#She thinks about how in her mind things might affect him and chooses what she thinks is the option that wont hurt him. Though obviously | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellemj · 2 months

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I Hate You

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @kateversca1011: "y/n has these weird mind powers where she can feel others feelings or make others feel hers...she accidentally during a very heated fun time projects everything she is feeling to Bucky, basically doubling his pleasure"

Summary: After ending up on SHIELD's radar, you're moved into the tower against your will. Of course, you can't stand the one man that you have the most in common with.

Warnings: profanity, teasing, one bed trope, unprotected sex, hate sex, dirty talking, praise, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 9.3k

A/N: I fucking LOVED this prompt yet I feel like my (4th) attempt at it is as horseshit as the other attempts. This may get another attempt one day. Thank you @kateversca1011 for the wonderful prompt inspo, I hope this entertains you at least a little bit.

You have the worst luck in the world. In fact, your luck is so bad that you might even be able to call it a curse. It was one of those unfortunate things that started early in your life and has carried on throughout the years, affecting seemingly everything that you do. You thought it came to a head when your hometown was obliterated twelve years ago, when your parents were killed as they lay asleep in their bed across the house that you grew up in. You thought that was the pinnacle of your misfortune. Then, you thought that maybe it was two days after that, when you were sure you were being rescued from the rubble you laid under, only to be taken away by soldiers with unmatchable strength and brutality and stripped of not only your rights, but your dignity. You were held captive for so long that you stopped attributing your dark times to bad luck and started to think this was how life was supposed to be. By the time they started experimenting on you, you didn’t even feel bad for yourself anymore. You simply accepted it as the next era of your life that you had no control over.

“Okay, we’re all done.” Shuri’s voice rings out through the speaker in the MRI machine. The flat surface that you’ve been lying on for the past forty-five minutes begins to slide out of the narrow tube it held you in, slowly exposing the rest of the room to your view. You take a deep breath in, stretching your arms out in front of you and wiggling your legs a little. Your lower half always falls asleep when you have these scans done.

Shuri watches you intently through the glass of the MRI observation window. She watches as the nurse helps you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the tabletop. She watches as you run a hand through your hair and offer the nurse a kind smile before moving to stand on the floor. She watches as your eyes narrow in the slightest and a look of surprise crosses your face. She knows what you just did. She knows that the moment the nurse was in your personal space, you had no control over the unusual chemistry of your brain. You invaded the nurse’s mind and picked up on the fact that she’s afraid of you.

“She’s not ready to go free yet, is she?” Fury asks tersely. He entered the observation room so silently that Shuri didn’t even notice him until he spoke. As the nurse leads you out of the MRI room and begins taking you back to the main area of the medical bay, Shuri turns in her chair to face Fury.

“She doesn’t have enough control over her abilities yet. I think she’s still psychologically stable, the program you put her through did its job, but there’s no guarantee that she’ll simply go out into the world and behave.” Shuri chooses her words carefully. She doesn’t think that you’re a threat in your current state, but should you ever desire to be, you could easily become one. Your powers rival those of Wanda Maximoff’s, except even less is known about the extent of yours thus far. You’re the equivalent of the Winter Soldier without anyone having used his activation words yet, a ticking time bomb.

That’s what leads to Shuri and Fury both addressing you in the medical bay moments later. You sit on an exam table picking at a loose thread in your frayed jeans as they approach you, trying your hardest not to read into their thoughts, their feelings. You’d like to experience what it’s like to be surprised by what comes out of someone’s mouth for once.

“That was your last fMRI for a while.” Shuri says happily, her smile looking truly genuine. You smile back, but continue picking at the thread, not wanting to make any prolonged eye contact. Eye contact always seems to make it easier to read people, and easier for your own thoughts and emotions to spill over into their consciousness if you’re not careful.

“I’m guessing there isn’t all good news though, right? Since you’re both here this time.” You ask knowingly, your gaze darting between the two who stand before you. Shuri gives Fury a sideways glance, as if she’s waiting for him to take the lead. His eye narrows at you, his forehead scrunching up above his eyepatch as he studies you.

“We can’t let you go out and live your life just yet. There are too many unknowns right now. I’m going to be putting you up in the Avengers tower.”

“But—” Fury holds up his hand to silence you, as if you’re a backtalking teenager.

“It’s not permanent. This is just until we can help you gain more control over your abilities. We can reassess after. When you’re finished here, I’ll have someone waiting outside to take you over to the other side of the compound and show you around.” Fury’s gone before his words have even fully sunk in.

“He’s a straight-to-the-point kind of guy, isn’t he? No bullshit with him.” You say quietly, shaking your head as you come to terms with everything he’s just said. You’ve been staying in what you can only call a high-end holding cell at the nearby SHIELD base since the day you appeared on their radar and they brought you in, very much against your will. Another bout of bad luck, you’d told yourself, as you were restrained with some sort of technologically advanced handcuffs and later forcibly put through multiple rigorous evaluations. After the evaluations came the decompression and psychological rehabilitation that they had originally designed to be used for victims of capture and torture, agents who were in too deep and didn’t have backup when the worst happened. After that, you started undergoing medical testing, constant scans and blood draws, on a weekly basis. Shuri was brought in because no one else could figure you out.

“It’s the eye patch, he has to be short and gruff with people to fit the look.” Shuri jokes. She stands closer to you than most people would, within arms’ reach. You offer a light laugh and she considers it a small victory. “I think you’ll find that living in the tower, around other people with unique abilities, might actually help you. You’ll get a really nice room too, probably nicer than just about anywhere else you’d find in the city.”

“A nice room that I never get to leave.” You point out. Shuri’s gaze softens and she looks you over. Most people wouldn’t look at you and see a bomb that hasn’t yet been detonated. Hell, you could probably weaponize that fact if you wanted to, the fact that you look normal, innocent even.

“You can leave your room, but I think it’s best if you don’t get too close with anyone, physically or emotionally. Give yourself some time to learn boundaries when it comes to your abilities first.” Shuri advises. She notices the way you take in her entire appearance as she speaks, but you avoid looking into her eyes. You’re trying to give her mind the privacy it deserves. You’re making an effort to stay out of her thoughts, and to keep from projecting your own onto her. She thinks that you’ll get the hang of the control thing soon enough, and Fury will either free you to go about your new life or he’ll make an attempt to recruit you as an asset. Only time will tell which direction you’ll go, but she finds herself hoping that this won’t be the last she sees of you.

---

Bucky’s heard about the girl who reads minds, the girl who can make others feel her pain, the girl who could take away someone’s mental anguish with just one shared look. He’s heard enough about that girl that he formed his own mental image of her. He pictures her as an evil cartoon witch, with long, dark fingernails that curl up at the ends and a characteristic black and purple outfit, maybe even flying around on a broom. When he heard that this cartoon witch would be moving into the empty room across the hall from his, he imagined cardboard boxes filled with crystal balls, spiders, and cobwebs being dropped off before the girl’s arrival.

Bucky didn’t think for a second that you’d show up so quietly and uneventfully, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. He didn’t think you’d show up with nothing more than a small, government-issued duffel bag and a profound avoidance of eye contact. And he sure as hell didn’t think that you’d end up being so goddamn pretty. As you stood in the lobby of the tower with Maria Hill and two other SHIELD agents, Bucky was just getting back from a therapy session with Dr. Raynor. He saw you as you stood there with your duffel bag and blank stare aimed at a wall. He saw you as you made sure to board the elevator last, letting everyone else enter before you and then staying a few steps behind on your way in. You saw him as the doors began to slide shut. You caught one little glimpse of the man, dressed in dark jeans and a dark Henley tee. Unreasonably attractive. That was your first impression of him, as the doors closed and he disappeared from your sight.

An hour later, you’re sitting alone in your new room, carefully folding and putting away the few pieces of clothing you brought with you. Your wardrobe consists of a couple of pairs of jeans, a sweatshirt or two, and the same pair of sneakers you always wear. Or at least that’s what it consisted of until today. When you arrived to the room and finally had the chance to shut Maria and the other agents out and settle yourself in, you quickly realized that Tony Stark, or more his wife Pepper, had taken it upon their shoulders to have your closet filled with a wide range of pants, shorts, dresses, workout attire, and far too many shoes for someone with only two feet. You thought it was a mistake at first, that maybe you’d been given the wrong key to the wrong room. Until you saw a white envelope sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. It contained the only note you’d ever received from anyone, detailing how all of the items in the closet now belong to you, and were picked out by Pepper upon Tony’s request. As you stand in the closet now, running your fingers along the various fabrics and colors hanging in front of you, it feels as though every birthday that you missed out on celebrating after your parents’ deaths and your own capture are being celebrated in this moment.

---

Bucky sits in one of the briefing rooms with Sam and Torres, only half-listening to whatever they’re droning on about as he traces the golden crevices of his vibranium arm with his flesh index finger. He doesn’t chime in at all as the topic shifts from one of last week’s missions, to a piece of intel Torres intercepted yesterday, to the mission that could potentially be coming up at the end of this week. It isn’t until Torres brings up the girl that just moved in upstairs that Bucky’s flesh hand falters and his eyes flit up to take in the image that’s holographically displayed over the table in the center of the room.

“I gathered as much information on her as I could.” Torres says, as he begins flipping through a few different files on the display. He stops on one titled First Event. When he opens the electronic file, Bucky’s heart drops instantly at the words his brain sorts through and picks out. Terrorist attack. Intentional target. Orphaned. HYDRA. He swallows hard when the picture of your childhood home, completely reduced to smoking ash and rubble, appears before him. Another picture shows a small girl, seemingly around age eleven or twelve, covered in soot and dirt, with her hands bound in front of her as she’s being lifted and placed in the back of a truck. “She was taken by HYDRA operatives when she was 12. It was an operation with the sole aim of taking twenty children, disguising the entire thing as a brutal terrorist attack. The missing children were all presumed dead in the attacks, which was what HYDRA wanted. There was never an investigation for any of them.” A few pictures show a grimy prison-like holding cell, an operating room with different pieces of technology and equipment that definitely aren’t standard in normal medical facilities, and a few brain scans. “All of the twenty children underwent testing and experimentation. Some died within a couple of weeks, some within a couple of months. She was the only one to survive to be rescued. She lived in this underground HYDRA facility for at least ten years that we know of.”

“Ten years?” Sam asks incredulously, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “How did she end up on SHIELD’s radar?” Torres pauses his biography of the worst years of your life and opens up a different file on the display, one titled Second Event.

“Skipping the details of how she was rescued in the first place, she doesn’t have much control over her abilities. She tried to lay low, that much was obvious, but SHIELD has a program to seek people like her out, to keep an eye on them.” Torres explains. Bucky’s eyes are glued to an image of the girl he saw in the elevator only an hour ago. You’re at an outdoor farmer’s market, with a ballcap pulled low over your forehead and your gaze cast downward as you browse a fruit stand. The image is eerily similar to a moment of his own life that he remembers, buying plums at a Romanian market when he was trying to go unnoticed and live a quiet life on his own.

“So, she made a misstep somewhere along the way, becomes property of SHIELD, and then Fury sends her here.” Sam recaps, looking to Torres to make sure he’s got it all right.

“Pretty much, yeah. He doesn’t think it’s safe to let her be out in the real world on her own yet.”

“Not safe for her? Or not safe for everyone else?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow. Bucky turns his attention to Torres this time as well, curious about the answer.

“Both.”

A few more details are shared around the table as Torres flips back and forth between all of the available information that he has on you. Bucky, however, is deep in thought. He watches as new and old images flit back and forth on the screen, his mind digesting everything and piecing you together. You’re pretty, that’s for damn certain. You’re pretty and he can tell from your past, from your known abilities, that you’re likely good as hell at manipulating people. He imagines with your looks alone that you could get just about anyone to do just about anything for you. With your looks and your abilities? You could do more damage than most. You’re dangerous. Dangerous and unpredictable. And now you live across the hall from him.

Those two words repeat in Bucky’s head as he takes the stairs up to the main living floor later that same day. Dangerous and unpredictable. There are a few more words floating around in his head but he’s actively ignoring those. So goddamn pretty.

You really are pretty. You wouldn’t necessarily think so yourself, as you stand in front of the full-length mirror in your room, crossing your arms over your chest. FRIDAY’s voice rang out through a speaker somewhere in your room just a few minutes earlier, letting you know that dinner would be at six. Of course, FRIDAY didn’t offer you a dress code or even a very solid answer when you asked her what one should wear to such a dinner. The last time you had dinner with anyone, you were twelve and you were wearing a sparkly pink Barbie shirt. Though you could double check your closet for a shirt like that now, you have a feeling you won’t find one in your size. So, you remain in your distressed jeans and oversized gray SHIELD sweatshirt.

“Do you think she’ll show up?” Torres asks, mainly directing his question to Sam more than anyone else. Sam shrugs as he continues stirring the spaghetti sauce he’s been cooking on the stovetop.

“If she’s hungry she will.” He responds. Truthfully, he has no idea if you’ll come out of your room or not. If you don’t, he’ll take a bowl of food to your room at the very least, but he’d prefer it if you came out and interacted with everyone so he could at least get a feel for you. It was obvious by the way Bucky sat so narrow-eyed and steely in the briefing room earlier that he doesn’t like you, that he doesn’t trust you being in the tower. Sam hasn’t yet jumped to such a conclusion.

“What do we do if she does? If she shows up?” Torres almost sounds nervous. Sam chuckles before propping his wooden spoon on the edge of the saucepan and moving to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

“We eat dinner.”

---

You don’t look like a scared, vulnerable twelve-year-old girl, and you most definitely don’t look like someone who has the power to manipulate thoughts or feelings. As you sit at the table, twirling spaghetti noodles around your fork, you’re trying your best to ignore the eyes on you. You feel a bit relieved that it’s not the entire group staring, no, it’s just that one unreasonably attractive man with the black and gold prosthetic arm. He stares. He stares as if it’s the only thing he knows how to do. Honestly, maybe it really is the only thing he knows how to do, because he sure as hell hasn’t participated in any of the table small talk this evening.

“So, you were just laying low before SHIELD found you?” Torres asks kindly, tearing apart a piece of garlic bread with his hands as he peers over at you. He’s seated immediately to your right and has been the most inquisitive thus far.

“Yeah, clearly I wasn’t very good at that though.” You respond lightheartedly, earning you a few small laughs around the table. You lift your fork to your mouth and take a small bite of pasta. It’s heavenly honestly. It’s so much better than the measly three meals that you’ve taught yourself how to cook.

“How do you feel about ending up here?” Torres is a curious one, you’re quickly learning.

“I’m not over the moon about it but the food is better than what I was cooking for myself so, it’s not all bad.”

As you answer questions and do your best to avoid making too much eye contact with anyone, to avoid reading into anyone’s thoughts or dropping your own thoughts into anyone else’s mind, Bucky stares. He watches you intently. You’re effortlessly charming, answering everyone’s questions with a shy smile and kind voice. He’s sure it’s a façade.

Bucky’s cold stare and the fact that you happily pretend like you don’t feel his gaze on you is the reason why Sam, at the end of dinner, stands up and assigns the two of you to clean-up duty. If Bucky’s gone ahead and jumped to a conclusion about you based on a few flimsy pieces of intel and some grainy pictures, then Sam will give him the opportunity to confirm his suspicions with half an hour of alone time with you. Either he’ll come out of clean-up duty realizing he was wrong about you or he’ll come out of it with an earful for Sam.

Fifteen minutes after everyone’s finished eating and gone their separate ways for the evening, you find yourself wiping down the dinner table with a wet cloth. Bucky is watching you from the open concept kitchen, where he stands in dim lighting, scrubbing dishes at the sink.

“I can feel you staring.” You say evenly. Though your back is to him, you know his eyes are following your every move. He sets a soapy bowl down in the empty side of the sink and gets to work on another, still watching as you lean over the table and scrub over the wooden surface. He says nothing. Daring a glance over your shoulder at him, you catch sight of his blue eyes, cold and calculating as they stare right back at you. That’s the moment you feel it, a wall around him, around his mind. As you look into his eyes, you can’t get even the slightest reading on his feelings, on his thoughts. His mind is impenetrable.

You quickly look away and continue wiping down the surface of the table. What the hell was that? You’ve never been around anyone you couldn’t read before. Bucky sets another soapy dish into the right side of the sink and lets his gaze fall away from you for a moment. Did you look into his thoughts? Did you see what most people see when they look at him? A monster, an uncontrollable killer? He’s patiently waiting for you to flee, to run and lock yourself in your room after analyzing whatever you just saw in his mind. However, different thought is crossing your mind. You want to try again, to get closer to him and get a better sense of the wall you felt around him. You push a couple of chairs into their rightful places beneath the table and then look over at Bucky again as he works on the dishes. His blue eyes meet yours once more and there it is again, that wall. Before you lose your boldness, you begin walking toward the kitchen, your feet carrying you closer and closer until you’re only a foot away from Bucky’s right side. He acts uninterested and his focus remains on a dirty dish and a sponge in his hands. Your eyes dart down to the sink and you notice the clean, soapy dishes in the side closest to you. Before you realize what you’re doing, your left arm is brushing against his right arm as you start rinsing the dishes beneath a steady stream of hot water. Bucky tenses next to you the moment the sleeve of your sweatshirt brushes over the skin of his bicep.

“Are you scared of me?” You ask softly, keeping your eyes down on the suds that are running off of the bowl in your hand. You watch as they swirl around in the bottom of the sink before disappearing down the drain. Bucky scoffs and a low chuckle slips past his lips.

“Scared isn’t the word I’d use.” He says coldly, passing you another dish to rinse.

“Then why do you stare at me like that?” You question, matching his cold tone.

“Like what?”

“Like you think I’m going to try to get in your head.”

“Haven’t you done that already?” Another dish is passed over to you. The hot water is turning your hands pink, and the frustrating interaction with such an unreasonably attractive ass is turning your cheeks the same color.

“If I had, you would’ve known.” You point out, turning your head to look up at the side of his face. He doesn’t turn to meet your gaze at first, so you study his features. There’s a light stubble peppered along his lower face, over his jawline and chin. He looks young but something about him gives off more of an old soul vibe.

“You don’t have enough control over your abilities to be able to read someone without them knowing?” His tone has shifted from a cold one to a condescending one.

“I do, but I don’t care to put in any effort to hide it when I’m reading someone who already knows I can do it. I wouldn’t put in that kind of effort for you.” You retort. You’re unsure where exactly the animosity came from, but you feel it. It’s palpable in the air, the way the two of you already dislike each other. Bucky’s glad you’re returning the sentiment honestly. It’ll make it so much easier to ignore the fact that you’re fucking gorgeous. Gorgeous and pure poison.

---

The update Fury left his house at four in the morning for wasn’t at all the update he was expecting. When his assistant called and told him that there was a new development with the girl he put up in the tower, the girl that HYDRA had experimented on and practically raised with the goal of having her become weapon of mass psychological destruction, he expected to hear that you’d done something apprehensible. Maybe you’d turned the other occupants of the tower against each other and caused a modern-day civil war, maybe you’d figured out a way to level the tower entirely, he had no idea. It wasn’t until five minutes ago when he finally slid into his office chair and viewed the new intel that he felt a bit of relief, and yet a new kind of stress. HYDRA wants you back.

---

No one stays in the tower on the weekends. Sam heads off to see family, Wanda and Vision jet away for weekend stays seemingly anywhere but here, and even Torres has plans. You assume Bucky is gone too, considering you haven’t heard anyone else around since you last saw Sam leaving at sunset.

As you sit comfortably on the couch in the living area, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks, you feel almost at home for once. You’re flipping through the various movie options on Netflix when you hear the elevator ding and the doors begin sliding open. You freeze with your thumb hovering over the remote in your hand as your eyes slowly drift to the left. Bucky Barnes. Of course he doesn’t have any weekend plans. Why would he? The man is practically insufferable anytime he opens his mouth. He shoots you an uninterested look as he steps into the living area and starts pulling his leather jacket off.

Fuck. He’s the one freezing in place when his gaze floats down to your lap and he notices the skin of your thighs. He tosses his leather jacket onto the opposite side of the couch and narrows his eyes at you before moving toward the kitchen for a bottle of water.

“You don’t have pants?” He asks, his disdain for you evident in his tone.

“I was held in captivity for over a decade, what are pants?” He hates when you’re sarcastic.

“Fine, no pants. But you have a TV in your room, don’t you?” He wants you locked away in there where he won’t even have the chance to let his eyes betray the rest of him.

“Are you going to be here all weekend?” You turn your body so you can see him over the back of the couch. You lock eyes with him as he takes a gulp from his water bottle. He notices the way your gaze drifts downward, focusing on his lips for a brief moment before trailing even further down to the tight shirt he’s wearing.

“Yep.” He puts emphasis on the ‘p’ at the end of the small, simple word.

“Do you like movies?” An olive branch, you’re extending an olive branch. If you’re stuck with him as your only company for the next 48 hours, you sure as hell aren’t going to make it easy for him to hate you. Why make yourself any more miserable? In the event that it does that opposite and makes him hate you even more, you’ll still feel like you won.

Your question caught Bucky off guard. You turn to face the TV once again and he watches as you use the remote to rifle through a category titled Action Movies.

“I prefer books.” He says flatly.

“If you can get over yourself for two hours, you could watch something with me. It’s up to you.”

You didn’t expect him to go for it, in fact, you don’t even know if you actually wanted him to. At first, you thought he rejected the offer. He scooped his leather jacket up off of the couch, shot you an unreadable sideways glance, and disappeared into his room, locking the door behind him. You’ve just decided on a movie when Bucky reappears, wearing black sweats and stupidly, only his dog tags adorning his chest. When he comes into view, your eyes immediately wander, taking in the entirety of his build. Fuck. How does someone who acts like such an ass end up looking like such a god? Bucky notices the way your gaze settles just above his waistband and he can’t stop the smirk that takes over his features.

“You don’t have a shirt?” You ask, mimicking his tone from earlier.

“I was held in captivity for decades, what is a shirt?” He didn’t quite mean to let you in on his past, but there it is. You sit before him stunned, your widened eyes dropping down to look over his vibranium arm with a new understanding. “You really haven’t been in my mind, have you?” You shake your head, still unsure of what to say to him. Bucky solves the issue at hand by taking a few more steps forward and sinking into the couch one cushion away from you. “What are we watching?”

---

Shit goes sideways really fast in your life. You were only half an hour into the movie when the power suddenly went out and the dim emergency lights in the hallway kicked on. You and Bucky froze and looked at each other with a mix of confusion and anticipation, both of you feeling that something was off. It was less than a second later when Bucky heard the commotion in the elevator shaft and he knew exactly what was coming. He was on top of you in an instant, forcing your back down on the couch before rolling the both of you off and onto the floor. He managed a second roll once you landed on top of him on the hardwood, making sure that when the movement stopped, you were securely underneath him and his body was shielding yours. You watched his face as he seemed to move on autopilot, reaching up to the coffee table and breaking a glass vase with one hand before using the shards of glass to deter the two men rappelling in through the now blown-in elevator doors. It all happened so fast, seeming to begin and end in all under 10 seconds, before Bucky was shoving you down the hallway toward the emergency stairwell.

He led you down four flights before pulling you through another metal door, into yet another dimly lit hallway. When you were both safely tucked away in a briefing room, he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his sweats and called Sam, setting it on speaker and placing the device on the table in the center of the room. Now you stand still, frozen, unsure of why you feel almost nothing. No fear, no concern, nothing. You simply feel like you have no control over anything and there’s nothing you can do to help or hurt the current situation. When Bucky grabs your wrist and pulls you toward the table, lifting you by your hips to sit you on top of it, you don’t resist.

“Are you okay?” He asks hurriedly, scanning your entire body with his eyes as his hands cup your cheeks and tilt your head from side to side. He’s looking for any sign of injury, but there’s nothing. “Say something.”

“Bucky? What’s going on?” Sam’s voice rings out from the phone on the table, snapping you out of whatever silent haze you were in.

“The tower’s been breached, we need to get out of here, now.” Bucky responds tersely. He still holds your face in his hands. You blink a few times, coming back to your senses, before looking up into his eyes. Relief. You see relief soaking into his features as he realizes you’re fine. “You’re okay?” He needs to hear you say it. You nod slowly, his palms brushing over your cheeks as you do.

“I’m good, I’m okay.” You whisper.

“Can you get down to the garage?” Sam questions. You can hear the sounds of him typing through the phone, probably sending out an alert to everyone he can.

“We’ll figure out a way to.” Bucky assures him.

“I’ll send you an address for a safehouse, you take her there and you stay put. Let me know when you get into a car. Fury says a strike team is already on the way.”

So much for living in the tower being the way to keep you safe.

---

You wouldn’t have expected such a broad, muscular guy to be so stealthy. Bucky got the two of you down to the garage and into a car in what you imagine was record-breaking time. It truly would’ve been a feat if he’d managed to get back upstairs and grab you some pants or himself a shirt as well, but you can see how that wasn’t really an option.

You sit in the passenger seat now, using his phone to text Sam and let him know that you made it out safe and are on the way to the address he sent. It’s quiet in the car for a couple of minutes, the only sounds being the tires against the road and a light rain coming down on the windshield as Bucky speeds down a dark highway. You set his phone in a cupholder by the gearshift before placing your hands on your still bare thighs. In this moment, you wish you could read into Bucky’s thoughts. What’s going on in his head? Does he have any idea who those men might’ve been? What they might’ve been there for? You don’t want to come across as conceited or self-centered but you’re pretty damn sure they were there for you, most likely on behalf of HYDRA. Maybe if you could read into his thoughts, he’d have a different suspicion and it would ease your growing anxiety.

“Is that the first time the tower’s ever been breached?” Your voice comes out too soft, too meek for your own liking. Bucky lets out a deep breath before relaxing in the driver’s seat. He wanted to hear your voice more than he realized.

“As far as I know, yeah.” He says with a nod, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. That isn’t quite what you wanted to hear. Maybe something along the lines of oh no, it happened a hundred times before you moved in would’ve made you feel better. Bucky doesn’t like the quiet that takes over the car after he gives you his answer. It feels tense, and not your typical can’t-stand-each-other kind of tense. “There are a million different reasons they could’ve been there.” He knows what you’re thinking, that they were more than likely there for you.

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better.” Your voice isn’t so soft anymore.

“You think they were there for you.”

“It makes the most sense, HYDRA has never really been known to let shit go.”

“I know.” He says it so emotionlessly but the way the realization settles on your shoulders is anything but. You feel what can only be described as a fist wrapping around your heart and squeezing it. He knows. He knows about HYDRA, he knows how they operate. He knows because he’s been through their shit, probably even more intensely than you.

“I don’t have any pants.” You mumble, pushing away the heavy topic of the most heinous organization that you know to exist. Bucky chuckles under his breath as he steers the car around a curve. He finds you annoyingly likable for someone he’s intent on hating.

When you pull up to the safehouse forty-five minutes later, you’re more than relieved to see that though it’s a very small cabin on the outskirts of a national park, there are two bedrooms. After checking in with Sam on the phone, you leave Bucky in the living room while you wander down the short hallway, trying to decide which bedroom you’ll be calling your own tonight.

“Did you take me off of speaker?” Sam asks Bucky in a hushed tone, praying you’re out of earshot. Bucky sinks into the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose with the index finger and thumb of his vibranium hand.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“She was the target tonight. HYDRA wants her back. They don’t want her dead, they want her back.”

“And you didn’t want to say this to her?” Bucky asks in a whisper.

“She probably has PTSD from what they did to her all of those years, there’s no sense in upsetting her if we don’t have to yet. For now, as long as she’s safe with you, we don’t have to tell her.” Sam explains quickly. Bucky can hear the din of an airport coming through the phone speaker. Sam’s trying his best to get back to New York on short notice, which tells Bucky it’s definitely serious.

“She already has her suspicions.” Bucky points out. He glances over his shoulder and down the hall, just as you’re stepping out of one bedroom and into the next.

“Just…don’t let her out of your sight. At all.”

Bucky stays seated on the couch for a few seconds after hanging up the call with Sam. His mind is speed running through the various outcomes of this whole situation. There’s a chance HYDRA already knows about the safehouse and they’re planning to hit it sometime tonight. There’s a chance HYDRA doesn’t know shit about where the two of you are right now and you’re safe at least while you’re here. There’s a chance you get pissed at Bucky and climb out a window in the middle of the night. Fuck. How did he end up being the one here with you?

You’re rummaging through a dresser in the largest bedroom at the back of the cabin when Bucky taps his knuckles on the already open door and steps in. You’re on your knees, digging through the bottom drawer, with your hair falling forward and obscuring your face from him. His eyes follow every move you make as you tuck the hair behind your ear and glance over at him.

“Is this where you’re sleeping?” He asks, tilting his head in the direction of the queen-sized bed. You follow his gaze, taking in the thin blue quilt and sad, flat looking pillows. You nod slowly.

“Yeah.” You respond, pushing the drawer shut and rising to your feet. You were looking for an extra pair of pants but the dresser only seemed to hold various extra blankets, sheets, and towels. Bucky nods, his eyes drifting back to the bed as if he’s deep in thought. When he tosses his phone onto the bed, you narrow your eyes at him. “I said I’m taking this one.”

“We both are.” He says defiantly, taking a step further into the room before closing the bedroom door behind him. He fishes the car keys out of his pocket and drops them on top of the dresser before heading for the bed.

“What the hell does that mean? There are two rooms, two beds. There isn’t a chance in hell we’re sleeping together.” You cross your arms over your chest, shaking your head aggressively. You watch him as he starts pulling the covers back on the far side of the bed.

“You just told me that you think those men were there for you. If you’re right, those guys were able to breach the equivalent of a maximum-security prison on steroids. And you want to sleep alone? In a room with a window?” He questions you as if he doesn’t already know that those men were most definitely there for you. He sees hesitation in your eyes, and he knows he’s got you there. You crave safety, security. You won’t fight him very hard on this and he knows it.

“I’m not wearing any pants.” As soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, you’re aware that you sound like a damn kid. A whiny kid.

“I’ll give you my pants if you shut up about it already.” Bucky promises. He stands next to the bed, with his hands firmly on his hips, waiting to see what your next move will be.

“Fine, give me your pants and I’ll suffer through the night.”

“In this bed?” He gestures toward it with his vibranium hand. You nod. “Say it.”

“In this bed.” You agree, with every bit of a bad attitude brimming your tone.

It’s not long after that that you find yourself wearing another man’s baggy sweats as you lay mere inches away from him. He’s close enough that you can feel his body heat warming the space beneath the covers, but not so close that there’s a threat of bodily contact.

Bucky’s wide awake beside you. He’s watching in the darkness as the quilt over your side rises up and then drops down again with every inhale and exhale. He usually has trouble sleeping, but knowing exactly who’s after you and what they’re capable of is giving him even more trouble.

“Are you still awake?” You whisper almost inaudibly. You’re facing away from Bucky so you didn’t notice the way he’s been staring at your back, watching you breathe.

“Yeah.” You’re silent for quite a few seconds after his response, but he knows your mind is working overtime. “What?”

“Nothing, I was just wondering.” Another minute of silence goes by before you roll onto your back and heave a deep sigh. Bucky waits patiently. He counts the seconds as they go by. One. Two. Three. Four. F— “If you weren’t there tonight—”

“Don’t think about that.” He warns. His eyes coast over the side of your face. He can see the worry, the stress playing on your features.

“But if you weren’t, I would’ve ended right back where I was.” You voice trembles in the slightest, and you hope he doesn’t notice it. He notices. Bucky’s fists clench beneath the bedsheets.

“You don’t even know if it was them, or if they were after you.” You roll over to face him now and he can see the tears gathering in your eyes, glinting in the moonlight from the window.

“I know.” You say assuredly, without a trace of doubt behind your words. Bucky knows he can’t lie to you, he can’t convince you that you didn’t nearly end up back in HYDRA’s clutches tonight. He can’t lie to you, and he won’t.

“Do you feel safe right now? Here?” He asks, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard it before. You search his face before answering with a small nod. “Focus on that. Don’t work yourself up over what could’ve happened. Just rest tonight and we’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“I’m already worked up, I can’t sleep.”

“I gave you my pants for you to lie here all night and not sleep?” He asks jokingly. You move your leg under the covers and kick his shin lightly. When you start to pull your leg back to your side of the bed, something stops you.

“Do you want them back?” You offer. Bucky raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of where you’re going with this. It’s as if the playfulness of the moment is erasing the fear and stress in your mind, so you go with it. “I’ll give them back.”

“So, all of that complaining about not having pants was what? An attempt to get me out of mine?” Bucky teases. He props his head up on one hand over his pillow, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.

“You gave in pretty easily, didn’t you? I think you wanted to take them off.” You retort, nudging his leg with yours again. Bucky licks his bottom lip as he gauges the tension growing between the two of you. Is this what you do to help you fall asleep? To test the waters, he places a hand right above the knee of the leg you keep nudging him with. It’s as if his touch sets off an electric spark, you feel it dancing from your knee all the way up to your chest and then right back down. The feeling settles between your legs.

“I was doing you a favor.” He rasps, rubbing light circles on your leg with his thumb. “And I was trying to shut you up.” Silence is becoming familiar between the two of you. You look at him for a long moment, mesmerized by the way his thumb is circling against the fabric of the sweats that he gave you. You find yourself staring first into his eyes, and then at his lips. You’d ask yourself what the hell you’re thinking but, let’s be honest: you’re not thinking.

“Would you do me one more favor?”

“What’s that?” Bucky asks as his hand inches a bit further up your thigh.

“Shut me up.”

---

There are a thousand reasons Bucky can think of to not be doing exactly what he’s doing right now. A thousand reasons to not be sucking on your bottom lip and grinding his erection against your clothed cunt. Maybe even a thousand and one reasons not to be absolutely fucking loving every second of it. But every filthy little moan and whimper that graces his ears only spurs him on. He’s doing you a favor, right?

“This isn’t really shutting you up.” You can feel his smirk against the skin of your neck as he slows the movement of his hips and begins grinding against you at a tortuously useless pace. “Maybe we should try it with the sweats out of the way, see if that shuts you up.”

“Yeah, that’s an idea.” The words come out breathlessly. You place your hands against Bucky’s shoulders and push him off of you. He returns to his side of the bed, trying to calm himself down as you lay beside him and shimmy out of his sweats. As far as he knows, that’s all you’re taking off. But in a moment of boldness, you decided to speed things up a bit and take your panties off with them. When you glance over and see him lying on his back, with the moonlight highlighting the sweat that glistens over the ridges of his abs, all you can think about is him. Being on him, being under him, you need him. He looks back at you with a daring look and you’re sold, you’re straddling his hips, hovering right over his boxers in an instant.

Bucky’s breath hitches in his throat when his flesh palm lands against your hip, just beneath the fabric of your t-shirt, and he only feels skin. Where’s the waistband of your panties? You see the surprise on his face as he grips your hips tighter, keeping you from sitting down and fulling straddling him.

“I thought I said try it with the sweats out of the way.” He tsks playfully. You have no idea how badly he wants to rip his boxers off and plunge his cock so deep inside you that you scream.

“Oops, I must’ve misheard you.” Your mischievous smile makes his cock harden that last little bit, and he can feel the way his balls begin aching to be emptied. He fucking hates you for making him feel this way.

“I should’ve known that being a good girl and listening wasn’t going to be your thing.” He says with a shake of his head. You’re about to say something else teasing and sarcastic when Bucky’s fingers dig into your hips sharply, surely leaving bruises, and he forces you to sit down across the hard shaft of his cock. Your wet cunt instantly soaks the fabric of his boxers and within two seconds, he can feel how wet you really are for him. For him. He hates you. He hates you. He hates you. He has to remind himself repeatedly as you begin circling your hips, because he fears he’s quickly forgetting that fact. You grind down with a little more pressure and he can feel a bead of precum slipping down the head of his cock. A soft groan slips out of him and he starts pushing your t-shirt up higher and higher until he’s pulling it over your head. The pale moonlight is just enough to let him see your bare chest and again, he’s chanting in his head. He hates you. He’s just doing this to make you feel better, to get your mind off of the HYDRA shit so you can sleep tonight. That’s all it is, right? A favor. As you lean down and start kissing and sucking on the skin of his neck, he feels your fingertips slowly dragging his boxers down by the waistband. He hates you.

At some point, Bucky helped you get his boxers all the way down his legs and he kicked them off and away until they were lost beneath the mess of sheets and blankets atop the bed. When your hand fisted around his cock the first time, he rutted into your hand without meaning to. It was like instinct. You wrapped your fist around him a little tighter and pressed your lips against his in a desperate kiss as he thrusted into your hand a second time, letting his precum wet your palm and then using it as lube. You would’ve been satisfied letting him fuck your hand, honestly. You probably could’ve orgasmed just from that experience alone, but you didn’t need him knowing you were that easy for him. That’s what got you to where you are now,

“I hate you.” You lie straight through your teeth as you drag your cunt back and forth along the length of his cock. Every time the head of it rubs against your clit, Bucky can feel your thighs tremble on either side of him and he’s fighting the urge to bend you over the bed and ruin you.

“I hate you too.” He lies right back. When you look into each other’s eyes, you both know there isn’t much truth coming from either of your mouths. “Sit on my cock.”

Never have you ever been one to listen when a man tells you what to do, until this moment, with Bucky Barnes. He watches as you position the head of his cock just right at your entrance. You’d think a man would want to watch as his entire length disappears inside of you, but no. Bucky looks up at your face as soon as the tip notches inside you. He watches with heavy breaths and groans falling from his lips as your mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ shape and your eyes scrunch closed at the way your walls stretch to fit him in.

“That’s it, don’t stop until you take it all.” Filthy. He’s fucking filthy. And you listen to every word he says, sinking down until you feel his balls pressing firmly against your ass. “Shit.” When he finally tears his eyes away from your face and gets a look at where you’re so deeply connected, he can’t fucking stand it. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. “You have to move.” He groans, slipping his flesh hand further back from your hip to grab your ass.

“I can’t.” You whimper, leaning forward and bracing your hands on the mattress, on either side of his head.

“Move or get off of my cock.” You’d almost be offended if you didn’t know that he’s saying that because he’s close to blowing his load in you too early. You can feel the way his balls are tightening against your ass and you know he’s desperate. So, you try. You lift yourself up one single inch, and then slide back down. Then two inches, then back down. You repeat it over and over slowly, building up a rhythm as your own pleasure begins to grow. “Fuck, maybe you’re a good listener after all.”

“Stop talking.” You moan out, picking up the pace. You’re fully fucking his cock now, your bodies making obscene sounds as skin slaps against skin repeatedly. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, hate me a little more and see what that gets you.” He taunts, squeezing your ass with both hands and using his grasp there to help guide the up and down movement of your hips. You’re close and truthfully, you don’t even want to tell him.

The trouble really starts when he moves his flesh hand to your lower stomach and presses his thumb against your clit, offering a delicious friction there as you ride his dick. The increase in pleasure makes it even harder to think straight. You’re not thinking straight in the slightest when you move your hands to his chest, not paying attention to the fact that you have one hand over his heart.

“I’m close.” You whimper, earning you another squeeze of your ass with his vibranium hand and a bit more pressure against your clit. Your eyes are shut tightly as you focus on the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls and the tip of it nearing your cervix with every snap of your hips.

When you open your eyes and look down at him, his blue eyes flit up to meet yours and that’s when you realize the mistake you’ve made. He starts rubbing circles against your clit the moment your eyes meet, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes in like a tidal wave, sweeping and relentless. With your hands on Bucky’s bare chest and your eyes locked, you lose the last shred of control you have, the last morsel of control over your abilities slips from your grasp. He feels it. Bucky feels every bit of pleasure that’s coursing through your body, he feels every thought in your mind, he hears your inner voice screaming for him. In the heat of the moment, you pour every sensation that you’re feeling straight into Bucky’s nervous system.

He can’t even speak as his orgasm hits ten times harder than it ever has before. He knows it’s coming from the eye contact and your hand on his chest, he can feel the uncharacteristic coolness beneath your palm that rests over his heart. It’s why he clamps his own hand over yours on his chest and uses his vibranium arm to wrap around your back and pull you down against him. As Bucky’s cum paints your walls, filling you so full that it starts dripping down his shaft, he can’t stop thrusting up into you. He can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop.

“Bucky, I’m…” You suck in a deep breath as you collapse on his chest, though he keeps your hand anchored over his heart. “I’m full, I can’t…” He shushes you as he continues pushing his cock up into your pussy. He slows but doesn’t stop.

“Don’t move.” He’s begging. Though his tone doesn’t sound like it, he’s fully aware that that’s what he’s doing. You haven’t fully caught your breath yet, but a soft laugh leaves your lips.

“Move or get off of my cock.” You repeat his earlier words playfully.

“I hate you.”

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @sadeyes61 @aka-tua-braindump @immortalfangirl

#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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chloe-skywalker · 9 months

Text

What Does She Know? - Aegon II Targaryen

Aegon II x Fem!Reader

Warnings: G.O.T

Word count: 943

Summary: Alicent may love to put her children down, but Y/n won’t stand for it to affect her betrothed anymore.

Authors Note: I really do think if he had someone who really loved and cared about him he’d be SO different! Same for Aemond.

Masterlist

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Why do you behave like this?” Alicent scoffed in disgust at her son. She was angered and annoyed at Aegon’s behaviors, no matter what it may be.

“Behave like what?” Aegon questioned with squinted eyes. He had completely closed in on himself, expecting the usual if not new degrading comments she always told him. Sure he was use to it, it's been happening all his life but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“A monster. A little boy desperate for attention that believes since he’s a prince he can do whatever he wants without any consequences.” Alicent sneered at her son. She despised her and Viserys' children. They all seemed to have the confidence and arrogance of the Targaryens. Nothing in them reminded her of the Hightowers.

Aegon did not answer her after that. He just looked down trying not to let his emotions show in her presence. Aegon was done with showing weakness in front of her.

“Pathetic.” She spat before turning around and leaving Aegon’s chambers she had practically barged into.

A few moments later, after hearing the door slam Y/n peeked her head out of the hidden passageway she had rushed to when they heard Alicent outside his door. “Aegon?”

When she didn’t get a reply Y/n came out and walked towards where Aegon was seated on the end of his bed. She had heard everything the so called Queen had said to Aegon and Y/n was fuming on the inside. How dare she treat and say things like that to him. Her own son and a prince.

“She’s right, you know. I’m a monster.” Aegon mumbled looking down to his lap feeling immensely insecure since his mothers rant.

Y/n immediately shook her head, not agreeing with his statement at all. “No you are not. You are not a monster.”

“That's not what my mother says.” He spoke in a whisper.

“And what does she know? Rhaenyra was her best friend and look how she treats her? Look how she treats you and your siblings? She doesn’t know anything. Definitely nothing good or correct.” Y/n exclaimed lifting his chin to look at her as she talked, but Y/n knew it was because he was listening but the negative thoughts were still in his mind.

“I don’t understand why she take it out on us? On me?” He questioned out loud not to anyone in particular.

Since their betrothal Y/n had seen the toxic environment in King's Landing, in the castle. Between the Hightowers and the Targaryens. Including between Alicent and her own children.

“Because she’s upset that she had to marry your father. But you know what, she should grow up and act like a lady. Like a queen. That’s the way life is for a woman. Especially a woman born with any type of title. We don’t get to choose who we marry, or how many kids we have. Nothing. You just are forced to grin and bare it but the least she could do is protect and care for her children. Be supportive to her so-called friend that she had to marry the father of.” Y/n ranted but she had a point. To everything she said, it was all very true. Aegon listened intently to what Y/n had said and it pained him. In the short time they had known each other Aegon had really grown to love the woman in front of him. And to hear how she as a woman had no say in anything, that really hurt him to think that might be how she thinks their relationship is going to be once they marry. Aegon reached out to hold her hands.

“Is that how you feel with me? With our arranged marriage? That you have no choice and that all you’ll be good for is having my children?” Aegon asked question after question. He truly hoped he could make her feel like his equal. “Cause that's not how I want our relationship to be. I want to be good enough for you. That you want me even if we are already arranged and have no real say. I want us to fall in love with one another and not spite each other. I don’t want to force you to have a ton of heirs just so we can please the court and the people. I don’t want to please anyone other than you.”

Y/n was stunned by his words, not having thought he was worrying about such things.

Y/n squeezed his hands and then let one go and reached up to cup the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. Looking into his eyes when she spoke. “Aegon. You have been an exception to what I said. You have treated me very kindly since we’ve gotten to know one another and I greatly appreciate that you seek out my advice. That you care about my opinion on things, that you don’t want to force me into anything or let anyone hurt me. That you actually care about me and I’m not just some slave your meant to fake love and breed with. I want to please you as well Aegon. But the difference is for us it’s because we love each other, truly love each other. That we want to please each other. Not out of duty.”

Aegon shook his head, feeling a weight lifted off his chest. “It will never be out of duty.”

Aegon pulled Y/n onto his lap into a kiss he hoped betrayed the love he felt for her and appreciation for her believing in him.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

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nightqueen1221 · 1 year

Note

hi!! can i ask for hanako, kou, tsukasa, nene, teru, and sakura reacting to y/n who bops their head like they're listening to music when they're happy? like there could be dead silence and then we have y/n bopping their head happily. and if its not too much to ask can it be a gn y/n? im so sorry for the long ask <//3 if u dont wanna take this request thats fine! love ur work :D! - 🐝

Hello my first emoji ayon! Apologies for this being late. This was also the only image I could find with all of them.

Hanako/Amane Yugi

-He finds it cute.

-Honestly, he really likes it since he can tease about it later.

-Every once in a while he'll float over to you and lift the headphones out or lightly tug on your earbuds to pull them out.

-"Whatchu listening to?" He asks.

-He's not really looking for answer, he just wants your attention.

-If you close your eyes while listening, he'll go in for a kiss just to see your surprised face.

-If you wear earbuds he'll ask if you can share.

-If you're ok with it, he gives comments about the music you listen to.

Nene Yashiro

-Honestly, she doesn't really judge you since she's just so happy she actully got a relationship, so when she sees you listening to music and bopping your head, she doesn't mind.

-She might every once in a while ask what song it is.

-If she knows the song she'll either talk about it or fawn over the band members/singer.

-You introduced her to a lot of diffrent types of music along with new bands and singers.

-Every once in a while she gets a sticky notes and writes songs she likes so you can listen to them. (Along with a few doodles in the corner.)

Kou Minamoto

-He's concerned.

-He thinks you're going to hit your head or something else since your not really paying attention to your surroundings.

-He usually has a hand wrapped around your waist just to make sure your safe.

-If you offer to listen to music with him, he'll accept. Perhaps you could dance together.

-I don't think he'd be a very good dancer so you might have to teach him if you know.

-If neither of you know, well you can just look like two idiots having fun.

-When you two dance im the school (if ever) Hanako is going to intervene. He'll probably trip Kou so he'll fall on you making him look like a pervert. And nobody else can see Hanako so they Kou is in the wrong.

-Hanako truly doesn't mean any harm by it, he's just trying to poke some fun.

-As long as you tell Kou he doesn't need to worry about you and you can handle your surroundings, he's a lot more comfortable.

Teru Minamoto

-Same thing with his brother, he worries you're going to get hurt and tries to avoid anything happening to you.

-He always had a ton of fangirls and the fact he choose means you matter to him more than you could imagine. (Same thing with his fans if you know what I mean.)

-He might even go as far as taking you things away if you don't listen to him.

-Don't worry, just give him puppy dog eyes and he'll give in faster than the speed of sound.

-Or cry, if you can cry on command good lord. He HATES to see a person he cares for in pain, so he'll do almost anything to make it stop.

-If you walk around while listening to music, he's right behind you with his hands on your shoulders to make sure you're safe. This does not change if your eyes are open.

-And if you do happen to have someone bump into you, are they going to have an earful from your boyfriend.

-So, just be careful around him and when you listen to music.

Sakura Nanamie

-It doesn't bother her in the slightest.

-She enjoys the stillness of sound, she's usually caught up with Tsukasa being loud, so just being in the same room as you, but not talking makes her enjoy these times together.

-She knows your not paying attention so she sometimes go up behind you and give a little kiss on your cheek. (Or on the lips depending on how far the relationship has gone.)

-When she wants your attention for either a question or because she simply wants affection, she'll lightly tap your shoulder or rub the back of your hand.

-She ALWAYS asks if you can give her attention beforehand, since she is very much aware of what it's like for someone to be forced into it.

-This also makes it very rare for her to ask for anything, but I'm getting off track.

-It's not a huge part of her life but she still thinks it kinda cute you do it

Tsukasa Yugi

-All he can think is, "Perfect opportunity".

-You're distracted AND can't hear him. He wants to prank or surprise you as much as possible. Having your attention on something else other than him (Which he is a bit offended by) Gives him the chance to shock you.

-At this point, it's not as surprising. The most shocking part is what he tries and do to gain your focus.

-He's given you things he's killed, which the offer is nice, the corpse is not.

-He'll incessantly bother you asking if he can listen to music with you.

-If you refuse, he'll do one of three things.

- 1. Continue to cry and complain

- 2. Take whatever you're listening to music on.

- 3. Get Sakura involved. Which ends up with your device getting confiscated.

-As fun as it is to mess with you, he gets super annoyed if you ignore him completely. And that leads to one of the items above.

-Just as long as you devote your time to mostly him, he's fine with whatever else you do.

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sanguine-prince · 27 days

Text

i’m sure i’m not the first to say something like this, but let me tell you about my poc-passing-as-white jay gatsby headcanon!!

for some background, in the 1920s there was an interesting shift regarding (white) skin tones. previously, tans were viewed as a sign that a person worked out in the fields, and therefore a trademark of the lower class. however, slowly after the industrial revolution, it increasingly became a representation of luxury, since the rich upper class would have the time to lounge about and sunbathe at their leisure.

i say all this to show that a poc gatsby would have the ostensible class and wealth for a tan, which would ‘excuse’ a slightly browner skin tone in the public eye.

(the 20s was also the setting of passing by nella larsen, so that’s neat.)

in my vision, he’s biracial (maybe his mother was black & his father was a german immigrant) with skin light enough to pass for white.

the fact that nick states that gatsby keeps his hair neatly groomed and cut might be to prevent it from curling up.

additionally, i think it could contrast tom’s white supremacy & his fear of poc social progress.

it would also create a deeper divide between gatsby and daisy, and once again the contrast between him and tom. in my mind, daisy wouldn’t know about it until the point where tom reveals everything about gatsby’s bootlegging etc. with jay revealing it to her in the car ride back (oops then she hits myrtle).

then, when she chooses tom and the life of comfort, wealth, status, etc that their marriage offers, she also rejects not only gatsby’s new money but also his race.

it’s a lot more thematically significant for the american dream as well—it’s still unattainable and essentially tainted by capitalism, and it also emphasizes that it’s restricted to the white upper class. social mobility only becomes available to gatsby when he disguises his racial identity.

similarly, it fits with gatsby’s identity reconstruction—the quintessential american is white, rich, and educated.

daisy and tom have that ticket into society because they have that inherent thing that he will never have—pedigree, in both class and race. that’s something that even nick has.

(in my mind, he tells nick all about it the night before he dies & nick understands as best he can and doesn’t think less of him, because it further highlights the differences between his & gatsby’s relationship v. gatsby’s relationship with daisy; namely, the transparency -> acceptance give-and-take that he and daisy never had. because of having to hide himself from daisy in order to maintain her affection, he builds an expectation that he must be someone that he is not as well as developing a transactional definition of love (he gives, and people love him as long as he can continue to give) in order to be loved. therefore, nick’s immediate curiosity and fascination with who he truly is is foreign to him. not to get too into their dynamic lmao i just think it’s really interesting.)

finally, the very last part where nick is sitting and looking at the bay and thinking about the first immigrants and their dreams and how gatsby embodied the purity and naivety of those dreams is further exemplified by his racial ‘otherness.’

and there’s,,, technically nothing in the book to explicitly refute this from what i remember!

(n.b.: it has been a hot second since i’ve read tgg, so lmk if i’ve got anything wrong!)

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olenvasynyt · 8 days

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I don’t listen to Taylor Swift but here’s my analysis of Guilty As Sin? being Elucien coded

I am not saying SJM posting this song on her story is a sign that Elucien is endgame or that Elain’s book is next, this is just my interpretation of a song and it is not based in fact! I also don’t know TS lore or her dating history, I only know about the football guy, and Matty Healy because I’m ex-The 1975 fan

Drownin' in the Blue Nile He sent me "Downtown Lights" I hadn't heard it in a while

Downtown Lights by The Blue Nile is one of Matty Healy’s favorite songs and a verse from that song is this:

“Sometimes I walk away When all I really wanna do Is love and hold you right There is just one thing I can say Nobody loves you this way It’s alright��

If I were to relate this to ACOTAR, this is reminiscent of the stairs moment when Lucien is leaving to find Vassa and an army and we can see this longing and affection for Elain but he walks away. Sometimes I walk away when all I really wanna do it love and hold you right. I think we are going to see her POV of that moment and I feel like it is going to be very prevalent in Elain’s book because Elain takes a half-step. What does that half step mean?

My boredom's bone-deep This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of crackin' locks

This could be about how Elain is being kept in a box in the Night Court, about how she might have been trying to love it before but she wants to get out, it’s not the right place for her. She does not fit in the Night Court, we see this when she wears black and it sucks the life out of her.

Crashin' into him tonight, he's a paradox I'm seeing visions Am I bad or mad or wise?

Elain sees visions. And people also suspect that she could be seeing visions of Lucien.

What if he's written "Mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind?

Mine is a song by The 1975 and this song is about commitment and questioning what’s right and having this assurance that love is right.

Looking back on 2009 When people said that it was raining all the time I see sunshine 'cause I know that you are mine

“No, we saw rain, you guys weren’t right for each other, but he still sees sunshine, because I know that you are mine.” This also reminds me of when Lucien says in his head “I am yours and you are mine”.

I'm slippin', fallin' back into the hedge maze Oh, what a way to die

This could be about Elain struggling to navigate her thoughts and the visions she is probably still having but pushing down. She might be better at controlling them but her control is slipping.

I keep recalling things we never did Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trips Without ever touchin' his skin How can I be guilty as sin? I keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault

Again, as I and many people talked about before, Elain could be having feelings of attraction and affection towards Lucien, her mate, but she is shoving it down.

We've already done it in my head, if it's make-believe Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

People often headcanon that Elain is having sexual feelings and maybe even sexual visions of Lucien.

And the vow is the vow of accepting the mating bond and she feels guilty of that.

My bed sheets are ablaze I've screamed his name Buildin' up like waves crashin' over my grave Without ever touchin' his skin How can I be guilty as sin?

Again, we get this idea that Elain could be having attraction towards Lucien. And we got fire imagery too!

What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly I choose you and me religiously

It’s people saying “you guys are wrong for each other. You are wrong, you guys don’t fit together”. We see this with Feyre questioning why her and Lucien are mates, Nesta yelling at Lucien, saying “we’ll decide what she needs”. A lot of people don’t think Elucien are right for each other but Elain could be thinking “we are right” but she is too influenced by other people’s opinions that she doubts herself. “But what if she chooses him? What if she rolls the stone away, officially bringing to life the feelings she could have for Lucien?

They don’t know how you have been haunting me so stunningly I choose you and me religiously

Lucien has been haunting her, and Elain decides to choose him.

#elucien #pro elucien #acotar #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

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therealcocoshady · 1 month

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Recovery - Chapter 33

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Reader finally moves to Detroit with Marshall and gets used to living with him and getting to know him even better. She is on cloud nine... Until she learns she's going to meet someone special.

Tags : Fluff - Smut - Bit of angst

Author's Note : I hope you enjoy the chapter ❤️

Y/N’s POV

After you finally landed in Detroit, you spent almost two days sleeping, trying to fight the jetlag. Marshall seemed to be dealing with it pretty well, probably because he was so used to traveling. You, on the other hand, were really suffering from it and it wasn’t only affecting your sleep schedule, on the rare occasions you were awake, you also had trouble focusing, which did not help you get reacquainted with the house. You didn’t think you would have much trouble settling in, since you had spent so much time there before moving back to Paris, but actually moving in with your boyfriend was a bit different : you had to learn where everything was located and you got familiar with Marshall’s quirky ways, like how he organized the pantry and his weird tidying up habits, that were really different from yours. Also, you hadn’t really thought about the fact that you might feel ill-at-ease in the house, but it was definitely the case. Your boyfriend was incredibly welcoming and made a point of saying that it was your house too, but it didn’t feel like it. Every piece of furniture reminded you of the fact that he had lived there for about twenty years and had lived a full life in it before you were in the picture. You weren’t jealous per se, but it felt weird, like you were starting from scratch and he was already on level 20. So far, the corner you managed to claim as yours was the bedroom, probably because you spent so much time sleeping and fighting off jet lag. On the third day, though, you managed to wake up at a decent time and found Marshall training in the home gym. The sight of him bare chested and all sweaty doing some push ups was definitely a nice way to start your day.

Hey sleeping beauty, he said as he got up to kiss you. Didn’t expect to see you awake until a couple of hours at least.

I think I’m starting to run on american time again, you giggled. You know, if I had known I’d see this in the morning, I would have fought the jet lag harder…

Just got back to it today, he chuckled. Gotta start training back, after all that pasta in Italy. You don’t want me to get all chubby, now, do you ?

I wouldn’t mind, you said as you ran your hand over his stomach. The more of you the better.

How about you help me shower ? He asked with a smirk. You’ll get to see more of me.

Are you really propositioning me this early in the morning, Marshall ?

Haven’t seen much of you for three days, you know, he chuckled.

Now I wonder how you managed for six months, you giggled.

Not going to lie, it was hard. Pun intended. Are you coming or what ?

Actually, your man having his way with you in every room and against every single piece of furniture did a great job helping you feel at home in the house. In the following days, you spent a lot of time doing each other but not getting much else done. After a while, though, you decided to finally unpack the few things you had taken with you. To be fair, it wouldn’t take too long and your things would not take much space either, seeing as you only had the bare essentials. You might as well start a blog on minimalism, at this rate. At least, you wouldn’t spend too much time choosing what to wear, your options being somewhat limited.

Last chance to reconsider this whole me moving in thing, you said playfully as you opened your suitcase.

Not a chance, he chuckled before kissing your cheek.

Do you think you can spare a drawer in your closet for my stuff ? You asked.

No need, he shrugged. You can have a whole closet. The house came with his and hers.

Fancy, you giggled. Although, I would have thought your centipede ass would have taken over the second one for your sneakers…

I did, he chuckled. But I freed up the space the day after we arrived, while you were sleeping like a baby.

You’re the best. Although we can definitely share the space, I literally only need a drawer, you said as you pointed to your suitcase.

I guess you’re going to have to shop, he said with a smile.

I will, when I have a job, you said.

Why wait ? He asked.

Money, you shrugged.

He rolled his eyes and handed you his credit card. You looked at him without taking it, waiting for him to put it back in his pocket. He stared back, not moving. It was like a silent argument. He had told you before that he was intent on taking care of you in every way possible, but you had your pride and there was no way in hell that you would shop with his hard earned money. You were already moving into his giant house, coming back from an expensive holiday in Europe that he had paid for, wearing a watch and a bracelet that, combined, probably cost more than what you had made in the past year.

Just take it, he finally said.

Put that back, you said. I can wait.

You barely have enough clothes to go through a washing cycle, he pointed out.

I’ll just borrow yours, then, you playfully retorted. Or walk around naked. But I am not taking advantage of your money.

I kind of like the idea of having you walk around the house naked, he replied with a smirk. And you know I love it when you wear my stuff. But seriously, you don’t have to be so noble. It’s no big deal.

I’m not a kept woman. And there is no way I will act like a trophy girlfriend and have you pay for my stuff. All of this is already too much, you said as you gestured around you.

Technically, it would benefit me too, you know ? He pointed out. I like undressing you. Let’s not underestimate the importance of wrapping paper around the present…

And what would the ideal wrapping paper look like ? You asked.

Lingerie, obviously, he giggled. I like the lacy stuff. Can I confess something ?

Go ahead, you chuckled.

You know, the black lace bodysuit you wore in the picture that leaked last year ? He asked. It drove me absolutely crazy. I deleted the picture, out of respect for you, but I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been in a few dreams of mine.

Oh really ? You asked playfully. Too bad I don’t have it anymore.

You have no idea what I would do to you if I saw you wear this thing, he said.

I’ll put it on my list, then, you said with a wink.

Or you could buy it right now, he said as he waved his card in front of your face. As a congratulation present for the album’s success ? Or early Christmas ? And let’s not forget that Thanksgiving is just around the corner, so, really…

You couldn’t help but giggle. He reminded you of a kid asking their parents for a new video game. He was making puppy eyes at you, batting his eyelashes and whispering “please, please, please ?”. You rolled your eyes and ended up caving in. “Fine, you said. Only lingerie, though.”, you mumbled. Without a second of hesitation, he grabbed your iPad. For someone who often played dumb when it came to technology, he was incredibly proficient. In a couple of seconds, he had ten tabs open on various lingerie websites. He had a fancy taste in lingerie and definitely had a lot of ideas on what he would like you to wear, leading you to think he had given it some thought for a while. What initially started in a search for one lacy black bodysuit ended up in Marshall adding tons of things to the cart because “shipping is an ecological disaster so you might as well make the most of it”. At some point, you were sure that there were less items in a full Victoria’s Secret fashion show and you hoped for his sake that he had invested in Agent Provocateur, because the bill was going up insanely fast, with each click. He seemed like a kid in a candy store and was absolutely unstoppable.

Babe, I don’t think I need a bodychain that looks like a butterfly, you pointed out with a giggle.

I like accessories, he chuckled.

They do have beautiful things, you admitted. Like, those rose gold rope handcuffs…

You’re into that ? He asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

No, you said shyly. I mean, yes, but… well…

No need to blush, he said. I’m adding these to the cart. Just in case… Oh, look, they have a matching choker.

When you thought you were done, once the order was placed, he started arguing that you would need at least one pair of heels to go with it, just to complete the look and you didn’t even have time to answer before he started browsing Louboutin’s website. At that point, trying to reason with him was a lost cause. Plus, if you were honest, he did have good taste.

You realize you just spent the equivalent of the gross domestic product of some countries, simply on stuff you want to ravish me in, right ? You pointed out.

As a businessman, I’d say it’s an investment, he said with a smirk.

As a rational person, I’m tempted to ask how this little investment would bring some actual profit, you giggled.

That’s actually really simple, he said. That’s an investment in our relationship, which is important to my work-life balance, hence my creativity.

Almost a fair point, you conceded.

Plus, I think I could base a whole album on your body and all the things I’m doing to you once we receive that package, he chuckled. So if it goes well, it might pay for our next vacation…

I swear to God, Marshall, if I hear one reference to our sex life in a song…

One ? He said with a grin. Babe, it’ll be at least four or five…

I’m serious, you said sternly.

We’ll see, he replied with a wink.

You thoroughly enjoyed having Marshall with you while you got used to the house. It was a far cry from your fancy holidays in Europe. Of course, discovering cities, eating at restaurants and staying at luxury hotels was nice, but this felt more real, more domestic. You also liked the fact that, in spite of his obvious wealth, the house had an actual family feel to it, far from what a lot of real people showcased on Instagram or Architectural Digest videos. The place was actually lived in, filled with memories and it had a nice vibe to it. Most people probably wouldn’t expect one of the world’s most famous rappers to live in a place like this, but once you got to know Marshall, it sort of made sense. The house was secluded and located in a gated community - for obvious reasons - and it was impressive in size, for sure, but it wasn’t flashy by any means. The furniture was all about quality but unassuming, with a nice cozy feel to it, with comfortable chairs and sofas, as well as spaces designed to have people over and entertain. The perfect nook for someone who actually spent a lot of time at home. You had never thought you’d live in such a place but you were happy you ended up here. Not that it mattered too much anyway, since you were sure you could be happy anywhere as long as you had Marshall by your side. After a few days, it was time for your boyfriend to go back to work and you’d be left alone in the house for the first time. The night before, as you were laying in bed, the two of you were talking about his upcoming projects. Now that he was no longer in album recording mode, it would change a tad from what you had witnessed. He would spend as much time « in the lab », as he put it, but he would have more people over and prioritize his work as a producer for a bit. He seemed genuinely excited to go back to work, especially since he hadn’t indulged in such a long break in almost a decade.

Three weeks off is rare for me, he chuckled. My team almost freaked out when I told them I needed this much time off, at first.

Why did you, by the way ? You asked.

I figured I would need a lot of rest after the tour, he explained. It was a short one but it was intense and, since I don’t perform as much as I used to, it’s harder on the body. Plus, I was still very much heartbroken over a certain someone…

I’m sorry, you said sheepishly.

Don’t be. All is well in the end, right ? I got my much-needed break, I have the most amazing woman back in my arms, we got to travel together and you even moved in ! I wouldn’t have it any other way, he said as he looked at you lovingly.

They’re going to have you back in a good mood, you giggled.

I’m pretty sure I’ll turn back into my usual bitchy self as soon as I get back, he chuckled. Doesn’t help that we’re starting with a full day of meetings, too…

What meetings ? You asked, feeling curious.

Bunch of them, he shrugged. One to plan the next months ahead, review the collaboration requests we’ve got, one about potential performance dates, a meeting with a journalist for an interview… oh and another one with Tracy.

As soon as you heard her name leave his lips, you couldn’t help but grimace, which did not escape his notice. He chuckled and kissed your forehead. Since you had gone on vacation, you hadn’t mentioned her. To be fair, you were so busy that you had momentarily forgotten about her existence - which was not the worst thing. The mere mention of her was enough to make you groan and you had to put in a lot of effort not to have a mental image of her kissing your boyfriend the very day before you got back with him. Obviously, neither she nor Marshall had medium powers so they couldn’t have planned that you’d get back together but still… it irked you. You did not want that woman anywhere near Marshall. Especially since he had told you she had confessed to hoping they would get back together. He had given her a few weeks to sort her feelings out and decide on whether or not they would keep on working together, leaving the choice up to her. Your boyfriend was definitely a class act and a gentleman. Now, you secretly hoped she would quit. A shameful feeling you would never confess to having, of course.

Stop clenching your jaw like that, it’s bad for you, Marshall chuckled as he traced your jaw with his fingers.

I’m not clenching, you groaned.

You totally are, he said with a smile. You still hate her don’t you ?

Me ? Hate her ? You asked. I don’t hate her. Do I like her ? No. Do I hope she stubs her toe on some piece of furniture every morning for the rest of her life ? Maybe. But I don’t hate her.

You’re so petty, he chortled. It’s hilarious.

You mean pretty, right ?

I said what I said, he chuckled as he kissed your temple. You know you don’t have anything to worry about, though, right ?

I know, you said. I just have to shake the feeling. It’ll pass.

I hope so, he replied. If she keeps on working as my personal assistant, you might run into her from time to time. I don’t want it to be weird.

I can be civil, you assured him. As long as she keeps her hands off you.

Territorial, much ? He teased you.

You’re mine, you said.

Yours, he said with a nod before kissing you tenderly.

You settled in his arms as he turned off the lights and you put a hand over his perfect chest before drifting off to sleep. When you woke up the next day, he was already gone. You found a sweet note on your nightstand, telling you to enjoy having the house to yourself and that he would come home at 5:30PM. You missed him already but decided to make the most of your first day with some intensive self care. It was Monday so Talia was at work, otherwise you would have told her to come over for a girls day. Still, being on your own wasn’t going to prevent you from pampering yourself and trying to be pretty for your man when he would come back from work. You started with a bath, taking some time to do a full body scrub, some hair care and a face mask. One of the many perks of the house was the bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom, which was basically like a home spa. You could definitely get used to this life… you were getting dressed when the doorbell rang. It felt weird answering the door, but it was your new home after all. It was actually the delivery of your package from Agent Provocateur, and it was a huge one. As soon as you got it, you brought it to your closet and started unboxing. You had always liked lingerie but so far the most expensive stuff you had ever bought was probably from Victoria’s Secret or Princess Tam Tam, as well as a few Aubade pieces (on sale). This was different. It felt insanely sexy and luxurious and, to be honest, you weren’t too sure you deserved to be wearing such garments. Still, now that all this stuff was in your closet, you might as well wear it, so you decided to try it on. You were unsure whether it was the expensive fabrics and accessories adorning your body or your extensive pampering session from earlier, but you were absolutely feeling yourself. As you examined yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but think you looked great, which was quite a feat. Ever since you had lost weight, you had had trouble appreciating your body. You had always been on the curvier side and you had learned to love your body like this. So liking a skinnier version of your body was a bit hard. Still, the lingerie worked wonders. You tried on a few pieces and wished Marshall could be there to see it, sure that he would gladly enjoy the view, rather than being stuck in meetings with Paul, Tracy and God knows who else… That's when you had an idea : you might as well show him what was waiting for him at home when he would get back. Plus, it would also serve as a reminder that he might have a personal assistant, but you were the woman who was deserving of his attention. You didn’t actually worry about him being unfaithful, you fully trusted him, but you still had your doubts about whether or not Tracy would try and flirt with him. You barely knew the woman after all. As you tried on lingerie set after lingerie set, you snapped a few pictures and ended up having a little fun photo shoot. God bless good iPhone cameras, mirrors and timers. With a bit of color editing, the pictures looked even better. You sent one to Marshall, with the caption : « Good luck for your meetings. Miss you already. Can’t wait for you to be home ❤️ ». Within a few minutes, he answered.

From M❤️ : Can’t wait to be home either. Better not be wearing anything else when I get back.

You chuckled and decided to tease him a little more, with pictures of other sets. You were curious to know what his favorite one was. There were so many options, from cute and simple bras with matching panties to more intricate things with corsets or garter belts…

From M❤️ : Got told off by Paul for not paying attention. You’re getting me in trouble…

To M❤️ : oops. Sorry for distracting you, my love. I’ll go and put some ugly sweats right away 👀

From M❤️ : don’t you dare.

You giggled and carried on with your little picture-taking, sending him the best ones. He didn’t reply much, but at least you knew he enjoyed it. It was the middle of the afternoon and you were casually chilling in the bedroom, in your finest lingerie with music playing loud on a portable speaker you had found in the living room. Not too bad for a Monday. You had just taken a cute selfie and we’re trying to edit it when you felt a presence. Before you could turn and check, you felt a hand firmly grasping your waist. You let out a scream of terror before another hand covered your mouth and you heard a giggle in your ear. It was Marshall. You immediately relaxed and turned to face him.

You scared me ! You whined.

I yelled at you but your music was too loud, he said with a grin before turning off the speaker.

I thought I was being attacked, for a second !

Babe, it’s a gated community with security and cameras everywhere, you’re safe, he chuckled. Believe me, if my paranoid ass feels safe, it is safe.

You giggled and kissed him before checking the time on your phone. It was 3:45PM. You looked at him in disbelief. You definitely didn’t expect him home this early, not that you were going to complain.

Aren’t you supposed to be at work ? You asked.

Called off the last two meetings, he said with a smile. If anyone asks, I’m feeling under the weather. Couldn’t focus anyway. I wonder why that is…

Oops, you said as you blushed a bit. Am I in trouble ?

Depends, he chuckled. Do I get to see more pictures ?

You really suck at negotiating, you giggled. You could ask for a runway show and all you want are lousy pics ?

He smiled and firmly grabbed your waist to pull you in for a deep kiss. His hands wandered around your body as your tongues found each other.

You look incredible, he complimented. Your pictures drove me crazy.

Glad to know there’s a way to get you to get back early, you said teasingly. I’ll remember that.

I’ll be in trouble if that happens too much, he chuckled. But please feel free to send more of these pics…

He pulled you closer and you could feel him being rock hard through his jeans. Knowing you were the cause gave you quite the ego boost and you felt quite proud. You kissed him and ran your hands on his chest. Even when he was wearing a tee-shirt, you could see the outline of his pecs and it was enough to drive you crazy. You gently squeezed one pec and he leaned into your touch while one of his hands cupped your butt cheek.

So… do I get my runway show ? He asked with a smirk.

Only because I’m a good girl and I don’t want to get in trouble, you said with a wink.

You proceeded to try on a few of the items you hadn’t tried yet. The first was a black bodysuit with a lace up back, which wasn’t showing much but was giving glamorous vibes. The second was an opulent set with black lace and dainty chains, completed with a black waspie. As soon as he saw you, Marshall’s eyes widened. His mouth was slightly agape while he was staring.

Do you like it ? You asked with a smile.

You’re perfect, he said. These were fucking made for you. I think that’s my favorite set right here.

Is it ? You asked teasingly. I should take a pic, so that I can send it to you next time you’re in a meeting… so you can remember me.

I’ll take it for you, he said with a smirk as he grabbed your phone.

You got on the bed and posed for him as he smiled and tried to take a decent shot, trying different angles. You teased him and bit your lip while you ran your hands over your breast, gently pinching your nipples through the fabric.

You’re so hot, he groaned. I swear I could film you…

You can do it, you said flirtingly.

Are you serious ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sure, why not, you nodded as you kept on stroking your breast and caressing the rest of your own body, teasing him with your eyes.

His blue eyes were devouring you and you absolutely loved it. His look was one of pure adoration, mixed with desire. This prompted you to put on a little show for him. You sat at the edge of the bed and started touching yourself on top of the lacy underwear that was covering you. Your fingers circled your clit and you could feel just how wet you were, simply from knowing how aroused Marshall was. You kept on looking him in the eyes as you pleasured yourself. He was still holding the phone, staring at you, while his free hand was mindlessly palming his crotch. You looked at him with a devilish grin and walked to him before dropping on your knees.

What are y-? He began asking.

Shhhh. Just keep filming and enjoy, you said with a smirk.

You unbuckled his belt and managed to get him out of his pants and boxers. You stroked his erection, your touch making him sigh in pleasure. Precum was already dripping from the tip and you couldn’t resist licking it, gently teasing the head of his cock with your tongue as you kept on stroking him. His hand that wasn’t holding the phone went to the back of your head, gently encouraging you to keep going and you took that as you cue to start sucking, which caused him to moan and slur a few obscenities. You weren’t sure if it was the camera pointed at you, his unusually vocal response or the lingerie that had you feeling so confident, but you loved it. You stared at him as you kept on sucking him, trying to take him in as much as you could. He started bucking his hips while praising you for taking him so well. You had a bit of a gag reflex but kept going until the tip of your nose was touching his pubes. Tears were welling in your eyes but you loved hearing him moan. It was music to your ears. His hips started thrusting faster as the hold he had on your head tightened. You weren’t sure you could keep going for long and, for the briefest of moments, you were almost scared that you were going to choke. He stopped and looked at you, phone still in hand.

Bed. All fours. Now, he said.

Yes sir, you giggled playfully before doing as he said.

Hold this for me, he said as he handed you the phone so that he could shed the rest of his clothes.

When he was completely naked, he grabbed a condom from the nightstand and put it on before taking the phone back as he pushed your thong aside and positioned himself at your entrance. You let out a gasp when he entered you and immediately started moving at a frantic pace. Unlike most of the time, he did not give you time to get used to his size but you did not really mind - you liked the roughness. His hand was firmly holding your hip, his fingers slightly digging in your skin. In this instant, you belonged to him and you were his to use as he pleased. He was pounding hard into you as you moaned his name, tears still rolling on your cheeks from trying to deepthroat a few minutes earlier.

Fuck it, he groaned.

You heard a “plop”, it was your phone being carelessly thrown onto the bed and bouncing God knows where. Marshall’s now free hand found your waist. He was now firmly holding you, thrusting like a piston.

I-I’m coming, you warned.

Yes baby, he groaned. Come for me.

You both exploded in an orgasm at the same time and Marshall collapsed onto you, letting out a small grunt as his head hit your shoulder. You stayed in the unlikely position for a couple of minutes, taking the opportunity to catch your breath. You were panting and you could feel his strong heartbeat in your back. You buried your face in the sheets and enjoyed the warmth of his breath on your skin.

You are fucking incredible, he said.

You too, you said. God, that was so intense.

Too much ? He asked.

Just enough, you said with a smile. Perfect. You know I like it a little rough.

You’re also a little kinky, he pointed out.

Maybe, you admitted with a giggle.

He placed a small kiss on your shoulder and changed position so that he could properly lay next to you. He looked at you with a soft smile and placed a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t resist kissing him.

You are so hot, he said. I swear to God, I have never, ever been more turned on by anyone.

Really ? You grinned.

God, the pics, actually seeing you wear this, and then filming you ?! Babe, you are… wow, he said.

I guess I was feeling a little frisky today, you giggled.

I’ve noticed, he said with a grin. What got into you ?

I don’t know, you shrugged. I mean… the lingerie got me feeling all sexy and… I always wanted to try filming, so…

Really ? He asked.

I mean… yeah, I was curious, you admitted. What ? Do you think it’s weird ?

No, he shrugged. Not at all. You’re just a little kinkier than I thought, I guess. Not that I’m complaining.

I guess I am kinky, you said with a smile.

He let out a small laugh as he stretched and got rid of the condom before laying back on the bed.

What ? You asked, worrying that he might be making fun of you.

Nothing. It’s just kind of funny. I guess you don’t really come across as the kinky type, you know ? When I met you there was no way I would have thought you enjoyed being filmed and stuff.

Do I look that vanilla ?

Frankly ? Yes, he laughed. But hey, I love your kinky side too. It’s a pleasant surprise. Makes me wonder what else turns you on. I realize there’s a shit ton I don’t know about you.

It’s true, I haven’t been too daring in bed, so far, you admitted.

Why ? He asked. Didn’t you feel comfortable enough with me ?

It’s not that. I guess I wasn’t in the mood for kinky stuff at that particular time ? You tried to explain. I mean, getting to sleep with you is enough for me. I enjoy vanilla sex just as much.

He hummed in response, still staring at you. As if he was waiting for you to elaborate.

It’s true - we’ve been pretty vanilla so far, he said.

How about you ? You asked. Any kinks you want to tell me about ?

Hey. We were talking about yours. Don’t change the subject, he said.

Are you feeling uneasy ? You asked.

Maybe a little, he admitted.

We don’t have to have that conversation if you don’t want to, you said as you kissed his jaw.

Oh but I do want to have it, he said. I want to know about you. Go first and maybe I’ll tell you about me, he added with a grin.

Let’s see… I feel like that’s pretty basic you know ? I like it rough but I don’t know if it registers as a kink ? Maybe it does. I mean… I’ve never really got to take it as far as I want to, so, I don’t know, you said. I haven’t had too many partners, and I’ve never felt confident enough to try all the things I want to.

Really ?

Yeah. I mean, it takes a certain amount of comfort in a relationship, you said.

I guess, he admitted.

Plus, you know, I had my first boyfriend when I was 18, and he is the first person I ever slept with. It lasted about three years and we never tried anything crazy. Then there was Simon. We were together for a while but we didn’t explore much. It was mostly light spanking, hair-pulling, but that’s all. Then Josh, but we didn’t do much. And then… you.

How far did you go with Josh ?

Foreplay, you said.

He hummed, his eyes darkening.

What ? You asked, I answer, you said.

That motherfucker, Marshall commented.

You really hated him, didn’t you ? You asked.

Hate is a strong word, he said. But yeah, I wasn’t his biggest fan. He didn’t deserve you.

He was nice and caring, you pointed out. That’s more than a lot of dudes.

He was kind of stupid and he put you in danger, Marshall said flatly as he referred to the salsa bar incident that had led you to the hospital.

You know it wasn’t his fault, you said as you rolled your eyes. I think you’re being a bit jealous here.

Maybe I am, he admitted. I must say it was not the most fun time for me, when you dated him. I was trying hard not to be all over you, and he was the one who got to kiss you, take you on dates and everything.

You are the one who got the girl in the end, you reminded him, which caused him to smile.

The kinky girl, he added. Let’s not get lost here… I want to know stuff. So… slept with three people and that’s it ?

Well, no. I only dated three people before you. I did sleep with a couple more people though. Girls actually.

Oh I didn't know you liked girls, he said surprised.

Yeah, I’m bi. I never dated a girl though. They’re too impressive, you said with a laugh. Men are easier to get, I think.

Have you ever had a threesome ? He asked.

That’s on my « list » but no, never. I’d be into that, though, you admitted. Any type of threesome. Or more than that, who knows ? But yeah, I think it could be fun. And I wouldn’t want to die stupid and ignorant you know ?

Right, he chuckled. Though I must admit that in my opinion, it’s a bit overhyped.

You’ve had threesomes ?

A bunch of times, yeah, he shrugged. I mean, I get a lot of opportunities on tour. I’ve had threesomes, foursomes, moresomes…

You looked at him with curiosity. You figured that, given his age and occupation, he must have had a lot of experiences, but you didn’t really know how far he had taken it. You were kind of curious and there were a lot of questions you wanted to ask.

Did you enjoy it ? You asked.

I mean… Yeah, he said. That was a point in my life when I wanted to get all the pussy I could, so in that regard, that was fun. Though there’s something about the logistics. Threesomes are fine but when there’s more people or an actual orgy, there’s a lot going on at the same time so you can’t really focus, you know what I mean ? But yeah, that was exciting. I mean, I did get a lot of opportunities and propositions, a while ago.

I bet you still do, you said.

Not really, he chuckled. I mean, with the level of security that I have, it’s hard to get to me anyway so there’s not a lot of people who can actually proposition me, you know ? Back in the day, we were more lenient with security and letting people hang out with us after shows. But regardless, my interest in that is different.

You’re still a regular horndog, you giggled.

True, he said with a smile. But getting sober made a big difference when it comes to my approach to sex and intimacy in general.

I have so many questions, you said.

Me first, he reminded you.

Fine, you said as you rolled your eyes. What do you want to know ?

Mmmh… How rough do you mean, when you say you like it rough ? Marshall asked.

I don’t know, you said. I haven’t tested a lot of things yet, so I think I’d like to push my limits and test stuff. I wouldn’t necessarily want to get punched in the face, but being shoved against a wall, the ground and roughhousing ? Yes, absolutely.

Ok, he said with a nod as if he was making a mental note. What else ?

Let’s see… Well I wanted to try being filmed and we did that, so I guess we can cross that off my list…

You’d never done that before ? He asked.

Never.

He smiled at you with pride and his grin made you scoff. Male ego at its peak.

I wouldn’t say I’m into exhibition, but I wouldn’t mind trying stuff in public either, you added. I think the fear of getting caught can be really exciting. Other than that there’s… uh… submission.

Really ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Yeah, you confessed shyly. I think it’s really really hot when your partner takes control. Especially of you’re the partner.

You could feel the heat in your cheeks and you were pretty sure your face was crimson red at this point, but there was something about Marshall, his aura, his natural charisma, his voice that called to your submissive nature. It had never been the case with anyone else, only him.

Me ? He asked with a smirk.

Oh yeah, you admitted. When you get that deep voice… ? God…

You got lost in your thoughts for a second. The mere idea of Marshall domineering you was turning you on.

Keep going, he said. I want to know more.

I think that’s it, actually, you said with a smile. I mean, I haven’t done a lot of research either. I just want to explore stuff and have fun.

I guess we might be able to try some stuff together, if you’re up for it, he said before kissing you.

Really ? You asked in excitement.

Sure, he chuckled. I mean, I wouldn’t consider myself like much of a dominant, but if you wanted me to try, I might give it a go.

Ok, you said softly.

The idea of being able to explore sexuality and furthering your intimacy made you really happy. You had never felt so safe with any of your partners before. You trusted this man with all of your heart and soul.

What else would you be willing to try ? You asked giddily.

What was on the list again ? He asked.

Hum… Threesomes ? I mean, you’ve done it before so it wouldn’t be anything new to you, you said.

I don’t know about this one, he admitted.

Oh, ok, you said.

I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about sharing you, he explained. Given the right opportunity and person, it’s not a firm and definitive no, but… Yeah, I don’t know. But threesomes can be fun, for sure.

Ok, you agreed. That makes sense. But if it were to happen, like, hypothetically, you’d rather have it be with another woman, right ?

Absolutely, he said. I’m definitely straight and I understand that a woman might want to have two men with her but… No way I’m sharing you with another dude. Not happening. Sorry babe.

That’s fine, you giggled. Just testing the water here. So, when you had threesomes and all, it was just girls ?

Yep, he chuckled. My ex is bi so she would have girls over and that’s how it would happen, most of the time.

You were in an open marriage ? You asked.

Not really, he chuckled. Though there was so much cheating that it might as well have been an open marriage, I guess. Let’s just say I was more lenient if she hooked up with girls and especially if it could benefit me as well…

Ok, you said with a smile. My turn, now ?

Fire away, he said.

Are you sure you’re straight ? You asked cockily. Like, have you ever been with a man ?

I have, he said casually.

Really ?!

You were in shock. You definitely weren’t expecting that and your question was actually a joke. You didn’t have a problem with it, obviously, but seeing as he had been portrayed as homophobic in the past, you didn’t think he would have given it a try.

Can I ask questions about that ? You asked.

I guess, he shrugged. I mean, I don’t think I have really talked about it but I trust you so, yeah, go ahead. But there’s nothing to say, really.

When was it ?

Uh… Twenty years ago, I’d say ? He replied after taking some time to think. So, yeah, it was a while ago. When I performed with Elton John at the Grammys…

NOOOOOO ?! You almost yelled.

Your mouth was wide open and you were almost in shock. Had your boyfriend really slept with Elton John ?!?! He immediately burst into a fit of laughter, so much so that he was actually crying.

You should see your face, he said as he tried to catch his breath. Fuck, you’re so gullible, babe.

You’ve been leading me on, haven’t you ? You asked with a grin. You’ve never tried guys.

Oh no, that part was true, he chuckled. It happened after the Grammys but it wasn’t with Elton. He’s great, he’s a friend but it wasn’t him. I don’t think I remember the guy’s name though. In my defense, I was high.

So, what happened ? You asked. Hooked up with a guy and didn’t like it ?

Basically, yeah, he said. The guy looked good and I though “If I ever have to be attracted by a man, I think that would be someone like this”, so when he flirted and made a pass at me, I went for it. He was cool and an ok kisser, but the hookup was a disaster. If you can even call it that. I was fucking high but that sobered me up and I knew right then and there : straight. 1000%.

At least you know for sure, you giggled.

Exactly, he chuckled. Next question ?

Do you have any kinks ?

Not so many, he said. I’ve tried a lot of stuff, out of curiosity and for the sake of experience but I’m not into freaky, kinky stuff. I’m a simple man. But I suppose it depends on what you call a kink ?

I don’t even know, you giggled. I should have done my research if I had known I’d get to quiz you.

Find a list and I’ll tell you whether or not I’m into it, he shrugged.

You grabbed your phone and took the first list you found - there went the purity of your web browser.

Age play ? Like “daddy-dominant-little-girl” ?

Absolutely not. Being called daddy in bed is a huge turn-off. Maybe it’s a Dad thing, I don’t know. Not to kink-shame but I think it’s sort of twisted you know ? He said.

You have called me “babygirl” before though, you pointed out with a smile.

Yeah but I don’t see it in the same way. Probably a double-standard he admitted.

Let’s see… Bondage ? You asked.

I don’t mind it. It can be fun but not a necessity.

Blindfold sex ?

Hate it, he said. I love being able to look at my partner. I think I’m pretty visual when it comes to sex. As for blindfolding people… maybe. Once again, it can be fun once in a while.

So no blindfolding you, you noted. Cuckholding ?

Is that shit alphabetised ? He asked with a laugh. Cuckholding is a no for me. First, because I don’t do humiliation, secondly because I’m not big on sharing.

Yes it’s alphabetised, you smiled.

I do enjoy that. I know it’s not a kink but I like things in order.

Good to know, you chuckled. Claustrophilia ?

It depends. I’ve had sex in elevators, closets and airplane bathrooms, so I think it counts. You ?

Never thought of it but I’m not against it, you said with a wink.

Good to know. Glad I can easily get a jet for us to try that, too…

You chuckled once again. You liked learning more about him.

Dominance we have already talked about… how about DIY porn ? You asked. That’s the next item on the list.

Didn’t we just do that ? He asked back.

Yeah but how did you feel about it ?

It was fun. I’m not even sure I did a great job with the filming though. But I guess it’ll be fun to have the video as a memory if i’m ever away from you and horny, he stated.

Electrostimulation ?

Nope.

Erotic Asphyxiation ?

They could have put that in the B section under “Breathplay” he commented. I don’t really like being choked but if you want me to do it to you, sure. Safely, of course.

Both his alphabetical comment and the statement made you smile.

Foot fetish ?

Nope. A girl asked me to try that once but I didn’t like it.

Food play ?

It can be fun but I’m not big on it. Next ?

Gagging ?

Not for me, no. You ?

No thanks, you said. I don’t really mind if I gag a little during a blowjob, though. But not voluntarily.

I do like the idea of making you gag with my cock, he confessed with a little grin. Next ?

Gerontophilia ?

Nothing against the elderly but that’s not a kink for me, he said. But I’m sure I’ll find you sexy as fuck when you’re an old lady though.

Thanks, you laughed. We’ve covered humiliation already… how about impact play ? Like hitting ?

I don’t really want to be hit or spanked, he said. You ?

I think I’d like to try, you said. I’ve been spanked before but I’d gladly try more.

As long as I’m not physically hurting you…, he said.

You could see a hint of sadness in his eyes.

Are you alright ? You asked immediately.

Yeah, no, I’m good, he said dryly. I just… well we might as well talk about it…

What’s wrong ? We can stop this conversation if you’re not ok, baby, you said.

It’s fine, he said. It’s just… in the past, Kim and I got physical a couple of times. I mean, you probably know about that, because of the media and I’ve written songs about it. It’s never been to a point where I was actually beating her down, but we’ve definitely hit each other a number of times. But thinking about that… it’s hard because it’s one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made, you know ? That’s not the person I want to be.

That’s not the person you are either, you said softly. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.

I’d rather kill myself than hurt you, he stated in all seriousness.

You looked at him and his stern expression. You gently stroked his hand.

I trust you and I know you’ll never hurt me, you said.

You don’t think I’m an asshole who deserves hell for what I’ve done ? He asked pensively.

I don’t. I mean, I’ll never condone domestic violence and if you ever lay a hand on me in circumstances that aren’t sexual, I’ll leave, that’s for sure. I’ll never say it’s ok that you hit your ex, but it’s also in the past and I know you have changed. So I trust you and I don’t think you deserve to suffer. I can see on your face that you suffer enough from the memories.

I deserve to, he said sternly.

Sorry, you said. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought up impact play. If it triggers you, we’ll never try it.

If you want to try, maybe we can keep it on the soft side, he said. But yeah… I don’t think I’d be ready to really hit you too hard. Even if you begged for it.

We can stop the list there, if you want, you said. I mean… I love talking about that with you but I’d be happy to just cuddle and go to bed, you know ?

Nah, it’s good. Keep the list going. I like learning stuff about you, he said with a smile.

Ok, so… interrogation play ?

Not really.

Japanese bondage like shibari ?

Not my stuff either. I get the hype but it’s too intricate and I don’t have time for that shit, he said with a grin. It’s really sexy to see though.

Klismaphilia ? You asked.

What the fuck even is that ? He asked laughingly.

It’s Greek and it means… oh… it’s enemas.

Ah. Then no. Absolutely not, he said.

Me neither. How about Katoptronophilia ? It’s masturbating in front of a mirror.

Nope.

How about masochism ? You asked.

Down to M already ? No, I'm not a masochist.

Reading the description I might be into that, you commented. It’s enjoying pain so… maybe I’m a bit of a masochist after all, you shrugged.

Yeah ? Well as I said… as long as I don’t mistreat you… I guess I can pull your hair and spank you gently, he said with a smile.

Sounds fine, you said with a smile. Next on the list is… Melolagnia, you added with a grin. I think I’ve just discovered a new kink of mine.

What is that ?

I’ll read it to you : “ Melolagnia is a fetish that involves being turned on by music. This doesn’t simply mean having a go-to Spotify playlist when you have sex, but rather experiencing strong sexual reactions in response to music and also fantasizing about certain songs or genres. The arousal can derive from a combination of the musical elements including the singer’s voice, beat, repetition, or even the quality of the composition, all of which can lead to physical sensations like goosebumps, a faster heartbeat, or even more natural sexual lubrication.” You quoted.

Oh wow. Didn’t know that existed, he said. But yeah music turns me on. You ?

Oh, definitely, you said blushing and attempting to hide your face.

Why are you suddenly so red and looking away ? He asked with a grin. Any songs I should know about ?

Shut up, you muttered.

Come on, Y/N. Tell me.

No. You’ll never let me live it down, you said.

As long as it’s not MGK, that should be fine, he joked.

Come on…

Tell me ! What ? Is it an artist I’ve had beef with ? Mariah ? Christina Aguilera ? Ja Rule ? Please don’t say Ja Rule…

I’m not having this conversation, you said, embarrassed.

Now that I know you like domination, I can make you talk, woman, he said as he put a finger underneath your chin.

You wouldn’t, you mumbled.

Try me.

Your eyes met his. He stared at you.

Tell me, he said in his deep, authoritarian voice.

“Not fair”, you thought, definitely turned on but unable to speak.

Do I know them ?

You nodded.

Is it a friend of mine ? Dre ? 50 ? He asked as you were unable to make a sound. Then who ? Tell. Me.

There went the voice again.

It’s… you.

You spoke so softly, hoping he wouldn’t catch it. Unfortunately for you, he did.

Ah, he said with a grin, trying not to laugh.

Don’t judge me, you muttered.

Well it depends… is there a song in particular ? He asked softly.

Do we have to have this conversation ? You asked as you rolled your eyes.

Come on babe, it’s fun. And it’s flattering. I’m glad you think my music can be sexy.

Marshaaaaall…

Please ?

He was looking at you with adorable puppy eyes.

Fine, you grumbled. Superman. And Heat, too. You happy ?

You hid your face in your hands in embarrassment. You heard him scoff and he gently kissed your shoulder.

Come on, it’s fine. It’s not as if you had said FACK, you know ? Then I probably would have laughed in your face. But Superman… ? I sort of get it. I mean, it’s kind of the intention we had when we recorded. Heat too. I mean, it’s in the title. So it’s fine, babe.

You don’t think I’m a weird groupie ? You asked.

Of course not. I think you’re the cutest thing ever, right now. And I can definitely sing those for you sometime, he said with a grin. Let’s just not play one of my albums while we fuck, ok ? I’m not that much of an egomaniac.

Mmmh.

Let’s get back to the list, he said as he took the phone from your hand. So… Nylons ? No. Nebulophilia - steam and fog ? Neither. Oh… objectum sexuality. You like toys ?

I have a couple, you admitted. You ?

Yeah, a couple too. Though I don’t use them much. But we could definitely have fun with that, he said.

Sure, why not. What’s next ?

Uh… pregnancy fetish.

Well I’m attracted to women but not pregnant ones, you stated. I get that the creation of life can be beautiful and stuff, but they look like aliens to me.

Yeah ? Well I have to admit… I don’t want anymore kids because I’m all done with that and too old for that shit anyway but… yeah, I think pregnancy is sexy, he admitted. I mean, I sort of have a breeding kink.

Really ? You asked in shock.

Yep. Never been more attracted to my ex than when she was pregnant, he said.

Was that because she was carrying your baby ? You asked.

No, not even that. I mean, that plays a big part in the appreciation, but Stevie isn’t technically mine and still, when Kim was pregnant with her… I found her so hot.

Ok, you said.

You’d had the kids' conversation before and you were ready to give that up, but him saying that kind of made you regret the fact that you’d never be pregnant anymore.

You ok baby ? He asked when you went silent.

Sure, you said softly. I’m just thinking… I’ll never get pregnant again, so… I’ll never get to experience this kind of attraction from you to me, you know ?

Doesn’t matter, baby. I’m always attracted to you. You’re my kink and fetish, you yourself, he said.

Yeah ? You asked.

Of course. Plus, I may have a pregnancy fetish but it’s not that much. Like, I’m not going to jump on every pregnant lady I see like some sort of creep. And I’m not crazy to the point of dealing with 20 years of consequences for 9 months of kink.

Makes sense, you chuckled. So if my belly gets too round because of pizza, that’ll turn you on ?

I don’t know, he said as he burst out in laughter. Probably not though. I like your belly just the way it is.

Ok then. Next item ?

Public sex, he said. That’s a no for me. Obviously. I can’t risk it. Then we have… Quirofilia, the fetish for hands. I don’t really have that either.

Good. I’ll save on getting my nails done, you joked.

No, you can still do that. I mean, I love seeing your pretty hands… especially on some places… but it’s just not really a kink. Also, nail biting turns me off.

Really ?

Yup. Next is… role play. What do you think about that ? He asked.

Not really my thing, you said. But if it’s something you like, I’ll give it a try.

It’s not really my thing either, he said with a smile. Robot fetish ?

Nope, you replied. You ?

Neither. I mean, I guess that if I was single and really in need, I’d love to get a sex robot, but the idea doesn’t really turn me on, he said.

Yeah, you’re just a guy, you teased.

Probably, he admitted with a laugh. Next is spectrochilia. Do you believe in ghosts ?

Not really. But if they were to exist, they’d be more scary than sexy to me, you said.

I agree. Then we have Stygiophilia. That’s a good one, he said. The pleasure of the idea of going to hell or facing eternal punishment. I guess I’d better get going on that one because there’s no way I’m going to heaven so…

Don’t be silly. Of course you’ll go to heaven. You’re the best human I know, you said.

Do you even believe in God he asked ?

Depends. In times of despair, I hope he exists and hears my prayers. Plus, when I look at the marvel of the universe, I think it’s not something random… but I’ve never even read any sacred text or anything, so, not really. How about you ?

I’d say I’m a Christian, he simply stated. Not churchy or anything, but yeah, I’ve read the Bible and I believe in God.

I didn’t know that, you said.

I don’t talk about it a lot. What’s the point ? Everyone has their beliefs.

True. What’s next ?

Tentacles. Nope.

Me neither, you said.

Trichophilia - are you attracted to hair ?

Are you kidding ? I’m a girl born in the 90s. If anything I’ve been taught to despise it, you said with a laugh. You ?

Not attracted to it, nope. But I’m also not one of those guys who is disgusted by it. It’s just… hair.

What’s next ?

Urophilia. That’s a no for me. You ?

Neither.

Thank God. I mean… if you had been into it, I would have respected it, but there’s no way I could be involved in it.

Yeah it’s gross. Let’s change the subject. What’s next ? You asked.

Underwear. Well, you know I have a thing for lingerie, obviously, he chuckled. How about you ?

I like lingerie too, you said with a smile. As for male underwear, I don’t really care, but I like your boxers.

Then we have… Voyeurism, he said.

Oh I’m not a voyeur, you said. If anything I am scared to catch anyone I know in the middle of sex.

Same, he chuckled. But I have to admit that seeing you touch yourself is the hottest thing ever. That gets me really horny, really fast.

Really ? You asked.

Fuck yeah, he said. Remember the night I told you I loved you ?

You blushed at the memory. The whole thing had been caused by his very own sex scene in 8 Mile, of all things.

I like masturbating for you, you said softly. And I kind of like watching you masturbate too.

So kind of a voyeur too I guess ? He said.

I guess. Next ?

Vicarphilia - that’s the… oh, the arousal of hearing someone talk about their sec life. What do you think of that ?

I guess that can be sexy. Never thought of it before. But talking about sex is sexy anyway.

True, he said. Even casually like right now… it’s kind of cool and sexy, he admitted. Then we have whips. Once again, not too keen on those.

Oh, ok, you said.

You ?

I wouldn’t have minded trying but it’s not necessarily on my list either, you said earnestly. Next ?

« Wet and messy », he said with a laugh. I do love when you’re all wet and messy.

Isn’t that one about wet food like jell-o though ? You asked. I always thought it’s kind of gross though.

Oh yeah, he said upon reading the description. Then no, that’s not my thing. Wax play ?

Maybe, you said. I like the idea of massage candles and stuff.

Yeah, that sounds pretty cool, he agreed. Then we have yoni eggs. I don’t have a vagina so I don’t really have an opinion on that one, I have to say.

Yeah… not my thing, you said with a grimace.

Zappers ? He asked. Like electro-stimulation ? Yup, no thanks.

It sounds scary, you said as he nodded.

And there’s the last item on the list : Zentai. Like the latex body suits, he stated.

Not sure I’d like it, you said.

Same here. I mean, you’d look hot in one though, but I’ll survive if I never see it.

That’s it ? We’re done ?

We’re done, he said. Unless you have more questions for me ? To be fair I asked you a lot of them too.

You took a second to think. Of course you had tons of questions you’d like to ask him. After all, he was a worldwide renown superstar, so you assumed he must have crazy stories to tell.

Do you know exactly how many people you have had sex with ? You asked.

I should have known this one was coming, he chuckled. No, I genuinely have no idea. Anything else ?

Do you miss the era when you were… you know… getting a lot of action ? Instead of just having one partner ?

No, he said with a smile. It was fun for a while but it wasn’t fulfilling. When you don’t have a lot of opportunities, you fantasize about it and you think it’s going to be the best thing ever, but you don’t actually get to build a connection with someone, you know ? And the sex is so much better when you have that. Especially with you.

Do you really like our sex life ? You asked.

Of course, he scoffed. What ? Do I look like I don’t ?

No, you said with a smile. But sometimes I worry that I’m not… experienced enough for you.

You don’t have to worry about that, baby, he said as he took you in his arms. I love fucking you, making love to you… It’s great. Are you happy with our sex life ?

Of course, you replied. I mean… You already know you’re the best I have ever had. And I love that we’re able to talk about it, too. Thank you for opening up to me, my love.

I like talking to you, he said. Now, how about a shower ? I’m all sweaty.

You nodded and you went to the bathroom where you showered together, kissing and exchanging love words. After, you lounged in the living room, mindlessly watching TV as he told you about his day and his meetings.

How did the meeting with Tracy go, by the way ? You asked.

Went well, he said with a smile. We talked for a bit and she said she actually feels comfortable to keep working with me, so that’s one less thing to worry about. I would hate it if I had to hire someone else. Sorry, babe, I know you would have loved to see her go.

I never said that, you defended yourself.

I know you too well, he chuckled. You don’t have to worry, though. About how she feels about me, I mean. We cleared the air and she said she was just feeling super lonely.

Do you believe her ? You asked as you squinted.

I do, he replied. So you don’t have to worry about anything, ok ?

Ok, you shrugged. I mean, I trust you. By the way, have you slept with anyone else from your team ?

No, he chuckled. Just her. Why ? Are you jealous ?

I’m not, you said. But I just want to know if I risk running into someone who’s slept with you, you know ?

You should be fine, he chuckled. I mean, you don’t risk meeting any ex of mine besides Tracy. Oh, and Kim, obviously. But that’s it ?

Why would I meet Kim ? You asked confused.

Well, she’s going to be here at Thanksgiving, he shrugged - as if it were no big deal.

You looked at him with a confused look. You had agreed to celebrate Thanksgiving together this year, with his family. It sort of made sense, since the two were living together anyway. However, you had absolutely no idea that it would imply meeting his ex - the infamous Kim Scott. The one that people considered as Marshall’s one true love. You were so taken aback that you had no control over your facial expression.

Anything wrong ? He asked after a few seconds of silence.

You didn’t tell me that when we talked about Thanksgiving, you pointed out.

I thought I did, he shrugged.

I think I would remember if my boyfriend told me his ex-wife would be here, you said sternly.

Sorry, babe, he said casually. Is that an issue ?

I mean… yeah, you said frankly. Why would you celebrate Thanksgiving with her anyway ?

Because she is the mother of my children, he explained. It’s a family holiday.

But she is your ex. You’re divorced, you said.

Yeah but we will always be family, you know ? He continued. It allows the girls to have both of their parents with them and not have to choose. Especially now that they all have boyfriends and spend holidays with their in-laws every other year. Plus, we’re good, you know ? We get along pretty well so it’s no big deal.

Ok, you mumbled. I’ll just celebrate with Talia and Jamal, then.

Not with me ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. I was kind of looking forward to our first holiday together, babe.

Me too, you admitted. But that was before I knew your ex would be here.

Why would that change anything ? He asked.

Because it changes everything, you said. How do you expect me to enjoy it if the woman you married - twice, mind you -, the mother of your children is here ? I’m going to be… intruding.

No you wouldn’t, he said as he took your hand in his. You’re my girl, you’re the lady of this house. You can’t intrude in your own place. I want you here, with me.

I don’t know, you said. I don’t feel comfortable. And I bet she wouldn’t either.

She knows you’ll be here, he shrugged. And she doesn’t mind. I think she’s looking forward to meeting you actually.

You stared at him in surprise. You definitely didn’t expect to spend your first holiday as Marshall’s girlfriend with his ex-wife being around. He didn’t seem phased by the situation, as if he didn’t see the problem. You, on the other hand, could smell the disaster from ten thousand miles away. Right when you thought you didn’t actually have to worry about another woman in Marshall’s life, you were about to meet his fucking ex-wife. What could go wrong ? Absolutely everything.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #recovery fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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kikarouflames · 5 months

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I wanted to talk about this scene for a while now:

First of all, when Mikasa obviously very upset and raged up by female titan kidnapping Eren, she vents her anger out by blaming Levi for not being able to do his job of protecting Eren. I don't think she knows much about how the whole squad got killed by Annie.

But, Levi instead of snapping at Mikasa or getting offended by her furious statement, he chooses to not react on it. He just saw his squad dead and is definitely depressed.

The look on his face after Mikasa said that, turns grim and he looks too tired. He looks like that while returning from expedition and facing Petra's dad too. I think, the statement actually hit him more than it shows. It looks like he ignored it, but the grim look said otherwise.

He was definitely blaming himself for not reaching out there in time to save his precious squad members and was already suffering from their loss of lives. And Mikasa's statement worked like lemon on wound.

He didn't react, it's not like him. He also is a very understanding adult, for he chooses to not think Mikasa as rude for saying that. He understands she is just 15 and how Eren is a special person for her, having him taken away and endangered always make Mikasa recklessly furious. But also, I think, he thought that those words were true, he thought that it was his shortcoming for not reaching there on time.

He understands that he can't save everyone, but it's this sad realization for him that pains him the most. Being called humanity's strongest and then not being able to wondrously saving them. He sure lost and sacrificed the most, considering his closest people and friends are all dead.

He is too selfless and goal oriented ( saving and protecting humanity) that he won't wallow in self pity and he never did strike me as someone who would ponder over things he couldn't control, he did rather do something productive and make a difference. But this feeling of not being or doing enough definitely always there somewhere in his mind, he just brushes it off and focuses on what he can still do.

He lost his whole squad too, but he chooses to put aside his pain and understand Mikasa's. He was never the one to complain about his life either. He is just to selfless to do so.

This scene was a really good point for his character, how he is an understanding and thoughtful adult. How he does get affected by deaths severely and doesn't show it. How he might actually blame himself for not being able to save lives.

I don't think Levi would have too much guilt, in a way Erwin did. But he definitely sometimes blame himself for what's lost, that is not even his fault. And just shows how even a person who has been through and seen so much deaths and suffering, can still be so vulnerable to it.

Levi has treated every life as precious and meaningful, loss of this life he considers so precious and not being able to do anything, when situation is totally our of his hand, can make him depressed too. As I already said, he would still brush off those thoughts and not ponder on it. He would rather do whatever he can to help, to make sure that those lost lives weren't in vain.

For Levi not only life has meaning and worth but death does too, he will do everything in his power to give meaning to both the lives and deaths of his comrades.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi #shingeki no kyojin #levi fanart #levi character analysis #kikarou rambles #aot meta #kikarou metas

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 4 months

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Hey, I dont know if you do emergency requests or not, but can I make a sort of one?

My cats been missing for three days, I've had her since I was 11 and she is REALLY important to me(shes also never been gone this long). We just got a ton of snow, im worried for her and I overheard my parents saying they think our neighbor did something to her. Can I request Sk8 characters comforting their S/O in a scenario like that?

Hi Squeezy! I'm so sorry to hear about your cat, I really hope you find her soon. I hope you like the headcanons. I didn't include Adam or Tadashi but please let me know if you'd like headcanons about them as well.

The "good" ending can be found here and the "bad" ending can be found here.

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Characters: Reki Kyan, Langa Hasegawa, Miya Chinen, Kojiro Nanjo, Kaoru Sakurayahiki x gn! Reader

Reki is probably one of the best people to be around if you want your mind taken off the situation. He’s good at listening as well if you want to talk but his real talent lies in distracting you.

Having said that, he’s very adaptable so if you prefer being comforted in a different way, he can change his methods to suit you.

If you feel like talking or just need comfort, Reki gives fantastic hugs. He’ll sway gently side to side and rub your back or head.

If you want to go out and help look for your cat, he’ll tag along. That way he’s helping but is also with you for support.

Of course, he’d also take his skateboard out and skate around town looking for your missing fur friend on his own. But his first priority is making sure you’re okay.

Langa is the best listener out of everyone here. If you want to talk about what's happening or reminisce about good times with your furry friend, he's there to lend an ear.

Much like Reki, he's going to grab his skateboard and go around town trying to find any clues as to where your cat's gone.

He'll ask around at S as well. While Reki might have some reservations about going up to a random person at S and asking if they've seen a cat around, Langa does have the same qualms.

Langa's not the best with physical touch but if you want hugs or any other form of physical comfort, he'll do his best.

All in all, he'll be a more quiet supporter in this situation. He'll do what he can to help but he's a lot more subtle than some of the others.

Oh, Miya is finding your cat and discovering every detail of what happened. He’s starting a search on every social media platform he has and is ready to take it to the news if need be.

A missing cat is no joke to someone who's favourite animals are felines so Miya is right there with you in missing your furry friend.

He's probably very attached to your cat as well so he's going to do whatever he can to get it back. If that means he has to call in some favours thanks to his standing and fame, he'll do just that.

Miya's not great with words or physical affections but if that's what you want to help you deal with the situation, he'll do his best.

If he gets to choose how to comfort you, he's going to just be in your presence. He may not be great with words or physical comfort but he's got a reasonably soothing presence.

Joe is taking you back to the restaurant, making you your favourite dish, calling Cherry so he can give you company, and setting out to search for your cat.

He’d be there in person but doing nothing while someone he cares about is hurting is hard for him, especially if he knows there are things he can do to help.

Joe will also print out missing flyers and stick them up all over town, keeping a few at the restaurant. Every customer he servs, he’ll ask if they’ve seen your furry friend (if they can give him any information, he’s offering a free dessert).

If you do particularly want his company, Joe will stay with you and make calls to a bunch of his connections from S so they can start the search.

He’s good at comforting people, especially if they want someone to talk to, either about the situation or about something else entirely. He’s a good listener and will respond at the right moments with the right words.

Cherry is the perfect combination of Joe and Miya: he's going to be hands on with helping to find your cat but he's going online as well.

He's also got more resources than Miya so he'll be sending out drones as well to scout the city in search of your cat.

He's also going to call in help from Joe. He knows that, as many connections as he has, his old friend has a lot of different connections that may also be able to help.

Because he can search remotely, Cherry will be able to spend a lot more time with you than the others.

He's very adaptable in comforting you so whether you want physical comfort, kind words, a good listener, or just someone to be with, he's got it covered.

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howdoesagrapewrites · 10 months

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Poly pavitr and gayatri with a reader who loves their yandere antics bc I honestly would’ve stayed with them. Have you seen them omg

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚

Cw: poly!gn!reader x Pavitr Prabhakar x Gayatri Singh, unhealthy attachment, slightly sadistic reader

Notes: my honest reaction if Ms Gayatri Singh and Pavitr freaking Prabhakar wanted to hold me captive

"You don't go near that door" Gayatri's voice was dark, rich, it tingled your ears like plum velour

You tilted your head with genuine intrigue, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Please" Pavitr whined as he came near you

"Will it hurt you if I leave?" You're fixated on Pavitr's eyes, warm chocolate brown now shadowed with desperation, need.

"Yes, you have no idea" he answers, reaching for your waist, you don't let him grab you, rather close the distance yourself and throw your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling in his neck, you break partially loose and beckon Gayatri to come to you, she follows, docile, nothing left of her previous attitude.

You're enveloped by their warmth, some might say it was suffocating, they were probably right.

"Then I won't, I won't hurt you, I won't leave." You're know what that phrase entails, what you've promised, to who you've promised yourself, but you're choosing to do it this way, to embrace them entirely, at their lowest, and their worst. You trusted them with your life, your heart, your mind, they will never forsaken you, they will never be uninterested, they will never get bored of you, as far as you're concerned, that's true love. The one the poets sing about and people fawn over, the kind of true love that makes humans scared, scared of the intensity of their feeling, afraid of love in its purest form, at its rawest.

This promise made them feel secure to unleash all of them, all the things they hid.

Pavitr would only ever leave to perform as spiderman, always coming back needy for affection, that you of course always provided. Pavitr needed to be close to you or Gayatri at all times, and you always indulged him, he held your hand while you ate lunch, cuddled you when you were busy on the computer, sat on the middle of the bathroom while you were showering, he no longer needed to hide his overwhelming hunger for you. You found it endearing, nothing was enough for him, no matter how much you gave to him, he would never find it "too much", he would never think of you as anything but a blessing, a gift.

Unlike other situations where you would resist, they were both lenient with your "out-passes", letting you have a semi-normal life, of course you could never go alone, but it wasn't because they didn't trust you, it was because they missed you. They distrust the world.

Gayatri got you both jewelry that she swears are not collars, they are. You know this, Pav knows too, but you're thrilled by it, a reminder of how she owns you, how you own each other, the delicate balance that can be thrown off by any of you, yet it's kept solely because of your devotion. You understand her feelings, and even though you don't need a collar or a leash to stay by her side, you'll wear anything if she asks in such a nice way, such a sweet way.

You spend your days hearing the word "love" left and right, but it has never been spoke with such authentic, sterling meaning behind it.

"Love". Love enough to fill you up, love enough to clean you up, love enough to drown this out, love enough to drown you out.

#atsv x reader #atsv pavitr #gayatri singh #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr x gayatri #pavitr x reader #gayatri x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #spiderverse pavitr #yandere pavitr prabhakar #yandere pavitr #yandere spiderverse #yandere Gayatri Singh #gayatri x pavitr #gayatri #gayatri atsv #gayatri singh x reader

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dreamweaversfavsandthoughs · 4 months

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Rick and Morty S7 Ep. 10: Fear No Mort

(A bittersweet end to a great season)

If you are not ready to conquer your fear of spoilers, go no further…

My Favs

Diane!

Overall, I’m pleased with how the writers handled the character of Diane and Rick’s interaction with her. They don’t portray either Diane or their marriage as flawless. There is definitely a bite to her personality and we see them have conflict like any married couple but there is still a lot of love and affection there, assuming Morty’s version of the relationship is accurate. It is certainly open to interpretation. In my mind, the only thing that was inaccurate is Diane’s disdain for her grandson. In actuality, I think she would have loved Morty to death and have absolutely spoiled him rotten as a grandmother should.

I also love that the writers confirmed that she was a scientist or was on the path to become one. She was definitely some sort of biologist, maybe a zoologist or a ornithologist. I don’t know about you but my heart went pitter-patter when Rick said her master’s thesis inspired him to create a ray to hear duck’s talk.

Lastly, I’d like to say that while I thought we might have somehow had the real Rick interact with the real Diane through some sort of sci-fi resurrection or afterlife break-in, I’m ultimately glad this is the work around the writers came up with. Anything else would have cheapened Diane’s death and Rick’s grief.

Rod Serling/Twilight Zone homage

Confession time. I’ve never seen the original Twilight Zone or the reboot, but I’m aware of the premise of the show and how it ties with this episode. I know I’m missing out and it’s on my list of shows to watch. Sometimes, I wish I could get a Night Person to watch all the television shows I don’t have time for in my waking hours.

Tide and Time

Really enjoy the newest Ryan Elder song. He is incredibly skilled at finding or creating the perfect soundtrack to convey the emotion we need for a particular episode.

Morty’s fear of relying on Rick

I will expound on this further in “My Thoughts”

Rick choosing Morty

Not only does he do it once, but twice. Once in Morty’s fear simulation and once in the real world.

Not my Fav

Product Placement

I know capitalism has got to capitalism, but could we please leave ads for shitty restaurants out of my story of a grandfather and his grandson navigating the human condition in a infinite, nihilistic universe that is incapable of caring! Thanks.

Besides, the fear hole should have been at a Shoney’s

My Thoughts

Morty’s codependency, fear of change, and learning to not live for the dead but to live for the living.

Seasons 6 and 7 has seen a gradual shift from Rick being a drunk asshole who is incapable of creating any real attachments because there are infinite versions of everyone (except for the one person he most cares about) to someone who is less drunk, ever so slightly less of an asshole, but a little more willing to open his heart to the version of his family he has chosen to live with. Unmortricken closed the chapter on Rick’s life purpose of getting revenge on Rick Prime and now with Fear No Mort we see Rick resist the temptation of clinging to the past and choose the grandson living in the present. The finale doesn’t give us much to chew on in regards to what is in store next for Rick, but in some way, I think the show is taking a bit of a pause on Rick as it shifts to Morty.

As the twist reveals, this episode focused exclusively on Morty’s psyche and his recognition and fear of his codependency with Rick. I recommend if you haven’t, to rewatch the episode a second time with this knowledge in tow. What sticks out to me is the antagonist relationship he has with Diane. They never speak to or acknowledge each other. I don’t think she even makes eye contact with him and in the scene at the school play, Diane belittles him and delivers an ultimatum to Rick. Choose her or choose Morty. Maybe the show wants us to take this literally, and it is really Diane he resents and that Rick will never choose the family in the present. Rick will never choose Morty. In my mind, I have a more metaphorical interpretation. I think Diane is symbolic of a future Rick that is, at last, happy and mentally healthy. Morty fears that if Rick gets better he will need his grandson less and that scares the shit out of him. He can’t imagine a life without Rick by his side, even envisioning a future where Rick follows him into adulthood, de-aging himself so he’s around forever. Both interpretations work and they both reveal the incredibly unhealthy mindset that Morty harbors.

We see a sort of ships passing in the night as Morty accepts that Rick will never see him as irreplaceable and he should just rely on himself at the same time Rick is finally ready to claim this Morty and only this Morty as his grandson and a legitimate part of his family on equal footing as Diane and Beth C-137.

The finale doesn’t give us much insight into what we might focus on in season 8, but I suspect it might be more Morty-focused. We have seen Morty start to develop some independence in the past, but it would be nice to see Morty develop an identity outside of Rick while also learning that Rick truly sees him as part of his family.

Also, the boy desperately needs some friends his age.

#rick and morty #rick and morty season 7 #rick sanchez #morty smith #rnm #rick and morty thoughts #rick and morty spoilers #rnm season 7 #rnm spoilers #diane sanchez #fear no mort

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malichev · 3 months

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I was rewatching Philza's Live, and he joked that they had gotten the bad ending and that he had lost his house with the reset. This makes me think that, as the CC chose which buildings they want to keep, perhaps the Wall is completely gone now, after all, qPhilza was living in Rose's Sanctuary, so I imagine him choosing to save the Sanctuary and letting the wall be torn to pieces.

Foolish is also a person who said he doesn't care much about buildings, he could rebuild things easily because he likes it, so maybe he let the reset affect theirs. Maybe not destroy completely, but pieces.Although I have doubts about his reaction if something happens to the Titan. I don't know about the Brazilians, I imagine they saved the Tazercraft arenas, but I don't know if personal buildings, like Chume Labs Island, or Chume Labs itself, will come out intact. Bagi was talking about hers, that she wouldn't mind starting over, etc. I don't think that the Favela itself will be destroyed, I don't know that Ordo will survive, but I believe that if they saved the entire Favela, then everything that was in it, like Ordo, StarBobby, Cellbit Office, etc., should be saved together. And lastly, we have Cellbit's Castle, I saw a lot of people thinking how cool it would be if he and Roier had to rebuild the castles together, etc., but I'm not sure if Cellbit would want to get rid of his Castle especially because it took a lot of time to do the interior decoration, the Paranormal Rooms, it is literally impossible to redo all the rooms the same, the Chaos room is impossible. And since he'll be back doing Lore, it might not be advantageous to lose the castle. People saying he could rebuild a bigger one with extra rooms for Pepito, etc, but I think there are two better options: 1- It can expand what already exists. There was a lot of space around the castle, if he wanted to ask qFoolish for a little help, I'm sure his father-in-law would have fun. 2- He can build a new one, without having to destroy the old one, because the old one can be used for other things, for Lore work, events, etc. But in the end the CC decides, as does Roier. I don't know if Roier will keep all of his buildings, and he has A LOT.

#qsmp #qsmp brasil #qsmpbr #qsmp lore #qmsp philza #qsmp roier #qsmp cellbit #qsmp bagi #qsmp tazercraft #qsmp pac #qsmp mike #qsmp foolish #qsmp guapoduo #qsmp spiderbit #spiderbit #guapoduo #qsmp pepito

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kyaa-q · 5 months

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A Train Wreck (part 1)

Lee Know x fem!reader warnings: fluff but heavy angst and themes of abusive relationships wc: 8k>. AO3 link :) synopsis: Your life has changed a lot throughout the past 6 months, since you started dating Jun. Events lead you to slowly distance yourself from some of the people you loved the most - Stray kids. Even your friendship with Bang Chan, your closest friend, was damaged after that day. Now, you find your life to be like an unstoppable train wreck hurtling toward disaster. You're gradually losing the bonds that had always kept you sane, for a serie of events that turned your world upside down. It feels inevitable: you will crash. Could someone help you avoid the collision? Could someone take the wheel with you, and help you get control over your life again? You don't know anymore. There's only one thing you do know: you are not welcomed and Lee Know, in particular, might hate you. And his opinion about you hurts more than you wanted it to.

Or: Y/N is in an abusive relationship and ends up distancing herself from her friends (Stray Kids). She thinks everybody hates her, especially Lee Know. She doesn't understand the effect he has on her (and vice-versa).

important a/n: This work deals a lot with topics of toxic/abusive relationship. There is no physical violence, but it does show cases of emotional manipulation and the potential impacts it can have over someone. The reader is in a toxic romantic relationship (I'm sorry to all Jun's out there), and the story is basically about how it affect not only the reader herself, but also the people around her who she held dear to her heart. It does contain a lot of self-doubt, anxiety, depressive thoughts and having your world reshaped by someone else, taking down important pillars to someone's life, finally facing what it means to have been deceived and accepting it (eventually). Having said all that, if you think this is a sensitive topic to you, please proceed with caution (if you choose to do so). I suck at tagging, but I hope this note made things a little clearer. In the end, it's supposed to be a way of comforting and healing - which will come, eventually -, especially with the help of someone else. I'm not sure how long this will be, but there's still a long way to go. Also, I use "Lee Know" and "Lee Minho" interchangeably, depends on the feeling. A final note is that this chapter has a lot of flashbacks of the past, so the timelines might be confusing to some, but hopefully it is clear enough and I can convey the message and feeling I aimed for. Lots of love, everybody!

You just finished ordering when your phone rings. Your stomach drops and you catch yourself being scared that it might be your partner, Jun. It hasn’t been an hour since the fight you two had over the phone, and if you were being completely honest, you can’t even recall the exact reason for the argument. What you do recall, though, is the aggressive silence, followed by yelling, aggressive silence again, a very passive-aggressive monologue about how you simply can’t understand. Why are you making things so difficult?, a quiet rage when you tried to speak, finally ending with Jun hanging up on you. In that order, specifically.

You force yourself to analyze the conversation. You remember calmly asking him where he had been the past few days. The overreaction you got threw you off. After days of complete silence from his end, could anyone actually blame you for genuinely being intrigued? Did that mean you were you a control freak? That you did you not trust him? That had never crossed your mind, for God’s sake! You only wanted to know! It was insane what he accused you of, for simply wondering whether he was busy or something similar. Suddenly trying to justify your question as coming from a place of sadness, not control, felt like a weakness. It didn't matter nonetheless, since he had hung up so abruptly. A mix of shame and guilt engulfed you, with a hint of anger that you very consciously denied.

Before you knew it, you were outside walking without direction, just desperate to unwind your mind. You hoped the fresh spring breeze healing powers would be enough. So, you walked and walked and walked, crossing streets and taking turns mindlessly. Or so you thought. You cursed your feet when you, at last, realized where they had dragged you, spotting the JYP-Entertainment building at one corner. A few buildings away, you remind yourself, your favorite coffee shop still stood. You actively deceived yourself, claiming that that is the place your feet had been leading you all along and resuming a much more determined march. It was the craving for coffee that had brought you here, you told yourself, and not the fear of running into any of the boys.

“Ma’am?” The cashier, a boy that probably is still in school, brings you back from your daze. He has a painfully obvious worried look on his face. Do I look on the outside as shitty as I feel in the inside? The phone stops ringing and you blink, hoping your mask is good enough to pull off a relaxed demeanor.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You reach into your bag and aim for your wallet, doing your best to ignore the pity on that young boy’s eyes. Shame swirls inside your chest and you’re scared you might start crying in front of this poor kid.

You hand him the money and allow your eyes to wander around for a moment. The mechanical sounds the cash register makes are relaxing, and you take in the place you so dearly liked. You aren’t alone in the shop — in fact, it is quite busy for a Thursday afternoon. It is better this way, you think. The sensation of merging with the crowd and disappearing is welcoming. The boy hands over your change, and your phone starts ringing again.

The color of your face must have disappeared, by the look of the cashier’s face. “Can I do anything to-“

“Keep the change.” You smile once more, cutting him off. You turn around before he can finish his sentence and head to the farthest table you can spot. On your way, you wonder whether you look as pathetic on the outside as you feel on the inside. Without realizing it, you made a decision. The decision of avoiding Jun as if it could make anything better — as if it could even change anything by any means. You hated yourself for being scared, afraid of something you can’t exactly name. It couldn't be Jun. Why would it be? Apart from the occasional raised voice, he has never done anything to you. It's just a phone call, you tell yourself. If it goes downhill you can simply hang up, just like he did to you before. As simple as that. By the time you reach your seat, you're determined. This is foolish, you swear under your breath. Still, you hesitate to take the ringing phone out of your pocket — but end up doing it anyway.

The word Chris glowing on the screen feels like a cozy blanket being wrapped around your cold body. You must have audibly exhaled, perhaps muttered some thanks — whether to a higher being or to Chan himself, you're not sure — because you notice a few people turning their heads toward you . It’s okay, everybody! Everything is fine now!, you want to say. You clear your throat before answering it.

“Hey there.” Hopefully you don't sound so gloomy. You put in a double effort to sound as cheery as possible. Perhaps, if Chan believes you’re okay, you might as well just be.

“What’s wrong?” Straight to the point, you wince by the dry, clearly worried tone. Tough start.

You know Chan and the way he worries extensively about everything and everyone — not enough about himself, some would argue, but you'd slightly disagree. It’s simply part of his nature, you’ve learned. As much as you admired deeply his instinct to help, you did not want to be the object of such attention at that moment. He is a great friend – fuck, he is the best friend. In normal instances, you wouldn't hesitate before sharing your mind and soul with him. Right now, however, worrying him also meant being faced with too many questions, none of which you wanted to answer — perhaps not even knew the answer to. Not only that, you were also vaguely aware about the upcoming Stray Kids comeback in less than two months. Having witnessed the boys go through times like this firsthand before, the last thing you wanted was to add your name to the list of “Things That Keep Bang Chan Up At Night”. In reality, you knew he couldn't do anything about your situation regardless. Therefore, you conclude, worrying him would simply be counterproductive.

“Ouch. Not even a hello?” You play it off, fidgeting with your bag’s strap. You know you can't fool Chan. You shake your head to ward off the thoughts.

“Hello. What is wrong, Y/N?” He insists and you shift nervously in your chair. Your eyes travel to the cashier, who is talking to the barista, a boy as young as him, keeping them both in your line of sight. “Why didn’t you pick up the first time?” Chan questions.

“Is it that weird for me to not pick up immediately?” You joke quietly. You know Chan is not buying your act. “Actually. I think I should be the one asking you. Why do you sound so urgent? What is going on?” You deflect, but Chan doesn’t take the bait. He takes a deep breath, audibly through the speaker, and you feel bad for making things difficult for him — you really do. But you know it’s the best option. You will sort all the awkwardness in the future, hoping it won't be too late for it to have settled and stained your friendship irreversibly. You want to fill the silence, but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth.

Is it really the best option? What would be worse — telling Chan and burdening him with your own confusing problems, at least having him know what’s wrong, or avoiding talking about it? Certainly, he will sense that something is wrong, but at least he won’t feel bad for not helping if he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on.

But where to start?

Chris exhales audibly once more. “Nothing. I’m sorry.” He wants to insist, you can tell, but you’re thankful he’s holding back. “I just miss you.” He says it so softly the phone barely captures it. It hits you like a truck, and tears are rolling down your cheeks before you acknowledge them. The lump in your throat grows, and you're afraid your voice will betray you if you try to speak. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. When was the last time you came to the company?”

And it has been weeks - months, actually. You’re sure you can hear your own heart shattering like glass inside your chest. You can touch the sharp edges of the cracks and spot bruises that were supposed to have healed long ago but linger still. You miss him too. Not only Chan, but you you’re your routine with him and 3RACHA. You miss Changbin’s loud teasings and Han’s snuggles. You miss spending the hours on end holed up in a practice room with the eight of them, watching as they dance and sing and spin and fight and laugh, as if their own life depended on it. You were just a lucky spectator who has been very much avoiding the fact that you've been neglecting your most precious fortune. When did you become this mess of a person?

You’re bothering them. The male voice resonates in your mind and you close fiercely your eyes. You are not one of them, Y/N. You’re just being a nuisance all the time. Why can't you see it?

You try to stop it, but it's in vain. The memory memory comes back regardless.

“I never said I was one of them. That’s silly.” You replied as you entered the company’s elevator, followed by Jun. With your hands occupied holding plastic bags filled with snacks handpicked for each of the boys, you press the button with your elbow. “I just don’t think they see a problem with me coming over from time to time. It's not like I'm showing up every day." You glimpsed at your watch. You were early and Chris wouldn't be waiting for you. Perfect, you could surprise them. "You know, Channie was the one-“ He scoffed and you felt a puncture of guilt. “Chris.” You corrected yourself, not wanting to get into a fight because of this again. “Chris was the one who texted me asking if I was planning to come or not.” You tried to conceal the pride warming your chest with that statement.

“Maybe it’s because they just want to go home, but they can’t because there’s always the chance of you showing up out of nowhere. Have you ever thought about that?" His tone was harsh and took you by surprise. Actually… No. You have not thought about that, in fact. He inhaled deeply, massaging his temples in a sign of stress. “Of course not."

“I didn’t ask you to come.” You mumbled, fighting against the flush of shame on your cheeks. What if he's right? What if you've been bothering and annoying some of the most important people in your life this whole time, and they've just been putting up with you? Your heart sank at the thought.

“Babe.” Jun appeared in your line of sight and placed his hands on both your shoulders. "You know I'm only saying this because I love you, right? I just don’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of those people, that’s all." You tried to avoid his gaze, but he gently turned your chin and held it. "Okay?”

His voice was soft, but clear. Too loud for your ears, perhaps. The soft tone did not make it easier to absorb the painful words. It took you a moment to register that the elevator's bell had run the doors had already opened. Your partner stepped back, taking some of the bags from your hands and turning to exit. Had you been paying attention, you would've noticed the cynical smile on his face as he turned toward the figure standing at the entrance. You only registered the other party after Jun's venomous tone. “If you excuse us.”

The shadow, meanwhile, did not excuse him. He didn't move not even an inch to the side, and you caught Jun trying to pass by them smoothly - but failing. The figure didn't show to care when he bumped into him, murmuring curses under his breath that were very much audible. You turned your head and found, as already expected, Lee Know standing there. Nonchalantly, hands in the pockets of his jeans, you met his piercing dark gaze, already fixed on you - and you only. He paid as much attention to Jun as he'd do to a fleck of dust.

Although it had been about two months since you started dating Jun, all the boys had already met him. You held a habit of visiting them regularly at the company after being close to Chan for so long. Dating Jun hadn't stopped you from doing that, in fact, for some reason, he'd insist to come along. You tried questioning him if that came from a place of jealousy, but gave up after a few attempts. Mentioning Stray Kids was usually the motive for big arguments, which never led anywhere. Coming to the company to hang out obviously gave Jun as much amusement as he’d get from attending a seminar on top 10 best lore of teenager’s movies, and it was up to him how he spent his time. You actively did your best to dismiss his mean comments about the most insane things, be it the lightening of the place or the paint color they chose to paint this one specific wall or the supposed secretary’s rudeness. Every aspect of the building had something wrong with it that deserved a specific remark about it. Jun had learned not to make any unpleasant comments about - or even to - the boys. That was the only instance you would not let slide. In return, you learned to let him rant about how god damn cold or hot or crowded or empty the building was.

You never told Chan - or anyone, for that matter - about it. Practically any of the members, even Chris himself, had ever explicitly stated whether they liked or disliked Jun, and you never asked them directly. They maintained an awkwardly polite demeanor in Jun’s presence. At least they tried to keep it civilized, even when Jun was being difficult. Well, practically because there was one exception.

Lee Minho clearly disliked your boyfriend, and the feeling was mutual from day one. The first day Jun came along and you introduced him to your friends, they were all respectful and dealt fairly well with Jun’s special ironic remarks. Minho, on the other hand, had withdrawn into a state of heavy silence and deadly stares that alternated between you and Jun. You tried to ignore it, initially, not giving it too much thought. That was until Minho questioned, in a very audible and shameless, almost whiny voice, 'Ah, Hyung! When is this thing leaving? It’s so annoying.'

Before you could decide whether you’d argue with Minho or Jun, your short-tempered partner was already looking, outraged, for the source of the voice. You grabbed his arms and tried to drag him toward the door, saying goodbye to the boys with a hasty 'Yes, I’ll see you soon! Take care!' And, 'Let’s go, Jun, we have to—'

But as you left the room, both you and Jun saw that Minho had stood up and was leaning proudly against the wall. His deadly stare had followed you to the exit and you caught when the shadows on his face gave place to a malicious smile forming on his lips. He was looking at Jun, as he gave a tiny wave, somehow a sign of imminent violence. Just before you closed the door, you couldn't stop the shiver running down your spine when you noticed he was staring at you. You couldn't read what they said, but your stomach churned nonetheless.

Minho was the primary target of your boyfriend’s distaste ever since, and a common fight motive. Jun had always been the type to overthink, but it was ridiculously worse when it came to Lee Know - which was tragically hilarious. From all the eight, he had chosen Lee Minho to pick on? You'd try to argue, but his reply would always come to You can’t be this blind. It was maddening, always as if you were both arguing about two completely different things.

Thus, you weren't surprised to find Lee Know in front of you - that particular mocking tone coming from Jun in If you excuse us, would only be used with Minho. What did surprise you, however, was Minho himself. Standing as still as a statue in front of you, the man emanated annoyance and deep displeasure. His dark eyes exuded an anger you were certain you could touch. It made the air surrounding you heavier and colder. The chill reflected in your stomach as your face grew hotter. You couldn't look away, as if you were under a spell - and perhaps you were. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream, to run, or to hide. Maybe all three options. The knowledge you were the reason behind this anger was as clear as running fresh water, and it gave you goosebumps. Somehow, it wasn’t a question. You didn’t know what you could’ve done to trigger such fierce feelings from Lee Know. Although his feelings were as transparent as clean glass, you were unable to read his thoughts. Honestly, you weren’t sure you even wanted to.

How long it passed, you couldn’t tell. How long you stood there, pitiful and unable to move or look away, a mess of flushed face and glassy eyes, remains unclear to you to this day. What was very clear even at that time, however, was the shadow of disappointment you spot on the vastness of his deep dark eyes the moment before he turned around. He walked to the opposite direction of the hallway without saying a word. The abrupt withdraw left bad taste in your mouth. The spell was broken and you could breathe again, but the air was too icy in your lungs, making you wonder whether it'd be better to go back underwater - to be back under his gaze. That shadow of disappointment in his eyes persisted like an annoying fly you couldn’t shoo away, accompanied by a heavy weight in your chest.

“What the fuck was that?” The angry whisper suddenly reminded you that you weren’t alone. You might as well have been, though. The world could have ended and the universe collapsed at that very moment, and yet, staring into Lee Know’s eyes, you knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Under his gaze, you wouldn’t have noticed anyone but you and him. Your eyes followed the dark spot going down the corridor, until the moment he finally took a turn and disappeared completely. You collapsed against the elevator’s wall, finally breathing in as deep as you could until your lungs ache. Hold for one. Two. Three. Four. Exhale.

“Hello? What the fuck Y/N?” For a moment you considered yelling at Jun. You felt your nerves on the surface of your skin, and your heartbeat was distractingly loud in your head.

“I don’t know.” You breathed out, realizing that, in fact, you didn't have energy to fight. Your legs were unsteady and you realized your hands were shaking. The fog in your mind dissipated a little, and the pleas in your mind for Minho to come back died out. You tighten the grip on the left bags on your hands and push yourself forward. In automatic mode, you got out the elevator and headed to the first and closest safe place your mind could think of: 3RACHA’s Studio.

Perhaps you should have realized that you were heading in the same direction you had just seen him go, only a few minutes before. That you would, unavoidably, end up facing Lee Know again - although 3RACHA’s Studio wasn’t the only active room on that floor, that was the most obvious conclusion to arrive at. Maybe you knew it, unconsciously. Today, you wonder if you didn’t turn back that day simply because following Minho was like an instinct. You were confused, sad and scared, but still, going to Minho felt as natural as searching for a shelter during a storm. In this case, Minho was both the storm and the shelter. You should’ve turned your back and gone home, but you didn’t. Your mind was a hurricane of confusing feelings and images that, in the end, returned to the same name being chanted again and again. Lee Know Lee Know Lee Know.

Jun kept saying things you didn’t register. His voice was just a bit more than an agitated whisper, and you wished he would just shut up. Or even better, stayed at home. The doubts and fears resurfaced and you couldn’t shake them away. What if he was right? What if what had just happened was a statement of how much you annoyed and bothered this people?

Did they hate you that much?

As this last thought crossed your mind, a loud thud echoed, followed by a harsh voice. You froze, realizing it was emanating from 3RACHA’s Studio, and the door was half-open.

“Why is it still going on? It’s ridiculous!” It was… Minho? Could it be? You had never seen him raise his voice in anger - at least not seriously. It was unmistakably Minho, but the so intense anger was foreign to you. You couldn’t place it to the so coldhearted and detached person that Minho had always shown.

“YA! Don’t go around slamming things!” Changbin’s scolding came even louder, followed by mumbles you thought was Han's, but they were too muffled by the distance and walls to be sure.

They were fighting. They were very seriously fighting, and the realization sank in.

You should run. Run run run. Something was so clearly and deeply wrong. You should not be here. Now. Run.

Your members didn't follow your mind’s orders, and you caught yourself frozen in place.

You couldn’t move.

Your eyes snapped to your left, where Jun started moving. The sparkle of hope was extinguished when you realized he was moving forward, and not back to the elevator. He took one step closer to the door, and then another. Slowly, but surely trying to get a better listen. This isn't right.

“What do you want us to do, Minho?” Chan’s voice was also alien. The hasty, firm and contained anger just didn’t fit his patient personality. “Should we yell at her? That’s your solution?”

Her. Obviously this was about you. The word solution haunts you to this day, but even back then, the harm was starting to settle in. The need of a solution arises from the existence of a problem. You. In the end, you were the problem they were looking for a solution for.

“I can’t do this.” It was Lee Know again. Although his voice was much lower, it was as clear as it would’ve been if you were in that room with them. Pain and exhaustion overflowed from his words, and you felt their weight on your own face, in the form of tears that welled up and streamed down nonstop. His agony was overwhelming, and you felt as if your own heart was a broken dam. “I can’t, Hyung.” It was getting harder to understand his words - not only for the walls muffling them, but also for your own heartbeat was deafening. For a moment, you considered whether they could hear it too.

You sized your options. First, you could casually knock on the door and hand them the bags – somehow still in your hands –, then find an excuse to leave right after. Oh, sorry! I’m super busy, just wanted to give you guys these. No, it’s fine! Enjoy! It could work. Except the atmosphere inside was beyond intimidating. You would never be able to put on such an act that convinced them you weren't listening. The second option was simply leaving the bags in front of the door and leaving instantly. You shook your head, discarding the idea as soon as it happened. Leaving without saying a word would be a clear statement that you heard them, then felt bad and left. While it was precisely what had happened, you did not want them to know that. No, you couldn’t bear having Chan forcibly explaining to you in which ways you were a problem to the boys. The fact that he felt this way - or at least knew the others did - and had not talked to you prior stung at the back of your brain. Lastly, you could just leave. Dragging Jun and all the bags, you would leave no traces behind and, hopefully, Minho would think you didn’t even leave the elevator. Maybe he would think you had seen him and finally realized you were not welcome, then you had made the smartest choice – the one you should definitely have taken – and had gone straight home. He would ignore it and not mention it and-

Shouts suddenly pulled out from of your daze.

“GONE! OUT OF HERE! OUT OF MY FUCKING SIGHT!” Someone vociferated, followed by the sounds of a chair being dragged and steps. You grabbed Jun's hand and started pulling him after you before you even register doing the action. Desperately going back to the direction you both came from, you prayed to find an unlocked door before anyone heard your footsteps and plastic sounds. Not sure how, your pleas were quickly answered. In a moment of despair, trying to open an unknown door, you pushed both you and Jun inside the empty dark room. Shortly afyer you shut the door and locked it, hoping the thud noise went unnoticed.

“Are you crazy?” As soon as he started, you dropped all the plastic bags and covered his mouth with both hands. You closed your eyes – to avoid the tears that threatened to spill or to hear if anyone had left the studio and came after you, you didn’t know. Regardless, you couldn’t hear anything over your heartbeat and a high buzz in your ears.

“Y/N?” You blink, coming back to the present. You open your eyes, and the barista is in front of your table holding your coffee. You notice his uncomfortable gaze and blush in embarrassment, murmuring thanks and apologies as he hands you the cup and leaves. He must’ve called you and you didn’t hear, giving him extra trouble to leave his spot and hand it to you personally.

It can also be due the tears flowing uninterruptedly on your face. Who knows.

You look at the black screen on your hand, laying on your lap now. You unlock your phone and blink to try to clean your vision from the tears, regardless, there is no new notifications. You can't recall the conversation with Chan exactly - if it could even be called a conversation. You don't know whether it was you or Chan who hung up, or even if you got to say goodbye. Had he noticed you crying?

You stare at the ceiling, doing your best to stop the tears. That was the last time you went to the company, and that was months ago. You miss Chan. You miss Changbin and Han. You miss spending the afternoon simply watching them working on music. You miss how they were loud and lively and intense. You miss how you felt when you were with them, and knowing that the feeling was only one sided broke your heart in ways you have no idea how to heal. You can’t shake the feeling of losing them - it seemed inevitable, and you wanted to scream.

You don't know why you act the way you do - running away since then. Evidently, it wouldn't magically make things right again. It wouldn't wipe out your memories of that day, or care less, for that matter. Some of the dearest people in your life thought of you as a problem to be solved, and it simply hurt. Minho’s anger and disdain were far too ingrained in your brain. You’ve been ignoring the acute pain that always followed remembering his exasperation and fury. Gone, he had shouted at the top of his lungs. He wanted you gone and couldn’t fathom why no one had talked to you yet. Honestly, it's hard for you to not question the same.

Something very solid and real had broken inside you that day. Your attempt to pretend nothing happened was reinforced by the fact that, that day, Minho had, indeed, did what you hoped he would do. You texted Chan a little after, apologizing for not showing up, and he didn't say anything about you being there. Minho hadn’t told them about meeting you, and you felt relieved – maybe you could work things out by yourself, without having to make things even harder for them. You still didn't know how - but you planned on finding out.

The weeks that followed that incident were a messy blur. Thankfully, Jun didn’t mind your absentmindedness. It didn't bother him – interacting was an action that had to come from your end, and, since your mind was preoccupied with something else, he wouldn’t even try pulling you out from your thoughts. You couldn’t focus on anything else for too long, your thoughts would always, somehow, end on Minho’s resentment. On Minho's angry pleas to the winds for you to go away. On Minho's eyes. On Minho. Minho. It drove you mad. You felt bad and didn't want to admit you resented Chan a little. As you learned, asking Jun for advice proved to be completely unhelpful – in fact, it made things worse most of times. The situation was as clear as crystal to him: the boys were busy people, while you were someone desperately clinging to their attention, and, in the end, it saturated them. They were also not assholes - except that guy, he'd add - and that’s why they had been trying to give you hints. Then, you could arrive at the conclusion yourself, and there wouldn't be a need to go through the confrontational phase. Unfortunately, you hadn’t done your part and didn’t read between the lines, that's why you stood where you did. Why are you so upset about it? Fuck them! I never liked those guys anyway, and variations would usually put an end to the "conversation".

At work, however, you didn’t have the comfort of having your absentmindedness be dismissed. That was quickly noticeable not only by your clients and colleagues, but also by your manager. He was a patient man, but seemed to be in a permanent state of exhaustion and you guessed that's what capitalism did to a person. He never raised his voice and treated employees as human beings – an unprecedented event according to your own experience -, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have the company as top priority. He tried to listen and help, but wouldn’t hesitate to fire someone if they messed up. The first time you were called to his office, he questioned, impassive, about the embarrassing decline in your productivity. He didn’t seem exactly worried - employees had ups and downs all the time. You tended to overwork yourself, and, although you weren't the employee of the month, you knew you did a good job overall - so did your superior. “It’s just proceeding, you know?”

The downs persisted, unfortunately, and two weeks later you were called again. This time, his approach was more assertive and concerned.

“You can’t stay like this, Y/N.” He turned the monitor on his desk to face you, showing the numbers you had missed the last 15 days. “What is going on?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You bowed deeply one more time, having no explanations or justifications for your bad performance. You couldn’t tell your manager you had your confidence undermined, that you were questioning every single act and interaction you had. You couldn’t tell your superior how deeply you missed your friends, missed love and hugs and affection and care. You missed yourself. You couldn’t tell him about the constant presence in your head that kept saying you were doing everything wrong. Everything. All your achievements, be they your job or your relationships - all of them were product of luck and you clearly weren’t good enough to keep them. Chan instantly came to mind. Even though he was texting you regularly, you couldn't get rid of the overwhelming sadness gripping your neck and kept your replies short. Obviously he had noticed, but respected your space - he stopped asking what was wrong after the first week. Knowing him, it was good that he didn’t know where you live, and that his own job kept him busy through day and night, or else you were certain he would’ve shown up at your door already. “It’s all my fault and I am deeply sorry I am bringing losses to the company and-"

“Y/N.” Your manager cut you, “When was the last time you slept?”

Confused, you blinked. “Excuse me?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That answers it. You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m fine.” You raised your hands in surrender. “I promise, I don’t need to-“

“You can be a lot of things, Y/N. Sleep-deprived. Careless. Stressful. Anything but fine.” You flinched on the bluntness.

“Don’t you mean stressed?” You mumbled, embarrassed, trying to play off a joke.

“No, I said what I meant. Stressful. I cannot go on even for one more day if I look at my window one more time and see you staring blankly at your hands for God knows how long.” Before you could protest, he stopped you again. “I’m serious. I can’t afford the trouble of having an employee passing out because of lack of sleep. Take the rest of the day off and go to the hospital to get checked up. Come back tomorrow with the results in hand stating you are not dying or turning into a damn zombie.”

Left with no choice, you headed to the hospital. The feeling of guilt lingered in your chest a little, wondering if the insomniac nights were obvious in the dark bags under your eyes, if your anxiety was that evident in your eyes, words and walking.

You expected your health to be in check. You were certain modern medicine wasn’t capable of curing broken hearts yet – unfortunately. In worst case scenario, you’d probably walk out with a prescription to help you sleep and that’d be all. You took a deep breath before going in.

“Y/N?!”

Your body reacted before your mind and your eyes snapped in the direction of the source – Chris. He was already walking toward you, emerging from inside the huge building you had been staring at. You wondered if you were finally at the stage of hallucinations, and perhaps it was good it was happening next to a hospital - but this thought soon evaporated. Before you registered your own actions, you were also walking toward him, falling into the so missed and familiar hug your heart ached for.

It was the first time meeting Chan in almost a month. Usually, it wouldn’t have been a big thing, but it was for you. Your heart had been bleeding out for the past four weeks, and you hadn’t found a way to stop the pain. Chris was instant medicine, one that you had been actively depriving yourself of. You allowed yourself to be selfish for a moment. It was okay if you disturbed them and if you were an overall headache to them. In that moment, though, it was just you and Chris. You let yourself to believe that the love and appreciation you received from him were as real as they felt.

“Hi.” You murmured against his chest, inhaling his familiar perfume. His body vibrated with a chuckle, backing off just enough to look you in the eyes.

It was short, but you saw when the fun and joyful semblance turned into a concerned expression. You thought you sensed Chan becoming rigid, stiffening the hold on your shoulders just a little, as if you could run away if he let you. You remembered how you awfully sick and tired you might look. “How are yo-“

“I’m fine.” You cut off him, not being able to hold back a smile. “Do I look that terrible?”

He shifted, trying to cover up for his shameless stare. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

Your smile widened; it was so easy to mess with him. “I’m just joking. I’m really fine, though.”

He glanced at you suspiciously. You could’ve well said you won the Olympics, and a quick look at you was enough to say that both of those things – being fine and winning the Olympics – were equally unlikely. And you didn’t account for the fact he had caught you standing in front of a hospital, just about to go in. Then it clicked, a hospital he just walked out of.

“Wait, what were you doing there? Are you okay?” It was your time to shamelessly look for wounds and signs that could hint if there was anything wrong with Chris. You noticed his clothes – shorts and a black long-sleeve shirt, it’s not something he’d normally wear outside, and rather stay inside working or even practicing.

He laughed shortly. “I am fine. Jeongin had an accident during practice and-“

“Jeongin had an accident?” Your voice was high pitched. Your eyes shifted to the entrance, past Chan, and you tensed, afraid you could see a badly hurt I.N.

“He is fine, Y/N.” He put his hand on the top of your head and turned it back to him. Looking into his eyes, you searched but found no traces of lying. Indeed, Chan looked quite chill, given the circumstances. “We feared he had a strained ligament or something, but he’s fine. I'll still hurt for the next few days, for sure. But he'll survive."

You breathed out in relief. “That’s great.” The story also explained his clothes.

Chan smiled at your concern. “Actually, they should be here at any minute now.” He glanced at the watch on his wrist.

“They?” You looked at him puzzled, but as if waiting for its cue, a loud calling Hyung! drew his attention.

When he turned around, keeping one hand gently on your elbow, he stepped aside and gave you a clear vision of the hospital's entrance.

Your heart caught in your throat. It wasn’t the imagery of an injured Jeongin, who limped just a little toward you and Chan, using a crutch to support his body. Oblivious, you didn’t even notice the way he was happily surprised to see you after so long, his dimples showing even after he had just left the hospital.

No. In all honesty, you had barely registered Jeongin’s presence at all at first. Instead, your eyes met with the figure following him, just slightly behind. The simplicity of the large white shirt and gray sweatpants would have made anyone else look comfortable, casual at most – but Lee Know wasn’t just anyone else. He wasn’t just comfortable or casual. He was so goddamn attractive - he was hot, you dared. His dark hair was even longer than it was the month prior, falling a little on his eyes depending on the movement of his face, and you had the urge to place a lock behind his ear.

He stopped walking suddenly, his gaze locking with yours. In that moment you knew the word that best described Minho: breathtaking – quite literally.

It lasted for a moment. Chan called for I.N and Minho started walking in your direction. Your eyes instantly deviated from his, and you forced yourself to focus on the maknae, rather than the burning stare coming from Minho or the blood flow running in your ears.

“Y/N!” Jeongin smile was contagious.

“Hey there, baby bread! How are you feeling?” You wanted to hug him, but you were unsure about his injuries, so you chose to stick with the smiling. Lee Know caught up to you all and placed himself by Jeongin's side.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious.” You saw him blushing. “This thing helps," he jiggled the crutch, "but it makes it seem way worse than it actually is. Ice will do just fine.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Innie”. You smiled at him, and he smiled back. Keeping your hands in front of your body, highly conscious - conscious of your posture, choice of clothes, and greasy hair. You felt like a prey being watched by a predator – but choosing to avoid the predator’s eyes instead.

“What’s wrong with you?” Although Minho’s voice didn’t carry any resentment or accusation, you still winced. The sensation was like having a burnt hand and then someone grabbing it and placing it under a stream of cold water for relief. Yes, the relief would come right after, but first came the moment of shock and instinct to move away, before realizing how much you needed the cold water (his voice?) to relieve the pain of your burnt hand (your heart?).

“Come on, Lino. That’s not how you greet people.” Chan began, glancing at you apologetically. Unable to ignore him any longer, you let your eyes shift towards him.

His expression was a mystery, as hard as if it were sculpted in marble. Minho's face revealed no emotions, nor did his words. The bluntness could be mistaken by indifference, still his gaze was intense, making it hard to breathe and sending chills down your spine.

“Why would anything be wrong?” You questioned. Your voice somehow didn’t shake, and you hope you didn’t look as affected as you felt.

“Because I have eyes.” You felt your face growing hotter. “And because you are in front of a hospital. What is wrong?” A sparkle of defiance lit in your chest – you owed him nothing. In fact, last time you checked, Lee Minho had made it very clear he did not want to see you.

“That’s not nice, Minho.” Chan scolded him, more fiercely this time.

“No, Chan.” You began, smiling warmly at Chris. He had so much on his shoulders already, you wouldn’t let Minho become another topic of trouble for him. “I’m fine, Minho. I’m here only to get checked up. Routine, that’s all.” You sustained his gaze with one of your own, hands held in fist so tight you’d later find red marks on your palms.

Minho raised a brow, almost mocking your poor explanation. The maknae spoke before him, “Are you sure you are well, Y/N?” The gentleness appeased your heart.

“You have to be joking.” Lee Know scoffed, apparently to himself but audibly to all of you. He was infuriating, daring to demand answers he had absolutely no right over! Why was he pressing on this? Why did it matter, anyway? Before you launched on him, Chan spoke.

“Okay! We’re done here.” He felt the weird energy between you two and wanted to prevent a war. “The driver is waiting for us, we need to go back. I.N, can you walk by yourself?”

“Yes, Hyung.” The maknae responded, particularly confused for the sudden shift but not daring to ask any questions.

Chan clapped “Okay, great. Minho, let’s-“

“I’m staying.” Minho said simply, placing himself by your side. Both you and Chan turned your heads to him abruptly.

“You are what?” You stepped away from him in disbelief. Your voice was a little higher than you wished. His face remained impassive, but there was something in his eyes that you quite put your finger on. “No, you are not.”

“Oh, come on. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” He exasperated.

You tried to sense his motives, but it made so little sense that it was hard to put some logic into it. Did he get some twisted pleasure from upsetting you? It could be. But again, not a month had passed after the incident at the company. Back then, the sight of you had triggered as far as rage in him. But even now, he didn't look exactly the type of person that was getting any satisfaction from being in your presence.

Chan’s tone was serious. “Minho,” His eyes left yours and shifted to the oldest, changing his demeanor in a bit. His posture was rigid, but his gaze carried a determined defiance. “What is going on?”

Minho pointed at you without adverting his eyes from Chan. You gasped angrily, about to protest, but he didn’t give you the space. “She is going on, hyung. Look at her. If not for the obvious signs of being ill, then for the fact she’s missing work to come to the hospital.”

You argued. “I’m missing work because my boss told me to!"

“Which only proves my point.” He continued, letting his hand fall right by his side. “Something is so obviously wrong that it was up to her boss to step in, or else I doubt she’d come by herself.”

Ouch. “Listen." You interrupted. "I don't know what's going on with you, but you’re making it way bigger than it actually is. I am okay and I most definitely do not need your help.” You glanced at Chris, but his attention was still directed to Minho. You could see the gears working in his head, but you decided it was time to leave. “It was great seeing you guys. I mean it. But I really don't have time for this. If you excuse me.” You turned your back and tried to leave, but in vain. Not even two steps later did a hand wrap around one of your wrists. Minho’s hold was gentle, but firm, and you tried to hide de burning in your cheeks. “YA!”

He pulled you closer than you were before, and his voice was deeper when he spoke. “How long has it been since you last saw your boyfriend?” You were dizzy. The sudden shift in subject, accompanied by the warmth Minho's hand transmitted to your wrist and the disdain he had put into the word 'boyfriend,' clouded your thinking.

“Jun?” You blinked, trying to disperse the fog, but the scent of his perfume was inebriating. Minho was too close. “I saw him yesterday.”

“You saw him yesterday?” Minho’s voice had a hint of disbelief, and he searched for lies in your eyes. You saw him becoming tense, and you prepared to feel his grip tightening, but the hold on your wrist remained the same. “Are you sure?”

“What?! Of course I am sure! What kind of question is that?” Angrily, you pulled your wrist away from his grasp. He let you, keeping his stare a little longer. “What is wrong with you?!” You turned your eyes to Chris, begging a way out of this insanity. You caught I.N behind him, almost as uncomfortable with the scene as you were. Chan sustained Minho’s gaze for a moment, and your eyes darted between the two of them. No words were spoken, but obviously they weren't needed. The silent conversation through telepathy or whatever the sorcery clearly didn't include you.

After what seemed like forever, Chan sighed, defeated. “Okay. Y/N," he turned to you. "do you mind if he accompanies you?”

“What?! This is madness! Of course I mind. I’m not a child!” You begged.

“It’s not that, sweetheart.” He got closer and you let him when he pulled you to a hug. “We’re just worried about you. We all know you’re very much capable of taking care of yourself.” He added the last phrase when he felt you were about to protest. “We just want to make sure you are okay and can go home safely afterwards.”

“I can do this by myself.” You mumbled.

“I know, I know. But Lee Know can’t. He won’t be able to rest if he doesn’t make sure you’re safe and sound.” He kissed your forehead. “And my mind will also be at ease if I know you’re with him.”

After a moment, you sighed. “Fine.” You accepted reluctantly, stepping away as Chan positioned himself next to the waiting maknae.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re amazing. Lemme know how things go, yea?” Chan’s warm smile was impossible to be angry about. You nodded with your head and waved a tiny goodbye to I.N and watched them walk away.

Lee Know, didn't move an inch throughout the entire time. When you turned to him, somehow, he seemed relaxed. Even his eyes had changed. Although they still carried a wince of something unknown - similar to concern but deeper in a way -, they were calmer. They were almost… gentle. It could’ve made you mad. He had made a huge thing out of nothing, stressed both you and Chris, and now dared to look at you with tenderness in his eyes. You exhaled, knowing it'd be pointless to yell at him. You were exhausted and had no energy spared to bicker. His motives was still undisclosed, but perhaps they weren’t important right now. You decided that your main task was to get whatever prescription as easily as possible, and then have a doctor to state you were not about to collapse. Then, not only would it solve the matter with your boss, but also it meant you would finally get rid of the man in front of you.

Okay, that sounds like a plan.

“Shall we?” Minho reached out his hand with an overly soft voice. You rolled your eyes.

"Weirdo." You cursed under your breath and avoided his hand, heading, finally, straight to the entrance. You did take note of the small chuckle he let out, and how he smoothly followed you behind.

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic

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