#first of all . i am not a Creep and i have nothing against minors lmao

[fueledbyapplepi]

I love your writing it's so good!!! Could I have reader having a crush on the boys and giving them a kiss while they think the boys are asleep and confessing their love to them with mikey, chifuyu and the haitani brothers? Im just so soft for those boys!!!

Sleep Tight | Mikey, Chifuyu, Ran, and Rindou

- Confessing to the boys while they're (not really) asleep

genre: 🌸 fluff 🌸

warnings: minor cussing

A/N: Thank you, anon! I really got into writing this one ( ◜‿◝ )♡ Also, I honestly think I need to come up with better titles because it sounds like a word vomit to me LMAO Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Mikey (Sano Manjiro)

Life would be nice if you had someone by your side who felt the same way about you.

You already have Mikey by your side, making every day much easier to get by. But does he feel the same way with you?

You practically grew up together with Mikey. Being neighbors with the man, you often come by to play with them as kids- leading to a blooming friendship. Although more often, it was you watching Mikey train in his grandfather’s dojo, where he never fails to amaze you with his tricks. Sometimes, you’ll have sleepovers together with Emma and Mikey where you’ll watch movies with them. Only for Mikey to be sound asleep halfway through the movie.

Growing up, nothing has changed that much with that routine. The only thing that has changed is your growing feelings for Mikey.

You saw the ups and downs in his life. From the time he established Toman to losing Shinichiro, you were there to witness how he would build a castle from the rocks of his downfalls.

So it was no surprise that you find your heart beating much faster when he’s around.

Childish as he is, you can’t deny the fact that Mikey is charismatic, beautiful, and kind. But, you never had the chance to tell him what you feel. Because what if he never saw you the same way?

You looked at Mikey, who’s currently sitting by your side almost half asleep. His head swings from side to side as he struggles on whether he should watch the movie or not.

“Mikey, you always never get to finish our movie nights. You’re no fun.” Emma pouted at his brother as she turned off the television.

“Mhmm, not sleepy.” Mikey turned to look at you then at Emma before leaning on your shoulder. “Just a little.”

Your heart flutters from close contact. “Maybe he’s tired from one of Toman’s meetings.” You turned to look at Emma with a sorry face

Sighing, Emma stepped out of the room as she looked at you, “I’ll get us a blanket, wait here Y/N.”

Your face felt hot as you realized that you were left alone in the room with Mikey. Well, this isn’t unusual for you two but with the strong feelings you have for him, you just can’t help but blush.

You looked at Mikey, his eyelashes seemed a bit longer, making his eyes more beautiful. His lips, although chapped, pouted with the way he’s comfy with you.

“Mikey, can you stop being so pretty? It makes me want to kiss you,” you whispered, thinking that Mikey’s probably dozing off to dreamland.

Mikey opened out one of his eyes to take a peek at you. All the sleepiness vanishing from his body. Did he just hear you right? “Then kiss me, Y/N.”

“Heh? Mikey, you’re awake?” you felt embarrassment creeping into you. “Mikey...I...look, sorry. I-”

Your blabbering mouth was silenced with a peck on the lips. Mikey kissing all your worries away.

“I like you too, Y/N.” He smiled as he leaned closer to you. Your foreheads touching and nose brush against each other.

You felt like you’re on cloud nine. Is this real? Mikey likes you too?

Before you could say anything, the door opened with Emma looking at the two of you weirdly. “Hehhh, am I interrupting something?”

You and Mikey looked at Emma. An embarrassed look on both of your faces as if you were caught red-handed.

Now, there’s a lot of explaining to do.

Chifuyu Matsuno

No matter how many times you try, you always seem to lose.

But who won’t?

With Chifuyu’s angelic smile and kind eyes, your determination to admit your feelings for him always seems to waver. It’s just that your thoughts always fly out the window and anxiousness gets the best of you.

You’ve known Chifuyu for quite some time now. Baji, who’s your cousin, introduced him to you as Toman’s 1st Division Vice-Captain and most trusted partner. Of course, it was only natural for you to be wary of him. Baji might trust him, but he could be some sort of drug dealer or serial killer. Who knows?

You’re wrong though. The more time you spend with Chifuyu, the more you appreciate his presence. How can you not? He always lends you a helping hand whenever you need it. As cliche as it sounds, Chifuyu is like the knight and shining armor in your life.

And now here he is. Once again saving you from another horrible situation.

Chifuyu offered you a ride when he found you drenched from the rain in Shinagawa. Apparently, the weather wouldn’t be pleasant today but you forgot to read the weather forecast. Currently, he brought you to his home for the meantime as the rain wouldn’t be stopping until tomorrow.

“I’ll just text and let Baji-san know that you’ll be staying here.” Chifuyu handed you a blanket as he laid on his futon.

“Thank you, Chifuyu. But I swear it’s okay for me to sleep there. This is your bed anyway.” You said embarrassed.

Chifuyu yawned. Tiredness dropping from his eyes. “It’s alright, Y/N. I can’t let Baji-san’s pretty cousin sleep on the floor.” He smiled at you with a faint blush on his cheeks.

You laid on the bed silently. Blushing from his compliment. Did he just call you beautiful?

You looked at the ceiling for about a good minute before turning to Chifuyu. “Chifuyu-san, I-”

A soft sleeping figure cut you off. The light from the lamp outside reflected on his beautiful features.

You padded off your feet on the floor and sat right next to Chifuyu. Observing him, you notice that he looks prettier when he’s peaceful like this.

You hesitatingly brushed your fingers on his hair. While massaging it, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by your emotions. “I like you, Chifuyu-san.” You smiled proudly at yourself as you finally got to admit your feelings even though he’s asleep.

However, you noticed that the sleeping figure in front of you stiffened and reddened from your statement. Eyes wide, you held a hand in your mouth.

“Chifuyu-san, are you awake?” You hoped that he wasn’t.

But apparently, he is. “I guess you caught me.” Chifuyu sat up and scratched his head as he smiled at you sheepishly. “That felt nice though.”

“I’m sorry!” You bowed your head, hair hiding your flustered state.

“I like it!” Chifuyu panicked. “I mean, no. I like it. But, I like you too, Y/N-san.”

You laughed. At the same time, feeling extremely happy from what you just had heard.

“I guess we have some explaining to do with Baji-san.” you teased him

“Mhmm. But,” he held your hand and put it into his hair. “Would you continue that?” Chifuyu smiled.

“Of course.” You smiled at him, continuing your hair massages.

Looks like you won this time.

Ran Haitani

You’re no medical expert. The only knowledge you got was based on textbooks and first aid knowledge.

Yet somehow, Ran would always come knocking on your door whenever he has cuts or injuries. Sometimes, even without one, he would come by at your place and complain that his body is painful.

And it’s one of those nights again as you hear a soft knock on the door.

Moving to Roppongi, you were warned about the Haitani brothers. How you must stay away from them because they’re just no good. However, you somehow managed to come across the elder Haitani while you were shopping at a local store when he asked you what hair dye he should use.

This little interaction moved from one way to the other and now, ever since Ran found out where you live, he always comes by to let you heal his “injuries”.

You’re not complaining though. Despite the rumors and warnings, Ran was much more different from what other people say. He may be cocky and teasing, but the beautiful man sure is nice when it comes to you.

Causing you to develop a little crush on him.

You opened the door as you welcomed Ran. “Now, what do we have for tonight?”

Ran stepped in as he walked towards the couch. Laying as if he lives around here. “I got a bump on my forehead.” He pointed out as he pouted at you.

“You have Rindou! And you call yourself notorious but you come here whining like a baby.” you rolled your eyes as you got in the kitchen getting an ice pack for the man.

“Here.” You handed out the ice pack as you stood up in front of him.

“No.” Ran rolled his eyes. “Kiss it, Y/N.” he pouted once again.

“You’re not a baby, Ran. Tch.” you sighed as you sat across him. “Take a nap here and I’ll cook for you when you wake up.”

“Now, wifey material aren’t we.” Ran teased as he closed his eyes. Holding the ice packet against his forehead.

About a good 10 minutes have passed and you never heard another bicker from Ran. As you look at him, the man seems to be sleeping like a log.

You crouched down near him. Observing his features. You must say, he’s quite beautiful and more attractive when less chaotic.

“You’re such a big baby.” Thinking that he’s asleep, you kissed the small bump on his forehead.

As you got up to prepare his late dinner, a hand clutched yours.

You felt your body freeze for a moment as you turned around and saw a bastard smiling cockily.

“Do it again, Y/N.” Ran grinned at you as he held on tighter on your hand. “I’m a big baby but your baby.”

“Let me go!.” your face was beat red as you tried to yank off your hands. Only failing as Ran grabbed your arms causing you to fall on top of him.

“I like you, Y/N” Ran hugged you tightly while you were a blushing mess on top of him. “So let's just stay like this for a while.”

And you did.

Being with Ran isn’t so bad after all.

Rindou Haitani

If there’s one thing you’re proud of, it’s the skill you have for coloring people’s hair.

You like dyeing your hair, your friend’s hair, your cousins, and to just anyone who asks for your help. So it was no surprise when Rindou asked you to help him in doing his highlights.

Of course you can’t say no. Not because he is a Haitani but because you actually like his presence. When you’re around him, everything seems more calm and peaceful.

Despite being a menace around Roppongi, you and Rindou are actually good friends. You’ve known each other when he saved your ass around a group of guys who tried to harass you. And although he was stoic to you at first, he was able to ease up to you because of your caring nature.

After all, you recognized him as Rindou Haitani and not “Ran’s younger brother”. And he appreciated you for it.

So now here you are in their living room. Currently finished in dyeing Rindou’s hair.

“And there you have it. We just have to wait for an hour or so before washing it.” You tidied all the mess up as Ran sat and observed you. “By the way, why won’t you let me dye Ran’s hair?”

He raised an eyebrow upon your question. “Because he can’t have you.” Your eyes widened from his statement. Rindou, realizing what he just said, covered it up with an excuse. “I mean, I want him to dye his own hair and let it look shit. If he wants someone to dye his hair properly, he can go to the salon.”

You laughed at his statement. Well, he can actually crack up jokes once in a while if he loosens up his strict facade. “Oh Rindou, we also need to buy an extra conditioner.”

You looked up and saw the man with closed eyes. Deciding that you don’t want to disturb his sleep, you sat quietly beside him and observed him.

Rindou is already handsome with his glasses. But you realized that he looks much cuter without one.

He just looks good in anything.

You traced the bridge of his nose as you admired his features. “You know what? I actually might have feelings for you.” you muttered softly as you smiled.

“Let’s go out on a date then.” Rindou opened his eyes as he looked at you. Your lips a few inches away from his.

“Rindou!!!” You sat up straight. “I thought you were-”

“Asleep? Well I’m not.” he smiled at you as reached out for your hand. “But I meant it Y/N. I like you, and I want us to go on a date.” Rindou looked at you, hoping for an immediate response.

He does like you. After all, you were the only person who he was able to open up to other than Ran.

“Okay.” You smiled as you brushed your thumb at the top of his hand.

Rindou caressed your cheeks. Leaning in and going for a kiss.

“Ohh. Can I join?” a teasing voice butted in. Causing you two to look at the tall man who’s leaning in the doorframe. “I mean can I join Y/N’s dye party? Just continue that later.”

“Ran, get out!” Rindou shouted as he pointed at the door to his brother.

Well, things quickly escalated with the brothers.

As well as your relationship with Rindou.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers headcanons #sano manjiro #mikey x reader #mikey x y/n #mikey x you #mikey imagines #mikey headcanons #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu x y/n #chifuyu x you #chifuyu imagines #chifuyu headcanons #haitani brothers #haitani ran #ran x reader #ran x y/n #ran x you #ran imagines #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #rindou x y/n #rindou x you #rindou imagines

[cle1024]

save me, save you | hhj

member: hwang hyunjin 

genre: angst, fluff 

summary: getting involved with the mafia was certainly not something you aimed to do in life―it was something you would’ve gratefully avoided, you much preferred breathing and living peacefully. yet, somehow, meeting him made the danger worth it.  mafia!au, gang!au, fem!reader 

warnings: mentions of murder, violence, drugs, swearing 

a/n: so uh,, i know nothing about saving someone’s life or fixing up a stab/bullet wound, and i also wasn’t taught much about human anatomy, so there WILL be inaccuracies in the medical scenes. i apologise in advance and i guess this is a cringe warning for anyone who is actually educated on those situations, i dropped out of science so can’t relate. i started this not long after miroh dropped i could just never be bothered to finish it until recently, but third hyunjin fanfic in a row here we come!!!!!! 

There was no doubt in your mind that Felix Lee was your best friend and always had been. 

The two of you grew up near one another, subsequently attending school together for the majority of your lives. It was the third day of school when the freckled boy approached you, tanned skin and dark hair, but a bright smile and sparkly eyes. 

“My name is Felix, let’s be friends!” 

“Okay.” 

Life by Felix’s side was enjoyable, content. Life was normal. And so, when Felix broke the news that he was moving to South Korea, you were understandably devastated. Though, you knew how much it meant to Felix: getting more in touch with his culture, family, and pursuing his studies more seriously and competitively. Nonetheless, despite all the pain and upset you felt, you supported his decision and maintained contact with him. 

That was six years ago when Felix left. Now, you’d both graduated from high school, Felix had acquired a stable job (that’s all he would tell you about it), and you were applying for an international studies program. You had no interest in the program initially, but your local universities had less than stellar resources for the course you wanted to study, and your teachers had constantly reassured that you were smart enough for a more prestigious institution elsewhere in the world. That and the fact the program meant your tuition would cost much less. You hadn’t expected to be accepted into the program, nor did you expect to receive a letter from the prestigious Seoul National University accepting your enrolment, yet you sat there with the printed letter in front of your awestruck face. It was only natural that you immediately text Felix—you told each other, almost, everything and he lived in Seoul, this could be the reunion you’d joked about when he first left. 

  |  so i got accepted into seoul national university    |  but i don’t speak good korean    |  lix: LMAO ME NEITHER HOLY FUCK 

Twelve months had passed since that message was sent. Your were almost fluent in speaking Korean, you much preferred just listening to it and speaking English with Felix. A sigh escaped your lips as you trudged to your apartment door, exhaustion racked your body from the unbearable demand of studying medical science. You tried to convince yourself it would pay off, but you weren’t certain yet. Perhaps when you sit your exams you’ll find out. Exams. Why did you have to think that up? It drew a small groan from your mouth as you shoved the key into your apartment door, prepared to fall face first into the couch and complain to the air. Though your desires could not be fulfilled. Sitting on the very couch you intended to fall into was Felix, twirling a swiss army knife twirl around his right fingers as he watched his phone intently. There was also a gun on the coffee table. Someone’s gun was on your coffee table. You had a lot running through your mind, many questions and minor concerns about why the fuck Felix had illicit weaponry in your house, but all you managed to say was, “oh.” The boy obviously hadn’t heard you come in, his head snapping up and his fingers halting their twirling. Looking in your eyes, he felt obligated to tell you everything.  

“That means I’m, basically, part of the mafia,” he paused to lick his lips, “we don’t sell weapons to the wrong people or kill for money. It’s more about… corruption and the occasional cocaine,” he summed up gently. You could definitively say it was the wildest fucking thing Felix had ever said to you, and you’d had some pretty odd conversations at two in the morning. As far as you knew, his job was stable and high paying, but you didn’t know it was completely and utterly illegal. Most sane people would flip their shit in this situation, cut off ties with Felix and shove him—along with all his weapons—out of the apartment. You didn’t react that way, and you weren’t sure whether it was because you were far too open-minded or because you had slowly lost your mind over time and become desensitised to any sort of shocking news. 

“Oh.” 

Felix chewed on his lip as you processed the information, clasping and unclasping his hands. He prepared for the worst, but you simply shrugged, “okay.” 

Felix was beyond bewildered, “y-you’re not mad? Or scared?” Your eyes softened at his questioning. 

“Felix, why would I be mad? It’s your life, do whatever you want with it. Your job doesn’t change the fact you’re a freckled sook who cried when you made your ramen too spicy.” 

“Okay, that was one time,” you laughed at his defensive expression and that was enough to break the facade completely. The two of you laughed for a little while until Felix’s face returned to a more serious expression, “Y/N, I promise you, you’re in no danger whatsoever. The golden rule in this district is to leave innocent people out of it, regardless of how much someone fucked you over. If anyone, and I mean anyone, does anything that alarms you or threatens you, you call me right away. Understand?” 

A soft smile stretched across your face at his concern, “of course I will,” Felix breathed a sigh of relief. If anything happened to you, especially at the fault of his job, he’d never forgive himself. To him, family came before his own safety; you were his unbiological sibling and he would always protect you as best as he could. 

It was all fine and dandy until someone broke that rule. Your eyes stung with exhaustion, the bright screen of your laptop glared at you as you tiredly read the words displayed on the screen. There was nothing you craved more at the moment than sleep; you seemed to be craving that a lot since you came to Korea. At first, you thought the distant sound of a doorknob being wobbled was one of your neighbours. It was a Friday night—or Saturday morning, you supposed—they’d probably gone out, got shit-faced and stumbled back home, having forgotten how to unlock a door. But then the noise stopped, a door squeaked open and was gently shut. You heard the door click back into place, and that’s when things started to feel off. It sounded too close to be next door—now that you thought about it, neither of your neighbours would even be out at this time. Perhaps it was Felix, he had often complained about how shitty the door to your apartment was. With a stretch of your arms and legs momentarily you pushed yourself from the bed, creeping towards your bedroom door. The cool metal of the doorknob brushed against your skin, seconds away from being opened when a series of crashes sounded from the small living room on the other side of the door. Felix may be clumsy, he may sit up too quickly and hit his head on tables, but he rarely managed to break anything in the process—if he did then the sound was followed with a string of English curses, but cuss words never came. You were starting to believe it was Felix. With all the courage you could muster, you opened the bedroom door and stood shocked at the scene in front of you. A vase lay broken on the floor—crash one. Your white sofa had been tipped backwards, the cushions scattered the floor. The coffee table had been overturned, candles left strewn on the floor. Your porcelain plate, which had previously sat by the sink, was attempting to escape the kitchen in hundreds of pieces—crash two. The wooden shelving unit diagonal to your bedroom had been tipped over, all your picture frames smashed into dangerous shards of glass—crash three. The chest of drawers near your bedroom door had been left untouched for the time being, a photo of you and Felix at seven years old perfectly intact. In the midst of chaos, a man stood with a black ski mask covering his face. All you could see where his ominous brown eyes, staring right back at you. It felt like you were staring into a dark pool, full of mystery yet devoid of emotion or sense of reality. It seemed to happen in an instant; one minute you were standing there in an intense stare off, the next you had been shoved against the wall of your living room right next to your bedroom door, your phone falling from your free hand in the process. His glove-clad hand wrapped securely around your throat, the pressure of his fingers increasing to cut off your air supply once and for all. You clawed at him, but you already knew it was no use. He was twice the size of you, had the upper hand, and had already weakened you significantly. You’d already accepted that you were destined to die at some point, everyone was, but you’d always secretly prayed that you’d get to say goodbye first. You didn’t want to leave without telling your parents you loved them, or telling your friends back home that they were some of the greatest people you’d ever met, or just saying a simple ‘cya’ to Felix, as you always did. Felix. The memory struck you like lightning as your vision started to spot slightly. When he confessed to you about his career, made that promise of protection, he had purposefully left something behind. 

“Take this,” Felix said as he held the swiss army knife towards you. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“If you ever need to defend yourself and I can’t, for some reason, use it.” 

You’d made the wise decision to hide it in your living room, behind that picture of you and Felix. If you could stretch your arm just a little further, you could grab the red covering. Your fingers strained as you held out for the weapon, head lifting up as your vision worsened. The sharp metal tickled at your fingers, causing you to desperately snatch the weapon up. You used all the coherence you had left, swiftly flicking the knife out of the plastic covering. Your vision was blurred, severely, and you could feel yourself losing consciousness. Just a little longer. With all the strength you could muster, you brought the blade upwards, taking no notice of where you stabbed him. A grunt left his lips, followed by some choked gasps. His hand unlatched from your neck to grab his own. You fell to your knees, wheezing for oxygen desperately, taking deep breaths as you coughed and gasped. Your eyes traveled downwards, catching sight of the red. There was blood all along the knife, staining your fingers. The man lay ahead of you on his back, blood spilling from his throat as he twitched and choked up the metallic substance. It was all over the floor around him. You could tell you’d caught an artery. In desperation, you tugged the purple hoodie from your shoulders, holding it against the man’s open neck wound. It seemed to get harder to breathe, even without the hand working to restrict your. Hands shaking, covered in the man’s crimson blood, tears streamed down your face. With the absence of your purple hoodie, now stained with the blood of someone else, the cold air nipped at your exposed skin. There were some red smears on your once white singlet. Why was there so much red? The shaking of your hands only worsened as you crawled to sit against the wall, hand reaching for the cellphone you’d dropped in the commotion. You only needed one person right now. The phone didn’t ring for long. 

“Y/N, what’s up?” Felix spoke calmly through the phone, blissfully unaware. A sob forced up your throat as you tried to talk. 

“F-Felix, I killed someone. Oh, God, I killed someone,” your voice came out between broken sobs. You could imagine Felix standing up in a panic, gathering his shit and furrowing his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean? Where are you?” 

“I-I’m at home, someone came in and I didn’t know what was happening and I-I stabbed him, Felix I sta-” 

“Hey, take a deep breath, okay? I’m on my way right now, don’t move,” you nodded in response, knowing fully well that Felix couldn’t see you. Mumbling an okay, you ended the call. 

Felix gently pushed open the door, ushering in the others. Chan, Minho and Changbin had insisted on coming along with Felix, worried someone else could be lurking and waiting for Felix to enter your apartment block. The apartment was in disarray: furniture tipped, photo frames shattered, a plate thrown carelessly like a toy. A body surrounded by blood, and Felix’s childhood friend sitting against the wall behind it, shaking. The purple material of your hoodie was stained, noticeably so, laying across your legs haphazardly. Felix rushed forward, crouching to your level and pulling you into his chest. The others watched from a few feet away, uncertain of what to say or do. 

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” Felix cooed as sobs wracked your form. He swayed you gently, petting your hair to calm you down. The youngest turned his attention towards the other boys once your sobs quietened slightly, “Minho, can you take Y/N back down to the car? We’ll be down in a minute,” Minho nodded silently, gently walking towards you to scoop you up in his arms, the hoodie remaining bundled up on your legs. Neither of you said a word once you entered the car. Minho peeled the cover up from your lap, slightly gagging at the toxic iron scent of the blood. He gently take your hands in his as he washed off as much blood as he could with a white cloth and water bottle. Your mind was evidently elsewhere. 

Chan and Felix returned to the car ten minutes later after thoroughly searching for stolen possessions. Chan filled Minho in on the details, hoping you’d gain some closure from hearing them, “he was from NCT, had some silver bracelets and their wallet shoved in his bag. Changbin called Woojin, they’ll put everything back in place,” Minho nodded softly as Felix opened up the car door on your other side. The car starts as Felix takes one of your hands in his, the red stains faded to a lighter tone. You seemed to take no notice, staring blankly at the car’s console in front of you. 

It was late, or early depending on how you see it. Red lines illuminated in formation of the time, 3:36am. The car had pulled up in front of a dark house in a quieter area of Seoul, yet still off one of the main roads. You concluded that it was only quiet because of the ungodly time, otherwise there would be cars cramming the streets, honking left and right. Chan exited the car first, purposefully closing the door gently to not alarm or shock you, Minho following suit. Felix opened his door, tugging your hand gently to encourage you to leave the vehicle. It was as if you were on autopilot. Blood splattered legs moved on their own as the green hoodie Minho had leant you protected your arms from the chilling night air, Felix’s arm slipped around your waist to support you as you walked into the house. He noticed that Woojin’s car was missing from the street; he wondered how long it would take Woojin and Changbin to fix up your apartment. As you stepped foot inside the quiet house, it revealed itself to be much larger than you initially thought. The kitchen was furthest from you, a spiral staircase to the right that led you both upstairs and downstairs, a hallway that trailed off from the left side of the living room. The living room was cozy and inhabited by two boys packing cocaine. Lovely. 

“Hey ma- what the fuck?” The smaller of the two, a brunette boy with chubby cheeks, spoke as he raised his head to greet the returning members. The other boy, with lighter brown hair, almost a dirty blonde, mirrored the other’s confusion. Neither had expected to see a random person with bloody hands, legs and absent eyes being guided through the house by Felix. The freckled boy didn’t stop to greet them, immediately guiding you upstairs to wash off in the bathroom. The two boys immediately understood the severity of the situation, but they still craved for answers. 

“NCT went after them. All they did was defend themselves from death,” Chan spoke firmly, his eyebrows slightly curved in a mix of sympathy and fury.  

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed, “but we don’t go after innocent people?” 

Chan huffed in response, “clearly NCT had other plans. Where’s Seungmin?”  

“Basement. Jeongin’s there too,” Hyunjin spoke as he turned his attention back to the white substance on the coffee table. Chan nodded firmly before leaving, Minho falling onto the empty couch across from the two boys to stretch his tired limbs. Hyunjin sat with furrowed eyebrows, staring at the table intensely. 

“Hyunjin, you good?” Minho questioned in concern. 

“Yeah, just… something feels off about this.” 

Jisung huffed a laugh, “well, yeah, NCT just broke a golden rule.” 

“That’s the point, why would they?” Jisung had suddenly lost interest in the business transaction being organised on the table, Minho sitting up in curiosity. Hyunjin flickered his eyes to the staircase momentarily, “you know how anal they are about maintaining that rule. Taeyong made the damn rule after…” Hyunjin trailed off as all eyes lowered solemnly, no one wanted to utter her name. They all knew how much it hurt Taeyong when she was murdered, everyone was hurt, shocked. There was no reason to bring up old pain, “why would they break it now?” Minho tilted his head as he wandered over the possibilities, Jisung put his focus back on the white substance with a sigh. 

“Whatever the reason, Chan will make them pay,” his nimbled hands continued with his previous work, “no fucking doubt.” 

Chan stood as Taeyong entered the cafe, bowing and shaking hands before sitting down again. It was better to meet in a public setting, less likely for emotions and irrationality to get the better of anyone involved. The older ran a hand through his fiery red hair in frustration, “what happened?” 

Chan lowered his voice cautiously, “Felix’s friend, Y/N... one of your men tried to kill them this past Friday.” 

Taeyong moved forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on the table with narrowed eyes, “what are you talking about?” 

“Ji Hansol broke into their apartment and almost killed an innocent person. One of your men broke the golden rule.” 

“Where is he?” Taeyong was evidently furious; that rule was the one thing he drilled into his employees’ minds. 

“Dead. It was either him or them.” 

Taeyong shook his head in disbelief, “if they hadn’t have already killed him I would’ve done it myself,” he paused abruptly, eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement, “wait—Ji Hansol?” Chan nodded, “how is that possible? He’s meant to be in China.” 

Chan mirrored Taeyong’s look of confusion, “then what the hell was he doing here?” 

Taeyong sighed, “as suspicious as it looks, I swear on her life that NCT was not behind this in any way. I’ll get the documents to prove he wasn’t meant to be here, I’ll help you get to the bottom of this, I’ll do whatever I can,” his voice softened significantly, “no innocent person deserves to die.” 

Lee Taeyong, as intimidating as he could be, was truly a weakened man. Behind the eyebrow slit, dark narrowed eyes, fiery red hair and commanding presence, he was a grieving lover, a leader of men who could die under his call. Chan knew he hadn’t lived the same experiences as the older, but he understood the fear that plagued him. The fear of losing everything, everyone—the only difference was that Taeyong had already experienced that when she died. Seulgi had done such a good job at keeping Taeyong together, but in doing so she became the only thing that could tear him apart. 

No one had a clue as to why you were targeted to begin with. NCT had proven their lack of involvement, none of Chan’s gang — which you’d come to know as ‘Stray Kids’ — had done anything to provoke Hansol, and he clearly wasn’t here to give an explanation. Seungmin had spent weeks researching the man, with the occasional help of Jeongin when he wasn’t at school or using an innocent childlike facade to coax information. After just over two months, Seungmin had finally found out what happened. During that time, you hadn’t left the guest room unless it was absolutely necessary. Felix and Changbin had returned to your apartment the day after the break-in to collect the belongings you’d need most desperately; none of them wanted you returning to the apartment until there was an answer. 

Seungmin’s chair swivelled around to face Chan and Taeyong in the doorway, “Voler.” 

“What?” 

“It’s French for ‘steal’ apparently,” Seungmin gestured his pen towards his desk, “it’s also the name of a huge hitman and robbery scheme across Asia. It’s believed to have stemmed from the Yakuza, but nothing’s confirmed. Our dear Hansol happened to be a loyal member.” 

Taeyong shook his head in disbelief, “I-I don’t understand, how could he betray us like that?” 

Seungmin sighed softly, “it paid very high, mainly because the stakes were so high. That doesn’t matter though, we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands now,” Seungmin’s hands sifted through the scattered information on his desk, a small noise of triumph leaving his soft lips once he retrieved the piece he was looking for, “they’ve got a base in Ilsandong-gu, Hansol was stationed at that specific base-” 

“Which means they were more likely to have involvement in Y/N’s robbery,” Chan voiced earning a satisfied nod from Seungmin. The curly-haired man turned to Taeyong, “you in?” 

Taeyong eyed the younger two momentarily, “without a fucking doubt.” 

Woojin grunted slightly as he supported Hyunjin with his left arm. They all knew the dangers this mission presented, but none of them quite preempted severe injury. Everything had been going to plan; Changbin sniped the first man who presented himself, Minho snuck up on the second, then all hell broke loose. There was blood everywhere, gunshots whizzing past barricades left and right, it was pure chaos. Hyunjin had been grappling with a rival member, trying to gain dominance in order to reach for the gun abandoned beside the two. He had almost reached it when the other forced a knife through his abdomen towards the upper right of his belly button. Changbin took the chance to shoot the perpetrator in the head after noticing the situation, desperately signalling to Woojin. Soon, all of SKZ were alerted of Hyunjin’s state, covering Woojin from gunfire as he half-dragged half-carried Hyunjin out of the warehouse. 

When you heard the door burst open, the last thing you expected to see was a groaning Hyunjin leaning on Woojin for support. You saw the blood staining his shirt, pouring from his abdomen, causing your stomach to churn and rid of the desire to eat the sandwich you’d just made. You hardly knew Hyunjin, or Woojin, or any of SKZ except for Felix, but you knew where your morals lied. If there was a man bleeding out in front of you, you’d do everything you could to save his life. There’s no denying that you didn’t have extreme confidence in your medical ability, at least in terms of operating on dying people, but you put that aside in the moment. You knew how the human body worked and how to save it, all you had to do was not fuck up in the process. Instantly, you snap into action, trailing behind Woojin towards their designated medical room. The only time you’d entered the room was when Felix forced you inside so Woojin could properly check the bruises on your neck. You had taken notice of the lack of anesthesia or oxygen masks to be used in desperate situations—Felix had once told you that Woojin always patched them up, but he also told you that no one had ever been fatally wounded. 

Woojin’s panic was evident in the way he hastily laid Hyunjin down on the operating table, eyes darting around frantically. With quick steps, you moved beside Woojin, “get a cloth or something to put in his mouth, it’ll muffle the screams,” the older nodded quickly. You turned your attention back to Hyunjin—he was paler than usual, sweating and groaning, his condition was only worsening. As soon as Woojin had shoved the cloth in his mouth you proceeded, ordering him to hold Hyunjin down to the best of his ability. You were glad Woojin was strong; Hyunjin would be in a hell of a lot of pain. Hyunjin’s neck tensed as you placed a hand on the knife’s handle, grunting slightly at the movement. You took a deep breath, laying a hand on his abdomen for support as you removed the knife from him as quickly as you could. A pained scream tore from Hyunjin’s throat, guttural and haunting. The cloth had done little to muffle the sound. Your hands applied pressure to the wound, frantically working to halt the bleeding before it was too late, all the while Woojin promised he would treat Hyunjin to a free meal if he got through the pain. 

Hyunjin’s chest raised up and down peacefully as he slept in the white bed of the medical room. After screaming and groaning his way through the process of getting stitches, he haphazardly downed a glass of water before falling asleep. You found it difficult to monitor whether the boy had made it or not due to the lack of heart monitor, the peaceful sounds of his breathing would have to do for now. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Y/N, really,” Woojin spoke warmly. You’d have previous assumptions about the mafia and gangs, mainly based on Hollywood flicks that dramatised the career choice, but the nine boys seemed to throw those all out the window. Woojin had a nurturing and calming presence, Felix was playful and giving, that Minho guy who’d fixed you up that night was quiet and respectful. To be fair, the rest of them could have entirely fit the stereotype of the mafia, you just hadn’t interacted with them enough to find out. After the events that brought you here, you decided it would be best to just stay out of the way and keep to yourself—both for your benefit and theirs. You didn’t want to interrupt what they had going on and you didn’t want to interact with anyone. With a polite smile you nodded your head, unsure of how to respond to Woojin. 

Chan stood in the doorway as you laid the damp cloth on Hyunjin’s head. Two days had passed since the stabbing and you’d devoted all your time to helping Hyunjin—you figured it would be a good way to repay them for letting you stay here, and you were the most qualified to do so. Hyunjin wanted nothing more than to get back to work but his body simply refused. Exhaustion wracked his limbs when he was awake and every time he attempted to sit up, let alone stand, his head felt like a bowling ball and weighed him back down. He’d fallen asleep not long ago, before Chan came to check on him. You weren’t aware of the older’s presence until he spoke up, startling you into a flinch of fright. 

“Thank you for doing this.” 

You half-smiled at him, “it’s okay.” 

The male sighed gently before walking into the room, the click of the door shutting behind him sliced through the room’s air. You felt his presence beside you as you refused to meet his gaze—he was far too intimidating even by just standing there, “I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this,” his voice was gentler than before. Soft, calm, genuine—he probably wouldn’t fit the stone cold stereotype set by Vito Corleone in The Godfather, “we’ll figure out a safer place for you to go, but, in the meantime, just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. I truly am sorry that you got dragged into this.” 

You turned your head in order to meet Chan’s gaze. It was soft, genuine, and almost broken. You got the feeling that he didn’t enter this lifestyle willingly, that he knew exactly what it was like to suddenly be affiliated with a lifestyle you had little to no prior knowledge about. Chan wasn’t here by choice, but he stuck by it. He followed through with what fate served him and he built an empire from it, he found a family to live through the darkest of days. You admired that more than he could know, “I will. Thank you for what you’ve done.” 

Chan didn’t voice it, but he saw your arrival as a potential opportunity. You were familiar with medicine and how to properly patch someone up after they receive a life-threatening injury. Rather than losing two fighters when someone is injured, surely it would be better to have a designated nurse who could stick to the job, instead of forcing Woojin to rush through life-saving surgery in order to make it back to a mission in time to drive everyone back to the house. Chan knew it was a desperate deal, stupid and selfish in all honesty, but your arrival could’ve been a long-term blessing in disguise. After all, Chan’s life had been largely riddled with bad luck, perhaps karma had finally taken mercy on him. 

At least a month had passed since the incident—you really had no concept of time in this place—and Hyunjin was slowly, but surely, recovering with no sign of infection. You’d also seen his bare abdomen one too many times at this point since he insists on being shirtless―he avidly insists “it’ll be easier than fucking up my shirt.” Aside from monitoring his recovery and trying not to stare at his perfectly sculpted abdomen, you’d began to form a good bond with Hyunjin during your time together. You never talked to him until the incident, mainly because you never had a reason to leave the room you were staying in, and you couldn’t deny you were slightly mad with yourself for not conversing sooner. He was entertaining to talk to, a little bit of a drama queen sometimes, yet intelligent and open-minded. Hyunjin had a good mix of personality traits, you slightly envied him for such. Surely conversing with someone like yourself was bland and repetitive. 

Of course it was unbeknownst to you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth; Hyunjin had taken an interest in you since you began caring for him. All he had known about you prior to your care was that you and Felix had been good friends for a while, you were studying at university, and your shit got rocked by someone you didn’t even know―it was an unfortunate turn to say the least. The fact it happened to you made Hyunjin curse the forces that caused it; there was no reason for you to be dragged into this kind of unforgiving, inescapable lifestyle when you had a heart of gold. He could vividly recall the conversation that prompted the revelation, it must’ve been two or more weeks into his recovery. 

“I assume you study nursing or something, right?” 

“Medical science, but close enough,” you shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Why medical science instead of becoming a doctor or something?” 

“We all die one day, I’d rather help find a cure for something than force people to suffer through it slowly.” 

Hyunjin hadn’t known how to respond to that, so he didn’t, but it resonated with him. The whole reason he’d joined the business, this kind of inescapable lifestyle, was to earn enough money to pay for better treatment for his mother. He got close, really damn close, but he just didn’t get there in time. The first non-business phone call he got was to inform him about his mother’s passing, he hadn’t received another since. 

It was evident to Hyunjin, and every other member, that you were incredibly smart―a fact Felix would boast as if it was his own. Your skills, mainly in the science field, could come in useful to the gang: you had a good medical understanding, knew which chemicals could do harm or hinder a person momentarily. Chan was intrigued by your abilities and more than willing to take you on board, but no one ever joined without the approval of every member. Gaining such had been a difficult task, with Felix insisting that he didn’t want to see you hurt or in harm’s way―his mind quickly changed when Jeongin asked “wouldn’t it be just like a sleepover?” Hyunjin wasn’t as easy to persuade. He didn’t share the fact he was hesitant, but he didn’t need to. It was written all over his symmetrical face. 

Truthfully, Hyunjin had grown a little too close to you during his recovery, obliviously until he had a startling epiphany. You were the last thing he saw when he fell asleep, the first thing he saw when he woke up. You cared for him more than yourself, it was evident in your under eye bags and weight loss ― to the point where he had refused to eat unless you were eating with him. When he looked at you, the evening sunset highlighting you perfectly and your hair unstyled, yet sitting neatly on your head, he knew he was in deep. Regarding his feelings, he had two concerns: whether you felt the same way, and whether Felix would be accepting of his feelings and approve him as a candidate for your love; he didn’t need the added possibility of you fucking dying to become the third concern. At the end of the day, he supposed it didn’t matter. Felix would never want anyone to hurt you, and even if he didn’t intend to, Hyunjin knew he would inevitably end up doing so. 

When Chan proposed for you to join their gang, you were hesitant to say the least. For you, there was no desperate situation in which you needed cash quickly, no reason to put yourself in harm’s way. It was dangerous, Chan admitted that to your face, but he promised you consistent protection and a position that didn’t include staring down the barrel of a gun. 

“Y/N, you’ve been here for four months already. How many times have you been hurt?” 

You didn’t like his persuasiveness, or the fact he was right. Since you moved into their guest bedroom you’d felt safer, no longer feeling eyes follow you or whispers of your name in the middle of the night. There was a small part of you that wanted to decline the offer, return home to your apartment and never look in the eyes of Chan or Hyunjin ever again. Of course, that was only a small part of you. Although you hated to admit it, you knew you’d never be able to return to that apartment. Not without seeing the blood all over again, feeling the breath leave your lungs or hearing unexplainable noises elsewhere in the apartment. With a soft movement of your head, you agreed, “okay.” 

Chan smiled with a strong nod, he was fond of you after all, as were the others in the group. It seemed that everyone was in support of the decision, especially your freckled friend who beamed as he exclaimed, “it’ll be like an eternal sleepover!” 

“That sounds like a nightmare if you’re involved,” Seungmin deadpanned, but his stoic expression was quickly replaced by an amused smile at Felix’s pout. Though, everything wasn’t as it seemed. Hyunjin, as much as he wanted to be, wasn’t excited. You joining the gang ― regardless of whether you would be in the middle of the action ― meant seeing you everyday. Seeing you everyday meant realising how much he admired you. And admiring you meant he would only fall deeper. How could he tell anyone that, though? Such an objection would send a rift of embarrassment, discomfort, awkwardness through the house; everything would fall. There was no time for silly crushes. All he could do was admire you from afar and ache every time you walked away from him, completely oblivious to how he felt. When did he become so weak? Hyunjin didn’t like feeling vulnerable, and that’s exactly how you made him feel. With a soft sigh, he decided it would be better to just stay away. 

It was a solid plan―for a month, until Hyunjin was injured again in a trade gone wrong. If he was being completely honest with himself, which he recently was not, the constant thought of you kept him from concentrating during the trade. He felt so out of it, blocking out the sounds of his non-biological brothers yelling as a bullet whizzed towards him. No, all he saw was the way you looked so ethereal in the light, the way you would always be just out of reach. All he could think about with you, there was no time to consider the scars being etched in his abdomen. Faintly, he could feel the burning in his chest, Chan’s arms dragging him away as bullets rang out from Changbin’s position on the roof. He didn’t register being put in the car, or Chan demanding he keep his eyes open with a hand pressed tightly against his chest. He could feel his feet dragging slightly as Chan and Woojin dragged him inside, the sight of Hyunjin’s pale face and bleeding chest forcing Seungmin, Minho and Jeongin to abandon their intense game of uno. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, shit,” Chan and Woojin couldn’t find the time to scold Jeongin’s language, too concerned with the dying boy in their arms. Jeongin’s feet pounded up the stairs, throwing your door open and tugging you to the first aid room. The confusion on your features transformed to gut-wrenching worry as soon as you caught sight of Hyunjin, his shirt off and a cloth being stuffed in his mouth―you couldn’t tell whether it was Minho or Woojin who was holding him down while the other gathered the necessary equipment, everything seemed to blur as you jumped into action. You’d found someone willing to sell you, an unlicensed medical student, anesthesia, but it was due to arrive next week―just your luck. Chan’s hands clamped on Hyunjin’s legs, Seungmin turned away to avoid the gruesome sight, Jeongin lingered by the door. 

“I’m sorry,” the words came out as a whisper as you took the scalpel from Woojin, slicing across where the bullet had entered. The entry hole was too small to get it out safety―who were you kidding, you weren’t even sure if you could get it out. The cloth only slightly muffled the pained groan Hyunjin let out, gosh, you wished that anesthesia could’ve come sooner. Screams of agony tore from his throat as tweezers worked to remove the bullet, the writhing of his legs causing anxiety to rise in your chest. 

“Keep him still,” Woojin ordered. One sudden move and you’d live with the crushing guilt of knowing you let Hyunjin die. Hyunjin seemed to vaguely register Woojin’s words, opting to tense his muscles rather than squirm away from the pain. Seungmin covered his ears with a solemn expression while Jeongin looked away in discomfort, the shrill cries continuing. It was close, too close for your liking, to hitting Hyunjin in a fatal area or embedding deeply in his chest. 

“I got it,” you mumbled as the bloody metal was dumped in the dish beside you. Woojin ushered everyone out of the room, Hyunjin’s screams of agony downgrading to groans. 

“Give me a call if you need anything,” the oldest closed the door behind him. You heard the front door slam open and shut with frantic footsteps, marking the return of Felix, Changbin and Jisung. Words were calmly and indistinguishably spoken by Chan. Though, it didn’t matter what he was telling them, your priority was making sure Hyunjin wouldn’t cease breathing. His eyelids were fluttering shut from exhaustion, an action that would flare alarm in your chest. 

“Please, don’t fall asleep.” 

The cloth was removed from his mouth when it was over, your hand raking his hair away from his sweaty forehead, ridding of the uncomfortable sensation. A sigh passed your lips, voice soft as you spoke, “you need to stop making a habit out of this,” it was directed towards Hyunjin, but you weren’t sure he heard it. 

Hyunjin wanted to respond, something flirty he could blame on his disorientation and pain, but you were already urging him to down some bottled water. As you cleaned the utensils, Hyunjin allowed his eyes to flutter closed, whispering a gentle “thank you, Y/N.” 

Time passed without your acknowledgement; had it been weeks, months? It all blended together, you couldn’t be certain. Hyunjin was close to recovery, but not quite there. Frankly, you were getting tired of his occasional complaints about not “being in action”. Part of you hoped he’d stay out of action if it kept him safe, but you knew that wasn’t an option in this kind of lifestyle. The roots of his hair were coming through, the dirty blonde darkening to have a light brown tone instead. It was the little things that were becoming noticeable as you spent more time with him; the moles on his face, the way the sun seeped through the window and reflected so clearly in his eyes. He sat on what was referred to as the ‘operation table’―except it wasn’t padded and was likely meant for veterinarians―as you searched for mild pain medication. When you turned around, you couldn’t help but take a moment to admire him. His head was turned away from you, gazing wistfully out the window, the setting sun illuminating his honey skin in rays of golden sunshine. He looked like a statue from Greek mythology, sculpted by the Gods to embody perfection, frame marked with the scars of a warrior. They littered his abdomen, one from the stabbing, one from the bullet, one on his lower back that Woojin had patched up for him before you came ― it was obvious in the way it was majorly faded. A sigh passed the male’s plump lips, looking down at his fidgeting hands before looking up at you. If only you knew what he thought about you. How he felt you were incomparable, the finest piece of art to ever be masterfully painted. The oversized white shirt you wore contrasted your glowing skin and hung around your figure in an unfitted, yet still accentuating, manner. It wasn’t quite long enough to hide your blue pyjama shorts from sight. You approached him quietly, holding out the painkillers and a glass of water. Pulling yourself on the table, you sit beside Hyunjin as he downs the painkillers and watch the sunset. He glances over at you curiously, gulping down a mouthful of water, “you seem to be pretty good at saving lives, why aren’t you a doctor already?” A light laugh passed your lips. 

“Because I’m not studying to become a doctor, and I haven’t spent, what? Nine years studying?” 

“It takes nine years to become a doctor?” Hyunjin’s eyes almost bulged out of his skull. You shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Something like that,” a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, watching as the sun swam closer to the horizon, “besides, I don’t think I’d be able to handle the pressure of saving someone’s life.” 

A chuckle sounded from Hyunjin, “you say that, yet you’ve saved me from death twice.” You grew silent, he looked at you knowingly. The thought had never crossed your mind, you didn’t want to consider the possibility of Hyunjin dying―you didn’t want to imagine any of them dying, Hyunjin was the only one who’d come close so far. 

“Yeah, but that’s… different.” 

“How is it different?” Hyunjin looked towards you with a quirked eyebrow; you often wondered that too. You refused to look at him, too afraid of spilling all your secrets with one glance―but they came out in whispers, regardless. 

“Because… I can’t live a life where you’re dead.” 

The words almost slipped by him, blending in with the light breeze swirling outside, but he caught them. In one sentence, Hyunjin had the answers to every question that’d swarmed his brain since the week after his stabbing. There was no hesitation in his actions, cupping your left cheek in his hand and turning your face towards him. The sun glistened in your eyes, highlighting the enchanting colour of your orbs, shadows danced lightly on your face. In that moment, he wanted you to know that you wouldn’t lose him, no matter what. His eyes fluttered shut as his head dipped down, fulfilling the dream he’d chased since you first saved him. Your lips pressed together in a warm embrace, melting together as if they were made for each other. His tongue swiped at your lower lip, asking for access that you granted. As the sun rays of gold heated your skin and framed your soul, Hyunjin swore he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

#stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids blurbs #stay kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin scenario #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin angst #hyunjin scenario #hyunjin fluff #skz #kpop #kpop angst #kpop scenario #kpop fluff #i'm going mia again

[illfoandillfie]

Curtains Part 6

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Roger F!Reader

Summery: Exams, a car show, and an entirely too long wait.

Warnings: Smut (18+), nothing overly kinky, a little bit of a dom/sub dynamic, dom!rog, some light degradation, a little breast/nipple play,fingering, honestly quite tame considering the shit these two normally get up to lmao

Words: 7129 

A/N:  Oh my god its finally here. The last chapter. I am so sorry it's taken so long but it's been super busy around home and whenever I did get a chance to write I got very worried I was going to balls it up and ruin the whole story lmao. Anyway, I've really loved writing this series and these characters and I hope you enjoy the last part!

Also the British International Motor Show was a real thing that really was held at the Olympia. And Roger did eventually own a Ferrari and a Mercedes, although as far as I know not a Rolls Royce (that was Freddie’s).

Taglist:  @laedymoon  @dtfrogertaylor   @ezmina98  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor  @hannafuckingsucks  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie

@bohemiansweede @rogershoe  @lnnuend0  @funitrog  @moonlit-wilde​

The exams hit you hard. Most nights were spent at the library, staying as late as possible before you dragged yourself home and collapsed on your bed, the morning alarm always coming too soon to start the whole thing over again. The biggest downside of the routine was how little you’d been able to see Roger since it started. When you had managed to catch him he looked as tired and stressed as you felt, neither of you capable of talking for too long before one of you yawned or remembered you were meant to be revising. It filled what little space in your brain that wasn’t already full of anxiety about exams with anxiety about your relationship. You still weren’t entirely sure how solid things with Roger were. They were certainly at a better, more normal, place after your two dates and a not-quite-a-date at the markets. Freddie had spent the entire first half hour you were there eyeing you suspiciously, as if you were going to bolt suddenly or tell him off. He stopped eventually though and you’d had a lovely day, helping to sell a few items when you weren’t wandering around with Roger looking at other stalls. But everything still felt so new and uncertain, especially after the rocky start you’d had, which left you not entirely positive you were officially a couple, and now you couldn’t help worry that the forced distance would make Roger lose interest in you or set you back a few steps after all the progress you’d managed. It didn’t help that you were on edge from not getting laid recently. The last time had been an age ago, in the backseat of Roger’s car. You would have slept with him again at the markets, or more likely after you’d gone home, except your period had started the day before and you couldn’t bring yourself to suggest having sex like that. So, since then you’d been on forced celibacy with only the end of exams to look forward to. Sure, you could have masturbated but between the hours spent sitting the exams and the hours spent cramming for them, you never seemed to find time for it. It all added up to a rather unpleasant desire crushed beneath a lack of sleep and a constant voice in the back of your head telling you that you were fucking something up. Unhelpful for cultivating a good mood or an opportunity to convince Roger to come over for a quickie. In fact, you barely saw him until the day after his final exam.

Feeling slightly better rested since you were free from needing to regurgitate months of class notes, you walked up next door’s driveway and knocked on Roger’s door. “Y/N, what a pleasant surprise, come on in,” Freddie said as he opened the door, “all done then? Exams I mean,” “Yes, thank god. You?” “Yeah, I finished earlier in the week. Never been more relieved in my life, although the day Rog finished was a close second,” he led you through the cluttered living room, your eyes slipping from the old, worn couch to the record player by the phone, into the kitchen where Roger stood, a bowl of cereal in his hands, eyes out of focus as he stared off into space, “Rog, wake up darling, the girl you’ve been whining about is here to see you.” Roger blinked, tired eyes falling to you and pulling a smile onto his face, “Y/N,” “Hey Rog,” He hastily put down the bowl and pulled you into a hug. You sighed into him, mind already more at ease than it had been when you arrived. “How were your exams?” He asked when he finally let you go. “Oh y’know, okay I guess. Probably failed one of them but I’m beyond caring right now, you?” “Yeah, yeah, all good I think. I’m just glad to be able to sleep normally again. Kept having this dream about turning up to an exam naked and then realising it was the wrong subject anyway.” “Jesus, Rog, if you’re going to sit here dissecting your dreams again I’m going to have to leave.” “You call yourself my friend,” “And aren’t you lucky for it. Just remember to wash out your bowl this time,” Freddie grabbed the cup of tea he’d been making and exited with a wave that you returned.  “Was that because of me? Does he still not like me?” “He likes you fine, I promise,” Roger grabbed your hand and led you out to the living room, “I’ve just been driving him nuts these last few days.” He dropped onto the couch with a creak and pulled you down onto his lap. “Nuts how?” “Oh y’know, exam stuff mostly. Weird little rituals I started doing to make sure I passed, like, um, I had to wear a particular pair of shoes to every exam, my sparkly silver ones, otherwise I was convinced I would fail. Nearly had a breakdown when I couldn’t find them one morning. Stuff like that.” “Would the other stuff be related to his girl you’ve been whining about comment?” “Maybe,” Roger looked away, as if slightly embarrassed to admit it, “I might have kept bugging him with questions about whether he’d seen you around. He went right off at me the other night, told me to pull my head in and just go see you but it was one in the morning so,” he shrugged as he trailed off, still focused on the other side of the room. “You really thought about me that much?” “Yeah, course,” he finally looked at your properly, “I missed… hanging out with you,” “Me too,” you smiled shyly, trying to work out if hanging out was a good sign or not. You decided to continue with the plan that had brought you to his door that morning, just in case, “But, if you’re up for it, I have an idea of something we could do tomorrow.” “Oh yeah? Does it involve making out a lot?” “I guess it could,” “Consider me there,” You laughed as he took hold of your chin and pulled you into a kiss. Maybe it was a good sign after all.

If Roger hadn’t broken off the kiss to yawn three different times, apologising after each one, you would have been hard pressed not to end up in his bed. He wasn’t quite as worked up as you were, admitting he’d developed the habit of wanking on the morning of every exam he had, but he was still eager for more than just making out, encouraging you to roll your hips and grind against him. But he was clearly too exhausted. “Where’re you going?” he asked as you wriggled off his lap and stood up. “You’re dead on your feet Rog, you should go catch up on some sleep,” “I’m not, come on come ba-“ he was cut off by another yawn. “See?” “Okay, fine. Maybe you have a point. But you don’t have to leave, you could come nap with me and then when I wake up in a couple of hours we can continue this, but tucked up in bed.” You laughed, “Nice try, Rog, but I’m gonna go home, let you rest properly. We’ll have all of tomorrow though. I’ll come by at tenish okay?” “Tenish it is. Can you give me a hint about what you have planned?” “No but I promise you’ll enjoy it.” “That could be anything,” he said as he walked you to the door, tilting his head and resting it against the frame. “Exactly. Don’t want to spoil it. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you made to leave but Roger caught your hand and pulled you back against him, leaving you slightly breathless, lips tingling with the kiss. “One for the road,” he shrugged, trying not to grin too much. “Go get some rest Rog,” you laughed, “Oh! And wear comfortable walking shoes tomorrow,” “Walking? That doesn’t sound like making out.”

You only had to knock once the next morning before Roger was opening the door, looking excited and better rested, though there were still heavy bags under his eyes. You’d seen the same bags on your own face but, thankfully, makeup covered a multitude of sins. “So, will you finally tell me where we’re going?” “No but if you don’t mind driving, I’ll instruct you where to go,” “You’re kidding me! You aren’t going to tell me anything but you want me to drive?” he narrowed his eyes and stared at you but you just smiled sweetly back until he relented, “good thing I like you so much or I woulda told you to shove it up your arse.” “You’re the best Rog,” you giggled, swooping in to kiss his cheek, “promise it’ll be worth it.” “Yeah yeah, get in the bloody car,” he shook his head but you caught him smiling to himself as he got into the drivers seat. “Your gonna need go left out of the driveway,” “I am, am I?” he said before following your instruction and turning left. You directed him there with only one minor detour when Roger managed to get stuck in the wrong lane and missed his turn. A few streets away from your destination he saw a sign directing passers-by to visit the British International Motor Show, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, but he said nothing, just let you tell him where to go. You could tell he was getting more excited with each street you directed him down, trying not to get his hopes up as you seemed to creep closer to the show. The dam burst when you told him to pull up in the carpark of the Olympia. “No fucking way,” he said softly, trying to concentrate on not hitting any other cars as he pulled into a spot, even as his eyes darted around the crowd of people entering the venue, “You got us tickets to the motor show?” “Mmhmm,” you nodded, digging around in your bag for your pre-purchased tickets, “you mentioned on our last date that you were a bit of a rev head so I thought you might like it.” The way he looked at you made your whole body feel like it was infested with a swarm of butterflies. It was a look of barely contained glee and adoration that had you beaming right back at him. Once he was out of the car he hurried round to your side, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around in a circle as he squeezed you tight. “Christ, Y/N,” “I guess that means you like it?” you laughed as he put you back on solid ground. “Like it? This is the sweetest thing a girl as ever done for me. Might actually be the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. As if I needed more reasons to fall for you.” Your breath caught in your throat and the swarm under your skin went haywire but Roger barely seemed to realise what he said, too excited and impatient to see the show. He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the entrance.

Most of the day was spent wandering around the show, Roger almost bouncing from one car to the next. There were all sorts to see, some brand new and unveiled that morning, some the kind your parents had driven around in as teenagers. There were more economic models, aimed at families or young adults looking for their first car and some were high end, luxury models with sleek designs and shiny finishes. Those were the sort that caught Roger’s eye most, never mind the outrageous prices you couldn’t even dream of affording. It was while standing in front of one of them, a gorgeous black Rolls-Royce from the mid-60s, that you nudged Roger with your elbow. “Y’know how when I first saw your Morris I said it wasn’t the type of car I imagined you in?” “Yeah,” “This is the sort of car I was picturing.” “Really? I’ve always loved a Rolls. Them and Ferraris. As a kid I used to have pictures of them ripped out of magazines and stuck up on my bedroom walls. Well, them and about a hundred other cars,” he chuckled at the memory and then fell silent for a bit, lost in thought, absentmindedly squeezing your hand. You were about to ask what he was thinking when he spoke again. “One day I’m going to own one.” “Are you now?” “Yup. One day Queen’s gonna hit it real fucking big. I’m not just saying that either, I mean it. We’ve really fucking got something the four of us, and one day we’ll have the number one song in the country and sell so many albums I’ll be able to buy one of each, a Rolls and a Ferrari. Maybe a Mercedes too. And I’ll take you out in them, wherever you want to go. We could drive down the coast, spend the weekend in our beach house. Or maybe out to the countryside, nice and peaceful and quiet. And if we stay at home I’ll take you out shopping. We’ll go to all the high-end stores and buy everything we want. Shoes and jewels and fur coats and everything." You leaned your head on his shoulder as he spoke, “That sounds wonderful,” “You haven’t heard the best part though,” “Oh?” He dropped his head down, lowering his voice so only you could hear him, “Haven’t even mentioned how I’ll fuck you in the change rooms of all those fancy shops. A hand over your mouth to keep you quiet because we both know how loud you get.” It was a mark of how long it had been that you began panting just from feeling his breath against your ear, “Looks like this car has enough room in the backseat. Just in case the shops are closed.” He stood up straight again, laughing, “Maybe we’ll sneak in there later. Shame I’m not rich already, could’ve just paid off the security so he’d give us a few moments alone with the car.” You knew he was joking about sneaking into the car but it didn’t help you calm down at all. Roger must have sensed your need, had probably been able to feel it seeping out of your skin, because he spent the rest of the day teasing you with small touches and whispered comments. He may have given up the teasing and just fucked you except that the number of people and the amount of security hired kept you from finding anywhere even remotely appropriate. The bathrooms were too crowded, extra portaloos hired and placed around the side of the building to accommodate everyone, and the back of the building faced the carpark and had a constant stream of people passing by or standing around directing traffic and loiterers. You considered suggesting the backseat of his car again but your head and thighs ached at the thought. After a final quick look around inside you decided to call it a day and head home where there was plenty of space and a big comfortable bed waiting.

By the time you arrived home it was early evening, your feet sore despite wearing your most comfortable pair of shoes. Roger’s stomach grumbled as he walked you to your front door, a loud reminder that neither of you had eaten more than a few snacks vendors had been selling at the show. “I had so much fun today,” he said, valiantly ignoring his stomach, “like an unbelievable amount of fun.” “Me too. Didn’t realise a car show could be quite that good,” you teased, “You wanna come in? Keep the fun going? We could get dinner, watch some TV,” “You’ve spent all day with me, sure you aren’t sick of me yet?” “Course not. Come on you sound like your starving and I’ve got a coupon for pizza stuck to my fridge,” “Well who am I to say no to that?” he said as he followed you inside, “where’s the coupon, I’ll call the order in.” “You don’t have to do that,” “No, no, let me. Least I can do to thank you for today. Any preferences?” “Uh, pepperoni if you don’t mind,” you called from the kitchen, returning with the coupon and handing it to Roger. “I definitely don’t mind, pepperoni is obviously the best,” Roger laughed and picked up the phone, as you quickly ducked into your room and made sure it was tidy. He followed you when he was done, peering into the living room and the kitchen as he searched for you. “Don’t have to clean up on my account,” You jumped a little at the sound of his voice behind you. “I’ve been in your room before, you’re much neater than me.” “Surprised you noticed the room enough to make that judgement,” “True, was always much more interested in you and how little you were wearing,” “Exactly,” you said, trying not to let on how fast your heart was racing at just the mention of the previous nights you’d spent together. “But I’m very messy,” Roger shot you a grin as he walked over to your desk, fingers brushing lightly over a few of the knickknacks you kept there before he moved to your modest bookshelf. You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself as you watched him investigate your belongings, perching on the end of your bed, hoping he liked what he found. For the most part he just brushed his fingers lightly over your belongings, smiling softly and occasionally pausing to make a comment. He picked up the candle from your desk to smell it, complementing the scent as he put it back in its place. A few of the books on your shelf were pulled off and held up as he asked your opinions of them. He found a pair of your sunglasses and pushed them into his own face, checking himself out in your mirror before taking them off again, and then turned his attention to your record collection, spending much longer examining it than anything else. When he was done shuffling through the stack, making impressed hums when he found ones he particularly liked, he turned back to you. “Well I’m sorry to say but you have fantastic taste in music and I really have no other choice but to steal half of them,” “Is that so?” you asked, releasing a relieved breath, “Doesn’t seem fair,” “Well,” he walked the few steps towards where you still sat, leaning down until his lips were mere centimetres from yours, “it’s either that or you keep them and I fall madly in love with you.” The butterfly feeling returned, “Oh?” It was all you could manage to say. A loud knock from the front of the house interrupted you. “That’ll be the pizza,” you said quietly, torn between answering the door and closing the space between you. The decision was made when Roger’s stomach growled again. He dropped a quick kiss to your lips and then stood up with a small sigh.

If it had been up to you the night would have been spent snuggled up on the couch, eating pizza, drinking wine, and goofing around, until you retired to the bedroom and let the street hear you screaming Roger’s name. And you were pretty sure Roger’s mind was running along the same tracks. The only obstruction to your plan was the lack of sleep you’d both been suffering from, causing both of you to nod off before you could move from the couch. You woke in the morning, the TV no longer playing the comedy it had been left on but a test pattern card with odd organ music behind it. You blinked the sleep from your eyes as you tried to remember why you were on the couch and not in your bed, the night coming back to you as you sat up and realised you’d been curled up with your head on Roger’s thigh. He woke with a start when you stood up to stretch and turn off the TV. “Y/N?” he voice was still thick with sleep, eyes bleary and hair all over the place as he lifted his head from what must have been an uncomfortable position. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. We fell asleep on the couch.” “Oh, right,” “You can go back to sleep if you want,” “Nah, ‘m up now. Bathroom?” “Just through that doorway over there.” Roger nodded his thanks as he yawned and, rubbing his eyes, headed off. You grabbed the last of the, now cold, pizza and the wine glasses and followed him towards the kitchen, dropping the leftovers on the bench before turning to stick the kettle on. When he returned to the kitchen he looked marginally more alert, hair not quite the bird’s nest it had been when he woke. He dropped a kiss to your temple. “D’you want breakfast?” you asked, peering into the fridge, “I can do eggs on toast.” “Only if it’s no trouble,” “Not at all,” you grabbed the carton of eggs and the butter before you closed the fridge, “if you make the tea.” “I can do tea. Make a pretty good cuppa if I do say so myself.” “So you’re a tea connoisseur now?” “Never said that, where do your mugs live?” “Cupboard on the left,” “Ah ha,” there was a tinkling as he pulled out two, “All I’m saying is I’m good at making tea.” “Rog it’s adding boiling water to bagged leaves, not sure you can be bad at it,” “Well tell that to John. He’s a fantastic bassist but Jesus every cuppa he’s ever made me has tasted like shit.” You laughed, glancing away from the stovetop to watch Roger move about your kitchen like he belonged there. True, that might have been to do with how similar your kitchen was to his, most of the student accommodation in the area having the same basic layout, but it was nice all the same. “How do you take it?” “Uh,” your first thought was something entirely too inappropriate for so early in the morning, “dash of milk, two sugars,” “Coming right up.”

“So,” you said, dragging the word out as you brought your plates down to the table, Roger already there with the mugs of tea. “So, what?” Roger imitated your lengthened word, an amused lilt to his voice. “Dunno, you got any plans for today?” “Meeting the boys a bit later, band stuff. Might try and squeeze in a nap at some point. No offence but your couch isn’t overly comfortable to sleep on, although the cute girl using me as a pillow did help,” You giggled as he nudged your foot with his, it really was unfair how attractive he looked even when ruffled from a night on the couch. “What about you? Any plans?” “Oh, uhhh,” you didn’t have anything specific but couldn’t very well tell Roger you’d kept the day open in case he’d wanted to stay in bed with you for the better part of it, “Think my friends said something about going out for coffee, so I’ll see if they’re still keen for it.” “Oh yeah? Do these friends know about me?” “They know I’ve kind of had a thing going on and they know I was avoiding a particular guy for a while, but I haven’t, like, actually told them about you yet. Wanted to wait until I knew we were going to be okay, y’know?” “Yeah, I get that.” There was a moment of almost silence, the only sounds those of your knives and forks scraping across your plates. Your brain was suddenly much louder than it had been a second before, full of thoughts about whether or not you should tell your friends about Roger when you saw them, nerves about theoretically introducing them to him and then, oh god, introducing him to your family, having to meet his, all the stuff that a proper relationship would mean, all the stuff you’d been trying to run from when you’d cancelled that date. But there wasn’t really any way to go back now without everyone getting even more hurt than last time, he’d twice now said he was falling for you and, though you hadn’t vocalised it, you thought maybe you were falling for him too. But of all the thoughts jumbled in your head, the loudest by far was the realisation you’d be going another day without getting laid. It was torture. You’d got so close last night and god you wanted it so much. You had a brief vision of sweeping everything off the table, plates and cutlery hitting the floor, and Roger instantly pushing down your pants and lifting you onto the clear surface, his fingers slipping into your underwear and - Roger broke the silence and pulled you from the fantasy, “If you wanted you could come over tonight. I’ll make you dinner,” You shook your head to clear it, “really? “Yeah, really. I’ll even let you rummage through all my junk like I went through yours,” “Sounds fun, I’ll be there,” “Cool, uh, I think I should get home around three-thirty, so any time after that.”

Roger helped you tidy up the dishes before he left, another lingering kiss your souvenir, in addition to the desperate need to get off. You attempted to kill some time doing just that, but nothing seemed to be enough. It wasn’t Roger. You wanted Roger. And as lovely and terrifying a sentiment as that was, it did mean you had to go to meet your friends completely worked up and wet. When you told Roger later, sleepily blurting it out while curled up in his arms that night, he chuckled and, though it was dark, you could tell he was grinning. The same grin he’d been wearing when you knocked on his door that afternoon. “Is Freddie here?” you asked as he led you towards the couch. “No, just us. I’ve kicked the others out for the night. Freddie’ll end up staying with Bri or John, they were still arguing about it when I left them.” “Arguing?” you fell into the seat beside Roger, toeing off your shoes and curling your legs up under you, angling your body to face where he was leaning against the arm of the couch, one leg bent in front of him, one touching the floor. “Something about John’s girlfriend, I think, or maybe it was Brian’s roommate? I don’t know, I didn’t hang around to listen, they’ll sort it out,” he waved his hand dismissively, “But that means more food for us.” “So what are you making me then?” “Well, actually,” he glanced away, hand slipping into his shirt to rub his shoulder, “was thinking I’d order some takeout. There’s really nothing to cook with in the fridge and I’m a terrible chef anyway. I could offer you toast but the chance of it being edible is about fifty fifty. But there’s the chippy a few streets away or, um, an alright curry place, whichever you prefer.” “Fish and chips sounds good. I’ve eaten nothing but cake and coffee today so anything savoury would be brilliant really.” “So your friends were free then? How’d it go?” “Yeah, really fun. You might have been mentioned once or twice,” “Only once or twice?” “Once or twice is practically unstoppable gushing for me. They’re both insisting on meeting you, by the way, so that’s something to look forward to I guess,” you scrunched your nose up in discomfort. “I’d love to meet them,” he said, taking your hand leaning towards you, “And you’ve got nothing to worry about, they’ll love me. I’m very loveable.” You let yourself relax as you laughed, Roger joining in as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers trailing down your jaw, kissing you softly.  

It should have come as no surprise that you’d end up making out within minutes of arriving. The weeks since you’d last slept together plus the unfulfilled tension from the previous night all boiled down to a neediness you couldn’t remember feeling with anyone else, the soft kiss fast becoming firmer as you found yourself underneath Roger, fingertips digging into his back. He was grinding against you rhythmically, your skirt pushed further up your thighs, trying to pull you tighter against him, breathing getting more ragged with each passing moment. It felt good but there were too many clothes in your way, you needed more. A whine fell from your lips unexpectedly. “Someone’s a bit desperate,” Roger said, tone vaguely mocking, giving you just a hint of the teasing control he usually showed you, “should we move this to my room?” “God yes,” He grinned and planted another kiss against your lips before he pushed himself to his feet, pulling you up by your hand, not letting go until you were standing in the doorway of his room. It was similar to your own room in that it faced the back yard, a big glass door leading outside. The biggest difference was the curtain, open to let the sun in but no doubt it actually existed. Roger dropped your hand to cross the room and you turned your attention to the rest of it, tempted to rummage through his belongings the way he’d examined yours. If you hadn’t been so worked up you would have but instead you stepped into the room and glanced around, killing time until Roger was back against you. It wasn’t neat but it wasn’t as messy as you’d been led to believe it would be and you wondered how long he’d spent tidying it. The bookshelf wasn’t full and yet not all the books were lined up, some of them stacked in uneven piles, some leaning against others, no discernible order to them, though you could spot a few titles you recognised from your own collection. His desk held a stack of textbooks and a few loose pages of handwritten notes, and you could easily imagine him hunched over as he studied, scribbling down things he recognised as important even if his tired eyes and brain couldn’t fully comprehend them. Your gaze had just fallen on the neatest part of the room, his collection of records all meticulously lined up and just begging to be rifled through, when a noise drew your attention. Roger checked the back door was locked and drew the curtain over it, blocking out the view of the back garden and the natural afternoon light. Your stomach did a flip. “We, uh, we’ve never had so much privacy,” you tried to make it sound like a joke, though you weren’t sure you succeeded, suddenly feeling too nervous to speak properly. “Yeah, s’pose that’s true,” he gave a small half shrug and took the few steps towards you, stopping just in front of you, “but that’s okay. We’ll make it work,” and then his lips were on yours, the rough neediness almost forgotten as he held your face, reassuringly rubbing his thumb over your jaw. It helped you relax again, stoking your desire though you couldn’t help thinking things would be vastly different with an empty house and closed curtains. Your fingers fell to his belt, blindly struggling to unbuckle it, but Roger grabbed your wrist. “Hey, there’s no rush, okay?” “I know but it’s been so long,” it wasn’t a lie, it had been far too long, but that wasn’t the only reason you wanted to speed things up. You didn’t mention that you were nervous about your dynamic changing with the privacy, worried it wouldn’t be as good if you weren’t being controlled or degraded or performing for someone. “So you won’t mind waiting a little longer then,” You whined as his lips brushed over your neck, his hands still holding your wrists, “Please, I need you,” “Patience, love. First time I’ve had my slut all to myself, can’t blame me for wanting to take my time.” Your breath hitched at the name and the casual way it was said, not expecting to hear it when you were so closed off from the world and he was being so deliberately, infuriatingly, slow. It made your head spin. He let your wrists go, moving his hands to your shirt and pulling it up over your head, fingers trailing softly down your sides to toy with the waistband of your skirt. “Good girl for wearing this, you’re learning.” The praise made you shiver but it was nothing compared to his touch. Every light brush of his fingers made you want him more, had you almost vibrating with need, but he refused to speed up or even touch you where you most wanted him. And you melted into it, hovering on the edge of begging, surprised at how easily he could play you but not really surprised at all. Yes, it was just you and Roger with no one to see or overhear, none of that tension you loved so much that came with the possibility of being walked in on or caught out. But you didn’t miss it.

Your hands once again slipped to his belt and this time he let you undo it, taking the chance to tug his own shirt off  as he kicked the discarded pants across the floor, before he slipped your skirt down your legs, kneeling as he did so, leaving a single big bruise on the inside of your thigh. He leaned back to admire the mark and you stepped out of the material pooled around your feet. For a fraction of a second you thought he was finally going to give you something real, his breath ghosting over the front of your underwear as he leaned towards you, still looking up at you, blue eyes glinting. “Hop on the bed, love,” He chuckled as he pushed himself to his feet, listening to you whine and curse even as you did exactly what he told you to. You didn’t stop complaining until his weight was over yours again, your legs trying to wrap around him and pull him against your throbbing cunt. He just held your legs down and laughed softly, “You’re still just a desperate slut aren’t you. Little bit pathetic how much you want me after a couple of weeks without. But no, you don’t get my cock that quickly. I told you I want to take my time.” “You want me too,” you whined, sounding nowhere near as convincing as you’d hoped, “I can feel how hard you are.” “Yes, I want you. Of course I do, love, been thinking about it since you came over the other morning.” Roger resumed the grinding he’d started out on the couch, dragging his cock along your folds, still too many layers between for you to be satisfied. It was torture, but no matter what you tried he wouldn’t give you more, “But there’s this little thing called delayed gratification, you might have heard of it.” “You’re such an arsehole,” you half whined, half laughed as he chuckled into your neck, doing his best to leave you with another mark. “Well, yeah. That’s not news. Maybe I’ll let you have my fingers though, since you have waited such a long time,” “Please, I need something, anything,” “Add ‘begs easily’ to the list of things I love about you,” he left a kiss against your neck and then shuffled backwards. He paused, glancing down to your underpants and then back to your chest. “What?” “You’re still wearing a bra. Can’t have that.” “Oh,” you giggled, “easily fixed,” you sat up and quickly unhooked the clasp behind your back, shrugging it from your shoulders and adding it to the clothing that littered the once clean floor. “Thank god for easy fixes,” Roger said softly, pushing his fingertips against your shoulder until you leaned back far enough for him to drag his tongue over one nipple. “Hey, you said fingers,” you whined. “You said anything,” he grinned back at you, “but I guess fingers could work too.” You hissed when he pinched your other nipple and pulled on it, gently biting on the first, “Rog, please,” He ignored you in favour of dipping his lips to the inside of one breast, sucking at the skin until another purple bruise formed.

Roger shuffled back further and you squirmed at the thought of finally, finally getting what you needed. Just the motion of him hooking his fingers into your underpants to pull them down had your stomach tightening with anticipation. As soon as they were free of your legs he held them up, “soaked,” was all he said before they too were discarded and he was settling into place between your legs. You could feel his warm breath against your pussy as he dragged a single finger between your folds, a whine escaping you as your frustration grew. And then the finger was slipping inside you, so easily it made Roger whine himself. “God you really are soaked. I was just teasing before but Jesus,” “M-more,” was all you could think to say, stuttering it out as you bucked your hips. “Patience, love,” he reminded you but added a second finger, pumping them into you slowly, still not enough. Your back arched as you tried to readjust your position so he’d hit the spots you knew he could but he just placed his other hand on your thigh, stroking you softly until you relaxed again. “Tell me what you want, love,” “More, please,” “More of the same? Just my fingers?” “N-no no,” “Then tell me,” “Your cock, please, want you to fuck me now,” the sentence devolved into a whine as he pulled his fingers from you, pausing to push off his underwear, and crawled back up the bed, hovering over you. Once again you tried to wrap your legs around him, arms around his neck to pull him closer, but this time he didn’t stop you. Instead Roger lined himself up and sunk into you, as easily as his fingers had, his hands slipping up to your sides. He dropped his mouth to your neck and then your jaw and then your lips as he slid his arms under your back to hold you tight. “My good, patient, girl. Fuck your cunt feels so good.” he said softly, quickly finding your lips again as he fucked you steadily. You whimpered at the praise, finally getting what you’d so badly wanted as you clawed at Roger’s back, making sure he wouldn’t pull away too far. Though he’d started off intentionally slowly, deliberately working you up before he’d even finished undressing you, now that he was finally inside you, finally where you both wanted him to be, he’d lost all of his methodical pace. His hands were on your back and then one was on your arse and then your breasts, unsure where he wanted to touch you most. He was kissing you passionately one moment and the next he was whispering filth into your ear, praise and degrading names alike, thoughts broken up by small hickeys sucked into your skin. The second it occurred to him that something might drive you wild he was doing it.

It didn’t take long for you to cum, so much pent-up desire coursing through your bloodstream that you fell over the edge easily when he hitched your leg higher on his hip. It changed the angle he was hitting you just enough to have him rub against your wall, a jolt running through you and stealing your breath. “So pretty when you cum, can you show me again?” You nodded, unsure you’d be able to form words if you tried. Small aftershocks were still making you whimper into Roger’s shoulder and yet you could feel the same tingly warmth building again already. “Oh,” the sharp sound escaped you when Roger’s thumb brushed over your clit, his breath hitching as you clenched around him, “Rog, god, ke- keep doing that,” He brushed your clit again and smiled as your head fell back, a low moan tumbling from you when he began rubbing it properly. All you could hear was rough uneven breaths, not sure they were yours or Roger’s, the sound dulled under your heart beating in your ears. And then suddenly you were there again, moans getting louder as you crept closer to the edge and fell over it. Roger’s eyes were squeezed shut as he thrust into you a few more times, extending the ecstasy you felt until he hit his own climax, coating your walls and gasping in your ear.

For a while neither of you moved, just lay there trying to clear your foggy minds. When he realised he was still laying on you, Roger carefully extracted himself and rolled onto his back, an arm stretched out, inviting you to cuddle up close. You did, humming lightly when he gently rubbed your arm. “So, was that good? Even with the closed curtains?” “Mmhmm, might go so far as to say unbelievably good.” “Any other adjectives you wanna throw out there? Mind-blowing maybe? Or Incredible? The best you’ve ever had?” When the giggles subsided, Roger continuing a little more seriously, “I really liked it too, y’know, having my girlfriend to myself and all.” You’d been expecting to feel anxious when the G word eventually got used. After all, it represented so much of what had made you nervous enough to run away, what still made you nervous about dating and what it might eventually lead to. But there wasn’t really any anxiety or worry when you actually heard it, maybe a small pang in your stomach but you barely noticed it. Instead you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat, “Girlfriend?” “Yeah,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “that okay?” You quickly flipped onto your front, bringing you face to face with Roger, “More than okay. Say it again?” “My girlfriend,” he grinned as he spoke and you felt an equally large smile stretch your own cheeks in response. “My boyfriend,” “Yeah, like the sound of that,” You kissed him hard, not quite believing how far you’d come since he’d first caught you masturbating or how much you liked being with him, dating him. “Y’know, I think we could fit in another round before we need to worry about dinner,” he traced his finger along your shoulder as if he were playing connect the dots with the hickeys he’d left you, “Two maybe. You always cum fast when I use you rough.”

#my writing #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #(lowkey have a couple ideas for blub/hc things maybe #)

[isthisthingeven0n]

time of need : s.s

this is pretty much exactly how I am currently feeling, minus the scotty to look after me. that, I am doing alone lmao 

and yes I am working through requests, I’ve actually gotten more done this weekend than I had anticipated. literally I have been in my bed, writing and then sleeping once it’s up. haven’t slept this much in weeks but in two days I’ve slept an insane amount. that’s what I get for being susceptible I guess. 

hope you enjoy - here is my masterlist so far and see you probably next weekend. 

Unable to move my body hangs on the edge of the bed, reaching over to the few tissues that remain sticking out of the box. As I pull on them a few fallout and I sigh before turning back to lying on my back. 

“Of all times to get sick.” I mumble to myself as I feel the tickle in my throat creep up, causing me to cough violently as the pain spreads through my chest leaving me exhausted after the minor coughing fit. 

The holidays were officially over, and after all of the time I’ve spent in bed relaxing now is not the time for it to continue. 

I’ve been avoiding the bug that has been making its rounds for weeks. I was determined to not catch it, that I would surpass the sneezing and coughing once again. However, my body had other things in mind and became the next victim just as I had started back at work. 

Sighing loudly I pick up my phone and catch a brief glimpse of my reflection. 

I have large bags under my eyes as I look utterly defeated by the exhaustion that sits on top of my chest, refusing to move. My nose is raw along with the crusting on my lips despite me putting lip balm on them every twenty minutes, nothing is of avail to this bug. 

Scrolling through endless feeds on apps I can feel the energy being drained from me as my eyes feel heavy as the seconds pass. “Scotty?” I weakly call out and start coughing after I raise my voice higher than a whisper. 

I put my phone back down on my bedside table as I shuffle back down under the covers, pulling my blankets higher around me as I close my eyes, patiently waiting until I wake up to talk to him. 

*

Slowly my eyes open to the soft sound of humming from beside me and the gentle touch of his fingertips trailing patterns into my forearm. “Hey, baby.” He mumbles before lying down opposite me, resting his hand on my waist beneath the covers. His icy hands slowly warming against my skin. 

“Hey,” I whisper before sniffing forcefully and groaning lightly as I pick up a tissue hidden beneath my chest and blowing my nose loudly. “sorry.” Mumbling I sigh quietly, hating him seeing me this way. 

He shakes his head to me before nudging closer. “You have no reason to be sorry, Y/n. You’re sick and I’m here to look after you. I mean, that’s kinda part of the relationship.” He says softly before moving stray hairs out of my face, allowing my heavy eyes to focus on his gentle green ones. 

“I don’t want you to get sick.” I weakly say as I feel myself aching the more I shuffle closer into him, the tiredness creeping back up my spine and rushing straight through my head as it remains covered by a thick fog. 

“I think we’re past that,” He jokes before moving some of the cushions between us to one side. “here.” He gently helps me move closer into him until I’m leaning against his chest, listening to the heart beating. 

“Can we get soup in a bit? I’ll close my eyes for ten minutes, okay?” I ask before looking up at him and a smile emerges from the ginger stubble lining his jaw and lips. 

“Whatever you need.” He mumbles before brushing my hair with his fingers delicately as I feel myself giving in once again to the need to sleep for a little while longer.

“Sorry if I snot on you.” I yawn and feel his chest rising and falling as he laughs against me. 

“Won’t be the first or last time,” He mutters as his hands slowly stop brushing my hair and rests on my shoulder, pulling me closer as I lose consciousness. 

#enjoying writing short little pieces currently #but my long pieces will be back #just right now i like short bursts of fluff #angst is always long #scotty sire #scotty sire imagine #scotty sire imagines #scotty sire writing #scotty sire fluff #scott sire #scott sire x reader #scott sire imagines #imagines #scott sire imagine #david dobrik #david dobrik imagines #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik x reader #david dobrik fluff #vlogsquad imagines #vlogsquad imagine #vlogsquad writing #vlog squad imagines #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad #vlogsquad #vlogsquad fluff #vlogsquad x reader #vlog squad x reader

[thepuckishrogue]

Dick Grayson x F!Reader in: The Curious Case of the Girl in the Library

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| Ao3 Version | GN!Reader Version | Batboys m.list || || Writing Blog ||

↠ Requested By: No one, twas a gift to a friend ↠ Reader Gender: Female ↠ Content Type: SFW ((but my blog’s 18+ so minors need to shoo)) ↠ CWs/TWs: None ↠ Prompt: She’s hiding behind the sofa. ↠ If you’re looking for a beta-ed work you have come to the wrong place, my friend lol. ↠ Total WC: 1.9k~

“Hm, well I suppose you could hide here. Behind the sofa,” he clarifies, patting the ornate cushioning that currently cradles him for further emphasis when you give him a confused look. Your confusion, however, soon gives way to an arch sort of glee that he frankly finds unacceptable as you coo out some nonsense about him being ‘sweet’. His eyes narrow dangerously at your tone. “Do not make that face at me, ____, I am not ‘sweet’. Know that I do this for myself, not you. The most expedient way to regain even a fraction of my peace is to humor you, and even knowing that this offer is still being made against my better judgement.” “Aww, and here I was thinking you had a heart,” you say on a sigh. This, as well as your accompanying pout, is met with a distinct lack of amusement. “Do you intend on standing there making quips until you are discovered, or will you take me up on my extremely generous offer. An offer whose expiration is steadily creeping closer, mind you.”

↠ When you and your lover decide to play an extreme version of hide and seek shenanigans ensue. Damian, unsurprisingly, is not impressed.

‼ Rewrites incoming ‼

It should first be noted that I am not posting new writing to this blog as I’ve got a nice, far better organized writing blog for that. The posts that will be rolling out over the next few days will be strictly rewrites. Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way…

I’m finally getting around to updating these things to reflect my current writing level/formatting—both of which is long overdue, tbh. Those old posts were ugly af, you all have my deepest apologies lmao. I’ll also be rolling out my GN!Reader takes as well, tho those are going on my writing blog, linked above.

It should also be said that there won’t be any M!Reader options this time around as the entries for this collection could’ve been GN from the start. In truth I would make the whole thing purely GN, but since they were initially written for a lady-type friend I feel it would be wrong to scrap the F!Reader version entirely. That said, there’re literally no major changes to the story aside from pronouns, so I do not see the point in further differentiation. However, if enough people request it I can make an M!Reader version, but again all it’ll do is turn she/they to he/him.

Also, also! Some things will disappear for a bit as I work on these updates, but worry not as they’ll still be up on my Ao3. Again, nothing’s getting deleted permanently, just updated and moved around. Until all that’s done some things may get lost in the shuffle, but they’ll be safe and sound on the Archive as I won’t be updating that until I’ve gotten everything done over here.

|| The Curious Case of the Girl in the Library

Damian looks up from the book he’s been reading with an arched brow. Under normal circumstances seeing a woman panting and frantic would give rise to his protective instincts, but the flush to your cheeks is a warm one and the glint in your eyes amused, if a bit pleading. It takes you far longer than it should to notice him and the Great Dane at his feet, but to your credit you do not allow your shock to register over much.

“I can only assume that you and Grayson are playing at yet another inane game?” he asks as he marks his page with a finger.

Your responding nod is a bit absent as your eyes dart about the breadth of the library. “Yeah. Hide and seek, extreme edition.”

“And what, pray tell, makes it ‘extreme’?”

“The uhhh… penalty round…”

You fluster visibly as you utter the words. He does not inquire further.

Though large, the room offers little in the way of concealment. The heavy velvet curtains are too obvious a spot while the statues are too narrow to hide anything from even the most cursory of glances; likewise the bookcases are hardly a viable option given their positioning and spacing, and the overly high legs of the oversized furniture render the pieces just as ineffective for your purposes. He points all of this out to you with a bland aplomb that leaves you huffing out your frustrations.

“Well that’s just great,” you mutter as you continue to search for harbor in vain. “I didn’t see him, or hear him, for that matter–”

“As well you shouldn’t,” the boy sniffs. While he may not possess the former assassin’s level of skill, Richard still spent the better part of his childhood and adult years under Father’s tutelage—if you actually had been able to detect him he’d be greatly remiss.

“Yeah, yeah—you’re all living shadows, I get it,” you continue on with a roll of your eyes. “What I’m trying to say is, even though I couldn’t sense him I know he was right on my ass, Dames. There’s no getting out of this room without getting caught, and I’m really not trying to lose this thing.”

Though he is thoroughly convinced that your competitive streak is going to get you in trouble someday he cannot help but to find it a bit winsome. Not that he’d ever tell you that. No, instead he chooses to offer you the help that you desperately need—an unexpected concession, but apparently he’s feeling generous this afternoon.

“Hm, well I suppose you could hide here. Behind the sofa,” he clarifies, patting the ornate cushioning that currently cradles him for further emphasis when you give him a confused look. Your confusion, however, soon gives way to an arch sort of glee that he frankly finds unacceptable as you coo out some nonsense about him being ‘sweet’.

His eyes narrow dangerously at your tone. “Do not make that face at me, ____, I am not ‘sweet’. Know that I do this for myself, not you. The most expedient way to regain even a fraction of my peace is to humor you, and even knowing that this offer is still being made against my better judgement.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking you had a heart,” you say on a sigh. This, as well as your accompanying pout, is met with a distinct lack of amusement.

“Do you intend on standing there making quips until you are discovered, or will you take me up on my extremely generous offer. An offer whose expiration is steadily creeping closer, mind you.”

He has barely finished the final sentence before you’re diving behind the sofa with a flurry of no’s followed by hasty word of thanks. The sudden movement is enough to pull his companion from his slumber. Startled, Titus’ woofs loudly as his head whips from you to his master and back again, and it’s only his familiarity with you that keeps him from doing more. A few good scratches behind his pointed ears from the boy is enough to see him calmed, though your continued maneuvering does have him sniffing at you with a weary sort of curiosity. When you finally settle down behind him he too relaxes in full, allowing sleep to once again claim him with a swiftness that only the most trusting of creatures can manage.

It takes well over twenty seconds after that for your breaths to even out into something less obvious than the laughter-laced huffs they start out as—hardly an acceptable showing, but to be expected given the circumstances, the vigilante supposes. In yet another uncharacteristic display of unspoken solidarity he in turn syncs his own breathing with yours, thusly lowering your chances of detection by at least another twenty percent or so.

The space returns to the peaceful lull it had been in prior to your entry, though this isn’t to last—can never last when the humanoid Labrador that is his brother is around. The eldest Wayne child bounds though the door with a shout of your name followed by a breathless laugh. Damian can only assume that said breathlessness is due to the joy that he always seems to exude when he so much as thinks of you and not because of any legitimate strain on his part.

“That was pretty sneaky, babe,” he continues on as he steps more fully into the space, “using the hidden passages like that. But now you’ve cornered yourse– Oh! Heya, Dami.”

“It took you approximately twelve seconds to notice my presence, Grayson. Had I been an assassin out for your head you would already be dead.”

“Then I guess it’s good for me that you’re outta the game, huh?”

“Indeed.”

Richard chuckles a bit at that, his fingers flexing as if they long to ruffle the loose wave of his little brother’s hair, though both distance and a rather pointed glare keeps him from doing so. Still, the energy that ever courses through his veins demands movement and so he rises onto the balls of his feet and bounces in place a few times—eyes casually scanning the whole of the room all the while—before he rounds on Damian with a beaming smile.

“Catching up on your reading, huh? What’re you– Ah, a le Carré, eh? Wouldn’t be my first choice to unwind with, but ya like what ya like,” he concedes with a shrug. “I’m just glad to see you actually relaxing for once.”

The younger male finds himself bristling at the statement, just a bit, but a voice that sounds a lot like Pennyworth’s reminds him that not every comment is bait to be risen to. Still, “I take exception to your inference, Grayson—I relax when I deem it to be necessary.”

“Yeah, I know you do, littlest of bros. I just wish that you ‘deemed it to be necessary’ more often. You’re only young once, yanno? You gotta use that free pass for stupidity while ya still got it.”

“If you lot are anything to go by it shall not be expiring for a long while yet.”

Richard’s grin is impish from where he’s currently scrambling up the side of one of the bookcases. “Well, you ain’t wrong…”

Though he can assume his brother’s ultimate goal, the way he’s going about finding you leaves Damian utterly confused. Does he really think you to be atop the thing? Or is he simply trying to gain the advantage via a more advantageous vantage point? In any event he decides to use his genuine confusion to his personal benefit when he inquires as to just what it is that Richard is doing.

“Huh? Oh, I’m just looking for my darling girlfriend,” he replies as he descends to the floor once more in a controlled fall. “She uhh, she wouldn’t happen to be in here, would she?”

“Please refrain from involving me in your childish games, Grayson.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes’.”

Hating the idea of anyone being able to read him so easily the boy is quick to bury his face in the pages of his book once again with a dismissive click of his tongue. Though his eyes remain glued to the lines of print before him, his focus is zeroed in on Grayson’s every movement, but even with his sensory intake being reduced to what he can glean from auditory stimuli and his peripheral vision this is hardly a feat. The man bounces around from window to window whipping back curtains with equal amounts of flair and abandon; an overly dramatic “Is sheee… here!” accompanies every flap of fabric, much to his brother’s annoyance and his girlfriend’s growing amusement.

Keep it together, Damian silently pleads when a particularly loud giggle escapes from the confines of your hiding spot. Grayson is in the middle of yet another exclamation so it more than likely goes unheard, but his younger coughs and clears his throat anyhow. His eyes immediately pinch in contemplation as he wonders why he feels the need to cover for you, it’s not as if he stands to gain anything from aiding you—in fact he would be better off if you were found sooner. A swifter detection means a swifter return to the quiet he so craves.

He isn’t quite sure how he has managed to become so heavily invested in your victory, but a brief bit of introspection has him writing it off to the quite charm that you wield seemingly without thought or effort. Sure, you have the capacity to annoy him to no end, but there is no denying that there is something magnetizing about you. What’s more, you’re one of the kindest people he has ever had the privilege of knowing despite life giving you ample reasons not to be. It’s so easy to see exactly what it is that draws Richard’s bleeding heart to the tenderness of your own. Though he may have made some questionable decisions with his previous romantic partners, Damian is sure that what the two of you have is made to endure.

Of course he gives voice to none of this, choosing instead to level his brother with a disgruntled look. “If you’re quite finished kicking up several weeks’ worth of dust…?”

“Alright, alright,” said with hands raised in concession. “Enjoy your book, baby feathers, I’m out.”

Though the use of the infuriatingly infantile nickname leaves Damian seriously contemplating testing his brother’s reflexes via a launched international spy thriller, he abstains if only to keep eyes off of him. With your impending (and shared) victory so close at hand, a vicious little smile plays along the corners of his mouth. Your pursuer is nearly out the door, just a few more feet and he’ll have retreated into the hall once more–

Pfft-hah!

Why?? he silently laments. There’s no reason for the sudden burst of mirth that he can see. Grayson was leaving, you had won.

Even muffled there is no denying the distinct cadence of your laugh and your lover’s eyes narrow as he looks towards the sound’s source. “She’s hiding behind the sofa.”

His statement brokers no response, but that does not mean that he will not receive one.

“No.”

Giggle-snort.

…Damn.

“Ha! I knew it!”

Well, Damian muses as he watches his brother toss the giggling mess of a human over his shoulder, it cannot be said that I did not try…

A/n: Not me losing every round of hide and seek I’ve ever played because I am a giggly bitch lmao. Anyways! Looking back over this now I realize that this touches on the relationship between Reader and Damian more than it does ReaderxDick, but whatever, it’s fine lmao. If you’re looking for something actually centered around that relationship check out the stories linked below (said links will take you to my writing blog).

The Penalty Round || The spicy sequel to this fic

↠ Paring: Reader x Dick Grayson ↠ Reader Gender: F, GN, and M!Reader options available ↠ Content Type: Some NSFW foolishness ↠ CWs/TWs: There’s nothing too out there, but still make sure to peep the in story note for the deets ↠ Summary: Pretty much what you think it is lmao. Tbh this was just an excuse for me to sate my thirst for this pretty bird boy. ↠ Total WC: Roughly 3k

💕 Links: F!Reader (Ao3) || GN!Reader (Ao3) || M!Reader (Ao3)

12 Days of Batmas || A.K.A. The 2020 Christmas Event that has still yet to end lmao

↠ Paring: Reader x the Batboys (individually, naturally) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: Silly Christmas-themed fluff for the most part, tho it does get heavy/angst-y at times because I love the ~drama~ of it all ↠ CWs/TWs: Any warnings can be found before their respective fills ↠ Summary: P. much what it says on the tin. The entries are a mixture of hcs and ficlets (more often than not there’s both. ↠ Total WC: Varies by fill, but they usually don’t exceed 3k

💕 Links: Tumblr || Ao3

From the Batboys, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

↠ Paring: Reader x the Batboys (individually, naturally) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: Sweet Love Day fluff ↠ CWs/TWs: None ↠ Summary: Once again it’s exactly what it sounds like, so cute/heartfelt letters from the boys to their sweethearts. ↠ Total WC: Between 500 and 1k

💕 Links: Tumblr || Ao3

© thepuckishrogue/TheViperQueen, 2018-2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#Dick Grayson x Reader #Reader Insert #aspiratinganxiety #((Immy does fan fiction: the Batboys)) #This post has been edited for quality assurance.