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#and eventually decided i wanted to know who made it and maybe listen to more stuff by them
chilschuck · 3 days
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woahhhh you should totally write about chilchuck dealing with a reader whos obsessed with bugs and keeps annoying him with them ahahaaaa twirls my hair
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ HERE IT IS. FINALLY. i know you wanted me to reply to the other ask for this but i thought having this one would make more sense. happy i could finally get this out for you!!
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— CHILCHUCK: x gn!reader who likes bugs hcs.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ ment of bugs & insects!! reader is really into entomology. sfw + sweet n’ fluffy!
꒰ wc: ꒱ 575
✦ sorry this isn’t super long, i’m in the middle of finals week so i’m struggling creatively rn. :”))) i can write more for you after this is over fr!!
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✦ You decided to venture down to the beginning levels of the dungeon for one reason only: entomology research. The dungeon, rich with all kinds of monsters, had attracted you to its depths for a chance to discover more than you could just on the surface.
✦ Meeting Chilchuck was an added perk. Coming across Laios’ party at the upper levels was the best thing that could’ve happened to you at that moment. Now you had a party to explore with, and even a half-foot to aggravate.
✦ And oh, how easy it was to irritate him. You’d scoop up anything that you’d find and immediately show it off to him. At first, he’d give you an unamused look and tell you to cut it out, afraid just what you’d picked up this time.
✦ Except when you started telling him about it. You’d find a treasure insect or point out a cleaner at work, giving him all the facts you knew. Occasionally he’d actually listen to you talk, finding it almost… relaxing?
✦ It wasn’t that he was completely uninterested, but you had started to grow on him the more you shared what you knew. Hearing you speak about the insects you have on the surface and how you cared for them definitely made him curious. He never knew so much time and dedication went into stuff like that.
“Look at this one, Chilchuck!” In your hand was an insect you had come across on the floor your party decided to rest on. With excited eyes, you began pointing out all the parts, their functions, and even what purpose they served in the dungeon.
For some reason, Chilchuck found that sparkle in your eye when you chattered away to be… endearing, almost. He couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth tug into a smile, encouraging you to keep going. After all, this was what you were passionate about. Unlike Laios’ obsession with monsters, your knowledge didn’t make you seem sick in the head; it made you unique.
✦ Chilchuck soon would find himself pointing things out to you and asking questions of his own. Maybe about what that particular insect was, what it did, maybe if it was rare or not. And more than happily, you answered him in kind.
✦ Even if you drove him crazy sometimes with shoving something in his face, he found that your presence was comforting. Having someone else here besides Laios (or even Senshi) that knew about some of the dungeon’s creatures was nice. You two would even entertain each other by sharing things you knew about insects on the surface or in the dungeon. (Not that he knew much...)
✦ Sometimes he’d even have you talk to him at night while the rest of the party got ready for bed. It wasn’t that your words put him to sleep, it was more that your voice had begun to bring him comfort. Chilchuck could feel his eyes growing heavy when you told him about some of the insects you liked on the surface, and soon enough you had managed to lull him to sleep with just the sound of your voice.
✦ Eventually you’d probably be able to get him to actually hold something. Maybe he’d see that look in your eyes again and swallow down his pride, holding out his hands to whatever you found this time. That happy look on your face made it all worth it.
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ambreiiigns · 1 year
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just spent a good 20 minutes crying my eyes out over so far away by avenged sevenfold i have regressed to when i was 13 and extremely attached to this band
#i'm still extremely attached to them and forever will be#i grew up w rock & metal & shit bc my parents were cool but a7x was the first band i found by myself yk. like. it wasn't passed down to me#like my mom passed me nirvana & queen & bowie my dad passed me metallica & pink floyd & dire straits#my beloved uncle passed me iron maiden &. also nirvana & rancid#guns n roses was handed my collectively by all three#in short. avenged sevenfold was home grown. yk. they were my own thing#my first thing that Really got me into metal & the likes#the first time i had my Own tastes & preferences#and i was hyperfixated REAL bad for like maybe close to two years it was sooo intense i loved them sooo much#i still do!! i will still call them my faves!!! idc!! they're so special to me#i remember i found welcome to the family in a like. creepypasta mva or smth. funny that all the first few bands i liked i found thru#some creepypasta bullshit on youtube or smth. mcr fob AND p!atd i all got from creepypasta for Sure#anyway. embarassing. but i was obsessed w welcome to the family for a while#and eventually decided i wanted to know who made it and maybe listen to more stuff by them#and it was my mom's bday so august 16th when i went on their wikipedia page read the Whole thing and before i even knew much abt them or#their music or whatever i was crying so hard over the section talking abt the rev's death like i knew him personally#and i feel like that was the sign. the bad omen. that i would be down bad from then on#and i was down bad#and i listened to all their songs. i watched all the shows. i knew every piece of footage that existed of them by heart#and you have to understand by that point the only other thing i had been as obsessed with were hp & lotr#so it was still Fucky to me. to be into something that intensely#in short a7x truly fucking shaped me as a person fr and i will be thankful & fond of them forever and i avoid so far away like the plague#bc i know it gets to me. it really does#bc they were friends since they were like 10yo idiot kids yk before there was ever a band involved#and as someone who's had p much the same friend group since kindergarten#just THINKING abt losing a friend i've had for so long fucking kills me. and i can't imagine how bad it had to be for them#it's a very. empath moment of me ik ik but i can't stand it it gets to me really bad#oh nay
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foone · 1 year
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Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:
We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.
Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.
We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!
We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.
And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.
If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:
What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?
What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?
What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?
All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.
Because this is an asymmetric problem:
If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.
If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!
You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.
And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.
The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.
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Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.
If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.
If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.
This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".
But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).
So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).
But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.
Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.
We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.
My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"
Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"
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kombuuuu · 10 months
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Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?
It Sounds Nice coming from You.
Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader
“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
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kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)
People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.
But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.
The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.
You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.
There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.
So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.
Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.
Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.
Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.
The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.
The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.
He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.
Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.
Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.
It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.
“She’s silent, ain’t she?”
“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”
“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”
“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”
The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.
“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“
“Cut it, mate.”
He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.
“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”
“No.”
“Mm.”
Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”
“Jesus..”
He felt rather accomplished that day.
It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.
Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.
Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.
He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.
immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(
I’m patient 🦑
u werent 2 seconds ago
I don’t subscribe to consistency.
Or this slandering talk
ur consistently lame
also why squid
I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute
hes not real
Don’t do this me
reeeeeal tasty tho
What is wrong with you.
numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)
Inhumane.
mmmmmm yummyyyy
He can’t die, he’s immortal
The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.
“Hey, Hobie!”
Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.
He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.
“Pav, my guy!”
Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.
“What’chu doing up there?”
His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.
Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”
Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.
“Textin’ [Name].”
Just then, the next message from you showed.
immortal ??? how consistent of him to live
He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.
He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything
ihu
terrivle joke
No, you don’t
And it was great
wtvr >:P
Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.
“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.
“They do argue very often.”
“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”
Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.
They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.
He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.
“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”
Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.
“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”
“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”
“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.
“What does mini-punk even mean!”
“Not exactly, Pavitr.”
Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.
The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.
“Huh?”
“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.
“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”
Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.
Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.
“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.
Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.
“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”
A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.
“Wha’ ‘bout it?”
His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.
“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”
Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.
“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”
The punk quirked a brow.
“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.
“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.
“Exactly, it’s not.”
Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.
“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”
Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.
“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.
“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”
“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”
“Gwen, it’s not like that.”
“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”
“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.
“No— well, not unless—,”
“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.
“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“
They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.
“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.
The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.
“You agreed to this?”
lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”
He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.
“Now, you know that’s not tr—“
His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.
“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”
He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.
“I really didn’t mean to agree.”
Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”
And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.
You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.
How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.
You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.
And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.
Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?
Because you love him, you guess.
His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.
His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.
“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”
“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”
“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”
Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.
Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.
“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.
“This—, This asshole!”
“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.
Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”
“Not kicked.”
“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”
Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”
“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”
“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”
“Gwendolyne.”
“All of you, stop.”
Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”
“Since when did you have a say—“
“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”
“She’s an adult.”
“When it’s convenient to you.”
Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.
“She doesn’t talk to people.”
“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.
“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.
“Not that I’ve seen.”
Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”
“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.
“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.
“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Oops too late, portals open.”
“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.
“Yeah..”
“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.
“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”
The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.
He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.
You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.
Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.
Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.
“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.
“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”
Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.
“I totally called it.”
“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.
“Oh my god, I love this movie!”
“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.
Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.
“The horse.”
“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.
Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”
You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.
He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.
The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.
Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.
“You doin’ right, babe?”
“Yeah, Hobes.”
You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”
“We’re in bed, dummy.”
He shot you a playful look.
“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”
You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.
A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.
“Sleep, sweethear’.”
“Mhmmph.”
Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.
No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.
BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️
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sourbinnie · 11 months
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☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆
♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!
maknae line
a/n: first reaction ¡! i decided i would go with the "compares you" part. hope i did it well for yall and to the person who requested it, thank u!!! i'll publish maknae line whenever i'm free:]
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chan ✉
arguments could get pretty heated with chan sometimes (he's a libra at the end of the day). it could get stressful since you've been going back & forth for so long now, as you tried to make him understand that he wasn't taking care of himself but it only brought back hurtful words that you were letting it pass under the excuse that he was "too tired". maybe you were too naive at that moment thinking that he would calm down and you guys would solve it like you always do.
then you heard it, he didn't say their name but you could only imagine who he was talking about at that point and time. 
"they would just leave me alone and let me be, why can't you do the same? ah right you're not them and you will never be." he said and horror washed him instantly as they realized what they did. fights were inevitable but you can always keep comments to yourself right? it was just the heat of the moment that made him slip out such cruel words. as soon as you were turning away to leave, he was trying to find his way to you but it was too late anyways. "baby nono, don't leave not right now, it's late and i was fucking stupid. i'm so fucking sorry-."
"i just need some space right now, yeah? i need to be away from you." you said and that only made him worry even more as that's the last thing he wanted right now. "just let me christopher, we'll talk when i get back." 
"don't call me that, i'm still your channie, your boyfriend and i still fucking love you. listen i'm sorry but please don't go." he said close to the tears falling from his eyes and you just shook your head as you grabbed your things and he followed you around the house like a lost puppy. "(y/n) let's work this out yeah? i'll go to the dorms tonight and you'll stay here."
eventually knowing he wouldn't give up, you just nodded as you went to your shared bedroom and sighed. letting the tears finally from your eyes and hearing the door close was enough to let your sobs out from how much those words stung in your heart.
minho ✉ 
fighting with minho wasn't easy. his witty responses and his hurtful comments always stood out like daggers in your heart. he usually didn't fight at all but when he did, most of the time he took it too far and it wasn't easy to forget what he said. as the new comeback approached, you tried your best to be supportive but when you couldn't see them on their first win, it hurt minho. he wanted you to be there, backstage or in the crowd cheering for them but he did not see you anywhere. turns out you were too late, had a "work" emergency, he called bullshit on that.
"i'm sorry min, i'll promise i'll be on the next one. my boss really needed me and-." he cut you off immediately, not wanting to hear it.
"it's fine. it's not like they would miss out on this like you did. maybe i should just get back with them." he muttered and it was enough for you to walk away from him. all the boys were there to talk to him about what just happened and why were you crying but he was completely petrified from your reaction and how you just went away without a word. "god i'm such a fucking idiot." he said as he chased after you through the hallways.
"don't even try talking to me. i get that you're fucking mad but that doesn't give you an excuse to say stuff like that." you said as you still walked away and didn't even look in his direction. minho tried to process what was happening all at once but couldn't bare to see the look in your eyes as the tears were still going down your face.
"please listen to me for a second. it was stupid that i got mad, i should've understood you from the beginning but please stay and i'll make it up to you. i promise." he said and even if it did sound sincere, you just couldn't do it.
"i'm sorry, i think i wanna be alone tonight." you said as you looked at him one last time and kissed his cheek before muttering "goodbye minho" and walking through the door. leaving a distraught and regretful minho behind.
changbin ✉ 
it wasn't rare for you to fight with changbin, what was rare was when he got mad. this time when you were at the studio, making sure 3racha were feeling well and not overworking themselves, you were met with a furious bin. it surprised you, you've never seen him mad and maybe something else was happening that you didn't know or you chose the worst time to visit the studio. whatever it was, it made you feel so small and like you were in a place you did not belong. jisung and chan weren't even there to witness it but you guessed that as soon as they heard, they left you guys alone.
"look i'm sorry. i don't know what i did wrong but that doesn't excuse your attitude and how you're treating me right now!" you said but it wasn't enough to his ears as he gave you the next words.
"god i can never say anything, at least with them they would let me express myself. i should've never broken up with them if i knew i was gonna end up with you." ouch was all that could be said about that as you nodded and felt the water in your eyes grow slowly. "shit- i'm so fucking sorry, i don't know what came over me baby."
he tried to get close to you but you just took a step back and that broke changbin's heart completely. it made him feel like a monster in front of you but he couldn't blame you for that, it was all his fault in the end. when he saw you walk away, as much as he wanted to, he decided not to follow you and let you go. he couldn't describe what he was feeling when he saw you practically run away from the building and not answer for jisung's calls since he was just walking in with chan. 
"what the fuck happened hyung?" jisung asked as he crossed his arms and that's when changbin lost the control of his tears. he wasn't one to usually cry but he was now gonna be haunted with muttering those words to you and what he made you feel in that moment.
"i fucked it up like i always do." he said brokenly.
hyunjin ✉
as much as you loved hyunjin, he got so petty in fights it was irritating. he was the definition of drama queen and he could fight on & on about the tiniest of details. like right now when you just got home and you forgot to do some things in your shared apartment. tiny things like the dishes or the laundry usually didn't piss him off but today when he got home practice and saw, in his words, that the whole house was upside down, he got stressed. 
"look i'm sorry, i forgot to do it and i know you've been busy with practice. i'll do it tomorrow since i get to go home earlier." you tried to explain but he just shook his head and crossed his arms.
"tomorrow? are you serious? they would've done it right here and now and wouldn't be putting up excuses like you're doing." he didn't even have to mention them for you to know who he was talking about. it felt like twisting the knife on the wound as you just looked at him with the most hurtful stare.
"of course they would. they didn't have a job in the first place and relied on you for everything!" you said and laughed bitterly but in a sad way. "if it's my job then it's a problem but with your job there's literally no excuse right? 'cause it's more important. grow up hyunjin." 
"look babe i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i was thinking when i said that." he tried to make up an excuse at the moment but he knew nothing would justify what he said and implied with his words. it was met with a sigh from you and it was your turn to shake your head. "i don't think your job is less important and i shouldn't have said what i said-."
"but you said it." you whispered and decided to head to your shared bedroom to lock the door. you needed some time alone not only because of the harsh words but because it made you process your whole relationship in a flashback. 
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slasherbvnnie · 1 year
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Until We Found You
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Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!
Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+
You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.
It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.
That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.
“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.
“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.
After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.
You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.
You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.
“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.
The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.
You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.
Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.
You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 
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lizthewriter · 6 months
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i'm right here / billy loomis
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PAIRING  fem!reader x billy loomis
SUMMARY  you and billy had been dating for quite a while now. you had always been so dependent on him, so clingy, so needy, and you were starting to realize that maybe he didn't like you nearly as much as you thought he did. when you stop calling him and ignore him completely, he's not just angry, but he comes to the realization that he doesn't know who he'd be without you. he's lonely and he needs you just as much, if not more, than you need him.
TAGS  fem!reader x billy loomis, angst, fluff, if you squint, sexual tension, smut, only on the clothes stuff, billy wouldn't dare break my underwear rule, teasing, making out,, desperate men >>>, deranged men >>>>>, billy is a lil' toxic, just a lil' bit, cursing, slight stalking (come on, we're talking about ghostface here, get with the program)
QUOTE  "i'm calling you, pick up your phone . . . well i don't give a fuck about your friends, / i'm right here, here / well baby talk a look around, / i'm the only one that hasn't walked out, / i'm right here," - right here by chase atlantic
WORD COUNT  2.1K
WRITTEN  10.25.2023
A/N this is my first smut 😭😭😭😭 also i watched scream for the first time and if billy and stu weren't murderers ... omg 😭😭😭 anyways, i will get up another fic on sunday and one next wednesday ... PLS SEND REQUESTS FOR BILLY AND STU 😭😭😭😭
You once again hung up the phone in a huff - Billy has tried calling you for the fourth time that evening. You would have let the phone ring if the sound of it didn't set you off.
You tossed the clunky phone back onto the other end of the couch and settled onto the cushions with a relieved sigh. Finally, some time for yourself - you had been swamped with so much work recently, it was nice to finally take a moment to relax. You flicked on the television, channel surfing before the phone went off again. You groaned and picked up the phone, pressing the decline button before setting it back down. You let out an incredulous laugh at the irony of the situation. You were ignoring Billy because he barely spent any of his time with you and didn't seem to be putting anywhere near as much effort into your relationship as you were. You were so tired of being taken advantage of and eventually being walked out on by friends and family that you finally, for once, walked out on someone else first. But now, now that you've broken things up with him, he seemed interested in you.
"Asshat," you mumbled under your breath, finally settling on a channel playing some mildly entertaining thriller that was gripping enough to keep you interested, but not so much so that you were discerning and questioning every detail. You laid back down on the couch, head lolling to the side as you space out and got lost in your own thoughts. The one thing that startled you from your own head was the sound of the phone ringing once again.
More than irritated, you grabbed the phone and finally answered, shoving the clunk of plastic next to your ear. "Listen here Billy, I told you once and I don't want to say it again, I'm. Done -"
The voice at the end of the line spoke only your name in greeting, but it soundly oddly gruff and robotic. Not Billy's voice, which made you pause in hesitation. "Yes, that's me . . . what do you want?"
"I always thought The Sixth Sense was a sort of underrated masterpiece."
You launched up from the couch, fear settling into your gut as you glanced out the back patio doors outside. "What kind of prank is this? Stu, are you fucking with me again? Because I swear -"
"It's not Stu, sweetheart. Guess again."
You paused. It was a long shot. But why would he change his voice? You decided to play a little game of your own. "You know what I'm watching, so you must be somewhere outside, in the backyard, right?" You got up from the couch and stared out at the backyard, but no one was there. "Who is this? Randy? Bobby? Which ass decided to piss me off today -"
"I did." The voice, unexpectedly, came from behind you. You jumped at the sound and turned around to face Billy, who was holding up a portable phone. He hung up, tucking away whatever kind of voice modulator he'd been using, and took a step towards you. In return, you took a step back, placing your house phone on a nearby surface.
"What are you doing in my house, Billy? I'm having friends over soon, you can't be here."
"I came over to apologize."
"You?" You asked him incredulously. "Apologize? That's rich. I didn't know the word 'apologize' was even in your vocabulary."
Billy offered you a grimaced smile and took another step forward. "I really mean it this time, all right?"
"Oh sure, yeah, and I'm the Queen of England," you retorted with a roll of your eyes. You glanced at the clock and decided it would be best to prepare snacks now, before your friends got here. You began to walk past him, in the direction of the kitchen. "Go home, Billy, I'm done with you and your indifference."
Before you even took another step away from him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. He stared down at you, hunger, desperation, adoration in his eyes. You couldn't help but soften as you stared up at his face - even if you were doing this for yourself, you couldn't help but miss him. And fuck, was he the most beautiful bastard you've ever seen.
He ran his index finger along your cheek, his head bowed as his eyes trailed all across your face. "I didn't appreciate you like I should have . . . I realize that now. I guess it's true. You don't know how good something is until it leaves." He bowed his head closer and closer to you, and you couldn't help but feel yourself weaken. As though you hsd fallen prey to his seduction spell. You had to admit, it was easier to ignore his calls then to ignore his prescene, that sultry voice and those beckoning lips, the brown strands that you wanted to tug on oh so badly. "Give me one more chance. I'll prove it to you that I can be better . . . " And he said the one word you've never heard leave his mouth ever. His voice came out as soft as a whisper, as hot as the fiery gates of hell on your mouth. "Please. I need you."
Your breathes came out hot and heavy - you wanted him bad, so bad. But you knew you shouldn't. You always followed the same toxic, hurtful patterns. You needed to let go of the people that hurt you, but God you couldn't let him go. You tried to find an excuse.
"Billy, my friends are going to be here in ten minutes." Your voice came out much weaker, less assured then intended.
"I could give a flying fuck about your friends. They don't treat you right, no better than I did. Yet here you sit, cleaning the house, buying food and renting movies, all for people who could care less. If you're going to give someone a second chance, let it be me." He held up your hand, pressing gently kisses along the edge of it. His eyes met yours again, dark and lustful, filled with meaning. You just couldn't help yourself - you knew you'd regret this, but honestly . . . you didn't care anymore.
You finally grabbed the back of his head and pushed him down to meet your lips, hands tangling in those chocolate locks of his. His mouth tasted like pennies and cigarettes, apricot and clove. He was far from being shy, he equally reciprocated your actions if not overcompensated and pressed back into you hungrily. He was slightly rough with you, never enough to hurt you, only rile you up. He pushed you back towards the couch, your knees buckling as they met the cushions, forcing you to sit yourself down on the couch. His eyes roamed your body and he gestured towards your shirt.
You leaned up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to your level. "No. I'm tired of initiating. If you want me, come get me." You released his shirt, sitting back on the couch with crossed arms and watching his next movements.
His eyes widened in slight shock. You had never been one to take the lead and boss him around, but now that you had, he found it incredibly arousing. And he also felt he owed it to you to give you whatever you wanted. After all, he'd been a terrible boyfriend and if he was truly being honest, you deserved better. But that selfish, possessive side to him couldn't let you go, craved you like a starved man.
He pulled off his shirt, revealing the chiseled chest beneath. He wasn't paticularly buff, but he was certainly well built and plenty aesthetically pleasing. He bent down, latching his lips back onto yours. He allowed your hands to roam over his bare torso, smirking slightly at the groan that left your lips. His hands gradually slipped under your shirt, pulling it overhead and revealing the lacy bra beneath. As strong as he was, he was easily able to shift your position so you were laying along the length of the couch. He crawled on top of you, one hand laying atop your breast, the other being used as a crutch to keep him balanced. His lips returned to yours, wet and burning with passion, running along yours smoothly. His other hand slipped down to your waist, tightening around it as his tounge poked through your lips and into your mouth. You couldn't help the soft moan that left your mouth, hips rolling up to meet his. You jolted as you were met with something hardened, a shiver running down your spine.
"Billy . . ." You whined, eyes pleading with him to stop being so painstakingly slow. You wanted him and you wanted him now. "Please. I missed you . . . need you."
"S'okay baby," he responded, lips now meeting the skin of your neck. You missed the feeling of his nose brushing against your skin with every kiss, his roaming hands exploring every inch of your body, those glances from.his darkened eyes that almost unsettled you. "I'll take care of it, I promise."
He rolled his hips up into yours, causing a moan to spill out of your mouth. You had wrapped your arms around his back, hands digging into his shoulder blades. "Missed your pretty little moans, baby." He lifted his head away from your neck, hand running through your hair as he looked down at you. "Promise I'll be better, hm? You'd like that?"
He rolled his hips up again with a smirk and you shut your eyes tight, only able to respond with a high-pitched "mhm!"
"You're - such a tease," you gasped, opening your eyes again, a faint blush spreading over your cheeks.
"I thought you liked when I teased you, pretty girl." You hated the smug smirk painted across his cheeks, but the thing you hated the most was that he was right. You loved the teasing, the degradation, the humiliation, the praise. He knew just how to get you hot and bothered, so much so that you couldn't help but snap at him. You know he did those kinds of things on purpose just you'd give him an attitude and he'd get to punish you. But if you were being honest . . . it turned you on.
"Just - please."
"Please what?" He asked with innocent eyes, rolling his hips up harder but keeping the bulge in his jeans pressed against you this time.
You groaned loudly, clawing at his back. "Not - not fair."
"What's not fair? This?" He rolled his hips upwards against, drawing another moan from your lips.
"N-no, stop -"
He let out a mock sigh of disappointment and began to draw away. "All right, I'll stop, if that's what you really want."
"No!" You exclaimed loudly, grabbing his hand and pulling him back towards you. "Don't leave . . . please."
You wanted to smack that stupid little grin off of his face, but then he dropped his knee between your thighs and the words you had wanted to speak suddenly left your lips. He glanced down at your pajama pants, toying with the waistband teasingly.
"Say the words then."
"What?" You responded with furrowed brows.
"Say, 'Billy, I want you to fuck me.'" His eyes bore into yours - the sweet chocolate now turned to charcoal black. He loved the effect he had on you, he loved messing around with you. Especially when you got all flustered and embaressed like this. "Come on, say it. I know you can, sweetheart."
You paused. "Billy, I -"
The doorbell rang, followed by the sounds of giggles. Your friends all shouted your name and dissolved into another bought of laughter. You glanced back towards Billy, torn about what to do.
He pulled away with a gentle sigh, planting a final kiss to your forehead. "We'll pick this up another time, yeah?" Desperate sex with Billy was always good, at least, you thought.
You held onto his hand for a few more seconss before it slipped away as he walked backwards towards the stairs. He must have crawled inside your bedroom window like he usually does. "Okay. I'll call you in the morning?"
He grinned. "Sounds good, sweetheart. I'll pick you up, too."
The doorbell rang thrice more, your friends yeling at you to come answer the door. Billy grinned and departed up the stairs, but not before grabbing his shirt on the way out. You picked up your own shirt from where it had been discarded on the floor and pulled it on as you approached the front door.
Your friends greeted you enthusiastically as they entered your house and while they were all excitedly chattering about the movies you selected, you could only think of Billy, stupid, seductive Billy.
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luveline · 2 months
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hi jade! may I request about spidergirl and miguel? I missed them so much. maybe that she never experience valentine's? and she didn't expect miguel to do anything since he doesnt seems like the type of romantic guy. BUTTT i dunno I just missed them dearly :(((
ty for requesting !! —miguel surprises his forgetful spidergirl!reader with a small gesture of his affection on Valentine’s Day.
“Like, purpose,” you say, running your fingers over the plush carpeting beneath you. “You have a divine purpose, and I’m your girlfriend.”
“I can’t hear you.” 
You raise your face. You can’t see Miguel, his body blocked by the white of the bed sheets in the way. “I’m just whining.” 
“Come and whine over here, where I can hear you.” 
You like his voice, so you listen. Not because he’s said it very kindly; he’s too bossy. You also like bossy, but that’s not the point. He shouldn’t always get what he wants.
“Do you not like being my girlfriend?” he asks conversationally, his broad back to you as he shakes the frying pan. He’s frying onion and potato for a tortilla española, a thick Spanish omelette made with ample oil. It’s your favourite of his many dishes, your mouth watering as you stand there. 
“It’s fine.” 
He reaches back for you and grabs at you blindly, though having a spider sense means he’s coordinated regardless. You slide under his arm, can’t believe you’re there —a few months ago he’d glare at you whenever you smiled at him, and now he’s holding you, pressing a slight of a kiss to your temple without a second thought. Though you’re sure now he’d been glaring because he was agitated to have a crush on, back then you’d thought he didn’t like you, which wasn’t half as fun. 
Still, you clocked on eventually. People who don’t like someone don’t usually spend so long looking at said someone’s lips. 
“Fine isn’t ideal.”
“You’re too clingy,” you say as you curl your arms around him. 
“I know,” he murmurs into your skin. “What do you want to drink this morning, mi hermosa?”
You can’t decide. Miguel makes you a tall glass of water, a similar orange juice, and a frankly audacious cup of hot chocolate. It’s thick enough to cling to your spoon as you stir it. 
“Alright,” you say as he puts your breakfast plate in front of you, “what did you do? You haven’t been this nice to me in ages.”
“Is that true?” he asks. 
He was sort of nice yesterday when he fixed your phone (though you're suspicious he’d only fixed it so you wouldn’t ask one of your Peters), and the night before he’d been angelic, but that was mutually beneficial. You still as he wraps his arms around you from behind, his face pressed to the side of yours, his lips a kind line. You close your eyes and lean back.
A softness touches your other cheek. You peek at it through a squint, tentative, less so when you realise the softness is the petal of a red rose, and the rose belongs to a beautiful bouquet. You breathe out a gasp of awe. The flowers are a stunning dark red and wrapped in glitzy holographic cellophane. You’ve never seen flowers that looked so pretty, petal edges thick and stems a fresh green. 
“For you,” he says. 
“For me?”
“Mm-hm.” He eases the bouquet into one of your hands. “Happy Valentine’s.” 
“Is that today?” 
“Yeah, that’s today.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. 
You fluster as he stands tall and moves away. Bouquet hugged to your chest, you turn your head to watch his movements carefully. “Miguel, I’m sorry.” 
“I’m not, carino.” 
He pushes the sleeves of his shirt up and grabs the two bowls left behind on the counter. You can smell the refreshing spice of the peppery gazpacho and the lemon of the salad as he lays it out in front of you. Your stomach growls, but there are more important things to address. 
“I had no idea–”
“I hardly expect you to know what hour of the day it is, I wasn’t expecting anything.” He sits down in the chair beside yours at the table. 
“So it’s February… interesting.” 
Miguel actually laughs as you shove the flowers down and throw yourself at him. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he scolds. 
“I love your laugh,” you say, clinging to him for dear life. “I love you, I love your face, I can’t believe you got me flowers, Miguel. Miguel–” 
“Don’t act like I never get you anything.” 
I just didn’t think you’d do something this romantic, you think. It’s not fair to him. You still have the pencil sharpener he made for you when you’d haunt the workshop unbidden to him. What had he said? Something like Bring it to me when it needs charging. Well, you never remember, and yet it’s never dead. He’s that sort of romantic. “Thank you,” you say. 
“Were you still of the idea that I don’t like you very much?” he asks, pulling you into his lap with an unblinking strength. His thighs are solid underneath you. 
“Oh, no, O’Hara, you like me too much.” 
“Really?” He laughs. 
“Really. N’ I like you ten times that much, and,” —he kisses your neck— “that’s why we’re in love.” 
He scoffs at your teasing tone, breath tickling the side of your neck. “The longer you sit here trying to apologise the cooler your cocoa gets. Don’t be sorry, yeah? I know you didn’t know.” 
“I’m not trying to apologise. I’m mad. You could’ve told me it was Valentine’s coming up but you didn’t. You wanted to make me look bad.” 
He hugs you close, arm held firm to the curve of your back. “That’s exactly what I was trying to do. You caught me.” 
You lean back. He holds you tight to stop you from falling as you wrestle with the bouquet, pulling one especially lovely rose from the bunch. “Happy Valentine’s, mi vida.”
“That’s cheating, and not even half the effort I put in.” 
You press it to his chest and look up at him with every ounce of affection you have for him: it winds him. He covers your hand on his chest, pulling it over his heart. 
“Forgive me?” you ask. 
He rubs your knuckles. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
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faorism · 9 months
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every once in a while, when it's a quiet moment between him and one of his partners—could be anything from a stake out to a long drive in lucille to the warm moments between making love and sleep—eliot will turn to them and say, tell me something i don't know.
parker will usually tell him secrets. the bits of history that only exist between her, bunny, and now eliot. there's a lot from living on the streets, when she was young. she tells him about training with archie; eventually, she tells him what it felt like. she tells him about loneliness and not understanding and frustration and how her hands hurt when she wants to flicker them around; when he asks her why she doesn't let them, she says to ask another night. that's too big a secret to share when another's been revealed already. he does ask, and she does answer. once, she says in a shaking voice, i love you and hardison so much, and parker feels silly because duh eliot knows that, hardison knows that, but eliot heard something deeper than she could express, so he held her tight and kissed her hair as she shivered through the weight of her confession. after sharing with eliot, sometimes parker feels comfortable enough to share with hardison, peggy, sophie, or a client who needs to know they are not alone in the mess and hardship of the world. much later, the fact that parker has shared something once makes it easier to tell her shrink as she gets on SSRIs, which she seeks out after confessing to eliot that even if it had been based on a lie to grift hurley, maybe there was something to her treatment at the second act rehabilitation center that she missed. occasionally, she'll tell him about art. he listens just as patiently as anything else she decides to divulge and she loves him all the more for it.
hardison infodumps. parker didn't press eliot for what he meant the first time he asked; hardison did. eliot had shrugged, anything you wanna share. hardison nips out a testy, so if i go off about (he paused thinking of something that would surely turn eliot off) optimal simcity street design strategies, you wouldn't mind? eliot didn't back down, even when hardison went into a two-hour spiral that branched into different iterations on the concept, including rollercoaster typhoon. eliot made a few comments here and there, asked some clarifying questions now and again, but otherwise let hardison rail on. the next time, the question was framed as what you working on? but the effect was the same. eventually, hardison stopped hesitating and started looking forward to these monologue sessions. hardison doesn't think anything of them other than he's got some quality time with his partner, until one day on a job with some leverage international trainees, eliot manages (elle woods style) to untangle the lie at the heart of a condo scam with a few pointed questions about the plumbing. when one of the trainees asked how the hell he knew that, hardison expects to hear over the comms how eliot once dated a plumber or an architect; instead, eliot scoffs, you met my partner. genius knows a little of everything. which is when hardison remembers once infodumping about sprinkler systems. eliot gets the tightest of hugs when he gets home for truly listening to hardison.
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primehyuck · 8 months
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MOVES
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aka good things take time (the happy ending version)
word count: 11.3k
i first started writing this because i’ve been listening to the song Moves by Suki Waterhouse on repeat, but it became much more than that
contents: long time best friend!haechan, slice of life, pining and yearning, chronological time jumps (mostly college and young adulthood), other members mentioned (Mark and Jeno!roommates), kissing, fluff, wet dreams, a good example of two people who seriously need to communicate, face sitting, morning sex, lots of pet names
“Do you think we’ll be friends for a long time?” Haechan’s soft voice distracts your attempt to focus on a blade of the blurry ceiling fan, unable to keep you cool despite it spinning so fast you think it might fly away.
“How do you mean?” the bed squeaks when Haechan sits up to lean over you.
“Growing up, I feel like my parents didn’t have many friends aside from each other. My mom told me that it’s because when you get older your priorities change and you realize who adds value to your life, and that’s who you decide to keep.” His eyes are glowing with sincerity, body blocking the flow of air from touching you at all “so when we’re older, and married with kids and other priorities, and we maybe live in different cities, do you think we’ll still be friends?”
You stare at him for a moment before shoving his face out of the way of the fans air stream.
“Definitely,” your confidence soothes him enough that he lays back down “if I ever muster up the creativity to come up with a reason to stop being your friend, you have to swear you’ll tell me how stupid I’m being, swear to me.” you smack his chest before he can even answer.
“I swear!” He smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling with you, rubbing his hand over the warm spot where your hand made contact, melting into the mattress.
———
Growing up people always joked that Haechan and you would fall in love, that it was inevitable, practical even. Because, if you fall in love with your best friend you’ve already conquered one of the highest mountains - finding someone that you like, and who likes you back.
You had both seen the other in a relationship, an inevitability when you’ve been friends with someone since puberty. He’d cheered you on when you had your first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school, forced you to come out on double dates with him and a friend of his you didn’t even like just so he could take someone else out, and freshman year of college he’d even introduced you to the person you'd lost your virginity to.
The only time he cockblocked you was when you tried to get to know any of his friends more than platonically, so eventually you gave up and settled for real friendship with all of them.
“Trust me, you don’t want to touch him with a six foot pole.” He’d said freshman year when you had mentioned your attraction to his roommate, Mark.
“He seems so nice, though.” you pouted
“He is nice, but that doesn’t mean you want to be with him.”
“How would you know what I want?” you scoffed, and he looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Has the wind beneath my wings ever led you into the wrong arms?” He was highly animated, offended that you would question his judgment.
By the start of sophomore year it was obvious to everyone else that you were strictly off limits. All of his friends had decided unanimously that even if you did attempt anything with them they had no choice but to shut you down. The cold stare Haechan unknowingly serves them from across the room whenever they got too close was enough to keep them away. None of the boys ever minded the boundaries with you, there always was an ease in your friendship since they all knew it could never go further, but that didn’t mean they never thought about the possibility.
One night, at the end of junior year, Haechan is nowhere to be found at his own party and you graciously accept Jeno’s invitation upstairs when you complain of a headache, “we can play Mario Kart, and it won’t be all competitive like when Haechan plays with us.”
It starts like normal, and you're having fun when you realize that your tipsy brain can’t focus on the screen and the conversation simultaneously, opting for the latter as you relax into Jeno’s pillows. You don’t even notice him inching closer to you until his nose touches yours, tugging at a strand of your hair. This is the first time any of Haechan’s friends have shown interest in you, you’d never even been on the receiving end of a flirtatious stare from across the beer pong table, so you take the reins.
Kissing Jeno feels a little bit like winning, like you’ve finally made it past the invisible forcefield Haechan had put up around his friends. The kiss is lazy and hot, Jeno props himself up on one elbow and presses your back into the mattress with his chest. Your eager fingers run beneath his shirt, his abs tightening when you trail them over his sides. Your spine tingles when he groans into your mouth, the hand on your cheek moving to grip your knee and hike your leg over his hip. His hand holds strong around your thigh, and you sigh when he grinds into you.
Jeno pulls away too soon, stopping your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt with a pained sigh as he drops your leg to roll onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes.
“Fuck, I should not be doing this with you.”
“Why, you don’t want to?” You want to curl into yourself, sitting up to stare down at his shaking head.
“No, definitely not that.” he pulls his arm away to meet your eyes, the alcohol in his veins making him brave enough to admit “Haechan would be pissed.”
“Haechan?” you question “did he say something to you?” Jeno groans, sitting up and hooking his elbows around his knees, staring at the mattress between his legs.
“No, no. He’s never actually said anything,” he knows he’s revealing too much, but he also knows he’s gone too far to stop “we just know he would never want us to cross that line with you.”
“We?” you can feel embarrassment bubbling in your chest at the idea of all of your friends talking about this.
“Yeah, you know, all the guys. We figured you were just off limits, I don’t know.” he grimaces, looking up at you with apologetic eyes when you don’t respond. You huff and climb off the bed, feeling rejected in more ways than one.
You’d crossed a boundary tonight, but Jeno was still a close friend, someone you’d spent a lot of time with since he met Haechan freshman year. He still knows you, so he grabs your wrist before you can leave, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed so he can stand you between his legs.
“I’m sorry, don’t be mad.” He envelops your hands in his and brings them to his chest.
“I’m not mad,” you mumble, avoiding his apologetic gaze “I’m embarrassed that all of my friends agreed not to touch me.”
“Did you really think not a single one of us was ever interested in you?” you shrug and he squeezes your hands tighter, heart tugging in his chest.
“When people don’t act interested, that’s usually a safe assumption.” you pout and Jeno’s laugh buzzes through your linked fingers "I gave up on all of you halfway through freshman year."
“Well, some of us are better actors than I remember.”
He has you laughing by the time you leave his room, sealing the night with one more self indulgent kiss and a pinky swear to never tell Haechan about what happened.
———
Halfway through the first semester of senior year Haechan bangs angrily on his roommates door before swinging it open and Jeno is genuinely shocked that it's taken this long for the gossip to hit his ears. The rest of the boys had clocked Jeno the next morning for being ‘too happy’ and he had to make them all swear not to tell, wanting to protect your pride and his own friendship with Haechan.
"You slut!" Haechan points an accusatory finger in Jeno's direction, dragging his feet slowly toward him until he's so close Jeno has to bat his hand out of his face.
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Haechan's voice is low and angry, something new and unpleasant sparking in his gut at the idea of Jeno kissing you, touching you.
"No, I don't." Jeno can’t help but antagonize. Pleased with the perfect opportunity to trick Haechan into saying out loud what everyone else seems to have known for years.
"You kissed my best friend!" He shrieks, tossing his hands up in the air dramatically.
"So what, she's not allowed to kiss people?" Haechan squints his eyes at Jeno’s response, scrunching his nose in annoyance “how did you even find out?”
"She can kiss whoever she wants, it's all of you that aren't allowed to kiss her." Haechan waves his hand wildly toward the bedroom door, alluding to the large group of boys living in the house “you know Mark can’t keep a secret, he’s been bursting at the seams for months. All I had to do was ask.”
"It happened forever ago dude, why are you so pissed? You've never even given us a chance to get close to her in that way, maybe one of us could really like her." Jeno reasons, tugging at Haechan's strings, watching the gears in his brain turn as he tries to come up with a real argument.
"She has a boyfriend," Haechan finally says with a frown at the thought of the guy he’d only recently met, he doesn’t like him at all. From his stupid hair to the shoes he wears, there’s not a thing about your new boyfriend that Haechan thinks is good enough for you. He collapses into the gaming chair across from where Jeno is relaxed on the couch, not having moved at all since Haechan stormed in "plus, I think any of you would know by now, you've all known her for four years."
"I think, that it can take a lot longer than four years to realize how much you like someone." Jeno bites, "how long have you known her?"
"Since middle school." He picks at the hole in the knee of his black jeans, realizing what Jeno is alluding to, defensive exterior quickly crumbling.
"Right, I think that if you're blind enough then it can take ten years to realize how much you like someone."
"Well, maybe ten years is too long and that person missed their chance." Haechan turns his head to stare out the window, anxiously spinning the chair side to side.
"You know I'm talking about you, right?"
"God, yes, I know you're talking about me." Haechan glares at his friend, fidgeting stopping abruptly "and I know I've been a complete idiot about it, but like I said, I’m out of time."
———
Haechan can’t stop his free hand from clenching and unclenching as you sob into your pillow, his less angry hand rubbing over your back.
“He told me he saw us moving in together after graduation,” your voice shakes “how do you look someone in the eyes and say shit like that and then sleep with someone else?”
“I don’t know,” Haechan replies earnestly, feeling as helpful as flip flops in the snow from where he sits on the edge of your mattress “I’m so sorry.”
He takes your silence as an invitation, lying on his stomach, face turned toward you, fingers still drawing soothing circles over your shoulder blades. He waits patiently for you to calm down, unease swarming his stomach knowing that even after years of friendship he can’t truly comfort you in this moment.
“I’m so embarrassed.” you sniffle, smearing your face over your pillow before turning to look at him. He holds his breath, waiting for you to collect yourself enough to explain.
“I’m so gullible, he even told me he’s cheated in the past and for whatever reason I believed that he’d treat me differently, that he’d love me enough.” Haechan has to count to five in his head to stay calm before he speaks.
“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The most natural thing you can do is believe someone when they say they love you.” He murmurs, turning onto his side so he can pull you into a hug. When you curl into his body to bury your face in his chest he can only pray you can’t hear his heart pound against his ribs.
“He’s an idiot, and he didn’t deserve any of the love you gave him. I promise, you’re so much better off.”
Haechan hates the piece of himself that’s relieved your relationship has ended. The same piece that hated your ex the minute he met him, that feels heavy in your absence whenever you’re busy with anyone who isn’t him. The piece that crosses it’s fingers whenever you get this close in hopes that you’ll be the first one to cross the line, to finally do what he’s thought about doing for the last few months since he realized exactly how he felt about you.
“Thank you,” you mumble into his tear dampened shirt, lifting your leg over his to cuddle in even closer “thanks for always being my friend, even when I do dumb shit, like let boys be mean to me.”
He nuzzles his nose into your scalp, eyes fluttering shut at the smell of your shampoo “Thanks for letting me. Besides, even Beyoncé got cheated on, so you clearly aren’t that dumb.” the crowd in his brain cheers when you giggle into his chest.
“You’re so annoying.” He holds you even tighter.
———
“I can’t believe it,” your jaw drops and Haechan whips his head up nervously to look at you from across the couch
“What happened?”
“I got it, I got the job!” you shove his feet off your lap to jump up excitedly, bouncing on your toes as you read the email out loud. Haechan’s ears are ringing so loud he barely catches the first half, trying to shake off the dazed look he’s sure appears on his face.
“We were extremely impressed with your resume and even more so with the impression you left on the board during your interview, blah blah blah, excited to offer you this position, blah blah blah, and a relocation bonus to join us in in our new office!” the pitch of your voice rises a few octaves as you finish reading.
Haechan stares at you from his spot on the couch, eyes wide with shock that you’re too excited to notice, skimming your screen as you re-read the details in your offer letter.
His entire body is buzzing, torn between feeling excited at your accomplishment and sorry for himself.
He had a plan, a really good one, he thought. After your breakup you’d made it painfully clear that you wanted to be single for a while, and he knew if he could just be patient, it would all be worth it. So Haechan decided to bottle his feelings up, sitting patiently by your side where he had been for so many years, waiting for you to heal and hoping that when you were finally ready to start dating again he’d have mustered up the courage to make the first move.
“Lee Donghyuck, are you even listening to me!?” you drop your phone to pull him up off the couch, bouncing up and down with your fingers intertwined “I’m moving to my dream city, to start my dream job.” you reiterate and he snaps out of it, sweeping the imaginary shards of glass that his plan had been made out of under the rug and pulling you into a hug.
“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.”
“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” You deadpan, but squeeze him back just as tight.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you is all.” He admits, "I'd follow you if my job didn't keep me here."
“I’ll make sure you don’t miss me too much, don’t worry.” you plant your cheek on his chest, surprised at the relief you feel in hearing him say it first.
———
This feeling was still a little unfamiliar, nerves. Haechan had never made you nervous growing up; excited, annoyed, passionate maybe, but never nervous.
The nerves began last summer, when he’d come out to visit you for the first time to celebrate his birthday. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met, almost ten full months and the anticipation was palpable.
When he steps through the airport doors you think that it’s the relief of finally being near him again that knocks the wind out of you. Running into his open arms and being squeezed so tightly in them that you tap his shoulder to let you breathe. Ruffling his hair when he steps back and ignoring the fact that he had grown so much since you’d seen him last.
But as the night goes on, the slight changes to the person you have memorized become glaringly obvious. The way his cheeks have lost some of their cushion, revealing a sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. The natural wave in his once unruly hair now falling perfectly over his brow bone, he had dyed it a little darker which made his tan skin glow even in dim lighting. Even his smell seemed to draw you into a trance, a much more expensive version of the Haechan you know.
“You know, that group of girls has been staring over at you since we walked in.” You raise your eyebrows playfully, pointing your glass toward the pretty gaggle that keeps walking past the booth you and Haechan occupy.
He doesn’t break eye contact with you before shrugging, “I didn’t come here to see them, I came to see you.” he smiles, punctuating his thought by reaching over the table and tapping your nose.
“I know, I know,” you laugh, batting him away “It never hurts to know when people are staring, though”
His face is unreadable as he rests his arm lazily up over the bench of the booth, body sinking into the seat while he lifts his glass to swirl his drink, biting the words that have been resting on the tip of his tongue the entire trip, and at the end of every phone call since you started your new job.
“How are you, seriously.” You push. In the time since you moved he’d started and ended a relationship with a girl that you’d never met. Your new job kept you so busy that you hadn’t even learned about the breakup until a week later, when you finally had the time to call him back. The guilt of your absence weighs you down, resenting your inability to be there for him the way he had been for you in the past.
“I’m over it, seriously.” You know he’s telling the truth, but it’s in your nature to pry.
“You never really talked about, why, you know.”
“Do I have to?”
“No, I’m sorry, I just feel so behind on your life.” You sigh and push your empty glass to the side, swirling your finger in the ring of cold water it leaves behind.
“It’s okay, really. You’ve been busy, I understand.” He reaches across the table to stop your anxious fingers “I didn’t love her the way I knew I should, that’s all. It’s a good thing that it ended, and I’m happy that it did.”
“That’s all that matters, then.” and he’s grateful that you drop the subject.
You eventually get back to your apartment, both giggly and flush from the alcohol still fogging your brain despite the long walk you'd hoped would lessen it. Haechan holds your hand the whole way back, even when he stops suddenly to pet a dog, dragging you down to the ground with him. He can’t help himself, grateful that at this point you'd touched one another in every way other than what he dreams about most, and you seem oblivious to his need to be so close to you.
As you get ready for bed he lets himself watch you undress facing the wall away from him, unaware of his gaze burning into your backside and the way his fingers tingle at the thought of pulling at the meat of your hips. He scolds his heart for thudding so loud when you squeeze your eyes into a smile at his reflection standing next to yours at the sink while you brush your teeth, the domestication of your friendship that he used to appreciate now suffocating him.
You put on a movie and invite him to rest his head on the pillow in your lap, wishing he could bury his nose into the skin of your thighs beneath it. Halfway through the movie he has to sit up to hide the way his cock is hardening at the feeling of your nails combing through his hair and down his shoulder, occasionally thrumming over his chest. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over his legs as casually as possible, pulling you into his side by your shoulder, the other arm stretched across the back of the couch.
"Are you cold for the first time in your life?" Haechan never wants to use a blanket, but you’re grateful for the position giving you access to bury your face into his chest, gripping his shirt.
"No, just want to be warmer." he presses a blushing cheek onto the top of your head, trying to think of anything except the way your hair smells, or the feeling of the side of your breast brushing his wrist through your shirt. Haechan feels eighteen again and like he's discovering the connection between romantic and sexual feelings for the first time in his life. He tries to match his breathing to yours, holding his breath whenever you shift in his hold and reconnecting his stomach with your back as quickly as possible. The temptation to pour his heart out is overwhelming, but when he feels your body completely relax into his and your breathing slow down, the words become trapped in his throat, so he lets you sleep.
Haechan had never experienced a shorter 48 hours than that weekend he spent following you around the city you now call home.
You’re shining in your new space, and he happily trails behind you to all the places you’ve discovered in the almost year since you moved. His stomach does somersaults whenever you point something out that reminds you of him.
“I’ve been waiting to come here until you could come with me!” you're so excited to take him to the video game themed coffee shop that your co-workers had recommended “I thought about coming to see if it was even worth it, but I only want to play these kinds of games with you anyway.”
Sometimes he can forget about his feelings for you, when things are just as they always have been. You talk with and touch him the same, laugh at his jokes the same. He thinks that if he were to ever say out loud what he’s been feeling, that the two of you would still be the same but with a little More, ‘you guys’ but on steroids. So when everything is normal he can pretend like it‘a not. He can act like the More is there when you hold his hand to drag him around to the different machines, play games he wants to play even if you don’t want to, you even wipe ice cream off of his chin when his cone starts to melt because he’s talking too much to eat and he wonders why it took him so long to see it this way, and if you could too.
He keeps thinking the moment will come, when he’ll know spilling his guts to you is the right thing to do. But between you gushing over how much you love your new life and your willingness to point out every girl who has blinked at him this weekend, he completely loses the steam he’d gained during his flight, regardless of how his imagination runs wild with the More.
He curses himself the entire weekend for his lack of bravery, hoping that keeping his feelings in is the right decision. After his recent relationship crashed and burned because of his feelings for you he thought he had no choice but to come clean. But watching you, being with you in your new life makes him realize that his role in it hasn’t changed even if his feelings for you have.
The lump in his throat as he stands outside the departure doors is more than just sadness at the thought of leaving you, it’s the realization that he has to let the romantic idea of you go.
“How come you never cry when we have to leave each other,” you hiccup into his chest, and he coos your name lovingly.
“Don’t worry, you know I save my tears for the plane to make everyone in my row uncomfortable.” He knows that you hate that he’s making you laugh at a time like this, pulling away so you can swat his chest and he raises his hands in surrender.
“When will we be able to see each other again?”
“As soon as possible.” He nods reassuringly, wiping your tears with his thumb, heart pounding as he stares into your watering eyes “hey, you’re my best friend in the world, you annoy me every day, and I love you.”
“Whatever, I love you too.” you laugh, but his heart speeds up at the words that you’ve said to him thousands of times. You sweep your arms around him one last time before pushing him toward the airport doors “you better go, if you miss your flight I can’t guarantee I’ll let you leave at all.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He walks backwards slowly, staring at you with a ‘kicked puppy’ kind of face he mastered years ago and you wave enthusiastically, blowing loud kisses into the air that he catches and clutches to his heart.
“This is it,” he thinks, “this has to be it.”
———
Haechan is dreaming about you. He has been nightly ever since he got back from his birthday weekend. He’s grateful the dreams have variety, since some of them overwhelm him to the point of waking up and not being able to fall back asleep.
Sometimes, you’re young again and whenever anyone says “You know, it’s just a matter of time until one of you has a crush on the other.” you both theatrically gag, laughing at each other as if it were the most insane idea in the world. Or, you're sitting on his childhood couch watching your guys' favorite movie for the hundredth weekend in a row, vocalizing the parts of the two main characters and recreating all the best scenes.
Sometimes you’re at his apartment just hanging out together, which are dreams that feel so real he almost expects to see you in his kitchen when he wakes up. Most of these dreams spark a deja vu laced flame in his gut so deep he finds himself confusing them with memories. The ache of missing you wakes him up before his alarm some mornings, and he finds himself face timing you once he knows you're awake just to watch you make coffee and wash your face.
But sometimes, he has dreams that make him feel so ashamed he can barely text you back in the morning. Dreams where he reaches to touch you and you let him, where you tug at his hair and moan his name while he does all the things that he can only do to you in his sleep. He hates to say that these are his favorite, but it's the one dream he knows he'll never actually achieve and he goes to bed every night praying for them.
That’s the kind of dream he’s having when his phone buzzes him awake. He answers without looking because there are only a handful of people who can reach him when he’s on ‘do not disturb’, and you’re one of them. He hums a sleepy greeting into his phone, putting it on speaker next to his pillow and nearly drifting right back into the dream and between your thighs.
“Donghyuck” his eyes shoot open at the sound of your voice “did i wake you up?”
He can practically hear the pout in your voice, squinting at the time on his phone, “Yes, it’s three in the morning,” he stares down to where he’s half hard, running an embarrassed hand over his face even though there’s no possible way for you to know “are you okay?”
“No, well technically yes but I miss you which means things could be better.” you slur your words and Haechan smiles, somehow he's never annoyed that you call him pretty much every time you drink. He thinks it's because he's familiar with this version of you, though he definitely hasn't seen it often since college graduation. This version of you loves him hard, and is never afraid to say it.
"I miss you too," he takes a beat before adding "I was dreaming about you just now."
You gasp excitedly "Really! What were we doing." He smirks at the thought of telling you that you had been sitting on his face, hand reaching back for his cock while he guides your cunt over his tongue until you were shaking above him.
"Just, hanging out." he shrugs. It's his second time this week alone dreaming of your clit bumping his nose, and the thought makes his mouth water.
"I don't believe you." You say accusingly "that's way too boring for a mind like yours to dream up."
"What exactly is my mind like?" He yawns, throwing his forearm over his eyes.
"Oh, you know," you hum "your mind is a galaxy, with at least a billion planets and twice as many stars. I wish I could fly into your head and explore it, but NASA doesn't have the funds."
Haechan holds his breath at your compliment, the smile on his face so wide he can hear it in his own voice "That sounds like an episode of Magic School Bus."
"Your brain is definitely cooler than some cartoon, it's pretty much my favorite place on Earth."
"How would you know, you've never actually been inside?" He shakes his head, teasing you gently. Hearing words like these come out of your mouth breaks his heart and glues it back together at the same time.
"Are you saying you never think about me?" you ask him, not an ounce of sarcasm in your voice.
"I think about you all the time, I promise, all the planets in my brain are shaped like you." You hum, pleased with his response. He shuts his eyes and waits for your answer.
"Yeah, all the planets in mine are shaped like you, too." you pause for a second and add "plus all the stars, I win, I think about you more."
———
This time when Haechan comes to visit you, you know the nerves are more than just excitement at seeing your best friend. It’s a feeling that is nestled so deep in your stomach it makes you a little nauseous. You haven't seen him since you went home for the holidays and he only has one night in the city. You find yourself grueling over your reflection in the mirror, not used to being self conscious in front of him. You’re only going out for happy hour, but you put yourself together to last all night.
When Haechan finally arrives he whistles lowly, making you blush when he pulls out of your hug and requests a spin.
“I appreciate that you got so dressed up for me.” He teases, hoping you don’t catch his eyes sweeping over your legs, wanting to commit you in this dress to memory.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours making sure you looked as perfect as possible. Hoping he doesn’t see the pile of clothes shoved into your closet from all the failed attempts.
“Never,” he grabs your purse off of the counter and opens the door, sweeping his arm out in front of him dramatically “after you. There are some strangers outside who are waiting to catch a glimpse of you, they just don’t know it yet.”
“You are so dramatic.” You lock the door behind you, using the moment facing away from him to collect yourself. Lately you catch yourself wondering if he'd always been so flirtatious, or if you're just forcing meaning behind his words because of how badly you want him to be.
“What, a guy can’t compliment his best friend?”
You smile widely at him and grab your bag out of his grasp, popping your key inside and walking toward the entrance of your building. Praying your fingers stop shaking when you finally get a drink in you. Haechan throws his arm around your shoulders while you walk down the street to your favorite cocktail bar and you're grateful for his usual chatter, talking to you about work and his slow climb up the ladder.
“They put me in a hotel this time, so you don’t have to worry about making me breakfast in the morning.” He smiles at you, sipping his drink gingerly.
“You know I never cook you breakfast.” He feels so far away across the table and you wish that you were sitting next to him instead, shoulders cold without the weight of his arm around them. It feels so good to have him touch you, to feel like you're his. There's a small part of you that feels guilty for using his knack for physical affection to your advantage, he has no idea what the heat of his skin on yours does.
“I know, but all the meetings are in the hotel anyway so it’s easier this time to just stay there.”
You try not to let yourself visibly deflate at the news, wanting to keep him for yourself the whole time he’s in town. His knee presses against yours under the table and you focus all your energy into acting the way you would have before, but you can’t focus on anything else and cross your legs to pull away from him as casually as possible. As badly as you want to touch him, sometimes you can’t.
“What time do you have to be up?”
He groans, leaning back enough that his knee now slides against your shin, “too early,” and glances down at his now empty glass, motioning to the bartender for another “which means you need to drink faster, so I can stop at a reasonable hour.”
You smile, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp, when his foot taps against yours you know it's going to be a long night.
The end of the night finds you together on your couch with a shared bottle of wine sitting empty on the coffee table, his early meetings temporarily forgotten. You and Haechan have been in this position plenty of times, drunk, slap happy and overly touchy in a way that you had always been comfortable being with one another. The difference now is you, this version of you who wants your best friend in an entirely different way.
Every time he pulls you closer you feel electricity shoot straight to your heart so intensely that you have to duck out of his grasp. You don’t know what to do with the feelings that have been growing gradually from your toes up, now practically sprouting out of your scalp with a neon sign blinking “I’m in love with you” over and over.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Haechan whines when you all but flinch away from his hand reaching for his phone near your arm. He’d been aware of it all night, the space you left between the two of you while you walked back from the bar, your sudden inability to maintain the eye contact that he craved. The complete lack of physical touch makes him feel dejected.
“Doing what?” You give him a panicked look, practically sober at the thought of being found out, of what it would feel like to be rejected by him.
“You’re not letting me touch you,” he frowns, and the alcohol buzzes through your veins again “not that you need to let me, but you only avoid it like this when you’re upset. Did I do something?” he pouts, tired eyes low when he flops his head onto his bicep resting on the back of the couch. You forget to breathe for a second when he looks up at you under dark lashes.
“I’m not upset. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” you’re lying through your teeth, but scoot an inch closer to him to make your point. He doesn’t look convinced, and if you’d had less to drink you may have noticed the mischievous glint in his eye before he grabs you by your arm, knocking you off balance and into his chest.
“See,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arms around your body and you can feel his chest buzz when he hums, cheek pressed to the top of your head. You have no choice but to ungracefully shift your lower body closer to him, making yourself a sponge and soaking in his familiar touch “isn’t that better?”
You nod, “Yes, it is better.” and you really wish he didn’t know you so well, that even in his fifth hour of being drunk he can read your mind. He pulls your ear off his heart to grab your cheeks, smushing them together and whispering your name with a shake of his head.
“What is it?” he urges, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist to loosen his grip. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and count to three in your head before you can talk yourself out of leaning forward and pressing your lips to his.
You feel him falter for a half second before he’s kissing you back, pulling your face closer and pushing his body toward yours. You can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears when his tongue touches yours, and then suddenly his mouth is gone. He moves so quick you have to put your arms out to stop yourself from face planting into the cushion he had just been sitting on.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” you gasp “i shouldn’t have done that, Haechan, I’m so sorry.”
It takes everything in you to look up to where he’s now standing with his arms crossed over his chest protectively. You have no idea what he’s thinking, staring down at you with wide eyes. Insecurity sweeps through you under his intense gaze, and you almost beg him to say something.
“I’m seeing someone,” the way the confession rings in your ears would have you believing that he screamed the words, but his voice was barely above a whisper “shit, I’m sorry.”
You aren’t sure if it’s your life that flashes before your eyes, or your years of friendship with him, at this point the two tend to blur together.
“That’s-” you sit back on your calves and inhale shakily, knowing it’s not even worth it to attempt to fake any sort of excitement for him “why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs, swallowing thickly and pulling his eyes away from your face to stare at the ceiling “It’s new and I didn’t know how. It just never came up.”
“Well then, I’m sorry that it didn’t. I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what came over me.” grateful that he’s finally the one avoiding eye contact with you so he doesn’t see your legs wobble when you stand “probably best to pretend that never happened. I’m just drunk and I missed you-”
Your name sounds so pathetic when he says it this time and you think it’s the eighth wonder of the natural world that you haven’t started crying yet. You shake your head instead, wishing so desperately that you had changed out of the dress you were wearing as you pull the slinky material down your thighs.
“Honestly, Haechan,” You regret your next words before they even hit the air “you should probably go. You have an early morning.”
The shock on his face pains you, but you can’t stand to see what you can only assume is pity growing in his eyes for another second.
“I don’t want to go, I want to talk about this.”
“I’m sorry.” you say again and his shoulders slump in defeat, recognizing that you’d made up your mind.
“It’s okay.” He means it, shuffling forward and the look on your face is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. His breath catches when you shift away the inch he moved toward you, eyes locked on his and he can see the desperation in them before he hears it in your voice.
“Text me when you get to the hotel?” your voice cracks with a heavy mix of exhaustion and embarrassment that makes him nods once, grabbing his things and walking slowly toward your door. He turns to look at you, but his words catch in his throat when he sees your eyes begin to water, mustering up all his energy to offer what he prays is a reassuring smile before letting himself out.
You sink back into the couch when the door clicks shut, head hanging in your hands as the tears finally start to flow. You cry so hard you feel like you could throw up, replaying his rejection over and over in your mind, shame and regret coursing through your veins. Pure embarrassment heats your body at the look on his face when he told you he was seeing someone, and you’re not sure if it was disgust or pity in his eyes.
On top of the rejection, knowing that he didn’t feel like he could share something as big as meeting someone with you was a dagger to the heart, up until recently you had never kept a secret from him, and even this one you clearly couldn’t keep in for long.
You force yourself into the shower, scrubbing angrily at your skin under the scalding water. You get out once your fingers have pruned and your skin feels raw, avoiding the mirror on your way to your bedroom. You kick angrily at the dress you'd left on the floor, watching it land near the pile of outfits you had discarded while getting ready.
Haechan had texted you nearly thirty minutes earlier
“made it back”
you give it a thumbs up before turning your phone off, setting an alarm with the clock on your side table and letting the emotional exhaustion lull you to sleep.
------
Haechan is realizing that there is no way in hell that you need space more than he needs to talk to you. He tries to call you multiple times the first week after you kissed him but you never answered, and Haechan doesn’t want to push you to the point of no return. What he really wants is to go back in time and not leave you that night, but the pain in your eyes was so pronounced he couldn't bare to make it any worse. The only physical proof that you had kissed him at all being the stupid blue thumbs up on the text he had sent you that night. It's followed by a slew of reassuring texts, saying that he broke up with his girlfriend and if you would please just talk to him, that he's not mad.
This is the feeling he carries with him nearly two weeks later on the flight to you, when he’s sure that another minute of silence from you will kill him. By the time he gets to your apartment it’s almost midnight, so he knocks loud enough to wake you up.
When you open the door in a shirt he thinks might be his, Haechan knows he has no choice. He's speaking before you can say anything, before he can change his mind.
"I came here to tell you that I think you're being really stupid." He curses internally for the obvious nerves in his voice, your tired eyes widen with shock at his words.
"Excuse me?"
"Years ago you made me swear that I would tell you if you ever came up with a reason not to be my friend anymore. So I'm telling you now, I think you're being really fucking stupid."
"I'm not doing that" You defend yourself, tearing up at the sight of him. He pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and standing close enough to touch. He’s staring you down with pleading eyes, and you bury your face in your hands so you don’t have to look at him.
“Then why are you ignoring me? Why won’t you let me fix this?”
“I don’t know I just,” you inhale shakily “I don't know how to do it right now, not like this."
"Like what?" He hopes he already knows the answer, but needs to hear you say it, to know that you’re as serious as he is. Your mouth feels full of cotton when he forces you to look at him by whispering your name, pulling your hands from your face and his heart pinches tightly at the tears welling in your eyes "please tell me, please. Like what?"
"You already know," your bottom lip betrays you, voice weak beneath heavy emotion when you speak "I love you, Haechan. I'm in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it. I feel like I fucked everything up, but I can’t undo it."
He feels his lungs fill with relief. Haechan steps forward to close the small gap between your bodies, grabbing your jaw to rest his forehead against yours. You falter, but his hand on the small of your back keeps you from going anywhere, he's practically panting and you can barely stand, dizzy with the feeling of him. You want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming when he whispers "You didn't fuck anything up."
He ghosts his lips over yours for a moment until he's sure you're not going to stop him. When he finally kisses you it's with years of pent up adoration, directing your arms around his neck and pressing his thumb firmly into your jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of your throat. He practically whines when your fingers tighten in his hair and your lips part for his warm tongue. His arm wraps around your waist so tightly you have to hinge backward to keep your mouths connected, gasping at the strength you didn't know he had.
He keeps your stomach flush to his own and kisses you until you're practically limp in his arms, pulling away to breathe. His eyes are shut as he rubs his nose over yours
"I love you, too. I've been meaning to tell you for a while." All the blood rushes into your ears at his words and you can't stop your biggest worry from spilling into the air.
“What if you change your mind?”
“I made up my mind a long time ago, there's nothing you could do to change it." He blinks his eyes open, pulling his face away from yours just enough to see you, the trepidation in your eyes makes him say your name quietly.
"It's only me, you know me," he assures you in a hushed tone "you have to know by now that you are my entire world."
You could laugh, only him, as if he hasn’t been one of the most important people in your life since the day you met. As if he isn’t someone who has seen you at every stage of it so far. It’s Haechan, who has always been funny, who has witnessed the worst sides of you and never made you feel bad, who has never left your side.
You kiss him again, fingers wrapping in tight fists around his shirt to keep yourself grounded. Haechan’s heart pounds happily in his chest and he hopes you can feel it this time, both hands nestling into your hair. He kisses you gently in an effort to slow down your urgent movements, moaning at the taste of your mouth. You fall into his rhythm easily, the way his tongue rolls gently over yours makes your body go up in flames. You move your hands to slide beneath his shirt, landing on the strong muscles in his back and teasing your fingers up his sides.
When you finally come up for air he stares at you for a minute before laughing, stomach tightening beneath your fingers when he does.
"What's funny?" you shut your eyes, leaning your forehead into his chest, letting the pretty sound ring in your ears.
"Nothing, I'm just-" he cuts himself off with a shrug, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head "I love you, and you love me back. That's all, that's how easy it is."
"It hasn't been easy at all, in fact my life has been very very hard since your birthday last year.” He pulls away from your head to ogle at you.
"My birthday last year?" You nod, feeling your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, it had really been that long "God, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking idiot."
He's kissing you again before you can ask him to elaborate, grabbing hold of both wrists in one hand while he walks you backward and guides you up onto the counter as slowly as he has to in order to keep his lips on yours. His hips are the perfect height for you to wrap your legs around, gasping in surprise when he slides his hands around your ass and presses your core tightly against the growing bulge in his jeans.
You feel shy when you pull away to ask if he wants to go to your bedroom, feeling frozen in place when he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his plump lips swollen and red.
"Tonight, I'm just kissing you." Every cell in his body is screaming in protest at his own words. He can't express how badly he wants to do everything else, to recreate his dreams, to learn the parts of your body he'd never seen before. But he can't imagine doing anything but this tonight, just this; his lips on yours, your breath in his lungs and your body melting into his.
"Why?” your eyebrows pull together in confusion. You practically shiver with need, tucking your arms between your stomachs and burying your nose in his throat. His laugh buzzes against your face, rubbing his hands gently over your shoulders and trying to control his own breathing as your lips brush over his skin.
All he can say is, “Because I’ve been needing to for a long time.”
“How long?” You pull away from his chest, leaning back onto your hands and closing your eyes when he runs his own down your sternum and over your waist, groping at the flesh of your hips and trying not to regret his romantic side.
“Way too long.”
“Your birthday?” you ask, tugging gently at his shirt. He plants his hands outside of your legs to lean in close, one corner of his mouth pulling up.
“Much longer.” Your eyes widen in shock, and he interrupts you before you can question him “can we talk about it later? I have something really important to do tonight.”
———
He tells you that he's had feelings for you since senior year of college, when you kissed Jeno. He tells you about his plan to admit everything when he had seen you on his birthday, but that he was too scared. He assures you he ended his relationship the moment he got back home the previous week “because everyone has felt like a matter of 'when' it will end, not 'if',” He tells you that just two weeks of your silence hurt worse than any previous heartbreak, and you agree. And before you fell asleep next to him he tells you again, ‘I'm so in love with you.’ and shimmies excitedly when you say it back before kissing you until you can barely keep your eyes open. He holds your cheeks in his hands and practically lulls you to sleep with his tongue, plush lips pressing to yours so gently you can hardly feel them dotting around the rest of your face. He thinks he could do this forever before sleep finally catches up with him, his arm slung over your side to hold your face to his chest.
You wake up curled into a familiar side, your first emotion being giddy as the night floods back to you. Despite your obvious willingness to go further, Haechan had meant it when he said he'd only be kissing you. It made you crazy at first, but when the two of you were staring at each other in the mirror with shy eyes while moving through a nighttime routine you had gotten familiar with years before, you were happy he had the self control you clearly lack. The idea of him actually seeing and touching you in ways he never had before, of doing all the things you'd found yourself imagining him doing over the last year; it was overwhelming. Kissing until your jaw was sore and your lips were swollen felt easy.
You’re startled by Haechan’s hand reaching for yours, holding your palm and bringing your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to each one, “good morning.” his voice is deep and tired, mouth landing on the crown of your head.
"Good morning." You press your nose into his chest happily, gripping his hand in yours and resisting the urge to squeal with delight.
"What are you so excited about, me?" He teases, hand falling on your thigh to guide your leg up the front of his, stopping just below his crotch and you hope he's going to give you what you'd been wanting all night, for the last year.
"You, I just can't believe how happy I am." You admit, lifting your head off of his chest to smile at him. He pulls you right back down, kissing your lips once before rolling you both over so he's on top of you. He presses a hand over your collarbone and drags his lips down your chin and over your throat.
"You know, this means you're all mine now." he smirks against your neck when you nod, gasping when he sucks gently at the base. He has one forearm on the mattress, the other hand too gentle on your ribs. You can feel that he's hard and you immediately roll your hips up.
"Does this mean you're gonna do more than just kiss me now?" you intend to sound confident, but it comes out as a whimper. His nose brushes over your jaw before he presses lingering kisses to your chin and cheek.
"Yes, baby, if you'll let me." You nod eagerly, shifting your face so your lips are beneath his and sighing happily when he lowers his weight onto your torso, licking into your mouth. You shiver with anticipation when he pushes at your shirt, long fingers tickling up your side before landing on your breast. You gasp into his mouth when his thumb brushes over your already hard nipple.
Your impatience is overwhelming, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it up to his shoulders. He pulls away reluctantly, reaching one hand toward his back and pulling his shirt over his head. You gnaw at your lip, running your hands over his stomach and hooking your knees around his hips as much as you can while stretching your arms over your head.
“Cute.” he murmurs, pulling your shirt up and tossing it to the side. He gropes at your chest, tongue wetting his lips before he leans down to wrap them around one of your nipples. He’s trying to act without thinking, to let the dreams he’s had pave the path down your body because he knows the second he acknowledges his nerves he won’t be able to shake them off. His heart thrums when you gasp above him, arching your chest into his mouth. He’s greedy for your sounds, his hands squeezing your breasts together and licking between them to get to the other nipple. When your hips buck up into his he groans, pulling away from your chest and staring down at you with wondering eyes.
“Can I?” He feels unnaturally shy, leaning back on his calves and watching his fingers press dimples into the flesh of your hips above your underwear, tugging at the hem.
“You don’t need to ask.” He smiles, forcing you to sit by grabbing the back of your neck for a kiss. His fingers press into your clothed core and your hips roll into his hand. He sighs into your mouth at your desperation, torn between teasing you and touching you everywhere.
You can’t keep your legs from shutting around his arm when he pushes your panties to the side and slides his middle and ring finger up your wet center, circling over your clit.
You pull away from the kiss, blinking up at him and your mouth falls open when he presses firmly on your clit, rubbing in slow circles. His head hangs as he lets out a quiet “fuck” at your reaction, moving his hand off your neck to stroke over your stomach and without it behind your head you have to lie back, he presses your legs open. Haechan stares at your chest while he settles between your knees, pushing two fingers inside your dripping core. His jaw hangs open, watching his knuckles disappear inside of you.
“So soft,” he breathes, staring down to where his fingers glisten when he pulls them out to rub over your clit again, palming over his cock getting harder in his sweats “want to be everywhere at once.”
“Want you everywhere.” you whine when his fingers pull away to hook into your underwear, tugging them down your legs. Haechan stands to strip and you hold your breath and soak in the soft swell of his hip that leads to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It’s pretty like the rest of him, and thicker than you'd expected with a leaking tip that matches the color of his tongue, he strokes himself once and you don’t get the chance to reach for him before he lays back on the bed, rolling you to sit on top of him. You shudder when your pulsing clit rubs over his stomach, inner thigh squeezing into his ribs. He runs his hands up your waist, scooting you an inch higher and grabbing onto your tits.
“Do you remember a few months ago, when you called me drunk and I told you I was dreaming about hanging out with you?” He shivers when you grind down in response, wet pussy sliding easily over his skin “I lied.”
Your hands press into his chest, tilting your head “what were we doing?” you can barely speak above a whisper when he pinches gently at your nipple with one hand, the other rubbing over your ribs when he smirks up at you.
“You were about a foot higher than you are right now,” you gasp and reach out to grab the headboard when he jolts his hips to move you up his chest, staring down at him with wide eyes as he shifts to wrap his arms under your legs, fingers pressing into your thighs.
“You dreamt about this?” you let him bring your hips to hover over his face, hands falling into his hair when he brushes his nose over your clit as he nods.
“All the time,” he moans and drags you down onto his face, lips wrapping around your clit. You shudder above him, letting some of your weight collapse into your heels and he groans happily at the pressure of you on his chin, pressing you harder onto his mouth to fuck his tongue into you. He wants to devour you, every sound you make goes straight to his cock which is already rock hard at the taste and smell of you. Even just thinking about the fact that it's your hips grinding over his face right now is enough to make him moan into your pussy.
You slur out praise, one of your hands shooting up to grip the headboard. His hands wander gently up your sides, eyes opening to stare up to where he plays with your tits, hard cock pulsing at the sight of your head thrown back, hips moving in gentle circles over his face. Haechan’s hand tugs yours down to his hair, trying to restrain himself from thrusting into the empty air at the feeling of you all over him. He hums happily into your pussy when you start to grind over his mouth, flattening his tongue for you to ride until your legs are shaking.
He lets out a deep “mmhmm” when you warn him that you’re going to cum, suckling hard on your clit until you’re practically begging him to let you go, body crumpling forward with both hands tangled in his hair. He's grateful you didn't touch his cock, just the thought of your fingers wrapped around him is enough to make him cum and he has other plans.
You can’t speak when you collapse onto the mattress beside him, immediately warmed by the weight of his body on top of yours as he slots himself between your thighs, sucking a hickey onto the front of your throat.
“Taste too fucking good,” he hums, mouthing over your chin and cheek “been dreaming of eating your sweet pussy for so long.” you practically swoon when he kisses you, pre-cum wetting the inside of your thigh when he relaxes his stomach onto yours.
“Hyuck, want you in me, please” Your vision is blurry, whining into his swollen lips. He works them over your cheek before pulling away from you, bringing one of your legs up to his shoulder and you rest the other knee on his hip. He can feel himself pant when he taps the head of his cock on your swollen clit, practically drooling when he sticks barely the tip inside before pulling back and repeating the tantalizing motion.
“Been waiting for too long to be teased,” you pout, trying to encourage his hips toward yours with the ankle he’s not pressing his cheek into. He smirks and circles his leaking tip over you again, watching his cock spread your arousal around before he pushes into you a little further.
“I’m taking my time with you, feels so fucking good.” He can’t look away from between your thighs, messy hair hanging over his forehead while his fingers grip your ankle tightly. You whimper when he pulls all the way out again, one more hard tap against your pulsing clit before he pushes himself halfway into your leaking pussy. You rise onto your elbows, trying to reach one hand to grab for his hip but he releases the base of his cock to stop you by lacing your fingers together. When Haechan finally looks into your eyes he bottoms out, stretching your leg toward your chest so he can lean in. His hips stutter, a choked groan rumbling deep in his chest.
“Oh my god, Hyuck please.” you beg him to move with a gasp. His forehead presses to your chin, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Fuck, baby, been needing you," he thrusts into you slowly, lifting his head to look down at you glowing beneath him with your eyes shut. He pulls out all the way before thrusting back inside, quickening his hips when your eyes flutter open, the look on your face enough to make his balls tighten slightly, shutting his eyes to regain self control "knew you'd feel so fucking good."
"M’so full, Haechan." you moan at his words and the rapid slap of his hips on the back of your thighs, forcing your eyes to stay open so you can see his face. The way his nose scrunches with focus when he pulls away from your chest, both his hands wrapping firmly around your hips while he watches his cock sink into you. Brown, shaggy hair sticks to his damp forehead, full lower lip taken between his teeth. He’s pure, unadulterated boyish beauty, and he’s all yours.
You squeak when he lets your leg drop off his shoulder, pressing your thigh as far open as it will go with your heel digging into his backside. He fans his fingers over your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to push your clit side to side and your hips tuck up for more pressure, Haechan moans loudly when the movement causes you to clamp around his cock, "Perfect fucking pussy, can't believe it's mine now. Like my fingers on your pretty clit?”
You nod enthusiastically, letting go of your breasts to hold the backs of your thighs, Haechan's eyes move up your body to stare at your chest move beneath him, nipples looking sweet as candy. He’s dying to sink his fingers into the softest part of your stomach, the way you’re moving for him makes his mind turn to sand. You stare down to where his thumb is making circles over your clit, perfectly timed with the head of his cock bruising your g-spot. You feel a second orgasm build and the corner of his mouth pulls up proudly when your legs shake. Your head hangs back as you gasp for air, "yes, please, Haechan feels so fucking good."
"Make the prettiest noises for me, want you cumming all over my cock." he leans forward just enough to trap your throat beneath the weight of his palms, other hand still moving over your swollen clit. You smile at the pressure of his body on yours, eyes fluttering shut while you moan. You nod desperately when he asks if you can do that, "if you can let me make you feel that good, please, my pretty girl."
He takes his hand off your throat when you cum, wanting to hear every sound you could possibly make. You repeat his name like a blessing that has him cumming with you, moaning and breathless as his hips start to slow, milking you both through your orgasms.
You wrap your arms around him when he pulls out of you, reveling in the feeling of him when he lowers himself down, burrowing his face into your neck and warming your skin with his breath. You hold him there for a minute until he pulls his head up, dopey smile lighting up his eyes and making you laugh.
“What?” you scrunch your nose at him “better than your dreams?”
He nods, “so much better, best I ever had, my body belongs to you now.” he smirks at his own words, but his tone is so gentle he can’t even call it a joke.
“Just your body?” you tease, and he leans his nose onto your lips for a kiss that you carry onto the mole under his eye.
“Body, mind, heart, soul,” he sighs happily when you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently “all the planets in my head.”
"All the planets in my head too."
————
masterlist
authors note // this ended up being much longer than i anticipated, maybe the longest one shot i’ve ever actually written! i appreciate everyone who voted for happy ending because when i was originally thinking of a sad ending it was too hard lol. this feels forever unfinished because there is so much good to this version of haechan, i adore him.
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flseur · 4 months
Text
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꒰ 𐙚 memories — satoru gojo ꒱
⟡ synopsis : after a life-changing accident, yours and satoru's lives will never be the same. he's slowly beginning to forget you and soon, it will be as if your relationship never exisited.
⟡ content warning : gn!reader, angst, hurt no comfort
౨ৎ note : i've had idea in my google docs for over two years and it was originally for a genshin chara but i wanted to change it to satoru!
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when you had first heard what had happened, you hardly could believe it. some kind of weird illness that he’s suffering from after the accident. you had made it out with barely a scratch while god just continues to deal the worst hand to satoru.
survivors' guilt? no, because he’s still alive and he’s still himself, but he’s not himself.
you know that soon, instead of having love and adoration swell in his cerulean eyes, there will be nothing. not a thought about who you are, not a single memory about you.
the doctor described it as his brain resetting. he’s going to eventually lose all of his memories, including the ones before you.
everyone that knows of his condition isn’t taking it well, they’re all trying to spend as much time with him before he fades, but what about you?
you’ve never left his side since, you’ve accompanied him to every doctor's appointment, listened to all the specialists say the inevitable is going to happen and it just feels like they’re rubbing salt into an open wound.
the two of you have talked about it, terrified for the near future. years of memories that the two of you took the time to piece together like a puzzle will become one-sided. each hello, goodbye, kiss shared, spending friday nights together in your shared apartment, the hours spent together with your limbs intertwined, will all be erased.
as the months progressed, the more of satoru’s memories regressed. you both decided it would be best if he moved back in with his family, leaving you alone in a once warmth filled home to be an empty, cold shell.
initially, satoru would be the one to suggest that the two of you should visit places where the two of you have been together.
the park where you had your first date, the bookstore where you had your first kiss with each other, hiding behind the dozens of bookshelves with you giggling and satoru whispering teasing words into the shell of your ear.
eventually, the daily calls would stop. you would reach out by calling or texting and asking him if he’d want to eat dinner at the restaurant that the two of you ate at for your second anniversary and the reply would always be the same,
“sorry y/n, i’m just not up for it right now.”
the next time you called after that, there was no answer. the second time, still no answer. the third time, someone picked up.
“hey, i’m sorry but i think that you’ve been calling the wrong number.” a voice that was on the other side of the line. except there was no love in his words, no familiarity of warmth laced through his words. they were cold. empty. this was not your satoru.
“what? no? satoru, i don’t have the wrong number..”
“how do you know my name?”
“how do I know your name? satoru, we’re enga—-”
“ah, listen. i don’t know what kind of sick prank you think this is but please stop calling me. seriously, this is really uncomfortable. goodbye.”
oh.
so it happened.
he forgot.
satoru doesn’t remember you anymore. you knew it was going to happen, but you still had some sick, twisted maybe even selfish hope, that if he was going to forget everything, he’d at least be able to remember you.
unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way.
“life is unfair.” is what you thought after that moment. for months after that moment. it flooded every inch of your mind, coupled with the now one-sided memories you had with satoru.
but, you’re starting to heal, you’re starting to come to terms with it after nearly 12 months.
today, your therapist said that the next step for you should be visiting the places that you’ve been avoiding. every place that you had a memory with satoru with. so you decided that you’d visit the park.
you turn the corner to enter it and come face to face with geto.
“oh? geto? how have you been?” you ask.
geto looks around nervously, like he’s trying to search for something.
“i’ve been good, y/n. i was actually just thinking about you. let’s, uh, let’s go get a cup of coffee, it’s on me. we can catch up more there and talk about sa—-”
“suguru?”
you know that voice. the voice that had once told you that he loved you over a thousand times. the voice that would whisper you sweet nothings, the voice that caused heat to run all over your body. you freeze on the spot, already feeling your eyes sting with tears.
“whose this?” gojo asks, looking towards you. his face holds no recollection of who you are whatsoever.
“shit.” geto swears under his breath. “this is, um, this is my friend, y/n.”
“hello, it’s nice to meet you. i’m gojo, suguru’s close friend.”
you purse your lips, continuing to try and hold back tears.
“oh, i almost forgot,” satoru says.
and you look up into his eyes, with the smallest glimmer of hope that he’ll remember you. who you are, what you mean to him, the love you held for each other. god, please remember me, please.
“this is my fiancée, yume.”
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flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.
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totaly-obsessed · 6 months
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hiii! i love ur work so much!!!! i was wondering if i can request a kcc fic where she gets jealous hehehehehehe
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Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request
-> Kyra finds out that she is not the favorite aunt or girlfriend
-> Hope you like it Anon, even though you probably meant a different jealousy haha
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
The national break was always a welcome break from the daily club life, even if the World Cup was not that long ago. You had arrived together with the other Matilda’s that played in England. The plane journey was a long one, but one most of you were accustomed to by now.
Your plan for it? Sleeping. As much as you could. Trainers and mostly everybody you knew tried to tell you that it was bad, but you didn’t really listen – the want to sleep much too big.
Sam, your club teammate sat next to you, anxiously chewing her nails for most of the trip as she was one of the worst fliers you knew. Your captain was always thankful to sit next to you, as you calmed her down with your deep sleep and not a care in the world.
The two seats across from you were occupied by Mary and Kyra who were playing cards, bored out of their minds. Eventually, it was the new Arsenal signing who kicked your feet to wake you. “Huh? Are we there yet?” The two started laughing at your startled face and at how fast you had sat up in your seat. “No, still a while out. You’re playing cards with us.”
It wasn’t a question, Kyra knew that you would just roll your eyes and close them again, desperate for sleep. But she also knew that even you couldn’t resist her puppy eyes, so she batted her lashes at you, knowing that you would cave in.
The two of you had been dating for over a year now. Her joining Arsenal had been the best thing ever – you finally moved in together, which was quite hard with the midfielder playing in Sweden before. Even with the both of you on rival London teams, it was the best thing ever.
When in public Kyra might seem like the excited, touchy one when in private it was you who would simply refuse to let the brunette go, cuddling as close to her as you could. So whipped as you are, you played cards with them and even managed to get Sam to play as well.
“Man, I can’t wait to see Harps again. She grows so quickly.” This has been Kyra’s first time being away for such a long time from the toddler since meeting her. The two-year-old quickly found her way into all the Matilda’s hearts, helping the team relax after a long day, her gleeful giggles sounding through the halls of the facility. “Me neither, maybe she finally decides to be a striker.” Sam was back to consciousness, always happy to talk about the youngest team member – also distracting herself from flying. None of you could help but laugh, knowing that if little Harper decided to be a footballer one day, she would follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a midfielder.
The rest of the journey was long and hard, you were just happy to have Kyra at your side, knowing that you didn’t need to talk, the brunette filling the silence all by herself.
When the group of you arrived at the team hotel it was already late in the day but most of the Tillies that roamed the halls were excited to see each other again after a very successful World Cup. “Auntie Y/N!” A small body made its way through the sea of players, crashing into your open arms as you couched down, ready to hug her. “Harps!” Giggles filled the room as you threw her up in the air and caught her again.
You could feel Katrina’s watchful eyes on you but the short midfielder was never worried when Harper was with you. With Charlie and Kyra? Panic. But once you joined them? Everything was alright. It wasn’t like you were more mature, but the way you carried yourself; serious and careful when needed but you also knew how to have fun – the perfect combination.
“Harper look, Kyra’s here too!” Your girlfriend tried to get the girl's attention but she was much too busy playing with your hair, telling you the story of how her favorite stuffy had found its way to Australia. “Babe, I’ll go make out with Charls, yeah?” When you didn’t even react, the midfielder scoffed offended.
She just got replaced by a two-year-old.
Kyra didn’t know who she envied more. You for being Harper's favorite auntie, or Harper for having all your attention when in the same room.
Once back on the ground, the toddler grabbed your hand, swiftly pulling you out to a field, commanding you to grab a ball. The rest of the Matildas watched in awe as their very stoic teammate turned to mush once the tiny blonde shouted “Again!” signaling you to roll the ball to her so that she could kick it back.
“My girlfriend just got stolen.” The young Arsenal player’s mouth was wide open as Harper took you from her, in broad daylight. Harper kept pulling you out on the field further and further until you couldn’t hear the teasing anymore – not that you paid it any mind.
“Kyra just got replaced!” It was Mackenzie who started joking at their young teammate's expanse. “I still have an open room, should harper take your bed as well!” But it was Caitlin who caused the brunette to whine in defeat.
Katrina knew that you were up to no good when she saw you crouched on the floor, telling Harper something while pointing at the rest of the Matilda’s at the side of the pitch – a devious smile on your face.
Just a few short moments her daughter ran towards them, as fast as she could, arms wide open an excited smile on her face. “Auntie!” Kyra had now crouched down as well, copying your previous action, opening her arms as the small blonde raced directly toward her.
“C’mere Harps!” But Harper had a different plan, throwing herself on the ground as she army-crawled through the midfielder's legs – jumping into Alanna’s strong arms, who stood directly behind Kyra. The crowd erupted in laughter, as you made your way back to them, a sly smirk still on your lips, seeing your girlfriend's very prominent pout as Sam patted her back. “Not the favorite girlfriend, not the favorite aunt – Man, that’s gotta hurt."
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lemony-snickers · 11 months
Text
i am sorry but tummy touches are an underrated form of intimacy. like, even just the barest brush of fingertips beneath the hem of a shirt, you know? it's such a vulnerable part of the body - so many delicate organs, no bones to protect them. a part so many are self-conscious of. and whether made of firm muscle or soft tissue, it is delicate. easy to destroy.
and i imagine a shinobi is even more hyper aware of this. imagine kakashi gently redirecting your hands the first time you try to slip yours beneath his shirt as you cuddle on the couch early in your relationship. he's reading, probably, while you half-doze on top of him, listening to the reassuring rhythm of his steady heart against your ear, the gentle movement of his chest as it expands and then contracts, lulling you like the ocean tide.
you barely recognize the change in the tempo of his heartbeat, the way it skips and races a second before resettling. he threads his fingers with yours as he pulls your hand away, so you hardly notice what's happened, especially half-asleep.
but then it happens again. and again. and eventually when you walk up behind him in the kitchen and try to sneak your hands beneath his shirt as he washes your dinner dishes, you can't keep your curiosity at bay any longer and you ask, "is there a reason you don't want me to touch you there?"
and kakashi doesn't really know how to answer, exactly. technically, there's no reason for you not to. honestly, he doesn't even know why it makes him feel so squiggly inside. uncomfortable.
vulnerable.
so he just answers, "no," with a little bit more of a question mark than he meant to tack on the end and you stare at him a little, pondering the best way to proceed.
you decide on boldly, and step close, maintaining slightly too intense eye contact as you roughly shove your hand beneath his uniform shirt...
only to be met by chainmail, which snags against one of your fingers until you pull back with a slight yelp.
kakashi pales, eyes wide as he steps forward to cradle your hand. "sorry, shit, sorry, i forgot."
you frown, maybe pout a little. "you forgot you were wearing battle armor in the kitchen?" you ask, only half-skeptical. kakashi is a strange man, one with many habits ingrained from his time as the copy ninja of konoha. you don't pretend to understand all the things he does - hiding weapons scrolls in your couch cushions, keeping a spare pair of sandals on the window sill in his bedroom, always sitting with his back to the wall and never the window - but you don't question them. you know it's just part of who he is.
still. the chainmail is a little unexpected.
"isn't it heavy?"
kakashi has many laughs, and you've been lucky enough to hear almost all of them, now. this time, he offers that soft huff that puffs his mask out a little in front of his mouth. "old habits never die, it seems."
you chuckle, leaning up to kiss his cloth-covered cheek. "next time i try to be assertive, i'll be sure to ask if you've changed out of it first."
"probably a good idea."
kakashi wraps your finger in the bathroom, "just a precaution," he says when you protest. you let him even though you know it isn't necessary because you understand it's important to him to take care of you.
you thank him with another kiss, this time without his mask in the way, before he heads home.
the next time the two of you snuggle on the couch together, you don't try to reach beneath his shirt. as much as you want to - as much as you crave knowing what his body feels like beneath the thick, reinforced fabric of his uniform, you satisfy yourself with running your fingers over his clothed chest, tracing concentric circles while you daydream and kakashi reads.
the snap of his book closing draws your attention and you twist yourself to look at him. "are you hungr--"
you never finish your sentence because, faster than you can ask the question, kakashi has grabbed your hand and guided it beneath the hem of his shirt with swift purpose.
he isn't wearing chainmail this time, and all your palm is met with is warm, soft skin, broken in place by what you assume are scars you haven't yet seen. you flex your fingers, drag your fingertips over his abdomen until he shivers.
"ticklish, huh?" you tease, "good to know."
kakashi only hums.
you can feel his own fingers dancing across your hip, sliding from your upper thigh to your ribs and back again like he's trying to decide what to do.
you gasp very gently when his hand slips beneath, goosebumps springing to life across your skin in the wake of his calloused touch. you sigh, nuzzle your face into his chest as you both relax into the embrace - so similar to your usual cuddling position, and yet suddenly more intimate.
a step forward, something which often comes so painfully slow in your relationship with the stoic and reserved kakashi hatake.
you listen closely to his heart this time, relishing the way it sometimes speeds when you let your hand drift higher, toward his clavicle - or lower, toward his waistband - knowing your own heart hammers just the same as kakashi's hand dances over your belly, grazes your hip bone; your nerves all alight, blood racing.
you're ready for more, and hopefully he will be soon, too. for now, though, you're content to map with your fingers all the scars you plan to lavish wish kisses when the time comes.
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mgc02 · 3 months
Note
Yayyy! Vox was who I wanted to make a request for so I was thinking what if female reader is an overlord who deals with weapons that can kill sinners and hellborn. Maybe she is also an owner of a nightclub? maybe she died in the 1920s and she knew Alastor as well and maybe she’s had a crush on him but he’s not interested in her so then she goes and she dates Vox but then she catches him positioned with Val and she doesn’t know the extent how Valentino is abusing Vox so then fast forward 7 years later and they meet again because she’s helping Alastor and of course that makes Vox jealous and angry and Vox just wants her back and he’ll do anything to show her that he changed and he just wants her back. And maybe he explains how Val treated him and then a happy ending heheh. 🤭 Also maybe reader is badass and is like doesn’t need a man because she got herself but she also loves when Vox protects her? Kinda like that song on TikTok from Olivia Rodrigo that goes “I’m a feminist obviously but I wouldn’t really mind him saving me”
I'm not on tik tok a lot so I gave that song a listen and DANG she sang fast. Love the beat. Never heard anything like it
Sorry this took so long. I was having a lot of technical issues but I got them resolved.
CW: minor spoilers, swearing, suggestiveness, cheating, mentions of abuse
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Vox x Fem!reader
You were an overlord that was well known in hell for selling powerful weapons. You did most of your business through your night club. You did meetings in a separate room. Hell was full of some sexist scum bags and perverts and you were used to running into them occasionally. They would underestimate you and you would quickly make them regret it. Female overlords had to do that sometimes. Even though you dealt with firearms capable of killing sinners and hellborns alike, you weren't afraid to get your hands dirty and you could definitely handle yourself. A frequent visitor of your classy establishment was an old friend Alastor.
You two knew each other when you were alive and you stayed acquainted after death. He was always impressed with how tough you were and loved how you shared a love for the 1920s classy aesthetic which you used as the style of your night club. It was designed to look like an old speakeasy. And although it didn't normally serve sinners as a main dish Alastor grew rather fond of coming there. You kinda hoped it was you that he was there to see. He was handsome, and charming, and stylish and he could really make you laugh sometimes. (And blush.) He even asked you to dance sometimes but you were unsure whether that was just him being a gentleman or if he had romantic intentions. Eventually your crush on the radio demon grew hard to ignore and though you didn't wanna ruin your friendship you decided it was time to confess your feelings. He was taken back by it a bit.
You were surprised since you were getting terrible at hiding it. He told you he was not interested in that sort of thing but he valued your friendship. Of course initially you were crushed and embarrassed but you actually moved on from it faster than you expected. You decided to focus on your work though as expected you were a bit awkward around Alastor after that. So you decided to distance yourself from him a bit until you were ready. You were of course invited to overlord meetings. So when you got an invitation to meet on short notice you actually were pleased for a distraction. You had the time so you made your way there. When you arrived you found that there was few that could make it. Alastor was not even present. Oddly enough you hadn't seen him in a while. You wondered if he decided to distance himself as well. Maybe he was more bothered by it than you thought.
The only people present were Zilla who was a very large feathered Dino overlord, Carmella who usually hosted these meetings and also sold weapons, and one of the Vees... Vox actually. You weren’t very fond of the guy who was your friend's biggest rival so you tried to sit yourself far away from him. You sat next to Carmilla although you guys were competitors, you kept things civil. Unlike Alastor and Vox. She thanked you for all for coming on such short notice. The conversation was going productively despite the very few people present. It was strange though as you felt a feeling of eyes on you.
You turned to catch a certain TV headed demon staring at you. As soon as he realized he was caught he turned away quickly. You wondered if he had stared at you like that before despite how little he came to these meetings himself. He usually sent Velvette. And Valentino had never been to one as far as you knew so you knew practically nothing about him. As you were lost in thought, you ended up staring back at him. As soon as he noticed was when you snapped back into reality and embarrassedly turn your head away blushing. This gave Vox the confidence he needed. He started openly flirting with you at the meeting. you were feeling embarrassed, pissed off and a tad bit flustered. 3 things that when combined made your brain malfunction as you poorly tried to keep your cool. Your reaction only encouraged him more. Luckily the meeting ended soon after that.
As you walked down the sidewalk, you realized he was following you. He told you he had liked for a long time but never had the guts to make a move until he caught you staring today. This was an oddly vulnerable moment for him and as you looked in his eyes you saw he was sincere. you agreed to go out with him. you guys took things slow at first but it eventually became a deep and passionate relationship. He had walls that came down when it was just the two of you. His persona and exaggerated ego disappeared to reveal and sweet and humble gentleman. He could be very protective of you sometimes. Which you sorta liked. Even though you could handle yourself, you didn't mind his protective behavior. It was actually kinda hot.
though you thought it was odd that you still hadn't formally met his business partners. you didn't know much about them especially Valentino. You tried not to question it much. Both of you being overlords with businesses could sometimes make you too busy to see each other. He seemed stressed and overworked lately. So, you decided to surprise him by visiting him at work. You slipped on something nice (and slipped on something naughty underneath) and went to see him. you were he told he might be on the top floor so you took the elevator. And when the door opened... you saw Vox... underneath what you could only assume was Valentino. It didn't take you long to figure out what they were doing. You ignored Vox's pleas and attempts to stop you as you left in tears.
You devoted yourself to your work after that. Deciding you didn't need a man in your life at all. And for seven years things went well. Then one day, Alastor resurfaced. He actually showed up at your club, casually acting like he had been gone less than a day. He went and struck up a conversation with you. You tried to stay mad at him, you really did. But you missed him. And that bastard put on the charm to get in your good graces. Before you knew it you were agreeing to help him run a hotel for sinners he was working on with princess of hell. You after all owned a business yourself so you had plenty of knowledge to offer.
Your involvement with Alastor caught Vox's attention. He was already furious about Alastor's return but hearing you were working with him made his blood boil. He decided he was going to find a way to talk to you. He was going to tell you the truth. He was going to make things right.
When you went out to lunch by yourself you were caught off guard when your long time ex sat across from you. He refused to leave until you heard him out. Vox had never used his powers of hypnosis on you (as far as you knew) but you were still weary so you refused to look him in the eye as you reluctantly listened.
He told you Valentino was an extremely dangerous unstable person and was often abusive. Val knew that Vox was seeing you and was actually jealous at how much time he spent with you instead of him. He threatened to hurt you if Vox ever left him for you. And at the time, Vox didn't feel he was strong enough to protect you. He also knew that if he told you any of this that you were the type to try and pick a fight with Val. And he was afraid you would get hurt. But, he promised that this time he was going to end things with Val once and for all. His power had grown a lot recently and he believed he was strong enough now to cut off Val completely. You looked at him after hearing all this and saw the same vulnerable and sincere expression that convinced you to believe him on that first day. You agreed to give it another try but only if there were no more secrets and you guys were a team. He promised and you two embraced. You were ready now to face whatever struggles came your way together.
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bonny-kookoo · 4 months
Text
Jungkook/platonic!OT7
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 [Part 4: Skies]
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In which you realize that you're no longer alone.
Main tags/Warnings: Werewolf!Jungkook, Werewolf!Bangtan, strangers/enemies to lovers, romantic Jungkook x reader, Platonic bangtan x reader, eventual smut, mentions of past emotional/psychological manipulation, hurt and comfort, fluff!, some Angst, mostly fluff tho
Length: 5k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: hi I really like this fic and I refuse to let it end up in the basement
🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲
You've become rather stubborn and even after consulting a specialist- you just refuse to take any of the meds despite Jungkook's clear advice to take them for now. And while he can understand you, somewhat, there are simply consequences to that choice you made.
"I'll leave your groceries in front of your door then." He says with a sigh, and you feel yourself sit straighter now at the other end of the call. "It's probably not a good idea for me to actually come inside if you're off your meds-" he begins, and you panic.
"I can just take them right now!" You hurry out, not wanting to be alone. "I can take them now, and you.. come back later? I don't know.." You mumble, and Jungkook fights a little with himself as he walks into the hallway of your apartment building to enter the elevator, finger of the hand that's holding the plastic bag pressing the right button. "I don't want to be alone.." You say, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in front of your door.
"Listen, I know, trust me I get it." He says. "But I'm not sure what the effect of me might be on you right now." He admits. "You might feel like you want me close right now, but once I'm there that could instantly change. Those mood swings can be wild, I'm telling you!" He laughs, attempting to change your mind.
"...how do you know?" You wonder quietly, though you're not sure if you want to know the answer to that. Of course he's probably been with other wolves in the past. Pretty ones who know themselves well and are proud and all that. Maybe he's seeing someone right now. You wouldn't be surprised- he's pretty handsome and a nice guy too.. one would be stupid to pass up on an opportunity to date him. Do wolves even date? Or do they just kind of.. live in a pack?
What do wolf-relationships look like? And why do you even think about that with him? He's clearly just your friend, nothing more than that.
"My mom is an omega." Jungkook cuts through your thoughts. "And trust me, she kicks me out randomly whenever I visit unannounced just because she can't stand my alpha-smell!" He laughs, but you're quiet. Of course his parents are wolves too. Yours were one's too- but you'll never have that at all. You'll never have that kind of family that Jungkook has. And even if he was interested in you, what would his parents even think of you?
A girl that was hidden away because her own stepmother was ashamed of what she was. Who'd want that?
"Hey." Jungkook speaks through the phone, before he knocks on your door. "Let's.. maybe you can take a peak and decide if you can handle it?" He offers as a compromise, and you get up to answer the door, unsure what he's talking about since you don't feel anything at all the moment you crack the door open to look at him dressed in a leather jacket.
And then it hits you, and you know exactly what he meant- though not in the way he explained it.
You're basically salivating at the thought of having him close- and it's not at all in any sexual sense whatsoever. Just the sight of him makes you feel like you're starving, like you're gonna pass out if he's not holding you up any second now, and he visibly seems to understand as he gently pushes the door a bit further open. "You can kick me out any time." He reassures you. "Won't be mad at all, promise." Jungkook makes sure you know, and you nod, stepping back reluctantly to let him inside.
You feel like a creep. He could literally have a girlfriend and you're here acting like he's your long lost army husband coming home from war!
"I bought all that you said you needed, and some extra things, just in case." He explains as he sets the bag down in the kitchen, before he turns, probably some of his senses tingling or something as you simply nod at him, avoiding eye contact. He doesn't really elaborate on what 'just in case' means- but you're also not in the mood for any of it, body not feeling like your own at the moment. "You know, it's okay to give in." He chuckles. Considering you've not kicked him out yet, and going after your scent alone, he knows exactly what you're struggling with.
"No.. I- I don't want to overstep some boundary, you know.." You shrug to yourself. "I know.. I know I wouldn't want my boyfriend to like, cuddle with some stranger girl in her apartment and all that.." You begin, before you cringe. "Oh god I don't know why I brought that up I'm sorry-"
"It's completely fine, really." He laughs. "And understandable. Omegas tend to be pretty physical most of the time- nothing wrong with that." Jungkook explains. "And- I also don't have a girlfriend right now, so no worries there either." The wolf tells you, making you nod a bit awkwardly.
You feel nauseous even though you've actually taken at least the minimum of your medication before he came, just out of panic. It's like you're going to cry and sob and throw a tamper tantrum if he's not getting close in the next few minutes. This is stupid. How long will it take for your dumb pills to take effect and make you normal again?
What even is normal at this point?
Jungkook moves to shed his jacket, a wave of his scent hitting you so much it makes you have to adjust your position a little as to not sway and fall over, and if he noticed he chooses not to comment on it, simply leading you towards something he's already spotted.
Your couch is covered in blankets and pillows and sweaters even. You're nesting, and you probably have no idea you're even doing it.
"I have to cook though-" you weakly argue, absolutely his slave however as he sits down in the blanket mess with you, helping you to lean closer to him- and the moment you catch his scent so strong, you're a goner, all shame thrown out the window as you pretty much push him onto his back to lay on him, arms and legs around him to keep him close and immobile- but all he does is laugh a little under his breath and grab a stray blanket thrown over the back of the couch to put it over your back. He moves a bit to adjust the things underneath his head and back a bit, but he soon settles, hand on your back running up and down in a soothing motion.
It's not all that bad actually, at least not when he's around like this.
You can feel how heightened your senses are like this- from your hearing to your sense of smell and even taste, somehow the tips of your fingers feel more sensitive to touch just as much. "...will I ever get used to it?" You worry, and Jungkook nods.
"I'm sure of it." He agrees optimistically. "And I'll be there every step of the way." Jungkook promises, making you cling just a little closer to him.
And as you fall asleep, he can't help but think just how good you feel in his arms like this, safe and protected-
and most of all warm, as your scent lulls him to sleep as well.
🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲
When you wake up a few hours later, it seems like you're getting a taste of what Jungkook's wolf behaviour can actually look like if he's not awake enough to really control himself like he does whenever he’s typically around you these days.
Because the moment you attempt to get up, a growl leaves him, rumbling from deep within his chest- a warning for you to stay put, as he instead moves around a bit with his arms around you, and at this point, it's his body that almost entirely covers yours, as if to hide you away beneath him. There's no sexual intentions, that much is clear- and it also, surprisingly, doesn't scare you.
Like a voice is there, deep down in the back of your brain, telling you that this isn't something to be panicking about.
But you really need to go use the bathroom, bladder screaming for you to get up and relieve yourself- so you slip out under his arms, before you rush to enter the small room, closing the door behind you. It’s odd how.. Good you feel with him in your home, like there’s nothing to worry about at all as long as he’s here. Even the thought of your potential future to come doesn’t appear as scary as it usually does.
He’d told you you’ll be part of his pack if you end up failing your evaluation. So you’ll be fine, right?
Will Namjoon even accept you? He appeared to be very friendly, so he might. But there’s always a potential that having a female in the group could prove to be too difficult to handle. Would Jungkook stay with you in that case? Or at least help you find another pack that wants you?
You’re drying your hands after washing them when you hear something fall in the living room, opening the bathroom door to take a look- when Jungkook exhales in relief at the sight of you, visibly distressed. “Something wrong?” You wonder, and he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair to sort himself.
“No- no no, just.. Some stupid instinct stuff, don’t worry about it.” He laughs off, though you can see how he fidgets around still, so you walk a little closer, unsure.
“I.. Uhm, can I help you?” You ask, and he looks up at that, a bit confused. “I mean, you look a little.. I don’t know. I feel like I should do something to help you..” You mumble, and at that, his expression softens.
“It’s called nurturing instinct.” He explains. “Common with wolves of your subgender. But uh.. Mostly towards, you know.. Young wolves or..” He fidgets around a bit again, before he plays with his lip piercing. “..or.. towards mates.” He shrugs, as if he doesn’t care- but he does a horrible job at masking his emotions.
“Oh.” You simply answer, a bit surprised. “Does one like.. Choose a mate? Or is it some sort of..” Jungkook laughs a little, walking towards the mess of blankets on the couch with you, where you instantly hide your legs beneath the soft fabrics, Jungkook doing the same before his hands reach out to help you adjust the blankets.
“It’s not some magical soulmate thing.” He chuckles. “People believe it is, but it’s not.” He shrugs. “It’s just a combination of.. Emotional connection and some instincts sprinkled in. Really not that different from regular relationships.” He explains to you, and you nod.
“So because I like you, I want to.. Take care of you?” You wonder, and he nods, before his head snaps towards you, as if he just realized what you said. “What?”
“Nothing!” He barks out almost, looking away. “Just uh.. I like you too. So, that’s why I got.. Kind of clingy earlier when we were asleep.” He mumbles.
“Oh. It didn’t actually bother me at all.” You make sure to tell him. “Just.. I needed to pee, so that’s why I kind of ran off like that.” You giggle, visibly making him relax again.
“I was about to apologize the hell out of that situation.” He laughs. “I- it’s something my pack is a bit worried about. I’m not just a standard alpha after all, and neither are you just an omega. So they wonder if I could become a bit too much for you to handle, considering your situation.” He admits.
“Your pack cares too.” You shrug, and he nods. “I appreciate that. I.. don’t know why I’m so calm now, I think it’s probably some sort of instinct stuff since you’re here-” You say, before you get comfortable under all the blankets again. “-but I feel.. A lot more calm about all of this.”
“Yeah that might just be.. Well, me.” He laughs, watching you get comfortable next to him. “I tend to have that effect on people. Even my own pack.” Jungkook explains, settling down as well now.
There’s a bit of silence between the two of you, a moment Jungkook uses to watch you for a little bit, especially the way you seem to look at his hands with a bit of longing almost. “We should.. Practice for my evaluation.” You mumble, but he just chuckles.
“We got time.” He softly disagrees. “Right now I want to.. Figure out what kind of ‘liking’ you were talking about earlier.” He teases, leaning his head on the backrest of the couch while you whine in complaint, squirming a bit. “Come on, you can tell me! I wanna know.” Jungkook presses, and you huff.
“...it’s probably just.. Your smell or something.” You deny, but he grins impishly.
“Just told you though, it doesn’t work like that.” He laughs. “If you’re not sure yet I get it- but I’d like to know if there’s.. At least some sort of connection that you feel towards me. So I know where I’m at.” The wolf shrugs. “Or rather what I can aim at.”
“Aim?” You wonder.
“In terms of, if it’s okay for me to.. Approach you romantically.” He admits.
“Would you.. Want that?” You ask, and he nods.
“But only if you’re okay with it too.” Jungkook makes sure to let you know. “Right now, I’m not head over heels or anything like that. Just.. Interested. You seem like the kind of girl I’d be happy with.” He admits. “But if you don’t have any interest in me like that, that’s cool too. I’ll simply be your friend then.” He explains to you, and you nod.
“I.. I like you.. Like that. But I don’t want something like.. Right now.” You admit.
“Alright, fair.” He nods. “Wasn’t going to jump you right here and now anyways. Just wanted to know where you’d like to go with me.” He shrugs.
“Is it okay if we like.. Take it slow?” You ask, and he nods.
“Absolutely.” the wolf agrees, and at that, you calm down, visibly so- making him relax as well as he settles down with you, holding you close beneath the numerous blankets on the couch.
Falling asleep with you just a little longer, because you’ve got time, after all.
🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲
“What’s this all about?” You ask, as the employee closes the door to the room, leaving you alone with a wolf you’re not familiar with.
Jungkook has told you he’d like to ask his pack to help prepare you for both your upcoming evaluation, and for what’s to come in general- and you agreed to let them help you, which brought you into todays situation. Min Yoongi has tagged along with Jungkook to a training center specializing in instinct control and helps young wolves practice around in a safe environment. It also offers some specific physical therapy for elderly that struggle with shifting- and you feel oddly taken care of here, everything looking very inviting, bright and clean.
“Jungkook will be watching from the outside.” Yoongi tells you, nodding towards what appears to be a mirror- but is actually a one-way window.
“Why isn’t he here?” You worry a little, sitting down in the middle of the room like the instructor had explained to you earlier. You’re wearing simple clothing- just a top, comfortable leggings, socks, no shoes. You had to take off all jewellery and accessories outside, just like the wolf sitting in front of you with a good amount of distance.
There’s no furniture inside here. The walls and the floor are padded. Insulated. Scratch-resistant, as the employee had told you with pride.
“Because this won’t be pleasant.” Yoongi says with honesty.
“What’s.. Gonna happen to me?” You ask timidly. You actualy appreciate how honest and upfront Yoongi is- he seems very rough and nonchalant, but you like that he’s not masking his words or emotions.
It’s comforting.
“It’s different for everyone.” He explains. “The only thing you need to keep in mind is that nothing is going to happen to you.” The wolf offers. “You won’t be harmed. You can’t die here. You’re safe.” He tells you, when a short tune plays, signalling an announcement.
“We’ll begin the training now. Please try and stay relaxed.” The instructor says, and you look at Yoongi uneasy, a very faint sound being emitted from a corner before it stops again.
It’s quiet between the two of you. You’re not sure what you’re training for, right now.
Suddenly, you feel weird. Your muscles ache, as if you’ve sat in an odd position all day, bones stiff as you shiver a little. You’re not cold, but your fingers still tingle as if you’ve been holding ice all day- lips becoming dry. “You can move freely, by the way.” Yoongi offers, voice a lot gentler now. “Everyone deals with this differently.”
“Deals with what differently?” You ask, adjusting your legs a little before you arch your back, unable to get rid of that odd unease you have in your limbs.
“Shifting.”
Your eyes snap towards him, and he even cracks a smile for a second, before he adjusts his own position a bit. “You won’t be actually shifting right now, don’t worry.” He reassures you. “But you will feel like it. Or at least, it’ll feel similar.” He offers.
You’re standing up now. Pacing. You can’t stand still.
Whatever it is, it’s making you feel like your clothes are itchy, burning in every spot they touch your skin. You’re trembling too, as if you’re freezing- but you don’t feel cold at all, if anything, it’s the opposite. You run your hands through your hair. For some reason it bothers you, makes you want to pull it out from your scalp.
Tears knock at the backs of your eyes. Why do you feel like crying?
“Why- why do you not.. React at all?” You ask, trying to distract yourself. Yoongi shrugs.
“I’ve been shifting for years. I’m used to it.” He offers. “It’s not like I don’t feel it. I just handle it better.”
You take a deep breath, remembering what he’d told you. You’re fine, you’ll be okay, nothing is going to happen to you.
“Jungkook is probably just as fidgety as you right now.” The alpha chuckles.
“Why?” You wonder, walking around aimlessly before your entire situation gets worse. You don’t know this, but on the other side of the room’s one-way window, you’re very much constantly watched by both Jungkook, and trained staff to make sure you’re alright. Your vitals are being measured.
You’re safe, just like Yoongi said.
Though Jungkook still feels oddly uneasy watching you like that, the way you begin to cry from the sheer discomfort you feel, instincts so clear now as you walk towards a corner to rest your back against it, curling up on yourself with your backside against the wall. He wants to comfort you, help you feel better, but he knows it’s better like this. They won’t put you through the full course today- just a taste, to ease you into things.
You’re doing great already. He feels oddly proud almost.
Yoongi watches you from his spot, looking almost completely unfazed by it all. What he does do however is slowly approach you as you whimper to yourself, curled up into a ball as you try and fight this all on your own. Jungkook watches as the wolf in the room with you sits right in front of you, gaining your attention.
“You’re not alone.” He tells you, making you watch him while your head feels ready to burst open like a balloon. “and it would be the smartest decision to realize that now.”
“...why.” You ask, barely heard.
“Because the help you need is right in front of you.” He says, and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying. So, as you slowly open up a bit more, you let yourself just exist.
Jungkook is right. The only way to face this properly, is to accept it all first and foremost.
And so you let your instincts do their thing, as Yoongi seems to instantly catch onto it, opening his arms to accept you clinging to him. It’s normal omega behavior- the company and affection of packmates ease a lot of pain and anxieties, and you feel it right now, too, as you let him hold you.
It doesn’t magically make this experience easy- but it makes it definitely more manageable.
The second the training is over, you feel immediate relief- something hissing in the corners of the room, and it’s as if you can finally breathe fresh air again, throbbing head finally easing up. You basically melt into a puddle of tired muscle and he’s quick to hold you, surprisingly comforting as he watches the door open to let in Jungkook.
“Hey.” He softly tells you, and you reach out to him- though you stay close go Yoongi as well, somewhat surprised how Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind at all. Maybe because they’re friends? Maybe that’s why there’s no obvious jealousy.? “you did great.” He praises, and you lean back from Yoongi to compose yourself again, wiping your cheeks in embarrassment.
“..that was.. odd.” You mumble, and Jungkook helps you stand up again, both wolves leading you out the room to have one last checkup before you leave again. “so that’s.. somewhat what shifting will feel like?” You ask a nurse, who laughs.
“a little. It’s not quite the same- but the simulation is the best we have to prepare you for it.” She explains, while she checks your vitals. “and considering that you have a pack, you’ll do just fine. The first time is always scary.” She smiles, looking at Jungkook who happily nods, while Yoongi has his back turned towards you.
Back home, by yourself, you let the entire day run through you once more. From the feelings in the room, to the way Yoongi soothed you, up towards Jungkook driving you back home- things are so much different than what you thought wolves would live like. This feels a lot more intertwined and connected than your own family life ever did- why would your mother keep that from you?
Maybe you’ll call her, in the future. To ask her why she took care of you even if she knew what you were. To question why she would even involve herself with a child like you were if she hated wolves so much.
But not today.
And not tomorrow, either.
🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲
This is embarrassing.
You can’t sleep. You keep waking up, windows open or windows closed, you feel watched, chased, never safe. And the worst is when you actually do end up asleep, you dream of Jungkook, and the pack, and then you wake up and realize you’ve barely slept half an hour even.
Your eyes sting whenever you close them. You feel drained, and it’s not even three in the morning.
Are they still awake too? Probably not. They all have their routines down, their a pack, a family, something you can only really fantasize about. What if you’ll disrupt that peace and quiet they have established for themselves? Sure, Jungkook didn’t seem to mind you clinging to Yoongi yesterday, but what about the rest of his fanily- surely this will just end in disaster.
You sit up in bed. You can’t sleep.
You turn on a documentary on your phone to watch, but it really doesn’t help much to force you into slumber- if anything, the screen just starts to give you a headache, so you stop the video after not even twenty minutes in. This is stupid. You never had issues sleeping- so why now?
You’re only taking half the dosage of your medication that you used to get. And this dose will be cut in half by the end of the month as well, to slowly prepare you for the time when you’ll be off of them entirely.
You already have pamphlets and little books about the changes to come- from your first instincts pushing through, to other.. intimate things, such as how your periods will change, and what to expect from your first heat. It’s a lot to take in, really, and while doing your research these days, you realized just how complex the world of a werewolf really is. From specialized hotels that care for lone wolves during their heats, to other programs helping single packless wolves stay healthy in mind and soul. Weekly social activities, phone counseling, personal health care just for wolves without a pack make you feel oddly comforted.
You’re not alone. That’s the slogan almost all these companies use on their ads.
Maybe you should make an appointment soon. Just to have things figured out- and so that Jungkook doesn’t feel like his pack has to take you in. Sure, You like him, and it’s clear that he likes you too, but is that enough? Can wolves from different packs even be together?
There’s so much you still need to learn. Just thinking about it makes your head spin.
Your phone vibrates with a message. You tap on it, to see the sender- Jungkook- still online.
‘Hey, just wanted to check in if you’re alright.’ Is written, and you reply.
‘Yeah, why do you ask?’ You respond with, and he instantly starts to type on the other end.
‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He sends you. ‘neither could Yoongi, and then I saw you were online half an hour ago’ he continues. ‘so I figured you must be still up’
‘I can’t sleep.’ You admit, and at that, your phone vibrates with an incoming call from him.
“Why didn’t you say so?” He yawns, and you’re a bit confused. “Yoongi said you’ve been up since around one or two AM.” He chuckles.
“How does he know?” You wonder astonished, when the lower voice answers.
“I was working, and saw you online multiple times.” He chuckles. “It’s not rocket science.”
“Oh.” You mumble, realizing that it was actually pretty reasonable. He was probably texting with someone and checked up on you as well- but that doesn’t explain why Jungkook seems to know as well. “But wait, why can’t Jungkook sleep?” You ask.
“Because we’ve bonded more than you did with Yoongi.” He replies. “it’s like.. an instinct you could say. I could sense something off.” He tells you, and you just take it in. All of this is so complex and difficult to understand sometimes.
“Its most likely the stress from yesterday.” Yoongi reassures. “either that, or your instincts are pushing through. You’re an omega- they don’t do well on their own.” He bluntly states, while you hear some clicking from a computer mouse. “did you not tell her she could sleep here as well?”
“What, no I did!” Jungkook defends himself. “I think? Wait, I did tell you, right?” He asks you now, and you think for a second.
“uhm.. I don’t think so?” You answer. “but even so, I wouldn’t want to intrude-“
“Jungkook are you a whelp?” yoongi is heard scolding.
“I forgot!” He defends himself. “hey- okay so, you can really sleep here as well, it’s no bother, believe me.” Jungkook tells you now. “Namjoon was actually wondering why you aren’t here yet. His cousin is an omega too, so he knows how to handle a lot of stuff.” He explains.
“Wouldn’t it be.. awkward?” You ask, hesitating.
“Tripping in public is awkward, yet millions of people do it everyday.” Yoongi answers stoically. “if you want to stay here, stay here. If you don’t, don’t. We wouldn’t be offering it if we wouldn’t be okay with you.” Yoongi explains, and oddly enough, it helps you feel better.
“..is there anything specific I should take along with me?” You start, when Jungkook cuts you off.
“I’ll help you pack your stuff-“ he starts, when something clattering is heard. “what?”
“Jungkook you dog, it’s four in the morning!” Yoongi whines. “You’re going to wake up the whole pack!” He complains, when a door is heard opening. “see? Now Jimin is awake and that means the entire woods know about it!”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!” the new voice argues, before he laughs. “I’m just curious, you’re acting like spies in here.”
“did you- Jimin, you left the door open!” Yoongi complains. “and the stupid kid left his phone here too..” he sighs, while you can’t help but laugh.
“Well, at least she’s having fun.” Jimin giggles along.
“For now. Wait until she finds out Jungkook snores in his sleep.” Yoongi teases.
“Hey, it’s not that bad!” Jungkook complains, making them laugh as their voices fade into the background, the wolf having taken back his phone after having grabbed the car keys. “I’m gonna come over now, and we can either nap first and pack later, or pack first and nap later.” He tells you.
“Its.. thank you.” You tell him.
“No problem.” He answers easily.
“you’re not alone.”
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323 notes · View notes
ellaa-writes · 7 months
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The Beast Within
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author note: Part 1. Part 2 here. I wrote something close to this story on my first blog but I decided to redo it and maybe make it into a series? Anyways Alpha König is back! Alpha König headcanon can be found here. Will help with understanding this König. masterlist
summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.
tags: 18+ only, slightly dub-con/non-con. Kidnapping vibes, Alpha/Omega dynamics. Female reader Mentions of alcohol and blood. Marking/biting. This is an Alternative Universe (which will be expanded). No smut in this but their will be eventual smut. vague mentions of nudity. Not proof read.
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This was dangerous but it was exhilarating. The adrenaline coursing through your body gave you the sweetest high. You were in a packed night club somewhere in central Europe. The special blend of herbs and modern day pharmaceuticals that your best friend Kalina gave to you earlier, helping to mask your true identity. You were an Omega, which is very rare in this day and age. And there had to be at least hundreds of Alphas packed into this dimly lit club, bodies grinding on bodies. The musky smell and loud music filling the air.
Your friends got a private table on the 2nd floor, above the dance floor you were currently looking down on. You should be at home, preparing for you next heat that is only a couple of days away. But you've had a rough week at work, wanting nothing more but to feel the buzzing numbness from the alcohol. Turning back to your friends, one of them sliding a shot glass in your direction. Grabbing it and holding it in that air with the others. Bringing it to your lips and savouring the burning liquid. Joining the rest in slamming the small glass back in the table. One of your friends already trying to flag the bottle girl down for another round of shots. You sink was feeling warm and sticky, the alcohol doing its job. You closed you eyes for a second, enjoying the music and the vibration it sent through your body. But there was something else, something different.
It began creeping up your slow spine, goosebumps forming in its path up to the back of your neck. Where it bit down and stung, your reflexes acting out you touched your neck. Trying to find any indication you were bitten, but there was nothing. That strange feeling was sitting heavy in your stomach, it was either the 3 shots and 2 margheritas you had or the world was about to end. You slowly turned back towards the dance floor, but it wasn't down below. It was sitting across, in another private section. His eyes were burning flames of ember staring into you with such a fierceness that it scared you a bit. Your best friend reached out touching your arm which snapped you out of the trance you were in. Bringing you back to your surroundings. She looked at you with concern "You feeling ok?" she began rubbing her hand up and down your arm. You gave her a smile, nodding you head "Yeah, yes... I'm good. Just getting a little warm that's all." you let her know. A few of your friends began cheering when the server brought over another tray of shots. Making you and her to laugh, joining in and grabbing the glass from the tray before it was lifted away." Hold on, wait up. I just wanted to say, that I love you all so much and let's all hopefully get laid tonight. Alright, good!" Meave said, she was the oldest out of your group. Her gorgeous red hair danced around her shoulders while she did her speech, looking right into your eyes when she mention getting laid. Which made you blush, feeling a little embarrassed that she even said that. But it wouldn't be true to Meave. Her and Kalina are cousins, after meeting Kalina in year 1 you three became inseparable. "Oh don't listen to her babe." another one of your other friends whispered into your ear, making you giggle. You took the shot, setting the glass back down. You all but almost forgot about the stranger staring you down. But another stinging bite at the base of your neck, making you jump and yulp out of shock. Kalina and Maeve looking at you with concern. "I think something bit me" you yelled out, making a few of them laugh. You didn't notice it, when Kalina found the same eyes you saw earlier. The same uneasy feeling washed over her, she knew what he was. She could feel the power radiating off of the Alpha, but he wasn't just any ordinary Alpha. He was an Apex Alpha, she knew you were in danger. Apex Alphas were stronger than a normal Alpha, not just in psychical strength but mentally too. Their senses highented, making them damn nearly a God. At one point in history they were viewed as the closest thing to a demi-God, many believing they were the most special, having the blood and DNA of the gods running through them.
She grabbed you arm quickly standing up and pulling you up with her. Laughing you asked her "What's going on" trying to balance in the heals that Meave borrowed to you. "We need to go, like right now." she began pulling you towards the stairs, ignoring the calls from the others. She lead you down the steps, through the bodies and to the entrance of the club. "Hold up, Kalina. What the hell is going on." you tried pulling back, to slow her down but her grub only got stronger while she dragging through the exit and out onto the street. "Hey Kalina, talk to me." you tried getting in front of her. Trying to get her attention, but Kalina was in flight mode. Searching the street for any sign of taxi, when she found one she marched right over with you still in tow. Banging in the front passenger window, catching the driver off guard. "Are you running?" she asked quickly, the driver bossing his head and unlocking the door. "Hurry, get in. Quickly." she said while opening the back seat door and shoving you in. "Kalina what the fuck is going on." you asked while she closed the door. Reaching for the window down button. "Please get home and lock up immediately. I'll tell you later." she told you. She then went back to the front window and gave the driver your address before he quickly pulled away from the street and towards the direction of your small apartment.
You sat in the back seat, confused and starting to feel sick. The alcohol turning into bricks in your stomach.
Kalina watched has the taxi drove away, praying you'd get home safe and listen to her and lock up. Hoping that the Alpha would lose your sent. She turned back towards the club, noticing the Alpha storming out. His nose high in the air, sniffing you out. His eyes snapped towards her, her own fear taking over. She should have gotten in the car with you, but now she's in the path between a angry honey alpha and sweet omega pussy. She always pittied you, when you were young and coming into puberty. She could smell the changes happening to you, they were different than hers. She was a simple beta, but you became an omega. She knew the rarity of it, she also knew the risk of began one. Many of the omega being snatched up, nothing more than breeding machines to produce more alphas, female or male. She began helping you mask your smell at a young age and disguising yourself as a beta.
Sticking her head up high and ignoring the heated look he was giving her. She began to make her way back inside, but not before being pulled to the side by a pair of very thick solid fingers. The alpha had her corned, looking down at her. His nostrils flaring with anger, his chest rising and falling. He was trying to control himself, trying to push the animal that was inside him down. "Where is she." he said in between breaths. Kalina yanked her arm back "None of your business, now will you please excuse me." she began to move past the alpha but he grabbed her again. "Get off me." she yelled. Causing the bouncer and a few others to look in their direction. "You can't hide her forever." he called out to Kalina as she disappeared back inside. She hoped he was wrong.
You made your way inside you one bedroom apartment. Closing the door and locking in behind you. Your feet were sore and your head felt heavy. Walking into your kitchen to grab and glass of water. Standing in the dark, debating if you should wash your face or deal with the consequences in the morning. Refilling the glass you slowly walked to your small bathroom, turning the light on which made you wince. Pulling your hair back and using your expensive cleanser, one of the few things you splurge on. You found yourself kicking off the heals and peeling the tight dress you hand on off and falling into your bed. Only wearing the silky panties you had on, pulling the blankets down and over your body. Sleep found you quickly, drifting off into dreamland.
You woke a few hours later to what sounded like banging. You sat up in your bed, the blanket having fallen to your hips. Your tits out in the open, the air was cold causing your nipples to perk up. Listening in the dark for anymore noises and not hearing anything else you laid back down. Snuggling into your pillow, ready to fall back to sleep. But you heard your bedroom door slowly creak open. Your eyes snapped open, every hair on your body standing straight up. The same stinging from earlier made its way to the base of your neck again.
You instinctively reached out to your phone, but before you could full grab it. It was thrown across the room and you were flipped over on your back. The blanket that was covering your chest now on the floor. Thick hard fingers found themselves around your throat. The same burning ember eyes from the club were looking down at you. You didn't get a good look at him before, but you could see him clearly now. He was massive, not only in size but also in height. His head had to be nearly touching the ceiling. He was looking at with with such intense lust, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk. "I found you." was all he said before he removed his hand from your throat and brought his mouth to replace it. You could feel his hot breath fanning out over you jaw and down your chest. He pushed his nose into the vein that ran down the side, lightly licking its trail down to your crease were you neck net your shoulders. He paused a bit before he opened his jaw and bit down hard. Causing you to screaming and thrash, trying to push this gaint off of you. The trance you were in breaking and the panic and fear consuming you. Your screams got louder before his hand found its place over your mouth. "Shhh, darling. It's ok, I found you. Your safe now." he whispered into the side of your temple. Having released your neck, you could feel the blood drip down your back and onto the sheets below you. You began feeling dizzy, your vision getting blurry. He was still cooing into your temple, lightly kissing it and brushing his free hand over your hair. Trying to easy your fear and pain. You were stronger than he thought, fighting his trance once again. Once he felt you go limp in his arms, he let you go. Moving towards your closet, pulling out a shirt to cover you up with. He needed to cover you up, he knew if he didn't he would lose control. The beast in him still snarling and growling to get out.
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