Hoseok lead him towards his bedroom, opening the door and guiding him inside.

Seokjin stumbled into his bed, and Hoseok closed the door behind them. "Let me change your shirts hyung .. you're covered in sweats", he heard Hoseok's footsteps approach his bed, and then feel a warm pair of hands pull at his shirt, before pulling it over his head.

He turned to the side, trying to keep his eyes open, and watched as Hoseok rummages in the wardrobe, pulling out some clean clothes.

"Hyung, please put these on".

His vision became slightly less blurry when he did as told. "Thank you..", he muttered, voice muffled by the pillow.

Seokjin felt the mattress dip, as Hoseok settled beside him, "I get you fever reducer and pain killer", he said, as he gently pushed Seokjin's hair aside, and started to rub his temples. "But it said that it can't be taken with empty stomach hyung .. let's try to eat something little, hm?"

Seokjin sighed, "I don't feel so good", he mumbled, as he closed his eyes. "I will throw it up later"

"I bring you bread here, just 2 bites .. how does it sound?", Hoseok asks, as he gently massaged the base of Seokjns temples.

Seokjin huffs, before nodding. The faster he gets this over, then faster he could feel better. He tugs the blanket close, wrapping himself in a coccoon as Hosek hands him the bread and the medicine. He took both with one hand while he ate the bread with the other. Hoseok patiently waits for Seokjn to finish the medicine and drink the whole bottle of water.

They were silent for awhile until Hoseok finally spoke, seeming proud that the older can get a few bites in his stomach. "Now you can go back to sleep hyung", he said gently, patting Seokjn shoulder.

Seokjin hums, letting his body falls to the soft his stomach starts to react, loudly, over the new guests. He grits his teeth at the grumbles under his palm.

"Hobi ..", he quietly calls the younger, making him stop at his tracks as Hoseok tidy up the room.

"Hm? Do you need anything?"

Seokjin huffs. The nausea is coming back. "Stay—", he chocked on his words. His eyes widen as he could feel the rush of his bread coming up to his throat. Instead of continuing his request, he throws the blanket off—completely ignoring how the world tilt harshly under his feet. A loud gag sounds throughout the entire room as it erupts from his mouth. He feels dizzy as he struggles to hold his balance. Hands reaching out for the nearby edge of the table.

Seokjin barely registers when he fell kneeling in front of the toilet. Barely get a time to lift the seat before his stomach contracts and squeeze spurts of vomit out of his mouth.

"Ah ..", he gasps, leaning over the bowl. Hands resting on top of his stomach, clutching the material tightly. Trying to stop the flow of vomit.

"Hyung!", Hoseok marches through the door, immediately scooping the older shaky frame under his arms. But Seokjin barely can register as he gave a long, deep belch, and puke showered into the toilet. A bigger wave than earlier, as the bread he just ate comes out of his lips just the same. Hasn't properly digested by his sick stomach. Hoseok scrunches his face, quietly patting his own stomach to not get affected by anything. His hyung need him.

"Hyung ... breath", Hoseok whispered, watching as Seokjin struggled to breathe. The older's grip tightening around the rim as his breathing quickened even more."Sshh .. you're okay, it's okay, let it out"

Seokjin shakes his head, eyes still closing as he hung onto the toilet seat, diving into it once more when his body shook with a violent heave. Thick torrents of water showered into the bowl. He paused, belched loudly, and threw up some more.

Hoseok bites his lips, getting alarmed by the amount of vomit the older let out, and the fact it wasn't slowing down either. Most of it was water. Seokjin gonna pass out of dehydration if he keeps going like this. "Hyung .. let me call Yoongi hyung, hm? Then we can go to the hospital", he asked cautiously.

He could already feel his hyung muscles tense at his suggestion as he lets another gush of vomit out of his mouth.

"No ..", Seokjin managed to croaks out when the wave in his body tappered down. His cheeks flushed and stained with tears. His ribs hurts. The rest of his body is screaming out in pain. He feels so weak. "Just want to sleep", he breathes. "I'll be fine", he added, as he pushes himself away from the toilet.

Seokjin tries to steady himself on his feet, but only ends up losing balance. Hoseok quickly holds onto him for support, keeping him from falling, and helping him walk to the bed.

"Can you set the bucket here?", Seokjin asks, that almost comes out like a mumbling with how hoarse his voice sounded.

Hoseok nods, rushes to the bathroom in instant, and comes 2 seconds later, setting the clean bucket with water in it near the bed. "Rest hyung, here, have your son with you", he cooed, placing the alpaca plushies near him, before rubbing circles on the elder's back soothingly. Seokjin chuckles at that, happily accepting his plushies and pressed it against his aching body. His muscles starts to relax.

"When you wake up, let's go to the doctor? I'm worried hyung", Hoseok says after few minutes of silence. But seems as if everything is becoming black for Seokjin. His brain couldn't process a lot anymore. He just nods weakly, letting himself sink into the soft sheets of his bed as Hoseok pulls the covers higher on him.

"Whatever you say Hoba .. agree", he mumbles, barely forming a coherent sentences before darkness consumed him completely.

He will deal with whatever it is when he wakes up.

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!seokjin #caretaker!hoseok

22 notes · View notes

jeonfiles · 3 years

Text

better left unsaid - jjk

genre: angst, rebounds

pairings: jungkook x reader (ft. namjoon)

warnings: arguing, alcohol, profanity, break ups, light smut, use of drugs, jungkook is a fucking dick, jungkook has major attachment issues, toxic relationships, oc cries a lot, namjoon has a heart of gold, unrequited love

synopsis: you knew you shouldnt have given him that second chance, not the third or the fourth either. no matter how much you try he always slithers his way underneath your sheets, arms wrapped around you.

word count: 2.7k

music: into your arms, so it ends?, you will fade, thinkin bout you, julia, my insecurities not yours, fuck u, goodluck, my dear i will think of you

note: uhh ive never written a y/n fic so bare with me, if u listen to the music you’ll be able to feel the story a lot more so yeah if u have time u should, not proof read

Light coming through the cracks of the blinds, making you squint your eyes when the daylight beams into your eyes, head resting on the kitchen island Looking up, you saw the clock ticking on the wall, 11:32 am.

You had stayed up till 5 am, waiting for him to come home, but seemingly, he never did. Reaching for your phone, you saw 4 missed calls from the one and only,

Jeon Jungkook, saved in your phone as “Koo <3″, Rows of messages too, all from the same contact.

Koo <3 [05:34 am]

baby pkck me up pleseee

im so wsated

Koo <3 [06.46am]

dont be mad at me jsut pick me up

i dont knw hewere the fuck i am

i love you

Koo <3 [07:31 am]

i got a rde home i’ll be home by 12

i need to talk to someone frsit

im sorry if i woke ypu dont be worried

You took a few moments to collect your thoughts, but there wasn’t much to collect. This whole thing, was a routine by now.

Standing up to make yourself a cup of coffee, you could literally not feel your own backside, you were so sore from the barstool you had been sitting on all night, and it made you groan in pain.

Two coffee cups right beside the kitchen sink, which you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up, because it was from the last time you had coffee together, which was 2 weeks ago.

The inside of the cup had a coffee crust at the top, and both your lip tint marks on the outside.

When you finish your cup of coffee while watching a bad telenovela, you go sit in your favorite chair and pull out a few books from the backpack hanging on the chair next to you, getting ready to get some studying done.

For a few seconds you imagine Jungkook hanging over your shoulder laughing at the way you write your A-s and R-s, or the way you always sign your homework at the bottom of the page.

And when you open them, there’s no one there. The only sound is from the refrigerator, making refrigerator noises.

You had met Jungkook 3 years ago, when you were at college orientation, senior year of high school. He also wanted to attend Yonsei, just like you.

And when he whispered to you about how bored he was, you couldn’t help but giggle, and then you got yelled at.

It was worth it though, because everyone was jealous of you afterwards,the Jeon Jungkook had talked to you.

Jungkook was an all-rounder as they called it; great physique, intelligent, charismatic and great at sports.

And god, he had a beautiful face, and such a filthy mouth, and it didn’t go long before you gave in to his seductive ways and slept with him. The morning after, he wasn’t in bed with you, and your heart sank.

Luckily, he was in the kitchen making you breakfast.

It was all bliss from there, showering you with love, gifts and kisses for two years, and you even ended up moving in together.

And now? You barely remember what he sounds like, smells like and is like.

A distant memory, just as distant as him.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted as you heard 3 knocks on your door. The exact same way he had always knocked when he had forgotten (or lost) his keys.

And even though you should have let him suffer a little, you rushed to the door to open it, and in front of you, was your biggest nightmare.

It was your love, crying his eyes out, bleeding from one of many cuts on his face, looking nearly dead. He collapsed into your arms, and you could only utter a few words, along the lines of:

“How could you do this to us?”

As he was laying curled up in a ball on the couch, face plastered up, ice bag on his knee, wrapped up in a blanket, you realized. this was your que to cry.

So, you did. You cried in silence, sitting across the room from him. You weren’t mad at him for coming home late, or getting in another fight, probably the 5th just these past months, you had gotten used to that by now.

There was a whole other reason that made you cry.

He smelled like Victorias Secret Bombshell, you recognized the scent because it used to be your favorite, however, now you’ve moved onto something less sweet, and more elegant, like Caroline Herrera.

He smelled like someone who wasn’t you, his girlfriend.

He smelled like another girl.

It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe because the Jungkook that had come home to you that morning wasn’t your Jungkook.

Your Jungkook was varsity jackets, star of the american football team (which your school was known for), selfless and humorous, and he would always take care of you.

Your Jungkook was not ungroomed hair, cigarettes and worsening grades. He was not cold and lifeless, and he would never make you cry.

Despite this, you were carding your fingers though his hair, thumb wiping away the blood on his lips while he was sound asleep as you slowly fell asleep next to him.

Maybe it was time to let him go.

Maybe.

You woke a few hours later from your phone vibrating.

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:01 pm]

Hey Y/N! Have you started working on the statistics assignment?

If you haven’t, would you be interested in meeting at the library tomorrow? You’re really smart and i’m kinda struggling ://

You [07:03 pm]

i finished it yesterday, but if you buy me coffee i’ll come help you hehe

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:04 pm]

You’re the best, I’ll bring you a machiatto!! :D

Maybe it would be nice for you to get out of the house, even though you hate the thought of it, and you would much rather just swim in your own sorrow.

But you did go out the next day, and you helped Namjoon get a decent grade, enough to pass with good margines, he thanked you by taking you out for ramen at a convenial store not too far away.

You thanked him for the ramen with a trip to the museum, and he thanked you for the museum trip with a picnic in the park at night, which led you to crying over Jungkook in his embrace, telling him every single little detail.

He made you realize it was time to let Jungkook go and make room for new people to enter your life.

You went home that night, and you found Jungkook passed out on the couch, and you could genuienly feel your chest tighten. Soft features which stood out under the moonlight glow, disheveled brown locks which hung down in his eyes.

He was gorgeous, until you saw the credit card on the table next to three bottles of soju and an empty beer can on the floor. And you knew what he had used the credit card for, though you didn’t want to say it out loud.

You cleaned everything up, and you threw the residue of the white powder right in the trash can, and you recycled his bottles and cans before finally, nudging him to wake up.

“Jungkook, wake up.” You spat coldly, or at least you attempted to.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes before opening his eyes, and s huge smile on his face. “Y/N, you’re home!” He reached to kiss you, but you backed away.

“Y/N?” Jungkook questioned, he didn’t quite understand what your intentions were.

“Don’t try anything Jungkook. This was your last chance, and you fucked it up, again.” The room turned ice cold. “I’m getting you help Jungkook, you need help. And then...”

He understood what kind of help you meant, and since he had now sobered up, he agreed, nodding. “And then...?”

“And then.” Your words were ludged in your throat. “And then I’m leaving you.”

His whole face dropped, smile turned into the frowniest frown you had ever seen, and it was all silent before his lower lip starts trembling, and his eyes start turning glassy.

“It’s alright. Sorry for burdening you.” Was all he could say before tears rushed down his cheeks, and he started shaking.

So you did what you always had done, and you wrapped your arms around him, head resting on your chest as he sobbed.

“Is there anyone else?” he cried out before another wave of sobs hit him.

This exact question made your stomach hurt, and your throat burn. You really had no idea.

Or you did, but you didn’t want to.

You loved Jungkook so much, but you couldn’t be with him in this state. So you did what every rational person would do in this situation.

“Yeah.”

You lied.

“Oh ok. I don’t have the right to be mad do I?”

You shake your head no.

“I love you Y/N. I’m sorry I’m so messed up.”

“It’s ok.” was all he said before he fell asleep in your arms again.

That night you slither your way out of his embrace and you pack your suitcase in the dark, bringing all your essentials, trying to be as quiet as possible so you didn’t wake Jungkook.

Packing enough for two weeks or so, you make the bed and leave your t-shirt “accidentally” in the bathroom, and you make sure all his clothes are folded, and then you sort his pencil case, throwing out old pens and worn out erasers.

You leave a grocery list on the counter, and you tuck him in good under the blankets after you took his jeans and socks off so he could sleep comfortably.

You placed his vitamins and medicine by the refrigerator so he’ll see it when he goes to grab something to eat.

Puffed up pillows, a pair of sweatpants, t-shirt and underwear is now placed neatly on his bed. Then you walk into the kitchen again, and you see Jungkook still sound asleep, sniffling a little still.

There’s one last thing, and it makes you cry. It makes you sob so loud you cover your mouth and muffle the sound you make. Sinking to the floor, your whole body is in contact with the cold tiles.

Only a year ago you could never imagine yourself even shedding a single tear over something as small as this, but here you were, on the edge of a panic attack.

Two worn out, matching couple mugs still placed by the counter. one if the first things you two had bought together, as well as the necklace hanging around your neck.

Finally, you stopped crying and started cleaning the mugs, lip trembling as you dried them and placed them in the back of the cabinet.

You unhooked your necklace and laid it down on the counter, and the biggest lump formed in your throat.

Actually, there’s a little detail you forget.

You kiss Jungkook on the forehead and leave a note on the coffee table.

“Dear Jungkook,

If you want to make this up to me (this does not mean a new chance!!) you call the number at the bottom of the page. No matter what happens, I’ll always have room for you in my heart. You even have your own little VIP lobby in there. And - if it’s urgent, call. I still care for you, and I always have. You were the best boyfriend I’ve had, but good things always come to and end, don’t they? Anyways, I’m tired so this letter fucking sucks, but deep down you know how much I love you. Remember to get groceries, shower, get fresh air and study. If I forgot something you can keep it, as long as you call the number and tell them you’re my friend. They’ll help you love. Try and get a part time job too, your student loan and your dad’s money won’t last forever. Good luck Koo. Hwaiting!!

-L/N Y/N <33″

You cringe when you think of the letter’s contents, before you roll out your suitcase out of the front door, whispering a faint “Goodnight Love.” as you close and lock the door behind you.

Standing by the elevator, you cry again. This time, louder, but you still reach for your phone and type out a text to the newly edited contact in your phone.

You [02:13 am]

coming outside now, im a crying mess and im super cold, is your car heated?

sorry for making you wait btw :((

Joonie <3 [02:13 am]

dont worry about the crying part, i’ll hold you. and yeah car is heated, so waiting here wasnt all that bad. you ready for this?

You [02:14 am]

i have no idea but i cant stay here any longer and i trust you sooo

lets start our new chapter. eh?

4 months later...

He had been good to you, great even.

You had been on expensive dates, picnics, had heart to heart conversations, and he’d been so understanding.

Today, it was your 2 month anniversary, and he had asked you on a magnificent date, which he had planned every second of.

At the end of the day, you told him how you don’t love him. He said it was alright. Namjoon loved you, so much, yet he understood you needed time.

You went to sleep that day, warm in Namjoon’s embrace, wondering how Jungkook was doing.

You felt bad, but you missed Jungkook.

You were both with someone new now, and you knew he was in good hands with someone stable enough to care for him.

Before your eyes closed shut, you shed a few quiet tears and hoped that you’d fall in love with Namjoon soon, and deep down you knew you would.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #namjoon smut #jungkook ff #bts ff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon ff #bangtan smut #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk ff

325 notes · View notes

beigehearts · 3 years

Text

Part I, The Awakening

so im in love with Ran Haitani i might not even get to any requests with the way im feeling so please bear with me. ill be writing fics to make myself feel better and that is all thank you for your understanding

TW / CW // unedited, violence, intense descriptions of gore Word Count: 2.7k

You find yourself in an alley. It's dark and dingy and smells something like rotten food and dead rats. It's a full moon tonight, and it shines brightly through the faded clouds. Snow is trickling down, so lightly that you would miss it if you weren't looking for it. You're laying in the snow of this revolting alley, laid out as if you're trying to make a snow angel.

How did you get here?

It's so cold that your fingers and toes have practically frozen off of your body. So numb, so cold, so alone. You sit up and look around; you can hear your bones creaking as you move around. Now that you're thinking about it... Who are you?

You stand up, ignoring the pain and aches of your body. You can't remember how you got here. You can't remember why you're hear. You can't remember even a week ago. Your mind is a blank slate and it makes you want to scream. Nothing. You remember absolutely nothing.

But you can't stay here. You're already one foot in the grave but you refuse to lay in it. You rub your arms and shiver. You're wearing nothing but a sports bra and some pajama shorts.

buzz buzz

Ah, a phone. You begin walking out of the alley and pull the phone from your pocket.

Addy

where are you??

are you okay???

I'm about to call the police

please answer

I'm worried about you.

sent at 2:04 am

That's not the only missed message. There are two others from who you can assume are friends. And a bunch of missed calls from those same friends.

It's 2:05 am on December 31st, 2007.

For some reason the date just feels wrong. Something about it just feels off.

There's an empty street with shops lining it, all of them with lights off and doors locked. You amble down it and are glad that you can't feel your toes. All you can feel in your bare feet is the crunch of the almost frozen over snow.

Maybe you'll be able to find something on your phone. Your cracked and slow smart phone opens up and you scroll to the maps app. The most recently searched address is 682 白桃通り. Alright, so that's where you'll go. Hopefully you can get out of this cold and warm up some.

You follow the directions, bearing with the 35 minute walk it directs. All of your limbs are starting to go numb, all of them feel like they'll fall off at any moment.

It's an apartment complex. You walk through the empty lobby and take the elevator to the sixth floor. 682... 682... Ah, here it is. The door has a large crack straight down the middle, and the doorknob is barely hanging on.

Hesitantly you push the door open and peek inside. You find the light switch and close the door behind you. The place is completely destroyed. The couch is flipped over and television is laying flat on the ground. Most definitely it will not be able to work. The walls have small holes in them... Bullet holes. There's blood splattered across the walls and the furniture.

But it's warm. So warm. You find the bedroom and hurry inside where it's even warmer. You rush to the bathroom and gape at your reflection.

Your nose is blue, there are icicles hanging from your eyelashes... The rest of your face is beat red and as you warm up it begins to burn. But that's not the extent of it. Your left eye is swollen, it's practically pulsating with it's black, purple and blue color. Your lip is cut down the side, you can see the flesh clearly as the skin splits.

You look down at your hands aimlessly and wonder, just where have you been? Your hands are the same color as your swollen eye and your knuckles are, blood smeared all over them.

As you examine your body, you begin to feel the pain setting in. Stinging hands, aching face, burning toes… It looks like you put up a fight with whatever happened. That thought alone seldom brings you comfort.

You look through the drawers of the bedroom, finding a sweatshirt and some sweatpants along with fuzzy socks. You waste no time in rushing to the shower, basking in the burn of the water and the aching of your sore muscles. The water runs brown and red, staining the shower tiles with it’s hideous color.

Once out of the shower you tend to your wounds. The cuts on your torso and face… But this bruise on your eye is only going to get bigger and swell until the point that you can’t see. You stand over your bathroom sink and grab a knife from the kitchen. Ah yes, here comes the worst part. You bring the knife up to your eye and try to stop the shaking of your hands.

This is necessary you remind yourself. You press the end of the knife into the wound, creating a decent sized slit in it. Immediately blood begins pouring out of it, blinding you as it stains your bathroom counters. Once it stops gushing by itself, you squeeze the rest of the blood out and put a bandage over it after disinfecting it.

After cleaning up the mess that looks like a murder (for the most part), you put on your clothing and jump right into bed. You definitely deserve a nice rest in this comfortable bed. After having done some sleuthing around the apartment, you realized that it’s yours based on the pictures hung of you and your friends. Not to mention the mug with your name on it.

Having the front door busted open and unable to be locked is a bit worrying but it couldn’t possibly get worse than it is right now. You wake up in the morning to the sound of pounding on your front door. Though it doesn’t really mean much because they burst into your house. What is up with people breaking into your house?

You sit up and squint at the suspects who enter your bedroom. There are two intimidating men who make their way over to you. One is an incredibly tall man, Wearing a black kimono of sorts that has something written on it that you can’t quite place. He has dark brown hair that’s pulled back into a single braid. On the side of his head is a dragon tattoo that you think must have been very painful to get.

The other man is much shorter than him, he has cropped black hair that covers his eyes and wears a tank top with a loose zip up sweatshirt.

“Looks like you’ve been busy.” Says the taller one with a chuckle. Though despite his words you can see worry in his eyes.

You look towards the shorter man and squint. He looks so tired, and so rundown. He cocks his head to the side and sucks on the lollipop hanging from his lips. “What the hell happened?”

They must be your friends, that’s the only way this makes sense. You stare at your hand and feel your mind go blank, because you’re asking yourself the same question.

The shorter one looks up at the taller, “Draken…”

He nods at his friend, knowing what he’s asking. The black haired one leaves the room and goes to investigate the torn up living room and kitchen.

So his name is Draken. He sits next to you and places a gentle hand on your knee. He furrows his brows and looks at your face, hoping for answers in just your expression.

“What’s going on?” He asks quietly.

You barely missed being shot… That you can remember but it’s more of an intuition than it is memory. You can hear the whizzing of the bullet by your ear and the loud blow of the gun, deafening you.

You look up at him and shake your head, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“What do you remember?” He coos.

You shake your head more vigorously this time, “I don’t know! I don’t remember it! I don’t remember anything!”

His eyes go wide, “What do you not remember? How much?”

You shrug his hand off of your leg and find yourself yelling, “Nothing! Fucking! Nothing! I don’t even know my own fucking name!”

Draken stands up and holds his hand out to you, “We call you Bruiser…”

After that they swept you from your home and plopped you on the back of 'Mikey's' bike. You were taken to Draken's house, he lives in an apartment above his bike shop. Draken leads you through the building with his hand resting on your back.

You sit down on his futon and they settle down as well. They called some people and instructed them to come over. Now you're wondering if you're with friends or enemies. You assume they're friends but how could you ever be sure when you don't have any memories?

You down on some convenience store onigiri, realizing just how hungry you are. The hunger is painful, and your body feels weak.

Someone enters the room and you look up from your food. He's tall as well, with long black hair and narrow eyes. He storms through the room until he's directly in front of you, looking down at you with his sharp gaze. When he opens his mouth you see that his teeth are just as sharp as his look.

"Bruiser what is going on?" He growls out, seeming angry. But he's purely concerned.

Instead of answering you take a bite of your rice snack. He smacks the triangular rice from your hand and grips your jaw. "What happened?"

You grab his wrist to pull his hand away but you're just not strong enough. "Fuck if I know! Who do you think you are?!"

He grits his teeth and how he answers you sends you into silence.

His lips press against yours roughly and your eyes shoot wide open. His kiss is rough and so are his lips, and something about it is familiar. He steps back and examines you for a moment.

You open your mouth to speak but close it. But then you open it again, “Are you a fucking idiot?”

Laughter echoes throughout the room, everyone but you finding this funny. Mikey wipes a tear from his eye and shakes his head, “We we’re going to wait before getting to that point, Baji.”

Huh? What?

You stand up from the bed and shoot a cold look at Baji. How dare he kiss you without asking or waiting for your consent! You raise your hand and bring it down fast, leaving a red and stinging mark on his face.

That laughter trickles out, and turns into an uncomfortable silence. But you don’t have to deal with this… You’re not sure what kind of life you were living but it doesn’t matter, your dignity is more important.

You gather up your belongings, (a jacket, phone, some onigiri, wallet, keys) and storm out of the bike shop. You can tell that something in that room changed when you slapped Baji, a light and fun atmosphere turned dark and heavy.

You don’t bother with looking at your phone or asking for directions, you’ll end up wherever your feet take you. Where they lead you to is another shop… well actually it’s not a shop at all, it’s a bar. You check your phone, 5:45 pm. That’s plenty late enough for a drink.

But before you enter you gaze up at the neon sign. It’s a lit up pint of beer that’s being tipped to the side. The white of the foam is begging to tell you something…

An image flashes in your head, a man being held up against it. He’s held up by nails in his hands and feet, plastered up there for everyone to see, like a tourist attraction. Blood drips from above, dripping onto the sidewalk and leaving a thick puddle.

But it’s only a fleeting image.

You enter the bar and look around hesitantly. It’s some rich type of bar where the booths are surrounded by tinted glass and the tables have complimentary shot glasses. You’ve definitely been here before. But the layout of the place is bugging you. Somethings off.

You earn yourself some looks as you find an empty booth in the very back of the building. It’s smaller than the others, the others can fit six to eight people but this booth can only seat two to four.

It's not exactly as bumping as a bar/club usually is. Sweet oldies play quietly while rich groups of people sit together, sipping of martinis and laughing in 'rich'.

It really is beginning to bother you, immensely. Everything seems so familiar but so foreign at the same time. It's as if the décor has been changed around a bit but holds the same aesthetic as what you can remember. What is it? What feels so wrong about this?

You're too lost in your own thought to realize that someone has entered the building and taken a seat not far from you. He's surrounded by other men who take quickly to drinking. They seem out of place but their demeanor is very comfortable.

After a few drinks (maybe a few too many) You set down the stack of money that resides in your pocket. Who are you to have so much cash stashed away in your pocket? Maybe a prostitute? That would explain why that man kissed you before. Baji.

Time to go home, you're pretty sure you remember how to get home even in this drunken state. Apparently you're a woman who can handle her alcohol, good to know. You find yourself skipping down the empty street of the usually bustling town. Everything seems to shut down at night, leaving it as a ghost town.

There's something so freeing in being a reborn human. While it's frustrating, it feels like you can be anyone or anything. No regrets to weigh on you, no trauma to destroy you, and no memory of the people who have most certainly used you. It's so freeing.

Snowflakes begin descending from the sky, brushing over your clothes and leaving the tiniest of wet spots. It's just like that night. Yesterday night. It seems like so long ago. But this time you aren't half naked and freshly beaten. The moon is shining so brightly that it's almost blinding even through the clouds heavy with snow. You've realized you need to learn to appreciate the small things... In just one day of your new blank slate life, you've had a lot of realizations.

Appreciate the small things. Your past doesn't define you. Perseverance is key. Life is fragile and short... all cheesy realizations you would hear a villain from a kids movie say. But those realizations are a lot for a person with no memories. Right?

Behind you there's the crunching of feet on the cold snow, following not too far behind. Once again your thoughts have consumed you and your senses, leaving you oblivious and defenseless.

The perpetrator begins gaining on you, until he's only steps away. Something else that you didn't know is just how fast your reflexes are. A hand reaches out to you and you duck, swinging your leg to knock the person off of their feet. But they easily evade your attack by jumping over your leg like a skip-it.

You jump back and hold your fists up, ready to fight whoever it is.

In front of you stands a tall man with fair skin. His hair is parted into two sections, black braids that hang over his shoulders. He's wearing a black outfit that makes it hard to see his physique but you can assume it's muscular and lean. But it's his eyes. Yes.

Cold, lifeless eyes that peer down at you as if you are no more than a pathetic bug. Yes. That's what it is. That's exactly what it is.

A long stick, cracking into the back of your knee and you fold. You're hit over the head with it but barely remain consciousness. That baton... Why are you remembering a cold and heavy baton assaulting you when you look at this man?

He puts a hand on his hip and cocks his head to the side, "Why are you alive Bruiser?"

#ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #haitani x reader #baji #baji x reader #mikey #draken #tokyo revengers #part 1 #the awakening #tokyo manji gang #bonten

52 notes · View notes

beatles-slash-fiction · 3 years

Note

Sorry, missclick.

It's "beatles. Fucking. Hard."

yknow like ugh poly beatles after a show giving all they got

I'm horny im sorry

Have a nice night bee we love ya

Ringo has noticed since joining the group that the four of them will be in one of two distinct moods following a show.

The first, which is the most common, is complete and utter exhaustion. This tends to occur if they’ve had a long day of travel, or if they’ve been mobbed by a particularly large crowd outside their hotel, or if they’ve quarrelled about the set order in their dressing room beforehand.

The second, which is a lot rarer, is pure joy and excitement. This tends to occur if they’ve given a particularly good performance, or if they’ve not been mobbed at all that day, or if they’ve had a few drinks and a joint beforehand.

Luckily tonight it’s the second category.

They’ve had an unusually quiet day and it’s been one of the few days on tour they’ve actually been able to spend some relaxing time together, and Ringo just had a feeling it was going to be a good evening. The show goes incredibly well, they manage to slip out the back afterwards without anyone noticing, and they’re all quite giggly during the car ride to the hotel.

And Ringo knows what that means.

He’s come to learn that when all four of them are in a good mood after a show, very very good sex follows.

Sure enough, as soon as they all stumble through the door of their hotel suite, Ringo finds himself pressed up against the wall by Paul, who starts kissing his neck.

“So,” Paul says before licking Ringo’s jaw. “Do we all want to take a shower together first, or shall we just get right down to it?”

Ringo’s dick twitches. He doesn’t think he’ll make it to the sex if he has to have a shower with these three.

“We’ll only have to shower again afterwards,” John points out, before tackling a giggling George to the bed.

“Very good point,” Paul agrees, reaching for Ringo’s belt.

Ringo’s head thumps against the wall as Paul’s hand finds its way inside his trousers and underwear, and his heart suddenly sounds so loud in his own ears. Paul’s strokes are slow and methodical, and although Ringo can’t see John and George, he can hear George’s little sighs and moans.

Paul unbuttons Ringo’s shirt with his free hand, licking one nipple then the other, and soon Ringo is standing in an awkward pile of his clothes as he’s wanked off slowly.

“Rich,” Paul says, softly, affectionately, touching their foreheads together. “Beautiful Rich.”

Ringo just about catches a glimpse of George on all fours with John very enthusiastically eating him out from behind, before realising he’s being terribly selfish. He drops to his knees and reaches for Paul’s belt, smiling as the younger man strokes his hair.

As he sucks Paul off, Ringo can’t help but reflect on how easy this always seems to be. When he’d been with the Hurricanes, group sex had always been a bit more awkward- no one seemed to really know who to be with first or what to do.

It’s different with the Beatles though. They have their own rhythm, and they can just read each other so easily. And it’s probably the first time Ringo has actually enjoyed giving blowjobs, rather than just doing it to please someone else.

One reflection he does have though is that it’s always very predictable. Not that there’s anything bad with that- but it is always usually the same, even if in a slightly different format.

They’ll pair off during foreplay so that they all get a chance to be with each other, and then they’ll normally fuck as two couples next to each other on the bed. The pairings will change but the basic formula stays the same.

Sure enough, after sucking Paul off for a few minutes, Ringo finds himself being pulled away by John for a kiss while Paul and George pass a bottle of lube between each other on the bed.

“Look at them together,” John purrs. “Fucking beautiful, eh? They’re gonna finger each other open ready for us, Ringo. Ready for us to fuck them into the mattress.”

Ringo could never get tired of watching Paul and George do this, but again it’s nothing new.

John seems to be too excited to notice that Ringo has something on his mind though, and wraps an arm around the smaller man to pull him close. He grabs their cocks in one hand and starts to stroke them together, and grabs Ringo’s arse with the other hand.

Ringo lets himself enjoy it as he keeps his eyes on Paul and George, who are clearly putting on a bit of a show for them.

“You take George, yeah?” John says, pupils blown wide as he gazes at Paul.

Ringo would say that the vast majority of the time he ends up fucking George. And that isn’t a bad thing at all; he adores fucking George, and even though they’ve all told each other that they don’t have favourites and everyone in their relationship is equal, Ringo knows that’s not completely true.

And if he had to pick a favourite...well. He knows who it would be.

But by the time Paul and George are lying side by side on the bed, and Ringo is climbing on top of George, he can’t help but notice George is pouting.

“What’s wrong?” Ringo asks, caressing the younger man’s cheek. “Are you tired?”

George shakes his head. “I was just thinking. We always do this.”

Great minds think alike.

“Eh?” John raises an eyebrow as Paul wraps his legs around his waist. “You mean have sex? Aye, we do that quite a lot.”

“No,” George says with a slight scowl. “I mean we always just end up pairing off like this. And it’s great, don’t get me wrong, but...I dunno. It would be nice if all four of us could have sex together. So we’re like a proper foursome instead of two couples having sex next to each other.”

And that’s when Ringo has an idea.

“There is something we could try,” Ringo says with a grin. “It’s something I did a few times with the Hurricanes.”

The others certainly look intrigued, and Ringo takes a minute to think through how he might choreograph this. If they pull it off, he’s sure it will be something really special.

“Okay,” Ringo says, trying to feign confidence. “John- keep going. Keep Paul on his back and fuck him like that, but keep your back straight. Don’t lean over Paul.”

John does so, entering Paul slowly, and George looks a little sceptical, clearly trying to work out where Ringo is going with this.

Ringo allows John to fuck Paul for just a few minutes before telling them both to hold still.

“Okay. Now, Georgie, you climb on top of Paul. Ride him.”

George raises an eyebrow. “With John still...?”

“Yes.”

George looks a little hesitant as he straddles Paul, glancing over his shoulder at John behind him.

“It’s alright,” Ringo says encouragingly. “You know what to do, Georgie.”

George fumbles with Paul’s cock, trying to line it up with his entrance, but he’s clearly nervous with all eyes on him.

“Here,” Ringo says softly. “I’ll hold this.” He takes hold of Paul’s erection with one hand. “And this.” He takes George’s hand with the other. “And all you have to do is sit.”

George smiles gratefully as he slowly impales himself, and Ringo can’t help but think the three of them look so beautiful together. Joined as one, as close as can possibly be.

“What about you though?” George asks. “You can’t be left out.”

“I won’t be,” Ringo promises, kneeling on the bed next to Paul. “Not if you give me a helping hand.”

He guides George’s hand to his own cock.

“So we just move?” John asks, sounding impatient.

“Yep,” Ringo chuckles. “Pretty much.”

It’s a little clumsy at first. John and George are moving at slightly different paces, although Paul doesn’t seem to mind, and George isn’t focussing enough to give Ringo a decent handjob.

But Ringo tells John to slow down a little and George to try and ride Paul a little faster, and they’re soon finding their rhythm, and George is stroking Ringo much more confidently.

The bed is creaking and shaking as they fuck, and it’s quite possibly the hottest sex they’ve ever had. It’s also the most intimate; it’s the first time they’ve all really been part of a sex act together at the same time.

Paul is the first to come; unsurprising since he’s got a dick inside him and George’s tight heat engulfing his own cock. John follows not soon after, and then George covers Ringo’s lips with his own and they’re coming together; waves of pleasure rolling through them.

Afterwards they untangle themselves and collapse in a heap on the bed, sweaty and exhausted.

“Ringo,” John says breathlessly. “You’re a fucking genius.”

Ringo beams as the others shower him with kisses.

#poly!beatles

28 notes · View notes

hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Hermann preparing for date night with Newt by selecting where to eat solely by what he has a coupon for. Or, ya know, frugal connoisseur Hermann. <3 ksci

inspired by a convo re: the fact that ksci @k-sci-janitor likes to make fun of me for never letting a coupon go to waste even if it means walking like 2 miles in the cold to use it :/ like im gonna NOT get a free Baja blast. (there is one small little allusion to some M rated stuff towards the end in this)

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

It’s not a rare occurrence that Hermann will treat Newt to dinner when the mood of dining out strikes them, but the point is that he’s doing it in a way that’s supremely…shifty tonight. Well, maybe not shifty. Weird? For one thing, he didn’t tell Newt where they were going until they were already on the bus headed there, for another, it’s their sharing-a-lab-anniversary, which tradition dictates they evenly split a bill (even if the origins have more to do with both trying to show up the other and take advantage and order the most expensive shit on the menu). The weirdest thing is definitely that, when Hermann got up to pay the bill five minutes ago—a small, folded piece of paper clutched in his hand—he left his wallet laying next to his wine glass on the table.

Newt stirs his straw around in his cup of soda, clinking ice cubes against the sides, and squints at the wallet. Did Hermann bring cash to pay with? He could’ve stuck some in his pockets without Newt seeing, or his bank card, even, which would explain the forlorn wallet. Or maybe forgetting the wallet was totally an accident, and he’ll be back in a few seconds to pick it up and pay for real when he realizes. That’s probably it.

When Hermann comes back to their table, though, he doesn’t bother with his wallet—he takes his seat, picks up his wine glass, and tips it at Newt. “That was quite lovely, wasn’t it?”

Newt hums. “It was.”

“I quite liked the fish I got,” Hermann says.

“I loved my noodles,” Newt says. “We should try to copy the recipe back at the base.” He sets his straw delicately on the table. “How’d you pay without your wallet?”

“My wallet?” Hermann says. He makes a show of catching sight of the wallet, arches his eyebrows in mock surprise, and picks it up. Here we go. “Oh, goodness. Did I forget this? Well—it’s not as if I needed it…” He tucks it neatly into his inner jacket pocket.

“Hermann,” Newt says, rolling his eyes. “What’d you do, get a hundred-percent discount by reminding them we saved the world a few months ago?” Hermann shakes his head, and takes a long sip of his wine. “Did you write a check? Did you pretend we got food poisoning or something?” Hermann shakes his head again, and this time, his mouth begins to creep up into a smug smile. Newt remembers the piece of paper. “Dude. You got us a fucking Groupon. No wonder you were being so weird about what I was ordering!”

(“I think we ought to stick with the entrees labelled B, Newton,” Hermann had said, flipping a page forward in Newt’s menu. “They look—er—far better.”

“More expensive,” Newt had said.

“What’s it matter? I’m paying.” Hermann had pointed at the noodle dish Newt had ended up getting. “Look, I reckon you’d like that.”)

Hermann finally grins triumphantly. “I did—and saved us quite a decent from our ‘date night’ fund. Pity it didn’t extend to dessert, I suppose, but we could always find some ice cream at the commissary later.”

Newt can’t even pretend to be exasperated. The noodles rocked. And they would’ve rocked even more if he knew that Hermann was saving them a few bucks. “You’re such a weirdo,” Newt says, shaking his head, though he’s mirroring Hermann’s grin. “Is that why you picked this place?”

“Not entirely,” Hermann says. He takes a long, slow sip of his wine. “Mostly I picked it to make a point.”

“About?”

“About my being right.”

Newt sighs. Only Hermann would dredge up old arguments on Lab Anniversary Night. It wasn’t even an argument, really—all that happened was that Hermann asked Newt to hand him his glasses cleaning cloth from his parka, and it took Newt almost ten minutes because Hermann’s pockets were so jam-packed with a million little coupons for everything from granola bars (which they can get from the mess hall for free) to mouthwash (which Newt can snag from the commissary, also for free, whenever they need it) that he couldn’t find anything but. A majority of them were expired. Then Newt remarked on how Hermann was nuts, and Hermann remarked on how Newt didn’t understand the value of making smart financial decisions, and they went back and forth for a bit like that. This was a whole week ago, too. In terms of Newt and Hermann arguments, that’s more than ancient history. “Are we really talking about the fucking coupons now?” Newt says.

“Frugality pays off,” Hermann says, cryptically. “Now we really ought to head out. The forecast is calling for rain, and I don’t fancy getting caught in it.”

They get caught in the rain anyway. Newt invites himself over to Hermann’s bunk to dry off, because Hermann bought a space heater back when they were stationed in Russia, and it travelled with him here to aid through the long nights of overpowering A/C. Right now, it’s aiding Newt through stripping out of his wet clothes. When he’s down to just his boxers, he snags the quilt from Hermann’s bed, and waits for him to finish up in his little en suite bathroom to hopefully catch a hot shower. One of the unexpected side effects of the world not ending and most nonessential personnel leaving the ‘dome in doves is that they almost never run out of hot water anymore. Newt can take a shower at midnight and not freeze his ass off. It’s awesome, really.

Hermann emerges from the bathroom in a dorky little pair of pajamas, a dressing gown knotted at his waist. “Oh, Newton,” he sighs, and prods at Newt’s blanket cocoon with his cane, “not my grandmother’s quilt.”

“I’m dry!” Newt says. “Mostly!”

He gives up the quilt to Hermann and ducks into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stuck a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet at some point, for when he was too sleepy and lazy after makeout sessions to go back to his bunk, and sure enough he finds it alongside a suspiciously generic-looking tube of toothpaste. It doesn’t even have a label. He doesn’t think much of it until he starts to use it, which is when he immediately gags and begins to rinse his mouth out with hot water. “What the hell is this toothpaste?” he chokes out. “It tastes—awful.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. He ducks his head into the bathroom, looking a bit sheepish. “Well. I found a coupon for that brand, and I know it’s not very, er, pleasant, but—I saved forty percent, Newton.” Newt continues to rinse his mouth out, this time adding some mouthwash into the mix. “Oh, really, now you’re just being dramatic. It’s only toothpaste.”

“Dude,” Newt says. “I feel like I just rubbed, like, acid cement all over my gums.”

“Ah,” Hermann repeats, guiltily.

A bit later, Newt goes in to kiss Hermann goodnight as they settle into Hermann’s bed together, but pulls back with a sad little pout when Hermann merely flinches away from him. “Oh, Newton, I’m sorry,” Hermann says, quickly wrapping his arms around Newt and kissing his neck. It softens the blow somewhat. “It’s that bloody toothpaste. You still smell like it. You’re right, it’s rubbish.”

“Tell you what,” Newt says, grumpily. “I’ll buy you a brand new tube tomorrow. My treat.”

Newt mostly forgets about the coupon thing for a bit. The odd little item crops up in the lab that makes him roll his eyes fondly at Hermann, but nothing as major as the Groupon or toothpaste. Hermann’s preferred tea brand swapped out for something Newt’s never heard of in a flavor that Hermann clearly detests, if his face when he drinks it is anything to go by, for example, the chocolate digestives Hermann keeps in his desk replaced with plain ones, his new box of chalk all in a salmony shade of pink and weak enough to snap apart under his fingers if he presses down too hard on his chalkboard. When Newt asks about the changes, the answer’s always the same: Hermann had a coupon for them, or they were less expensive than his usual. Newt just wishes he could understand where this sudden bought of thriftiness came from. It’s not like it was back during the war, where they had to pinch pennies and save in every area they could if they wanted to supplement their nonexistent funding. They’re actually getting paychecks now, on behalf of the UN’s guilty conscience! They have free room and board! They even put a few neat bucks away from some (heavily-redacted) interviews they did back in late January.

What Newt’s getting at is Hermann doesn’t have to limit them ordering out sushi to only places with free delivery on date nights, or skimp on his pizza toppings (four-topping down to two) so they can use a better coupon, or buy any of those subpar teabags or digestives or toothpaste tubes. But he just…is.

The tipping point occurs on a Saturday night about a month after the Groupon incident.

“Nn. Hermann. Do that again.”

“Do—?"

“Yeah.” Newt groans, turning his head to the side. “Oh, shit.”

“Newton—” Hermann kisses his throat. “Newton, you’re—”

“Wait.” Newt pauses. “What is that?”

“Oh, er.” Hermann pulls his hand away. “You mean the—the—?”

“Yeah. It feels…weird.” He frowns. “That is not what we used last time.”

“Oh. No. It isn’t.” Hermann clears his throat. “Well, Newton—see—we were out, so I thought I’d—I’d buy a larger bottle, to last us longer, and I happened to find a coupon for this lovely—er—gallon-sized—”

“You’re kidding,” Newt says.

“Only I thought it was a very frugal purchase,” Hermann says. “We do tend to, er, burn through it rather quickly.”

Newt rolls away from him. “Dude. We need to have a talk.”

Some brief amount of time later, they sit together on the end of Hermann’s bed, clad in their pajama bottoms and, in Hermann’s case, one of Newt’s sweatshirts. Newt waits until Hermann meets his eyes blushingly before he proceeds. “What is up with you lately?” he says. “You’ve been acting so—weird. Weirder than usual,” he amends. “Since when have you cared about saving a couple bucks on random shit like pizza?”

Hermann fidgets, and sighs, and finally reaches to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieves a piece of paper folded into quadrants, and for a wild moment Newt thinks it might be another Groupon. “Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Hermann says. “I was going to wait until it was all finalized—but it’s close enough now, so I suppose there’s no harm in it.” He thrusts the paper out at Newt, and Newt—still wondering if it’s not another Groupon—unfolds it with surprise to find what looks like a flight itinerary. Two tickets for Hong Kong to Boston, with a short layover; then two more tickets a week after they land for a short trip from Boston to some town in Maine Newt recognizes as being seaside. They’re made out to Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler and purchased a little over a week ago.

“You kept telling me you wanted me to meet your father,” Hermann says, and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “And—I thought it might be nice, to have an—er—vacation, for a few days. We’ve certainly earned one. And it’s not as if we have any truly pressing obligations at the moment that can’t be put on hold for a week or two. I was planning on booking us a little cottage up in Maine—or maybe just a hotel room, I hadn’t decided—but we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“And you’ve been saving up for it?” Newt interrupts.

“For a few months now,” Hermann says. “Since February, in fact.”

“And that’s why…?”

The tips of Hermann’s ears turn red. “Every penny helped,” he says.

Newt carefully re-folds the itinerary, sets it aside, and then kisses Hermann soundly. It would be safe to say that Hermann’s thoughtful, romantic moods tend to be on the spontaneous side, probably as spontaneous as they are in Newt, so when one strikes Hermann (and in such a perfectly Hermann way as this one) Newt doesn’t like to take it for granted. “Of course I wanna go on vacation with you,” Newt says. “You rock. Seriously.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hermann says, looking pleased.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

39 notes · View notes

dnvrsmedia · 4 years

Text

I’m not Letting You Get Away

Natasha x reader

Summary: Natasha and reader are fwb and the reader has feeling for her.

warnings : implied smut & angst with a happy ending!

An: FINALLY IM DONE WITH THIS FIC!!! I went through hell to try and finish this fic & it’s finally done. It would mean the world to me if you gave me feedback! as always request are open!

You fall backwards on the bed; panting because of the activities that you and Nat partook in. For a second you both lie there in utter bliss. The world around you doesn’t matter; it’s just the two of you...until she gets up to get her clothes on and leave you. You knew going into this type of relationship that Tasha just simply doesn’t do relationships. But here you are, in love with a girl who thinks she’s incapable of loving or being loved.

The two of you have been friends with benefits for a little over 2 months now. It started on a drunken night and here the two of you are now. You, pathetically looking at her as she puts her shoes on. “Stay.” You mutter out. You knew you’d regret this as soon as you saw her body stiffen. She continues putting on her other shoe as if she didn’t hear you. When she finishes, she gives you a peck on your forehead and heads to the door.

Before she can get very far, you grab her arm. “Please, Nat, why don’t you stay this once?” You smile gently.

“Y/n... you know I can’t.” she caresses you’re cheek. You move from her hand and sit up from the bed.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?” You feel tears building up in your eyes. Why do you always do this to yourself?

“It’s not that I don’t want to it’s just- it’s just if I stay, the team’ll think we’re dating.” She says defensively as she sits back on the bed, adjacent to you.

You look back down at your hands and shyly ask. “What’s so wrong with that?” You could feel your heart beating in your throat.

“Y/n...” Nat calls for you, but you refuse to look into her eyes.

“Tasha, what’s so wrong with us being together?” You look back up at her to try and find something, anything, in her face. All you get back is a blank stare.

“I-I don’t think we can keep doing this.” You blurt out. Your tears are fully streaming down your face now. She goes to wipe your tears, but you move away again.

“Y/n, please...” Nat says, her voice full with concern and hurt.

“I can’t force you to love me the way I love you. I’m sorry, Tasha, I knew this from the start.” You wipe your tears with your hand.

“You love me?” Nat looks back into your eyes. There was silence for a moment. It was just the two of you looking at eachother, but this time, you weren’t feeling bliss. This time, you were feeling pain and heartbreak. Nat quickly mutters a “Sorry” and leaves you alone in your room.

A few days pass, and you haven’t left your room since. Your phone has been blowing up ever since, but you can’t be bothered to answer anyone. You were planning to have no one come and visit you, but Stark threatened to override friday the other day. So, today you kindly asked friday to only give access to your best friend, Bucky. Within fifteen minutes of you doing so, Bucky was in your room with a bag from your favorite Chinese restaurant in the city.

“God, Y/n you look miserable.” Bucky points out. You groan and go in to give him a hug. You were wearing one of Nat’s hoodies she left a couple of nights ago and your favorite leggings. Your hair was in the messiest of buns, and your face and chest were red from the excessive crying you’ve been doing.

“Gee thanks you really know how to make a girl feel good.” You sarcastically say as you roll your eyes. Bucky ignores you as he sets everything up on the coffee table in front of your couch. The both get situated and start to dig in. You soon take the remote and put on Ratatouille.(It’s my comfort movie don’t judge)

After about a half an hour, Bucky noticed that you weren’t paying attention to the movie one bit. You were just looking blankly at the screen. He takes the remote and shuts the TV off. “Okay, I didn’t want to rush you, but what’s wrong Y/n?”

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” You try and smile, but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. You don’t know who you’re trying to fool, your best friend is a super spy. After Bucky stared straight into your soul, you finally crack.

“I told her, Buck. I told her I loved her and she left.” You averted your gaze to your fingers like it was the most interesting thing on the planet. You hear Bucky shift on the couch to engulf you in a hug. You instantly start crying.

“You know, she’s not taking this very well either.” Bucky says as you calm down. You laugh haughty. “No i’m serious Y/n. She’s been in the training room for hours on end. She hasn’t been talking to anyone either. I think she just needed time to think. I really do think the two of you should talk it out.” Bucky rubs your back.

“The two of you were made for eachother. Don’t let her go.” And with that, Bucky was out of your room. You keep thinking of what he said for hours after he left.

The next day, you decide it’s finally time to leave your room. You take a quick shower, making sure to at least make yourself look decent. You hands were trembling as you put on your shoes. Your nerves were through the roof. God, you hope Bucky is right.

You take your phone from the charger and head downstairs to the main kitchen. Lucky for you, everyone was sat at the table for lunch. Everyone including Nat. Everyone greeted you as you took your share in the kitchen. As you were grabbing your things, you heard a small “hey” from a familiar voice behind you.

You turn around to see Nat herself. “Hi” you sheepishly reply.

“Can we-” she sighs “Can we go to our spot and eat lunch together? I wanna talk to you.” Nat asks and you nod your head. As soon as you finish collecting your food, she takes your hand and leads you to your spot on the roof.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you in a while.” She asks as the two of you eat your lunch together.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You see her cringe at your words. “How about you? Buck told me you were overworking yourself.” You ask as she scoffs.

“I wasn’t overworking myself...well, maybe a little, but i’m fine.” You giggle at her. She smiles back at you. She missed hearing you laugh. She missed you.

“I just want to say sorry for just storming out.” Nat looks away from your face. “I just don’t remember the last time someone loved me.” You put your hand in her lap.

“I’ll always love you no matter what, Tasha. I don’t even want you to feel like you need to love me back either. Trust me, I understand. You reply as she looks back into your eyes.

“That’s where you’re wrong, I do love you Y/n. I’m just scared.” Nat caresses your cheek.

“Scared of what?” You search her face for any sign of remorse.

“I’m scared that something will happen to you. My life isn’t particularly lucky you know.” She chuckles. You stare back at her face, taking in all of her beauty.

“You two were made for eachother. Don’t let her go.” The words of Bucky reply in your head. You know you can’t let the love of your life slip away.

“I’m not letting you get away.” You whisper as you lean in to kiss the love of your life.

The kiss lasts for an eternity, yet left you wanting more. No more being afraid, no more hiding. “I love you Natasha Romanoff.”

“I love you Y/f/n Y/l/n.”

#natasha romanova #natasha angst #natasha fluff #natasha x fem reader #natasha x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barns imagine #bucky x y/n #natasha fic #avengers x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #mcu x reader #mcu fic #natasha x reader smut

260 notes · View notes

sinsforjeon · 5 years

Text

Discipline {Three}

[This one sucks but I sWEAR it gets better 🤩 and thank you for over 700 followers💖👄💖 ily!]

Your father has had enough and so he goes to greater measures to make sure you leave your bad ways behind.

Ot7Xreader, foul language (god is always watching), future smut, dom!bts, brat!reader, sadhours! softhours! smexyhours!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“This is what he meant when he said I would be needing my energy?”

“What? Were you expecting to be fucked or something?”

Your mouth hangs open at his crude words and you wish you were at least 3 feet taller so you could strangle him.

“You’ll catch flies, doll.”

You are more speechless at the mess that is presented to you. Clothes everywhere, empty boxes of pizza and a bunch of crumbs.

“What the fuck? Are you guys pigs or something?”

“Get to work, you only have 30 minutes!”

“You expect me t-“

“Ok! Good luck, doll!”

With that he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. You now understand why Jungkook had to room with you, his room was trashed. So much for being a ‘king’

You move around the space, picking up a months load of laundry. How anyone could function in such environments is beyond you.

You quickly clean the room, well as quickly you could anyways before Taehyung comes bursting through the door.

“Wow, it looks pretty decent.”

“I’m sure it does. Am I done now?”

“Done? We’ve only just begun.”

He smiles as he leads you to your next mission. Cooking. You can’t cook for shit and you try to reason with Taehyung but he waves you off with a smile and leaves you alone once again.

There’s a bunch of vegetables and cooking utensils laid out in front of you and you start to panic, not knowing which one to begin or end with.

You huff in annoyance as you remember that you don’t have to do anything they demand of you but just as you’re about to quit, Namjoon’s words ring in your head.

“Be good and I’ll reward you.”

Reward? What kind of reward? Suddenly your head is filled with filthy thoughts and you groan at your sexual frustration.

“Fucking Kim Namjoon and his stupid words.”

“That’s a bit too harsh, no?”

You look at the man in confusion, you had met him but their faces were taking some time getting used to.

“Can I help you?”

“I think I should be asking that question.”

He says as he gestures to the messy counter and you sigh defeatedly.

“To be fair, I tried to warn Taehyung.”

“Here, I’ll help you.”

His words shock you. He’s being nice and you can’t help but to think that it’s an act.

“Alright buddy, what do you want?”

“To help?”

“Sure you do, come on, out with it.”

He eyes you with an amused smile before chopping up whatever vegetable he was holding, taking over your spot.

“Since when do you act all obedient, hm?”

He asks and you glare at him unable to find your words.

“You look like an angry cat, it’s quite cute actually.”

You curse him in your head before throwing him a forced smile.

Dinner goes surprisingly well. All thanks to Jin of course. There are no fights and although Jungkook and Taehyung tease you, you manage to keep your cool.

You smile when you’re dismissed to your room and quickly hop in the shower before bed. You are about to make your way out when the door suddenly bursts open.

There he is. Staring. Staring?

“Nice tits.”

“Jungkook- get out!”

“I need to piss.”

You cover what you can, feeling vulnerable to his wondering eyes.

He smirks and moves closer to you until he has you trapped between his body and basin.

“You know,” He trails off as he takes his finger down your arm. His touch so gentle that it leaves goosebumps behind.

“You’re gonna have to get used to me, hm? We are cuddle buddies after all.”

“What does that have to do with thi-“

“All I’m saying is you might wake up with my head between your thighs.”

You gape at him and he winks before placing a soft kiss on your nose.

“You might want to leave now, unless you want to see my di-“

“I’m leaving!”

You groan as you quickly get dressed and get in bed. You say a quiet prayer for whatever is to come because that’s how unpredictable Jungkook is.

You feel the bed dip besides you and you’re glad that he keeps his distance and as you are about to doze off you feel his arms around and you’re too tired to fight him off.

The next morning you are woken up by something warm and soft against your neck. You slowly come to your senses as your eyes adjust to the light that pours into the room.

“Ah, you’ve woken up, slept well?”

“W-What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer but rather gets on top of you, his hands on either side of your head as he holds himself up.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

He asks as he moves his face closer to yours. You swear he can hear your heart at how loud it beats.

He smirks at your loss of words and goes back to abusing your neck, probably leaving a hickey just like Namjoon had the previous day. You moan and he freezes on top of you. The embarrassment that courses through your body is immeasurable.

“Fuck, so that’s how you sound when you want to get fucked.”

Your breathing starts to pick up and you clench your thighs to relieve the ache between your legs.

“Something the matter, sweetheart?”

“Jungkook-“

“I asked you a question.”

“Touch me.”

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time as he puts his hands in your pajama pants.

He finds your clit with ease and he begins to rub it over your panties. The fabric adding on to the pleasure and your back bows as your legs widen more.

“Feels good?”

“Y-Yeah.”

You bite your lip as your moans threaten to escape and you’d rather die than be caught with Jungkook’s hands down your pants.

You feel your juices drip and ruin the cotton material that now sticks on you like second skin.

“You’re making a mess, sweetheart.” He chuckles as he picks up the speed of his finger and he hears how your breath stutters.

“So pretty, bet your pussy is just as pretty.”

His words have you clenching around nothing and you whine as your climax gets closer.

“Want you to cream and get this messy on my cock, think you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nod enthusiastically and he hums in approval. You whimper his name as you buck your hips to meet his hand.

“Patience, Y/N,” But his words have you whining and begging even more.

Your climax hits you unexpectedly and you hide your face on the crook of his neck as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

Your legs tremble as they slam shut, trapping Jungkook’s hand who doesn’t still his movements and you cry out at how sensitive you are. You never were one for overstimulation.

He continues until you cum again, this time it’s much quicker than before and you make sure to push his hand away as you pant against his skin.

“You might wanna go change, you’re drenched.”

“Fuck off.”

tags: @taeriffococean @snowythellama @slutforjjk @crazy-fangirl-10 @aretha170 @my-bts-babes @joonsbias @itneverends15713 @ashbash9909 @beautyyounggirl @shooklier @optimisticbouquetgentlemensworld @im-emo-motherfuckers @ravennightmares @dionymint @jiminiesthiccthighs @tall-iirose3773

#bts angst #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #dom!bts #jhope smut #jimin smut #jin smut #jungkook smut #ot7 x reader #sub!reader #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #taehyung smut

778 notes · View notes

clumsyclifford · 4 years

Note

another prompt for mashton if you're interested 👀 the chorus of Favorite Place by atl (I was listening to it earlier after reading your latest post and the lyrics hit me so hard)

me: im gonna go back to writing malum/lashton now! you: nice try adkgjadl;kgjafkgjd anyway FUCK you anon this song is my lifeblood so there was no way i could refuse this prompt oh god sorry this is kinda really emo

It’s been three days, and Michael misses Ashton.

He’s been trying not to think about it, because the breaks between touring are supposed to be their time for R&R, and he knows Ashton wants to spend time with his family, his brother and sister, and just be at home, comfortable in the knowledge that there are no shows and he can shower whenever he wants. Michael has been trying to fall into that mindset too. It’s amazing to wake up at noon, stay in bed for two hours, and then play video games all day before going to sleep at 2am. Every time they tour, Michael has to choose between kicking all his unfortunate habits or maintaining them and being fucking worn out at all hours of the day, so it’s nice to just veg out.

But he misses Ashton so much.

It’s in the little things, Michael supposes, like how Ashton has somehow perfected the ratio of milk to coffee better than Michael ever can, and the way Ashton will run his fingers through Michael’s hair while they’re watching a movie, and the broad smiles Ashton will give him onstage, just before they go into She Looks So Perfect, flushed and sweaty but so, so happy. Michael’s gotten used to Ashton in everything he does, and now Ashton’s not here, and Michael misses him. It hurts how much he misses him.

The worst part is that Ashton doesn’t even live that far. He’s farther than Luke and Calum, who are both walking distance, but Ashton’s only a fifteen minute drive, and Michael could do that so easily. He could go and come back fifty times a day. But he doesn’t want to impose on Ashton. Ashton deserves the chance to spend quality time with his family, and Michael should work on not being so fucking clingy.

That goes fine until two in the morning, and Michael is sitting in bed, knees drawn to his chest, very very close to a mental breakdown. At least he’s able to recognize the signs in himself; his heart feels like it’s cracking down the center, all the blood spilling out; he’s had a twisting, churning sensation in his gut for hours, like the feeling just before you’re going to cry; with every second that passes Michael feels more and more compelled to curl up under his blanket and never leave. He knows what it feels like to break down.

And he knows the best person to talk him down from it.

The only reason he hasn’t dialed yet is because he’s spent about three hours trying to convince himself not to, but now it’s pitch black outside, the entire house is silent, and Michael’s going to start crying in about three minutes, he can tell.

He dials.

Even as it rings he feels like an asshole, and Ashton probably won’t pick up. It’s two in the fucking morning. Ashton’s the only one with a halfway decent sleep schedule, and Michael is going to worry him for no reason when he wakes up in the morning to a missed call from Michael.

“‘Lo?”

“Ashton?”

“Michael.” Ashton’s voice is groggy. He clears his throat. “Hey,” he says in a whisper. “What’s up?”

Michael shakes his head. “I don’t — I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Ashton says without missing a beat. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” Michael says, biting down hard on his lip like it’ll keep him from crying. He doesn’t know what else to say, so he just repeats, “I miss you.”

“Okay,” Ashton says. “I miss you too, Mikey. Do you want to come over?”

Michael doesn’t trust himself to drive in this state. “No.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes. If you —”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Ashton says. “Do you want me to stay on the call?”

It’s tempting, but Michael doesn’t want to distract him. “That’s okay,” he says, aware that his voice sounds unspeakably small. “See you.”

“I love you,” Ashton reminds him.

“I love you,” Michael echoes, and then the call cuts out, and Michael forces his legs to stretch out until they reach the floor, and carries himself as silently as possible to the front door. The last thing he wants is to wake his parents.

By the time Ashton’s car pulls up to the curb, Michael has resumed his previous position on the stoop: knees against his chest, mouth set in a tight line, gut still threatening to make him cry. Ashton gets out, in joggers and what Michael recognizes as his pajama shirt, and is by Michael’s side in an instant.

“Hey, Mike,” he says, and his voice is so soft, and Michael wants to cry. “Do you want a hug?”

“Yeah,” Michael says. His own voice cracks in the middle. Ashton gathers him up in his arms and Michael releases his hold on his knees to wrap his arms instead around Ashton, who’s comforting, and Ashton who’s warm despite the chill in the nighttime air, and Ashton who’s here, who smells like cleanliness and sunshine, who feels like coming home more than actually coming home did to Michael.

Ashton doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything, just holds Michael tight against his chest, and Michael feels that writhing gut feeling start to dissolve. After three hours of trying to determine if he’s going to cry or not, it feels immensely relieving to know he won’t.

Finally, Ashton murmurs, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Michael does, and he knows Ashton will listen. He nods. “You don’t have to keep hugging me,” he says, even though he doesn’t want to let go. Ashton pulls away but stays sitting next to him, one hand palm up on Michael’s knee. Michael laces their fingers together. It’s grounding, to be with Ashton. Michael feels better already.

“I’m sorry for taking you from your family,” Michael says. “And waking you.”

“Don’t be,” Ashton says. “They’re not up right now anyway. And I’ll always be here for you, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Michael says. Technically he knows it, but it doesn’t hurt to hear Ashton repeat it. “I just missed you.”

“That’s all?” Ashton says, soft. “You just missed me?”

Michael shrugs. “Yeah. You’re warm, and I’m cold, and you make me smile, and I missed you. A lot. I know that’s clingy. I didn’t want to disturb your family time so I didn’t call earlier.”

“God, Mike,” Ashton says. “Did you think I didn’t miss you?”

“You spend so much time with me on tour, though,” Michael says.

“Because I like you.”

“But don’t you want a break?”

“Did you want a break from spending time with me?”

“No.”

“Then why would you think I’d want one from you?”

Because you’re like sunlight and I’m just a grey sky, Michael thinks. “Dunno.”

Ashton leans over and presses a gentle kiss to Michael’s forehead, and Michael sighs and leans heavily against him. “How many times can I tell you I love you before you believe me?” he says quietly.

“I believe you,” Michael says, which is true. There’s no way Ashton couldn’t love him, because Ashton can’t help but love. It’s built into his DNA. “I’m just not the only person in your life. It’s not fair to assume —”

“Michael, listen to me,” Ashton says. He reaches over with his free hand and tilts Michael’s face towards him, feather light on Michael’s chin. “You are the most important to me. I would and will drop anything for you. I mean that now and forever. Anytime you need me, I’ll be there.”

Michael gazes at Ashton, dim in the dark, and feels the chest-cracking-open feeling again, but this time it feels better, like fixing instead of breaking. “You’re my favorite,” he tells Ashton.

Ashton smiles. “Good, because you’re mine.”

Michael’s not sure which of them moves first, but suddenly he’s kissing Ashton on his doorstep, and he feels like he’s being knit back together, piece by piece, glued in place by Ashton’s hand in his, Ashton’s lips on his. Ashton feels like the sun on Michael’s face, and Michael feels at ease.

20 notes · View notes

13lov · 5 years

Text

lucy (m)

pairing: pornstar!taehyung, tattooed!taehyung x pornstar!reader

genre: pornstar au, humor, smut, light f2l, angst if you squint.

word count: 8,305

summary: after reading a few more titles of the videos you’ve uploaded, taehyung has come to the conclusion that you’re the hottest fucking dumbass he’s ever seen and so desperately wants to fuck.

warning(s): smut (masturbation, sex toys, unprotected sex, fingering, creampies ; mention of: face fucking, squirting, gxg), !ENDGAME SPOILERS!.

a/n: inspired by that video of taehyung with the fake tattoos…good lord… sorry i posted this later than i said i would, some stuff came up :( not proofread so i apologize for mistakes.

With one final thrust into the petite girl beneath him, Taehyung was fast to pull his dick completely out of her with the sigh of relief. Sure, he sighed because it was in the script, but he would’ve done it even if it weren’t apart of the porno.

He flopped on the bed, right next to the girl who was playing the role of his horny step-sister. He visualized the script in his head, and waited a few seconds before turning to his co-star and saying, “I gave you what you wanted, now, can I have my skateboard back?”

“AND CUT!” the director yells, standing up from his chair across the room. Taehyung’s manager, Seokjin, enters the set with a bathrobe in one hand and water bottle in the other and hands Tae both. “Everyone did a great job today! Remember to report back here tomorrow at two for the promo shoot, got it?!” the director asks, and everyone confirms they’ll be there.

Taehyung stands up from the messy bed to put on his bathrobe while his former co-star, Rosie, covers herself in the sheets. ‘If you’re so fucking shy, why are you doing porn?’Taehyung thinks to himself, annoyed.

“You did really good, I enjoyed it. And, you’re an amazing actor. Not many stars are good at acting, but you are.” Rosie compliments sweetly and Taehyung feels bad for what he originally thought of her.

“Thanks,” is all he can say to her because (1) he can’t compliment her back because it would be a lie and there’s no need for that, (2) he’s not interested in talking to her, and (3) he’s ready to head back to his trailer and take a shower. “See you tomorrow,” he adds, because he doesn’t want to seem like one of those stuck-up pornstars he hates so badly.

He then leaves the rented airbnb home and takes the quick walk to his trailer with Jin right by his side. “What’d you think?” Taehyung asks.

Seokjin makes a face as he thinks of an answer. “It was…decent. Not your best.”

Tae scoffed, offended, “It wasn’t my porn, I’m only here to get her some clout. You think I enjoy wasting my time with newbies when I could be with a professional? Hell no!” his rant goes on as he approaches his white trailer, opening the door and holding it so Jin can walk in first (because he’s polite like that).

“Then why film with newbies when you hate it so much? Oh wait, because their team is willing to pay big money for the number one pornstar on ‘nexxxtdoor.com’. That’s why.” Seokjin stated once he entered the trailer and sat on the white couch, Taehyung following shortly behind.

Jin was right, Tae was the number one star on the number one porn site in the country. Maybe people were drawn to his blonde mullet that was usually accompanied by one of his many headbands, or maybe it was the floral tattoos decorated nicely across his neck that drove people crazy. But it was probably just the plain old fact that Taehyung was hot, had a pretty dick, and knew how to use it.

“You’re damn right about that,” Tae says, stripping himself of his bathrobe and little clothing. He doesn’t bother to lock to door of the trailer or even cover himself up in front of Seokjin; everyone had already seen him naked, all boundaries have burned down.

“God, I’m so hot,” Jin says suddenly, and Taehyung looks over to see his manager has moved to stand directly in front of the mirror above the couch, looking directly at his reflection. “Maybe I should start doing porn just to give you a run for your money.”

“Ha!” Taehyung laughs, walking to the standing shower and turning on the hot water. “As gorgeous as you are, I’m a pretty tough guy to beat. Aren’t those two guys still fighting for second place? What are their names?” Taehyung snaps his fingers as tried to remember the names of the two porn stars fighting for second place like a bunch of losers.

“Suga, and uh, that Jimin guy. But they actually dropped a few places…” Seokjin’s tone changed, he seemed nervous.

“Oh, yeah?” Tae asked, stepping into the hot shower, “Have people finally gotten bored of them?” He grabs the white bar of soap from its appropriate holder and begins to cleanse himself, starting off with his neck and shoulders.

“Not exactly, people still like them, there’s just this…uh…”

“Spit it out, Jin.” Taehyung demands, moving the bar of soap down to his chest and belly. Small, white bubbles form at the surface but are quickly washed away with the water pouring down from the shower head.

“There’s this new girl who’s going viral really quick; she’s number two.” Jin admits with a nervous cough.

“A girl,” Taehyung repeats, “I like girls. She must be pretty good if she’s growing so quickly.” It’s true; (Taehyung does indeed like girls) it took Tae two years to become number one on nexxxtdoor, so whoever was able to pass stars as good as Jimin and Suga in such a short amount of time had to be fucking amazing.

“She sure is…something. Her name is ‘Lucy Fer’; look her up when you get home. But, yeah, I’m off to go pick up your next script; see you later.” Jin leaved without another word, and Taehyung is still in the shower.

“Lucy Fer…” he repeats in a whisper, “Lucy Fer…”

Taehyung does as he’s told later that night and types in the name of his possible nemesis on nexxtdoor.com. He clicks the little arrow and the search results pop up in a matter of seconds; your channel popping up in full display.

LUCY FER ✓ @lucy_fer im basically a youtuber that taker her clothes off hehe </3 4.7M Subscribers | 192 Videos | Joined 1 Year Ago

Taehyung is confused by your biography, but decides he’ll find out what you mean after looking at some of your videos. And, just by the titles alone, he can see why so many people enjoy watching you:

FUCKING MYSELF WITH A DILDO WHILE I THINK ABOUT MY FUCKBOY EX :( 1,343,400 views

FAILED MATH CLASS BUT I STILL KNOW HOW TO SQRT **NOT CLICKBAIT** 3,473,621 views

ex bf fucks my face while frank ocean plays in my airpod$!!# (ft. namjoooooon) 2,372,084 views

After reading a few more titles of the videos you’ve uploaded, Taehyung has come to the conclusion that you’re the hottest fucking dumbass he’s ever seen and so desperately wants to fuck.

It’s weird for him to feel desperate for the girl literally coming for his career, especially when he hadn’t even seen you in action yet. And for that reason, he doesn’t like you. Does he think you’re hot? Yes. Does he want to fuck you? Of course. Does he dislike you? Actually, yes, but only becaus you’re

He sighed, straightening up in his desk chair as he kept his eyes on the illuminated screen in front of him. Curiosity got the best of him and soon enough, he was scrolling past all of your videos until he gets to your very first one:

GIRL GETS SUPER WET AFTER FEELING APPRECIATED 15,192,604 views

He notices that in every thumbnail, you’re wearing a pair of red devil horns and when you’re very rarely accompanied by someone else, they’re also wearing their own set of horns, identical to yours. Even in your display picture, it’s an up-close photo of you, your hair is down and it’s dripping wet, the devil horns are on full display, and your tongue is stuck out with a lit lighter dangerously close to it.

You’re the devil. Satan. Lucifer. Lucy Fer and oh, he finally understands your stage name.

He smiles lightly and shakes his head in realization. Taehyung’s about to close the laptop and call it a night - he has a long day tomorrow - but, he decides just watching oneof videos wouldn’t hurt. I mean, you are his competition, right? He has to see why you’re so popular.

Taehyung scrolls for a few seconds before clicking on a video titled “masturbating and crying about how broke i am (ft. namjoon aka my ex bf lol)“.

The video buffers quickly, taking Taehyung by surprise. For some reason he pauses it, grabs his laptop whole, and makes his way over to his king-sized bed. He tells himself it’s because he’s going to fall asleep afterwards, but he knows that he’s retreated to the bed for other reasons.

Once he’s in a comfortable position with the Macbook in front of him, Tae finally hits the triangle-shaped button and the video plays.

Your bed and pillows are the only thing in the frame at first, then you step in and sit on the edge of the bed. You’re wearing a red skater skirt that’s a tad bit short, a lacy, black bralette, and your signature devil horns.

You stare at the camera in silence for awhile and Taehyung wonders when you’re finally gonna get down to business. That’s when the camera suddenly zooms in on your face, on the single tear that comes from your left eye and makes its way down your cheek.

"Oh,” Tae says, shocked. He wasn’t actually expecting you to cry, though the title said you would.

The camera zooms from out of your face and goes back to the full body shot of you on the bed. “Why the fuck am I so broke?” you ask, there’s a smile on your face, but another tear slips from your eyes. Taehyung then decides for himself that you are a fucking maniac.

With the way the video is edited, Tae feels like he’s watching one of those popular YouTubers; like Emma Chamberlin or Antonia Garza. Your bio had described you perfectly: you truly were just a YouTuber who took her clothes off, and everyone (including Taehyung) loved it. It was a great idea on your part, since literally no one else made homemade porn the way you did.

With you, it felt so natural and relatable and not at all like the washed-up pornstars that came before you. Your viewers loved you, and they were so attached to you. Though you considered yourself to be just another lost, twenty-three year old, your viewers thought you were perfect because of how honest you are. Being so close to them, you didn’t even mind when they called you Y/N, your real name.

Even at times when you weren’t uploading videos or going live on nexxxtdoor, you held a PG-13 rated Instagram live that allowed you to speak to your supporters on a less intense platform.

You were thankful for them, and they were thankful for you.

In the screen in front of him, Taehyung watches and listens as you talk about your card getting declined at Starbucks as you unclasp your bra. You pull the black straps down slowly until they completely fall off your arms, your boobs spilling out nicely. Your nipples are hard because of how cold it is in your apartment, but you let the people watching think it’s because you’re horny.

Though only the top half of your body is bare, Taehyung still admires you. Many of the girls had had worked with had fake boobs or a fake ass for the most part, not that it was a bad thing, it was just nice to see something he wasn’t used to.

You’re complaining again, this time about how you received a parking ticket that morning and you have no clue how you’re gonna pay for it with the amount of student debt you’re in. With a sigh, you wipe away another pathetic tear before turning on all fours with your ass in view of the camera; the black thong underneath your skirt hardly hiding anything.

Your hand reaches under your pillow and pulls out a white vibrator. It looks dull and worn out, but no one really expecting you to have a top of the line one that costs $100.

“The police officer that gave me the ticket was pretty hot, though,” you say whilst getting into your original position on the bed. Taehyung then pauses the video, not because you’ve done anything wrong, but because he’s now realizing his hand had slipped past his pajama pants and he had began to palm himself through his boxers.

He can’t jerk off to the enemy, it’d only give you more power. But, he can follow the enemy on Instagram.

So he does exactly that.

lucy_fer is live…come watch!

The little banner pops up on Taehyung’s screen, staying for a few seconds before disappearing in his notifications tab. He considers the tempting invitation as he stares at the YouTube video that had been playing before being interrupted.

Sure, it was just an Instagram live and it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he watched. But, what if you thought otherwise? What if you thought he was only watching just so he could scope out his competition?

“Screw it,” Tae mumbled before pulling down his notifications bar and clicking on the Instagram banner. It loaded within a few seconds and soon enough, Taehyung’s presence had been announced in the stream.

k.taehyung has joined.

But your face was turned elsewhere, talking to someone who was out of view of the camera. Secretly, Tae was hoping you’d turn back in time to acknowledge that fact that he was watching. And, much to his luck, you turned back towards the camera just as his was going away.

“Three hundred already?” you asked, watching the view count go up. “You guys must be bored.”

nam_joonie yep. why dont u take that shirt off and put on a show.

You read your ex-boyfriend’s comment with a sigh, leaning back on your couch as more comments from new viewers filled the screen. “You all know Namjoon,” you said to the viewers, grabbing the cup filled with water that stood on the coffee table next to your propped up phone. “I apologize that my ex is such a perv.” You took a sip of your drink as you roommate, Jennie, leaned into the frame to read a comment that caught her interest.

pinkszn.lisa girl fuck your ex, kim taehyung is here

Once Jennie read the comment out loud the water in your mouth was done for with the way you had begun to cough it up in shock.

You had heard of Taehyung, of course, and it was a surprise enough when he followed you on Instagram a few hours ago. He was intimating, to say the least, with his tattoos and blonde mullet and headbands and…wow. In fact, he was so intimidating, you hadn’t even watched any of his pornos. You knew he was good at his craft and didn’t need to watch any of his stuff to prove it.

When you were able to finally catch your breath, you turned to Jennie, shaking your head in shock. “Stop lying,” you choked out.

Seeing this as a second opportunity from hod himself to make his presence known, Taehyung typed out a comment.

k.taehyung hi hahaha

Rainbow hearts continued to fill up the screen as you read Tae’s comment whith wide eyes. He was actually here, watching you awkwardly get choked up over him.

“Taehyung!” you said suddenly, probably a little too excited. You cleared your throat as a way to calm down, “I…we…” nervously, you looked towards Jennie with a desperate facial expression that yelled ‘help me’.

“Why don’t you…guest him?” Jennie suggested.

“Oh, yes! Can I guest you, Taehyung?” You asked hopefully, though you already had requested for him to join before he could process what was going on. Sitting up on his couch, he looked down at the floor where his housemates Jungkook and Hoseok were sat in front of the television watching whatever sports game was on.

Of course Taehyung could afford to live alone, but these truly were his best friends.

“I’m about to go live. Try not to talk too much.” he said.

“That was a terrible pass,” Jeongguk said to Hoseok, clearly ignoring Taehyung’s request as he kept his eye on the basketball game. “I could pass better than that.”

Hoseok shakes his head, grabbing a few pieces of buttery popcorn that sat in the bowl on his lap. “You can’t even play basketball that good.”

“My point exactly! I could pass better than Williamson and I’m not even good at basketball; that’s tragic.”

With an eyeroll, Taehyung accepts the request to appear in your stream and gets himself in position with his phone camera, taking off his thick, clear glasses only momentarily to properly capture his face in the frame. Seconds later, the stream connect and he appears on the bottom half of the screen with you on top.

You open your mouth in shock once Taehyung is on screen then bring an arm to cover your eyes. “Woah, Taehyung! No shirt?!”

“Woah, Y/N, no bra?” he fired back, pointing out the obvious fact that your nipples were clearly hard under the thin, white shirt you wore. To anyone watching, they could easily mistake the two of you for lifelong friends with the way you were comfortable enough to joke around like this.

Or maybe it was just cheesy pornstar humor.

Slowly, you brought your forearm down from your eyes and got a good luck at Taehyung. He was indeed topless, flower tattoos on full display along with the gold chain that hung loosely around neck. He was a gorgeous sight, to say the least, and it’s no wonder why so many people enjoyed seeing him preform such filthy acts on his partners; never the same person twice, but always getting them to cum more than once.

You then realize this is your first time getting at good look at Tae’s face, other than the few Instagram photos you skimmed through when he followed you the day before. You also then realize you’d been staring at him in awkward silence since you brought your arm away.

You clear your throat, “touché. It’s nice to, like, see you for the first time.”

Taehyung raises a brow, had you never watched any of his stuff? He wants to ask, but also doesn’t want to seem cocky; it’s not like you were obligated to watch his pornos.

He decides to ask, the curiosity is killing him.

“I’m guessing that means you haven’t seen my stuff…” he says.

Now you’re embarrassed and wish you could go back in time and never make that comment about seeing him for thee first time. But you can’t, all you can do is shake your head and say, “I’m sorry, I don’t watch porn.”

“You’re the second most watched pornstar in the country and you don’t even watch porn?” he asks, confused.

You realize how stupid you sound and become embarrassed again. “Wait, no! Not like that, I mean. I watch my own stuff and I have some friends who do porn and I watch them…but that’s for support. I don’t get off to them or anything. Not because I can’t! I just…don’t want to…masturbate to my friends.”

It’s silent as Taehyung tries to take in what you said.

nam_joonie suddenly im not bored anymore

Although you and Namjoon have been broken up for quite some time now, he still knew when you were nervous about something, and that’s exactly what you were now.

You pretend you hadn’t seen Namjoon’s comment the same way to choose to ignore Jennie’s silent laughter fit. “I know who you are, though, Kim Taehyung,“ you nod as if you’re trying to reassure him while Jennie tries her best not to pass out from second-hand embarrassment.

Tae tilts his head up when he chuckles and you’re given an even better view of his neck and the tattoos that accompany it. If given the opportunity, any person would love to leave little purple bruises up and down his throat. But not you (you weren’t like other girls (and boys for that matter)), too afraid to mess with the beautiful artwork that Taehyung truly was.

And on top of that, everything about him was cute and sexy at the same and it nearly made your head explode. For example: the fact that he had neck tattoos was sexy, and the fact that they were flowers and butterflies made it cute. His blonde mullet was sexy, and the baby pink headband he usually wore underneath it was cute.

Then there was his smile. The smirk was sexy, but his boxy smile is what made your heart flutter. You were beyond nervous.

“I love your tattoos,” you compliment, “do you have anymore?”

“Mmhm!” he hums excitedly and it seems like the butterflies on his neck have made their way down to your belly. He holds his left hand up, showing off yet another butterfly tattoo – a blue one. “And I have one one each thigh of a bird.”

nam_joonie omg taehyung ur tattoos are so hot ugh the sexual tension between u two is killing me just fuck one of her holes already!!!

Namjoon isn’t the only one commenting, but it’s the only comment your eyes let you see. Taehyung sees it to and wonders if your ex boyfriend’s bitter jealousy would be a problem in whatever relationship he’s trying to form with you.

“Maybe I will,” Taehyung says with a smirk and no context at all, but everyone had seen Namjoon’s comment – made it hard to miss with it being so long. If you had water in your mouth, you’d be choking on it. And Jennie, who was off to your side, had her jaw slacked open at Tae’s straightforward and risky reply.

user1 we-

user2 TEA !

user3 and i oop-

…And more twitter slang flood the chat. You and Taehyung stay on live for another half hour, Namjoon doesn’t comment again so you assume he left after what Taehyung said. The rest of the broadcast goes well, consisting of you and Tae joking and talking and flirting with Jennie occasionally making fun of you or one of his roommates yelling about the basketball game.

It’s nice talking to Taehyung, it’s like he’s managed to become your friend in the short amount of time you’ve talked to him. When he listens to you speak, he pays attention and doesn’t interrupt you. And when you interrupt him when he’s speaking, he doesn’t mind because he likes seeing you get so excited. He’s literally the perfect boy.

So perfect that you want to keep talking to him forever, even when your eyelids get heavy and demand sleep. Jennie has already taken a shower and would be heading to bed soon, and any other day you’d be following her footsteps by getting ready to sleep.

“You’re tired,” Taehyung says when you yawn for the third time in a row.

You bring you index finger and thumb together, creating little space between them. “Just a tad bit.”

“Then sleep, don’t you have class in the morning?”

You nod, “I’m probably gonna drop out anyway, but yeah I do.”

"Then sleep,” he repeats so kindly it makes you want to close your eyes right there just to please him. He’s taken his glasses off now (making a show of it when he did so) and you’re able to look into his eyes better.

“I’ll go to bed if you do,” you challenge.

Taehyung isn’t sleepy, but he should be going to bed anyway so he’s not tired for tomorrow’s early shooting. “Yeah, I’m filming tomorrow, I need to go to bed.”

There’s something about Tae saying he has to film tomorrow that makes your heart drop. It’s like, in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you forgot he was the most watched pornstar and mistook him for an everyday boy who had a normal job and a normal life that could sustain a normal relationship. But you should know by now, nothing in your life is normal, and you and Taehyung had the same career in completely different aspects.

“Okay,” you sigh, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he says before leaving the broadcast. He would’ve stayed on longer if his job wasn’t so demanding.

He waits a minute, and you’re finally done with your livestream. Then he waits, and waits, and waits until…

lucy_fer sent you a direct message.

It’s your phone number, along with a message.

lucy_fer / 1 min ago send nudes pls

Taehyung knows you’re joking, but considers sending a dick pic just to make you squirm. But he doesn’t, instead, he saves your number and sends a text of his own.

imessage today at 11:37 pm

no u

Withing the next few weeks, a friendship blossoms between you and Taehyung. You text everday now, and neither of you could be

You’ve uploaded more videos (to which Tae has jerked himself off to), and Taehyung has kept his title as number one and has starred in more films of his own (in which you was only to support because, again, you don’t watch porn).

It’s when he’s in his trailer with Seokjin getting ready to film another boring horny stepbrother when he get’s a text from you.

imessage today at 12:22 pm

i want to see u

in real life tho

like…i wanna meet u in real life

The last thing he texted you was a Jeongguk being stupid a few hours ago, so your lack of being able to respond quickly in this situation gave away the fact that this was something you had been thinking about a lot. He’s not too sure what to say in this sense. Yes, he’s your friend and wants to meet up with you, but what if something happens and changing the dynamic of your friendship? He cares for you the way a friend should (and probably a little more), and feels like you’re one of the few people who actually understand him. He definitely doesn’t want to lose you like Namjoon has.

He responds:

hmm, what prompted ur sudden interest in wanting to see me?

You’re quick to reply:

rmr a little while ago we talked about filming something together? u can come up here for a weekend, we could hang out and film something

taehyung:

so u only want me for my body?? i see how it is…

you:

oh quit it

so, what do u say? u can stay at my place

He tells you he’s going to think about it, but already knows he’s going to say yes. It’s all he can think about twenty minutes later when he’s fucking some redhead deep into the mattress. The sound of your girlish moans and gasps play so vividly in his mind, if he tries hard enough, he can pretend your sounds are coming from the girl’s mouth and you’rethe one he’s balls deep in.

And if he tries hard enough, he can pretend the little tuffs of the girl’s red hair that form against the pillow are your red devil horns.

And when he does try hard enough, he has to stop himself from cumming right then and there by distracting himself with other thoughts. He can’t think of you, of course – you’re the one who got him into this predicament in the first place.

Taehyung opens his eyes, trying his best to momentarily erase you from his mind. He looks down at the girl beneath him and is met with closed eyes and parted lips; her tongue was only slightly visible and was bit down on to stifle load moans.

The expression on her face is awkward, amateur almost, and Taehyung can’t stand it. He thrusts deeper, earning a high pitched moan from the girl and follows suit with a low groan.

He’s bored. Extremely bored. Then his mind drifts back to you, and he smiles because he’ll be seeing you in a few days. And for once, in a very long time, he’s excited for something. So excited that his boxy smile pays a visit and he has to bury his face in his co-star’s shoulder to cover it up.

Friday comes around rather quickly, and Taehyung finds himself halfway out of the front door with a duffel bag in his hand, saying goodbye to his roommates.

“No people, no parties, no dancing, no loud music, and Yeontan is the only animal allowed in this house. If I get a complaint from the neighbors, I swear–” Taehyung’s infamous exit speech is cut off by Jeongguk clasping a hand on his shoulder.

“Relax, hyung,” he says a little too calmly for Taehyung’s comfort, “nothing bad is gonna happen, don’t worry.”

The sound of tiny nails scraping against the wooden floor has made Tae forget what he was saying, only being able to focus on the beautiful dog running up to him.

He drops the bag, bending down to pet the fur and say goodbye to his faithful companion. “Please remember to take care of Yeontan; he’s very needy.”

“We will, I promise.” Hoseok says and Taehyung stands upright once again.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he adjusts the bag on his shoulder, “Gguk is the one that concerns me.”

Jeongguk scoffs, fake offended, “Me?! Why me?!”

“That time you went two days without food and didn’t even realize it.”

“That–I–it was for a gaming tournament! Plus, I drank Red Bull and that gave me all the energy i needed.” he tries to redeem himself, but it doesn’t work.

“Please just take care of my fucking dog,” is the last thing Taehyung says along with ‘goodbye’ before leaving his house.

The drive to your apartment is nearly two hours away, and Taehyung can hardly believe he’s going out of his way to hang out with a friend then have sex with her. It’s ridiculous yet so exciting. So…new.

You’re outside your apartment building when Taehyung arrives, heart beating out of both of your chest. He doesn’t leave the car, since the two of you agreed you’d go out in the city before coming back to your place, but you can already see he’s a lot taller in person. And a lot hotter, if that was possible.

You jog up to his Range Rover, the best looking car in the parking lot, and slide into his passenger seat. Before Taehyung is able to get a word in, you’ve already engulfed him into a tight hug. He’s thrown off his game by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it phase him. Instead, his arms find comfort around your waist, embarrassing you so tight and completely as if you’d melt away if he let go.

Then, you’re pushing him off of you, as if nothing happened.

“I can’t believe I’m here, with you, in your car. I bet so many of your fans would die to be in this position,” you run your fingers through your hair as a method to calm your nerves.

“And many other positions…” he jokes with a small smirk, handing you his phone so you can put in the address to the place you’re having lunch at.

“Touché,” you reply, and minutes later you’re on your way to a whole-in-the-wall cute, little restaurant. It’s mostly empty, so neither of you are recognized.

Taehyung picks a little table in the far corner by the window; just enough room for the both of you. He pulls out your chair, because he’s polite like that, before setting down your tray of food on the table and sitting down on his own seat.

“It’s raining,” you whisper, chin in the palm of your hand as you stare out the window.

Taehyung had started to place your food in front of you, but stops when he hears you speak. He looks up at you, and the only word he can use to describe you in this exact moment is ‘pretty’. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

He gulps, glancing out the window to see it had indeed began to rain. “Yeah,” is all he can say, because there’s not much you can say when you’re being taunted.

The sky is teasing him, as though it was saying, “ha ha, I can cry and you can’t”, because Tae is so at peace being here with you, he could actually cry. He’s happy for once, and wishes he didn’t have to hide it.

“It’ll be dark by the time the movie’s over,” Taehyung says while handing you your sandwich, “are we going straight to your place afterwards?”

“We can, I mean, it’s Friday and you don’t leave until Monday morning; we have the whole weekend to explore.”

Tae nods out of excitement but doesn’t show it. He’s been looking forward to filming with you and is happy you’re ready to do so as soon as possible. Now, he’ll just have to find a way to stop thinking or talking about it.

“So about the video we’re making today,” he takes a sip out of his lemonade.

“Oh yeah, I was gonna have my manager email yours to sort out some details, then I remembered I don’t have a manager–”

“Wait,” Tae raises a hand to silence you, “you don’t have a manager? Why not?”

Embarrassed, you slump back in your seat and shrug. “I dunno, I felt like I didn’t need one until now, honestly. All of my videos are filmed and edited by me and on the rare occasion I have someone to film with, they’re people I know personally; not big time…pornstars.” you whisper the last part because although the restaurant is mostly empty, you’re still in public.

“I’m literally just a YouTuber that takes her clothes off,” you continue.

“Even YouTuber’s have managers, don’t they?” he points out.

Before you can respond, your phone starts to vibrate on the table. “It’s Jennie,” you say, “do you mind if I…?” you hold your phone up with pleading eyes, claiming the call could be important. Taehyung says it’s fine and takes a bite out of his own sandwich while you accept the call.

“Yeah?…Oh, okay!…Can you tidy up before you go?…I know, but still…Great, have fun…Oh, shut up…Thank you, I love you…Alright bye,” Is all Taehyung hears from your forty-second conversation before setting your phone back down.

“That was my roommate, she just left for the weekend, so me and you have the apartment to ourselves.”

“You have a roommate?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, Jennie.”

“Does she know you do porn?”

“Mmhm, she was in my video before. I think I titled it: Pussy Is God.”

“Knowing you, you probably replaced the S’s with dollar signs.”

You smile, “You know me pretty well, don’t you?”

And he does know you pretty well. Just like he knows when the two of you are exiting the restaurant, you make sweater paws with your hands because you’re cold. So he holds your hand and let’s your fingers intertwine the entire walk to his car and tells himself it’s just platonic hand holding.

And when you’re in the theater watching Endgame, he feels your body tremble as you watch Iron Man take his final breath. You don’t cry, but Taehyung let’s the tear he was holding in fall from his eye. He doesn’t think you saw it, but you do, and later on he let’s you assume it’s the movie that made him cry. But really, it was you.

You had brought Kim Taehyung to tears.

Because when he’s with you, he isn’t thinking about his job or stress, or anything. Your presence had captured him and tricked him into thinking he, being the person he is, could handle being in a relationship; a serious one at that.

And that’s exactly what he was afraid of.

“Just admit it, you big baby. We basically went on a date.” You say hours later as you lead Taehyung into your apartment.

“Oh, you think so?” Taehyung asks as you flick on the light switch.

“Well, we had lunch, held hands, saw a movie, and we’re about to have sex so…yeah, I think it’s safe to say we went on a date.”

Upon entering your apartment, Taehyung notes it’s as small as you said it would be, but didn’t expect for there to be so many new, expensive appliances. Seriously, your fridge, flat screen television, and microwave all look so out of place in your crappy apartment. He assumes your porn money as started rolling in, but doesn’t ask.

“You wanna film now?” Taehyung asks, slipping off his shoes when you notices you doing the same.

“Why wait?” You ask with a devilish smirk, “I’m gonna change, but please, make yourself at home.”

You’re in your room getting dressed in your usual skirt, bra, and devil horns (and even a little bit of makeup because…fuck it) while Taehyung takes time to prepare himself with a mini prep talk while he waits.

“I’m ready if you are,” you call from your doorframe. Taehyung’s dick already feels like it’s stirring in his pants, so he tries his best not to look at you when he enters your room and sits on the edge of your bed, directly in front of your only camera.

“Are you ready?” you ask, a finger on the ‘record’ button.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replies.

You press record and sit down next to him.

“It’d be so funny if I just put in, like, clips of our first livestream together when you said you would fuck one of my holes,” you laugh, and Taehyung is amazed at how comfortable you became in a matter of seconds. You truly were a natural at this, and it put him at ease.

“Please don’t do that,” he replies, shaking his head.

“Im gonna do it, but, anyway…! I’m here with Kim Taehyung! And I have a gift for him!” You lean over to your bedside drawer to retrieve your gift for him, Tae lets out a desperate sigh when he gets a clear view of your ass.

“Usually, I have my co-star for the evening wear complimentary devil horns, right? But, for you, I went out and got you your own pair. They don’t look much different than mine or any other pair, but these are special…because they’re yours.” you pull the headband from behind your back and gently place it in his hands and watch as he stares at them for a moment.

Although they’re the same style of the ones of the ones usually featured in your videos, they’re different in some way. Newer. Cleaner. His to keep.

He stares at them in silence, making you nervous by the second, and you make a mental note to edit awkward Wii music in at this part. “..so do you like it, or…?”

Instead of responding, he moves his tattooed-hand up to his hair and removes his baby blue headband in a swift motion; replacing it with his new gifts. Out of his duffel bag, he pulls out a light pink supreme headband (similar to his infamous one) and gives it to you, claiming he also brought you a gift.

And for the sake of the porno (and because you like him so much without realization), you take off your devil horns and replace them with the headband he’s given you.

When Taehyung stares at you, he feels like his looking at his heart in human form. He can’t look away and sure as hell doesn’t want to. But, he’s not in love. He’s in lust and in like and all the things that come with having a crush because Jesus Christ he has the biggest, fattest crush on you, Y/N.

“Do I look like you?” you ask.

“Nope, you look way better,” he compliments.

You wave your hand in a motion that says, ‘as if’. He isn’t used to working without a script, but is too shy to ask how you plan on getting things started. And, like you read his mind, you instruct him to lay back on the bed, and he does so.

"What, are you gonna top me?” Taehyung asks with a cocky smile and a raised brow, elbows holding himself up as he watches you crawl over him until your faces are centimeters apart.

“You’d make such a cute, little bottom,” your lips brush against his with every word you speak, and yet, you’re still not kissing. “But no, just relax.” You might as well had been speaking a foreign language Taehyung had no knowledge of because he had no clue what you were saying; too distract by the fact that your lips were literally on his and you weren’t even kissing, though you both so badly want to.

“Kiss me, pussy,” is what you want to say to him, but you don’t. Your lips place delicate kisses down his neck, so soft and subtly and almost nonexistent, not wanting to cover up his tattoos with hickeys.

Your hands make their way down to his jeans until you’re undoing his belt and sliding it off with ease. With his elbows hosting himself up again, Taehyung watches you pull his jeans down all the way to his ankles until they’ve met the same fate as his Gucci belt. When you hook a finger on the waistband of his boxers, he stops you with a question.

“What’re you doing?” he slurs, and regrets asking such a dumb question because he already knows damn well what you’re gonna do.

“Gonna suck you off; is that okay?”

It’s more than okay, honestly. It’s just, Taehyung is a giver. His fans pay to watch him give and give and give until they’re watching his cum drip out of someone’s swollen cunt; he definitely wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of sex and couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten a proper blowjob.

He doesn’t respond verbally, only giving a light nod and running his tongue across his top lip.

Getting the answer you were hoping for, you tug off Taehyung’s boxers with a single finger, his cock springing free and laying flat against his abdomen. Precum leaks from his reddening tip and you can’t help but gasp at the euphoric sight. Taehyung smiles in delight when the soft noise leaves your mouth, and suddenly, he’d confident again.

Your hand makes it’s way to grab a hold of Tae’s cock, using the pad of your thumb to smear the seeping precum along his tip. He let’s out a moan of pleasure, already obsessed with the feeling of your small hand wrapped around his ever-hardening member.

Starting off with slow strokes, you lower your head until you’re inches away from his dick. You’re not even doing much, yet Taehyung feels like he could cum right now just by the way you’re looking at him; so dark and lustful and sinful, like the she-devil you truly were.

Without warning, your tongue presses itself alongside Tae’s tip, peppering the sides with small kitten licks. “Shit,” he mutters, eyes tightly shut. If he thought your hands were good, your tongue nearly sent him into overdrive.

The little kitten lick only last for a few seconds longer, and then your mouth is completely around him. He’s big around you, and it’ll take a bit of work if you plan on getting him to the back of your throat.

You pull your mouth away from with a pop, your free hand stroking off parts of him your mouth couldn’t reach quite yet. He’s still propped up on his elbows, watching as you get him off.

Your mouth is wrapped around him once again, and soon enough, his eyes are back to being shut as he takes in the warm feeling of your mouth. Taehyung fights the urge to buck his hips once you’re finally able to allow him deeper in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you fight off your gag reflex.

He even fights thee urge once you’ve gotten used to the feeling and began to slowly bob your head. He grabs a fistful of your hair tightly, earning a pleasing groan from you that vibrates around his dick. Pulling only a slight bit harder on your hair gets another reaction out of you, this time causing your left hand to work your way down into your panties.

The sight alone makes Taehyung want to replace your fingers with his own; watching his tattooed-hand disappearing into your underwear until his fingers are circling around your clit, slipping his fingers between your slick folds until they’re completely covered. He’d bring his fingers up to your mouth and whisper “taste yourself, baby, taste how wet you are for me,” then his fingers would be in your mouth, licking your juices clean. And he’d bring his hand back down to your cunt, calling you his good girl while we thrusts his fingers in and out of you.

But that can’t happen, at least not tonight while you were recording and, oh fuck…he was so caught up, Taehyung forgot this whole thing was being filmed.

“Shit, fuck, stop it,” he instructs, knowing he’d release right then and there if you kept this up.

“Something wrong?” you ask, your big doe eyes peering up at him with your mouth glistening with his precum. You looked so innocent yet so sinful and it drove Taehyung so crazy.

He’s taking his shit off, leaving him completely naked and you follow suit. “I shouldn’t be selfish,” he says when you’re leaning over him, hardening nipples brushing against his own chest. “You need to get off too, right?”

You grin with a nod before finally kissing him. It’s not a cute, first kiss you’d imagined it being, but it was something. Sloppy, messy, and horny.

When he tries to lift you up to lay you on your back, you stop him by pulling away from his lips and harshly grabbing his shoulder blade. “I’m going to top.”

Taehyung chuckles because he thinks your joking, and when he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” his dominant side had slowly began to show.

“That’s what you think,” you say, and reach down to grab his cock. He decides there’s no point in fighting you on this since your mind is made up and admits defeat by replacing your hand with his and rubbing his tip against your folds.

Your grip onto his shoulders to steady yourself, eyes closed while you let him tease your entrance. His tip lazily brushes circles on your cunt, and you can’t help but a let out a high-pitched whine when he’s finally inside of you.

His thrusts are slow at first, giving you time to stretch out around him. “Okay,” you sigh, once you’re finally ready for harder, deeper thrusts.

“You wanted to top so badly,” he says, “you do all the work.”

You let out a laugh but deiced it’s fair, so you rock your hips against his, grabbing his thighs to hold onto in the process. You’ve just started, but the feeling of Taehyung finally inside of you after all these weeks already has the both of you moaning, thankful your roommate was out of town.

Your head is thrown back now as you keep the steady pace, hair sticking to the sweat on your back while Tae keeps a firm grip on your waist. His eyes are still closed in fear of releasing right then and there if he opened his eyes to see the sight of you on top of him.

“Taehyung…I–I–” you’re barely able to talk, so close to your climax you can hardly get a word out.

“You wanna come?” he asks, fingers moving down to massage your clit, adding all the more reason for you to orgasm.

“Please,” you whine, although it’s not like Taehyung has told you to ask for permission to come, this is just you in your natural state. And he loves it.

“Then come,” he says, and your orgasm rips through you, the type that has your eyes rolling back and body shaking. Tae can’t help but do the same moments later, the feeling of your cum dripping around him a little too much to handle. The inside of your walls are splattered white, but you don’t mind much; at least you’re on the pill.

The two of you pant as you come down from your highs, both exhausted at this point. And you, being yourself, reach down to give Taehyung a high-five, to which he accepts with a laugh.

“That was fun,” you say, just now rising off of him and trying your best not to groan at the feeling of emptiness.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “you’re good at your job.”

You accept and return the compliment before turning off the camera and excusing yourself in the bathroom.

Alone with his thoughts, Taehyung flops backwards on your bed and recall what has just happened. He’s scared, he feels like you’ve trapped him in your heart, like a caged animal. He knows he shouldn’t have feelings for him, but he can’t help himself; you were absolutely perfect in his eyes.

When you enter the room again and lay down next to him, he thinks about how little he cares about anything other than you. He doesn’t care if his career doesn’t allow it, what his friends will say, or what his fans will say. He only wants you.

“Y/N?” he calls softly, turning his head to look at you.

“Yes?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

#bts #bts smut #taehyung #taehyung smut #bts imagine #bts scenario #kpop imagines #kpop scenario #kpop smut #jeongguk #jungkook #jimin #hoseok #namjoon #kim seokjin #yoongi

2K notes · View notes

iwritesickfic · 4 years

Note

1/2 Aaaaah I’ve fallen quickly in love with your writing, I love your style. A couple of prompts, since you asked for them: Peter thinks he’s recovering from a bad illness- genuinely so fed up of being ill that at this point he’s willing to pretend to himself and everyone else he’s feeling better. Meanwhile he’s still staying up late working, and one day he gets stuck in the rain on the way from class and needs some help... and Ashlyn is closest...

First, thank you!!!!!! Second, this is long as hell and I also got sucked into the DRAMA of it all so I hope you still enjoy it :) might write a second part if we’re feeling it? anyway, enjoy and thanks for the kind words and prompts :)

It seems like it’s been forever since Peter hasn’t felt like shit. It’s like his body is trying to make up for all the years he spent avoiding every cold and flu that went around. He has to admit though, the main reason he’s still ill is because he won’t really give himself the time to fully recover. As soon as he’s feeling halfway decent, he dives back into life as normal - which for him, is 6 hours sleep and living on coffee - and within a week he’s back to being practically bedridden.

Leo is fed up with it. Big time. At least that’s what Peter’s gathered. Leo’s never said as much, but Peter figures he must be getting tired of it by now. So much that Peter’s stopped telling him how he’s feeling. At first it was just lying by omission. Now it’s lying-lying.

Today, everything’s concentrated in his head. His sinuses are throbbing, and his eyes hurt to move. He’s been swapping between chills and feeling too hot all day, and he’s pretty sure everyone in his lecture class hates his guts for his constant sniffling. He ran out of tissues about an hour into the six hour course, so he’s stuck wiping his nose with the crumpled leftovers and the few napkins he finds in a pocket of his bag.

By the time there’s only an hour left in class, he’s lost all ability to absorb anything the professor is saying. He’s shaking so badly he can’t take notes even if he wanted to. He’s considered leaving early, but to be honest, he’d rather put off his walk to the train as long as possible. He decides when he gets home, he’s chugging some nyquil, taking a cold shower, and going the fuck to sleep. He’s got a date with Leo tonight but he’ll need to make some excuse.

When the professor finally ends the class, he gets a rush of dopamine at the thought he’s only a 15 minute walk and a 30 minute train ride from some relief.

He stares at his phone, trying to think of something to tell Leo.

something came up, can i see you thursday?

Leo texts back almost immediately.

we already rescheduled twice are you sure you cant make it?

Peter bites his lip.

it’s a thesis thing. im sorry i promise thursday night.

He starts to pack his bag, and his phone buzzes.

ok, good luck love x

He pushes down the wave of guilt he feels and slings his bag over his shoulder. His heart drops into his stomach when he gets to the building’s lobby. It’s raining. Really raining, not just drizzling, but pouring. He swears, and sits down on one of the benches. He can wait.

Ten minutes later, the rain still hasn’t let up, and he knows if he doesn’t get up now he’s going to end up asleep on this bench whether he likes it or not. When he stands, the world starts to spin, and he has to bite back a whine at the way his headache worsens.

He pulls his hood on, even though it won’t make much of a difference, and takes a step outside. It’s not even five minutes before he’s soaked. At first, the rain almost felt nice on his fevered skin, but now he’s freezing. The cold’s worsened the way his nose is running, there’s mess all over his upper lip, and he can’t stop sneezing. His hair is stuck to his forehead, water gathered in his eyelashes. It’s another five minutes before he realizes he’s not getting to the train. His knees give out, and he has to catch himself against a bus shelter. He manages to make it to the bench inside, and sinks down, hyperventilating. He looks around aimlessly, hoping something will catch his eye and give him some semblance of a plan. And it does.

He’s on 110th and Amsterdam. That’s a block from Ashlynn’s apartment. Less than a block. He stands up, waiting for the world to stop spinning before making an attempt to walk. He tries not to think about the cold, or the way he can’t feel his toes, or the pounding in his head. Just focuses on one foot in front of the other.

He finds himself at her building. He presses her buzzer with shaking fingers, praying she’s home. He doesn’t have to wait even 30 seconds before the lobby door opens.

he steps inside, unable to hold back the heavy sigh of relief at the sudden warmth. He stands there for a moment, swaying slightly, before making his way to the elevator. Somehow, he finds himself at her door, and knocks. he hears her footsteps padding closer and closer before she’s standing right there, in front of him.

“Peter?” she looks puzzled until the world starts to tilt and he grips the doorframe to stay upright. “Whoa, hey, are you alright?” He opens his mouth to speak but three harsh sneezes come out instead, and he buries them into the wet sleeve of his hoodie. “Ok, c’mere.” She pulls him inside, and before he really knows what’s going on, he’s sitting at her kitchen table.

“S’raining,” he mumbles, and she hums in response.”M’cold.”

“I can tell. Here -” She starts to strip off his hoodie, which is totally soaked through. His shivering worsens, and she palms his forehead. “Shit, Peter.” She takes the hem of his t shirt and hesitates. “Can I...?” He nods, and she peels it off. She unties his sneakers and pulls off his socks, then bites her lip. “I can grab you a pair of my roommate’s sweatpants and you can change in the bathroom, yeah?” He shakes his head. There is no way he’s walking anywhere right now. She goes red. “You want me to...”

“M’gonna pass out if I try to stand up, Ash.”

Carefully, she unbuttons his jeans, tugging them off until he’s sitting in his underwear. She disappears for a moment before coming back with a towel, and wraps it around his shoulders. She places a box of tissues on his lap, and sits down in the chair across from him.

“What’s going on?”

“M’sick.” She laughs softly. Peter gingerly starts to wipe his nose, wincing at the raw, chapped soreness. He blows, and a spike of pain hits him between the eyes.

“Yeah, I can tell. Why were you -”

“Walking home from class,” he mumbles, and she nods. She stands up, and reappears with a thermometer. “Can we not?”

“If you wanna stay here then you’re gonna have to let me baby you,” she says, and if it didn’t hurt so bad he’d roll his eyes. He lets her stick the device under his tongue, and while she’s waiting for the reading she starts heating up water for tea. The thermometer beeps and she removes it gently. She frowns.

“What?” She takes a deep breath.

“It’s high, that’s all.” He raises his eyebrows at her. “102.2.”

“Not so bad,” he murmurs. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open. Sitting here in the warmth of the kitchen his body is finally deciding it’s had enough. The sudden warmth is also making his nose run. He sniffles.

“I’m not even gonna comment on that. C’mon, you can lay down on the couch. I’d offer you my bed but I don’t think you’ll make it that far to be honest.” He nods, and she pulls him upright. He manages to make it the few feet to the couch, and lands heavily. She swaps the towel for a blanket, and he’s never felt something better than the way it feels on his freezing, damp skin. Dry and warm and heavy. He curls up on his side, holding a tissue under his still-leaking nose, and he doesn’t last 30 seconds before falling asleep.

He’s awakened suddenly by the harsh ring of his cell phone. His headache is worse, despite the rest, and though his nose has stopped running it seems, his head is fully, hopelessly congested. He digs through his bag to find his phone, and frowns when he sees it’s Leo. He considers letting the call go to voicemail, but that’s before he sees the 5 previous missed calls.

“Hello?” He hates the way his voice sounds - sick and congested and torn up.

“Peter, what the fuck is going on?”

“I’m uh...I’m home working on thesis.” It takes him a moment to remember his lie from earlier.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why then do I see a photo of you, shirtless, on Ashlynn’s couch?” Peter knows immediately that he has fucked up, big time. “Do I really need to explain to you why that makes me upset?”

“Leo -”

“You better have a good fucking explanation for this.” Maybe it’s the fever, maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen Leo in weeks, or maybe it’s the build up of all the guilt he’s felt lying to him, but Peter feels tears start to fall. He breaks into sobs, and they make his headache exponentially worse.

“Leo, p-please, I -” He can barely speak around his tears. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad at you for what?” His voice is cold. “Tell me. I want to hear you tell me.”

“It’s...it’s not -”

“Tell me, Peter.”

“I didn’t want...I didn’t want you to be mad at me.” His fevered brain can’t quite string together the right words.

“How would...” He trails off. “How would sleeping with Ashlynn not make me mad?”

“I didn’t - we...it wasn’t...I know you’re tired of taking care of me, so -”

“What?” Leo’s tone has shifted.

“I know you’re sick of me being sick, so I was gonna just go home and sleep and then it was raining, and I was so fucking dizzy, and I was on 110th street -”

“Wait. Stop. Let me get this straight. You’re ill?”

“Yeah,” he says, and the guilt is absolutely eating him up. “I didn’t want to bother -”

“Love, why would that be bothering me?” Leo sounds almost sad.

“You-you’re so busy, and -”

“Peter, I don’t know what kind of miscommunication happened here but I’m not...I wouldn’t be bothered if I knew you weren’t feeling well. I mean, I’d be upset but just because I don’t want you to feel bad. I wouldn’t be mad at you or angry with you or something like that. Why would you have that idea?”

“I’d hate me if I was you,” he chokes out, and Leo sighs.

“Peter...Look, can I come get you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know that, that’s not why I asked.” He pauses. “Where’s Ashlynn?”

That’s a good question. Peter isn’t sure. At class, maybe?

“Not uh...not here.”

“Ok, I’m gonna call you back. I love you, ok?”

“Mmhm. Love you too.”

“Ok, just relax. Everything’s alright. Hang tight.”

“Ok.”

#my writing #oc peter #oc leo #snz #sickfic

19 notes · View notes

hayffiebird · 4 years

Text

Taste of Strawberries, Chap. 21

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M

I hope you like angst on your fanfic sandwish :) Leave a comment and tell me your thoughts!

Also: (spoiler not a spoiler) I included the Capitol anthem from the new THG book “The ballad of songbirds and snakes” but it doesn’t give away the story so it’s safe to read.

Chapter 21 The betrayal

*ring ring*

… What?

*swallows back a sob* Haymitch? Haymitch, it’s me.

Ah. There she is. Long time no princess. What can you want?

I’m sorry. I know I should have called you a long time ago.

Oh, I remember that voice. Effs Trinket needs a shoulder to cry on, huh? So she goes to good ol’ Haymitch. Course. *takes a mouthful of something* It’s too bad mine’re all the way down here then. Both of ‘em.

I can take the train. If I go now I ought to be…

Here in a day. Yeah. And I’m supposed to just welcome you with open arms?

Haymitch…

That’s my name.

I really must speak to you. It’s im…

What for? I’m a dead-end drunk, remember?

I’ve never called…

No, that’s right. Your words were much fancier.

I know you’re angry. This is not easy for me either but…

I’m fine, sweetheart. Just fine. Can’t ruin a life that’s already ruined, right? I s’pose you want all your crap back? Yeah, the kids have it. They think you’re gonna come back, you know. “When hell freezes over”, am I right? But you know Peeta. I’ll just tell ‘em to send it over straight away so you never have to set your foot here ever again. Great, huh?

You left me, Haymitch! I didn’t want you to go! I didn’t want it to end!

Could’ve fooled me. *twists the top of another bottle* And don’t you worry your pretty head, sweetheart. You’ll get over it. Trust me. Soon you’re gonna find some nice, wholesome guy who does exactly what he’s told. It’ll be all: “Yes, Euphemia. No, Euphemia. Whatever you say, Eu…”

Don’t call me that! Haymitch, please! Mrs. Q, she… she tried to… I need you! If you care about me at all…

Oh, I cared about you. A lot. More than a lot. Should’ve fucking known better. So why don’t you call Plutarch or Octavia or any other of your friends and just leave me alone. Cause I owe you nothing. Nothing at all.

*sobs* I’m so stupid.

Have a wonderful life, Eff. I’m sure you’re gonna be deliriously happy.

*toot toot*

xXx

There was still some broth left. Katniss slipped her flask into a jacket pocket and poured a second mug.

The storm had finally blown itself out, for now anyway, but one look through the window quelled all hope for a hunting day. No point roaming the woods for sustenance when the snow lay waist-deep.

She fed Buttercup her last piece of bacon and carried the mug into the living room.

“I’m going to the bakery.”

Nightmares had made Haymitch kick all the cushions off the couch again. He lay on his side with the knife cradled against his chest like some scary version of a teddy bear.

“There’re scrambled eggs if you want it,” Katniss said. “And some bacon. I left it on the stove.”

She couldn’t set the mug down. Wasn’t enough space on the coffee table and Haymitch grunted at the sound of glass against glass when she tossed the empties in the container by the door.

He muttered something she couldn’t make sense of and pulled his arm up over his eyes to ward off the light from the one lamp. “Drink the broth at least.” She placed the cup at arm’s reach and was gone.

It was almost a month now since Haymitch set up camp on their couch. One day mid-dinner he just staggered into their living room and he hadn’t left since.

He was decent enough to not completely trash the place but still, you didn’t want Haymitch Abernathy for a roommate. He was hard enough to deal with nextdoor.

Katniss couldn’t stand it being at home these days. Haymitch woke both her and Peeta almost every night with the agonized sounds he made in his sleep and daytime was no better.

Their mentor, hollow-eyed and shrunken on the couch – it all reminded her too much of her mother and Katniss fled when she couldn’t help. She kept to the woods as much as possible and if not the woods the bakery or the Hob or Hazelle’s.

Anywhere but home.

When they finally asked him if it wasn’t time he moved back to his own house, they cleaned it for him, Haymitch only shot them a long look, like a dog they had just mistreated and rolled over so he faced the couch.

“She’s there,” that’s all he muttered.

And what could they do? Not tie him up and dump him somewhere. He was their mentor and they already owed him more than they could ever repay.

They had known something was off the moment they got home, the day before Christmas Eve.

They walked up the old pathway, loaded with bags and the first thing they saw when they passed Haymitch’s house was the Christmas tree lying in the snow, still green and frosty and covered with ornaments. Like someone had just thrown it out the door.

And it wasn’t the only thing.

In the ever-growing light they saw the ground littered with items. Towels and bed sheets and bath robes lay in bundles, all frozen stiff. Soggy, old newspapers and magazines too, blown apart by the frisk wind.

Her clothes were everywhere, along with an endless number of bottles and jars and other beauty products half-buried in the snow. They found napkins and slippers, perfume bottles and pillows. Hairbrushes, tea cups, blankets, curtains, shower curtains, even anagrammed towel hangers attached to chunks of the bathroom wall.

The state of his house was even worse, like a twister had gone through it. They asked him about it but Haymitch was a closed book.

Then, of course they found Effie’s note on their kitchen table and it wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened in their short absence.

They wanted to help. Of course they did. Only, how? Wasn’t like they could change what had already happened or say anything to make it better.

Not that Peeta didn’t try to talk to him. Talk at him. Finally Katniss stepped up and said, not unkindly,

“Just leave him be.”

Haymitch had said next to nothing the whole time but when Katniss and Peeta turned to leave he stopped them in their tracks.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said and looked Peeta straight in the eye; a feat considering how intoxicated he was. “You don’t get any ideas ‘bout calling the Capitol, alright. I mean it, boy. This is my wreckage.”

Sun set early this time of year. For the remaining hours, Katniss and Peeta dug for treasures in Haymitch’s garden, until they had to squint in order to see. And even then some of Effie’s belongings would probably not be found until Spring.

They brought it all back to their house. Silently, Peeta filled the sink with hot water and suds and washed the plates and glasses and tea cups while Katniss stood at the ready with a towel, both of them deep in thought.

Back in District 4, when Peeta gathered her in bed, he had teased her about their cosy, up-coming Christmas. Painted her pictures of Effie plaguing both her and Haymitch with her bright holiday spirit and bringing them gifts – wrapped in regular wrappings so she didn’t technically break Haymitch’s rule of “no Christmas presents.”

Dinner at the Hob would follow where Effie would spend about two thirds of it clucking over Haymitch’s table manners and Haymitch stating he should just hire her voice to cut his turkey for him and “we’re not doing this again, that’s for sure”, all the while not quite able to keep his hands to himself.

“And then they’ll top the evening with a see-through excuse like ‘I’m gonna go get a bottle’ or ‘I am simply exhausted. Do you mind if we call it a night?’,” Peeta finished and grinned at Katniss who squirmed like a worm in hot ashes.

It just felt good to make fun of their mentor being happy for once. Happy with Effie.

Now, everything was in ruins and tomorrow would be just like any other day, with Haymitch drunk and getting drunker.

Not that Christmas had ever been a busy affair in the Victor’s Village. They had dinner and that was pretty much it. A slightly fancier one, perhaps, with about a 50% chance of Haymitch joining. He only ever showed up last New Year’s because of Effie.

Because of Effie. That phrase applied for many aspects of Haymitch’s life, didn’t it? He’d deny it but just the fact she got him to even consider drying out pretty much said everything.

“Maybe we should call her,” Peeta wondered, not sure himself.

“But you heard him,” Katniss said. “This is none of our business. And they’ll come around, eventually.”

They were both so used to their mentor and escort’s antics. Those stubborn, old fools were always at each other’s throat and through and through they found a way back to one other. Back at each other’s side.

This too would pass, surely? Sooner or later, one of them would swallow their pride and pick up the phone.

And while Katniss and Peeta waited for that call they stored Effie’s things for safe-keeping, well out of Haymitch’s sight and stopped asking questions.

But February rolled to a close with dark days and even darker nights. Life in Twelve was just one storm after another and people were forced to seek shelter at the Hob so as not to get lost in them. The vixen’s cry echoed in the night and Katniss and Peeta stored up on candle sticks for the blackouts.

March came with the deceiving breath of spring only to bury the district in a second winter. Hazelle’s kids put her on bed rest after a sprained ankle. Brooks gushed in plentiful streams under the ice and an apple-cheeked Katniss returned from the woods, game bag loaded with wild turkey.

April arrived with warmer weather. Tiny greens peeked in people’s gardens and the patches of last year’s grass grew bigger for each day. Water dropped down every icicle and town’s kids and Seam kids alike melted snow in water barrels to make the spring come faster.

Everyone kept busy. It was a time of change, of rebirth. Winter was finally over and it had a rejuvenating effect on everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

Effie’s name was never mentioned and yet she was ever present. If an outsider walked past and saw Haymitch on the couch he might think “same old, same old”. But Katniss and Peeta were family and they knew him better than that.

Haymitch had never been an easy person to deal with and definitely not a happy-go-lucky one. But every once in a while, if he had a couple hours of dreamless sleep it was like he got an energy boost.

That’s when he got up, checked on the geese, helped Peeta in the bakery, maybe just had a hot meal down at the Hob before he returned to his bottles.

Now, it was like he didn’t care about anything anymore. He just lay on the couch, drinking and God help the one who bothered him. He only ever left for the bathroom breaks or when his liquor ran out.

But even that came to an end.

It happened when Haymitch staggered into the Hob on a Sunday morning.

“Usual,” he slurred and tossed handfuls of money on Ripper’s bar counter.

“Sorry, Haymitch. You’re too early,” she said. “The train doesn’t arrive until Monday. We’re all out now.”

“Usual!” Haymitch repeated, louder this time like she was slow. Sighs rose from around the tables.

“It’s Sunday,” Ripper told him patiently. “Come back tomorrow and I’ll get your bottles. I can’t sell it to you now because we’re out.”

She couldn’t make him understand. Each time she tried Haymitch only got surlier. “Wha’s the problem?” he whined. “I have money. Wha’s the problem?”

He scared some of the little kids eating breakfast with their parents. The temperature in the diner seemed to have dropped twenty degrees and finally a gray-haired old man muttered, loud enough for Haymitch to hear it,

“Who’d have thought we’d ever wish for that fancy sow to come back?”

That’s when Haymitch wielded his knife. He was so drunk it was pathetic but for Ripper that was it! She kicked him out and told him either he left his knife at home or he would have to get someone else to buy him his liquor.

From then on, Katniss and Peeta stocked up his supplies and Haymitch found even fewer reasons to get up.

What for?

Maybe it would have been better, Katniss thought. Less cruel, if he never got those precious few months with Effie. Because losing her, losing her altogether and not just as a lover, seemed to have opened a crack in his rock bottom and pushed him down that hole as well.

And Effie, how was she doing?

xXx

May. God, he hated May. Ever since he turned twelve, the month right before the Hunger Games was nothing but a ticking clock. Even now, years after the war had ended, there were still times when he started awake, thinking,

Reaping day’s almost here!

He couldn’t sleep. While he marinated his liver a bug had detoured in to the house and was now buzzing about in the window.

The sound unnerved him because the bloody thing just wouldn’t give up! It bumped and thumped against the glass over and over again, yearning for freedom.

It was Peeta’s damn fault. He always opened a window when it rained.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, alright,” Haymitch growled and swung his legs off of the couch.

It was a wasp. Not the tracker jacker kind, just a regular one. It crawled along the window sill, flew into the glass once more and wiggled it’s antennae in irritation.

“Out with you now,” Haymitch muttered as he struggled with the window hooks. “Be free.” And watched the bug disappear.

The night air felt balmy against his skin. He took his time unscrewing the lid on the silver hip flask. The geese were quiet for a change but the mockingjays were still up, frisky and begging for company. He ran his hand through his wild beard and drank the flask dry. It didn’t take long.

He was just looking for something to fill it up with when he heard the sound. One even his soaked brain could place.

A phone. Ringing.

His mind jumped to Effie and he could’ve kicked himself for it. He resisted the desire to slam the window shut and closed it before he returned to the couch. The coffee table held nothing but empties. They clinked under his fingertips until he found one with some in it. He lifted it to his lips and greeted the burn with a sigh of relief.

Outside, the ringing continued. Even with the window closed, there was no escaping it.

It’s not her. Why’d she call now? No reason for her to call now.

After what felt like 10 years, the phone silenced. The knot in his stomach eased somewhat and after he promised himself to tear the phone out the wall as soon as the sun rose he walked over to the cabinet and peeked inside.

“Thank you, kids,” he mumbled at the welcomed sight. He grabbed same bottles at random and brought them back to the couch. But before he got the chance to flop down on his ass-print the phone went off again.

“Oh, fuck me,” he wheezed.

Who called him at three in the morning? No, strike that. Who called him, period?

Sweat trickled down his sides in never-ending streams. The sound played on his nerve strings like a violin. It was the wasp all over again because the caller, whoever it was, didn’t give up. Refused to stop until he did something about it.

A hundred whispered insults spilled over Haymitch’s lips as he pulled on his shoes.

He hadn’t seen the inside of his house in months. The last time he was here had been a fucking nightmare. Broken furniture, broken everything.

The long, hard signals cut through the stillness like a knife.

It’s not her.

He picked up the phone and the blare of music nearly ripped her ear drum. He held the thing a meter away.

“Hello?” someone called. “Helloo?”

He brought the phone closer.

“Who is this?”

“Well, hi to you too!” the person laughed. It was a woman’s voice. One he recognized, only he couldn’t quite place it. From the Capitol at least. “How’s the bachelor’s life treating you, Haycock?” the stranger woman asked. When he didn’t answer she went on, “It’s me, Gloria! Gloria Highgrass. We met at Octavia’s birthday party, remember? Yellow dress. Good-for-nothing cousin by my side.”

Haymitch drew a silent sigh. Of course.

“Where you’ve been hiding, hm?” she asked. ”Haven’t seen you in a while. Finally tired of your afternoon delight?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself.”

“Oh,” Gloria chuckled. “You kiss your bottle with that mouth? What would Effie said?”

Her words drew giggles. Clearly, they had an audience and he was just about to slam the phone down when she said,

“I just saw her, that little cock-warmer of yours. And between you and me: I don’t blame you for leaving. What a mess, haha! You screwed her up good, Haycock! She’s so unfuckable now! Well done, sir. Well done.”

And her brilliant laughter hammered his head.

“Do you know we all placed bets on how long the two of you would last? It’s true! You cost me a fortune, Haycock! You guys stuck it out way longer than I thought. And then my useless cousin told me about your little scene at the train station. ‘Get your shit together’ and all that. God, I wish I was there!”

She had a sip of something and then rallied on,

”You wanna know what I think? I think she planned the whole thing. So you’d never leave her. Too bad she forgot that district scum scurry off like cockroaches once the light’s on. Well, she’s paying for it now, isn’t she? How’d she tell you? Before or after you cleared out?”

It was a wonder the phone didn’t break in Haymitch’s fist. He could hardly breathe, that’s how furious he was. But he refused to give this woman the satisfaction of him losing his temper.

“Hey, lady,” he said, in a very measured voice. “If you know something about Effie, spit it out. Or else you can just stop wasting my time and go back to your pathetic little life.”

That finally silenced her. For about three seconds.

”You don’t know?” she said. “You kidding me? He doesn’t know!”

And everyone on the other end broke down in hysterical laughter. Gloria contained hers just long enough to say,

”Come back to the Capitol, Haycock! See for yourself!”

And she slammed the phone in his ear.

He couldn’t stand another second in this place. Her things may be gone but he still felt Effie’s presence in every corner of the house. Like fumes slowly killing you.

He didn’t realize how much his hands trembled until he was back on the couch. He balled them into fists.

The nerve of that woman! “Come see for yourself.” The hell’s that supposed to mean?

He needed a drink. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and tipped the first bottle he found in to his mouth, again and again until he came up choking.

The liquor numbed his worries like they numbed everything else.

“You screwed her up good.” Yeah, that’s likely. He didn’t fancy himself being important enough to lose even a minute’s sleep over.

Maybe so. But you’re not the only bad thing that’s happened to her. Remember?

“She’s fine,” he told the empty room. “Just fine.” Probably thrived now that she didn’t have to deal with him anymore. That low-life Gloria Highgrass was just fucking with his head. She wanted to cause a spectacle, get some gossip material, that’s all.

If Effie was in any kind of need all she had to do was pick up the phone and call him.

Besides, wasn’t like she kept in touch to see how he was fairing. It was damn clear she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. And if she didn’t care, why should he?

Yeah, he thought and reached for the next bottle. Let her deal with her own demons.

xXx

If Haymitch thought he was the only one up he was wrong. Katniss slept a deep slumber for once but all the creaks and groans coming from the floorboards downstairs finally wormed their way into Peeta’s dreams until he flinched awake.

The room burned with morning light. Peeta’s heart pounded in his chest but he remained still so as not to disturb Katniss while he listened to the sounds below.

It wasn’t the first time Haymitch “ghosted the halls”. Peeta remembered it especially well from their train rides together and back at the penthouse during the Games.

Sometimes it seemed like Haymitch just couldn’t stand to remain in the same place, locked inside his own head. And that’s when he stalked from room to room, aimlessly. Like a bear in a cage. Well, a bear with a bottle in its paw.

No, it wasn’t the first time but it was the first time in a while. And he used to go to bed with the sun so what was he still doing up?

At least with Haymitch on the couch, you knew where you had him. Finally Peeta carefully extracted himself from Katniss and slipped out of bed, just to check on him. That wouldn’t be a first either.

He reached the foot of the stairs just as Haymitch returned in to the living room, surprisingly sober. Sobered up. He sunk down on the couch, elbows on his knees. He never noticed Peeta. His eyes were squarely focused on something in his hands.

Peeta couldn’t tell what it was at first but then Haymitch shifted it over and the penny suddenly dropped.

It was a paper goose. The paper goose. He knew it well because it used to sit on the window sill back in his studio. Haymitch must have ventured inside and stumbled upon it by co-incidence.

Effie’s paper goose. Well, Haymitch’s really since she gave it to him.

Peeta remembered the day she made it. It was the summer Haymitch had brought her here after the over-dose.

She had one of her good days and joined them for breakfast in the studio. He painted, Katniss ate cheese buns, Haymitch doodled a horrible caricature of Effie and in exchange she made him this little origami creature.

A good day in an ocean of bad ones.

Shortly after, the night terrors sent her in a down-ward spiral again and just to keep her from clocking out Haymitch said he thought about getting some geese. What’d she think?

The idea probably originated from Chaff. Eleven’s victor loved everything made from the bird. Roast goose and buttered potatoes, corned goose hash, fried eggs with mushrooms.

Those were the dishes he ordered at the training centre before the third Quarter Quell and if memory didn’t deceive Peeta he even told Caesar Flickerman after he was crowned victor, that he liked to raise geese once he returned to District Eleven.

Now he never really got that idea off the table. Instead, Haymitch did. Well, sort of. None of his birds had ever wound up on a plate.

In any case, Peeta bet the whole ”let’s go to Eleven” adventure wasn’t motivated by some great desire to buy geese. That’s just what Haymitch had her believe. Because for whatever reason Effie lived up a little whenever she got to plan things. It gave her a sense of control.

It was slick how he played it. Made her think “This will be good for Haymitch” when really it was “good for Effie”. Something to keep her mind occupied. His own way to try and coax her out of her depression.

A hundred memories drenched up by one paper bird. That’s what Peeta witnessed this very moment. Haymitch could have crushed it easily. Just made a fist and tossed it on the fire. He tossed everything else that even vaguely reminded him of her.

He didn’t. The way he held it, you’d think it was one of his goslings and he had a look on his face that would not have been there, had he known someone was watching.

“Morning,” Katniss yawned as she walked in to the kitchen, hours later. Peeta stood by the stove, quietly pouring hot water through the tea leaves. She reached for the jug of orange juice to set it on the table. “Where’s Haymitch at? I didn’t see him.”

“On the train.”

Katniss stopped, eyebrows lifted.

“You sure?”

In answer, he pointed at the table and she discovered the note, jotted down on a scrap of paper.

I’m gonna go see Effie. Call her and tell her I’m coming, OK? Thanks.

“You talked to her? What’d she say? What?” she asked at the look on Peeta’s face.

“I tried, for about an hour,” he said. “I can’t get through. The phone’s disconnected.”

xXx

Gem of Panem Mighty city Through the ages, you shine anew

Intertwined with their laughter, the Capitol anthem echoed around the deserted city. Morning light stretched their shadows into four giants as they walked down the street, arm-in-arm. Their makeup was smeared, the flowers in their outfits drooping. All evidence of what a smash hit the night had been!

We humbly kneel To your ideal And pledge our love to you!

Coriana’s voice rose highest of them all, the only member in their quartet who could hit all the high notes, drunk or sober, but they all joined in just as merrily with the voice they had.

Gem of Panem Heart of justice Wisdom crowns your marble brow

It felt good, comforting, to chant the age old verses of their childhood. The real anthem of Panem. The politically correct atrocity Paylor whipped together didn’t hold a candle to it!

You give us light You reunite To you we make our vow

Tipsy to say the least, Priscilla wobbled dangerously in her sky-high heels but each time she careened to far to the left, they steered her right again with many giggles and “Oopsy-daisy!”

Gem of Panem Seat of power Strength in peacetime, shield in strife

“Oh, this is my favorite part!” warbled Imogen who couldn’t carry a tune with a gun to her head.

Protect our land With armored hand Our Capitol, our…

Lancer gasped, mid-through the final crescendo. Linked with the others he almost toppled them over at sudden halt.

“My gracious!” he said. “It’s Haymitch Abernathy!”

Up ahead, a man had just appeared round a corner. Ruffled clothes, hair hanging forward, everything about him completely out of place here. He paid them no attention but it was him, without a doubt. The drunken traitor of District 12.

“You heard about him and Effie Trinket, right?” Imogen asked in a loud whisper.

“Of course we heard,” said Coriana. “The whole town knows.”

“Ugh. Just look at him.” Priscilla wrinkled her nose. “At least on television he dressed decently. Disgusting!”

“She’s the one who’s disgusting,” Lancer said and pursed his lips. “He’s district. What did you expect? But a Capitolian really should know better.”

“I would jump off a cliff if it was me!”

“It could never be you, Imogen, the very thought!” said Coriana. “What’s he doing here again? Flaunting himself on our streets after what he did. What they did!”

If Haymitch heard them he didn’t show it and he didn’t change his course. When they remained shoulder to shoulder, gawking at him he sawed right through them like they were a flock of pigeons and they jumped apart with furious cries.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” Priscilla shouted to his back. “I really think you should!”

Those four weren’t the only ones who questioned what Haymitch was doing in the Capitol. Had there been one positive consequence of him and Effie breaking up it was that he would never have to see this place again.

Well, the joke’s on him.

She’s not back on pills, he told himself as he kicked a squashed ice cream cup far up the street. She promised she wouldn’t go down that road again.

The train ride was hell on earth. Throughout the long hours he failed to quiet his mind, to shake off his worries over Glorias’s words and why he couldn’t get a call through to Effie. Just thinking about their impending reunion made him sick, until he finally caved in to the bottles in his duffel.

Ironically, the one thing that stopped him from drinking himself completely senseless was the paper goose, now hitching a ride in his pocket. It helped him focus.

Walking the deserted avenues, through glitter and serpentines left from some party only reminded him of the first time he came here unannounced.

Little Ms. Hypocrite. She was one to talk about having someone almost die in your arms.

But she’s not back on pills.

The brightness of the sun reflected in the candy buildings, the lush public gardens alive with bird song, the bounty flowerbeds, the gushing fountains. It was like the Capitol mocked him with its splendor. Days like this were Effie’s favourites.

And there her building was. He saw it over the roof tops, windows reflecting bits of the blue sky. With a grimace, Haymitch slowed his steps like he’d run out of gas. Fuck it. He needed a drink. One more or less, what did it matter? He wasn’t going to stay here long anyway.

He was still struggling to close the zipper as he entered her street, her curb. He pulled the straps over his shoulder, about to give the door a knock.

And he just stared. Dumb-founded, for half a minute or more. Gaped at her front door, like the gaggle of fools he passed earlier.

No, no this can’t be right, he thought, unable to take in what his eyes were telling him. It’s gotta be a mistake.

The name plate on Effie’s door was gone. The window shutters were all closed. He turned the handle. It wouldn’t budge. He rang the bell. He knocked, pounded rather. No one opened. The place was completely dead.

But it made no sense! Effie had lived in this apartment almost all her life!

He walked over to the windows, shielded his eyes from the sunlight as he tried to peer through the shutters for any movements inside.

“Eff?”

He returned to the door, raised his hand for another knock.

“She’s not here,” a voice rung out.

He turned at the sound. On the other side of the road, just across from him, stood an old lady. The same dry twig of a woman he’d seen twice before. At least twice.

“Mr. Abernathy,” she said. The sun glinted off the gem stones in her wrinkled cheeks. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line. “Didn’t think I would ever see you here again.”

He crossed the road.

“The hell’s going on here? Where’s Effie?”

The woman’s pale green eyes pierced his. She had to lift her chin to do it. Just like Sae she barely cleared his shoulders but that’s where the similarities ended. Because this woman’s eyes held none of her warmth or gaiety.

And yet, behind the frost he noticed that same sadness he’d seen there before. Only not for him.

“I warned her”, she said. “I told her from the very beginning not to get involved with someone like you. A man who would give her nothing but heartache. But she never heeded my advice. She didn’t want to listen.”

“Here’s an idea,” Haymitch cut her off. “How ‘bout you quit playing games with me and tell me what you know.”

“I blame myself,” the woman continued, unfazed by the interruption. “I insisted she applied for an escortship. If she became an architect like she first wanted, she wouldn’t be where she is now. Maybe none of us would.”

“Who are you?” Haymitch demanded. “What’s your name?”

“Mrs. Quinlan.”

Quinlan? He had definitely heard that name before. Nothing Games related, at least he didn’t think so. No, Effie had mentioned her at some point. Yeah, at the hospital, after her rescue. She asked if she was still alive. If she was safe.

Mrs. Q.

“You’re Eff’s landlady.”

The woman shook her head.

“Not anymore.”

“Because you kicked her out.”

“She’s beyond my help,” Mrs. Quinlan said. “Euphemia was a good girl, Mr. Abernathy. A good daughter. I have wept blood for her sake but I never gave up on her. Even after the war. She got one last chance to make amends. To build up a life for herself that she could be proud of. And she went and threw it all away the moment she decided to keep your young.”

Haymitch heard the words, loud and clear, but it was like he couldn’t absorb them. Make sense of what she just said.

It was like when he was little and broke his arm, falling down a tree. They all saw it was broken but it didn’t hurt. Not straight away. Like the shock was so great nothing registered.

“’Keep my young?’ he rasped. Heat rose up his throat and face until it burned. “What do you mean ‘keep my young’?”

For the first time, a flicker of surprise registered on Mrs. Quinlan’s face.

“Where is she?” He didn’t think his voice would carry at all. Instead it echoed around the buildings. “If not here, where’s she staying?”

“Go home, Mr Abernathy,” she said. “You have done enough damage as it is.”

“If you don’t want me to wake the entire neighborhood, you tell me where she is!”

Sleepy heads already poked out windows at the commotion. There were murmurs, curious looks thrown their way. Mrs. Quinlan’s lips pressed into the same tight line.

“She moved in with Caesar Flickerman’s daughter. I assume I don’t have to tell you which one.”

xXx

The bearded dragon slumped on her favorite spot in the vivarium - a gnarled old tree root and basked in the warm rays slanting through the windows.

When they first got her she fitted in your pocket. Now they had to use both hands to carry her properly. Sandy yellow and with a look on her face like “you’re all beneath me” you’d think she was the distant cousin of a certain District 12 cat but it was only an illusion.

“Hey, you,” June said and slipped a hand inside the enclosure, knuckles down, fingers outstretched in an inviting gesture. The reptile crawled down the root and over to her. June gave her a soft scratch under the spiky chin and the animal climbed up her palm.

Annabel sat by the secretary desk, her tea long cold and forgotten, but when June passed, she took the time petting their dragon before she returned to her letter. She eyed what she’d just written, critically and gave a deep sigh.

“They won’t even…”

“They will,” said June. She had settled on the couch with the dragon on her lap. The animal closed her eyes under the soft strokes.

It had been a quiet, docile morning with just the occasional car passing by and the gentle scratch of pen against paper.

“The crates should arrive today,” said June and reached for her own cup of tea.

Right on cue the bell rang.

“Speaking of the devil,” said Annabel. She set the pen down and slowly and painfully flexed her fingers.

It rang again, on her way through the hallway.

“Coming!” She pulled her hair back in a hasty pony tail. A shadow moved behind the frosted glass. She took the chain off the door.

And came face to face with the victor of District 12.

”Mr. Abernathy,” she said, eyebrows lifted. “I…”

He didn’t let her finish.

”Effie,” he said. His face was a deep red. “She here?”

“Bel?” June’s voice fluttered in from the living room.

“Is she here?” Haymitch repeated, the fury behind the words only barely contained. “Never mind that. I know she is.”

“She’s here, Mr. Abernathy,” said Annabel.

That’s all he needed. He pushed past her.

“Eff?” he called as he stalked into the living room. June had risen, face white as paper. The dragon’s tail flailed between her cupped hands at the sudden alarm.

Annabel had followed inside and he turned on her again.

“I know all about it,” he spat. She could smell the hard liquor fumes on him. June quickly set the reptile back in the safety of the vivarium. “I know she’s pregnant so don’t try and lie to me!”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s resting.”

“Well, go and wake her up!”

“Mr. Abernathy,” she said, voice suddenly firm. “You will not shout in my house.”

“I don’t care! She thought she can just have my kid and never tell me? Who the hell does she think she is!? I wanna talk to her. Give her a piece of my mind!”

“Not until you’ve calmed down!”

“The hell with you! I’ll go find her myself.”

He turned for the door but she was right at his heel.

“Stop it!” June cried when Haymitch shoved Annabel’s hand off of him. The tea cup knocked over and crashed against the floor. The dragon ran frantically around in its cage. “Stop!”

“Get your fucking hands off me!”

“Haymitch, what are you doing!?”

Her cry made them all turn. Flushed and out of breath from the rush and alarm Effie stood in the doorway, a robe carelessly thrown over her nightdress. Her eyes locked on his, for the first time in months and the words choked in his throat. It was like the rest of the room and everyone in it just disappeared. Everyone but Effie.

And through the blood pounding in his head he could make only one coherent thought.

What have I done to her?

xXx

“I’ll be in the back if you need anything,” Annabel said as she swept up the last of the broken cup. A spitting mad June had already retreated to their bedroom, carrying the dragon with her and now Annabel went as well, leaving Haymitch and Effie to talk in private.

Not that Haymitch looked like he’d ever speak again. He hunkered in the armchair with his arms crossed over his chest. Effie sat on the couch but they could just as well be light years apart.

“Who told you?” she asked in a hushed voice.

”Does it matter?” He wasn’t yelling now. Wouldn’t even look at her. He seemed to have aged ten years in the past half hour.

“No,” said Effie. “No, I suppose not.”

She had a blanket draped over herself. Like that was going to hide anything.

“I thought you were on the pill?”

“I was.”

“Time and money you could’ve saved, clearly,” he said through gritted teeth. “And the whole Capitol knows I’m the father?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I wanted to tell you.”

“So why didn’t you? If you have my kid rolling around in your tummy I deserve to know about it, don’t you think?”

When she didn’t answer straight away his eyes darted to her face. And his insides contracted all over again as cold panic flooded his limbs.

“What, Eff?”

”It’s...” Her voice faltered. “We’re not...”

“We’re what?”

He saw his own anxiety mirrored in her eyes. She placed her hand against her stomach and his throat closed up. Because he knew the truth before she said it.

No! No, I don’t wanna hear it!

”It’s two,” she said. “Haymitch, I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. I didn’t…”

But Haymitch had already heaved himself to his feet. He wanted to throw up. He would throw up.

“I can’t do this.”

”Wait,” she said but he didn’t look at her. Couldn’t look at her and her big stomach.

”I need some air.”

xXx

“Good afternoon, Mathilda,” Mr. Bumble smiled when he crossed her door. His elegant, twirled up mustache was dyed a dusk pink today, the same color as the lap dog, freezing at his feet.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bumble,” Mrs. Quinlan said, hoping he would pick up on the very inappropriate use of her first name.

He didn’t.

“I’d stay and chat,” he said, “but Helga is waiting for us.” And he gave his bouquet of blue roses a little wave. “It’s our anniversary, you know! 25 years!”

“How wonderful. Give her my best,” Mrs. Quinlan said mechanically as he trotted off down the street. If Helga was home or even remembered what day it was, she would eat up her hat.

She dropped the key in to her handbag and crossed the road, mindful of any ice patches hidden under the fresh snow.

The door was locked but that she only expected. So she slipped her hand into her handbag and got out different set of keys. Normally she took pride in not using them but the girl had sounded very off on the phone. Sad.

“Euphemia?” she said as she stepped inside. The flat was dark but she turned the lights on as she went. She knew her way around this apartment, almost as well as her own. “Euphemia, where are you?”

She heard noises from the master bedroom. Retches that led her straight for the adjoined bathroom.

Effie’s nightgown clung to her with sweat. Slumped down on her knees, she clutched the toilet seat as she threw up. Tears and perspiration rolled down her face from the ordeal.

She didn’t hear anyone come in. That way she never saw the complete and utter shock on Mrs. Quinlan’s face. But she quickly composed herself again.

“Euphemia.”

Effie looked up, startled.

“Oh”, she groaned. She was pale as a sheet, her eyes wet and red. “Mrs. Q, now’s… not a good time.”

And she disappeared inside the bowl again as the next wave rolled in.

Mrs. Quinlan didn’t say anything. She just pulled up a stool and seated herself. She gathered Effie’s hair with one hand and held it back from her face until the worst was over.

When Effie grew still, head heavy against her arms, just heaving breaths of both exhaustion and relief Mrs. Quinlan reached for a towel.

“Here,” she said and soaked it under the faucet. “Clean yourself.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Q,” Effie mumbled and dabbed her mouth with it. She felt Mrs. Quinlan’s eyes on her and tried to elude them by wiping the tears off her cheeks. “I am not quite myself today.”

“Euphemia.”

“Must be something I ate.”

“Euphemia, look at me, please.”

With an enormous effort, Effie lifted her head. She swallowed and swallowed. The color of her face had returned, from barely holding it together.

“Are you with child?”

Those words did it. It was like a dam broke. Effie buried her face against her babysitter’s lap and now they came. All those pent-up tears she hadn’t been able to shed since that awful day with Haymitch on the train station.

Mrs. Quinlan’s face was taut as a string.

”There now,” she murmured and stroked Effie’s hair. ”You will be alright. It’s going to be just fine.”

Effie soaked Mrs. Quinlan’s skirt with her sobs and it was like she was little again.

She’d been four or five and accidentally knocked over a vase. Everything in Mrs. Quinlan’s apartment was either ancient or valuable or both and little Effie stared in horror at the broken pierces. Finally she ran off and hid.

For the next half-hour Mrs. Quinlan had to go from room to room and from closet to closet, peer inside the cupboards and behind every thick curtain, calling her name. When she finally found her in the laundry basket Effie was so terror-struck she burst in to a wail of tears.

But Mrs. Q just scoped her up, pulled a dirty child sock off the side of her dress and carried her into the living room. With her skinny arms linked around Mrs. Q’s neck Effie sniveled and whimpered the entire time, her little body racked with sobs.

Mrs. Q. wrapped her in one of her own shawls that smelled of perfume and to the rhythm of the creaky old rocking chair, she hummed her to sleep with a Capitol lullaby.

She had never felt so safe.

“Why don’t you take a shower, Euphemia,” Mrs. Quinlan said once Effie’s sobs had subsided a little. She patted her hand between her own icy ones. “And then you and I will have a cup of nice, hot tea.”

“Oh, that is awfully sweet, mrs. Q, but I think I rather,” she started to object but Mrs. Quinlan only waved a finger in the air.

“It will do you some good,” she said. “Tea at my place, four o’clock.”

Effie had avoided Mrs. Quinlan’s flat for the past almost two years. She had spent a great deal of her childhood in the company of her landlady when mother and father couldn’t or wouldn’t take their daughter with them to one of their events.

But these days there was only one subject Mrs. Q wanted to discuss when they met and Effie found herself coming up with excuses. Because it didn’t matter how many times she tried to change the subject, Mrs. Q always steered the conversation back on the same sole topic.

Haymitch Abernathy.

Effie never talked about her and Haymitch’s relationship. Not with Mrs. Q or anyone else. But living just across the road, Mrs. Quinlan seemed to know everything anyway.

She didn’t approve. She never liked the gruff and unrefined victor of District 12 and nothing could change her mind.

She just didn’t understand. How could she? No one in the Capitol did.

“How far along are you?” she asked and poured them tea from the plump china pot. Effie tried to breathe through her nose. Just thinking about ingesting something made her queasy.

“Nine weeks.”

“Have you told him yet? Are you sure it’s his?”

“Mrs. Quinlan,” said Effie tiredly. “We’ve been through this. I’m sorry, but it’s private and really no one else’s business.”

“So, I take that as a yes,” she said mildly.

Exhausted, Effie’s eyes wandered longingly to the snow-specked window beyond Mrs. Q.

“He should have taken precautions,” the old woman said. “The situation he puts you in.”

”It wasn’t his fault,” said Effie. ”It just… happened.”

Mrs. Quinlan poured cream into her cup but Effie didn’t touch it. All she really wanted was to lie down.

There were cookies rounded up on the silvery cake stand. The frosting wasn’t like Peeta’s. Not nearly as nice but looking at them only reminded her of those lazy days in District 12 and Haymitch, teasing her for having such a sweet-tooth.

”Drink now,” said Mrs. Quinlan. “Add a little honey. Or would you rather I put some ginger in? It helps with the nausea.”

“No, it’s OK.”

Effie lifted the cup just to humor her. She was about to take a sip when the warm scent curled into her nose. A crease appeared between her eyebrows.

Mrs. Quinlan didn’t like surprises. Her routines had been virtually unchanged for the past decades. She washed her hands with the same kind of rose soap, combed her hair with the ivory comb that had survived two wars and she always drank jasmine tea.

This wasn’t jasmine tea. Effie should know. After all those tea parties at this very table, the flowery aroma was forever ingrained in her memory. She took another tentative sniff of the strange and unfamiliar fragrance.

It had a faint minty quality but not quite like the mint tea in District 12. She doubted she ever had it in the Capitol either. And yet the smell tugged at her, tried to tell her something.

Her eyes flitted to Mrs. Quinlan. The old woman stirred her own cup in slow, precise circles. The silver spoon rasped the bottom of the china. A cup she had yet to touch.

And a wave of dread flushed Effie’s face when the name surfaced.

”It’s pennyroyal.”

Mrs. Quinlan looked her in the eye. Her face was as hard and unyielding as the gems in her cheeks.

”You should never have let him into your bed.”

The beverage scalded Effie’s hands when she pushed back from the table. She stared at Mrs. Quinlan, eyes wide in terror.

”It’s for your own good, Euphemia. Nobody ever needs to know. It will be like it never happened.”

Effie didn’t stay to hear the rest. She fled the room, didn’t bother with her coat just bolted for the door. Her hands shook so badly she couldn’t work the locks and one terrible moment she thought herself trapped.

Footsteps approached or she imagined they did and a shriek escaped her lips. Then the door flew open and she staggered out into the sleet.

Blood pounded her ears as she locked her front door, fled into her bedroom and locked that door as well. She was shaking all over and slumped rather than sat down on the bed, hand clamped over her mouth.

I didn’t drink it. I never drank it.

Her vision was so blurred it took her three efforts to dial the right number. Her hand found her tummy and she tried to draw slow, deep breaths to calm the erratic beating of her heart.

”It’s OK,” she whispered to the unborn baby in her belly. ”It’s OK. You’re OK.”

So many signals just came and went, her hopes faltered with each one. Until,

“What?”

A sob slipped between her lips at the sound of his voice. She couldn’t help it. Her palm remained against her bump that wasn’t even a bump yet. Just a slight swelling beneath her dress. It made her feel stronger.

”Haymitch?” She fought to keep her voice steady. ”Haymitch, it’s me.”

“Ah, there she is,” he said with the nasty edge that sometimes crept into his voice when he drank, especially now under these circumstances. “Long time no princess. What can you want?”

“I’m sorry. I know I should have called you a long time ago.”

“Oh, I remember that voice. Effs Trinket needs a shoulder to cry on, huh? So she goes to good ol’ Haymitch. Course.” She heard him take a swig from a bottle. “It’s too bad mine’re all the way down here, then. Both of ‘em.”

“I can take the train.” Tears threatened to spill over her lashes but she held them back. Didn’t want to break down in to a blubbering mess. ”If I go now I ought to be…”

“Here in a day. Yeah. And I’m supposed to just welcome you with open arms?”

“Haymitch…”

“That’s my name.”

“I really must speak to you. It’s im…”

“What for?” he cut her off. “I’m a dead-end drunk, remember?”

“I’ve never called…”

“No, that’s right. Your words were much fancier.”

A wave of despair rose up within Effie. It was like a physical pain.

“I know you’re angry,” she said. ”This is not easy for me either but…”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just fine. Can’t ruin a life that’s already ruined, right? I s’pose you want all your crap back? Yeah, the kids have it. They think you’re gonna come back, you know. ‘When hell freezes over’, am I right? But you know Peeta. I’ll just tell ‘em to send it over straight away so you never have to set your foot here ever again. Great, huh?”

“You left me, Haymitch!” Effie cried and her voice broke. “I didn’t want you to go! I didn’t want it to end!”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He twisted the top of another bottle. “And don’t you worry your pretty head, sweetheart. You’ll get over it. Trust me. Soon you’re gonna find some nice, wholesome guy who does exactly what he’s told. It’ll be all: ‘Yes, Euphemia. No, Euphemia. Whatever you say, Eu…’”

“Don’t call me that!” she cried at the sound of Mrs. Quinlan’s name for her. “Haymitch, please!” She didn’t care that she begged now, hand clutched against her stomach like she could somehow protect it that way. ”Mrs. Q, she… she tried to… I need you! If you care about me at all…”

“Oh, I cared about you,” Haymitch said. “A lot. More than a lot. Should’ve fucking known better. So why don’t you call Plutarch or Octavia or any other of your friends and just leave me alone. Cause I owe you nothing. Nothing at all.”

Tears rolled down Effie’s face and she abandoned all efforts to try and stop them.

“I’m so stupid.”

“Have a wonderful life, Eff. I’m sure you’re gonna be deliriously happy.”

And she was left with just the flat audio tone.

Author’s note: I don’t know who I feel the most sorry for. Haymitch or Effie. How about you? And hayffie twins are on the way!

What did you think of Mathilda Quinlan? I face claim Geraldine Chaplin for her, the way she looked when she played Aurora in “The Orphanage”.

#hayffie #everlark #haymitch x effie #taste of strawberries fanfic #thg #post-mockingjay #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #fanfiction #myfanfiction #district 12 #the capitol

9 notes · View notes

kokoronokuroyami · 4 years

Note

🌟 For relationship ask meme

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Kuro. Hajime usually tries to stay calm during an argument where as Kuro is very emotion driven outside of prosecution

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? I don’t think either would be that cruel

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Kuro might try to run away at times because he’s scared he’ll hurt Hajime but Hajime always stops them

Who trashes the house? Neither they’re clean fighters

Do either of them get physical? they grab each other’s shoulders or clothes some times but they would never deliberately try to hurt each other

How often do they argue/disagree? it’s very rare but when they happen they’re big Who is the first to apologise? flip flops

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? they have a daughter and a son, Yume and Daisuke If so, how many children do your muses want/have? 2 Who is the favorite parent? both parents are loved dearly Who is the authoritative parent? Kuro tends to be a bit stricter but Hajime is more protective Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Hajime is very serious about the children’s education but he knows when the children need a mental health day Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? Kuro pretends to be mad when they steal cookies and candy but he was young once and he and his sister did that themselves so he lets it slide. Hajime joins in on the sweet stealing

Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? Depends if they’re working on a case or not

Who goes to parent teacher interviews?

They both try to actively be a part of their children’s lives so they both attend meetings wherever possible or at least have one of them appear

Who changes the diapers? Kuro and Hajime split the baby care evenly and take turns doing diapers

Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby?

Kuro doesn’t because he has more difficulty sleeping in comparison to Hajime

Who spends the most time with the children?

They both try to spend as much time with their children as possible.

Who packs their lunch boxes? They have a roster as to who’s turn it is Who gives their children ‘the talk’? Hajime has a better way with words

Who cleans up after the kids? Hajime is a bit of a neat freak so he does Who worries the most?

Kuro Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? Hajime

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Kuro is a little cuddle monster Who is the little spoon? Kuro unless Hajime is really tired and emotional Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? I’m not qualified to divulge that information Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? Really depends on the situations How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Till the end of time

Who gives the most kisses? I like to think Hajime does while Kuro is a ball of blushes

What is their favourite non-sexual activity? Snuggling and watching movies Where is their favourite place to cuddle? On the couch Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? I don’t…. think they would? How often do they get time to themselves? Not that often when they get their jobs and the kids but they make it work

Sleeping:

Who snores? Hajime maybe If both do, who snores the loudest? Still Hajime Do they share a bed or sleep separately? Share a bed If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Depends on the night. they tend to cozy up most of the time though Who talks in their sleep? Kuro is an avid sleep talker What do they wear to bed? I can’t speak of Hajime but Kuro has a wolf onesie Are either of your muses insomniacs? Kuro isn’t an insomniac but he doesn’t sleep much Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Hajime insisted Kuro get a prescription after he figured out he wasn’t sleeping and was endangering his and their child’s health Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? little bit of both Who wakes up with bed hair? Both Who wakes up first? Kuro most times, Hajime really struggles with surprising him Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Hajime does when Kuro is sick What is their favourite sleeping position? Spooning Who hogs the sheets? Not always but it’s Kuro

Do they set an alarm each night? Hajime does Can a television be found in their bedroom? Probably not because Kuro prefers books Who has nightmares? Both but Kuro more than Hajime Who has ridiculous dreams? Hajime probably Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Daisuke and Yume Who makes the bed? Both, gets done faster What time is bed time? 10:00pm at the earliest 3:00 am at the latest Any routines/rituals before bed? Kuro has to read at least one chapter of his book Hajime has to make sure that all the windows are locked Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Kuro

Work:

Who is the busiest? Kuro is a workaholic Who rakes in the highest income? Kuro as he is a pretty successful prosecutor Are any of your muses unemployed? the kids because child labor laws protect them Who takes the most sick days? Kuro because he works himself sick and Hajime forces him to stay home Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Neither Who sucks up to their boss? Kuro is technically Hajime’s boss but Kuro tends to try and get on Edgeworth’s good side What are their jobs? Kuro is a prosecutor and Hajime is his detective, they tried to keep their relationships under wraps so they could work on cases together but a murder case unraveled that Who stresses the most? Kuro Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Kuro may be a workaholic but that’s because he loves his job and has dreams of fixing the system Are your muses financially stable? they make a decent living

Home:

Who does the washing? Kuro

Who takes out the trash? Hajime

Who does the ironing? Kuro

Who does the cooking? They take turns

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? the kids

Who is messier? Kuro Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Neither Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? the kids Who forgets to flush the toilet? neither

Who is the prankster around the house? Hajime Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Both seem to remember

Who mows the lawn? Hajime Who answers the telephone? Kuro Who does the vacuuming? Hajime Who does the groceries? They Brocery shop Who takes the longest to shower? both if they shower together Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Neither

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Not a problem as in they’re rich but they aren’t struggling either How many cars do they own? 1 but they prefer walking Do they own their home or do they rent? They own a small house, sometimes an apartment depending on the story Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? They’re closer to the countryside Do they live in the city or in the country? The city Do they enjoy their surroundings? They like their home What’s their song? Hold me by Farid Momodov What do they do when they’re away from each other? Wait for the other to come back just kidding they spend time with friends and family and catch up Where did they first meet? Hope’s Peak Academy Reserve Course How did they first meet? Hajime found Kuro crying after he got picked on by bullies Who spends the most money when out shopping? Both were raised to be pretty frugal Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Not sure Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? Both stifle a laugh Any mental issues? Not in the non-despair au but Kuro does still have to deal with the trauma of his parents’ murder Who’s terrified of bugs? Neither Who kills the spiders around the house? Neither. They use the cup and paper technique Their favourite place? The park near their house Who pays the bills? it’s a team effort Do they have any fears for their future? Kuro is worried for his family’s safety as both a prosecutor and a necromancer but Hajime is his rock the entire time Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Hajime

Who uses up all of the hot water? Neither Who’s the tallest? Hajime Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Hajime Who wanders around in their underwear? the kids Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Kuro when he think’s he’s alone What do they tease each other about? Hajime’s sensitive hair and Kuro’s workaholicness Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Neither Do they have mutual friends? Each other’s former classmates Who crushed first? Kuro and he crushed bad Any alcohol or substance related problems? I hope not Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? I mean Maybe Kuro? he can’t hold his liquor well Who swears the most?

Hajime

1 note · View note

ironwoman18 · 4 years

Text

The Worst Third Date Ever part 10

Chapter 10: Say what you need to say

He nodded and after they said their goodbyes, he put their presents in the same bag they used for the presents for the family and left holding hands.

He drove her home and when they went up so he could put her presents in there, they started to kiss gently but then the kiss escalated to a heated one.

He placed his hands on her cheeks and her arms were around his neck.

She asked between kisses if he could stay the night. He accepted and after more kisses and touches they ended up in bed having their first time together.

And before they fell asleep they both whispered an 'I love you'.

The next morning Spencer woke up first and opened his eyes sleepy looking down to find Max's head on his chest, sleeping.

He smiled as memories of last night came to his mind. Everything was amazing; the night at her family and her suggestion to stay that night.

He was falling hard for her, and he could say, even without his profile training, she was feeling the same. He could see it in her eyes.

He checked his watch and saw it was still early so he will not wake her up yet. He held her closer to him as he checked a book that was on her nightstand. It was about Art History so he started to check it up.

He started to read it, it was interesting and not his usual type of readings but his books were at his apartment.

When he was half way through the book she started to wake up. He kisses her forehead "hey there, good morning"

She looked up at him "good morning" she rubbed her eyes "what are you reading? And what time is it?"

"An art history book you had on the nightstand and its half past eight" she opened her eyes in shock.

"Wait, you wanted to visit your mother early today. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I didn't want to wake you up sweetheart. I wanted to let you sleep some more also it's still too early to go to the hospital, especially on Christmas day"

She nodded and saw the books page "did you read 300 pages already?"

"Yes"

"When did you started?"

"At eight o'clock" he said like it was the most normal thing to do.

"Did you just read 300 pages in thirty minutes?"

"Yes, I can read twenty thousand words per minutes"

"Oh my..." her jaw dropped at that "I will go take a shower so we can go to your apartment and change your clothes"

"Ok I will get dressed" she nodded and kissed his cheek then stood up and walked to her closet to pick up some clothes and went to the bathroom.

Then Spencer stood up and got dressed up. He did not put on his tie or jacket. He was at the kitchen drinking water and checking his phone when it rang.

He answered it "Buon Natale Spencer" those were David Rossi's first words.

"Buon Natale Dave" he smiled at that "how was your Christmas eve?"

"It was great, Krystall and I enjoyed a nice evening with her daughter and her fiance"

"Did you profiled him?" He asked.

"No, I already did when they were starting to date and he was a nice boy so..." both laughed at that "and how was your night?"

"Amazing, Max and I spent it at her family's. We played board games, poker and dance. It was a pretty normal Christmas"

"Great to know that kid. You needed some normal things in your life. You had been through a lot these years so you deserved that" Spencer smiled.

"Thank you Dave, I'm happy with her and she helps me to get that thing Gideon fought so much to have... that calm place where the memories of our cases disappeared and I can only see her"

"Your cabin in the woods but you know what's the good thing of yours?... it can't be corrupted like his. And you just need a call to go there. That's how Krystall made me feel"

"I wish he could be here though"

"Me too but he will live in our memories and he is happier where he is. Now let's change to a happier conversation"

"Sure what is that?"

"I would like to invite you and Max to come over for dinner, I also invited Matt with his family"

"I would love to but for fully confirmation let me ask her. I don't know if they have another tradition for Christmas day"

"Ok let me know, have a nice day kid"

"I will Dave, see you" they both hung up and he finished the water he was drinking.

Then he sat on a couch and texted JJ while Max finished to get ready.

After some more minutes Max walked out of her bathroom, dressed and with her makeup on.

"Hey, ready to leave?" She asked as she looked at him.

"Yeah I am" he smiled and stood up then walked towards her.

"What did you do while I was taking my shower?"

"I was talking to Dave on the phone and then text JJ to know how was their night" he reached and hugged her "he wanted to invite us for dinner" he looked down at her "do you want to go?"

"I would love to" she smiled up at him "I think it's fair enough to have a night out with your friends"

"There will be just Matt and his family. The other left to see their families"

"Aww ok. I wanted to see them all again. That girl, Garcia, is pretty awesome"

"Yes she is, we had been in the BAU the same time. JJ joined the same year as the press liaison but then she left and returned a few years later as a profiler"

"Wow that's great" she smiled then checked her watch as she had her head on his chest "hey we should go. We still need breakfast and you need to get ready"

"Right... let's go" she pulled slightly away but still closer to him. They both walked to the door, he held the bag with his presents and she held her purse then both walked out of the apartment, then walked to his car and after they both got in he drove to his apartment.

"Maybe while you get ready I can go buy us the breakfast. I'm sure I saw an open coffee shop"

"Sounds great. Theres still the key under the mat so you can use it" he said as they arrived there.

"Ok see you soon" she kissed him and walked out of the car, he smiled and goes up to his apartment, then he got in the shower.

His shower was quicker than hers and by the time he was ready, she arrived.

"I had to walk two blocks to get an open coffee shop, but I made it. I brought coffee and two sandwiches"

"Awesome they look great" they sat at the table and started to eat.

"Spence, how can you still live here after what happened here with Cat?"

"It's ok, I don't mind. I mean it was something bad but I spent most of my day in the office or in a case so this place it's almost for sleeping only"

"If you said so... if something happened in my apartment I would move out"

"It's a normal feeling. Most people prefer to run away from places that reminded them traumatic experiences. So I understand you"

She nodded and ate they remained silent until they finished their food and coffee. Then they walked out of the apartment and headed to the car.

"I'm nervous"

"Why Max?" He asked.

"Cause I want your mom to like me"

"I'm sure she will. She is the kindest woman and she will see how important you are for me" they reached his car and opened the door for her "how much... I love you" he said the last part a little lower but she listened to him "and again I know we said slow but..."

"Spencer, I think that rule was broken since we became an official couple two weeks ago. I have been doing one thing after the other and I'm letting them happen, and also encourage some them because I know that you aren't like Mike. You are decent in some ways that I couldn't dream to be" she rubbed his cheek "I love you too Spencer, so much it should be illegal at this point of our relationship" he laughed and kissed her.

Then she got into the car and he got in too in the driver's seat. He drove as he explained some stuffs about his mother.

When they arrived, both got out of the car and he held her hand and with the other had his mom's gift.

They walked in the hospital and the nurse there greeting him "Dr. Reid, Merry Christmas. How are you?" Then looked at Max "and who is this pretty girl?" Asked the women, she knew the answer but want it from him.

"Merry Christmas Johanna, im great and you? This is Max, my beautiful girlfriend" she blushed a little and Johanna smirked.

"That's so sweet. Your mom is in her room. Wait here so I can check if you can come in now" he nodded and looked as she walked to his mom's room.

"Hope she still have her mind clear. It was a huge surprise, when JJ got shot, remember my dream?" She nodded "well after she woke up the hospital called me to come over and they said they found this treatment that worked for her so she and I had a logical conversation, like when I was younger and she advised me, we play chest"

"And how much will it work?"

"They had no idea" he sighed "that's why I'm trying to find every moment to come over and check her" she squeezed his hand gentle.

"And I'm sure she appreciated every moment with her son" she kissed his hand "so don't worry Spence"

He smiled and hugged her. Johanna walked towards them some minutes later "ok you can walk in" they nodded and walked there.

When they arrived his mother was sitting on her bed and smiled when she saw her son she jumped out of the bed and hugged him "Spencer!"

He hugged her back and rubbed her back "hey mom, Merry Christmas" he kissed her cheek.

"Merry Christmas sweetheart" she then noticed Max "and I guess you are Max, right?"

"Yes, I'm Max Brenner, it's nice to meet you Mrs. Reid" she held up her hand so Diane shaked it.

Diane hugged her "Please call me Diane, and I'm happy to meet you and that you are making my son happy" both smiled "come in and sit here" they both took a sit on the sofa next to the bed and Diane sat on the bed "so how was your Christmas eve?"

"Wonderful. We were at Max's dad's home"

"Great, I'm glad you both spent it together" she smiled and looked at them "and I can tell you two are happy together. His eyes were always full of sorrow and sadness and now I can see happiness"

He blushed slightly and held her hand "yeah she is making me happy and her eyes make me forget about the things I saw"

She blushed this time and squeezed his hand gently.

"You deserve it Spencer" said Diane looking at them "can we talk in private Spencer?"

He looked at Max "sure I will go call my sister Michelle" she kissed his cheek and stood up.

Then walked out the room. Spencer looked at his mother "what did you want to talk about mom?"

"I had this feeling from the moment you both walked in. You know what I always told you..."

"A mother knows" they both said smiling.

"That's right. And this feeling is that you both will get married"

"And what made you have this feeling?"

"Your eyes, your body language"

"Now who is the profiler?" He asked with a smirk.

"I don't need that to know my son. I never saw you this happy in a long, long time. I think the only day I saw you like this was when you made your first magic trick" he laughed "what I'm trying to say is that she is the one so don't mess that up" she smiled and turned to her nightstand and got out a little box and handed it to him.

When he opened he could see a beautiful ring with a little diamond on it.

"It was my engagement ring. Your father gave it to me when we were getting out of the fifteenth century literature lecture. He didn't like it but he was there for me. He asked me in front of the auditorium. Of course I said yes and it was the best day until I had you"

He smiled and had some tears in his eyes "promise me you will wait till the right moment to pop the question. I'm sure you are wise enough to know it"

"We just said we love each other and now you show me this... I'm sure she is the one too but I'm afraid it may happen like what happened to Hotch or Gideon"

"Or could happen like JJ and Will. They are still together and she even had to leave the country" he nodded and looked down "and don't said it's because he is a cop" he sighed looking down "you aren't like them and they aren't like you" she held his hand.

"Thank you mom" he wiped the tears "oh I bought you a present" he handed it to her and hugged her, she opened the bag and smiled at his present.

"Thank you Spencer, it's beautiful" she kissed his cheek and then Max walked in.

"Hey Spence. Want to go to my sister's house? They are making a barbecue"

"Sounds great" he turned to his mother "I will be coming next week"

"Ok son, see you" she kissed his cheek and help him closer to her "I love you"

"I love you too" and then he walked to Max and they both left the hospital to Max's sister's house.

OOooOOooOO

That was all for now. Hope you liked it. In this chapter Spencer spoke about his worries about making a family or even have a relationship with his job and his demons.

#criminal mind #spencer reid #maxine brenner #maxcer #fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

samsm2mstories · 5 years

Text

The Jacobs Labs. (Series)

The Jacobs Labs stories: The Body swap of Sam and Liam.

Please be aware this is a role play that I did with @liamstfstories and I edited it slightly to turn it into a joint story / roleplay style text. Enjoy! PS it’s my first story series I’ve ever written!

Part 1: The upcoming days to the trip to the life change

Main characters:

Sam was a typical British male aged 28 who was into his fitness and was toned but nothing major but the one major perk he had was his 10inch cock which was thick. Sam had a short buzzed dirty blond hair cut which you could relate to an army cut while having green eyes. He would of been a typical hot guy in the eyes of the British. You see Sam had a keen interest in travelling as he recently won a few thousands on the lottery but it wasn’t enough to retire from work. He went on a life changing trip to Australia where he used the money to get a new life started. He happens to meet his future boyfriend called Liam’

Liam is your typical Australian male aged 20, he had a skater style body which he had a six pack that could show through tight tees. He got brown eyes and brown hair which changes time to time as he follows the style trend in his town. You see Liam has this typical boyish personality which tends to make him act younger but you would call him a normal Australian. Full of energy and takes every challenge in a chilled manner. Liam met Sam at the coffee shop that he works for.

Their relationship went from a simple chat to Sam moving into Liam’s apartment within a week and it turns out that Sam with his mature attitude looked after Liam like his son. Sam loved how Liam personality was and always laughing at the silly things he does and say. Liam on the other hand loved Sam due to his large British cock and his smarts. Some reason these two were a perfect match for each other until Liam mentioned about a new company recently moved into Sydney that was based on advanced medical operations.

Jacobs Laboratories was a recently founded company based in Sydney that specialised in medical conditions and Mr Jacobs Williams was the founder. He had a special underground branch that was trialing operations that wasn’t approved by the government but because the company was respected by the city for it’s massive investments it got away with the hidden experiments.

Jacobs had a breakthrough with one it’s new machinery that can prevent any cells undamaged in an operation. This was managed by a breakthrough on a certain liquid that runs along side with human blood cells. Jacob needed to test trial some major operations when one day he went into the coffee shop where Liam works at. Jacobs saw Liam having a crazy conversation with Sam about their bodies and how amazing it is to experience each other from a different view. Jacob was indeed curious by these talks and took out a card with a message and number and left it in Liam’s jacket.

Later on that day Liam picked up the card and saw a message saying:

Dear Liam and Sam, I overheard your conversation earlier and heard you two was in need funds and was interested in exploring a new life. How does this sound? 100k for a successful swap of you two to swap bodies? If interested please call this number.

Liam was so excited by this and straight away he went home to speak to Sam and both of them was interested in this. Sam had a lot of doubts if this was true but decided to call Jacob's up to arrange a meeting in a few days time. Both Liam and Sam was joking about being each other in the upcoming days. Liam was so convinced he was going to have Sam’s body just to have his cock and smarts, he kept on winding Sam up about being the smart big cock guy in the apartment. Sam was thinking over about giving up everything he built up for a fresh start as Liam who not set himself out a career.

The day has finally come for them!

Liam was in bed just waking up after Sam’s phone alarm. Sam was already up in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

Liam got up and put on his white boxers and went into the kitchen to see Sam in some tight blue chino shorts making some smoothies for the day.

I turned around and saw Liam rubbing his eyes as he just woken up.

S: ‘Morning Liam I hope you are ready for today’ *looking at Liam’s golden tanned body knowing that will be me in a few hours

L: ‘Hey dude, I am totally ready to take that body of yours today’ *winking at Sam

S: ‘I made us some breakfast smoothies for today to keep us full, who knows what is going to happen today. *drinking my smoothie and Liam doing the same.

S: What are you going to wear today? *looking at your sexy body knowing that will be mine.

L: ‘uh i'm just wearing a red shirt and some black shorts’

S: ‘Typical you always putting on the clothes from the floor!’ *I put on some shorts, tee, snapback and black vans

L: ‘what now?’ *looking at Sam in a confused way

S: ‘You looking so damn sexy Liam! Sure you don't want to jerk off before we head to the labs?’ *sees Liam still not dealt with his morning wood

S: ‘Might be the last time you jerk that morning wood of yours!’ *chuckles knowing Liam can spew out a big load of cum every morning. Just amazes me that it soon could be me doing that!

L: Well if i did it now, u wouldnt have as great of a time when u take the body?’

S: Yeah true still you never will feel that cock again after we switch bodies!! Plus I be the one spewing that huge wood of yours! *smirks at Liam knowing I could be right on that!

Liam looked at me like he was using his brain cells for once. . .

L: ‘hmmmm’ *Looking at his morning wood giving it a rub

S: ‘I just want to make sure you don't regret it.’ *hoping he doesn’t actually come up with an idea as I want to have that for myself!

Liam smirked at me . . . What has he got to say I wonder??

L: Think u could give me one last blowjob? *smirking even bigger now

I stood there looking at him rubbing his cock knowing I have no option but to give him his final blowjob. I went towards him and gave it a rub and I could feel how bloody horny this guy was!

S: ‘Ok Liam since it the last time you going to experience that crazy wood of yours!’

I go on my knees right there looking up to my new body to be knowing I will be making Liam do this to me so he knows how much this annoys me sometimes.

Liam pulled down his boxers and said ‘Hell yeah!!!!’

I saw this decent sized cock pointing towards as I went to put my hands on it to give it a rub to get it pulsing before it goes into my mouth for a full on session. As I rubbed it, Liam moaned and smirking that he got me to give him his first blowjob in weeks. He was moaning more as I was rubbing his veins. I decided to pull down his foreskin to expose the red pulsing tip of his cock.

Liam was moaning like mad as I was giving him the best ever blowjob he had from me. All I heard was

‘MMMMM’

‘AGHHHHHHH’

‘MMMMMMMM’

L: ‘GODDDDDDD I might actually miss this body’

L ‘But oh well! Guess I still gonna be so good seeing it from the outside!’

He was saying this between his moans as I was sucking it real hard hitting at his prime spots

I was giving Liam the best ever sucking just to fully understand how his or soon to be mine new cock works. I can't believe how thick and big his cock is and how much cum he can spew from it. It tasted amazing with the shower gel he uses in it also. I just carrying on enjoying every moment of this blowjob knowing I soon be this handsome man!

A few minutes later:

I carried on sucking, just to hear Liam moans more and see his body gets all tensed up as he will about to release his loads.

L: ‘MMMM THIS FEELS SO GOOD’

Liam started to thrust his hips forward as he placed his hand on my head. He was thrusting more and more as his hands were on my head and they felt so soft!! I carry on sucking his cock like it's the last day on earth! My tongue touching the spots that sends Liam into a new deeper sexual level!

Suddenly Liam spoke!

L: ‘FUCK IM GONNA CUM!!!!!’

He pushes his hips further forwards as he grabbed my hair as tightly as possible while moaning louder!

L: ‘MMMMMMMMMM HERE IT COMES SAMMMMMMM!’

Within that last second he released many thick loads down my throat as I swallowed every drop of his cum knowing soon he will be tasting that in his mouth later on today!

Liam shouted out FUCK DUDE!!!

Every single drop of this tasty Aussie cum went down my throat. God he must eat or drink some sweet stuff considering that actually tasted really nice. I pull out and lick my lips. Then I looked at him!

S:"Fuck Liam you tasted so delicious like sweet nutmeg! Did you eat some nutty health bars or something today?" *smiling as that did taste really nice!

L: “Haha nah dude i don't eat much nuts at all, I guess I just taste that good normally!” *he sighed as he laid back onto the kitchen side

L: “Dude that was so good! I’m so glad we were able to do this before I leave this body!”

He stood up and pull up his shorts and headed towards the bathroom to clean himself up so he looked presentable for today’s trip and his last outing as himself.

I walked to the kitchen sink to wash my face and take a cold drink to wash the cum down into my stomach. I can't believe how much I just swallowed from him. All that healthy proteins, luckily I had the pleasure of having it and not some other guy! Liam spent a few minutes cleaning himself up in the bathroom.

Liam: I walk back out of the bathroom, grab my shirt, put it on and walk up behind up to Sam whilst he was at the sink. I press my bulge against ur ass as I leaned over u and grab myself some water. I rubbed my still hard cock on purpose and then said

“Lets go to this lab, I think I'm ready to swap”

S: I felt something pressed against my arse and god it was huge knowing it was Liam's after that blowjob. It still must of been really hard. I looked around and smiled when Liam said this but I went in for a last kiss! I turned to feel up Liam's body under his red top rubbing every part of him just to get one last feeling from it as an outsider. I was so lucky to have such a handsome friend like Liam who I cared for so much!.

Liam: *I started to blush and awkwardly smile at him and he continues to feel me up. He really knew how to turn me on even more by doing this!

“alright dude, im sure ur eager to get this stuff as your own, so let's go!”

I leant over Sam and grabbed his car keys

“ill drive today!”

Sam:

*I saw him grabbed the keys and was surprised by this as it was my car.

``you offered to drive for once, that is unbelievable from you Liam!" *laughs away as I put on my vans and grab the paperwork we signed before. I must admit I was feeling a bit nervous inside knowing everything will soon be new to me. Same time I was dead excited!

"Liam make sure you got the right keys!" *knowing he picked up the wrong keys as he always does!

I looked behind knowing soon that apartment will be mine and everything in there will belong to me as I will be coming home as a new man! I chuckled as I waiting to see Liam reaction when he has the wrong keys

Liam:

I was walking towards the car and soon realised that I had the wrong keys.

‘Oops I DID grab the wrong keys!”

I quickly drop them back down and proceeded to grab the right ones “every single time!” I mutted to myself. I laughed as I proceeded to check sam out and relish in the fact that soon i'll have his body!

S: I laughed loudly as Liam walked back towards the car after grabbing the right keys

L: ‘‘alright dude let's get out of here!” I started to walk out the door as sam follows, I turn back around to take in the apartment one last time, knowing I would be back here soon but not as myself*

S: ‘‘I really hope I don't get that key habit of yours! I swear you do it on purpose sometimes just to check yourself in the mirror!" I looked at Liam and smiles nervously knowing that would be a bad habit to have!

"You looking abit nervous today Liam, what bothering you? I happy to talk stuff out first before we go in? I sure you got some questions going around in your mind?" I was holding Liam's hand to reassure him to be truthful. I looked deeply into his eyes waiting for a reply. . .

L: ah I don't really have any worries at all, I think I look nervous because it's just a very big decision, but I made my decision a long time ago didn't i!” looking at Sam in his eyes.

We both started to walk down the path to the car and we hopped in! I looked at Sam when he was strapping himself in.

“Alright let's do this! you excited?”

S: "Wait a minute Liam, you got something bothering you! I know that tone of voice when I hear it." *places my hand to stop you starting the engine up "Come on tell me Liam as I don't us to have any regrets now!"

S: "Is it because I am more on the twink build side of things? *lifts my top up to show you the secret I have been working on. You see Liam I have been building this six pack up for you, it's bloody tough but I am trying to make it easier for you! Remember you soon will be the smart one and be loaded up with my cash!"

L: “dude seriously i have no regrets or worries! it's gonna be so good! im so excited to do this! it's gonna be so fun!” *I pull ur hand off and start the car up* “do u know the address? I just realised I have no idea where im going” *I laugh*

“dude we’re seriously gonna be fine! im sure this experiment will go perfectly and we will live happily in our new bodies!”

S: "I hope you are 110% sure about this as I be so gutted if you did have doubts and I feel them as you!"

"Here give me a second!" *set up the sat nav on your phone. "Can you press your finger on it?" *waits for you to unlock it and I get it sorted for you

"You know I am excited about this swap as we have money to finally buy a bigger apartment and live an easier life! I wonder though what traits we will have as each other! I do not want that key trait of yours!!!" *chuckles away

L: *I grab the phone and unlock it and give it back

“dude this swap is going to be so fun! we’re gonna have a great life from now own! lets do this!”

S: "Fact we going to become each other will be so weird, just remember to take it easy Liam as you will be learning everything over again. No rushing into anything as we don't want to burn our brains!"

"Let's go Liam!"

L: “Alright!” *I start the car up and we start to drive to the labs* God this is going to be so good! I think to myself, ive always wanted to be sam and now it's HAPPENING!!!

S: "God I am going to be talking like an Aussie soon! That's going to be so bloody weird Liam!"

*laughs as I watch you drive!

"This makes a change of you driving for once Liam! You always try and bottle out of driving and get away with it!!"

*I can't actually believe we are on our way to the labs and soon will be living in each other's bodies. I am petrified at the thought of having Liam's little dumb moments but so damn excited about having his body and looks. He is so damn sexy!!!!

L: “well soon i'm gonna be you which means ill be driving way more! so i thought id get used to it now!” *I start to slow down and pull into the car park* *here it goes! in a couple more minutes, I am finally gonna be sam! we are going to swap lives!*

“alright sam, let's do this!”

*I smile at you as i get out of his, soon to be MY car*

S: "Let's go in and get this going Liam! In a few hours we are going to be with each other forever!" *feels a tent in my tight beige chino shorts

L: *I look down at my soon to be dick, smile, and place my hand on it* “someones a bit excited? shall I return the favour?”

Sam and Liam walks into The Jacobs Labs which has been recently refurbished to meet the standard level you see in the cities.

S: *I hold your hand tightly as we walk through the entrance of this newly refurbished skyscraper. As we walked through we saw a large white room with the polished white floor tiles that you could slightly see your reflection. The reception room had a very small humming tune playing in the background.

"Really Liam, I swear your are dumb as fuck sometimes" *chuckles

"Fuck I might have that trait also" *looks at you and does a dumb face!

*we walk towards the receptionist and she greeted us.

L: * she seemed nice and started to talk us through the procedure, I started to feel my dick get hard again! God, I think to myself, I better leave that to sam when he wakes up as me! he’d love that’*

Receptionist stands as (R)

R: Good Morning Liam and Sam. We were expecting you a little later but as it's quiet shall we start by checking your paperwork from the pre-agreement and your passports as idenity and protection reasons?

S: *I talk first*

"Good morning Kelly, thanks for the warm welcome and here are the paperwork and our passports" *looks at Liam who has the folder with him

R: "That a strong British accent you got there Sam?" *she blushes when she says that

L: “oh right! yes i have those!” *I quickly reach down and grab the folder out of my bag* “here it is kelly!” *I hand her the folder*

“I hope this is all u need!”

“sam and I are very excited for this experiment and hope that everything goes well”

R: "Hey Liam!!! You seem really excited today and must I say you looking really good today!" *checks everything over and makes a call. "Doctor Jacobs will be waiting for you two. Take this tablet as it will lead you through the building and give you access to the lifts. Oh please be careful and good luck with the protein experiment. I hope those powders will become a huge hit on you two!"

S: "Thanks for that Kelly, I hope the protein shakes will give me more muscles! Liam shall we proceed to meeting Doctor Jacobs?"

*looks at you and hope you don't mention about the swapping*

L: *I take the tablet from her hands and thank her* “haha SAM u have plenty of muscles!” “but yup let's go meet this doctor!”

*i look down at the tablet and start following its directions* “come on!”

S: "Liam you nearly slipped up buddy! I can't believe this is happening!" *smiles

*As I walked along, I could sense the excitement between us about this swapping experience or procedure. Same time I qas praying to God that nothing will happen. We was walking down a corridor and it was like the reception with it blossomed while tiles. I looked at Liam and smiled. "Not long left now Liam!"

*I knew that will cause Liam's cock to tent in his black sporty shorts*

*we were only steps away from reaching Dr Jacobs offices.*

L: “Dude this is gonna be so cool!” I say excitedly as I look at you. *I notice u looking down at my dick and I smile* “this will be yours in a second!” I say as I patted my dick

S: "Yeah I know Liam, it's going to be an interesting moment!" *grabs your cock and squeezes it*

"How much longer Liam" *looking at the tablet

L: *I look down at the tablet, stop walking and smile at you* “alright! here we are sam! lets do this!” *I grab the door handle and smile at you before pushing it open*

*I gesture for u to enter the roomfirst*

S: *Knocks on the door and Dr Jacobs welcomes us

Doctor Jacobs stands as (DR)

DR: Ahhhh you both arrived! Pleased to meet you both! *offers his hand to Liam first

L: *I shake enthusiastically* “good to meet u too!*

DR: "So Liam you ready to become your best friend Sam here?"

*I shakes Sam's hand also*

S: "Nice to meet you Mr Jacobs and I think we are both ready to talk about the surgery and deal we have in place.

"I am nervous about the surgery as this is going to unknown to us both."

DR: "please both of you sit down so we can go over the formalities." *offers us two chairs at his desk

*we both go over and sit down in the chairs* L: “alright, so what's gonna happen here?” I ask as I hand over the tablet and our documents with our credentials

“how long will this take etc?”

DR: "The operation machinery is all ready to go and the surgery will take a few hours but you won't feel a thing. Our technology is that advanced that there will be no scarring at all but due to the nature of the stress of the transfer that this will be a one way transfer. If this all is successful you will have your money deposited and be allowed to live your new life, remember when you sign these paperwork nobody will ever know about this experiment.

DR: Here is three pieces of contracts you must sign each. *passes them to us

S: "Are you ready for this Liam?" *gives you the pen first*

L: “alright let's do this!” I say excitedly as i grab the pen from ur hands

*I quickly sign off the paper and pass it over to u*

“alright im all done and ready, what now?”

S: "Ohhh here it goes!" *signs the paperwork

DR: "Great please come with me to the two rooms!" *shows us two doors with our names on them but the rooms are connected to the main operation room

S: *Looks at Liam and hugs him tightly*

L: “alright Dr!” *I stand up out of the chair and walk over to my door*

S: "I hope to see you soon brother, if anything happens just remember that I am so thankful and loved every moment we had!"

*cuddles you more*

L: “dude stop we’ll totally be fine! don't even worry!” I say as I pat u on the back “this is gonna be totally fine! let's do this!”

S: "Let's do this!!!"

*opens my door to see a bed and a chair*

DR: please take off your clothes

L: “oh boy okay!”

While in the other room Sam just entered.

S: ‘’Knowing Liam he will just strip off and leave his clothes on the floor screwed up*

*I fold my clothes and possessions neatly

In the other room which DR Jacobs and Liam are in.

*I started to strip of my clothes, I pull of my red t-shirt, slipping down my black shorts, pull of my socks and shoes and throw them all to the corner of the room* “let's do this!” I say as I shake my hips teasingly

*goes onto my bed and lays down

Doctor Jacobs proceeds to the other room to see Sam waiting on the bed and deals with him first.

DR: breath this gas in slowly Sam *places the gas over my mouth and I fall asleep

Doctor Jacobs finishes the first part of the swap on Sam and he goes back to the other room to see Liam.

DR: "Liam please stop touching your penis and lay on the bed, Sam going to be so aroused by your typical Australian personality and traits"

L: *I sigh loudly and go lay down on the bed. the doctor comes over and puts the gas mask over my mouth as well. I fell asleep.

Sam and Liam have both fallen asleep now and we soon see what happens in Part 2 which is coming soon.

132 notes · View notes