#he’s so cute I’m gonna drink cement | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiwisol · 2 years

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the art of secrets — lhc

pairing: lee haechan x reader genre: best friend’s brother, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, fluff, angst summary: after messing around with haechan too much for your own good, the secrets start to build up between the two of you—and not just with his sister. wc: 11.2k warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, slightly suggestive, some dirty jokes courtesy of hyuck, arguing ? kind of

𖥻 01 - THE FIRST SECRET

No matter the situation, Haechan always found a way to be obnoxious.

“Hey, be quiet! You’re gonna wake your sister up.”

Haechan smiled into the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, the material of your t-shirt falling around his hands as they rested on your waist. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, squeezing your sides. “C’mon, let her wake up.”

You shook your head. “You’re crazy, Haechan. Jiyoon would freak if she saw me in here.” You frowned, running your hands up the back of his neck to weave your fingers in his hair.

“Nope, she’d love to have you as a sister-in-law.”

Tugging at his brown strands softly, you decided to ignore the implications of the word sister-in-law. “Yeah, I don’t think so. In case you forgot, we’re having a sleepover.” You pecked him on the cheek. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

He rested his hands on your lower back. “You’re still sleeping over, just not in her room,” he quipped.

He smiled at your annoyed expression, his fingers rubbing circles into your skin. You pressed a kiss to his swollen, heart-shaped lips and pushed him onto the bed by his shoulders, his upper body landing on the charcoal-colored duvet with a soft thud. Haechan reveled in your position, the light of the TV to the right of his room giving your face and body a soft, almost angelic glow.

Although he’d never admit it, he enjoyed this more than anything you two planned on doing that night. You were otherworldly, and he easily preferred the small sounds that came out of your mouth when he kissed you just right over his favorite playlist.

Haechan knew you inside and out, and he studied you like you were a textbook and he had an exam the next day. Of course, these feelings were a bit too much for someone he was only supposed to mess around with—no strings attached, of course.

An unknown feeling began twisting his gut, and he tried pushing it away as he ran his hand up the side of your torso. His eyes followed the material as he hiked your shirt up until it bunched up under your chest. “Cute shirt you have on. Jiyoon didn’t mention it?” he questioned, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and letting your top fall back down.

You shook your head, your fingers playing with the drawstrings of his plaid pajama pants. “Nope. You’re lucky Renjun has the same one, I said I got it from him.”

He ran his thumb across your bottom lip and sighed quietly. His chocolatey eyes held a dazed look, and your stomach fluttered at his expression. “Such a great liar,” he murmured.

You leaned into his palm, offering him a small smile in the dim room. “I learned from the best.”

𖥻 02 - HAECHAN: PUBLIC ENEMY #1

Jiyoon gripped the back of her chair, her knuckles turning white from the sheer force being used as she dragged it back on the cement. She sat down with a huff and banged her thermo onto the table so hard you thought it’d break, making Renjun flinch upon the impact. You eyed her as she tore away the wrapper of her croissant, biting into the soft bread like it was the head of her enemy.

You exchanged a look of confusion with Renjun, making eyes at each other to figure out whose job it would be to ask what was wrong. After one final glare from you, the raven-haired boy let out a sigh and turned to Jiyoon, “Ji, what’s up?”

She swallowed the last bit of pastry in her mouth, glossy lips formed into a pout. “I was gonna use the car today to meet up with Yerim, that cute girl from my Greek Mythology class, after school.” She paused to rip a piece of the croissant angrily. “But Donghyuck’s annoying ass called dibs on the fucking car.”

Renjun knocked his knee into yours and you winced in pain, rubbing your hand over the spot to try and soothe it. You shot him a dirty look, grateful Jiyoon was busy sulking at her breakfast while she mulled over her lost date with Yerim.

“You even used his legal name, must be serious,” you tried to joke. Your best friend crossed his arms over his chest and stared at you expectantly. “Maybe he has something important to do?” The corners of your lips pulled up in a half-hearted smile, trying to convince everyone including yourself.

Jiyoon shook her head. “He didn’t tell me, which was so weird because he tells me everything,” she hummed. Your face heated up at what she said, and Renjun tried to discreetly swat at your hands when you began to pick at your cuticles.

“It sucks, but whatever. I have to go break the news to Yerim,” she sighed, balling up the wrapper of her breakfast and grabbing her bag from the floor. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” Waving goodbye, she blew a kiss to you and Renjun.

“Maybe he has something important to do,” he mocked you in a high-pitched voice once Jiyoon was out of earshot. “Sure, of course, except the only thing he’s doing is you!”

You gasped, smacking his arm so hard it stung your palm.

“And he tells her everything, how sweet,” he sneered, pushing your shoulder. “I hate knowing about you two! This is the longest I’ve ever kept a secret from Ji.”

You let out a groan and threw your head back, the feeling of guilt making your chest tight. “I know,” you mumbled, “but I’m scared to say something.”

“If you were actually scared, you wouldn’t have done it,” he pointed out. His words should have stung, but you knew he was right. The feelings of fear and guilt weren’t enough to drive you away from Haechan. “Y’know, I have a feeling that if you came clean, she wouldn’t even be angry.”

“You think?”

“Possibly. She loves Haechan, she loves you, that’s double the love.” He shrugged. “And I think it’ll go past that childish little friends with benefits stage soon enough.”

He loudly slurped on his almost-empty iced coffee with an air of nonchalance, ignoring the look of confusion on your face as he shook the ice around in the plastic cup. “What do you mean?”

“I just know things.” He smiled, pulling the straw from his lips. “My class starts at ten, so I gotta go. Think about talking to Ji, okay?”

“For sure.” You nodded. “I’ll tell her eventually.”

𖥻 03 - HELIOS IN A CAR

“You messed up her date with Yerim today, you know.”

Haechan dragged his pointer finger up and down your arm, rolling his eyes at your words. “Oh please, it wasn't even a date. She’s too scared to admit her feelings.”

“Admitting your feelings isn’t easy, Haechan,” you scolded him. “You could’ve let her take the car for tonight.”

“And then we would have missed out on this,” he mumbled, eyeing your figure. You were pressed against his chest, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead caused by the humidity outside glistened underneath the overhead light of the backseat. He thought you looked precious with your cheek half smushed against him. “I think it was fun.”

And, in all honesty, it was. He had taken you out to a new restaurant near campus, paying the bill before you could even take your credit card out and buying you ice cream (double scoop, you felt very spoiled) afterwards. As much as you enjoyed it, it felt far too domestic for your current relationship status—if you could even call it that.

You’d dismissed it as two friends hanging out, but his lingering hands and lips felt too close for comfort. Renjun’s words from earlier in the day hung around in your subconscious; you’d always heard about situations like yours turning into full-fledged relationships or going downhill so quickly that they never spoke again, and the latter scared you too much to think about. Not to mention that going back to being just friends seemed too awkward for you, which made the thought of acting like Haechan hadn’t seen and felt every part of you too embarrassing to dwell on.

He noticed your silence, a slight crease between your brows telling him you were thinking too much for your own good.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I just have a ton of homework,” you lied, creating a bit of space between the two of you.

“It’s only Friday, you have the whole weekend,” he said. “Live a little.” Haechan shoved your shoulder playfully, a smirk adorning his lips.

You snorted, “I think I’ve been living a lot, Haechan.”

“Don’t call me by my name,” he grumbled, sitting upright.

“And what should I call you then?”

His eyes became downcast, a soft, pink blush dusting his cheeks. “Nevermind. Just… don't worry about your homework, okay? Enjoy this.”

You nodded silently, staring out the windshield and at the small boats that seemed to float on the lake like toys in a bathtub. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue on both the car and Haechan.

He looked ethereal, the setting sun lighting up his brown hair in small flames. His dark eyes were lit up a hazelnut color, and the moles that littered his face looked like they were small stars on the detailed canvas that was Lee Haechan. The rays of light kissed his honeyed skin so delicately, you thought he could rival Helios with the way the sun adorned him.

Only he could make something as simple as sitting in a car feel so meaningful. The mere sight of him made your heart race. You felt warmth wash over your body at the thought of him being yours—even if it was just for a moment, and through the childish label of friends with benefits.

It felt like your chest was bursting with happiness—along with an underlying feeling of dread.

When he met your focused gaze, giving you an award-winning smile with those perfect teeth and supple lips that made your stomach flip, you could already hear Renjun saying I told you so in your ear.

𖥻 04 - PILOT OF CONFESSIONS

Haechan was perched on the edge of the recliner, his headset on and thumbs moving faster than the speed of light as he yelled commands at whom you could only assume was Mark. He tugged his bottom lip in between his teeth during his state of focus, eyes flitting across the screen as he watched out for other people coming to shoot him.

“Mark, you’re supposed to be watching my back!” he groaned in frustration as his character died, throwing himself back onto the chair with a frown. You looked up from your laptop and stifled a laugh at his antics, peering over at Jiyoon to see her glaring in his direction.

She rolled her eyes. “Dude, stop screaming. It’s not that serious.”

“You wouldn’t get it Jiyoon. It’s not like you’re doing anything important,” he replied, standing up to stretch. “You’ve been on your phone this whole time, I thought you were supposed to be doing homework?” His shirt exposed a sliver of his stomach when he brought his arms far above his head, making you look away quickly.

Jiyoon grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at his body, but he caught it with ease. “Shut up, you look like a fuckin’ pilot with that ridiculous headset on,” she grumbled, slumping back onto the couch and staring at the TV while he started another game.

“You’re both annoying,” you stated, not sparing them a glance while you closed your laptop softly, “and as much as I enjoy the cute sibling fights, I’ve gotta go.”

Haechan took his headset off, resting it around his neck. “Where are you going?”

“I have important business with Renjun. He’s outside already.”

He looked between you and his sister in confusion, noting how she wasn’t taken by surprise the same way he was. You hugged Jiyoon goodbye and slung your book bag over your shoulder, walking towards the front door as Haechan put his body in front of yours.

A cheeky smile played on his lips as he stared at you expectantly. “What about my hug goodbye?”

Jiyoon let out a laugh, waiting to see what you’d do.

“I don’t think so. Maybe next time,” you assured him, squeezing his shoulder softly.

He watched you leave the apartment and pulled his headset off completely, tossing it onto his seat with a sigh.

“Upset you didn’t get a hug?” his sister teased from her spot.

Haechan sat down next to her, ignoring the question. “Are her and Renjun… a thing?” he asked, turning to face her.

She would have burst out laughing had she not looked at him and seen something he’d never willingly show—insecurity.

“No, why would you think that?’ she questioned, a crease between her brows. “And more importantly, why do you care?” She mentally groaned at how bitchy it sounded after she spoke, but he remained unfazed.

“I was just wondering. They seem really close.”

“Hey, I’m close with Renjun too, y'know. Why didn’t you ever ask if we were a thing?” she joked.

He glared at Jiyoon, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you seriously asking that? I think you like girls more than I do.”

“Okay,” Jiyoon brought her hands up in defense, rolling her eyes. “I see where you’re coming from.”

She still looked at him strangely because after growing up together and knowing exactly how he’d react to certain situations, it was blaringly obvious there was more to this than pure curiosity.

“Is there something else, Hyuck?” She hadn’t used the nickname in forever, but she felt it was necessary for a (potential) heart-to-heart.

“You promise not to get mad?” he asked, sticking out his pinky.

She nodded, wrapping her smaller one around his.

“I think I really like her,” he mumbled.

Jiyoon blinked in surprise, lowering her pinky slowly. She wasn’t angry, that was for sure—she’d never seen her brother be so genuine about something, and it made her bubble in an unfamiliar happiness. Haechan stared at her unreadable expression, half afraid she’d blow up on him in a fit of rage and go on a rant about how you were off limits to him.

“I can’t believe it. My brother likes my best friend!” she finally squealed, throwing her arms over his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “I should have expected this though.”

Haechan blinked in confusion, his arms embracing Jiyoon hesitantly. “Uh, why?”

She pulled away from the embrace, holding Haechan away from her by his shoulders. “Looking back, you kind of made it obvious,” she said with a shrug. “Who would voluntarily spend that much time around their sister’s best friend if they weren’t getting anything out of it?”

He stayed quiet. It wasn’t like he planned on spending more time with you and making something out of it—it just happened to go that way. It was the universe’s plan, if you will.

“Okay, but you can’t say anything, Yoon.”

Her head bobbed enthusiastically. “I promise.”

The bright smile on her face tugged at his heart. He hadn’t told her the full truth, but half was better than nothing, right?

𖥻 05 - RENJUN’S SIXTH SENSE

“So what you’re telling me is… I was right,” Renjun rubbed his chin, “and I fuckin’ told you so.”

You groaned at his triumphant smirk, burying your face in your hands. “Don’t rub it in, asshole. I’ll take my feelings back right now.”

Renjun snorted, rolling his eyes as he leaned back and took a drink of his milk tea. “You couldn’t even if you tried. You’re in too deep.”

“I’m definitely not.”

“Okay, so tell me how you figured it out.” He quirked an eyebrow at you, awaiting a response.

“We went out the day Jiyoon was complaining about not having the car,” you began, tracing shapes onto the condensation that had built up on your cup. “We were both in the backseat-”

“If this is going where I think it is, spare me the details,” he interrupted you with a grimace on his face. “We’re best friends, but I do not need to hear about Haechan’s di-”

“Oh please shut up,” you groaned. “Anyways, we were just sitting there, not even saying anything, but it felt so right. He looked perfect.” Your eyes were glazed over, like you were in the backseat of Haechan’s car all over again.

He watched as your face fell, and you stared at your lap like a child being scolded. Renjun felt his expression relax, the sight of you so vulnerable hit a nerve he didn’t know existed. “Hey, why do you look so down? This is supposed to be a good thing,” Renjun said softly, reaching over to grab your hand in his. “C’mon, talk to me.”

“I’m really excited about this, believe me. But Ji…” you trailed off, avoiding his eyes. As much as you enjoyed being around Haechan, you couldn’t help but think of what Jiyoon would say if she saw you. She wouldn’t shame you or start reciting every swear word in the book, but the thought of her being disappointed was scarier than anything else. It was a constant, nagging feeling in the back of your brain every time you laid on his bed or pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I might sound like a shitty friend right now, but fuck it.” Renjun sat back in his chair with a shrug. “Don’t put everything on hold because you’re scared of what she’s gonna say. Ji is pretty understanding, and even though these are special circumstances, it’s nothing a little communication can’t fix.”

You nodded, but you still looked unconvinced.

He squinted at you, lips pursed in thought. “That’s not all, is it?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m just scared of a relationship in general,” you admitted. “It wasn’t supposed to go this far.”

“What do you mean?” Renjun asked, his posture slouched as he leaned towards you.

“Catching feelings. It’s such a cliche, but it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“It’s a little too late for that,” he said, “but you can’t stop yourself from enjoying it ‘cause you’re scared.” He ran a hand through his neatly parted hair, the action causing strands to stick upward.

“I don’t wanna end up hurt,” you mumbled, eyes downcast as you played with the rips on your jeans.

“You won’t,” he assured you. “You’re only gonna get hurt if you keep denying what you feel.”

“What if this just fucks everything up?”

“Y/N,” Renjun sighed, “your relationship with him wasn’t normal to begin with. Stop trying to make excuses for yourself.”

You drummed your fingers against the table. “I’m just gonna take it day by day then; try not to be so scared about it.”

“Exactly. And if things do go south, you’ll still have one Lee sibling and me.”

“Yeah, I’d be pretty okay with just you and Ji,” you noted with a smile. “I am sorry I put you in the middle of this though.”

He waved you off, pulling his straw away from his lips to reply. “I kinda like knowing everything. Makes me feel powerful,” he grinned.

“You’re such a sucker for drama,” you laughed, grateful for the shift in mood. “Oh, and Jiyoon convinced Haechan and I to go to Jaehyun’s party tomorrow.”

His eyebrows raised. “You and Haechan? At the same party? Together?”

“Yes, you bozo, that’s what I just said.”

“I’d so go just to see you guys expose yourselves,” he sighed, “but I have to work.”

“It’s like you want to see us fuck up.”

He shrugged. “You guys would do that all on your own.”

You chewed on the tip of your straw, staring him down through narrowed eyes. “If you weren’t my best friend, I’d toss this drink in your face.”

“You wouldn’t.” He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You can’t afford to throw away an almost full cup of boba on your budget.”

𖥻 06 - PRIVATE IN PUBLIC

Jiyoon was too persuasive for her own good.

You were apprehensive about the idea of coming to the party when she first mentioned it, the thought of all those people you didn’t know reeking of weed and alcohol was enough to keep you at bay—but you still found yourself in the middle of Jaehyun’s living room.

You sat on the worn out couch of the house, the bass coming from the speakers vibrating in the soles of your feet and traveling up your body in waves. The leather cushions were soft beneath your fingertips and your hair stuck to the back of your neck with a light layer of sweat from the humidity in the home. Jiyoon was in your line of sight, standing at the end of the staircase and smiling at whatever Yerim was saying as their fingers interlocked.

A pair of thighs blocked your view, and you looked up to see Haechan smiling down at you. The multi-colored led lights painted his face an array of blues, pinks, and greens, his eyes glinting with each flash of light.

“Here, for you,” he said, holding out your third solo cup of the night. You grabbed it from his hand and took a small sip while he sat down, his jean-clad legs rubbing against the side of your thigh.

“Scooch over,” you muttered, softly pushing your elbow into his side. “You’re in my personal bubble.”

He scoffed, snaking his arm around your waist and resting his hand on your hip. He lowered his mouth to your ear, his lips brushing against your hair as he said, “C’mon, I’ve been in more than your personal bubble.” He pulled away and chuckled at the shocked laugh that escaped your lips.

You made a space between the two of you, letting his hand drop from your hip. “Leave enough room for Jesus, Donghyuck. You’re actin’ up.”

He shook his head in amusement, taking a large gulp from his cup.

“Anyways, I like how Jiyoon ditched us,” he motioned his head in her direction, “after she practically begged us to come with her.”

You eyed the short-haired girl across the room, her soft features lit up with a grin. “You and I both know she came for Yerim. We were just a cover-up.”

There was a silence between the two of you for a moment, filled up with the loud music and laughter in the living room rather than conversation. Your head moved along to the song playing, catching Haechan’s attention. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he slid it out, turning it face up to read the notification.

[1:00am] seester: gonna leave with yerim rn, prob gonna spend the night. text when ur home, love u :D

His eyes drew away from the bright screen and towards the front door to barely catch Jiyoon leaving the house, Yerim trailing behind her. He turned back to you, your head still bobbing to the rhythm of the r&b song bouncing off the walls.

“C’mon, let's dance,” he said, taking your hand in his to pull you up from the couch. Weaving his way through the people, he got to a less crowded spot and brought you closer to him. His warm hands found purchase on your waist, a dopey smile adorning his face as he looked down on you.

You focused your gaze away from him, warmth rushing to your cheeks. He didn’t mind; it gave him all the more time to relish in your appearance while you moved against each other. It seemed like the moment you brought your hands up to his neck the people around you seemed to fade out, and there you stood at the center of his world.

A sheen of sweat covered your body, your skin glittering like diamonds under the multi-colored lights. Blue and pink luminescence stroked your body like a paint brush, the lustrous material of your satin dress shifting colors every time you moved. You looked surreal.

The corners of your lips turned up in a shy smile as you looked up at him, and he really thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest any second now.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured. His hands tugged you flush against his body, a dazed look in his eyes as he studied every inch of your face. Your fingers curled into his hair, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words. “So gorgeous, and so mine.”

He leaned down, licking his lips. The blend of his wood and citrus scented cologne swirled around you like smoke, overtaking your senses as he got closer to your face. The rest of the room was still buzzing with life, but you and Haechan were at a standstill. His gaze flickered between your eyes and parted lips for a moment before he cupped your cheek in his hand, closing the gap between you.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, deafening the noises around you. Haechan’s plush lips moved against yours, the mixture of pineapple juice and whiskey he had been sipping lingering on your mouth. The material of his shirt stuck to your chest when he pulled you closer, the buttons down the middle of his top pressing into your skin.

You’d kissed him hundreds of times, but this one made your skin feel like it was on fire. There was no rush to it, no crudeness. Everything he did felt right. His fingertips dug into your hips, trying to draw you in impossibly close. Your nails grazed his scalp when he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, causing him to pull away with a smile. The way your lips glistened had him captivated; he was made to do this to you.

The realization that you were still surrounded by people began trickling in, but everyone was too caught up in their own world or partner’s lips to give you a second glance.

“Maybe we can get going?” Haechan asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, and Haechan took your hand in his, moving away from the mass of people and towards the entrance. The fresh air engulfed you right as you stepped out while the cool November breeze created goosebumps along your exposed arms and legs.

The car unlocked with a click, and he held the passenger side open for you, shutting the door softly once you got in. The ride to his apartment was long and quiet, a wave of drowsiness hitting you the further Haechan drove. You rested your temple on the cool window and closed your eyes, letting the small bumps in the road lull you to sleep.

In your drowsy state, you could feel his warm hand rubbing comforting circles onto the flesh of your thigh. “Sleepy?” he asked softly.

You nodded, turning your head and opening your eyes. He focused on the road ahead, softly humming the song you danced to at the party. It felt oddly domestic; rare were the moments where you both sat quietly in a comfortable silence, the warmth of your bodies shared with a wandering hand or intertwined fingers. The space was often filled with Haechan’s unabating conversation or stories about his day, your mindless commentary thrown in between his rants as you played with his hair—but now you savored the silence and time you had to observe him.

You wanted more of that.

By the time he had sat you on his bed and took your dress off, your eyes were so heavy with sleep you didn’t mind him taking care of you. You sat against the headboard, your neck lolling to the side every time you dozed off involuntarily. The small lamp on his bedside table provided the only light in his room, its soft glow covering the expanse of the bed.

“Hey, stay awake,” Haechan instructed, pulling an old t-shirt of his over your head. “Why don’t you get under the covers? I’m gonna be back.”

Your movements were lethargic, his charcoal-colored duvet suddenly feeling like it weighed fifty pounds as you pushed it back and tucked yourself beneath them. The sheets below it were cold, causing a shiver to flutter up your legs and toward your upper body. Nestling further into his pillow, you let your eyelids close in pleasure as the smell of his shampoo surrounded you.

You could hear Haechan in the bathroom talking to himself and moving things around until he let out a satisfied aha, likely finding whatever it was he needed. His footsteps were soft against the hardwood floor, and you could feel a dip in the bed where he sat down near your hip.

“I need you awake for a few minutes, that’s it,” he said, brushing a piece of hair away from your eyes.

You opened your eyes and squinted up at him, eyeing the packet of wipes in his hands. “I’m up,” you muttered, giving him a thumbs up.

He let out a laugh, snapping the plastic lid open and pulling a wipey out. He gently cleaned your face, careful not to wipe roughly beneath your eyes. Jiyoon had always mentioned how it was sensitive, and she was extra careful when wiping her face to prevent wrinkles. It was safe to say he picked up a few things from her.

“Thanks,” you sighed.

“Mhm, gotta make sure you don’t sleep with that stuff on your face. Jiyoon says it’s bad.”

“It is,” you mumbled, pausing as he continued cleaning your skin, “I miss Jiyoon.”

He hummed, tossing the used wipe in the small trash can next to his bed. “Me too, but I’m sure she’s having fun with Yerim.”

You let out a loud yawn, and Haechan’s lips quirked into a smile at the way your nose scrunched up.

“Are we done? I’m sleepy.”

“Yeah, I’ll take the couch,” he replied, getting up on his feet.

“No, sleep with me,” you mumbled, pulling the covers back to make space for him. “Too cold to be by yourself.”

If you weren’t half-asleep, you probably would have noticed the way his face lit up. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm, I’m too used to sleeping with you. Can’t be alone anymore.”

His breath hitched, but you didn’t seem to notice, too busy cocooning yourself with his blankets. He rarely lost his train of thought, but there seemed to be no problem with doing it when you were around.

“Yeah, okay. Scooch.”

It didn’t take long for you to latch onto him as you fell asleep again, your breath slowing and cheek pressed against his upper arm. Having you next to him always provided a bit more warmth and comfort, but now it felt different. It wasn’t just from your body heat or soft skin, it was from you and everything you meant to him.

He didn’t think he could be alone anymore either.

𖥻 07 - JUST PRETTY

The morning after with Haechan typically felt rushed; it was a flurry of bare skin, messy blankets, and bleary eyes in search of stray pieces of clothing—much different in comparison to today.

You took your time in waking up, stretching your legs out of their tucked position until they were almost cramped and keeping your eyes shut even as the morning light begged for you to look at it. Haechan slept next to you, your hand bunching up the material of his t-shirt as you nestled into him. There was no panic to wake up before Jiyoon saw, and you could thank Yerim for that.

Haechan’s hand ran up the side of your bare thigh and rested on your hip, pulling you closer to his body. “Are you awake?” he mumbled.

You nodded and moved onto your stomach, your chin resting on his chest. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really good, had a nice dream.” He brought his hand up to your hair, running his fingers through the strands.

“Yeah? About what?”

His eyebrows pinched in the middle. “Oh. I uh, don’t remember,” his voice trailed off quickly before switching topics. “Do you have something to do today?”

You studied him skeptically, your eyebrows pinched together. “Weirdo,” you muttered under your breath, “but I don’t. We can get something to eat if you want.”

“Anything you’re craving right now?”

“This spot by my house makes a really good broccoli cheddar soup,” you began. “It's their Sunday special. We can take it to my place.” You gazed up at him, your eyes twinkling in the morning light as you mindlessly played with the hem of his t-shirt.

He smiled and stroked your cheek, a smile gracing your lips in return. “I’ll give you some sweats and we can go.”

The diner was a block down from where you lived, its exterior painted a terracotta color with its name emblazoned the side of it in stark white paint. You resided on the first floor of an older, two-story building, and the inside was just as Haechan expected it to be; cozy, inviting, and so you.

The distinct smell of lavender and mint surrounded him as soon as he stepped in, along with a hint of acrylic paint. A small shoe rack was by the front door, pairs of sneakers lined up with your favorite beat-up white Nikes tossed haphazardly next to them. The small table beside the rack held a colorful bowl with your university ID, a pack of gum, and now your house keys.

“You can go put it down over there,” you instructed, pointing towards your small kitchen. “I’m gonna go get some socks.”

He walked further into the apartment and looked around, setting the aromatic soup onto the counter beside the stove. The walls of your place were a cashmere color, the vibrant, hunter green of your numerous plants a pretty contrast against them. An elm wood coffee table with notebooks stacked beside it sat in front of your beige couch, its arm covered by a mustard yellow throw blanket (which he’d definitely take a nap with later.)

It all looked so lived in, but not in a bad way.

Paint brushes were scattered near the kitchen sink, and a flimsy calendar was tacked up on the fridge with a heart-shaped magnet, your neat writing filling almost all the dates up. It was a messy kind of organized, and it was something only you could pull off.

By now you’d come back out, your feet clad in mismatched fuzzy socks. “Okay, we can eat now.”

He took the soup out from the brown bag as you grabbed two gray bowls and spoons, setting them down on the counter softly. Once they were filled, you handed one to Haechan and led him over to the living room. You sat cross legged on the floor, waiting for him to get down next to you before you ate.

“I’m surprised I’ve never been here,” Haechan began, “I was starting to think you lived at my place.”

You let out a laugh, your spoon hitting against the glass bowl. “Jiyoon practically holds me hostage there, and don’t get me started on when you tell me to stay the night,” you teased.

“Don’t act like you don’t wanna do it either, you always enjoy your stays.”

“Or so you think, Hyuck,” you sighed, patting his shoulder softly. “I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

“You must be a pretty good actress, last week you were a mess-”

“Hey! Uncalled for!” you jabbed at his ribs with your elbow. “Anyways, I was actually gonna tell you we should start coming over here.”

“You prefer your room?” he asked, shoveling a spoonful of broccoli into his mouth.

You shook your head. “Not that, just to hangout. I remembered you wanted me to teach you how I made those little clay bowls,” you explained, “I bought new clay.”

He smiled to himself, recalling when he first asked you about them months ago. “You remembered that?”

“Duh, I waited for weeks to get an email that it was back in stock.”

“Look at you, going out of your way for me.” he smirked.

“Well I needed it for a class too,” you mumbled, shoving his shoulder. “You’re not that special.”

“No thanks, I’ll hear what I wanna hear.”

A comfortable silence fell over the room after that, the only noises coming from the two of you blowing on your spoonfuls of soup or the occasional scrape of metal against glass. He snuck a few glances at you, the t-shirt and sweatpants you’d borrowed from his closet fit loosely on your body and the mismatched socks tied the look together.

“It’s not nice to stare, Lee Donghyuck,” you hummed, continuing to scoop soup into your mouth.

A surge of confidence washed over him. “It’s hard not to.”

“Oh yeah?” You quirked a brow. “Why’s that?”

“You’re too pretty for me not to stare.”

You let your spoon fall into your bowl, eyes widened as you stared at his smug expression.

“What?” he asked.

“Uh, this is the part where you add in a dirty joke or something.”

“There’s no joke,” he laughed. “You’re just pretty.”

“Well, I guess you’re just pretty too.” You turned your attention back to your food, trying to save face.

He’d complimented you before, but it was always in the heat of the moment or when he was too blissed out to think straight. The genuine tone of voice he spoke with made your stomach do somersaults and your heart beat loudly in your ears. You tried to ignore his stare, but you could feel the way he lingered on your face as you focused on your bowl like it was a world renowned masterpiece.

It was rare that he saw you flustered, but he wanted to make it happen more often.

𖥻 08 - OUR FAVORITE SWEATER

Haechan was slowly taking over your apartment.

It started with him bringing his favorite blanket over and leaving it, stating it was “for future movie nights.” Then, he left so many t-shirts behind that you cleared up a space in your dresser to house them.

The last straw was when he left your—er, his—favorite sweater hung up on a chair in the kitchen.

“Hey, I accidentally left a couple shirts here,” he protested. “You act like I’m moving in.”

“Haechan, be real,” you deadpanned. “I had to clear space in my dresser to put away all the stuff you’ve accidentally left.”

“Well, yeah, but I figured leaving our sweater here would be okay!”

“Our sweater?”

“You like it just as much as I do,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You—okay, fine. I’ll give you that,” you sighed, “but you don't need all these t-shirts here!”

“I like to be prepared! What if one day you rip off my shirt and I—”

You cut him off, “What the fuck am I? A feral animal?”

He put his hands up in defense. “What you see yourself as is none of my business babe, but I think it’s okay to leave spare hoodies and shirts.”

“So you admit you left them here on purpose?”

“Mmm,” he pursed his lips, “that’s not what I said.”

You let out a loud groan, going over to your bed to sit down. “If you wanna move in so bad, just say that.”

“Move in? I think we’re going too fast. At least take me out first, yeah?”

You threw your teddy bear in his direction, resting your back on the headboard. “Moving too fast isn’t a thing for us,” you said. “We skipped over a few chapters in case you didn’t notice.”

He came over to the bed and laid on his stomach, his cheek pressed against your thigh. “Sometimes you don’t gotta go in order.”

“Yeah? In order of what?”

He raised his head, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I’m not sure yet.”

After Haechan left, you realized you couldn’t catch a break from him or Jiyoon.

You had a solid five minutes to yourself before a knock sounded on your door. Peering out the peephole, you saw Jiyoon’s rosy cheeks and mussed hair.

“Y/N, I know you’re home!”

You turned the top lock and swung the door open, a hand on your hip as she grinned at you. “I cannot have any alone time.”

She pushed past you, kicking her shoes off and tossing them on the floor near yours. “Alone time doesn’t exist, sorry,” she exhaled. “I haven’t seen you in forever, wanted to pay a little visit.”

You closed the front door and joined Jiyoon in the living room, plopping down next to her and putting the control on her lap.

“You’ve been watching this show so much,” she began, “how does it not creep you out?”

“What? The bodies?”

“Yeah. I mean, I get it’s fake, but sometimes they look so real,” she shuddered.

“C’mon Ji, you’re just a baby,” you groaned.

She huffed, exiting from your crime show and scrolling up to the search bar. “I don’t care! I'm still gonna change it, you little creep.”

You let out a loud laugh, hugging a pillow close to your body. “You’re such a fuckin’ loser.”

“A loser with a girlfriend,” she teased in a singsong tone.

“What! Since when?”

“Since the party,” she grinned. “After we left we went to some little fast food place, she started going on about how she really likes me.”

“Ji,” you cooed, “I’m so happy for you.”

“I just feel so good about this,” she sighed dreamily. “I explained to her I’m not the most experienced with relationships and Yerim said we can move as slow as I’d like.”

“I’m glad. There’s no need to rush anything.”

She nodded, giving you a small smile. “What about you, hmm? Anyone capture your attention?”

“Maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled.

Jiyoon tapped her fingers against the remote, her eyes flitting around the living room before zeroing in on the kitchen table and standing up abruptly. “Hey, is this Haechan’s?” she asked, picking the grey sweater up.

“Oh, yeah. I borrowed it the night of the party,” you lied.

A moment of silence passed before she walked over to the couch and sat down again. “Can I uh, tell you something? And you have to keep it a secret.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve been holding this in for weeks Y/N,” she whined. “The longest I’ve ever kept a secret in the entire history of my life!”

“Okay, tell me.”

“Alright, but you can’t say anything. I mean, I wasn’t supposed to say anything either but—”

You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a groan, throwing your pillow at her. “Lee Jiyoon, spit it out you overly dramatic bitch!”

She let out a loud gasp and her pink lips formed into an ‘o’ as she narrowed her eyes at you. “Well now I can’t say it, your attitude was unnecessary.”

“That’s fine with me, I don't ca—”

“Okay fine, you got me,” she interrupted. “Haechan likes you, like, really likes you.”

You blinked and waited for Jiyoon to start laughing, but she stared at you blankly instead. You felt the color drain from your face and your stomach twist in discomfort, her sudden confession catching you off guard.

“Did he—did he say that to you?”

She nodded. “It was when you left our place to hang out with Renjun, he seemed really serious about it,” she began, biting back a smile as she thought back to the event. “And I’ve never said anything to you or him, but sometimes I saw these looks you gave each other, like there was something more.”

You swallowed thickly, waiting for her to continue.

“I brushed it off as nothing, but then I saw you guys the night of the party.” She smiled softly. “Y/N, he adores you. He hasn’t dated since high school, and I know you’re not one for relationships either, but I just… hope you try.”

Here she was, trying to convince you of her brother's feelings when you had been trying to avoid them for weeks on end. You couldn’t lie to yourself and act like you didn’t see it; it didn’t take a genius to figure out from the beginning that this was where your little partnership with Haechan would end up.

You stayed silent for a moment, your eyes trained on the grey sweater she held in her hands. “I don’t know what to say, Ji,” you whispered.

She stood up, dropping the hoodie onto your lap softly. “You don’t have to say anything, just think about it, okay?”

𖥻 09 - CLAY BOWLS

You’d woken up in a cold sweat, your room tinted a murky blue from the light outside and birds chirping loudly in the distance. It felt like you couldn’t move; your eyes remained focused on the ceiling as you placed your hand on your chest to slow your breathing, blinking to adjust to the low light of the room. Jiyoon’s words bounced around in your head while you lay in bed, and you had mulled over your options late into the night before you fell asleep.

Haechan had sent you messages asking how your day had gone and if you ate anything, but they remained unopened. You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, let alone look at the tiny contact photo of him pouting above his name without feeling horrible. It was funny, knowing how you wanted to avoid Haechan like the plague even though you harbored the same feelings as him.

Your phone lit up with a notification, the bright screen casting a light over the ceiling.

[7:00am] haechan: ur prob sleeping, but i hope ur feeling okay

[7:01am] haechan: are we still on for today after my class?

[7:01am] you: i’m up, feeling better. we’re still on

For once, you had to listen to Renjun. You couldn’t keep running away from your problems even if it was easier to avoid them; you didn’t deserve that, and neither did Haechan.

You were able to fall back asleep for a few more hours after your short exchange with Haechan, and by now the sun had fully risen and painted a soft light over your apartment. Your nerves still pulled at your insides, but you tried to subdue the feeling by catching up on your show.

[1:30pm] haechan: i’ll be there soon, i’ll use the spare

A smile tugged at your lips.

[1:30pm] you: alright, see you then :]

A few weeks ago, you’d gotten home to find Haechan sitting on your front steps, his nose a soft pink from sitting in the cold.

“I wanted to see you, but then my phone died and I couldn’t text,” he had explained with a pout.

You remember laughing at his pout before lifting the flower pot beside him and pointing at the silver key. “You can let yourself in next time.”

Now that he knew where the spare was, you’d often find him on the couch watching a show or taking a nap as he hugged the throw blanket you kept there. You didn’t care to admit it made your heart stutter every time you caught him with his mouth agape, soft snores leaving his lips after a “long” day.

The sound of the door opening drew you from your thoughts, and the sight of him so relaxed made your fingers fidget with the rips on your jeans.

He smiled at you, dropping his book bag on the floor. “Hi.”

“Hi. How was class?”

“It was okay,” he replied. “My professor just lectured the whole time, I took a quick nap.”

“Shouldn’t sleep during class, Donghyuck.”

“My legal name? What’s gotten into you?” he joked.

You gave him a half-hearted smile and stood up from the couch, ignoring his watchful stare as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Hey, you okay?” Haechan asked. He tilted his head softly, eyes watching you carefully.

“I just feel tired. Let's get started with the clay, yeah?”

His lips parted as if to speak, but he stopped himself and sat beside you instead, waiting patiently as you slid over a chunk of clay.

“You can knead it for a little bit, soften it up,” you instructed. “I’ll show you how to use the tools when we get to that part.”

His nimble fingers began to change color as he kneaded, thin layers of the clay staining them terracotta.

“Use this little knife to cut stuff out, you can make whatever you’d like,” you said, sliding the tool over to Haechan with your elbow as you continued kneading.

“What’re you gonna make?”

You thought for a moment. “A little plate for my earrings.”

“I’ll make one too then, for my rings. Will you show me?”

You nodded, and although you’d practiced it enough to do it with your eyes closed, you worked slowly so he could copy what you did. He followed your movements carefully and scored the edges of his clay, spreading slip on it with his pointer finger.

Pausing to look over at his work, your eyebrows raised in slight surprise. “You caught on pretty fast,” you mused.

His eyes remained on his project while he attached a separate piece of clay to the base, smoothing over the edges where they met. “I have a great teacher.”

After a few more silent minutes of helping him fix little mistakes and comparing your creations, you put them down together to dry. “I got us air dry clay, that way I don’t have to bake it,” you explained. “We can paint them another day.”

“Y’know, I was expecting something like that scene from Ghost,” he joked. “I was ready for you to wrap your arms around me and teach me.”

You let out a breathy laugh, standing up from the chair and walking towards the sink to wash your hands. “Not today.”

He followed close behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder as you washed your hands. “Hey, seriously. Is everything okay?” he whispered. “You’ve been really quiet.”

Ignoring his question, you lightly shrugged his chin off of you as you scrubbed your hands furiously.

“Hey,” he pushed, reaching over to turn the water off. “What’s your problem?”

“I wasn't done washing my hands.”

A twinge of frustration laced his voice as he spoke, “I don’t care, talk to me.”

You turned around to look at him, his dirty hands resting on his hips as he stared you down. “Nothing’s wrong, Donghyuck.”

“You know you can’t lie to me, right? It��s so obvious when you do,” he snarked. “You can never go to bed without saying goodnight, and yesterday you did that and ignored my messages.”

“You say this like we’re dating. Why do you care?”

He cocked his head to the side, your words stinging as he processed them. “Why do I care? Because something is obviously going on.”

You pushed past him and walked towards your bedroom, his heavy footsteps sounding behind you. “You—you care too much, Donghyuck,” you huffed. “Stop it.”

“I can’t.”

“Well, you should. I’ll even help you out.”

“What are you talking about?” he questioned.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him. He stared at you quizzically, his eyebrows pinched together as he waited for you to respond.

“We need a break,” you said bleakly.

Haechan let out a laugh of disbelief, his arms crossed over his chest. “A break from what? Fucking without feelings?” he jeered. “I’d say we’re pretty well past that!”

“I didn’t say that!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

“Well you implied it, and that’s as good as anything,” he yelled back. “I’m so fucking in love with you and you can’t see it.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your vision blurred, making Haechan a mosaic of indistinguishable colors. His narrowed eyes softened as he caught sight of a tear rolling down your cheek, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

You collapsed onto the foot of the bed, your hands gripping your thighs. “Haechan you cannot say that to me,” you whispered. “Please don’t use that word.”

“I won’t ever force you into something, you know that,” he said. “But I can’t pretend nothing is going on.”

“Can you at least try? For me?”

He dropped down in front of you, his legs folded beneath him as his hands grabbed yours. They were rough, flakes of dried clay falling onto your jeans. “I know what goes on in my head, baby,” he said. “I can’t pretend, and I don’t want to either.”

By now your tears had begun to fall harder, the wet droplets soaking into your olive shirt and staining it a darker shade. Your face felt hot, the entire room blurry as you tried blinking them back.

“I know something’s going on in that pretty head of yours. I’ve noticed,” Haechan murmured softly. He lifted your chin up and made you look at him, his thumb wiping stray tears from your cheeks. “Say it.”

You shook your head, swallowing back sobs as tears welled up in his eyes. “Please, you’re killing me,” he begged.

He squeezed your hands, hoping to elicit a response from you. You kept shaking your head, lips pressed into a thin line as if someone had sewn them shut for you.

Haechan’s eyes searched your face, hoping to find a silent response from you. The longer you stood quiet the further he strayed from you, and the distraught feeling that snaked itself around his throat made it feel hard to breathe.

After a few more moments of silence, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles and released your hands, letting them fall onto your lap. “That’s all I needed to know,” he mumbled.

You watched him leave the room, his shoulders drooping downward and steps defeated as he walked out with your tears on his hands. Once the door slammed shut, you made your way to the kitchen and sat down in your spot from earlier, staring blankly at his clay bowl.

Maybe he wouldn’t get to paint it after all.

𖥻 10 - REALITY CHECK

Even when he was gone, all you could see was Haechan.

The t-shirts he’d left at your apartment remained untouched in your drawer, his hoodie was still thrown over the arm of your couch, and his now hardened clay bowl remained in the center of your table. It felt like a bad breakup, albeit there was no relationship to break up in the first place.

You couldn’t bring yourself to move his things into a bag or out of your line of sight either; every time you pulled your drawer open to grab a pair of socks, his t-shirts sat there neatly folded, practically taunting you about your biggest fuck up so far. At times you thought about getting rid of them, but you knew the reason everything remained the same in your apartment was because a part of you hoped he’d come back. You hoped he’d be sleeping on your couch after you got home one day, or maybe he’d join you in finally painting the clay bowls you had made together. You hoped that even after you fucked up, he’d be able to see the good in you.

“Why does he have to see the good in you?” Your head snapped up and you met Renjun’s eyes, his brows pinched together in confusion.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” he muttered. “Why does he have to be the one who comes to you?”

You rubbed your arm, lips quirked to the side in thought. “I just, y’know, want him to understand I didn’t mean it,” you mumbled.

Renjun leaned forward in his chair, interlocking his fingers. “To be honest, I wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You know you have feelings for him, why couldn’t you admit that when he was bearing his soul to you like you were in some shitty Shakespeare play?”

“I was scared!” you exclaimed. “He was laying it all on me, and I just didn’t know what to say.”

“We’ve literally gone over this,” the raven-haired boy groaned, “don’t fuck things up for yourself because you’re scared.”

“Y’know, that’s really easy for you to say considering it’s not happening to you!”

He scoffed. “Damn straight. I don’t need anyone,” he said matter-of-factly, “but you two idiots need each other.”

“I guess so,” you muttered. “I regret pushing him away.”

“I told you not to.”

You rested your chin in the palm of your hand, eyes squinted in his direction. “You’re a shitty therapist, Huang.”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” he asked sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware, give me a minute.”

You watched in amusement as he straightened his posture and picked up his glasses from the table, placing the thin frame on his slender nose bridge. “Therapist Huang is ready to see you now. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“Wait, before we start, are you charging by the hour?” you asked, stifling a laugh. “I only have five dollars in cash.”

He pursed his lips for a moment, thinking to himself. “I’ll charge by how much emotional baggage you have,” Renjun said. “And don’t worry about paying, I also take Venmo and PayPal.”

A fake smile was plastered on his face as he finished speaking, earning a loud laugh from you.

“It’s nice to see you laughing now,” he mused, a smile tugging at his lips. “I know you’re still upset, but there’s no point in being stuck on what you didn’t do—focus on what you can do.”

You gave him a thumbs up. “You’re like a walking inspirational quotes page.”

Renjun let out a frustrated sigh and pinched his nose bridge. “Thank you for ruining my moment.”

“I’m only encouraging you!”

He shook his head and took his glasses off again, the wiry frame hitting the table with a soft clang! as he set them down. “Therapy session over,” he deadpanned. “Let's get down to business.”

“What business?”

“The business. Keep up!” Renjun groaned. “What’re you gonna tell Haechan?”

You leaned your chin on your palm, lips pursed in thought. “Well, I’d like to apologize to h—”

“Well no shit.” Renjun’s eyes widened as he realized what he said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

You glared at him. “As I was saying, I wanna apologize properly, y’know? Explain myself to him, profess my undying love, the sorts.”

“So we’re just gonna skip over the whole ‘undying love’ thing?” Your best friend looked at you with low eyes, annoyance written across his face.

Waving Renjun off, you crossed one leg over the other. “Yes, we don’t have enough time for that,” you sighed. “What should I do? Hold a boombox outside of his window?”

“I know that’s supposed to be a joke, but I wouldn’t put it past you,” he grimaced. “So that’s gonna be a fat ass no from me.”

“Okay, party pooper,” you muttered, putting your hands up in mock surrender, “I’ll go the simple route.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“Well I can’t say, that ruins the element of surprise.”

“You have no clue what you’re gonna do, do you?” Renjun deadpanned.

Your lips formed a tight line, cheeks puffing up as if stuffed with food. “I have no idea.”

𖥻 11 - BROCCOLI CHEDDAR SOUP

You were procrastinating. Hard.

A few days had passed since your conversation with Renjun and you’d done nothing to further your plan of winning Haechan back. This wasn’t a complicated, forty-step mission that you had to accomplish, you just needed to see him and apologize.

No ungodly amount of shitty reality TV or holiday movies were able mask the fact you couldn’t stop thinking about Haechan either, but he felt further away with every day that passed. Things were empty without him, to the point where you wished you could go back to him keeping an unnecessary amount of clothing at your apartment just so you’d have the opportunity to tease him about it.

Every room in your apartment had a memory of him attached to it too, like a never ending reminder you had to fix this. You could imagine him sleeping on the couch, a thin blanket pulled up to his chin and soft lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheekbones, or sitting on your bed while you tried on clothes and asked for his opinion (although it often ended with him wolf-whistling annoyingly loud).

Falling back onto the sofa, a huff of air escaped your lips. “It’s just a fuckin’ apology,” you muttered to yourself. “Think.”

It wasn’t until your stomach grumbled loudly and you checked your phone that you got an idea. You got off the couch abruptly, pulling on your coat and nearly tipping over as you tried putting your sneakers on with one hand.

It was Sunday, and that meant broccoli cheddar soup at the diner.

The December air was sharp, prickling at your skin and nose enough for your eyes to brim with tears. You waited for him to answer the door, holding the styrofoam container of soup close to your chest in hopes of easing the freezing cold. As you were about to knock your knuckles against the door again, it swung open.

Haechan looked at you in surprise, his pink lips parted as he focused on your face. His hair was longer now, tufts of caramel-colored strands covering the tops of his ears and eyebrows. The white t-shirt he wore hung on his body perfectly, and even in the light of winter it contrasted beautifully against his tanned skin.

“Oh, uh, Jiyoon isn’t ho—”

“I’m not here for her,” you breathed out, your words accompanied by white puffs of air. “I’m here for you.”

Confusion flashed in his eyes but he opened the door wider anyway, letting you into the warm house.

“Those are my sweats,” he said softly.

As confused as he was, his heart swelled while looking at you. The black puffer jacket you wore was zipped all the way up to your chin, the fluffy material giving you the appearance of a child well prepared for a day of playing in snow. His sweatpants were too long and bunched up around your ankles, the gray material flowing onto the tongue of your sneakers.

You set the soup down and looked down at your legs, cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention this morning,” you murmured.

He shook his head and smiled softly. “It’s okay, they look better on you anyway,” he replied reassuringly. “But uh, did you need something?”

“Yes, kind of. I wanna tell you I’m sorry,” you said carefully, unzipping your jacket. “And I brought us soup.”

A dulcet laugh escaped his heart-shaped lips at the mention of the soup, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let's talk first, yeah?”

You nodded and followed him to the sofa, your knees knocking together softly as you sat beside each other.

“Hyuck, I really wasn’t thinking straight,” you mumbled, wringing your hands together. “I’m sorry. I thought that—I don’t know… maybe denying what I was feeling would go better for us, but I was wrong.”

He nodded, beckoning you to continue.

“I was so scared that it would ruin things between us, but I did that all by myself,” you laughed dryly. “It felt like a bad dream; all I wanted was to wake up and see you taking over my house again.”

He let out a small laugh at that, his cheeks tinted a soft pink. “Y’know, I really wanted to call you,” he began, “but I just… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“I should have been honest with you. It wasn’t fair to you or me,” you admitted, hesitantly grabbing one of his hands.

Haechan ran his thumb across your knuckles, remaining quiet for a moment before speaking, “I think both of us should have been more honest from the beginning… but thanks for apologizing.” A smile played on his lips; not enough for the skin around his eyes to crinkle, but enough for you to know it was genuine.

“Maybe we can… go back and start over?” you suggested softly.

He nodded, shaking your hand. “I’m Donghyuck, but you can call me Haecha—”

A loud laugh escaped your lips, your hand coming up to swat his shoulder. “Not that far back, dumbass!”

𖥻 12 - NO MORE SECRETS

Haechan liked when you were vulnerable.

He liked when you didn’t wipe your tears away during sad scenes of sappy films, and he liked when you told him exactly how you felt without beating around the bush. You didn’t hide from him anymore; he could explore you with both his words and calloused hands without you holding back.

He liked when you shared, too. Spoonfuls of your soup, the expensive face wash you used, even your endless amount of paint tubes in that clear bag on the side of your desk.

“Hey, earth to loverboy,” you called to him, waving your hand in his face. “Pass me the blue paint, please.”

He reached over to grab the tube and screwed the cap off, handing it to you. “Y’know, you’re way better at this than I am. Maybe you can paint mine.”

“Nope, it’s your bowl. You paint it.”

“Please,” he groaned, dragging out the word, “I’ll give you a bajillion kisses if you do.” He blinked rapidly, trying to sway you with the flutter of his lashes and the pout that graced his lips.

“You look dumb,” you laughed. “Plus, you can’t give me a bajillion kisses. That number doesn’t exist, and your lips would fall off.”

Haechan paused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in thought as he turned to you.

“What are you doing?” You squinted at him.

“I’m just… thinking of my science experiment.” He shrugged. “You’ll be my lab rat, right?”

“A fuckin lab rat? What are yo—”

He squished your cheeks between his hands as he began to pepper kisses along your face, a laugh escaping your mouth as his lips sloppily pressed against your cheek.

“Let me go! That’s enough!” you cackled, pushing him away by his shoulders. “What kind of science experiment is that?”

“I think I got close to a bajillion kisses,” he said cheekily, leaning back into his chair. “Lips are still attached, babe.”

You shook your head, a faint smile on your face as you began painting again. “So annoying, Donghyuck.”

He stared at you silently, unaware of the way his lips curled into a grin as you worked. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

Humming in response, you continued to brush blue paint onto the terracotta bowl.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your head shot up in surprise, eyes slightly widened and glittering from the reflection of the light above your kitchen table. “I love you too,” you mumbled, leaning over to kiss his lips softly.

There was no more sneaking around in his bedroom or car, and no rushing to leave before you were seen or telling little white lies. He could hold you softly and love you loudly, with no fear of what would happen next.

Haechan liked not having any more secrets, but he loved that you were finally his.

consider donating to my ko-fi here ! ᰔ

a/n: if you got down to this point, thank you so much for reading this! it’s my first 11k+ fic and i’m kindaaaa proud of it<3 thank you to my lovely beta readers @masterninjacow @subways-stuff @latetaektalk @/hvae @/jensrose i appreciate y’all so much !! :( as always, feedback is appreciated <3 have a great day/night !!

taglist: @perhapsthanatos @ilovjaehyun @rrnhyuck @strawberrytyong @aedreamzy @silverdoragon @flower-lise @h1cynth @piperstofu101 @hvae @jensrose @peachjaem00 @i9hyuck @karsohn @ryu-naa @90sgatsby-jjh @skuezk @yoongischeeksluv @m1ss-foodi3 @theskzvibe

#ficscafe #neowritingsnet #wkcnet #neoturtles #nct imagines #haechan fluff #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #lee haechan

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gardenerian · 3 years

Note

Ooooh Mel Mel Mel! 5 lazy Sunday mornings + 1 hectic Monday morning! Pls and thank you!!! 💞

ooOOOOOOh! this was super cute to think about! i kinda fucked up in that the last one is not a monday but it’s still a hectic morning! hope you like ❤️

mickey makes his peace with death before he even opens his eyes.

his head is pounding - a sharp, stabbing pain between his eyes that makes his entire body shiver. the room is too fucking bright, even from behind his eyelids. his body revolts against him as he fights through the agony towards consciousness.

he’s gonna die, struck down by jack daniels the day after his sister’s birthday party. over his shoulder, he hears it calling him. “mickey,” the voice croaks, hoarse and weak and miserable.

death sounds pretty pathetic.

“mickey, please…”

wait, no - that’s just ian.

“whaddya want,” mickey grunts, smacking his lips against the terrible taste in his mouth.

“so fuckin’ thirsty,” ian whispers. “you got any water over there?”

mickey, eyes still shut against the harsh morning light, slaps his hand around his bedside table, feeling for anything he can offer ian. he wraps his hand around the bottle of gatorade he’d left out for himself last night and flings it over his shoulder. it sails past ian and lands on the floor on the other side of the bedroom.

“the fuck was that?” ian groans. “mickey, i’m dying.”

“i can't even open my eyes, man. did the best I could.”

he feels ian roll over, groaning again with the effort. mickey wants to turn and face him, but he’s pretty sure he’s cemented to the mattress as he is.

“never drinking again,” ian says, voice cracking. “this is the worst.”

“you say that every time mandy comes to town,” mickey reminds him. “then she shows up ready to party and you can’t help yourself.”

“it was her birthday,” ian insists. “what was i supposed to do?”

“maybe not tequila shots?”

“you’re one to talk. i’m pretty sure i saw you chase a shot with an entire beer.”

“carl’s idea.”

“and that didn’t bring up any red flags for you?”

mickey finally rolls over, taking in ian’s wild hair and bleary eyes. “you look like shit,” he says, and ian just sticks his tongue out.

they lay in silence for a moment, both breathing heavily through their alcohol-soaked discomfort. the sun is still too fucking bright. they’d flopped into bed without closing the curtains last night, and mickey feels like his eyes are going to boil out of his skull.

“what do i have to do for you to make coffee?”

the idea of getting up, even for coffee, is so abhorrent that mickey wants kick ian out of bed just for suggesting it. he’s going to lay in this bed for the rest of time; ian can get his own damn coffee.

he rolls over again, pulling the covers up to his neck. ian huffs and snuggles close, shoving his icy feet between mickey’s legs.

“this isn’t helping your case, asshole,” mickey snaps.

“if you get up and make coffee right now, i’ll order you your favorite breakfast sandwich and blow you once we don’t feel like dying anymore.”

mickey chews on his lip, considering. he can’t think of anything worse than attempting to stand right now, but - fuck, he wants the bacon. the grease is the only thing that can heal him. ian chuckles behind him, clearly knowing he’s won.

“two sandwiches,” he mumbles, “and extra hashbrowns.”

“deal.”

the apartment looks like the end of the fucking world.

ian steps gingerly around legos, toy cars, and freddie’s coloring books on his way to the couch. mickey’s already there, stretched out with his arm over his face.

“they were only here for a few days,” mickey sighs, “but i think those kids shortened my lifespan.”

“i know,” ian agrees, flopping down beside his husband and curling into his side. “i’m fuckin’ beat.”

“still want some of your own? after all that?”

“some of our own, and yes. debs and lip were so happy to pick them up this morning.”

“they were happy because they just had a week with no kids,” mickey argues. ian can see him grinning beneath his arm.

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, “you’ll see one day.”

“maybe,” mickey admits. “but today, i wanna do absolutely nothing. uncle mickey has earned that privilege, don’tcha think?”

ian hums in agreement and burrows further into mickey’s side. mickey brings his arm down from his own face and sinks his hand into ian’s hair, scratching lightly.

“you did good this week,” ian murmurs after a few quiet moments. “they love you a lot.”

“they love getting ice cream for dinner,” mickey says, waving him off. “they’d love anyone who let them eat a fucking sundae for supper.”

“and lets them stay up way past their bedtime.”

“and gets them every single toy in the goddamn store, even though they have hundreds of toys at home.”

“yeah,” ian sighs. “we did do that.” he makes a stunted effort to sit up. “guess i’ll start picking up so we don’t twist an ankle in this minefield.”

mickey yanks on ian’s arm, pulling him back towards the couch. “i don’t think so, red. that seems like a later problem. or a tomorrow problem. for now, we do nothing.”

ian raises an eyebrow. “alright. but that means you don’t get to complain when you’re laid up for a week because you tripped on franny’s firetruck.”

mickey snorts in amusement, pulling ian closer still. “all i’m hearin’ is a week off of work while you bring me shit. no complaints from me, man.”

they stay on the sofa for the rest of the morning - napping on and off, enjoying the quiet and the closeness.

one day they’ll chase the pitter patter of other tiny feet. they’ll pick up these same toys, repurposed for their own children, only to find them on the floor again later. there will be such noise, little giggles and shrieks and the smacking of kisses on cheeks.

but today, they do nothing together.

mickey wakes up able to breathe through his nose for the first time in days. he swears with relief, and vows to never take his nostrils for granted again.

both mickey and ian had spent the last few days knocked the fuck out by franny’s cold. they laid in bed, shivering and sniffling, only leaving their room for soup or to hold each other up in the bathroom.

ian appears in the doorway holding a couple of steaming mugs, and mickey is relieved to see some color in his face.

“it’s just tea,” he says, handing mickey a cup. “my throat’s still a little bit scratchy.”

mickey hums in thanks, even though he doesn’t really like ian’s tea, and nods for ian to join him in their bed again.

“thought we could migrate to the living room today,” ian suggests. “i’m kinda sick of this bed.”

“it could use an airing out,” mickey agrees. “definitely time to wash these germy sheets.”

“okay,” ian says bracingly, “you toss them in the wash and i’ll throw out all these fuckin’ tissues. then - couch.”

the apartment is still messy, a shrine to their days-long illness, but it’s a start. mickey feels a little lighter when they collapse on the sofa together. his head still aches and it hurts to swallow, but he thinks they might be ready to work again by the time monday rolls around.

ian brings mickey close, gently situating him so his head rests in ian’s lap. they spend the day giving each other little comforts. ian plays with his hair for a while; later mickey rubs at ian’s stiff and aching shoulders. mickey heats up tomato soup for lunch, ian wakes mickey from a nap with a mug of hot chocolate.

neither of them feel particularly well still. it’s hard, feeling this weak for so long. but it’s a luxury to let himself feel it, to let himself be cared for. to care for ian. and they’re both grateful to at least talk with each other again.

to come alive together, just a little bit.

the relief at seeing ian’s eyes brighten again - and seeing that same relief mirrored on his face - is enough to carry mickey through until he’s well enough to kiss his husband senseless again.

for the first time in a long time, ian wakes up on his own. no alarm, no mickey shouting that they’re running late, no wayward gallaghers shaking him awake for a favor.

he smiles into his pillow, stretching out under the covers. ian doesn’t even know what time it is, and his body is warmed through when he realizes that he doesn’t care. he’s in no hurry to find out.

it can’t be very early, because mickey’s side of the bed is cool and empty. ian doesn’t have time to pout about his absence before mickey’s voice sounds from the doorway.

“sit up, bitch, i got eggs incoming.”

ian rolls onto his back, pulling himself upright to see mickey cross the room carrying a tray laden with breakfast. he places it in ian’s lap before crawling back under the covers.

“what’s all this?” ian asks, popping a stray blueberry in his mouth.

“no work,” mickey says happily. “no gallagher crises, no errands to run, no nieces or nephews to wrangle. i’m keeping your ass in bed all day.”

“if i need to get up, should i leave my ass here?”

“yeah, actually, you can go if ya want.”

ian snickers, reaching for a piece of bacon. “okay then. i’ll leave my ass as a thank you gift for this breakfast. you outdid yourself, mick.”

“we earned it,” mickey shrugs. “wanted some time with you. and your ass.”

“time,” ian sighs. what a thing. empty hours, nothing to rush them along before they’re ready. “we got plenty of that.”

they don’t have a party this time, even if mickey thinks they deserve one.

their second year of marriage was calmer than the first. it was less about scrambling to find their way, and more about settling into their life. into each other. it was less of a battle, but still a victory.

mickey feels fucking triumphant as he blinks awake on their second anniversary.

ian is kissing and nipping at his neck, grinning and humming against his skin. mickey pulls his hand from the covers, pulling lightly at the hairs at ian’s neck.

it shouldn’t still blow him away, how easy it is to wake up like this. to feel perfect fucking bliss while still at the edge of consciousness. it shouldn’t still surprise him that ian wants to wake him up with pleasure.

but it does.

mickey marvels at it every day.

sometimes as he brushes his teeth, and ian stumbles in to press a kiss to his cheek and hop in the shower, he’s astounded by ian’s presence. by his permanence. or when they’re cooking dinner, and ian wiggles to a song as he chops the veggies, mickey wonders at the constant proximity.

it’s mundane. and in that way, it’s goddamn miraculous.

two years of building this secure life, this comfortable fucking life, and mickey still gapes in the face of his own happiness. he trusts it, finally, but he refuses to take it for granted. he wants to feel this amazement, this awe at ian’s lips on his skin.

these little joys that dot his days.

he sighs and sinks back against his pillows, throwing himself into the sensation as ian moves down his body, licking and teasing as he goes. renewing their vows with his tongue.

they’ll spend hours here, wrestling between the sheets, sighing and laughing and crying out. they’ll dress slowly, taking their time as they get distracted by each other. and they’ll go out together, grinning over drinks and a nice meal, utensils a given at this point.

and mickey will fall asleep, like he now has hundreds of times before, wrapped in two strong arms and a promise. that tomorrow will bring the same mundane joy he felt today. that there will be a tomorrow, and he’ll never face it alone again.

ian perches on the toilet of the church bathroom, blowing smoke through the cracked window by his head. he still feels weird in churches. it feels like he shouldn’t be here, celebrating under the stained glass.

but it’s a good day - or it will be, once all this fucking work is done. when lip asked ian to be his best man, he’d agreed without question. standing next to his brother on this day means everything.

but jesus christ, he forgot how much work weddings are.

there are flowers to arrange and tables to set up, chairs to organize, family members to wrangle, caterers to hunt down and a cake to keep from toppling. at his own wedding, ian had been so consumed by mickey that it felt like everything had just magically come together.

he realizes now just how much of the day had actually come down to lip.

ian should be out there now, working through tami’s pre-ceremony to-do list, or at least making sure lip isn’t crawling out of his skin. but he needs a minute, just one fucking minute to himself, or he’s going to lose his mind.

there’s a knock at the door and ian bites down on his tongue, trying not to snap at whoever’s jiggling the handle.

“ian,” mickey hisses from the other side, “i know you’re in there. let me in, asshole.”

sagging with relief, ian scrambles to let mickey in. he smiles a little shakily at his husband once they’re safely hidden behind the locked bathroom door.

“jesus fuck,” mickey groans, reaching for ian’s cigarette. “was it this insane when we got hitched?”

ian shrugs, plucking the cigarette from mickey’s lips. “it was definitely busy,” he says diplomatically. “but at least aunt oopie didn’t descend on our day.”

“god,” mickey groans, leaning against the tile wall, “i’m gonna end up stabbing her, aren’t i?”

“please don’t stab anyone today, mick. don’t think it’ll make for a nice wedding video.”

“fine. for you, i won’t stab anyone.”

“not for lip or tami?”

“okay, for you and tami. lip better be glad i haven’t stabbed him yet. he didn’t take any of my advice about the chairs.”

“i’m sure he’ll regret that.”

mickey smirks up at him, nodding in agreement. “what else is there to do?”

“god,” ian groans. “we gotta double check the sound system, make sure the programs are ready to go, get freddie set up with the rings, and lip wants to practice his vows before it all starts. you seen tami?”

“cool as a cucumber,” mickey informs him. “she’s way better at getting married than we were.”

“i was good at getting married,” ian insists, offended.

“you’re good at being married,” mickey corrects. “we botched the process a little bit.”

“hmm. maybe so. i think being married is a more important skill, though, don’t you?”

“yeah, yeah, you’re the best at being married, where should i send your medal?”

ian’s about to respond with something both sexual and nonsensical when there’s a rapid knock on the door.

“ian,” lip begs, “you gotta let me in there.”

he ushers his brother inside, all three men shuffling to make room in the tiny lavatory.

“you good?”

“yeah, 'course,” lip breathes, doing nothing to convince ian. “you got another cigarette?”

they smoke in silence for a moment, passing the cigarette between them and taking turns blowing smoke through the window.

“is getting married always so fucking hectic?” lip asks, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t think i know half the people here, but they all keep fuckin’ hugging me.”

“yes,” mickey answers simply. “having had more weddings than the both of you, it’s always fucking insane.”

“worth it?” lip wonders, fiddling with his tie. ian reaches out and straightens it.

“yeah,” mickey replies after a moment, turning to unlock the door. “if you want it to be, yeah, it’s worth it.”

#woah hey we're back baby #still shaking the cobwebs from my brain #so i hope this is okay??#this was fun ty!#and ty everyone for being so patient and cool ily #tumblr writing #alcohol tw #food tw

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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

Text

I’m Yours, You’re Mine | 2

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: Smut, future angst

Summary: You’ve always wished to take a more dominant role in bed, but Chan just wasn’t having it. So when you see an opportunity to do just that with Felix, you can’t help yourself. But you soon come to regret your drunken decision for a reason other than that you’d cheated on your boyfriend with his own bestfriend.

Warnings: Cheating, justifying cheating (badly), yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!reader, reader tries to pressure chan into subbing, felix getting pegged in a kitten maid outfit, excessive use of whore and slut and noona, degradation, felix messy

Gif Credit

It was a mistake. You had decided. You were both too drunk and horny to think it through and it was best to forget it all.

Felix, however, refused to drop it which really only cemented in your mind that it’s the right decision to stop this thing before it starts. If he’s kicking up this much fuss about it and you’ve barely done anything, what is he gonna do if you got more involved later? No, it’s over and you’d told him as such. You don’t want him and it had been a mistake.

But at night, when you’re all alone with your thoughts after chan had fucked you and gone to sleep, you can’t help but think of the freckled boy and how he had followed your every order so obediently. You touch yourself every night to the memory of it, how good he sounded touching himself for you. It has become a sort of escapism for you, a way to let out your frustrations every time Chan doesn’t let you take the lead.

It pissed you the fuck off, how condescending he’d sound when telling you to ‘stop messing around, babygirl’ as he proceeds to pin you down and fuck you from behind. Still, you keep trying because maybe if he’d let you have this, you wouldn’t run to other men to satisfy your needs.

"Baby, take a look at this." You call out to Chan who was sitting on the chair next to you, turning your laptop screen towards him so he'd see the costume you were looking at, a cat maid outfit for men. He scrunches his nose at it and laughs, "That's certainly something."

"You don't like it?" You pout and he looks at you incredulously. "You do?"

"I don't know.” You shrug, once again feeling ridiculed. It’s not like you haven’t worn a schoolgirl or a sexy nurse outfit for him before when he’d asked. “I just think you'd look cute in it. And with halloween coming up and everything--"

"I’m gonna stop you right there, baby. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" You whine like a child.

"Because it's embarrassing!"

"But it's halloween, it’s supposed to be crazy. No one will care, they might even like it. I’d really like it.."

"No. Pick something else." He deadpans but you keep pushing. "But I want this!"

Chan gets off his chair and sits on the couch next to you, grabbing your jaw and pulling you close to his face. “Baby, I’m a man, not a toy for you to play with and dress up as you please. You never mentioned any of this stuff before and you can’t just drop this on me now and expect me to do what you please.”

“But why can’t you at least try?”

“I’m not interested.” He answers slowly, emphasizing every word. "Now stop pressing or I'll put your pretty little mouth to better use."

____________________

You’re standing alone in a corner, nursing your drink as you watch the party-goers mingle and have fun, when you suddenly feel someone wrap their arms around you and press up their body against your back. You don’t flinch, already knowing who it is.

“Hey, baby, wanna go out for a bite?” The stupid pickup line only serves to make you more annoyed at the boy behind you and you wince as he digs his fake fangs into the skin of your shoulder. Shrugging the man off, you turn to face him. “I thought strong women made you flaccid.”

The sour smile on his face only lasts for a second before it turns patronizing. “That’s not true. I was very into Kim Possible.” He cups your cheek and leans down close to your face, his nose touching yours. “But I’d fuck Shego too.”

You push his hand away and step back, stopping the kiss he was going for. “Sorry, but this Shego isn’t interested in getting fucked.”

Chan rests his hands on his hips and lets out a heavy sigh. “How long are you gonna stay mad at that?”

“How long is your fragile masculinity gonna keep you from satisfying your girlfriend in bed?”

He steps towards you angrily, getting all up in your face again. “Don’t you dare! I always make you cum.”

“So? I can make myself cum just fine on my own. But what I actually want from you, you’re not giving to me.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” He yells, face turning red as he prepares to launch into his own angry rant when something catches his eyes and he bursts out laughing. “Oh, for fucks sake.”

You look at him in confusion and he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you around. “Take a look at Felix, honey.” He murmurs sardonically.

With narrowed eyes, you search for the blonde among the crowd of people gathered at your apartment, wondering why Chan was stopping your oh-so-important argument for this. But when your eyes land on him, they blow wide open. Felix is dressed in the exact outfit you’d shown Chan wished earlier, complete with the cat eats and the little bell around his neck. He looked perfect.

“Look at how ridiculous he looks.” Chan’s voice cuts into your thoughts as he leans down to jeer in your ear. "And you wanted me to look like that. Hey, maybe Lix will bend over and let you fuck him if you ask."

He says it with the most sarcasm and contempt he can muster before shoving you a little bit forward and walking off. But it’s far from a joke to you. There is nothing funny about the gorgeous boy looking like he just came out of your wildest dreams.

With anger and lust mixing dangerously in your veins, you march straight to Felix, and without even greeting him, you grab him by the arm and pull him into the bathroom that was further into the apartment and lock the both of you inside.

Pushing him against the sink, you grab his hair and force him to look at himself in the mirror. "What is the meaning of this?"

“Noona?” He wonders uneasily, playing innocent.

“How the fuck did you get this?”

“I found it on the internet, noona.”

“Oh, you found it, huh?” You scoff, running your hand over the black and white outfit. “You just happened to find the exact same costume I was showing to Chan a few weeks back?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, noona.” He stares at your reflection through his lashes, doing his best to look meek and clueless. Growling, you shove your hand between his legs, grabbing at his half-hard dick and making him squeal.

“Oh, you don’t, do you? You’re such a fucking whore, Felix.” He moans, bucking his hip into your hand. "You know I belong to your hyung and you're just gonna betray him like that?"

He shakes his head earnestly, "No, noona. I’m not trying to."

"Don't lie. Little whore only thinks with his cock." You hiss, letting your other hand fall from his hair to his chest, your fingers roughly pulling at his nipples through the thin fabric covering them.

“Ah--fuck--noona!” He cries, thrusting his dick against your hand more and more. "I'm a good boy. You know that noona."

“Then what is is?” You pull his skirt up to clearly show his now fully hard dick straining against the panties he’s wearing. And when you do, you stop in your tracks.

"Are those my panties?" You shriek, pushing him flat over the marble countertop and flipping the skirt over his ass so you can see the black panties more clearly. “You fucking creep!”

You hook your thumbs under the waistband and yank the panties down, getting even more of a shock when you see what he has under them.

"Shit." You breathe, momentarily forgetting all about the panties as you stare at the pink butt plug wedged snuggly in his ass. When you reach out and tap the base of it, Felix's legs buckle. “Is this part of the costume too?”

He stays quiet, burying his face into his arms and you scoff. "God, you're such a slut." You grab the plug and pull it back, only to slam it back in all at once. His scream is muffled against his arms but he eagerly pushes his hips back into you.

You take a few seconds to get your breathing under control. Once again you can’t believe what is in front of you. You’ve only dreamt about something like this before, but here is Felix giving it all to you without you even asking. How can you resist?

"Don't move." You hiss in his ear, ignoring his little moan of protest as you pull away and step out of the bathroom.

You get what you want from your room as fast as you possibly can before going back to the bathroom and finding that Felix has actually not stayed still, and is now standing up and nervously fiddling with his fingers.

"Didn't I say to not move?"

"I was afraid someone would come in." He mumbles.

“Afraid people will find out what a whore you are, you mean.” You step in and lock the door behind you before you before you show him what you have in the box you just retrieved.

You smile at his gasp when he sees you pull out the strap you own, the one you never even got to show to Chan before. Cocking your head to the side, you stare at the shaking boy. “You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you, Lixie?”

He nods before you even finish your question. “Of course, noona. You can do whatever you want to me.”

You smirk like you expected nothing less than that, but in reality you were riding high off of the fact that he so easily gave into you without you even needing to coax him. It made you wanna give him everything he asks for.

But Felix’s enthusiasm is dampened a little when he sees you putting the strap-on over your costume. Pouting, he asks you, “You’re not gonna take anything off, noona?”

"I don't need to take anything off to fuck you." You reply simply and he lets out an insolent whine. “But I wanna see your body. I never got to see it up-close.”

Your face turns hard and Felix takes a moment to realize the implication of what he just said. “So you’re saying you’ve seen my body before? Have you been spying on me too, you little shit?”

He stays quiet, staring at the floor.

“You’re such a fucking pervert. I ought to tell Chan about all of this.” You push him around to face the mirror again and press his body against the countertop. “The outfit. The panties. The spying.” You grit, taking the butt plug out of his ass and running your fingertips up and down his open hole.

“No, please don’t tell him.” He whimpers, face pressed against the cool marble.

“Why shouldn’t I? He should know what his precious friend is up to behind his back.” You squeeze some lube over your fingers before you push one inside of him. It goes in easily so you add the second one right away, pressing down as you pump your fingers in and out of his ass.

“Nghh--noona--noona!” He squirms under you, hands grasping to find any purchase over the smooth countertop. “Please, fuck me.”

You can’t really deny him for long, already feeling like you could cream your panties just watching him break down under you. As you push the didlo in, he lets out a loud keen that turns into heavy panting as you start rocking your hips into his.

“Thank you, noona.” His voice is garbled and you pull him up by the hair to make him stand up so you can look at his face while you fuck him. He looks like an absolute mess of drool and flushed cheeks, his dick leaking little drops on the floor.

"What a tiny dick you have, Lixie.” You can't help but stare at it and the leather garter belt he has around his thigh with a metallic heart looped in it. Wrapping your hand his wet dick, you start pumping it as you thrust into his ass. “No wonder you can't dom a girl. I probably have a bigger dick than yours."

“I’m sorry, n-noona. Please use me--ahh--however you want.” He sobs, barely able to hold himself up in your arms.

“Use you for what? You’re a complete mess. You wouldn’t be able to satisfy me even if you tried.” You fuck him harder, quickening the pace of your strokes on his twitching dick and shivering at the sounds that fill up the room, from the snap of your hips against his ass, to the slick sound of you jerking him off, to the whiny moans he's letting loose to the tune of the bell in his choker. “But it’s okay, I’ll just think about this when Channie is fucking my brains out tonight.”

Suddenly his face changes, taking on a dark and sinister hue that makes goosebumps erupt across your skin. But you can’t let him intimidate you. If you can’t even dom Felix then Chan is right not to take you seriously. Besides, if you want to keep this going, you have to have him under a tight leash or else he’ll go rogue and expose the both of you.

"What? You have something to say?" You challenge, but he stays quiet, his lips curled into a mean sneer. "You're just a toy for me and if you want me to keep playing with you, you need to learn your place. Is that understood?"

But Felix doesn’t respond, continuing to stare you down through the mirror.

“You want me to leave you high and dry like last time? Because that’s what you’ll get if you don’t back down, kitten.” You warn him, your thrusts turning from fast and hard to slow and deep, and your grip on his cock tightening. “Come on, who is my good boy?”

Finally, he relents, throwing his head back over your shoulder and moaning out, “I am, noona.”

“Prove it or else I’ll have no use for you.” You smatter stinging kisses all over the side of his neck in retaliation for taking so long, and you feel him gulping under your lips. "Come on, little slut, squirt out that cum for me."

“Yes, noona, just need a little more.” He grunts obediently, thrusting his cock up into your closed fist in time with your own thrusts into his ass. "Aahh--noona--fuck---noona!" His hands reach back and his fingers dig into your flesh as he cums, using his hold on you to keep standing upright.

“That’s it. That’s it.” You coo, taking a bit too long before you stop touching him, letting him suffer the pain of overstimulation for a minute, his eyes blown wide as his mouth hangs open as he stares at you with glazed over eyes in the mirror, his cum dripping down your hand and making a small puddle on the floor under you.

“You’ll keep being a good boy, won’t you, Lixie?” You press a soft kiss under his ear that makes him shiver. Letting the tension out of his body, he relaxes back into your arms and closes his eyes.

“Yes, Noona.”

____________

A/N: next chapter is using one of those remote control vibrators on lixie in public uwu oh and making him watch chan fuck reader :)))))

feedback keeps me going and makes me upload faster like this :))))

#stray kids smut #felix smut #sub!idol #dom!reader #yandere!au

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

umm maybe this is me projecting bc i am messaging you during my break but for a drabble request, yoongi in a retail setting???? 😐😐😐😐 oc could either be a co-worker or a regular customer who asks too many questions 😔😌

retail-type beat

drabble week: day three

drabble week masterlist

pairing: customer!yoongi x retail worker!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second. anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

the last time you checked, work doesn’t start until nine

you kNEW it doesn’t start until 9 in the morning, so clearly that’s why you’re just wearing slides instead of your sneakers

the company uniform is either black or purple (it has to be from what the store is selling though so you can get to choose) with of course!!!! a lanyard!!!!

and you know this, because you’re still wearing your slides from home because it isn’t opening time yet

“goddamn it, i forgot to bring my slippers,” jin moans the moment he walks to see you, looking down on your feet that only reminds him he’d be stuck in his cool yet painfully uncomfy sneakers

he’s probably the only co-worker that you’re truly close with, not feeling the urge to sell him just to get a free day

“i told you to get the sneakers that nurses use!!”

hands-down one of the best purchases you’ve ever made

retail’s hard and it’s not exactly the best-paying job!!! thankfully the franchise owner is a bit more generous so that’s why you get slightly-higher hourly pay

“i would if they looked a little more seasoned,” jin snorts and stubbornly crosses his arms, “i might sacrifice my pride and buy some compression socks.”

OOOOOH THOSE ARE GOOD TOO

makes you feel like ur walking on air

but lol no seokjin isn’t ready to buy those just yet

he’ll settle on some blisters and putting salonpas patches because they look cooler that way, thank u very much <3

jin yawns, talking about finding a steam iron somewhere to replace a blowdryer so he could break in his shoes

“you wipe the glass this time.”

oh right he absolutely hates wiping down the glass — even before opening!!! even when there aren’t any grubby kids that would soil it instantly with their equally as grubby hands

you don’t mind it honestly

you might honestly like it

you prefer wiping the glass a hundred times over than steaming clothes

there is nOT a single thought in your head when you spray on the solution to the glass, rag and squeegee tucked between your fingers when-

maybe you should’ve hOLY FUCKING SHIT

it’s not opening!!!! it is nOT nine o’clock in the morning!!!!

you know that the shop you’re working in is pretty fucking famous and it’s located on one of the most populated streets ever BUT THERE’S ALREADY SOMEONE

although the bucket hat seems familiar from a distance and-

oh it’s just yoongi

yoongi?

yoongi’s already here????

yoongi, the guy in question, is an always customer!!

no, not a regular customer — an always customer

he comes every week and maybe even twice within that period

he’s a nice talkative customer who likes asking questions and even occasionally guides the other customers on what to buy and where to find it

he’s yoongi!!! of course that’s expected of him

he’s been going here long since you ever started working here, and jin keeps iNSISTING that he’s been here more frequently since you started like a year ago

but doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?

“woah, yoongi’s already here? — doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?”

?!!?!!

“i was just thinking the exact same thing.”

jin bangs the glass with his fist and you automatically wince and frown

you dO like cleaning the glass panes!! you didn’t say you liked cleaning them a second time :(

“YOONGI!”

“YES??”

you push jin’s fist away to wipe at the smudge his hand left

“IT’S NOT OPENING YET!”

“I KNOW!!”

wow they’re uh

they’re really loud

sometimes you forget how seokjin could be since it’s been awhile since you heard him yell

lol no one’s been shoplifting recently so you haven’t been hearing him

a mind-blowing idea is for jin to come outside and talk to him in a normal talking voice, so your ears would stop ringing

“HEY! WHAT IF YOU JUST ENTER EARLY IN?”

“REALLY? IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED??”

"YOONGI, EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR KNOWS YOUR NAME. NAMJOON EVEN GAVE YOU A CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFT, AND WE DON'T GIVE CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFTS TO ANY OTHER CUSTOMER!!"

namjoon, who technically should be called mr. kim because no one really thinks to call the franchise owner with their government first name, is actually pretty cool

but he's too busy these days and haven't been visiting because he's too busy tending to his newly-opened coffee shop

as if the money he earns from opening his franchise in a day alone isn’t enough :0

"IF YOU SAY SO?"

you’re the one who hikes up the roll-up door in the slightest, enough for only yoongi to enter and not encourage anyone else to nOT enter when it’s still not opening time!!!!

he only has to crouch a little but he still has to dust his thousand-dollar pants as if he crawled through mud

his cream-colored slacks with a large black hoodie that has a giant bear embroidered on the middle of it and mules

... you don't hate his outfits

pretty cute, actually

it's yoongi!!

you'd never catch him lacking!!!

you don't even have to envision him rocking the shit out a paper bag

one time, he came in the store wearing the WRINKLIEST brown linen jumpsuit that no iron could possibly fix and he still pulled it off

toon-teen-ten!

oh god that’s the sound of the intercom

and the sound of the intercom equates to jungkook

... as in jeon jungkook who’s the floor manager and his constant top one goal for every month is to endearingly annoy seokjin

he’s young and mischievous!! but if you were to ask him, only you and jungkook are the people in this floor he’d actually get drinks with outside the shop

“seokjin come to the lingerie department right now, please.”

you see the thing is :D

“now this is just funny

there’s walkie-talkies for everyone here!! jungkook likes intercoms, and seokjin like yelling!!

“WHY ME AGAIN?? I’VE ALREADY FOLDED-“

“there’s a literal rat and i need yOU to catch it!! you know that i hate rodents!!”

him and jungkook are forever gonna be on this eldest-youngest brother dynamic and while jungkook pouts and shared the extras that he gets, jin is the one who kills the bugs :D

10/10 totally fair

fine then!! he’ll catch that goddamn rat

that leaves you and yoongi. alone.

“why did you come so early this time?”

you ask out of courtesy, genuinely baffled too because you know that yoongi’s a creature of habit

yoongi’s eyes pop out, head fervently shaking no

“i’m typically not the type to do that, no.”

???

is he-

are you-

are you both talking about the same thing

yoongi’s face flushes in embarrassment, his mind just then registering what you were actually saying

“o-oh! it’s because last night, i dreamt of the sweater i saw here last week!!"

oh right

typical :D

"need me to find it for you or do you already know the aisle?"

you align the folded shirts by the corners as you pass, looking at yoongi briefly while he trails behind yoh

“not unless you pulled it out already."

he's hoping that dear god you haven't

the black sweater with the moon aND buildings on it and when you turn on the flash, the windows of said building reflect it right back???

he SHUDDERS just by thinking about it

it’s gonna go with everything!!! an instant boost of serotonin every time he sees it

"for you, yoongi?" you shake your head, a small smile on your face that he only sees every once in a while, "i'd comb through the entire stock room."

wait

that’s sweet :((

“i’ll hold you to that.”

you know what??? you're less cranky when it's only him, and a couple of hundred people less

your smiles aren't for customer-service and you don't have misplaced clothes hanging from your shoulders and your walkie-talkie isn't talking in latin

or when no one’s asking you to reach something from the top shelf

or when you’re on the way to the intercom because a kid got separated from their mother

or when someone’s approaching for a refund for a shirt who has a stain that’s 100% no doubt customer error

his feet immediately move on its own because he’s memorized the outline of this too many times

there it is!!!

the sweater he’s dreamt about is already on his hands, only a handful few left

the piece is considerably more expensive than majority of the items here, so that’s why they’re all spaced-out instead of being clustered altogether

yoongi rarely goes to the dressing room, regardless if it's a full-house or not!!

he could just look at an item and immediately tell that it’s made for him ta know

he's beyond sure that this sweater fits him perfectly, but he may want to be here a little longer

yoongi may have say inside one of the fitting rooms and spent a little time in it just to sit on the chair inside, not fitting the sweater at all

he's gotten his item SO quick and he wished he could've just walked slower or pretended to not know where it was!!!

he wants to spend a little more time here

you don't hate yoongi!!! but sometimes he could just be... yoongi

he's quite talkative and strikes it whenever, making you unguarded

he could be overbearing but like an overbearing kind of nice

yoongi’s nice!! he’s the type to ask a lot of questions sure, but he’s also the type that would point the other customers what to buy and where to find it

he’s the type to find an obvious faulty stitch on a shirt, but he’d just quietly exchange it instead of asking for the manager

he’s the type you wouldn’t want to stand behind in line because it would take a long time for him to finish, but he’s also the same one who buys giftcards with generous amounts for family and friends

yoongi’s kind of cool and that’s cemented on your mind

"what do you got for me?"

he materializes out of nowhere, spooked because you thought he already ringed up and was out of the store already

it just happens to be ten minutes before opening and you’re doing last-minute arrangements on a new spread

well, yoongi most certainly is still here and his attention’s piqued

“we have... a new collection."

you clear your theory, awkwardly gesturing because you’re more than aware that yoongi hasn’t seen this either

“yeah, i know that. but like, what's going on??" he gestures to the displays and racks, squinting his eyes, "what's the theme? what's the material?"

uhm you haven't read the brief about this

you aren't even sURE if there is one!!

doesn't everyone make up something on the spot in retail

or atleast that’s what seokjin tells you

“the theme," you clear your throat, scratching your temple before gesturing towards the full rack, "is everything."

“everything?

yoongi’s eyebrow is raised, not expecting that answer at all

you look back to the new feature, and nOW that you think about it,, there's no cohesion at all

“y-yes. the shop was going for the theme of uhm, everything... all at once — yeah, that's it. everything all at once."

it’s a nice way to put it when not one bit of the new collection goes together

“hmmmm. i like it,” yoongi nods solemnly and tilts his head, “and the material?"

"the material?"

you repeat, eyesight not the best so you can’t really tell anything off the bat or uh aNYTHING really

"t-the material is shirt."

they're all shirts!!! that’s it

yoongi grimaces in disgust, the first time you’ve seen of it

“what?? you can't say that.”

he outsretches his hand to the nearest article, holding it up by the hanger

"this, right here, is satin. see how it shines like silk, but doesn't feel like silk?"

uhm yes

you have a gist of what he’s saying but yes

yoongi picks up a pink button shirt this time, flipping it inside out

"this, is silk charmeuse. look at the inside, is it smooth?"

okay where is he going with this

he urges you to put your hand on the fabric and uhhh you didn't sign up for this???

it looks smooth, sure!! end of discussion

"yea-..."

“it's not. it's rough. it is smooth, but it's dull. silk charmeuse is still silk, but the backing it has is different from the lustrous part."

okay yoongi

you’re starting to feel uncomfortable and it has to do something with the tone he’s using on you

“can't believe you didn't know that!! how about this," he plucks out a shirt with a tiny print at the middle of it, "cotton or polyester and rayon?"

"i don't-"

there’s an itch in your neck that you want to scratch, a tell-tale sign that you just wANT to remove yourself from this situation

“come on!! it's a dead giveaway!!"

:((

why is he being like this?

toon-teen-ten!

“y/n, panty section please. jin almost got bit by a mouse and he needs comforting. two minutes until opening, people!!"

jungkook speaks at the right moment, and jin’s little incident is enough of a reason for you to bolt

yoongi's still looking at you but you can't afford to embarrass yourself further

“bye. happy shopping."

huh?

yoongi’s face falls when you leave as cold as that!! typically when you were going to show him out (when it’s regular shop hours), there’d be a smile :((

there's not even a customer service smile :(((

yoongi goes to the only cashier that's open so far and it happens to be far away from you and a teary seokjin

seokjin's fine he didn't even get bit!! that much he could say

but are you okay? uhhh you kinda went cold on him by the end and he thought he started on a good note

yoongi doesn't visit for another week and you don't find yourself counting the days until you meet him again

you did not have a devil wears prada moment where anne hathaway has an epiphany for fashion knowledge

you just felt belittled at a job that isn’t exactly what you wanted anyways

needed, yes. but wanted? not exactly

you know that basic knowledge about clothes is required in a retail job like this and you have it!! you do!!!!

you’d know more if only there were actual available resources for employees to know!!! nobody besides yoongi asks anyways

you’d know if you have time to yourself and aren’t working two jobs trying to make ends meet and tHEN you could pull up a book or something!!!

you’d know if your life is as lax as yoongi’s and could have the budget to buy new things for yourself every single week

“jin, i need to ask you something.”

he hums as called, looking at you briefly until you get on with it

“do you know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse?"

he shrugs casually while you're sitting inside one of the closed-off fitting rooms to catch a break, sharing a burger because the store’s packed-packed

why did you ask him? it’s too easy

“one's made by worms, and the other's a pokémon."

that,.,., could not possibly be righti* it brings you a laugh and you honestly don’t even try to correct him

it’s 11:15 and you kNOW it’s time to resume your shift, straightening your shirt because atleast one (1) person would hound you when they see a familiar red lanyard

oh you’re hounded alright

“hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second.”

yoongi????

you haven’t seen him for a week and you don’t know what to feel in all honesty

"anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

wow

you're quite speechless as he holds up the item

really?

this thing all over again???

why are you even surprised

the only thing that yoongi gets your customer service smile, fishing your hand from inside the sweater to show him

“70% wool."

that's it???

NO GOOD MORNING????

you're mad at him, aren't you?

he knew it :((

he knew something was wrong but he just didn’t know what

he’s gonna fix this!! he will

which is why the very next day, he takes the day off from his work and comes to the store at a time he knows you’d surely be there

you're on cashier duty and you like it actually :D

you have an option to sit and the way you’re just gonna scan pricetags (and occasionally enter the code if it doesn’t work) is really appealing

“good morning!"

you’re about to grab the items from the basket laid on the counter and your eyes could only see the very familiar hand

the same one you’ve seen go through racks and racks

yoongi??

he sets his items one by one, buying himself more time

the first one is the same exact sweater he came to wait for before opening

“you already bought this."

you tell him even before you could hold it back, looking back at him briefly before you scan the tag

“i know. i just wanted to see you."

yoongi threw a bunch of other items (individually) so it would be a longer talk, but you scan each item quickly that he’s grabbing things from the counter

hand sanitizer!!! hair ties!!! keychains!!!! yeah he needs them

“i'm sorry that i tend to spring shit on you most of the time. you don't need to know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse."

you only chuckle then, a meek smile on your face

"it's okay, yoongi.”

“it's not."

... it’s not?

yoongi fidgets, opening and closing his mouth like he’s nervous!!! he’s never had his credit card cancelled but he could only feel that this type of jitterness is more than the former

“can i make it up to you? no lanyards, no baskets, no customer service?? i don't wanna fuck things up with you."

“don't feel obligated-"

“i know i could be a condescending ass who expects people to automatically know fabric and whatnot, but i wanna make it up to you."

alright yoongi’s a really good apology-maker

you mIGHT be even flustered a little

“you're holding the line, yoongi.”

“i cleared my schedule."

“i haven’t!!!!!” - guy in the back

“dinner at my place at 8. i-i promise to make your hard-earned break after your shift worthwhile!!!"

hmmm

maybe that wouldn’t hurt

“okay. just because you're holding the line."

“fine by me."

:))

yoongi transfers all the items he bought, all but one, to his tote bag

he hands back the paper bag to you, scribbling his address on the back of the receipt before he does

he lingers a little while at the counter, the people behind him ALREADY switching lanes to the one seokjin’s just opened beside you

it's the sweater that he has too

yoongi scratches the back of his head, this time being the meek one

“what? m-matching sweaters for our first date. s'cute."

#drabble week #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagines #yoongi oneshots #yoongi oneshot #yoongi drabble #yoongi drabbles #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi scenarios #yoongi headcanon #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

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21burritoseavey · 3 years

Text

good memories - daniel seavey imagine

a/n: okayy this one’s kinda cutee but a little long. i hope you enjoy tho, let me know what you think bestiess.

The vibrant city streets were bustling with swift footed individuals, from drunk teenagers to kids holding the hands of their parents as they plodded down the pavement. The young couple walked briskly, with Y/n nearly skipping in pure joy as they weaved through the crowded footpaths with their hands interlocked. Y/n’s red, lace up Dr. Martens clicked on the ground before she stopped abruptly at the end of the line for the club, her eclectic dress swayed with the light evening breeze gracefully and her striking figure caught the eye of Daniel who stumbled clumsily beside her.

“You ready to have some fun?” He asked cheekily, raising a brow.

“Yeah, really excited!” Y/n said quickly, her tone filled with glee. Daniel smiled lovingly at her before leaning in to press a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“You deserve it.” he whispered.

They stood impatiently among other groups of young college and high school students, talking and giggling quietly to each other. The gentle, dusk sky lifted to reveal an ombre of blue before they were finally at the front of the line. They politely unveiled their IDs to the bouncer and were quickly waved through the doorway into the club.

Y/n quickly noticed the neon signs above, strobing the dark niterie with bright colours and she almost tumbled into the giddy darkness from sheer excitement, pulling Daniel’s arm who was a few paces behind her. Daniel chuckled at Y/n’s obvious eagerness. “Y/n” he glared at her jokingly, “we have all night.” He reminded gently, but Y/n merely looked up at him with furrowed brows and continued for the bar.

“So…Let’s make the most of it.” She replied cleverly. Daniel only pulled a gentle smile at her. The club was crowded from wall to wall with tons of energetic individuals on barstools and several couches and chairs were spaced out in the large area. “Do you wanna grab a drink?” Y/n asked enthusiastically over the loud music that was blowing through the speakers.

“Hey, I’m supposed to ask you that” Daniel glared mischievously, and they both chuckled as they took the two remaining seats behind the bar. “Two tequilas please” Daniel asked the bartender and looked back at Y/n after receiving a small nod from the young man.

“We definitely gotta dance after this. I don’t care what you say” Y/n spoke seriously, gesturing to the busy dance floor behind them. Daniel put his hands up swiftly in defeat.

“Okay, okay! Fine.”

He pulled a tight smile as the bartender slid their drinks across the wood topped bar. “Cheers,” Daniel lifted his small glass to meet Y/n’s. “To us” He finished, and Y/n chuckled lightly.

They clinked their glasses, tilted their heads, and downed the shots of tequila. Y/n scowled as she swallowed the shot, sending a loud laugh to escape from Daniel’s lips and Y/n frowned at him light-heartedly. They both slowly took in the aura of the nightclub from their spots on the wooden barstools, giggling and talking to each other organically with nothing but genuine affection flowing between them.

As Y/n promised, the young couple - after a little hesitation from Daniel, claiming he couldn’t dance to save a life - finally made their entrance onto the dance floor. Y/n trudged onto the round dance floor, encircled by various groups of mingling people. She pulled Daniel’s arm and he reluctantly started moving to the beat of music. Y/n’s floral dress billowed out around her as she twirled and danced ever so gracefully, and Daniel soon found himself acting more comfortably in the precious presence of his girlfriend. Despite the abundance of people around them, the young couple simply danced like nothing else mattered, relishing in the freeing euphoric sensation they felt- a wonderful moment suspended in time. The DJ lights launched every possible shade of the rainbow into the darkness and Daniel and Y/n burnt the night away with plentiful shots that burned their throats, dancing and singing.

As tiredness slowly took over and the young couple weren’t as energetic to dance and belt the lyrics to songs as loudly as they could, Daniel took Y/n’s hand and led her gradually back to the bar. “Oh my gosh, Y/n, I have never been so…” Daniel paused in thought, ��-Tired…” he dragged out tiredly.

“I know” Y/n chuckled, “but aren’t you so glad we went out tonight?” She asked, expectantly looking up at him as she wobbled onto her seat.

Daniel nodded eagerly as he plopped down on the barstool again. Y/n wiped her damp forehead with the back of her hand and looked at Daniel, noticing his slight trance on her. Daniel’s eyes lingered on Y/n’s cute figure. Her light brown space buns sat haphazardly on her head and even though she was utterly exhausted, Daniel thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He raised his arm to the wooden ring underneath the seat and dragged her stool over to his easily, placing a kiss or two on her lips. Y/n giggled softly as he pulled back and tried to ignore the growing fuzzy feeling in her stomach.

“Do you wanna go now?” She asked shyly. Daniel nodded lightly as he caressed her hand in his. They stood up and Y/n went to grab her coat before Daniel pulled her back casually and took it. “Thank you” she said quietly as she grabbed her purse.

“You’re welcome.” He kissed her forehead gently. They had burst through the doors into the artificial glow of street lamps, staggering onto the cement pavement with alcohol still buzzing in their system. Daniel draped an arm over Y/n protectively as they passed groups of people in a lamp-lit alley.

They finally found their way to a diner, eager to fill their stomachs with good food. The dark atmosphere transitioned into lively hues as the young couple were welcomed into the roadside diner and they took a moment to adjust to the lighting, taking in the comforting aroma of a late-night supper that filled their senses. The restaurant housed tons of customers in late hours of the night, buzzing with chatter and the familiar clattering of tableware. Daniel tenderly pulled his hand out of Y/n’s grasp as they took a seat in one of the booths, pulling out a laminated menu from behind the napkin dispenser. Y/n shifted in her seat, glaring at Daniel as if she knew what he was about to say. “I’m gonna-” She started seriously.

“No, you’re not” Daniel said easily without looking up, hiding his smirk behind the menu.

“Daniel.’ Y/n said tiredly, “you don’t have to pay for everything.” She said playfully, cracking a smile.

“I do today.” Daniel looked up at her fondly. “You deserve it.” He grabbed her hand in his from across the counter and brought it up his lips to kiss it gently. “You’re my beautiful, hardworking girl” He spoke adoringly, eyes lingering at Y/n. A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, and she hid her face in her hands, giggling bashfully and a wide grin emerged on Daniel’s face too. His gaze remained on her, thinking about the past hours - the simple, sweet memory destined to take its place in his album of good memories.

#daniel seavey #daniel seavey imagines #daniel seavey fanfic #corbyn besson #jack avery #jonah marais #zach herron #wdw #why don't we imagines #why don't we #why dont we fanfic

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flippyspoon · 3 years

Text

Walking Home

Note: Okay it’s a boring title. Just a little ficlet about Steve being very cold and eager to get home to Billy who will angrily take care of him lol.

Steve could no longer feel his fingers.

Had he coherent thought in his mind, he might have considered that impulsively loaning his car to Mrs. Henderson had been a bad idea in the dead of winter. But Dustin’s mom had been stuck and he hated to think of her waiting around for rides in the snow or borrowing some unreliable beater from Rex Auto while she waited for her Oldsmobile to get fixed.

Steve had handed her his keys hours ago in the middle of Family Video and she’d practically burst into tears, she was so grateful.

Then he forgot all about it, worked the rest of his shift, bid Robin and Keith goodbye and finished up the register and locked up by himself. They were long gone by the time he remembered and the video store was already locked up and the alarm was set and he couldn’t unlock the alarm once it was set to go back inside without getting in trouble with “corporate” because it was a computerized system and they’d see it on the log later. Robin’s mother would happily have given him a ride. Keith would have given him a ride in his shitty brown Datsun that smelled like cheese puffs.

He could have called Billy for a ride, but it was eight blocks to the first payphone he could think of and since everything was closed, he’d end up waiting in the snow for Billy to come crawling up in the Camaro, the worst car in the world for driving on ice roads, so he had to drive very slow. He calculated that it would be faster to walk and hoped somebody would see him and pick him up.

But nobody saw him.

It was a Friday and that meant Family Video closed late at ten and most of the shops were closed, especially with the awful weather. No one was out on the street. and it was so dark and the visibility so bad with the snow, Steve feared he’d lose his way even following the road down into the woods to Hop’s old trailer overlooking the lake where he lived with Billy.

It was a much longer walk than he remembered it being in the fall when the weather was nice.

Three miles? Four?

It was deadly dark and much too quiet and all he thought about as he put one foot in front of the other was how he wished he had his bat at least. It was an eerie night: he couldn’t stop thinking of monsters.

He lost his footing three times and got wet with snow. He was wearing a thermal under a sweater under his best parka. He was wearing a beanie and decent gloves and thick socks under his boots. He felt like he might as well have been wearing a towel for how cold he was. The cold was tiny knives bulleting his skin. The cold had a vendetta. The inside of his nose ached.

One foot in front of the other down the endless dark road. But the woods...

Don’t think about monsters.

Think about Billy.

Billy Billy Billy. Billy would be home. Billy would be pissed as hell that Steve had not only loaned out his car but forgotten to call for a ride earlier. Then he wouldn’t have had to wait at all.

Billy would make him drink a shot of whiskey while cussing out Mrs. Henderson under his breath (even though he actually loved Mrs. Henderson now). Maybe he’d rub Steve’s hands and kiss his fingers with his warm, warm lips…

Billy…

The snow wouldn’t stop. It would hit his ankles soon, even in the road.

He wondered if he would get frostbite. How long did that take? Most winters these days, he successfully carted himself from heated shelter to heated shelter. He didn’t worry about things like frostbite. He couldn’t feel his fingers…

And then suddenly he was home.

He didn’t even remember turning off onto the sideroad into the woods that led to their trailer. He was on automatic pilot. And then there the trailer was with it’s bright yellow light on in front that made the icicles that hung from the porch awning glitter. His boots crunched in the snow as he passed the frozen lake.

Only now as he came nearer and nearer the steps up to their front door did he feel the terrible ache in his legs. His feet were two giant cement blocks for all he could tell.

Crunch crunch.

“Steve! Christ!” The door burst open and Billy came running down the stairs. “Where is your car! You did not seriously walk home! Why didn’t you call me! What the hell!”

Steve said something along the lines of: “Hh-huh...uh...ugh.”

Billy all but carried him inside. Steve wasn’t sure. He just felt Billy’s arms around him and seconds later the front door was shut behind him and-

“Ah.” Steve stood frozen in their tiny living room with the ugly brown shag carpeting and the second hand burgundy velour couch and the Sinclair’s old TV with wood paneling. He was home.

He was safe at home with Billy.

He was violently shuddering. He couldn’t speak for how hard his teeth chattered as Billy moved in a blur. Steve was hardly aware of it. He never moved from his spot, but somehow most of his clothes came off. Billy had fluffy clean clothes straight from the dryer.

“Y-your sw-sweatshirt,” Steve stuttered as Billy shoved it over his head. Billy had a gigantic old Los Angeles Raiders sweatshirt that Steve stole whenever he got the chance because it was the coziest thing in the world to wear and often smelled like Billy. It was kind of like wearing Billy himself. He hummed in relief and then faltered because Billy was moving his feet for him, dressing him in sweatpants and then thick fuzzy socks.

“Sit the hell down!” Billy commanded, and pointed at the couch. “Goddammit. The Beamer get stuck?”

“M-Mrs...Henderson n-needed it-”

“You had to loan your car to that cow in a blizzard!”

“B-be nice!”

“Why didn’t you call!” Billy bodily moved Steve to the couch where he plopped down, still rather stiff.

“I forgot.”

“Harrington, I swear to God!” Billy glowered down at him where he winced as he curled up on the couch, rubbing his still freezing hands together. “ Stay there!” He threw the little afghan throw that Mrs. Henderson herself had made for them over Steve’s head before running out of the room with one last: “Goddammit!”

***

“Sure you’re okay there, baby?” Billy rasped.

Steve was wrapped in three blankets, a hot mug of spiked cocoa in his hands which had fully regained feeling. He was cuddled up on the couch with Billy, who would not remove his arm from around Steve’s shoulders. David Letterman was on TV.

“I’m fine,” Steve said for the fifth time. “I swear, I’m fine. But you’re really cute when you’re worried.”

“If you don’t remember to call next time, I swear to God…” But the threat was slightly undercut by the kiss he pressed to Steve’s cheek. “Be more careful, sweetheart. Alright? Jesus. Gonna drive me to an early grave and I’ve already died once.”

“Wow, you love me so much,” Steve said, smirking into his cocoa. “It’s kind of annoying really. You should get a life.”

Billy only snorted at that and tugged on one of Steve’s blankets, pulling it half over himself and snuggling up closer to his boyfriend. “I was about to call the National Guard when you were running late. Look what you turned me into, pretty boy. How’s that whiskey cocoa? You want me to turn the heat up? You want some more mac and cheese?”

“It’s eighty degrees in here and I’m full. Everything is good,” Steve murmured, and took another swallow that pleasantly burned going down. He set the mug on the coffee table and cuddled deeper under the blanket as he reached for Billy. “But you’re better. C’mere and warm me up some more.”

“Oh, I’ll warm you up any time you want,” Billy said, a bit of growl in his voice. He wrapped his arms around Steve under the blanket and kissed him deeply, and Steve revelled in the heat of that talented tongue that Billy so often used to tease. They made out lazily for a bit and then Billy laid soft little kisses along Steve’s throat and then took Steve’s hands in his own and kissed his fingertips.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Steve said. He beamed up at Billy who stared fixedly back at him as if, should he look away, Steve might vanish into the dark and snowy night again.

Worth the walk home, Steve thought, and reached up under Billy’s sweater to press his fingers to the warm belly he found there.

“Yeah well, I love you like crazy, but it’s a pain in the ass sometimes,” Billy said, but he didn’t try to hide the smile on his face. “Come here, baby, lemme really warm you up,” he said, and pulled Steve closer.

#harringrove #harringrove ficlet

132 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

the sex party: i

(r18+)

shinsou hitoshi x reader

ao3

part 1 (you’re here!) || part 2

word count: ~7.1k

You and Hitoshi definitely have a thing for each other, but who would've thought that a 'sex party' would produce a confession?

warnings:

COLLEGE AU! characters are explicitly aged up to college students as early 20 year olds!

not really a sex party, mutual pining, friends to lovers, confessions, reader is canonically bi, brief momo x reader, light dom/sub, spanking, references to drug use, smoking (cigarettes, salem trademarked fic thing), drinking, and smut

there is a scene where there is attempted sexual assault. it is marked with ***** before and after.

---------

this.... this piece is a monster. i’ve been wrestling with it for a month and now its here for y’all. the second part is already out ;^)) thank you to @keiqos for being an absolute king and beta reader this monster. enjoy y’all!!

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You never imagined that you would be where you were. It was under weird circumstances, but god if you weren’t going to try and enjoy it.

The party you found yourself attending was lit with flashing lights and rainbow projections. There were two different DJs on various floors of the suburban mansion. They bumped out remixed club music, making the walls hum and thrum and bodies writhe and sweat. One of the kitchen counters was loaded with bottles and bottles of hard liquor and mixers.

You were quickly making a third mixie. Just a vodka soda, boringly. There were certainly more fun options, but you weren’t exactly sure how to feel about this party just yet. You were having trouble discerning whether this was a ‘gin and tonic millennial’ party or a ‘jungle juice in an old cooler’ party.

Denki and Jiro had convinced nearly two car-fulls of your friends to roll up. It sounded so fun, so wild!

“Yo! Our friends from the EDM scene are throwing a SEX party! You all should come! It’s at a mansion across town!”

Their ‘friends’ were two middle-aged, white hippies who did a lot of molly for their age.

Nonetheless, you found yourself in a massive, odd house and managed to lose your friends fairly quickly (and accidentally). All the rooms stayed dimly lit and loud. You could hardly keep track of your own two feet.

Someone pressed you into the counter, a hand grazing against your barely covered ass.

You whipped around, watching as a couple walked away, one of them giving incredibly loud bedroom eyes.

Oh yeah, the ‘sex party’ part.

It wasn’t a kink party, or really a sex party at all. Sex was encouraged and provided for, but not necessary. The mansion’s massive attic was where most of the sex acts were happening with its five beds, three bondage rigs, a wall of toys of all types, condoms, lube, whippits, and even Viagra in decorative bowls. You had yet to venture up, but Denki had already spammed the group chat about it.

(It had been the first place he went upon arriving.)

You took your drink down the stairs (the place had three fucking basements) and turned into a small hallway that led outside.

It was cold, but your somewhat drunk body hardly minded. The sobering bite of wind gave a nice reprieve from the thrumming heat inside.

You immediately spotted Hitoshi leaning on a retaining wall, half a cigarette hanging from his lips. His face lit up, when he saw you, waving you over.

You smiled back at him, glad to find a friend and best of all Hitoshi.

You two were quite close.

In addition to both being sociology majors and having a lot of overlap when it came to classes, you’d known each other since freshman year and only grew closer with time. You’d spent many nights at his house off-campus, sipping cup after cup of black coffee in the midst of a paper writing and studying. You also definitely didn’t ever have close calls of affection though, no.

No.

Never.

You and Hitoshi were obviously just friends.

...

“Wild party, huh?” Hitoshi quirked an eyebrow, nodding to the house. He offered you a cigarette that you took greedily.

You placed it between your lips, Hitoshi ever so casually leaning forward to light it with his signature clipper. He’d nabbed it off some ‘milf’ at the casino which he and Denki had gone to for bingo ‘for the meme’ freshmen year.

You let out a puff, “Thank you! And yes, very wild. I’m on drink three and I still feel overwhelmed.”

Hitoshi sipped his own, nodding in agreement, “I know Jiro and Denki know some wild people from the scene, but this seems over the top.”

“It is kind of fun? But definitely an ‘I need to be a little more fucked up’ kind of fun,” You remarked.

You set down your cigarette on the cement wall, attempting to boost yourself up onto it. You nearly had it, except you really didn’t and slipped back down. You anxiously turned around, checking your dress over for any sort of tears.

Hitoshi set down his own cigarette, standing in front of you. You looked up at him and felt very small and very horny all of a sudden. It certainly wasn’t an abnormal set of feelings, given how the two of you teased each other relentlessly.

“Need some help there?” He chuckled at your struggle as you frowned up at him.

“If you insist.” You expected him to offer a hand to stabilize yourself on but no, Hitoshi’s big hands were suddenly grabbing at your waist, lifting you on the walls with little effort.

You swore you almost felt him squeeze you before letting go.

“You’re welcome,” Hitoshi just smirked as he returned to his spot, taking a deep drag to look at you through lowered lids.

You glared, but in good fun.

At that moment, a few other of your friends poured from the door to the patio. They were all shouting, jarring and drunk, and very happy to see the two of you.

You unconsciously shifted a bit closer to Hitoshi on the wall, bare leg just barely touching his shoulder.

You didn’t notice it, but Hitoshi definitely leaned into you too.

“(Y/N)! Hitoshi!” Momo addressed you firmly as Denki and Hanta snickered behind her. “You both are smarter than to smoke, aren’t you?”

“Nope,” You popped the word from your mouth to take another drag.

“We’re drunk, give it a rest,” Hitoshi waved his hand dismissively. You were both her friends, but she did have a pole up her ass sometimes.

Almost to emphasize the point, Jiro withdrew her own pack and started offering to other people.

As the ever-important smoking ritual continued, you couldn’t help but shiver from the now-painful gusts of wind. You abruptly hopped off of the wall, only wobbling a little on your heels as you hit the ground. Hitoshi moved to steady you, a firm hand on your shoulder.

(God, you wanted to melt into him.)

See, Hitoshi had been smart enough to wear a warm outfit. A pair of black jeans, a form-fitting, well-cut sweater, and a jacket which was slung over his arm.

He offered it to you, eyebrow raised, “If you’re cold, you’re welcome to this. I’m gonna stash it when I get inside anyways.”

You shook your head, pushing back on his arm, feeling the hard muscle beneath. You almost shivered. “No, no it’s okay. I’m gonna head back in.”

“Mind if I tag along then?” Hitoshi asked, eyes scanning around you. He seemed well aware that there were some creeps at this party.

Most of the time, you wouldn’t feel great about needing some tall, beefy dude to casually stand around as a deterrent. But, honestly? You appreciated it immensely.

“Right this way, smokestack,” You just had to give him shit, it was part of your cute dynamic right?

(It made the incessant flirting easier to hide.)

...

You couldn’t help but continually notice how Hitoshi had bulked up. He had been hitting the gym a lot and working on himself physically.

God, did it show.

His body had been a bit lanky and wiry before, but he’d filled out so well. With his cute sweater on, you could see how the fabric stretched tight around his biceps and his chest. You couldn’t look at his forearms in any setting or risk drooling all over yourself.

Not that you would mind drooling for Hitoshi, but you’d prefer it to be in a different context.

(But, you’d never admit that.)

The two of you wordlessly winded through the house, finding a somewhat less feral living room in one of the basements to relax in. Most everyone occupying the space was just mingling, save for a few couples making out. It seemed manageable. You settled for a spot on the carpet against a wall.

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“I feel way safer sitting on a floor than a couch here,” You couldn’t help smiling when you saw him snuff out his own amusement.

You both watched as a couple was grinding and audibly moaning on one of the aforementioned couches. Hitoshi relented, “Point taken.”

He slid down the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, drinks in hand.

You both sat in silence for a minute, just taking the sounds and sights of the party. People-watching could have been an olympic sport at this shindig.

“Hey,” Hitoshi broke the mild tension, tapping your upper thigh over your dress. “I’m not saying this to be a creep, really, I promise. But, I really like your dress.”

You turned your body slightly, towards him. Oh, now you needed to give him shit— “Oh, how complementary. Not creepy at all. Just my very sweet, male friend telling me how I look pretty in my party dress.”

Hitoshi leaned closer to you, mirroring you by lying half on his side. His breath and heat curled over your face and neck, “Oh, (Y/N), now you’re putting words in my mouth. I said that I like your dress. Because it’s one of Mei’s designs, right?”

You looked down, heat filling your cheeks.

Fuck your drunk mouth.

“Though,” Oh, Hitoshi was closer. He had leaned to your ear, steadying a hand on your shoulder. “I do think you’re pretty in this dress. I’d use a different word instead of pretty though.”

“Like?”

“Mmmm, gorgeous,” He hummed too casually. “As strong of a word as I can use without being a creep, right?”

“‘Toshi,” You groan, swatting his hand away. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

He just beamed at you, “I’ve been told.”

Hitoshi drew back and met your eyes.

Once more, you mirrored each other. Both of you bore comically dilated pupils, wet lips, flushed faces and slight tremors in your hands.

“You know, I think I referred to you as ‘sweet’ too...” You raised an eyebrow at him. You couldn’t help the way your gaze flickered down to his lips. It flitted back up, “But, that’s nothing, right?”

Hitoshi bit his lip, taking a big breath.

Suddenly, he was standing up.

“Hey, wait—” You stammered, standing as well. “I’m sorry, that was a lot. I only meant to tease.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Hitoshi put his hands in front of himself, creating distance between the two of you. “Same. You know I can’t help giving you trouble, (Y/N).”

Ouch.

You cracked a smile, rubbing your arms, “Of course, yeah. Silly friend shit.”

Hitoshi was quick to redirect, pointing a thumb out of the room, “I’ve gotta hang this somewhere. See you in a bit, or you can come with me if you like?”

“Nah, I’ll wander,” You patted his shoulder, waltzing off your churning gut by cutting in front of him. “Take it easy, smokestack.”

You couldn’t hear if he replied.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

You did, in fact, wander. With meandering feet, you moved through room after room. You poured yourself another drink, but it’s not nearly as strong. Your run-in with Hitoshi soured your mood. While not fully ruined, you were definitely feeling weirder than you wanted to be.

Hitoshi and you obviously had energy, yeah. But the most either of you had acted on it was ‘seemingly meaningless’ flirting. It was always followed up with a ‘no homo’ or ‘aha, got ‘ya!’, yet it always felt real in the moment. You weren’t a dumbass. You had caught Hitoshi eyeing you a few (read: many) different times. There were so many close calls and contacts between the two of you.

There was one time while you were making a box of mac and cheese in Hitoshi’s kitchen circa 2 AM. You had borrowed one of his shirts and a pair of joggers to sleep in, a common act of yours. He walked past you for a glass of water, keeping the cup under the tap until it ran over just to look you up and down.

His gaze wasn’t prying or predatory, not even close. You trusted Hitoshi with your life and you knew that he wouldn’t ever breach boundaries like that. Rather, he regarded you in a way that made him lose time, something soft and gooey in his eyes. That time, it wasn’t lustful attention. It just felt-

(Like the way lovers look at one and other, enamored.)

Another time was during one of his performances. The house venue had been dimly lit and musty as fuck, but that didn’t distract Hitoshi. As Jiro’s vocals shook the basement, you met eyes with Hitoshi as he slammed on guitar. His gaze always returned to you throughout the whole set. When you had teased him about it, he claimed that looking at you helped keep his stage fright in check.

The reasoning didn’t calm the butterflies in your stomach.

There was another particularly telling occurrence where you had fallen asleep on Hitoshi’s floor in the middle of working on your final paper for your theory class the semester prior. He returned from his smoke break to find you curled up under the first piece of cloth you could find (which, in that case, was one of his hoodies). You weren’t fully asleep, and you certainly weren’t when Hitoshi hefted you into his arms, laying you so gently down on his bed and covering you with a throw blanket.

Oh, god, the sweetness, like something you’d never known when you felt his hand on your face, smoothing over your cheekbones, your nose, and then your lips. His gentle voice, deep with the late-night, “You work too hard, you know.”

He nestled next on the floor next to the bed, leaving you to sleep undisturbed the rest of the night.

There were, of course, many more instances of Hitoshi’s way-too-kind kindness, and a pile of your own moments as well.

It was all damning, but relatively ignored. Your friendship was more important than any stupid feelings the two of you had right? You refused to acknowledge your own feelings beyond semi-sexual remarks, jabs, and jests. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, right?

...

You eventually found yourself at the foot of the stairs that led to the attic. Even from the landing, you could hear various rhythmic slaps, moans, and laughter.

You ascended the stairs and took in the sight greeting you.

There were various bondage rigs that were free-standing, all occupied at the moment you entered. Loops for ropes and chains to be tied to drilled into the ceiling. Flogs, whips, canes, and other implements hung heavy on one of the walls.

The room was lit dimly, yet nothing seemed obscured. A few rainbow lights illuminated the sweaty bodies about the room. Not everyone was having full-on sex. Most people were actually clothed. A lot of folks it seemed were just there spectating.

Speaking of most people, your party peers were all lounging on the beds. Sans, Hitoshi, of course, standing and laughing with Kaminari.

The lot saw you enter and flagged you down. You walked past a heavily-tattooed man getting pegged by a woman in a tutu and a crowd of costumed partygoers doing whippits which were being handed out by a man in an elaborate steampunk top hat. A cute girl with silver hair was strung up in a nearby rig, moaning as a leather-clad man fingerfucked her.

You stood next to Hitoshi, bumping into his arm with your own, “Didn’t take you for a voyeur.”

He snorted, joshing you back, “I have my moments.”

“I didn’t take you for a prude, (Y/N)!” Denki snickered, bringing attention to you. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost when you walked in here.”

“Denki, please,” You rolled your eyes. “I walked into a room made for very wild sex acts. That’s a very different expression than the one you’re describing.”

That made him snort and fall back onto the bed, along with Hanta and Mina.

(How high were they? That wasn’t even a good joke.)

Hitoshi chuckled himself, something low and lumbering.

(Don’t think about how hot that is.)

“This makes me think back to that night, in sophomore year,” Hanta spoke as he sat up. “You know, kink night.”

“Oh, yeah! I forget about that,” Denki turned towards you and Hitoshi and raised his eyebrows.

You flushed.

Momo, innocently, asked, “Kink night?”

Hitoshi cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you.

“Oh yeah!” Mina piped up, hugging Momo’s shoulders from behind. Jiro was sitting in Momo’s lap, head on her tits. “We made a drinking game of exposing our weird sex acts and kinks to each other.”

You laughed uncomfortably at the memory, avoiding the very embarrassing and horny part that involved you, “That was the day that we found Mineta was into scat.”

“Oh wow,” Jiro gawked. “That was before Mineta got canceled?”

“Oh, yeah. He got wasted and ran off after that. Thank god.” Denki snickered. “You know what else happened that night?”

“Denki, please, stop talking.” It was Hitoshi placing a firm hand on the other’s shoulder.

Denki just looked at the two of you like he was some old god of mischievous, turning back to the girls, “That’s when we all found out about Hitoshi and (Y/N)’s suuuuuuuuuper compatible kinks. Like, scary compatible.”

“They got sooooo awkward about it too!” Mina snickered, looking at your and Hitoshi with matchmaker in her eyes.

You would kick her ass for it later. In that moment, you tried to keep a somewhat neutral expression as you recalled the night in question.

Sure, it was a year or two back and you and Hitoshi weren’t half as close back then.

The lot of you had been sitting on the floor of Denki and Hitoshi’s dorm, passing around a bottle of cheap, flavored vodka in a fucked up, horny game of truth or dare.

...

“You’re next (Y/N)!” Mina passed the bottle to you and fell back against the carpet. You swallowed thickly, swishing the content liquor inside. “Dare or sex act?”

The rules of the game were simple. Choosing ‘dare’ meant that someone else chose a sexually-charged dare for you and ‘sex act’ meant exposing either a kink or a sex act you’d done. It was a roulette either way, but one option gave you far more control than the other.

After the last dare consisting of Denki giving a very messy lap dance to Eijiro, and you weren’t really in the mindset to repeat anything even close to that.

“Sex act,” You sighed in defeat.

Denki snickered in the corner, “Spill it!”

Hanta cheered you on as you bit your lip in thought.

The liquor swirling in your stomach was affecting your inhibitions, and with one shy, half-glance to Hitoshi, you spoke up.

“I have a spanking kink, what of it.”

You drowned out Hitoshi’s red cheeks and the cheers of your friends with a deep chug from the bottle.

The bottle was passed to Hitoshi as you asked the question, “Dare or sex act?”

Jiro giggled from the bed, sipping at her own drink as well.

“Sex act,” Hitoshi groaned, rolling his eyes at Denki, but you all knew he loved what was going on.

“Reveal yourself, Hitoshi! What gets your rocks off!?” Mina shouted drunkenly as she rolled on the floor. You made a mental note to cut her off from having any more of the trashy vodka.

Hitoshi gave you a fleeting, but very horny look before regarding the group.

There was a twitch in your lip that made you think his smirk was all for you.

“I love pulling a cute girl over my lap and turning her ass purple while she’s begging for more.”

As everyone around you jeered and cheered, you gulped.

And so did Hitoshi.

...

“Yeah!” Hanta fell back. “That was so fucking funny. Like, all night it was all (Y/N) being like ‘I’m a filthy masochist!’ and Hitoshi being like ‘I’m a filthy sadist!’”

“Hanta, for the love of god,” You interrupted him, face burning with a fucked up mix of shame and lust. Hitoshi was mirroring you. “Why do you have to bring that up?”

“Oh, dude, because whenever we talk about it, you and Hitoshi get so embarrassed, it’s hilarious!” Hanta fucking giggled and reached for his drink.

“Are we gonna talk about how you and Denki both like fisting—” You give them a taste of their own medicine, watching the two of them choke and gawk. To the side, Momo whispered to Jiro, eyeing you.

Hitoshi barked out a laugh, losing some tension in his shoulders. You met his eye for a moment, only to see the jewelish purple taken up by his blackened pupils.

Fuck.

Momo spoke up, brow furrowed, “Can I request something a bit odd of you, (Y/N)? It’s perfectly okay if you say no.”

“Shoot,” You reply, sipping your beverage.

Momo bit her lip, eyes going to Jiro, then you, “Can I try spanking you?”

Everyone collectively choked. You especially.

You took another nervous sip of your drink, avoiding eye contact with the group.

You regained composure, refusing to look at Hitoshi, but letting the fucked up idea brew and brew in your mind, “Uh, I mean, is Jiro okay with it?”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Jiro nodded, kissing her girlfriend’s jaw. “Pain isn't my thing, at all, and she’s always wanted to try it. And hey, if you’re a ‘filthy masochist’, be my guest.”

But, would you be her guest?

Your drunken mind considered.

It was the most acceptable setting for it to happen in public. You really did like getting spanked and were a raging masochist, so it would, at the very least, be fun for you. A little humiliating, but that was also a turn on. You’d also get to indulge Momo, who was dating Jiro, but they both seemed perfectly okay with a bit of platonic pain play, so what was the real harm?

Your gaze flickered to Hitoshi.

Oh, fuck.

His face was lit up with a deep blush even in the irisian hues of the sex attic. His eyes were pointed distinctively opposite of you, a hand literally over his mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Your mind lit up with ideas.

Terrible, sinful ideas that you would be the peak of you and Hitoshi’s teasing.

Fuck it.

“Sure, I’m down,” You smirked and Momo lit up. Immediately, she was up and scouting out the area for a spot to go to town. Momo even seemed to be eyeing up a wall of toys.

“Hey,” Jiro whispered to you as you truly realized what you got yourself into. “Thanks for this. She’s really into this kind of stuff, and I like indulging her, but I can’t handle too much.”

“Oh, of course!” You spoke so brightly. “I have a high pain tolerance, so I’m sure I can take what she dishes out, too.”

You heard Hitoshi clear his throat behind you.

You let yourself take another glance at Hitoshi and it made you want to die on the spot. His eyes glared in anger with the sinful intensity that was entirely directed at you. You could tell by the awkward way he was leaning that he was trying to hide the bulge in his jeans.

Is... Is he that turned on by just the thought of me getting spanked?

Oh, this truly was your best teasing yet.

(Were you taking this too far?)

Kaminari was gripping the sleeve of Hitoshi’s sweater, not allowing him to leave. Judging by how the latter was looking and staring, he wasn’t going to either way.

Momo walked back over, tugging you by the hair to a bed that was a lot higher than the others. It was the perfect height for you to bend over.

“What’s your safeword?” She asked, running her hand down your back to push you against the comforter like she’d done this hundreds of times before. Your chest fell against the bed, forearms giving you a bit of leverage.

You hummed, “Just ‘red’ should be good.”

“Perfect,” Momo smiled before pressing the back of your neck, forcing your face into the sheets. “I’m gonna give you ten with my hand, okay?”

“I trust you, Momo, do your worst,” You spoke so confidently, but truly you didn’t know what was coming.

Momo smoothed a hand over your ass, hardly covered due to the angle you were bent over. The pretty fabric of your dress, pulled over your curves, was hiding less and less. Momo hummed, running a firm hand down the zipper of the dress, “Do you have a preference as to if I pull your dress up or not?”

Oh, holy fuck.

That was beyond teasing.

Fuck it.

“You can pull it up, but keep my panties on. I need some dignity,” You winked back at her.

Momo blushed. She delicately pulled the fabric back, resulting in a round of wolf whistles from your friend. Sober you was going to hate the fact you did this, but drunk you? Thriving.

(Though you wished it was Hitoshi delivering, but you digress.)

Without warning, Momo brought her hand down on your ass, a loud smack resounding around the room, causing a slight hush.

Oh fuck.

You were already drawing some attention.

Despite the pleasant haze of painful pleasure that was beginning to swirl in your mind and gut, you couldn’t help but notice the looks and stares.

Particularly, you got a nasty feeling from the figure in the far corner eyeing you up from ass to toes. He looked fairly nondescript, but the aura he was giving off felt like poison. Something sticky and unpleasant formed in your gut when you looked at him. Your drunken mind chased it away by turning your head the other way.

And then all you could see was Hitoshi’s gaze on you.

It was damn near feral.

His cheeks flushed and dewy. A bit of sweat was dripping down his temple, reflecting the party lighting like some sort of sick joke. One of his hands was raking through his violet locks. His teeth dug into his full lips as he stared you down.

Your eyes met and you refused to look away.

So did he.

Another hit, harder, made you bite your lip to suppress a cry.

Three more and you couldn’t help the bubbling sounds that were spilling from you. Soft cries and moans, maybe a whimper or two leaked from your bitten lips. Momo wasn’t holding back, and you were sure your ass would ache tomorrow.

Good.

Two more and tears leaked from your eyes. You were sure your friends were just waiting to give both you and Momo so much shit, but you couldn’t care less. All you could do was drink in the hungry way Hitoshi eyed you.

It was definitely not the way people who were ‘just friends’ looked at each other.

“Last two, make ‘em count!” Mina shouted from behind you with a cheer. Some of the others in the room were clamoring to watch.

Momo ran a soothing hand down your back, “You doing okay?”

“I’m peachy,” You push out, voice clearly tear-stricken. “Finish me off, Momo. Bruise me.”

That apparently set her off. Momo smacked your ass with such a force that your face pressed harshly into the bed, obscuring your view of Hitoshi.

The last slap was, by far, the worst. Momo decided to tease you, torturing the raw skin of your ass. She would wind up only to pet your lower back or stroke the tops of your thighs. When she finally gave you the hit you deserved (for torturing Hitoshi and yourself), it sounded across the room just as loud as your sob that followed it. Tears leaked from your eyes as your breath came out in shudders. You loved the feeling of numbness and pain that emanated from your abused cheeks. You relished it.

You turned your head upright, vision blurry. Momo pulled your dress down, helping you sit up.

You didn’t get much of a chance to catch your breath as Hitoshi dashed away and out of the sex room, very tense and very distressed judging by how Denki was shouting after him.

Oh fuck.

You kicked yourself mentally, cursing your stupid fucking hubris.

You took it too far.

He’s either turned on, uncomfortable as fuck, or both.

Probably both.

You start to sit up, ignoring the sobering pain heating up your ass. Quickly, Momo pressed you back down to the bed. A solo cup of clear liquid was offered to you.

“Aftercare, obligatory. Drink this, it’s just water,” Momo stated curtly, watching you down the water. You rubbed the tears from your eyes.

“How’s my makeup?” You asked, ignoring the rising panic in your chest.

Momo inspected you for a moment as the others came over, jeering. She quickly rubbed away smears of mascara, running a hand over the side of your face, “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah, totally. Shit was fun,” You prayed you were disguising the turning of your gut well enough with your nonchalant tone. “I’m gonna find Hitoshi and make sure he has an extra pair of pants.”

Momo frowned, pressing you down and squeezing your shoulders, “Somehow, I don’t believe that. Please rest for a moment, (Y/N).”

You faltered, following Momo’s command without much thought. Your mind was still in a somewhat of a fog as you sipped at the water she gave you. Her hand rubbed at your shoulders and back, dropping praise every few moments.

The rest of your peers filed over, cheering, flopping on the bed around you.

“Holy fuck, (Y/N),” Hanta whistled, clapping your shoulder.

“That was so hot,” Denki sighed, red-faced and wide-eyed.

Momo ran an affectionate hand through your hair as Jiro fell into her lap, winking at you, “She’s so good, right?”

“Yeah, holy fuck. If y’all ever need a third, you have my number.” You breathed, shaking out a laugh. “I think I need to find Hitoshi, though.”

You stood up, wobbling for a moment, comically aware of sets of eyes on you as you dashed away. Your friends shouted encouragement from behind you as you descended the stairs.

Truthfully, your intent was to smooth things over and make the routine, ‘but we’re bros!’ comment. You knew that this wouldn’t be enough, considering how far you pushed it.

You fucked up.

Took it too far.

What does Hitoshi even think of you now?

...

Your mind was sobering with the help of the water and pain.

You had to find Hitoshi.

So, you quickly moved about the house.

You scanned room after room, checked the front and back yard, but couldn’t find him anywhere.

Where the fuck was he?

You passed by a room upstairs, door shut, and you swore you heard his voice inside.

The panic that had been brewing in you was spilling over. Your ass ached and walking hurt like hell with the bruises that were forming. All you wanted was a cigarette and to apologize to your best friend for taking things way too fucking far—

You swung the door open and was met with a scene that did not include Hitoshi Shinsou.

A mess of four very cute, very high girls, mostly but not entirely clothed, were writhing on the bed, all popping up to look at you.

You flushed, body tensing as you tried to laugh it off, “Oh, wow, sorry about this! I thought my friend was in here. I’ll let you all get back to it.”

The girls hardly seemed perturbed by the sudden intrusion, rather they seemed quite complimentary.

“Aw, you don’t wanna join?” One of the girls pouted, giving you puppy dog eyes. “You’re so pretty!”

“T-thank you,” You shook your head, “You are all very sweet, but I have to find my friend.”

“The one behind you?” A different girl asked.

Your hazed mind hadn’t even picked up that was anyone behind you.

You couldn’t help lighting up. Hitoshi had to be behind you, of course, this silly anxiety attack would come to an end—

You turned.

Your face fell.

***********

It was the creep from the sex room, grinning down at you. There was a nasty glint in his eye.

Your heart started going faster. Your gut soured with a feeling far off from drunkenness.

“Actually, uh, no, I’ll be going, thanks.” You tried to sidestep the man, but he quickly blocked the doorway, boxing you in.

“No, I think we’ll stay,” Oh, the man’s voice was sick in your ears.

You were too shocked to move at first.

His reached for your shoulder, but you managed to stumble back from him.

“No, hey, dude, don’t touch me,” You barked back, pass your growing fear.

He scoffed, muttering something about you being a ‘cheap whore’ and stalked you down.

Your back hit a wall. You froze.

You felt trapped.

His cheap cologne was choking you.

He was just inches away.

You looked helplessly to the girls on the bed, but they had dissolved back into each other. Their hands were grabbing at each other's writhing bodies, clothes being torn away with light moans filling the air. They were far too fucked to be bothered with what was happening to you. The deafening music of the party drowned out your senses beyond the small room.

You tried to slip away from him, out of the door, but his arm slammed beside you.

He caged you.

His hand shot to grab your wrap, squeezing hard and shooting pain into your shoulder as you tried to rip yourself away.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You snarled, trying to wrench out of his grip, away from him. You fell deeper into panic.

You could feel his breath on your ear, and your heart dropped in your chest. With the thrum of the party, it felt far too loud for anyone to hear you. Even if you shouted for help, would anyone come? No one even knew that anything was wrong—

A voice cracked like a roll of thunder through the man’s actions and the drone of the party.

“Get the fuck off of them before I break your fucking fingers.” A familiar, blessed voice cut the air from behind you.

Thank fucking god.

Hitoshi stood in the doorway.

You almost sobbed in relief.

His broad form took up most of the door frame, chest puffed out in his anger. His brow was lowered, mouth twisted in revulsion and fury, all directed at the man who had you caged. Only rage colored Hitoshi’s features. Until he caught your gaze, anyways.

Then, it all dissolved to fear.

“We’re busy, she’s fine, fuck off.” The guy said, digging his hand into your side.

You kicked at his shoe, relishing the way he hissed in pain.

The man glared at you, then looked to Hitoshi. The man scoffed, looking him up and down to assess whether putting up a fight was worth it.

Apparently not, as the man shoved you roughly towards Hitoshi.

*********

You tripped into the latter’s chest as he caught you easily.

Without missing a beat, he steadied you and crushed you to him. One of his broad hands moved up to almost shield the side of your face. You were surprised to find that his body was shaking just as hard as your own. You both mirrored each other in rage and panic.

You pressed your face into his sweater as tears remained dangerously close to falling from your eyes. Fear still tore through you and everything about Hitoshi made you feel a hell of a lot safer.

Hitoshi’s arm tightened as he continued his stare-down.

The man grumbled, exiting the room in a huff and harshly pushing back Hitoshi (and you). You flinched, wincing. A low, rumbling growl rumbled in Hitoshi’s chest as he stared death at the man.

You knew that this was probably all too much. There were details of intimacy and boundaries that were being broken without thought from both of you and that was very bad, probably.

But, you also were drunk on fear as opposed to vodka, and having someone safe to hold you felt better than any hit you could’ve found at the party.

You surrendered to your very obvious reality.

When the man was gone, filtered back into the party, Hitoshi looked down at you, his mood entirely changing.

His anger dissolved. His face softened as he tenderly (and quickly) assessed you. Concerned, but earnest eyes searched your face and body for visible signs of harm. When he was satisfied, Hitoshi linked your hands and pulled you from the room.

He walked you through the party, quickly but gingerly. Your mind buzzed, still panicked and anxious, but the thought of cold air and a less stimulating environment was like aloe on a burn.

Finally, you reached the front door, walking onto an empty front landing.

You fell into Hitoshi.

Your sweaty, shaking hands clung to the back of his sweater as you buried your face into his neck. The familiar scent of his woodsy cologne and natural sweat was more of a sedative than any drug you could find at the party and you fucking needed it.

Hitoshi wrapped his arms around you from the small of your back to your shoulders, squeezing as he buried his face in your hair.

You stiffened but relaxed a moment later. You couldn’t keep pretending. You didn’t have it in you.

You were surrounded by him and the cold air, and nothing felt more comforting.

You decided to forget the semantics of your relationship for a little.

(You hoped, prayed, that he would too).

Hitoshi suddenly tensed, “Is it okay that I’m touching you?”

You could only nod, voice weak and small in the back of your throat, “Y-yeah, it's cool. It’s been cool.”

Hitoshi grounded you, turning the two of you so you were protected from any potential prying eyes. He moved you just right so that his cheek rested on top of your head.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus on the calming beat of Hitoshi’s heart.

He soothed you by existing; he always did. But, in that moment, after such an uncomfortably close brush with something fucking disgusting, his presence was almost cleansing. It purged you of the incessant clawing in the back of your mind.

You’re safe.

You pulled away just enough to look up at Hitoshi’s face. You felt him give you a squeeze which made the smallest, unlikely smile form on your lips.

Slowly, like he was trying not to spook a wild animal, Hitoshi cupped the side of your face. The hold was firm, like it had power to it. You sank into his palm.

(Fuck that feels nice—)

“How are you feeling?” Hitoshi asked softly, gaze warm and honey-like.

You laughed weakly, leaning into his palm, “Like shit. Holy fuck.”

The hand cradling your lower back stroked a thumb idly, “I can only imagine. What happened back there? That guy had been in the ‘sex room’ with us, right?”

“Uh, excuse you, ‘sex attic’, I think you mean?” You still managed to joke. “And yes. Must’ve been following me or something, fucking creep.”

“If you want, I’ll go back in there and kick the shit outta him. I’m sure the others will help. It’d be so worth getting him thrown out for,” Hitoshi snickered, turning his head towards the door as he did.

As he turned back, his eyes widened as your fearful expression returned.

“P-please don’t leave,” You knew it was too much, right? Obviously. But, you didn’t care.

You felt fairly certain Hitoshi didn’t either by that point.

You pressed yourself back close to him and buried your face in the crook of his neck, clutching at his front. “Please don’t go.”

You weren’t sure if he’d return any affections (obviously earlier gestures were just to comfort you, right?).

He did. Immediately, he squeezed as much of you as he could reach, nuzzling his face into the side of your head.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” Hitoshi reassured you with his voice as well as his touch. You shuddered, feeling his lips and breath so close.

The two of you stayed like that for a while.

You retained your death grip on Hitoshi, contemplating it all. Perhaps it was the setting or the way your body was thrumming, but something was forcing you to come to terms with how you really felt about him.

You enjoyed teasing Hitoshi too much for it to just be platonic. You knew this.

You wondered how Hitoshi felt considering all of those heated looks and smirks he loved dishing out.

(An insecure thought or two crept about only being a fuck to him. You tried to repress it, though it certainly didn’t calm you.)

Despite these thoughts, you held Hitoshi with everything you had, fearing that whatever long-cultivated connection the two of you would slip away by the end of the night.

After a few minutes of slow silence, Hitoshi offered you a cigarette, which you took graciously. He leaned forward to light it, silently regarding you with warm eyes.

You took a fat inhale, breathing out with shaky lungs.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke abruptly.

His eyes widened and he shook his head, gently grabbing your shoulders, “No, (Y/N), there is literally nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“No, there is. The thing with Momo,” You shook your head. “That was bad. I’m sorry, I was teasing you and I took it too far. Way too far.”

Hitoshi went still, averting his eyes and biting his lip.

“I appreciate the apology,” Hitoshi's face erupted in red. “B-but, you don’t need to be sorry.”

He’s... embarrassed?

Oh.

(You truly were a dumbass, but god love ‘ya.)

You took another puff, nodding.

Hitoshi pulled you to him again, this time wrapping an arm around your shoulders. His thumb rubbed idly at the bare skin of your arm as he whipped out his phone.

“What do you want to do?” The air was cold as Hitoshi spoke. It nipped at your skin and made you crinkle your nose.

With a moment's hesitation, you replied in a hoarse voice, “Can we go home?”

Hitoshi visibly softened for you, “Of course. I can call us an Uber. To your dorm...?” There’s a question in his voice that you both already knew the answer to.

You shook your head, “Your place?”

He nodded, “Of course, (Y/N).”

You leaned into his shoulder, letting yourself relax.

#salem writes #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi #shinso hitoshi x y/n #hitoshi shinso x y/n #shinso hitoshi x you

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ur-jinji · 4 years

Text

wallflowers: part one

zuko x reader modern au

warning: alcohol consumption

note: all characters (including reader) are of legal age!!! no underage drinking!!! & the environment is safe!!! just imagine yourself older if you’re not B)

summary: you’re invited to a party with the gaang and find yourself with a certain raven haired stranger all night

Suki: you here yet hun??

You stared down at your phone, nervously chewing your lip. You hesitantly started typing back.

Y/N: yeah i’m outside :P

You kicked at a stone on the cement sidewalk outside of the house. The wind blew harshly, sending a chill down your body. The front door was suddenly pulled open, Suki and Katara on the other side with grins.

“Y/N!” Katara chirped, throwing her arms around you.

“It’s about time you got here!” Suki said, joining Katara in hugging you. “I miss you so much, babes!”

“Aw, I missed you guys, too,” You said happily.

Suki pulled away and grabbed your arm.

“Let’s go! The party’s been waiting for you!”

Suki dragged you inside, Katara following behind closely.

You grew up in the same town as Suki, so you guys went way back. You two had met Katara, her brother Sokka, and (boy)friend Aang in high school when they were passing through town. You and Suki kept in touch with them after they left, but Suki had ended up moving to the same city the friends resided in for college. This was your first time seeing the four of them in over a year, so you were quite happy, but nervous to meet their other friends.

Suki dragged you through the house, snaking past drunk strangers, and leading you downstairs to the basement.

“Are you guys going to murder me down here?” You questioned, half serious. The girls giggled in reply.

Suki and Katara halted once the three of you had reached downstairs. There was a couch and chairs filled with people.

“Y/N, you made it!” You heard someone cheer. You turned your head to see Aang and Sokka with a huge grins on their faces. Sokka casually draped an arm on your shoulder. He wobbled around a bit, obviously drunk.

“Everyone, this is Y/N,” Sokka started, pausing to burp. “Y/N, this is everyone.”

You waved at them all shyly.

“Sokka, why don’t you get Y/N a drink,” Katara said, slapping his arm away from your shoulder. He sent her a lukewarm look and walked off. “Sorry, he always gets handsy when he drinks.”

“I remember,” You sighed, laughing a bit. “Sorry, Suki.”

“You’re fine. I get handsy myself, so watch out,” She joked, sending you a wink, causing you to chuckle.

You decide to have a seat and plop yourself down on an empty cushion of the couch beside the arm. You pulled out your phone and tried to busy yourself while everyone around you talked amongst one another.

“oh, you must be Y/N,” a girl said. She had black hair and icy blue, almost white eyes. They were mesmerizing. “I’m Toph, the blind one you’ve definitely heard about.”

“Hey, Toph. Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you. I love hearing the story about you holding Sokka in a chokehold until he passed out,” You replied, breathing out a laugh.

“Yeah, and I’d do it again anytime. I’ll do it again when he comes back,” She said, grinning wildly.

Almost on queue, Sokka appeared downstairs. A boy with black hair and a scar around his eye followed behind him. Sokka handed you a drink. You thanked him with a smile. Suddenly, Toph tackled him, wrapping her arm around the back of his neck. He shrieked loudly and you could see her grip tighten. You laughed in amusement before noticing the black haired boy eyeing you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I see steal your seat?” You asked worriedly, starting to stand up. He held his hands out, gesturing you to stay seated.

“No, no, you’re fine,” He said as he made his way to the bare cushion beside you.

“I’m Y/N,” You greeted with a small smile. He held his hand out to you, which you took, and he shook it. Weird.

“I’m Zuko,” He greeted back, returning the smile.

“Parties aren’t really my thing,” You admitted as you opened up your drink.

“Me neither. I’m not really social until I have a couple drinks in me, to be honest,” Zuko replied. He held up his half empty drink. “I’m on two and a half.”

“I feel you,” You said before taking a swig from your bottle. You made a face of disgust. You hated beer.

“Here, trade me,” He told you, holding his bottle out to you. He had a wine cooler. “I don’t mind beer.”

“You sure?” You asked as you hestitantly reached for his drink, switching yours out.

“Yeah, it’s cool. I don’t know why Sokka would give you a beer. There’s tons of wine coolers up there,” Zuko said, then taking a drink from your beer.

“Well, thanks. And I don’t think Sokka knows what’s going on right now,” You responded. You took a small swig. Your gaze turned to Sokka and Toph, who had him a chokehold. He tapped her arm urgently.

“TOPH, I TAP OUT. I WILL THROW UP ON YOU,” Sokka hollered, his eyes looking insane. Toph let him go, to your dismay. You and Zuko laughed.

You leaned back into the couch, making yourself more comfortable. Zuko copied. You turned your head and looked at him, noticing he had been staring.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to stare. You’re just really pretty,” Zuko admitted, sounding very demure. You felt your cheeks heat up. “Maybe I am more drunk than I thought.”

“Thank you,” You said, looking down bashfully. “Do you feel okay, though?”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine. I know my limit,” He responded. You took note of his cheeks turning pink as he gazed at you. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Can I have your number or something?” Zuko asked lightly, smiling lightly.

“Sure,” You said, not meaning to grin. He seemed really cool and sweet, and you thought he was really cute. He handed you his phone so you could put your number into it.

“So what do you like to do for fun?” He asked.

You and Zuko spent the rest of the night on that couch in that dingy basement, chatting and getting to know each other as everyone around you continued the party. You weren’t surprised when you felt the attraction begin to develop into a crush. He was really charming and you got on really well with him. It felt like you two had known each other for much longer than just a couple hours. Your first yawn made you realize it was probably getting late. You checked your phone and saw it read 3:16AM.

“Holy shit, it’s already past three,” You said in shock. “I feel like I just got here!”

“Yeah, feels like no time passes when we’re talking,” Zuko responded, smiling bashfully. “It’s weird, I feel like I’ve known you for years!”

“I was literally just thinking that!” You exclaimed. “I’m getting pretty tired, though. I wonder when Katara the DD will be ready to take us back to Suki’s house.”

“She looks like she’s getting ready to leave. Have fun sleeping, though. I heard Sokka’s gonna be going home with you guys to stay with Suki. They’re no fun to listen to at night,” He warned, earning an uneasy laugh from you.

“Greeeaaat,” You groaned. “Suki said I could sleep in her bed with her but I assume that’s out the door.”

“Welllll, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it,” Zuko joked, nudging your shoulder gently.

“You’re right,” You laughed, nudging him back. “The couch sounds a lot more appealing though. Sokka looks extra handsy tonight.”

You and Zuko looked over to Sokka who was snuggling up to Suki on a chair, showering her neck in kisses.

“Yeah, the couch sounds pretty good,” You uttered as you looked back to Zuko. He looked into your eyes warmly, causing you to blush again.

“Y/N, you ready to go, hun?” Katara asked from across the room as she picked up her jacket.

You nodded and stood up. Zuko stood up with you, placing a hand in your lower back, and guiding you around the coffee table in front of the couch. Your cheeks turned rosy again as you made eye contact with Katara. She wiggled her eyebrows playfully at you. The two of you walked over to her.

“Sokka, Suki, let’s get out of here,” Katara ordered motherly. She walked over to sleeping Aang and pecked him on the top of his head.

“Well, it was really nice meeting you, Zuko,” You said to the raven haired boy. He grinned.

“It was nice meeting you too, Y/N,” He responded. His hand dropped from your back, realizing it had still been lingering.

“I’ll be looking out for a text,” You told him with a smirk. He nodded and stepped aside as Sokka, Suki, and Katara joined you. You both waved goodbye to each other before you walked up the stairs. You looked back and saw him still peering at you. You sent him a grin before turning around, yet another blush creeping onto your face.

“So...you and Zuko?” Suki asked, already knowing the answer. “Was not expecting that.”

“Yeah, you two were canoodling all night,” Sokka slurred as he tripped a little over his own feet.

“Hush,” You dismissed them, feeling embarrassed.

As you got into the front seat of the car, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You fished it out and saw a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: hi :) it’s zuko

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lilsocksiswriting · 3 years

Text

A Hitman’s Dirty Little Play Thing

Fandom: Haikyuu

Paring: Hitman!Matsukawa X Assassin!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matsukawa are both in the hit for hire business so it’s not uncommon for you to find yourselves fighting one another nor it is uncommon for these fights to end with sex.

Warming: NSFW, Darker Content , no beta, minors DNI

Tags: Knife play, grouping, Degradation, dirty talk,, Daddy kink, Fingering, slight Voyeurism, Creampie

Word Count: 1785

You are an assassin. Matsukawa is a hitman. Because of this, it wasn't at all uncommon for you two to find each other in your current situation. You’re straddled on top of Matsukawa in an empty parking garage with your hands squeezing around his neck as hard as you can.

You weren't planning on killing the man, not when date night was tomorrow. You just want to make him pass out so that you could make a clean getaway and with Matsukawa’s grip around your wrists getting weaker with each passing second you could tell he wasn't far off from that. You make a rookie mistake, however. It wasn't often that you got to overpower the dark-haired man like this. The power makes you feel giddy and the giddiness makes you lose focus. You don’t react fast enough to the knee ramming into your stomach knocking the breath out of you and throwing you off balance.

Matsukawa pushes you off of him. As you’re gasping for breath he throws you onto your stomach like a rag doll. He grabs your wrist and twists it behind your back then leans his weight into you. It’s not enough to cause you serious pain but enough to make it hard for you to catch your breath and cause an ache in your breasts from being pressed into the ground.

"Aww, you foolish little thing," his breathless voice is coos mockingly in your ear, "Thought you could get the drop on me didn't you."

The struggle you give as a retort has Matsukawa hauling you to your feet and shoving you up against a smooth cement wall. The hitman presses his body against yours trapping you between the cold wall and his warm chest. You moan weakly, feeling his hard-on through his slack poke your lower back. Still being definite you wiggle your ass drawing a low growl from Matsukawa that you can feel rumble in his chest.

"You try anything, and I'll have a knife to your throat before you can make a move you.", he threatens, hot breath rolling across your bare shoulder causing your skin to break out in goosebumps and a shiver of delight to seep down your spin.

Matsukawa softly kisses your shoulder before beginning a cavity search with his free hand. As he goes about removing all the weapons you could hide in such a small, tight dress Matsukawa gropes and squeezes your body. His cock twitches at the little gasps you make whenever his large hand squeeze your breast or pinch your ass through your dress. Once all your weapons have been carelessly discarded far out of your reach Matsukawa dips his hand between your thighs and forces them apart. His fingers find the damp spot that’s soaked through your panties and press into it.

“Mattsun~”, You wine trying to grind against his fingers. Such a needy thing you are and Matsukawa wouldn't have you any other way.

Matsukawa pulls his hand away and pulls the end of your dress up over your hips then whips out a switchblade replacing his fingers with the cool blade. He lightly rubs the blade along your clothed slit. The feather-light touches of something so dangerous sends a thrill through you.

“Your little slut,” Matsukawa says, ”Look at you, I’ve got a knife to your cunt and you’re already sopping wet.

Another needy whimper from you makes him swallow thickly and tighten the grip on his knife. Matsukawa loves to have this kind of control over you and loves it even more seeing how reactive you are to it. When you start to careful to grind down on the knife's edge, craving more friction, he slides the weapon away. He traces the tip over the soft skin of your hips, cutting you away your underwear as he goes about and letting them fall ruined to the ground.

"Now I'm going to let you go off your wrist, but remember what I said,” he reminds you, “I'd hate to have to mark up this pretty body of yours."

You nod and even hold your hands up. Turning to face the hitman Matsukawa has his knife pointed at your chest where his eyes hungry drink in your low-cut dress. Reaching out he runs his fingers along the exposed skin of your collarbone lovingly before he yanks your dress down. Dilated pupils follow your tits as they flop out with bounce, nipples already beginning to perk up in the cold air.

"Such pretty things.”, Matsukawa praises digging his fingers into the supple flesh of one.

You can’t help but to relax in the warmth of his hand as he continues to massage your breast. Although you're making such a cute face and your eyes are glazing over in such a way that he thinks you might start drooling, Matsukawa doesn’t quite like how you’re letting down your guard around a dangerous hitman like himself. with his knife, Matsukawa runs the blade in patterns over and between the valley of your breasts, occasionally tapping your hardened nipples as it passes over them. The presence of the blade against your skin was just enough to further arouse you and make you alert of every little action Matsukawa takes.

"Now," he pats the flat side of his knife against a supple lobe, "here’s what you're going to do for me. You’re gonna set your ass down- and don't you even think about giving me any lip about how cold it is- and you're going to spread your legs nice and wide for daddy so I can see that pretty pussy of yours. Then you're going to use your fingers to stretch yourself nice and good so daddy can bend you in half and use you cunny as my own personal fuck toy, understand little slut?”

"Can't You just fuck me now.", you pout.

“You really have the gull to talk back to me?” to prove his point he drags the blade up and tips your chin back with the pointed tip, ”Besides we know what happened the last time we didn’t prepare you.”

That's right. You ached for days,

“So are you going to be a good little slut for daddy?”

“yes daddy”

You obediently sink down to the ground wincing at the cold cement under your bare ass but don't say a word about it. Matsukawa couches down with bracing one knee on the ground. Even feeling so dirty under his lustful gaze and benign held at knifepoint you don't feel an ounce of shame as you spread your legs and give the hitman a full view of your glistening pussy. You rub around the inner lips collecting slick before easily pushing in two fingers into your sopping heat. Soon though just two digits isn't enough for you, so you add another. By the time you’re stuffing four of them in and out of yourself and curling them so that the drag along with your squishy warmth your panting and wining like a bitch in heat.

“You about ready to cum little slut?”

You nod frantically.

“Then stop. Now.”, Matsukawa orders you in a completely serious voice.

You let out the most pathetic whimper but obey. You pull your hand away leaving you hole you clench around nothing in a need to be filled again. Matsukawa lets out a low curse as he watches strings of your own slick thin out and breaks from the tips of your fingers.

Matsukawa drops the rest of the way onto his knees and grabs your ankle roughly yanking you towards him, putting you on your back. He makes quick work of fishing his erection from his slacks and spreading your legs. The way that he’s staring down at your exposed body taking in every little detail it has to offer with an admiring smile has you suddenly feeling bashful. You look off to the side just to advert your eyes from his expression.

But Matsukawa doesn't like that. He slaps one of your breasts harshly drawing out a pained gasp from you and makes your pussy quiver.

Matsukawa squishes your cheeks with his hand forcing you to look back at him, “Don't you fucking dare try and act all shy on me now not after you’ve acted like such a dirty little slut.”

You moan at his degrading words and nod. Matsukawa tosses his switchblade aside. It wasn’t needed anymore. He doesn't give you any time to prepare yourself as he grabs under your thighs and pushes them towards your chest. In one fluid thrust, he shoves his thick cock deep inside you. Your breath is knocked out of you again and your back curls uncomfortably against the hard ground. You don't care though because Matsukawa is already fucking you without any remorse like the cold hitman he was known to be. His cock brutally hits your cervix again and again in quick recession abusing your tiny hole and making you choke on your own moans.

“You like that slut?”, he mocks,” You like when daddy fucking your cunny raw?”

“Yes, yes,” You chant breathlessly.

“The Tell me. Tell me how much you like daddy using you.”, he growls.

“ I love it when daddy fucks me,” you whimper desperately, hands clawing at his shoulders and toes curling, “ love it when he uses me like I-I’m nothing but a fuck toy -his fuck toy.”

“That’s right,” he growls his pace becoming unbearable.

Your eyes blur over with tears and widen, ”Da-addy I’m cumming! Cumming!.”

“That’s it,” Matsukawa encourages digging his fingers into your thighs hard enough to leave marks on his little toy, “ That’s. Daddy’s. Good. Little. Filthy. Slut.”, he prairies you with each sloppy thrust.

A whimper bubbles past your lips and your eyes roll back as you feel Matsukawa‘s cum fill your twitching hole. When’s he’s finished with you Matsukawa unplugs his soft dick and sets back. He watches as immediately a copious amount of creamy liquid starts to leak from your spent hole which puts that soft smile back on his face.

Gingerly, he lays your legs back down and hovers over you. He bushes a few stray strands of hair from your glazed over eyes and starts to make sure you’re ok, ”Hey baby, you good? Anything hurt?”

You shake your head, “Just out of breath, and tired. Can we go back to your place?”

“Why my place? Yours has the bigger tub.”, he reminds you petting your head.

“Yea but yours is closer, and it’s by that pizza joint we like.”

“You want pizza tonight baby?”

You nod,” Please.

Matsukawa kisses your forehead softly, ”Anything you want baby, let me get our things and I’ll help you into the car.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #Mattsukawa Issei #mattsun #mattsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #privet stacks

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murdertrialimagines · 4 years

Text

Kokichi, Kaede, Shuichi, and Kiibo X They/Them! Reader (Dream Soulmate AU!)

‘If it’s alright, how about a soulmate AU where the soulmates can occasionally meet in each other’s dreams, but can’t remember their soulmate’s identity when they wake up? w/ a curious, persistent, and thoughtful reader (they/them) and Kokichi(!!!), Kaede, Shuichi, and Kiibo please u///u thank you for all of your amazing work! ♡’

I am back from the dead. After three months of silence, I am back. I have a cosplay Tiktok now. Anyone want it? Story under the tag!

Kokichi

When in dreams with your soulmate, you know everything about them, but when you wake up, you have barely a hint

A voice, a scent, a first name if you’re extremely lucky

And for you...

You had that laugh

The laugh that this boy (it was a boy, right?) had that rang in your head everyday, awake or otherwise

You of course asked him a plethora of questions, but could never remember the answers

That didn’t stop you though, each night you fruitlessly searched

It haunted you, in a way

You had a small book younger you swore to fill with all of the things you could remember from those nights

Yet all you had written was ‘purple’ and ‘laugh’.

You asked all of your friends if they knew anyone with the two specific characteristics, but no one knew, or were too busy with their own hunts

You sat outside the small cafe, taking a sip of your cold drink to balance the warm day

This is where you sat when you thought, as no one approached you and that gave you time to think

And today you sat, book in hand to try and figure out the clues your brain has so helpfully left you

But the words seemed to be a mess of nothing mixed with more nothing

“For the last time I’m not getting you the unicorn drink.” A stern and possibly annoyed voice rang from inside the shop, radiating out of the open door

“But I really want it!!”

“You got it last time and hated it.”

“But I want it!”

‘Children’, you thought. ‘Never wanna be wrong.’

After what sounded like a little hushed arguing, you grateful for the litttle quiet, the two seemed to hash out a deal

“Fine. Unicorn drink.”

“Knew you’d crack.” Followed by a distinct laugh

That child is a little- wait.

Quickly standing up, rattling the table a bit, you leaned into the doorway

A small teen balanced out next to a taller one, both donning grey and purple hair respectively-

“Wait.”

You must’ve said that a little bit louder than expected as the few people in the shop looked your way

You kept your eyes on the short purple boy, until your eyes locked with his

And the memories suddenly came flooding back

All of the dreams you shared, the laughs, the arguments, the plans you two made for when you found each other, it all came forward

“...it’s you..”

The boy’s surprised face, probably from seeing all of these memories as well, turned into a grin one could only describe as childish

“Shuichi!! My soulmate is right there! And they’re more attractive than Kaede!”

This earned the boy a shove, coincidentally in your direction

He stepped closer, a slightly more serious look on his face

“So, I’m Kokichi! Who are you, how are you, and what’s your blood type?”

“Uh, Y/n L/n, I’m good, actually, and...b positive?”

The boy, Kokichi as it was, cracked a smile, looking slightly down at you

“Well, this should be an interesting development!”

“What do you mean?”

The boy suddenly took your hand. With a smile Kokichi started to drag you off, leaving his friend behind

”we gotta go boast to Miu that I got a hot soulmate!”

“W-What?!”

Kaede

Every since you started dreaming of your soulmate, everyone has noticed how refreshed you had been

Some people fought with their soulmates, earning them the feeling of nightmares or never sleeping when they wake up

And although you can’t exactly remember what happens in your dreams, you can tell how serene it is

Faint hints of vanilla and the sound of a piano being played, is what you would describe your dreams as

Everyone said you were lucky to have such dreams that refresh you each morning

But you secretly wished for a little more

People always believed the idea that the more outgoing your soulmate was, the more you could remember when you woke up

And you, you could only remember classical music

It didn’t bother you much, as you knew for sure you had a soulmate, and a possibly famous one, as your friends always teased you about

So as payback, you dragged them to every recital you could find in the area, forcing them to watch the pianist with you in hopes it was your soulmate

Yet you never found them, until you transferred schools

First day at hopes peak high-school, as a reserve course student

The uproar of bullying towards reserve students had died down before you transferred, luckily, but some still picked on the kids who got in without a talent

You had been amazed at all of the talented people in the school, gawking at all of their talents whenever they showed off for you

You were especially interested in all of the musical talents, as your soulmate had planted an appreciation for music in you

When you heard of an ultimate musician, you had a small thought wondering if she might be your soulmate, but that idea was quickly tossed when you saw how intense her personality was

You would definitely have remembered that

When you met her, you told her of your situation in passing, and your soulmate troubles seemed to stick in her mind

“I know every musical talent there is here! I can totally hook up my bud with a cute player!”

She began introducing you to every person who’s talent had to do with music, yet none seemed to be a match

It had turned to months of being at the school with no luck

‘Maybe my soulmate is just a normal person with a knack for piano...’ you thought as you laid on one of the benches in the school garden, arm over your eyes to block the sun

You let your mind wander, listening to the noises of nature, the water from the nearby fountain, and the kids chatting as they walked past

You were almost asleep when you heard it

A soft humming voice, humming a small tune that sounded extremely familiar

Quickly moving your arm from your face, you sat up to see a blonde walking past, slightly swaying her head to the beat of the humming

“H-hey!”

You jumped up and grabbed her shoulder, the girl turning around surprised

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to know...what’s the name of the song you’re humming?”

“Oh, it’s Minuet in F Major!” The girl said with a slight smile

Finally putting a name to the song you’ve heard so much in your dreams, you smiled back before continuing

“So, uh, this might sound weird, but I hear that song in my dreams a LOT, so I was wondering if you played piano or something?”

She gave a gasp before her eyes lit up

“I do, and I play this in my dreams for my soulmate!” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Kaede Akamatsu, Ultimate Pianist!”

Taking her hand, you smiled at her once more. “I’m so glad to finally meet you!”

“So am I! What’s your name?”

“Y/n”

“That’s a nice name!”

“Thank you! I’ve actually been looking for my soulmate since I came to this school, but none of the other talents have been a match”

“What bad timing!” She said with a laugh. “I’ve been out of country for the last few months playing in a championship!”

Kaede grabbed your hand, cupping it into hers

“I’m so glad I finally get to meet you, Y/n! My friends are gonna be so excited to meet you!”

As she began to drag you away you smiled at her, knowing how serene your life was going to be from now on, awake or not.

Shuichi

You had a great memory

You remembered a lot of things about your soulmate, their black hair, their strange hobbies, and the stories of their friends

Yet you could not find them /anywhere/

You first started searching for just people with black hair that matched your age, but that quickly turned out to be impossible

So you started looking for people with his hobbies, that many teens couldn’t be interested in murders, or mysteries, right?

Wrong

So you began to look for people who were possibly his friends, but that was near impossible as well, seeming as they didn’t go to your school and you couldn’t wander onto another campus

You closed the book you wrote all of your clues in, the entire thing filled with scribbles and ink smudges, writing and clues only you could understand

You were walking home from school that day, a few textbooks as well as your notebook being carried in your arms as your bag was already full from the other assignments given to you

You looked at your watch, realizing the time you spent searching for your soulmate after class meant you had minutes to reach your bus

Picking up speed, you began to run, trying to get to the bus stop in time, paying attention to only your pace and the seconds ticking by

Running past a small patch of construction, you didn’t notice the patch of newly broken sidewalk, tripping on a larger piece of cement

Preparing to hit the dirt you braved yourself, closing your eyes

But you fell into something on the way down, taking it with you

Opening your eyes, you saw a boy on the ground next to you, a schoolboy by the looks of all of the books scattered along yours

“Omigosh, I’m so sorry!” You began scrambling to pick up your things

Adjusting his collar, the boy helped you as well as picked up his

“It’s completely fine,” he gave you a smile but you didn’t see it as you were looking for your journal

Spotting it you picked it up, managing all of your books into a carry-able pile

“Do you need any help? I’m shui-“

“I got it, but thank you! I have to run now!”

Giving him a small smile you began to run again, leaving the boy and his belongings behind

You had managed to catch your bus and your breath, and soon got home

Dropping your books onto your desk, you let out a sigh or relief as your arms stretched, joints popping slightly from being in the position for so long

Having nothing to do, you decided to look through your journal again, hoping that maybe you could piece something together

Picking it up you laid down and opened it, ready to decipher your cryptic dreams

But this wasn’t your handwriting

Scanning the pages, you analyzed the small and neat handwriting

‘Curious, rambles a bit’ ‘lots of jokes, I think (your hair color) hair?’ ‘Bubbly, but also dark at moments’ ‘I can’t find them, so I don’t think they go to Hopes Peak with me’

You kept looking at the book, wondering what had happened to it. Did you accidentally grab his? What were the odds that he was your soulmate, and had the same exact journal, for the same exact reason?

Extremely improbable, but by the looks of what was in your hands, completely possible

You continued reading the book, searching for clues to his identity

‘Kaito said that I should just remember harder. He doesn’t get that that doesn’t work because he’s known his soulmate since before dreaming of them’

A kaito...wait you’ve heard this name somewhere

Opening your phone you googled the name Kaito, paired with Hopes Peak

You found headline after headline about the famed teen who is becoming the youngest astronaut in history

Scrolling through some articles on the page, you passed one that was headed with a group picture, labeled as Kaito and his friends

And in that photo, albeit somewhat in the corner, was the boy you ran into earlier

Solidifying where the boy went, as well as his friend group, you closed the book and left your home, looking up the address for the boys school

By the time you got there, classes had ended for the day, kids swarming to go home or meet up with friends

You sat in the front of the school for a few minutes until you saw a familiar head of spiky purple hair

“Hey!” You ran towards him, stopping in front of him. “Sorry, are you Kaito?”

“Yeah dude!” He threw a thumbs up, winking at you. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well um, I ran into a kid- I think he’s your friend? He wears the grey suit and hat?”

“Yeah, that’s Shuichi! I was just about to meet up with him. Whadya need?”

“Shuichi...” you finally put a name to the boy. “Well...! I found his notebook and, I think he might be my soulmate?” You confessed, the last part of your sentence sped up in uncertainty

At this, Kaito lit up, grabbing your arm

“As a matter of fact, you are strangely similar to what he describes in his dreams! Cmon, I’ll take you to him!”

Before you could protest he dragged you off into town

He pulled you to the shopping district, entering into a small cafe close to where you and Shuichi first met

You eyed the patrons, finding the boy immediately in the back

“Shuichi!” Kaito boomed, causing you to wince as he dragged you to the table he occupied

“Ah-kaito! Who uh, did you bring?”

“This is...uh...”

“Y/n...”

“Y/n!” Kaito slapped you on the back. “They’re your soulmate!”

Both of you faltered at the sudden statement, looking at each other with surprise in your eyes

“My...soulmate?” The boy in front of you finally said before pulling out a notebook from his book bag

“So this must be yours?” Shuichi handed you the book, and you recognized it as your own journal

“Yes!” You flipped through it, glad to see it unharmed. “So, this one must be yours?”

You returned his identical journal, not missing the flash of joy in his eyes as he grazed his fingertips on the spine “oh, thank you!”

You two stared at each other for a moment, taking in the idea of finally finding your soulmate when a hand was clasped on both of your shoulders

“So!” Boomed Kaito. “Are you two going to have a date now or what?”

“Uh, yeah...yeah!” Shuichi spoke, softly grabbing your empty hand. “I want to learn more about the one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

The soft smile he flashed caused your heart to skip a beat. “Yeah...I’d love that.”

Kiibo

Everyone rumors of the very unlucky few who don’t meet their soulmates in their dreams

Some say they’re doomed for a life of loneliness, while others hypothesize that they will be matched with another dreamless person

Yet these people were rare, almost never heard of, so no one worried

But when you realized you never once glimpsed a potential soulmate in your dreams, you panicked

Was it just a late start? Was your soulmate dead? Were you defective?

You kept your worries to yourself, opting to tell people vague answers when asked about your dreams

You didn’t want to be pitied, you wanted to feel loved

You knew it was fruitless, but you knew that some people who were known to not have dreams of their soulmates found them anyways, but that was just a rumor

Still, the idea that possibly, just possibly, you could figure out someone is your soulmate without a dream kept hope in your soul

You happened to find a few people who were dreamless, who told you that when they found their soulmates, it was a feeling rather than a vision

With this hope in your heart, you continued your life, everyday praying that a new encounter would lead to that one person meant for you

And while it never did, you kept your head high

Until your little brothers drone broke while he was playing with it in the backyard, accidentally flying it into a tree and snapping some wiring in it

our parent had asked you to take it to a local repair shop to see if I was worth it to repair it instead of just buying another one

So you went, begrudgingly, to a downtown store that had confirmed over a phone call that they could fix the problem

When you got there however, you noticed smoke coming out of the building, and gasped at the idea of a fire happening

However, there were no flames in sight, nor panicking citizens or firemen

Cautiously, you walked in

Inside was a worker, the one you spoke to on the phone, you assumed

And with him was a...boy?

Smoke was pouring from the boys arm, as well as sporadic sparks here and there

The chime of the door opening must’ve alerted the two, as they turned to look at the new arrival

“You must’ve called about the drone,” the worker said with a small smile, eyeing the toy in your hands. “I’ll be right with you after helping this gentleman”

However, his words fell on deaf ears as you stared at the smoking customer, who stared back in return

Your vision felt blurry, yet somehow crystal clear

A sense of weightlessness washed over you as the boys eyes lit up, quite literally

And then his arm gave a small burst of sparks that caught into a small fire

The worker rushed to put out the fire on the teens arm as you absentmindedly walked over to him

“Did you...feel that?”

“I think so,” the boy said nervously, eyes shifting around your figure. “I’ve never felt an emotion like that before. Or an emotion in general.”

You gave a small giggle, causing the boy to again physically light up at your reaction, and again spark his arm

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You said, cheeks reddening. “It’s just...”

“I’m your soulmate.”

Taken aback by what the boy so calmly said, you gave him a bewildered look

“I mean,” the boy started again, as the worker tried to quickly fix his arm, probably in fear of his workshop burning down. “I just have a lot of data on how dreamless people find their soulmates, since technically I can’t dream...”

It made sense, his train of thought. As you looked over it was easy to tell he wasn’t really human. It didn’t freak you out however, as the feeling of simply finding the one for you made all of the worries in the back of your mind go away

The atmosphere settled into an awkward silence as you stared at each other, until the worker closed the boys arm with a clang

“There, done! Now please, leave before my shop burns down...”

He turned to leave, but turned back to you

He spit a piece of paper from his mouth, and you noticed it had a phone number on it

“Call me sometime, I am quite literally my own phone so I won’t miss it.”

You gave another small laugh before pocketing the slip of paper

“Thank you, uh...”

“Kiibo.”

“Thank you, Kiibo”

I will probably disappear for another 3 months, so nag me to write!

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa v3 imagine #danganronpa kiibo #kiibo #kaede akamatsu #danganronpa kaede #danganronpa shuichi #shuichi saihara #drv3 shuichi #shuichi #kiibo x reader #keade x reader #shuichi x reader #kokichi x reader #kokichi #kokichi ouma #danganronpa kokichi #danganronpa x reader

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 3 years

Note

okay hi its me again 💃💃 anw, an angst to fluff quote no 11 atsumu written hoho <33

Christmas lights decorated the dimly lit pathway that led to the heart of the city, which was temporarily transformed into ‘Santa’s Square’. The trio of Christmas colours glimmered against the freshly fallen snow that bathed the cement, masking the imperfections that are usually quite visible during the warmer seasons. With the bottom of your boots, you traced the initials “M.A” into the ground below, as a faint smile adorned your features. There were a few reasons you found yourself captivated by the white substance rather than the displays surrounding you. You admired how its presence alone could turn what is fractured and unpleasant into something beautiful and admired. But you also were thankful for its existence. Despite the surge of emptiness that came with the holiday season, the snow would greet you with such joy, that you would forget you were completely and utterly alone.

As an icy wind collided against your face, dragging along with it a patch of snowflakes, your fingers twitched inside your crocheted mittens. Though, your reaction was rooted solely in your surprise – there was nothing unpleasant about the sensation. Rather, the icy substance soothed your swollen features, a consequence of spending the last thirty minutes silently sobbing to yourself. Rubbing away at the melted snowflakes clinging against your cheeks, the fiery ache that ignited inside of your core fell silent, subdued by the act of compassion by mother nature herself.

It was nothing new after all, each year had become a repeat of the last, until you were stuck in an endless loop. Christmas time could never be what you truly wished for, at least not until you found a new family – one that was not cursed with poisoned shadows they called souls.

But it was supposed to be different this year – you could have survived it all, as long as he was there.

As long as he showed up.

The glimmering fairy lights hung against the streetlamps reminded you of that smile of his, the one that matched the radiance of the sun itself. Another set of tears struck your waterline, yet this time you refused to allow their release. You knew dating a pro volleyball player would be difficult, and this was certainly not your first time spending a holiday alone. And instead of continuing to wallow, you directed your mind to focus on the euphoric aura enveloping the Christmas festival. Dozens of families roamed the square, their laughter lacing into the traditional melodies that were sung by the choir with such cheer. Maybe one day you would join them, creating new traditions of your own, alongside your pretty setter.

Yes. Maybe one day.

The thought brought a sad smile to your lips as you lifted your gaze to the heavens, permitting the snowflakes to sprinkle against your face.

For now, this would be enough, as long as the snow remained by your side.

“Oi. Y/n! What’re you doin’?”

Your y/e/c irises expanded in size as you whipped your head in the direction where the sound originated from. Disbelief painted your features, leading your mouth to slightly open at the male rushing towards you.

“Are ya tryna get sick?” Atsumu growled out the words in disappointment between his uneven breaths, waving the scarf in his hand like a flag in the air. “Why would ya leave without this!” When he finally reached you, the male exhaled a long sigh, while draping the knitted piece around your neck.

“‘Tsumu… How did you…” With your eyes soaking in his delicate features, your bottom lip wobbled, prompting the resurfacing of the tears you banished minutes prior.

“I went to yer house and yer sister told me what happened. You think I’d miss another Christmas? I already feel bad I missed our first two…” His fingers worked to fasten the scarf around you, while a small pout twisted upon his mouth. “Now I find ya crying in Santa’s Square? I really have been a terrible boyfriend. Please let me make it up to ya.”

“It’s okay…You being here is enough.” Overwhelmed by the pleasure that swarmed you from his presence, you slipped your arms around his middle, before burying your face into his chest. But Atsumu’s heart sunk into his stomach hearing the tremble in your voice. He should have been there earlier – he should have been there to comfort you when it all went wrong. You had done so much for him, you always stayed despite the hardships that came with dating him.

“Hey, y/n.” As he brushed his palm against your back, a tender kiss was applied to your head. “I’m sorry for not being there. But I promise I won’t let ya go through this alone again. From now on, it’ll be you and me, baby. We’ll make our own traditions.”

Atsumu did not know the significance of his words, soothing you with his words and presence came natural to him. That was why you stayed, there was no one who could impact you in sucha way. All the loneliness was worth it, as long as you had him waiting for you at the end of the day.

“Can we start today?” The question was asked in a whisper after you adjusted your stance. The blonde blinked down at you curiosity clear in his irises, and within seconds he broke into a large grin.

“Hell ya! Let’s make some memories.”

The remainder of the evening was filled with adventure, and for the first time in years, you were able to escape the cycle of loneliness that came attached to the holiday season. The worries that clouded over you were no match for the harmonic laughter of your boyfriend, who was goofily engaging in every activity the festival offered. The last activity on the setter’s imaginary list was to take a photograph with Santa. The lineup mostly contained young children, albeit that did not stop the blonde from entering, dragging you along with him.

“I know you want a photo together, ‘Tsumu but why can’t we just ask someone to take one of us in front of a tree or something?” With the recent temperature drop, your mittens were no longer a source of warmth. Right now, what you desired was to cuddle by a fireplace with your boyfriend.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Atsumu snuck his arms around you, aiming to provide you some of his body heat before resting his chin against your shoulder. “I told ya I wanna start some traditions. This will be one of them.” Exhaling a barely audible breath, he nuzzled into your cheek.

“Can’t we make a tradition of drinking hot chocolate and snuggling instead?” You appreciated his determination to have a perfect Christmas experience, but you could easily achieve that without sitting on a stranger’s lap. “Why a photo of Santa, hm?”

“I wanna have something to track the years. For the next few years it’ll jus’ be us. But one day there will be mini Miya’s joinin’ us. I don’t know. Don’t ya think that’d be cute?” Soon his cheeks were coloured in embarrassment, a fact he tried to hide by pressing his face against your scarf.

“Atsumu, I hate you.” Jutting your bottom lip, you covered your face with your palm, letting out a childish whine. “We’re next in line and now I’m about to cry! You big oaf!”

Overcome with emotions himself, he tightened his grip around you. “Well, our future kid is gonna be real curious about this photo!” Chuckling lowly, he nudged you forward as the costumed Santa beckoned you over. Truthfully, you were no longer opposed to the idea, and when Santa suggested you sit on his lap, you complied. Atsumu, on the other hand simply leaned against the large chair, grinning contently.

Just before the photo was taken, you stole a glance at your boyfriend, with love warming your features.

You see, Miya Atsumu was your snow. While his presence alone could disguise the pain sewn into your sleeves, it was his love that could heal the wounds of your heart. And just like the snow, he would be there every Christmas, reminding you that you would never be truly alone.

A/N: IDK 🤧🥲 BYE LMAOOOOO I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS

General taglist: @haikyuufairy @newfriendjen @chocolaterumble @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @graykageyama @amberalisa @yourstarvic @swoonhui @chaichai-the-weeb @dreamstormings @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @volleybloop @rajablast @idiot-juice-enthusiast @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut @athenarosaline

#atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #haikyuu #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #storytime with jan ❤️

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

A New Kind Of Misery (Part 2)

Summary: After a night out, the reader wakes up the next day to discover her soulmate mark is now on her body. Except she has no idea who they are…

Pairing: soulmate!Dean x Actress!reader

Part 1

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 5,900ish

Warnings: language, brief nudity

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo

____

“Alright,” said Dean as you sipped on a beer on your couch, Dean pacing back and forth in the family room. You watched him go, smiling at him as you took him in. “I’m obviously not explaining this correctly or else you’d be freaking out.”

“Your mom was killed by a demon which led to your dad going on a vengeance trip in which you and your brother got dragged along. You were raised on the road and into this hunting life. Your dad died, the demon is dead but a whole lot of other stuff happened and you hunt monsters. I don’t think I left anything out,” you said. You held out the still full beer sat on the coffee table to him. “You got to try it. It’s from this brewery out near Napa and-”

“You are a little celebrity. I’ve been on the most wanted list. I’m legally dead and a criminal. You and me, we don’t mix.”

“Just because I act doesn’t give you a right to talk down to me,” you said. You got to your feet and he rolled his eyes. “I earned everything in this house. It wasn’t given to me. I did that.”

“My point being is that you live in an incredibly nice house and have money out your ass and your biggest worry is probably who sat next to who at some celebrity party or whatever. My problems? Life or death, every single day.”

“I thought I made it extremely clear,” you said, putting your drink down and getting in his face. You grabbed his arm and tugged down his jacket sleeve to reveal his matching mark. “We’re soulmates. I’m with you, you’re with me. There’s not getting out of it.”

“I’m not...listen,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and guiding you to sit down. He went with you, giving you a forced smile. “So we’re soulmates. It does not mean we have to be together. You can stay here with your life and I can go back to mine. This never has to be an issue.”

“You’re something else,” you said, shrugging him off. You stood and left the room, heading upstairs to your room. You sat down on the floor and leaned back against the bed, reaching underneath for a shoebox. You pulled it out and opened the lid, taking out the small drawing you’d done years ago. It was a ring of fire, something you’d done in school when you learned about your marks. It was supposed to be an exercise on reflection and what you thought you mark would be. You remembered being scolded for drawing it but holding it up to your wrist, it was a near perfect match.

“What’s that,” he asked. You hadn’t heard him come in and shoved the drawing back in the box. “I remember doing that in school too. I drew the flames in a circle back then.”

“Why don’t you want me?” you asked quietly. He sighed and sat down on the other side of the box, tucking his knees up.

“Not a matter of what I want, sweetheart. It’s what’s right and what’s wrong. Getting you killed doesn’t seem very right to me,” he said. He flipped off the lid of the box, staring inside. “That a picture of you and your family?”

“Yeah. My parents and older brother,” you said.

“You’re cute,” he said, skimming through a few pictures. “These are important to you.”

“Our house had a fire when I was little. I took my bear and box out with me,” you said.

“Maybe it’s why we got flames. We both had fires growing up.”

“I don’t care what you do or how dangerous it is. It sounds like you’re really important actually. But no matter what you do, the most wrong thing you can do in the world is reject your soulmate.”

“You will die in my world. Even if I wanted to teach you, something will hurt you, take you, torture you, kill you, all before I even have a chance. You will be in pain and horrified and I might not be able to stop it. It’s not an if, it’s a when. And I can’t do your world. I just can’t. You live in the spotlight. I hide in the shadows. Coming here once was a risk I could justify but anything more and something might follow me and come after you. This conversation is all it can ever be,” he said.

“Be selfish and tell me what you want.”

He turned towards you and reached his hand up to your face, pulling you into a deep kiss. His jaw was a gentle kind of scratchy, his lips so damn soft and you could feel your wrist warm at your mark. He broke off and looked down, a deeper black making it up now.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck.”

“Cementing our bond? Tough shit. Now we need to-”

“You need to-” he said before you felt like you’d been hit in the gut. You gasped, a rush of who he was down in his soul hitting you. He grunted and grabbed your hand, riding through it himself. It felt wrong though, so much pain and trauma filling you up in your core. “Y/N. Y/N, breathe. It’ll be over in a second.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, taking another gasping breath. “You’re not feeling this bad ever again.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. It’s not-”

“We’ll make it work,” you said, his hands catching you as you started to fall. The dark pit in your stomach began to subside and you shut your eyes, putting your head between your knees. Dean picked you up and sat you on your bed, sitting close by as he ran a hand over your head. “What was that?”

“I may have left out the part where I was in Hell for 40 years,” he said. You jerked your head up and stared at him, water forming in your eyes. “Don’t cry about it.”

“I’m sorry I care about you. It’s not like we’re connected on every level or anything,” you said. You rested your head down again, Dean moving his arm over your shoulders.

“I spent 30 being tortured. Then I couldn’t take it anymore so I picked up a blade and tortured for a decade. I became the star pupil,” he said. You risked a glance over, Dean staring at the bedding.

“I don’t know how you lasted that long. I couldn’t...s’not your fault for doing that. You had to stop the pain,” you said. He pulled his arm away and rested his hands in his lap. “Dean. It’s alright.”

“That is the tip of the shitty iceberg. You have to stay away from me.”

“No,” you said with a smile. “I’m sorry but no.”

“Why?” he asked. “You don’t know me.”

“I don’t, but we kinda do. You would not have come here if you could really stay away. We’re connected. No matter our situations, it’ll work,” you said.

“God, you’re as stubborn as I am,” he said.

“Looks like it. Can we agree to try at the very least?”

He was quiet, absently staring at his wrist. He ran his thumb over it and you caught sight of some light scars on his body.

“Your life is scary but it doesn’t mean the scary stuff is going to make me run away. I’ll learn and so will you,” you said.

“I can’t date the lead actress in one of the biggest Netflix shows,” he said. “The second I’m in the public eye-”

“There are ways around the public eye, Dean. No one even knew I spent most of the past year dating someone,” you said.

“Really?”

“Really. I can sneak out of here very easily. We know we can’t walk away from each other.”

“I’m in charge though. I need to stay away, I stay away.”

“I’ll let you think you’re in charge if that makes you feel better,” you said with a smile. He grumbled and you moved over to his lap, his pretty green eyes watching you the whole time. “It’s not me, right?”

“What’s not you?” he asked softly.

“You being so hesitant. It’s because you want me to stay safe, right. It’s not because you don’t...you know...like me,” you said. Something in his face changed and there was a fluttering in your chest. He slid his hand up to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, hot breath fanning over your face when he moved away an inch.

“Don’t ever say something like that again,” he murmured. “I need you and that’s scaring the shit out of me.”

“I completely understand,” you said. “My brother told me it feels like you’ve known them forever and you just met them all at once.”

“Pretty good way of putting it,” he said. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t stay,” he said. He was looking over to the doorframe and you saw another man there. You jumped off of Dean but he held up a hand. “It’s just my little brother. That’s Sam.”

“Hey,” said Sam with a quick wave. “De. The nest. We gotta go before it starts to get dark.”

“Nest?” you asked as Dean stood up.

“Yeah. Vamp nest. It’s what brought us to LA in the first place. It get dangerous if we wait until night. I’ll be back later, okay?” said Dean. You nodded and watched as he headed out of the room.

“Be careful,” you said, catching them in the hall. He smiled and you returned it. “Wait a second. Can I come?”

“No,” he said, the smile wiped clean off his face.

“We said we’d try though.”

“Y/N. Stay. I’ll be back later,” he said.

“Alright. You guys can stay here tonight if you want,” you said.

“I’ll be back,” said Dean. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

He took off down the stairs with his brother and you frowned, hearing the front door shut. You jogged down to your office and sat down behind your laptop. You grabbed a notebook from the drawer and a pen, turning over a new page before you were on the internet. For a beat you paused but then you were searching vampires and writing down anything and everything you could about them.

Four Hours Later

“Hey,” said Dean, knocking on your office door. You jumped, Dean smirking to himself. “You weren’t-”

“Oh my God,” you said as you stood up and saw him covered in blood. You were wide eyed but he laughed. “You need a hospital!”

“This is from the vamps. I have a few bruises I think but that’s all,” he said. You walked up to him and looked him over, Dean carefully keeping an eye on you. “Y/N? You gonna freak out on me?”

“No. You can clean up in my shower,” you said. “I can order takeout.”

“Alright,” he said, glancing over at your computer. He followed you upstairs and to your bedroom. You flipped on the light as you headed into the bathroom, Dean taking it all in. You found some big towels for him and set them down on the counter. He was staring in the mirror when he seen he’d been caught by you. “You have a gorgeous bathroom and I look like a brute.”

“It’s just a bathroom,” you said, showing him the shower. “Feel free to use my stuff to wash up. I’ll try to clean those clothes of yours up for you while you’re in here.”

“Bleach and elbow grease normally works,” he said as he started to take off his jacket. “You really don’t have to. This stuff is gross.”

“Blood in clothes doesn’t bother me,” you said. “I’ll uh, give you your privacy.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” said Dean. “It’s not like were not going to see each other naked at some point anyways.”

He undressed and left his wallet on the counter along with his phone and watch. He got down to a pair of black boxer briefs and you cocked your head.

“What?” he asked.

“You have a very cute butt,” you said. He smirked and shook his head. “What?”

“Should have seen your own ass in season 1,” he said.

“Take your shower, goofball,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Oh. How do you take your steak?”

“Medium? Why?” he asked.

“I’m getting us takeout, remember?” you said.

“We have very different definitions of takeout,” he said. “Don’t get me like some vegetable on the side please. Vegetables aren’t my thing.”

“French fries?”

“More than okay,” he said. You found your hooded robe from your closet and put it on the counter as well, hoping that it was oversized enough to at least get his top half covered up for dinner. You ducked outside and went to the laundry room to grab the empty basket, returning to the sound of the shower on and Dean’s bare backside greeting you.

“Damn,” you said to yourself. He looked over his shoulder with a shy smile but he didn’t cover himself up. You felt heat in your cheeks and quickly gathered up his clothes and took them to the laundry. You called for some dinner before you set out trying to clean the clothes, quickly realizing this was going to be more difficult than you thought. You pursed your lips, quiet footsteps behind you.

“I can get that,” said Dean in a towel around his waist. His hair was damp and you spotted a few stray droplets he’d missed wiping off of his chest.

“It’s alright. Relax. You had a rough night,” you said. He smiled and stepped beside you, taking the bottle of stain remover from your hands.

“You got some gloves?” he asked. You pointed up to the cabinet over the sink and he reached up to pull down two pairs of rubber ones. He slipped it on and bundled his clothes up in the sink before he grabbed a bucket on the floor and filled it up with some water and mixed in some bleach. He set the bucket in the sink and poured some on his clothes, humming as he started to roughly scrub the clothes between his gloves and you began to see red stain come out. When it looked good he would toss it in your washer and wash what he could down the sink. “Easy peasy.”

“Do you not have any other clothes?” you asked.

“I’m not much of a clothes guy,” he said. “I have my duffel in my car with some. I didn’t really think to grab it before Sammy went back to the motel.”

“A motel? He could have stayed here,” you said. He shrugged and took off his gloves.

“We’re simple,” he said. “Your uh, robe was a little short.”

“What size are you?” you asked, pulling out your phone.

“XL. Why?” you asked.

“One hour delivery,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes. Dinner’s going to take a bit anyways. Do you like salmon?”

“To eat?”

“No, the color,” you said, showing him a hoodie on your phone. He raised an eyebrow and you glanced in the washer. “Black?”

“Black is good. Really, Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I can’t hunt and I’m not great at washing up vampire blood apparently but I can do this for you,” you said.

“Alright,” he said. You turned on the washer and you headed downstairs, getting Dean a blanket to wrap around himself while he took a seat on the couch. You gave him the remote and ordered a few things for him before going into your office and putting away your notebook. When you returned he was watching an old episode of Scooby doo and you smiled, taking a seat on the couch beside him. “Were you researching vampires while I was gone?”

“A bit,” you said.

“I have a journal I can send you. It’s got the actual information you need in there,” he said. “On anything and everything.”

“Cool,” you said. “I’m guessing the garlic thing isn’t real.”

“No, no. The sun irritates them but it’s not like they can’t go out in it. I had a buddy who was one, wore sunglasses and a coat out and he was pretty good,” said Dean. You went wide eyed and he smiled. “Not all monsters are bad just like not all people are good. It’s a gray world. I have a good friend that’s a werewolf.”

“Your life is so weird.”

“My best friend is an angel. My other friend is the Queen of Hell,” he said. “Oh and I help raise the son of Lucifer.”

“I can’t believe you’re not besties with God too,” you laughed. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Chuck’s a dick but he’s dead at least,” said Dean.

“Did you just say God is dead?”

“Like I said, it’s a gray world.”

“Right.”

You slumped back into the couch and shut your eyes.

“When you said your life is dangerous…”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a lot of weird stuff.”

“How do you get through it? Who takes care of you?”

“Me and my brother just push through it. It’s what we’ve always done,” he said.

“It seems like an incredibly hard life.”

“It has it’s moments. Your life can’t be easy either.”

“I make a TV show,” you said. You crossed your arms and absently watched the cartoon. Dean moved beside you and you felt his arm slid around your waist. “I don’t even watch horror movies because I get scared. Your life is a horror movie.”

“Yet you’re still here,” he said. “Not only that, but you’re trying. Let me try and do the same.”

“I make a TV show,” you said again.

“You’re telling me there’s no pressure involved with that?”

“No. There’s an incredible amount of pressure. It’s not life and death though.”

“Yeah but you doing a really good job, that gives a ton of other people jobs. It puts food on their tables, pays for the roof over their head. You sacrifice your privacy, your time. Your job is harder than you make it seem.”

“If it wasn’t me in the job, it’d be some other actress,” you said.

“Trust me, people watch for you,” he said.

“Do you...watch the show?”

“Yeah. We always binge the new season when it comes out. It’s good,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said, something tickling at the back of your mind. You took out your phone and checked your messages, groaning when you saw the one’s from Patrick. “I completely forgot I’m supposed to go to a party tonight. It’s for Danny, my co-lead. He’s like my brother. I…”

“Go,” said Dean with a smile. “It’s okay.”

“You could come if you wanted? After dinner,” you said. Dean made a face and you smiled. “It’s private, I promise. Danny’s a quiet guy.”

“Okay,” said Dean.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m sure people are going to notice your mark appeared anyways. I don’t think introducing me to some trusted friends is a problem,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll let him know we’ll be a little late.”

“My black hoodie is dressy enough?” he asked.

“It’s a backyard party with beer and a bonfire. You’ll fit right in.”

“That steak was so good,” said Dean, rubbing his stomach as you got out of your car at Danny’s house.

“Good. You deserved it after going all Buffy today,” you said.

“Was that a tease, princess?” he smirked.

“I think it was, Buffy,” you laughed. You grabbed his hand, led him around to the back gate and walked around the house to the patio. There were less than ten people there and you knew all of them, Danny turning his head and catching you. “Hey birthday boy!”

“About time! Seriously though, you just met your soulmate today. You didn’t have to come, Y/N,” he said, giving you a hug. “I’m Danny.”

“Dean,” he said, shaking Danny’s hand. They shared a strange look with one another before they broke off.

“Winchester?” asked Danny quietly. He nodded and Dean smiled. “Haven’t seen you in...fourteen years?”

“I’m 32 so that’s about right,” said Dean. “How’s the family?”

“Good. We laugh about it now,” said Danny. “Tell your dad thanks again when you get a chance.”

“He died a few years back.”

“That’s too bad,” he said before he looked at you.

“Keep her safe,” said Danny.

“I plan on it,” said Dean.

“Well there’s drinks in the fridge or you’re welcome to the liquor cabinet. Y/N can show you,” he said.

“How do you-” you said as Danny shook his head.

“Some stuff, you just don’t talk about, Y/N,” he said. “We’ll keep him under wraps tonight.”

“Thanks, Danny,” you said. You guided Dean inside and set Danny’s present down on his kitchen table, heading over to the counter where he’d set out some alcohol. “So. How do you know him?”

“Ghoul case in his town when I was about eighteen. He was a few years younger if I remember. Him and his brother Joe got into a bit of a mess. We got them out of it,” he said.

“How many people have you saved?” you asked.

“What?”

“How many have you saved?” you asked as you started to make yourself a whiskey sour.

“I don’t really keep track of that sort of thing. I think more about the ones I couldn’t save to be honest.”

“I’m going to guess you’ve saved more than you lost,” you said. “Cut yourself a break.”

“Self-hate is kinda my thing,” he said with a chuckle.

“We’ll see about that,” you said, grabbing another glass. “You want one?”

“Sure,” he said. “You know, just cause we’re soulmates and we’re trying doesn’t mean you’re gonna fix me.”

“I’m not trying to fix you. I just...wish you saw what I did.”

“You barely know me.”

“True. But my soul knows your soul very well. Let’s call it a gut feeling,” you said. He hummed and you made another drink for him, Dean carrying it out to the backyard. You introduced him to a few more people and found a pair of seats by the fire. He relaxed more the longer you were there but you knew he was nervous. After a few hours you said your goodbyes and headed home with him, Dean easing up once you were back at the house.

“It’s getting kind of late,” he said.

“Do you want to head to bed?” you asked.

“I think...I’m going to grab my stuff and head back to the motel. Sam and I have a long drive in the morning,” he said. You stared at him and he rubbed the back of his neck. “This’ll never work. I can’t...I can’t pretend. I could barely pretend in front of eight people tonight. We don’t live in a bubble. I’m sorry, Y/N. This isn’t going to work,” he said.

“Then leave,” you said. You went upstairs to the laundry room and took his things out of the dryer, carrying them down and shoving them in his arms. “Never come back.”

“Y/N. If you weren’t-”

“But I am, Dean. I’m in the public eye and you hide from it. Fine. Go hunt and I’ll stay here and we’ll both be miserable. I was never asking you to give up what you do, you know. It scares me but I was willing to try. You lasted two hours at a party with my friends who think you fix cars for a living. It’s obvious you wanted a way out. You’ve wanted out since you came here. So just go and stay away.”

He looked down and went outside, waiting on your front steps for about twenty minutes before you heard a car pick him up.

You wiped off your face and went up to bed, crawling under the covers and wishing you’d never met him in the first place.

Three Months Later

“Back off!” you shouted at the guy dragging you down a hall in a sketchy warehouse. You kicked your leg back and hit him hard but he didn’t budge an inch. He dragged you over to a chair and tied you to it before pulling out a sharp looking knife. “I have money. You can-”

“I’m a demon, sweetie. I need to talk to your boy toy,” he said.

“I haven’t spoken to him in months. I barely know the guy,” you said.

“Hm, not what your internet search history says. You suddenly into the supernatural now?”

“Why is a demon checking my browser history?” you asked.

“Honey, the second word got out that Dean Winchester’s soulmate was out there, every demon with a bone to pick with him went looking for you. I just so happened to get lucky and possess a guy in your manager’s office.”

“Lovely,” you mumbled, swallowing when he pointed the blade at you. “Maybe we can negotiate a deal before you use that.”

“My deal will be with Dean, not you. He’ll be dead and so will you so I wouldn’t-”

“Cory my dear,” said a female voice behind him in the darkness. He glanced over his shoulder and shot straight up.

“Rowena! How nice to-”

“Cory. What did I tell you about the Winchesters?” she asked.

“They’re hunters. There’s no such thing as off limits hunters,” he said.

“Go,” she said, snapping her fingers. You stared as she stepped into view and she gave you a smile. “Hi dearie. Don’t worry about him. He’s off in purgatory.”

“Dean said you guys were friends, right,” you said.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “Would you like to go see him?”

“Not-” you said, suddenly in the middle of a large room. You spun around, books everywhere, tables here and there and Dean eating cold pizza out of the box at one of them.

“Y/N?” he said, getting up and looking to Rowena. “What happened?”

“Troublesome demon took her. She’s fine and he’s dealt with. It was nice meeting you. I’d stick around but you two look like you need to have a conversation,” she said. She disappeared and you blinked, Dean walking over to you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling your hand away when he reached for yours. “Just drive me home.”

“We’re in Kansas.”

“...Well, drive me to a rental car place and I’ll drive home myself,” you said. “How do I get out of here?”

You tried to go past but he caught your arms, sliding his hand down to your mark. You glared at him and he sighed, running his thumb over the skin there.

“This changes absolutely nothing you realize. Stay out of my life,” you said. You tugged on your arm and he let you go. “Where’s the exit?”

“Just...give me a second,” he said. He went over to a cabinet by the wall and opened a bottom drawer, pulling out a folder. He set it down on a table and opened it up, an ID and other documents in there. “I need to be anonymous. It has to be just us. No friends. No family. It’s too dangerous. But we can go places and be alone. You can come-”

“Anywhere I go there is a chance I am recognized and a chance someone takes a picture and it ends up on the internet. People are already dying to know who you are. This only works if you give up what you do or I give up what I do and that’s not fair to either one of us.”

“Then from now on in public, I’m Dean Campbell. It’s what I go by around here. I’m just a quiet Kansas boy who works on cars for a living who will try to stay out of the limelight and the other part of the time, I’ll go do my job,” he said.

“Just like that, you’ve changed your mind.”

“Not just like that. It takes time to forge a new identity. People will ask questions. Now they have answers,” he said. “This stuff is out there if anyone wants to go digging. It took time to get it in place.”

“How long?”

“About three months. We have to do it ourselves and to make it credible, it takes time.”

“So what was your next move?”

“Get out to LA. Stand at your door. Hope you could understand.”

“A demon kidnapped me today.”

“I don’t guarantee that doesn’t happen again,” he said. “All I can offer is my crappy soul.”

“It’s not crappy,” you said, taking a seat. “Dean, you walking away like that hurt. A lot. Even for good reasons, it hurt. I’m not ready to try and date you.”

“I get it,” he said.

“Friends?”

“I’m okay with that,” he said. “I know I’m pushing but would you want to stay the night?”

“Sure. Just as friends though.”

“Just friends, I promise.”

Two Months Later

“Did you see that!” you said, Dean shaking his head as you jogged back over to Baby. “I shot a ghost!”

“That’s real good, sweetheart,” said Dean as he kept trying to light a match. You spotted the ghost behind him again and shot, Dean nearly jumping down into the grave.

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” he said before he tossed the match in. He took a deep breath and walked back over to you, giving you a once over. “Not bad for a princess.”

“I’m supposed to be getting ready to go to a network party right now,” you said.

“Yeah but hunting’s more fun,” he said, wiping a bit of dirt off your cheek. “Get scared at all?”

“Oh definitely! But I think I got that adrenaline high thing right now,” you said, Dean chuckling as he took the shotgun from you.

“Just a smidge,” he said. “I got a surprise for you.”

“What?”

You blinked and found yourself back home in LA with Dean, Rowena giving you a wave before she disappeared from view.

“Want to go to your party?” he asked.

“Why are you here though?” you asked.

“Because after a hunt, you go out and celebrate.”

“What about Sam? And the car?”

“Baby’s fine with Sammy. Come on. I bet I look good in a tux,” he said.

“Dean,” you said, smiling at him. “Want to stay home instead?”

“Yes,” he said and you let out a big laugh. “The party is fine too. Just...home is better. Actually a diner would be amazing.”

“I know a place,” you said. “Let’s go take a ride.”

“You have the best pie,” said Dean to the waitress about an hour later. She laughed and you munched on a french fry, Dean already wolfing down his last bite.

“Can we get another piece of the cherry for him and I’ll take a slice of that chocolate looking one,” you said.

“No problem,” she said. After a moment she returned with the food, Dean diving into his pie again.

��I knew you liked pie. This must be really good,” you said.

“I place it at number four. Above Sally’s in Bismark but just below 511 outside Phoenix,” he said. “This is high quality pie we’ve got here.”

“Part of the after hunt tradition?” you asked.

“On the good hunts, yeah,” he said.

“What we did tonight, that was super easy, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah. But you start small. I wouldn’t mind keeping you away from the big hunts permanently,” he said.

“Going soft on me there, Winchester?” you asked.

“Maybe,” he said. He leaned over the table and gave you a kiss. He smiled when he moved back to his seat and took a bite of his pie with a hum.

“You kissed me. In public.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” he said, smirking to himself.

“I hadn’t realized we shifted into dating,” you said.

“Y/N. If you never wanted me to be anything more than a friend, I’d live with it. I deserve it for how I acted before. But-”

“No, you don’t,” you said, standing up and sliding into the booth beside him. “I want us to be together because we want to, not because you felt like you owed me.”

“What about the rules of being soulmates?” he asked.

“Screw the rules,” you said. He smiled and slid his plate of pie in front of you.

“Well I don’t share top ten pie with just anybody,” he said. “Maybe next week I can go to your premiere party.”

“You don’t have to,” you said.

“I know. I want to.”

“Okay,” you said. He took your hand under the table and returned to eating, absently brushing his thumb over your mark. “Dean?”

“Mhm?” he said.

“Don’t call your soul crappy again. It’s beat up but not crappy.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s you. I need someone to believe what I have a hard time doing myself.”

“We’ll get there,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Now how about that pie, Winchester.”

_________

#spndeanbingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #au

281 notes · View notes

lavishedinjimin · 4 years

Text

bts reaction -> you’re so submissive that it turns him on

just a liittle something something <3

Namjoon:

“Fucking hell, look at you,” he groans, watching how your legs quivered and shake just after your second orgasm of the night. His cock was dripping with precum and it twitches whenever you let out a whimper. He hovers above you as his fingers were still rubbing your wet pussy.

“O-oh,” you mewled when he flicks your sensitive, little clit.

Namjoon smirks, liking your reaction. “You’re so fucking sensitive already, baby girl. Your body reacts to even the slightest bit of pleasure, hmm?” he brings his hand up to pinch your hard nipples, tugging on them maliciously. You couldn’t help how your eyes rolled back from the pleasure and pain. “I love how you let me control your body, sweetheart.”

Seokjin:

Jin had all of the boys over for the night and you were cuddled up beside him on the couch. Everyone was drunk from drinking too much beer, the movie completely forgotten in the background. Your boyfriend’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders as he kept you close to him, feeling his warmth throughout your body.

“Y/n looks so cute hugging Seokjin-hyung like that.” Taehyung chuckles as he looks at how your knees were tucked up in front of your chest, your arms around Seokjin’s body. Everyone immediately directs their attention at you, making your cheeks blush. “Like a baby clinging onto her daddy.”

Taehyung’s words cause a series of ‘ooooh!’s around the living room. You couldn’t help but blush even more and croon your face into Seokjin’s shoulder. Your boyfriend chuckles and tugs your body tighter, “Taehyung’s words sounded too familiar, huh?”

Yoongi:

“On your knees, little girl. Don’t make me ask again.”

He feels his cock twitch with how fast you obey him, your knees hitting the ground, finally being face to face with his clothed dick. “Oh, darling,” he coos, stroking your left cheek gently with his thumb. “You look so fucking pretty like this. Shit,” he curses when he sees the way you look up at him with your big, innocent eyes.

Yoongi growls as he pushes his boxers down, letting his dick spring free. You gasp when you felt the tip of his dick hit your cheek. “Mhmm, babygirl likes what she sees?” He teases, stroking his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, feeling so powerless in this given situation.

“I want you to look at me while I fuck this little mouth, okay? I don’t fucking care if you choke or gag, I wanna see tears dripping down your cheek.” You whimper at his filthy words, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. He prods the tip of his cock against your lips, “Open.”

Hoseok:

Hoseok was smirking, running his tongue along his lips as he was backing you slowly against the wall. He was towering over your frail body, watching how you gulp, how your eyes were desperately trying to find a way out, how your hands were getting sweaty. He loves the effect he has on you. It turns him on to see how much your body reacts to the simplest actions he makes.

“Now, now, baby. You’re in so much fucking trouble, you have nowhere to hide.”

He keeps walking until you hit the wall behind you. You whimper when he suddenly forces his body on yours, pinning your wrists against the cold cement. His mouth ghosts against your neck, his lips barely grazing on your skin yet the feeling was getting too much for you to handle. He growls, and that sent a shiver to run down your spine.

“You want to make it up to me baby girl?” he rasps, and you quickly nod your head up and down.

“Aww, princess. You know that I won't go easy on you, right?” You look up at him with a confused look, “W-what?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “I’m gonna use that cute body of yours until I get satisfied, baby. Gonna fuck you senseless until you learned your lesson, clear?”

Jimin:

Jimin starts circling your little figure, walking around as he pretends to ponder, “Hmm, what shall I do with you tonight, my little kitten?” he smirks, watching how you hang your head down in shame. If it wasn’t for the gag that was wrapped around your mouth, you couldn’t beg for him to let you go and to forgive you. But that wasn’t the case. Jimin likes seeing you like this – so torn and desperate.

“Maybe if you shouldn’t have been such a fucking brat all day—” he stops behind you to grab a bunch of your hair and tugs it back harshly, “—you wouldn’t be on this position.” You let out a loud whimper, your eyes starting to water as you looked up at him. You started pleading with your eyes, a little bit of saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

Jimin moves in front of you and crouches down so the two of you were now eye-level. “Oh,” he cooed, wiping the saliva off of your chin and places the finger inside his mouth. He removes the gag and you let out a loud gasp. “Please please please please, I-I’m sorry,” you begged, “please let me m-make it up to you!”

Jimin tuts, “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast baby,” he shakes his head with a smile, amused. “I’m not going to let you go so easily, not when you look…” he stops a moment to rake your body up and down. He momentarily growls and rolls his eyes back, “Not when you look so fucking submissive for me.”

Taehyung:

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hyun, that I wasn’t able to send you the files yesterday but I assure you that… Oh, yes, yes of course. No, sir, I won’t let you down. Yes, I promise… N-No sir, it won’t happen again.”

You groaned, getting more annoyed as minutes pass by and Taehyung was still having a call with his boss. You watch him leaning over the counter, brushing his hair back from the frustration.

But you were convinced that you are more frustrated than he is.

With a groan, you stood up from the couch, Riverdale long forgotten as you strode towards him. “Taehyung!” you whined, tugging at his shirt, “Please…”

He looks at you with warning eyes, “Yes, sir, exactly nine o’clock…”

“Tae, notice me!” you kept whining, tugging on his arm. “This isn’t fair, you’re working aaaaall daaaaay looonggg!”

“Thank you sir, I’ll call you back—”

“Taehyung come on—”

In a quick motion, your boyfriend ends the call and slams his phone on the counter. He grips your arms and presses your body firmly against his. He leans down to your ear, harshly biting on the shell of your ear, “You fuckin’ brat,” he chuckles, “you can’t even fucking wait for Daddy to finish his call, huh? Is that how much of a needy little bitch you are?”

You wanted to crawl into a little ball by the choice of his words and tone, making you feel small. Taehyung looks at you like he’s about to eat you alive. Taehyung roughly lifts you up and slams you against a nearby wall, his hot breath fanning against your face. “Clingy little girl you are. You want attention?” He wraps a hand around your throat, making you mewl. Taehyung’s cock twitches from the sight of you already falling into submission. “I’ll give you attention, baby.”

Jungkook:

“O-oh, you’re back,” you mutter, eyes locking with a very sweaty Jungkook who just came back from the gym. You gulp a big knot in your throat as you raked his body up and down, seeing him shirtless with his drenched muscle-tee hanging on his neck. Jungkook smirks as he downs a bottle of water.

You involuntarily rub your thighs together, watching how tiny little beads of sweat were dripping down his exposed abs, his hair shaggy and damp as some strands would cover his eyes, how his biceps flexed whenever he drank, the veins in his arms protruding from his extreme workout routine. All of these things made you wet and horny, and he fucking knows it.

Jungkook lifts a brow up teasingly as he prods his tongue on the inside of his cheek. He walks closer to you slowly, and you instinctively walk back. He chuckles, “Why the big eyes, my little one? Hmm?” he reaches an arm out to grab you and force you onto him. Your bodies were now pressing together and you find yourself hard to breathe. He towers over you, looking down at your flushed cheeks. “You like what you see, don’t you?”

He grabs a hold of one of your wrist and places your hand on his chest. You gulp as he starts to drag it down slowly down his body, down his pecs, and onto his hard abs. He chuckles at your reaction, watching you bite your lip as you tried to prevent a moan. With his other hand, he cups your right cheek and prods his thumb inside your mouth, and you instantly suck on his digit with a whimper. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking adorable.” He leans down to your ear, “Makes me wanna fuck you crazy.”

#jungkook smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #hoseok smut #yoongi smut

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

Text

The Devil’s in the details

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: “Satanism for dummies? Interesting choice in books...anything you want to tell me?" And Fluff With spike

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Reader is a killer. They kill a person. For the Devil. Kidnap. Big blood mention. Mention of hiding a body.

A/N: Okay. So it’s not fluffy but I’ve injected some cuddling with Spike into it cos I got carried away with the plot. Hope this is okay anon - I got carried away. I can write you something fluffier (after Halloween) if you want to drop another request... Happy Halloween month !!

It was that time of year again. The yearly struggle where you had to offer a sacrifice to the Dark Lord again to ensure he kept his end of the bargain. Halloween night was circled and underlined in your calendar in thick red pen. Blood red. A coincidence, of course. You sighed, planning out this year’s would be tricky.

You had your boyfriend to think about and people knew you in Sunnydale now, it was hard to keep under the radar. You were practiced in what you needed to do, knowing there was no other way around it. As far as Spike was concerned, you were a sweetheart. A pure, innocent person who wouldn’t so much as look at someone the wrong way.

He was convinced you had never said a swear word and he was equally convinced you would turn to dust if you even attempted it. As far as he was aware, you knew nothing of demons or vampires or anything other than your pleasant life. And this is how you wanted it to stay.

However, Spike had long been trying to find a way to tell you about the supernatural. The Hellmouth. He didn’t want to scare you off, so he had been lying or more avoiding the truth. He wanted to tell you this year though, before Halloween.

You loved him but there were certain things that you would rather he didn’t know about you. For now at least. Especially the fact that you already knew he was a vampire. You smiled at him softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek – a greeting you always gave. He loved it, it was as if he was a husband returning home. He felt cherished by your affection. You never shied away, you wanted him to feel loved. Always.

“Can’t believe it’s been two years and I’ve never so much as had an invitation before, love”

“We did agree Spike – you have your space and I have mine”

“Yeah, but all your crap is in my space” he raised his voice an octave higher to cement his point, “Most men would have left over it, y’know” he added, pointing at you for emphasis.

“Then I’m very lucky to have such an understanding and kind boyfriend” You smiled, squeezing his hand before letting go, “God, your hands are always so cold”

“It’s my condition, love. Anaemia – always, uh, makes me cold” he muttered, not convincing anyone. But you just nodded along, smiling.

Spike had always meant to tell you but had never found the time. Besides, you had your own secrets (he wasn’t stupid he just didn’t suspect the truth) so he didn’t feel so bad about lying. Most of the time.

It was finally Halloween. You knew the drill. Spike would stay in and you would go where you were directed. You woke up to the same mysterious name written on a piece of paper you always did. It was the kind that would combust when you fulfilled your end of the bargain.

You walked up to the bar to order your drink, reading the nametag and smiling. This was getting easier every year. It almost made it difficult to feel the guilt anymore. You spent your evening talking to him, waiting until his break before you managed to subdue him and bring him back to your apartment. Usually, hitting them over the head and dragging them into the boot of your car seemed to work. Your neighbours were usually out and if anyone stopped you, you explained it was an elaborate costume.

You were sat watching a gory horror film with the volume up high as you waiting for your new bartender friend to wake up from his little nap. He was propped up on the couch beside you. You had zip tied his hands and feet but you weren’t so cruel that you would cover his mouth.

He finally started to come around as the humorous film started to get good. You shrugged, you were sure you could rent it for some light-hearted entertainment another day. They never quite got it right anyway. The blood was never the right colour.

He opened his eyes and started to yell. You hushed him and helped him regulate his breathing until he calmed down. When he eventually calmed down you explained the situation calmly, “So, listen, you’re gonna die tonight. But it’s for a really good reason so, at least there’s that” You nod along with yourself, smiling sweetly as his eyes widened in horror, “Okay I have to do a little ritual now that you’re awake just uh, stay still”

You got up, switching off the tv and lighting the red candles that had already been arranged in a circle on your coffee table. An ornate knife was in the middle of the circle. You closed your eyes, chanting some well-practiced verses. You motioned your arms slowly and you felt the warmth in the room dial up. The familiar crackle of flames started to sound around you.

You took the knife from the centre and awkwardly helped the man up, before slicing the blade across his throat. The liquid oozes from his wound and he started to sink to his knees, his blood splattering everywhere.

“Fuck, not on the rug!” You looked horrified, “What is wrong with you?! Over the chalice!” you hissed as if it was the poor man’s fault. You grabbed the chalice and held it under his neck, trying to

The man slowly lost his life as you took the most important part for yourself. His blood. You sighed, rolling your eyes at his crumpled form as his blood soaked into your now ruined rug.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on your door. Shit.

You slip your clothes off and grab the nearest items of fresh clothes so you could go to the door. In your haste, you almost slip on the pooling blood as you make your way to the door.

“What?!” you shouted, scowling at the visitor before you realised who it was, “Oh, Spike! Hi. It’s Halloween… you said you stay in on Halloween in case of the cute kids wanting candy”

“I said that-?” He questioned, before he caught a distinct smell of something he knew well. His stomach rumbled to confirm his suspicions, “What’s going on? I can smell-”

“Smell what?” You ask innocently. He squinted, before shrugging. It must be a different apartment in the block.

“Uh, nothing, can I come in?”

“I’m actually pretty busy… I’m, uh, I’m… baking” You said. Nobody, especially not yourself, was convinced by that excuse. But Spike just smiled slightly and nodded before asking once more, “Look, I need to come in. It’s… important. I gotta tell you somethin’ or my damned head will explode” he gestured at his head as he shook it, “Can I come in?” he pressed once more.

“Uh…” You look at the mess behind you that you’re concealing from his view by the door, “Just… give me time to clean the place up. I’ll be… 10 minutes” You muttered, slamming the door in his face and putting the lock on – just in case.

You clean the best you can, using so much bleach you were worried you would pass out. You sigh. Every year you tell yourself to put plastic sheeting down and every year you forget and end up ruining an item of furniture you were fond of. That was the real sacrifice you had to make, you sighed again as you rolled the poor man up in the rug and pulled him away. You found him a spot to rest in your tub. Hopefully Spike wouldn’t pick today to use the bathroom. The rug and the bleach all thrown in there too.

The blood now up the best it could be, you manage to find a roll of cookie dough to put in the oven. You sweep all of your occult stuff into a box and hid it under your bed and cram the rest into the cupboards.

You had been twenty five minutes, but hoped Spike just presumed that you were house proud.

“I like your place, pet. Spotless” he said perusing the area. He smiled, it smelled of you and… cleaning products. Bleach. Oh, and cookies he smiled. He hoped that you would let him have some later on.

They say love is blind, and Spike was completely head over heels in love with you. So much so, he could only note the smell of cookie dough and you and didn’t think to question the smell of the blood that had been thinly masked by bleach.

He then eyed something on the coffee table that you had set down during the heavy-duty cleaning, “Satanism for dummies? Interesting choice in books...anything you want to tell me?" He joked, a slight smile as he started to flip through it. You grinned back, trying to conceal the fact that you were wiping beads of sweat from your brow when he looked up by scratching your scalp.

“It’s for Halloween – they were handing them out at the… mall”

“Uh, sit down pet” he said, sitting down in the same spot your previous guest had, “I need to… there’s somethin’ I need to say” he started to explain. He had chosen now to reveal who he really was. The fact that he was a vampire. He insisted he loved you and that it wouldn’t change anything between you.

You gasp, perhaps over exaggeratedly but you were actually surprised that he would choose now to tell you. You of course knew about demons and you were unsure if he was telling you this so he could take a bite from the body in your bathroom tub.

“I mean it – I’m… a vampire” He showed you his game face, taking your shock for disbelief. You cup his cheek gently, insisting this would never make a difference. You traced your thumb over his features and he closed his eyes at your touch.

“I will always love you. No matter what” You insisted, leaving a chaste kiss against his lips. He nodded slowly, smiling at your insistence. You caressed him softly, hoping he could feel the sincerity of your actions. You honestly weren’t scared of him. Or repulsed. You felt so deeply for him. You held him close to you as he flipped on the tv. You both settled into the sofa, stroking through his hair softly as he closed his eyes and leaned into you. You kissed his temple and whispered your continued affirmations. That you would never leave him. That you could never stop loving him.

You heard something and cast an eye to the kitchen, which you could see from your living space. The familiar figure you met every Halloween was there. The Devil.

You smiled, winking at the Devil as he took his offering as if he were Santa sneaking in on Christmas night. He smirked, drinking from the cup and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He clapped his hands and left which you caught from your peripheral vision.

You smiled warmly. It was all worth it. You were satisfied as you snuggled into Spike’s now open arms, you would keep the love of an immortal for another year at least.

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heartofsnark · 3 years

Text

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Five): Just To Want It All

Notes: As stated in last chapter notes, i have a decent chunk of chapters done so these are coming out pretty rapid fire. Otherwise, I don’t have much to say other than massive thanks to my friend who reads these over for me and has been cool with me dropping 80+ pages of fic on them in a week. because yeah...I finished another chapter of this.

Word Count: 7885

Chapter Warnings: mentions of alcohol and cursing, if that counts as a warning in cyberpunk 2077.

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

Lizzie’s Bar stands out brilliantly in the city; out of all the gangs, she thinks she likes The Moxes aesthetic the best. Vivid pink and bright teal. Their colors splashed across the overpass, along with a neon pink skull sign with hair and a bow. At the side of the building is a towering neon skull girl sign, full bodied with an animated kicking leg and axe held above her head, the same hot pink color.

She parks and gets out of her car, doing a quick scan of the area, searching for more Militech drones. None that she sees, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. The credchip burns in her pocket, remembering some of the stuff T-Bug has taught her. How to crack an encrypted shard and see what’s on it, how to transfer its contents. V rifles through her bag, remembering she had a blank credchip somewhere. If Militech did anything dirty, V should be able to transfer the eddies onto a clean chip.

V makes a beeline to the front door, cement blockers and walls covered in graffiti. More neon signs, the bars name over the door in glowing turquoise letters. Lizzie Jizzie scrawled across an outside wall; two screens on each side of the double stores, all covered in Nicola ads requesting V ‘taste the love’. Groups of people loiter in the open outside the bar. V’s eyes are drawn to the two bouncers outside the doors.

Two women, one leans against the outside wall as she puff away on a cigarette. Short slicked back hair that starts blue and then fades to green, eyes hidden behind sunglasses and a gold septum piercing in her nose. The other one stands in front of the doors, a yellow spiked bat held over her shoulders. Long hair pulled up into space buns, purple roots and pink ends. Both of her arms are metal; black with pink and teal accents as well as spikes along the forearms. Both women are skimpily dressed, no shame in that. The one wielding the bat has a white top with cleavage going beyond her breasts, showing her almost plastic looking skin and the Moxes tattoo across her chest. The other shorter haired bouncer is wearing neon pink pasties beneath a teal bomber jacket. V’s been here before, has maybe seen them in passing, both really attractive. She’s not sure there’s a Mox member who isn’t.

“Hey there, dollface!~” The bat wielder greets her with a grin, as if she could actually see V’s face.

“Interest you in a preem BD?” The smoker offers.

“What you got?” V asks to be polite, she doesn’t honestly even like brain dances. But the girls are cute, so… no harm in a little small talk.

“What don't we got? Women and men of your dreams, synaptic acting A-listers. No washed-up virtuporn boytoys or blow-up dolls here.”

“Auteur stuff - It'll grip your heart and blow your nerves right outta your body. Pure bit-based ecstasy - that’s why people come here.”

“Sure know how to sell it, don’t you?” V signs, trying not to laugh as the bouncers give her the spiel.

“Not a sales pitch, it's a warning. I'll give you one word - bespoke. Not for everyone's synapses.”

“Think you can handle it?”

“Think I can manage it,” she tells them, knowing damn well she has no intent to get any sort of virtus.

“Mmhm. Couple of things you need to know first,” she affectionately rubs her bat, “Ahem. Severe penalties for any unauthorized recording… “

“No drugs, no groping. Someone catch your eye, you do not grab 'em. You find 'em in the catalog, ask for a BD and get yourself a box.”

“No worries, not even my first time here.”

“Door's open. Have fun, Doll.”

“Welcome to Lizzie’s.”

The double doors open and V walks through a blue beaded curtain. There’s a front room, a stand where a woman with a bright pink mohawk is selling clothes, under another Nicola ad and neon letters saying ‘Fuck To Death’ behind her.

“My what a sweet face you have,” she says, her tone honeyed but its clear she hasn’t looked up from the counter, not even noticing as the masked merc walks past through another beaded curtain and double doors to the main club.

“Here in Night City~”

Music thrums as she steps in; the room is lit with strobing pink and teal lights. Couches with neon glowing lights on the underneath, some people with BD wreaths and others playing on their phones. People dancing to the club music and bar tucked away in the corner. She doubts the client will be right at the start of opening, so V finds an empty stretch of couch, sitting down on black leather with a pink neon light at her feet. V slides the Militech cred chip into her mask, it takes a moment, but she manages to crack it and get a look at the inside.

Ten thousand eddies and malware; it was meant to send all of Maelstrom’s data to another server and then fry the systems. Meaning, if V handed it over Maelstrom would get their systems fried, with her and Jackie dealing with the aftermath. V slides the blank cred chip into another slot in her mask’s edge, transfering the clean money over to it. Fucking around with tech and daemons isn’t her strong suit, but if she recalls Bug telling her that fairly simple malware like this could be reworked pretty easily. She works through the coding with her thoughts, the data and interface all on her mask. If she can get the coding right, she might be able to have it send something other than data back to the Militech servers… Shifting and twisting what she thinks will work… if she’s done it right, instead of sending data back to Militech’s server, it should inject the same malware back into their system. If used, it would spike both Maelstrom and Militech.

She’ll call up T-Bug before they hit Maelstrom, double check she did the steps right. If Maelstrom play nice, they can pay and be done, if not...she can fuck over the gangoons, Militech, and walk away with an extra ten thousand in her pocket. She puts the credchips in her pockets, spiked one in her left and clean one in the right.

Time to have a look around for the client. V making a beeline for the bar, bartenders always have all the info. Lizzie’s Bar in neon over the drink station, a brightly blue lit corner where a man works at making drinks, shelves of booze behind him. She climbs onto a blue vinyl bar stool, feet no longer on the ground and unable to resist swinging them a bit. The bartender comes to her; a man with slicked back dark hair, glowing white cybernetic eyes, and silver embellishments run across his cheeks and jaw. His shirt bright blue with a tropical design and if not for a single button above his pants, it’d be completely open. Beaded necklaces bringing even more attention to his exposed chest and stomach.

“Get you something?”

“Looking for Evelyn Parker,” she speaks the woman’s name, not wanting to waste time fingerspelling it even if the sound feels tight in her throat.

“And you are?”

“V, me and her were supposed to meet here.”

“Well, V, it’s a pleasure. I’m Mateo.”

“Nice to meet you… any idea where she’s hanging around?”

“Club's big. Gonna have to look around. Can't do it for you-”

“It's all right, Mateo,” a feminine voice calls out and V’s eyes are drawn to a woman at the bar, “I was waiting for this one.”

There’s something about her, distinctly Mox and also not. Her hair is a short vivid blue bob with bangs cut straight across her forehead. Heavy makeup, a tight silver sequin dress with a dipping neckline, red thigh high vinyl boots, a black trench coat that pools around her knees with a pink and white feathered collar. She holds two fingers up to the bartender and moves to the bar stool closer. There’s a clang and tink of glass; Mateo getting out a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

“That won’t be necessary,” V signs before he can fill the second glass, “I don’t drink on the job.”

“Aww, what a good girl,” Evelyn coos, a smile pulling at her painted lips, “Evelyn Parker. I knew it was you as soon as you walked in.”

“And you decided to let me wander around instead of introducing yourself?”

“I wanted to get a good look at you first.”

“And?” V watches as Evelyn takes a swig of her tequila.

“Rest assured, if I didn’t like what I see, you’d know,” she takes another drink, “C'mon. Know a place we can talk where ears won't prick up to listen. We'll be in the lounge, Mateo. Anyone asks we're not here.”

Evelyn takes her black clutch purse and leaves the bar, V puts some money down for Mateo; if nothing else to compensate for his time. V hops down from the stool and follows after Evelyn, through a pair of double doors that goes into a hallway tinted red and pink, booth doors lining the way. The blue haired woman opens up a door, standing to the side as V walks in.

The booth is small, circular with a red vinyl couch around it’s curve, a table in the middle projects a hologram of a stripper who twists and dances. V sinks into the cushions, watching Evelyn stride in and light a cigarette as the door closes behind her. Everyone in the city a smoker it seems. As Evelyn puffs on a cigarette, V is somehow just noticing the gold nail like finger caps she wears.

“Dex had a load to say about you. Called you professional, effective. And trustworthy. I hope he wasn't overselling…“

“You don’t give a shit what he says,” V retorts, not missing the tinge of disdain Evelyn’s voice. V doesn’t need anyone to blow wind up her ass.

“You have trouble accepting compliments?”

“Flattery’s beneath you.”

“Maybe Dex is beneath you,” Evelyn moves around the table, grabbing an ashtray from the table, then sitting down next to V, crossing her legs, “Have you known each other long?”

“First time working with him.”

“Hmmm, I've heard there are two kinds of fixers. Those with stable crews on long contracts and short leashes. Loyalty and predictability they value above all else. Then there's the other kind- Dex's kind.”

“Meaning?”

“Headhunters. They lay their trust elsewhere, not in people but in a thing- their intuition. They bet on potential. And if they lose that bet…It's the last mistake they ever make. I’m hoping Dex’s intuition served him well in this case.”

“Let's get to the point, why am I here, what’s this about?”

“Your target - I trust you know what it is.”

“Arasaka biochip.”

“Mmmhmm, their Relic, secure your soul technology. Arasaka's poured billions into personality transfer technology. But me - I just want the data on this one. The chip is tucked away inside Konpeki Plaza, the hotel. You ever been?”

“Fancy corp hotels? Yeah, no, way out of my price range.”

“The decor's to die for. As you'll see for yourself.’

So, V and Jackie have to bust into some fancy hotel to get the chip people are arguing about on tv. Understood, so far. But, theres a lot of risks involved in a heist of this scale. Its one thing to rip off a dropped piece of cargo or a convoy from a corp; but this kind of top notch tech?

“You know where the chip is, exactly?”

“In a suite on the top floor. The room's occupied by Yorinobu Arasaka.”

V swallows the lump in her throat, the son of Saburo Arasaka, heir to the entire fucking corp. She’s once again finding herself wondering why Dex thinks her and Jackie can handle a job of this caliber, the Arasaka’s seem downright un-fucking-touchable to a merc like her.

“He’s in NC?”

“Don't you read the screamsheets?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Well, the media couldn't get enough of Yori coming to Night City, it was all over the headlines. He's heir apparent to the Arasaka empire - Saburo Arasaka's only surviving son.”

“So, he trying to take over while he’s in town?” V asks, trying to understand what exactly is going on.

“Only a handful of people in Night City know what the Arasakas' real plans are.”

“And you included in that?”

A smirk stretches across her face, green eyes devious; “Yorinobu is a puppet. He lost all his cards years ago when he failed to do daddy's bidding. Saburo's had Yori's balls in a vise for years. He might just turn the screw and crush them outright if he learns his son's up to no good again.”

“Someone like him is bound to have an army surrounding him, that hotel is probably a fortress by now.”

“Yorinobu keeps exactly no muscle around. Not one guard. Got rid of them a long time ago.”

“Why?”

“Surely you know what they say about Arasaka intel? Sneeze in Night City and a blossom drops from a cherry tree in Tokyo. Yorinobu was convinced his Arasaka security detail reported directly to his father.”

“If you got a spare ache up your sleeve, I’d love to see it.”

“ Now, this should make your tits perk up,” she says, putting the ashtray aside and leans forward.

“My tits are quite comfortable where they are, I assure you.”

“Cute, but more importantly, Yorinobu recently swiped the chip from an Arasaka laboratory. He's made a deal with NetWatch, aims to sell it to them. Have you spotted my ace yet or do I need to spell things out?”

“Okay, no muscle because he has daddy issues and no security on the device because he stole it from said daddy. Any idea where he’s hiding the thing?”

“Likely in a specialized container, one that mimics an organic neural environment. On the outside, it looks like an ordinary briefcase.”

“Which would be where?”

“You'll see for yourself soon enough,” she stamps out her cigarette and stands up, walking to the door, “Provided we're done gossiping about the Arasakas.”

“You know anything else about him?” V asks, wanting to see if she can mine any more useful information about the heir that could help.

“Quite a bit, actually. He studied finance and biotech in Tokyo. Hm, probably didn't have a choice in the matter, come to think of it. Saburo was grooming him to be his successor. But then Yorinobu vanished to chase his own dreams, cut himself off from the corp for years. Long story short, though the black sheep returned, the bitter taste remained. But that's only one side of him. There's another - an intelligent man who has always walked his own path and so has his own designs on the corp.”

There’s no doubt in V’s mind now that Evelyn knows Yorinobu personally, the way she talks and speaks is clearly colored by experience. Some prodigal son who ran away from his father and then came back with his tail between his legs when he couldn’t cut it alone. An odd lump in V’s throat at the thought; running away from shitty dads, being a black sheep…

“Sounds like any other corpo dick to me,” V signs, not liking the parallels her brain is starting to draw.

“Hm. Ever tried to imagine what life might be like for an emperor's son? You have everything, yet you are no one, nothing. At least as long as you remain in Saburo Arasaka's shadow. I…” she scratches almost sheepishly at her neck, her wannabe femme fatale attitude slipping for just a moment, “...sympathize. It's a vulnerability I understand well.”

V is still finding herself finding uncomfortable similarities between herself and fucking Yorinobu Arasaka. Its stupid, she doesn’t know the man and he has the wealth to destroy her for pretending she does. But, a power hungry leader for a father, leaving home, terrified of being under his thumb. Only difference, well many, but most pressing is she’s managed to make it on her own...so far… at least. Not that she hasn’t had her doubts or worries.

“So, what’s next?” V asks, practically shaking her head to dispel the weirdness swimming in her brain. Black sheep or not; Yorinobu Arasaka has a silver spoon in his mouth. She’s a nomad turned Night City edgerunner; their lives couldn’t be more far removed.

“Now comes the best part,” Evelyn opens the door and turns to leave, “Follow me. Got somethin' for you. Should help you plan. Braindance from Konpeki Plaza.”

V follows Evelyn out into the hallway, “ how’s a braindance going to help?”

“Think BDs are only good for fondling virtual tits, jackin' off to in those boxes?”

“Thought that was the main selling point, yeah,” V teases back as they turn a corner in the hallway, headed towards a door.

“No. They can be a very useful tool. Good for analyzing details human perception, even boosted, doesn't grasp. Exactly what you need,” Evelyn teases as they enters a dressing room, a few Mox at the tables painting their faces with makeup and styling their hair.

“What's on the tape?” Through another door and neon lights fade to harsher, darker lighting.

“Yorinobu's suite. The glorious interior,” the walk down a short metal flight of stairs, “You'll need to locate the Relic yourself. Hope I grabbed enough detail to make that possible.”

The stop at the end of the steps, Evelyn turning to look at V with a hand on her hips. Not that V really had any more doubt about it, but she’s been given more evidence that Evelyn and Yorinobu know each other.

“You recorded it?”

“Mhm. BD rec implant. Why, you object?”

“Not particularly, who you know and what you do with them is none of my business, lets see the braindance.”

“Judy'll help. She's a Mox, too,” down another short flight of stairs, deeper into the basement, “Besides, we go back… years.”

Evelyn stops them again outside a pair of double doors, Lizzie’s is starting to feel like a little maze at this point. But more importantly, Evelyn’s paused again, stumbled over her words and showed something under her facade. V felt something was off, a Mox but somehow not, and she’s starting to think Evelyn is purposely trying to put up a front. That she’s trying, a little too hard, to come across like femme fatale or corpo. Evelyn clears her throat.

“V, this is important. Judy's always been there for me. Always helped out. I trust her. But she's a Mox, not the latest member of your crew. Try not to forget. So you'll be a good girl, tread lightly and keep that tongue on a leash.

“Oh, but it's not my tongue you need to worry about.”

“Hmm, can feel you smirking under that mask, keep it up and I’ll tie those hands down, too,” Evelyn says with a wink as they pass through the double doors into another hallway, then through one more door.

Evelyn leads her through the basement doors, a dark little room with servers, netrunning chairs and screens. In an office chair slouching with one leg on a desk is a woman; late twenties or so with olive skin. One side of her hair is shaved, the other shaggy and down to nearly her shoulder, a deep green color with bright pink ends. The woman is heavily tattooed, bright red roses nestled above her collar bones, a spider web on her right shoulder, a cartoon ghost sitting in a shell, and a large number 13 on her bicep are among the standouts. But V could spend hours describing each artwork.

“Ahem.”

“Hey, there you are…” Judy greets Evelyn, a playful almost flirty tone to her voice.

“This is V. She's here for that BD roll. And V, this is Judy - best braindance editor I know.”

“Enough already, gonna make me barf.” There’s a slight accent to Judy’s voice, not unlike Jackie’s.

“Impressive set up,” V signs, at least, she assumes it’s impressive. Tech is already a bit of a blind spot for her, especially when it comes to brain dances.

“Mhm, Analyzers, sensory sig amps, acoustic and emotive wave monitors, facial expression translators.”

“Ahem, Judy,” Evelyn stops the inked editor before she can tell V more.

“All right, all right… Compiled your BD, Ev.”

“What do you think? Will it do?”

“Still pretty raw… but yeah, oughta do.”

“Mhm. V needs to get deep inside, that's most important.”

“So, let's calibrate, tune it to her,” Judy stands up from the table and moves to the desk closer to the door, sitting down below a neon pink light, “Believe me, I've dealt with worse. Should see the dig-Jig Street porn we gotta contend with sometimes.”

Evelyn has followed behind Judy, standing behind the editor’s chair, “So we drop V inside? Let her look, let her rummage around, right?”

“How 'bout it, V? Raw braindance - ever taken a dip before?” Judy leans forward on the desk, looking at V.

“No, not at all, but I’m a quick learner,” that feels like a lie as soon as she says it, “ and need to know what I’m dealing with. So.”

“Siddown, settle in, and we'll get you goin'.”

V turns around to the chairs, either netrunning or ripperdoc chairs, she’s not sure. But, she climbs into one, settling down into it as Judy comes back out around the desk. Judy is nearby, fiddling with a brain dance wreath.

“Be easier to fit without the mask.”

“Mask has optic tech, linked to my neuroport and biomon, should work just like it does with any set of cybereyes.”

“‘Fraid of ruining the mystery?” Evelyn asks, teasing again.

“Mask is for business, lot harder to track a merc if you got no clue what they look like. You that curious, feel free to try and track me down during my off time.”

“Fine, fine,” Judy affixes the BD wreath around V’s head, lining it up properly on the merc before walking back to the desk, “Gotta create your sensory profile first.”

“Go for it.”

“Now, sit still, look at me. Gonna run the analysis soft should feel a slight tingling…”

V’s breath catches as it prickles across her skin, a crackling and warm sensation crawling across every nerve. From the base of her skull, down her spine, across her arms to her fingers, running down her legs to her toes. A vague pulse, a current of something.

“OK now let's set the optics and other sensory sigs. Look smack into these two screens, pretend it's an eye exam.”

The two wreath panels flash and strobe white light, building in urgency and frequency.

“Gimme two more minutes. One more sec, need to get the pain receptor limiters in… OK. All set. Need to test your profile first. Tossing in a sam-”

“We can just use my recording, there’s no point in wasting time,” Evelyn interrupts Judy.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“I’m fine with just jumping to her BD,” V interjects her opinion, “better to get right to it.”

Judy sighs and rolls her eyes; “Fine, fine, what do I know.”

“Great, I’ll just need to patch Bug in.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Who?” Judy jumps up from her desk, crossing her arms and looks at V like she just asked to summon Satan.

“Runner from my crew, security specialist. She'll tell me what to look for while we analyze. No problem, I assume?”

“Actually, it is a problem! You’re already asking me to cut fucking corners and now you want to bring someone else in?! Not what we agreed, Ev!”

“It’s not a big deal,” V signs, not sure what Judy’s sudden problem is.

“No big deal! You don't quite grasp the risks I took by lettin' you in here! What I'm risking pokin' around with this stuff!”

Judy continues to yell and V rolls her eyes, she’s a BD editor, not part of the actual crew, the client, or the fixer. If Arasaka goes after anyone it sure as shit won’t be Judy, so why is she throwing a fit.

“And you don’t seem to grasp the risk I’d be taking if me and my partner went stumbling into that hotel with no fucking clue as to what we or our runner are up against. I miss one hidden turret and I get pumped full of lead, either my runner links in or I’m gone.”

V makes a point to twist her head and look at Evelyn at the last part; Bug is the most highly trained member of their crew and Dex’s go to runner. Without her involvement and eyes on it, the job won’t be going anywhere.

“Bye then!” Judy yells out, “good riddance and don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

“Judy, please…”

“Ev, she wants to bring a 'runner in. What part of that don't you understand?! How do I know she'll only perch in this footage, observe, not fuck with anything?!”

“Because Bug is literally involved with the heist, has a dog in this fight, and wants it to go well too,” V signs, hoping the AI voice is getting her annoyance across, Judy does level a glare at her over Evelyn’s shoulder.

“Me,” Evelyn steals Judy’s attention, “I'm your guarantee.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Help me, this one last time. I promise everything'll work out, just like we planned.”

And it hits V, between the flirting and the soft drop in Evelyn’s voice here. The reason Judy is so worked up about this; her and Evelyn have something. Friends teetering the line into something else, girlfriends already, or maybe even more than that. V’s not sure. But there’s something distinctly not platonic to the way they interact. Maybe that’s the play on Evelyn’s. Scam Yorinobu Arasaka then run away with her porn editor girlfriend.

“Fine,” Judy shakes her head and sits back down, the anger gone, “call Bug and we’ll dive in.”

That issue taken care of V rings up T-Bug, the netrunner answering after a ring or two.

“What’s up, V?”

“Bug, listen. I got some useful footage from Konpeki Plaza. It's a braindance.”

“Konpeki? Ohhh, thought as much…” Judy looks up at Evelyn.

“Someone there with you?”

“Client and her...friend...is what I’ll settle on; that’s not what matters right now, its going to give us a layout of the room, a chance to find where the chip is, and some idea of security.”

“All right, see if I can walk you through it. Jackin’ into your tech now,” notifications alert across her mask’s interface, “Mh, you've gotta give me access. Opening port 1779… Secure protocol? Good, I'm goin' in. Should be getting my request… …now.”

“Got it. You ready?”

“Millisec. OK, connection confirmed, now some quick temp ICE and… we're clear. Ready to dance.”

“Let’s do this.”

And with that the wreath panels begin to flash and strobe in front of V’s eyes, quicker and quicker until the world goes out in white. And in the next snap of a moment, one reality becomes another. Her body is no longer her own, she’s placed in Evelyn’s mind standing outside an elevator. What feels like her body, moves to adjust a purse strap, gold capped nails.

“All right, V - eyes open. Gotta find out where Yorinobu is keepin’ the Relic. Everything is controlled by thought and intention; you can step into editor mode, access everything her cyberware picked up a signal of, can scan, rewind, fast forward. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

The doors open, exposing the hotel room, and a horror show of a man walking towards her. V can feel the spike in fear, whether from Evelyn in the moment or V’s own instinctual reaction; she isn’t sure. He’s around eight feet tall, complete metal and cyberware from his feet to his upper lip; more machine than human. Wire, hydraulics, steel; all branded with Arasaka. The flesh section of his head is sickly ashen protrusive veins, glowing red where eyes should be. As he draws closer there’s a whirr of machinery, hydraulics pistoning to give him movement. How is he alive? How is he functional?

“You look like a cut of fuckable meat. Are you?” He asks as he walks past, voice edged with something inhuman.

Evelyn reigns her fear back in, the past version of her walking deeper into the room, where a dark haired man sits at a table in front of a large screen where another blonde haired man speaks back to him.

“I said no,” the dark haired man speaks out, his voice colored by a Japanese accent and V knows it’s Yorinobu. Evelyn continues to walk closer, her heels clicking against the floor.

“They'll have my head for this…”

“Then you shall perish for a good cause.”

“But I-”

“Make yourself comfortable. I need a minute to finish,” Yorinobu tells Evelyn, sparing just a glance over his shoulder.

“Listen in on that conversation, V! Could be something important.”

She wants to watch through first, do an initial watch to look for things and then go more in depth. Two watches at least should mean she’s covered everything. Yorinobu switches the conversation to his holophone, pacing around the room. Evelyn meanwhile puts her purse down on the chair, then walks behind him, trying to keep him in range

“My father is a tired, visionless old greybeard who thinks nothing will change and he'll live forever in his tiny, frozen bubble! You will listen to this - Saburo is an addled despot utterly removed from reality, stuck in some fossilized vision of a world that no longer exists! Of a world that may never have existed! We have not seen eye to eye for the last twenty years. I am quite sure we won't now.”

Yorinobu continues to talk as Evelyn pours herself a glass full of champagne and takes a drink, the tech allowing V to taste the sweet bubbles as if they were on her own tongue. Glass in hand she takes a slow look around the room and walks back to the center of it, sitting at the table, the plush of the cushion letting her sink into it.

“Noted,” Yorinobu says into the phone as he starts to walk back to Evelyn, there’s something in his eyes, “enough.”

He hands up, putting the phone down on the table. Evelyn looks up at him and V through her eyes gets her first good look at the Arasaka heir. Dark hair with the sides shaved down close to the scalp, glasses perched on his nose. His cyberware is surprisingly minimal for a man of his wealth, two streaks of silver going up his neck to his jawline.

“Sorry, to make you wait,” he touches Evelyn’s shoulder and the woman rises, “business can be stupid.”

They’re close and V can feel his hands on her, Evelyn’s, hips. Evelyn’s hand on his shoulder.

“Mmh, it wasn't long,” Evelyn hums and it feels wholy unnatural to feel like she’s speaking with someone else's voice, “Not even long enough for me to grow bored.”

His hands start to creep and Evelyn goes to pull away, movements playful, when Yorinobu pulls her back in. Then he starts to dip his mouth.

“Fuck no!” V yells out as she pushes the thought to enter editor mode, separating her senses from Evelyn’s before she has to feel Yorinobu’s lips on Evelyn’s neck. She looks down and sees herself, though slightly digital, her bright blue nail polish and not gold jewelry. The scene around her has paused and a digital filter over them.

“Something wrong?” T-Bug asks with a slight laugh.

“Nearly had corpo droolon me,” V signs, happy to find the tech allows her translator to work in editor mode, “was going do a watch through, then a second go in editor mode, figured two look throughs would be best...then”

“Then you nearly had to lock lips with Yorinobu Arasaka.”

“Gag, rewinding back to scan the call fully.” With a thought she watches as Evelyn and Yorinobu move in reverse, getting back to win the heir was starting the call. Once she gets where she needs to be she scans his phone and restarts it from editor mode, thankful for the sensory disconnect. She hears the man on the other end of Yorinobu’s call speak.

“Please speak with your father. He's taken a particular interest in this project, he can certainly explain the risks invol--”

“My father is a tired, visionless old greybeard who thinks nothing will change and he'll live forever in his tiny, frozen bubble!”

“I should not even be listening to such things.”

“You will listen to this - Saburo is an addled despot utterly removed from reality, stuck in some fossilized vision of a world that no longer exists! Of a world that may never have existed! We have not seen eye to eye for the last twenty years. I am quite sure we won't now.”

“Read the documentation carefully. The Relic requires specific storage conditions. You MUST provide them.”

“Noted,” Yorinobu hangs up again and V pauses the BD.

“Heard that? Relic docs gotta be around here somewhere. Look for them,” Bug confirms.

“Once we find where the chip is stored we’ll do a clean sweep of the security, okay Bug.”

“Smart thinking.”

V watches half-heartedly as Yorinobu and Evelyn interact; her range of vision and senses limited to Evelyn. She fast forwards through the two canoodling, only mildly catching Evelyn mentioning something about ‘candy’ though V assumes it’s of the nose variety. Evelyn separates away from Yorinobu for a moment and walks to a control panel, offering to lend music to the scene.

But V’s interest is piqued when she catches Evelyn rifling through Yorinobu’s messages, a few spam and scam emails. Then she pulls up an email from Clouds, a dollhouse in the city. Evelyn deletes it, V rewinds back and pauses. The email thanks Yorinobu for his patronage; hmm, heir has a taste for doll prostitutes. Something, Evelyn doesn’t want that email to be there… Its all beginning to make more sense and V’s not sure she likes it.

The merc fast forwards further through the BD, moving through to Evelyn playing awful music and going to meet Yorinobu in his bed. Where he sits with a tablet, the second the screen is clear. She pauses and scans it, bingo.

“Manual details a special temp controlled container. Relic needs to be kept real cool,” T-Bug explains through the technobabble.

“Chip’s got to be in a freezer.”

“Yep. Could damage it otherwise. OK, switch on thermal layer detection in the editor. Should be easier to spot where Yorinobu's keeping the chip.”

V switches with a thought, the world turning into temperature signatures as she searches for unnatural cold places and spots. An air conditioner pumps out cold air, but that would be a stupid place to put billion dollar tech. One malfunction and you lost it all. She rewinds back to get more of a view, a ice bucket for champagne, a fridge?

“That’s just a regular fancy fridge, not cold enough,” Bug tells her when she spends t0o long contemplating it.

V rewinds further and an amass of blue ice cold air from behind a pillar catches her eye, It seems to come up through the floor, unlike the AC, ice bucket, or fridge she has no clear idea where this one is coming from. A secret container in the floor? Seems like a much craftier place to hide expensive stolen tech, V scans it.

“Right, grabbed the heat sig. Matches the spec in the docs,” T-Bug tells her.

“Chip has to be here, we got it.”

“Mmhmm, time to scan security.”

V switches back to the regular mode, looking for what she needs to scan. The camera system first.

“Shit, cameras packed with newtech motion sensors, heat sig activators. IFF.”

“Can you kill it?”

“With access to their subnet, but we need the Flathead bot for that.”

They continue on, with Bug commenting on each security measure they scan. Alarm with fresh firmware, Automated turrets connected to the hotels server. Yorinobu’s pistol, loaded with the safety on. V rewinds and fast forward, searching anything else that might be an issue but comes up empty handed.

“Seems like we got everything. Looks like all their security systems are linked to the hotel subnet. We need the Flathead. No other way to shut down these systems,” T-Bug sumises.

“No way around it ourselves?”

“Nope. Least I'm fresh out of ideas. Think we got everything we need.”

“Okay, but hang on the line with me after we get out of the BD, need you to look over something for me, if you don’t mind.”

“No problem.”

V exists out of the brain dance, a flash of white and the world returns. Judy and Evelyn looking at her from across a desk, T-Bug still in the call panel of her mask. Her eyes hurt, her throat feels dry, and she can feel a migraine pushing at her temples. She fucking hates brain dances.

“Get everything you need?” Judy asks, a dark raised eyebrow.

“From the BD, yeah, got to clear something with Bug while I got her on the horn,” V gets the chip she fucked with out of her pocket and slides it into the proxy reader of her mask, “got a chip I fucked around with; decrypted and tried to rewrite the virus on it, so it will spike the people who gave it to me. But I want to make sure, I didn’t fuck up.”

“Need me to grade your work, V?”

“Kind of…”

“Oh, shit, V. You fucking over Militech?” T-Bug exclaims, a little pride in her voice as she reads over the code, thankfully her voice is only audible to V through her hearing aids.

“Mmhmm.”

“And you don’t want to sign and have your translator read it, because you don’t want to risk the client knowing you’re fucking over Militech while prepping to fuck over Arasaka.”

“Mmhmm, will it work?”

“It will fry the servers of any tech it’s plugged in proper and fry the servers it’s linked to, a Militech van from the looks of it. Won’t be a dent in their bottom line, but will surely piss off some reps. That what you meant for it to do?”

“That was the plan.”

“Preem work then, but I do want to make some...edits,” T-Bug edits the chips code in front of V’s eyes, “there we go.”

“Something wrong with it?” Nerves creep up V’s throat, if she fucked up, she’d rather learn her lesson now.

“Nah, I added a bit of a personal touch for you, nothing wrong with a little style added to your hacking.”

“Appreciate the help.”

“You know I won’t always be here to check your work.”

“I know, I know, but it doesn't mean I won’t take advantage while I can. Thanks again, talk soon.”

“Later, V.” With that V hangs up the call and slots the spiked credchip back into its respective pocket. Judgement, suspicion, and resentment are radiating off of Judy.

“I'll wipe the cache and your data. You were never here.”

Judy stands up from the desk and V tries to decipher a few of the tattoos she sees, noticing more sea themed ones, like a dolphin and sharks. V flinches behind her mask as Judy removes the BD wreath, glad to be free of the contraption, but she could have taken it off herself.

“Thanks…” V signs, despite this, just trying to be polite despite their spat.

“Keep it,” Judy hands her the wreath, V getting a good look at the octopus tattooed on the woman’s hand, “I'll put it on Ev's tab. Portable device for handling BDs. I already uploaded your calibration settings. Not as sophisticated as what we got here, but should do the trick.”

“And it keeps you outta harm's way. Clever.”

“Speaking of harms way, know what I see looking at you,” Judy pins her hands to her hips and gives V that look again, “walking, talking corpses.”

“We needed this recording, just… relax, will you?”

“Relax! If Arasaka finds out you have it, you're dead. I'm dead! If you fuck this up and Arasaka comes knocking on my door!”

“Judy, relax, that’s… not gonna happen,” Evelyn is the one trying to soothe the editors temper again.

“Evelyn, please… no shortcuts. You go that route, city'll always win. So be careful.”

“'Course I will be. Besides, we'll talk in a bit,” Evelyn looks to V, “lets walk.”

V stashes the new BD wreath into her bag and climbs from the chair, following Evelyn out of Judy’s basement space. It’s not like V is heartless or doesn’t know anxiety; but of everyone involved, Judy has the least skin in the game. V can’t spend her time coddling someone who doesn’t have a whole hell of a lot to worry about compared to her, Jackie, or Bug.

“Well? What do you think?” Evelyn asks and V can see that hint of nerves coming back.

“You’re not worried about this coming back on you, if they start looking through everyone he’s been dealing with?”

“They'll have a long list, then. Packed full of big names. Much bigger than mine. You tell me who they check first. Corpo hotshots and cutthroats? Or a little bedroom plaything like me?”

“Well, then... “ V tries to find her words, this all seems, too good, “intel on the heir, on the place, know roughly where the chip is, and how we should get to it… Seems like a perfect plan and job.”

“Mm. Thanks. Now the punch line, please.”

“Seems too good to be true, there’s got to be a catch…”

“Cold feet? Are you looking to get out of it?”

“I want to know you’re in control here; that there’s no secrets, no catches, no surprises that turns this heist from a cakewalk into a bloodbath.”

“V. I have zero reasons to haze you. We’re in this together. Really. Trust me that I got this.”

“Okay, if you say so, what next?”

“V….” there’s nothing good in the way Evelyn pauses, words stuck to her tongue for a moment, “Do this job for me. I mean me alone. No splitting the payout with anyone else. No middlemen. No Dex.”

Of course, of fucking course, there had to be something. Evelyn’s trying to play cutthroat corpo, fucking over a fixer because she has dollar signs in her eyes. But, she’s too damn naïve to the game to know that no merc with the lead in their gun would pull that shit. Greedy mercs who screw over their fixers end up broke on the street at best and swimming with cement shoes at worst. And a high profile one like Dex has the means to destroy her.

“Fucking knew there was a catch, you want to fuck over our fixer.”

“Dex is a middleman. And a useless one at this point.”

“You don't fuck with fixers. That's the one rule every merc in this city knows - and actually follows!”

“But if we're smart…”

“There is no smart to this, a mistake like that will cost me my reputation and without that, a merc is fucking nothing in this city. Are you serious about this?”

“Better ask yourself that question. Do you want to spend the rest of your days blasting scavs? Or become a legend overnight? Your choice.”

“He would put me in the ground, if I pulled some gonk shit like that.”

“I could give you fifty percent, V, . Eddies enough to do whatever the hell you like, without needing Dex for anything. With cred like that, you wouldn’t want for anything, you could retire.”

“It’s not about the money.”

“I thought you were a merc. I thought it was always about the money.”

“No, its not actually. He trusts me, he’s taking a leap with me. And even if he weren’t, I’m not the only person I got to worry about. Bug vouched for me too and Jackie is my partner. I fuck over my fixer, it hurts them too. I’m not going to send them down the river for a bigger cut of the pie.”

“Fine. I never asked. But V?”

“Yeah.”

“I just hope you're as good as you are naive.”

“Pff, you think I’m the naive one, here. Cute.

“If you need me, call. I'll send you my number. Now go. I need a few words with Judy.”

“Later, then.”

And with that V heads back up the stairs, tension draws tight across her shoulders. This whole damn thing with Evelyn throwing her off. The BD and everything seems clear cut, if they get the Flathead, the job might even be easy. But, wanting to fuck over their fixer. Evelyn is not the corpo or femme fatale or whatever she seems to think she is. A doll, V’s sure of that. Evelyn must have deleted the email from Clouds because its’s connected to her and the Mox offer protection to sex workers; must be where she and Yorinobu met. Clouds even has connections to Arasaka through the Tyger Claws. And she managed to become a powerful rich man’s plaything, so now she thinks she’s smart enough to fuck over not only him but Dex too.

She’s a messy client with good intel. V doesn’t want Evelyn to get hurt. The older woman is in over her head and doesn’t know how the merc world works. She doesn’t deserve to get hurt for that, the last thing V wants is for Dex to lose his cool and hurt the woman. But, V also owes it to him to let him know Evelyn put that deal on the table. If she doesn’t, what’s to say Evelyn won’t pull this on another fixer? Or Dex gets another job aligned with her and the next merc she offers this to isn’t so loyal? She has to tell him.

V fumbles with her holo as she walks back through the club, doing some quick research on Konpeki Plaza. Finding their policy on guns. Given the stealth nature of this mission, she can assume the only way they’re getting in is to find a way to get in like regular patrons. Which means they’d be scanned for guns as soon as they get through the door. If something goes south, she doesn’t want her and Jackie left unarmed with a hoard of Arasaka soldiers on their ass.

But they can’t confiscate cyberware.

Might be time to cash in her savings for something. Her holo buzzes in her hand as Dex calls; her stomach drops. Unsure for a moment what to say to him, if she should go ahead and tell him what Evelyn tried to pull. Would he lose his temper? Drop the entire damn heist? Would he hurt her for it? It weighs on her shoulders as she pushes through a blue beaded curtain, considering her options with a finger hovering over the phone.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand #silverv #(slowburn eventual)#evelyn parker #judy alvarez #aidan becker #aidan v becker #female v

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