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just-jordie-things · 1 month

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we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 11.9k warnings: heavy second base action (no tops, dry humping) but no smut, swearing, drinking but it’s legal summary: their friends think that if there’s tension between new roomates (y/n) and yuuta, then they should just act on it. more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommate!au, childhood friends, unrequited(?) love

part one: “face it, you want it, you crave it” ___

Having Yuuta as a roommate was never all that weird for (y/n). Things sort of just worked out that way, and honestly she was so relieved that she didn’t have to scramble to find a stranger to split the rent with- or face homelessness- that she hadn’t really given it much thought until a few days after he’d moved all of his things in and had settled into their now shared space.

On paper, he was the perfect candidate after all. They’d been friends for years, having known each other since childhood it was easy to trust him in her space. He already spent so much time in her dorm when she still lived on campus that having him in her living space didn’t seem like it’d be that much different anyways. Not to mention she knew him to be tidy and a pretty good cook, so as long as he was able to supply half the rent every month, she was content.

The day he’d moved in she’d been so happy that she’d hardly focused at all on helping him unpack. Most of her time was spent dancing around to the moving playlist she’d made, and she insisted they jam out while they- he- unpacked his things in the empty room adjacent to hers. When she wasn’t dancing, she was rambling on about how delighted she was that he agreed to move in with her. Looking back it was probably a little much, but Yuuta wasn’t overwhelmed by her excitement in the slightest.

As soon as she’d mentioned being on the hunt for a roommate he hadn’t thought twice about offering himself. They both just so happened to decide to move off campus to find cheaper, and steadier housing. The market wasn’t all that great so living alone wouldn’t have been possible even if either of them had interest in the roach infested studios in the area. Even the two bedroom apartment they shared was rather tiny, the living space and kitchen was essentially all one room, and there was only one bathroom, but they made it work. It was still more affordable than living on campus, and that’s all they cared about.

For the first two weeks it had been fun, even. It felt like a sleepover with their best friend, but every night. They spent most nights in cozy pajamas curled up on the couch sharing their favorite movies and swapping snacks. (y/n) couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him, and she was happy to tell him so every chance she got.

Yuuta couldn’t believe how lucky he was to get to spend all his free time with her. No longer did he have to coordinate around both of their schedules in order to have quality time with his favorite person. If she had to study for the evening and couldn’t hang out, he’d happily sit on her bed scrolling on his phone or reading. When their friends were free they’d come over unannounced, because either (y/n) or Yuuta were bound to be around to hang out with.

It was just so easy, it almost felt like a dream. The beginning of having their own space as young adults to do with as they please.

Yuuta bought a fish tank for their living room, a whole ten gallon aquarium for a pretty betta fish that (y/n) helped him pick out. They spoiled it with plants and cool rocks for decoration. They took turns feeding him every three days, and regularly sat in front of his tank to admire him. If one of them weren’t present, the other would spam their phone with photos and videos of it swimming around, doing next to nothing, with captions full of hearts and emojis to swoon for their pet.

(y/n) spent her freedom a little differently.

At first it was decorating her new room with a maximalist aesthetic. Posters, tapestries, string lights, and any strange pretty thing she’d taken a liking to covered her walls so thick that most of it began to overlap. It could be overstimulating to some- as Maki had remarked when she first visited the place- but she loved it that way. It took her a full three days to collage a whole wall full of her favorite photos. Ones from childhood, some from grade school, most from her most recent experiences and adventures through college. If she were to pull out her phone and snap a photo to make a proper memory of the day, it was likely getting printed out the next day and taped up to the wall. Soon, those too began to pile up and overlap, but again, she loved it that way. Even Yuuta began to take pictures for her, printing them out when he found the time and sticking them to the fridge to surprise her.

Once the project that was her room had been tackled and she was satisfied with the home she’d made for herself, her desire for freedom took the form of heavy drinking. It might have been concerning, Yuuta certainly panicked a little bit when he’d come home from a late study group session and find her dancing around the kitchen with her favorite handle in her clutch and the belting of her favorite song echoing in the small space. Eventually her time of drinking alone proved to be just a phase, one too many hangovers having taught her a lesson on time and place for drinking hard alcohol straight. But he did come to learn that she was quite comfortable as a social drinker. So if the Zen’in twins and Toge were coming over, it wasn’t odd to find a drink in her hand. At least she started taking his advice and ending the night with a full glass of water and an ibuprofen.

All in all, living together hadn’t been too strange of a milestone for them. It was fun, it was easy, and they really couldn’t have asked for more out of a roommate. Being best friends was an added perk that just made it all the more smooth.

Until recently. ___

“I’m tellin’ you,”

(y/n) huffed as she pulled the straw from her mouth as she spoke. A signature vodka cranberry mixed to perfection after months of honing the skill of a perfect pour. Her movements are a little delayed and awkward as she leaned back into the kitchen counter, her elbows coming to rest on it to hold herself up as she leaned her head back dramatically. Maki, who had only been semi listening to the girl’s ranting, remained silent as she raised a brow at the display.

“I think he’s doin’ it on purpose” (y/n) finished with a mumble.

It was difficult to hear her over the game of mariokart that Yuuta and Toge were currently playing in the living room- they got quite competitive when it came to that game in particular- but Maki caught enough of it to understand where she was going.

She looked over at her sister with only mild interest in her expression. Mai touched her fingertips to her mouth as she chuckled to herself, finding the situation far more amusing than Maki.

The situation began as simple as this: In order to save time in the mornings when both (y/n) and Yuuta had class, they’d been working on a bathroom schedule in order to optimize their time. For example, (y/n) had started doing her hair and makeup at a mirror in her room, where she’d sit on the floor and go through her skin care routine, and any other beautification and styling she’d felt inclined to for the day. That helped a lot with cutting back on hogging the shared bathroom.

Yuuta’s idea of helping to cut back on time, is to go back to his room directly after a shower to dry his hair and get dressed for the day. It was a great idea in theory, and would definitely save an extra five to ten minutes.

However twice now (y/n) had run into him in the short hall from the bathroom to his room. She shouldn’t have been so flustered. Realistically, she wasn’t seeing anything she hadn’t seen before. There had been plenty of times she’d seen him without a shirt. In the backyard of the home she’d grown up in they’d often set up a sprinkler to run through. In high school they’d gotten their volunteer hours in through lifeguarding together. In their freshman year of college they’d gone to just about every frat party, bonfire, and beach day that was thrown, just to be able to say they had taken on the party scene in their younger years. Seeing Yuuta shirtless was nothing new.

But twice now she’d practically run into him, with nothing but a towel held around his waist, damp hair sticking to his forehead and falling around his eyes, pale skin still littered with droplets of water, and had he started working out-?

Even thinking about it now she felt her face heating up. She shouldn’t have committed that image to memory- but it happened twice already so it couldn’t have been more than her mind staying sharp, right?

“If he’s doing it on purpose,” Mai’s voice had (y/n) snapping her head up as she crash landed back in reality. Her blush was obvious to the twins, but she hoped to play it off as the alcohol in her system.

Certainly not the thoughts that had started littering her mind, thoughts that you just don’t have about a best friend and roommate.

“Then why don’t you just do something about it?” Mai finished with a small smile on her face that suggests she has quite a few ideas in mind on how she could fix this problem.

(y/n’s) eyes widen, and she brings her drink back to her lips to ease her racing heart and spiraling thoughts.

“Like what?” She mumbles, as if there was a chance the guys could possibly hear their conversation.

Nothing could compete with the sound effect of a blue shell incoming, and Toge’s defeated screeches.

Maki scoffs before laughing, finally finding entertainment in this whole ordeal (y/n) had gotten herself so worked up about. The last ten minutes of their girl talk in the kitchen had been for nothing, it seemed, if she wasn’t going to act on her obvious infatuation.

“Just bone?” She suggests with a small laugh.

(y/n) swears her eyes were going to bulge right out of their sockets, and what was meant to be a small sip of her drink turned into a gulp as she sucked a little too harshly on her straw.

“Maki,” Mai hisses, smacking her sister’s arm, before turning back to (y/n). “She’s not wrong though, that would definitely solve everything”

“I can’t do that!” (y/n) squeaks. “I just- it’ll pass, it’s just a little crush, right? That’s normal, right?”

She looks between the twins for confirmation, validation in her silly feelings that were bound to pass with time. Mai winces. Maki rolls her eyes. This wasn’t looking promising. But perhaps they were just too eager to set up their friends and see some drama to unfold, so (y/n) decides that their advice might be a bit on the biased side.

“Just test the waters a little first,” Maki suggests, shooting Mai a look as she tries to telepathically tell her to reel it in. “Dip your toes in a little. No harm in that, right?”

“You live together, how have you not experimented a little already?” Mai mumbles, her brows furrowing together as her eyes glaze over, as though trying to process how it could be possible. The calculations simply weren’t adding up.

(y/n) gnaws on the inside of her cheek, and her fingers begin to tap on her glass.

“I guess…” She says, but her uncertainty is obvious. “Well… how much is a little?”

The twins burst into laughter, and they’re looking at each other like there’s an inside joke she’s not in on, and (y/n) pouts at them for teasing her in their silent twin way. This wasn’t the first time, she should be used to feeling like an odd man out when it came to hanging out with these two, but they were her last hope for guidance, so she took what she could.

For now, she determined that Maki and Mai weren’t going to be of much help as they snickered and muttered to one another. (y/n) couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly, but she gathered enough to realize they were slights against her, and she had enough of the bordering-on-friendly fire.

“I’m playing mariokart” She huffs, strutting out of the kitchen space and across the floor to the living room. In this small apartment it was an open floor so the couch was only ten feet away, but it was far enough that she couldn’t hear their laughter anymore, and for now that was enough.

Yuuta and Toge were sitting on the sofa, both heavily concentrating on the competitive game. Their wrists are flicking the switch controllers with precise movements as they steer, but when it comes to using items and drifting, their fingers are smashing buttons viciously. As she rounds the sofa she eyes the screen, seeing that the pair are battling it out for first place, with Yuuta currently claiming the spot.

That is, until (y/n) plops onto the cushioned armrest right beside him, and he glances up at her out of habit. The two seconds that he takes to smile up at her- even though she’s watching the screen- is all Toge needs to creep up Yuuta’s character and throw a green shell directly at his kart.

The remote tingles in his hands with a familiar vibration, his character having taken a hit. Yuuta’s head swivels back to the screen, as he desperately tries to make a comeback, but two other characters have already passed him, and now he’s in fourth place.

“What the hell!?” He groans as he realizes his demise is inevitable. It was the third lap of the game, and Toge’s Yoshi was about to cross the finish line. “That was so uncool!”

Toge’s cackling to himself, proud of his sneaky attack. He had a feeling it would work, all he needed was the perfect distraction. And nothing distracted Yuuta like (y/n).

As Yoshi crosses the finish line, Yuuta drops his controller to his lap with a defeated huff. He leans back into the sofa, head hitting the cushion as he glares at the screen displaying Yoshi’s victory dance, before he turns to (y/n), who gives him a sympathetic smile, before offering her drink to him.

“That was a dirty move,” She sides with him- typical, Toge rolls his eyes at the two of them, which goes unnoticed- “You’ll get him next time”

Yuuta takes the glass from her hand, sipping from the straw experimentally. There had been a period of time where her drinks were so strong he was about ready to cut her off from alcohol altogether. When a perfect mixture of vodka and cranberry juice hits his tongue, he’s pleasantly surprised that it’s not too bitter. His eyes light up at her before he swallows. She giggles at the obvious reaction.

“Yeah yeah” She mutters before he could even say anything. He didn’t have to for her to understand exactly what he was thinking.

Yuuta chuckles at her, before scooting over on the sofa, closer to Toge, so that there was some space for her to sit next to him.

“You want in?” He asks, holding his controller out to her.

She squeezes awkwardly into the small space, her legs still hanging over the armrest, and her back almost completely pressed into his side. Toge had shifted completely to one side of the couch, giving Yuuta more than enough space to also move so that (y/n) could sit properly. But neither of them seem to notice the blonde boy’s silent offer. Or, if they did, they didn’t pay any mind to it.

(y/n) takes the controller with a grin and a nod, and Toge starts up the next round. Yuuta had chosen Rosalina as his character, a favorite between them that they often fought over so much she was usually off limits when the two of them played.

Despite having a delayed start because Yuuta had finished the last race somewhere in the middle of the lineup, (y/n) makes a good comeback for the both of them. He cheers for her, leaning forward in his seat again as though he were still focused on the game for his own win. (y/n) remained in a relaxed position slumped back against him, her fingers moving with swift ease over the controller.

She giggled at the way Yuuta was on the edge of his seat, literally, sipping down the rest of her drink as he watched her play. He threw out advice when she picked up items, and winced for her when she took a hit.

“Use that! Throw it! Throw it at-!”

“Yuuta you’re being a backseat driver” (y/n) said calmly, keeping the red shell in her inventory despite his demands.

Toge barks out a laugh, still coasting in first place without much competition from the computers. But (y/n) was quickly gaining on him, drifting and gliding past the other spots with ease, and Yuuta began to realize her strategy. With a knowing grin on his face he leans back into the couch again, and puts his faith in her abilities.

She kicked his ass most of the time when they played one on one anyways.

Soon enough she was in second place and Yoshi was in sight. Yuuta’s hand happily tapped at her shoulder, giddy with his excitement. Toge had gone eerily silent as he put all of his focus in remaining in first. But his efforts were wasted, without an item to defend himself, (y/n) was able to take him out with one blow, stealing first place for herself and crossing the finish line on the final lap shortly after.

She raised her arms victoriously, but even more excited than her was Yuuta, who bragged in Toge’s face before wrapping his arms around his roommate and congratulating her on her win. She laughed, her head falling back on his shoulder as she laughed at his antics.

He beamed at her, and even though it was silly, there was no doubt in her mind that his pride in her was anything but authentic. Yuuta was just like that. He celebrated even the most minor of conquests.

Toge tossed the controller onto the coffee table with a string of curses muttered under his breath.

“Good timing,” Maki calls, dangling her keys in her hand and catching their attention. “Are you crashing here or are you leaving with us?”

(y/n) lifts her head up from Yuuta’s shoulder, peeking over the back of the couch at the twins who suddenly had their shoes on. She gives them a pout.

“Leaving so soon?”

“We’ve been here for eight hours” Mai giggles.

“It’s one in the morning you maniac” Maki rolls her eyes.

“You could just spend the night,” (y/n) offers, her features brightening up at the idea. “Sleepover-!”

“No,” Maki shakes her head firmly, despite Mai’s excited expression at the idea. “We have class in the morning, we’ll do it another time, okay?”

(y/n) nods, satisfied with that answer.

Toge shuffles off the couch, giving a bitter congratulations to the winning pair of mariokart, although he made it clear to Yuuta that he only won because (y/n) took over.

They bid their friends goodbye, promising to meet up again at some point soon, knowing fully well they wouldn’t make a plan, and someone was bound to show up on their doorstep without invitation tomorrow or the next day.

And then it was just (y/n) and Yuuta.

She was still tucked under his arm, he was still drinking the remnants of the drink she’d made for herself but had conveniently forgotten about so he could have the last of it.

“Are you going to bed, too?” She asks him, and he chuckles at her desire for staying up late.

They’d always been opposites in that aspect.

(y/n) was a night owl through and through, whether party mode was on or not. She was most productive when the sun went down. It wasn’t odd to find her studying or doing chores at odd hours of the night. He’d actually had to tell her she couldn’t vacuum in the middle of the night, claiming she was going to make their neighbors complain. But it was a treat for him to wake up and find the apartment spotless and organized.

Meanwhile Yuuta was an early to rise kind of guy. He had a decent morning routine for himself that involved an alarm going off at eight in the morning every morning, and it wasn’t often he broke that routine. He’d be up for a few hours before (y/n) would drag herself out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast- which was usually waiting for her on the counter.

“It is the middle of the night now,” He tells her, before checking his phone. “Actually it’s not technically night anymore, it’s Friday morning”

(y/n) frowned at him. He chuckles again.

“Fine, fine” (y/n) starts to sit up, but doesn’t go too far. She pulls her legs onto the cushion beneath her, and then turns to face him properly.

For some reason when she looks up at him again, she’s brought back to her conversation with the Zen’in twins, and she can’t help but wonder what they would have advised her to do if she’d stuck around for the rest of their conversation. She wondered if Yuuta had ever experienced this dilemma, or if she was the only one creating the tension in the apartment. She wondered if he even felt it.

“Som’thin’ on your mind?” Yuuta asks after a few beats of silence pass. His eyebrows furrow in the slightest, and (y/n’s) expression eases into something calmer. She must’ve been thinking too hard, she supposes.

“Not really, just had a weird talk with Maki and Mai” She tries to brush it off as not a big enough deal worth talking about, but for some reason, this seems to catch his interest.

“Oh yeah?” He muses curiously. “Don’t tell me they want to move in-”

“No!” (y/n) let out a burst of laughter as she shook her head. “Where did that come from? Where would they even stay?” She asks, gesturing to the small space around them. Yuuta laughs with her, shrugging his shoulders.

“My thoughts exactly,” He agrees quietly, as though they were keeping it a secret just between them. “But everyone hangs out here all the time, I don’t want them getting any ideas,” He says, half seriously. “This is our sweet deal,”

Yuuta laughs again, but this time when she laughs along with him it’s soft, almost unsure. Her heart flutters in her chest at the sentiment he shares for having this place with her. Even after all this time, she feels relief in waves of warmth when he voices his happiness here.

“What is it then?” He asks. He leans back into the couch cushion, but keeps his eyes on hers. She tilts her head and hums in question. “Your weird talk,” He reminds her, “What was it about?”

“Oh,” (y/n) drops her gaze from his, her face warming up at the idea of admitting to him what they’d been talking about.

I’ve just been thinking about you shirtless a lot lately, and sometimes I can’t sleep over it just doesn’t seem to be an appropriate thing to say to a long time best friend who she now lives with.

“They were just asking questions about what it’s like to live together” She settles on a half lie. They had been curious about the living situation. She didn’t necessarily have to disclose that Mai found it unthinkable that they were able to share a living space and not tear each other’s clothes off… right?

“For us to live together?” Yuuta raises a brow. (y/n) tucks her hands into her lap and nods.

She tries to get comfortable leaning her back against the arm rest, but everytime his gaze falls on her, it feels heavier than usual, and she struggles to sit still. Her hands fiddle in her lap, she squirms in her seat, and she can only hold his eye contact for a minute at a time. Did he always look at her like that? She wondered when she dared to meet those deep blue irises again. Was it the few drinks he’d had that made them look darker? Or was she seeing things?

“Why was that so interesting?” He asks. “I mean, it’s been six months,”

Again, her heart flutters at the thought of him knowing exactly how long they’d been living together. Or maybe she was being stupid and he was just keeping track of the rent.

“What’s so interesting about now?”

(y/n) shrugs, a small smile on her face that she can’t help. “I don’t know”

But he sees through the statement, especially with that smile on her face that tells him there was more she wasn’t telling him. Curiosity gets the best of him, and he raises a brow at her.

“Well,” He ponders, “What were they so curious about?”

(y/n) drags her bottom lip between her teeth as she narrows her eyes at him, proving that she could read him well, too, and she could tell that he was trying to pry even though she’d been repeatedly dismissing the subject.

“Nosy tonight,” She scolds him as she kicks her legs out to throw them over his, stretching the sore muscles from sitting on her feet for too long. “Were you eavesdropping, Okkotsu?”

“No,” He lets out a small laugh. “Though now I wish I had been, since you’re being unusually cryptic about it”

“Unusual?” She repeats the word in a drawl, tilting her head and pretending to think it over. “I wouldn’t say unusual,” She argues softly. “I don’t tell you everything”

“Yes you do” Yuuta replies matter of factly, his expression doesn’t even flicker. (y/n) blinks at him.

“No…”

“Oh yeah? Tell me something you haven’t told me then” He challenges, his lips curling into a smile.

She huffs, and quickly tries to rack her brain for something she’d kept from him. Secrets and embarrassing moments fly through her train of thought as she tries to latch onto a memory that she was sure she hadn’t shared with him.

Her eyes light up as she finally remembers something she’s sure he didn’t know.

“Oh!” She leans forward with eager anticipation to prove him wrong. “Remember my first boyfriend? In middle school?”

Yuuta raised a brow, but nodded in confirmation.

“On our first date, he took me out-”

“Mhm,” Yuuta hums, recalling the details of that date without much thought at all. “Bowling” He said calmly.

“Right,” (y/n) chuckles, flustering a bit that he already seemed to remember the event as easily as she had. “Well, at the end of the date, when we were waiting outside for his mom to pick us up, he’d asked if he could kiss me while we were alone, before she got there,” Her words are a little slurred, which she was quick to mentally blame on the few drinks she’d had. “But I told him n-”

“- you told him no because you ate chili fries while you were bowling and you didn’t want him to taste it and then he kissed you anyways and you slapped him on instinct and he was a little whiner about it and said you did taste like chili fries and you smacked him again” Yuuta filled in the rest of the story, his head rested back against the cushion again, as though he was bored just from retelling it.

(y/n) blinked, her lips parting into an ‘o’ shape as she realized maybe he did know everything about her already. Should it have been obvious to her from his confidence on that matter? Probably. Did she still feel a determination to find something, anything, that he didn’t know? Definitely.

At her lack of response, Yuuta rolled his head to the side, a lazy smirk tugging on his lips when he regarded her soft surprise. Her eyes narrow in the slightest at him, playful mockery of his know-it-all attitude.

“Well, then,” (y/n) scoffed as she took on a refreshed attitude when it came to rubbing in his face that she knew something he didn’t. “I suppose you already knew that the twins were curious about how you and I seem to manage living together without some kind of netflix-romcom-level sexual tension”

The teasing tone in her voice and eager gleam in her eye seem to disappear as soon as the words come out and she realizes what she’s just said. In slow motion, and as her face falls into one of regret, she realizes two things.

One, that by addressing the sexual tension, whether it existed or not, it instantly thickened in the air. All at once she’s aware of it. Suddenly the weight of her legs in his lap is so heavy she feels a desire to curl up into him completely. Yuuta has one arm draped over the back of the couch cushions in her direction, his hand hangs loosely just in front of her shoulder. If she were to lean forward in the slightest movement, his fingers would graze her sweater. His other hand lays on her knee, and sporadically he taps his index finger against it. Sometimes she thinks he’s playing a familiar beat that’s been stuck in his head, too, but then he pauses and she loses track of figuring out what song that is. Even her breathing is suddenly manual, and she’s afraid if she sucks in a breath too sharp, he’ll question it. So she takes slow, shallow breaths, barely filling her lungs with oxygen. Was that why she was getting so dizzy?

Two, now that she’s admitted what her and the twins had been talking about earlier, (y/n) fears that she’ll have to confess that the reason they were talking about the sexual tension was because she’d created the sexual tension- and yet she had gone to them to blame him for it.

Yuuta blinks, his brows furrowing at first, as though to process the information, but he just as quickly relaxed his face and pursed his lips, giving her a small nod.

(y/n) doesn’t dare utter a word. Instinct claws up her throat and begs her to take it back, make a joke and apologize to smooth it over and hopefully they’d never mention it again. The words die before she can utter them. She remains frozen beside him, focused on his every microexpression, hoping to figure out what he was thinking before he voiced it.

“I see,” He says, a small smile gracing his features that has her relaxing just a little bit.

Yuuta can feel her weight shifting as she sinks further into the couch cushion. He could sense her nerves from a mile away, so he spoke carefully, hoping not to spook her into retreating early.

Comfortingly, his hand smooths over her knee, long fingers grazing her thigh from the short caress.

“I don’t think I would’ve guessed that,” He admits with a chuckle through his nose. His eyes flicker over to hers, watching her closely. Her cheeks are pink, and her gaze shifts between his eyes at a faster rate than usual. She’s still anxious. “But I can’t say I’m surprised”

Her lips twitch with a curious emotion Yuuta can’t read as well as before. Her brows pinch and then relax. She’s reading him, he thinks. His mind is a little hazy from the few drinks he’s had, so he might be seeing things that aren’t there, but he’s equally intrigued by the conversation.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” She asks. Her voice is quiet, but he doesn’t mistake it for uncertainty. In fact, he can tell just how genuinely interested she is in obtaining his thoughts. Just as he is, she’s on the edge of her seat, and only pushing further to see where this new line of thought would lead them both. “Living together, I mean” She clarifies, unnecessarily.

The pad of his finger taps against her knee, once, and then twice. His lips purse and she watches the movement with her breath hitched in her throat. The room was getting hot from the thickening tension that she’d created. It was almost uncomfortable, her body screamed for her to get up from this couch, pull herself from where she was half draped over his lap and put as much distance between them while she still could. She was approaching a line between them that she’d never even tiptoed across before, and she wasn’t sure what lied on the other side, but god, she was just dying to find out.

“Weird? Not in the slightest” Yuuta murmurs honestly. She can tell from the way his eyes lock onto hers that he does mean it, and relief flooded her. Before it came back in the form of excitement, and now her skin was buzzing everywhere that their bodies were touching.

“You’re not just saying that?” She double checks, leaning forward off of the arm rest to study him up close.

They were already close enough, but there was a quiet desire in the back of her mind longing to push closer, until she could make out the individual swirls of blue in his irises. Her lips curve into a soft, lovely smile as she admires him, and Yuuta fights the way his own breath chokes up in his throat.

“You really don’t think it’s weird we’ve never…” She trails off, her head shaking in a small movement, just enough to make a few stray hairs fall into her eyes. “I dunno, like, even kissed or anything?”

His eyes grow rounder at the question, widening just a little bit, but enough for her to notice. She knew such a blunt question would make him nervous, Yuuta always grew nervous at any sort of romantic prospect. He’d been that way since they were kids. If he had a crush on someone it was obvious, but as soon as (y/n) would press about it, he’d get red in the face and begin to stutter. It had always been cute, if not a little silly. But now it had her curious as to why. They’d been friends for so long, and even now that they were older, it was like his initial response to such questioning would make him shut down.

‘You could bring girls here, you know,’ She’d told him once, shortly after they’d settled into the apartment. ‘I could even leave for the night. Stay with the twins, or somethin. That way it’s not weird’

He’d laughed, and given her a puzzled look, like the mere idea was ridiculous, like he didn’t even understand what she was suggesting. The pink in his cheeks told her he knew fully well what she was saying. She’d returned the confused look at the time. ‘Don’t you want to bring girls here?’ She’d asked point blank.

‘N-no, well, maybe,’ His response was immediate but he had no clue what he was saying. ‘I just haven’t thought about it’ He’d said instead.

She’d teased him for it, but dropped the subject. It might’ve been entertaining to watch him squirm, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. So she’d simply reminded him that it was alright with her. Followed by, ‘I mean, you wouldn’t mind if I brought someone here, would you?’

He’d stared at her for a minute, his answer not as instantaneous as the last. His heart lurched to his throat, or perhaps it had been bile, and he found himself biting down on his tongue to keep from speaking too quickly. His expression hadn’t flickered even for a moment, remaining neutral as she stared at him, awaiting his response.

Yuuta hadn’t said a word. He simply shook his head, and then left the conversation completely by returning to his studies, hoping that giving his attention back to his textbook would drop the topic. It had worked, she’d moved on right away, and it hadn’t been brought up since.

Neither one of them had brought a visitor to the apartment, besides their friends who frequented regularly. There were no dates, no lovers, no visitors of the night snuck in, or even mentioned. Pondering it now, Yuuta supposes there were very few things she didn’t tell him. Then again, he didn’t exactly have an interest in knowing those things. In fact, the mere idea of it had bile rising in his throat.

Yuuta arched a brow at her, silently questioning her train of thought. Since that conversation early on in their roommate-ship, (y/n) rarely brought up this sort of topic. Occasionally she had a date, but nothing seemed to last longer than a couple of weeks, and she didn’t talk much about those events in detail. Always beginning with a simple ‘I have a date tonight’ and later followed up with ‘it didn’t work out’ and a shrug as she’d cozy up to him on this very sofa. Yuuta never met any of the people she’d go out with. (y/n) never offered him to. They left it that way, unspoken, and simple.

Well, it wasn’t all that simple at all. The nights she’d spend out of the house on these mystery dates Yuuta found himself sitting frozen and staring off into space, letting time lapse slowly as he waited for her return. A part of him hoped no one ever lingered at the door, so he wouldn’t have to see who it was she spent her time with, who it was that was her type.

But another part of him, the part that he tried to bury deep down, longed to look one of these men in the eyes, just once. He wouldn’t even say anything, he was sure he wouldn’t need to. If he could get one good look at them, he was sure he could make it clear just how undeserving of her time they were. Because at the end of the day, she had him, and she had him in every way that mattered. Since they were children, he’d been there, showing her what true love really looked like, felt like. He was there for every important event and milestone. He was here now, sharing a living space with her. And he’d be there for everything that came next. Because he cared about her. Because he loved her.

And when she had him the way that she did, wrapped around a perfectly manicured finger, how could anyone else be remotely deserving of her?

The gears in Yuuta’s mind are operating as fast as they can, spinning and whirring as he tries to decipher where exactly she’s going with this. But the alcohol in his system has him under a haze, and he realizes he has yet to give her an answer to her question.

He clears his throat, and his lips twitch into an amused smile as he locks eyes with her.

“Is kissing the true evaluation of roommates?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice that has her blushing and rolling her eyes at him.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as the back of her hand smacks into his shoulder, the action soft, as though she were trying to be gentle with him, as though he were fragile, even with his broad shoulders and lean muscle built into his body.

He can’t help but tease again, for the sole purpose of seeing her continue to fluster before him. The idea of making her forget how to behave around him after all this time has his heart skipping a beat, and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes.

“What exactly are the Zen’ins feeding you, hm?” He asks, and she struggles to look him in the eye now.

“I wasn’t trying to suggest- they just- they got in my head…” She huffs defeatedly, her bottom lip sticking outwards in a small pout. Yuuta’s eyes catch the plump pink skin, and they linger there for a moment longer than they should’ve before meeting her gaze again. Her eyes have noticeably widened, proving he’d been caught, but he doesn’t feel as much anxiety about it as he should have.

“So what,” He speaks curiously. “Are you asking me to kiss you?”

A small laugh escapes her, a tinkly little sound that is exhaled with the breath she’d been holding. Yuuta’s lips quirk upwards at the nervous response, his excitement getting the best of him the longer he watches her shift her gaze and fluster. Why this had been on her mind, he didn’t quite understand, but in their current predicament, he didn’t care too much to peel it back layer by layer.

“I didn’t-” (y/n) starts to shake her head, but her uncertainty overcomes her and she tries to switch gears. “I don’t know… I guess they made me sort of… curious” She admits bashfully. Her eyes focus on her fiddling hands in her lap before turning the question onto him. “Is that weird?” Her voice is quiet again. “Have you ever… I dunno… thought about it?”

The hand that he had resting before her shoulder reached out then, fingertips barely grazing along the soft material of her cable knit sweater. His gaze followed the motion as his fingers twitched and moved further on their own accord, stopping at the hem of the neckline, just before skin could touch skin. He looks back at her, surprised to find her attention locked on him again.

All of the fucking time, his brain is so loud it almost overpowers the heartbeat pouding in his ears. I don’t think I’ve ever truly stopped thinking about you.

“I suppose you’ve got me thinking about it now” Is what he says, quiet and smooth, although the blush on his cheeks betrays him and makes him appear a little softer than he was going for. (y/n’s) lips twitch into a smile nonetheless, relieved again that he hadn’t made a fool out of her for admitting such a thing.

When she leans closer to him, his fingers finally graze against the side of her neck, and he wastes no time in sliding his large hand around the nape of her neck, not quite pulling her any closer than she’d already brought herself, but the presence of his hand is firm, making sure she won’t distance herself too soon.

“Do you want to?” She asks, her eyes lighting up with an excitement he’d sparked as soon as he’d validated her curiosities. Her voice holds the silly eagerness of a girl much younger than she is. A schoolgirl with a crush, Yuuta thinks to himself as he eyes her bright eyes and slowly growing grin.

The hand on her knee flexes with anticipation, giving her leg a slight squeeze. He wants to say all the right things, he wants to do all the right things, because jesus christ this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and Yuuta could not afford to waste even a second of it. He wanted to commit it all to memory, her soft voice, the smell of her perfume, the curve of her lips, the stars in her eyes- there was so much of her to take in, and not nearly enough time for him to adore it all properly. With hooded eyes he studied every feature as best he could, wishing he could slow down time, or even freeze it altogether.

“Yeah,” He mumbles, and the word drawls out of his mouth in a long sigh as his eyes move between hers and her lips with a longing she’d never seen on him before.

If she didn’t know any better, (y/n) might have thought that look was desperation.

“Yeah, I want to,” He repeats a little louder, and he moves closer to her then, invading her space and clouding all of her senses with him.

His eyes, dark from how blown out his pupils had grown, his low almost raspy voice, the lingering remains of his musky cologne, the way his tongue barely poked out of his mouth to wet his lips- her heartbeat was racing, and her hand trembled as she reached out to place it against his collarbone. Her touch was feather light, almost experimental despite having touched him on plenty of occasions before, just never quite like this.

Her long lashes flickered quickly as she too struggled with where to look. When their gaze caught in passing, Yuuta gave the back of her neck a gentle squeeze, silently instructing her to hold his stare.

“You’re sure?” He asks softly, and she almost laughs at how thoughtful the question is. How thoughtful he is. But she doesn’t. Instead, she gives him a sweet smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

“It’s just a kiss, right?” She murmurs, blissfully unaware of just how worked up Yuuta’s gotten himself over the prospect of just a kiss.

He doesn’t wait for further confirmation. He simply draws her closer by the back of her neck. Her eyes flutter shut and she tilts her chin forward in the most miniscule of movements, and yet he can read her anticipation with ease.

Her breath hitches in her throat, and Yuuta’s closing the rest of the distance as his lips touch hers.

For half a second they’re both frozen, paralyzed by the sudden fear that there was no taking this back, there was no going back from this. (y/n’s) blood ran cold in that brief moment, worried that Yuuta also realized this was a grave mistake.

But then his mouth moves over hers. His warm lips catch hers with a soft yet determined kiss, and she gives into every temptation that consumes her.

Her hand presses into his chest a little harder, before her fingers are curling into the soft cotton of his tee shirt. Her other hand falls against his shoulder when he tugs her closer in a moment of thoughtless desire. Yuuta pulls her by her knee, sliding her closer until her legs drape completely across his, the curve of her ass flush with his thigh. As soon as he does it he panics again that he’s made a mistake and taken this experiment of a kiss too far, but she responds so eagerly, with a quiet hum against his mouth and her hand curling around his neck as she deepens their kiss.

For a kiss on a whim between friends, (y/n) kisses him with the fervor of a woman starved, and Yuuta internally struggles on where the boundary between them currently lies. His hand twitches on her thigh, squeezing the plush of her leg and aching to move, to explore the rest of her warm and inviting body, to touch her everywhere he could reach. He has to hold her a little tighter just to fight the urge.

(y/n) is less worried about taking strides across the gray area of a boundary between them. The hand on his neck slides into his hair, scratching at his scalp before her fingers tangle into the dark tresses. She gives it a small tug, and his lips part against hers as he gasps, before chuckling quietly at her curiosity. He feels her smile against him before she’s pressing closer again. Her tongue darts over his swollen bottom lip, and she gives him no time to react to the hot and wet sensation before she’s capturing his lips again.

Yuuta wasn’t sure what he should’ve predicted when they’d drunkenly admitted to sharing a curiosity for kissing one another, but he hadn’t expected this. Her hands have a tight hold on him, on his shirt and in his hair, and her sweet, cranberry flavored lips feel relentless as she slots them into his again and again. He supposes he’s treating this little experiment the same, meeting each of her kisses with the same amount of heated excitement. He tries not to think about when he’s supposed to stop, when he’s supposed to pull away and say ‘well that answers that. Goodnight!’. So for now he pretends that moment won’t come.

On the other hand, (y/n) knows she should stop. She knows she should pull away from his addictive lips and release her shackles from him before she gets carried away.

But she’s already too far gone, isn’t she?

Shakily, she releases his shirt, and her hand blindly maps across his shoulder, then down his arm. Her touch is light but the tips of her fingers burn across his skin. His muscles are taut, and she wonders if he’s flexing to be impressive or if he’s filled with so much anticipation he’s fighting the urge to go further. When her hand reaches his it stills, and she presses her palm into the back of his hand where it lies on her leg.

A shudder escapes her and she pants softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss as she grabs his hand a little tighter, and moves it.

Yuuta breaks away instantly, wide eyes meeting hers and an apology on the tip of his tongue. But before she can pull his hand away from her, he realizes she’s holding it to place it somewhere else, not to pull it away.

She blinks her eyes open lazily as she sits up further, curving one of her legs across his lap, setting her knee down beside his hip. Yuuta follows her movements in a daze, his hooded eyes flitting across her body as he watches her straddle his lap and settle back into him carefully. She’s slow, agonizingly slow, giving him ample time to halt her, to say the word that he was done and his curiosity had been satiated.

He doesn’t.

Her hand pushes his again, guiding it up to her waist, and then down over her hip.

“This okay?” She mumbles, and his gaze moves from where she’s still lowering his hand. He tilts his head back as he looks up at her, and the look in his eyes has her melting right in his lap. Her free hand spreads out over his chest, fingers stretching as far as she can reach to feel as much of his heated skin through his tee shirt as she could.

He looks at her with his pupils so blown they almost eat up every last splash of blue in his irises. His lips are swollen and parted as he takes in quiet, heavy breaths. He nods at her lazily, drunkenly, and she wonders if it’s from the alcohol or from her.

When she pushes his hand under her ass, she doesn’t have to guide him any further. He squeezes into the supple flesh right away. She giggles quietly before his other hand is pulling her into him again and smashing her lips against his.

They’re much closer now, it had taken little to no effort for him to pull her into his chest, and their hips collided at the sudden movement.

All she thinks about as she tangles her hands in his hair and parts her lips for his tongue to lazily explore her mouth are those couple of times she’s caught him in a towel fresh out of the shower. How she’d scurried into her room and tried to ease her mind of the dark thoughts he’d made blossom. She thinks about how there hadn’t been anything to quite satisfy those thoughts. Ignoring them did nothing, acting on them in the safety of her room and her hand down her panties made them worse, and even now she feels tortured by the image, making her ache for more, more, more. Nothing was quite enough.

His teeth sink into her bottom lip and she whimpers, her brows pinching as her hips stutter against her will. She feels as though she should apologize for grinding on him so shamelessly, she could feel what this makeout session was doing to him after all, but he doesn’t seem to want an apology. His hands grip her hips and he pulls her down again, dragging her slowly over the growing hardness in his pants with a low groan.

The guttural sound reverberating from his chest only spurs her on, and she complies with the rhythm he sets on her hips, slow and painful. Their kiss breaks as she lets out a few soft pants, but she never fully catches her breath as she grinds into him.

She can’t help but peek her eyes open at him, falling in love with the way his eyes are screwed shut and his lips are parted as small moans fall from his mouth. The sight makes something spark send a jolt of pleasure down her tummy and to her core. She knew she should’ve given him a quick peck of the lips and called it a night, because she’s not sure she could muster the strength to stop where she so desperately wanted this to go.

As though annoyed that she’d stopped kissing him for too long, Yuuta pulls her in again, his hand curling around the back of her neck as his lips plant hot kisses down her throat. A high pitched gasp escapes her as his mouth drags along her skin between each kiss, and her hands are curled into his long hair again. Her hips stutter in their pace, but he has no issue with grabbing them tighter and guiding them back through his favorite rhythm.

His mouth lingers at what little of her collarbones are exposed, leaving wetter kisses there as he appreciates them as fully as he could, before traveling up the side of her neck. His teeth barely graze the sensitive skin, and he’s dying to mark up every inch of her, but he restrains himself from doing so, instead compromising for lingering nips and gentle sucks against her skin.

“So fucking beautiful,” He praises in a husky murmur, biting down on a particularly sensitive spot just under her jaw. He’s rewarded with a sudden rut of her hips and a pretty little moan as she angles her head further back to expose more of her neck to him. He soothes the spot with a painfully slow drag of his tongue before kissing it sweetly. “So perfect, so perfect f’me”

The praise sends her into a dizzy spell so strong she’s not sure she’s still on earth with him. This must be another universe, maybe heaven, maybe a dream. Her fingers fall from his hair, tugging at the collar of his shirt with an irritated whine.

When she tugs a few more times and he doesn’t get the hint, she throws her hands against his chest defeatedly.

“Yuu” She whines, and the sound of his name has his dick twitching in his pants, which he’s certain she could feel. His face flushes with embarrassment, but she just as quickly grinds into him with a roll of her hips.

He hums questioningly against the side of her neck, before tilting his head and kissing his way to the other side to give it attention too. She sighs, half irritated, half pleasured, as he sweeps her hair to the other shoulder with one brush of his hand. (y/n) continues to paw at his shirt, bunching up as much material at his shoulders as she could, her desperate attempts were weak, barely exposing the skin of his abdomen. When he still didn’t comply with her unspoken desire, she opted to reach for the skin that she could get her hands on.

Yuuta’s abs tensed and he shuddered as her fingers ghosted over the exposed skin. At first she barely trailed her fingertips over the muscle, but watching him twitch and shiver had her eager to slide her hands up his stomach, eagerly mapping their way up his chest, and pushing the rest of his shirt upwards on their mission.

His face is completely red as he watches her heavy gaze admiring his body. He wants to laugh and remind her that she’s seen him without a shirt many times before now, and he’s never seen her look at him like this, but her eyes are darkened with lust and his voice is stuck in his throat, so he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, when the hem of his tee shirt is bunched up at his chest, he leans forward off the couch cushion, and takes his hands off of her hips so he could grab his shirt from the back, lifting it over his head in one quick yank. (y/n) watches with her lip between her teeth as his hair falls back in his face, and he’s left shirtless before her.

The idea of slowing this down now is far from either of their minds. She hums with appreciation as her hands smooth along his collarbones, fingers drawing loopy shapes into his skin as they travel down his chest, slowly exploring the skin she’d been fantasizing about for weeks now. His blush runs down his neck and stops just short of his collarbones, and (y/n) admires every inch of it.

Eventually her stare is too intense and Yuuta begins to stir, wrapping his hands around her hips once more to pull her against his chest before his lips meet hers. It’s a slow kiss at first, and her tongue brushes over his in a way that almost feels sweet. He could still taste the vodka and cranberry juice in her mouth, and he swears it's enough to get him buzzed. But as his hands climbed her hips and dipped below the hem of her sweater, she picked up her pace, and he could feel quick puffs of air from her nse hitting his cheek.

She’s getting worked up again, and he’s eager to see just how far he could push her before she gives in completely.

He pulls her in close enough that her hands dart back into his hair, gripping at the back of his head tight enough that he couldn’t tear his lips from hers if he wanted to. Not that he’d want to, with how drunkenly she’s sucking at his lower lip and whimpering into his mouth with every roll of her hips.

Learning she’s so vocal when she’s turned on was a mistake on Yuuta’s part. Because now all he longed to do was find all the right things that made her tick and do it more. Every strained whine and whimper was music to his ears, wordless praise that he was doing something right, and he’d be damned before he found every spot that had her making those sweet noises for him.

Calloused hands roam over her abdomen, feeling it dip as she inhales sharply, and smirking against her mouth when he reaches higher, skimming the hem of her bra.

Unlike him, she wastes no time at all. Leaning back from their kiss abruptly, and grabbing her oversized sweater from the bottom and pulling it over her head with great urgency. Yuuta’s eyes fall to her chest instantly, wide and eager as they take in the simple red bra and how pretty the color makes her tits look. The thin lace on the edges complimenting the swell of her chest so beautifully he hopes he commits this image to memory.

Now it’s her turn to fluster and blush while he unabashedly stares. And she could tease him, remind him that he’s seen her in a bikini, that this was the same amount of skin he’s been gifted to see before, but she finds herself growing bashful under his heavy gaze. She can feel the way his eyes take a mental picture of her before he finally leans forward to enjoy the exposed skin further.

“Fuck,” He mumbles, lips brushing over her clavicle before kissing downwards, between the valley of her breasts. “You really are s’fucking beautiful, y’know that?” His words are slurred as his hands roam up her sides and hesitate just before reaching her chest. “Can I touch you, pretty girl?”

The praise and pet name swirl in her mind in a sweet haze that gets her high. She gives a soft mhm and a nod of her head before his hands gently cup over her chest, squeezing with a surprising softness into the warm flesh. Yuuta continues to kiss along the exposed skin he could reach, her collarbones, the swell of her tits, her shoulders, his lips dragged over every inch, making sure to disperse his attention diligently.

“So beautiful,” He sings praises between each kiss, noticing the way it has her squirming in his lap. “So perfect, every part of you”

He grabs her hands by the wrists, pulling them up to his shoulders, until her fingers twitch and reach for his hair again. Her hips roll over his with a quiet moan. He lifts his head at the noise, a lazy smirk on his lips as he gazes up at her. She furrows her brows at him as she moves her hips again, trying to get more friction between them.

His hands squeeze her tits simultaneously, before his left thumb drags over the thin material covering them, finding her hardened nipple with ease and rolling over it teasingly.

“Yuuta,” She sighs, tilting her head at him as her gaze drags slowly down his body, the desire in her eyes obvious.

It made the room thick with sexual tension, and they both only grew hotter in temperature the longer this was dragged out. When her eyes met his again it was undeniable what she was thinking. Her every want and desire was clear solely from her eyes focused on his, and how her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him close to her face, but not quite kissing him.

His hands slid up her chest, fingertips prodding at the lacy cups of her bra until it gave way and he could slide his hands over the soft skin beneath. Her bottom lip quivers with what she wants to say next.

“Yuu, I-”

A sharp rap of a fist against their door has them jolting back to reality with a harsh swivel of both heads turning towards the sound. Without thought Yuuta’s hands fall to her waist and he pulls her into him, instinctively covering her barely exposed body if someone was to let themselves into the apartment. But the door doesn’t move, and the knocking persists.

“What the- it’s two in the morning,” (y/n) mumbles with a brow furrowed in confusion. “Who could-?”

The pair lock eyes as realization floods over them at the same time. Oh.

“Shit” Yuuta curses, and (y/n) quickly scurries off of his lap as she begins searching for their discarded articles of clothing.

Yuuta’s faster, tossing her a shirt and pulling one on for himself as he gets up off the couch and quickly heads for the door. He glances down at his pants with a wince, trying to adjust the obvious hard on, but to no use. He tugs as far as he can at the hem of his sweater to cover it. It’s a half decent job, and as he approaches the door he hopes it’s enough to hide it. He gives (y/n) a quick look to make sure she was decent.

She’s still sitting on the couch, her head peeking over the cushions curiously as he goes to open the door. Her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are flushed, both obvious giveaways to what she’s been up to for the last fifteen minutes. Yuuta’s sure he doesn’t look any better, and his hands rush to his head to smooth his hair down before he finally grabs the door knob and swings it open.

“What?” He greets Toge with more annoyance than usual, and the blonde on the other side of the door raises a brow at the tone.

Lavender eyes sweep over Yuuta’s flushed face and messy hair. He points into the apartment, vaguely towards the living room. Yuuta steps aside, letting his friend in for whatever it was he’d forgotten.

Toge gives (y/n) a friendly smile and waves as he strides into the living room. She returns the smile with weak lips.

Their visitor grabs a hoodie off of the arm chair to the left of the couch, something neither (y/n) or Yuuta had noticed left behind. He shrugs it on and stuffs his hands into the cozy fleece-lined pocket with a satisfied smile before waving goodbye to (y/n) and walking out of the room just as quickly.

“Sorry I didn’t notice it sooner,” Yuuta says sheepishly as Toge passes. “I could’ve brought it to you tomorrow”

Toge waves a dismissive hand, before twirling his finger around and shrugging. He must’ve still been in the area, Yuuta realizes.

He’s about to step out the door and leave without a catch, but he hesitates just as he steps over the threshold, his eyes doing a double take as he notes the dark green cable knit sweater Yuuta’s wearing.

His eyes linger on the article of clothing, brows pinching with familiarity, before he lifts his gaze to Yuuta’s, who’s also suddenly aware of the shirt he was wearing.

Before he can stop himself, Yuuta’s head is swiveling to where (y/n) was still watching them both from the couch. She’s sporting a tee shirt too loose on her frame to be hers. Toge follows Yuuta’s gaze, his eyes widening with realization.

“Anyways!” Yuuta clears his throat as he turns back to Toge with a grin so forced his cheeks hurt. “I’ll see you later?”

Toge opens his mouth, a grin of his own forming and a small laugh coming from his throat, but before anything could be said, Yuuta was ushering him through the rest of the doorway, already trying to shut the door in his face.

“Yeah, later, goodnight, Toge!”

The door closes a little harsher than he meant it to, the frame shaking as the latch clicks into place. Yuuta locks it just as quickly, before groaning and hitting his head against the wood. It felt like his heart was beating in his throat. He worried he might throw up from the anxiety coursing through his veins.

“That was close,” (y/n) says quietly, just loud enough for him to hear.

He’s too anxious to look at her. He squeezes his eyes shut and stays put against the door. Distantly, he remembers his dick is still hard.

He can hear (y/n) stirring, getting up from the couch and padding closer to him. She pauses just before she reaches him.

“Do you think he noticed the shirts?” She asks quietly.

Yuuta sighs, finally lifting his head from the door only to throw it back and stare at the ceiling. He doesn’t want to see how worried he’s sure his expression looks. He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea about the regret pooling in his stomach.

“Probably” He admits in a quiet groan.

(y/n) shuts her eyes as she winces, covering her face with her hands.

The tension in the room is no longer due to sexual desire overtaking their inhibitions. It was awkward. Painfully awkward.

“I feel so stupid,” She mumbles into her hands.

Yuuta’s head snaps towards her, taking in the shame in her body language. His heart sinks towards his stomach. Had they made a massive mistake? (y/n) drags her hands down her face before looking up at him, her brows drawn together with a knot of worry between them. Had he made a massive mistake?

“I am so- I’m so sorry,” She tells him weakly. “I shouldn’t have- that was- I was-”

She can’t even finish a thought, much less an explanation on how ridiculously impulsive and embarrassing that was. Her face is growing pale and she feels sick to her stomach. She couldn’t believe she’d just ruined one of the greatest friendships she’s ever had over a silly conversation with the Zen’in twins about a silly crush. She couldn’t believe she’d just ruined the perfect living situation with the perfect roommate over a crush that probably would've gone away on it’s own had she just handled it maturely.

“It’s okay-” He starts to say, trying to find the right way to explain to her that he wasn’t upset in the slightest about what happened between them. He’d only been embarrassed about practically getting caught. He knew their friends well, and he was sure that Toge wasn’t the only one to notice the swap of shirts. Surely Maki and Mai had already been given an earful about the whole ordeal.

Before he can say anything else, (y/n’s) cutting him off.

“I should go to bed,” Her voice is too soft to overpower his, but he shuts up as soon as she speaks. “I’m… I’m really sorry, Yuuta,”

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in her sad, apologetic eyes. She really meant it. She really felt guilt over what had happened. His stomach twists with disturbance, and fear.

“Please forgive me, I… I hope you can forget about… that”

Forget? No…

But she’s turning away from him, running her hands through her hair in a stressful manner as she quickly darts for her room. Yuuta’s left standing at their door, wide eyed and open mouthed in his shock.

Did that all really just happen?

His palm comes up to cover his mouth, the realization settling into his bones and making his blood run cold.

God, it did, it really did.

He’s slow as he puts the switch remotes back on the console to charge, before turning off all the lights and going to his own room. He unzips his pants and kicks them off somewhere in his room before crawling into bed, not bothering to change into something proper to sleep in, or take off the sweater he’d accidentally stolen. He lays on his back, eyes focused on the blank ceiling of his bedroom as he replays it all over and over in his mind.

(y/n) also sits awake in her bedroom. But she’s far from frozen. She repeatedly kicks the covers off herself before tugging them back on, undecided on if she was hot or cold. She’d abandoned her pants and laid awake in Yuuta’s tee shirt, the scent of his cologne and something else that was distinctly him still clinging to the fabric. Tears welled in her eyes as she curled in on herself, hugging her pillow to her chest in a desperate attempt to seek comfort.

Neither one of them gets much sleep. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

812 notes · View notes

elvenbeard · 8 months

Text

Chances

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic

Summary: Mr. Blue-Eyes' offer indeed surpassed V's wildest expectations... but his and Kerry's views on how to move forward now begin to diverge. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 9/?, 6893 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V - notes at the end) >> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

The drive back home came close to what Kerry imagined hell to feel like. It was getting dark, and yet, the city was so bright, so colorful… it pissed him off. The radio, usually tuned to V’s favorite radio station, was silent. Kerry gripped the steering wheel until his shoulders hurt from tension. He dared a quick glance in V’s direction. Pale, sweaty, he still looked like shit as he tightly clutched the half-empty water bottle Kerry had gotten him from the first SCSM they’d come across.

“Did… ya text Rogue back yet?” Kerry asked carefully, his voice croaky, too loud really for the quiet between them.

V didn’t even react, stared blankly ahead.

“V?”

Nothing. Wherever he was with his thoughts, he wasn’t here with him. Kerry looked back on the road, eyes fixated on the taillights of the truck ahead, focused on the droning engine, the bumps in the road.

“You’re probably not really hungry, huh?” he tried to strike up a conversation, get V out of his thought spiral, “But I’m starvin’. Was thinking, what about that noodle place? Ah fuck, what’s it called… Somethin’ somethin’ Panda… They have that soup that’s – …”

“Kerry,” V interrupted him hoarsely, and Kerry quickly turned his head. V’s eyes, dark and tired, locked with his, and it stung.

“’preciate it,” V added, “But I’m really not in the mood.”

“Okay, fine,” Kerry shrugged, and despite being brushed off, he was happy to have V’s attention back, have him out of his head, at least for now.

He took the next exit that would lead them directly into the heart of Watson.

“Y’know, we don’t have to go home yet, either,” he then tried a different approach, “Could pick up the cat and drive up to North Oak, too. Slightly belated weekend getaway. Or early…”

“Kerry, please,” V sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I love you, but… just shut up. Please.”

Now… that hurt. More than he’d expected it to.

“Okay. Sorry,” Kerry said, resigning. He wanted nothing more than do or say something, anything, to cheer V up. But all things considered… that was probably an impossible task, at this point in time at least. He was relieved when their building finally came into sight. He counted the seconds until they’d be able to get out of the too cramped car, leave the noisy, bright highway behind, return into their home, their safe space.

Nibbles greeted them expectantly, purring and meowing, dancing around their feet as they entered the penthouse. V briefly bent down to pet her, then, without further words, trailed off towards the patio door. The sun had just set, but the garden and pool area were well-lit at night, and so the cat slipped outside with him and ran off. Kerry stayed back in the kitchen, utterly lost and frozen, unable to do anything but stare after V as he disappeared around the corner and down the stairs. Kerry decided not to follow him just yet. He himself was trying to process still what they had seen at Blue-Eyes’ lab, couldn’t even begin to imagine V’s mind right now. What this would mean for them, their future… Whether they still had one beyond two, three months after all of this today.

As soon as he felt ready to move again without fearing his knees could give way, Kerry walked to the small chamber adjacent to the kitchen that V had turned into his armory. He pulled his gun from his pocket and set it back down in its place in the gun locker. Then he took off his jacket and went upstairs.

The bathroom door slid open, the sink turned on automatically as he held out his hands, as did the large mirror screen when he stepped in front of it. He splashed some water into his face, washing off the grime and dust of a too-long day. His hands found purchase on the rim of the sink, sleek and cold, and he looked his reflection in the eyes. Cold and blue and artificial, ironically. He’d noticed V averting his gaze on the way out of that corpo-wet-dream of a building, and he wondered if those had been the reason…

Raising his chin slightly he ran his fingers through his beard that seemed to be getting grayer each day. He continued down his throat, along the shimmering black and gold of his voice box, golden lines trailing down the sides of his neck to his collarbones and sternum. It wasn’t so wrong. There was little that was a hundred percent “natural” about his body anymore. All of his implants had been choices he’d made, willingly, or “willingly”. Deaf and half-blind and voiceless he’d be, a fine rockstar, had he not done this or that at some point out of sheer necessity. ‘Ganic bodies weren’t exactly made for excess, and what had his career been if not a 70-something-year-long excess in one way or another?

Were some bits and pieces of his chrome, the procedures he’d gone through, pure vanity, too? Maybe. Probably. And a handful of things, his eyes for example, were marketing stunts, brand-deals… He didn’t even have to sign those, but he did anyway, because at the time it hadn’t really mattered. He’d just done what he’d been told to do, by Kovachek, Louise even, and others. If Kiroshi pays, why not try something new, something different, anything to get out of the agonizing rut, to stand out in the endless media swamp, to look someone else in the eyes in the bathroom mirror…

But at no point ever had someone told Kerry “if you don’t get this done, you’ll die”. Or, well… maybe at least not this blatantly, threateningly as Blue-Eyes had told V today. And no procedure had been as all-encompassing as the one to supposedly safe V’s life.

Was Kerry still the same man as ten, twenty years ago? Hell no, neither physically nor mentally. But he didn’t have too many positive feelings towards that Kerry anyway. He liked himself how he was like now, more or less. Most days. And he liked himself mostly, because V liked him the way he was. Including all the imperfections, the grey hairs and wrinkles, despite only being alive and making music still thanks to his abundant implants.

His hand slipped down and landed on the sink again. He broke eye contact with his reflection, looked down onto the black stainless steel, almost polished enough so he saw himself in its sheen as well. The main difference between their situations was really that, even though not all his implants had been absolutely necessary, only a handful truly life-changing and -saving, the change had come gradually. Over decades. Not over the course of a few days with a nice, medically induced coma in-between… That thought still freaked him out the most. How would it even work? Would he drop off V at the lab and then pick him up again a few days later like nothing had happened, noticing no difference? What would Blue-Eyes do with his “old” body afterwards – what a fucked-up thing to even put into words. And what if something went wrong in the whole process… Would they even let Kerry know? Just how they’d been so eager to let him know “by the way, the love of your life will have to launch himself into space for a highly sketchy suicide mission”.

He shuddered, rubbed his face once more, gently slapped his own cheeks to stop himself from overthinking, drifting off too much. He had to stay in the present. After a final, short glance into the mirror, Kerry stepped away and left the bathroom again.

He passed their bed and walked to the window to look outside, simultaneously opening his belt. He wantedd to slip into something more comfortable than military-grade cargo pants. It took him a moment, but he eventually spotted V sitting by the pool, one foot hanging into the water. The cat was nearby, playing on the lawn, but V paid her no mind. Kerry tossed his pants over a chair and snatched a pair of V’s ridiculously colorful joggers, and he went back downstairs after putting them on.

The flooring of the patio was still warm against his bare feet, even the grass on the way to the pool, dry and ticklish. Kerry carefully approached, a steaming mug in each hand, and cleared his throat from a distance as to not startle V too much. It worked, V turned his head quickly; and Kerry’s heart stung at seeing his eyes and nose reddish and swollen, his eyeliner a mess.

“Hey…” he said quietly, gently handing V one of the mugs as he reached him. V laughed weakly and took the cup with his healthy hand, sniffling and wiping his face with his other sleeve. He had both feet in the water now, his boots kicked off onto the lawn behind him.

“Thanks,” he said quietly as Kerry sat down next to him, legs crossed.

“Just some green tea, nothin’ fancy,” he said, trying his best to hold himself back, not be too in V’s face and personal space just yet, “But the good ‘ganic stuff you like.”

“Yeah, I can smell that,” V chuckled without looking up from his mug, swirling it slightly.

Kerry took a sip from his own, then scooched slightly closer to V so their shoulders touched. V didn’t flinch back or otherwise indicated he needed distance still, which was something at least. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Night City’s colorful skyline reflected in the blue-glowing pool. The night was loud and quiet at the same time.

“Sorry that I told you to shut up,” V eventually said.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Kerry waved.

“No, it’s not…”

“No, really, V, it’s fine. I was pushin’ it. I’m not mad.”

There was a short pause.

“Still could’ve been nicer ‘bout it,” V insisted then, also drinking from his tea now.

Stubborn as always, but that was just one of the many things Kerry loved so much about him. If he’d set out to do something, V would move heaven and hell to accomplish it. At least, so far he always had.

Eventually, V leaned over to rest his head on Kerry’s shoulder. Kerry’s heart was close to exploding, with love and with pain and every other emotion he’d ever felt. He reached out to wrap his right arm loosely around V’s back.

“We had a good run,” V then said quietly, but he could’ve just punched him right in the throat instead.

Kerry swallowed hard, bit his lip.

“Yeah…” he then just nodded. He took a deep breath.

“Maybe… sleep on it, before you make a final decision?” he added, his voice almost giving in. But he’d forever hate himself if he didn’t at least try to talk this through. Together, like they should.

“I mean… I don’t wanna pressure you I’m just… You really had high hopes for this, invested so much time…”

And time truly was the most valuable resource V had left to give right now.

“I honestly don’t know what I expected,” V then said without looking up, voice and expression tired, defeated, “But not… this.”

“It could be a chance,” Kerry carefully insisted, “I mean, don’t wanna know what kinda price tag this tech would have on the free market.”

“I don’t think this is something intended to be readily available for everyone as long as they got deep enough pockets,” V said, “I think they pick and choose their ‘clients’ very carefully.”

“But… ah, fuck,” Kerry sighed and now V sat up straight again, put his mug down, and reached out to gently turn Kerry’s head, have him look him in the eyes.

“Kerry… I can’t,” he said, with a seriousness and conviction that broke Kerry’s heart, “I… if someone had come to me with an opportunity like this ten years ago, I’d jumped at it. Sign me the fuck up, a body however I want it without any immediately visible downsides? There’s probably millions of people who’d love this, for just as many reasons. But…”

He let his hand sink, placed it around Kerry’s holding onto his own mug still.

“I’ve been through hell and back with his body. This is my body, this is who I am. I already couldn’t give it to Johnny, I could never just… hand it over to these people. Exchange it for a copy – a good one, presumably – but a copy nonetheless. My mind already doesn’t feel like my own anymore some days.”

Kerry didn’t know what to say in response for a moment.

“Maybe,” he wondered, “You wouldn’t notice a difference.”

“Maybe,” V shrugged, “But what if you did?”

Kerry gasped. That horrifying thought hadn’t even occurred to him yet. He had clearly noticed V’s behavioral changes over the last weeks, sneaking into their routines and conversations. Would he move differently around the house, feel like someone else, a stranger, when Kerry only sensed his presence in another room? Would all his little moles and freckles still be in the right spots where he loved to tease and touch him? Would his hair, his skin still smell the same? Hell, would sleeping with him still feel the same, his lips, his mouth, his breath, his kisses?

And what if not?

V withdrew his hand and looked back across the water, to the skyscrapers on the other side of the street canyon.

“You’ve known me without Johnny longer than with him now. And you didn’t know me before. But lemme tell you, I was a different person then either way.”

“People change,” Kerry said in an attempt to ease the tangible tension. They were held together by a rubber band only just not snapping yet.

“Not like this, no,” V shook his head vehemently, “People normally don’t come back from the dead in the first place – twice – and they don’t come back unchanged. And also, even if Blue-Eyes has a new and better Soulkiller up his sleeve, going through that again… That almost disturbs me more than knowing that my scars will be fake, my tattoos, my entire existence...”

He sighed, ran his hand through his hair and paused. Then he pulled his feet out of the water and turned around to fully face Kerry now, rolled up his right sleeve and extended his bare arm. V had a small, faded tattoo of the Ursa Major constellation on his biceps that he pointed to.

“That little stick-and-poke will no longer have been done by a former friend when we were 17 and he was piss-drunk. That’s why it’s crooked. Not ‘cause some machine perfectly copied the shapes and the color of the ink he used,” he explained, “They’re gonna use fine tattoo needles or even a thermal laser instead of the thick piercing needle we’d bought from a shady Ripper. They’ll just replicate how it looks, without the memories attached, and if my mind doesn’t end up completely fried, I’ll always know that.”

His hands wandered to his chest, grabbed at his t-shirt.

“These scars won’t be uneven because I went back to work too early instead of resting my ass two weeks longer, scared Jenkins would make me obsolete otherwise. With that new body they’ll be uneven ‘cause a computer just generated them like that, however they’re even gonna do it. If they even let me keep them…”

His fingers traced along the cyberware on his throat.

“What is this even going to be apart from fashionware? Is my voice going to be the same as it is now, will I have to go through a voice break again, am I gonna sound different cause everything is just artificially reproduced, copied, the ‘ganic parts of my body and the cyberware?”

Then he pointed to his temple, eyes gleaming ice-cold in the pale blue pool lights.

“Even the scar on my head from fuckin’ Dex’ bullet is going to be fake.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, struggling with that so distant yet still so present memory. Then he looked back up at Kerry, continuing to point his finger against his temple in a way Kerry did not like all, his heart was racing.

“All these stories are going to be lies, if I go through with this procedure,” V said angrily, desperately, “What does that make me in the end? The more often you copy somethin’, the more little fragments get lost or change forever. How many copies does it take for me to completely lose myself, to fully destroy the little bits and pieces that are left of me, still visible through the blur that’s taken over my life ever since I walked out of Mikoshi?”

He suddenly winced, his hand still at his temple now grabbing onto his own hair tightly, and he closed his eyes as he hunched over in pain.

“V!”, Kerry almost dropped his mug to quickly grab V’s shoulders, scared he might collapse into the pool if he didn’t hold him.

“It’s… it’s fine,” V groaned, “I think I puked out all the pills earlier.”

“I can go inside and get ‘em for ya real quick,” Kerry suggested, still on high alert, but V carefully shook his head.

“No, I’ll…” he paused, “It’s okay.”

I’ll live, is what he wanted to say. It was like all air was sucked from Kerry’s lungs.

“V just…” he tried his best to keep it together. He had to remind himself that in the end V was the one to truly face the full consequences of this decision. And yet…

“Promise me to think it over. I mean, fuck, yeah… it’s creepy and scary as hell. But at least give it a night’s rest.”

“Kerry, I won’t change my mind… and I think I made it clear, why.”

“Please. For me,” he begged, no longer able to hide his pain. He pulled V into his arms, held him too tightly really, pressed against his aching chest… But like this at least V wouldn’t see him hurting.

“Even if you don’t change your mind,” Kerry pleaded, “Think it over.”

V sighed, then hugged him back, buried his face against Kerry’s shoulder. He was stubborn as hell… deep down Kerry already knew his opinion would remain the same the next day. But he’d hold on to the hope for as long as he could. The only thing scarier than Mr. B’s proposal was the thought of waking up in a bed with V’s side of it empty.

The night was too quiet, too short. Kerry woke up every other hour, from intrusive thoughts and nightmares alike, each time making sure V was still beside him, still breathing. Every time he fell asleep again it was wondering how he could convince him, what arguments to bring forward, raking his brains for good, important reasons that could sway him after all. In a way, he was simultaneously trying to convince himself that this was a good idea, a good plan to move forward with.

When the sun began to rise, the room felt like the pool the night before, cold, plunged into pale blue light. Kerry turned over for the thousandth time, watching the silhouette of V’s chest rise and fall for a while. His eyes were burning with tiredness, his stomach hurt from hunger, and he had a headache. The day could only get shittier from now on, and yet… Kerry tried to seize every awful, unpleasant second, burn it into his brain to not ever forget the peaceful sight ahead of him accompanying his pain and anger.

After a couple minutes he pondered whether he should peel himself out of bed, go for an early swim, make some breakfast for them both. Hell, he probably should’ve continued working on Shivers, because Lee would damn well call him soon enough about a timeslot to book a recording booth for. But all Kerry wanted was to stay in bed with V all day, all night, all week, forever.

But then V shuffled, turned around. Almost as if he’d sensed that Kerry had been watching him. His eyes opened slowly and after a short pause a soft smile appeared on his lips.

“Mornin’,” he then half-mumbled, half-yawned into his pillow, “Urgh… too early.”

“Yeah,” Kerry replied, voice scratchy with sleep still.

V sighed heavily and closed his eyes again, and Kerry scooched up to him, carefully sliding an arm under his head, the other around his shoulder. V slung his arms around Kerry’s waist in return and nuzzled his face against the crook of Kerry’s neck. Their chests were close like this, only just not touching, but Kerry could’ve sworn to feel the slow and steady rhythm of V’s heartbeat anyway.

The question whether or not he’d changed his mind, might consider Mr. B’s offer after all, was burning on Kerry’s tongue. But at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin the moment. The peace and quiet of resting in his lover’s arms, safe and sound... More than a lover, really. V was his soulmate, however too cheesy that was to ever say it out loud.

“Wanna know what Judy said yesterday?” V then suddenly asked, voice muffled against Kerry’s chest.

“What?” Kerry asked back, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

V took a deep breath.

“She said… what if we’d just let it happen.”

Kerry couldn’t help himself but clutch V a little tighter.

“Just let… what happen?” he asked despite knowing the answer already.

“What if I’d stop running myself into the ground for a cure that doesn’t exist,” V added, very calmly and collected. Kerry swallowed heavily.

“Spend the time I still got with you. Not busting my ass for some creepy psychos’ secret agendas anymore.”

“V, I…” Kerry barely got the words out, but V interrupted him right away anyway.

“I know… I know,” he whispered, pressing himself against him even closer, so much so that Kerry could definitely feel his heart racing in his chest now, just as fast if not faster than his own.

“I don’t wanna lose you either,” V breathed against his skin, warm and soft, making Kerry shiver with fear, and love, and hurt, “But I’d rather have you for three more months, than just a couple days or weeks… Our time together interrupted by crazy gigs that could kill me even sooner cause I’m growing numb to their danger.”

The first sunrays finally climbed over the skyline outside, stretching to embrace Kerry and V, drive away the cold of the night.

“Remember the mornin’ after the yacht?” V asked.

“’Course I do.”

Kerry would never forget that morning. That whole day really. Probably the most perfect day he’d experienced in his entire, too-long life he’d lived.

They’d woken up in V’s old apartment together, and hell, it had been hard to keep their hands off each other that morning. The night before they’d fucked, and it had been good, cathartic even… But that morning they’d made love to each other, romantic as fuck, so many little kisses and touches and whispers. It had been so good, healing, just right. Then they’d had to get ready together in that tiny, cramped bathroom, and gone for breakfast at a diner around the corner ‘cause H10 didn’t have any decent coffee shops at the time. Kerry had been wearing some of V’s clothes that he’d borrowed him, his favourite t-shirt, and some worn out boots because it had been the only pair somewhat fitting Kerry. Then they just spent hours talking, driving around the city, really getting to know each other, beyond all the Relic-crap and Us-Cracks-drama. Kerry still remembered how everything had clicked right into place with V. How having him around felt like finally being understood, as if they’d known each other all their lives already. V told him later that he fell in love with him for good that morning. Thinking back now, Kerry could only second this. Even though it had taken them another month and a half to finally say it out loud. Kerry really hadn’t wanted to go home that day, part ways, but V promised he’d be there for the night again. And he always kept his promises…

“That morning,” V continued, “With all the uncertainty at the time still… not knowing whether I’d see the next week, the next day, one thing I knew for sure. Whatever time I’d’ve left, I wanted to spend it with you. And I think I lost sight of that thought these last few months. Time to remember it again.”

“Fuck,” was all that Kerry managed to utter, as he closed his eyes and clung to V, forehead against forehead, V hissing in pain just slightly but not backing away, leaning into Kerry’s touch even more instead.

“Yeah,” V said then said, voice brittle, “Fuck all of this so hard.”

Neither of them had a great desire to get up, let alone get anything done that day. They fell back asleep for a little while, basking in each other’s and the sun’s warmth. But past a certain time, V’s phone started ringing every couple of minutes and it just wouldn’t stop. Clients, old and new, an unknown number that could’ve been Mr. B trying to play his little games again, other Fixers trying to check in whether V was still in business, still alive even. At this point, V was used to their occasional teasing, but it was also beginning to get old. About an hour into the terror, in a spontaneous fit of frustration, V grabbed his phone from the nightstand and chucked it down the gallery. That finally earned him a hint of a smile back from Kerry.

“Bet I can toss mine further?” he instantly challenged.

“I’m not gonna go and measure, so I’ll just have to believe it I guess,” V shrugged with a smirk and Kerry huffed.

“Just scared you’ll lose against a guy three times your age.”

“Mh-hm, that’s it, for sure.”

Kerry sat up, his phone in hand already, aimed, and launched it towards the kitchen area. V didn’t see it, but certainly heard the shattering of ceramics as it hit its target in the shape of yesterday’s mugs in the sink.

“Impressive,” he chuckled as Kerry raised his arms victoriously, then let himself fall back into the pillows.

“Years of practice,” Kerry nodded proudly, then he scooched closer to V again, pulling him back into his embrace. V half expected him to try and start making out, which he wouldn’t have been in the mood for. But instead, Kerry hesitated. His fingertips began to trace along the lines of V’s chest tattoo, then to his shoulder, down his arm. He wasn’t sure what Kerry was looking at, everything, anything. There was an alertness in his eyes paired with an immense heaviness, carefulness in his movements. Like an archeologist unearthing an ancient artifact.

“You good?”

Kerry blinked, then softly shook his head.

“Tryin’ to come to terms with it still, I think,” he then said, “Will take some time.”

V’s heart sank, because Kerry not coming to terms with his death would worry him until the day was here. Suddenly though, Kerry’s eyes lit up, just as his hand reached the cast on V’s wrist.

“What about that doctor? Fuentes?” he perked up.

“What about her?” V asked, a little confused.

Kerry froze for a second, then he sat back up again, making a “what the fuck” kind of face at him that V didn’t appreciate.

“What about her… She said she wanted to help, obviously?”

V sighed. He carefully sat up as well. His muscles were still sore, but it was getting better each day.

“I think she said somethin’ more like ‘lemme poke around in your head ‘cause I’ve never seen anything like this before’.”

Kerry shrugged.

“Even if so,” he said, “What does it hurt lettin’ her have another look before we just… throw the towel for good?”

“Kerry…” V said, and he tried his best to remain calm, forcing his voice to stay low, “I’m not throwing the towel. I’m fuckin’ dying. And I’m tired of being poked and prodded and getting’ my hopes up only to be slapped in the face over and over again as soon as they say ‘sorry, couldn’t help you after all’.”

“Urgh!” Kerry sat up quite abruptly now, burying his face in his hands. He wasn’t crying, but distraught regardless.

“Make it make sense to me!” it then burst out of him, and he dropped his hands, “Please, because I really don’t get it!”

“Didn’t I just do exactly that?” V shrugged and he also sat up fully.

“You’re this close to the finish line,” Kerry pinched his fingertips together, “And you just wanna give up, is what I’m seein’. ‘Cause you’re too stubborn to see your choices are affecting the people around you just as much!”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” V started to become infected by Kerry’s sudden sour mood, “Are you seriously pulling the ‘you don’t love me anymore if you don’t do what I want’ card on me now? ‘Cause that’s really fuckin’ low, Eurodyne.”

Kerry looked away again, rubbed his face.

“Fuck, I… need a cigarette.”

And with that he slipped out of bed and was down the stairs faster than V could say something else.

“Yeah, really fuckin’ mature for a guy three times my age!” he called after him in a moment of weakness, but he bit his tongue the same instant. The patio door opened and closed shortly after. V slumped back into bed, slammed a pillow on his face. Then he screamed until his voice gave in.

Half an hour or so had passed until V’s blood pressure had settled again, pillow, cold and blocking out all light, still on his face. His head was throbbing to a point where his optics began glitching, some kind of feedback loop for sure. One of the many symptoms that were becoming more frequent again, reminding him a little too much of the Relic’s random malfunctions back when Johnny was still around. V drowsily sat up and rubbed his eyes, then reached for the pill bottles on the nightstand. There were the new pills specifically to ease the Relic’s symptoms, prescribed by Vik, and then the regular painkillers Fuentes had given him for the concussion and his other injuries. He figured his current symptoms called for Vik’s. He’d forgotten to take them again the night before after barfing his usual evening dose onto Blue-Eyes’s doorstep, so it made sense he felt like crap now. Just like yesterday though, he struggled to get the bottle open with just one useable hand.

“Can you fuckin’ believe it,” he muttered to himself, a habit hard to let go of. Even after three months he half-expected a snarky response from somewhere in the back of his mind still.

Special Agent V, Arasaka Counterintelligence. Cannot even make it past child-safe packaging, would’ve surely been Johnny’s way to cheer him on right now.

“Shut up,” V responded almost automatically, only in his mind this time, and he began to wonder if this was what going crazy felt like. It sure as hell had felt like it back when this all was still fresh.

He still couldn’t get the bottle open, so he sat it down on the floor on its side and stepped on it, slowly increasing his weight on it in the hopes the lid would pop off like that. The fucking thing was surprisingly sturdy for a regular pill bottle, but not sturdy enough in the long run. The lid came loose with much more force than V anticipated, shooting against the gallery’s balustrade with a bang, and the bottle instantly cracked and crunched under his sole.

“Argh, fuck!” he cursed and stepped back, the dark grey plastic mutilated, a couple of the shiny black and blue pills spilled onto the bedroom floor. V sighed, then slowly bent down much to the disagreement of his headache. He picked up the bottle and tried to squeeze it back into its original shape without success. A closer inspection of its insides also revealed that some of the pills had been squashed and reduced to crumbs. V groaned even louder, sat the bottle down, picked up the remaining spilled pills, and then took everything downstairs with him to the kitchen. He sat the broken bottle on the counter and began looking for a different container that he could open up more easily in the future.

As he went from cabinet to cabinet his eyes wandered outside briefly, catching a glimpse of Kerry. V had to pause and stare for a moment at the sight, breathtaking and heartbreaking at the same time, washing away all his lingering anger. Kerry was still butt naked, as they both usually were fresh out of bed. His form was engulfed in golden light like an ancient statue, the sun accentuated his muscular arms, his lean waist, the slight curve of his legs. The majestic illusion was only distorted by Kerry’s hunched over posture, elbows resting on the balcony rail, face buried in his hands, cigarette between his fingers slowly smoldering away unsmoked. V interrupted his search to walk outside, shielding his eyes from the sun as best as he could.

Kerry turned his head at the sound of the door sliding open, then rubbed his face, lowered his hands. V said nothing, just walked over to hug him from behind, resting his head on his shoulder again. Kerry reached up to caress V’s arm, leaned his own head against his.

“Dunno what’s gotten into me,” he said quietly, “Dunno what to do with myself, and now I’m lettin’ it out on you, of all people.”

“It’s okay,” V softly shook his head and started smiling.

“It’s not,” Kerry said, but then had to smile realizing V had been doing the same thing to him the night before.

“Bunch of gonks we are,” he added then.

V slowly withdrew a little to better see Kerry’s face, brushing his hand through his hair, stroking his cheek. He looked as tired and as in pain as V was.

“I’m so worried you’re getting your hopes up about this as much again as I did before with Blue-Eyes’ promise. As we both did with all the doctors you managed to rally. As I still do with Panam and the Aldecaldos keeping their eyes and ears open somewhere down in Arizona. It’s just… not looking good right now,” V paused, “I just… dunno anymore. What I’d do if one more doctor tells me ‘there’s nothing we can do’. And I’d hate to see you get torn apart by it as well, even more so than you are already by the situation as a whole.”

Kerry listened quietly without looking up at him.

“I think,” he then slowly begun, “In the long run… I’ll manage. Somehow. I mean, not like I haven’t before.”

He then tried to smile at V, but it wasn’t really convincing with his eyes all teary.

“You’re my fuckin’ soulmate, Vince. There, I said it,” Kerry’s voice was shaky, and V shuddered, cursed under his breath. He wanted to say something, anything in response, but his mouth, tongue, vocal cords disobeyed him, paralyzed like they were so often lately. So, he just reached out and held Kerry again, a little tighter than before.

“I thought Johnny was, too,” Kerry added quietly, “And in a weird and fucked up, mutually abusive way, I guess we were. And I managed, somehow, when he was gone. But it’s gonna be so fucking hard to lose you, too, and I’d like to be sure, when the day comes, that we’ve at least looked into all available options. I don’t mind if everythin’ blows up in our faces again, over and over. As long as I can look myself in the eyes still and say, with conviction: we tried our hardest. If I’m selfish for not wantin’ you to die, then fine. Maybe I am. I’d rather be selfish than as detached and uninvolved in life as I’ve been for the majority of the last 50 years.”

V didn’t quite know what to respond to all of that, whether he needed to respond at all. His heart was so full and so empty at the same time, aching with the pain in Kerry’s voice, aching with pride for him not wanting to fall back into old patterns even though he clearly still struggled with it.

Eventually he knew what to settle for though.

“Okay… If you wanna try, even if it’s another disappointment, then I’ll talk to Fuentes again. I mean… gotta go back to get rid of that fucking cast anyway soon…”

Kerry slowly withdrew, quickly wiped across his face with the back of his hand, but his smile seemed a bit more genuine now.

“Okay,” he nodded, then gave V a quick kiss.

“But not Blue-Eyes… I can’t do that, I just… I can’t,” he shook his head, slowly, to not increase a sudden onset of dizziness, “It’s too far removed from anything I’m comfortable with. From what would be compatible with my self-worth. My sense of self, even.”

Kerry nodded, kissed him again.

“Okay.”

V’s chest was still weighed down by fear and sorrow and regret, having wasted so much time and risked so much for Blue-Eyes’ mission. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he could think clearly again. He began to wonder now, after sleeping on this huge reveal for a night, how despite so many red flags, so much distrust on both sides, it had even come this far. Why was Blue-Eyes so keen on putting him into a body worth at least a couple million eddies? And why had V not seen any of this coming, continued to believe there would be a gentle, easy solution to all his problems offered by someone as deeply unsettling and shrouded in mystery as this man?

“Let’s go back inside before the first best media drones spot us ‘ere,” Kerry suggested with a soft nudge and V followed him inside. Kerry put out his cigarette in an ashtray sitting on the kitchen counter and noticed the half-destroyed pill bottle.

“What happened there?” he frowned and nodded in its direction.

“Told ya, cannot get rid of that fuckin’ cast soon enough,” V grumbled and simply grabbed his favourite mug as the pills’ new temporary home.

Since some of them were crushed, he emptied the old bottle onto the kitchen counter first, to sort out the pills that were still good. He could already hear Vik scolding him, because this kinda stuff was expensive and hard to get his hands on. Not like “anti-Relic-insanity-pills” were something sold in every pharmacy. Vik had told him what they were exactly before, chemical formula, use cases and whatnot. Some of their components were used as an experimental treatment for cyberpsychosis, throw in mood stabilizers, pain killers and bam, treatment plan a la Ripperdoc complete.

Not that these details were important. They eased V’s symptoms for now, and that was all that mattered.

Kerry stood to the side, making coffee for them both now, but he watched over his shoulder now and then to make sure V was alright. V quickly and carefully plucked the intact pills from the dust and crumbs, absent-minded at first, beginning to make a list in his head of other alternatives he and Kerry could try and follow still, beyond Blue-Eyes, Fuentes, whatever the Aldecaldos may or may not find.

He didn’t want to die, not like this, not yet. He wanted to die in dignity, on his own terms, ideally older than 30 – pick not more than two, though, because this was Night City after all. He felt the burning urge to scream well up in his chest again, so he took a deep breath. Then suddenly something pricked his index finger.

“Ow, what the – …“

A droplet of blood rapidly grew at his fingertip, as if he’d been stuck with a needle. But obviously, there was nothing like that on the counter, just pill crumbs. He resisted his first impulse to put his finger in his mouth, instead reached for a paper towel to dab the blood.

“What happened?” Kerry asked, mildly concerned.

“I… dunno,” V said, removed the towel again. He could only just make out something that seemed like a tiny metallic splinter stuck in his skin before it was swallowed by pooling blood again. He loosely wrapped the towel around his finger, careful not to apply too much pressure, just wanting to prevent a mess. His thoughts began to race as he looked closer at the crumbled pills on the counter. More tiny metal pieces shimmered among the grey dust, seemingly baked into the center of the pills. Invisible as long as the pills were intact. But they were also all a bit too uniform, too manufactured looking to be random impurities caused by a faulty production process….

“We gotta pay Vik a visit,” V slowly looked up and met Kerry’s concerned gaze, “Right now.”

*****************

>> Next Chapter

*****************

Notes:

Last time I wondered whether V and Kerry would behave and they promptly started fighting ;A; Ngl, I cried a lot writing all of this, I don't like writing them fighting and upset (but also I love it, and I mean, they have their reasons and just suck at spelling them out).

No Judy cameo just yet, but we're getting there, I promise! Next time we first gotta pay our favourite Ripperdoc a visit and hopefully he can do some explaining on those "new pills" (<- inspo for these comes from one possible line Kerry has in the Sun ending!)

Requested Fic Update Tags:

@humberg @r3d-f0x-blog @thatinternetwanderer @localtranspigeon @projectdanse @kharonion @genocidalfetus @seeker-of-truth 💜

If you’d also like to get tagged when I post a new chapter for this fic, leave a reply on [this post] or send me a DM!

If you do not want to receive further notifications, shoot me a quick DM and I’ll take you off the list again!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk #cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #cyberpunk kerry #kerry eurodyne x v #kerry eurodyne #cyberpunk 2077 spoilers #otp: to bad decisions #vincent ezaki #my writing #love is stored in the olive jar

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

Healing Touch | Part 1

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: light SMUT (imaginary?), mentions of blood/injury ❧ Word Count: 4.3k

❧ Requested by @hereditarydeath (thank you!)

❧ Summary: Daryl has a problem, a big problem: he’s got a schoolboy crush on Alexandria’s resident nurse, and when he finds himself injured, he can no longer avoid you. Your touch is enough to get him riled up.

❧ A/N: Loved this idea! I went with the smut being in Daryl's head because we all know he's a little too shy to act on it right away. Though we do get some flirting and general sexual tension... And also a not so little surprise.

The door shot open with a crash as the doorknob hit the adjacent wall, shaking the picture frames that had been left behind from whoever had once occupied the modest suburban home turned infirmary.

You rose from your desk with a startle and scurried quickly to the front room where you were faced with the bloody, mangled sight of Daryl Dixon, or at least, you thought that was his name. You hardly knew him, and spent most of your time studying medical textbooks in the infirmary. There was never any time to socialize these days, not when you were one of the few people in Alexandria who had a medical background.

The man truly looked a sight, with bright red blood trickling down the side of his face and abrasions all over his right arm and leg, where his pants had been torn and tattered.

“Sit down,” you told him right away, turning to wash your hands in the kitchen sink before putting on a sterile pair of exam gloves.

He moved hesitantly towards the counter turned exam table, slowed by his painful injuries and his reluctance to be seen by you.

You, the woman he barely knew but who had unwittingly become the center of his more affectionate thoughts. The hold you had over him was half the reason he was injured in the first place.

Riding down the road towards Alexandria, he must’ve lost control for a moment when he and his bike went sideways, and he ended up skidding across the pavement, ripping his skin to shreds and finally hitting his head on the traffic barrier.

In that moment, just before crashing, he had found himself immersed in one of his favorite fantasies—you naked, wrapped up in his sheets, squirming and panting underneath him as he thrusted inside of you, over and over and over again…

He was always distracted these days, with intrusive thoughts and lusty images of you bombarding him every time he had a moment to think. At first it seemed like something he could’ve remedied by relieving himself, but soon he found out that nothing could quite quench his thirst for you, not even that.

So he tried to keep his distance, admiring you from afar without ever coming into direct contact with you.

“Where’s the doctor… Pete or somethin’?” he asked, sitting himself down on the counter and wincing in pain.

You turned and picked up a small flashlight from your portable caddy. “He’s not working today,” you informed him, flicking on the flashlight and shining it on his head wound. “It’s just me, but I can treat you.”

There was that face, right in front of him, with furrowed brows as you pulled back his hair and tried to find the source of the blood dripping down the side of his face. He swallowed hard, trying not to remind himself of yet another fantasy.

The one in which you ran your fingers through his hair as he licked you, his head in between your thighs, devouring your soaking wet pussy, tracing your slit and drawing tight circles around your clit. He’d tongue at you hard, making you whimper and whine in pleasure as your thighs squeezed the sides of his head.

“Oh, Daryl!” you’d cry, clawing at his scalp and grasping desperately at his hair as you came all over his mouth. You’d cry out his name some more, with your voice getting more and more breathy as your body twitched and writhed with the bliss he’d made you feel with his attentive tongue.

“Daryl?” you asked, but your voice sounded much more stable, more direct and with a much less orgasmic quality. “Can you hear me?”

You were a little worried now, shining your flashlight in his eyes until he shook himself out of it. “What happened?” you asked.

“Nothin’,” he said. “I mean… I had an accident.”

“On your bike, I’m assuming.” Your narrowed eyes scanned his body looking for any indications that he might need skin grafts for his road rash. Luckily, it appeared that the abrasions were mostly superficial, but you could tell they spread across his chest and up his thighs on his right side.

“This is road rash,” you said. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”

“Yeah,” he huffed, trying to avoid looking down the prominent dip in the top of your dress as you bent over to look more closely at the bright red scrape on his leg, peeking out through the holes of his jeans. “I got ‘em before. Ain’t nothin’. It’s this head thing… I hit it pretty bad on the barrier. Hurts somethin’ awful.”

You straightened up to look at his head again. “Well, it’s not deep, and the bleeding has stopped. You probably have a concussion from the pressure, but that’s no big deal. Besides the headache, have you been having seizures or memory loss?”

“Nah,” he said. “Jus’ hurts, and a little dizzy. Kinda nauseous, too. Vision’s a little blurry.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, moving back to the sink to prepare an alcohol pad. “Sounds like a concussion. Still, I’ll do a neurological exam, make sure it’s not something more serious like brain swelling.”

Brain swelling, he thought to himself. Sounds about right.

His brain seemed to be swelling the minute he started thinking about you, and something else started swelling up, too.

He shifted uncomfortably as you checked his reflexes, hitting his knee gently with the reflex hammer.

Your hands being so close to where he’d imagined you pulling his length, just before taking it into your mouth as you touched yourself, moaning in pleasure… Well, he was beginning to get a little excited.

“What’s your name?” you asked him, rousing him from his concentration on trying not to get a noticeable hard-on right in front of you.

“Wh-what?”

“Just making sure you know it,” you said with a smile. “And it’d be good to have it on file. Keep this place somewhat official.”

God, she’s beautiful.

“Uh, right… Daryl.”

You moved back to the other side of the kitchen to pick up your journal from the counter.

“Middle name?”

He shrugged. “Don’t got one.”

“Last name… Dixon?”

She knows my last name.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you seem to know who you are, so that’s good. I would ask you what day it is but I’m not entirely sure of that myself. Your reflexes seem fine, too, so I’m sure you have a minor head injury. We can give you pain meds for that. Now let’s patch you up.”

He shook his head. “Nah, that ain’t necessary.”

There was no way he was going to let you touch him, not when images of your hands all over him were still so fresh in his mind, and pervasive in their attempts to arouse him.

Moving to your caddy, you pushed it over to him with a smile. “Nonsense. These might be superficial but if you don’t clean them properly you risk exposing them to infection. And that gash on your head is going to need a few stitches.” You reached your hand out to brush back his hair, messy and tangled with bits of gravel and dirt.

The stitches were the worst part, but somehow they were the most painless stitches he’d ever received. Maybe it was because he found himself falling back into his imagination, imagining the sting of the needle threading through his skin more like the puncture of your fingernails clawing at his back. There was also just the proximity of your body, the smell of your floral perfume tickling his nose with every movement you made, the concentration in your eyes as you precisely threaded each stitch, and twirled the little string in perfect knots until the wound was completely closed.

“Nice,” you said with a smile, adorably happy with your work. “The good thing is that if it scars, it’ll be hidden by your hairline.” You brushed back his hair again, sending a little tremble through his body. He couldn’t get enough of your hands in his hair, and he decided it was a sensation he would have to remember for later.

“Thanks,” he said with a slight crack in his nervous voice. “Ya really don’ gotta do anythin’ else. I can clean the rash.”

You shook your head firmly. “No way. All the medical equipment you’d need for that is right here. Besides, what kind of medical professional would I be if I didn’t completely treat my patient?” You smirked at him playfully, and he was just glad you seemingly hadn’t noticed how nervous he was.

“First thing’s first,” you continued, “I’m going to need you to take off that vest and your shirt.”

He swallowed hard, and a fresh wave of panic surged through his mind like a record-breaking tsunami, tearing down every ounce of self-control he had. How on Earth was he supposed to let you see him shirtless, and, God forbid, to have you touch his bare arms and chest? He’d dreamed about your hands trailing up and down his biceps, admiring his well-developed muscles and his broad chest.

He’d practically felt your hands settling on his abdomen as you rode him, thrusting your core over his and letting his cock snake deeper and deeper inside of you. He wondered if you’d like his body, if you’d find him strong and masculine enough to make you feel safe against him, wrapped up in his arms at night after sharing in the most intimate experience two people could possibly have.

Yeah, if he took his shirt off now, he was sure he’d go braindead, and then that would be another problem.

“Ya sure that’s necessary?”

You turned on the sink to fill a large glass bowl with hot water. “Yes, Daryl. It’s necessary. Don’t worry, I’ve seen plenty of shirtless men. It’s not that interesting to me anymore.”

That was a lie. Daryl was attractive, you had to admit, and although you’d seen plenty of his big, toned arms before, thanks to his proclivity to wear sleeveless shirts, you’d often fantasized about him shirtless.

“If you’re not comfortable with it—”

“Nah,” he said quickly.

Don’t be such a pussy, his more impulsive self told him. She wants ya shirtless, to wash you up, touch you. Man up and let ‘er take care of ya.

He attempted to pull his vest off, but was met with a difficulty: the pain from the grazing the bright red rash all along his right arm. “Ah,” he hissed.

You set the bowl and washcloth down on the counter next to him before helping.

“Here,” you said, pulling back the vest and resting it gently on the back of a chair. “You know, you should really wear long sleeves when you’re biking. A helmet would do wonders, too.”

He huffed as he began buttoning down his shirt. “Never wore a helmet on my bike.”

You helped him peel off his shirt next, exposing his bare shoulder. Your eyes were transfixed on the little freckles from sun exposure, which you always found to be quite cute, even if they worried you a little.

“I’m assuming you never put sunscreen on your shoulders either?”

He jolted a little when he felt your hand on his shoulder, gently trailing over the lightly pigmented spots.

“I uh… N-no.”

“Hm,” you hummed, smiling a little at just how warm his shoulder was. “Well, they’re cute, these little sunspots.”

He averted his gaze and swallowed hard as you cleared your throat, realizing you weren’t here to admire the details of Daryl’s body. You trailed your eyes back down his arm, covered in road rash. Once he had his left arm out from the other sleeve, his chest was exposed, and it was clear that the rash hadn’t spared him there, either.

“Oh, boy,” you sighed, tilting your head in worry at the red scrapes all over his skin, dangerously close to grazing his right nipple, too. Just as you feared, there were also clumps of gravel lodged in the wounds that you were going to have to pull out. “I’m going to need some forceps.”

You went to work cleaning his arm and the right side of his chest and abdomen, washing away the thin layer of blood and dirt, and gently picking out the bits of gravel all the while.

Despite the slight pain of you prodding at him with a pair of forceps, the feeling of the hot water dripping over his wounds soothed any pain he might’ve had, and the fact that you were rubbing that washcloth all over him was probably helping a little, too.

When you started rubbing him directly with your gloved hands, covered with antibiotic ointment, it was more like receiving a massage than a medical procedure.

At some point, his head went back a little, and he closed his eyes, imagining a more intimate setting in which you might be rubbing him, pampering him after a long day of hard work, which would ultimately result in him inside you, riding you out until he felt that relief only you could bring him, even if you didn’t know it.

“That feel good?” you asked softly, and to Daryl’s horror, that was just the kind of thing you’d said to him before, usually in between licking up and down the shaft of his throbbing cock.

He shifted his weight on the counter and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “We almost done?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What, you’re not enjoying it?”

Quite the opposite, really. He was enjoying it too much, but his reddened face and his darting, frantic eyes gave you the impression that he was nervous, and it was very cute.

“N-no, jus’...” He trailed off, looking up into your face steadily for a moment when he realized just how in over his head he was. There was no way he could ever say no to you, not to that face, not to that body, perfectly proportioned and beautiful as it was. It called out to him, begging for him to hold you in his arms and please you in whatever way he could, to draw heavenly little moans and gasps from your trembling lips as he touched you, devoured you, entered you…

“Daryl?”

“What?” He perked up from his imagination, shaking his head a little and eliciting a laugh from you.

Could he be any more dreamy?

“Take off your pants,” you instructed. “I need to clean your legs now. Then we can bandage you all up and you’re good to go.”

Is this really happening? he asked himself.

“Are ya sure?”

You were taken aback with amusement. “Well, yeah. I asked, didn’t I?”

Dumbass. The woman of your dreams just asked you to take off your pants. Take your goddamn pants off.

“Right,” he said, and stood up to strip himself, unbuckling his belt and darting his eyes between you and his legs. “My, um… My underwear, too?”

You crossed your arms with a shrug. “Not unless you’ve got another rash I don’t know about.”

“N-no!” he exclaimed, and quickly caught himself being a little too eager to assure you that he did not have any other rashes to attend to. “I—I mean, I’m all good… Down there. Real good. Nothin’ to worry about.”

Nice one, dickhead.

“Good,” you said, turning around to begin refilling the bowl with new water. “Just the pants, then. You can keep your dignity today.”

You turned around with the new hot water and a fresh washcloth to an almost naked Daryl, who looked even better than you imagined.

God, you thought. It’s been so long… and he’s so hot.

Now you even appeared a little nervous, freezing in place with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth, which did not go unnoticed by Daryl. He’d seen those eyes and those lips open for him so many times in his head before, but the sight would never fail to render him speechless.

“Well,” you sighed, and wrapped around the counter to the living room where you procured a throw pillow from the couch, “lie down.” You placed the pillow approximately where Daryl’s head would line up. He looked at you curiously. “Go on.”

He scoffed and shook his head before obliging your request, resting his head on the pillow. “You’re one bossy doctor.”

“Nurse,” you corrected, and began picking out the gravel from his wounds again, this time on his legs. “I was a nurse before all this. ER nurse, actually. I saw a lot of stuff like this, but trust me, you’re lucky. It could have been a lot worse. I’ve done skin grafts, helped with amputations and emergency surgery… Lots of motorcycle accidents. Always these big tough guys thinking nothing can hurt them, and then all of a sudden, they’re in the hospital fighting for their lives.” Looking up at his face, you noticed he seemed a little… uncomfortable. “Sorry,” you laughed. “I’m sure that won’t happen to you.”

He shrugged. Really, though, he was straining himself, trying to keep himself from developing a problem in his boxer briefs.

You hadn’t even noticed yourself, but you had gotten incredibly close to his upper thighs, rubbing the rash with warm water at the edge of his underwear. He’d been fighting this urge since he came in, but now that you were so close to where he needed you, touching him and doting on him like you were, he was having a hard time controlling it now.

“You all right?” you asked, noticing the intense straining on his face. “Am I hurting you?”

“Nah,” he huffed as he propped himself up on his elbows to get a look at what you were doing to him, and to make sure the hardening of his cock hadn’t become too noticeable. “Almost done?”

“Almost, just need to scrub a little more, make sure I got all the dirt out.”

As you rang out the cloth in the bowl, he couldn’t help but focus his eyes on the dip in your dress again, where even more than just your cleavage was revealed now. He felt like a pervert, trying to mentally peel back that baby pink lacy bra he saw just the beginning of. He found himself wondering what your breasts looked like, what they felt like.

What color were your nipples? Were your breasts perky or more bouncy, hard or soft to the touch? How far apart were they? Could he get his face in between them, feel their warmth on either side of his head as he kissed you there… Surely those nipples would feel lovely between his teeth, and on his wriggling tongue… In all honesty, he didn’t care what they looked like, how big or small they might’ve been, all he wanted was to watch them bounce up and down as your body moved with his, letting him take complete control over you until you were reduced to blissful tears.

That was it, the moment he couldn’t hold it any longer, and he could feel the tip of his cock rising and rubbing against the inside of his boxers.

“(Y/N),” he said seriously, beginning to move his legs over the edge of the counter, “I gotta go.” He covered his bulge with his hands, trying to hide it while not drawing attention to it.

“But we’re not done yet,” you said innocently. “I still have to put bandages on these, and give you some pain medication. It will only take ten minutes.”

He shook his head, reaching down to grab his pants. “Sorry, I gotta go.”

You dropped the cloth in the bowl and settled your hands on Daryl’s shoulders, tensed and shaking at the same time. You furrowed your brow at his reaction. “What’s wrong? Is there something else you’re not telling me? I can’t treat you properly if you’re hiding something, Daryl. Tell me.”

Your eyes trailed down to his package, where his hands had inadvertently drawn your attention to. They were trembling a little, covering up the embarrassment and shame of the erection his dirty mind and his desire for you had concocted.

“There is something going on down there, isn’t there?” you asked in a concerned tone. “Daryl, I’m a medical professional. I’ve seen it all, trust me. Do you need an exam down there?”

Shit! She thinks something’s wrong with my dick!

Well, there was something wrong with his dick, but not anything that couldn’t be fixed… Perhaps by your hands, or your mouth, or that beautiful, tight pussy that no doubt was tucked away somewhere underneath that pretty knee-length frock you wore under your lab coat… He bet it would be really nice to bend you over and take you from behind with that dress still on you.

There was no chance of that happening now, not if you knew he had developed an erection just from you touching him, like some kind of horny teenage boy.

“I’m fine,” he said in a strained voice. “Jus’... Please.”

You squeezed his shoulders gently, looking at him with the sweetest, most sympathetic smile you could show him. Whatever he was nervous about, you wanted him to feel safe around you, in the infirmary.

“Daryl,” you began, “please be honest with me. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, whatever it is. And trust me, I know when a patient is hiding something.”

And oh, boy, was he hiding something.

In a gesture of defeat, and after several moments of internal self-berating, Daryl removed his hands, and showed you the erection that had been begging to be released from the confines of his underwear.

It was mortifying, terrifying, and, above all, it ruined any chance he had of wooing you, he thought.

As for you, you weren’t entirely sure how to react, outwardly or inwardly.

“Oh,” you said, your cheeks red and your eyes transfixed on his defined, hardened package. “O-oh, that’s a… Mmm, that’s a… big one.”

Your eyes shut swiftly and you shook your head in embarrassment. “Uh, I mean… Ahem, that’s a perfectly normal…” You broke out into nervous laughter, and soon Daryl’s lips quirked into a slight smile, amused by your amusement. “I’m sorry,” you said, still laughing at the situation. “This is a disaster, isn’t it?”

He lowered his head, and proceeded to bend over to grab his jeans and use them to cover his… predicament.

“Uh, yeah,” he scoffed. “S-sorry.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure,” you said, crossing your arms and raising your eyes to look back up at Daryl.

“What?”

“You definitely don’t have erectile dysfunction.”

The remainder of the appointment went well, with Daryl’s mind calming down a little as you bandaged him, albeit still with that big erection.

Luckily, his baggy pants seemed to conceal it, and soon he was dressed and all patched up. Despite the awkward encounter, and the pain he had been in when he first came in, he felt good. Well, he still had that raging erection he would have to take care of, since it didn’t show any signs of going away, at least not while you were in the room, but he felt good.

“Here,” you said, handing him an orange bottle of pain meds, along with a tube of antibacterial ointment. He stood in the doorway, about to leave, though you really didn’t want him to, not with how giddy he made you feel. And when you caught a glimpse at that erection… Well, it awoke something in you. “Rub this on your rashes everyday, and tomorrow you should come back and let me change the bandages. Best way to prevent infection.”

Of course, Daryl probably could have changed his own bandages, but you sort of wanted to dote on him again… And maybe to see him half-naked some more.

“Thanks,” he said before tucking the medications in the pocket of his vest. “Y-you’re a… a great nurse.”

That smile was enough to take his breath away, and to send him to an early grave, but he didn’t really mind, as that smile was also a one-way ticket to Heaven.

“Thank you… You’re a great patient.”

He scoffed, but smiled and bashfully looked down at his feet nevertheless. “Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t blame ya if you thought I was some kinda perv.”

“It happens,” you said with an easygoing shrug of your shoulders. “I think some guys are just turned on by nurses or something. Uh, I mean, not that you are, but… I don’t know.”

He raised his head and smiled that crooked half-smile, one that was simultaneously sweet and mischievous.

“Well, uh… Maybe… Maybe jus’ one nurse in particular. Least for me.”

Your eyes widened and your feet shuffled nervously, almost causing you to trip on your own heel. “Oh, um… Yeah, well, I’ll see you tomorrow then? You know, to, um… change those bandages.”

He nodded, feeling much more confident now that he knew you didn’t mind his little issue.

“Sounds good.”

“Well,” you sighed, “guess you should get home and take care of that… You know.”

Indeed, there was still that in his pants, only getting harder the longer he stood there, with the sight of your legs playfully crossed over each other and your hands absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons on your dress, reminding him of those breasts…

“Maybe next time,” you added, hedging your bets on how far you could flirt with the shy man, “I could help you out with that. You know, um… as a medical professional. If—if you want, of course. I’ve been told I have a healing touch.”

If he wasn’t already hard, he definitely was now.

He debated a moment, trying to determine if he could adequately flirt back with you, or say something equally as dirty.

“Next time I get a hard-on,” he said, “you’re the first one I’m callin’. Ya know, as a medical professional.”

You shook your head and laughed. “Damn right.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Part 2

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader

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martuzzio · 3 years

Note

The idea of Ren joining the Amputees-Only club sounds so bittersweet... cuz before he knew they were having fun, but also knew that they were allowed to have a bond like that. He never expected to join them.

I can honestly imagine in his first few meetings there's a few times where Ren just cries, poor guy...

Rendog's first Amputee's Only Club Meeting (written under the cut because this one is longer than normal)

Despite what the universe seems to think, Doc is a pretty easygoing guy. Yes, he does look scary as hell and yes, he was a mob boss at one point, but that doesn’t mean he’s a violent person. Well, he’s violent when he needs to be, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. In reality, his favorite moments are all from quiet parts of his normal, boring, daily life as a hermit.

In these everyday moments, Doc likes to process things. He likes to sit in the greenhouse and watch the bio bees work alongside the robot bees. He likes to brush his fingers on the plants and let his half-robotic brain process the data into something that resembles touch. He likes to listen to Grian and Etho chat as they work.

He observes small moments like these because that’s all he really does. He takes in data and processes it. He uses the processed information to judge his surroundings and react accordingly. Sometimes this means that he uses his data to laugh at his friends who make dumb jokes. But sometimes he uses the data to run, hide, or fight back. When all you do is process data to keep yourself alive, it becomes very hard to ignore incoming information.

This is how Doc eventually locates Ren. He wasn’t planning on finding where his longtime friend wheeled off to, much less go searching for him, but Doc unfortunately decided to take a more leisurely route to the bridge and his camera eye caught the slight movement anyway. Doc has to give it to him; the man knows how to hide. The werewolf is in a lesser-used community room, curled into a dusty couch that’s been shoved into the corner. The chrome wheels of his temporary mobility aid reflect off of the window overlooking deep space. Ren has his left leg drawn up to this chest. His stump of a right leg rests on the couch cushion, shunned. Ren’s obviously hid because he doesn’t want to be found, but unluckily for him, Doc was specifically altered to notice things.

Ren’s flinch when Doc claps his hand on his shoulder is almost unnoticeable. Ren looks like he’s either been crying or had a bad allergic reaction to the dust. Doc assumes the former.

“Cub was working on your new parts earlier today. They look pretty sick,” he ventures.

Ren looks like he has the entire universe on his shoulders. “That’s wonderful,” he mumbles. He opens his mouth as if to say more, but instead sighs and slides his eyes shut.

Doc plops down on the couch and slings his arm over the back of the rest. The action makes Ren recoil again, this time more visibly, and Doc pointedly ignores it. Instead, he says, “As much as I want you to come see what Cub is making, you will go to him when you feel like it. There is nothing you need to do right now besides heal.”

Ren barks out a wet laugh. “Bro, I appreciate you so much, but how can stumps heal?”

Doc’s cybernetic hand twitches in sympathy. “You know what I mean, man, and we both know it.” Doc replies. He looks down at the sliver of space between his leg and Ren’s and chews his words. Ren shifts his gaze to Doc’s arm, then to gaze directly at the creeper’s face.

Doc feels uncomfortable in a way he’s never felt before. All of the other amputee hermits were already amputees when they joined the crew. They had time to heal, be angry, and let go in their own ways. He did, too. But now, with Ren sitting next to him, suffering through the same kind of anguish Doc felt when he first woke up from being operated on, Doc suddenly doesn’t know how to act. How do you comfort someone who literally lost a third of their body? As much as Doc knows what that feels like and as much as he wants to help his friend, he might not be able to. He might not ever be able to.

It’s the single most heartbreaking thing that Doc’s realized in a long, long time.

This revelation causes the duo to sit in silence for a long while. Then, Doc gets an idea. His eye shifts to look at his friend. Ren narrows his eyes tiredly but waits anyway.

“The Amputees-Only Club meeting is in a few minutes.” Doc murmurs. Ren is silent, but he plows on. “I think you should come,” he pleads. “I think everyone would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s throat clicks as he swallows. “I’m sure they would.”

“I would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s eyelids squeeze together. “I know you would.”

“Then let’s go,” Doc insists as he pushes himself to his feet. He turns around and smiles as much as he can at his friend, still curled up on the couch. Ren gazes exhaustedly back. “I think it would be a good idea.” He wishes his smile weren’t so frightening.

Ren moves to rub his eyes with his hands but remembers he’s missing one of his arms a little too late. The resulting crumpled expression immediately burns into Doc’s deep storage memory. “I don’t know, Doc.” The werewolf manages after a long moment. “I appreciate you trying to help, but…”

Doc understands. Of course he does. When he first joined the hermits, the idea of a weekly club meeting exclusively for amputees sounded farfetched at best and belittling at worst. Hell, he didn’t even think there were enough amputees on the team to warrant a club. Imagine his surprise when three other people showed up to his first session, all excited he was there to hang out with them.

With this in mind, all he can do is repeat, “I think it would be a good idea.”

Ren stares up at him, and in that moment, he looks as old as Xisuma. But then he gently closes his eyes, inhales slowly and shallowly, and motions for Doc to drag his mobility aid closer. Doc complies immediately.

The journey to the meeting room, like every other journey on the Hermit Craft, is long. It’s made even longer because of Ren’s inexperience with his aid, but Doc doesn’t dare to offer his help. They eventually end up in front of the elevator that Doc remotely called beforehand with his brain chip. When the doors open, Doc lets Ren wheel in first.

Ren is silent in the elevator. Doc tries to catch his expression, but his friend’s unruly hair blocks his vision. “We’re playing cards tonight.” He mentions.

“That’s what you do at every Amputee-Only Club meeting.”

Doc shifts his eye back to the elevator door. “…Correct.”

Ren doesn’t reply.

When the duo finally reaches the Club meeting room, Doc pauses outside for a moment instead of directing his brain to open the door like normal. He glances down at Ren again and murmurs, “if you don’t want to go back, or to your room or something, that’s—”

“It’s fine,” Ren interrupts. He sounds defeated. “We walked all the way here, so we may as well go.”

Doc activates the door without another thought.

The door slides open and reveals the club room. It’s small, smaller than the average community space on the Hermit Craft, but it feels warm. The soft yellow color painted on the walls matches pleasantly with the yellow of the couch cushions. Joe definitely was the one to orchestrate that. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner that’s set up to have nice views of outer space. Various game tables fill the rest of the room, a few surrounded by five chairs. Doc wonders if Ren will notice the new chair addition. Maybe he already had.

The most interesting part of the space, though, is the people within it. TFC is bundled up on the couch, snoring pleasantly and covered in at least ten blankets. His usual plate of cookies is already half eaten. Iskall is standing at the kitchen counter, fiddling with a teacup filled with a mysterious bright pink liquid. His outfit has a few suspicious-looking singe marks at the hem. Finally, Scar is sat at the poker table in the middle of the room, crossed legs resting on an adjacent chair. He’s sorting through a pile of yellow and orange chips. To Doc’s continued wonder, the stack of bright blue cards resting near Scar’s elbow have miraculously not been knocked onto the floor yet.

When the doors open, Scar and Iskall look over. Ren immediately shifts at Doc’s elbow. Doc waits a moment to let Ren speak if he wants to, but when his shorter friend remains silent, he clears his throat in a grinding noise and announces, unnecessarily, “We’re here.”

Scar is so excited that his eyes have turned into little slivers of green. “Ren, I’m so happy you decided to tag along!” He kicks one of the chairs out from the table and clonks his foot on it for emphasis. The blue cards wobble on the edge of the table but still refuse to fall. “Sit down! Iskall can get you something to drink. Have you ever played poker?” He leans forward with the question. “It’s difficult, but I think it’s fun!”

“Uh, I haven’t.” Ren replies awkwardly, still at the door alongside Doc. “I’ve never even heard of it before.”

“Yeah, I would be surprised if you knew about it. It’s one of those old-timey games from TFC’s era.” Iskall says from across the room. He is now by the couch and is gently patting TFC’s fluffy hair to wake him. “Don’t worry that you don’t know. We’ll teach you.”

Ren tries and fails to make a pointed noise of interest, but he still seems intrigued. Doc feels the knot in his chest loosen a little. He rolls his shoulders to relieve some tension and moves to sit down. By the time he turns his head to look back, Ren is already wheeling forward to join him but looks lost as to where he should sit.

“Howdy, Ren. Sit next to me so I can teach you, but I’ll only teach if you’re willing to listen.” TFC, now awake, grumbles good-naturedly as he heaves himself off the couch. With his large frame still wrapped in a dozen blankets, he looks like a huge bear compared to Iskall. Which is impressive, Doc thinks, since Iskall is nowhere near frail. TFC’s metal prosthetic clonks on the floor as he walks over to the poker table. As he sits down across from Scar, he says, “There’s no point in just sitting there and gawking at us. Grab a seat.” He uses his leg to nudge the chair to his left.

Ren blinks and maneuvers his aid to let him sit down next to the astronaut. TFC procures a blanket from his pile and offers one to him. Ren, after slowly settling in his chair, accepts the pink fuzzy blanket. Doc accepts a purple one.

TFC lances over to Ren as he saves the blue cards from the edge of the table. “Poker’s good fun. You’ll get it in no time.” He snorts and flicks his gaze to Scar, who is busy stacking the chips into a pyramid. “This one always makes sure we have a great, long game.”

Scar looks up and winces minutely in a false apology. “Sorry about that.”

TFC chuckles. “Boy, I’ve never had better games than when I play with you.”

Scar’s grin almost sparkles. TFC and Doc grin back and Iskall hides his laugh in his shoulder.

“Anyway, ready for your first game with us amputees?” TFC brings the conversation back to Ren, who suddenly looks a lot more uncomfortable.

“I,” he begins, his eyes flicking to TFC, then Doc, before looking down. “I, well, uh…”

The table is silent. Iskall is staring at the table with his hands in his lap. TFC sighs and begins shuffling the cards. Doc, as much as he wants to clear the air somehow, can’t seem to find a way to do so. Scar just looks sad. He looks right at Ren, almost through him.

Ren stares back, eyes wide.

“You don’t want to be here.” Scar says quietly, finally. It’s not a question. Ren’s choked response makes the ex-convex smile slightly. “You can say so, Ren. You’re not going to hurt our feelings. None of us want to be here. But, as much as we may want to, we can’t change what happened to us.” He falls silent again as he looks at a particularly twisted scar on the back of his left hand. He rubs at it harshly with the pad of his thumb before Iskall stops him. “This might be selfish,” Scar continues, softly, “but I’m happy that I at least don’t have to sit in here alone.”

For a long moment, the table is silent. Then, with a rush of noise, Ren makes a sound like he’s dying. In a certain way, Doc thinks, he is.

“I don’t want to be here,” Ren confesses as his open mouth contorts and tears roll down his face. “I don’t want to be here.”

All Doc can do is wrap his arms around everyone else, encasing Ren and his other amputee friends in his embrace, and wish he could do more.

#hermitcraft #space outlaws stories #rendog #docm77 #tinfoilchef #goodtimeswithscar #iskall85

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language and mild medical drama

Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans

Genre: Hurt + comfort

Summary: Bela is somewhat unprepared to deal with a soulmate who has no clue about her condition, her family, or any of the village's secrets. Thankfully, her sister Cassandra is more than willing to be a bad example. Also there's some fluff.

Notes: For reference, each of my soulmate stories take place in their own contained timeline, since they each involve different types of soulmates. So in this one, Cass doesn't currently have a soulmate.

Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow

2: Tangled Strands

A gentle humming fills the space around you, as fingers slowly run through your hair. As far as you can tell you had fallen back asleep, for several hours, and you were just now waking back up. No longer holding you down, your soulmate is curled up next to you. There’s still a needle in your arm, much to your irritation, but now you can finally see what it’s connected to: An IV for a transfusion. Explains why I’m feeling so much better than before, you think. Then you’re turning your head to the other side, eager to finally get a good look at your soulmate. Instantly you’re blushing, tongue tying itself into a knot, because wow are you lucky.

“Feeling any better?” She asked, as soon as your gaze met hers. You try to stutter out a confirmation, but you’re too distracted by the soft curve of her smile to speak, and barely even manage a nod. That beautiful smile grows wider in response. “Good. I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering more, after what you’ve already been through.” Now her smile fades, and she looks away for a few moments. Watching it makes your heart ache. So you swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself to relax, before trying a little comforting of your own.

“I am safe now, am I not? Moreso, we have too much to talk about for us to dwell on the ill circumstances of our introduction. Let us cherish this time, in respite, with our hearts open wide to one another,” you said, donning your softest smile. Somehow your words fulfill their purpose, and your soulmate is once again grinning. Slowly she leans forward to rest her forehead against yours. Then she’s speaking, voice as smooth as the sheets you lay on.

“You are right, of course. I simply wish I could have saved you sooner,” she replied, tone betraying the sadness that her expression otherwise hid. Before you can protest, she continues talking, and you soon forget all about your qualms. “To think I don’t even know your name yet… nor you mine, I suppose. Let’s remedy that, yes? I am Bela Dimitrescu.” Something about her last name feels familiar to you, but not to the point of clear recognition. Instead of inquiring, you return her favor, giving her your own name. She repeats it back a few times, letting the syllables roll off her tongue, and you feel your heart skip a few beats. “A lovely name for a lovely soul, perfectly paired.”

A pause, followed by Bela reaching out to examine your IV. Following her gaze, you turn to the metal hook adjacent to the bed, where a blood bag hangs. Only a few drops remain inside. Just as when you first awoke, Bela gives a soft hum, then rises into a sitting position. Your first instinct is to copy the motion, and you’re relieved when (this time) she doesn’t push you back down. Both of you quietly inch your hands closer until they’re laid on top of each other.

“I wish I knew more about medicine, but unfortunately my family is more experienced in the creation of wounds than the treatment of them,” Bela said, scowling. Confused, you tilt your head at a slight angle, watching her with interest. Am I supposed to know who she’s referring to? My memories of the past couple days are still hazy, you think. “Do… do you remember how you ended up in the dungeon? I know you wanted to speak of happier things, and we can, soon. It’s just… Knowing how you arrived here may help me deal with the consequences of freeing you. Mother will be dreadfully upset that I’ve interrupted a draining, even if we are soulmates.”

“Wait, are you saying…? The intimidating giantess who strung me up and attempted to bleed me dry… is your mother?” You asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. This was an unexpected development, for sure.

“You didn’t know?” Bela replied, eyes going wide for a moment. Clearly she wouldn’t have said anything if she realized you weren’t already aware. Suddenly the tension in the room is palpable, with an uncomfortable silence overtaking the two of you. In the moment, you cannot even bring yourself to look at Bela, too stunned by this new knowledge. Eventually she breaks the silence, voice sounding unsure for once. “I realize that this is a lot to take in, if you need time to process it, I… I can go. But you need to understand that our situation is far more complicated than it might appear. We cannot survive without the blood of others- it is what sustains us when nothing else can.”

Now you’re staring at her like she’s crazy, and she’s standing up, moving to the other side of the room. She draws back a curtain, gazing out into the snow covered hills. Every muscle in your body is urging you to run while she’s distracted. Thread of fate be damned, this went far beyond anything you had ever imagined having to deal with. You come so close to ripping the IV right out of your arm. But a gentle tug on your soul string makes you pause, remembering all the times this bond gave you hope in dark times. Had she felt the same way, all these years? What had she gone through, in this absurd castle, on the very edges of civilization? You pull on the red thread, feeling a wave of composure wash over you.

“It appears there is much I need to learn. But is that not the very nature of our connection? We know, simply, that we are bound to each other, though we know not what shapes our souls take so that we might put them together, nor even what roles we must play. I cannot say that I understand your plight, my dear, but I will try, as is my obligation, and my honor,” you said, wishing you could hold her, and cursing your IV. As soon as the first word leaves your mouth, Bela is turning around, watching you with a bittersweet expression. Once you’re done she’s moving closer, as if reading your mind, extending a hand to cup your cheek. Then she leans forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Oh, how I have longed for this- to be with you, to get to know you.”

“As did I,” she murmured. You can’t help but lean into her touch, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. “Perhaps I should introduce you to my family? I imagine you’ll be needing breakfast anyway, and bringing human food back to my quarters would raise more suspicion than I’d like.” Well, the moment couldn’t last forever, could it?

“Only if you promise that your mother won’t suspend me by my wrists again. Or by any other part of me. Shall we simply put suspension off the table altogether?” You asked, half teasing. To be entirely honest, you were equally worried about Bela’s sisters. Well, the people you had heard other prisoners whispering about, who were the daughters of the giantess, and by connecting a few dots were also, presumably, Bela’s sisters. Apparently they preferred to play with their food. Unless, of course, Bela was one of the daughters you had heard about, and would have easily torn into you if not for your connection. Let’s not dwell on that concept, you think, glad to be distracted by your soulmate.

“I will not let anyone harm you anymore, my beloved. My mother would not stand so firmly in the way of my happiness,” Bela reassured, though you detected a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Still, there wasn’t much you could do other than trust her. “Now, let me take care of your bandages, then we’ll head downstairs…”

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

“Who the fuck is this?” An unfamiliar voice asked, as you meandered down the corridor, arm around Bela for support. As soon as she hears the person speak, your soulmate is freezing in place, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. When you turn as well, you spot someone dressed almost identically to Bela. However, the woman wears a yellow pendant, as opposed to a red one, and her hair is a dark brown. It feels safe to assume that she’s one of the sisters you’ve heard about. Which understandably makes you nervous, to the point where you almost want to hide behind Bela. Instead, you stand tall, attempting to seem unfazed by either her presence or her vulgarity.

“Mind your manners, Cassandra,” Bela hissed, taking more of an aggressive stance than you had anticipated. “This, dear sister, is my soulmate. And if you even think about harming them, or getting in our way, I will tear you apart.” While you’re downright shocked at the intensity of Bela’s statement, her sister doesn’t look at all impressed, and eyes you with minimal interest. Better than looking at you with hatred, right? Apparently not, as Bela moves to stand between the two of you, eyes narrowed. There’s a clear stiffness in her posture that leaves you anxious. Cassandra seems to notice it as well, and laughs, before taking a few steps in your direction. Then your soulmate mimics the movement, forcing you to do so as well.

“They’re human,” Cassandra snapped, pausing to sniff the air and scowl. “Here I thought your soulmate would have to be special, if they’re to compare to your ego. You’re disappointed, aren’t you? Having to settle for this.” With that she shifts, flesh writhing, making your stomach churn as you watch her disintegrate into a cloud of… flies? What the hell is wrong with this family? Can Bela do that too? I hope not, you think. Soon you’re pulled from your thoughts, however, as the swarm circles around you, single insects occasionally surging forward to cut at your skin. But Bela is grabbing you by the sleeve and tugging you to her chest, moving against a wall so that her body shielded your own. Your eyes clamp shut as you shake in her arms. When the buzzing stops, it is quickly replaced with cruel laughter. “That fragile, hmm? I can’t wait to see what mother thinks. See you at breakfast, sister!”

Then the two of you are alone, still pressed against the wall, staying still until the sound of footsteps fade. You’re stunned, unsure of how to react. The fact that a few drops of blood roll down your cheek only makes things worse. Still, Bela managed to prevent you from getting too hurt, and the few wounds on your body are negligible. Ever filled with gratitude, you hold her close as you try to stutter out a few sentences.

“Is she always this hostile, or am I truly not what you had expected? No, pay me no mind, it hardly matters. Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered. In response, Bela gives you a little squeeze, then pulls back enough to wipe the blood from your face. There’s a hint of something odd in her expression, which you interpret to be related to her apparent ‘need for blood’. Thankfully, she is in perfect control, and does not frenzy the same way you had read about fictional vampires doing. But she does hesitate, words dying on her tongue, like there are a thousand things she wants to say, and no words to say them with. “It’s alright, my dear. Let’s just go to breakfast, like we planned, and hope your sister behaves better when supervised.”

Bela nods, quickly, before taking your hand in her own. Whatever awaited you in the dining room, the two of you would be ready. Hopefully.

#babe why aren't you this nice to ME #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #soulmate au #imagine bela's soulmate meeting cassandra's #they'd be very unlikely friends #cassandra would HATE how well behaved her soulmate would be #like #tumblr keeps rearranging the order of my tags???#I'll fix that later

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hyuckssunchip · 3 years

Text

눈빛

~the expression of one’s eyes

Pairings: Mark x Reader, ft. Johnny

Words: 3.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, unrequited love

Synopsis:

It wasn’t as if Mark couldn’t see it, in fact he was almost sure that Johnny could see it too. The way that you looked at him. At Johnny.

“Horror or Rom-com tonight?” You turned to face Johnny, dressed in his familiar pajamas, plaid didn’t do him justice.

“I dunno, it’s your night to choose.” Your eyes followed his figure, and you admired the messy hairdo you had gotten so used to.

“Horror? Are you up for some nightmares tonight?” He laughed, and your heart skipped a beat at the sound.

You giggled at his response, but he recognized the nervous look on your face.

“Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe, just like old times.” He plopped on the cushion next to you, his body flushed against yours. This was nothing new, his warmth was a familiar feeling, but you could never get used to the butterflies that the contact sent through you.

“Remember that time you thought that Pennywise was hiding under your bed?” He snorted at the memory of you huddled on the couch in the middle of the night, begging for him to stay up with you.

“That was stupid, and I told you I didn’t like clowns.” You grumbled, wrapping the blanket around you tighter, trying to ignore the teasing looks.

“Sure, so I’m guessing you don’t like ghosts either?” He nudged you, raising his eyebrows.

“No, I’m fine with ghosts.” You mocked back, but the hint of fear was evident in your voice.

“Great! I know a great movie then!” He moved towards the remote, checking out your reaction from the side of his eye.

“Yeah…” You mumbled, sinking further into the couch.

You were interrupted by the soft slam of the front door.

“Johnny?” You turned at the sound of a new voice.

“Oh, hey Mark. We’re about to watch a movie, wanna join? It’s horror.” He sang the last part, taunting you.

“Oh.” The awkward tension didn’t leave, and you turned to face Johnny, indicating you wanted to be introduced.

“Oh. Y/N this is Mark, Mark Y/N.” Johnny went back to the TV searching for the movie and leaving you and Mark to awkwardly acknowledge each other.

“Hi.” You let out a soft whisper, waving a shy hand at the newcomer.

“Hi.” But all he could do was stare back, a tiny smile adorning his face. You returned his smile, and turned to Johnny, digging your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What?” He flinched, rubbing his ribs and giving you a teasing glare. You nodded your head in Mark’s direction.

“Mark, you gonna join?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” He stuttered out, glancing between the two of you as he fell into the seat adjacent from you.

The starting credits of the movie began, lighting up your faces. Throughout the movie you had dug yourself into Johnny’s side, his arm making its way around your shoulders, laughing at the way you used him as a shield.

“You could’ve said no to ghosts.” He whispered in your ear, with a teasing grin on his face.

“Shut up.” You smacked his chest.

From the other couch Mark watched your interaction, the way that you looked at him, the way that you held onto him.

“Oh, hi.” You were startled, looking up from the comfortable position on the couch.

“Hi.” You winced at the awkwardness, suddenly wishing you hadn’t showed up to Johnny’s place early.

Mark slowly sat down on the other couch, as if he was worried that you didn’t want him there. Which wasn’t exactly true, but also not far from the truth.

“Are you waiting for Johnny?” He asked, choosing to look at anything but you.

“Yeah, it’s movie night again, but he said he was running late.” You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, staring at the plant on the coffee table.

“Oh.”

The silence was heavy. Normally you weren’t this awkward, but apparently your social ineptness and his just made things worse.

You giggled at the thought and as a way to relieve the tension.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows, worried that he had done something.

“Nothing.” But you couldn’t help but giggle again. The laughter was contagious and soon you found each other’s company comfortable.

You wiped the small tear that was threatening to escape, “Oh my god, my cheeks hurt.” You shook your head, the last half an hour you and Mark had been laughing non-stop, bantering as if you had known each other as long as you and Johnny had.

He had the biggest grin on his face, a goofy look that you thought was sweet.

“What’s going on here?” Johnny entered, chucking his back by the entrance. He commanded attention, pulling you and Mark away.

“We were just talking about you actually.” You smirked, winking at Mark.

“Hey, that’s not nice. What’d you talk about?” At the sound of the both of your laughter Johnny had wielded one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen. He felt content at the sight of the two people he loved most being happy.

“Oh, just some things… like that time where we went swimming and you-” His hand slapped over your mouth as he sent you a glare.

Mark doubled over in laughter, as you ripped his hand away from your face. “I already told him, it’s not new news.” You laughed at the look of horror on his face.

“You said you’d take that to the grave!” He threw an accusing finger at you.

“Oops. I lied.” You giggled at his face.

“Whatever. Horror night again I guess.” He smirked at the way your face fell.

“No, it’s my turn to pick.” You whined at him, to which he promptly shook his finger at you.

“Uh-uh, you lost that privilege the moment you opened your mouth.” He reached for the remote, quickly trying to find the movie.

You pouted, crossing your arm over your chest. “Whatever.” The smile grew on your face as you made eye contact with a very red-faced Mark, who looked as if he was going to combust from holding in his laughter. “It was worth it.”

Mark snorted, unable to keep it in. “I can’t believe you-” But the rest of his sentence couldn’t be heard, his own laughter ruining the story.

“Whooo.” He calmed himself, dabbing the undersides of his eyes dry.

“Okay. You done now?” Johnny teased sarcastically. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the grin that stretched over his face.

“Yeah.” But the tips of Mark’s lips never went down.

“Where are you going?” Johnny shouted at your back as you tried to leave the apartment.

“Mark’s taking me bowling. We’re going to practice so we can whoop your ass next Friday.” You shouted back, shoving your feet into your worn shoes, victims of your lack of patience.

He smiled at the sound of the door slamming, pleased that you two were getting along great. He wanted so badly for your friendship to work out, and possibly move to something more. Mark wasn’t exactly shy in the way that he looked at you, or talked about you. And Johnny could think of no one better he would approve of.

But the problem wasn’t with Mark, it was you. You were oblivious to his feelings, and even more so to your own. No matter how much time you spent with Mark, you told yourself that your heart belonged to someone else. No matter how wrong that was, you had convinced yourself that what you felt was love, and it wasn’t possible to feel that way for anyone else.

“You know I think you should get out there, I mean I know a really great guy that would be perfect for you.” You frowned at his words, not liking the sound of it.

You hated the way he was pushing you into a random relationship, especially when you just wanted nothing more than for him to reciprocate your feelings. But he was doing the opposite.

“I don’t want to get with a random guy.” You tried to push the idea away and move away from the topic.

“But you can’t just keep hanging out with me,” He frowned at your scowl, “I just want to do you a favor, I think you’ll really like him.”

“I don’t want to, Johnny. I’ll get into a relationship when I want to.” You pushed back, grabbing your phone as a distraction.

“When is that gonna be? You can’t just wait forever.” He tried to get your attention.

“Who says I’m waiting? I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.” You snapped at him, his words now hitting a little too close to home.

“I’m not saying you’re not happy, just that you should find someone that can love you the way you deserve.”

You tensed at his words, not quite yet understanding where that was coming from.

“I know, and I’ll find that when it comes along.”

“I can’t do that for you.” He let out, biting his bottom lip.

Your heart stopped and suddenly you felt your chest tighten.

“So you knew.” You felt hot tears of embarrassment threaten to fall.

“Y/N…” There was a pleading tone as he realized your hurt, but that didn’t stop him from his next words, “It was hard not to.”

You swore you heard your heart break. “How long?” You croaked out.

“A long time Y/N.” He faltered out, watching your expression fall.

The feeling of betrayal hit you hard, and unable to reach his eyes anymore you turned on your heel, just narrowly missing his outreaching grasp.

“Y/N…” He paused, noticing the way you hesitated. It was hard not to, after all your feelings were still so strong and so real.

But he never finished, and you took that as a sign that the conversation, or whatever this situation was, was over.

It was only natural for you to find comfort in the person that seemed to know you best after Johnny. Mark.

“I was talking to Haechan yester- hey, what’s wrong?” Mark immediately found your eyes, a pool of empathy that you longed for.

You sniffled and your bottom lip trembled as you tried to speak. “He...Johnny.” That was all you got out before your voice was swallowed by a sob.

He reached out for you tentatively, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. You automatically melt into his embrace.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, softer than before, but just as genuine.

“Johnny found out I like him…” You faltered, not wanting to come to terms with his rejection.

You were terrified at the sight of his face, he wasn’t at all shocked at your confession.

“Was I that obvious?” You asked, moving to wipe the streaks off your face.

He sighed, trying not to meet your desperate eyes. “I mean…”

Your shoulders dropped, face heating in embarrassment. “Does everyone know? Am I just that transparent?”

“So what if you wear your heart on your sleeve? What’s wrong with that?” He leaned down to make eye contact, trying to console you.

“He doesn’t…”

You didn’t finish, but he didn’t need you to. Once again, his arms wrapped around you and he swayed you in embrace for a moment of silence.

Although he hesitated to ask, he desperately wants to know the answer to the question on his mind. His timing wasn’t great, but he’s human too.

“Do you… still like him?” He asked the top of your head, not daring to move as he felt you stiffen.

“Yeah…”

Neither of you spoke.

“I don’t want to though.”

“Sometimes you can’t help it.” He mumbled, some of his own truth behind his words. “The heart wants what it wants right?”

“Yeah.”

“Y/N.”

You froze, it was too early for you. You knew the moment you laid eyes on him you would break again.

“Are you mad?” He asked gently to your back, although you couldn’t see him, the Johnny you knew was genuine.

You sighed, it was soon, but you wanted to be able to hold yourself together for this conversation.

“No.” It came out as a squeak and you flinched at the sound of your vulnerable voice.

“I don’t want… I don’t want our friendship to be like this. I don’t want things to change.” Your heart sank at his words, although he had good intentions you knew the meaning behind them. That anything more than a friendship was never going to happen.

“I can’t do this right now.” You whispered out, sliding past the door. You felt your throat tighten involuntarily and a sob escaped you as you ran down the hallway, bumping into Mark on the way.

“Y/N?”

You continued past him, not wanting to take the chance that Johnny had followed you.

But the steps caught up with you, and you found a pair of arms enveloped you from behind and your shoulders sank in defeat.

“Y/N?” You relaxed at the familiar voice. You turned around in his arms, choosing to wrap your arms around his waist. You fit snug against his chest, the warmth and his heartbeat calming you.

“Shhh…. It’s okay.” He patted the back of your head, raking his hands slightly through your hair.

You simply hummed, not able to formulate a sentence yet. Together you rocked silence, slowly but surely calming you.

“I’m just not ready.” You answered eventually, muffled into his chest.

“It’s okay.” He murmured back.

“I want to be ready to face him, but it still hurts.”

“Y/N, just take your time, you don’t have to be ready yet.” He comforted you, ignoring the own pain that he felt.

“Thank you.” You whispered into his chest, sniffling as you pulled away. You laughed nervously wiping your nose, “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

He giggled back, trying to make you feel better, “My shirt isn’t worth your apology. I’ll be your human tissue any time.”

You smiled shyly at his words, and you felt a small flutter in your stomach.

Another week had passed before your dreaded conversation with Johnny arrived. You finally felt ready to face the truth, but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared for the change that came with it. You weren’t stupid, awknowledging this meant that things weren’t going to be the same between you two. As scary as that was, nothing was going to get fixed if you avoided it.

“I- I don’t know where to start.” You had never seen Johnny so shy or confused. You were used to him being the powerhouse, the moodmaker. And it hurt you to see him look so defeated.

“Then let me. I have some things to get off my chest, and I honestly don’t know if I can do it if I don’t say it now.” You sighed, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

He nodded, letting you take your time.

“It just hurt, you know. Like not only was it one-sided, but I just kinda felt betrayed that you played along with it. If you knew the way I looked at you and you didn’t feel the same, you didn’t have to play into it so much.” You paused, still looking at the ground. “You could’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want things to change. I love our friendship, and I never wanted something to come between us. I thought for sure things would get weird if I said something. I mean, look at us now.” He let out a nervous laugh, something that you couldn’t reciprocate.

“But don’t you think it would’ve been better to let me know, so I didn’t feel like you played with me and my feelings?” You felt bitter when reminiscing the moments he made your heart flutter.

“I never once meant to play with your feelings, I swear. I know it looks really bad, and it didn’t help stop your feelings when I acted like that. But I truly didn’t do it to mess with you, or purposely hurt you.” He reached for your hands, grasping you softly. “I didn’t want things to be like this, I just figured that you would find someone else and forget about me. I mean that’s what I hoped.”

You faltered at his words, heartbroken that he wished that your feelings would just fade.

“I know it was stupid, and it was harsh, but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt you and I thought this was the best way.”

You pulled your hands from his, fiddling with your fingers. But slowly you nodded, starting to understand him. Of course Johnny wouldn’t do that to you on purpose, you could trust him.

You watched as his expression visibly fell, and you wanted so badly to comfort him. “I know that you meant well, I just wish it didn’t come out like this, I wish you would’ve just told me. But I get that you didn’t want to hurt our friendship and I know this is probably better. I don’t think that there would’ve ever been the right time to tell me. It just hurts, you know. It would’ve hurt at any time though.”

You sighed at your admission, realizing that this was inevitable. With your feelings and your relationship with Johnny, this was inevitable, it was only a matter of when and how.

“I don’t want to say sorry for being hurt, or say sorry for having feelings for you, my feelings were valid. But I do want to say I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. I should have come to terms with it a long time ago but... I didn’t want to.”

He smiled sadly back at you. “Can things go back anytime soon? I don’t want things to be weird between us. I would hate our friendship to end.”

“Me too. I do think that it’ll take some time for things to go back to normal, if it will. But I want everything to work out the way it did before, and I’ll try.” You gave him a small smile, a means of offering your attempt in saving your relationship.

“Don’t be stupid. I told you it’ll never work, you’re just wasting your time.” You snorted at the loud thud that followed your words.

“I’m telling you, balancing upside down won’t get rid of your hiccups, what kind of logic is that?” Mark moaned in pain from his position on the floor, now sprawled out.

“Then what do I do?” He rubbed his head, face still red from the blood rushing to his face.

“Uh I don’t know, learn to live with it?” You snickered at the look he gave you.

“Uh… why is Mark on the floor?” Johnny walked in, staring between the two of you with a weird look on his face.

“He’s trying to get rid of hiccups.” You replied, leaning over the back of the couch to get a good glimpse at Mark.

“That doesn’t work.” Johnny said confidently, “I’ve tried.” He plopped on your right, staring down at the hiccuping boy, who glared back.

He wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you into a soft headlock.

Things were still different than before, but you were starting to go back to normal. His touch no longer sent flutters through your stomach and you smiled at the interaction.

“What you need to do is hold your breath.” He motioned to the way he was holding you, “I can help you out with that.”

Mark glared at the older boy, “No thanks, I rather enjoy breathing.”

He rolled over and slowly sat himself up, leaning back on his hands. He cleared his throat, sparing a glance up at the two of you. “And hands off my girlfriend.”

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feliix · 3 years

Text

Breaking Point ↠ Lee Minho

↠ minho x female reader

↠ genre: smut, pwp ↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ word count: 1.9k

↠ warnings: dom!minho, sub!reader, bondage, masturbation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (they’re in a gym idk), ruined orgasm, degradation, dirty talk, manhandling, rough sex, finger sucking, cum play, cum eating

↠ a/n: written as a request for my drabble game♡

“Minho we’ve been here for two hours, can we be done now?” You whine, plopping down onto the seat of the chest machine while Minho stands before you, chest heaving as he recovers from the circuit he’s just finished.

“Come on. Two more sets,” he replies as he grabs the bottle of water to his right, swiftly twisting the cap off and pouring the liquid into his mouth. Your eyes draw to a stare as you examine him closely; his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows while sweat glistens in the space made from parted hair on his forehead. Damp pieces of his chocolate hair stick to the sides of his face, the perspiration making it seem darker than normal. Every part of him is enticing.

Before you decided to come to the gym with Minho you knew it would be a bad idea. He’s far too distracting. How are you supposed to pay any attention to what comes next in the circuit as he stands beside you looking like that? It’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else but him. Dark clothes cling to his figure, every muscle of his toned stomach exposed, and you stood close enough to make out every fine detail. It’s a blessing and a curse.

“Maybe we should take a short break,” you suggest, puffing your chest forward in hopes to gain his attention. A smirk lands on your lips when you notice his eyes wander down to the cleavage exposed by your sports bra. You knew what you could be getting into by coming here, so dressing the part was an important part of the plan.

Rolling your head back to expose more of yourself to him, you hear him force a hard breath past his lips. “What makes you think you deserve a break?”

Minho challenges, his defined biceps crossing over his chest. Heat shoots to your core – at this rate you won’t be able to stand looking at him like this much longer. In attempts to hold whatever shred of sanity you have left, you squeeze your thighs together, trying your best to ease the growing ache between your legs. Unfortunately your actions do not go unnoticed; though the way his tongue brushes against his bottom lip, tells you that you might be in for a treat.

“Maybe if you just did what I said in the first place and focused on the exercise, you wouldn't be squeezing your thighs together like a little whore.” Minho paces over to you, towering over your figure as he uncrosses his arms and places a hand on the bar adjacent to your head.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter, eyes forcing their way to the ground to avoid eye contact with him. You swallow thickly, tempted to just reach out in front of you, but you know better. As he leans down, narrowing the distance between your bodies, you lift your eyes to meet his. The gap between you quickly vanishes as you feel his hot breath on your lips, begging to be claimed by his own.

One hand stabilizes his body against the machine as the other grazes down the back of your neck, holding your gaze to his. So badly you want to lean forward and sweep your lips against his, but again, you know better. And you know what would happen if you act without asking. With this position he has you in now, there’s no intention of Minho giving up control.

His eyes narrow to slits once he breaks his gaze with yours. Suddenly he’s standing up to search the left side of the room for something, digging through a black crate and muttering to himself. The suspense grows in your core as you watch him tear through the equipment, but all that ends when you hear a short, sadistic chuckle pass by his lips. When he turns, two blue resistance bands rest in his palms, a smirk settled on his lips while his breathing grows heavy. Biting your lip in anticipation, you hold your eyes on him, watching his paces move towards you.

Without a word spoken, he takes one of your hands in his, extending your arm upwards and holding it up to the cold metal of the chest machine. The smooth elastic of the blue band meets your wrist, and suddenly you know exactly what this is for. The elastic is carefully wrapped around your wrist and then tied to the machine in a firm knot.

“Pull,” Minho instructs. So you do, jerk your wrist forward as hard as you can to test the security of the band. When it doesn’t move, Minho nods in approval, reaching for your other hand to take the same measures.

Arousal has fully taken over you, soaking through your thin panties and spandex and beginning to leak onto the bench under you. You struggle to find relief, thighs unable to squeeze together any harder to relieve the tension building in your core.

Just as your eyes are beginning to fall shut, you feel his calloused hands on each of your knees, prying your legs apart from relieving the ache. His eyes graze your form, spread so open and wide for him. It’s becoming hard to sit still, the desire racking at your nerves causing you to shift in your seat as your cunt begins clenching around nothing at all. The sight of you writhing under his control makes him feel so powerful – the stiffness pressing against the confines of his short goes to show.

Looping a finger under your waistband, he rips your leggings down your legs in one go, unable to wait or tease you any longer. His tongue grazes his lips as his eyes meet your dripping core, dragging a finger down your slit to collect your essence.

“Suck,” he seeths, holding his finger up to your parting lips as you take his finger in your mouth, darting your tongue across the digit. It’s becoming increasingly harder to keep your legs spread, unconsciously trying to find comfort as you watch the bulge form against his shorts. Your core is already aching so badly for him – and he hasn’t even properly touched you yet.

In one swift movement, he pulls down the garments of his lower half, erection springing to light as his clothing pools around his ankles. Once more he reaches forward, gathering more of your arousal to use to stroke his cock. You bite your tongue to keep yourself quiet, knowing well that your whimpers will only make Minho more upset. His head falls back in bliss once his fingers wrap around his thick member, lips parting to let out a soft moan before clenching his teeth together. Watching his hand grope his thick shaft is enough for you. You accept defeat by resting your head back against the seat, but the throbbing of your neglected cunt still pleads to be filled with him.

“Minho please,” you beg, widening your legs further in hopes it will entice him forward, “please, just fuck me now.” Words stammer past your lips unknowingly, thoughts too heavy with lust that clouds your better judgment.

“If you want to act like a whore that's how you’ll be treated,” He challenges, gripping his hands on each of your thighs and lining his tip up at your entrance. Whimpers draw past your lips as you’re unable to hold your shaking body together.

But all is out of your control as he wraps your legs around his waist. His member plunges into you fast and hard, bottoming out on the first stroke without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck!” You catch your lip between your teeth, biting down hard to hold back a yelp. The elastic binding your wrists to the cold metal is beyond irritating, all you want is to reach out and run your hands across his toned abdomen; which is fortunately in your line of sight.

He releases a grunt as he withdraws his cock and thrusts into you once more, just as fast and hard as last time. Back arching off the seat, you’ll do anything to get as close to him as possible. You want to scream being held like this, so frustrated that you have nothing to hold onto while he’s gripping your thighs with such fervor. There will definitely be small bruises left behind from the pads of his fingers pushing deeply into your skin – that’s without a doubt. But you’ve never paid them much mind before, it’ll be a nice reminder of how good he made you feel when you wake up tomorrow.

His hands rake up your legs to grip your hips, steadying your body so he can thrust into you more rhythmically. Your core clenches tightly around his length each time he sinks into you; the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter each time he presses against the sweet spot deep inside you.

“Stop moving you fucking slut,” he gripes. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been bucking your hips up to meet each of his thrusts. Before you’re able to continue he is pushing you back onto the bench with an annoyed growl. The unconscious chase of your release is chomping at the bit.

Sounds of his balls slapping hard against your ass fills the room as his pace quickens. The force of his thrusts doesn't ease up as his grip on your waist grows harsher, forcing your body down harder onto his cock. Moans fly past your lips, the band in your stomach threatening to snap with each sharp movement of his hips.

“Minho,” you whine, “I’m so close.” Looking up at him past your eyelashes, you pray that he decides to be nice and let you finish. The dark and focused look in his stare tells you he’s close there too. His jaw clenches, eager to meet his release as he fucks deeply into you.

“Hold it,” Minho orders, earning an exhausted sigh from you in response. You’re sure you’ve never wanted to cum so badly in your life, but if you lose control now he’ll never let you live it down.

Quickly his hands tighten around your thighs, squeezing your legs around his waist and forcing your pussy to clench harder around his member. A wail escapes your lips, unable to hold back any longer, and he knows you’re about to disobey his orders.

Just as the tension is reaching a breaking point, he removes his shaft from your core, leaving you completely empty and throbbing around nothing. Your jaw drops in dismay, unable to form a coherent thought as his hands drop your legs to the ground. Before you can figure out how to speak, his hand is already wrapped around his cock, pumping it until white-hot spurts of cum are landing on your stomach. Eyes widening in shock, you watch as each drop falls from his member and onto your supple skin.

“Next time listen when I tell you not to come yet, slut,” Minho sneers, cock softening as he stands proudly over the mess he’s made on your body.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten from my BTS fic Unresolved Tension

#minho smut #lee know smut #stray kids smut #kwritersworldnet #kdiner #kafenetwork #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #straykidsland #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho oneshot #stray kids oneshot

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine: Trouble In Paradise

Series Masterlist

Plot: The Resistance has been chasing information across the galaxy to confirm the identity of the voice behind the mysterious radio broadcast. Meanwhile, Y/n has been keeping secrets from her loved ones that could have catastrophic consequences...

Warnings: language, intrusive violent thoughts, talk of the death of a parent, no beta reader because we die like men...

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: GAH we’ve made it to TROS. I can’t believe we’re nearing the end of this series...Nope, I’m not getting emotional today lol. Thanks for patiently waiting for this chapter, I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve updated. Hopefully I don’t disappoint :) --------

I’d joked as a kid that I’d always wanted to float. The concept of hovering above the ground suspended in midair had tickled me, but the reality of physics had crushed that dream quickly.

So naturally, my inner child was giddy to learn it was indeed possible.

I sat crossed legged, hands resting on my knees, eyes shut, more at ease than I’d been in a long time from seven feet in the air. Meditation had always brought me a deep sense of peace, but diving deeper into a Jedi’s way of performing the act had taken the whole thing to a new level.

“Be with me…” came a voice from the body that sat adjacent to me. The corners of my mouth lifted up slightly as I listened to Rey try her hardest while still attempting to remain relaxed and open. It was a blessing and a curse to be a perfectionist and a Jedi, you were wildly driven but also would beat yourself up generously if you couldn’t get something. That was Rey to a t. Not that I wasn’t just as devout, but I’d trained myself long enough to know that you couldn’t perfect something overnight.

“They’re not with me,” she declared with a scoff, “Ugh…”

Rey effectively called an end to our session as I opened my eyes to see her gracefully flip through the air and meet the ground. Her half of the rocks we’d been keeping in the air with us fell while I eased mine down with me, landing in a crouched position. “You’re going to get it.” “I’m not so sure I agree,” she sighed. “I haven’t figured it out either if it makes you feel any better,” I offered with a shrug, brushing the dirt from my leggings.

Rey made an objective noise, “That’s not true, you can hear your grandfather.”

“Only because he reaches out to me, I’m still not able to hear or see him by my own doing. And believe me, I’m trying…”

“It comes with time and a healthy dose of patience…” said the warming presence I sensed just a few feet away from us. “I’m starting to think it isn’t possible,” Rey stated as we walked toward my mother, “To hear the voices of the Jedi who came before.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” Mom replied simply, she had drilled that phrase into our brains so many times over the past few months that I swore it was tattooed somewhere in my skull.

“Nothing’s impossible,” Rey echoed, a small smile spreading across her face at the encouragement, “I’m going to run the training course. Are you coming?” “No, I ran it earlier,” I said, elbowing her lightly in the arm, “One day I’ll beat you but today was not that day.” Rey was such a humble person, which made it all the more entertaining to watch her try not to take delight in being the best at something. She slyly grinned at me before accepting Uncle Luke’s lightsaber from Mom and heading off towards the start of the course.

Can I go with her? Unless you need me? “No, Bee,” I smiled down at the droid, left in my custody till Poe returned, “You can go with Rey.” He happily rolled his way through the jungle, in search of his friend.

“Any word from the Falcon?” I asked hopefully as Mom and I slowly strolled back towards base.

“Not yet,” she answered, trying her hardest to sound unworried, “It may be too risky to send a comm back. I wouldn’t worry yet.”

“Telling me not to worry only makes me worry more,” I returned, clenching and unclenching my fists in an attempt to relieve some of the tension in my body.

Only a handful of Resistance personnel knew the details of Finn and Poe’s mission. Those who did understood the weight and magnitude of the information they were potentially retrieving. But as with every high-risk mission, bringing back intel meant bringing themselves back, which was a big if…

“Mom, what if it really is what we think it is?” I asked, sounding more like a curious child than a concerned commander, “Worse, what if it’s who we think it is?”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” she sighed, “But the truth is that we don’t know for certain what we’re up against. We’re anticipating and planning in the dark. We can only pray that Poe and Finn return with something that could shed even a little light on the matter.”

Light versus dark, an age old battle with a new enemy for each generation to face. But the same enemy coming back twice? Nobody could have predicted it. And while it was true, we had no official confirmation that the broadcast across the galaxy had been who we believed it to be, those who had lived through the rebellion had no doubts.

“Do me a favor and let me know when they’re back if I’m not around,” I requested, breaking away from my mother who was heading back towards the command center. I needed a few minutes to myself to attend to matters I couldn’t concern her or Rey with.

“Y/n,” she called and waited for me to face her, “I know you’re scared, but don’t feel like you need to fight your battles on your own.” If only she knew the battles I was fighting and just how important it was that nobody find them out. I hated secrets, I’d spent my entire life keeping them from those who meant the most to me. But the ones I kept now were in a new category of extreme, they were the kind that when all was exposed could ruin every relationship I had.

So I simply nodded, gave a tight lipped smile and turned back on my way.

I ended up deep in the opposite side of the jungle, far away from the training course and far enough away from base that nobody would stumble upon me. I scaled one of the large trees with ease, landing on a sturdy top branch and settling onto it. Like D’Qar, I kept a secret corner of Ajan Kloss for myself for when I needed quiet or clarity. But both places where were I faced my demons, only the ones I had now couldn’t be combatted with a lightsaber. Not yet, at least…

I took a deep breath and looked out to the beautiful horizon, inwardly beating myself up for what I was about to do.

“Ren, are you there?”

Silence.

“Ren, I know you’re there somewhere,” I pushed, trying to open the connection between us once again, “You’ve got to tell me if you know anything about what’s been going on.”

Nothing.

“This isn’t a matter of First Order or Resistance, it’s not about you or I. If this is what we think it is, both of us are fucked so if you know something, I need to know it too.” We hadn’t spoken since the evening of the broadcast, I knew him better than I wished to and knew that any threat to his rule would send him frantically searching for the culprit. Since he’d gone silent on me, I’d reached out often to try and get any information out of him I could. It wasn’t so I could use it against him, it was simply to figure out what we’d be up against. He was the only person I knew close to the dark side of the force, meaning he was the closest to answers I could get. I was toeing a dangerous line and I knew it.

As always, he didn’t answer. Once I’d served my usefulness to him, he’d dropped our frequent communication without so much as a warning. I’d spent so long trying to get as far from him as possible and now that I needed something from him, he was nowhere to be found.

Thoroughly done with myself, I groaned and leaned my head against the tree. “Resistance commander trying to strike conversation with the leader of the First Order…Well done, Solo.” Then suddenly, my mind was struck with an overwhelming pain. I was having another attack.

I stood amongst the familiar flames.

Bodies were scattered around me, their screams echoing through the air.

My usual y/e/c turned yellow as I stared down at the carnage.

Ren stood near me.

Obi-Wan did not.

“Don’t be afraid,” Ren said in an eerily soft voice, “This is who you were always meant to be.” Another scream, but it wasn’t in the dream.

I clung to the tree with one arm, the other was clutching my head to try and make the pain stop. Taking frantic whimpering breaths, I tried to remind myself that it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It was just my nightmare, the one I’d lived through my entire life. It was nothing more.

But then, my grandfather had never not been there.

And I’d never seen myself as a Sith.

I decided that was enough for one day, I didn’t know if there was anything else on my agenda but I’d find something. Anything to keep me out of my own head, which was becoming a more dangerous place to be with every passing day…

————

It was a few hours later, while tucked away with Rey in her corner of the base, that the day took another turn. We were going through the old Jedi texts when Nimi shouted for both of us, “Falcon’s back!”

I groaned in relief, setting my book down and leaping from my seat. Rey and Bee followed close behind as we made our way through the base, but the smoke trail leading back to the ship’s landing area wasn’t a good sign.

Sure enough, the Falcon was in flames. I stopped short at the sight, my beloved ship, my home, burning up. People were flocking to it, some to watch but most to help extinguish the fire. The Falcon was a Resistance symbol and people felt protective over it, it was a legacy.

“It’s on the fire, the whole thing’s on fire! All of it is on fire!” The figure emerging from the chaos typically sparked joy in me, but at the moment of his appearance I found little comfort in his presence. Sensing my anger, Rey stepped forward while I turned my back away from the Falcon and ran my hands over my face trying to keep calm.

“Hey.” “Hey,” Poe greeted.

“There’s a spy?” she asked, I’d admit that I forgot all about the mission in the moment.

“Really could’ve used your help out there,” Poe said loudly over the noise that surrounded us.

“How’d it go?” “Really bad actually…Really bad.”

I inhaled deeply and spun on my heels, my resolve to remain calm fizzling with every word my boyfriend said. “Really? I wouldn’t have been able to tell.” Poe’s hands readjusted themselves on his hips, “Look, you don’t understand-“ “No, Poe,” I raised a finger towards him before pointing to the Falcon, “You clearly don’t understand. What was the one rule I had for taking the Falcon? Don’t do anything dangerous!” “And you don’t understand that I had no choice,” Poe raised his voice, gesturing to the Falcon, “We had First Order on our tails, I did what had to be done.” “And pray tell, what needed to be done to my ship?” I asked, flattening my palms together and pressing my lips together in a faux smile. Poe breathed in to explain before he caught sight of Bee resting in between mine and Rey’s feet. “What’d you do to the droid?”

“What’d you do to the Falcon?” Rey countered.

“The Falcon’s in a lot better shape than he is.” “I beg to differ,” I interjected, my voice raising an octave. “BB-8’s not on fire,” Rey gestured toward the still flaming ship.

“What’s left of him isn’t on fire,” Poe’s eyes widened as he looked down at his droid.

Growing tired of the exchange, Rey cut to the chase, “Tell us what happened.” “You tell me first,” Poe demanded stubbornly.

“I asked you first and you still haven’t given me an answer,” I argued, throwing my hands out to their sides in frustration.

“You know what you are?” Rey began, a sarcastic smile plastered on her face as she stared down Poe.

“What?” “You’re difficult. Really difficult, you’re a difficult man.” “You, you are…” Poe started, letting his sentence end with a growl as he stalked off to examine Bee. Rey went to greet Finn who swept her in up in a hug

I crossed my arms and rotated my posture to speak in his direction, “She’s not wrong.” “You two aren’t exactly easy to deal with all the time either,” he fought back, not even bothering to face me as he examined Bee, “Buddy, look at you. You’re a mess.”

“I’d be a whole lot easier to deal with if you would tell me what the hell happened to my ship,” I raised a finger to him as he began to inhale, “Do not say one thing about Bee, he lost one part and Rey and I were going to fix him up before you got back.” A roar from Chewbacca, hard at work trying to help fix the Falcon gave me the answer I’d been asking for. We’d officially graduated from anger to rage…

“You lightspeed skipped?!” I shouted.

“Yeah, well, it got us back here, didn’t it?” Poe countered.

“Poe, the compressor’s down,” Rey explained, her face exposing her shock.

“Oh, I know, I was there.”

“Every time…” Finn mumbled to himself as he stood to the side of us. “You can’t lightspeed skip the Falcon.”

Poe sprung to his feet, “Actually, turns out you can.” “Does that mean you should?” I scolded. Finn, ever the peacemaker, tried to calm the three of us down. “All right, guys, we just landed, okay?” “Poe, you are never allowed to fly the Falcon again,” I seethed, “Ever.” “You can’t make that call, she’s a Resistance ship,” Poe objected, coming to stand in front of me.

“She’s my ship that I allow select Resistance members to use, of which you are no longer one.” “Okay, guys,” Finn interjected as gently as he could, “Can you two deal with your issues later and actually discuss the mission?”

Looking like a child who had just had a toy taken away, Poe silently stalked away from me with no more than a steely glare. The argument was far from over on both our ends.

“What happened on the mission?” Rey asked, changing the subject for all of our sakes as we followed Poe.

“Bad news, that’s what happened,” Poe explained with his back to us.

“No spy?”

“No, spy.”

“Can we please communicate like adults for five seconds?” I asked, pressing m hands against my mouth in an attempt to not let my fury fly free. “Did we make contact with the spy or not?” Rey asked, leaving no room for interpretation.

“There’s a mole in the First Order, and they sent us a message,” Finn explained, but Bee decided to interrupt with his own retelling of how he’d gotten his injury which caused Poe to stop in his tracks.

“You dropped a tree on him?” he asked Rey.

“You blew both sub-alternators?” she retaliated.

“No, he did more than that,” I spoke up with a humorless laugh, “He may have caused permanent damage to the Falcon, you could’ve torn the whole damn thing apart.” “Well, you know what, maybe you two should’ve been out there with us!” Poe finally exclaimed, we’d gotten to the heart of the matter at last. “You know I want to be out there with you,” Rey cried, “We both do!” “Yeah, but you’re not. You’re here training, for what?” Poe continued, sighing in disappointment afterwards as he looked between us both, “You two are the best fighters we have. We need you, out there, not here.” Silence had fallen and Poe had successfully gotten in the last word, Rey couldn’t fight any more and Finn didn’t want to. I however had plenty more to say on all subjects discussed and as Poe left us, ordering someone to get R2 into reconditioning, I went after him.

“Did you think that conversation was over?”

“Hoped, yes,” he replied, not slowing down to accommodate me. “It’s like talking to a wall,” I growled, walking double time to catch up to him, “I have told you at least ten times why I’m not on missions right now and yet you still give me shit for it.” “Y/n, you know as well as I do that things are dicey right now and we need our best out on the frontlines,” he stated as we argued through the base, “You and Rey are our best and you’re here training for something and you can’t even tell me what it is.” “How am I supposed to tell you when I don’t know what it is?” I asked, waving a hand between the two of us, “I can sense things that you can’t, you have to trust that what I’m doing is best for the long term.” “Well, then maybe don’t give me so much shit next time something happens to the Falcon on my watch when you’re not there and I’m doing what’s best for the long term.” My feet stopped but Poe’s didn’t, causing me to have to speak louder. “You really don’t understand why I’m upset, do you?” He swung a foot around and pivoted, he was visibly tired but still willing to listen. If only the sight of him didn’t fill me with so much anger…This wasn’t how his returns usually went.

“That ship is the last piece of my dad that I have,” I began, willing my voice not to crack, “I don’t have his wedding ring, his jacket, I don’t even have a picture of the two of us. I have the Falcon,” I pointed back in its direction, smoke still rising high above the trees surrounding it, “That’s it. So when it comes back in pieces, you’re right, I’m going to be upset and I’m not going to apologize for it. Because I know if you still had your mother’s A-Wing and someone so much as got a scratch on it, you’d never forget it.”

Poe kept quiet, his softening eyes betraying his hardened stare. I’d won, but it certainly didn’t feel like it. “I’m gonna go try and save what’s left of my father’s ship,” I finished, breaking into a jog back towards the Falcon before Poe could see the tears in my eyes.

————

Grease stained, sweaty and reeking of oil, I finally emerged from under the Falcon with Chewie at my side. She’d be fine, but it had taken a lot of hands to get everything repaired. Poe had done more damage than I’d ever seen done to her, it truly was a miracle they’d made it back alive.

“Can you tell me something?” I asked Chewie as I rubbed furiously at a splotch of grease on my palm, “Was lightspeed skipping really the only way to get out of whatever was going on?”

Chewie groaned his response, telling me that while he didn’t like it at all, he hadn’t come up with any other ideas as to how to survive the TIE attack.

I sighed, partially from exhaustion but also from lingering frustrations, “So do you think I’m being too hard on Poe? I mean, I’m pissed that he did this to Dad’s ship but…if it was the only way to stay alive then…”

My honorary uncle agreed that Poe had probably done the right thing, but by no means was he pleased about what happened to the Falcon. Chewie was just as protective of the Solo family ship as I was.

I hummed in reply as I thought the day’s events over, wondering how much worse it was going to get at the briefing that was only moments away. The intel Poe and Finn had brought back had been being decoded all afternoon and now we were finally going to find out what had been discovered. If the rest of the day had been any indication of how the briefing was going to go, it wasn’t going to be good.

I weaved my way through the growing crowd underneath Tantive IV, scanning faces till I found my mother. When I spotted her, there was no way to get to her. I also was in no condition to stand at the front of the entire Resistance, I’d probably have black oil stains on my skin for days. I slipped in between Connix and Snap, patting the pilot on the shoulder as I took my place.

Poe stepped forward once everyone had assembled, he’d been tucked away in the command center all day during the decoding process. Just before he started speaking, his eyes sought me out for the first time since our argument. All anger had drained from his face, replaced with concern and confusion. I furrowed my brows, silently asking what was wrong from across the crowd, whatever he’d heard had been troublesome…

“We’ve decoded the intel from the First Order spy and it confirms the worst,” he paused to look down and sigh, “Somehow, Palpatine returned.” I wished I could have said I was surprised.

Mom and I caught each other’s eye, our worst suspicions having been confirmed. It was another moment where I realized fairness didn’t exist for some people, one of them being her. My mother had already fought a war against the Emperor, she’d lost her home in the crossfire, and somehow he lived to give her more sorrow. My heart ached at the hardened, yet vulnerable, look that flashed across her face.

“Wait, do we believe this?” Rose asked from her position near me.

“It cannot be, the Emperor’s dead,” Admiral Aftab exclaimed. “Dark science,” Beaumont explained, his eyes widened with shock, “Cloning. Secrets only the Sith knew.” “He’s been planning his revenge. His followers have been building something for years,” Poe continued, “The largest fleet the galaxy has ever known. He calls it the Final Order. In 16 hours, attacks on all free worlds begin. The Emperor and his fleet have been hiding in the Unknown Regions. On a world called Exegol.”

R2 started chirping frantically from behind me.

“Exegol does not appear on any star chart, but legend describes it as a hidden world of the Sith,” 3PO translated to the group.

“There were always whispers of his hunger to cheat death,” Beaumont said with a shake of his head. I hadn’t heard of cloning having been done since the formation of the clone army decades before. It all seemed like an explanation you’d find in a children’s storybook, but it was our reality.

Mom had gone to stand next to Poe, conversing on how Palpatine had been pulling the strings since the very start of our problems, as we swallowed the information amongst ourselves. I didn’t know where I fit into any of what was going on around me, all I knew was that I needed to be at the helm of the fight. The something that I’d been training for was upon us and after hearing the details, I knew it would be uglier than I’d imagined.

“If we want to stop him, we must find him,” Maz said to the group, “We must find Exegol.” “General, Commander Solo?” Rey interrupted, I hadn’t even noticed she’d slipped away and returned, now carrying a book under her arm, “Can I speak with you both?” I nodded before snaking my way through the crowd, me and Mom followed her back to her station where she laid out one of the Jedi texts for us to see. “I know how to get to Exegol,” she said confidently.

“Tell me,” Mom urged as my eyes skimmed the pages of the dusty book Rey had poured over. “Luke searched for it, for a long time. He nearly found it. There are ciphers here I can’t read but he said to get there, you need one of these,” she pointed to a small triangular object, “A Sith wayfinder. They’re compasses that lead the way to Exegol. To stop what we both know is coming…I need to finish what Luke started. Find Exegol. Find the Emperor.” “She’s right,” I endorsed my friend’s idea wholeheartedly, “If Uncle Luke made it this far, he’s already done half the work for us. Look, it says the last place he’d been when searching for one was on Pasaana. This is our shot at stopping this.” Mom regretfully shook her head and shot us down with a single syllable, “No.”

“We don’t exactly have any other options,” I said confusedly, “We’ve got a set course right in front of us, we need to chart it.” “I don’t want to go without your blessing, I can’t speak for Y/n, but I will,” Rey said with conviction in her eyes, “I will. It’s what you would do.”

I watched expectantly as we awaited Mom’s answer, knowing that we both made too much sense for her to say no again. The good news was if she did, we didn’t technically need her permission. I owned my own ship and I didn’t need to order Rey to come with, one way or another we were getting to Pasaana.

“You two can go,” Mom finally relented, “But I hope you both understand just how critical this mission is. There’s no room for error, we have a little over one day to stop the attack.” “And we will,” I quickly assured her, “There’s nobody more suited for this task than us.” “I can’t argue there,” Mom admitted with a sigh, looking up proudly at her two Padawans, “Get what you need, you’ll leave immediately.”

--------

A/N: And we’re off once again...Hope everybody enjoyed this one, we’ve got a lot in store for these last few chapters. Hopefully I can still surprise you all a little lol. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x solo!reader #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction

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otomescriptdoctor · 3 years

Text

Masking - Chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939147/chapters/68493032 You step off the elevator at the top floor.

The Interior is sumptuous, but you don't get time to take it in fully before Soejima leads you inside. He holds the door open, and bows slightly. His commitment to playing Prince Charming would be impressive if he wasn't the target of your investigation.

"After you, Nagisa."

You nod your head and step inside a bright, open space. It reminds you of a greenhouse, with floor to ceiling windows allowing natural light to flood the space. Harp music flows in from another room. Did he hire a harp player? Every pluck is clear as a bell, and soothing. Two massive bookcases dominate this main room, one filled with decor and books-as-decor and the other, adjacent to a wet bar, filled with bottles of rare vintages of wine. Many of them still look full. There is no ladder in sight.

You approach the center of the room to look at the main spread. A semi circular leather couch and two accent chairs surround a glass topped low round table filled with trays of cookies and sandwiches, chocolate, desserts. Despite the sumptuous spread, the relaxed atmosphere suggests that many of his guests are regular attendees.

Around the room are other tables for private conversation, appointed with bright white table cloths. The chatter is lively. Hotel waiters glide throughout to refresh tea pots and trays of treats.

Nothing sketchy or sleazy at all. You inwardly sigh in relief that this will be nothing like the suggestive environs of the masquerade. And yet...you feel a slight twinge of regret that you likely won't be verbally sparring with Kei Soejima today. He seems to be on his best behavior today, in fact.

This mission has nothing to do with wrongdoing, and you remind yourself this is a target and a mission somewhat different than your usual. You've always gotten a thrill out of exposing a closet full of skeletons. But this is merely watching someone. Being reduced to a walking camera feels below your formidable skill set.

Soejima turns around to face you. "In addition to the basic afternoon tea menu…there's champagne, brandy and other drinks as well." He waves to the well stocked wet bar you noticed on your way in. "Feel free to help yourself to whatever you'd like."

You reply politely, "Thank you. What a lovely space you have up here."

A smile warms his face -- accepting your compliment. He takes a deep bow before continuing, "Thank you, I'm flattered you think so. I want this space to be a place for lots of people to come and share ideas."

He starts walking towards the windows, and your feet follow him to a small table by the window. You both take your seats and a waiter approaches the table. Soejima claps his hands, exclaiming, "it wouldn't be a good tea party without any tea. Let's start off with some, shall we?"

"Sure."

"Your choices are Earl Grey, Assam, and Darjeeling."

"I will take the Darjeeling, if you don't mind."

Soejima smiles at the water. "I'll have the same, then. Bring over a little of everything, as well." The waiter nods and disappears through a side door.

Soejima is certainly laying it on thick today. How should you approach conversation? You're to assess the real reason he came to Japan. Typically you get close to your target for information, but you're hesitant. His scent completely overwhelmed your senses two nights ago. Today it’s barely noticeable. To say your hindbrain is confused is an understatement. Your rational mind is relieved - you can treat him like anyone else.

“Soejima, I heard you own this floor?” “Yes, a friend of mine owns this hotel, so… he sold me this floor to use while I stay in Japan on business. He gives me free rein to hold whatever gatherings I want. I'm very lucky.”

You scan his eyes for any hints of mischief and find none. His face is a perfect mask of calm. Not likely to get anything out of him in public. You maintain your wariness, though. Your eyes flit to the scarf he is wearing around his neck. It’s a bit out of place, and it looks a little suspicious for a well-put together man like Soejima.

“As you saw from my business card, I am a diplomat. So whenever I am in Japan, I like to make the most of my time. Oh! Right on time.” His attention snaps over to the approaching waiter.

They bring a large tray and expertly set up a stand, carefully balancing the large tray on it. The spread they brought over is rather ambitious for your small table. Soejima helps with setting out our tea, with a small platter of cookies, scones, and sandwiches. The spread is complete with two small cups of soup and a single hors d’oeuvre on a plate in front of each of you.IIt takes up your table in no time. The smells from the savory soup make your mouth water. You do get to eat fancy food for work quite often, but this is a whole new level. And you were sure the British weren’t known for their cuisine.

The waiter rattles off, “Today you have a stilton cheese and asparagus soup, watercress and egg salad sandwich, with a selection of savory and sweet scones and spreads. The amuse-bouche is pincho with cheddar cheese.The cookies are anise seed madeleines dipped in chocolate. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to notify one of the staff.”

You can’t quite stop yourself from exclaiming, “This looks fantastic!” One of the perks of being a spy in high places has been getting to sample exquisite flavors. Today looks to be no exception.

“I've found that excellent food is important when you're looking to get people to open up to you. Essential for me, as I run my family's charitable foundation,” Kei offers, while spreading butter on to a scone. All of a sudden, his scent hits you and you find your attention fixed on his adam’s apple as he bites into the scone. Soejima catches you staring. He bends forward, his look is mischievous -- it makes your heart flip. The woodsy spiced aroma tickles your nostrils and you feel your Omega standing at attention. It's still faint and yet, Your attention is drawn to the gathered satin kerchief around his neck. It’s slipped.

Soejima looks around before speaking in a conspiratorial tone, "I take it your heat is over? I'm trying to be on my best behavior today since I knew I'd be seeing a particularly delicious Omega again today."

He’s choosing now to show his hand? Interesting. But it’s better to slide past that topic given the present company. “So you're looking to snare some Japanese donors, then with this gathering?”

His eyes twinkle. “You did say you wanted to get involved with a charity. You are more than welcome to make a contribution.” He winks as he takes a sip from his tea.

You know he's playing with you, but you seize on the charitable donation topic to back off from the sudden tension his little admission generated. You want to keep this professional and detached. For your own sake. You pop open your clutch purse to take out one of your prepared business cards, recalling your alias's business when he holds up one finger, looking across the room.

“Please pardon me for a moment.”

He sets down his cup onto his saucer and scoots back from the table. It’s only a few long strides before he’s back at the entrance to greet an older woman, walking with a pronounced limp. He offers her his arm, and he leads her toward the window table next to ours. You catch the conversation as they approach

“You'll love the view from here.”

“Thank you Kei, you're always such a dear.”

“On the contrary, I should be thanking you for making such an effort to be here today.”

Our Alpha is considerate. He is a good Alpha.

“I could never turn down an invitation from you. You're looking well, as usual.”

Kei smiles and pulls out the seat, motioning for her to sit.

She pats her gloved hand on his and takes a seat. Her seat faces yours, so you briefly make eye contact. You smile warmly at her. She responds with gleeful surprise and turns to Soejima, “Let me guess Kei, is this your…”

You look at Soejima curiously.

Soejima laughs, “She's a new...friend. We’ve only just met.”

Her excitement fades. “Oh, I see. She's just so lovely I thought perhaps… but I shouldn't pry.”

Their voices lower and you pick at your food, trying to angle your recording device toward the conversation.

“Don't worry about it. Everyone is always telling me I should settle down.”

“You must have lots of girls chasing after you. You admire Japanese culture and you come from such a fine family. Not to discount all the hard work you've already done at your age to fight poverty.”

Is this...Is this woman a plant? At first, you thought this was a genuine conversation, but it feels like she's rattling off his resume.

“You're too kind, really.”

"I'd trust you with my entire fortune. And the work you do to help…"

Come on. Isn't this laying it on a bit thick? Even for a diplomat? You resist the urge to roll your eyes back into your skull. You stop paying attention, but only because you've already read all this before. You scan the room, it must be full of donors. You recognize a few socialites from the tabloids in attendance, but at least they're the nicer ones.

And every penny from these people is meticulously accounted for, from your little hacking session yesterday. But your gut says there's still something more at play. Between his weak scent -- that somehow still nags at your memory -- and his carefully prepared image. There must be something.

Their conversation shifts gears into the philosophy of donating.

“Donations are in essence another asset that help stimulate economic function. It does better for the money to move through an economy rather than simply holding the funds. Take a look at the Forbes list of richest people for example…”

This feels rehearsed to death. You wonder if your gut thinks that he might be an MI6 asset, just exceptionally well funded. Members of the royal family have served in the armed forces, why wouldn't some descendant of a well appointed Earl be an intelligence agent? You finish off your cup of soup while thinking. Soejima sneaks a glance back at you, and you make eye contact.

As if on cue, your mind wanders again to the masquerade.

"I want to lay claim to you."

The intense stare of his dark eyes and his potent spicy scent from your memory rush into your senses. You look away, deciding you need some air and distance.

---

You gave yourself an impossible task, trying to simultaneously keep an eye on Soejima, but also maintaining some distance. Left with very little choice but to make conversation with the attendees. Glancing back to your table, it looks like Kei similarly has his hands full with meeting and greeting all of his guests. Perhaps this can be to your advantage, though part of you is still concerned about meeting with him alone. You did take an opportunity earlier to reapply your work perfume and to pop a suppressant. That little tease of his scent was sending you down a dark road. It’s never been like this before. Entirely new territory is not how you like to perform out in the field.

You have a few more conversations with other donors, they’re all so similar. They’re all eager to extoll all of Mr. Soejima’s virtues, every single person speaking very highly of him. It’s downright bizarre. Your stomach rumbles, since you didn’t get the opportunity to polish off much more than the single bite of the amuse-bouche and the cup of soup. You pass by your table, another woman is sitting in your seat, chatting happily with the host. You notice the teapot is empty, and you grab it to go get a refill on a sachet of tea and hot water. When you get back to the table, your chair is empty. Mr. Soejima looks a bit tired. His scarf is tied back up, covering his neck. He lights up when you place the newly refilled teapot on the table.

See, Alpha is considerate. Didn’t want to send you into a heat. Not yet.

You want to make sure this day goes well, and swallowing your internal struggle is part of it. Now you pour on the charm to him. “And here I was hoping that I would get a chance to talk to you a little too, Mr. Soejima.”

His eyes narrow at your request. He pours himself a cup of tea, and takes a deep swig. Color and life returning to his face. He laughs and replies, "I didn't expect you to be the one to ask me out! Do you have any plans for later today?"

"Not especially, Mr. Soejima." You try keeping your smile mysterious. Maybe if you can keep him on tilt, he'll slip up.

"Great! My private residence is right above where we're standing now. Why don't we chat there when this is over? And please, call me Kei."

You smile back at him. "Now who's being forward, Kei?" You draw out your pronunciation of his name for emphasis. It's not often that people who are not dating refer to each other by their given names.

"Oh, is it rude of me to invite a woman I just met back to my place? Please allow me to beg for your pardon." Kei exaggerates his bow with his over the top apology. You giggle daintily. It would be natural for you to play along to disarm him. Your eyes meet again, something in his gaze tells you that the ball is in your court, but his tone tells you that he expects you to come with him regardless.

You turn your head to the staircase leading to his private residence before replying. You want to make sure he knows you got his message.

"Not at all. I'd love to join you."

"Wonderful. Could I ask you to bear with these ladies and gentlemen for just a little while longer?" His arrogant mischief once again replaced by his charming prince facade.

"Of course."

You're not really trying to get him indebted to you, but feeling that way might get him talking and trusting a bit easier. You continue to maneuver among the guests like a secondary host, since half the ladies have already imagined you're dating anyway. A little acting to gain his trust will go a long way, you hope. It's been a valuable tool in your arsenal to keep yourself from having to sleep with targets like other agents.

---

The sun's last rays stream through the window, the orange haze encouraging guests along to their dinner engagements. As the last person leaves, Kei waves away the hotel staff and turns to you, all apologies.

"I was supposed to entertain you, and you ended up helping me instead. I'm terribly sorry about that."

"I'm just glad I was able to make myself useful," You reply with a smile.

Kei returns your smile, and indicates that you should follow him. He shows you up the set of stairs in the corner of the room. At the top of the stairs is a small landing with a door and a keypad. You recognize it as a SHIBA lock. Makes sense given his associates.

The door opens into a luxurious open concept suite of rooms. His scent is everywhere here. Already you feel your concentration slipping. Kei gestures for you to walk in first, and you are starting to regret this decision. You feel him following you closely, and try to calm your steadily beating heart.

That's when you hear the door lock click into place.

#also on ao3 #voltage romance games #voltage otome #masquerade kiss #kei soejima #fanfic

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sunsiac · 5 years

Text

king and queen / jaehyun [7]

genre: murder mystery, romance, angst

member: jaehyun

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none

summary: a young prince and a knight’s daughter are an unlikely pair, but nonetheless, these two were attached at the hip as children. Without any royal duty or stress, it proved to be an unexpected yet beautiful friendship. even as they grew up together, they only developed to be more inseparable. they proved this when she, hakyeong, turned 16, and he, jaehyun, gave her one of the most precious gifts he could; both of their first kisses. but it was bad timing. their respective responsibilities dawned on them quicker than they would’ve imagined, forcing them to grow apart. 5 years later, both of them 21, meet again after jaehyun’s older brother who is about to be crowned king is found dead. A string of murders throughout the castle forces them to come together and find the one behind it before one of them is next.

—

HAKYEONG:

When our dorm room began to tint with the first signs of sunlight, I slid out of bed. I’d been up practically all night, incapable of putting my concerns, or even myself, to bed. There were hours spent pacing around wherever I could; the halls, the dorm, even the courtyard if I let myself.

Because, even though everybody else was at ease now that there was a suspect, I was on my toes. It still made sense for me to be anxious. Someone had hidden so well that even the council couldn’t find them, and they’d blamed me. I was the last person anybody would think to expect, but the plan had still worked? It blew my mind and broke my heart at the same time.

Careful not to wake Eunhye, I peeked outside the door and looked either way down the hall. I knew that it was a risk going out this early when I was still the one in question for Hyeonsik, but I couldn’t force myself to stay in that room any longer.

When I completed that not a soul was present, I slipped out and shut the door quietly behind me as not to wake others rooming nearby. Since the council released me as a suspect, hours and numbers had loosened for everyone. And without them, the halls were deathly empty. But maybe that was a good thing. I would be back into my dorm room if that weren’t the case.

I let out a sigh as I stood anxiously, looking up and down the hallways that seemed to stretch for miles in both ways. My first instinct told me to walk around for a little until the sun had risen, but I couldn’t do that anymore.

Still, there’s no way anyone will see me this early in the morning.

It was like a devil and an angel on my shoulder as I peered down the still-dark hall. But I ended up concluding that it was still too early to run into anyone else in the halls. I had a place in mind, too, and it was close, so it didn’t seem like all that bad of a plan.

I bit my lip, taking one last glance back and forth. Ah, whatever. I’m doing it.

When I reached the courtyard, it became easy to release the tension I was carrying. It seemed stupid to even think, but I was over the moon I could have even the smallest amount of time to myself with no stares.

The sunlight was brighter in the courtyard than it was in the halls, but it was still a lovely early morning kind of dim. It bathed the yard in a vast yet golden hue that most people would associate with the sunset. From this limited look alone, I could tell I preferred it more than in the afternoon. I exhaled as I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at an adjacent plot of purple gardenias. They were lovely, but I’d never seen them before.

I guess they still have the time to plant new flowers in the middle of this.

I let out a soft laugh in disbelief as I stretched my arms out, loosening up a bit before walking over to my normal spot. I had to turn a few corners and wind through a few flowers patches to get to it, but it was worth it. This space had the only marble bench in the entire courtyard, but what made it special to me was what he had carved into it.

“Hey, I’m curious; What’s your favourite part of the castle to visit? You’re here all the time, so you must have one,” Jaehyun had asked me this once when we were just reaching 16. I remember the casual way he’d asked it, hands stuffed inside the pockets of his slacks as we sat under an old willow tree.

I bit my lip at his question, having never thought about it much. I was at a loss of an answer until I looked up at the branches hanging down in front of me, my answer coming to me immediately. “I like the courtyards,” I’d said, his expression unchanging as I continued. “They’re nice to be in, you know? Especially because they’re so pretty.”

I’d found out two months later after the occasional question, he’d put a plaque into a bench I’d described to him in the courtyard.

“It’s the only marble bench in the whole courtyard, I’m sure,” I’d explained, making him smile. “And it’s right by a pond? With flowers? And a tree? It’s like a scene from a fairy tale. I love it.”

The plaque had nothing to do with me particularly, the words on it saying, ‘for this castle’s Cinderella.’

It was something so small, but I still smiled about it even today.

When I began to go around the same huge willow tree that stood tall there, I found myself strangely eager to find the bench again. At least, until I noticed someone already sitting there. They were deathly still, startling me into taking a hesitant step back.

But I immediately relaxed when I noticed who it was. His light brown hair was a little messy, his bangs pulled back and the ends curling up slightly as if he’d gotten out of bed only minutes ago. Which I’d deemed was likely.

Even his clothes, they were casual. Not something a prince should ever wear outside his chamber. Thoughts raced through my head as I tried to decide if I should find somewhere else, or if I should brave it and go up and sit next to him. I figured the second option would be awkward since the council had accused me of being a suspect for his brother’s murder. Not to mention that since I hadn’t talked to him in years. But I hoped that he didn’t believe in the rumours that were flying around. I hoped that a sliver of him still believed in me. Yet, I backed up, deciding I was too afraid to ask him for myself.

I didn’t get far before a voice asked, “Why are you up?”

I wanted to pretend I didn’t hear it, the invitation to have a conversation seeming too menacing. I hesitantly looked back towards the man, kind of relieved to see that he hadn’t even moved. He still stared at the still waters in front of him, looking almost transfixed.

I took this as an opportunity to take a few steps away, hoping that I could still slip away before he said anything else. But I didn’t get too far before he picked his head up, his dark eyes piercing mine.

I still stood my ground as I straightened up, avoiding his eyes by looking at the water. I understood why he seemed so infatuated with it, especially at this time of day. In the afternoons, usually depending on the positioning of the sun, you could see every nook and cranny the small body of water offered. But, like now, it was the opposite. The water was ambiguous. You could see a lot of things, plants, even the slight peek of animals, but it was dark. You could only see a few feet down, and it was oddly fascinating.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I explained softly, taking into account how his brows furrowed at my formal tone. I hated to use formal tones with him, to be nervous to respond, even when I wanted to respond casually. But I couldn’t help being nervous around him, because I didn’t know what he thought yet.

But, to my surprise, he didn’t react harshly to it. He just stared at me for a few more seconds, blinking tiredly before nodding and turning forward again.

“But you don’t look like you got much sleep, either,” I pointed out softly, daring to even do so. Once again, he said nothing, just shrugging lamely.

My eyes wandered back up to him again. He looked so detached, even now. And I felt bad. I felt especially bad, too, because I knew Hyeonsik’s death was causing all this. And I knew he most likely thought it was me who had done it.

But he began to laugh. It was a soft, short sound, but it was still enough to make me look over at him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, blinking.

“I didn’t. I guess that makes two of us,” he replied, ignoring my question altogether as his lips curved up into a small smile.

I couldn’t help smile back, my thoughts finally starting to lag with sleep. it’s always at the wrong times.

At least, this did finally give me the excuse to leave. But before I could say anything, he asked me, “Hakyeong, do you remember when I brought you with me to one of my training sessions? Do you remember how hard it was for you?”

The random question caught me off guard but I still nodded. That time, he had tried to teach me how to use throwing knives. But we both deemed it might as well be impossible for me to learn when I couldn’t even hold a knife correctly.

“But, I guess that’s a dumb thing to ask. You’ve probably practised with knives since then, right?” He said this before I could answer, hanging his head again, sounding almost disappointed.

I knew it would be better for me to say, ‘Jaehyun, it’s been 7 years. I have.’ But then I would be lying.

“I do offence work,” I admitted, almost nervous to correct him. “Since I use swords, I need not practice with knives.”

He looked up at me, an unexpected look flashing through his eyes.

“You’re a swordsman?” He asked, getting a hesitant nod from me. He was suddenly smiling again. It was an insignificant thing, but he still seemed strangely grateful for my answer.

“That’s right. I guess you never have been good with knives.” He nodded, almost as if he was saying this to himself.

“Yes, but what are you trying to get at?” I asked, still genuinely confused at where he was trying to take the conversation.

“It’s nothing.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

I could feel my skin flushing in embarrassment, but I tried to laugh it off to the best of my ability. “It’s no big deal. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here so early.”

He asked, “Do you do this a lot? Wake up early?”

“What I do a lot is stay up. But, now I have to wait until sunrise to come out,” I said, the atmosphere almost dropping immediately at my words.

“Why?” he asked curiously. “Why do you have to wait?”

I got silent at that, unsure of how to answer. But, I didn’t know how else to say it. “It’s just, it still feels dangerous to be out at night when there’s still a killer on the loose,”

His expression was unchanging, but I could tell that my words had still affected him. I couldn’t tell where he stood on this yet, but I was too afraid to ask at this point.

To my surprise, he did nothing but nod, looking at the ground as he mumbled thoughtfully. “Be careful, Hakyeong. Two deaths would be hard for anyone to handle,”

I felt a huge sense of relief flood through me at his words, but I couldn’t find the right words. So I just settled for a nod and smiled.

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

He looked up to me, replicating my smile. But I did not notice when it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

#neowritingsnet #nct #jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #Jaehyun au #its been months but here I am 😘#nct 127 #Jaehyun fluff #Jaehyun angst #Jaehyun imagine #nct imagine #nct 127 imagine #kpop #my writing #jimin-osamu

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writehardwhumpharder · 4 years

Text

Carson - Panic Attack drabble

(also posted to Ao3, I’d link it if I knew how)

"Can you come pick me up?"

Morris looked at the time and frowned, Carson wouldn't be calling him if it wasn't important. "Can't you get a taxi?"

"I don't have any money on me, and I just, need to get out here," Carson said. He stood on a street corner in a neighborhood of New York City he'd never seen before in all his time living there. It was that strange time in the early morning when it was just barely light outside and people were starting to make their way to work in a sleepy daze. A guy walked into him, nearly knocking Carson over, then had the nerve to tell him to watch where he's going. If he had some energy to spare he'd trip the guy. "Please."

"Alright, alright, where are you?" He asked. Carson heard rustling on the other line as Morris grabbed his keys and made his way out to his car.

"Um, the corner of... 69th and 54th." Carson said looking at the nearest street signs.

Morris put the address into his maps and merged in with the morning traffic. What had the kid so rattled? All he could do was get there as fast as he could and hope that Carson could take care of himself for the next 20 or 30 minutes.

Carson sat down on a bench next to the bus stop to wait. He tried to remember why he'd gone out without gloves and a hat in the first place. Though his coat kept him warm the frigid air still did a number on his nose and ears. He picked up a little lingering energy and carefully used it to heat the air around the covered bench. An older lady sitting on the opposite end seemed to relax a little, also enjoying the sudden warmth.

Two buses came and went and Carson was getting a little impatient. He didn't have enough charge left on his phone to play games so he just sat there, watching all the strange people come and go. He banged his head on the plastic wall repeatedly, just to distract himself from the turmoil within himself. He felt... confused, scared, anxious, restless. While he did remember going out last night he couldn't quite remember how he got here.

"Oh don't do that," the old lady said to him. Carson thought she would be gone by now. She must be waiting for someone.

Carson ignored her and squeezed his eyes shut, clinging to the basic rhythm it made. She scooted closer to him and touched his hand. Big mistake. Instead of being comforting the touch triggered his magic which was going a little haywire lately. He looked at her with his senses and saw before him just a faint glow. The kind of waning soul that a person had when they were near death. He jerked his hand away and stared straight ahead. That was the last thing he needed that morning.

Carson closed his eyes and went back to what he was doing until a shadow blocked the sun against his eyelids. Carson blinked wearily up at the tall man, feeling so small in front of him. A man passing by staggered to a stop next to Morris, "Hey you got any-"

He flashed his badge and the guy was quick to walk around him. The old lady gasped and covered her mouth, "Oh no, you aren't here to take my grandson away again are you?" She pleaded.

Morris sighed, "Don't worry, I already found the idiot I was looking for." He turned back to Carson, "Now get up I don't want to be late for work."

Carson stood and followed Morris obediently toward the car parked on the other side of the street. Morris had thought it would be easier to find him in a neighborhood like this. In his expensive coat Carson should have stuck out like a sore thumb, but there was something off about his eyes, he looked a little crazed, like he hadn't slept in a couple days. And his hair was in a similar state of disarray.

As Carson walked behind him a strange feeling washed over him, "What if he's still here somewhere, watching me?"

Morris stopped and turned around, "Alright, tell me right now, and be honest, are you on something?" He questioned. Carson shook his head adamantly. "Then what the hell are you talking about?"

"I remember now. I was following someone, but I lost him somewhere around here." Carson explained, looking around uneasily.

"Well it doesn't matter now, they can't be dumb enough to mess with the police," he said, raising his voice on the word "police" as a not so subtle warning to anyone around who might want to cause them trouble. They started walking again and came to a crosswalk. Just as Morris was about to step into the road he heard Carson hiss from behind him.

He whirled around, "What is it this time?"

Carson stood there with a hand over his eyes and his teeth clenched. "Nothing, it's just, my magic is going a little haywire today." He blinked his eyes and was relieved when they went back to normal. He's not used to his vision shifting so suddenly like that. Just as he was about to step into the street it happened again. Carson groaned and held his head with both hands. What the fuck is wrong with me? His eyes kept flashing back and forth dizzyingly. One second it was sunny outside then the next everything grew dark and all he could see was the magical energy around him and the glow of peoples' souls. That's when it hit him.

Carson looked over at the bus stop on the adjacent street corner where three men stood waiting for the bus. But when his vision shifted again, there was nothing there. No soul, not even an outline of a person. His eyes can play tricks on him but his senses don't lie, they show the world in its most basic form. And when he looked at where the three men should be, they simply weren't there.

Carson's eyes finally went back to normal and he shrunk back, making some small noise of panic. This time Morris looked at him with genuine concern as his face went white in a matter of seconds, the fear in his eyes tripling. "D-do you see them? At the bus stop, those th-three guys." He stumbled over his words, eyes glued to the spot he was talking about.

"Yeah what about them?" Morris asked. Carson stumbled backward again and Morris caught his shoulder.

"They're not real, they're not," Carson said, nearly hysterical at this point. His whole body started trembling, and not from the cold. Morris looked at each of the guys, they appeared completely normal, they weren’t even standing in a group.

"Carson, I need you to calm down. I don't know what you see but there's nothing wrong. You might just be having a panic attack," Morris said, his voice smooth and calming. He's had some experience talking people down after traumatic events.

One of the guys stood up suddenly and Carson's eyes went wide with fear, "no, no, no, no..." He clutched Morris's coat with one hand, "I'm fucking serious, they're not real, they have no souls." Carson finally got the words out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"They're just waiting for the bus, no one is gonna hurt you." Morris said, trying again to calm him down. "Let's just get to the car, okay?" Carson wasted enough time that they'd have to wait through a whole light before it turned to walk again.

A truck passed by, hiding the men momentarily, and when it was out of the way one of the men was gone. Carson shrieked. Where could he have disappeared to in those few seconds? He could be anywhere. Carson's heart pounded in his chest and his breathing got faster and faster. Unable to scream or form words he just started making this, "nnngh" sound over and over again.

Morris still wasn't convinced anything was wrong but he kept his eyes peeled anyway, ready to reach for his gun at any moment. Something did feel strange to him, but not strange enough to send him into a full blown panic like it did Carson. At this point his whole mission was just somehow getting him to the car.

In a last ditch effort to preserve his sanity Carson tried to reason with himself that he really was just seeing things. Staying up all night must have made him paranoid. Just to be sure, he had to check again. Fighting to keep his breathing under control Carson looked at the two men still standing at the bus stop then he closed his eyes and looked at them with his magic. His heart clenched when he saw the same thing he did before, absolutely nothing. Although now that he looked at it again he swore he saw the faintest of shadows. Not only where they not alive, but the absence of life was so strong they had to be more than dead.

Carson opened his eyes again and everything went blurry. His legs turned to jelly, leaving only Morris's strong grip keeping him upright.

Without warning, the two men snapped their heads in his direction at the same exact time. Their soulless eyes met his and he heard voice, clear as day, as if someone was standing right next to him and whispering in his ear.

"Carson Hall. We need to talk."

All the tension he'd been holding in his body melted away as his eyes rolled back in his skull.

#whump #oc drabble #Carson Hall #Henry Morris #confusion #fear #panic #panic attack #paranoia #magic #dizzy #collapse #fainting

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plus-size-reader · 5 years

Text

Odd

Derek Hale x Stilinski! Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1476 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Stiles' sister comes for a visit and Derek is shocked at how gorgeous she is...she isn't like Stiles at all

———————————————————————————————————

The woman standing in front of Derek Hale was...

Absolutely,

Without a shadow of a doubt,

Not a Stilinski.

There was nothing in the world that could be done to convince him that you were. He knew Stiles well, and the very idea that the two of you could even share oxygen was too much for him to handle.

You didn't have a single thing in common, and it didn't make any sense. You had only been in his vicinity for a few moments and already he could feel your poise and calm demeanor washing over him, unlike the erratic nature that bathed him every time the teen was around.

And your voice, oh your voice...It was sweet, and hit him like a fresh summer breeze, with a calming quality that could make even the most wild betas stop in their tracks.

If ever Derek had been speechless, it was now. He couldn't think of a single thing to say as you neared him, prompted by your wiry little brothers introduction. Now, Derek liked to think of himself as a pretty smooth but in this moment, all he could think about was the way the harsh lights of the Stilinski's dining room reflected off your hair.

"So...he doesn't talk much then?" You smiled, a good-natured teasing in your tone. You didn't mean anything by the words, but still, he felt the slight need to defend himself. He didn't want you to think that there was anything wrong with you and that was why he was holding back.

Everyone knew that Derek had a really hard time expressing his feelings and that was just frustration and aggression, so how was he supposed to deal with a crush.

"Usually we can't shut this chatterbox up" Stiles grinned, clearly cracking himself up with what he thought was the funniest joke anyone had ever told. In reality, you'd heard enough about the man from both Stiles and Scott to know that he was kidding, but that didn't make it any less funny.

It wasn't until you laughed that Derek understood the family resemblance. The laughter began as a series of giggles that made their way up your throat in the most genuine cackling Derek had ever heard. It was endearing somehow, even though Stiles' laugh was enough to give him a splitting migraine at time.

There was just something about you, and no matter what Derek tried to do, he couldn't shake the butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He was hooked on you, and he didn't even know your name.

He had a brief memory of what Scott called you on the occasional phone call to check on you, but there was absolutely no way to know if that was right. And what would be the most embarrassing thing in the world? Calling you by the wrong name.

It took him a moment, just staring off into space as you and the teen boys moved on to better conversation in the living room but as soon as it hit him, the single word erupted from his lips.

"Y/N!"

Your attention snapped up to him instantly, mild alarm on your face as you focused in on him. He hadn't meant for that to be so loud and pronounced, but he couldn't help it. He felt as though he'd made progress in easing the tension in the room.

"Yes Derek?" You hum, looking back at your brother sitting adjacent to you on the couch slightly, a questioning, but somehow amused look in your eyes. That was the look, the look that would inevitably kill him...how was it possible that you were so captivating? Before Derek could say a single thing, his fight or flight instinct kicked in and he was gone, out the back door before you could ask where he was going.

Having men run from you wasn't exactly a new occurrence so you didn't think much of it, until a few days later when you saw him again.

You had just finished your first official day subbing at Beacon Hills high school, and were in the process of loading your bag into the back seat of your car when you heard it.

It was a light thumping at first, and then it grew into something more, knocking on the side of your window. That was when it became abundantly clear that someone was trying to get your attention.

Foolishly, you had assumed that it was one of your students, or Stiles coming to bother you but when you stood up, you saw none other than Derek Hale, fidgeting lightly against your car.

"Derek? What are you doing here?" A viable question, considering Derek hadn't been to school in years and had no reason to be standing in the parking lot right now. He didn't answer you right away, just staring at your face as if trying to recall a distant memory, until finally the dam broke.

"Your brother is a nuisance" he began, not really believing that was a good idea but having nothing more to go off of.

He wasn't wrong. Stiles could be a lot to handle and often couldn't keep his mouth shut, no matter how hard you prompted him to do so. It didn't help that Derek didn't seem like the type to put up with too much of that in the first place.

Still, you couldn't help but chuckle at the way he said it. It was so casual, and almost relieved as if he thought it was a secret he was letting out into the world. "He can be. Is that what you wanted to tell me?" You ask, knowing there has to be more.

At first Derek shrugged, unsure if it was really worth it but you weren't about to accept that. "Come on Hale, I spent all day with a bunch of hormonal blobs of anxiety, I need to have a grown up conversation before I go crazy" You pleaded, opening your driver side door and sliding it, prompting him to join you from the passengers side.

There was another Stilinski trait rearing its head...you weren't very patient. You also fidgeted a lot, which Derek picked up on after a few minutes in the car, because even with it parked, your fingers danced along the steering wheel.

"So...what is your deal?" You laugh, waiting for him to speak before offering anything else to the conversation. It was increasingly obvious that he had something on his mind, but you had absolutely no idea what it was.

Another deep breath from Derek and finally he let you in on what in the world was bothering him, though it wasn't what you expected. "I think I'm in love with you, and I don't want to be"

It was open, honest but something about it was difficult. That wasn't exactly the ideal way to be told that someone was in love with you. Apparently though, Derek hadn't been given the memo.

"Really? and why don't you? What's wrong with me?" you asked, it wasn't that you took personal offense to his words, or even cared at all about what he was saying, you just wanted to know what he was thinking.

Why did he insist on being such a pain all the time? It was no wonder Stiles found him so aggravating.

"It's not you, its your family...how is it possible that you and Stiles are related at all? You're so charming and amazing! And he's so-" Derek rambled, his slight outburst was very much out of character for him but you couldn't say that you minded.

It was entertaining to see him so out of his element, even after not knowing him for so long. You could tell that this was difficult for him, and it was funny. "...Odd" you supplement, allowing yourself to take a slight step forward toward the man, though it wasn't exactly intentional.

"Yeah, Stiles is odd, but there's something about you that's different" He shrugged, obviously just as unhappy about this as you. "Alright Derek, its clear that you're feeling these things that are hard for you to admit, so how about you pick me up at eight when my dad gets off of his shift and we'll go get some grub" You smile, turning the key at your right hand that brought your car to life.

It was the only thing you knew to do. You weren't opposed to seeing Derek again or seeing where those feelings may go, so dinner it was. As much as Derek Hale didn't like to be out of control, he wasn't going to let you go, not yet. "Sounds good" he allowed, exiting your car slowly and jogging off into the woods without so much as a word.

He was going on a date with a Stilinski, for whatever reason.

#derek hale #derek hale x plus size reader #derek hale x ps reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x plus size reader #teen wolf x ps reader #tw #tw x plus size reader #tw x ps reader

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joon-bugs · 5 years

Text

Taste

~Today marks two very important things: The first post of a Jimin smut, and my birthday! This is a gift for both you and me. Enjoy!~

Synopsis: You decide to wear Jimin's shirt on a lazy afternoon. He takes notice of this and comes to the conclusion that you look like a good substitution for breakfast

word count: 2,331

pairing: Jimin/Reader

genre: smut

warnings: fingering, swearing, oral (f receiving), teasing, begging, praising, kitchen christening ;)

It was late afternoon by the time you managed to wake up. You groaned, turning to bury your face deeper into the soft bed covers. The thick blankets had been warmed overnight by your body heat and provided a cocoon of comfort, leaving you floating in a haze of bliss. You partially blamed the excess of sleep on the closed curtains which darkened the space considerably, but also on the late night of...fun you had with your boyfriend the evening before. You blushed recalling the memories of tangled limbs, your bodies moving in sweaty unison.

A shuffling movement beside you brought your attention to so-called boyfriend, as he adjusted himself, still asleep. His ribs were presented to you then, showing off an inked word. You brought your hand up quietly to lightly brush the letters, tracing the jagged beginning of an ‘n’, before ending at the rounded swoop of a ‘d’. The painted ‘nevermind’ was Jimin's reminder to be more forgiving of himself and to not let his mistakes suffocate him. It was his only tattoo, but that made it all the more special in your opinion. You were content to repeat your movements again when Jimin let out a low moan.

The heat that flared in your belly suddenly made you dizzy, igniting an intense want inside of you. However, the idea of rolling over to douse the growing flame of lust within was immediately put on hold due to the sharp pain of hunger that made itself known. You sighed quietly, before deciding it was time to get up and start the day, or what was left of it.

You sat up slowly and rubbed your eyes, before pulling on a pair of discarded boy shorts and after a thought, threw on a long-sleeved striped shirt. You inhaled deeply, reveling in the sweet yet musky scent of Jimin. You smiled in contentment as your feet made contact with the padding of the plush carpet, the cool temperature somewhat soothing the ache of arousal. You stretched languidly, your movements resembling that of a cat. You groaned lowly at the feeling of your bones cracking and tension melting away from your tired muscles. The rumbling of an empty stomach reminded you of your reasoning for venturing out of bed.

“Fine. Fine.” You mumbled, shuffling into the adjacent room, shivering at the cold tile of the kitchen floor. You wanted to cook something for your slumbering boyfriend and didn't want him awake and distracting you.

That's how we stayed up so late last night. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at how overeager Jimin could be. You loved him dearly that's for sure but sometimes you wanted a moment of peace to yourself.

You crept to the small kitchen in your shared apartment and stooped down to give the small white kitten, fondly named Lily, a quick pat. She purred immediately, loving the attention.

“Don't go making too much noise, Papa is asleep.” You instructed the animal, reaching into a cabinet to get down a cooking pan. Rose tilted her head curiously and rubbed against your leg, wanting more attention.

“Later baby.” You promised, rubbing her body once more to appease her. After placing the pan on the counter, you got out the other necessary tools and ingredients for omelets and turned on some mellow tunes before getting to work.

The soothing vocals of soft RnB filled the kitchen, your hips swaying to the beat. You did a full turn and almost dropped the eggs when you noticed a sleepy form gazing at you.

“Jimin!” You chastised, clutching your chest. You took in the sight of his wild bed head and bare chest and immediately forgave him. He was just too adorable.

Jimin rubbed his eye and looked you up and down.

“Is that my shirt?” He chuckled, his morning voice deep and soft. You blushed but placed a hand on your hip sassily.

“And if it is?” You asked, giving him a grin. Jimin smirked and took a step towards you, making you swallow. He bent down to your ear and his warm breath caused goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“It looks good on you..although it would look a lot better on the floor.” He whispered, his muscled arm caging you in against the counter. He ran a finger up your bare thigh, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Oh no. I know what that look means. You thought, thinking of an escape plan. Jimin pressed his body against yours, his head lowering.

“Jimin! Im making food you-.” You began but was cut off by Jimin taking your earlobe between his teeth. You swooned, your legs feeling weak suddenly. However, Jimin caught the back of your knees and lifted you onto the counter.

You gasped, your hands automatically going to his shoulders.

“C'mon baby..let's play for a little bit.” He whispered, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your exposed neck.

You began to pant, one hand moving to grip his black locks. You arched your back, pressing your body close to his. You really couldn't resist him if you were being honest. And you didn't mind in the slightest.

As Jimin reached the bottom of the shirt he got down on his knees and looked up at you with heated eyes. You swallowed loudly, breathing in heavily. If there was one thing in life you were certain about: there was nothing hotter than Park Jimin between your thighs. You rubbed your legs together, hoping to relieve the building arousal. Jimin seemed to take notice of this movement and smirked, before putting both of his hands on your knees. He spread them apart from each other never taking his eyes off of you.

You whined in irritation, distraught at the loss of friction.

“Somebody's excited.” Jimin chuckled, tilting his head to the side innocently, his fingers digging into your skin. You huffed loudly, clenching the back of Jimin’s neck, indicating to him that you weren’t fooled by his attempt to be coy. Jimin chuckled as his hands ventured upward, the rough pads of his fingers sending tingles up your spine.

You gripped the short hairs at the base of his neck, using them as an anchor. God this man will be the death of me. You thought, your eyes taking in the darkened gaze and thick lips of your boyfriend.

“Kiss me.” You commanded, biting your lip. Jimin raised a brow at this, tilting his face up.

“Oh, I plan to.” He gave you a wide smile, his eyes disappearing. You closed your eyes, lips pursed expectantly. However, you weren't ready for the feeling of a nose pressing against your clit.

“Ah-h!” You flailed, almost kicking Jimin in the process. This didn't slow him down in the slightest though. Taking the moment in stride he gripped the cheeks of your backside, tilting your hips closer to him. You moved to grip the edge of the counter, both thrilled and afraid.

“Jimin wha-,” you began but was quickly silenced as he buried his face into your crotch, inhaling deeply. The warmth of his breath caused you to pant, your underwear growing damper.

“You smell so good, baby..” Jimin accentuated this statement with a long lick up your middle, wetting the shorts you were wearing. You blushed, feeling a bit odd at this action but nonetheless turned on.

"And I know you taste good too..” Jimin wet his lips before rising up to his full height, the new angle causing you to fall back on the hard surface of the counter. You winced as your head connected with the laminate material, and you gave your smiling boyfriend a glare. He gave an apologetic kiss to your knee before hooking the v of your legs over his shoulders, his arms bulging. You scrambled for purchase on the slick countertop, but finding none, settled for grasping the top of Jimin’s waistband.

“J-Jimin.” You stuttered, looking up at him, sweat sticking your hair to your face. In your months together you two had done a lot of sexual things. But the kitchen was an area you had always been hesitant about exploring. The idea of food near bodily fluids really didn’t appeal to you. But something about the spontaneity of this moment was getting to you, and you found yourself not caring about how much cleaning you would have to do.

The new position of your pelvis seemed to aid Jimin in his ministrations, for he appeared pleased by how much more control he possessed. His hands wrapped around your knees, clutching them tightly in place.

“How nice of you to make breakfast for me.” He glided his mouth on the inside of your right leg, pausing every so often to suck bright red marks in his wake.

“Besides, you always know what I want to eat.”

The fabric of your shorts and underwear soon became a hindrance as Jimin ate you out feverishly. You begged him to take them off but he only sucked and nipped at the cloth, making them tighter and more uncomfortable for you. You threw your head back, digging your nails into Jimin's lower back, breathing in short gasps. You wanted his lips to meet your flesh, for you knew it would feel fantastic.

Your hands flew down to slap the counter beneath you after one particularly hard bite.

"Fuck!” You yelled, tears of frustration forming in the corners of your eyes. Why did Jimin always feel the need to be a tease? You jerked your hips, trying to get as much out of what he was giving you as possible. Jimin growled as your fingers began to scratch down his abs, and his hand ventured under your shirt in response. It tickled your skin, but before you could even think about laughing, you found your chest exposed to the cold air as your shirt was yanked up.

Your nipples hardened immediately and you gasped at the contrast in sensations.

"Jimin, ah-”

"Touch yourself for me.” He commanded, his voice husky. He lowered himself back down, his hands still holding your legs. His body heaved with the force of his heavy breathing, and you could see the outline of his arousal through his sweatpants.

“What?” You had heard him but were too distracted by the sight before you to obey him. He freed one of his hands and brought one up to flick a nipple and you saw white, scrambling to follow Jimin's wishes.

“Start playing with these or I won't make you come.” He threatened, soothing the abused bud with his thumb.

You started to caress and fondle your breasts, moaning at the feeling. You glanced down at Jimin to gauge his reaction and was pleased to see his full bottom lip pulled between his teeth aggressively.

“You’re such a good girl for me Y/N..I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

At this statement your soaked shorts were ever so slowly pulled down and off your hips, hitting the floor with an audible plop. You quickly tried closing your legs as the air assaulted your exposed genitalia, but your boyfriend was still between them, effectively stopping your attempt.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy now?” Jimin asked, giving you a once over. You were sure you looked quite the sight.

“Just-ngh! Touch me. Please. Touch me.” It really should have been embarrassing how much you were begging, but with Jimin you threw all caution to the wind, carefulness be damned.

He smiled then, all teeth. Predatory. He leaned away from your crotch, never breaking eye contact.

“I love it when you beg. It's so fucking cute.”

You let out a huff of air, irritated that you were being ignored when something thick and cold was shoved inside of you. Your back arched, your mouth opens in a silent scream. The ‘something’ became two and they scissored into your cavern, wet squelching noises following their motions. The fast pace had you thrashing violently so Jimin pressed his free arm across your stomach, holding you in place. Your legs were trembling, toes curling.

“Ohhh you're taking me in so well baby.” Jimin crooned lips on display in a pout.

Your hands had abandoned their attention on your chest, instead choosing to claw at the arm restraining you. Jimin winced, digging your nails out of him and moving your hand to his head.

“Hold on to this baby. It doesn't hurt.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You gripped the base of his neck as if your life depended on it, clinging to the dark strands of hair. His fingers resumed their brutal pace bringing you closer and closer to that rapturous edge. You bucked against him, riding his digits. He grunted, the exertion pushing beads of sweat down his forehead, sticking his hair in his eyes.

“J-im-min! I think, I think-”

“I know, I can tell you're close. Fuck, you look so good like this.” He growled, curving his fingers upward. You clenched your eyes tight, your body quaking. You were preparing to climax, as you scratched light cuts down Jimin’s shoulders.

That was when the awful stench of burning eggs hit your nose, ruining your euphoric high.

“Oh my god, our breakfast!” You yelled, shoving at Jimin until he got the hint to move. You jumper off of the counter, ignoring the wet feeling in your nether regions, and hurriedly took the now blackened pan off the stove.

“Dammit!” You cursed, moving your ruined meal to the trash. You pouted and sighed deeply, letting out a long groan. So much for yummy food. You thought sourly, barely noticing when your boyfriend came up and wrapped his hands around your midsection.

“Baby..forget it. We can eat out. My treat. But after I finish some business.” Jimin said, pulling you back to the bedroom.

“Business huh?” You asked, with a quirked brow.

Jimin only gave you a huge smile, his eyes twinkling playfully.

Written by Rose

#bts #bts one shot #bts smut #bangtan seonyeondan #park jimin #jimin x you #chim chim #smut #bts jimin fanfic #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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aggresivelyfriendly · 5 years

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A Premonition of Love-Chapter 10

Hi Babes! That week long hiatus did me good, I hope the wait was ok for you, lol. Here is the real chapter 10. It’s a special day, and in a moment I’ll share my SOTT memory as @emulateharry tagged me to! thank you so much for the beta, Char! Thank you @bleedinglove4h and @dirtystyles for everything, for a year!

Thank you to everyone still with us, we are nearing the end of our little happy story! Mwah- Enjoy!

Chapter 10-Isshokenmai

“God dammit!" Ada cursed under her breath and hoped Harry didn't hear it.

It's not exactly that the words would indicate he had won. He knew that she had been stressed, all caps, since they came back from Kyushu. He wanted to help her alleviate that stress in his very Harry ways. Solicitous and thoughtful, full of intent, his ways always were. Like he'd relieved her again and again while they were filming on the island location. But that was a different kind of pressure.

She may have been lightly stressed at the Onsen, but production went well, and Harry had her feeling very relaxed. Repeatedly. He'd been trying to recapture her languid openness since they got back to Tokyo.

It had been fleeting, situational and geographical.

She'd made it back to Tokyo and immediately started having trouble with her lighting union. Then there was a flu going through the catering peeps which was a nightmare. Ada delegated, but as the boss at the top, all of it wound up on her plate a some point, or at least the back of her mind.

It was all slowing them down, and now more that ever she felt like they could have a nouveau classic on their hands. However, the Elvis scene seemed intrinsic to that distinction. Ada had a rewrite to include it all ready to film. But they had to make up the time they'd lost to when Harry was more Babe Ruth than Ted Williams; some great takes, but lots of strikeouts to get to them. Now he was giving her frequent doubles and triples, occasional grand slams, on and off set. It was not enough though, they were still behind. The sickness and the Union issues where making her pissy.

Currently, Harry was in his scene, and he was doing well. He'd loaded the bases for sure, but she needed a triple so they could move on. When he was pressured he got anxious and she was too anxious to give him the feedback and patience he needed. She was a shitty base coach right now.

The first several scenes had homes smoothly, bits of dialogue laid flat and well. They'd been having trouble for the last hour though.

"Ada, Ms. Scott." Well, Harry hadn't called her that, in public, before. "Can we step off set and chat? I'm having trouble here." He gestured by the trailers and she sighed and got up, followed him to the more secluded area.

"What's up Harry? You're doing fine. Let's get it done." She was impatient and had one foot pointed toward where he stood politely, and one back to the scene they were working on.

"I know I'm doing fine." He gave her a look. "You aren't. You're vibrating, and not like last night from the lelo." She didn't laugh at his vibrator call back. "What's up Ada?" He put his hand on her shoulder, the only comforting touch she would accept, though maybe a step too far, on set.

"Nothing. I'm fine!" She asserted. He was quiet. She sighed. "I'm fine, really, it's alright. We just have so much to finish. And well, I'm sick of bitching about it. The only way out is through. So let's go get it done." She started to go and he caught her hand. "C'mon Harry." She shook him off. He was so sweet, that face, but not discreet. And they needed to be working.

"Smokes!" He dropped her hand and put both of his up. "Sorry! Ada, you're putting everybody on edge. You gotta calm down. Let's take a break. A couple hours. You can go for a run, or eat or....." he grinned at her. That would calm her ass right down.

"Styles?" She had one brow up and if she wasn't so beautiful the look could be called a snarl. "There is absolutely no way we have time for a two hour break. Half the kitchen is sick, which means my crew and cast are next and the union....." she kept talking, her tension about to boil over.

She could feel herself getting emotional. She wasn't a crier, not for sadness usually, but she did when she was really mad or frustrated. Hated when anybody saw, which of course made her more frustrated, and the tears would come out like diamonds from tectonic movements, slowly with great pressure. They had to get this scene and get it right now! She was just about to lash out when she watched Harry's head swivel around like a squirrel on the defense and then his mouth was on her.

God! He tasted...he tasted like mint, because he jawed at gum like he channeled all the insecurity he bottled up into his Wrigley strips. There was a piece of it in his mouth when he opened for her and she slipped her tongue to retrieve it. She forgot herself and her day and her place. He made her feel like that. Made her forget her early mornings, forget she would pay for late nights, was paying for late nights, forget that they were on a tight schedule and under a microscope from the studio. This whole thing was a gamble and she would gladly bet the house on his pony anytime he put some part of him on her, especially if that part was his mouth. He had her in his arms, and she nestled in for just a moment and burrowed her face into his neck and took a giant sniff to fill her nostrils with the smell that had come to linger in her bathroom.

She heard a noise and startled away from her boyfriend. Holy hell? Was Harry her boyfriend? Secret boyfriend? She looked up at him, and his brow was earnest and she almost smoothed it with her thumb before she heard a PA coming for them. Ada jumped back.

"We can't take a break, Harry." She nodded, assured herself that she was right. She was always right. He bit his lip and gave her something like agreement.

"Tonight - we need to get you relaxed though." He said and smiled at the runner as she walked by. The girl tittered and Ada had to smile. She had no idea. Ada was tittering inside, she just had a hard boiled public face.

"I don't know how to relax. Not until we are done. I want this to be so good, and I've become convinced it's the Elvis scene, you singing, that will single it out. We just..."

"So we do the scene. We will get there Ada, I promise."

"You can't promise that, Crybaby."

"Crybaby?" She saw he didn't know that movie, they'd have to change that. "I can promise that, I will give my best, which you know is very good." He smirked. "And then we will find the time, it's one scene."

"Um, no, we have to have a transition, not a hard cut; a flow into the scene. It kinda makes a whole new ending to the movie, but I think it could be the difference between this being another remake or rom com and being a beautiful homage. While being a piece that stands on its own, But the producers - I'm not sure who they think they are risking it all on, you or me - but they aren't budging. I don't think they are willing unless it's basically no consequence to them. Though Jocelyn had heart eyes on the Skype call - mmphf."

He pushed his mouth against her again. And she fell into it, again. This time, rather than flavor, all she could feel was the sensation of her lips yielding to his. When she was about to submit enough to count the surfaces of his tongue, she pulled out of the kiss. Their lips smacked wryly when she broke the suction.

"Are you going to make this a habit, the kissing to shut me up thing?"

She wasn't sure how she felt about it. Well, she loved kissing him, but him kissing her on set?

"Well, you get going and your anxiety just ratchets up. But when I kiss you," he gently ran a finger over her shoulder. "It stops the nerves and these come down." Then he quickly chucked her chin and sighed. "If it's just another movie, we will get praise for that, just not awards. And the feedback from the internet and 'them' will be scathing, but short lived. It will be alright. If we get the scene, amazing. Ada, we can make a good movie, maybe a great one, but only if you chill."

She watched him do that stare thing he did when he was connecting. It worked a charm. He might be a far. Did the Japanese have a version of that? The charm worked on her now, maybe not a month ago, but she took a big inhale and felt her tension leaking out. Not all of it, there was a definite set to her shoulder that she knew was going to stay until they wrapped, probably even through press if she couldn't realize her vision. But, he made it better

Harry felt a little out of his depth. Ada was both the cause of his recent bouts of anxiety and the cure. He assumed she could say something similar about him. Though maybe frustration over anxiety in her case. Whatever was making her wind up like a toy, unable to whirl joyously, was only adjacent to him. He was involved, but he was doing well, and they had made great progress. She was fixated on her new creative vision. Couldn't see the forest for newly developed trees. He could relate - he'd been there.

One day, Jeff Bhasker had to pull him out of the studio. He'd been plowing away at a fun song. Harry had been sure that the album needed a light moment, he was still convinced of that, years after the fact. Trouble was, Harry hadn't had much fun. He was creatively fulfillled and doing what he loved, but he hadn't performed, he hadn't gone out, he hadn't been to a show, and he hadn't fucked in a really long time.

He'd been creating, but not doing anything worth writing about.

Jeff had driven him to a liquor store, grabbed tequila and taken him to a beach. They'd drank and wound up swimming like dolphins. Then the next night Jeff, the original, had sent him on a date with a friend of Cam's Harry had fancied the picture of.

It was fun, and young, light. And it helped him. He wrote something that he loved that captured the possibility and a personality. He didn't see the girl again, but he was thankful, to her and good friends and inspiration. Ada needed that.

He watched her the rest of the day. She called cut a ton, and he watched her drink matcha like it was her job. By 3:30 she ordered herself a coffee.

Uh oh.

He had to give her a new focal point long enough for her main one to come into focus. But, really, much as he'd watched her, and apart from knowing how to take her apart in the bedroom, they were new. He might not know her well enough, yet. What would help her, best and fast.

He thought about Ada, went to his trailer and thought about her like a friend - not someone he was trying to woo. What would make her smile, despite her anxiety, despite herself? He thought about little things she'd mentioned, phone calls he accidentally eavesdropped, her music, and stuff on her walls from when they'd continued sharing personal pictures beyond embarrassing adolescent snapshots.

Ah! He knew, she'd made mention of her tactics a couple times, her relaxation ones. Then, if the platonic ones worked, he'd introduce his own technique.

Well, he'd implied those earlier, so they were guaranteed. They were tested and approved.

He checked with Jeff, got a vote of confidence, and headed back to the hotel room. They'd consolidated when they came back from Kyushu. They were only using one. His was slightly bigger, he'd l silently been smug. Harry had raised an eyebrow and her pupils touched the crown of her head in response. Her eye rolls were impressive.

He laughed. She laughed at him. He loved her throaty laugh. Her throaty voice. He was pretty sure he loved her. He'd certainly fallen, right into their possibilities. Maybe more.

Harry liked to spoil people. It drove his mom crazy when he did it with money. But she loved gestures, he'd gotten really good at gestures.

Time for a grand slam.

He felt completely ready by the time he expected her. Was bored and chilly an hour later, asleep when he heard the door go at 8:30.

He shook out of his sleep. Was glad he had that ability to sleep and wake on command. It served him as well on tour and filming Dunkirk as right now.

He swished his way over to the door, with the wine that was now very aerated and the room service menu. He had the kitchen on standby with her favorites cued. She just had to pick and he'd send the message, voila.

"Buenas tardes, Señorita!" Harry said brightly and checked his face in a reflective surface. His painted on mustache was still curled and unsmudged. "Welcome to Casa Surreal!"

"Are those my panties?" Ada interrupted his little speech.

"Well, right now they are mine. But I'm only borrowing them. I'll be sure to launder them before I give them back. Now come on Señorita, come in. We have and evening of entertainment before us!"

"Why are you speaking rudimentary Spanish?" She was smiling at his absurdity at least, he liked that. She reached forward and slipped her fingers beneath the suspenders he'd connected to the brightest thong of hers he could find.

Oh, he liked that.

"What's with the suspenders?" Ada snapped one and it hit his nipple and he was afraid they were gonna skip all his preparations and go straight to the main course or dessert. He was certainly feeling appetized.

"I thought they made the outfit!" He stepped back to show her his pink panties and black suspenders and the Calvin he thought of as his cowboy boots. "Don't you like them?" He liked the way her eyes climbed over him like he was a robust tree.

"Oh, I like them!" She raised an attractive brow after she glanced at his crotch in her inadequate lacy thong. "We both seem to like them! That what the get up is for?"

"No. Though I'm glad we both LIKE my outfit! Let's look at yours." he steered her along to the ensemble he had in the bedroom.

Half an hour later, he'd filled in her eyebrows and sat her at an easel and turned on the tv. Her wine was at her elbow. His was in his hand.

"Here's to creativity!" He saluted and she adjusted her flower crown and gave him a winged smile. He could see the Atlian weight had fallen off her scapula for a time.

"We're painting?" She had been trying to guess his plans for a while.

"Why yes Ms. Kahlo, we are painting!"

"I don't know how to paint. I wish I did. It was like a dream of mine at one point, actually. I feel like you've exposed one of my inadequacies here." He notes her fake laugh. "I started exploring other creative fields when I failed at painting. Those who can't, direct." He could tell she was talking in a happy voice but saying something sad. That was one of his favorite writing tricks. Heartbreak, but make it a bop.

Harry stopped setting up the Netflix to check her face. There were kernels of doubt he'd have to heat up so they popped and he could devour her insecurities with truth later. But not right now. She was still smiling. She was still with him, buying into his lost weekend mentality. Even if they only had a couple hours. He was going to provide a great distraction, and relax her very tightly wound self, so they could get the scene she wanted. He wanted.

They wanted.

"Well, luckily," he dimpled gleefully, then crossed his eyes to make her laugh, it came from so deep in her neck it warmed his belly. Her laugh he'd always call up, no matter their outcome and into their possible forever. "I've got us a teacher."

He hit play on the episode he liked best.

"Oh my god!" We're those tears in her voice? Shit, big misstep. But she didn't looked anguished. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Harry asked as he swished his way to the table top easel and sat as close as possible to her, in case these weren't tears of joy, while giving room for painting. He was wondering if he could paint her. Probably not. The show taught mountains and woods he thought.

"That I love Bob Ross! That's what I watch when I need to decompress!" She looked like she had found a treasure; he knew he had.

"Didn't." He shook his head. "I just, well, I thought you could laugh at me and we could do that painting and wine thing my mum loves together, but we can't go out, not really, not like, discreetly. So I figured I would make it fun here, and get really comfortable!" He raised his eyebrows to amuse her. Her painted unibrow danced while she chuckled. "And there is no one to teach us. But Jeffrey, a high strung individual if I've ever seen one, introduced me to Bob Ross. I turned up at his house and he was coming off a bad day watching this in his boxers. I took all the piss out of him. But, like, he was right, it's soothing. Thought he could teach us and chill us out."

"Yes, great plan." She kinda flounced. Ada didn't flounce. God he was charmed.

"I also have some edibles, but that was absolutely a last hope, because I'm fairly certain we will go to sleep much earlier than I'd like."

"Oh, yeah, no, no edibles for me, for us." She snapped his suspenders. "I wanna paint and then put these to use!" She made big eyes at him.

"Yeah, like what kind of use?" He leaned in to steal a kiss.

"Nope, not happening Styles." She shook her head and took up a paint brush. "I have some learning to do." She brushed black paint between his brows. A brow to match hers.

Harry felt his heart speed up and he got his brush ready. Caught her chin in his hand. A moment later he sighed, "Stop smiling! I can't paint your face like that!" He flashed his arms up.

Bob talked in the background, made happy little trees and happier accidents. But Harry and Ada's paint wound up more on each other. Ada complained she didn't learn anything new. Harry told her that was definitely not true from his trussed up position on a chair.

And by the end of the night, Harry's suspenders wound up around Ada's wrists too, bound at her low back with her bent over the couch end.

They both had inch and a half wide marks on their asses by morning too. Suspenders were inspiring.

It would have made Ada's director's chair much more uncomfortable, if she wasn't so damn relaxed!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #apol #a premonition of love #harry presley #chapter 10 #for real #issokenmai #bob ross #relax

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mint-yooxgi · 5 years

Text

Munsta House - Yandere!Monster!EXO X Reader

Yandere!AU/Crack!Fic - Based off of the Yandere!EXO X Reader Series

Genre: Crack, Mature, Horror, Angst, Humour

Pairing: EXO OT12 X Reader

Words: 5,145

Warning: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: This is basically a part two to You Can Call Me Munsta, so if you haven’t read that,I suggest doing so before you read this one! I have a few more planned in succession as well. I really hope you all enjoy this one, feedback is greatly appreciated!

A soft groan escapes your lips as you wake up with a splitting headache. Bringing your hand up, you rub at your temples, helping to relieve some of the ache you’re experiencing.

Sitting up in bed, you take in your surroundings, blinking a few times to clear your vision. At first, your eyes narrow at the somewhat unfamiliar room you find yourself in, until your eyes are widening in recognition and disbelief.

Flinging the covers off of your body, you race to the adjacent bathroom. Taking a quick look inside confirms it, and you watch your reflection in the mirror, face full of disbelief and slight anger. You’re back in the house you mysteriously woke up in a few weeks ago.

“What the actual fuck!” You exclaim, letting out a large puff of air as you walk back into the main area of the bedroom.

Not even ten seconds go by and the door is being flung open, Minseok rushing into the room followed by the pounding of feet from downstairs. Chanyeol appears in the room just as quickly as Minseok does.

“(Y/n)?” Chanyeol asks in surprise, not believing he’s seeing you with his own two eyes.

“Oh for fuck’s sakes, not again,” you sigh, just as the rest of the boys storm their way into the room.

“I thought you weren’t coming back?” Baekhyun comments, smug smirk residing on his face as he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Believe me, so did I,” you reply, mirroring his stance as your face remains impassive.

“Well, I for one, am glad to see you again,” Yixing smiles at you.

“I think we all all,” Kyungsoo says, receiving nods from the majority of them in the room.

You take this time to look over each one of them now, and notice how they seem calmer around each other. However, you can still sense tension between all of them, especially now that you’ve reappeared.

You think back to the last time you were in this mansion, and remember how it seemed to possess some sort of magical ability which gave you power over them. You wonder if that still holds true.

“Did I give any of you permission to be inside this room?” Your voice comes out stern, eyes narrowing as you look at them.

Immediately, Minseok is dragged out of the room by an imaginary force, and as he stands on the opposite side of the doorway, its as if an invisible barrier has formed which he cannot penetrate. At the same time, Chanyeol vanishes from your room, appearing a few seconds later beside Minseok in the hallway. Slowly, one by one, each boy is dragged out of the room by an invisible force, some willingly leaving before it can drag them out. Once they’re out, they cannot get back in.

“Looks like I still have some control in this house,” you smirk, moving to stand in front of the doorway where they’ve all been squished into the hall.

“How is this fair?” Jongdae pouts, pushing Baekhyun out of the way so he can stand in front of the doorway.

“You think what I had to go through with all of you was fair to me?” You counter. “News flash, nothing in life is fair.”

“(Y/n), please, we haven’t seen you in ages,” Junmyeon reasons. “Just let us spend time with you.”

“It’s been a few weeks, you’ll live,” you reply.

“Won’t you come out and talk with us?” Sehun asks, leaning up on his tiptoes to peer over a few heads to see you. He frowns at his current predicament.

“Why should I listen to any of you? You’re all fucking insane! Last time I was here, most of you were at each other’s throats, and now look at you. You’re probably getting along somewhat better now, who’s to say you won’t try and gang up on me. I know how you all think,” you spit.

“She does have a point,” Tao comments. “She’s good at figuring these things out.”

“She’ll have to come out of the room eventually,” Jongin smirks. “She still needs to eat, and last I checked, none of the rooms are stocked with food.”

As if to emphasize his point, your stomach growls, only causing his smirk to widen. You scowl in response. They wouldn’t really let you starve, would they?

“When she does, we’ll be waiting,” Rin nods.

“Well, good luck with that, because I don’t plan on ever leaving this room,” you say, walking over and slamming the door shut in their faces.

You rest your head on the back of the door, letting out a sigh in frustration. You can faintly hear them talking behind the door and arranging a schedule for them to watch and wait just outside the door incase you decide to do anything, like try and leave again. Luhan has the first watch.

Great. Just great. Out of the frying pan and into the fryer.

You thought you had escaped them. You thought you could put all this behind you and live a normal life once more, but no. You just had to magically end up back in this hellhole.

Letting out a sigh, you move over to the bed and sit on the edge.

Feeling your right hand hit something cool, you look down to see your phone resting on the mattress beside you. A large smile breaks out onto your face as you can’t believe your stroke of luck. Immediately, you call the police.

Except, it doesn’t dial through.

That’s strange, considering you have full bars of service and nothing should be impeding the call. Unless it’s the house. Your mind flashes back to when Baekhyun had tried making a few calls the first time you were here.

Deciding to try some other contact, you attempt to call your family and some friends, but you seem to encounter the same problem. Texting doesn’t seem to work either, for all your messages concerning where you are and the situation you’re in seem to magically disappear or don’t send. You even go so far as to post on social media, but you encounter the same problems you did when you tried texting.

A deep frown resides on your face as you try everything you can think of to use your phone to help you. Nothing works.

You start to believe your phone doesn’t work at all anymore, despite what the service provider is telling you. To test your theory, you text your closest friend a quick hello.

Within a few minutes, you get a casual response back; them asking how you are.

Immediately, you jump into explaining your situation, thinking that whatever happened when you first tried surely won’t happen again. You’re wrong.

With a sigh, you reply vaguely, and the message seems to go through this time. It seems you can use your phone for basic things to keep in touch with people and stay updated on social media, but as soon as you attempt to reach out to someone and explain the situation you’re in, or to get help, it no longer works properly.

Great. Just great.

You do everything you can to keep yourself occupied in the room, doing your best to come up with ways to escape this crazy mansion again. You could probably tell them to freeze and walk right out like the last time, but you’re a little worried it might not work for a second time. Jumping out the second story window seems a little counter productive as you could do more harm than good, and then you’d really be stuck here.

You manage to keep yourself busy and distracted for about three hours, until your stomach twists in hunger. You did wake up in the morning, and after not eating a full meal last night before you went to bed, you’re starting to regret not eating more. Your stomach growls.

Searching the entire room for the next half an hour only confirms Jongin’s previous statement of there being absolutely no food in the room. All you have is water from the bathroom, and you know if you don’t eat something soon, you’ll start to develop tremors in your hands and become lightheaded. You might possibly even faint, and who knows what could happen to you if that happened.

Pacing back and forth at the bottom of the bed, your hand rests at the bottom of your chin. You think of a strategy to get food without getting caught, but your chances of everything going smoothly are quite slim, especially with Minseok’s supernatural hearing.

One thing you do know for sure, there is some sort of magic in this house, and you seem to be the only one who can control it. You just hope it continues to listen and obey you, especially now.

Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself for what you’re about to do.

Opening the door slowly, you peer out into the hallway. Glancing to your right reveals Junmyeon sitting on a chair, leaning forward so that his arms are resting on his knees. His head is hung, but as soon as he hears the door creak, his head is flinging up to stare at you with wide eyes.

You mirror his surprised look for a second before bringing a finger to your lips to shush him. His mouth parts as he takes in your pleading expression, nodding slightly as his heart pangs in his chest seeing you like this.

You step out of your room, and immediately, he’s standing up from the chair. You look at him sharply, analyzing him to figure out his next move and make sure you can retreat into the safety of your room before he can do anything to you. To say what he does next surprises you, would be an understatement. Giving you a soft smile, he motions for you to follow him with his head.

He knows he should have alerted the others as soon as you opened your door, but seeing the look you gave him saddened him. The look of desperation filled with mild fear and surprise caused his heart to pang in his chest. He can’t let his best friend, the one he loves most, starve. Nor can he let the others take advantage of you. After all, he still wants to be the only one for you. Doing this might put him in good graces with you, too.

Since he’s been living in this house, Junmyeon has explored it top to bottom, finding all the secret nooks and crannies, as well as the best routes to take to get to wherever he wants to go. He leads you to the kitchen, checking to make sure the coast is clear before giving you the okay.

Letting out a small sigh, you walk into the kitchen.

“Well, that certainly didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” Jongin comments, leaning against a separate entranceway to the kitchen with his arms crossed. “What happened to never leaving the room?”

Your expression hardens as you look at him, noticing how Minseok and Chanyeol both appear seemingly out of nowhere as the others slowly trail in afterwards.

Closing your eyes as you take another deep breath for the nth time that day, you allow your features to relax. Opening your eyes once again, you keep your expression neutral as you observe them while they observe you.

“Fine. You want to talk? Let’s talk,” you state, leaning against the counter you’re closest to. “First, I’m going to eat something so I don’t pass out. Then, we can talk all you want. You give me space and respect my boundaries, then I might consider staying after everything I’ve been through. You don’t? I’ll have you turning on each other before you can take a step in my direction. You all claim to love me in some sick, twisted way. Prove it.”

You can see they’re all thinking over your words carefully, a few with scowls on their faces. Luhan is the first to break the silence.

“As you wish, princess,” with a slight bow, he’s leaving the room, leaving you in a state of pleasant surprise.

“Okay, fine, but I’m not leaving the room,” Jongin says, moving to sit at the table.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, moving over to look in the fridge to see what you can make yourself to eat.

You hear the scraping of chairs against the floor, and when you turn back around, you see Baekhyun, Minseok, Kyungsoo, Jongdae, Sehun, and Rin all sitting at the table with Jongin. The others seem to have left the room, respecting you enough to give you space.

A few minutes pass by with none of you saying anything, them just staring intently at you as you prepare your food. You let out a sigh, wiping your hands on a towel.

“If all you’re going to do is stare at me like I’m some science experiment, please leave,” you narrow your eyes at them, leaning one hand on the counter.

“We’re just happy to see you again,” Sehun replies, the others nodding slightly in agreement.

You say nothing in response as you finish preparing you food. Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, you being to exit the kitchen and make your way to the basement. Both Chanyeol and Luhan look up from their conversation on the couch as you pass by.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Minseok is in front of you in the next second, blocking your path and almost causing you to drop your food.

“Last time, if I remember correctly, there was a room in the basement that was fairly spacious with a bunch of chairs,” you remark, stepping around him. “If we’re going to talk, we’re talking there.”

“The door won’t open anymore, we’ve tried,” Jongdae tells you, only for you to shrug in response.

You continue to make your way downstairs, the others following close behind. Reaching the door to the room, you turn the handle and open the door wide, the lights automatically flicking on. Turning around with a smug look, you smirk at Jongdae. They all look at you in disbelief.

“Maybe you’re just not me,” turning around, you walk into the room.

“You’re right, nobody else can compare to you,” Baekhyun sighs, being the first one to walk into the room after you. The others follow, either nodding their agreement or glaring at Baekhyun.

Ignoring his statement, you notice the simple wooden chairs that were previously in the room have been upgraded to one large comfy chair for you and couches for them.

“Oh sweet, upgrades,” you comment, settling into the chair with your legs crossed. “Well, are you all going to stand there all day, or are you going to come join me? You wanted to talk.”

This seems to snap them out of whatever kind of daze they’re in, and they all move over to sit on the couches facing you. They all stare at you expectantly as you take your first bite of food. You raise an eyebrow at them, waiting for one of them to make the first move.

“How did you get here?” Yixing is the first to break the silence.

“Believe me, if I knew, I wouldn’t be here right now,” you reply, letting out yet another sigh as you take a sip of water.

“Then why haven’t you tried to escape yet?” Rin raises an eyebrow.

You simply shrug in response, “if I do manage to get out, who’s to say I won’t just end up back in the house again? I’d rather not waste my energy.”

“Does this mean you’re going to stay?” Sehun asks, hopefully.

“For the time being,” you respond, and you see the fire light behind all of their eyes. “However, we need to lay out some ground rules.”

“Anything, if it means you staying,” Chanyeol says, and your lips twitch upwards at his sincerity.

“First, like I said upstairs, you give me space and respect my boundaries,” you begin, placing your now empty plate on the ground beside the chair you’re in.

They all begin to protest, not wanting to leave you alone for any period of time. After all, they can’t bear to not be in your presence since you’ve came back. It’s been torture giving you your space thus far.

“Oh boy,” you throw your head back as they continue to protest, growing louder each second. “At this rate I’m going to need protection. You hear that house? Whatever magic you have, send me a protector.”

A bang sounds from one of the closed doors off to your right. Immediately, they all become quiet, their heads turning to look at the door with smoke coming out of it as it gets flung open. Everyone’s eyes are wide, including yours.

“Wow, I never thought that would work,” you say more to yourself, but they still manage to hear you, causing them to frown.

Through the smoke pouring into the room, a tall silhouette becomes outlined in light as a figure steps through the frame. Revealed to them is an unfamiliar girl with long brown hair which fades to blonde at the ends. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie and black skinny jeans. She waves the smoke away with her hand, looking displeased with the whole ordeal.

“Why the fuck is there so much smoke?” She says, shoving her hands back into the pocket of her hoodie.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jongin questions, standing up from his spot on the couch.

Before he can do anything, both Minseok and Chanyeol have moved to either side of the mysterious girl. She looks unimpressed as they attempt to intimidate her.

“Someone called for a protector, so here I am,” she replies, flicking her eyebrows in amusement.

“Okay, but just who are you, and how did you get into this house?” Tao asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m Jackie, and technically speaking, you’re in my house,” she quirks a brow, crossing her own arms now.

“Your house?” Your brow furrows.

“Before you ask, no, I was not the one who brought you back,” she sighs. “That remains a mystery even to me.”

“Then why do you keep us here?” Baekhyun frowns.

“You twelve? Do you really need an answer for that?” She smirks.

“I think I can answer that one,” you stand up, walking hesitantly over to where she’s standing, still being stared down by Chanyeol and Minseok. “To keep you all away from me.”

“Bingo,” her smirk widens as she dips her head in agreement.

“But then the question gets raised of how does she know about us,” Kyungsoo says, looking her over.

“Now that, is a funny story,” suddenly, she becomes tense, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, how do you know of our situations? Considering we’re all from different universes,” Luhan comments, the rest of them standing up now and making their way over to where she is standing.

“What are you, some kind of divine entity that can transcend space and time?” Jongdae scoffs in disbelief.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she shrugs, “but I suppose here I could be. Let’s see, how should I put this…” she takes this time to rest her hands on her hips, leaning onto one foot, “how do you think your universes all came to be?”

“So you are an entity of some sort?” Yixing’s brow furrows in confusion.

“No, no,” she shakes her head. “I did create you, so to say, but not in the way you might think. You see, I know everything there is to know about all of you because I wrote your stories, and your personalities.”

“You did what?” Your voice is heard as they all let the information sink in.

In the next moment, Minseok lunges at Jackie, but she simply sidesteps him.

“Typical,” she sighs, shaking her head while closing her eyes.

In the next second, her hand whips out and catches Jongin’s midair as he goes to strike her. She uses the momentum combined with her strength to flip him onto his back, successfully knocking the wind out of him.

“Don’t even try it,” she turns to look at Jongdae who has opened his mouth to use his powers on her. “You’re all too predictable. I know what you’re going to do before you do it.”

“You wrote them like this?” Your voice is heard again, your eyes wide in disbelief. “Why?”

She shrugs, “entertainment purposes.”

“You bitch!” In the next moment, you lunge at her, successfully knocking her over, as well as all the air out of her lungs.

In your rage, you manage to straddle her waist and wrap your hands around her throat. She watches you with wide eyes, and tries to pry your hands off her throat.

“You made me suffer through all of their… whatever you want to call it, for entertainment?” You screech. “How fucking dare you!”

“You might want to let me go,” she manages to choke out. “Before something happens that you all won’t like.”

“Oh yeah? What could be worse than this hellhole?” You spit.

A deep scraping sound can be heard from the room in which Jackie entered from, causing all of their heads to look in the direction of the open door.

“What the-“ Jongin’s voice is heard as something is seen moving out of the darkness.

You look back down at Jackie who is staring at you blankly, seemingly no longer affected by your hands around her throat.

“Just because I am a protector, doesn’t mean I don’t have ones of my own,” she says as a bang resounds from the doorway.

A gasp escapes your lips as you see none other than Pyramid Head from Silent Hill walk out of the door, dragging his large blade behind him.

Before he is able to take a swing at you, Junmyeon drags you off of Jackie’s body. In the next moment, Jackie snaps her finger and Pyramid Head disappears into thin air.

“How the fuck did you make a fictional character come to life?” Jongin stares in disbelief.

“Magic,” she says, standing up and brushing off her pants. “Now, I understand you being upset at me, but think about it,” she begins, watching as you remove yourself from Junmyeon’s hold, “there are plenty of ways I could have written the story, and you in particular. I wrote you with logic, not as some sissy who falls in love with the first man that gives you any kind of attention. Besides, who do you think gave you the magic to use in this house?”

“You mean you could have made her fall in love with us sooner?” Baekhyun scowls.

“Yep,” she confirms with a nod of her head. “Or made her fall for you at all for that matter. But hey, it could be worse, I could have added the ghost to this situation.”

“The ghost?” Tao echoes.

“Who- what’s that?” Sehun asks.

“Why don’t I let you all see for yourselves,” she snaps her fingers once more and another figure appears across the room.

“(Y/n)?” Jungkook’s voice is heard as he takes a step forwards in confusion, but he seems to run into an invisible wall. He begins to pound his fist on the wall, until he rests his palms against it, staring longingly at you from across the room.

“Yes, Jongin was the worst, but at least he didn’t go as far as actually killing you,” she comments.

“That bastard- that boy, did what?” Minseok’s anger spikes, eyes flashing red as a snarl rips out of his chest.

“Meet Jeon Jungkook, the ghost,” she gestures to him with her hand. “He invaded her dreams, one of which included a sex dream where he replaced himself with the man in the dream, and killed her in order to be with her.”

“I remember now,” your eyes widen, taking a step closer to where Jackie is standing.

“Hey, love,” Jackie calls to you, causing you to hum in response, and the boys to all scowl at the pet name, and how you responded to it. “You want to see something cool?”

You simply nod in response.

Jackie smirks, turning her harsh gaze towards Jungkook. Leading you in front of the twelve boys, she brings you face to face with Jungkook who is desperately trying to reach out to you.

“Tell me, how do you kill someone who’s already dead?” She asks rhetorically, smirk widening as Jungkook begins to clutch his head in pain.

“What the fuck!” Jongin exclaims, the others letting out gasps of their own as they witness the scene before them.

“Tell me, love, what would you have me do?” Jackie asks you, turning her gaze to look at your face.

“Make him feel what I felt,” you reply, emotionless.

Slinging an arm around your shoulder, Jackie turns her gaze back to the ghost who has fallen to his knees, “with pleasure.”

In the next moment, Jungkook clutches his chest, starting to hyperventilate. He lets out a pain filled cry as he feels his bones breaking and his heart stopping for the second time in his life. You watch this happen for another minute before Jackie snaps her fingers and Jungkook disappears into a cloud of smoke.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Baekhyun asks in fear as Jackie turns back around to face them with her arm still slung around your shoulders.

“How did you do that?” Kyungsoo looks at her with slight fear.

“I told you, you’re in my house now,” she grins maniacally. “Any one of you step out of line, or harm (Y/n), you’ll experience something just like that. That is, if you don’t tear each other apart first.”

“I don’t believe this,” Sehun huffs.

“Why don’t we just kill you and take (Y/n) for ourselves? You can’t hurt us if you’re dead,” Jongin moves into a fighting stance, some of the others mirroring his actions.

“Uh, yeah, did you not hear what I told you?” She rolls her eyes. “I created you, so if I die, you all die with me. Besides, you’re all too predictable. I know what you’re going to do before you do it.”

“That would have been nice to know beforehand,” you grumble. “Wish I knew that while I was going through what you put me through. Could have come in handy.”

“I get your slight resentment, but don’t worry, love, I’ll protect you now,” she squeezes your shoulders reassuringly.

“Stop calling her that,” Chanyeol growls.

“Get your filthy hands off of her,” Jongdae steps forward, face full of anger.

“I’m getting real tired of this shit,” Tao says, voice and expression dark.

“Ah, Z, so nice of you to join us,” she tilts her head back in slight mockery. “You’re not the only one I know with something else living inside him.”

“That’s it!” This time, Chanyeol is the first one to lunge at her.

All of them are getting sick and tired of seeing you being held in her arms, as well as her calling you ‘love’ all the time. They all want to dispose of her so they can have you all for themselves again.

Quickly dropping her arm from around your shoulder, Jackie pushes you behind her as she assumes a fighting stance. She manages to back you both up before Chanyeol can reach her, and right before Chanyeol can make contact with her, it’s as if the invisible wall which contained Jungkook has reappeared.

“What the-“ Chanyeol flinches back.

“Maybe I should get a sign,” Jackie chuckles. “Salt line, do not cross.”

Chanyeol scowls at your words.

“He may not be able to cross salt, but we can,” Jongdae says, stalking towards you, golden eyes on display. You can tell she’s really pissed him off.

“Oh no, I’ve pissed the fish off,” she fake gasps, causing you to stifle a giggle, which only adds to all their anger, especially Jongdae’s.

As soon as he crosses the threshold, Minseok takes this opportunity to strike while Jackie is distracted. Moving quickly, and using his speed, he goes to strike her side, but his arm is caught by someone, no, something black and slimy.

“Took you long enough,” she comments as the black sludge continues to grow out of the ground to form a giant, humanoid figure with pearl white eyelike slits and rows of razor sharp fangs.

“What is that thing?” Luhan gasps from across the room.

Hearing the unfamiliar voice, the being turns its head to look at Luhan, grinning widely as half of it’s face pulls back to reveal a man beneath.

“We, are Venom,” that being said, he flings Minseok across the room, causing him to go crashing into the wall.

“Really, big guy, don’t destroy my place, please,” Jackie sighs.

“Sorry,” he replies.

“It’s good to see you again, V,” Jackie smiles.

“How in the world is Venom here?” You ask in disbelief.

“Magic,” Jackie turns her smile towards you. “Like I said, I have protectors, too.”

“This is just great,” Jongin scoffs. “We’re all still stuck here, and now we can’t even get (Y/n) back.”

“Yeah, and I just got tossed like a rag doll across the room,” Minseok scowls, brushing some drywall dust off his shirt as he rejoins the group of them.

“Oh, cry me a river,” you snark, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“We like her,” Venom hums.

“Yeah, so does everyone else in this room,” Baekhyun comments.

Jackie rolls her eyes, “he’s not a psychopath about it, nor is he in love or obsessed with her.”

“He’s my favourite, at the moment,” you confirm, causing a few growls to be heard around the room, while the rest of them scowl. Yixing simply frowns, but it’s more of a pout than anything.

“Alright, I think they’re done trying to attack me for the time being,” Jackie observes as they all glare her down. “Okay big guy, can you let Eddie out now?”

No response is heard as Venom begins to shrink down and retreat to reveal Eddie in his place.

“That thing is inside you?” Tao gasps.

“Told you you weren’t the only one I knew like that,” Jackie smirks.

“How come he’s still here, anyways?” Rin quirks a brow at her.

“I like him, he’s funny,” Jackie says, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s good company to keep.”

“Aw, you’re going to make me cry from your sentiment,” Eddie teases, his own arm wrapping around her waist.

“So what’s going to happen now?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“I have an idea,” Jackie grins maniacally. “Anyone want to watch a movie?”

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