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saerins · 1 year

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─── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

+ sae x f!reader | wc 5.3k

notes: i’m in love with this man, and wrote this on a whim :’) hope y’all like it !! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3

summary: you’ve known sae since you were both sixteen. he’s always dreamed of going overseas and facing the world, will he ever be ready to come home?

𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓��𝐄𝐍

sae can read almost everyone flawlessly, you included.

he’s not close to you, not at all. physically? yes, because you’re his seat partner. but in all other aspects? no, definitely not.

you’re scared of him, he can tell. whenever he moves, you get self-conscious, immediately pulling your own chair in, giving him way. then you check on him as he moves away, because you’re scared that somehow you’ve managed to offend him.

you never did. because to offend sae, you’d need to be someone who can even bother him in the first place.

sae doesn’t care about what you do though, he just happens to notice you. out of convenience, because he sees you every monday to friday and sits next to you for every class.

it’s the same routine thing every week—you sit next to each other, barely say a word all day and then before he knows it, it’s the end of school day.

it doesn’t even matter. you don’t matter.

nobody really does.

he peeks at you out of the corner of his eyes, your eyes peering down at your paper with the utmost concentration. he quickly looks away though, because the last thing he wants is to get caught and be labeled as a cheater on a history quiz. especially when he’s not cheating.

yeah, you really don’t matter.

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

soccer, soccer, soccer.

that’s all sae can think of nowadays. just do whatever he can to improve his skills, everything else is up for debate.

you’re still his seatmate, still ever so distant. he gives you credit though, for greeting him every morning now even though you look terrified and nervous all the time.

“good morning.”

today is no exception. sae’s eyes flick up to you and then back down to his desk, and that’s all of the acknowledgement you get, as usual. it’s nothing personal, he just doesn’t want to get into small talk at all.

but he’ll give you points for trying, even if he doesn’t exactly know what’s going through your head right now. somehow, he can’t read you as well anymore.

that’s how you usually are now, the newer version of you. a little more upbeat, a little friendlier, less awkward but still as shy as he first pegged you to be.

well, now you’re just slightly more amusing. somehow, sae starts to find himself wondering how you’d react to different situations.

it’s almost the middle of the school year and you’d kept up with your usual greetings everyday. sae keeps up with his usual stoic demeanour on his part.

until today.

“good morning!” you’re extra chirpy today, he notices.

sae blinks at you once, twice, and you’re still smiling at him, and he’d like to know whether you’re still that same nervous mess inside, so he opens his mouth this time.

“morning, y/n.”

simple, easy, basic courtesy.

but somehow you’re looking at him as though he’s a fucking freak.

to be fair, that’s exactly what he expected. but it’s now been a whole minute and you’re still staring dumbly at him.

“what?”

you shake your head, laughing sheepishly as you take your seat beside him, “nothing, it’s just… you never bothered talking to me before.”

sae shrugs, because it’s not like he bothers now, per se. he’s just—what’s the word—bored? “i can shut up too if you prefer that.”

“no!”

you look so embarrassed by your quick outburst that sae almost snickers. that’s the most reaction you’ve nearly managed to get out of him yet.

“i mean,” you stutter, looking for the right words to say, and maybe sae is getting a little bit of an ego boost right now because he can tell you’re flustered. “you’re pretty terrifying most of the time so…”

he knows what you mean, but he acts like he doesn’t. “oh, so you like terrifying? okay, i can do that.”

the way your face instantly switches to a straight expression is fucking amusing, and for a split second his guard falls and you get to hear him snicker.

luckily, the bell rings right after and mr hayato is never late. sae never got to hear what you thought of that.

every single day after that passes by a little bit easier, your non-friendship inching a little closer together, sae might even consider you an acquaintance now.

he converses with you a lot more fluidly (as much as he allows himself to—he doesn’t like you being too comfortable, likes to keep you on your toes), and he finds himself teaching you things he notices you’re absolutely horrible at.

like logarithms, because no matter how much you try to wrap your head around it, you refuse to ask anyone for help. you’re a little stubborn, but sae can live with that, just has to speak to you in a way that doesn’t seem like you look like you need help.

“no, you’re forgetting that the log of e is always one, there, see?” sae sighs as he explains, because you’re quite muddle-headed. “it’ll be much easier once you get all the definitions in your head.”

“were you born a genius or something?” you ask innocently upon catching his test scores. a 94 out of 100, compared to your 63.

that day, neither of you notice the fact that other people are beginning to notice your growing friendship.

sae starts tutoring you whenever he can, because apparently you’re hopeless without his help. (he says this to your face. he’s always straight with you.) and then he finds himself noticing you in ways he never did before.

how you look absolutely angelic when the sun hits your face. he notices the way you puff out your cheeks when you’re thinking hard. even the perfume that wafts through the air. you smell good.

this is ridiculous.

“hun, do you want any—”

fuck. sae’s head whips around to see an older woman at your door, almost a carbon copy of you, eyes wide as her gaze falls onto him.

no, he’s not particularly nervous or feels like he should be, but something tells you if your mother is anything like you, she’d misunderstand. this is just a lot more trouble than it’s worth. you’re a lot more trouble than it’s worth. what’s he even getting out of tutoring you?

“oh hi there! and who might you be?”

he can see stars in her eyes, all hopeful and excited as she shifts her gaze between you and sae and back to you again.

“mom! he’s no one—” ouch, he’s tutoring you and you introduce him as no one? “a friend and he’s tutoring me for some math stuff so could you…?”

it’s like the gears are turning in your mother’s head when she eyes sae knowingly. god, he has to do some damage control. don’t want either of you expecting anything much out of him.

“i’m itoshi sae,” he introduces himself, shaking her hand. “i just make time to tutor some of my classmates to earn extra credit.”

not even close to true, but neither of you need to know that. he’d much rather spend his free time getting in some training or going to the gym but he decided maybe he could spend a few hours out of today to help your dumbass with numbers.

he’s an expert at sidestepping small talk and in no time at all, your mother’s out of the room. you still seem embarrassed, he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks.

“concentrate,” sae sighs, and he wonders why he’s even doing this for you. he’d rather go home right now, he thinks, maybe kick the ball around with rin, or just lie down in bed because waking up at 4am to train every morning is taking its toll.

you mumble a hushed apology and rub the sleepiness from your eyes. the both of you had been at this for a couple of hours now, maybe looking at numbers too much is making you tired too.

sae acknowledges you’re a fast learner though, if you have a proper teacher. he’s not surprised that ms kina’s teachings are lost on you—she’s not that good at explaining concepts. sae is, though. he usually doesn’t bother sharing but hey, maybe now is just a glitch in the matrix, maybe now he’s just trying to do good samaritan things and help you out so you don’t fail the damn midterm test.

“okay then, see you,” he says, picking up his bag and slinging it around his shoulders, only to have you grab his wrist. “what?”

you look a little bashful once you realise what you did, and then you let go of him immediately. you look like you really want to say something, but you don’t, you just shake your head.

don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.

sae’s putting his bag back down before he knows it, and he groans internally. “say it.”

“if-if you don’t mind, maybe we could schedule a tutoring session every week?” you’re so, so timid and so, so soft.

he blinks once, twice, realising what you actually mean to say. you don’t want the tutoring session, apart from logarithms you’re fine with pure numbers, but you want time. with him.

it boosts his ego a little, if he’s being honest.

“i’m too busy with my soccer trainings,” he tells you, nonchalant until he sees how quick your expression falls and then he has to hate himself for continuing, “i have some time on friday evenings though.”

like a puppy, you’re instantly chirpy again, saying how maybe he could tutor you after he’s done with whatever stuff, and how you’d get a head start and grab some seats at a cafe or something.

you’re both seventeen when your weekly tutoring sessions start. it’s beyond himself why he agreed. all he knows is that he doesn’t particularly like being the reason your expression goes sad.

first week in, you’re still too nervous, too jumpy.

the second week, you’re a little too full of nonsense, daring to laugh at him, or with him, depending.

by the fifth week, your bare arm is already brushing his and you’re not even flinching.

you’re both seventeen when sae realises that maybe he cares for you. in the way lovers do. in the way he gets you to walk on the safer side of the sidewalk. in the way he sends you home every friday. in the way he actually responds to your goodnight texts and wakes up waiting for your good morning.

in the way he listens when you tell him that your mother is actually sick, that you want to take care of her. that your dream is simple—to find your passion one day, and to be able to earn enough to let your mother live peacefully, to help her fight whatever she has to because you don’t want her to be alone.

in the way, for the first time in his life, he reaches out to you, putting his hand on top of yours as he lets you cry on his shoulder.

your birthday falls on a friday this year, and he tells you not to bring your books that day in class. you look at him with pure shock, but then quickly adjust yourself and bring up a grateful smile.

“yes, sir.”

that night he meets you up on the rooftop of your complex, in the middle of the carpark, and you’ve never looked any happier than you did when you saw him holding that petite round galaxy cake in his hands, the sparkler candles so pretty in the night.

“happy birthday.”

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

the next school year starts and sae enters into it still close to you as ever. you haven’t met in just over a month, what with sae’s intense training camps and your family holiday. but the both of you still talk to each other daily, and he finds himself waiting for your response every night.

it’s like the both of you are in a relationship, but neither of you are saying anything about it. whatever this relationship-non-relationship is, sae thinks he likes it.

but it’s barely three months into the school year and sae has to break your heart.

“it’s the opportunity of a lifetime, i’m sure you understand right?” his coach rambles on, disgusting with how he’s talking with his mouth full and chips keep falling out of it.

sae nods, because he does. he’s almost sure he’ll go for it. it’s not everyday kids from japan get offered a spot to play for a european club.

“great! so let’s get your parents involved and get you to spain.”

“yeah, sure.”

it’s frustrating how he’s not more excited. it’s there, but it’s faint, because it’s lingering on the traces of his feelings for you. he’s never really thought this far, and maybe that was his fault. he’ll keep that in mind; he can’t risk this situation again. he can’t risk getting your hopes up and being the reason that they’ll never recover.

minimise damage, yeah, that’s what he has to do.

you go from talking endlessly in class to being quiet because sae is trying to concentrate. you go from meeting every friday outside of school to every other friday, to once every month, to none at all. you go from texting a good morning and a goodnight every day to barely getting responses from sae, barely ever even get your messages read.

then one day sae just doesn’t show up to school at all. and you finally hear that he’s been scouted for a club in spain, that he’s going to be away for god knows how long. and then you realise that maybe that’s why he’s been distant lately, because you refuse to believe that the sae who took so much time out of his busy schedule for you, the sae who made the effort to buy you a birthday cake and spend all night on the carpark just listening to you talk on and on about insignificant things because you were nervous, the sae who you fell in love with—you refuse to believe it wasn’t real.

that’s why you hold your hopes up and ride your bicycle to his house, which you’ve been to once before, just outside though, because you’d asked him where he lived and he finally obliged. it’s still beautiful as ever, neat garden lined with flowers and a soccer field in the back.

when you knock on the gate, you see a familiar face come out; it’s itoshi rin, his younger brother. you only know that because sae’s spoken about him a few times, and you saw a picture of the both of them together on his phone.

“oh, um, hi, who are you?” rin asks, cautiously, because evidently, he’s never seen you.

“uh, i’m one of sae’s… classmates,” you decide, and it stings that you realise you can’t even say that anymore. how did it all spiral from cloud nine? “is he home?”

rin blinks a few times. his lower lashes are slightly longer than sae’s, he’s carrying a soccer ball, and you just know he’s been training all day because he’s sweating from head to toe. sae has said rin wanted to be a striker just like him.

“oh, didn’t you hear? my big bro got scouted, he left for spain last night.”

it shouldn’t be this upsetting—he isn’t even your boyfriend. no matter how much you wanted him to be. he was just… someone you studied with, spent time with, made efforts for.

but something forms in the pit of your stomach when you hear that sae’s already gone, that he’s already halfway to spain without even saying goodbye, without giving you any warning.

you’d thought whatever friendship you had with him was worth more than a silent goodbye, than a one-sided decision.

“o-oh, okay, thanks!”

you bolt off before rin can say anything else, it’s better that no one can see you crying anyway.

that night once you’ve sort of calmed down, you open up sae’s message thread, which as of late is mostly a string of messages from you and sae only replying with oh or i see or i’m busy.

the last time he even bothered replying to you was last week when you asked if he wanted to watch a movie together and he said a simple no.

“you’re an ass, itoshi sae,” you cry to yourself as you bring up the keyboard on your phone, your tears falling onto the screen.

i hate you, itoshi sae.

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

soccer is the same; thrilling, tiring, demanding.

it’s been a year since he left japan and he’s still surviving, still thriving, still being revered as a genius midfielder. sae knows he has what it takes to bring victory to a good enough team, that’s what he came here for anyway—to be the best in the world.

“good job out there, sae,” the captain claps him on the back, but sae’s mind isn’t there.

it’s been a year since he left japan and he still pulls up the last message you ever sent him.

i hate you, itoshi sae.

perhaps it’s good that you do. there’s no place for your dreams in spain, or anywhere else in the world except for japan. you need to move on from him. maybe you already did, from what he hears from his classmates who still check in on him from time to time.

the first time sae hears about how some other guy asked you out, he can’t say he doesn’t care. but he’s relinquished his right to be jealous, so he barely responds to the news.

but maybe he’s beginning to see where he fucked up, because he shouldn’t have gotten close to you in the first place, should’ve just left you alone.

instead now he’s left with this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. is this how it feels like to really miss someone?

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘

you’re now in college and you’re past whatever happened in high school. itoshi sae still lingers in the crevices of your mind, with his teal eyes and his pretty lashes and the way his hand felt when they were on top of yours.

some part of you thinks you’d never get over him, but you have to make peace with that. just because he never bothered to give you closure doesn’t mean he should be allowed to ruin your life.

besides, you’re pretty sure he read what you last sent him. there’s really nothing else for you to do if he doesn’t even bother talking to you.

you’d been trying to properly move on anyway, and that’s exactly what you try to do later that night, after accepting ryusei shido’s invitation to dinner.

he’s like the opposite of sae, though. he’s all expressive and goofy and wild because he’s got you trespassing on private property just to borrow their garden and he likes to drive fast, really fast, because he loves the wind in his hair.

if you had met him first, you’d probably be in love with the rush he gives you, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. when he kissed you, if only you didn’t have itoshi sae in your head, then maybe you’d have kissed him back.

when you’re twenty, you find out that maybe you can’t move on without giving itoshi sae a piece of your mind.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄

sae’s career has been rapidly progressing, he’s part of the starting team and is hailed as one of the world’s up-and-coming top soccer stars.

the earlier game cemented it.

his team won, with the commentators naming him as the most valuable player, assisting in all the goals scored by his team.

when he’s pulled aside for an interview, he can’t help but wonder whether you’d be watching through the television, hanging on his every word. or maybe you’d already moved on with this shido guy he hears about.

fuck that shido guy.

and when an interviewer asks whether there’s anyone special in his life that motivates him, he finds himself wishing he could say your name.

“nothing of that sort.”

interviews pass by quickly, as they always do for him because he’s not much of an interview guy, with his stoic expressions and lacklustre responses. he’s on the way back to the locker room when he hears a familiar voice calling out to him.

“sae!”

he spins around to find his mother and father there, surprising him. they must’ve heard he was playing and booked a flight out. rin’s not here though.

“rin’s busy with some soccer matches of his own back at home,” his father explains, as if he read his mind. “he couldn’t make it, but he’s surely watching the match from home.”

how silly of sae to have wished that it was you calling out to him, for that split second. you’re still in his head, and that’s annoying.

“oh! sweetheart,” his mother coos after she’s done gushing over his game, “we ran into one of your friends earlier! what’s her name—ah wait there she is!”

sae furrows his brows, following his mother’s gaze and finds you there, hugging the walls, sheepishly waving your hand at him. he’s starting to doubt his vision, maybe you’re just his imagination, maybe his mother’s looking at someone else.

“hey, sae,” you greet him, mellow and polite.

he’s still standing there like he’s the one who’s starstruck, like you’re the famous one. are you really here?

“what are you doing here?”

not the best greeting, but that’s the most he can muster when he hasn’t seen or heard from you in over three years.

you smile, and he thinks he might melt, but he doesn’t because he’s just told—lied to—the world that there’s no one special to him.

“what’s wrong with supporting one of my friends?” you say, as though this is a neighbourhood soccer match and you didn’t have to fly halfway across the world for it.

“itoshi! get in here!” by the sound of his voice, it’s the captain talking. sae doesn’t even want to take his eyes off of you, but he has to.

“go,” you tell him, “i’m staying near the airport, if, uh, you wanted to do anything afterwards.”

does he?

sae swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “yeah, okay.”

that night, he figures out which hotel you’re staying at and pays you a visit—it annoys him how fast his heart is beating and how your sudden presence threatens to mess up his life.

he knocks on your door, and you open it, beaming at him when you see him. “i thought we were meeting at the restaurant,” you say as you let him in, closing the door behind him.

“i was just passing by, sent my parents to the airport and thought i would just drop by,” he answers, lying through his teeth. his parents are still somewhere in spain and he just wanted to see you sooner, that’s all.

“well, i’m still getting ready,” you tell him, straightening your dress and looking at yourself in the mirror.

how is it possible you keep getting prettier everyday? your hair’s a little longer now, and you look more mature, you’ve learned to do makeup, and your dress hugs your body in just the right places. he’s cursing himself for staring at you.

“i thought you’d be too busy to come out with me tonight, honestly,” you confess, putting on some lipstick.

sae has to look away, “and i thought you hated me.”

that has you stopping in your tracks; this conversation happened earlier than you expected, but you’d been gunning for this all the same.

“yeah, well you left japan without saying a word to me, like i was just anyone else.”

he understands why you’d think that. that was what he was going for anyway, and it reminds him what he should be doing instead of entertaining you right now. sae should be rejecting you, you and your efforts, should turn away from you like you’re another one of his fangirls.

“why?”

but the shakiness in your voice takes him off guard.

“why what?”

“why didn’t you say anything?”

“i didn’t have to,” sae responds, simply, like he doesn’t owe you a damn thing.

“was i imagining it?” you ask, finally turning around and looking him in his eyes.

no, no you weren’t.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“then why are you here, sae?” you burst out, and he stills in his position, feet glued to the floor. “you wouldn’t give a second thought to people you don’t care about, so what now?”

“i was just taking an old friend out to dinner, that’s all.”

he’s stubborn, so so stubborn. he’s hoping he’ll hold out.

“i don’t get you,” you mutter softly, to yourself or to him, he doesn’t even fucking know.

sae really shouldn’t, but he thinks about how he might never see you again and tries, “what do you want?”

“what are you talking about?”

“do you know what you want?” sae turns it around on you. “you flew halfway across the world to get here, for what? for me?”

he’s intimidating when he speaks a little louder than usual, and you shrink back just slightly.

“i-i wanted to talk to you,” you try your hardest to form an excuse but it’s not working.

“and what did you want out of that?”

you fall flat, and you feel like giving up. you know the answer, but you don’t want to admit it. you don’t want to tell him that you wanted him to want you too, you don’t want to admit that you’ve been thinking about him nearly all the time and what could’ve been.

“just forget it,” you relent, averting your gaze, but the next moment you feel an unfamiliar sensation on your lips, the taste of his on yours.

sae doesn’t know why he’s doing it, but his body moves on its own; something he got from playing that manages to bleed into his daily life, apparently.

you taste so much better than he expected, and you feel like you belong in his arms, like you’re made for him because there’s absolutely no one else in the whole fucking world who could ever bring itoshi sae to his knees.

he’s been in denial all this time, yes, and he’s tired of it. if you came all the way here, he’s not wasting it. he pulls away from you, absolutely dazed by the wanting look in your eyes.

you’re twenty one years old when you first hear itoshi sae telling you he loves you.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎

“someone’s chirpy,” your mother says from the couch, looking up from her ipad. “i sense… a date with sae.”

you roll your eyes, throwing one of the cushions at her. “mom, shut up,” you groan, still embarrassed whenever she calls you out for it.

sae’s still in spain most of the time, but the both of you make it work. you make a point to video call at least twice a week, and he responds to you like a normal boyfriend does. it’s back to that good morning, goodnight love you shared back in high school. he makes as much time as he can, and you appreciate him for it.

“i’m glad you’re happy, sweetie,” she tells you, and you smile gratefully.

you’re more than relieved now that she’s managed to fight the cancer off. it’s the only reason she pushed you to go see sae last year. you technically wouldn’t have done it without her.

a knock on your door signals that he’s here, and your mom gives you a knowing look before she excuses herself to her room.

when you open the front door, you feel a burst of excitement when you see sae there holding a bouquet of flowers.

“happy birthday, pretty.”

even when he’s busy, even when he’s swamped, he’ll never stop making you feel like you’re on top of the world.

both of you are twenty-two when sae decides that you’re his world.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

this is the year you find out long distance is actually really really hard.

sometimes sae loses the match, and sometimes he can’t separate friend from foe from you. he gets frustrated, and so you do too. he has less than kind words when he’s venting, and you happen to be on the receiving end.

sometimes you get stressed from your finals projects, and you push him away, and sae leaves you to it. sae doesn’t check up on you as much as you’d like to, and you’re a little too stubborn to tell him that you mind.

sometimes sae would get interviewed and would have to address dating rumours, whether it’s the upcoming supermodel from america or that renowned sexy sports photographer from brazil—it’s hard not to get jealous, especially when you’re kept private.

you can’t blame him for that, not when everyone likes to send hate to the pretty girl he’s supposedly dating.

this is also where you find out that itoshi sae knows you better than anyone. it’s where he always leaves you a reminder he loves you, even when you’re fighting. it’s where he sends you a goodnight text even when you’ve hung up the phone hours ago in anger. it’s where he keeps japan in his weather app just so he can tell you not to be a klutz and fall down when it’s raining. it’s where he declares on international television that no, he’s not available but that’s none of their business.

even if you yearn for him to be next to you at times, sae’s off doing what he’s always wanted to do, and you’re not going to let yourself be a burden—so you do what you want to do, because the last thing you want the headlines to blast is the fact that itoshi sae’s girlfriend is a good-for-nothing.

twenty-three is the age where you start writing articles for a local magazine company, where you take lead on fashion articles while occasionally helping with the sports section.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

both of your careers are in full flight.

so is your relationship.

sae’s always proud of you, of your achievements, of your efforts even if they didn’t bear fruit. you’re doing so well, making yourself a name in Japan with your articles, with your wonderful insights and funny wit.

he always reads your articles, tells his assistant to get a subscription on the magazine and send it to sae’s hotel, always reads the articles you write. he doesn’t tell you about that though. doesn’t want you getting a big head.

and every time you talk on the phone about your articles and how hard it was to write or how you’re afraid people will take it the wrong way, he acts like he doesn’t even know which article you’re talking about. (he absolutely does.)

“hey, when’s my contract ending again?”

sae’s assistant looks up from his ipad from his seat across him on the private jet. he blinks twice before rifling through his different folders.

“oh, next year.”

a ghost of a smile appears on sae’s face and his assistant thinks he’s hallucinating.

“good.”

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

sae is twenty-five years old when he finally decides he’s ready to come home.

it makes the headlines—how he quit the club and refused to play for them anymore, the reason being that he wants to go back to his roots.

back to you.

because now, at your front door, after he knocks once, twice, and you open it, surprised, sae’s never been more sure that he’s making the right decision.

after all, you’re the only one in the world capable of bringing itoshi sae to his knee.

“will you marry me?”

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x you #sae x y/n #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #bllk sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 9 months

Text

Hotel Voluptas: Check(ed) In (You)

voluptas (latin; noun): pleasure, satisfaction, delight

pairing: idol!Mingyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to lovers!AU (sorta) - minors dni.

warnings: hotel sex, oral (both receiving) protected sex, mean dom!mingyu, degradation, mild jealousy (reader is a carat and her bias ain't gyu lmao), spanking, rough sex, multiple orgasms and positions, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, dirty talk, use of petnames, mentions of threesome, mentions of panic attack (it's not actually happening dw)

word count: 4k

summary: you're just a regular tourist in Seoul who visits a regular hotel to spend your nights. except the hotel isn't your regular one - let alone its patrons and needs.

Author's note: this is an altered version of a mingyu dream i had a few nights ago msdnfsmnfs thank you to @playmetheclassics for coming up with the title and @idyllic-ghost for beta-reading this fic 💕

nsfw taglist: @rosecult @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17 @lovelyhan @luvv4svt @novalpha @wonderfulshinee @foxinnie8 @sstarrysshit @threedalla @enhacolor @seuomo @spk93 @snoozeagustd @strawberryya

unable to tag: @kkakkameori @patisseriam @0717luv @coachukaishairband

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Good evening, sir Lee. The usual?”

“You know me, Hyun,” the man clad in total black clothing whips out his credit card to slide over the machine, the familiar sound of the accepted payment ringing like music to his ears.

“We’re all good! Here’s your key, sir.” The receptionist hands over the key to the unknown man and the latter heads off with a slight nod. A couple of bills is all he leaves behind for the receptionist - a thank you gift for his continuous discretion.

Lee Saejin. That was the registered name for the room reservation.

But it’s obviously a fake name - besides, nobody would really care if a random guy was staying over in a hotel surrounded by oddly well-kept rumors.

But the idol Kim Mingyu spending his nights off in this hotel, sleeping in the arms of a different person every time he visits? Press scandal worthy, to say the least.

So he settles with a silly fake name and escapes through the danger exit doors - not that he minds, when he gets much needed sexual relief after hellish weeks of tight-packed schedules.

All of the stressful thoughts are discarded once he steps into the room and he’s met with a gorgeous lady, sipping on what seems to be expensive champagne.

“Hey there,” Mingyu greets the woman as he discards his coat and takes the hem of his shirt to remove it.

“Let me do the dirty work, mister,” she gets up and holds his wrists, gently peeling them off the fabric so she can take it off herself, “Can’t have you doing more work than you already do, right?”

“As if you haven’t been working your pretty ass off, sweetheart,” he smirks and pulls her flush to his body, his hands kneading her ass over the silky dress.

“I think we should do less talking-”

“And more fucking?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Ugh, why is it so hard to find a decent hotel at a decent price?!”

You want to slam your laptop on the table and crush it into tiny pieces. You have one chance to go to South Korea and the only thing that’s stopping you is finding a damn hotel to stay in.

It’s either an over-the-top super expensive hotel that you need to sell both of your kidneys to afford a couple of nights or it’s a very dingy motel in a suspicious neighborhood.

“No….Not this one….Definitely not this one….Not this one either….”

Suddenly your eyes fall on a neat-looking hotel, with a very good score in reviews.

“Oh? Perhaps?” You scroll through the pictures of the site, the hotel rooms looking exactly like what you’ve been looking for - it almost feels like it’s too good to be true.

You check out the reviews and a few giggles escape from your lips while reading them.

“You will not regret staying in this hotel ;)”

“10/10 would go visit again, spent the best nights of my LIFE”

“you’ll literally spot celebrities in there I’M NOT FUCKING KIDDING”

“Celebrities? Wow, people have a lot of humor,” you chuckle, “But it’s a pretty good hotel - Got nothing to lose, right?”

You don’t hesitate to book a room with a double bed (a girl just wants to lay like a starfish) and pay with your credit card, the booking confirmation arriving in your mail inbox shortly after. You proceed to book your flight tickets with a beaming smile on your face, excitement coursing through your entire body in the forms of jitters.

I’m gonna have so much fun.

You feel like you were put in the blender and got splattered on the floor.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t traveled by plane in a long time, maybe it was the duration of the flight, or a combination of the two - either way, you just wanted to faceplant in the mattress of the hotel bed.

You feel very grateful to the taxi driver who offered to carry your suitcase until the entrance of the hotel. You thank him for the ride and hand over the corresponding amount of money, bidding him farewell.

You walk through the glass doors of the hotel and you suddenly feel very much awake.

The whole place feels so luxurious yet not intimidating, as if it’s calling you to explore its deepest parts. You look around you and see people waiting at the lobby, the majority of them wearing face masks and you feel conscious for not wearing one.

You timidly approach the reception counter, dragging your suitcase behind you. You ring the bell on the marble counter and wait for someone to appear.

“Good evening, miss. What can I do for you?” The receptionist appears and you’re blown away from how dashing he looks.

“Um, hello, I’ve booked a room under the name Y/N L/N? I-It’s one with a-”

“A double bed, yes, I am aware,” the man chuckles, “It’s not like we have single beds in this hotel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said that the rooms in our hotel do not have single beds.”

You blink twice. Is he serious right now?

“Um,” you scratch your cheek, “May I ask why?”

“Miss Y/N, are you aware of the services we provide here?”

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t this just a regular hotel where people spend a few nights to rest after visiting Seoul?”

He takes a quick glance left and right and moves his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion and you inch closer, purely out of curiosity.

“Do you see all those people waiting here?”

You nod in agreement.

“They wear facial masks because they don’t want to be recognized in public.”

Your eyes go wide and your brain recalls all of the reviews you read online - they were fucking true.

“Are you saying that they come here to fuck?!”

“Shhh! Don’t be so loud!” he shushes you in a panic, “But yeah, that’s what they’re here for - that’s what this hotel is for, technically.”

Just your fucking luck.

“There was none of that crap on the website!” You whisper in a state of panic.

“What did you expect, miss? To write ‘hello we have rooms for you to fuck your brains out with other people’?” He deadpans with a straight face.

“Okay fine, you have a point,” you huff in annoyance, “But isn’t that, like….Illegal?”

“Illegal? Oh no no, there are no sex workers here, only people of high social profile who want to have a good time,” he clarifies, “We’re just the confidential party who run this hotel.”

“So, um..” you trail off, “Does that mean I’m obligated to share a room with someone here?”

“Of course not! You did book a room for one person, after all.”

“Okay….” you answer and think for a while, but your thoughts are as clear as a cobweb.

“You can call me Hyunjin, by the way.” The receptionist introduces himself after a long time.

You give him a quick smile and go back to the ordeal of putting your thoughts in a coherent order.

“Hey, Hyunjin?”

“Yes?”

“Do idols come here too?”

The man licks his lips before smirking.

“I am not allowed to disclose such information, my dear.”

“So they do,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Again, I am not allowed to disclose such information.”

“Fine, I’ll find out for myself, then.” You muster up your confidence.

“Excellent,” Hyunjin smiles and pulls out a piece of paper and a tablet, “Want me to hand you over a pen?”

“Yes please,” you answer without lifting your head from the papers you’re reading, quickly realizing it is indeed, a NDA. Of course they would have those.

You carefully check all of the pages (including the footnotes) and you sign the NDA without a fuss, Hyunjin’s signature following right after.

“What’s that for?” You look at the bright screen, filled with a list of names and X marks.

“This is where we store the information of our regular clients and the rooms they usually stay in,” he explains, “The X marks next to the names you see indicate that these people are already with someone…If you get what I mean. Also, there are the gender symbols to indicate...well, their gender.”

A notification comes up in your phone and you slide it out of your pocket, mumbling a quick sorry to Hyunjin, so you can text your friend back that you made it safely to Seoul. The man takes a quick glance at your phone case, pursing his lips tight.

“Okay, where were we? The clients, right?”

“Yes. That is, if you want to try meeting one of them - You can always keep your reservation as it is and quietly spend your nights here on your double bed.”

“Well,” you bite your bottom lip, “I’m a single girl in Seoul to have fun, might as well get laid with someone hot, right?” You tilt your head in a cheeky way.

“As you wish, miss - Have you decided on who you’re gonna pick?”

“Hmm, let’s see…”

You carefully check the list with all the unmatched names and your eyes fixate on the name Lee Saejin.

“This one.”

Now it’s Hyunjin’s turn to be surprised, but he’s only allowed to nod and do the reservations.

“You just had a really weird expression on your face.”

“Who, me? Nope, definitely not!” He defends himself while trying to put down the necessary information to complete the process.

“What’s wrong with the name I picked?”

“Nothing at all,” he bites back a smile, “On the contrary, you picked a really good one.”

“Okay….” you side eye him, “Can I go now?”

“You’re too eager for someone who looked like splattered jam on the floor not too long ago.” He hands you over the card key for the room.

“You’re one peculiar receptionist,” you take the key and drag your suitcase on the smooth floor.

“Hope you enjoy your stay in Hotel Voluptas, miss!” Hyunjin yells before you disappear behind the elevator doors, which earns him a few irritated glares from other guests. He clears his throat and absentmindedly smooths over his hair and clothes, going back to his business

“Hoo boy, she’s in for a real treat.”

You feel like a lunatic.

If anyone else was in your shoes, they would have run the fuck out of this place and take the first flight back home.

But you feel excited. Almost ecstatic.

You never thought the reviews/rumors you had heard about Hotel Voluptas were actually true but now that you’re one step away from finding out who Lee Saejin truly is.

You take a deep breath before opening the door and check underneath your shirt to make sure you’re wearing a pretty lingerie set - just in case, you know.

You slide the card key over the electronic lock and the door opens. You enter the room and you quickly realize there’s nobody inside.

“Huh? That’s weird,” you close the door behind you and set your suitcase next to the wardrobe. You take a look around the room, noticing how neat and pristine it looks. You sit on the bed and touch the sheets, your palm gliding over the silk.

“Damn, that’s real luxury right here.” You let out a low whistle.

“You should see the jacuzzi, that’s peak luxury.”

The unknown voice scares you so much you end up falling down on the carpeted floor with a thud.

“Ouch…”

“Shit, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” The stranger bends down to help you stand on your feet, your ass slightly stinging from the sudden impact.

“Yeah, I think so-” you raise your head and look at his face, any coherent sentence dying down in your throat and any rational thought disappearing from your brain.

The man standing in front of you - the half naked man - is Kim Mingyu.

Kim fucking Mingyu of Seventeen.

You cover your mouth in shock, sitting on the bed to realize what the fuck is going on.

“You must be Y/N, right?” Mingyu speaks.

“No, I’m not.”

“What? But I’m sure Hyunjin sent me the correct info…”

“Wait, my info?!”

“Um, yeah. For the NDA, y’know?”

“Oh. Right.”

You don’t know if you want to jump out of the window or jump his bones right this instant.

“I know this is sudden, but that’s how things work in here,” he flashes his signature smile, his perfectly white canines shining brighter than your future.

“Is this even real?”

“You can always touch me, y’know?”

“NO!”

“No?”

“Wait, I mean yeah- Shit, I-”

“Do you need some time alone? I’m kind of worried right now,” Mingyu admits with a nervous look, “I don’t want you to panic right now.”

“I just- Hyunjin did tell me that celebrities come here, but I didn’t expect to see YOU of all people!” You admit with a wheeze.

“I mean, I am a guy with sexual needs as well.” He lets out a chuckle.

“But you were supposed to be at your dorms and resting!”

“Says who?”

“The news channel live…..You left the airport with the members in the cars….So I assumed you….” You trail off, your voice getting quieter.

“So you’re a fan, huh,” he smirks, “That makes it even better.”

“Y-Yeah, hence the shock….”

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

“Oh, so now you’re gonna pull the shit you do at fansigns, huh?” Your demeanor changes as you sit up on the bed.

“Is it working?” He towers over you, adjusting the towel around his waist, your eyes zoning on the water droplets cascading from his beefy chest all the way down to his v-line.

“Maybe.” You admit and you feel your cheeks flaring up as he climbs on the bed, his body frame hovering above yours.

“Good, that means my game is still going strong.”

“Or your fans are way too whipped for you.”

“You’re not a gyuldaengie?”

Fuck, wrong move.

“Who is it, darling?”

“Not telling you.” You challenge him.

“No need to tell me, I already know either way.” He grins like an imp as he stretches his arm to pick up your phone from the floor.

“Wonwoo hyung, huh?”

“Hey, give that back!” You try to take the phone back, but he pins your wrists above your head with his hand.

“You wish he was here instead of me?”

“And what about it?”

“Too bad he’s a fucking loser who does gaming lives for his fans.”

“Shut up, I love those!”

“Of course you do - It’s just that fucking pretty girls like you is way more fun, don’t you think?”

You let out a shaky breath at his words - Kim Mingyu just called you pretty and it has you melting on the spot.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks you with a whisper.

“Please.”

It’s all Mingyu needs to put his lips on yours, his hands now perched on your clothed body, fingers dancing dangerously around the hem of your shirt.

“Just take it off already!” You squirm underneath him.

“So demanding, tsk…” He takes off your shirt and unbuttons your jeans, leaving you only in your lingerie.

“Demanding yet dressed for the occasion, I see.”

“It was coincidental!” You defend yourself, “I just like wearing pretty underwear, is that bad?”

“Not at all, darling,” he licks his bottom lip, “I always appreciate pretty things on pretty people.”

He presses a chaste kiss on the column on your neck, and another one on your collarbone, and a lot more scattered over your chest and abdomen, paying extra attention to your lower stomach, just above the hem of your thong.

“G-Gyu-”

“Oh so we’re on a nickname basis now?” Mingyu hooks his fingers on the thin elastic band and slides it down your legs, letting out a whistle when he spreads your thighs all the way to your hip bones.

“Not that I mind you calling me Gyu, obviously.”

“You’re so insufferable, oh my God, just lic- AH!”

You moan out loud when he parts your lower lips with his thumbs and starts sucking on your clit.

You thread your hands in his silky black hair, pulling it each time he presses his tongue a bit harder on the spots that make you squirm beneath him.

You always knew Mingyu had very attractive lips, but feeling them making out with your pussy in such a sloppy manner makes your head spin.

You let out a particularly loud moan when you feel his thumb stretch your hole, all while he spits on your clit just to lick it even harder than before, followed by a particularly harsh suck.

“Fuck!” Your thighs squirm and almost close around his head, but he keeps them open with his arms, his chocolate eyes staring at you.

“You’re really squirmish, aren’t you?”

“It’s not my fault-”

“That I’m eating your pussy so good you don’t want me to stop?”

God, you really want to slap him. But he’s right.

“Aren’t you going to say anything, darling?”

“You stopped eating my pussy.”

Mingyu clicks his tongue in annoyance and flips you around, lifts your ass and goes back to eat you out like a starved animal.

“Oh my- Fuck, it feels so fucking good, Gyu!”

“Oh yeah? Would Wonwoo hyung eat you like this?” He smacks your ass.

“Mmmfh-”

“Answer me, pretty girl.” He smacks your ass again, a bit harder this time.

“I won’t fucking tell you!”

“Bratty little bitch,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance and gets up from his place, circling the bed to stand in front of you, finally dropping his towel.

Big would be too little of a word to describe what hangs between his legs.

You gulp audibly, mouth salivating at the sight of his deliciously thick cock, your insides jolting at the thought of his length splitting you in half.

“What, you see a nice dick and turn all dumb and drooly?” He pumps his cock with his fist right in front of your face.

You crawl a bit closer to him and slap his hand away to wrap your lips around the fat tip, pushing his cock deeper in your mouth.

“You’re so much more eager than I thought, sweetheart,” Mingyu groans and puts his hand deep in your hair, “Would you suck Wonwoo’s cock like that too, darling?”

“I’d suck it harder,” you take out his cock and stroke it with your hand, a shit-eating grin on your face, “Does that answer your question?”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue and slaps your cheek with his cock twice before he’s pushing you on your back again.

“Well too bad he’s not here now.” He opens one of the nightstand drawers and pulls out a condom, ripping the packaging with his teeth to roll the latex over his cock.

He climbs on the bed again and throws your legs on his shoulders, tapping his dick on your slicked cunt a few times.

“I’ll just fuck you to oblivion instead.”

“Now I know why everyone calls you an overgrown puppy,” you giggle, “You’re all bark and no bite, Gyu.”

Your lips morph into an ‘O’ shape when Mingyu slams his dick inside you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“I’ve had enough of you running your mouth all evening,” he grits his teeth and tugs your bra down, letting your breasts out of the lace, “For someone who was so shocked to find out that people fuck in this place, you’re awfully bratty.”

“Then fuck the attitude out of me, big guy,” you taunt him, “Just like you’ve been boasting all evening.”

“With pleasure.”

Mingyu folds you in half and starts drilling his cock in your pussy with a newfound hunger, all the exhaustion he had accumulated from the flight gone in the blink of an eye.

“Your pussy is so fucking good, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” He moans and gropes your tits, his big hands squeezing the soft flesh.

“Your cock fucks me so good, Gyu, you’re so good to me, fuck!” You grip the sheets, nails digging into the silk.

“Oh yeah? Dick so good you’re not thinking about that bias of yours anymore?”

Your pussy clenches around his shaft, Mingyu’s eyes turning hooded.

"You greedy little slut," he juts his hips a bit more forcefully, "You would love to fuck Wonwoo, wouldn't you?"

Yes, you definitely would - you can't even bring yourself to count the times you've thirsted over the cat-like man in glasses for the most dumb reasons.

"Of course a pretty slut like you cannot be satisfied with one dick," he speeds up his thrusts, "Need something to fill your bratty mouth with, right?"

"F-Fuck, yes!" You cry out, thighs starting to tense on his shoulders.

"Maybe I should take a picture of you sucking my dick like a lolly and send it to hyung," he taunts you, "Show him what his fans are actually doing in their free time."

"Shit, Gyu!" You scream Mingyu's name and your back arches off the mattress as you cum around his cock, giving him the green light to fuck you through your orgasm, while he chases his own.

It doesn't take him long to tip off the edge and reach his own climax, filling up the condom with his cum. He quickly discards the soiled latex in the trash bin under the nightstand and lays right next to you, a wicked smile playing on his face.

"Why are you smiling like th- Oof!" You gasp when he pulls you flush to his chest and throws your leg over his hip, burying two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt.

He rapidly fucks his digits in your spent hole as he grinds his palm on your clit, trying to force one more orgasm out of your body.

And he does.

He watches your body shake harder than before and you squirt all over his hand and thighs, eyes nearly rolling at the back of your skull from the intensity of your orgasm.

He pulls out his fingers and licks them clean with his mouth, letting them go with a lewd sound.

"W-What….was that for?" You pant.

"For good measure." He grins.

"....Manwhore." You curse under your breath and Mingyu lands a smack on your pussy, making you yelp from the impact.

"Says the girl who wants to fuck two idols of the same group."

"And what about it?! A girl can always

dream!" You protest.

"Some dreams can become a reality," he says, "That is, if you ask the right people."

"You're not actually thinking of sending him a post-sex image, are you?!"

"Are you crazy? Of course not, that NDA has my signature too, missy," he deadpans, "I just said that to rile you up."

"Of course you did." You roll your eyes at him.

"So….how long are you staying in Seoul?"

"A week," you reply, "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking…." Mingyu trails one finger on your collarbone.

"Yes?"

"If I convince that loser of a hyung I have as my roommate to get out of his gaming chair, maybe you'll get to live your dirty little fantasy."

"Are you- Is this a joke? Because if you're fucking with me, you better drop it."

"I'm 100% serious, love," he dips his finger on the valley of your breasts, "As long as everyone consents to it, I'm down to share. If you behave as well, of course."

You don't hesitate to nod affirmatively and climb on top of him, giving him a passionate kiss as a thank you.

"There's something you need to know though."

"What is it, darling?"

"I have an IUD and I'm clean, got checked last month."

Mingyu blinks twice and purses his lips in a thin line.

"You better prepare yourself for next time, sweetheart," he grips your ass, "And don't worry about our little playdate getting out of here." He presses a kiss on your neck.

"What happens in Hotel Voluptas, stays in Hotel Voluptas."

#svthub #mingyu smut #svt mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen #tw alcohol

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livsbrutalitys-blog · 4 months

Text

Unfinished business

pt. 1 | pt. 2| pt. 4 (i highly recommend reading the previous parts first <3)

pairing(s): Rhea x f!reader, wwe x f!reader, not really but aew x f!reader

a/n: the song that’s below is gonna be the entrance music for y/n if you don’t like it thats totally fine we don’t all have the same taste so i recommend you play whatever music you choose. don’t play it just yet I will make a note letting you know when to play it :) Also this part is probably gonna be the shortest of them all.

use of y/n

tw: eventual smut, cussing, physical violence (y’all this is wrestling what’d you expect), idk if there’s more lmk if you see any

rm: @floweirala if you want to be added or unadded just message me

Today was finally the day you and Liv had been waiting for. You were finally going to see her. You woke you before Liv and now you were just laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling thinking about how the day is gonna go.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by a blaring noise coming from the opposite side of the room. You turned your head to see what it was and it was Liv’s alarm going off. You got up and walked over to her bed and gently shook her arm to wake her up. When she did finally wake up she grabbed her phone and shut off the alarm.

“Good morning, it’s the big day!” you said trying to sound more excited to encourage her to get out of bed. “Oh my god!” is all she said as she sprung out of her bed suddenly remembering what today was. You laughed at her and she giggled at her own antics.

“I was thinking maybe we go grab some breakfast before we get ready or we can order room service?” you suggested and she turned to look at you considering your options till she finally decided what she wanted. “Room service would probably be better since it’s probably crawling with fans out there and we don’t wanna be spotted” she said and you nodded in agreement, you didn’t even think about that.

WWE was so much different than AEW in so many was but the biggest thing was the size of the fan base. You knew it wasn’t gonna be the same as your last company but it still amazes you how big the actual fan base was compared to the other company. But they shared some of the same fans so they’d definitely know who you are if they saw you out on the streets.

Once you two got done eating and cleaned up you both decided that you should go ahead and start getting ready since your call time to be at the show was 1 pm and it was now 10:30. You were dressed and Liv was putting the finishing touches on her make up while you waited. You didn’t do your makeup just yet since you’ve always preferred doing it last so it looked as fresh as possible for the TV and the love crowd.

You grabbed a hoodie to wear over your outfit and a mask so that way when you were out nobody would spot you and give away the surprise. Liv did the same as you, You felt your phone start to buzz in your pocket. When you grabbed it and looked at what it was you weren’t surprised to see that it was Stephanie calling you. You answered the call.

“Hey Steph” you said now feeling comfortable calling her by her nickname since you had been working with her very closely for the past 6 months leading up to today. “Hi y/n, are you and Liv ready to go?” she asked “Um I am let me check on Liv really quick” you muted your end of the call in case something personal or embarrassing was said but mostly it was just a habit you formed.

“Hey Livy, Steph’s on the phone wondering if your ready. Are you good to go or do you need more time?” you asked stepping into the bathroom halfway to get a look at her. “Yeah I’m good to go if you are” she said with a big smile you could see in her eyes how much today meant to her. You smiled at her because seeing her this happy made you just as excited and happy as her. “Yeah I’m good” you said while unmuting your phone. “Yep we’re both good to go” you said with audible excitement. “That’s awesome, Ok there is a car waiting for you downstairs, remember to wear the covering you don’t wanna spoil the surprise” she said she was also very happy for you two.

You finished the call with Stephanie and you were now headed down to the ground floor of the hotel. Totally covered nobody could tell who you were which was a good thing right now. Now both of you were sitting in the back seat of a big suv on the way to the arena. You were, again, lost in your own thoughts about Rhea and the whole rest of the day ahead of you. You felt something touch your hand. You looked over at Liv and her face said all that you needed to hear. She was sympathizing with you in that moment, you didn’t let go of her hand as it was the only thing keeping you from spiraling in that moment.

“Liv I cant thank you enough for being through all this with me” you said breaking the silence. “Y/n you don’t have to thank me your basically my sister now, I love you boo, I got you, always” she said and you were really truly grateful for her. You don’t know how you would’ve made it through these past couple months with out her support and ungodly amount of enthusiasm. You smiled at her “I love you too Livy and I’ve got you always” she smiled at you.

You finally arrived at the arena and the driver came to open Liv’s door and she hopped out first, turning to face the inside of the car to adjust her disguise and ask you to make sure she was covered you let her know she was good and asked her the same for yourself. You hopped out right behind her and you two sprinted to the door and ran inside quickly to avoid any spying eyes. You were immediately rushed to a room and told that you would be told when it was your time to come out but to stay in that room for the time being and you both did.

You grabbed your makeup bag out of your bigger bag and sat down at the vanity that was set up in the room. You were halfway done when you heard something. Someone. A deep Australian accent vibrated through the hallway outside your dressing room. You couldn’t make out the words but you knew exactly who it was. You stared at the door for whatever reason it’s like you froze in place as soon as you made the connection of the voice and the person. Liv noticed and said your name to get your attention “huh, what is it?” you said still kind of lost in thought but now looking at her blankly.

“Don’t worry about her your gonna get her soon, your gonna make her regret hurting you like she did” She said with a sense of anger. “I’m not worried about her I’m just a little overwhelmed this is a lot y’know” you said now suddenly out of breath and feeling panicked for no reason at all it seemed. “God Liv I can’t get a good breath” you said holding your chest now feeling like tears are gonna come at any given second. “Hey Hey Hey look at me, you are fine, you are safe and you’re gonna be amazing out there everyone’s gonna freak when they see you even her she’s not gonna know what to do with herself and i mean it’s not like she can run anywhere” she said while holding you face and fanning you to calm you down and it worked. You nodded at her words signaling you heard her.

Once you finally calmed down you finished your makeup and sat on the couch with Liv watching the match happening right now on the TV. Rhea’s match was next and you heard the door knob giggle before it finally opened to reveal Stephanie. She snuck in swiftly.

“You girls ready for the best moment of your lives” she said with a beaming smile. You and Liv jumped up shrieking as you both said yes at the same time. “Alright well come on let’s go to gorilla” she motioned you to walk out. You both kept your disguises on and it brought some attention from the other wrestlers to you both. They knew what was going on just not who it was.

“Alright it’s gonna be Liv first then Y/n you’ll go out last and join her” she said hugging you both feeling so proud of you two. “ok ok that sounds good” Liv said trying to do breathing exercises to calm herself down and you were copying her. “And y/n you’ve got the microphone” Stephanie said, you weren’t surprised as you and Liv both practiced the same promo but Liv didn’t really like doing them it wasn’t her thing and you were completely fine with that you always enjoyed talking shit especially on the mic.

Rheas match was happening and you were getting closer to going out. You heard Liv’s cue to go out. She was waiting in front of you just behind the curtain now. Her music blasted and you screamed at her “you got this bitch” and more encouraging words. She whipped her head around to give you a quick air kiss and then she was gone. You glanced at the monitor that was set up backstage and you’ve never seen the crowd get that excited and loud it was almost deafeningly loud.

(play the song now)

Your music hit and it pulled you out of the trance like state you were in while watching Liv and the crowd. You inhaled deeply, pushing all of your anxiety down. Making your way to the ramp you walked with purpose and cockiness. As soon as the bright lights hit your eyes and the screams and chants hit your ears. You smiled slightly, taking a moment to take the moment in, looking around at all the faces looking back at you. You turned your attention to the task at hand, you finally saw her after all this time, all you had to do was look at her to know that she was not the same person you knew.

As you looked at her she turned her head slowly as she was laid out on the mat, exhausted and in pain. Her face shifted from a painful wince to a confused and furious look. You looked at Liv, making eye contact at the exact same time. You two both shared a look and it was like you read each others mind as you both ran to the ring quickly.

Liv jumped up on the apron and got the ref’s attention as you slid in the ring and took Rhea out with brass knuckles you had put on when you were making your way out to the ramp. When your fist made contact with her face you felt a sense of regret and felt a little guilty for taking her out like that. But there was no time to waste because the ref’s attention was slowly being drawn back to the match that was supposed to be happening behind him. You looked a Charlotte and motioned for her to come over and pin her opponent while she was down and she did.

You tapped the ref on the shoulder and shouted at him, “Come on count, hurry, hurry!” you shouted “one, two, three!” the arena shook on the last count as everyone was counting with the official. “And here’s your winner and new Women’s World Champion Charlotte Flair!” Samantha shouted into the mic there was a mix of disappointment and happiness that filled the arena.

“Rhea” you spoke into the mic was all you said as you knelt beside her. “you’ve gotten to confident haven’t you?” you looked at her shaking your head in a disappointed fashion. “we’ll don’t worry because Me and Liv here are gonna out right back where you belong” you said as you got up to walk away but you stopped for a second a glanced back at her before kneeling beside her again to say one last thing this time not on the mic. “And believe me you deserve it. Don’t forget what you did to me” you said with anger and hurt.

Rhea jumped up, startling you as you stepped out of the ring now on the apron beside Liv. “This isn’t over!” was all you heard from her as you walked back up the ramp, giggling with Liv. On your way back you slowed down to sign some posters, take quick pictures and just meet some of the fans for a brief moment.

When you got back to the top of the ramp before you went through the opening that led to the backstage area you turned around and blew a kiss to the woman in the ring who was fuming while staring at you.

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long for me to post but here it is and i hope you enjoyed this part even though I know it seems a little rushed.

#Spotify #angst #rhea ripley x reader #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe x reader #wwe x y/n #liv morgan x reader #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing

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lazypanartist · 2 years

Note

In regards to requests, maybe Fem!reader that reads a lot of x readers in order to feel loved, and the Rottmnt turtles (Separately- mostly Leo and Donnie) glance over without reader realizing and see that the character for their x reader has a lot of their own traits (Pre-relationship)

Sorry if it’s too complicated

Hello, hello! Definitely not too complicated! Thanks for my 1st request, love ^-^

Pre-Relationship Self-Shipping

Turts x Fem! Reader Headcanons

Premise: (Y/n) seeks out love wherever they can find it. Praise from peers, recognition for their classwork.. Fanfiction. Your favorite turtle just happens to see a few of the traits they’ve been called come across the screen over your shoulder..

Part 2

Warnings: awkward, no beta we die like Them™, cliffhangers

Word Count: ~1200

Raph:

Big softie loves on everyone he’s close to

Hugs, cuddles, mandatory movie nights with cuddle puddles

Unfortunately, that makes you crave his touch just that much more

You could practically feel his snoring against you during one of the movie nights

Really, everyone else was out cold

So it couldn’t hurt to check your fics out right now.. Right?

‘Protective, broad arms held you to his chest. He was brash with much of the world, but not you. You were special to him..’

You felt one of Raph’s arms tighten around you

Crap

When had he stopped snoring?

You could feel your cheeks heating up as you flipped your phone down

“Keep going.. I was just gettin’ invested in tha characters.”

How much had he actually read?

You sputtered quietly as he reached around you, pulling your phone out of your hands.

“Big guy’s a real softie for her, huh?”

He was either oblivious, or egging you on

You opted for the oblivious route

“Oh, yeah. He’s one of my favorite characters in the series.. Only really comes out of his shell around people he’s close to.”

He hummed, scrolling some. Scrolling.. Up?

“Is your reading list titled..”

“Nope!”

You reached around, trying to grab your phone back without disturbing anyone else

“‘Raph-adjacent’? Like.. people you think are similar to me?”

He wasn’t moving now, just holding the phone up and squinting at the screen

“Yes.. no! Nope, definitely NOT-”

“X reader soft, x reader fluff, cuddling fics.. That’s a whole lot of physical contact, huh? Almost 100 in the fluff folder..”

You blanched

How were you supposed to *actually* explain any of.. Well, that?

Leo:

I mean..

C’mon

He’s one for casual touches, just like his big bro

His are even MORE casual, though

Slinging an arm over your shoulders to chat

Using you as an armrest

He’s all about casual!

It’s his thing!

But his casual touches tended to make your mind wander at random times

You stood away from the group, leaned idly against the doorframe, glancing up from your phone every once in a while to make sure that nobody was out for blood.. Yet

“Hey, (Y/n)!”

You glanced up, putting your phone to sleep as you met Leo’s eyes.

“Hey! What’s up?”

“Well… I was wondering if I could borrow your phone for a minute. Raph and Mikey are about to have an eating contest, and I *have* to get it on tape!”

You chuckled, glancing past him into the room.

Yep. Massive stack of pizza boxes between the eldest and youngest of the turtles

“Sure!”

He grinned, grabbing the phone out of your hand

“Sweet! I’ll bring it back in just a bit.”

He swiped across, quickly unlocking the screen..

To what you had just been reading

Crap

He looked it over, and you could have sworn you saw a smirk before he exited the app, switching to the camera

He glanced back at you before walking in, holding the phone at eye level

“Alright ladies, gentleman, and everyone else! Welcome to the Lair’s third one-on-one mass eating contest!-”

When all was said and done Leo handed your phone back to you with a wink

It was open to your notes app, a single word typed on the screen

'Suave?’

Donnie:

We all know he doesn’t like touching people

He doesn’t do casual affection like his brothers

So if that’s something that makes you crave validation,

Tough shit

You’ve found that you can get physical contact if you offer to help in his lab

Brushes of fingertips when you hand him tools

One day, you’re doing more sitting then helping

Practically glued to your phone

The proximity to your crush wasn’t helping you

So you sought out a few of your favorite saved fics

‘“Of course I can make time for you, my love.” I took his outstretched hand, and he pulled me through the door, into his comforting laboratory.’

You barely had time to register the presence at your back before Donnie was scoffing

“Their grammar is ATROCIOUS!! If you’re going to read something like that, at least find an author who knows how to format sentences!”

“Excuse you!”

You turned to him, almost nose to snout in your spinning office chair

“She’s a classic, Don!”

“She must be thirteen, (Y/n).” He offered you a pointed look

“Hey now! She’d have to be pretty great at thirteen to get recommended all over the internet, y'know.”

He sighed dramatically, throwing an arm over his head

“Does nobody care for grammar anymore?”

He shook his head when you offered no answer

“And really.. Words like ‘cold’ and ‘multi-faceted’ being used in.. what, a love story? Describing a ring?”

“Describing a person, Donnie.”

“..what, like cold-hearted?”

“No.. like cold and callus, only ‘warming up’ to people you.. He’s close to.”

“...I see.”

“..So you think I’m cold?”

You glanced up, pulling an impassive look across your face

“The character, Don.”

“I heard you slip.”

“Donnie..”

Sheldon rushed into the room, alarm lights following his path down the hallway

“Emergency!”

Donnie looked towards you, Sharpie eyebrows furrowing

“This isn’t over!”

Mikey:

Almost as touchy as Leo

Probably takes after him, with all the casual touches

He’s kinda short, so hugs from behind

Gently bumping into you when you walk past each other

Grabbing you to pull you behind him, leading you through the sewers and streets to show you his artwork

He’s a softie

So it’s no wonder that you let him use your phone for references

I mean, what’s the harm?

You’re hanging out with him in the lair, reclining against the wall as you watch him work his magic

He has your phone in one hand, using the other for his various painting supplies

He pauses, stepping back for what you believe to be another collecting of references

Instead, you hear him mumble a quiet “Wha-?”

You look up

He’s still scrolling

Nothing out of the ordinary

“You okay, Mikey?”

“Uh.. yeah! No problems here whatsoever!”

You deadpan

“You’re lying, man. I can feel it. Spill.”

He tries the sad puppy eyes, to get himself out of potential trouble,

But you’re not his brother

“You should know by now that I’m immune.”

He sighed, turning the screen towards you

“Fine! A notification popped up with my name on it, but I KNOW I haven’t sent you anything yet today! I just wanted to see what it is.. But it’s just a romance thingy about an ‘extroverted artist’, according to the title..”

You spluttered

“Mikey!”

“What?! It had my name on it, I got curious!”

Great

“..Whatever, man. I can get you back to your pictures.”

You could feel the look he gave you as you went through your apps, silencing the notifications for your fics

And knew in your heart, that he wouldn’t let this go

-----

SOOOO I know the request said pre-relationship, so that’s what this one is. But now I have ideas for Part 2! I’ll add a link here once I get it done.

Requests still open!

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chaeminnieya · 6 months

Text

Bitched out

It has been approximately 54 days since Giselle went off on you

54 days since you’ve spoken to Huh Yunjin

54 days since you’ve spoken to anybody from that group chat, the exception of sakura

Warnings- suggestive contents, cursing, Giselle bein weird

“Just tell her that you accept her apology already!” Jeon somi shouted while walking back to the couch you were sat on from your kitchen, her suggestion made you let out a loud laugh “fuck that! The whore practically bitched me out in front of everyone and all i did was sit there looking fucking dumb.” You said getting annoyed just remembering that day

“God..she better pray i don't fuckin’ see her at any events or I'll fuck her up.” you said while tuning your guitar

“Well m- and who the fuck does she think she is?! I don't owe her shit..” you say while cutting Somi off

“I think s- why the fuck does she think it's okay to blab about our…relations to other people?!” Now even angrier than before you grab your phone and go to text Giselle most likely to go off on her but upon opening your messages you see

Immediately even angrier you slam your phone down making Somi jump “You good?” Somi asked while sitting up as she watched you slip some slides on and grab your wallet “I'm fine, do you want anything from the store?”

Hearing that you were going to the store she stands to go with you, making you immediately put your hand onto her chest to make her stop walking “You’re not coming with me, now do you want anything?” Somi let out a soft huff as she crossed her arms and sat down “Bring me those chips i like y’know the uhh..” “The gross ketchup lay’s?” “Yes! And they’re not gross.”

“Yeah, and i don't like women.” You mumbled sarcastically making Somi laugh as you walked out and locked the door behind you

The walk to the gas station was quiet the only sounds being the cars that sped by but other than that it was silent you felt your phone notifications go off so you immediately checked it, a habit because there was a small part of you that wished that one of these days when you check your notifications it might be her

But it never was, anyway as you arrived at the convenience store you took note of nobody else in the store except you and the cashier, you grabbed Somi’s chips and grabbed yourself two bottles of soju as you walked to the front you found yourself waiting behind someone which confused you because nobody was here with you before, once the person bought their stuff they turned around and of course, it just had to be Huh Yunjin because that was your type of luck.

She didn't choose to torture you and spark up a conversation instead just walked out of the store

Instead of saying hi to her, you kept your head down only bringing it up to bow to the cashier and of course, the cashier just had to speak to you

“Soju? So early in the morning?”

“Yep”

“Oh, I hope you're doing well.”

“Thanks.”

“You come here often.”

“Yep.”

“You don't talk much do you?”

“Nope.”

“Well, have a good day!” the man said while bowing as you quickly walked out of the store and letting out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

“You seem talkative today.” Huh Yunjin said, appearing from God knows where making you almost jump out of your skin

“Where the hell did you come from?!” you said while catching your breath

“I was waiting for you.” she smiled brightly while intertwining your arm with hers “Also what's up with the early drinking?”

You wanted to pull away from her but you couldn't bring yourself to, instead just letting it happen

“Giselle is what's up.” you let out while scrunching your nose due to being angry just at mentioning Giselle

“Really? I thought you two were super close?” she asked while leading the both of you to a close park

“Yeah until she started acting like I owed her shit,” you said while sitting down on a bench because Yunjin did

“I never liked her.” Yunjin sighed while you grabbed the soju from your bag and popped it open, downing a mouthful of it “Yeah you've told me.” you grumbled while leaning your head on her shoulder, probably muscle memory “So what's up with you why were you at the convenience store? Stalking me or something?” “okay first off I was there first and because there's some sort of romance thing going on with Chaewon and Sakura, it's really suffocating.” Yunjin said while taking the soju bottle from you and drinking some, not as much as you but some.

Hearing her mention Chaewon and Sakura made you chuckle, making Yunjin glance down at you “Do you know something I don't?” that made you chuckle too “Of course I know something, but I'm glad Sakura is finally making a move.”

“I'm sorry, making a move? What is that supposed to mean?”

“it means Kkura decided to grow balls and finally get the girl.” You laugh while finishing the soju bottle and grabbing the other one “Pace yourself Y/n we both know you are a lightweight.” Yunjin said while patting your thigh

“Okay Mom” you laughed while downing the whole bottle making Yunjin jump and try to grab it but you already downed it “You literally did what i just told you not to!”

“Quit complaining…you’re a-lot prettier when you quit nagging.” You said while squinting your eyes and poking her cheek “Hey..that day that we were at that restaurant you were gonna say something but you got cut off by the waiter..what was it?” You said while playing with her fingers

Quick Flashback

“Yknow i alw-“Hi welcome to slowpokes what can i get for you two?” The waitress said while bowing

END OF FLASHBACK BRUH😒

“Oh that” she said while the memory came back to her as she nodded “i was just saying that I wonder if we would have met if we didn’t choose to be idols.” You let out a ohh sound as you nodded “i hope so.” You said while standing up and stumbling because as Yunjin said you’re a lightweight, Yunjin immediately stood up behind you.

“Gosh…you’re so cool Yunjin and so pretty…i love you so so mooch.” You slurred as you slumped onto her

I love you? I love you. I love you. Yunjin thought as she processed your words, it scared her almost to hear you say that, made her hair stand it made her heart burn but in a good way..?

“I think we should get you home.”

The walk to your house was silent but not awkward silent comfortable silent, the only sounds being the sound of your shoes on the sidewalk and the calm waves of the water

The whole time you walked you were clinging onto Yunjin for dear life, and you were mumbling incoherent words but among those words she heard “love you soo————lets get—— together” she knew exactly what you were saying but she chose to ignore it for now, you arrived at your home you waved to her but then turned back around and took a picture of her

And right after you took the photo you squinted at it and said “you look different unnie…” you mumbled with a smile, some fireworks went off, making you gasp and point “fire!” You said happily while jumping, making Yunjin grab your arm and pull you to your house

After lots of stumbling and slurred words you finally arrived at your home

“Bye unnie” you waved as you hugged her, and it was like your body acted on its own as you held her face and pressed your lips to hers,it wasn’t a kiss more like just pushing your lips onto hers bet if you weren’t drunk you woulda done way more😈, it felt normal like it was an everyday thing, she stood there stunned not knowing what to do but when you pulled back she kind of wished you hadn’t

“It girl energy.” You said while striking a pose and flipping your hair making Yunjin laugh and copy you

Your front door immediately swung open as Somi shouted at you “get your ass inside! Are you drunk?! Oh hey Yunjin! Take your ass to bed, thanks for bringing her, goodnight.” Somi beamed as she slammed the door

Yunjin took a while to process the whole interaction just know but when she thought back about a minute ago she realized, you had just kissed her?!!!

The whole way back to the fimmies dorm Yunjin was giggling like a highschooler Cute right?

Bonus

The second Yunjin arrived to the fimmies dorm she was greeted by a lovey-dovey Sakura and Chae-won feeding each other snacks and laughing at a film

Chaewon’s head snapped over to Yunjin “Where were you and why are you blushing like that..?” she said suspiciously making Yunjin clutch her shirt where her heart was dramatically “I got somewhat kissed by an angel.” she smile while practically skipping to her room

“Kill me if I ever act like that.” Chaewon declared while fake vomiting while opening her mouth so Sakura could feed her more.

Masterlist

I put alot of photos idk how i feel abt it tho maybe ill replace it with writing

#jennifer huh #yunjin x you #huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin x you #smau #yunjin #yunjin x reader #g idle #gidle

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laurel-finch · 2 months

Text

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch11: In The Dark

Summary: An unusual case yields new discoveries and old faces... Referenced Episodes: S1 E16 "Shadow" CW: The usual Supernatural shenanigans. Word Count: 4709 Recommended Song: Bad Moon Rising -- Creedence Clearwater Revival Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

I pushed our motel room door open harder than anticipated. My eyes flitted towards Dean, his green ones wide with surprise and his phone held to his ear. I half-smiled in apology and made my way toward the table where he sat.

"You trying to bust the hinges or something?" he asked. My cheeks dusted red and I glared at him as I dropped a bag of gas station goodies on the table.

“Got lunch,” I replied dismissively as I shrugged off my coat and tossed it onto the back of the other rickety chair at the table. “They didn’t have the Black Forest ham sandwiches you like, so you’ll have to make do.”

"Sure, thanks,” he muttered as he turned his body away slightly and returned his attention to his phone. “Right, sorry Sammy," he started again, leaning back in his chair. "Like I was saying, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phone book. I even pulled up her high school photo," he sighed and held his unoccupied hand up, gesturing as if Sam could see him. "Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?"

I laughed and Dean's eyes slid over to me, a smirk resting on his features. He winked and then returned his gaze to the ceiling. I rummaged through the contents of the grocery bag, pulling out my own drink and chicken pot pie. Thank God for hotels having microwaves.

Dean hummed and leaned forward once more, scanning his notebook resting on the table. "Yeah, that I did have some luck with." I straightened and turned to him to see him hunched over his hastily scrawled notes. I moved to stand behind him, staring down at his wrinkled paper. "It's, uh—turns out it's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva."

My finger ran lightly over the sigils and words that I had never seen before. I had no clue what a 'Zoroastrian' was, nor a Daeva. It certainly sounded demonic, which was far above my educational paygrade.

"What's a Daeva?" I heard Sam's voice from the end of the phone. Dean changed his phone to his other hand and hit the speaker button.

"It translates to ‘demon of darkness.’ Zoroastrian demons, and they're savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes. Kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls."

I chuckled. "Pit bulls aren't that bad. Sweethearts, really."

Dean quirked a skeptical brow and Sam laughed breathily from the other end. "How'd you figure that out, Dean?"

Dean huffed in an almost offended way. "Give me some credit, man. You don't have a corner on paper chasin' around here."

"Oh yeah? Name the last book you read."

Dean fell silent and visibly sweat. After a few moments, he finally spoke up and said, "I called Dad's friend, Caleb. He told me, alright?"

I bit back a laugh and hid behind my hands. When I looked up I found Dean already scowling at me and the clear sound of Sam’s laughter over the speaker. I grinned somewhat sheepishly and collected my food from the table. I felt Dean’s eyes burning into me as I strolled to the kitchen and readied my meal.

"Anyway," Dean continued. "Here's the thing: these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured." That piqued my interest and I turned back towards Dean, resting my back against the counter.

"So someone's controlling it?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm sayin'. And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too," he took a deep breath. "These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos." I scrunched my nose in distaste.

"So what do they look like?" Sam's voice was tinged with obvious confusion and worry.

"Well, nobody knows, but nobody's seen 'em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town." Dean smirked and leaned back in his chair again. "Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?"

"Bite me," Sam snapped.

"I can arrange that!" I hollered from the kitchen. Sam laughed and Dean rolled his eyes.

"No, don't!" Dean said quickly, waving his hands wildly. "Bite Meg, Sammy! But don't leave teeth marks-" the line went dead. "Sam? You there?"

"I think he's busy now, Dean," I called over my shoulder as I put my pot pie in the microwave and started it.

"I sure hope so," Dean grumbled in response. "Kid doesn't get laid enough."

I scoffed and made my way back towards the table and Dean. "I'm sure Sam does gets laid enough, not that it's any of your business." I rifled through the plastic shopping bags to pull our food and drinks out. Dean paled as I slid a chicken salad toward him.

"I can't eat this."

"Then I guess you'll starve," I answered with a shrug. "That's what you get for sending me to the store by myself."

"I was doing research!" he argued, thoroughly exasperated, and threw his hands in the air.

"No, Caleb was doing research. Who knows what you were doing. Probably something I don't want to know about." The microwave dinged, signaling to me that my meal was ready. I sauntered towards the kitchen and pulled my dinner out of the microwave.

"You got a pot pie, and I get rabbit food? What kind of injustice is this?" Dean demanded, shoving his salad away from him.

“It’s good for you.”

“So’s pot pie,” he said, lowering his voice to a piteous grumble. “Can’t I just get a bite of yours?”

I turned to glare at him over my shoulder. “Like Hell, Dean. Your version of a ‘bite’ is half the frickin’ meal.”

“You must want me to starve to death-”

“I picked up some of that raspberry vinaigrette you and Sam like.”

He fell silent for a moment and I heard him fishing through the plastic bag again. From across the room I could hear the quiet but not displeased sigh he let out. “At least there’s some meat in it… but you’re still on thin ice.”

—

Dean tapped away at his laptop for a solid thirty minutes before either of us spoke up. He combed through county clerk records, his preferred type of research… which subsequently left me with the mind numbing task of researching a several thousand year old Iranian religion with a fine-toothed comb.

I eyed his father’s journal from where it sat beside Dean. Now wasn’t the time to bring any sort of drama into this case, not when we knew we had a demon on our hands. But God, that phone number… it itched at the back of my mind. How did John know him?

"Holy fuck!" Dean exclaimed. I jumped from my place across the table and met his excited gaze with one of surprise. "How the hell did we not notice this before?"

"What is it?" I asked. "You find something important?"

"Hell yeah, I did! Take a look at this," Dean said as he spun the laptop to face me. His cursor highlighted a line from the deceased man’s obituary, the first victim. "Look at where the banker guy was from."

My eyes trailed over the blue highlighted text. "Lawrence, Kansas," I breathed out, practically a whisper. Dean nodded.

"Now look at our girl Meredith," he said excitedly as he clicked to the next tab. My eyes searched for her birth city on the webpage.

"She's from Lawrence too..." I mumbled and handed the paper back to Dean. "You think there's a connection?"

"Of course, there's a connection! How could there not be?" He stood abruptly and practically jogged towards the door. "I'm going to go find Sam. If we don't get to him soon, he could end up being our next Lawrence victim."

"Dean-" I said, holding up a hand for him to wait. He quickly threw his jacket on and yanked the front door open to find himself face to face with Sam.

"Dude, I need to talk to you," the brothers said in sync, without skipping a beat. Sam pushed past his older brother and into the room, pacing beside one of the beds.

"Meg's the one controlling the Daevas," Sam stated, tossing his hands into the air in frustration. I left my spot at the table and narrowed my eyes in worry.

"What? How do you know?" I demanded.

"I followed her to this abandoned warehouse thing and-" he took a deep breath. "She had an altar there, with that symbol we found in Meredith’s apartment. She was- she was talking to this, this bowl, and telling whoever it was she was talking to that they shouldn't come."

My eyes widened and I turned to meet Dean's. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door contemplatively. I could see him connecting the red string in his mind, pressing each push pin into place until it all made sense.

"So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?" he asked thoughtfully. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as his eyes moved from the floor to his brother.

Sam nodded. "It looked like she was using the black altar to control the thing."

Dean chuckled and nudged me with his elbow. "Looks like Sam's got a thing for the bad girl." I rolled my eyes sky-high. "So what's the deal with this bowl thing?"

"She was talking into it. The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone," Sam replied. I raised a brow.

"Is that a thing witches actually do?" I asked.

"Not all of them- most don't. That's more of a folklore thing, but scrying does have its purposes," Dean answered quickly. "Who was she talking to? The Daeva?"

"No, you said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse." Dean suddenly straightened and moved toward the table. I hurriedly snatched his laptop from his side of the table and handed it to him.

Dean hurriedly thrust his laptop into Sam’s hands and stood beside him, pointing over his brother’s shoulder at the screen. "What I was gonna tell you earlier. I pulled a favor with my-" he cleared his throat, " -friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time."

"What'd we miss?" Sam asked, eyes scanning the papers.

"The two victims," I interjected. "Look at where they were both born."

Sam flipped between the two papers as it dawned on him what we were implying. "Lawrence. They were both from Lawrence, Kansas. Holy crap."

"Yeah," said Dean.

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?"

"I think it's a possibility," Dean answered with a shrug.

"But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?"

"Beats me," he replied. "But I say you and I trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation."

"Don't," I growled firmly. "You'll just tip her off- you'll get hurt."

"We'll stake out the place first," Sam offered, attempting to be reassuring. "We've gotta see who, or what is showing up to meet her."

"And I'm going to need you," Dean used his whole laptop to point at me, "to stay here."

I snarled. "What!? You expect me to let you track down some crazy blonde demon summoner without my help!?"

"What would you be able to do against her!?" he snapped back. "You can't go wolf-mode on her right now, and I doubt you'd be able to take her and a bunch of demon things."

"Have you forgotten that I’m not a dog!? I have thumbs, dumbass! I can use weapons too!” I shouted. I crossed my arms indignantly across my chest and fixed them both with a heated glare. “If I can't take her and a few 'demon things' then you certainly can't either! I literally have built-in fangs and claws, you two only have guns! I'm not letting you two go alone!"

"We won't be going alone!" Dean shouted back. "I have a plan."

I glared as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He dialed a number and leaned back against the table. I watched the brothers exchange glances. Sam looked reluctantly between the two of us but eventually withered under Dean’s heated glare. I scoffed as he stepped out of the motel room, likely to prepare the Impala.

I sat down on the bed, fuming. The dialing finally ended and went to voicemail. Dean swallowed dryly.

"We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom," he started, sounding rather nervous. My eyes widened as I realized just who he was calling. "So, uh, this warehouse – it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." He closed the phone and slid it back into his pocket, running a weary hand over his face.

"You called your fucking dad?" I snarled from my place on the bed. "The guy who hasn't answered a single one of your calls since this whole shit show started!? You're expecting him to show up when you could just take me with you!?"

"Well, it's not like you can do much against her!" he growled back. "You're in no shape to be fighting demons and crazy people!"

"I can handle myself just fine, Dean, fur or not!" I paced up and down the edge of the bed, raking my fingers through my hair. My eyes were swimming with a dull golden color, fighting to get out. "I was raised by hunters too! I know how to fight! Let me help you!"

"You're not coming with us!" he shouted, pushing off the table and stalking towards me.

"Like Hell, I'm not!" I felt that familiar clawing sensation in the back of my mind. She was digging her claws into the barrier, fighting to tear it down. I inhaled sharply, expecting her to fight to put Dean in his place – instead, it dawned on me that she was yearning and fighting for his safety. "Dean, you don't even know what you're walking into!"

"And you do!?" he challenged, practically in my face at this point. "Sam and I can do this without you! This isn't your fight!"

"My fight is your fight! How long is it going to take you to realize that you're part of my pack now!? It's my job to look out for you!"

He scoffed. "Yeah, great job you've been doing there! Last time you tried to help out, someone died! Sam could have died! You could have died!"

My eyes widened and then narrowed just as quickly, a low growl rising in my throat. My wandering hand clutched onto a rather firm pillow. I inhaled deeply, puffing up my chest, and swung the pillow towards Dean, who raised a hand to block it.

"You-!" I screamed and smacked him again, "Are such-!" I hit him in the ribs with the pillow, causing him to drop his raised arms and expose his head, "A fucking-!" I whacked him in the shoulder, "Asshole!" I screamed, slamming the pillow down on his head and sending him stumbling backward.

My chest rose and fell with labored breaths as I watched the red recede from my vision. The door clicked and my wild, golden eyes fixated on Sam as he peeked inside.

"Bad time?" the younger brother asked.

"No, perfect time," Dean grumbled, rubbing his shoulder and doing his best to smooth out his now messy hair. "We just finished." He glared at me, one full of hurt and irritation. I glared right back, standing tall under his scrutiny.

"You sure?" Sam inquired and gestured over his shoulder with his thumb towards the door, "cause I can leave again, if you want, let you get everything off your chests."

"We're fine, Sam," I said, my short temper obvious. "We can talk about it more when we get back. What'd you get from the car?"

"I ransacked the trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything," Sam answered with a nervous laugh and dumped his haul onto the bed furthest from the door.

I wasted no time in helping the boys load their guns and pack their small bags. I had a feeling that there was no point arguing in packing my own. The boys carried on their own conversations as I pondered, lost in thought.

There was something seriously dark swirling overhead – I felt like something terrible was going to happen soon, like everything would come crashing down. It was a foreboding feeling and one that brought that familiar chill down my spine. Something was going to go wrong on this hunt, I could feel it.

The boys were going to get my help whether they liked it or not.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Once again, Sam seemed to understand my frustration. Likewise, I understood why he sided with Dean, although he wasn't outright voicing his opinions. If he had, I might have smothered him. I just wished Dean would understand. I wanted nothing more to protect the brothers, just like I only wanted to protect my pack. I know Dean felt the same way, considering how hard he was fighting to make me stay. So why couldn't he see that I felt the same way, just from the opposite end of the spectrum?

After a few pain-staking goodbyes, the boys were finally prepared to leave me to my own devices while they fended off whatever evil Meg was. God, I wish I could have smacked them hard enough to make them understand.

I huffed as Dean stood in the doorway, an apologetic but confident look on his face. He looked as though he had something he wanted to say but just wasn't sure how. It was the same look he had given me in the bar when I first tried to tell them about the number in the journal.

He lifted a finger to point nervously at me. "Sit," he said. "And stay."

I raised my own middle finger at him, glaring harshly. "Bite me."

He chuckled and turned to leave, calling out over his shoulder. "Don't tempt me, fido!" And with that last remark, the door closed on him, leaving me in the dark, in more ways than one. Alone.

I rushed to the window and drew back the curtains just enough that I could see the drive away, but they wouldn't see me. As soon as I heard the Impala's purr and watched it race out of the parking lot I was off again, rushing around the room.

I stuffed whatever weapons I could find into my small bag, dumping out whatever clothes and utilities I once had in it. Since my first hunt with the boys, I had been sure to pack whatever necessities I may need for either a solo hunt or a situation like this: salt, two lighters (they were notoriously unreliable), holy water, shotgun shells preloaded with rock salt, two knives, one silver and one not (I didn't like to use the silver one) and a pistol with extra bullets. Needless to say, I was prepared, although I would have been more prepared with the help of the brothers.

I checked my pistol to make sure it was loaded and zipped up the backpack, leaving everything easily acceptable but not easy to steal or see. I donned Dean's old coat and slung the bag over my shoulders, marching out the door of the hotel room with fury and confidence licking at my heels.

The boys had to know I would do something like this. Perhaps they thought they could wrap up the case before I made it there on foot.

They were wrong.

—

Surprisingly, it didn't take me long at all to get to the warehouse. Iwas panting with my hands on my knees, gazing up at the sheer scale of the building before me. It must have been seven or eight stories. My stomach felt queasy. My instinct and I could both agree that a skinwalker's place was with all four paws on the ground, not high in the air.

God, the things I do for those boys. They were lucky I put up with this bullshit.

I steeled myself and shrugged my shoulders, preparing to march across the road and enter the building. I was stopped by the odd whining sound of a large truck. My eyes scanned up and down the road until they settled on a black pickup, a rather tall and bulky vehicle. The truck pulled into a side alley a few buildings down and stopped. The engine cut out.

My hackles rose once more, and I felt that unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach. I chalked it up to my nerves about facing my first demon. If my uncle could see me now, I don't know if he'd be terrified or proud. He tried to stay away from demons and magic, and just stuck to good old-fashioned monster hunting. My parents would certainly be terrified...

I tightened my jaw and marched across the street. Despite this being a busy city, there were no cars out tonight. I was thankful for that, the fewer people to see me, the better.

The inside of the building was ratty and honestly a mess. I really hoped it was condemned. If not, someone was going to get seriously hurt in here. My eyes scanned the broken-down elevator shaft that went up to the highest floor.

"No fucking way," I grumbled at the very thought of scaling that monstrosity. Instead, my eyes flitted around the room, searching for any other option, before finally resting on an old wooden door, tightly shut. I grinned and paced towards it, trying the handle and frowning when it didn't budge. I pushed against the door, hoping my weight would make it pop open. It didn't.

With a puzzled frown, I took a step back and rolled up my sleeves. I squared my shoulders and turned slightly to the side, angling my shoulder towards the weak point near the door handle. With a shake of my arms and a preparatory inhale, I launched at the door, ramming into it.

And suddenly I was falling forward with the door as it came off its hinges, a mess of cobwebs raining down on top of me. The door, and I, landed with a crash at the foot of a long flight of stairs. I lay there for a few moments, catching my breath.

"They definitely heard that," I whispered just loudly enough for myself to hear.

I stood and dusted myself off, my eyes following the length of the steps. If I wanted to make it to the boys before they did something stupid, I'd need to hurry.

I ran up the steps as quietly as I could, hoping the pounding I heard was my heart and not my feet. Whatever was up there, I didn't want to alert it to my presence. I was lucky I didn't have a swarm of evil thousand-year-old demon things descending upon me as I ran.

My heart thumped in my chest as I made it to the top of the stairs. In front of me was a rather short hallway with a single dark door at the end, the glow of light from something on the other side peaking through the crack under the door. I licked my lips and tip-toed to the door, nerves rising, hoping to hear something on the other side.

I did in fact hear something. It sounded like a muffled conversation. I put my ear to the door and listened.

"It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all," I heard a woman say. I ground my teeth together as my lips pulled back in a silent snarl. Meg.

"So you killed those people for nothing?" came Dean's unmistakable but muffled voice.

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less," Meg purred in response. I bit back a growl. My blood was boiling and it wasn't long before I was fighting with myself. Should I charge in and risk their safety, or play it safe and sneak in?

My ears pricked at Sam's voice. "Dad. It's a trap for Dad."

Shit. A trap for John? But there was no way he could make it to Chicago in time, was there? Not unless she planned to use him as bait. For a moment, I was glad I had stayed behind. Now I had a chance to warn John and maybe save the boys.

I straightened as my skin suddenly prickled with goosebumps. I felt an itch at the back of my mind, as if urging me for my attention.

My attention was redirected yet again to the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the door. I heard a crash and what sounded like a person tumbling across the floor – one of the brothers. I went to reach for the handle, but something stopped me. A buzzing between my ears.

My fist clenched, struggling to identify the feeling. My eyes widened as I felt pressure in my head.

Duck, ordered a whisper.

And I did. I ducked low enough to see a fist fly over my head and narrowly missed the door handle that I had just been reaching for. With a growl I spun in my crouched position and lunged towards my assailant, flinging them into the door.

The door splintered with a crack, light filling the once dim hallway. I snarled and tossed myself at my assailant as they struggled to stand, landing a harsh blow to their ribs and a kick to their shin. They grunted and dropped low, attempting to tackle me. I side-stepped just in time to see two shadows tear into Meg's flesh and toss her out a seventh-story window like nothing but a heap of trash.

I heard Sam's voice shout my name from beside the once meticulously arranged altar. I didn't have time to look at him before my assailant knocked me to the floor in a tackle. The two of us struggled and I felt them land a harsh blow to my cheekbone and mouth. Blood careened down my lips and dribbled into my mouth.

Suddenly, the weight was being dragged off of me and I flailed as a set of hands grabbed me under my arms, dragging me away. I kicked and screamed, fighting against whoever held me as an arm wrapped around my torso, struggling to hold me still.

"Easy, tiger!" shouted Dean, from his place beside my assailant, his hands extended toward me in an appearing gesture. My sight cleared enough to rest on the man before me. He was tall and his features were dark, a line of blood dripping down his temple from where I had hit him. He scowled at me and I glared back, struggling to get at him and fight. My eyes widened, seeing Dean's hand on the guy's shoulder.

"It's OK!" shouted Sam near my ear, struggling to hold me still and calm me down. "It's alright, we know him!"

"Who the fuck is he then!?" I snapped back and dropped my arms, ceasing my struggle. Sam let go and helped me stand, a hand under my elbow to steady me. His voice was filled with awe and his eyes were wide with shock.

"He's our dad," he said, quietly. My own eyes widened to the size of saucers, flitting between the two shocked brothers and their raggedy father. My round eyes locked with his brown ones.

"John?"

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scolpimpisdiary · 2 years

Text

From Me To You-Part One

Pannacotta Fugo x Fem!Reader🍰

SFW! No Advisory Warnings Needed

Word Count:1,868

Part Two Link

The both of you had just gotten back from a pretty gruesome mission. Half the team was banged up except you and Fugo, the both of you only attaining minor cuts and bruises. Once he was done bandaging up a weeping Narancia and you took care of Mista’s bullet hole wounds, he quietly walked over to the table and sat next to you as your hands nursed a book.

"Hey.." Fugo muttered, catching your attention. You shot him a warm smile as you closed your book. "What's up? How's Narancia doing?"

He let out an exhausted sigh, mumbling "He's fine, kind of.." then plopped down onto the chair next to you. Pulling out a laptop, Fugo began taking various notes. His head bobbed slightly, and his eyelids drooped.

A look of concern crept onto your face. "..Don't you wanna go home and get some sleep?"

Fugo shook his head in disagreement, continuing to type down various words and phrases onto the luminescent device. "No...I'm almost done and need to have this finished for my tutoring session with Narancia tomorrow.."

You rolled your eyes and responded. "Okay, suit yourself"

After that, you scooched over to his chair a little, gently resting your head on his shoulder to watch him type. His calm, focused appearance was so cute you'd think. Fugo was both too distracted and tired to notice any of this, until you spoke of course.

"So what's all this anyway?"

He glanced up at you for a second, his cheeks soon shifting from its usual pale hue to a reddish one. ''Oh, u-um.." Fugo cleared his throat. " Right now me and Narancia are m-moving on to a new math subject...''

"So he's finally getting the hang of it then? That's amazing!" You cheered, wrapping your arm around Fugo's and squeezing it slightly. "It's cool that you're doing that for him.."

"Yeah.." the blond replied. The both of you continued talking for a bit, your head still resting on Fugo's shoulder as your eyes scanned the computer screen. Unbeknownst to you, he could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

Mista nudged Narancia, snickering lowly as they witnessed Fugo burning up from your display of affection. "Well that woke him up!" he said, as Abbacchio soon joined in with a low chuckle.

After a couple more moments, you checked the time on your watch, realizing it was 6:00pm. You usually stayed with the crew at Libeccio till 8, but you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow as you had to go shopping and tend to other duties around Naples.

“Leaving already?” Abbacchio called out, seeing you walk away from the table with your things. “Yep. Gotta go to the store tomorrow”

“Can I come with? I can help you carry bags!” Narancia beamed.

“Yeah no, last time you made me buy you a bunch of sweets..” You told the slim-figured boy, smirking.

“Aw..”

“Narancia, we have a lesson tomorrow remember?” Fugo interjected. You chuckled to yourself as the black-haired boy let out a low groan of displeasure. When making your way out of Libeccio, the echoes of the crew’s chatting grew quieter and quieter.

Once Mista was sure you were gone, he let out a mischievous smirk and nudged Fugo’s shoulder. “Listen, it’s pretty obvious that you guys like each other. Why not take Y/n out somewhere nice and get to know her a little more?”

"Like a date?"

"Yeah man, that's exactly what i mean."

Fugo quickly shook his head. “Well I can’t..”

“Why not?” Narancia questioned. And even though he didn't say anything, Abbacchio was silently following along.

Fugo went quiet for a moment, this time the crew was staring at him, not saying a word as they waited for the blonde’s response.

After a couple moments, Fugo finally spoke. “ it’s because Bucciarati said that we can’t really get too close to our teammates..."

Brief looks were exchanged between everyone until Mista started laughing and blurted out “Listen man, I get that you can be a goody-two-shoes but come on, nobody listens to all those damn rules Bucciarati makes up! Just enjoy yourself.”

Narancia soon joined in on the discussion. “Yeah, remember that time on Valentines' Day where he said we weren’t allowed to have Valentines or accept gifts from anyone?”

Abbacchio then shook his head at Narancia’s response. “That part does make sense though, people could easily tamper with gifts. But some of the rules he makes up can be unreasonable.”

Mista went up to Fugo, loosely snaking one arm around his shoulder. “I guess all I'm trying to say is, just be yourself, enjoy your life and hang out with Y/n. I’m pretty sure Bucciarati isn’t gonna care. Well, maybe a little but he’ll just have to deal with it!”

He continued to encourage the nervous boy over the next few hours. Once everyone had called it a night and went home, Fugo sat in his room and thought for a while.

“Maybe they’re right..” he mumbled to himself.

Even with all of the advice given to him, he still didn’t have a single clue about how to approach you for a date. Fugo never paid much attention to relationships in the past. Coupled with his anxieties surrounding it and just not being that experienced, he didn’t know what to actually say to you.

As Fugo’s mind was preoccupied with thoughts, his eyes wandered over to a sheet of paper that was accompanied by a worn-down ballpoint pen resting peacefully against the hardwood desk. He let out a low hum.

“A pen..and paper?”

After a couple seconds, an idea popped into his head. Fugo decided to confess his feelings toward you the best way he knew how. He let out a small sigh, "Maybe I don't have to say anything at all.."

Grabbing the pen and paper, Fugo began to write.

❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎

It was morning time, and you had awoken to the sound of a frenzied knock on your front door. Immediately jolting out of bed, you groggily stumbled out of your room and into the hallway to investigate. As you carefully opened your door and peeked outside, a small envelope with a flower caught your eye.

“What is this?”

As you examined it closer, you’d realized that it had your name on it. You opened the letter and read it, but couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching you from afar. Your eyes inspected the area once more for any suspecting person but still couldn’t see anyone nearby.

You decided to shrug it off and focus back onto the letter. When you finished reading it, a smile curled onto your lips.

It was a short love letter from Fugo, asking you to go to dinner with him. It was simple and a little old-fashioned for your taste, but you admired it either way.

You held the letter close to you for a second and then walked back inside and closed the door.

A loud rustling came from a hedge nearby, only for Fugo to emerge from around it seconds later. He dusted himself off, making sure to rid himself of any tiny twigs or jagged leaves that may have gotten hooked onto the holes of his outfit. He sighed and glanced at your front door one more time. “I hope it worked..” Fugo told himself, making his way to Libeccio to catch up with the crew for the day.

❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎♡︎❣︎

“You gave her a fucking letter?!” Mista projected in disbelief. Fugo shook his head. “Now hold on! Last time I checked, you told me to be myself!”

He then stood up and pointed to an unsuspecting Abbacchio who quietly sipped on his tea in the corner. “ Hey Abbacchio, letters aren’t that bad right?”

“Don’t drag me into this shit Fugo.” He spoke, collecting his beverage and exiting the room to as an effort to escape the impending drama. Narancia continued to watch from the guidelines as Mista covered his hands with his face, letting out an exasperated sigh. “No shit I told you to be yourself! But a letter? Like, mailbox letter? Come on man it isn’t 1950! Y/n is definitely gonna say no.”

This hurt Fugo way more than Mista could tell. He was angry, sure, but also upset at the fruitless beration. He was only trying his best, after all.

With his head held low and lips that were curled in a frown, the teenage boy was about to turn away and leave the room, that is until he heard a familiar pair of footsteps make their way inside. Fugo turned around to see you near the doorway, holding his letter. Mista and Narancia were caught off guard by this as well, the two assuming that you would be running errands.

“Hey Y/N!” Narancia shouted, waving at you. “I thought you were supposed to be busy or something!”

You nodded and walked over to the crew.

“Yeah, but I’ve actually finished early, and decided to stop by and see how you guys were doing..” You then turned to Fugo. “Hey can I talk to you real quick?”

He seemed surprised for a second, his wide deep-hued eyes easily giving him away.

Fugo then adjusted his tie out of nervousness. “Sure..”

As the two of you left, both Narancia and Mista gave the boy a look of concern, wondering how the conversation between you both would play out after the letter.

You and Fugo sat outside the restaurant, far away from the prying eyes and ears of your crew members. He looked tense and started rambling to you almost instantly.

“It’s about the letter isn’t it? I knew it was a shit idea! I’m so sor-“

“No no, not at all..actually..” you replied, causing him to pause in his words. A little taken a back, he stayed silent for a moment and waited for you to continue.

“..I thought it was cute. I’d love to go out with you Fugo”

“Really?”

You nodded, a warm tinge of red creeping onto both you and Fugo’s cheeks as he struggled to hide an evident smile. You couldn’t help but feel warm at his genuine display of happiness. Seeing the most authentic version of him had always delighted you.

Both you and Fugo continued to engage in conversation, mainly arrangements for the date, agreeing to tomorrow night around 7:30pm.

Later on as he entered back into Libeccio, he quietly gathered his things in order to head back home. Both Mista and Narancia rushed up to him. “So,” The older teen nudged, “what did she say?”

If the blonde’s rose-tinted cheeks didn’t give it away, the shy grin and slight stuttering definitely did. “W-well..I have a date..”

The two teens high-fived. Narancia was the most excited out of the pair, jumping up and down as if he were the one that was going on a date. But truth be told, he was truly happy for Fugo. “I knew you could do it man!” the boy told him. Mista was a bit surprised, but still proud nonetheless.

He patted Fugo on the back. “Hey, maybe I was wrong. But that doesn’t matter anymore, now we gotta get you ready for that date!”

#jojo bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba x reader #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #jojo fugo #jjba fugo #pannacotta fugo #fugo x reader #fugo #pannacotta fugo x reader

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

Text

Library of Ashes

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason takes an interest in the family business (Gotham’s oldest library) when he stumbles upon a secret collection of journals, photo albums, and a book written by his mother.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Kate Kane, Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Lonnie Machin, Original Character(s)

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Library AU, No Capes AU, World Travel, Jason Todd-centric, Third Person POV, Hurt Jason Todd, Jason Todd Has Issues, Angst, Mystery, Mentioned Catherine Todd, Mentioned Willis Todd, Mentioned Sheila Haywood, Claustrophobic Jason Todd

Chapter One: Fresh From Belize

The car hit a bump in the road, and Jason took a sharp inhale, removing his glasses. He ran a hand over his face, staring out the window at the foggy city. “How long ya visitin’ for?” the driver questioned.

“I live here,” Jason mumbled as he checked the time on his phone. “I’ve been abroad for the past five years.”

“Oh yeah?” the driver questioned. “Where’d you go?”

“Costa Rica, Madagascar, Italy… You name it,” Jason answered, “I fished for a few months in Iceland, worked in a restaurant in Northern Italy, and taught a salsa class in Japan.”

“Sounds like you lived a full life,” the driver replied. Jason nodded.

The air smelled the same. Piss, water, and chemicals. Jason wrinkled his nose. “You got a home to go to?” the driver questioned as he pulled in front of the Gotham library. It was a four-story building as ornate as it was tall. Its stained glass windows, large doorways, and a garden that seemed unphased by time itself.

“Unfortunately, yes… Thanks for the ride,” Jason replied as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “You mind popping the trunk for me?”

The driver popped the trunk, and Jason stepped out, grabbed his bag, and thanked the man for picking him up from the airport. Stretching his arms and legs as he entered the library, he took his glasses from his pocket, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. Jason hadn’t told anyone he was back in Gotham. Not that he expected a warm welcome. Bruce stood in the children’s area, mingling with parents over hot cocoa and cookies. He wore a turtleneck and almost looked like a family man. Almost… If he hadn’t been flirting with one of the single mothers in the group. Jason scoffed as he attempted to sneak past the front desk to the staircase. He nearly made it to the staircase before Bruce sped over. “Jason? Is that you?” Bruce questioned. Jason stopped in his tracks, his back turned to his father as he nodded solemnly.

“Can I get settled in upstairs before we fight?” Jason mumbled. Bruce grabbed his arm.

“I don’t wanna fight, Jason… Can we-? Do you wanna talk?” Bruce asked. “Where’ve you been?”

Jason sighed. “Can’t we skip the niceties and fight, so I could finish unpacking and get something to eat?” Jason questioned. Bruce held on. “Okay... We can talk, but I’m gonna unpack and order in.”

“Okay,” Bruce replied, following him to the fourth floor. “Nobody’s lived here in over a year… So, it might be a little-.” Jason knocked on the bricks in the wall until he found the loose one. He pulled it out and took the key to unlock the door.

“I bet you didn’t change anything… You even kept the key in the same-.” Jason turned the light on, and his heart dropped into his stomach. “What the fuck is this?”

Jason walked straight toward the pegboard in the center of the room. “Jason, I needed to know you weren’t-. I-.”

“I sent a postcard on your birthday,” Jason interrupted as he took the sticky notes off the board.

“Once,” Bruce replied through clenched teeth.

Jason took his backpack off and set his things nicely on the table. A silk cloth, a toothbrush, a bar of soap, a hairbrush, a new box of toothpaste, a pocket-sized journal, a pen, and a portable cassette player. “Cool, so are we fighting now?” Jason snapped. Bruce shook his head.

“I missed you… For half a decade, I agonized over your loss-.”

Jason pulled a single pair of pajamas from his bag. “I ran out on you… I didn’t die. Don’t think I could’ve made that clearer in the postcard,” Jason mumbled.

Bruce sat in the easy chair, staring at him. “You’re parting your hair there again,” Bruce whispered, “Like when you were a little boy-.”

“Uh-huh… Well… I’m not a little boy, Bruce. Does the phone up here still work?” Jason questioned. Bruce nodded. Jason stood up and grabbed the house phone from the kitchen. He stood at the kitchen island, dragging the numbers in the old rotary phone.

“Welcome to Pretty Pauletta’s, where the pizza’s always perfect and the party never stops. Can I take your order?” a woman answered.

“Uh, yeah… Can I get the special with everything on it, a side of fries and a Coke?” Jason replied.

“Diet? Cherry-?”

“Regular, thanks… Bruce, do you want something?” Jason asked casually without making eye contact.

“No, thank you, Jason,” Bruce whispered. Jason could hear the defeat in Bruce’s voice. It wouldn’t be long before Bruce walked out. Jason recited his payment information and thanked the woman before hanging up. “Where did you come from?”

“Belize. I was only there for a few months,” Jason replied.

Bruce nodded, staring intently at Jason. "You look good," Bruce complimented, "You've got color in your cheeks again…"

"Did I ever have any color in my cheeks here?" Jason asked. Bruce chewed his lip. "Are you gonna have a problem with me staying up here?"

"On the contrary, I want you to stay… On one condition," Bruce replied.

"I don't give a shit about this library, Bruce-."

"You work here, and I'll let you live here for free as long as you like. And I'll unfreeze your trust fund-."

"I don't give a shit about my trust fund," Jason interrupted as he hung his jacket up. "There's nothing you could say to convince me to work-."

"I won't call or visit unless you ask me to," Bruce replied. Jason screwed up his face. "Do we have a deal?"

"Not so much as a pleasant hello?" Jason asked. Bruce shook his head. "Fine." Bruce shook his hand. "Deal starts tomorrow. You look like you've got questions." It was his attempt at being cordial.

“Why’d you come back?” Bruce questioned.

“I don’t know… I got stabbed in Belize, and somewhere in between the two weeks I spent in some random hospital fighting infection and coming home to find out a water pipe burst in my apartment, and I was fired from my job while at the hospital,” Jason answered. “I don’t think I’ll stay, though.”

“How long were you in Belize?” Bruce asked.

Jason opened the cabinets. “A few months,” Jason replied, “Three. Maybe four…”

“TV works… Sometimes I come up here to watch the news,” Bruce mumbled. Jason turned the tv on.

Bruce leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair. Jason couldn’t relax to sit down, so he unpacked his suitcase. After ten minutes of uninterrupted silence, someone rang the doorbell. “Sure, you don’t want any pizza?” Jason questioned. Bruce shook his head. Jason tipped the delivery man and took his food to the coffee table.

“Why didn’t you call home when you got stabbed?” Bruce questioned.

Jason shrugged as he ate. “It wasn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me in five years,” Jason replied, “I hope you don’t mind. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.” He devoured his pizza and fries before tidying up.

“I should let you get to sleep,” Bruce whispered. Jason nodded. Bruce stood up and reached to mess up Jason’s hair. Jason flinched away. “Right… Goodbye, Jason.”

“Bye, Bruce,” Jason replied. Bruce let himself out, and Jason hid his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have come here...”

He allowed himself to breathe before unfolding a blanket from the linen closet and setting up a hammock in the corner of the living room. After his shower, he curled up in his hammock and let the gentle rocking of the hammock lull him to sleep.

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princessmisery666 · 2 years

Text

Nobody But You, Forever.

Summary: Rick wants kids; you don’t. It’s a deal-breaker for Rick, so the relationship ends. Until Rick realizes he can have everything he wants, even if he has to take it by force.

Warnings: dark themes, implied forced pregnancy, smut, stalking, language, kidnapping, deception, imprisonment, threat of harm.

W/C: 1.8k

Rating: E (explicit - 18+)

Characters: Rick Flag

Pairing: Rick Flag x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: Rick Flag Square Filled: Free - Dark!Rick // Stalking

Notes: Set after The Suicide Squad movie - spoilers for the ending. I do not accept the ending, so I fixed it - or made it worse 🤷🏻‍♀️

A/N: This has been sitting in my WIPS too long, and I’ve been nervous about posting as it isn’t my usual stuff. This is my attempt at dark themes; there’s darker out there, though.

Betas: @writercole - read through to make sure it wasn't total bollocks // @cockslut-padalecki checked the smut cause I require her validation // @deanwinchesterswitch made sure I was using all the oxford commas 🤣 // thanks to all of them but all mistakes remain my own.

Graphics: title card images google and canva

Master Lists: Main // Rick Flag Bingo

Smut from the jump so fic is under the cut.

Nobody But You, Forever.

The wet heat of your pussy was like nothing he’d ever had. You always fucked him so good he felt like he should pay you. You told him all you wanted was his love and affection, but it wasn’t enough. Not for Rick.

“I wanna put a baby in you,” Rick says, using your hips to steer you back onto his cock. “Fill you up with my cum. Would you like that, darlin’?”

“Rick,” you growl, crumpling the bedsheets in your fists. “Shut up and fuck me.”

You clench around him and scream his name in the song that he knew meant you’d cum, and he releases himself inside of you, snapping his hips sharply to make sure it goes as deep as it can. Hoping this is the time that will get you pregnant.

Once you’ve caught your breaths and cleaned up, Rick lays on his back and pulls you close to his side, your head resting on his chest.

“I love you,” he sighs contently.

“I love you too,” you say, placing a kiss over his heart.

He smooths his hand over your stomach, “maybe in nine months, they’ll be another one we can love too.”

You laugh and scoff at the same time. “Oh god, I hope not.”

“What do you mean you hope not?” he scrambles to sit up, effectively pushing you off him. “Don’t you want my baby?”

“I don’t want anyone’s baby. I don’t want kids.”

“What do you mean you don’t want kids?” Rick asks, completely bewildered. “You love your nephew, and you're so good with him.”

“Yeah, cause I can give him back,” you chuckle, “but I don’t want my own, I never have.”

“But why?”

“I don’t want children,” you repeat, climbing out of bed and grabbing his crumpled shirt from the floor. “Why does there have to be a reason beyond that I just don’t want them?”

“Cause it doesn’t make sense.”

“Rick, we had this conversation when you asked me to move in here, like two years ago,” you remind him, stomping into the bathroom. “I told you then I didn’t want any, so why is it suddenly an issue?”

“Cause I thought you’d change your mind, and I thought you loved me?”

“I do love you!”

Rick shakes his head. “Obviously not enough.”

Anything for a buck. Humans are diabolical. Vile even. But Rick doesn’t see the irony. The ‘pharmacist’ hands over the blister pack, and Rick has to admit that the guy who probably samples more of his merchandise than he dispenses it has done a fantastic job. It’s more than passable. If he didn’t know any better and hadn’t just handed over two thousand dollars for them, he’d believe they were the real deal.

“You sure it isn’t harmful?” Rick asks one more time to be sure. Again the irony goes completely over his head.

“It’s just vitamins, man.”

Vitamins packaged to simulate birth control. Finally, Rick’s plan is in motion.

Rick’s been watching you every day, following you to work, fading into the background of your social events, stalking your social media accounts. It’s a game to him; he thrives on it, especially when you notice him. He’ll let you see him for a fraction of a second and then disappear, watching as you frantically search for him. Since he decided he wanted you back, he’s been planting the seed of his reappearance for weeks.

He’s not worried that you won’t be home when he shows up unexpectedly because he knows your schedule like he knows every scar on his own body. He wonders, sometimes, if that’s what tipped him over the edge. Peacemaker gave him the worst of them, and Waller, not ready to give up her dutiful soldier, had somehow brought him back. Fuck knows how, but he never questioned it.

He understands some of his thoughts, and, most recently, his actions aren’t those of a mentally stable person. However, his morals and emotional stability were the price paid for whatever voodoo deals with the devil Waller had to make to bring him back. Waller gave him his revenge against the asshole Peacemaker, and since then, all he feels is anger and that the world owes him. So he’ll take whatever he wants from whomever he wants, and Waller can deal with the consequences. That didn’t change when he found you.

For a while, he thought he’d found a light, something to bring him out of the darkness. However, like all good things in Rick’s life, it didn’t last, two years later, it was all over. He wanted kids; you didn’t. There was no compromise to be made, so Rick decided to leave.

Fast forward one year, and Rick tried to find a new woman. He’d had two relationships, actually, but it was as transparent as glass that you were the one for him. He wanted children; that hadn’t changed, but he wanted you to have his children. No one else would do.

He knocks on the red door, a bottle of your favorite wine and a bouquet of yellow roses in hand.

“Rick,” you say, surprised but not necessarily unhappy to see him.

“Hey,” he replies, charm and sincerity pushed to the max. “I know this is out of the blue, but…”

“It’s been a year,” you nod, “to the day, actually.”

He grins - you've been thinking about him too then. This won’t be hard at all; he’ll have you eating out of the palm of his hand before sunrise.

“I made a mistake,” he implores, “I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have taken me this long to figure it out. Can we try again?”

The smallest of smug smiles crosses your lips, and he’s not sure he’ll even need to use the crocodile tears he was totally prepared to shed to convince you.

You step back, pulling the door open further. “Come in; we can talk.”

Two drinks, a few sweet words, and a fierce kiss were all it took to get you naked and on your knees.

“Fuck,” Rick whines as you suck his cock as if you’re trying to suck the soul from his body.

Good luck with that - he thinks with a devilish smirk. You’ve let him into your home and your mouth; there’s no escaping him now. You let him pop from your mouth and lick a line from base to tip before he helps you to your feet.

“I’ve missed you,” you say, drawing him to your mouth.

“I’ve missed you too,” he tells you, “but you’ll never have to miss me again. I’m not going anywhere.”

The blister pack of your pills is on the nightstand to the left of the bed; replacing them will be easier than taking candy from a baby.

A month later.

You look so peaceful when you're sleeping, no worry lines or pursed lips, and Rick, caught up in the mastery of his plan paying off, perhaps watched you too long. He’d moved you to his desired location, a secluded cabin far from civilization under the guise of a vacation. Last night he laced your non-alcoholic wine with a sedative and waited until you’d fallen asleep. He should have done it then, but he’d been too enraptured under the realization that he’d won.

He doesn’t want to disturb your sleep, but when Rick pierces the needle into the vein of your arm, you flinch and wake. The vial is full before your grogginess wears off and he places it on the nightstand. He pulls the needle out and puts a cotton ball on the small wound.

“Rick, what’re-” you start, your eyes widening when you see the tube of your blood, “what’s going on?”

“You should be pregnant by now,” he says, matter of factly. “I need to send your blood for some tests.”

You laugh nervously. “What’re you talking about?”

“We’ve had sex every day for the last month, you haven’t got your period yet, so I think you’re pregnant.”

“I’m just a little late, that’s all. Besides, I’m on birth control, and we talked about this. You said you’d changed your mind, that you could live without kids as long as you had me.”

He puts a gentle hand on your cheek, “I want it all, baby. And you’re going to give it to me, whether you like it or not.” A whole range of emotions crosses your face; worry, panic, fear, confusion. He rolls his eyes. How are you not getting it? “I swapped out your birth control for vitamins that night I showed up at your door a month ago. I brought you here so we can be together, happy, away from the world. Just me and you and, in nine months, our child.”

You scramble off the bed and run out of the room. He’s disappointed but not surprised. He leisurely follows; you're trapped, you have nowhere to go, only you don't seem to understand that.

Slowly he strolls down the stairs, watching as you frantically try to open the front door. A step creaks under his foot, and you spin to face him.

“You’re wasting your time,” he explains, “this place is locked up tighter than Alcatraz.”

You run again anyway, toward the back of the cabin. But he knows unless you have climbing equipment, you will plummet to your death off a hundred-foot cliff face.

“Not that way either, sweetheart,” Rick calls, lazily following after you.

You bolt toward him, and he grabs you around the waist as you try to run past him. He swings you around and plants you flat on your feet but pushes you against the nearest wall, his arm pressed against your throat.

“All this stress is bad for the baby,” he sneers in your ear, “now be a good girl and just accept your fate. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want, but don’t think I won’t if you fight back.”

“Rick, this isn’t you,” you say, “this is crazy.”

His fist crumbles the weak plaster of the wall a millimeter from your ear. “I don’t like that word!”

“I’m sorry,” you console, and he digs his arm in deeper, enough to make breathing difficult. “I’m sorry.”

“Why can’t you see I just want to make you happy?”

“Then let me go,” you choke out, tears pricking your eyes. “Please.”

He wets his lips, grabs your hand, and forces you to grope his growing erection. “I like it when you beg,” he admits, “you really know how to make me happy, don’t you darlin’.” he presses his mouth to yours, and when you don't respond, he pulls back. “Don’t make me teach you a lesson.”

“Please, Rick, I…” The words fade as a sob wells in your throat.

He licks into your mouth and you respond. Playing along, you willingly stroke his hardening cock, and he moves his hand to cup your cunt.

“I love you, baby,” he says, pulling back to look into your eyes. “And I’m going to take care of you,” he promises, “forever.”

Master Lists: Main // Rick Flag Bingo

#rickflagbingo #rickflag #rickflagsmut #rickflagxyou #rick flag x you #rick flag x reader #rick flag #smut #angst #dark!rick flag #dc #the suicide squad #suicide squad #SS #TSS

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bakuhoes-dumbass · 3 years

Text

Aberration - Chapter 2

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Yay, here’s the second chapter of my new AU! It’s a little shorter but I promise chapters will get longer as we go.

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

~~~

Aberration Masterlist

~~~

"Now, on to your next subject. Inmate 04, Eijiro Kirishima." You flip the page of your inmate profiles to see a picture of a red-haired man. "He is of a higher danger level, so make sure to keep your guard up. And for the love of God, under any circumstances…

Do not touch him."

Only slightly acknowledging his warning, you look down at your notes, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the words on the page. "He suffers from Erotomania? Interesting…"

Aizawa nods. "Ah, yes. A very rare condition indeed, especially in males. The affected person strongly believes that another individual is in love with them. This delusion develops and persists despite clear evidence to the contrary."

"That's a very exciting find. I can't wait to meet him." Your eyes light up, quite intrigued.

Aizawa sighs and gestures with his head. "Follow me."

Kirishima's room was only a few doors down from Tokoyami's. Once again, Aizawa presses his hand to a key code and you hear the door unlock, following a buzzer. You slowly make your way into the room. It mirrors Tokoyami's down to the last detail, the only difference being a redhead was currently doing pushups.

He barely acknowledges a person stepping into his room, eyes flitting to your form and back to the ground. It takes him a moment to realize it was someone new. As soon as he does, his eyes widen and he springs onto his feet, slightly startling you.

"Oh! Hello there! You're new!"

You nod your head and smile at the red-head. "That I am. My name is Y/N and I'm the newest scientist at this facility. My role here is to get to know and observe you all to help further our findings for a cure." You choose to leave out the 'friends' part, as something about him makes you weary. You don't need anything being misinterpreted.

"Hello there, Y/N! My name is Kirishima!" He takes a step towards you but is suddenly stopped by a lower force. You look down to see his ankles chained to the heavy-duty bed frame, connected to him by quirk-canceling cuffs. You look back up to see him looking at you intensely, with a shark-toothed smile. "Man, you're really pretty!"

You swallow thickly, but keep your smile. "That's very kind of you to say, Kirishima. Now, if I may." You take a seat at the desk like you did with Tokoyami. Kirishima follows suit and sits across from you on the bed. His smile never wavers, making you slightly uneasy. You ignore it and turn to a blank page in your notebook. "Now, if you could please state your full name, age and date of birth?"

He gives you a chuckle and points to himself proudly with his thumb. "I'M Eijiro Kirishima! I'm 22 years old and my Birthday is October 16th!"

You giggle softly at his extroverted personality. "Ahh, same birth month as Tokoyami." You mumble to yourself. His ears perked up and his smile faltered slightly.

"You met Tokoyami already?"

"Hm?" You look up and smile fondly. "Ah yes, I have. He was the first one. A very nice young man."

You look back down at your notes, failing to see Kirishima's eye twitch slightly. He returns to his signature smile as you look up at him again. "And what is your quirk?"

"Oh, it's so cool! I can harden my entire body to an extreme. I can make myself a shield or a weapon! Pretty manly, am I right?" Kirishima wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to chuckle.

"That is definitely a unique one, Kiri." You, once again, fail to notice the way his eyes light up at the nickname, too busy looking down at your notes. "Now I see here that you've been charged with Stalking and 2 counts of second degree murder. Is that correct?"

"Yup! Although I don't understand how it would be considered 'Stalking', when she always knew I was around. She was okay with it, too! I mean, we WERE in love, you know." He furrows his brows.

You raise a brow and write down everything he says. "Care to continue explaining what happened? Why were you brought into this facility?"

Kirishima sighs and rests his chin on his hand, a dazed look on his face. "Well, you see. There was this girl. We were totally, completely head over heels for each other. You've probably heard of her, Kim Hyuna?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. Yeah, you heard of her. She is one of the biggest idols around right now, extremely pretty and extremely talented. She has millions of fans from around the world. You already can see where the direction of this story is headed.

He continues with a wide smile. "We used to go out on dates everywhere. To the mall, the salon, even to her dorms. We were so in love." His dazed expression turns sour. "Then that stupid boy shows up outta nowhere. He took her from me. He dared to take something so precious from me. So, I couldn't take it anymore and, uh, kinda killed them."

You watched him rub the back of his neck sheepishly, like the situation was no more than a mere broken dish he dropped on accident. You nod your head carefully, writing the last bit of information down. Clicking your pen, you look up and give the young man a fake smile.

"Well, that's it for today, Kirishima. I must take my leave, but I'll be back to run some tests soon."

Kirishima frowns and quickly stands up. "W-Wait, already?"

You gather up your notes and clipboard. "Yes, unfortunately. I do have some other patients I need to get to before-" as you go to stand up, your foot gets caught under the chair leg and you trip. You accidentally fall forward and into something hard. Looking up, you realized you fell against Kirishima himself, your hands splayed out against his chest.

His eyes widen, staring down at your hands against his chest, something shifting in his eyes. Before you're able to pull your hands away, his own reach up and snatch your wrists, holding them in place. A blush appears on the apples of his cheeks.

"Y-Y/N. I-I had no idea you felt the same."

Your eyes widen in fear. You attempt to tug your hands away, but his iron grip tightens into a bruising force. "Kirishima, I would advise you to kindly let go of me. Please, don't misunderstand the situation."

His grin widens, showcasing his sharp teeth. Red eyes bore into yours with a wild look. You hear the door buzz behind you and a flood of voices coming in. You feel a pair of arms reach around you and hands grip your elbows. Two pairs of hands each grab Kirishima by the arms and force him to release his grip on you. You watched two of Aizawa's assistants hold down a struggling Kirishima as you were forcibly dragged out of his room.

Once safely outside, you were spun around to meet the eyes of a fuming and worried doctor. "Are you alright, Y/N?" Aizawa's eyes travel along your body, doing a quick examination to make sure nothing was injured.

You nod your head and rotate your slightly bruised wrists. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little shaken up."

Aizawa sighs. "Didn't I say NOT to touch him? His obsession tends to solidify with physical contact."

You wince. "I know. This time it was an accident. I tripped and he just happened to, uh, be the 'wall' I fell against." You think back to the moment you fell against Kirishima. His chest felt almost rock solid, not like a normal human body would be. Now you're thinking that his quirk leaked through the cuffs and that thought scares you.

"Nobody said you were clumsy when you were hired," he sighs and runs a hand down his tired face. "There are still 9 other inmates you need to check with. And 6 out of the 9 are above Kirishima's danger level. Are you still up for it today?"

You shake out your hands and nod your head. "Yes! I am. A little scare never bothered me. This is my job."

Aizawa hummed in reply and flipped through his clipboard, stopping on a page. "Inmate 09, Keigo Takami. Mafia leader. He's a level 7 as well, but doesn't have delusions like Inmate 04 does. While he's very dangerous, he's a little more tolerable." Aizawa hesitates before continuing. "Er, minus the excessive flirting."

You sigh and flip through Keigo's information. "Oh goodie. Well, let's get this over with." You follow Aizawa to Keigo's door and once it buzzes, you enter the pristine, white room.

"Good afternoon Mr. Keigo, my name is Y/N and I'll-" You look up from your notes to see a half naked man with blonde hair and bright red bird wings lounging on his bed. Your jaw drops and you hold your clipboard up in front of your suddenly heated face.

Keigo looks over to you with his brows raised. "Well well, looks like we've got ourselves a new baby bird. How…" The handsome man's lips turn up into a cocky smirk.

"...interesting."

~~~

Taglist: @theblueslytherin @sterassion @somechick30003 @meena-in-a-nutshell @justtj-andnonumberspls @zombieonna @amajikiwife @yulifee @atexansadventureintokinkandlife @ep-ip-ha-ny @hcneymilkks @pastelmoonwitche @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @railmeddy @unlimitedfirepheonix @confaegion @drownedbytears @burntcrips @silverqueenie @the-lady-writes-what @awkward-confused @themotherofmoons @ihaveakoreanseoul @1-800-multifandomness @tragically-here @andyronii @sunnnyshark @henhouse-horrors @dabis-s-whore

(If your name is bolded, I couldn’t tag you)

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sugarylawliet · 3 years

Note

In Death Note, you know the part where the L placed spy cams everywhere within Yagami’s house?

What if Light and his girlfriend start doing the deeds to look like normal hormones teens?

YES OMG i’ve actually thought of this before so i’m so glad someone requested it LMFAO

> warnings: swearing, smut, degradation, sir kink, kind of exhibition??

Light tossed his backpack onto his bed, loosening his red tie before collapsing onto the bed himself, letting his exhaustion express itself in the most natural way he thought possible. It’s hard to act natural when you’re being watched; you almost forget every aspect of your daily routine, putting excessive thought into typically mindless tasks like walking around your house or laying on your bed to the point of obviousness.

“Light, wanna play video games?” Ryuk asked, standing before the boy.

Light fell back onto his bed, placing his hands behind his shoulders with a deep sigh. Closing his eyes, he prepared for the performance he’d have to put on. How could he ignore Ryuk without giving off reactions to the shinigami’s words, tilts of the head or instinctive hums of agreement that could incriminate himself in a matter of seconds.

“You listening? Hello?”

Light only ignored him, grabbing a long beige coat from the closet before heading outside, Ryuk following close behind.

“Hey, Light, what’s with the brushing off? I’m starting to get annoyed.”

He popped his collar and rolled up his sleeves, checking meticulously for any bits of wire or chips of plastic that could be audio bugging him.

“Light! Hey!” Ryuk wined.

“There might be secret hidden cameras around the house,” The brunette broke the silence, his voice in a slightly raspy lowered tone, almost a whisper, “Or microphones, probably both.” He explained, going on to detail his clever methods of finding out if someone had been in his room- or if someone had opened his door, at least.

“Let’s go on a camera hunt! You got a plan after that?” Ryuk asks.

“Simple, make it seem like I have no idea the cameras are even there, and that I’m just a normal teenager. I’ll probably need some excuse for why I have that paper and lead in my door, they’ll want to know why I don’t want anyone in my room, what I’m hiding, and if the footage reveals I’m hiding absolutely nothing, that’ll look even more suspicious. Every teenager has secrets.”

“So what’ll you do?”

“You’ll see.”

_______________________________

“This feels objectifying, Yagami.”

You walk down the street leading to your boyfriend’s house, accompanied by the man himself as he explains his, quite frankly, pervy plan.

“Objectifying? We have sex all the time, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but nobody plans out when they’re gonna fuck. It’s just weird.”

“Hey,” Light stops walking, facing towards you as he gently lifts your chin with his thumb and index finger. The feeling made you melt, and he knew that very well. The way Light held your face and looked at you like you were the only thing on earth felt exhilarating, he could tell you anything in that position and you’d believe it. And that’s just what he does, constantly. “This is not an option, this isn’t personal business. This is about Kira. This is going to throw suspicion off me, okay? Do it. For me.”

You sighed deeply. He had you the moment he held your chin like that. “And there won’t be any explicit footage of us? There won’t be a camera like, right there?”

“I don’t know where all the cameras are, but there aren’t many like that in my room at all, we’ll be safe.” He lied, a practice that came so easily to him he no longer viewed it as morally wrong. It was just something he did, like going to school and eating dinner or doing homework, he also lied.

“Okay.” You agreed with a smile, prompting him to release his grasp on you and continue the walk home.

“I didn’t realize he went through such great lengths...might there be something in his room that he doesn’t want anyone to see?” Soichiro Yagami remarked, watching Light fiddle with the thin strip of paper in the doorway and the piece of lead in the hinges as you stood patiently behind him.

“Well, considering he’s 17, it isn’t all that unusual. I’ve done it myself, for no reason at all.” L responds, “I am a bit curious, though, as to what he’s hiding so admently.”

You enter Light’s bedroom with him, shutting the door behind you as you watch him toss his bag down besides his bed.

“Y/N, are you scared of me?” He turns to face you.

“Hm? Why would I be.”

“L, the best detective in the world, thinks I’m Kira when I’m not.”

Oh, Light.

“He makes me out to be some kind of monster,” He continues, “I’m worried you’ll start to believe him.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Huh?”

Before you could register his comment, Light lunges for you, tossing you onto his bed before tickling your stomach and sides.

‘L-Light! St-stop! Please!” You cried between giggles.

“Make me.”

Understanding, you connect your lips to his, causing his hands to rub up and down where he previously tickled you. You moaned into the kiss as Light pushed harder into it, his desperation showing. You wished he would take his time, but you knew the real reason you were here. His hands slid down to your lower half, pushing his hand inside your pants and rubbing your clit through your panties. You gasped, hand reaching up to grab his wrist reflexively. He let out a chuckle.

Impatiently, he stood up straight, unbuttoning your pants before slipping them completely off along with your panties, leaving you in only your t-shirt on his bed.

“I figured,” L sighed, “You can close your eyes if you’d like, Yagami-san, but I’m afraid I need you here for legal purposes.”

Light crouched down onto the floor, lifting your legs to lay bent on his shoulders. Teasingly, he licked a line down your slit, earning a gasp from you. He straightened himself out again, moving towards your face. “L is watching,” He whispered, his hot breath on your ear, “Put on a show.” He smirked.

Watching? Had Light lied?

Light lowered himself back down to push his tongue inside you. His tongue wriggled around, exploring your walls with lust.

“Oh, Light” You moaned, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. You knew L, you knew the whole task force for that matter. Your face flushed with embarrassment imagining any of them reviewing this footage and hearing your moans. Hell, Light’s dad worked with L, he could be watching for all you knew.

You jolted at the sudden sting of Light smacking your thigh with an open palm. “Don’t hold back, angel, and don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear all your pretty moans.” He said, removing himself from your core before pressing his lips almost to your ear again, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I want L to see how good I make you feel. Got it?”

You faintly nodded before he returned to your heat, dipping his tongue inside once again while his thumb felt your clit, rubbing it in circles. You knot your fingers through his brown hair, bringing his face closer to your pussy with a moan. He sped up his actions, practically abusing your clit while his tongue hit your g-spot, curling sightly upwords inside of you.

“Fuck, Light, I can’t, I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulled away, leaving you edged and wanting more. You pouted, sticking your lip out with a whine. Light, having none of it, roughly raked his hand through your hair, forcing you up close to his face by your scalp. “You listen to me.” He growled, the heat of his breath warming your face, “No whining, and no disobeying. Got that?” He yanked your hair with the last syllable for emphasis. You let out a weak “Mhm.”

He shoved you to the bed chest-first by your hair, never letting his fingers leave your locks.

“Ass up.” He commanded, you obliged slowly, legs feeling a bit sore from him eating you out.

Hastily he unbuckled his belt before folding it in half, smacking your ass with it leaving a slight red mark. “When I tell you to do something, you do it quickly.”

“Yes Light.”

You yelped as he smacked you again with the belt in the same place, the stinging leaving your ass feel like it was burning.

“Yes who?” He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.” He pushed his khakis fully down before aligning himself with your entrance, rubbing his head up and down your slit teasingly.

“Sir please...” You begged.

“Please what? Say it.”

“Please, please fuck me sir. I want your cock, please.”

“Well, only since you asked so nicely.” Light slid himself into you with a groan. Slowly, he rocked himself into you.

“F-faster, please sir. Faster.” You moaned, gripping onto the sheets.

Light obliged right away, almost as if he was waiting for you to ask for it. He quicked his speed, pounding into you mercilessly. He licked his lips, relishing in the loud slew of moans and curses spilling from your mouth as he fucked you.

“Look at you, you fucking slut. Begging for me to go faster. You’re so goddamn desperate for my cock, you dirty whore.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, though degrading, the fact that Light liked you at all made you feel worth something. Light Yagami, Kira, the god of the new world, liked you. Though you’d never admit it to the stubborn boy, he could say almost anything to you, about you, and you’d still love him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight.” He knotted his fingers back into your hair for stability as he thrusted into you even faster, burying himself deep into you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Light- sir, it’s so good.” You cried, feeling your orgasm creeping up once again. “I’m gonna...”

“Do it, come for me angel.” He encouraged, bringing his free hand up to play with your clit. The stimulation sent you over the edge. “Oh fuck, oh my god, fuck you feel so good.” You came loudly, only a little before Light did as well.

L watched Light collapsed beside you on the bed, only the sound of your breathless pants escaping the monitor. “Uh, they’re done, Yagami-san. You can...open your eyes again. Honestly, this security footage may be useless now, at the very least we cannot bring it to court, considering your son and his girlfriend are both 17. Perhaps this was his plan along.”

“You’re saying this makes you more sure he’s Kira?!” Soichiro raised his voice.

“Well, it definitely raises my suspicions.”

Light finally stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans. Before you could pull your bottoms back up, he picked up your panties from the floor, playfully spinning them around his index finger. “You won’t be missing these, will you?” He asks sarcastically, tossing them into the drawer in his bedside table.

“Ah, so that’s what he’s hiding. A valid excuse to not want family in your room but... unexpected, to say the least.” L remarked, still somehow watching the cameras.

#i feel like im bad at writing smut bye #consider this a present for light’s bday #light yagami x reader smut #light yagami x reader #death note #death note x reader #death note smut #L lawliet #light yagami

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raebayhc · 3 years

Text

Girls Night Out

warnings: implied virgin, fingering, lesbian implied, bi implied, public sex, smut, fluff, angst

word count: 2164

summary: you along with your groups of friends decide to have a girls' night for the first time in a while, things get heated and your friends end up taking turns using your body.

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It was a Thursday night and you along with the other ladies who went to the same college as you decided to go out and have a girls’ night. Yall planned on going to see a movie, going out for drinks, then finally retiring to Sasha’s barn where yall planned to stay up late telling spooky stories trying to freak one another out. Normally you wouldn’t agree to something like this because socially you were a lost cause, you had many friends and were very close to them. However, when it came to hanging out in large groups and even going out in public with the group, that’s when you started to get anxious. Your friends always had your back though and you knew that. Ultimately you decide not to fret too much and just have fun.

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It was the beginning of a very long night, you and pieck were roommates so yall got ready at the same time and left together to meet everyone else at the theatre. On the ride there pieck looked over to you and broke the silence- “if it becomes too much just let me know, I’m good to go home anytime.. Okay darling?” she patted your thigh and you nodded waiting for her warm hand to leave its place. It never did. She kept her hand on your thigh occasionally tapping to the beat of the music she turned on after yall briefly spoke. You felt your cheeks begin to warm as you peered out the window. Nobody within the group of friends knew you swung that way you wouldn’t dare tell them fearing the absolute worst. You knew they would love you no matter what and you never thought they would say anything hurtful but you still kept your little secret to yourself.

Piecks hand remained on you the whole car ride to the theatre. When yall arrived you hopped out of the car with intent... That intent being getting away from under piecks touch as you know you wouldn’t be able to hide your heavy breath for much longer. You played it off as getting “all excited” about seeing the movie when you really just wanted to escape. You waited as pieck slowly gathered her items and met you outside the car, yall then proceeded to walk through the glass doors into the theatre where the rest of the girls were already waiting.

“Yo what took yall so long??” Sasha said while stuffing her face full of popcorn. “Yeah, we thought we were gonna miss the movie because of you two” Ymir followed, whilst rolling her eyes. You look around to check everyone out, Historia and Ymir were clinging together, as usual, Sasha and Mikasa playing “hot hands” in the corner. You laughed as Mikasa gagged after Sasha got butter all over her hands. Pieck walked off to go meet hitch at the counter to get some candy. You giggled to yourself and told the girls that the movie was going to start soon and yall should probably head to yalls seats.

Finally, in yalls seats waiting for the movie to begin, you were sat between Sasha and Mikasa. You were definitely closer to these two than you were anyone else. Yall had been a trio since fourth grade and nothing could ever split yall apart. Nothing. All of the ladies were quite touchy with each other, it was all platonic of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Sasha snatched your right hand and hugged your shoulder burying her nose in the crook on your neck as a monster popped out at the screen. “Why would you choose a horror movie when you can't handle them” you whispered to Sasha to which she replied “because I like the way it makes me feel y/n, I get all tingly and itchy” you rolled your eyes holding back a chuckle so you wouldn’t disturb the others during the quiet scene.

You felt a slight tug at your left hand as Mikasa habitually grabs your hand. She tends to do that when she has nothing to do with her hands, it “helps her stay focused” she has explained to you a million times. Between Sashas breath on your neck and Mikasa drawing circles on your hand with her index you couldn’t help but squirm. You go to whisper something about the movie to Mikasa when she goes to do the same, your faces come within an inch of each other, noses barely touching you feel her breath out her nose as it fans across your lips. Your face turns bright pink as you halt in surprise. “I wanted to point out that actor….. Since we’ve spoken about them before…” she spoke softly. You replied with a small “me too…”. Yall have yet to part until you are broken up by screams as the movie takes a turn and Sasha yanks your arm “AHHHHH Y/N HELP!!!!!” Sasha screams in a high-pitched tone. You turn breaking your eye contact with Mikasa “Sasha! Be quiet we arent the only ones here!” you jab at her as you apologetically smile at the others in the theatre. You momentarily forgot about the moment you and Mikasa had until she takes her hand and places it on the back of your neck. Thumb swiping up and down, she pulls you a bit closer to whisper “awfully close weren’t we…” she lets that sentence linger before playfully giggling and removing her hand from your nape.

The movie was finally over and you were one of the last to leave your seat, since you decided to pick up all the popcorn Sasha had dropped after one of the jumpscares, you stand up, lifting your arms towards the ceiling, stretching and letting out a soft moan. You felt hands slither from the small of your back to the front of your hips “wow y/n, you have a hot moan. Whoever sleeps with you must be lucky” Ymir says before shifting you to the side to make way for her and historia. “Ugh, Ymir how many times do I have to tell you it’s not ladylike to talk about such things so casually” “I know I know I’m sorry... But it had to be pointed out” Ymir shrugged “she does have a point y/n.. You have an attractive voice it makes sense your moans would be..” historia pitches in and she looks you up and down before continuing “h o t” she lingers on the t a bit before moving on. You could feel your arousal pooling. The ladies seem different tonight... Maybe it’s just you... Maybe it’s not... They walk out and you follow suit.

You decide to ride with hitch since yall haven’t spoken a lot tonight, you ask her about life and she goes on to rant about her boyfriend noting that he’s not good in bed and she hates his haircut, she finishes her rant off with “ugh maybe I should just switch to girls! You’d date me right y/n?” you pause for a moment then reply with a simple “who wouldn’t!” a simple sentence yet complex at the same time. She turns to you and examines your face “you know I think id be a top if I were with a girl… in fact, you’d make a perfect bottom for me..” her eyes linger a bit too long, your skin crawling whilst illuminated by the red light yall were stopped at. It flashes green and her eyes return to the road “of course if I was single and into girls hahaha” she plays it off.

Yall arrive at the bar shortly after Sasha and Mikasa who had taken the same car and followed by Ymir who carpooled with historia. Mikasa and Sahsa hand out everyone’s paper wristbands, Sasha stops in front of you takes your hand, and putting it on for you. She didn’t do it for anyone else… just you. You decided you were overthinking and you moved on, walking into the club you were bombarded with loud music busybodies and the smell of alcohol. You were stressed, so many people, so many noises, so many smells. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Pieck noticed your uneasiness and placed her hand on the small of your back, she led you to a dark hallway filled with heavy pheromones and kissing partners, past that was a bathroom to which she leads you, pushed you in, followed after you, and locked the door. “Wh-” pieck covered your mouth with a single finger, “I noticed your stress, we can leave if you need y/n” a look of sorrow on her face. “No I’m fine it was just a lot at once I’m sorry, I’m okay now” you push out with a soft smile. Her body moving closer to you she wraps an arm around you pulling you closer “baby… tell me if you need anything, mmkay?” she purrs into your neck giving it a soft peck. Your arousal beginning to pool again you squeeze your thighs.

She excuses herself letting you go and leaving the bathroom. Turning around to face the mirror you scold yourself for acting the way you are when your friends are just being nice, they’d probably feel so grossed out if they knew your cunt was getting all nice and soaked for them, you thought. “Maybe I just need to relieve some stress… yeah that's all it is… built-up stress…” you hiked up the mini skirt that you decided to wear today above your hips and you pulled your new pink lace panties to the side. Beginning to slide your fingers over your unclothed clit the door rattles “hey bear, pieck said you weren’t feeling well so I brought you a dri-” historias sentence is cut short when she looks up to see you sitting on the counter sprawled open like a book. “I’m so so-” you begin before she hurriedly shuts and locks the door behind her.

“I- i- can explain-” she cuts you off before you get a chance to explain “oh bear..” a slight purr in her voice “who knew you had such a perfect pussy?.. All this time you’ve been hiding it from me?” she pouts, you’ve never seen her act this way much less talk this way before. Shocked by her actions you freeze, she steps closer and peers up into your eyes, lifting a hand to show she has her pinky and index slightly bent, she speaks “..may I?” if this was any other night you would freak out, apologize, get dressed quickly and leave, but for some reason you cant. “Please do” a slight whininess in your voice. Taking her ring and middle finger she traces a line from your entrance to your clit making you twitch once she reaches the small bud. She chuckles a bit and continues, pushing her middle finger into you, slowly but surely, you lay your head back resting it on the mirror. A low groan leaves her throat as you tighten around her finger “y/n… can I ask you a question? Hmm?” “nghh yes” you manage to push out through cries and moans. “You’re a virgin aren’t you, bear? Nobody has ever touched this perfect little body. Nobody has ever stuck their fingers in you either, huh?” you nod trying to keep sane while her pace quickens, you squint your eyes shut forcing tears out and down the sides of your face. Your response influenced her as she moved faster prodding another finger at your entrance and pushing it in with her other. “Ahh fuck ‘ri’” RI was a name you’ve called her since yall first met, originally made because you couldn’t remember her full name but it kind of just stuck throughout the years. “I’m gonna- I think I’m g-” cut off by the feeling of her warm tongue prodding your clit, dangerously licking and lapping, boy did she know how to please, and that she did. “RI oh shit” you grab a fistful of her hair as your orgasm hits, continuing to finger fuck you and lightly lick your sensitive bud she helps you ride out your high. “..- first, right?” you couldn’t make out what she said through your hazy mindset “what RI?” she repeats “I was your first, right??” you nod with lazy eyes, she smiles a big smile then gives you a sloppy kiss, you groan into her lips.

She cleans you up then helps you off the counter. Now realizing what had just happened you panic pushing out a quick “oh my goodness ri I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to put you in that position” she chuckles “don’t worry bear there are plenty of other positions I plan to have you in” before you could really digest that she tugs at your wrist leading you out to the main hallway and back to your groups of friends. The night has only begun….

THE END Pt. 1

this is my first fanfic ever so I'm sorry if it's bad!! I will continue to improve trust me! also, this will be a multi-part series so stay updated!

#aot #girls love #fanfic #smut #pieck finger #historia reiss #mikasa ackerman #hitch aot #ymir aot #sasha braus #mikasa x reader #sasha x reader #hitch x reader #pieck x reader #ymir x reader #historia x reader

704 notes · View notes

yourmcu · 3 years

Text

Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace.

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Call Me When You're Sober

Summary: Remus tells Janus he loves him for the first time. Or at least...Janus thought he had.

TWs: alcohol usage in the beginning and talk about being drunk throughout, misunderstandings, hangovers

Notes: Human au, loosely based on a drawing from @underdog-arts their art is amazing go support their patreon.

Established romantic Demus/Dukeceit and background (very background) Prinxiety

“I’m not going to kiss you.”

Janus frowned, something that could probably be considered a pout with how out of it he was. He chased Remus’s mouth as the other man pulled away, one hand still carded through Janus’s hair.

His frown was definitely closer to a pout judging from the way Remus laughed out loud, eyes softening in a way anybody else rarely got to see, and Janus felt his cheeks flush even further. They’d been tinged with pink since his second drink (Remus hadn’t stopped pointing out the color in his face all night, adorably smitten by it) but at this point there was no way to blame his blush entirely on the alcohol.

“I’m not gonna kiss you, Jan,” Remus repeated, grinning insufferably when Janus slurred an illegible plea. “Not right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re drunk,” Remus said, moving his hands from Janus’s hair to keep him steady on the bar stool. “You won’t even remember any of this in the morning.”

“I will,” Janus protested, tongue slow and heavy in his mouth. “I always do.”

“Alright then, party animal.” Remus smirked, standing from the bar stool to drape one of Janus’s arms over his shoulder, helping him stagger to his feet. “Let’s get you home. Pat bought us an Uber.”

“But--”

“You can have a kiss when you’re sober,” Remus said, waving at a blurred shape Janus thought might be Patton. “Ok?”

Janus couldn't even make out his own reply, stumbling and leaning heavily against Remus’s side. He felt weightless, floating through the air, and it took him a moment to realize it was because Remus had picked him up and carried him out of the bar.

It felt like forever since he’d let himself get this drunk at a party before, and even longer since Remus had been the one sober enough to take care of things.

It was...nice. Really nice. Even if what rational thought he had left knew for a fact he would feel like shit tomorrow.

He was vaguely aware of Remus gently putting him in the backseat of a car and carefully following in after him, their hands loosely intertwined.

The driver said something before pulling away from the curb and driving off but Janus couldn’t make anything out, overcome by giddy exhaustion, and focused entirely on Remus.

He snorted when he caught Janus staring, and Janus knew he’d never get Remus to admit to blushing at the attention.

Janus leaned into the touch when Remus carefully framed his face, running his thumbs along his cheekbones, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Nobody else got to see Remus like this, thoughtful and loving and gentle. It was rare, but Janus always felt honored in some way. Even if he was so drunk he could barely comprehend it.

Remus suddenly leaned closer to press a gentle kiss to Janus’s forehead, slow and careful, one hand still cupping his jaw. He pulled back, just barely lit up by the passing streetlights, gaze soft as he looked Janus over.

“I love you,” he said for the first time, and Janus’s heart soared. “And I know you won’t remember this tomorrow.”

His face was beginning to ache with how much he was grinning, replaying the words over and over again in his head despite the fog weighing him down. Janus fell into Remus’s chest and shut his eyes to the sound of the car’s engine, trusting Remus to get them home safe.

---

Janus unfortunately did remember the night before, blurred and distant as it was, and that last conversation with Remus was the only thing keeping Janus from swearing off alcohol for the rest of his life.

His head was pounding, the light filtering in from the window felt like someone was poking knives in his skull, and every time he tried to sit up every single bone in his body violently protested, stomach lurching dangerously.

But he couldn’t even be annoyed at any of that right now.

Remus had said he loved him for the first time last night, holding his face like the most precious thing in the world, and that was the only thing on Janus’s mind.

He’d known Remus loved him. Or at least, he’d assumed. Remus tended to show love every way except verbal. It had taken some getting used to, insecurities Janus refused to voice always making him doubt that Remus actually felt the same, despite them dating for months and being friends for longer.

But Remus had said it last night. Remus had kissed Janus’s forehead and looked at him with soft fondness and told him he loved him.

He loved Janus.

And he had assumed Janus would be too drunk to remember, which meant he got to mercilessly tease Remus for the rest of the day about it.

Janus forced himself out of bed, noting with a small smile the water bottle that had been left on the bedside table. He could hear some commotion from the other room, probably Remus looking for food in the kitchen.

He sipped at the water, untangled himself from the sheets and slowly stumbled to his dresser to get a change of clothes. As uncomfortable as sleeping in jeans was, he appreciated Remus not changing him into pajamas while he was passed out.

When he felt human enough to leave his bedroom, wrapped up in sweats and a flannel, Janus slipped out of his bedroom and padded down the hall where Remus was sprawled out on Janus’s couch with a half eaten poptart on the coffee table.

“You could have slept in the bed, you know.”

Remus grinned up at him, disheveled and probably a bit sore. “Yeah well, you smelled gross.”

Janus knew Remus would never admit he just hadn’t been sure he was allowed, if Janus would be comfortable with someone sleeping next to him without clear permission.

Remus had a brass sense of humor, he was forward and grossly affectionate in public, but he was always so careful with Janus. There were so many unspoken questions, silent searches for approval, and private check-ins.

“You’re cute,” Janus said, grinning when Remus stuck his tongue out. “Do I get my kiss now?”

Something unreadable flashed in Remus’s eyes, and Janus assumed it was the realization Janus hadn’t been drunk enough to completely forget the night before.

It was gone in an instant, and Remus pushed himself up off the couch to shuffle across the small room, gather Janus in his arms, pull him close and kiss him just like he’d wanted the night before.

Remus pulled away with a wink that made Janus scowl playfully, and made his way to the connected kitchen. “I can’t figure out how to work your coffee maker.”

“If you break anything else in my kitchen I’m killing you.” Remus had managed to break his old toaster when they’d first started dating, and Janus never planned on letting him live it down. “I’ll make you some.”

Remus jumped up on the counter, watching Janus refill the pitcher in the sink and grab the coffee grinds from the counter, eventually distracted by scrolling through his phone while the pot brewed.

“Hey,” Janus called when it was done, smirking when Remus hummed nonchalantly. “Did you tell me you loved me last night?”

Remus jumped and nearly dropped his phone, fumbling for a second before managing to put it down on the counter, hands ridiculously unsteady.

Janus expected the momentary surprise, but he didn’t expect Remus to bark out a panicked laugh and shake his head.

“What? No.” He scoffed, swinging his legs over the side of the counter. “I didn’t say that. Jeez how much did you drink, Jan?”

Oh.

He’d been ready for a bit of embarrassed denial, some teasing and flirting that had become normal between them. Last night had made Janus stupidly happy- happier than he remembered being in months- but Remus had jumped straight to denying it, like it was the most ridiculous thing in the entire world.

He suddenly felt cold, and a little bit like someone had shoved him to the floor. He quickly averted his gaze so Remus wouldn’t see how much that had hurt.

“Right,” he said, sliding Remus his mug of coffee. “Yeah, duh. Sorry. I was...super out of it.”

“It’s cool.”

Janus didn’t know what he was supposed to say now. There was a lump growing in his throat, something a little more crushing than simple disappointment weighing down on his chest.

“I’m...gonna make some food,” he said after a few seconds of unnatural silence. “We still have those frozen waffles, you want any?”

“Sure.”

Remus was being abnormally curt and dismissive, and Janus could practically see him searching for an excuse to escape the tense atmosphere that had never existed between them before.

“I, uh, have a change of clothes in my bag,” Remus said, waving a hand at the hallway. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”

Janus nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he went to rummage through the freezer to hopefully distract himself with making breakfast once Remus disappeared.

This wasn’t a big deal. He could blame his suddenly blurry vision on the hangover.

He’d...really thought he remembered last night. He could still feel Remus’s hands in his hair and that stupidly sweet smile on his lips when he refused to kiss him when he was drunk.

He remembered the pink blush on his nose when he’d said those three words, quiet like they were in their own little world that night. The scene had been replaying over and over in his head until he fell asleep, and had picked right back up when Janus had woken up.

It had felt so real. He’d thought...he’d thought it was real. He thought he’d finally be able to say it freely without worrying about moving too fast for Remus.

It was possible it could have all been a dream, but...

But Remus had answered so quickly. He’d been so adamant about how he hadn’t told Janus he loved him. Like he would never even consider doing such a thing.

Which...which was fine. Janus wasn’t going to hold Remus’s feelings against him, and he certainly wasn’t going to make a big deal about it.

He’d just been mistaken assuming he and Remus wanted the same kind of relationship. Janus loved Remus and Remus...didn’t. Janus wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted, but he’d made his feelings on the matter pretty clear today.

Janus had just been too blind to realize it after months of spending nearly every waking moment together.

That was fine. It was a stupid misunderstanding. Janus wasn’t going to cry like a heartbroken idiot just because Remus didn’t love him back.

He hissed out a curse under his breath when almost immediately there were tears slipping down his cheeks, and Janus pressed a hand firmly to his mouth to muffle the sobs that tried to escape.

He was so stupid. It wasn’t like this was the first time this had happened, Janus figured he would have been able to see the signs by now. People just didn’t want him like that.

He’d just...really thought Remus was different.

He didn’t think he would ever laugh off the idea of loving Janus.

Janus wrapped his free arm around himself, swaying slightly in the middle of the kitchen as he stared blankly at the toaster, trying and failing to get himself to suck it up and stop crying.

He was being ridiculous- shaking with the force of trying to hold back his sobbing, blinded by endless tears gathering in his eyes and flowing down his cheeks- and he needed to get a hold of himself before-

“Woah, what the fuck?”

Janus jumped, refusing to look at Remus standing in the hallway as he quickly tried to wipe his tears away with the palms of his hands. “Do you want syrup?”

He heard Remus move closer and kept his head down, staring resolutely at the kitchen tiles until he could see socked feet step into the room.

He still didn’t touch Janus, still so focused on his comfort (was any of it even for Janus’s comfort? Maybe Remus just hadn’t wanted to touch him this whole time) but he moved as close as he dared and lowered his voice.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” Janus said automatically, choking on another hiccuping sob. “I just...have a headache. Stupid hangover.”

“Oh.” Remus hesitated, and Janus could feel him staring. “Did you take an ibuprofen? I can get you a couple from the bathroom. And like...gatorade. You still have some, right?”

Janus nodded and took a shaky breath, hating the way the tears still wouldn’t stop falling. “Yeah. In the fridge.”

“Good,” Remus said, and Janus still couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want you hurting.”

“I’m fine. Just drank too much.”

“You were pretty drunk.”

“I don’t remember last night at all,” Janus said, more bitter than was probably necessary. “Clearly.”

It was enough to give Remus pause, plunging the kitchen into heavy silence. Janus crossed his arms and risked a glance up when he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Anyways, gatorade—”

“I can get it.”

“No, I got it,” Remus said, and Janus watched warily as he pulled out a chair from the table. “Sit down.”

Janus hunched his shoulders, tears still sliding down his jaw just as fast as before, but he did as Remus said and shakily made his way over to the table, lowering himself carefully until he could curl up in his chair.

Remus returned almost immediately with a bottle of blue gatorade from the fridge and two painkillers from the bathroom medicine cabinet. He handed them over silently, standing awkwardly by the table while Janus took them.

Janus did his best, carefully swallowing the pills and sipping the gatorade with shaky hands. But he couldn’t get himself to stop crying, or even slow his tears, wracked with seemingly never ending sobs no matter how hard he tried to get a hold of himself. Remus standing there just made it so much worse.

He saw Remus crouch down to Janus’s level, breaths only coming out more frantic when Remus frowned and moved to hold Janus’s face in his hands.

“C’mon,” Remus said softly, brushing Janus’s cheeks with his thumbs. “What’re you crying for?”

Janus couldn’t answer. Remus sounded so gentle and adoring and it only made him cry harder, choking on a pathetic whimper as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, you’re ok.” Remus kept wiping Janus’s tears, his touch light and grounding. “It’s just me, Jan. You can tell me.”

Janus shook his head, weakly clutching at Remus’s sleeves. “N-no, I’m just...I’m being an idiot. Go get your waffles.”

Remus didn’t move, and Janus could practically feel him staring. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m being stupid,” Janus insisted, because he was. He knew he was. “I sw-swear I just...you don’t want to deal with this right now.”

“I’ll be fine, Jan. Tell me what happened.”

Remus kept brushing his tears away, warm and gentle, and Janus couldn’t catch his breath. Maybe there was a way he could fix this, get Remus to change his mind, or at least understand how he’d misread everything so horribly.

Janus finally managed to take a shaky breath, loosening his hold on Remus’s arms. “Did...did I do something wrong?”

“Wh- no?” Remus frowned, straightening a little to try and look Janus in the eyes. “You didn’t do anything.”

“You just,” Janus hesitated, wondering if it would be easier if he just gave up and dropped it. “You answered really fast when I asked about last night.”

Realization dawned on Remus’s face, and Janus’s heart dropped when he suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Oh.”

“I get it,” Janus said quickly, because now Remus was the one refusing to meet his gaze. “I do, it’s fine. I just...didn’t know if I had done something, or—”

He cut himself off when Remus suddenly pulled back, taking his comforting warmth with him, leaving Janus feeling frigid and empty.

He curled in on himself, wondering if at this point it would be a better idea just to kick Remus out of his apartment so they could start over and pretend none of this ever happened.

“It’s not...you- you didn’t...” Remus was stumbling over his own words, shuffling uncomfortably where he stood, and each attempt to explain only crushed Janus further. “It isn’t—”

“Yeah, no I get it,” Janus snapped, any venom overshadowed by the misery in his tone. He was hurt and tired and he just wanted to go back to bed. “It’s fine, Remus.”

“No, I’m—”

“I said I get it! It’s ok, I...I shouldn’t even have asked.”

“I lied.” Remus wasn’t looking at him, his back turned to Janus as he pulled and fiddled with his chain necklace. “Sorry.”

“Oh.” Janus...suddenly wasn’t sure what to say. “That you...loved me? Or that you didn’t say it.”

“That I didn’t say it,” Remus confessed, and Janus’s tears started to slow. “I, uh...I did. I said it.”

Janus didn’t move, terrified that he might somehow break the illusion and Remus would turn around laughing again, waving off any silly ideas of love or commitment.

“Did you mean it?” he asked carefully, hating how shaky his voice was. “If you were drunk we can just drop it.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Remus said. He sighed, running a hand over his face, still turned away. “Yeah, I...I meant it.”

“Oh.” Janus expected to feel relieved, but now Remus was shaking too, and he still wouldn’t turn around, and Janus just felt scared and numb. “Why did you—”

“Because I wasn’t ready,” Remus blurted. “I don’t...I don’t know if I’m ready, and I don’t know if you...I didn’t think you would remember. It’s...it’s a huge jump, Jan. And usually I’m all for being impulsive, you know that, but you just...this is different. You deserve better than that.”

Janus wiped once more at his eyes, but something had loosened a bit in his chest at Remus’s words, the other man still tense and refusing to look up from the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, rubbing his sleeve over his face until his eyes burned. “I shouldn’t have pushed, I just thought...something else.”

“What?” Remus finally turned to face him, but his confusion only lasted a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh, fuck I didn’t even...I didn’t think about your feelings. Shit, I’m- I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, Remus it’s fine—”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Remus pressed, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“I jumped to conclusions,” Janus said, trying to sound casual despite how his face was stained with tears and it felt like he’d just been punched in the chest. “It’s ok.”

Remus nodded, though he still seemed a little frantic. “We can just...ignore this. If you want to.”

Janus wasn’t sure how he felt about that solution, but he wasn’t going to push Remus out of his comfort zone any more than he already had today. “Is that what you want to do?”

“I don’t want to make you...uncomfortable,” Remus said slowly, and he smirked at the irony of his own words. “Not with this, anyway. Feelings are fucking gross and dumb and I know you don’t want any part of that, and I’m really sorry.”

“What?” Janus sat up a little straighter, wondering how he’d managed to find someone just as stupid as he was. “No, Remus—”

“I understand!” Remus kept going, barrelling over whatever Janus had been about to say. “Like, obviously I understand. I’m awful but I’m not gonna—”

“God, you’re such a dumbass.” Janus scrubbed a hand over his face, smiling into his palm. “I was upset because I thought you didn’t love me.”

Remus froze, staring with wide eyes like Janus had just said spoken in a foreign language. “Oh.”

“You answered so fast when I asked you,” Janus explained. “I thought I did something to fuck this up. Or that I’d just...misunderstood your intentions.”

“You didn’t,” Remus said. “I was- you know. Just scared.”

Janus nodded, forcing himself to take a deep breath and look Remus in the eyes. “I know. I...I know. I love you.”

Remus’s head snapped up. “You do?”

Janus actually laughed outright at the shock on Remus’s face, like a child that had just been told he was getting his first puppy. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah of course I do, Remus.”

“For real?” Remus asked, even as a huge grin began to take over his face. “Like no joke? You’re not fucking with me?”

“Well, I did think it was obvious,” Janus said, and he couldn’t help but match Remus’s smile. “I love you, you idiot.”

“Me? Shit, Jan, you need higher standards, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.” Janus took another sip of his gatorade to hide his obvious smile. “I literally just confessed to you.”

“You confessed to having horrible taste.”

“I love you,” Janus said again, because Remus was blushing and he was absolutely using this to his advantage. “Obviously. I’m sitting here crying at ten in the morning because I thought you didn’t.”

Remus had the decency to look embarrassed, another thing almost no one besides Janus got to see. “You could have been crying because you were hungover.”

“No. I was heartbroken, dumbass.”

Remus made a face like he’d tasted something sour. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Janus scoffed, capping and pushing away his drink. “You said you loved me first.”

“Gross, don’t bring it up,” Remus said, and Janus smirked as he pushed himself to his feet. “I sound like a sap.”

Janus laughed, moving to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s (Boyfriend? They’d have to talk about that one later) waist and rest his head in the crook of Remus’s neck. “You told me you loved me. While I was drunk.”

“You cannot tell anyone.”

Janus scoffed, having no intention of honoring that wish. “Why not?”

“Because,” Remus said. “It makes me sound gross and gay.”

“You’ve always been gross and gay.” Janus pulled back, just enough to grin at him. “Besides, you’ve been teasing Roman about Virgil for months.”

“He deserves it,” Remus declared. “He needs to get over himself.”

“At least he doesn’t confess to people while they’re drunk and then lie about it the next day.”

Remus’s blush deepened and Janus finally relented. He leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Remus’s lips- which quickly turned into something deeper when Remus moved to capture the rest of his mouth and pull him closer.

He only pulled away when he realized he'd started crying again, the relief that Remus loved him, that he hadn’t been wrong, that he wasn’t losing what they had, hitting all at once.

Janus shuddered and struggled to catch his breath, his breathing coming out in quick gasps again, and he clung onto Remus’s shirt like a lifeline.

“Oh, shit.” Remus’s eyes went wide in panic, and Janus found himself laughing around the tears. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

“You’re ok,” Janus assured him, leaning forward again to rest his head on Remus’s shoulder. Remus didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around him. “I just...really thought I was losing you.”

“You’re not. I’m still here.”

“I know,” Janus said. He was overwhelmed and exhausted and he’d never been awake this long with a hangover. “The ibuprofen didn’t help either.”

Remus had one hand carding through his hair, the other cupping his jaw as he pressed a kiss to Janus’s forehead. Just like he had last night when he’d told Janus he loved him.

When he’d told Janus he loved him and meant it.

“We should get you back to bed,” Remus said, every bit as adoring as he’d been when Janus was too drunk to stand. “How about I bring you your waffles and we can put on a movie?”

“You’re going to get crumbs in my bed again.”

“No I’m not.” Janus didn’t even get a chance to protest further before Remus had his arms around his waist, hoisting him into the air and over his shoulder. “And you’re too hungover to stop me.”

Janus couldn’t argue with that, relaxing into Remus’s hold as he carried him down the hall and back into the dimly lit bedroom, the darkness already soothing his pounding head.

Remus set him down on the bed, kissed him again for good measure, and returned a moment later with the waffles Janus had left in the toaster. He put the plate on the nightstand beside the half empty water bottle, and settled in beside Janus.

He didn’t even pay attention to Remus’s laptop opening, or the waffle that was offered to him. Janus just wrapped his arms around Remus and rested his head on his chest.

“You’ll stay with me?” Janus asked, already drifting off to the smell of waffles and the clicking of Remus’s keyboard.

“I never planned on leaving,” Remus said, muffled from where he’d pressed his nose into Janus’s hair. “And I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Janus muttered something even he couldn’t make out, letting his eyes slip shut, breaths steadying in sync to Remus’s own.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when he must have thought Janus was already asleep, that Remus began running his fingers through Janus’s hair again, leaning forward to press one last kiss to his temple.

“I love you too,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I love you, Janus.”

Janus smiled, content with letting Remus believe he’d fallen asleep before he could hear the words. Just this once.

People who asked to be tagged for this one:

@self-taught-mess @hannahdra-ws

#sanders sides #romantic demus #romantic dukeceit #ts janus #ts remus #alcohol tw #kissing tw #misunderstandings #miscommunication #fanficiton #writing #human au

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honeymoonjin · 3 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.8k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: threesome, nipple play, riding, unprotected sex, dom!taehyung, sub!?, restraints, blindfold, degradation, praise

A/N: it's my first time writing tgm smut in so long i hope it's okay ;;;-;

DAY TWENTY-SIX

Unable to fall deeply into sleep, when you wake fitfully at half past six in the morning, you decide to give up on it entirely.

A bath wakes you up slowly and gently, in no rush to clean yourself with a soapy loofah, the sweet smell of orange blossom lifting your mood just slightly. No matter how hard you scrub at your skin, Jin’s touch lingers beneath the surface like a tattoo, the reminder that you’d willingly chosen to cut him off from you that elimination day, and that your decision was keeping him from you.

The previous night, you’d spent hours with a hand cradling your cheek, trying to work out what the kiss even meant. A farewell, a consolation prize, a promise for patience? Either way, it just felt cruel to you. You rub harder, covering yourself in the foamed soap and watching it dissolve into the water.

By the time you dry yourself, well over an hour has passed, and the pangs of hunger start to flare off inside your stomach. You dress quickly, thoughtlessly, and sneak out of your door to the complete silence of the second storey. Nobody else seems to be awake yet, so you take your chance to go down and start on some breakfast.

The selection is relatively bleak to your lazy body, unwilling to make anything that requires the kind of effort the two eldest men tended to give for a meal. In the end, you tug some leftover curry from the back of the fridge, giving it a stir and setting it to heat up in the microwave.

The rhythmic whir and countdown combined with your lack of sleep is enough to have you feeling weak, slumping on the counter top. You rest your heavy head for a moment, pillowing it with your arm, and watch the dish turn around and around and…

“-matter, we’ll just wait and find out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust hyung. It’ll be fine. Can you pass me the- no, just beside it, the soy sauce- thank you. Should be ready soon.”

“Mhm, smells good.”

Adjusting to your sloped return to consciousness, it is the inviting smell that greets you after your hearing. A deep, meaty aroma is lifted with spices, making your mouth water.

The moment you shift, a sharp pain runs down your spine, settling at the back of your neck. You grunt, eyes squeezing shut at the ache.

“There she is. Must’ve been tired, poor thing.” The first one grows louder, sounding close to you as fingers reach out to tap your shoulder. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let’s get you something to eat.”

You groan again, lifting your heavy body up enough to prop your elbows on the table and press your hands against your eyes, willing coherence to sink back in. “Morning,” you croak, though by the way you feel, it could very well be evening.

The figure behind you - Yoongi, by his smooth rumbling voice - moves back around into the kitchen, and your ears perk up with the clink of bowls on the countertop. Blinking blearily, you yawn and focus in on the second person.

Jungkook is lifting a heavy saucepan and carefully pouring a stew into three bowls, the pink of his tongue trapped between his lips. “‘S that enough?” he questions, biceps flexing beneath his shirt as he hovers with the pan.

Yoongi nods once, fiddling in the drawer for spoons and chopsticks, and quickly hands you a set with your bowl, steaming lightly.

You smile gratefully, reaching out to feel the heat radiating off the ceramic. “Thanks, Yoongi.” The last of your sleep fades away, and you gasp suddenly, shooting up ramrod straight. “Wait - Yoongi, Jungkook! You’re back!”

“Keen eye,” Yoongi drawls sarcastically, but a fond smile plays on his lips nonetheless as he blows on a spoonful of broth. “Dad checked out of the hospital around 5. He’s doing really well.”

“Oh, Yoongi, I’m so glad,” you gush, relief filling your system.

Yoongi, however, seems to grow somber, eyebrows drawing together. “It wasn’t all good news, though.”

You freeze. “What? What happened?”

Like the news pains him, Yoongi grimaces. Jungkook, too, looks absolutely crestfallen. In unison, they open their mouths with matching frowns.

“The restaurant sold out of lamb skewers.”

“I didn’t see a single gho- Oh, yeah, the lamb skewers,” Jungkook tacks on, deflating. “But we stopped by a market on the way home to buy some lamb so we could make our own.”

“We?” Yoongi asks incredulously. “I didn’t see any ‘we’ when you refused to chop vegetables just now.”

Jungkook makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. “I just suffered a paranormal experience, hyung, I was too shaky to handle a knife.”

“You just said you didn’t see any ghosts.”

The youngest huffs. “I felt them.”

Your head darts back and forth, lamb stew forgotten as you watch the playful rally between the two men. Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat, raising a single brow. “What; was there a poltergeist petting zoo on the fourth floor I wasn’t told about?”

“Their presence, hyung. I felt their presence. Taehyung even said he could feel a chilling aura coming through the phone and into his body, but he thinks it could’ve just been Jimin’s feet.”

Yoongi presses a few fingers to his temples like he’s getting a headache. “You mean to tell me I had to get my sickly father to pretend you were his son all for you to stay the night, and the only thing that happened was Taehyung getting possessed by the ghost of Jimin’s feet?”

Jungkook blinks once. “There was a vending machine that gave out free lollipops,” he offers.

“A vending…” Yoongi sighs, eyes slipping closed. “Jungkook, I think that’s for patients who get low blood sugar. For emergencies.”

“Oh.” Jungkook considers this for a moment. “I took five of them.”

“Of course you did. Alright, eat up, please. It’s getting cold.”

You quickly thank Yoongi for the meal with a bemused smile, chest feeling light at having the two back in your company, and Yoongi in a visibly better mood than the past two times you’d seen him. The three of you fall into an easy silence for a few moments, but it doesn’t last long as the others in the house begin to wake.

Namjoon is first down, getting over his initial surprise quickly and rapid-firing countless questions to Yoongi about his father, ensuring he truly was alright. Taehyung and Jimin are next, the former just about barrelling into Jungkook and Yoongi, tugging them into a bear hug as Jimin watches fondly from behind. When a bleary-eyed Hoseok comes down, he notices the breakfast before the company, letting out a relieved groan at a mouthful of broth and promptly choking on it as he processes the presence of Jungkook and Yoongi.

Finally, it’s Jin that takes the longest to wake, and when he turns the corner and spots them, his only response is a wordless sigh, and a silent hug. Despite that, his emotions radiate off him in waves, and you don’t doubt there are unsaid words shared between him and Yoongi. To your surprise, he breaks away after a moment and pulls Jungkook into a tight albeit brief embrace as well, patting him on the back with a quiet murmur you don’t catch.

It feels right, comfortable and calming to have all eight of you back in the Villa together. The short absence feels so much more extended when you’re used to the same company twenty-four hours a day, and having them all back in your immediate vicinity again feels like a hit of some intense high. The relief rushes through your system, and you catch yourself unconsciously counting heads over and over.

“So I guess we just sit here?” Hoseok asks at one point, interrupting the blanket of quiet that had descended over you as you ate. “Do you think we should text Sejin and tell him to come debrief us or what? It feels like we’re in limbo.”

“No need.” A new voice resonates from behind you, Sejin himself walking through the doorway.

Taehyung narrows his eyes to the point of almost closing them, glaring first at the producer and then at the dormant cameras in the top corners of the room.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t rolling just yet. I’ve just been waiting a while for you all to get sorted. I figured you deserved to at least eat first, Yoongi, Jungkook.”

“Well, we’ve eaten,” Yoongi confirms, oddly stiff, an unreadable expression darkening his features. “I guess that means it’s showtime again.”

Jungkook looks up at him from his hunched posture leaning on the countertop. “I bet a lot of them missed you, hyung. The viewers. They seemed really worried on Twitter.”

Yoongi blinks, shifting. “Missed-? I- I suppose it was sudden. We should probably get this thing up and running again so they aren’t concerned.”

As Sejin nods in confirmation and pulls out his phone to relay the message, you nearly miss the quirk at Jungkook’s lips at changing Yoongi’s attitude so easily. The two of them seem at ease with each other like nothing you’ve seen before. No doubt due to the time they’d spent together last night, and it warms your heart to see them standing so closely.

“Come on, then,” Sejin announces, belatedly lifting his gaze and putting his phone back away, the cameras installed around the room blinking back to life with their steady red blip. “Let’s move to the couches again.”

“Just like the good old days,” Jungkook sighs dreamily.

Jin raises a brow, taking a seat in the center of the middle couch, the two youngest jumping in on either side of him like toddlers ready for a bedtime story. You do your best to ignore him, still feeling sensitive from the night before. “You mean ‘just like four days ago?’”

From his left side, Taehyung huffs lightly, though makes no effort to distance himself at all from the eldest. “Time is a social construct.”

“Can we make a start?” Sejin questions, perched on the corner of the coffee table with his hands on this thighs. “I doubt the viewers are here to listen to you bicker.”

“Right you are,” Taehyung notes, nodding sagely, “they’re here for the good stuff.” He shares a glance with Jungkook, and in unison the two of them place their hands side-by-side directly on top of Jin’s crotch, glancing up at the cameras expectantly.

Jin clicks his tongue like his dick being used as a prop is little more than a mild inconvenience, making no move to push their hands away.

They do, however, when Sejin flattens a stare at the two of them. The youngest properly chastened, the producer finally looks around at all of you as a group. “For the sake of continuity and coherence, we’re picking up where we last left off: Limited Edition week. Yoongi, you’re the only one to already have completed your prompt-” the man puffs his chest at this, sharp eyes darting to you as Sejin speaks, “-so you’re done for the week. Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin, I’m afraid you’re left with very little time to complete yours. Because of this, you’re no longer required to wait for a text message to start your scenes, and I’m also postponing the Fan Favourite vote until Monday morning to give you some additional time. We’ll unfortunately have to merge it with the elimination meeting. Today is already Friday, so do the best you can.”

“We won’t let you down,” Jungkook promises fiercely, conspicuously glancing down at Jin’s lap as if he’s about to use it for emphasis again.

Sejin sighs, shifting back, continuing on as if he didn’t hear the strangely passionate pact. “If anyone has forgotten their prompt, don’t hesitate to ask, otherwise the show is back on as per usual. Producer Kang is coming in at midday to set up the confessional booth again, so from this afternoon onwards, feel free to use it again to share your thoughts. I’m sure the viewers will have their fair share of questions for you as well. Understood?”

Most of you nod, content with the update. You try and fight the sickly flutter of anxiety in your chest that creeps up at the reminder of elimination, focusing instead on the side of you that’s relieved to have this level of normalcy back, and secretly pleased to have your cards filled up for the next few days. It feels like it’s been longer than it has, and you shift in your seat wondering who will approach you first out of the four men yet to fill their prompt.

Perhaps it won’t be Jungkook; he pushes himself off Jin and tiptoes to Sejin’s retreating figure, asking for a reminder on his prompt with shy pink cheeks. The producer lets out a weak laugh of bemusement and guides him out of the front door to escort him to the producing van outside.

The others seem to know what they’re doing, and you spy Namjoon and Hoseok with heads ducked together, Hoseok grinning at something Namjoon’s saying. The two have been growing closer lately, almost out of nowhere, and you’re curious if they’ll stick as two peas in a pod when it comes to the game, too.

The four of you that remain chill for a bit, making lazy conversation on how strange it feels being back on the clock again. It’s nice, being able to enjoy the time relatively care-free. Despite the overall weirdness of the competition in context to real life, it’s become a comfortable familiarity, and you welcome it back.

You could happily spend the whole morning there, were it not for the sharp bolt of pain that rushes up your spine when you turn to listen to something Jimin has to say.

Gasping, hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck instinctively, you squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation. From beside you, it takes no time for Jimin’s hands to find you, gently settling on your back and arm as he asks you if you’re okay.

“I fell asleep on the counter this morning,” you admit, trying not to move your head at all as you speak, “I think it messed up my neck.”

As your eyes untense and open again, you see Jimin’s rounded in concern, first at you and then glancing over at Tae in sober worry. His teeth are running over his lower lip over and over, a habit that he does in moments of stress and helplessness, and through the ache you can’t help but feel warm at his reaction.

“When does it hurt most?” you hear Taehyung ask, and it’s habit that makes you turn your head to face him.

“Fuck,” you curse thickly, shoulders hunching up against the tight feeling, “just when I turn it. Feels like a tug that shouldn’t be there.”

Yoongi and Jin are silent, and from your new angle of vision, you can see their apt focus on you, Yoongi going so far as to be shuffled half off his couch, ready to jump up and give medical aid.

“It’s probably a crick in your neck,” Taehyung asks, and you spot his mop of browl curls fill your vision as he crouches in front of you and looks back over his shoulder. “Right, hyung?”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “Sounds like it. I can get a heat pack?”

“I have some upstairs,” Taehyung answers, “I think a massage would help a lot. Y/n, do you think you can make it upstairs?”

You take a moment to consider this, and gently shift your head around with small motions. Up and down seems to be fine, and left and right hurt the more you turn. “I think it’ll be okay,” you decide, “I didn’t really notice it that much until just now.”

“Okay.” Taehyung presses his lips together and stands up again, holding out his hand to you. Slowly, with several check-ins, he guides you upstairs and into his bedroom, assisting you in sitting down on the bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows. You leave Jin and Yoongi downstairs, but Jimin insists on following, his hand warm against the small of your back the whole way up.

Feeling a little embarrassed at the fuss they’re making, you nonetheless soak up the chance to be at the center of their attention, Jimin linking your fingers together from the side of the bed as Taehyung rushes around, grabbing a single-use heat pack and some massage oils.

“You’ll need to turn around so your back is facing me,” Taehyung instructs, getting on the bed behind you. It’s a little awkward shifting around with three of you on the bed, and you unable to really move as freely as you’d like, but after a moment Jimin has replaced your original spot against the headboard, your knees bumping his as you sit cross-legged with Taehyung behind you. “Okay, that’s good. Just relax.”

Your shirt has a relatively low, round neck, and even though it’s not quite loose enough to push past your shoulders, Tae doesn’t want to make you take it off and risk hurting yourself further, so he just makes do, warming some oil between his fingers.

The soothing smell of lavender fills the air, and your shoulders go lax as Taehyung slips gently presses down on them with his still-dry knuckles, thumbs sliding up to hold your neck steady. As he pushes the hem down as much as he can and begins to slide his fingertips over your skin to spread the aromatic oil, you fight the urge to let your head loll back. It’s been a long time since Taehyung gave you a massage, and though you have no doubt he’d do it anytime in a heartbeat if you asked, you always felt strange approaching it. A crick in the neck was not ideal, but certainly a nice excuse to have his hands on you again.

In front of you, Jimin watches you carefully for any sight of pain. While a month ago you may have been intimidated or even put off by his intense stare, you know he’s there to make sure you’re alright, and you’ve seen him vulnerable enough to feel okay sharing this with him.

It is still a little awkward, however, and as Taehyung lets his fingers dip as low as they can between your shoulder blades, you send Jimin a crooked smile. “Do you want some popcorn?”

He scoffs warmly with a shake of his head. “If I’m bothering you…?”

You almost shake your head, sucking in a sharp breath through your nose as you fight the automatic urge. “No, you’re fine. I just don’t think me getting my neck fixed is very-” Your voice is abruptly cut off by a staccato groan punched out of you by Taehyung pressing his thumbs right into the knots on either side of the base of your neck. He crawls them up carefully but confidently, beginning to smooth out the tension, and you can’t help your eyes fluttering shut. “Very entertaining,” you finish, breathier than when you started.

“That’s where I’d have to disagree,” Jimin responds in a buttery whisper. With eyes closed, you don’t see him move, and are caught off guard by the tickle of sensation that arises on the sensitive skin of your inner ankle as he slowly sweeps a single fingertip in lazy circles around the bump of the bone. The touch isn’t particularly sexy in its location, but nevertheless feels dizzingly intimate with the knowledge of whose finger it is roaming the fine details of your body.

“I see how it is,” you manage to respond, but the fight is drained from you from both ends; Jimin at your ankles, Taehyung at the nape of your neck. Taehyung’s touch is distinctly heavier and more decisive than Jimin’s, and it becomes harder to resist lying back against him as he works at the sore muscles of your neck.

“My clients aren’t normally so chatty with someone that isn’t me,” Taehyung remarks from behind you, lightly flicking the side of your neck in playful complaint.

“Client?” you question with a pout he can’t see but can definitely hear. “Are we not even lovers, Tae?”

He hums, so low in his chest that it’s a soft growl, and his hands converge on your sternum, face coming forward to press at the side of your cheek as he hugs you from behind. Your heart rate picks up at the proximity; his lips so close to yours, but impossible to reach from the angle. “You know I can’t touch you like a lover should. Not now.”

“Would it be so bad?” you wonder aloud, even as you recall the rule that would get him kicked out should he touch you intimately. The rule wasn’t so harsh were it you to touch him, however. “I could.”

His breath comes out in a rush that tingles your jaw. “Don’t tempt me,” he warns, sitting back upright and pressing the sides of your neck to straighten you up again, “you’re injured.”

“I’m injured?” you retort, “I thought you were meant to be fixing me. You mustn’t be doing a very good job.”

This time, the sound that leaves him most certainly is a growl. His fingers dig into the dips in your upper spine with a ferocity that while measured is distinctly more authoritative. You feel manhandled into wellness, the pain malleable and easily manipulated by his touch. Your body is heavy, barely able to hold itself up, but inside you feel lighter than air, so thrilled to be at the receiving end of Taehyung’s dominance after such a long time under Jimin’s strong hand.

As if following your thoughts, Taehyung mutters out a low, “hyung?” Jimin hums in response, his fingers circling your ankle and letting the lax weight of his arm pin you to the mattress. “I want to touch her so bad.”

You let out an unfiltered moan as you hear Taehyung talk about you to the man on your other side as if you’re not even there, though his fingers never stop for a second, leaching away every last ounce of pain.

“You can’t,” Jimin replies simply.

“But you can,” Taehyung fires back. “Do you trust me?”

Your eyes open wide as you hear the hidden meaning behind his words. Jimin seems to recognise it, too, as he looks past you with lips parted in surprise. It takes him a moment, but he eventually does respond. “I trust you.”

“Get the blindfold.”

It’s clear Jimin is hesitant about letting Taehyung take control. Not the kind of resistance you’d expect he’d give someone else trying to dom him, but simply the delay of uncertainty, of inexperience. He gets up on his knees after a moment to reach into the bedside stand’s drawer, pulling out a soft black sleeping mask.

Taehyung’s hands finally slow, fingertips slipping just under the hem, fiddling with your bra straps. “Put it on, hyung.”

“Tae,” Jimin breathes, eyebrows furrowed in worry, but he goes along, slipping it over his head and adjusting it, lips pursed. You see the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a harsh swallow, his toes curling and staying tucked.

“How’s your neck?” Taehyung asks you, and in your daze at seeing Jimin gingerly submit, it takes you a second to even realise he’s addressing you. You quickly assure him it’s fine, and feel your heart race as he takes his hands off you and backs away, pulling you backwards as he does. “Lie down for us,” he commands softly.

Your breathing is elevated, and you can’t seem to calm it as you watch Taehyung in your peripheral pull up a chair to the side of the bed. His knuckles are white as he clutches the arms, but his face is darkly focused.

“You can’t fuck her with all those clothes on, hyung,” Taehyung states simply, and you can see the way Jimin’s brows lift above the blindfold.

Obediently, Jimin moves towards you, but with his vision obscured he pats around to find you, fingers running blindly up your side to seek out the lower hem of your shirt and lift it over your head. There’s something strangely exciting about Jimin being the one to disrobe you, when only Taehyung will see your naked body, and the clumsy way the older man fiddles with the zip on your jeans before slipping them off makes it feel like he’s touching you for the first time.

It takes him no time at all to unhook your bra once he finds the hinge, and soon enough your panties, the only scrap of fabric left on your body, are being tugged down your legs impatiently. Once they’re gone, however, Jimin’s hands hover uncertainly over you, awaiting further instruction.

Taehyung grins, though Jimin won’t see it, and wets his lips. “So you can be a good boy, hm? Who would’ve thought the big bad wolf was just a little puppy?”

Jimin swallows, nostrils flaring as he struggles with his own submission. He offers no answer, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, sitting forward in the chair.

“Are you hard, Jimin?” The blue-haired man grits his teeth at the intentional lack of honorifics, but confirms reluctantly that he is. “Show us.”

After opening and closing his mouth, Jimin swallows hard again and his fingers pat against his waistband until he reaches the button, undoing it and dipping a hand in to release his cock. True to his word, he’s hard, the tip glossed with precum and angry red.

A wave of arousal rushes through you so strong that you clench around nothing, wanting nothing more than to push him back and take what you need yourself. But it’s fascinating seeing him like this, and you don’t want to even speak, too scared to break the spell Taehyung has somehow constructed.

The younger man just lets out a flat noise as if unimpressed. Jimin’s dick twitches as his cheeks heat in shame. “Tae,” he breathes, fingers digging into the tensed flesh of his still-clothed thighs.

“It would benefit you to give my name more respect than that. I’m not your boyfriend now, not your pet. I’m your boss. I say what you can and cannot do. So what do you say to me?”

Jimin’s lips are parted, a pretty pink that trembles if you look closely enough. He stays silent for a moment, thinking it through. “Mister Kim,” he says, going so far as to duck his head shallowly in an imitation of a bow.

A dark smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips. “I like that,” he decides, “good boy. Why don’t you touch our girl, then? She’s arching so nicely for you, Jimin, I think she wants to feel you on her pretty little tits.”

Your eyes couldn’t be wider if you tried, fingers twisted harshly in the bedsheets on either side of you. It’s true, your back hitching off the mattress in need. Truth be told, you’re shivering in the desire to feel him anywhere, but the thought of him flicking at your sensitive nipples has you letting out a shaky whimper.

It’s not Jimin’s hands that greet you, however. Instead, he uses them to catch his fall when he hangs forward, face burying in the soft skin close to your right hip. You can feel the hard tip of his nose, the tickle of his eyelashes, and the plush warmth of his lips.

You tremble beneath him at the way his breath heats your naked skin in pants. Jimin navigates higher with his nose, running it over you, lips dragging against you just enough for you to catch scrapes of his bottom teeth occasionally as he works from left to right, seeking out the swell of your breasts.

It’s not long before he crawls high enough, but it feels like an eternity of absence has been broken when it’s not his fingers but his hot, wet mouth that closes over your nipple, sucking it in like a man starved.

You gasp at the sudden bloom of sensation, a moan getting clogged in your throat. Once Jimin reaches you, you can feel the confidence of his usual dom persona return in the intense way he laps and nipples at the stiffening peak, but the hastened breaths that have his chest heaving above you are entirely due to Taehyung’s invisible grasp on the both of you.

It’s not until Jimin fastens his teeth around your nipple and tugs once, harsh enough to make you keen and grab at his shoulders, that he moves to the other side, repeating the previous treatment with twice the hunger and desperation as before.

“Mm, atta boy,” Taehyung praises in a borderline sarcastic drawl. Jimin huffs through his noise noisily against you as he places sloppy kisses on the pebbled skin around your nipple, and your eyes roll back at the overwhelming situation you’ve found yourself in. There’s something unbelievably obscene about being at the whim of Jimin touch but Taehyung’s command, of hearing and seeing and feeling Jimin be just as affected by Tae as you are.

Jimin’s still mostly dressed, but you can feel the heat radiating from his unsheathed cock as it presses against your leg, and you will Taehyung to demand Jimin fuck you, feeling out of your mind with need.

“You want to taste her somewhere else, don’t you?” Taehyung asks after a few moments of ecstasy. Jimin groans lowly against you, and you feel his hair tickle your breast as he nods. Taehyung’s voice hardens. “That’s a shame. On your back, Jimin. Clothes off.”

You and Jimin whine in unison as you’re parted again, but the latter wastes no time in undressing, throwing his shirt, pants and underwear away blindly, almost hitting Taehyung with them.

Taehyung lets out a cheeky smile as he ducks out of the way, before steeling his expression again and standing up to join you at the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as Jimin lies down beside you, head propped up on the pillows.

Making him wait in silence and darkness for a moment long enough to make Jimin hold back another whine with a bit lip, Taehyung suddenly reaches out and rakes his nails up Jimin’s chest from his lower stomach to his collarbones, flicking his nipples on the way.

Jimin hisses and almost comes clean off the mattress, arms flying down, but Taehyung catches him at the wrists and tugs his arms up with a roughness that takes Jimin by surprise, leaving him pinned open with reddening lines across his torso.

“Fuck,” he curses, head thrashing back and forth once in frustration. He looks overwhelmed already, though you’re beginning to suspect this is his first time subbing, at least in many years. “T- Mister Kim, Mister Kim, please.”

“Y/n’s going to take what she wants now, Jimin,” Taehyung instructs gruffly, sending you an expectant gaze for you to get up, “and you’re going to give it all to her. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Jimin repeats brokenly, fingers curling in the open air as Taehyung holds his wrists up.

Heart racing violently in your chest, you find yourself straddling Jimin with barely-restrained excitement. His cock is lying against his lower abdomen, leaking steadily, and the moment you reach out and take it in your hand he lets out a low, keening sob, thighs lifting as if to curl in on himself.

“Colour, Jimin,” Taehyung demands, loosening his hold on the man’s wrists briefly.

Jimin lets out a frustrated whine, foot stomping against the mattress. He’s panting like he’s run a marathon, even with your hand still on him, and it almost seems like he’s about to end the scene with the pained look on his face. “Dammit, green. Fuck.”

Taehyung pauses for a moment, but suddenly a booming laugh is leaving him as he stares down at the figure on the bed below him, with restrained arms hanging uselessly in the air. “Oh, you dirty fucking boy,” he gushes, bending down to nip at the already-swollen flesh of Jimin’s lips, making the older boy whimper, “you love this, don’t you?”

Shaking his head, Jimin can’t hide the way blood rushes to his cheeks, tinging his face and neck pink as his cock pulses in your grip. It encourages you to move again, and you lean down to spit on it, hearing him hiccup wetly at the feeling of it before you’re jerking him off steadily to spread the slick around.

As much as he tries, Jimin can only hold back the sounds of pleasure for so long, and by the time you’re straddling him, lining him up at your entrance, his chest is heaving and every breath out is tinged in a moan. He all but trembles in anticipation as his tip bumps against you, and you suck in a single slow breath to prepare yourself before you’re sitting on his cock, feeling it part your walls deep inside.

Jimin shudders, and his arms, still in Taehyung’s grip, tug towards his own face to cover it, fingers curling into claws at the flood of sensation.

“Is it good?” Taehyung asks rhetorically, allowing Jimin to pull his hands over his face before cruelly spreading them wide again, leaning down until their noses touch, voice dipping to a gruff whisper, thick with arousal. “You don’t get to hide from us.”

You’re propping yourself up with one hand on Jimin’s heated chest and another on the mattress, letting yourself adjust to the intrusion, and you see the way his lips tremble every time you clench around him.

Though it hasn’t really been that long, you feel the stretch more than usual, especially without the foreplay involving any fingering. But, if you’re honest with yourself, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

There’s something so divine about rocking your hips against him and having his cock open you up through your own movements. You control the pace despite the whines and weak growls of complaint, and you take your time with it. While Jimin might prefer more friction, more motion, you’re enjoying the deep grind, his pelvis pressed to your clit every time you lean forward.

You look up from him, at Taehyung holding him down for you. His hair is messy, but no more than before, and he’s still fully dressed. His eyes are dark with lust and glimmering with excitement, and once he feels your gaze he looks up at you sharply. Your heart jumps, and you squeeze unintentionally around Jimin, making him groan.

Still looking at Taehyung, however, at his sculpted lips, strong gaze and hooded lids, you’re overwhelmed with the urge to lean forward and kiss him. It’s like a string is tied between the two of you, being cranked tighter and tighter. It would be so easy just to give in and-

“Don’t be mean, Y/n. Jimin is being good for us.” Taehyung grins at you, teeth glinting. “Make him come.”

Jimin’s chest hitches, and his hips rock shallowly up at you, unable to get the momentum to do much more. Still, it causes him to drag against your walls, and the pleasure shoots up your core at the feeling. Inspired by both your own pleasure and the need to please the two men with you, you steel your thighs and begin to ride Jimin in earnest.

It’s harder than you expect to keep a rhythm up. Every time you get a good downstroke that reaches your g-spot, it makes your legs tremble, and before long your thighs begin to ache. Nonetheless, you’re determined as you watch Jimin’s blindfolded face contort in pleasure, and you shift your position and bounce harder.

In the back of your mind, you hear Taehyung praise you, but you barely spare him a glance, chest lowering so that you can put all your energy into the tight motion of your hips. Your fingers dig into Jimin’s shoulder, and his muscles tense beneath them as he tries to reach out for you.

Every time he’s reminded of the grip Taehyung has on his arms, Jimin thrashes just a little beneath you, but his cock just keeps on getting stiffer inside you, and as you suck in harsh lungfuls of air, you know he’s getting close.

The sounds that leave his parted lips are nothing short of pornographic, losing all sense of shame or hesitation as he approaches that peak.

You fight off your own orgasm, tightening around Jimin as you try and hold back and distract yourself with him. You’re losing stamina quickly, the rhythm falling apart into unsteady jerks and bounces.

Taehyung watches you carefully, before bending down again and biting right into the plush flesh of Jimin’s cheek, addressing him only after he soothes the blooming red with his tongue. “Why don’t you return the favour and fuck her a little, my good boy?”

Jimin sobs, and his abs tighten as he attempts to get up, but Taehyung just tuts, instructing him to do it right where he is. Clearly too far gone to protest, you feel Jimin prop his feet up against the mattress with a shaky sniff. That’s your only warning before he makes full use of his core strength to piston his hips up into you with toe-curling speed, purely seeking out his own end.

You cry out, knees buckling at the first thrust, and your chin hits his shoulder awkwardly, almost biting your own tongue. Clutching at his arms, you attempt to hold yourself up enough not to bear your dead weight on him, and go along for the ride.

Even from his unwieldy position, Jimin manages far better than you did, and his his moans quickly raise in pitch and shorten in length, until he’s whimpering in desperate yips, thrusting up into you with such ferocity that your teeth chatter.

He’s deep inside you, deeper than he’s been before, and your eyes begin to well at your own impending orgasm.

Closer than you, however, Jimin freezes for a split second before he’s shuddering violently and spurting inside you. Taehyung holds onto him for a moment longer before he releases his wrists, and suddenly you’re being caged in by Jimin, his arms holding you flush against his heated torso as he grinds his cum into you, still blindfolded and barely able to catch a breath.

It’s this rocking motion that tips you over the edge, your clit gaining enough friction to break the dam, and you sob hard as the pleasure wracks through you. There isn’t a single inch of space between you and Jimin, and just as you think you’re in pure ecstasy, you feel Taehyung’s hand tangle in your hair, stroking it as his lips brush the shell of your ear with praises intended for the two of you.

Your face is wet and your body is trembling uncontrollably as you let your climax run through you, and when it fades you feel hollowed out, boneless.

Jimin is clearly the same, because he quite contentedly lets you lie atop him, panting just as hard as you are. His eyes remain closed long after Taehyung slips the blindfold off, pressing kisses to Jimin’s eyelids and the flush on his cheeks.

After a sweet eternity, you gather enough energy to roll off Jimin and sit up, separating yourself from him. He sighs out weakly, and you’re shocked to see just how drained he seems. For a moment, your heart stutters, but as you reach out and grab his hand, matching Taehyung who has his other one sandwiched between his, a drunken smile stretches across Jimin’s face.

“What the fuck?” he asks breathily, chuckling slightly despite his exhaustion. A single eye cracks open, looks up at the two of you with a warm gaze, before slipping shut again. “Oh my god, I can’t believe… I can’t believe that.”

“Can’t believe you liked it?” Taehyung questions, and even after the scene you hear a tinge of nervousness in his tone.

“God, Tae, I think I get it now,” Jimin gushes, voice lowering into a sleepy slur, “it’s- that was fun.”

Taehyung beams, squeezing Jimin’s hand fondly.

Jimin sighs in bliss. “And next time I’m going to edge you so much you cry, Mister Kim.”

The smile drops off Taehyung’s face in an instant. “Hey! That’s not fair. I let you come.”

Whatever protest Jimin would normally fire back is dissolved in his post-orgasm bliss. Instead, he just hums sweetly, entirely unbothered by the sticky mess his lower torso has become.

“Come on,” you jibe softly, feeling your own skin growing tacky, “let’s get you in the shower.”

Jimin groans at the thought of standing up, but Taehyung is having none of it, digging his hands under Jimin’s back to lever him up like a crowbar. “Yeah, we’re not gonna stop taking care of you just because you busted a nut, asshole. Get up and let me clean your dick like the good dom I am.”

Though Jimin huffs all the way to the shower, as the two of you clean him up, dry him off and dress him in a pair of Taehyung’s sweats and a baggy shirt, his eyes never stop gleaming for a second, not-so-secretly enjoying every minute of it.

The three of you spend an hour or so post-shower chilling in Taehyung’s room before hunger overcomes you one at a time. You’ve certainly missed lunch, but there is plenty still left in the fridge, and Jimin takes on the duty of reheating it as a silent thank you for the scene.

He’s quieter than usual, and you know it has to do with the intensity of it, at least for him. It was a big deal, actually submitting to another, and both you and Taehyung keep a close eye on him, filling the silence between the two of you so he doesn’t feel the need to exert himself, but keeping him close nonetheless.

At one point, Jimin goes upstairs to take a nap, insisting he’s fine on his own, and Namjoon and Hoseok return inside from where they’d been having a picnic of sorts (or perhaps fucking on the lawn, though they refuse to deny nor confirm your teasing accusation). The four of you put on a random reality show you’d been meaning to watch, and it isn’t long before Jungkook is joining you too, piling on the couch between the two subtle lovebirds. When Jin comes down, he half-watches from the kitchen, preparing some side dishes for dinner, but Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

Your mind doesn’t linger on the thought for long, getting distracted by the dating show that somehow is just as ridiculous as the one you’re on, and you let the time slip by as you watch episode after episode. It’s nice to rest up, aching a little bit in a new place than before, but satisfied.

When Yoongi comes down, you’re so caught up watching television that you don��t even see him. It’s not until he cuts into your line of sight and holds out a decisive hand that you blink into focus and notice his presence.

“Y/n. A minute.”

You stare at him for another minute, brain not catching up. Yoongi huffs and bends down, grabbing onto your hand and tugging you up off the couch.

The others stare at you in bewilderment, and you return the confused gaze over your shoulder as he tug you out of the room.

Stumbling through the hallway, you furrow your eyebrows as he leads you up the stairs, almost frantic in his pace.

Arriving at your own door, he throws it open and pulls you inside and shuts it behind you. Your brain catches up, and you let out an uncertain laugh. “Yoongi, you already did your prompt, you don’t have to-”

You’re cut off by a pair of lips on yours.

Yoongi’s body knocks you back and pins you firmly to the door as his mouth slants against yours. Both hands cupping your face, he kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, tongue darting out slightly to flick at your lips.

You let out a surprised moan that gets entirely swallowed by him, knees weak and held up only by his hold. Frantic, hurried, his kisses convey a thousand praises, and your mind whirls with the sudden passion.

This close, you can smell the musk of his cologne. It dizzies you, and you feel as if his hands on your cheeks and his lips on yours are the only thing anchoring you to the world. They move against you, exploring your mouth with a desperate sweetness. You can’t wrap your head around it, can’t catch up, and so you let yourself drown in it instead, clasping at the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt to hold yourself steady.

When you finally part, he rips himself away with dazed eyes, pupils blown with desire. “Y/n,” he breathes, staring at you in wonder as if for the first time. He steps back again, after a moment, touching his swollen lips with a disbelieving smile. “I really tried, you know.”

You frown in confusion, stepping forward to get closer again. “Tried what? Yoongi, I don’t understand.”

“I tried not to fall in love with you like the rest.”

You have no words, mouth hanging open. Before you can think of anything to say, he’s moving past you and letting himself out of your room, the door half-ajar as his footsteps recede into silence.

You stay up in your room for what must be hours, replaying his words over and over in your head, lips tingling.

You miss dinner that way, too occupied in your own thoughts to even notice the knock at your door. Even as the sky darkens outside your window, you feel too wired to sleep, running through every single interaction you’ve ever had with Yoongi. Reading them in every possible way you could.

Working out if you would be telling the truth to say it back.

Your mind runs in circles, unable to land on a single answer, on a single perspective or truth or belief.

Late into the night, and further to the early hours of the morning, you force yourself to think about every other member in the house, too. About how they treat you, how kind they are to you, the way they look at you.

About the way your heart races when you’re around them, even as they comfort you with their presence alone.

You manage to fall asleep shortly before sunrise, eyes aching and body exhausted, every line of thinking and internal interrogation whittled down to a single two words.

I’m fucked.

#the gentlemen #bts smut #bts x reader #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jin x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #tgm

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