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linorachas · 3 years

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for the weekend. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff & smut ⁍ word count — 4.8k words ⁍ details — established relationship, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing, oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, d/s undertones, mention of the word “cockslut”, chan worship, you’re both really in love ⁍ a/n — hello! i’m a new writing blog for skz. :D this is my first work here, so i’d love to hear your thoughts. i accept criticism, but please be nice i am trying my best ㅠㅠ part 2 is here! thank you to everyone who let me know that they wanted a part 2! ♥️ ⁍ summary — After a long week of hard work, you finally spend a weekend with Chan.

Friday - 2:03 am

Your footsteps are light and quick as you rush down the hall, duffel bag bumping against your back as it bounces from your movements.

You were sweaty, sticky, and overall about to pass out, but there was a wide grin on your face once you stopped in front of a very familiar studio door.

You had just finished helping create a choreography for an idol group, a whole day of repeating dance moves and drawing positions on papers.

Your out was supposed to be at 7, but you had done overtime with the intent to clear your schedule tomorrow. You would have to do overtime on Monday again, but that didn’t matter right now.

All that matters was the boy behind this door who was working just as hard as you are.

Inside, Chan was hunched over his desk, headphones in, hand cramping as he furiously jots down some notes.

He wasn’t required to stay in, no, he could’ve left hours ago and be asleep right now. But going home without you always bothered him, so he had decided to stay until his girlfriend was finished.

He knew you felt the same, though. You once told him that you would just be tossing and turning in bed if you went home without him. When the tables are turned and he was the one doing the overtime, you would doze on a chair beside him while he worked, or spend some time at the studio yourself.

Chan had checked the time just a few minutes ago, and he knew that you were already on your way here. Unfortunately, he had made the mistake of starting on a new project while waiting, so it would bother him if he left this unfinished while he rested at home.

So now he was cramming, rushing to finish at least a draft.

You, on the other side of the door, didn’t bother with knocking, and just pushed the door open slowly.

Your eyes immediately find your boyfriend’s busy form; Chan’s hair was covered by a reversed snapback, basketball short clad legs tucked Indian style on top of his chair.

You feel a tug on your heartstrings as you watch Chan work hard for the sake of a free day tomorrow, a free day for you two.

You smile at the way Chan taps the pen on the desk to an unfamiliar beat or taps it to the snapback on his head, before going back to writing again.

Chan also does these annoyed puffs of breath every few seconds, something you found to be very endearing ever since the first day you met.

When Chan groans in frustration, you finally walk inside and shut the door behind you, dropping your duffel bag on the floor.

Chan freezes and stops writing when he feels arms wrapping around his neck, but the feeling is immediately gone when his brain registers that it’s his baby.

You press small close mouthed kisses on Chan’s cheek before you nuzzle your head against the crook between Chan’s neck and shoulder, and a smile blooms on Chan’s face.

“Sorry,” Chan mutters, yanking his earphones down when you stop kissing him and pull away. You don’t answer. Instead, you remove Chan’s snapback from his head and card your fingers through his hair gently.

Chan sighs contentedly, eyes slipping shut as he leans his head back on the chair, following the flow of your fingers. He opens his eyes again when you lean down and press a kiss to his lips,

his nose,

and then his forehead.

You grin at him, and despite being in an unflattering upside down angle, Chan thinks you look absolutely gorgeous like this.

Barefaced, happy, and in love.

“It’s okay, Channie,” you finally say, after seconds of just gazing at each other lovingly passes. “I know you’re doing it for our vacation, anyway.”

Chan lets out a small laugh as you fix the cap back on his head. “It’s just two days, baby.”

“Two days of sleeping, eating, and maybe some sex? I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a heavenly vacation to me.” You babble unashamedly, hands sliding down Chan’s torso to massage his pecs— making him squirm and laugh— before you slide them up again to massage his shoulder joints.

Chan sighs as he lets the feeling of your fingers relieving the aches wash over him, but then he catches sight of the mess of papers on his desk, and a frustrated frown replaces his smile.

“Will you wait for me?” Chan asks hopefully. Though deep inside, he kind of already knew the answer.

Still, his heart starts to beat too fast and his stomach fills with too many butterflies when you wrap your arms around his neck again, pressing your cheek against Chan’s own as you mutter, “of course. You know I always will.”

And then you seal the promise with a kiss. Chan pretends he doesn’t chase after your lips when you pull away.

He goes back to work with you still wrapped around him, and after a few moments, you start to shift. Chan’s free hand quickly darts up to your arms that are slowly loosening, so you stay still, alarmed.

“Stay.” Chan mumbles distractedly, eyes darting hurriedly across the papers. It’s selfish, yes, making you stand behind him for God knows how long, but Chan had always worked better when you were this close.

You would have seen the embarrassed blush that dotted across Chan’s cheeks if you weren’t so flustered yourself, hiding your face in Chan’s shoulder blades again when you fail to suppress a wide grin.

So you busy yourself with basking in Chan’s warmth instead, squeezing Chan tight every once in a while just to see him squirm and attempt to glare at you.

Suddenly, all your sore muscles from dancing were gone, and you were content to stand behind your boyfriend for as long as he wanted you to.

When Chan is finally finished and you’ve shut off all the lights, locked the door and gathered all your belongings— Chan throws an arm around your shoulder while you wrap your own arm around your boyfriend’s waist.

You both giggle, talk in stage whispers, and stumble down the corridor like drunken fools despite being completely sober. You hold onto each other like it was your last time to do so, as if you were reassuring yourselves that the other is still there.

For extra measure, Chan presses his lips against your temple, whispering a sweet “I love you, Y/N. So so, so much.” that only the two of you could hear as you go out into the cold night, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

The streetlights look like stars in his eyes, and you ask yourself again how lucky you are to have fallen in love with Bang Chan.

Saturday - 2:54 pm

3:16 am, you and Chan are pressed against each other as you settle into a deep sleep, blankets tucked around your bodies to shield yourselves from the cold.

4:23 am, you accidentally kick the blanket off the bed, leaving the both of you exposed to the cold temperature of the room. You shiver in your sleep.

Chan wakes up long enough to grumble about the blanket and do a half assed search around the room, just to end up pulling you closer to his chest and wrap both his arms around you. It doesn’t do much for Chan himself, but you stop shivering then, so Chan falls back asleep with a smile on his face.

8:44 am, Chan’s phone rings. The ringtone almost rivals Chan’s snores, and the combination of the two sounds force you to wake up, annoyed. Chan was in the middle of the bed, arms and legs splayed out, while you were on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest.

You only have the energy to lift your head up, glare at the sun peeking from behind the curtain and at Chan’s phone, before you drop your head back on Chan’s chest heavily, startling the said boy awake.

Chan stops mid snore and the sound is so funny that you feel a smile tug on your lips, but then his phone rings again.

“Yah, Chan-ah,” you whine, wiggling upwards to bury your face in Chan’s neck. “Make it stop.”

“Sorry babe,” Chan groans, trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes as he cups the back of your head. His free hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand, pressing it to his ear after 3 sad attempts of hitting the answer button.

Your hearing is muffled because of your position and Chan’s hand covering your head, and you only manage to hear a “no, no, we can’t, we’re sleeping in. Sorry Bin,” before you drown out the conversation entirely, the vibrations of Chan’s voice lulling you back to sleep.

Finally, at 2:54 pm, you wake up again, but this time you’re really awake.

Your stomach is grumbling and you’re so hungry it‘s starting to hurt. You try to move, but find yourself unable to because of the limbs restricting from doing so.

This time, one of Chan’s legs is on top of you, covering your lower half entirely. Chan’s head is lying on the pillow, and there’s drool on his chin and it’s gross, so you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe it quickly. Thankfully he didn’t drool on your hair.

Chan’s holding your other arm to his own chest as if it was a teddy bear, his body curled into your side snugly. When you lean back slightly to take a proper look at him, Chan’s nose twitches like a rabbit and the grip on your arm tightens. You snort.

“Chan. Channie,” you mutter before you bury your face in Chan’s hair, squeezing the sleeping boy in an attempt to wake him up gently.

Chan lets out a grunt, but doesn’t do much to prove he’s really awake. You sigh.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

It takes you more than a few attempts, but you finally release your arm from Chan’s grip. However, just when you were about to start working on his leg, Chan suddenly slips his own arm under you, turning you over so you end up on top of him again. He does it so easily that it startles you, cheeks burning red at the sudden display of strength.

“It’s our day off, give me one more hour.” Chan grumbles. He was still half asleep so most of his sentence was incoherent, but if anyone was an expert in sleepy Chan language, it was you.

You glance at the wall clock on the other side of the room, grimacing once you realize why you were starving. “Shit. We really wasted the whole day away by sleeping, dude. It’s 3 pm.”

“Stop calling me dude.” He huffs. “And it’s a vacation, Y/N. Let me sleep. Let us sleep.”

You pout when you get your own words thrown back at you, and then it’s as if Chan has a sixth sense for your pouting, because he’s suddenly lifting his head up to press a kiss to your chin, eyes still closed.

You’re guessing he was aiming for your lips, but he was fighting a hard battle between properly kissing you and falling back asleep. It was endearing.

“Love you,” Chan mutters groggily, and was about to drop his head back on the pillow when you stop him with a proper kiss to the lips. It’s a very awkward angle, but you both blush and giggle as if it’s your first kiss.

“Mmmmhm,” Chan pulls away after a few seconds of close mouthed kisses, eyes now blinking open as he frowns at you. “Don’t kiss me. Morning breath.”

You giggle, leaning up on your elbows to take a proper look at him, heart squeezing at the way his lips were pouted. His bed head looked like a bird’s nest and his eyes were swollen. You couldn’t resist pressing another peck to his lips at the sight.

“But I just did.” You grin, cupping Chan’s cheek as you press small, rapid kisses on his face. “Besides, it’s afternoon.”

Chan rolls his eyes, pretending as if he wasn’t chasing your lips with every kiss. And you giggle again, because you were giddy that Chan is finally awake and you were in love with him, and those two don’t really connect, but whatever.

Barely a minute passes before Chan’s eyes start to slip shut again, and it’s only then that you realize you’ve been running your hand through your boyfriend’s hair unconsciously.

“The day’s over, anyway,” Chan places a hand at the back of your head, gently leading you to his neck. He presses a kiss to your forehead then yawns, fingernails scratching your scalp gently to lure you into going back to sleep. “Let’s just stay in bed.”

And you, you were so tempted to say yes, especially with how warm and comfortable you were in the love of your life’s arms, but then your stomach starts to wail like a dying animal, and both you and Chan wince.

“Chan-“

“I heard it.”

You laugh, a loud, refreshing sound that makes Chan’s heart pump wildly, and you feel his lips form into a smile when he presses a kiss to your forehead again, longer this time.

Chan then wraps both of his arms around your waist, turning you both over to the side. Your arms come up to lock around Chan’s neck, and your eyes meet when you look up.

Chan’s eyes were twinkling, and you’re not so sure if it’s because of the light behind you.

“Hello,” Chan says casually, and you make a sound between huffing and laughing.

“Will you at least let me go so I can make breakfast?”

“It’s already afternoon,” Chan half-heartedly reasons, his arms tightening around you as he leans down to press another kiss to your nose.

“Breakfast time is any time. Whoever thinks otherwise should be jailed.”

Chan ignores you, busy pressing a few more pecks to your cheeks, nudging your nose with his own.

You whine. “Come on, baby. You need to eat. I know you’re hungry too.”

And Chan is, but he doesn’t want to leave the bed yet. He’s not pouting, he swears he isn’t, but he knows he’s making a face because you were smiling all amusedly at him again, like you were surprised he was acting this way.

Who could blame him, really? He had a whole day off, a beautiful girl in his arms, and unlimited kisses to give and receive. Why would he leave this warm bubble without a fight?

Chan tightens his grip and rolls again, and you were getting out of breath from laughing and trying to push him away. Your boyfriend pins you down on the bed, holding your hands above your head and intertwining your fingers together.

“Hello,” Chan says again, grinning down at your flushed face.

The sudden displays of strength kept catching you off guard, and your face was reddening for a multitude of reasons.

“Hi,” you reply, albeit breathlessly, and you tilt your head up as a way of asking for a kiss.

Chan leans down slowly, too slowly for your liking, so you groan loudly. Chan laughs but finally presses your lips together, subconsciously loosening his grip on your hands. You free them from his grasp to cup his cheeks.

You can feel Chan smile against your own lips, and you only go as far as nibbling on the other’s bottom lip before you decide something and push him back.

“Y/N,” Chan whines, chasing after you again, but you stop him with a finger to his chest and a quick peck to the lips. He stops, clearly confused.

You push him back further, making him fall onto his side. He seems to catch on when you start straddling him, knees on other sides of his hips.

“Oh.” Chan gapes, eyes blinking up at you stupidly. You laugh.

“Yeah, oh.”

You drag the hem of his shirt up, deliberately scratching your nails against the hard muscles of his abs. Chan groans at that, hips bucking up involuntarily.

As he busies himself with taking his shirt off properly, you start to press open mouthed kisses down his chest, tongue laving against the prominent lines of his stomach. You start sucking near the navel, leaving a big, deep purple hickey that contrasts heavily against his pale white skin.

Chan hadn’t said anything since you started, but he was leaning back on his elbows, dark eyes following your every move. You felt the way his eyes followed the curve of your body as you adjusted to kneeling so you could move further down, making you shiver. It was almost like he was touching you with how intense his stare was. But his hands stayed at his sides, calm and waiting to strike.

You knew that would change soon.

There was already a noticeable bulge by the time you got down to his crotch, making you bite back a smile. You know Chan could feel your amusement because he uses his feet to tickle you at your side, making you laugh.

“Get on with it, pretty.” His tone was playful, but his hooded eyes were saying otherwise.

You listened obediently though, because at the end of the day, all you really wanted was to be good for Chan. All you wanted was to pleasure him, to make him feel good, to let him know that you wanted him to be happy.

And if a mindblowing orgasm from a morning wood blowjob was the way to success… well.

You don’t waste any time in taking off his boxers, desperate to see the cock you loved. It wasn’t a secret that you were a bit of a cockslut, but it was technically Chan’s fault. When he slid his cock in you the first time and made you cum so hard you almost passed out, you were ruined for anybody else ever.

You loved him inside you, loved him pounding so deep into you you felt the head of his cock in your cervix, and also loved him when he took it slow and let you feel every inch— every vein that lined along his fat cock. You loved when you were at his mercy.

But you also loved when you had that same cock in your mouth, filling you all the way to your throat. You were guessing you had a bit of an oral fixation, since sometimes you craved the weight of it at random times of the day. You just wanted his cock in your mouth, and you knew Chan was more than happy to oblige.

Chan’s sizeable cock slapped up against his stomach when you finally took away its confines, precum smearing against his skin. Chan’s fingers tighten against the sheets when you lean forward and kitten-licked that same precum off, his cock bumping against your cheek.

“Baby,” he exhaled, brows furrowing. “Are you playing games right now?”

“No,” you answer, but as soon as the word left your mouth, you flattened your tongue and licked a thick stripe up at the side of his cock, making Chan groan and throw his head back.

You swirl your tongue around the angry purple tip of his cock, letting his precum coat your tongue. But you don’t swallow it, not yet. You let the liquids fall back onto his cock, using it as lubricant for your hand that comes up to stroke him.

Chan grunted, bucking up into the tight space of your hand as his head lolled forward. He watches you with lidded eyes, and you tilt your head so he could feel the hot exhale of your breath on his cock. Predictably, you felt it twitch.

A hand comes to cup the back of your head, and you look up through your lashes to see Chan licking his lips and swallowing.

“Come on,” he urges, hand sliding down to tilt your head up. He slides his thumb into your mouth and your lips close around it immediately, sucking. Chan shudders. “Be good for me.”

And you obey.

As soon as Chan’s thumb slipped out of your mouth, you replaced it with his cock, tongue flattening as you took half of him in your mouth. Your lips stretched obscenely, Chan’s girth and length stretching your mouth to its limits.

But instead of deterring you, it only made you moan. You already felt so full even if you hadn’t taken his entire cock in your mouth yet, almost gagging when you felt the tip nudge the back of your throat. Your eyes flick up, watching as Chan’s jaw tightened, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

You bob your head up and down slowly, understanding that Chan was letting you take the lead. His hand stayed cupped at the back off your head, a reassuring constant as you did your best to breathe through your nose.

The slick sounds your mouth was making echoed along with Chan’s muttered curses in your quiet room, the only other sound being the traffic outside.

“Shit. Shit,” Chan exhaled, chest heaving. He was always much more sensitive in the morning. “Your mouth, baby. That fucking mouth.”

And much more noisier.

“So good for me.” Chan whispers, voice rough and heated. He brushes the back of his hand against your hollowed cheeks, then cards his fingers through your hair so he could see your face properly. “Look at you, my cock in your mouth first thing in the morning. What a sight.”

You moan at his words, and the vibrations that come from your throat make him twitch in your mouth. Chan refrains from bucking his hips, but he slips up sometimes when gets too lost in the pleasure. There’s an apology on his lips every time, but you shut him up quickly with a harsh suck to his throbbing cock.

You know he’s close when the twitching gets more frequent and his thighs start tensing around your head, his hand going from tugging on your hair instead of just resting there. Chan gets quieter as well, his nasty praises trailing off to grunts and broken moans.

Your jaw was aching, but the quiet gasps of your name spurs you on more than you’d like to admit. Because as much as you loved to be under Chan’s mercy, something about him losing his mind over your mouth and saying your name like it was his last prayer did things to you. The slick heat between your legs reminded you of it.

His pleasure was your pleasure.

You’re forcibly pulled off when Chan tugs your head back, and you’re just about to complain when Chan suddenly sits up and grabs his cock with his free hand, keeping the tip of it in your mouth.

“Look at me.” He hisses, and you obey immediately.

You look up at him through your lashes, suckling at the head of his cock as much as he let you. He jerks himself off quickly, using your spit as lube and groaning at the lewd sight of your lips wrapped around him and the feeling of your tongue insistently brushing against the underside of his cock.

“I’m gonna cum, baby, shit-“ he grunts through gritted teeth, and you squirm as you watch his abs and arms flex with each movement.

Chan had his head thrown back now, sweat dripping down his throat and his pale skin reddening as he got closer and closer to his release.

“I’m gonna cum in this pretty mouth. This perfect mouth, only mine to use, hm? Just mine and mine alone, fuck- god, fuck!“

You tug Chan’s hand away and swallow his cock down your mouth again as soon as the first spurt of his cum hits your tongue, making him flinch.

He’s clearly torn between tugging your head away due to the oversensitivity, or pushing his cock farther down your mouth. His hand flexes in your hair, unsure of what to do.

You decide for him.

Your throat works against him, struggling to swallow his cum and keep his cock in your mouth at the same time. You were determined to milk his whole orgasm out of him, and you weren’t going to stop until he was dry and shaking. The moans Chan lets out this time are almost close to whimpers as he falls back against the mattress, hips bucking uselessly.

“Y/N,” he whines, gasping for breath, and you rub your hands up and down his hips to ground him. You clean him up slowly, aware that the oversensitivity must be bordering on pain now.

Chan groans, arms coming up to hide his reddened face. “Baby, enough, please. Come here, come up, I want a kiss. Please.”

You bite back a smile as you pull off his cock, sucking one last hickey to his navel and reveling in his stuttered moan. You crawl up the bed slowly, kissing the exposed part of Chan’s chin; the only area that wasn’t covered by his arms.

“Good?” You ask, sitting on his stomach now.

“Good?” He squawks, disbelief written all over his face when he pulls his arms away. His face was still red, as well as the upper parts of his chest. “Good?! You- god, I can’t believe you. Come here, you little minx.”

He growls, pulling you into a bruising kiss. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks again, moaning as he bit on your lips and sucked on your tongue like a starving man. Chan’s hands grope your breasts through your shirt, thumbing your slowly hardening nipples and making you squirm.

When he pulls away from the kiss and trails his lips down your neck, his hands move lower as well. He hooked his thumbs in your shorts, one second from pulling them down and having his way with you. But-

Speaking of starving.

“Channie,” you whine, stopping his hands. He freezes immediately, pulling back to look at you. Concern was written all over his face, and you would have cooed if you didn’t have more pressing matters at hand.

You frowned. “I’m really hungry.”

Chan gapes at you, stunned. He blinks rapidly, eyes going from your frowning face to his hands by your shorts. “I- are you- do you not want me to return the favor? You just gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

You snort, knowing he was exaggerating, but Chan looked dead serious. You roll your eyes then, locking your lips in a heated kiss again for a few seconds to satiate your needy boyfriend. You keep your forehead pressed together when you pull back slightly to look in his dazed eyes, still filled with want.

You drag the tip of your index finger across his lip, smirking. “I’ll make you a deal. If you put some food in my stomach, I promise I’ll let you fuck me six ways to sunday.” You grind down, making him hiss. “It’s been too long since you made me cry, no?”

Chan’s eyes darkened. You licked your lips.

But then, the next thing you know, the world was upside down, and you were being carried outside your bedroom over your boyfriend’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Bang Chan!” You squeak, heart pounding wildly in your chest. “Put me down, you crazy idiot! What the hell are you doing!”

“Putting some food in your stomach.” Chan replied simply, like that was the answer to all your questions. “No take backs.”

You pause for a second, then find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Chan was still naked. You smack his ass repeatedly, making him yelp on the way to the kitchen.

“You’re insane.” You laugh as he finally sets you down on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his neck when he squeezes himself in between your thighs.

“You love me.” He giggles, looking too smug for your own liking. But then his face softens, and you blink in surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your lips,

then your nose,

then your forehead,

then your lips again.

“And I love you . More than anything.”

It’s the softest kiss you’ve shared since you woke up, and that was saying something. You look up at Chan, dazed at the sudden switch of mood. He was looking at you tenderly, eyes twinkling as he smiled, dimples popping out.

Your heart pounded in your chest again, beating so hard you felt like it was going to come out of you. You love him. You were so in love with Bang Chan that it hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life in his arms, just like this. Always.

“Now,” Chan grinned wide, stepping back as he clapped his hands twice. He was looking very determined, arms crossed and bulging over his chest as he looked around the kitchen.

Your eyes meet, and your breath catches in your throat when he smirks.

“Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

1K notes · View notes

latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑷𝒕.2 (𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑲𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒆𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

Part One

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐄𝐦𝐨/𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞) × 𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢! 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖.𝟓+𝐊

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞/𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞/𝐝*𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞��𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 × 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧), 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐦! 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦!/𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐮𝐛! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @speronyx @pirate-hongjoong @multidreams-and-desires @cloudyyeonnie

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Scrunching her eyes from the sliver of light protruding from the curtain that was left slightly open, Y/N let out a tired groan before pulling some of the navy blue blanket over her face. Feeling his lover shift in her sleep, Hongjoong slung his inked arm and placed it around her waist. Bringing his face forward, he placed a chaste kiss on her exposed shoulder.

"Morning beautiful." He greeted her with his usual manner of complimenting her.

"No........no morning..." She uttered, her voice sounding a little raspy and hoarse.

The dark ash grey male chuckled softly at her unwillingness to get up yet even though it was well past 11 a.m. His fingers traced around the dip of her hip as he hummed out a soft tune.

"Sweetheart, as much as I'd love to stay in bed and hold you for the rest of my life, you have class today and I'm needed at the shop later on." He reminded her.

Although she realized he was right, she still refused to budge and just stayed immobile. Letting out a sigh, he sat up and began to carefully turn her over to him, to which she let out a muffled whine. When she was fully turned on her back, her eyes fluttered open, her vision being blessed by the beauty of her dark and eccentric boyfriend who was donning his signature smirk as his eyes peered down at her, always seeming to stare right into her soul.

"Well? Are you ready to get up or am I going to have to get you ready myself?" He inquired, one eyebrow slightly lifted.

The warmth and comfort of the bed made her hesitant to want to leave. Reaching out, Y/N's hand slowly began tracing the outline of Hongjoong's collarbone.

"Why can't we just stay here?.....just for today? Stay and cuddle together..."

Trailing her hand down, her fingers grazed slightly over one of the piercings on his chest.

"Or .....we could do a few other things."

He let out a soft moan when she rolled his nipple between her thumb and index finger, eyes looking up at him suggestively while she bit down on her lower lip. Her other hand pushed the blanket, which was covering her, a little lower to further entice him. He could not look away at the sight of her wearing one of his many oversized band tees, his mind knowing fully well she wasn't wearing anything else underneath it. The end of it had risen up slightly that if she shifted around more, her entire bottom half would be exposed to him. When her hand threatened to go lower, he quickly caught it with his own.

"Naughty naughty kitten, trying to seduce me into fucking her into the sheets.."

Bending over, he captured her lips in a lazy and semi-messy kiss, his wet muscle poking out to lick across her upper lip.

"As if I didn't do enough of that last night."

Letting out a giggle, she let him wrap her legs around his waist before picking her up and walking towards the adjoining bathroom so they could get washed up and ready for the upcoming events in their day.

Outside in the kitchen, a handsome boy with dark brown hair and a sculpture like face pushed up the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His eyes loomed over the formulas and equations that were plastered all over the page. More than once he looked over at the notebook beside him, comparing and analyzing similarities and differences. His pencil was often tapping against the counter, following along to the beat of the song that was blasting from his phone. Occasionally, he'd find himself humming, or even singing along softly like he was currently doing at the moment.

"Fell in love with a girl at the rock show. She said what? And I told her that I didn't know..."

He had been sitting on that spot well over 3 hours, the blueberry bagel he had heated up for breakfast only had a single bite and remained untouched on a porcelain plate in front of his study materials. He let out a whispered curse under his breath as he couldn't seem to focus, his hand reaching up to rub at the side of his neck in frustration. Letting out a puff of air, he leaned back on the chair and stared at the ceiling, thinking about many things.

Hearing the doorknob of his roommate's turn, he was not fazed at all at seeing the [insert hair color] female come out.

"Oh. Morning Yeosang." She waved at him as she made her way into the kitchen, already rummaging through the cabinets like she usually did when she stayed over.

"Morning? It's practically noon." He pointed to the clock hanging by the wall.

Y/N simply ignored him and simply poured herself a bowl of cereal. Sitting down in front of the poker faced male, she made sure not to disturb him as he concentrated on the papers in front of him. After Hongjoong and her became official, she was ultimately forced to be introduced and sometimes even cohabite to a point with him since she now spent more time at their dorm than at her own place. Not that she minded. Yeosang was a very intriguing character. He was extremely quiet at first, but soon opened up to her and became more chatty with her, even more with her than his own roommate and friend. During one of their many conversations she found out he was a natural science major, focusing specifically on chemistry, which resulted more often than not in horrible puns involving the periodic table. He had a weird yet cute obsession with chicken, often wore either beanies or snapbacks backwards and had very similar music tastes like Hongjoong, which was the main reason why they ended up becoming friends, their music. However, Yeosang wasn't as deep, dark nor tattooed like her boyfriend.

Yeosang was a skater and the biggest clue was the skateboard he left on the side of the front door, the bottom of it decked out with various stickers he placed there. God forbid if anyone that wasn't him touched his baby, all hell would break loose, as Hongjoong himself learned one time. The man himself came out of his own room after he finished placing the finishing touches on his makeup. Sliding an arm around his girlfriend, he took in the state of his friend.

"Still taking 6 hours on a chemical reaction Yeosang?" Hongjoong snorted.

"Still taking longer than your girlfriend to put on eyeliner Hongjoong?" Yeosang retaliated, lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Another thing she loved about Yeosang: he was a straight up savage who could roast people harder than an oven.

Grumbling softly, Hongjoong placed a tiny peck on Y/N's lips.

"I have to go now babygirl. Meet me at the shop after class and we'll go home together." He told her.

"Which one? Hers or ours?" Yeosang snickered.

Making his way around the counter, Hongjoong held out his hand and flicked Yeosang on the head, causing him to utter an 'ow' at his ministration.

"And please try to get some air Yeo. You've been cooped up in these 4 walls too long."

After giving him a suggestion, Hongjoong was out the door and out of sight towards his part time job.

"Dark lord has no room to talk, before you came along, he'd only go out for school, work and booze." Yeosang shook his head.

Y/N giggled and got up to make her way out as well.

"He has a point. Besides, you've been stressed out recently. Why not hop on Emmy and take her out for a little spin?"

Y/N found it odd at first that Yeosang actually named his skateboard, but she figured she shouldn't have been so surprised. Hongjoong did a similar thing with his black Mustang. Closing, his textbook, Yeosang turned off the music playing on his phone and grabbed the earbuds sitting next to them.

"You know what? You're right. It doesn't look like it'll rain either."

Picking up her own bag, she followed Yeosang out the door, each of them headed towards a different direction.

"Try not to run anyone over this time." She called out to him.

"I don't run into people, they purposefully get in my way."

After waving goodbye to her, he placed the earbuds in, music already blasting full volume as he skated down the hallway, not caring about if it was allowed or not.

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The little twinkle of the bell chimed, letting Hongjoong know that someone had just come in. Although it was well past closing time, he knew very well who it was that just strolled through those doors. He didn't even look up from his task of wiping down and sanitizing his workplace.

"Hey handsome."

Unwillingly, he smiled softly at his girlfriend's words.

"Hey gorgeous." Finally looking up, he winked at her and caused her cheeks to heat up with a light shade of pink.

Clearing her throat, she asked if he was almost done, to which he affirmed that he was indeed.

"Just let me pack up my things and then we'll go to your place and cuddle." He began putting the tattoo needles, ink and tubes into a black case, making sure it was all neatly arranged and locked tightly.

"My place? But I bought chicken. I thought we could give some to Yeosang." She held up the plastic bag that contained their purchased dinner.

Slumping an arm around her waist, Hongjoong poked his bottom lip out.

"Sometimes I think you're more nice to Yeosang than me."

She shook her head at him and his cute and subtle jealous antics.

"Kim Hongjoong, are you jealous of Yeosang?" She teased him.

Pulling her against him, he whined softly as they made their way out of the tattoo parlor. He sighed as he locked up and punched in the security code.

"I'm not jealous of him....."

Walking over to his car, he made sure to open the door first for her as he usually did every time they went out.

"I'm just making sure you're still interested in me."

He held her hand the entire ride back to her place, even against her protests and lecture about safe driving. When she pulled her hand away so he could place it on the steering wheel, it instead rested on top of her thigh, pinching it softly at times, which resulted in Y/N's own hand smacking it for going too hard at times. Hongjoong just laughed and continued his obnoxious teasing on her, loving to annoy her and get her frustrated with him. When they pulled up to her place, she didn't even allow him to open the door for her. Instead, she sauntered off inside, closing the door behind her and locking it before he could get in.

"Haha very funny babe, now please open the door."

A minute passed but still she didn't respond. Hongjoong began pressing on the doorbell repeatedly. When that still didn't work, he called her, but he was sent directly to her voice mail.

"Aish! Seriously this girl..."

Hongjoong began pounding on the door.

"Yah L/N Y/N! Open this door right now missy! You want me to get angry with you?!"

On the other side of the door, Y/N cupped a hand over her mouth, muffling her laughter at his reaction.

"If you don't open the door, I'll- I'll..........I'll serenade you so loudly your neighbors will complain."

Taking a deep breath, he was about to start singing, but Y/N instead opened the door.

"Dear God, I get punishing me, but what did my neighbors do to get tortured so mercilessly by your banshee cries?"

She finally let him in after that scene.

"I'll have you know I'm actually a pretty decent singer." He stated in a matter of factly.

"Oh I know Hongjoong." She assured him as she began serving him a plate of food.

"You do?" He was puzzled as he tried to recall a time where he sang in front of her.

Not able to suppress a smile, Y/N confessed:

"One night after you came home late and thought I was asleep, I heard you when you began singing Rebel Love Song while playing with my hair."

As she sat down the plate in front of him and looked at him, his already fair complexion seemed to grow more pale and he suddenly looked embarrassed. He awkwardly toyed with his food.

"So......you heard the entire thing...?" He opted for focusing on eating as much as he could before he completely lost his appetite.

Y/N tried to keep a straight face as she sipped on the juice from her cup, ultimately failing when she spat it back inside, almost choking on the citrus liquid. Her boyfriend now threw the unwanted chicken wing back in his plate.

"Well I guess I'm not eating tonight. Good bye. I'm going to go crawl under the bed and die of embarrassment."

She looked at Hongjoong's slumped back as he headed into her bedroom. Wanting to let him change and wash up, knowing he'd take a while removing all that makeup that for some reason never caused a breakout on his flawless skin, she began clearing out the table and washing the dishes. Making sure to wrap the leftovers so he could take to his friend, she made her way into her room where Hongjoong was already on the bed, scrolling through his phone with a cringed look on his face.

"What is it?" She asked him as she began changing into her pj's.

"My idiot roommate. Wasn't watching where he was going and ended up stumbling on a dent on the sidewalk."

Hongjoong held up his phone to let her see a picture of Yeosang's dislocated elbow. She winced back in pain as she saw it.

"Ewww! Is he ok? Does he want us to take him to the hospital?"

Hongjoong shook his head.

"Yeosang would never EVER go to the hospital because of a skating accident. Besides, he's had so many that he somehow knows how to fix them."

Pulling up another picture, he let her see a selca of Yeosang holding up a peace sign as the caption read: "Hehet. I popped it back into place."

Y/N actually thought that was funny. Yeosang was a very funny character even when he didn't try to be. Snuggling herself up to her boyfriend, she let him move her leg so it could be wrapped around him, his thumb playing with the hem of her pink shorts. His hand then trailed up, untying the drawstring before pulling them just a little bit down to expose her powerpuff girls underwear.

"Hey!" Y/N swatted his hand away when he began bursting out at her choice of 'lingerie.'

"I'm sorry! It's just so cute." He tried explaining to her.

She wasn't amused however and turned away from him, her back facing him.

"Awww come on baby. I meant it when I said it was cute. You know I didn't mean it to be mean."

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around her waist, his lips peppering kisses on her cheek and temple.

"Yeah but I bet you'd prefer it if instead it was black lace and the skin around it had ink or jewelry."

Although she meant to only mumble that under her breath, Hongjoong heard her plain and clear.

"Ok what kind of talk is that? Why are you saying such things Y/N?"

She was going to crawl under the blanket but Hongjoong gave her no time to as he rolled her onto her back so he could look at her, not about to let her go until she explained the meaning of her words.

"I mean.......Hongjoong you're the dark, mysterious emo guy every girl thirst for at campus." She began.

"Guilty as charged." He joked.

Y/N chuckled slightly at his cute joke, but then went back to her somber expression.

"But...?" He urged her to continue.

"And I'm the complete opposite of you. You're black, I'm pink. You're leather, I'm fleece......you got your fucking dick pierced while I the only thing I have pierced are my ears."

"Ok, I see your points, but I'm still lost as to where you're trying to get with all this?" He tilted his head.

"My point is this. Wouldn't you rather be with someone who matches you better? Colorful colors on her hair? Piercings cascading down her earlobes and tattoos in places only you'll be able to see?" Her eyes looked away from him, afraid to see something she wouldn't like.

Hongjoong finally understood her insecurity. He wasn't going to lie, more than once he often felt the same way towards her. Why would a beautiful, dedicated, classy, pure and sophisticated woman settle for someone like him? But he never imagined that she'd be thinking the exact same thing. His fingers brushed away the strands of hair that were covering part of her face.

"Y/N....... if I wanted someone like that, I could have hooked up with them a long time ago. But I didn't want them. I wanted you then and I only want you now and I'll still want you later on in life."

She melted at his reassuring words, eyes and lips forming into a puppy face that always made him weak.

"You mean it?"

Bending down, he placed a loving and gentle kiss on her.

"I mean it. So don't worry about getting your body pierced or tattooed." He grinned at her.

Y/N bit down on her lip as she was about to tell him something.

"Well actually........I might need your input on something..."

He motioned for her to speak up.

"I actually wanted to get a tattoo and I was wondering......if you could do it..."

His mouth dropped at her words, brain trying to process if he just heard her right.

"Are you serious or...?"

She nodded.

"I'm serious. I want to get a tattoo and I want you to do it."

Looking at his still dumbfounded expression, it was now her turn to make fun of him.

"I mean, if you don't want to, that's ok. I'll just ask San to do it. It could probably be a better idea and I could surprise you instead."

"I mean, where do you even want to get the tattoo?"

Y/N smirked as she lifted her shirt up and exposed her breasts. She trailed a line right below them and signaled exactly where she wanted to get it. Hongjoong's face flushed as he began to imagine his already sexy girlfriend with an under breast tattoo decorating her chest, causing him to feel needy in seconds.

"Fuck baby.....are you trying to kill me?" He gulped.

"So is that a yes? Can you ask San to do it and I'll show you the finished result?"

Hongjoong chuckled as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

"Do you really think I'm going to let anyone else see my girlfriend's chest when only I'm allowed to? Hell no. I'll gauge their eyes out first."

Y/N let out a half squeak half moan when Hongjoong bit down on her neck, tongue gliding down her exposed skin as his hands began ridding her of her clothes one by one.

"Let me remind you that you're mine and will always be mine."

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"Hongjoong!"

Throwing a rubber ball that struck straight into his target's head, Yeosang held up a fist in the air.

"Still got my aim." He declared, flexing his arm muscle.

Hongjoong however was not amused.

"You know...there's more than one way to dislocate an elbow than tripping on a sidewalk." He threatened him.

Letting out a small 'pfft', Yeosang took out his phone.

"Do you still have that video presentation we did for Professor Yoo's class."

"Ummm.......hold on, yeah I think so?" Hongjoong began scrolling through his phone.

"Ok well if you do, send it to me, I need to go over a few things for our upcoming midterms."

Hongjoong gave him a questioning gaze.

"Yeosang...midterms aren't until 3 months from now."

Yeosang raised an eyebrow.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Not wanting to argue with the hot headed boy, Hongjoong just went back to searching through his files and let him know he'd send it once he found it. Yeosang meanwhile went back to his room, flopping down on his bed and resumed his previous activity of watching a horror movie on his phone. Tiny snorts would occasionally come out of his mouth when a jump scare would happen or sometimes even a twisted smile would form on his face when a particularly brutal or gory scene would be displayed. Even if he was scary and dark himself, Hongjoong often judged and questioned how Yeosang could possibly sit there watching people get violently slaughtered or severed without getting fazed or even batting an eyelash. Hongjoong actually suspected Yeosang actually enjoyed it and more than once contemplated whether Yeosang or not could be a potential serial killer.......

Then he remembered the boy also had Ponytail as his ringtone to quote unquote 'Wake up in a happy and cheerful mood.'

A notification popped up. Opening his messages, he saw it was from Hongjoong himself.

'Took me a while, but here you go. Knock yourself out I guess.'

In typical Yeosang fashion, he didn't even thanked him, he simply left him on read as he usually did. Pressing play, he flipped his phone sideways so he could make it go into full screen mode. He was disoriented when he heard music playing on the black screen, knowing fully well he didn't use such kinky music like that while editing the video, in fact he didn't use any music at all.

"What the fuck?"

He squinted his eyes when a scantily clad girl came into view. A male hand, belonging to whom he presumed to be recording the video, was seen running his thumb across her luscious and red tinted lips. The hand then reached down and picked up a black leash which was attached to the black choker on her neck. It had a red heart pendant on the middle, some engraving that he couldn't make it on the center of it.

"You know what to do kitten. Put that pretty mouth of yours to work." He heard the male tell the girl in front of him.

"The fuck kind of kinky porn did he decide to send me?"

Yeosang's cringed expression soon turned to shock when the male tugged on the leash roughly, pulling the girl forward and making her full face finally show on the camera.

"Oh...my..."

He gulped as he watched none other than Y/N began to pull down, whom he assumed was Hongjoong's briefs, down his thighs. When his erect cock hit his stomach, Yeosang's eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes.

"Holy shit Joong!"

His hand covered his agaped mouth as his eyes stared intently at his roommate's most intimate part, covered in piercings that he definitely did not know about. He knew about the nipple piercings, both of them having walked around shirtless at one point in front of each other. But seeing his Hyung's dick full of jewelry started making him get hard and watching Y/N wrap her lips around it, slurping sounds coming out her mouth as she began taking him in until he hit the back of her throat was not helping his case. His hand that was resting on his thigh unconsciously moved towards the growing tent forming under his sweatpants, lightly running across his length.

He heard Hongjoong emit a low hiss when she gave him a particular hard suck.

"Fuck! You're such a hungry and desperate cockslut aren't you? How about I treat you like the whore you are and fuck your face?"

Yeosang sucked in a breath as he watched Hongjoong yanked the leash on Y/N to keep her in place as his hips began to thrust forward. Yeosang couldn't help but palm himself harder, biting down his lower lip in an effort to keep his moans down. Watching Y/N release choked moans and drool pool down her chin from how hard Hongjoong was face fucking her was honestly one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. He nearly came in his pants with the lightest of touch when he witnessed Hongjoong pull out and spurt out his cum all over her face, covering from her forehead and dripping down her cheeks and chin, her tongue darting out to swallow some of the remnants left on her lips.

Yeosang gulped as he watched the screen go black, only shuffling noises being heard for a minute or two. He debated whether he should continue watching, already feeling guilty as hell that he just watched his Hyung's girlfriend suck him off and get a facial from him. But once the screen lit up again, he nearly fell off his bed as he stared at the scene:

Y/N had her arms tied to the bedpost, crimson red ropes secured tightly on her wrists, an intricate knot placed in the center of it. Her mouth was covered by a ball gag, lace bra pulled down to expose her breasts and her panties were probably discarded somewhere on the floor. He watched Y/N anxiously shiver when Hongjoong slid his cock across her slippery folds, no doubt enjoying the feeling of his Jacob's ladder piercing grazing against her lips and aching clit. He noticed how she tried to roll her hips to feel him more, but Hongjoong's hand slammed down on her stomach and pressed her down onto the bed.

"Don't get greedy now kitten. You'll take what I give you and you'll be grateful got it?"

Hearing his dominant and commanding voice full of authority, Yeosang slipped his hand inside his pants and gripped himself at the base of his cock, unashamed by his actions and wanting to hear more of Hongjoong's domineering tone.

"Y-yes..."

Not satisfied with her answer, Hongjoong slapped her across her face before gripping her chin. It sent a terrified shiver down Yeosang's back seeing Hongjoong treat Y/N with such utter disrespect and yet......she seemed to enjoy it?

"Yes what?" Hongjoong spat out.

Y/N whimpered as she answered him.

"Yes Master."

Yeosang groaned and stopped his hand movements, not wanting to come anytime soon. Through hooded eyes, he watched the rest of the pornographic video play, from when Hongjoong pushed himself inside Y/N to when he had her trembling underneath him as he poured himself inside of her, completely and effectively fucking her dumb as she stared off somewhere completely lost. With a soft grunt and hisses, Yeosang spilled himself all over his stomach, breathing heavily after having jerked himself off to his roommate's private sex tape. Putting his phone down, he reached for the box of tissues on his dresser and began cleaning himself up....

Completely unaware of the eyes that had been watching him intently.

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

Ever since that day that Hongjoong had witnessed Yeosang touching himself to his and Y/N's secret tape, it began giving him a few ideas, ideas that weren't particularly holy at all. It most definitely was an accident and when he realized what he had sent to his roommate he was already off his bed and going over to apologize. He was expecting his somber friend to glare at him or even give him a disgusted look, but he was shocked to find him fully stroking his length, eyes glued to his phone while his mouth released some of the cutest and softest pants he'd ever heard. The sounds kept replaying in his head, especially late at night, often falling asleep to them as if they were some kind of sinful lullaby that he wanted turned into a full blown orchestral song.

And that's how his pretty girlfriend ended up dragged into his unholy desires, dressed to entice in a red two piece lingerie set that he knew would drive Yeosang insane.

"Hongjoong, do you think this is a good idea?" Her hands fidgeted with the bow attached to the middle of her panties.

When they heard the front door signal Yeosang's arrival, Hongjoong looked over at her with a smirk.

"Only one way to find out."

Adjusting the bow on her hair, Y/N watched her boyfriend walk out the room, no doubt going along with his plan of telling Yeosang he had a surprise for him. The boy was probably imagining something like stickers for his skateboard, fried chicken or some cool tshirt Hongjoong would customize for him, he really loved those gifts. Instead, he walked in to find his Hyung's girlfriend sitting on his bed, looking innocent and sexy at the same time. His eyes bulged out, cheeks reddened at the apples and he was whipping his head towards the evilly grinning male next to him, demanding an explanation.

"What? Don't you like my little surprise Sangie? I thought you'd be a little more....excited..."

Yeosang shivered lightly when Hongjoong ran his hand across his pants, gripping softly at the arousal that was forming in them.

"I don't- I don't understand....." Yeosang shyly looked to the ground, hands covering his growing arousal in embarrassment.

"Yeosang I know all about you masturbating to our sex tape."

Y/N kinda felt bad when Yeosang's expression looked guilty and ashamed of himself for even watching it in the first place. But she wasn't going to lie that it turned her on to find out the pure looking skaterboi could have his freaky side and she was more than curious to find out just how wild he could be. She heard, or more like, discerned Yeosang was apologizing to Hongjoong in a very hushed tone. Hongjoong assured him it was perfectly fine and that there was no need to be afraid, that it was after all a present to him. Seeing Yeosang conflict himself with whether this was right or not, Y/N knew it was time for her to speak up.

"Yeosangie...."

He immediately responded to her sultry call for him, ready to obey anything she said. When she patted the spot on the bed next to her, his feet quickly moved to sit next to her, although he kept his eyes on the floor, not daring to look her right in the eye and much less at her body. His cute behavior stirred something inside Y/N, a more dominant side of her wanting to come out. She began stroking his hair, which made him visible stiffen and inhale sharply.

"You can look at me Yeosang. It's ok."

Brushing the hair away from his forehead, her hand went down to his cheek, caressing it as she turned his face to look at her. He visible gulped when she asked him:

"Don't you think I look pretty?"

Unable to resist himself, he finally scanned her body, eyes tracing every curve and lingering a little too much on her exposed cleavage.

"You look so fucking pretty." He had to admit.

Hongjoong watched with a proud smirk as Yeosang let Y/N kiss him softly and slowly melt into a more heated kiss. Although he was possessive by nature, something about sharing his most prized possession with his extremely handsome best friend got him riled up and he couldn't wait until they both fucked her dumb. He was just waiting for Yeosang to flip the tables on her, cause he knew that although his girlfriend was taking the lead at the moment, practically devouring the boy inside her mouth and straddling his lap, he also knew Yeosang was more dominant by nature. He just liked to play off an innocent and naive façade only to suddenly flip the switch and have whoever he's with underneath him and obeying his orders. And that's exactly what happened.

As Y/N was getting lost into their heated and sloppy makeout session, she let out a startled grunt when Yeosang's hand gripped the back of her hair, tugging it harshly as his nose brushed across her exposed neck.

"Just cause you're on top right now, doesn't mean I'm letting you take charge. Got it little kitten?" He smirked when he heard her moan out at her favorite pet name.

"Yes Yeosangie-"

She had no time to finish her sentence because Yeosang gripped her chin tightly, effectively silencing her.

"For tonight, forget about Yeosangie. You will only address me as Sir."

With no warning, he flipped her onto the bed, pinning her arms up and diving straight for her neck, making sure to suck and bite hard enough to leave purple blotches splattered across her soft almost velvet like skin. When Y/N looked back at her boyfriend, he was already almost fully undressed, leaving only his boxers on, hand palming himself as he stared at them with lustful eyes. Cupping her breasts, Yeosang squeezed them into his hands before pulling them out of the confining garment. Having always been a boobs type of guy, he of course began to hungrily suck on them, his tongue flicking against her sensitive nipples. Y/N arched her back, her mind wondering where the fuck did the shy skater went to? Was the boy who could barely say 3 words on their first meeting also the same man that was turning her into putty the lower he began kissing down her body?

When Yeosang got in between her thighs, he could not believe how drenched she already was.

"Fuck. We've barely done anything Hyung." Yeosang pressed a finger to her clothed heat.

Finally deciding it was time to join, Hongjoong moved Y/N so that her head was resting on the edge of the bed, prompting Yeosang to move as well.

"I know. She's such a dirty little slut. Gets turned on by even the smallest of things." He teased her as his hand lightly smacked her cheek.

"Don't call her that Hyung.....she's just a little princess. Can't help it if she's just a little spoiled." Yeosang cooed as he began pulling her soaked panties off.

Y/N gasped when Yeosang blew a little air onto her dripping core, eagerly anticipating him to do something. It was Hongjoong though that made her break her gaze from him when he slapped an all too familiar pierced member on her forehead.

"Hey, just cause Yeosang is willing to go soft on you and dote on you, doesn't mean you earned it from me."

Hongjoong tilted her head lower so it'd be easier for her to take him in.

"You're going to work that filthy mouth of yours and suck me dry you dirty kitten. I don't want you getting distracted by Yeosang eating you out or else I won't let you cum tonight." He warned her before shoving his dick inside her warm mouth in one go.

Yeosang only chuckled as he leaned in closer to her heat.

"I'll make sure to make it difficult for her."

Y/N moaned around Hongjoong's dick when she felt Yeosang's wet muscle side across her slick folds. Although he did not own a tongue in like her boyfriend did, he really was making it difficult for her to focus on sucking off Hongjoong. The way he swirled his tongue around her clit, or when he'd give it a particularly harsh suck that shot waves up at her. She could feel him smiling cockily too, he knew the power he held at that moment. Using his fingers to pry her lips open, he dwelved his tongue inside her dripping hole, causing her to briefly mumble out Yeosang's name while her mouth was still stuffed with Hongjoong's cock. She let out a choked yelp when the latter forced his cock deep inside her throat, the ampallang piercing touching her uvula, as his hand came down to strike her cheek.

"You're seriously calling out another man's name after I told you to focus on me you little bitch? Are you too dumb to even do a simple order?"

Gripping the sides of her jaw, he began to fuck her face, causing Y/N to choke around his length but eventually hollowing out her cheeks to welcome his intrusion. Although Yeosang looked up just to witness the sick and twisted scene, he did not deter in his task of eating Y/N out. He was determined to have her cum all over his face. By the way her hips began rolling onto his face and her thighs were closing around his head, he knew she was definitely close. Noticing her body movements as well, Hongjoong firmly looked at Yeosang.

"Don't you dare let her cum Yeosang."

Yeosang snickered amusedly, finding it funny how Hongjoong tried to order him around. Instead, the brat in him decided to completely ignore him, burying his face deeper in her, his mouth working hard to get her to reach that release she desperately wanted to achieve. When she began squirming under him, his hand held her hips down, tongue lapping up all the sweet juices she was pouring out. Yeosang was disappointed that her pleasured moans were currently being muffled by Hongjoong's cock, the latter tensing up when he felt the vibrations all around him.

"Fucking hell!"

Pulling out of her mouth with a loud popping sound, he finished himself off as he came all over her chin and neck, face red and eyes glaring down at Yeosang, who shot him a smug smile as he wiped the remainder of her juices off his chin and nose and licked his hand when he was done.

"You're such a fucking brat." Hongjoong growled at him.

"And what are you going to do? Spank me daddy?" He scoffed at the older male.

Setting Y/N upright, Hongjoong picked her up and set her down on the chair by the computer.

"You're not allowed to move, speak or touch yourself. You'll sit there like a good little bitch and watch what happens when you test me or disobey."

Y/N quickly nodded at Hongjoong's words, watching with fear and anticipation as turned his attention back to a still defiant Yeosang. After stripping off his clothes as Hongjoong told him to, Yeosang obligingly layed on his stomach, wiggling his ass when his Hyung came up behind him. Hongjoong had a suspiciously calm smile as his hand traced the curve of his Donsaeng's back before gently kneading at the flesh on his cheeks. When Y/N saw him reach under the bed for the black velvet bag he had hid just in case, she knew exactly what he was up to and wanted to warn Yeosang, but remembered the strict command she was given.

"Gave up already Hyung? I knew you're just all talk when you said you were a Dom-"

Yeosang groaned when Hongjoong took hold of his arms and swiftly tied them behind his back. Yeosang tested the ropes binding his hands and effectively discovered that they were very tight. He inhaled deeply when he felt something like leather stroke his ass cheeks. Hongjoong let out a soft chuckle as he brought the object close to Yeosang's face so he could take a look at what it was. The brown haired male paled slightly as he looked straight at the top of a black riding crop. Hongjoong used the tip to slightly turn Yeosang's head so he could see the sadistic smile across his face.

"I'm going to show you little brat how us Doms train you into submission."

After patting that stubborn head of his friend, Hongjoong held the riding crop over his head, momentarily keeping it there to keep a suspenseful atmosphere. Y/N looked over at Yeosang with a worried look, meeting her eyes briefly, he sent a wink her way, silently assuring her that he was completely fine with it.

Swish

"Ahh!"

Yeosang let out an almost pained howl when the first strike came down on his ass.

"One." Hongjoong began.

One stroke soon turned to 5, and then 10, Yeosang's milky white skin started as a bright pink but was now a deep red. He kept his face buried in the mattress underneath him which drowned out his screams and whimpers. All throughout his ordeal, Y/N rubbed her legs together, pressing her thighs against each other, quickly becoming aroused once more and feeling needy once more. Yeosang's whining was not helping her case either, if anything his behavior was making her want to disobey her boyfriend as well, her hand creeping dangerously close to her knee.

"Are you going to apologize for being a brat now or should I keep going? The longer you drag this on, the longer it'll take for both you and Y/N to cum. I mean look at her..."

Grabbing a hold of Yeosang's hair, Hongjoong lifted his face so he could look over at the squirming girl on his chair.

"She's practically aching for you to be inside her."

Although Yeosang wanted to continue his defiance, not only was he craving his own release, but seeing Y/N made him rethink his choice.

"Yeosang, I'll tell you what. Give up now....and I'll let you take her ass."

Y/N couldn't believe her ears. Hongjoong wasn't serious was he? Yeosang sucking in a breath answered that for her, and more so when he immediately did as he was asked.

"I'm sorry f-for being a brat Hyung. I p-promise it won't happen again."

Flipping him on his back, Hongjoong gripped Yeosang's red and painfully erect cock in his hand, making the younger boy hiss in pleasure and pain.

"Tell me what you want Yeosang." Hongjoong ushered him to speak up, his thumb running across the other's slit.

"Wanna make our girl feel good. Wanna be buried inside her and fuck her like a queen."

As he spoke those words, he looked at Y/N with hooded eyes, hips bucking up as Hongjoong began stroking him gently, soft moans and grunts coming out from Yeosang's mouth, the very same ones Hongjoong wanted to hear from the beginning.

"And you will baby boy, but can you both be patient for a little bit?"

Hongjoong turned when Y/N let out a frustrated whine, bottom lip poking out.

"I'll get to you soon kitten ok? But let me help Yeosang for a little bit. He hasn't gotten a chance to come even once and he's throbbing in my hand right now."

Having been frustrated for too long, Yeosang melted into Hongjoong's touch when he picked up the pace and began to stroke him harder. He tried biting his lip in an effort to hold back his noises but Hongjoong halted his movements.

"Open your mouth and let those filthy moans come out your throat or else I'll put a cock ring on you."

As if on cue, Yeosang's began releasing the most unholy series of whimpers and whines as Hongjoong pumped him into a dazy haze that would soon be broken and explode all over his Hyung's hand. He just needed an extra push and he'd come collapsing from his already high state. Hongjoong felt when Yeosang began twitching, a sign he was going to come.

"Hyung-Hyung!-"

Hongjoong immediately dropped to his knees and opened his mouth wide to catch some of the cum that spurted out of Yeosang, leaving Y/N speechless. She knew her boyfriend was rather kinky and had interesting tastes, but this just made her let out a big 'oof' at his actions. And what followed just made her practically drip. Taking advantage of Yeosang's sensitive state, Hongjoong licked up his softening dick and made sure to press his tongue piercing into his slit, making Yeosang push him off, unable to take anymore.

"Ok baby boy, guess you're not ready for overstimulation yet." Hongjoong ruffled his hair before cupping the red faced boy's cheeks and kissing him softly, drilling his tongue in his mouth, letting him not only taste himself but allowing him to play around with his tongue piercing that always made him curious.

They were only broken from their amorous trance when they heard a frustrated squeak coming from the poor girl sitting on the chair in front of them.

"I think we've neglected our princess for too long Hyung." Yeosang was the one who got up and went over to fetch Y/N, who eagerly accepted his embrace and let him carry her over to the bed.

Hongjoong was already getting out the lube to help with the process that was about to come.

"I don't know....I'm tempted to make her wait a little more."

Y/N shook her head furiously to which Yeosang giggled.

"Don't worry princess. I'll make sure you're more than satisfied."

Turning her so her back was to his chest, Yeosang took the lube from Hongjoong's hand and poured some onto his fingers. Hongjoong in turn tilted Y/N's chin, and made her look at him.

"You're lucky Yeosang is nice kitten. If it were up to me, I'd make you wait around and beg like the whiny bitch you are."

Y/N poked her bottom lip out, making puppy eyes at Hongjoong so he wouldn't follow through on it. Wanting to assure her, Yeosang pressed kisses on her shoulder.

"Don't listen to him princess."

Yeosang slipped two of his lubed fingers into her tight hole, reading her body signals and slowly prepping her. Sensing her apprehension, Yeosang looked over at Hongjoong.

"Should we maybe try something else?"

But Y/N didn't want to deter them.

"No! Please! Fuck both my holes."

Yeosang instantly got hard once again at her words. When Y/N pressed herself back onto his length, he got the hint that she wanted them to stop stalling. As Yeosang finished lubing her up, Hongjoong lined himself up at her entrance, not needing to prep her pussy hole as she was practically soaked to the core, making it easy for him to slide inside her. Even after all the times he had entered her in the past months, she could still not get over the feeling of his pierced dick stretching out her walls. Before she could fully get adjusted to him, Yeosang was already sliding into her other tight hole, causing a pained shiver to run down her spine. Hongjoong rapidly kissed her to distract her from the uncomfortable feeling. Yeosang as well slid his hands up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples softly as he fully inserted his length inside her, fighting the urge to move until she adjusted to his size.

After a few minutes, she pulled away from Hongjoong's kiss and nodded at him.

"You good?" He asked one last time.

"I'm good." Turning her head back so she could look at Yeosang, she added: "Go ahead."

Giving each other an enthusiastic look, both men began moving inside of her. Y/N had never felt so full, each time one of them slipped out of her, the other was already slipping back in, never allowing her to get a moment's rest from the overwhelming feeling they were giving her.

"You're enjoying this aren't you kitten? I can feel you clenching all around me and I bet that other hole of yours is squeezing Yeosang as well."

With no warning, Hongjoong slipped his hand back and struck her ass twice, causing her to yelp.

"Aren't you, you whore?"

As soon as he finished his words, Yeosang stepped in to caress her slapped skin.

"It's ok princess, it's just means we're fucking you right like you're supposed to be."

Y/N loved the polar opposites both of them were giving her. Hongjoong's degradation being softened by Yeosang's praise and care was something she didn't know she needed until she felt a familiar coil build up in her lower stomach.

"She's close..... can you tell Yeosang? With the way she's struggling to breathe and her walls tightening, she's about to burst all over." Hongjoong noted.

Reaching over to fumble with her clit, Yeosang whispered in a raspy voice:

"Cum for us baby girl. Just let it out."

Feeling the coil snap inside, she cried out their names as they slowed down their movements, letting her come down from her high and become relaxed. She was completely unaware of the slick smiles and hints they exchanged between themselves. Taking advantage of her unfocused state, Hongjoong gripped her hips while Yeosang wrapped his hand around her neck, both jolting they began pounding into her at an even fiercer speed than before, loud squealching sounds echoing through the room as incoherent babbling came from Y/N's mouth, tears dripping down her cheeks from their overstimulation.

"Joong...Sang..-"

Hongjoong slapped her ass once again.

"Wrong name stupid, stupid kitten."

Any word she even thought of spitting out was choked out by Yeosang's grip tightened around her throat.

"It's Master and Sir to you little pet."

"S-sorry......m-master...s-sir-"

With tremendous effort, she managed to get out those 3 words in between her whimpered screams that were probably being heard by the neighbors, not to mention the creaking of the bed underneath them. Being overstimulated past her limit, it didn't take long for Y/N to become undone once more, this time even more violently than the previous one. If the boys hadn't been holding her up, she would have collapsed onto the bed. But their strong arms, both tha tattooed ones and the non-tattooed held her up as both boys chased their own release. Through gritted teeth, they let out choked moans, making sure to fill her up to the brim as they coated her walls with their sticky cum. Once they garnered enough strength and their headspace, they pulled out of her, a trail of slick cascading down her thighs. Y/N winced at the sudden void that action left in her, her eyes focused on the ceiling as her mind just stayed blank from all the events that just happened. Yeosang was the first one to get up.

"I'll go run a bath."

Understanding what he was doing, Hongjoong leaned down and brushed some of the hair sticking to his girlfriend's forehead off her face. Kissing the spot gently, his tone turned more soft and warm than what it had been minutes ago.

"It's ok, you did so well my love. We'll run you a nice bath and then tuck you into bed so you can rest ok?"

Her mind barely processed what he said, she simply nodded and allowed herself to be carried by Hongjoong into the bathroom. Yeosang was in the process of making sure the water temperature was perfect and had already added scented bubble bath mix in there to help her relax more.

"You certainly do go the extra mile." Hongjoong pointed out.

Yeosang shrugged.

"Just cause she's not mine doesn't mean I'm not going to take care of her after I practically helped you fuck her brains out."

Both Y/N and Yeosang thought they were too worn out and dumb to fully comprehend the next words Hongjoong spoke.

"As far as I'm concerned, she's also yours after tonight."

Y/N craned her neck to look at Yeosang's reaction, who sat there incredulous.

"I mean, if you don't want to I understand..."

Hongjoong looked over at his lover, knowing fully well she would not mind adding their savage yet charismatic accomplice into their relationship. After Y/N gave him a reassuring smile, Yeosang stood up and took her away from Hongjoong's embrace.

"Guess you're mine now too princess."

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

550 notes · View notes

lydias--stiles · 3 years

Text

because your kiss is on my list

alternatively: four times juke snuck up on each other for affection and the one time they didn’t have to | based on the achingly beautiful fanart by @lovelyrugbee

Luke was being manic again. And not in a cute: “Oh my God, he’s so passionate about music!”-way, but in a: “He might actually tear his eyes out from these infuriating lyrics that aren’t working”-way. Every once in a while, songs didn’t flow out as easily as they usually did. The topic was a bit trickier, or the instrumentals didn’t mesh, or something was just off. Julie wasn’t too stressed about it. They had plenty of time to rework and fix things before the gig in two weeks.

Unfortunately, Luke didn’t have the same mindset.

He has been holed up in the studio all day, cramped on the windowsill to the point of submitting himself to a hernia and scrapping writing scrapping scrapping scrapping. The sound was infuriating, Alex being the first to poof out and Reggie following soon after when Ray became far more interesting than a guitarist going haywire. Which was sad, cause her dad was just unloading groceries.

Alright. She had to do something. Standing at the doors of studio with a somewhat amused expression, she took in as her boyfriend was oblivious to the world and her. In any other situation, he’d notice and compliment the orange dress she was wearing. She thought about calling his name, maybe singing or jamming her fingers on the piano, but then a better idea came. A fun one.

Quietly slipping closer, a mischievous grin crawled on her lips. Thank God she was barefoot, or else her sneakers would’ve squeaked against the cement floors. He still hasn’t noticed her, the pinch between his brow so deep and lost in thought.

Three, two, one...

“Ah!”, she cried out like a warrior, snapping her arms around him from behind and snatching the damned songbook from his grasp. Before he could react, she smacked a wet kiss on his cheek and added a “Mwah!” for good measure.

The startled Luke began chuckling, trying to get his book back, her peppering more kisses on his cheek in retaliation. He had to get out of this funk! Breathe a little! Turning his cheek to look at her, he smirked. “Sneaking kisses now, Jules?”

Julie hummed against his skin, eyes sparkling. Whispering in his ear, she said: “Stop breaking your head over these lyrics and relax. We have time.”

His smile softened, gaze tracking the way she hugged him and then- “I like the dress you’re wearing.”

Ah, yes. There he was.

Julie Molina truly made the afterlife less boring and a whole lot more bearable. Which became really apparent whenever she had an avalanche of homework and couldn’t hang out. Luke loved his boys, but damn did he miss his girlfriend a lot now. If the situation were different (you know, had he not been head over heels in love with her), he’d poof up to her room and annoy her until she came to the studio. Alas, he respected his girlfriend and her interest in getting good grades, so he had to deal with it.

Bleh. “Dealing with it” was like a curse word to him.

He hasn’t seen her all day though. She left early for school and didn’t pass by the studio when she got back. All he needed was a quick look and talk and maybe a hug and then he wouldn’t be so antsy.

(What he’d give to wrestle her into cuddling right now. He was honestly blessed he found a girl who saw all of his need for affection and then gladly gave triple the amount.)

Yup. Screw homework. He had to see her. Without telling the boys, he stood up with a huff and poofed out. The offended “hey!” from Alex he ignored.

Dropping into Julie’s room, a smile instantly bloomed on his face at the sight of her. She was on her bed, textbooks and notes splayed out in front of her while her curls danced with each breath she took. Even when tired, his girlfriend was pretty as hell.

“Hey,” he grinned.

She didn’t look up and mumbled: “Hey.” A page turned. “What’re you doing here?”

Luke sat down on the edge of her bed, far enough so her pens wouldn’t roll away. “Haven’t seen you today. I missed you.”

This time she did look up, her weary eyes softening and smiling. “I missed you too. I have homework though, so...” The implication was there: please leave so I can finish. His hope for a hug quickly dwindled.

“Yeah,” he muttered, not ready to go back and get slapped by Alex. “Uh...” His eyes fell on her right hand, slightly more outstretched then the other. It just... laid there. Teasing him. Freaking tantalising him when he knew how good it felt whenever those fingers brushed his cheeks or raked his hair.

It happened before he thought about it. Crawling onto the mattress, he snatched her hand and pressed soft kisses on the knuckles. Julie caught his gaze again, that smile he loved so much melting into an adoring puff - like she couldn’t believe this idiot was her boyfriend.

He didn’t mind being her idiot.

Sometimes, Julie was just that more adorable. Like now, with her hair spread around her shoulders and that small smile stuck on her lips and her eyes that seemed impossibly soft today. All for him, only for him.

Sure, it was probably because they were working on one of their personal songs, but the fact remained that his girlfriend still left him rendered speechless months into dating.

“What if we try it in a lower key?”, Julie proposed, nodding at his guitar.

The song in question was a song about them. It wasn’t so lovey-dovey that it would turn the guys off, but it was still blatant. Only they would write about ‘the sea glass green of his eyes’ and ‘the smile that put Mona Lisa to shame’.

He did what she asked, her singing the same verse again. It held more depth now, soulful and lively. The rasp in her tone made it playful and egged him on to join, like it was truly banter between lovers put to music. It was them. It was her. It was-

Luke abruptly stopped playing, pushed his guitar aside and grabbed onto her. She hardly had time to chuckle as he pressed his lips onto her forehead and held her as tight as possible. Warmth filled his chest, that strange sensation of being loved and loving back twice as hard, as she clutched his body. He almost got choked up. Here he was, in the sundrenched studio with the girl he adored playing the music they created together and she was singing it in such a quintessentially ‘them’ way. No one but them would ever truly understand the magic they conjured. How it was only explained through grins melting on skin and the giddy skip in his heartbeat.

“What’s that for?”, she smiled.

His hand trailed from her back to her cheeks with an elated shrug. How could he explain to her her ‘Julie-ness’ was dialled up to two hundred without sounding insane? Caressing the skin, he murmured instead: “I guess you’re just irresistible today.”

Her eyes squeezed shut at his words, like she was embarrassed how much delight it brought her, and pressed her face back in his shoulder.

Letting that giddy skip in his chest kiss her again, he gently pulled away to sent her a wink. “Let’s finish ‘Wicked Love’, yeah?”

“So, Flynn’s been thinking-”

“Mh-hm.”

“-about a new poster for the gig we’re playing. The old one is a little amateur and she made some new concepts. Wanna see?” Julie held her phone at his face, his hand leaving the strings of his guitar to gently push it back. Falling back on the bed, she frowned.

“Maybe later, I’m figuring out this progression...” His back bend over his guitar again, only giving her a view of the black muscle tee.

When Luke told her he wanted to hang out that Saturday afternoon, she had hoped it would be a bit more ‘Julie and Luke’ and not ‘Luke and His Guitar’ - alas, the girlfriend was competing with a piece of wood and some metal. While texting Flynn about graphic design was fun, it was time for Luke to start doing what he promised her.

Then again, she was a sucker for music talk. “Why don’t you try switching up the chords? Start with G instead of C.”

He tried it out, a grin crawling on his cheeks. “Yeah... yeah, that works. Thanks, Jules.”

“So?”, she sang.

“Hm?”

With a sigh, she grabbed onto the strap of his guitar and gave it a tug. Luke’s neck rolled backwards in surprise, catching her playful smile.

Chastely pecking his forehead, she said: “Your head is in the clouds.”

The teasing look of his matched hers. “You’re kissing my head right now.”

“Mh-hm,” she mumbled, loving the way his hair had that perpetual scent of apple and something inherently Luke. Kissing the locks, she added: “And you’ll be getting a lot more if you actually start hanging out with me.”

His book and instrument slid off his body just like that as he speared her into hug. Luke collapsed onto her body with the cutest grin and she knew she caught him. Their laughs chimed throughout the house for the rest of the day.

+5.

Luke poofed onto her bed with a grin, his girlfriend automatically snuggling into his side and finding each other’s lips with ease. For a beat, they’re cherished the quiet passion shared between them. They didn’t need to do a lot to feel loved by the other.

He pressed his nose into her curls. “How was school?”

“Good,” Julie whispered against his neck. “How was the studio?”

“Chill. Reggie scared a spider.”

She giggled, the sound making his grin widen and hide his face so she wouldn’t see how ridiculously giddy she made him. Turning her head so she’d see him anyway, her nose scrunched. “I know you’re smiling.”

“That’s my line, Molina,” he huffed, the teasing glint shimmering in his eyes.

A signature brow quirked. “You got that on paper?”

He didn’t miss a second. “I love you.” He didn’t need to ponder or linger or rewrite or scrap or workshop the thought. It wasn’t even a thought. It was a truth and he’d repeat that truth over and over again until the universe knew it too and kept it in their books for centuries to come. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

The smile that came was worth the truth, how her love for him broke through without a moment of hesitation. Now she’d say the same, over and over and over again, so the universe knew they were talking about each other and would always keep their names together in said books.

Julie kissed him again, long and sweet and as easy as breathing. Her utters were barely audible, but his heart caught it. “I love you too.”

Locked in their embrace, they shared earphones listening to their favourite music until they fell asleep. (How Luke could fall asleep, but only when in her loving touch, he wouldn’t question. Some oddities of the universe were best unsaid.)

@blush-and-books @unsaid-emily @bluefirewrites @willexx @ourstarscollided @alexjulies

#its after midnight so excuse if its a jumble #ophelia? using metaphysical similes? why of course its the libra in me #juke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #otp: i think we make each other better

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qitwrites · 3 years

Text

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Midoriya is the one that begins the entire ‘nervous system compression’ ritual.

Back at the training camp, when he was banged and bruised and tattered to all hell, bumping into Shoji had been the best-case scenario. Being wrapped up in his many, many arms had cocooned Midoriya’s body from further damage, provided him with great mobility, and Shoji’s grounding personality had been a major reassurance during a frankly abysmal situation.

After they’d finally recovered Bakugou, and after that tragically big reveal of All Might’s biggest kept secret, something in Midoriya had broken.

He was still doing his best to train his quirk, he was still doing his best to exist and thrive alongside his classmates, to study and work hard and eat well and sleep on time. For the most part, he was himself, and he was doing ok.

But then there were the nightmares. Nightmares in which Bakugou misses Kirishima’s hand, or All Might dies at the hand of All for One, or Midoriya somehow fucks up and gives the League of Villains One for All. There’s visions of his friends laying dead at his feet, of the world burning to the ground, and the utter helplessness of letting his friends down, letting his teacher and his idol down, letting them burn.

Sometimes, the world exerts a pressure on Midoriya that would put Atlas to damn shame.

2 weeks after the Kamino incident, when Midoriya is sitting at his desk, his dumbbell moving up and down as he pores over his notes, a wave of anxiety, sudden and heavy, rolls over him and he can’t breathe. There’s not enough air in the room, in the entire world probably, and his vision tunnels, darkening around the edges. He drops the dumbbell and clutches his head, trying to get his breathing under control, but it isn’t working, and he can’t seem to hear or see or breathe.

Distantly, he remembers the training camp. His memories of that time are tainted by the agony he felt when Dabi had vanished with Bakugou in his grip. He doesn’t remember the more fun parts, the training and the cooking and the overall learning experience. He just remembers pain.

And then, a small part of him, so small he almost misses it, remembers warmth.

He remembers how warm Shoji was. He remembers feeling, amidst all the panic and chaos, a sense of safeness in Shoji’s arms. He remembers burrowing in that space against his back, and he knows, even though they failed, that he was only able to find a way to help Tokoyami because Shoji gave him his support, took care of him, supported his weight and his burden, if only for those few minutes.

He remembers how warm Shoji was. And he realizes, even as he’s choking for air, that he wants to feel it again.

The walk from his dorm to Shoji’s feels endless. He stumbles along and drags his feet, and he’s not really seeing at this point, moving mostly from muscle memory. He usually visits Todoroki and Uraraka in their rooms, but he’d memorized the entire layout within the first three days of moving in. Shoji lives two floors above him, right next to Kirishima.

When he finally gets there, he’s hollow and empty and there’s still not enough air. A flash of worry pierces through him because he doesn’t want to bother Shoji right now. He doesn’t even know if its ok, what he’s about to ask for. He doesn’t know if it’ll help, if it’s what he needs. He worries, the way he always does, and the air around him is disappearing faster, and he just wants to breathe.

Somehow, before he can talk himself out of it, he reaches up and knocks, pulling his hand away quickly.

10 seconds. He’ll give himself 10 seconds to wait and see if anyone answers, and then he’ll leave and never bother Shoji again.

Shoji comes to the door in 4.

He opens up, clad in pajama pants and nothing else, his iconic mask covering the lower half of his face even in his own room. He looks at Midoriya patiently.

‘I-‘ Midoriya chokes out, voice rough and scratchy. ‘I am having a panic attack.’

Shoji’s eyes widen marginally. ‘Whoa, ok. How can I help?’

If his vision hadn’t started to tunnel again as he hears Shoji say that Midoriya might’ve noted how easily Shoji had understood the situation, and how quickly he was asking Midoriya what he wanted, rather than doing whatever he thought was appropriate. He knew what he was doing. Clearly, he’d done this before.

Midoriya tries to breathe in, and it gets stuck somewhere in his chest and everything hurts but he starts to ramble, ‘I read in a scientific journal somewhere that our nervous system controls our emotions and that when we are anxious, there’s a dissonance in how we function and there’s a quick fix for it, well maybe not a fix, but more like a way to help, if only a little. It’s like a nervous system compression.’

Shoji listens to him with a furrowed brow before carefully asking, ‘Are you saying you want a hug? Will it help you if I hug you?’

To put it simply, yes. Midoriya wants a hug. Midoriya needs a hug. His body physically needs to be grounded because there’s not enough air and he’s going to pass out if his breath keeps getting stuck in his throat and his fingers are numb and the back of his neck is cold and it hurts.

Midoriya nods because the words are getting stuck in his throat.

Shoji opens his arms slowly, and Midoriya looks up. Shoji holds his gaze and carefully moves forward, keeping himself completely in Midoriya’s line of sight.

‘I’m going to hug you now,’ Shoji says, ‘and I’m going to hold you tight. If you want me to ease up, or get off, just tap me anywhere once. If you want me to tighten up, tap twice.’

Midoriya feels himself starting to hyperventilate and then -

Warm.

Shoji is so warm. He exudes heat, his skin soft and warm and alive. He wraps himself around Midoriya, and he blankets him from everything, driving away the light, the distant sounds of Ashido yelling at Kaminari, the cries of the cicadas, everything. He holds Midoriya against his chest, and he holds him tight. Shoji is strong, ridiculously so, and he knows Midoriya is strong too. He holds him with the kind of pressure that actually lets Midoriya breathe.

And so he does. His shoulders start to slump as he takes one deep inhale followed by another, measured and timed. He follows the rhythm of Shoji’s breathing, follows the rise and fall of his chest, and his fingers loosen up, warming slowly. Hesitantly, he brings his hands up and puts them around Shoji’s middle and receives an encouraging squeeze.

From there, the tension seeps out of him, slow and heavy, draining out of every jagged edge and every crack in his body. When he feels another wave of anxiousness, he taps Shoji’s back twice, and Shoji squeezes, hard enough that Midoriya’s breath stutters, but also hard enough that the anxiety slips away, almost tangible in its intensity. Belatedly he realizes that he’s been crying, but he can’t apologize when his face is smooshed against his friend’s chest.

After what seems like forever, Midoriya is breathing again. He feels somewhat normal. He feels as close to normal as possible, at least. He has feeling everywhere in his body. Nothing feels stuck in his throat, and his mouth isn’t dry. His tears have stopped, and his hands aren’t shaking. His heart is beating, fast and strong and slow. He takes in one more steadying breath before tapping Shoji’s spine once.

The arms around him loosen slowly, opening him back to the world. The overhead lights are bright, almost too much, but Midoriya looks straight ahead, right at Shoji’s chest as he pulls his arms off and steps back slowly. Shoji keeps his arms on Midoriya’s shoulders, and he waits. Patiently, he waits for Midoriya to speak, he waits for him to make the next move.

‘I’m ok,’ Midoriya says, rubbing at his eyes. He sees Shoji nod and pull away his arms, always in Midoriya’s line of sight.

‘That’s good. Can you see and hear properly?’ Midoriya nods. ‘Awesome! And your breathing is ok?’ Midoriya nods again.

‘That’s great Midoriya, well done.’

Midoriya barks out a watery chuckle, and then he remembers his tears.

‘Oh,’ he says, reaching into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief, ‘I haven’t used this yet. Please wipe off my tears and possible snot.’ He turns beet red with embarrassment.

Shoji doesn’t laugh though, or even look disturbed. He takes the offered cloth and wipes his chest gently.

‘No problem at all. I will give this back after washing it.’

Midoriya shakes his head, ‘It’s my snot, it’s fine! I can just…’

‘It’s ok, Midoriya. I’ve got it. Really not a problem.’

They stand by the door for a while longer, not speaking but not really needing to either. Shoji is just endlessly patient, and Midoriya is breathing again, and the world feels ok.

When he feels brave enough, Midoriya looks up and catches Shoji’s eyes.

‘Thank you.’ It’s quiet, but his voice doesn’t waver.

Shoji gives him a nod. His eyes are softer, just a little bit. ‘It was not a problem at all.’

Midoriya worries his bottom lip with his teeth before breathing out with a huff. ‘I, um, I was hoping I could, maybe, if this happened again, I could come back to you for a, you know, a nervous system compression? If you’re ok with it?’

Shoji’s eyes go softer still, and he holds Midoriya’s gaze the entire time as he says, ‘Absolutely. I’m here when you need me. Don’t forget that, ok?’

Midoriya gives him a smile, small and tentative but true, and Shoji squeezes his arm. They say their goodbyes in hushed tones and Midoriya walks back to his dorm slowly, feeling more aware of himself than he has in days.

That night, he doesn’t dream. It’s the best sleep he’s had since Kamino.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha: thicker than blood #midoriya izuku #shoji mezo #panic attack #hurt/comfort #platonic comfort #i think shoji would make a great hugging partner #midoirya knows this too #i think the entire class would face a lot of nightmares and anxieties post kamino you nkow??#they all need a hug damn

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lunaekalenda · 3 years

Note

So I have this idea for the longest time now and I would like to see if you can make something out of it 😂

STORY TIME! Marley has something similar to the witches trial going on and witch!reader runs away to Paradis, joining the scouts and she and levi get all lovey dovey. After a while, they discover that she's from Marley and think that she's betraying them, so they make a pact with Zeke to give her back in exchange to leave Paradis alone. Soon everyone realize that she didn't betrayed them and was about to be burned. Fluffy ending where she's saved or angst 😈

wooooow i'm buYING IT!!!!!! i love witch concept omg, i hope you like it!! <3

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❁ levi x witch!reader

❁ mention of death, witches trial, death by burning, stitching :'), mention of con sex, season 4 and manga minor spoilers.

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You were only five when they burned your neighbor in the public place. It was a cold day, your mother's arm around your shoulders, her gaze searching silently the other witches of your coven. They were looking at their friend, their superior, being licked by flames. But she was totally straight, her eyes fixed on the cardenal. He was smiling.

Now you're running out of Marley. The trials are more and more popular. They judged half of your coven. Your mother told you to leave, to use your power to escape. So, after taking something to eat and a cape, you started running. Running until you saw the ocean. You look at both sides, making sure there’s no one around you, before closing your eyes and concentrate in the sound of your crow, possessing it’s body. You start to fly, searching land to stop at. You look around, a little island can be seen some kilometers away. You’re tired oof running, but you think you can arrive there. You keep flying, more and more tired. You’re near, but you can see tents in the beach. There are tents. And people. Your mind starts to panic. Transforming in front of this people will make you suspect. You look to the little forest near the beach. It seems empty. You fly towards there, really really tired. You start to notice how your body gets heavier. And, faster than you thought, your human body was back, making you fall into the ocean. The water enters on your nose and ears, and makes your dress heavier. You swim, but you’re so tired, and your head hurts because of the impact. You let your body connect with the sea, the waves hugging you.

“Please, take me to that island, mother Ocean.” the salty waves start to rock softly, making you near to the beach little by little. Your eyes start to close, the sweet movement of the sea relaxes you. You’re so tired...

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“It’s a girl, captain.” You hear the voice of a boy near. Also, some people mumbling around. You start to open your eyes, finding a girl pointing you with a gun. The boy who talked, extremely tall, looks at you again. “She’s awake.” There is a lot of people around you. Boys and girls, all dressed in black, are talking about the girl that appeared on the sea.

“Who of you took her out of the ocean?” a deep voice is heard. You stay quiet, the brown-eyed girl keeps pointing her gun at you. A man enters your vision camp. His grey eyes examined you from above. His gaze was serious.

“I did.” a black haired girl talked. “What should we do with her, Captain Levi?”

Levi looks at you, and you keep your eyes on his. His eyebrow raises.

“Should we kill her?” a boy says.

“No! we should interrogate her!” someone says.

“Tsch, shut up you all.” The man keeps looking at you. His sharp features make him look so attractive... “From where do you come?” he asks. You have to think, or use your powers. It’s highly improbable that they count with another witch on their team, so no one is going to notice how you research a close town. You choose a blonde boy. You concentrate in his brain, searching info. Armin. 19 years. Shinganshina district.

"Shiganshina district." you say. Levi looks at you, trying to know if you’re telling the truth. He clicks his tongue. The blonde boy looks to the girl with a scarf, and she looks to a long-haired boy next to her.

“Do you know her?” Levi asks. The three of them shake their heads, but it was easy to change their opinion.

Change people’s memories is not that hard for a witch of your level. Just making your face appear in one of them’s memories.

“Oh, I know her!” the long-haired boy talks now. “I think her family lived behind me.”

Levi looked at him, and then back at you.

“Sorry for you, but you can’t go back to Shinganshina. You’ll have to stay here for a bit.” A person with glasses shows behind him.

“Levi, let me talk to her.” they ask. He helps you to get up, but you still feel the gun pointing at your back. “I’m Hange Zöe, the Commander of the Survey Corps. You’re in our camp, near the coast. Since we don’t have information about you, you’ll be held here. You can choose to be helpful for us, either training with our soldiers to help us, or doing some paperwork or cleaning. I’m sure Levi can help you in any way.” The man keeps being on your side. “Then, what do you choose?” They ask, smiling at you.

“I work as a tailor, so I guess I can help with...”

“Oh, so you can sew wounds!” They say.

I wasn’t going to say that... you think for yourself

“Well, I only sewed clothes, but...”

"We need help with that, so you'll stitch the survey clothes and soldiers!" they say. Levi sighed and then reached your back with his hand.

"I'll show you your dorm."

Since a lot of soldiers where living there, as Levi told you, you got a shared room with a couple girls of the military. Sasha Braus and Mikasa Ackerman where your new roommates. Mikasa is really aware around you, just in case you're a traitor. Sasha, in the other hand, is really close to you, although she was the one pointing you with a gun. The first weeks you stayed there, it went really well: Sasha showed you the camp, presented to you the people and sat with you for eating. You tried to not use your powers that much, just in real emergency cases. All this time, you felt gazes on you, curiosity or hate gazes, but one was more heavy than others: a pair of intense grey eyes. Levi Ackerman had his eyes on you since you arrived here, months ago now, maybe because he's a Captain and has to neutralize every single danger he sees. Maybe that's why you feel him when you eat, run or work. He also goes and sits near to you, doing paperwork while you sew someone's coat.

"You're good. I'm sure your stitches won't leave a scar." he says. You keep sewing the coat, this time is Connie's coat. His gaze totally fixed on the letters he has on his hands. He has been looking for you for half a year now. He also has a strange flirty game on going, he likes to get closer to you and look at your body, but then he acts cold for a while. You sigh.

"I don't think so..."

Unfortunately, you had the opportunity to try on him days later, after an attack. His back needed stitches. So, there he was, half undressed and covered on blood, waiting for you to start bounding him. You started to pass the sew. The sensation of the needle trespassing his skin was horrible, but you tried to make your best. He didn't say a thing, with a piece of cloth in his mouth. You felt his jaw bitting the cloth with strength, trying not to move. You thought his endurance of pain is in levels you didn't know a human could reach.

You could have cured him with magic, but if they know it, they'll probably send you back to Marley, if they don't kill you in the moment. Once you finished, he stayed there, sitting, with some saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth after releasing the cloth. He passed his hand fast, cleaning it.

"Try not to move..."

"I got my skin stitched a hundred times and fought five minutes after." he says. "But thank you."

All the hours he spent by your side, doing paperwork and that stuff, you realized you found him attractive. His voice, his grey eyes, the way he looks at his friends. You want to be looked that way.

No, you want more.

Maybe it was a stupid idea. But you felt so attracted to him, like if his aura was calling yours. Your hand reached his back, the way his muscles tense with the touch. He looked at you from above his shoulder. You traced a little drawing on his skin, a no-sense form down his back. Surprisingly, he didn't ask you what the hell where you doing or moved away.

You wanted to know if he was even just a bit interested in you, but using magic will break totally the moment. So you kept moving your hands on his skin. It was warm, almost hot. He sighed. His hands dropped the shirt he was about to put on, and his muscles started to relax. At the same time, you got closer to him. Maybe he needed to unburden. Maybe he has been there for months, in need of a girl like you to help him. Your hands moved to his shoulders, dangerously near his neck. He raises his head, eyes closed. He's enjoying it, no doubt. His bony hands are now on his legs.

"Captain..." you ask quietly. "Are you feeling good?" he hums in answer. His back is totally relaxed now, and his eyes are still closed. The way he has his head, thrown back, lets you see his adam's apple, another attractive point of him. You wanted to kiss the point of his neck where it connects with his shoulders. His lips, always on a inexpressive facade. You wanted him to be a mess, asking for more. You wanted his bony hands marking your waist and his fingers ruining your hair. "Do you want me to stop?" your voice goes out like a whisper. He breathes in, deeply.

"No." His voice is raspy. He looks at you again, his grey gaze shining with... maybe interest? curiosity? desire? Maybe a mix of those three. "I never got someone to massage me after a battle. It feels nice."

Your heart skips a beat when you hear that. Was it your opportunity to tell him you feel attracted to him?

If it wasn't, you didn't care.

"Well, I could do this to you a hundred times, Captain." Your hand goes up and down his back, being careful with his stitched wound. "I was getting kinda confused, Levi..." you say. His back tenses again, but he lets you continue. "Why do you lend closer to me, but then act cold for days? I never got it." He takes a deep breath again.

"I'm a Captain. I'm in charge of a full squad of humans. Really good but kinda dumb humans." he says. "They're my responsibility and my team. I can't get distracted and lose a single one of them." he says. You nod, understanding.

"Wow, that's..." That's exactly how covens work. In Marley, witches are the worst of the worst. And the Island people, demons. You thought maybe you're not that different, after all. "That's amazing, Levi."

His eyes shot open after hearing that. You weren't telling him his sword abilities are amazing or his control of the ODMS. You were telling him his way, his human being, was amazing. But he called you a distraction. You stand up. But his hand reaches your wrist.

"Oi." he calls you. "Come back here."

"I don't want to distract you, I understand your..." his voice interrupts you.

"You asked why I always act cold with you, right? Because if I didn't have to go and kill those damn titans and marleyans I would had kissed you a while ago." he says. So, after all, he does found you interesting, at least.

Your mum always said that a boy only wants a girl because of sex. That's why she obligated you to wear vanila perfume, one that she made. It shows you the true intentions of the people around you. You concentrate on Levi's aura.

You're not going to lie. Levi's aura is a bright red. He finds you attractive, and now he wants you. But even your aura looks like that.

So, two adults that want each other, what could go wrong?

That's why you kissed him. His lips quickly adapting to your pace, owning the kiss. He catches his breath.

"Are you sure about this?" his voice is even lower, his eyes darker. You nod. He caresses your blushed cheek with his thumb. Minutes later, your dress was mixed with his shirt, as well as your breath was mixed with his.

"Your back..." you told him. He was above you, so attractive. His sharp jaw tensed when your bodies touched.

"My back is fine." he says.

His hand traveled down your waist, your hands tangled on his hair, and his name was just a repetition on your mouth.

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Next morning, Levi is still asleep when you wake up. His handsome face is close to yours, and one of his hands rests in your back. You get up silently, dressing fast. You search your necklace, the one with magic properties.

"Searching this?" he asks. Your necklace is on his hand. "Witch." he adds. He gets up, totally undressed, and takes his pants from the floor. Starts to pull them on.

"N-no, you're..."

"We have been in a lot of missions on Marley." he says. "And all the prints in the streets advertised people about women with this necklace." he gets closer to you, really close. His eyes are fixed on yours. "Did you bewitched me?" You shake your head. Twice.

"I didn't"

"I've heard some witches work for Marley's government as spies." he says, looking at your necklace. "Are you also fucking the Marleyan commander?" he asks. He was being mean. "Lucky you, a man is coming later from Marley. Maybe if I give you to them, they will stop attacking us, hm?"

He was angry. He has his reasons.

He wanted to stop talking when he saw the first tears running down your cheeks. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. He was angry, thinking you bewitched him.

"You slept with me because you witches need a intimate bond to enter on my brain, right?" you shake your head again. He was so wrong, you never wanted to hurt him.

"Levi, I..." he put your necklace on his pocket. You were weak without it.

"Tell that to Zeke."

Zeke Jaeger.

Was him the same Zeke?

Zeke Jaeger never, never, absolves a witch.

"But he's going to kill me." you cry. Levi keeps getting dressed normally. He doesn't say nothing. How could he be so blind? Your necklace was always there, when he was cursing on your neck because of how good you felt. It was there.

But he found it this morning, when he moved and collided with your body.

Zeke landed on Paradis that afternoon. Levi told Sasha to look up for you, and the girl had his gun pointing at you since you came back from Levi's tent. Sasha and Mikasa didn't believe him.

"But if she is a spy, she should have tried to enter the archives or get information from Hange or Armin."

"And she even cured Levi a couple times!" Mikasa says.

Levi thought about it when you were going back to Marley. The pact is done, but, making rewind, you were never a dangerous person. Even Sasha asked you from where you were and she told Levi you were escaping from Marley! He's feeling bad now. He should had listened to you. And, fuck, he had your necklace. You were so easy to kill now. He knows they were going to judge you tomorrow morning. If they're fast enough...

"Damn!" he yells. Hange, sitting on the desk next to him, gets surprised. Levi goes out of the tent without a word, entering the cantina, where Sasha talks with Niccolo, adoration on his eyes, and Mikasa tells Eren to eat more. He searches the crowded table.

"Jean, Mikasa, Sasha. We're going on a mission."

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Moving on Marley at nights is so easy. The amount of drunk people and drunk guards is huge, so entering the prision is quite easy for Paradis' demons. Guided by Levi and his blades, the other ones enter on the prision were you're kept, your arms and legs bonded to a corner. Levi runs on the corridor, searching your cage. He found you easily: your pretty body snuggled on a corner and your low crying sounds making his heart break.

"Y/N!" Sasha says quietly, but with happiness.

"Sasha?" you ask. You see her ponytail bouncing behind her. And also all the other's figures.

They came. For you.

Even Levi is there.

His gaze is low and he's not looking at you in the eyes, as he usually do. Sasha looks around and tells Jean to look to the other corridor. Mikasa and Levi examinate the door.

"It's closed with magic." you whisper. "A witch that works for Marley did it. That's why there's no place for a key." Levi keeps looking at the ground.

"Isn't your magic strong enough to undo it?"

"They made me enter here without my necklace. They know it has all my power inside. Without it, I'm a human."

Levi reaches his pocket quickly, taking out the blue necklace.

"Oh, Captain you have it!" Mikasa says. Levi nods in silence, putting his arm between the bars. You get up and walk towards him. Your hands are really close, but you'll never be close enough to touch him. He swings the collar towards you and you take it, putting it around your neck once again. You feel how magic runs again on your veins.

"Are we going to see how she makes magic?" Jean says, truly amazed.

"Is she going to shine or transform?" Sasha asks at the same time.

"Now you should be able to open." you say. Jean and Sasha look at the other.

"What? Without thunders or lights?"

"Well, she's bleeding." Mikasa says. It's true that unmaking a curse is more tiring than making one, and the ones made to capture are really strong. That's why your nose is bleeding a bit. Once you're out, Levi takes a tissue for you.

"Thanks" you whisper. He also takes out a letter, written with his elegant handwriting. "For Zeke" it prays.

"No one in this door. We can leave." Jean says.

Outside, Levi takes you from your waist, and elevates the two of you with his ODM.

"Sorry." you both say at the same time. You let put a little laugh. "I should have told you the truth."

"You deserved to be listened." he says. His face is buried on your hair. He has you by his side now.

"Tie?" he laughs a bit.

"Tie"

After this, Zeke found the letter, of course. He was there, at Marley, getting angry because of a girl with a dangerous necklace.

Necklace that is stored in a drawer, while your head rests in the Captain's shoulder, back again at Paradis.

#aot fluff #aot x reader #snk fluff #snk x reader #snk fic #aot fic #aot scenario #aot fanfiction #snk headcanons #aot #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi #levi attack on titan #levi aot #levi x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi x y/n

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: I’ll be honest, this isn’t my best chapter, so please don’t judge too harshly I swear it gets better!!! (: Again, forever grateful for all the kind feedback. I truly appreciate it. If you asked to be on the tag list and I accidentally forgot, please let me know!

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Slight insinuation to sexual assault.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 & Chapter 4

Like I said before, I'm good at advertising. Although the cell phone towers are still down, making it harder for me to get the word out about a party in the boneyard, I still know how to get around to the other teenagers on this island.

I sneak in an hour of surfing on the beach, afterwards finding Tourons and even some Kooks. These are the best people to go to when you want word to get around. They're rich and live for gossip. They have the internet and cell phone service, which means they can text their friends and send out tweets. And that is exactly what they do when I'm finished talking to them.

Later, I go with JJ and John B to get the kegs. As they work their magic, somehow securing two, I walk around the lot where most kids who live on the Cut hang out, hoping to score cheap booze from a stranger walking into the beer and beverage store. I use to spend a lot of my weekends here when my dad first disappeared. A small part of me still wants to. It was so easy to forget about my life falling apart when I was too wasted to form a complete sentence.

I tell them about the party and tell them to tell their friends and so on.

As I expect, the empty boneyard fills up quickly. To Kie's dismay, almost every kid has a red solo cup in their hand instead of a reusable one by the time the sun sets. Music and the chants of people playing drinking games fill my ears like a bird chirping on a Sunday morning.

Beer dribbles down my chin and onto my pink v neck crop top. JJ has his arm linked around mine, also chugging his drink, trying to down his before me. However, I beat him by one gulp and slam my cup on the sand as triumph.

"Seriously, Mar?" Kie scolds. She picks up my cup and throws it away.

JJ just smiles at me, maybe even looks at me with some kind of pride. It's hard to beat JJ in any drinking match, but I'm his biggest competition. I usually lose against him, but sometimes I have my nights where I'm undefeated.

He points his finger at me, pretending to be mad without losing the smile on his face. He takes a menacing step forward and bends down to lift me over his shoulder. I squeal in surprise and laugh against his back as he swings me around in circles.

When he sets me down, I shove his shoulders playfully. "Looks like you've finally met your match." JJ just shakes his head. "Get me another beer, loser?"

"You're lucky you're cute." He winks.

You can't understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard. It's kinda like a three-layer burrito. There's us and our friends, working-class derelicts. Then, there are the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They're mostly from pouncy-ass boarding schools, just rich trustfarian posers. Our natural enemies. And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless. Here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks. They're usually my first pick. A night with no attachments and a more than likely chance I'll never see them again.

I walk past Kie, who's sitting on drift wood talking to someone about zodiac signs and horoscopes. And when I pass Pope, I hear him talking about dead bodies and how TV doesn't portray the biological condition of them accurately. I giggle to myself when I see who he's talking to. A really pretty girl who wasn't expecting to get an anatomy lesson from the boy next to her. I make a mental note to work on Pope's flirting tactics.

As I make my way to the back of the beach, I see Sarah Cameron leaning off a fallen lifeguard stand. Her boyfriend, Topper Thornton, is right there with her, trying to get her to come down. Sarah Cameron's known as the Kook princess. Kiara's best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade. None of us know why she started hating her all of a sudden. She doesn't like to talk about it so we don't bring it up. However, John B works on Sarah's dad's boat thanks to me.

My teeth clench together at the sight of both of them. The two of them and their friends are the worst Kooks of all. Bad memories prickle my brain like a million tiny needles and the palms of my hands sweat against my solo cup.

I walk to the back of the beach and lean against a tree that's as close to a palm tree as this island is going to see. I like being back here when the sun goes down. It gives me the perfect view of the party. Watching people laugh and have fun because of a night my friends and I put together makes me feel satisfied. Like I did something to make their day a little more enjoyable.

"Now what's the life of the party doing back here all by herself?" A voice that makes every muscle in my body turn to ice says.

I force myself not to look in his direction. My hands clench tighter around my cup until it bends and beer sloshes on my hand.

"Trying to avoid grimy wandering hands from pompous pricks," I say through clenched teeth. I'm surprised my voice isn't as shaky as I feel. "Go away, Rafe."

Rafe Cameron ignores me and moves to stand in front of me. His blonde hair is slicked back with a gel that's probably more expensive than my entire outfit. He's wearing a salmon pink button up shirt and white shorts. The sight of him makes me sick and I don't know if I want to drink more heavily or throw up and call it a night.

"Oh come on, Marleigh. Let's not pretend like you don't want to finish what we started."

I stand up straighter, feeling bile rise in my throat. "I'd rather rip both of my eyes out with a spoon." My insult wipes his stupid cocky grin off his smug face. At first I take it as a compliment, but the look in his eyes chills me to the bone. "Get out of here, Rafe. I'm not going to tell you again."

Rafe jerks forward and pushes me back into the trunk of the tree. His forearm presses against my chest, right below my collarbone. I try fighting him off but he's surprisingly strong. His eyes swing back and forth with craze, his pupils large and dilated. He's gotta be on something. Cocaine maybe. I've heard rumors.

"You think you can talk to me like that? After what my dad did for your friends?"

"Your dad only helped them in hopes to cover up the mistake that you made," I seethe, trying to push him away again. I try to keep my breathing even and my eyes unblinking. I don't want him to think I'm afraid of him. Even though I'm scared enough to vomit on his two hundred dollar shoes. "I owe you nothing." There's a pause as Rafe considers his next words carefully. So I push even harder. "You know, if you keep bringing it up, people might overhear and start to talk. I don't know if even your dad could buy the entire island's silence."

"You seriously think you can threaten me? You're nothing but a dirty walking piece of trash Pogue. No one will believe the Cut's biggest whore." Rafe shakes his head. "Remember that next time you think about talking to me like that."

His words cut through me like a stab in the chest, but I try not to let him see that. I push against him, keeping my face pinched and my eyes unwavering. "I'm not the same girl I was eight months ago," I say, finally pushing him away from me.

Back then I was a messed up girl who's dad had just left after a big argument that resulted in him thinking she hated him. All I wanted to do was drown myself with drugs and alcohol in hopes to forget about him, even if that meant following Kie to a Kook party when she was trying to roll around in the Kook life. I was easy to manipulate and take advantage of...easy to hurt. But not anymore.

"You think I'm above hitting a girl?" Rafe breathes heavily, his hands clenched to his side. I struck a nerve. One more and he might actually attack me.

"No," I say honestly. "I don't think you're above anything...or anyone. Including me - a dirty walking piece of trash Pogue." I use his words against him.

Rafe jerks forward and raises his hand to hit me and I'm ready for the blow and a fight back, but someone's voice forces us to halt, stopping us like she just pressed paused on a movie screen.

Kie watches us with wide eyes and glances back and forth between us. She looks both scared and angry. Rafe doesn't even bother looking in her direction. He's more disappointed that she got in his way.

I stand up straight again and walk past him, making sure to shove him backwards with my shoulder. Kie wraps her arm around mine and pulls me in close as she guides me away from him. She looks behind us one last time to make sure Rafe isn't following us. When the coast is clear, she stops and turns to look at me with a stone cold expression.

"What the hell was that?" She says, trying to read my face. "Are you okay?"

I can barely hear her behind the screaming in my head. Dirty walking piece of trash Pogue. The Cut's biggest whore. Who would believe you?

"Fine," I shrug, feigning nonchalance. I look back to where I was just standing. Rafe's gone, but the nausea he left me with isn't.

"Marleigh."

"Seriously, Kie. I'm fine. Just some unresolved built up resentment coming out full-fledged. I can't say I'm surprised. Now that summer's started, we're probably going to see a lot more of them."

Kie sighs and looks at me sympathetically. I hate that look. "You should tell the boys."

"What? No way!" I snap.

"What if he -"

"He's not going to." I glare at her.

"Why won't you just -"

"So they can think of me as some pathetic little girl who needs protection from some self-centered Kook? Besides, John B and probably JJ will go after him and the last thing either of them need is charges pressed against them."

The noise of people yelling at one another and some cheering stops Kie from fighting back with me. We turn to look towards the water, seeing a crowd form around two people fighting. Dread creeps up my chest. If I had one hundred dollars, I'd bet it all that one of my friends is the center of attention in that crowd.

Kie and I run to them, pushing ourselves to the front. My breath hitches in my throat when I see who's involved. John B and Topper are fighting ankle deep in the ocean, each one getting a few good punches in.

"John B, stop!" I yell. I don't care who started the fight or why Topper deserves to get beaten to shit. If John B gets caught, the two of us are more than screwed with DCS.

"We're suppose to be incognito, remember?" Pope yells at my brother next to me.

"Babe!" Sarah yells at her boyfriend, jerking back and forth, trying to grab him by the shirt to pull him back. But his movements are scrappy. Sarah would just get hurt.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The crowd around us cheer like it's a high school wrestling match and not my brother, the one that threw them this party by the way. I can't believe people find this as a source of entertainment. Half of them wouldn't even last a second if they were the one's getting beaten to a pulp.

Topper gets the upper hand and throws John B into the water. I flinch from the pain that must of caused to John B's back.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?" Topper says.

In that moment my vision turns red and a switch flips in my body. I picture my hands around Topper's neck and him begging for me to let him go - him taking back those words.

When I step into the water to reach him, arms wrap around my waist, stopping me from going forward. I glare at the blonde Pogue and try shoving him away from me but that only makes his grip on me tighten.

"JJ, let me go," I grunt.

"Sorry, pretty girl. Can't do that." His lips are so close that I can feel his breath.

John B tackles Topper to the ground and punches him in the face again.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"John B, let it go!" Kie screams. "Stop, you guys!"

Topper kicks John B's feet from under him and just like that, JB is back in the water. The Kook kneels next to him and punches my brother across the face before shoving his head into the water.

"Topper stop!" I yell.

"Come on John B!" Pope yells.

Topper lets John B come up for air before dunking him back in. I feel my chest tighten when I realize what Topper is going to do, whether he means to or not.

"JJ, please! He's going to kill him! JJ!" I cry against his hold.

"Come on, Man!" Topper taunts John B, keeping his head under water.

I'm going to kill him, I think. The second JJ lets go, I'm going to rip Topper apart.

"Topper, stop! No!" Sarah cries.

"Pope!" JJ says, swinging me around before pushing me into our other friend's arms. "Hold her."

"What? No!" I fight back but even Pope is stronger than I give him credit for.

JJ disappears to God knows where and I'm left watching like a stranded duck. I feel useless, like I should be doing more to help my brother. Everything I said to Rafe only minutes ago goes straight out the window. Maybe I am weak and still a girl who needs protecting.

Then the world freezes. JJ holds the gun we found in the motel to Topper's head, not only making Topper pause, but the rest of the crowd too. Pope releases his hold on me and I stumble away from him. I only watch the scene unfold in front of me with wide eyes.

"Yeah, you know what that is," JJ says, clicking the safety off the gun. "Your move, broski."

"Come on!" Pope yells. "Chill dude!"

"Stop! JJ!" Sarah cries. "Put the gun down!"

"Did you say something princess?" JJ turns towards Sarah and points his gun at the sky.

"We're good. We're good." Topper stumbles away from my brother to stand in front of his girlfriend.

The second he backs away, I'm in the water helping John B. I pull his upper back into my lap and push his hair out of his face. He coughs up a couple gulps of water before relaxing against me.

"Kie! Can you check your psycho friend, please!" Sarah yells.

"Okay, everyone, listen up!" JJ addresses everyone else who still watch in fear. "Get the hell off our side of the island!" He fires two bullets into the sky, causing people to shriek and cry around me.

"Are you crazy?" Kie yells at him. "Why do that?"

"I'm saving his life, okay?" JJ yells back at her.

When people begin dispersing, Pope runs into the water to help me lift John B back to shore. He's in a daze and barely able to stand on his own.

The four of them help me drag him back to the Chateau, the party long forgotten. Kie covers John B with blankets and places a glass of water on the nightstand for when he wakes up. I don't say anything as the night wraps up. I'm not mad at JJ like Pope and Kie. He did what he had to do to save John B. Topper could have killed him and the police would probably chop it up as an accident and I would be left with no family.

"You guys should go," I say.

I just want to be alone. Between Rafe and Topper, all I can think about is sleep so I can wake up to a new day. Start over and try again.

"Are you sure?" JJ asks, looking between my eyes to find any sign for him to stay.

As much as I want JJ to stay the night and let me cuddle into him like the night before, it's best if I'm alone. So I reluctantly nod.

"You can stay at mine tonight, JJ," Pope offers.

I offer a weak smile before turning around to lock myself in my room. When I hear the door to the Chateau close one last time for the night, I sigh deeply and stare up at my ceiling. I'm restless, anxious, sweaty. As much as I want sleep, sleep doesn't want me. I toss and turn hoping for a wave of darkness to hit me but it never does.

I glance at my clock. 3:04 AM. I roll my eyes and groan to myself, pushing myself up against my bed's headboard. I tip toe out of the Chateau and make my way down to the dock. I dip my toes in the water and lay back against the wooden slacks. The moon's half crescent illuminates the water, dark with a mystery glint. It's cold against the night, feeling refreshing against my skin.

Even my mind isn't tired. My head wanders with different thoughts. Rafe, Topper, Scooter, the gun...my dad. His words echo through my ears like a skipping record. The night before he disappeared he told John B and I that he might have to vanish for a bit. This only caused a major fight to brew between my father and I whereas John B only nodded and said okay. I think this is why John B still holds on to hope that he's alive somewhere.

John B was always the loyal one to my father. Although they fought almost as much as my dad and I, they were quick to move on and pretend like it wouldn't happen again. Even though it always did. He tried to help my dad keep me on track with school, friends, and other activities. Most of the time, he just joined in on my antics. Sometimes I regret not giving my dad enough credit. He was a single father to Pogue twins with the distraction of his own obsession. My last words to him haunt me every day I pass his office.

"I hate you!" I screamed. I didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears. I wanted him to know I was strong and that I didn't need him. I think my main intention was to hurt him like he hurt me, but I would do anything to take it back.

~ ~ ~

I wake up to the low rumble of an engine and the crunch of gravel underneath some tires. I blink away the sleep in my eyes, looking out into the marsh. The sun is above me, warming the entire island with it's summer heat so early in the morning.

My back aches as I sit myself up. I twist to find the noise that woke me up.

"Shit," I curse when I see the cop car parked in front of the Chateau.

Sheriff Peterkin sees me walking up my yard and waits for me to approach her before barging into my house. I squint against the morning light. Even though I'm not in the mood for a pop in, I actually like Peterkin. She's the only one I trust to do her job right.

"I hope you brought some coffee," I say before opening the door for her.

"This will be quick," She says. I watch her eyes scan my kitchen and living room judgmentally. "Where's your brother?"

I point to his room. Peterkin gives me a look to go first. I sigh, knocking twice on the door before letting myself in. John B is still passed out. Half of his body hangs off the bed. His left eye is officially black and blue, a mark I know Peterkin won't subtly ignore. It's the first thing she sees and gives me a sideways glance. I cross my arms and look away.

John B blinks up at us when he hears our footsteps. His brows furrow in confusion, sleep still fogging his head.

"Get decent, sweetie," Peterkin says. "We need to talk."

As we wait for JB to get dressed, I sit on the pull out couch in my living room, fumbling with my thumbs until he appears, dressed in an open button up and swim trunks. He glances between Peterkin and I for some answers but neither of us give him any.

"Sorry to break in like this," She says, pacing the floor. John B stands next to me with his arms crossed. "But DCS called. They wanted me to check on you. See how you two are doing." Neither of us answer. "So, how are you, besides -" She points to JB's shiner and I hold myself back from rolling my eyes. So far so good!

"Oh, no, I'm - I'm great," John B says, shrugging like our life is just full of rainbows and butterflies. "Yeah, fantastic. Uh... thanks for coming by."

Peterkin just smirks. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, John B, but I heard a few things that worried me. Let me see if I can remember. Oh yeah. One of the things I heard was that your Uncle Teddy, your guardian, hasn't been in the state for three months."

"Yes he has -"

Peterkin cuts me off. "You don't have to say anything. I know it's true. I called the school. They said you used to be a good student," She says, looking at John B. Then she looks at me. "You not so much. But John they say now you're failing all your classes."

"No. No, I'm only failing one and it's history. He's a dick. He's out for me - "

"I heard," Peterkin continues, not giving a damn about John B's bullshit excuses, "there was a fight on the beach yesterday, and a gun was involved."

My eyes snap up to look directly at Peterkin. I feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. What else was she going to ask? Would JJ get in trouble? Are we going to jail?

"Okay, gun?" John B plays dumb. "No. Did I get in a dustup? Yeah, but was there a gun? No. No way," He scoffs.

"That's okay I know who it was. I'll get to him. All I'm worried about right now is making sure you're in a safe home."

"Yeah," I say. "Super safe."

John B knocks the table next to him. "Super sound, sturdy. You know?"

"Uncle T's coming so..." I say to get John B to stop talking. He's a lot of things but a good liar isn't one of them.

"That's what he told you?" Peterkin looks at me with a raised brow.

"Yeah."

"If he is coming," Peterkin picks up a cigarette and sniffs it. "I think you should be allowed to stay."

"Thank you."

"But if I stick my neck out for you, you have to help me. Tit for tat."

John B tilts his head in confusion. "What - what does tat mean?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and let my head fall back. I swear I'm going to buy duct tape to keep this boy's mouth shut.

Peterkin ignores him. "Let me see, how can you help me? Oh, I know. So, a body was found in the marsh yesterday. Were you in the marsh yesterday?"

"Yeah," I decide to answer. "We were fishing for some drum."

"You catch anything?"

"Nah, we were skunked."

"Strange," She says, not believing me. "Fishing's usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up. You come across a wreck yesterday?"

"No." My heart falls deeper, but I try to keep a straight face.

This makes Peterkin sigh and she glances between the two of us. "You two are skimmin' just above the surface. Now, down here is foster care, juvie," She says, dropping her hand to about knee length. "Pretty big drop for smart kids like the both of you." She moves her hand to eye level. "Up here is you and your little friends doing whatever you want. Outer Banks...or foster care on the mainland." I let her threat swim in my brain. "You one inch above the surface, Routledge. If I was you, I'd start flapping my wings." She looks at us one last time, no longer wanting to play games. "Now, you sure you didn't come across a wreck yesterday?" She looks at John B who's more likely to blab than me.

I look up at my brother, warning him that he needs to lie.

He shrugs his shoulder, the lie sliding across his tongue like silk. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm sure."

Peterkin looks between John B and I and nods slowly. "It's better if you didn't, you understand? I'm gonna look the other way as long as you stay out of the marsh." She runs her finger along the wooden kitchen table and rubs the dust between her fingers. "I got dogs living better than this. You might wanna think about cleaning' up."

Peterkin lets herself out without saying goodbye. John B and I don't say anything until her car pulls out of the driveway and only then do we just share a look that says how screwed we both are.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @jeeperky @realistic-breadstick @moniamaybank @urbinoutfiters @brebear121

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albertasunrise · 3 years

Text

It’s Yours - Chapter 7

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Summary: You and Javier have been sleeping together for almost two years but after his name was leaked by the papers, he is sent home for investigation. You remain behind with Steve to catch Escobar but when he’s finally dead, you decide to go after the man you’ve fallen for. You don’t like what you find when you finally reunite with him.

Warnings: Fluff, Unprotected Sex 18+

Relationships: Javier Peña x Reader

The bar was practically empty when Javier walked in, just the usual suspects there at this time in the afternoon. Si was busy polishing the glasses that had just come back from the kitchen, his back facing the bar as he places each one on the shelf once he’s done.

‘Be with you in a moment.’ He says over his shoulder as he finishes the last glass before turning to face Javi ‘What are you doing here Peña?’

‘I came to talk.’ He states, hands stuffed in his pockets as he steps gingerly towards the bar.

‘Well, I don’t want to talk. She chose you. End of.’

‘Actually, she threw me out just after you left.’ Admits Javier as he sits himself down on one of the barstools.

‘Is that right?’

‘Look Si. What happened last night was completely unplanned.’ Starts the agent as he scrubs a hand over his tired face ‘The babies kicked for the first time and we got caught up in the moment.’

‘Do you love her?’

‘What?’ His tone comes out a little shorter than he means it to.

‘’Do you love her? Not that hard to understand.’

‘Yes.’ He states, not wanting to beat about the bush ‘It scares me how much. Seeing you and her together these past months has been killing me.’

‘Then go get her.’ Says Si as he shrugs his shoulders ‘I love her but we’ve been together five minutes in comparison to the time you spent with her.’ He pauses ‘You’re having twins together for fuck sakes. Yes, it sucked walking in on you fuckin’ her but I'd be an idiot if I didn’t think you two should at least try and make a go of it. For your kid's sake at least.’

‘Si I-.’

‘If you wanna say sorry then fine, I forgive you but for Christ’s sake Javier. Go and get her or I will!’ Groans Si as he points at the closed door.

‘How are you such a Saint all the time?’ He chuckled and Si shrugged again.

‘My momma raised me right I guess.’

‘That she did.’ Javier replies as he stands from his stool and leaves.

You sit there nursing your tea as you stare at the flowers on your coffee table, the turmoil within eating you alive as you remember the look on Si’s face when he saw you tangled with Javier. Taking a sip you scrunch your face up in disgust when you learn that it's tepid now, you’d not realised how long you’d been staring for. The door opening catches your attention and you look up to see Javier walking in, a look of determination on his face that you’ve never seen before.

‘Javi I don’t-.’

‘Just let me speak.’ He interrupts, raising his hand to stop you ‘I went to see Si.’

‘JAVI.’

‘Just listen dammit.’ He groans, raising his voice a little ‘I went to explain. Tell him that we hadn’t planned it. That it had just been us getting caught up in the moment. I swear that guy is a Saint because he fucking forgave us. He was hurt, understandably so, but he also told me that I should go get you. That he would be a fool to get in the way of us giving it a go.’

‘Javier.’

‘But I realised something.’ He continues ‘I don't want to give it a go with you.’

‘No?’

‘No.’ He confirms and your heart sinks ‘I want it all with you. I want to raise our babies with you. I want to make more with you. I want to call you my wife.’

‘Javi-.’

Javier pulled out a box from his pocket before slowly lowering himself to one knee, his eyes never leaving yours as tears start to form in his eyes.

‘Hermosa, I am completely and irrevocably in love with you. You own me body and soul and it has even agony these last few months not being able to hold you, kiss you, make love to you.' He pauses, taking in a shaky breath "Please end my pain and marry me.’ He finishes as the box creaks open to reveal a simple, yet spectacular, diamond engagement ring.’

Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as you gasp in shock, tears spilling down your cheeks as your shoulders shake. The longer you don’t answer the more nervous Javier becomes, his heart in his throat as he remains on his knee awaiting your answer.

‘Baby, please. Say something.’

‘Yes.’ You manage to choke out before covering your mouth again in an attempt to muffle your sobs.

Peña’s on his feet in a flash, scooping you into his arms before kissing you deeply as he slips the ring on your finger.

‘When the hell did you buy a ring?’

‘Not important.’ He chuckles before kissing you again, this time with a hunger that goes straight to your core.

You clumsily pull each other's clothes off as he backs you towards the bedroom, both of you naked as the day you were born by the time the backs of your knees hit the mattress. You fall back, giggling as he grabs you by the waist and pushes you further up before positioning himself between your thighs. Two thick fingers plunge into your heat and you yell as he curls them deliciously, pumping them in and out relentlessly.

‘Fuck Javi.’ You whine, throwing your head back as you practically growl from the stimulation his fingers were giving you ‘FUCK.’

He says nothing, just grins as you dig your heels into the mattress, feeling yourself barrelling towards your orgasm and you know it's going to be intense. He increases his pace, fingers hitting that spot over and over and over. Your toes curl as you cum, your release gushing over his hand and the sheets but you don’t have a chance to recover before he’s sheathing himself inside of you.

‘FUCK’ You scream again as he pounds into you, your moans swallowed by his mouth as he devouring yours.

Your nails dig into the muscles in his shoulders, so deep that it’s bound to leave marks but you don't care and neither does he, he wants you to mark him. Claim him. He’s yours and you are his. He changes his angle and it’s devastating, the coil within tightening at an alarming rate and you bear your neck to him as you scream his name.

‘Cum for me.’ He coos, his eyes black with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him.

As if on command you do, your walls clamping down on his length and pulling him right along with you. He collapses on the bed beside you, chest heaving as he turns his head to look at you with a blissed-out expression.

‘I love you.’ He says softly as he rolls onto his side, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he grins at you like a lovesick teenager.

‘I love you too.’ You reply as you smile at him ‘That was also quite something.’

‘Yes.’ He says, letting out a breathy chuckle ‘Yes it was.’

‘Make the most of fucking me like that whilst you can.’

‘Hmmm?’

‘Because soon, this is going to get in the way.’ You finish as you rub your swollen womb.

‘Well if that's the case then I think we better make the most of it again.’ He grins as he pulls you into a bruising kiss, already hard for you again.

‘Congratulations to you both.’ Says Chucho as he raises his beer bottle in cheers.

The bar copies the man's actions, cheering loudly and you gaze at Javi who is looking down at you with his big brown eyes, eyes crinkling in the corners. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulls you into a sloppy kiss that makes you swoon.

‘Congratulations guys.’ Comes a familiar voice and you both look up to see Si stood across from the two of you, a genuine smile filling his features ‘I’m really happy for you both.’

‘Thank you, brother.’ Replies Javier as he shakes Si’s hand before moving for you to accept Si’s hug.

‘Thank you, Si.’ You say sweetly ‘For everything and I’m sorry for you know?… For what happened between us.’

‘Water under the bridge beautiful.’ He replies ‘It was fun while it lasted.’ He finishes as he gives you a nudge and a wink.

‘That it was.’ You agree as you chuckle.

‘Well well well if it isn’t tweedle dum and tweedle dee.’ Comes a voice you'd never expected to head.

‘MURPHY?’ You yell as you run into his arms, squealing with excitement as he laughs at your reaction ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Chucho rang he.’ He states as he slaps Javier on the arm ‘Couldn't miss my partner’s engagement party now could I?'

‘I never thought I’d see the day Javier Peña would settle down.’ Comes another voice and you look up to see Connie grinning at you ‘Definitely never thought he'd be having a baby.’ She finishes as she pulls you into a sideways hug.

‘Actually, it's babies.’ Javier corrects and both Murphy’s look between you in shock.

‘Your not?’ She asks with her mouth agape and you both nod.

‘Twins?’ Steve explains and you share a loving look at Javier before nodding again ‘Well shut the front door, that's fucking wonderful!’

‘Do you know?…’ Connie trains off, grinning at you.

‘Girl and a boy.’ You answer.

‘Jackpot.’

You laugh at Steves remark as you let your head fall against Javi’s shoulder, humming in delight when he gives your hip a small squeeze.

‘You…’ Connie points at you ‘Need to tell me everything. You two.’ She motions between Steve and Javier ‘Stay out of trouble.’

She drags you to an empty booth, hugging you again before sipping her drink and slouching back against the faux leather back of the bench.

‘Sooooo?’ She starts ‘How the hell did this all happen?’

‘Well, this.’ You point at your bump ‘Happened the night before Javier left Columbia.’ You clarify and she grins at you ‘Us. Well, let's just say a lot has happened in the last 5 months.’

‘Like?’

‘I met Si.’ You point at him and Connie looks at you with piqued interest ‘We dated for a few months. Was pretty incredible and I loved him but I wasn't in love with him. It took Javier almost drowning for me to realise that I can't live without him.’

‘Wait what?’ Connie interrupts, her expression changing to one of shock ‘He almost drowned?’

‘Yeah, he uh…’ You pause, taking a sip of your own beverage ‘He saw Si and me fucking on the couch. He’d popped round to show me some baby grows he’d bought and saw us through the window.’ You shiver as the memory of him falling assaults your eyes ‘He got smashed and decided to try and fix the pier down at the end of Chucho’s land. Lost his footing on the rotten wood when I called out to him and he fell. His dad and I managed to drag him out of the river and I gave him CPR. I managed to revive him but I almost didn’t. It broke me.’

‘So how did you end up together?’

‘Well, I’m not exactly proud of it.’ You start, giving her a guilty look ‘We uh… Well, basically the babies started kicking when he’d come round with some food. It was beautiful and we got caught up in the moment. One thing led to another and… Well, let's just say Si walked in on us.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah.’ You reply ‘He was surprisingly good about it though. Eventually. We deserved hell but instead, he gave us his blessing. He told Javier to go get me and Javier decided to take it one step further.’ You finished as you grinned at her before letting your eyes flit down to the engagement ring on your finger.

‘Boy did good!’ Connie exclaims when she spots the ring ‘Well done Javi.’ She finishes and you chuckle, gossiping well into the night.

Chapter 8

#javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña #narcos fanfiction x reader #narcos fanfiction x you #narcos fanfic #narcos #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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starlocked01 · 3 years

Text

The Black Coffee Widower

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 3- Coffee Shop

WC: 4.2K

Summary: Virgil works the late-night shift at the local coffee shop. That's where he poisons and picks up his victims. He wasn't ready for the one who didn't fight back.

Content Warnings (there's a lot today): Serial Killer/Coffee Shop AU Unsympathetic Virgil, Poisoning, Kidnapping, Swearing, Gun Violence, Negative Self-talk, Self Hatred, Murder and Attempted Murder, Implied Sexual content. Sexual innuendo, referenced rape, referenced mutilation, Strangulation, Hospitals, Police

@dukexietyweek

The simple fact was that they glowed. Virgil had long ago given up on trying to explain it to himself; they just glowed when he saw them. It was like a premonition- a beautiful soft light that needed to be contained lest it sullied the rest of the world by leaving it dim and grungy in comparison.

Virgil was grungy. He knew very well he didn't and would never glow as they did. Maybe that was the reason why. Maybe if he ever had to tell someone why he did it, he'd tell them that.

He killed them because they glowed and no one should be able to glow.

However, he'd never cared all that much about the whys. The hows were so much more fun. How did he pick his victims? Easy. They glowed and walked in at the wrong time. How did a weak, little, pathetic loser subdue the perfect glowing people? Bitter coffee was a perfect cover for bitter poisons. How did he end their lives? Any way he pleased.

How did he avoid detection? A healthy dose of anxiety kept him careful. Too many of the brightest glowing people escaped because they'd be missed. He never went by his legal name anywhere. He stayed patient and alert. He was the nobody that no one could ever remember. Playing barista sucked but it was the perfect cover. No one ever suspected the sulky, little, dimwitted worker stuck on the insomniacs shift at the quiet little 24-hour cafe. And no one ever really noticed if the store's hours were a bit unpredictable between 2 am and 4 am. That was the best time for hunting; it worked and Virgil wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

---

Virgil knelt, his latest catch already unconscious and tied up behind the counter when the doorbell chimed. Cursing at himself for forgetting to lock the door, Virgil grabbed a refill pack of napkins and stood cautiously. He gasped, finding the man who had entered shone twice as brightly as the woman he already had tied up. Certain that Miss Double-Soy-Latte-with-Hazelnut-Syrup-and-Whipped-Cream-you-got-that-Sugar? wasn't about to wake up and cause a scene, Virgil watched the man as he studied the menu.

The first thing he would do is take the man’s studded wrist gauntlet and fishnet fingerless gloves. Those things couldn't belong to someone who glows. Virgil squinted and could just make out a loosely looped studded belt to match, hanging off the man’s hip and exposing his lack of undergarments. Virgil hungrily followed the curve of that hip with his eyes up to the man's stomach peeking out underneath the ragged edge of a homemade cropped band t-shirt. He wanted to punch that stomach, to feel what it was like when the man tensed and when he stayed soft in compliance.

Next, he stared at shapely arms crossed in front of the man's chest. Those arms looked strong as a vice and he wondered how much effort it would take to break those delicate bones to render the muscles useless. Would he break first?

The man wore a sleeveless leather vest, displaying a museum's worth of inkwork, tentacles and snakes, and other writhing forms accented periodically with teeth and eyes and fangs and beaks. A rendition of the Harry Potter Death Eater mark set into the shoulder and tattooed thorns circled his neck. Virgil found himself getting hot under the collar and decided two in one night would be a fun challenge.

It was hard to see the man’s face until he flashed Virgil a brilliantly blinding smile as if on cue. The smile was all the sign Virgil needed to know this man would die tonight. He was practically begging Virgil to save him from the light radiating from his face. His gorgeous, handsome, wild-eyed face.

Virgil wanted so badly to touch the messy, overdue 5 o'clock shadow, to feel the scars left by razor nicks and frequent skin irritation. He wanted to wipe away the heavy eyeliner and mascara, run dirty fingers through greasy, dyed hair. He wanted those eyes to see him for who he is so he could spare them the pain of hoping there had been another ending once he'd entered the shop.

If the stranger was uncomfortable with his intense gaze, he certainly didn't show it as he approached the counter. Virgil squirmed as a cacophony of overlapping mismatched beats of a second hand overwhelmed his entire sense of hearing. Looking down, he quickly spotted a wristwatch on the unconscious woman's wrist and stepped on it to deaden the maddening sound. Soon all he could hear was the new customer's watch ticking erratically as though it needed to be wound up.

"Heya, kitten! Like what you see, baby?" the man smirked at Virgil as he leaned down on the counter and made sultry suggestive eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" Virgil hissed, recoiling from the familiarity.

"Woah, kitty's got claws huh?" the man giggled. Virgil stiffened, well aware how close the man could come to looking down and spotting the woman. And if he attempted to turn him in it wouldn't end pretty. He didn't want to have to clean up the shop after a struggle before having his fun.

"What are you ordering?" Virgil asked tersely.

"Me-ow. Guess you don't swing my way- darn. I bet you've got a totally bodacious booty too," the man batted his eyelashes at Virgil.

"That isn't on the menu. Order or get lost, yeah?" Virgil growled, trying to seem as disinterested in the enticing man as he could manage.

"Right. Seven shots of espresso, a shot of creamer, and a shot of the pineapple ginger concentrate, s'il vous plait," the man listed off as though he'd ordered the same thing a hundred times.

Virgil froze, unsure how to ring up the disgusting concoction, "what the hell? What kind of drink is that?"

"It's like me. One of a kind," the man beamed, brushing bleached silver hair out of his eyes, "can you handle that, kitty kat?"

"Stop with the pet names," Virgil rolled his eyes and finished inputting the drink, "um.. that will be… $6.69."

"Eyo! Sixty niiiiiiine," the man giggled emphatically while pulling out his money to pay.

Virgil rolled his eyes, "childish. Name for the order?"

"Uh, your phone number."

"What?"

"Damn you don't take hints!" the man placed one hand on his chest and bowed with a flourish, "my name is Remus, and I think you're very cute, kitty kat."

"You are maddening! Just call me Virgil!" he snapped, getting a cup ready to prepare the last drink Remus would ever have, "it's gonna take a minute to pull all those shots. Gosh… that much caffeine could kill you…" Virgil smirked at his own joke.

Remus took the smirk for a friendly smile and grinned, "I got all night for you, Virgil."

"That's cute. I'll let you know when it's ready," Virgil smiled, making direct eye contact as he added his favorite blend of sedatives to Remus’s cup.

It only took 30 seconds before Remus hit the floor with a confused grunt. Virgil was almost impressed the man had downed half the drink in one gulp. Moving quickly, Virgil locked the shop and dragged Remus back behind the counter, binding and gagging the flirtatious idiot. Tonight was going to be so special.

---

It hadn’t been easy, moving both bodies- cursing his weak, pathetic self the entire time. He made sure to dose both of them again after stashing them in the trunk so he could go back and finish out his shift.

He smiled pleasantly at the officers who stopped by just before the morning shift, careful to not give them any reason to be suspicious as he packed up day-old donuts and prepared two drinks nearly as caffeinated as Remus’s drink had been but significantly less poisoned. But still a little poisoned because fuck the police.

It took every muscle in Virgil’s body to not run gleefully to the car when the morning shift came to relieve him from work. He hid his excitement behind his usual persona of snarky disinterest and exhaustion until he was safely in the car and blasting his favorite CD on the drive home.

Pulling directly into the garage, Virgil shut down the car and giggled as the door shut slowly on his prisoners' last hope for rescue. Working at a leisurely pace, Virgil dragged first Remus then the woman down into his basement, both drowsy and barely able to make a complaint. It only seemed fair they die in the order they'd been caught so Virgil laid Remus out on the couch while he tied the woman down to his workbench.

The woman began to moan pathetically just as Virgil was tying down the last limb. It was not a moment too soon. He chuckled to himself and smacked her face a few times to help her wake up.

"Look alive, sunshine! You won't be much longer, I'm afraid," Virgil quipped as she blinked awake and started to panic at the restraints holding her down.

God, he hated when they screamed almost as much as he hated the watches. Virgil waited as long as he could stand the high-pitched whining pleas for freedom and help before loudly shushing until she quieted.

"Shh! Stop yelling or I will restrict your breathing," Virgil hissed, laying a prohibitive finger to her lips, "I promise you'll live longer if you stay quiet."

"You'll let me go?"

"No. I'll just take my time," Virgil smirked as the color drained from her face and her lip began to quiver, "ohh. Ohh, don't be so dramatic, sweetheart. It's time to grow up and realize death is inevitable."

Virgil laughed as she started screaming again, only turning away when Remus stirred from his sleep.

"Oh, dear. You've woken up my other guest. Now you know, he's special. You're going to have the life choked out of you, slowly but surely, but he gets to lose a lot more than his life. Count yourself lucky, sweetheart." Virgil turned to examine the man on the couch again as he blearily blinked up at him.

"You coulda'sked, kitkat," Remus mumbled nearly incomprehensibly. Virgil tilted his head in confusion as he watched Remus. The man slowly regained awareness, and even as Virgil stood above him with a hard frown, he smiled back up at his captor.

"What the hell are you getting on about?" Virgil asked with a growl, hoping to startle that unsettling grin off Remus’ face.

Remus laughed, "you coulda just asked if you wanted to do a scene, cutie! Although I love the attention to realism. Like you actually drugged me to bring me home!"

Virgil stared, completely in shock at what he was hearing, "wait.. you think…"

"That you were too shy to ask me out so you drugged me and dragged me back home? Yes," Remus nodded enthusiastically, "if you have some whips and an electric hand mixer we can have some real fun, you sexy little kitten!" Remus bumped his eyebrows suggestively, leaving Virgil absolutely stunned.

"What is going on here?!?" the woman on the table cried out.

"Shut the hell up!" Virgil barked back at her, too confused to do much more than stare at Remus. Why did he like this? Why did Virgil like that Remus liked this? He felt hot and confused but also certain about one thing he absolutely wanted.

Experimentally he reached down and laid his hand on Remus’ exposed stomach. Watching Remus for his reaction, Virgil slowly slid his hand along the skin and up to Remus’s chest. Remus shut his eyes with a smile and shivered at the touch, "oh yeah, baby. I can purr for you, kitty. Anything you want."

Virgil inhaled sharply, pulling back his hand and looking back at the other prisoner as she lay whimpering on the table.

Well shit, what was he supposed to do with a captive audience?

---

Virgil didn't know what he'd been thinking, letting Remus go after all was said and done. Remus had been fun and so down for all of his sickest fantasies, supplying quite a few of his own. He'd stolen Remus’ watch and put it on the woman's body before shooting both timepieces on her wrist. The ticking had probably driven him to let Remus go. That had to explain it

He dumped the woman as far as he possibly could and hoped beyond reason that Remus wouldn't recognize her in the news and realized what he'd done. For a week he lived in fear of the cops showing up at work or worse his house, armed with search warrants and one hell of a witness. For a week, nothing happened.

It turned out he'd worried for nothing. Just when Virgil began to itch again to get rid of another glowing being, despite the police pressure pushing him to lay low, Remus came back in during his shift.

"Hello, my little purrrfect kitten!" Remus beamed as he walked into the shop.

Virgil froze and slowly turned back to face him, "you- you came back?"

"Mhm. Never got your number but I wanted to see you again, Virgie. Figured we could have some more fun this time," Remus smirked as he leaned casually against the counter, "one usual with the special sauce please!"

"Special sauce?" Virgil asked, still amazed Remus had even come back to the cafe.

"You know," Remus leaned in close and whispered, "the stuff that knocks me out so you can take me home and we can get it on freakier than my last BDSM club"

"Wow, you- you liked it that much?" Virgil let out a low whistle. He studied Remus again, stricken by the fact he didn't glow so much this time. Even though Virgil wanted to take care of another glowing bastard, he was so much more interested in this willing abductee.

"Yeah, I did! That shit's hot as fuck!" Remus beamed. Virgil checked the time on his terminal display and realized it was nearly the time his least favorite police patrons would be making their morning run.

"Look, uh… why don't we save the tranqs for my place?" Virgil smirked as he started to prepare Remus’ strange order, "I'm amazed this drink doesn't put you in a coma already."

Remus giggled, "sometimes it takes a little something extra to get the heart pumping, yeah?"

"Hm. Well, I get off in two hours-"

"I'll be sitting right here in the corner then. I wanna get to know you, Virgie."

"A horrible mistake for you, really," Virgil laughed, heart fluttering far too much.

"Plus I think I left my watch at your place…"

"I haven't seen it this week. We can look though," Virgil lied smoothly, knowing very well the police had the timepiece in evidence.

Remus kept flirting as Virgil cleaned the store and served the early morning crowd, true to his word about waiting to leave with Virgil. They walked out to his car and Remus held out his arm expectantly when they sat down.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"You're off the clock, let's get this party started. Surely you have the special stuff in here- you injected me last time."

Virgil flushed, "um.. really? You don't want to wait to know where we're going first?"

"How am I supposed to pretend I'm getting kidnapped if you don't knock me out? At least tie my hands?" Remus bat his eyes at Virgil who rolled his eyes and leaned over to grab a scarf out of the glove box.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah but you like it, kitten."

---

Logan stared at the evidence bored, absolutely baffled. In 5 months there had been 18 victims, a consistent signature, and every promise that someone would turn up with a connection to this perp. Or someone should know where these folks had been headed when they fell into the unsub's trap.

And then after Lydia with the two watches- nothing. No bodies were found for weeks. No whisperings of the media-named Black Widower who aggressively mutilated his male victims almost beyond recognition after raping them and humiliated the women after strangling them with silk scarves.

"I just don’t understand. Guys like this don’t go dormant! It's against every drive they have. What are we missing, Patton?"

Patton looked up from his third cup of coffee, "I don't know, Lo. What about the two-unsub theory? Maybe they met up and are keeping each other occupied?"

Logan rolled his eyes, "oh sure. Two serial killers, one who's gay and one who hates women meet and start playing house. Real cute."

"It could happen…" Patton replied defensively, already reaching for a second donut as his partner glared disapprovingly.

"No. I think it's the same unsub. The watches are always shot while the victim wears them. It's consistent. It's a single, unique signature that the media still hasn't published. If it's two different killers, they knew about each other and were purposefully copying each other long before they went dormant."

"Well, I'm not going to complain that we aren't finding more victims. I'd rather people not be mysteriously killed and maimed by the Black Widower...s," Patton lifted his chin defiantly. He stood and walked over to the evidence board, studying the geographic profile again, the map showing a confusing cluster of dumpsites, victim's homes, and last sightings, and puzzled over the strangeness of the case.

"If this case goes cold, we may never find the unsub. He lives his life, free to decide to start again while all of his victims lay rotting in the ground. Their families don't deserve to live with that fear," Logan sighed heavily in near defeat, "of course I don’t want more victims. I want this man caught. Why did he suddenly stop?"

---

For a month, Remus had come in once or twice a week, asking Virgil for the secret sauce and flirting with him until the end of his shift. The randomness of his timing and anticipation of his visits made it impossible for Virgil to hunt. He didn't quite mind because seeing Remus was always better than the thrill of the kill.

Virgil finally relented and watched with quiet admiration as Remus celebrated over getting his number, and their relationship only moved faster after that. Pretty soon Remus was able to convince him to go on an actual date after work, grabbing breakfast at a nearby diner and hitting up his apartment afterward. Virgil had rarely spent so long away from his own home, but being out with Remus made him feel almost normal.

Media slowly stopped covering the Black Widower and Virgil smiled to himself just imagining how frustrated the police must be that they couldn't find him.

Virgil was happy, laying next to his boyfriend who loved him despite almost every eccentricity. He almost believed nothing could go wrong with Remus there.

"Uh, kit kat? I have a bit of a confession to make," Virgil winced, cursing himself for being so naive to believe that foolish sentiment.

"What’s up, dukey?" Virgil rolled to his side to face his boyfriend, "you can tell me anything."

"I don't- promise you won't get mad or like.. react badly?" Remus asked quietly, alarming Virgil even more.

He gently laid a hand on Remus’ neck and rubbed that roughened cheek with his thumb, "what's going on, Rem? You're scaring me."

Remus visibly gulped and whispered, "I know what happened to my watch. Virgil, I've always known.."

Virgil pulled back slowly. So this is what it actually felt like to be caught. His heart hammered in his throat, making a verbal reply impossible. He strained to not start crushing Remus’ throat and his own heart in his panic. This was love and this was a threat and god the way Remus looked at him right now only complicated everything else so much more.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't wriggling away from Virgil’s touch. Remus stared death in the eye unflinchingly.

He'd always figured his boyfriend must be brave or stupid, but Virgil hadn't counted on both.

"I know… what you are… and I still fell in love with you, Virgil. If you're gonna… could you at least drug me first and let me kiss you with my last breath?"

Very quickly several pieces fell into place as Virgil stared at the man who loved him despite every flaw and couldn't even beg for his own safety or life.

Remus knew what happened the night they met.

Remus had made the connections to the other murders and the subsequent drought of victims.

Remus could have turned him in- directly to the officers at the shop a half dozen times and a hundred other times when they weren’t spending time together.

Remus loved him.

Remus loved him and was scared of this confrontation.

Remus was not scared of dying.

Killing his boyfriend would be the exact link the cops would need to capture him.

Not killing his boyfriend for knowing his secret would be the largest risk imaginable.

Virgil couldn’t live without Remus

His hand was slowly choking Remus out despite his reluctance to take action.

Virgil gasped and pushed Remus away roughly, darting out of the bed and down the hall. He didn't stop until he heard Remus calling out for him.

Shit.

"Virgil!" his voice came out hoarse and painfully weak sounding. Virgil knew he should run.

But Remus was calling for him. And this was his fault.

"Virgil?" it was a question, asked in a voice that couldn't get enough air to support itself. He could leave and Remus would probably die a very painful death, all alone, with his fingers and palm emblazoned in the bruising that would provide the cause of death.

Remus loved him. He couldn't let this be the end.

Virgil flew back into the bedroom, grabbed the landline, and made the call.

"Remus, I am so sorry. Just keep breathing, baby. I am so so sorry!" Virgil apologized profusely, waiting for the emergency operator to pick up.

---

Hospital staff had to pry Virgil from Remus’ side as they moved him quickly into the O.R. Virgil paced and wondered how exactly to explain Remus’s injuries without getting arrested to distract himself from the fear that Remus would die in surgery.

He should have never let himself get so close to someone so smart and funny and perfect and… glowing. Virgil sat and waited for the doctor's verdict, pulling his hood over his eyes to block out the throngs of injured, sick, frantically glowing people around him.

Ages passed until Virgil heard his name and looked up suddenly for the source. A doctor and a police officer stood before him and all of the adrenaline in his body screamed that he needed to run.

"Uh.. how is he, doc?" Virgil asked, fighting himself to not scream or make a scene.

"Remus Crowne is currently in recovery and you may visit him. Due to the nature of his injuries, we have contacted the police to speak with him first," the doctor intoned, voice dripping with suspicion.

The officer took the pause to speak up, "would you like to make a statement, Mr. Kier?"

"I just want to see him," Virgil replied in a raspy voice, shaking his head in denial as he stood.

"Very well. This way, sir," the doctor led Virgil and the officer back towards the recovery rooms. When they arrived, Virgil nearly choked seeing Remus talking with the same two officers who came into his shop each morning. The shorter one knelt beside the bed to hold Remus’ hand. He spoke softly and asked all the questions while his partner stood tall and took notes, looking incredulously at the injured man. Virgil instinctively wanted to barge in and protect Remus from these pigs but the third held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Before long the two officers left the room, eyeing Virgil disdainfully. He waited for the words that would send his world crashing around him even more than it already had.

"You- you can go in now, hon," Virgil's head tilted in confusion as the third officer let him go, "just be more careful in the future."

"I- what? No charges?" Virgil barely whispered, glancing towards the bed where Remus laid watching the tv.

"Believe me, if it had been me, I don’t care how consensual- I would have pressed charges for sending me to the E.R. have a good day, sir. Come along, Patton." The stricter-looking cop turned, gesturing to the kinder one and all three left quickly. Virgil beamed and ran to Remus’ side.

"You're welcome, kitten," Remus coughed and reached for Virgil’s hand.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't want to, Rem-"

"Shhhh. I told them it was a sex fantasy gone a bit too far. If I'd known you liked strangling dudes too-"

"Now you shush!" Virgil leaned in close, "you get better fast now, okay?"

"I always wanted to date a serial killer.. promise you won't leave me over this?" Remus grinned weakly up at Virgil, "I could help you, ya know."

"Shhhh this is just the pain meds talking. You don’t know a serial killer," Virgil laughed as tears of relief streamed down his cheeks. He gave Remus a dramatic stage wink and held his hand securely.

"Aww, you're right. I'm just stuck with a pretty boy who doesn't know his own strength," Remus grinned and watched Virgil rather than the tv until a nurse came to shoo his boyfriend away for the night.

Remus couldn't wait for their first hunt together.

#dukexietyweek2021 #dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #serial killer au #coffee shop au #please please please mind the content warning #please remember that reblogs help more than likes ^ ^#shit i'm like 10 minutes late nooooo

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

The door to the bathroom slammed behind Yixing as he plastered his back against the cinderblock wall. The bathroom was empty, thank goodness. His heart was pounding, beating in rhythm to the pawing of the wolf. It growled at him to go back, to find you and claim you. He fought against it. Barely.

All this time you had been here, on this campus, and he never even knew it. How many times had he come close to almost running into you? Almost had a class with you? How many times had he walked into the student union or a lab or any other classroom and missed you by mere seconds? Having met you now, under these circumstances – it almost felt like Fate was taunting him.

Sliding down to the floor, Yixing let his head fall back against the paint-flaking stone. A small smirk tugged at his mouth. He’d found you. Like a flower blooming for the first time… you were beautiful. Your smiles had been small but stunning. When your hair fell like a waterfall hiding your face, his fingers twitched to push it behind your ear. Yixing had found girls pretty before, but you – you were fascinating. Like seeing a close up picture of a new planet a million lightyears away for the first time. As quiet as you were, he was determined to flip over the stones and discover what lied underneath.

Elation soon gave way to worry, though. Now that the first step was done, he had to proceed with caution. He didn’t want to scare you off or come on too strong. Knowing himself, he could get too excited and push you too far before you were ready.

And then there were the headaches. And the lost time. He needed to find the cause of it. He needed to understand what was happening to him. Because the last thing he would want is to hurt you.

Pushing himself back up to his feet, he went over to the sink and turn the cold water on blast. He cupped some of the water in his palm and cooled off heat radiating from his neck. Icy droplets rolled down his back and over his shoulders. It helped, sparingly. He gave a single glance in the mirror before turning off the water and walking out of the bathroom.

He knew that going to his next class would be a useless action. Paying attention was out of the question. There were ways that he could catch up in his spare time. Right now, he needed to be in a place where he was both surrounded by people (to keep himself in check), and yet alone for his thoughts. So, he headed for the student union. The buzzing of a hundred conversations hit him as soon as he stepped through the doors. None of them were clear, too intermixed to be deciphered. Perfect. Now he just need to find an empty table in a corner and-

“Hey, Yixing!”

Yixing blinked, searching around for the one who had called his name.

Baekhyun was standing up in his seat, waving an arm back and forth to get Yixing’s attention. The latter sighed. Maybe this was better. Maybe being alone wasn’t a good idea after all.

Sitting with Baekyun was Chanyeol, Jongin, Sehun, and Kyungsoo. Jongdae, Yixing knew, was in class. However, Minseok was usually with them. He must have been somewhere off with his mate. A quick surge of jealous struck through Yixing’s veins, but he tampered it down quickly. Soon enough he would be there, too. Soon enough.

Careful to keep his face as neutral as his facial muscles would allow, Yixing headed over to the others, dragging a free chair over from a nearby table.

“Playing hooky?” Baekhyun teased.

“Just didn’t feel like going to class.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Nor the complete truth. The statement fell somewhere in the middle. Like most things he said these days.

“Are you sweating, hyung?” Sehun asked from the other side of the table.

Chanyeol sniffed several times. “You still smell like your body wash. Is everything okay?”

Jongin pointed at him. “Your collar’s wet.”

Yixing shifted in his seat. Was it too early to tell them? Was it news that he should share with Junmyeon first? He knew he would end up going to Minseok at some point. Who better to go with for advice than the one person who’s lived through it already? Maybe even Ji Yeon might have a few words of wisdom for him. All five of his brothers were staring at him, waiting for an explanation, fictitious or otherwise, for this out-of-character behavior.

“She’s in my new class.”

“Who is?” Chanyeol asked.

Yixing didn’t reply right away. The words were sticking to the tip of his tongue like fly paper. Maybe he should just say “never mind” and go on with his day. This wasn’t the right setting to share this information. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have waited until he got back to the farmhouse. He should have discussed this with Junmyeon and Minseok first. As much as he loved Baekhyun, he had a feeling this news would get back to the rest of the pack before he had a chance to tell them himself. Would Jongdae start to avoid him, too?

Before he had a chance to backtrack, Kyungsoo caught on. “Ah. You mean, her, don’t you?”

Yixing swallowed, the muscles in his throat contracting, making the motion difficult. Slowly, almost like a fishing bobber in the water, he nodded.

Letting out an exasperated scoff, Baekhyun hunched down in his seat. “This feels way too fast. I thought we would have time after Minseok until the next one.” He straightened up before leaning in close to Yixing. “Are you sure it’s your mate? Are you sure you just don’t think she’s really pretty?”

Yixing shook his head. “Minseok is right. The feeling is different. And immediate. It’s her.”

“Well, better you than me.”

“But think of the nice excuse it would give you to break up with Daisy?” Chanyeol teased.

“Who said I wanted to break up with her?”

“You did,” Kyungsoo deadpanned. “Last night.”

Baekhyun feigned being taken aback. “W-well, that was last night. I changed my mind. This morning.”

“I hope your mate gives you hell,”Jongin laughed. He turned to Yixing. “Is she pretty?”

Yixing didn’t dare fight the grin spreading across his face. He nodded eagerly. “Yes. Very. Very pretty.”

“So, you gonna tell Junmyeon?” Baekhyun asked.

“Of course. I will tonight. Back at the house.”

“At least we’ll get to see this play out more. I feel like we missed the good stuff with Minseok.”

“It’s not a movie for your entertainment,” Kyungsoo scolded.

Baekhyun simply shrugged, turning his attention back to the food in front of him. He’d gotten his teasing out of the way. Oddly enough, Yixing was feeling a little lighter. He hadn’t kept the secret long at all, but that was what a pack was for. They were there to keep you steady and to lean on when things grew tough. He could go to them for advice – well, some of them. Others were good for a laugh and help ease any weight that was baring him down. Each member had his strength, for which he was grateful. Three additional faces appeared, stopping him for a moment. But then Baekhyun started imitated one of his professors and Yixing was pulled away from the past and back to the present.

However, even as he smiled and laughed along with the others, one thing refused to leave him: Would you be safe? With his current… predicament, he worried about you. If anything were to happen to you – especially because of him – he would never be able to forgive himself.

Silently, he vowed that he would put an end to this rogue wolf – no matter who it was.

Perhaps walking wasn’t the best idea at the moment. It was chillier today; a cold front having moved in from somewhere out west overnight. The jacket you wore was thin, the wind sliding through the threads with more ease than water through a drain. But it seemed silly to take the bus with such a short distance between your apartment and the university campus. Certainly not worth the anxiety it would create.

Yes. It was good to walk. Good to get the exercise. And by the time you make it to the courtyard, you would be used to the cold. For now, you zipped the closure up to your chin and tucked your arms in as close to your chest as possible.

The campus felt like a ghost town when you arrived. Most of the students were taking refuge in the buildings, hiding from the wind between the walls decorated with tutoring flyers and motivational posters. Part of you thought to maybe do the same, to cut through the buildings to get a relief from the depressing weather, but that would take you longer. None of the buildings were straight shots. You could endure it. Or else, you could end up as another frozen statue on the grounds that would occasionally get covered in toilet paper or streamers by pranking students. At least you would actually look like something if that were to happen. Most of the artwork was of the abstract kind.

Not that that was a bad thing. Most of it was quite interesting. But it gave you a headache, turning and twisting your head to look at the statue from a new angle, the picture changing each time. You preferred less complicated, more obvious art. Old portraits or watercolor landscapes were the sections of the art museum you spent the majority of your time in. It didn’t need to be complicated to be art, in your opinion. Every new artist was trying to “say something”, which was fine. It was their art and they were allowed to do with it as they saw fit. You were just the kind of boring person who liked a pretty picture, no added thinking required.

Yes. Boring, indeed.

“(y/n)!”

You stopped walking, confused as to who could be calling your name. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the new boy from your human physiology class – Yixing. He was jogging up to you, cutting through the grass, not caring if the canvas fabric of his Converse ended up soaked. He was huffing only the slightest bit when he came to a stop beside you. The tiny corners of his lips were slightly turned upward. You’d only met him a few days ago. How could he be seemingly elated to see you?

“Hi.”

He wasn’t the least bit discouraged by your steely reception. “Are you on your way to class?” He pointed in the direction of the science building. You nodded. Lying would make you have to take a weird, long way to the classroom and even then, you couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t see you in the hall. Besides, after your first class you would be seeing him again, at the same table. “Can I walk with you?”

Those five little words sent a surge through your brain, frying the motherboard and sending you into disfunction. Why did he want to walk with you? Pound, pound, pound your heart was going in your ears. He was smiling broader now as he waited for your answer. Surely, there were better available options in girls to walk to class.

“Why?”

Your hand nearly snapped up to your forehead. Where! ‘Where is your class’ was the question you were meaning to ask. But your brain was too focused on why he was asking you that the signals got crossed somewhere and the wrong thing came out.

The smile faded. “Oh, um… I just saw you and thought that maybe if we were headed in the same direction….” He cringed, his hand reaching behind his head to scratch nervously at his scalp.

“Sure,” you said without giving yourself a prior warning.

The smile snapped back into place. “Okay. Great.”

Neither of you moved. You were sure that part of the idea of “walking to class together” included actually moving your feet, but you didn’t start heading towards the building. Yixing didn’t budge either. He kept smiling at you.

A sudden burst of icy wind picked up. The gust bit right through your jacket, causing you to shiver somewhat violently. Your teeth were still chattering even as it died down again.

“Are you cold?” Yixing asked worriedly.

“No, I’m fi-”

He ignored you as he slipped his bag off his shoulders and removed his much heavier bomber jacket. He draped the jacket over your shoulders and replaced his bag. Now he was left in only a black T-shirt, but he seemed unaffected by the cold. Not even goosebumps gave away if he was uncomfortable or not. “I hope that’s better.”

You were hit with an overwhelming pine scent. Normally you hated the smell. It reminded you of those old car air fresheners that would hang from the rearview mirror. But this particular type… it was a struggle not to breathe in deeper. You didn’t want to come off as weird.

Or, weirder that you already were.

“Thanks,” you said shyly, unable to meet his eye. “We, um, we should probably start… walking.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.”

The two of you finally headed for the science building. You each stepped in rhythm with the other, falling into the pattern with such a natural ease that it made you curious. Your nerves were on high alert around him, but not in a way that made you scared of him. Not the “he’s going to kill me” kind of nervous. Just… on edge. You weren’t sure why he was interested in you – whether platonically or something else, you hadn’t figured out yet. You weren’t the typical college student in your experiences. Anxiety over social gatherings tended to limit your outings. Not that you minded. You needed to keep up the good grades to get into the university you wanted and the extra time spent studying helped. Your family was your main social outlet, but you didn’t see anything wrong with that.

The bad thing was, you knew how your family reacted and came to decisions in most cases. That sense of familiarity was lost when it came to other people, so you never were quite sure how to read them.

“What’s your first class?” Yixing asked as the building came into view.

“Organic chemistry,” you replied. Not your best subject, if you had to admit it. Biology was more your strong suit. “What about you?”

Yes. Good counter question. A natural one to ask. Right?

A dusty pink bloomed on his cheeks. “Psychology.”

You frowned. Those classes weren’t held in the science building. Those types of classes were the rest of the therapeutic college – several buildings away. Pointing to the doors that the two of you were now stopped in front of, you said, “Then why-”

“I saw you and wanted to say hi.”

Okay, like stated earlier, you weren’t the best at reading strangers. But you could almost feel your aunt nudging you with her shoulder in her cheeky fashion. And you would have to agree with her, it did feel like there was an air of flirtation underneath the innocent sentence.

“You wanted to say ‘hi’?” you repeated

He scrunched up his shoulders guilty. “Yeah. I thought that – since we’re going to be partners for the rest of the semester – that it wouldn’t hurt to get to know each other?” His eyes flickered down to the cement and then back up at you. “Is that alright?”

That simple movement made your heart flutter. “I guess so.”

Not the exact answer he was hoping for, judging by his reaction. He released his breath through his nose and nodded, his lips puckering a small amount. “Okay. I’ll see you in class.” You weren’t given a chance to respond before he stepped around you and headed off.

Now you were the one who felt guilty.

All through class, you struggled to absorb the material more than usual. You felt like a jerk to someone who was only trying to be nice.

No. Nice wasn’t the right word to use. Polite seemed too small a word as well. His interest in getting to know you seemed genuine, sincere. You were the one quick to pull away. You couldn’t help it. And you had immediately regretted it, wishing you could rewind and try a different response. Yixing made you more nervous that usual, which only overloaded your brain even more.

By the end of class, you’d settled on apologizing. You’d practice the speech over and over again in your mind to make sure that it made sense and conveyed what you were sorry for. And hopefully didn’t create a bigger mess.

Since you were right around the corner, you made it to human physiology early. You took your time taking out your supplies and lined them up on your side of the table. Every few seconds your eyes would flicker to the door in eager anticipation. The students who flowed in were never him. Oh. Goodness. Had you made him so upset that he’d decided to skip class altogether rather than sit next to you?

That fear subsided when you saw him walk into view of the open door. A shorter boy was with him. They were chatting in a friendly manner in the hallway, smiling and laughing occasionally. Yixing didn’t seem to still be upset from your earlier send off.

The shorter one, wearing a backwards cap and t-shirt despite the cold (were males really that immune to dropping temperatures?), glanced into the classroom and made eye contact with you. He whispered something to Yixing, who in turn snuck a peek of his own. He nodded to the shorter boy. The latter nodded as well. He patted Yixing on the shoulder and then left.

Oh, wonderful. Now what had you done?

Your entire speech went diving out the window as Yixing walked into classroom and sat down in his seat.

“Hey,” he greeted, throwing you off even more with a smile.

You lifted your hand and gave a rather pathetic wave. “Hi.”

“Did you have fun in chemistry?” he asked. Everything about his mannerisms reflected his earlier legitimate interest. It was almost as if the parting earlier had only been a bad dream in your head and instead had ended amicably, with no signs of awkwardness.

You were starting to relax. That was another odd thing about Yixing. Though your nervous system was on the fritz, you also felt at ease, almost. Already, you were finding appropriate and - dare you say - charming responses to his inquires and jests. “As much fun as one can with unstable molecules.”

“Better the molecules be unstable rather than the professor.”

You laughed, using your hand to cover the sound and wide mouthed expression that came along with it. Yixing dipped his head to hide a proud grin of his own. The professor walked in at that moment. You scolded yourself for not going through your speech before class had started. Yixing had distracted you. It might feel as needed now, but you still felt the urge to say the words.

And that distraction was continuing on through the period.

He wasn’t doing anything in particular, besides simply existing. Occasionally while taking notes or flipping the pages of the textbook, his elbow would bump into yours. You would mouth “sorry” before dropping your eyes down to the paper. He never looked like he was annoyed or bothered by it. At one point, you wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

Like the last time, Professor Jiang assigned the review questions at the end of the chapter to be completed during the final fifteen minutes. It took you almost that entire time to figure out the answers. You had to keep flipping back through the chapter and skim the passages to find them. You were definitely going to have to make a note to review this later if any of it was going to stick.

“Are you done?” Yixing asked once he saw that your pencil was down.

“Yeah.” Your confidence in your answers wasn’t as high as last time. To your surprise, though, your answers were more or less the same as Yixing’s. Maybe something did get absorbed during the lecture.

Taking your paper, he shuffled it on top of his to show you that he would once again turn it in for you. A pattern was beginning to form, but you didn’t want to read into it too deeply.

Okay. It was now or never. Although, you’d forgotten large chunks of your speech, you were going to go through with it.

“Yixing?” You barely made it above a whisper, but he heard you anyway.

“Hm?”

“I just wanted to say that I was sorry. About earlier. I didn’t mean to make it look like I was trying to be rude or that I wasn’t appreciative of your….” You lost the word you were going to say. The others that you grasped on to made you cringe. Niceness? Politeness? Pity? Thankfully, Yixing didn’t need you to finish.

“It’s alright. I’m not upset. I realize that I might have come on too strongly.”

“No, no, you didn’t.”

“No, I’m sure I did. Next time, if you like walking alone, you can tell me to go away.”

You didn’t like the idea of telling him to go away. You actually kind of liked him walking you to class, now that you’d had time to reflect back on it. The gesture gave you the same vibe that teen romances had given you in high school; a strange fluttering that usually only existed in daydreams.

You weren’t sure how to respond, so you gave a silent reply in the form of a small smile. Yixing took it as a good sign like you meant it to be. Then you remembered the piece of clothing you still had of his. You started to sleep out of the sleeves, but Yixing stopped you.

“Keep it. It’s not going to get any warmer today.”

You could feel your face exploding with heat. What did that mean, exactly? Obviously, you understood the direct context, but was there another meaning behind his kind intention? Whispers erupted behind you before you could really think it through. You peeked over your shoulder to see two girls staring at you as they spoke softly to each other. Their volume was too low for you to make out what they were saying, but their eyes said enough. A few flickers toward Yixing and it was easy to interpret: they were trying to figure out why someone like him was acting this way towards you.

Curious as to what had stolen your attention, Yixing looked back at the girls as well. At their continued whispering, he narrowed his eyes and then shifted his stool closer to you. It felt… protective, almost possessive. Not in a way that made you want to lean away. It was more like he was silently standing up for you. The girls immediately snapped their mouths closed and pulled out their phones. Yixing caught your eye one more time, making you smile. Professor Jiang called time on the period and you found yourself very unwilling to move from that spot. And, it seemed, neither was Yixing.

Yixing ran through the trees with pure giddiness and elation flowing through his fur.

Things couldn’t have gone better this past week and a half. You were opening up to him more, talking to him without long pauses in between and letting him walk you to classes, even if they were in the opposite direction of his own. You hadn’t given him his jacket back, but he took that as a wonderful thing. He wouldn’t have taken it back anyway. There were still things that you were holding onto, things that you hadn’t let slip in your conversations. That hardly deterred him. It would take time. These things didn’t just happen. Eventually you would let him in all the way and he would show you his true self. It was only a matter of-

Yixing stopped. Out of nowhere, his vision had blurred, blackspots covering bits of the forest. He wavered from side to side as he tried to regain his footing. The tree shifted back and forth like a teeter-totter. He pushed himself forward. He needed to get back to the house. But only a few steps and his head exploded with pain. He whimpered and, after a minute or so, he fell to the ground and the blackness took over.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #exo x fem!reader #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo college au #exo college!au #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

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red1culous · 4 years

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Sweat part 1

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

One of the things you hated about working with the Avengers was how insanely fit everyone was. You wouldn’t exactly call yourself a shapeless potato but you were nowhere as sculpted or as svelte as your other team members.

You had just joined the band of heroes two months ago and were working under Maria Hill as a Shield agent. She had taken the time to show you around the place because you were one of the few applicants Fury himself recommended. Being new to the team you were eager to impress.

Maria herself was of slight build but you knew she was tough having one day crashed into her after turning a blind corner. Her elbow caught the side of your face as you both collided and it left you with a nasty shiner that lasted a week.

So you made it a point to become fitter and stronger. That meant visits to the gym. Your anxiety however got the better of you and visiting the gym when everyone else was there was certainly out of the question. So you purposely set your alarm for 2 hours earlier so you could get a full workout before anyone else was even awake.

The first time you entered the gym was daunting. All those big machines seemingly mocking your puny existence. You pushed past the fear and soon you were brave enough to play your music loud from your phone speakers and you started to relax a little and enjoy your early morning sessions more.

Then something you never could have dreamed of happened turning your world upside down.

After a 10 minute cardio warm up you headed to the chest press machine. You were feeling good this morning. Stretching and limbering up a little your playlist started on a new song, one that you particularly liked. It had all the right beats in all the right places. You soon got lost in the music and started to do a little dance on the spot as you stretched your arms and legs out . You were so caught up in the music you almost screamed when you felt a gentle tap tap tap on your shoulder. Turning around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash you were stunned by the sight in front of you.

Natasha Romanoff.

WTF.

“Hi. I’m Natasha. You ok?” she cocks her head concerned at your dazed expression.

“Hi! Sorry I just didn’t think there’d be anyone here. I’m Y/N” you hoped she hadn’t heard the enormous swallow you just did with how dry your throat suddenly became.

“Yea I know. Fury has said some impressive things about you. And that man says nothing about anyone so that’s a huge compliment” she smiled tying up her hair into a neat ponytail. Your eyes were inexplicably drawn to her biceps as they flexed and bunched up at the simple action.

“Uh ok” was all you could muster shaking your head trying to clear your mind.

“Sorry, do you mind if we share the gym? I promise to stay on that side” she points to the other end of the gym and you instantly felt like a monster.

“What no! No don’t do that. Sorry I just wasn’t expecting anyone here so early. Plus I’m not used to doing this whole gym thing” you ducked your head feeling a blush blooming across your chest and rising to your face.

“Oh you really don’t look like you even need the gym” she counters.

Wait. Was that a compliment?

She continues, “how about we spot for each other? I haven’t trained with another girl in ages. It’ll be nice since this place is usually a playground for the boys and their dick measuring contests”

And that’s how you found yourself working out with Natasha Romanoff, or Nat as she insisted you call her. This was insane. What was even more insane was the outfit she had on. She was wearing a black tank top that ended just under her breasts exposing her abs. All the abs. The way it twitched with every movement she made was even more distracting than her leg and calve muscles that were clearly visible under the ridiculously tight spandex pants she wore. If you knew you would be partnering with her you would’ve probably not worn your moth eaten college t-shirt and 100 year old track pants.

Right this moment she was stood in front of the chest press machine counting your sets. She was making light conversation and whenever you struggled she would assist slightly. Her words of encouragement did help a little. You were actually having fun.

“I like that you’re always smiling when you’re working out” she says in between counting you to 10.

“Nat, this isn’t me smiling” you pant out, “this is me gritting my teeth holding back my swear words” this got her laughing which caused you to laugh and drop the weights unable to hold them up yourself.

“Ok 10 more smartass let’s go” she straightens up wagging a finger at you.

If working out with the Black Widow was stressful, not knowing where to look with her standing right in front of you was worse.

Should you stare at her abs? No that’s awkward.

Stare at her face? Nope, worse idea ever.

Stare at the floor at her feet. Yes that might work.

“Up up! Keep your head and eyes up so your posture is straight” she tuts reaching for your chin and pushing it up.

Well that idea went to hell fast. Next up was the bench press machine.

She excitedly says she wants to go first and of course you’re not going to argue. Your arms were still burning from the 50 reps she had you do. So now you’re stood to her right looking everywhere except where she has lay down. Suddenly you don’t know what you’re supposed to do with your arms.

These appendages are they meant to hang loosely by your side?

Should I hug myself?

“Earth to Y/N. Hey quit dreaming and help me out here partner” she breaks you out of your reverie.

Did you think this was not going to get any more awkward? Seemed like the world was adamant on proving you wrong today.

Natasha has you standing with one leg on either side of her torso as she effortlessly lifts and lowers the bar. You’re assisting but you think she could do this without you and probably just as well with one arm. Still you can’t complain. When else would you ever find yourself in this position with Natasha Romanoff.

“Your turn” she cheerily says and she starts to get up. Sensing your hesitation she gently pushes you onto the machine taking the position you occupied only minutes ago.

“You didn’t even break a sweat, Nat” you pout.

“You’ll be fine I’ll help” she says more confident of your abilities than you are.

“I’ll break my neck more like. You better not let this…oooof” you grunt as you feel the full weight of the bar unable to finish your sentence.

“Ok trust me I’ll hold it too” she shimmies further up your torso and bends slightly so she can support more of the bar with you. This has her close to your face and somehow the bar feels heavier than before.

She went easy on you and let you off at 30 reps instead of 50 because towards the end of the count she was lifting more than you were. Your arms truly felt like jelly. Working out with Natasha would be the death of you no doubt.

“What do you want to do next rookie?” she says still looking the way she did when she walked into the gym that morning. You were pretty sure you looked like you had just walked to the moon and back.

“Is dying an option?” you say as you lay on the floor with a towel over your face having just completed a set of leg raises, push ups, crunches and Russian twists.

“How about some stretches? It’ll help with the aches” she lifts a corner of the towel covering your face and peeks at you as she smiles.

So now you are prone on the floor and the Black Widow is practically on top of you stretching out your hamstrings, quads and glutes.

“HOW IS THIS RELAXING!?” you’re practically writhing under her hands, “I FEEL LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING TO SNAP”

“It is relaxing! You’ll thank me tomorrow” she’s smirking at your childish antics. Honestly your idea of stretching was incense, low lighting and soft music. This felt worse than working out.

“Ok let’s swap you big baby” she coos.

“Urgh thank god I was about to pass out already” you jump to your feet and give her space to lie down.

“Uh you’re going to have to help me I don’t know what to do” suddenly feel the awkwardness return as you watch her laying on the floor.

“Ok squat here and put one hand here” she pulls you down in between her legs and places one of your hands on her upper left thigh, “now hold this down and press this leg up” she guides you so her right leg is resting on your shoulder.

“Uh…like this?” you asked blushing again. Why does this feel so intimate?

“Yea but push harder” she says as she lays back down on the mat, “harder Y/N I’m not going to break” it sounded like a command now.

“This is a weird angle are you sure …” she interrupts you by tugging roughly on your round collar so that now your face is inches from hers, “I did ballet I’m flexible don’t worry I like the deep stretch” she’s smirking again still holding onto your collar.

“R-right I’ll be sure to remember that” you whisper stutter your response. You’re starting to think she’s doing this on purpose.

You’re thinking back to all the touches. A hand on your upper arm. Her squeezing your shoulders a few times when you said they were sore. Her standing behind you with her hands on your waist to show you how to properly execute a squat without causing injury to your back. Or her taking your hand and placing it on her stomach to better illustrate “which muscles will be activated when you’re doing core exercises properly”.

Sure it could be her genuinely trying to help….but what if it was something more.

After a few more positions where you find yourself either laying across her or straddling her, Steve walks into the gym and coughs awkwardly behind the both of you. You jump off of Natasha and stand ramrod straight fidgeting with your fingers.

“Hi Y/N you’re here early. Are you done already?” he asks sweetly.

“Yeah Y/N and I are done here Steve” Natasha answers for you picking up her stuff.

“See you tomorrow morning same time Y/N” she says as she saunters away towards the shower rooms.

“Right yeah tomorrow” is all you manage to get out as she makes her way out of the gym.

“What was that about?” Steve asks you as he starts unpacking his gym bag and grabbing his water bottle and towel.

“I guess I have a new workout buddy” you say smiling ear to ear.

“Hmm…”

“Hmm? Steve don’t leave me with a ‘hmm’”

“No it’s just that Nat hates working out with anyone. I guess she likes you” he says hiding a knowing smile as he fake wipes non-existent sweat off his face.

“Hmm” you say picking up your phone and towel, slinging it over your shoulder and making your way towards the exit.

“Hey, now what’s that supposed to mean Y/N?” Steve calls to you.

“Nothing Steve” you continue with a bounce in your step and a smile on your face, “means nothing at all”.

Tagging: @natasharomanoffismywife

#redfic #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #sweat

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amerrierworld · 3 years

Text

Babysitter (pt 9)

Thor (Ragnarok) - fanfiction

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: A Loki interlude.

Characters: Hela, Loki

Word Count: 2,111

Warnings: Idk, swearing?

Loki was incredibly annoyed at the current situation.

He’d woken up on a random, clunky spaceship with a pounding head and a bruised neck. He remembered the world going blank and being quite certain that he’d been dead until, frustratingly so, his lungs gasped for the most painful breath he’d ever taken.

A janky pirate ship had snatched him from floating in space amongst the debris, stripped him of his armour -no doubt to sell or melt down into other knick knacks- and left him in the back amongst the cargo. They’d presumed he was dead, so when he had woken up, they had a bit of a shock.

Not a word was comprehensible, Loki couldn't understand whatever gibberish language they spoke, so he ignored them and shuffled to their food supply. That got him a whack on his back from a whip and a kick to the back of the knees.

Trying to take back his armour also earned him a few bruises. They didn’t seem very dangerous, but quite a nuisance.

Amongst the cargo he found familiar debris that struck an icy chord inside Loki. There were piles of Asgardian clothing- ripped and filthy, but Asgardian nonetheless. Bags with very few belongings, and metal scraps of the ship they had been on.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the remainder of the ship of refugees was probably lost. When the pirates began to beat him again for rummaging through their stuff, a rusty old pipe amongst the stolen goods helped quiet them down immensely.

With his kidnappers knocked out, Loki scarfed down what measly rations they had and set course for Earth at light speed -well, the closest speed they got to light speed which was more like a quick paced jog.

He tied up the crew and tossed them in the back, and lounged in the cockpit as the ship traveled on autopilot, picking scraps of food from between his teeth.

Communications on this ship were absolute garbage, he concluded. There was barely any signal and he couldn’t figure out where the closest planet was. So, he took a nap, ate some more food, and tried not to think too much about the harrowing experience of Thanos choking him to death.

Hours later, they entered a very familiar atmosphere. Loki let the ship crash-land, grabbed a bag of few supplies and hopped out just before they hit the ground.

He marched on through the thicket of trees where they landed. Angry shouts that were no doubt curse words echoed from the smoking ship as he left them behind and tried to gather his bearings.

An old cabin was the first building he saw. With a rusty dagger at the ready, he inspected the home around the back, looking for a vehicle he could take, something to get him moving faster than his legs, when suddenly a high pitched shriek nearly shattered his eardrums.

A young girl, no older than six, was staring at him with big brown eyes. Rain boots covered in mud, an aged stuffy in her hands. Loki put his finger to his lips, dreading that he was going to have to kill the girl before she gave him away or screamed bloody murder.

“Daddy! There’s an Avenger in the yard!” she sped off towards a shed, where there was a light on inside. Loki’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Whatever outcome he was expecting, this was by far the worst.

“I’m not- fuck.”

He shoved the dagger away and out of sight and stomped towards the shed, fuming with annoyance. He was about to go off at the man for letting his daughter talk to random strangers and how he certainly was not an Avenger, but the man in question had a large saw in hand and about 200 pounds of muscle to carry, so he snapped his mouth shut.

“Oh, hello there,” he said, his daughter bouncing about the workshop. “What brings one of you all the way out here?”

“And where exactly is out here?” Loki asked.

“Canada! What, you superheroes never been to Canada before? Always hanging around New York, eh? Are you taking a trip or something?”

“No. I, uh, crash-landed here.”

“From space?” the girl piped up, gawking.

“Yes, from space,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Fighting angry aliens.”

“I told you, Daddy! He’s a hero!”

“I bet you’re trying to find your way to America, then? Lord knows why, there’s all kinds of weird things happening around town nowadays.”

“What do you mean?”

“Half the world’s gone! Poof! Just like that, some alien business I bet.”

“Are you going to save us from them?” his daughter asked again. Loki sighed.

“I’ll try my best. Now, can you please show me how to get to New York as fast as possible?”

The lumberjack’s husband took Loki and his daughter in his jeep and drove a merry long way to the nearest airport. On the way, the little girl asked him all sorts of questions about the Avengers, that he could only half-answer.

“Is it true Thor is super powerful?”

“Well. He's not that powerful. He just uses a hammer. Anyone with a hammer can use it as a weapon and suddenly be considered powerful.”

“I wish I had a super powerful hammer. Then my brothers would stop teasing me so much.”

“Hey,” her second father softly scolded.

“They’re mean!”

“Sibling feuds? I know the feeling,” Loki muttered.

“Do you have siblings, Mr. Avenger?”

“Sure do,” he smiled wryly. “Absolute bullies.”

“Me too!”

“Hey now, let our guest settle down a bit,” her dad said. “She gets a little excited around new people, so sorry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“The local airport’s just up here. It’ll take you to Detroit, and then you gotta get a connection flight to New York.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, genuinely.

“Why are you going to New York, Mr. Avenger?”

“To find my siblings,” Loki sighed. “At least, one of them should still be there.”

“But they’re mean to you?”

“Yeah,” Loki pondered as the car came to a stop. “But they’re family. I suppose.”

A few cunning lies and disguises later, Loki was suddenly landing in New York, amidst chaos. It had been a few days since he’d woken up, and apparently a few days since what they call the ‘Blip’. Humans clearly don’t like having their realities altered.

Your home was abandoned. Alfred didn't even greet Loki at the door, and no amount of pulling and prying opened it for him. The lights were off, and he feared the worst.

It wasn’t until he was in the streets and overhead muttering about some crazy goth lady terrorizing a nearby street that Loki thought he had finally found something.

He marched down the street until, to his surprise, he found Hela sitting hunched on the side walk, scowling and daring anyone to come close to her. She looked incredibly tired and disheveled, but her eyes were clear and angry, and recognized her idiot brother immediately.

“What the hell brought you back here?” Hela snarled.

“A toddler’s wisdom, if you’ll believe it,” Loki said, ignoring her glare as he sat down next to her.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Hela grumbled.

“Have you eaten?”

“Since when did you become Mother? I don't need your help.”

“Really?” Loki picked up a filthy scoop from a pile of three ice cream tubs that were fully devoured. He dangled it from his fingertips for a moment, pulling a face. “I think you do.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Glad to see you too, sister.”

Silence. Hela really did look like shit, Loki noted. Her hair was mussed, and there were rips and broken pieces in her armour, reminiscent of the time they’d met. She had to be weak not to bother fixing it with her powers, or was just too preoccupied to even think to fix it.

“Where’s Y/N?” Loki asked.

“Beats me.”

“Did you kill her?”

Hela’s eyes snapped to his, a sudden fire in them. “How dare you say that?”

“Well, her home is abandoned and no one answered the door, and you’re here cowering like a criminal. One makes conclusions.”

Something changed in her expression, and she turned her body to face him. “Abandoned?”

Loki frowned, “yes. Didn't you know?”

“No- I.. I’ve been here, the last time I saw her...”

Hela jumped to her feet, nearly kicking Loki in the process. “That bastard, he took her, didn’t he? Him and his awful, forsaken pieces of shit he calls friends.”

“Who?”

“Our darling brother,” she spat. “He came in and- and threatened me, and then took her from me.”

She paced in front of him, green fire trailing behind her heels, hot with anger. She had expected you to come find her, take her back to your home, make her feel safe. But when you never came she had assumed you had abandoned her. Now, knowing Thor had taken you instead, filled her with rage.

“Where does your little posse hang out, hm? Some supposed secret lair? A great big castle in the sky?”

Loki blinked at her, at her sudden outbursts, at the scared glances from passerbys, and didn’t know what to say.

“Fine then, I’ll get her myself,” she growled, turning away from him.

Loki nearly let her walk away, let her walk into whatever doom she was getting herself into, but with a groan and a mad realization, he knew she was the only one he could rely on right now.

“Wait,” he said, reluctantly, hurrying after her and grabbing her arm. “You can’t just go running off. Tell me what happened.”

Hela spat at his feet. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“You care about her, don't you? Y/N? Why else would you want to ‘rescue’ her from our brother?”

“Be silent,” she hissed.

“No, no, I’m right, aren’t I? You care for her, but you messed up, and now you have no one on your side. That’s why you left, and that’s why Thor had to take her.”

Hela yanked her arm away before Loki could see her face, but he knew what she felt; remorse, and loss.

“Tell me.”

And so, reluctantly, knowing she had no other choice, Hela sat him down, this time on an actual park bench rather than the ground. She told him what had happened, how her mistrust had turned to affection for you, and how Thanos had destroyed everything in the end, and how the Avengers had fought her out of fear.

“I know the feeling,” Loki agreed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching an elderly lady feed a bunch of pigeons as if nothing drastic had happened to the world the past few days.

“And now I don't know where she is, and she probably hates me, but who am I to blame her for that?”

“If I know anything about Y/N, is that she cares about everyone, but it takes a lot more to win her love. She doesn’t hate you. She’s just afraid. I mean, you did after all break her window and run off into nowhere.”

Hela stayed quiet, made an annoyed sound in her throat, and looked away.

“I’m starving, how did you get all that ice-cream? Why not an actual meal? Or were you just eating your feelings?”

“Y/N doesn’t like it when I kill people, so it was either massacre the street or steal their dairy products,” Hela bristled.

“Fair enough.”

“Now what, hm? You come out here, seemingly from the dead, chastise me for messing up, and now judge my diet? What do you really want, Loki?”

“Not sure, to be perfectly honest,” Loki said. “I thought I was dead, and then I wasn’t. Frankly, my priorities are shifting.”

“And what is your current priority?”

“Getting you back to Y/N so you stop moping around and fix this.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

Loki grinned, standing up. His armour shimmered and regained its full glamour; horned helmet and deep green cloak.

“Taking notes from me, are we?” Hela grumbled. Loki glared at her.

“I was wearing this look long before you got here. Now, get up, we’re going to infiltrate the Avengers and give you your romantic happily-ever-after so you stop being such a pain in everyone’s neck.”

“You think we’ll just be able to get in? You really are as mad as Father was.”

“I’ve broken into quite a few places over the years, I’ll have you know. I’m the God of Mischief after all.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Hela stood, her own armour strengthening again.

“Shut it.”

A/N: Loki is not dead! I know he’s technically alive in an alternate universe or whatever.. but I wanted the Odin Trio to be together sooooo here we are. Let me know what you think!!

taglist: @midnight-lestrange @cheerfullyvenomous @germansarechill@gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901@marvels-writings

#hela #hela x reader #hela/reader #hela x you #hela odinsdottir #thor #thor ragnarok #thor ragnarok fanfiction #loki #loki odinsin #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #cate blanchett #tom hiddleston #best siblings amirite #wlw #lgbt #merry writes

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hazzoranstories · 3 years

Text

Damon Salvatore x Reader One Shot | Katerina’s Sabotage Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Includes: Violence, murder, harsh language, childbirth, and blood

________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Italicized is when characters are speaking in Bulgarian

*Bulgaria; 1490*

Katerina's screams filled the room once more as her mother encouraged her to keep going and get this child out of her. All the Petrova's were panicking, rumbling in Bulgarian until they heard a baby's cry join her mother's pants. 14-year-old Y/N grinned at her sister, who had sweat glistening her face. The younger Petrova hugged her sister who's breathing began to mellow down.

"It's a girl," their mother announced and held up the newborn in her arms.

"A girl?" Both sisters questioned, and their mother nodded.

"Please, mother . . . . let me see her," Katerina begged and held out her hand for her child.

"Woman, don't! What are you doing?" Their father cut in, and the three women snapped their heads around. Mrs. Petrova quickly stood up and gave the baby to the man.

"Let Katerina hold her at least once . . . . just once . . . . at least once," Y/N pleaded to her father, feeling bad for her older sister.

"Forget it . . . . you have disgraced this family!" her father then ran out with the buddle of blankets in his arms.

"Father, please! No, father, no! No!" Katerina screeched and tried to get up, but Y/N held her back.

"No, Katerina. It's better for her! It's better for her!" her mother yelled, and Katerina clung onto Y/N's blood-covered dress.

"No, mother, please," the young girl sobbed.

"Let her go . . . . let her go, Katerina," Y/N whispered to her sister.

"Please, Y/N . . . ."

~:*:~

*Mystic Falls, Virginia: Hospital; Present Day*

Caroline was passed out in her bed with the humming of the tv show she was watching in the background. She then woke up with a groan and rubbed her heavy eyes. She turned around and gasped to see someone standing over her bed. "Elena?" she panicked, and Y/N tilted her to examine the blonde girl. She was so tired that the ancestor of her friend looked like her.

"Hi, Caroline," Y/N muttered, and Caroline sighed, covering her eyes in exhaustion.

"What are you doing here?" the Forbes asked with a sigh.

"My name is Y/N . . . ." Y/N walked closer to Caroline's bed, who suddenly tensed. "I was hoping you could give the Salvatore brothers a message for me," the Pierce snarled.

"What are you talking about? What message? Why do you look so much like Elena?" Caroline groaned, still thinking it was Elena and she was going insane.

"Game on," Y/N whispered before shoving a pillow into Caroline's face. The blonde screamed and began struggling under Y/N grasp on her. She tried desperately to get the pillow off her face so she could breathe but end up hitting her hand on the side of the bed. That was her last action before her body went limp. Y/N removed the pillow and looked down at the deceased girl. She shook her head at the stupidness of the people in this town and strutted out of the hospital.

~:*:~

*Mystic Falls, Virginia: Mystic Falls Carnival; Present Day*

As another ding rang from the bell near the arm wrestling competition, Damon chuckled as Stefan walked away from Mason Lockwood after he had just tried to beat him. "You didn't put in any effort at all," Damon commented.

"Yeah, actually, I did," Stefan whispered, and the older Salvatore raised an eyebrow.

"Come with me," the two brothers walked to a more secluded spot. "Is he-"

"No, no, no. It wasn't that kind of strength, but it was more than human if that makes sense," Stefan explained, and Damon groaned.

"What is up with that family? If they're not vampires, then what the hell are they?" Damon hissed.

"Ooh. Uh, maybe they're, uh, ninja turtles," a feminine voice came from behind them. Damon whipped around, and Stefan looked around his brother to see the younger Pierce sister.

"You're not funny," Damon spat at her, and she pouted.

"Or, no, zombies. Werewolves," she added and smiled mischievously.

"No comedic timing at all," the vampire barked, and Y/N huffed.

"Well, I'm working on it. But have you seen my dear friend Caroline? I'm looking for her," the Pierce asked, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Since when do you know Caroline? Let alone be all buddy-buddy," Damon sniggered, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Look, I know you're bitter, Damon, because I snapped your neck but get over yourself. I don't love you anymore. So just shut up and point the way to Caroline. I need to make sure she drinks human blood," she replied, and both Salvatore's eyes popped out of their sockets.

"What?" Stefan hissed, and the Pierce glanced at them.

"Did you not know? I visited barbie in the hospital. She did not want to die," with Y/N rolling her eyes, she walked away with both Salvatores trying to stop her. Y/N searched for Caroline but eventually got too bored and uninterested to care. So instead, she played some carnival games.

She was in the middle of ring tose when she heard loud gasping coming from the carnival's outskirts. She glanced over her shoulder to see the blonde girl that is Caroline Forbes. The Pierce smirked and handed the vendor her cash before stuttering over to Caroline.

"Hey, friend, it's been too long!" Y/N exclaimed, and Caroline whipped around.

"Wha-what did you do to me?" she teenager cried.

"I turned you," Y/N said, and Caroline looked even more freaked out. "Okay, well, technically, you have to drink blood to turn, but that'll be easy. But! Based on the fact that I can't hear your heart! Oh, Caroline! You did it! I'm so proud of you!" the vampire jumped up and down.

"What am I?" Caroline sobbed.

"Here. Let me show you. Come on," Y/N latched onto the Forbes's hand and forced her to a picnic table where a man sat. Caroline grunted from hearing the blood being pumped through the man's body. The girls then noticed his nose was bleeding, and Y/N sneered.

"Can I help you two?" The man asked, and Y/N walked up to him.

"Don't scream and don't move a muscle," she compelled, and the man froze in place, his eyes wide. Y/N turned around and nudged Caroline. "Go on, blondie."

"No, no, I can't-" Y/N cut her off with a groan.

"Fine. I have to show you everything, I guess," the Pierce complained and went back to the man. She tilted his head to the side and, without hesitation, sunk her teeth into his neck. He didn't make a sound or even fidget. Y/N pulled away, and in seconds of Caroline seeing the blood, she jumped and began her feeding.

Less than five minutes had passed before the man died of blood loss and both Caroline and Y/N were full. Y/N was pleased while Caroline was crying her eyes to death. Damon then walked up to the two other vampires as Y/N dragged her thumb along the blood on her lip.

"He's dead. I killed him," Caroline sobbed. Damon gazed at Y/N with depressed eyes, but she showed no sign of emotion.

"We," Y/N corrected. Damon continued to stare at his past girlfriend, and she held up three fingers and mouth, "three down. Two to go." She winked at him.

It was a matter of time before the man was completely drained, and Y/N was getting ready to bury him. She was finishing up when Stefan and Elena arrived.

"Y/N! Y/N stop!" Stefan yelled.

"Oh, give it a rest, Stefan! Her switch is turned off. Do you really think she's going to listen!" Damon snapped, and Y/N stopped feeding for a minute. She knew she disappointed everyone by turning off her emotions and that everyone hated her now, but she would never imagine Damon giving up on her. He would hate her along with the others but would never lose all hope. That's not who he was. Or at least, who she remembered him as.

A nerve clicked. Y/N stood up slowly. Hopped off the picnic table. Ground her teeth together as tightly as she could without it being noticeable. And walked away without a single word. The man's blood still surrounding her mouth.

~:*:~

She couldn't stop her desperate sobbing and choking on cries. She also wanted to stand and head to a hotel, but she remained sitting alone in the woods. She was disgusted with herself. She killed an innocent girl for sport, turned her into a monster, and forced her to feed. She ruined this girl's life. Every other event in and outside the tomb was a blur except for the bad parts. She killed a teenage boy and a man. For what reason? She didn't know what. The worst part about being washed over with a tsunami of feelings was the ones she had for Damon.

He watched her do all those things! He watched her become a monster! She turned him into a demon and left him alone to figure it out. She ruined the time they had together. And she ruined their entire relationship. It was like a constant stabbing in her lifeless heart, and she couldn't stand it.

Through her screams of terror, she heard commotion going on where she and Caroline fed. With a stumble, she stood up and walked out of the woods. What she saw made her cry even more. A Bennett witch, no doubt, was glaring at Damon, who was holding his head in pain with a line of fire creeping up on him.

"Stop!" the Pierce screeched once the flames licked his black pants. Elena, who was for some reason still there, looked up from warning Bonnie. She saw Y/N run towards them with tears streaming down her face and held in a puzzled look.

"Please! Please stop! You're going to kill him! Please!" Y/N shouted to the witch, who never lost focus. Damon continued to thrash, which made Y/N sprint up to Bonnie and tackle her. She lost concentration and hit her head on the concrete, causing a groan to escape her lips. The fire immediately went out, and everyone looked over to Damon, who was struggling to get up.

"Damon," Y/N whispered and hurled herself off Bonnie to go to her lover. The Pierce went down to the ground and put Damon's face in her hands, trying to make him look at her. She kept muttering his name until his shocked eyes met hers. She let out a sob before crushing her lips onto his.

"Damon. Damon, I'm so sorry, please forgive me. Please, Damon," she pleaded, but Damon was too flustered to reply. "Say something. Damon, say something."

Once the Salvatore came back down to Earth, he saw the sparkle in Y/N eyes return even if it was covered with tears. "God, I missed you," he mumbled and reconnected their kiss. Y/N broke it and smiled, the tears still making waves down her cheeks. She placed her forehead against his and couldn't stop crying till the next morning.

A/N: This is the end of the mini-series cause I kinda lost motivation

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justanobsessedfangirl · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Shy - Chapter 3 - The Maze Runner Newt Fic

Request from aw0kenangel: Oh shit oh shit The angst 😳 GIVE ME THE ANGST -also question/kind of a suggestion or idea, maybe Thomas could come up in the box next and he and the reader spark a close friendship; ADDING TO THE ANGST HELL YEAH *ahem* sorry

Are you in my head? How’d you know Thomas was coming up ;)))))))

Request from Anonymous: i’m not sure if you’re taking requests but part 3 of the cheating newt one? if not sorry to bother. <3

I love receiving requests, don’t ever worry about being a bother!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Once Bitten, Twice Shy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

“Find anything new?”

You slowed to a stop as you came out of the Maze. Swiping at the sweat on your forehead, you shook your head at Minho. Your feet ached, your calves burned, and all you wanted to do was sit down, but you had to play your part in the conversation. “The new Greenie came up today, right?”

Minho nodded. It was strange to see him at this time of day, near sunset, not dirty from hours of running. It had been his day off, so he was clean and refreshed and exactly the opposite of you.

“How is he?” you asked. “Or she?” You felt your chest tighten, so slight it was almost unnoticeable. Is the Greenie another Margaret? Your heart thumped painfully against your ribs. Another Newt?

A month wasn’t enough time to adjust to your new reality. A reality where you didn’t kiss Newt, didn’t touch Newt, didn’t even talk to Newt. A reality where you avoided the only other girl in the Glade because every time you saw her you could imagine her lips on his.

You needed to move. You started for the Runner’s Hut, Minho matching your easy jog.

“He tried to run into the Maze.”

You laughed. “Maybe he’ll replace you.”

Minho snorted. “He’s a Slopper for sure.”

You reached the Hut with a smile on your face. “Does he know his name?” As you opened the door, you glanced back to see Minho shake his head. “He’ll get it eventually. Where is he now?”

Minho hesitated. When he finally spoke, his words were quick, like he was hoping they wouldn’t stick. “With Newt.”

You busied yourself getting paper and a pencil, trying to ignore the way your insides froze at the sound of his name.

“But he’ll be at the bonfire tonight. The Greenie. Not Newt. Newt doesn’t usually go anymore...” Minho trailed off.

Unspoken words hung in the air like a bad smell. He doesn’t go anymore because he’s afraid you’ll be there. You didn’t need anyone to tell you that; it was exactly why you didn’t go either.

With a shrug, you sat down. Relief flooded your legs. “I think I’m gonna call it a night after this. Maybe I’ll meet the Greenie tomorrow.” You started mapping the section of the Maze you ran that day.

Minho sat down next to you. “You haven’t been to a bonfire in a while.”

You shrugged again.

“It’ll be fun.” He paused. “You can still have fun, you know.”

Your teeth clenched. The next couple of lines you drew were dark, and you pressed the pencil tip so hard it almost snapped. “I don’t have time for that.”

Minho leaned back in his chair. “Yes, you do, Y/N, you just don’t want to. I know you want to get out of the Maze, but you need to relax sometimes too.” He stood up, walking behind you. “Your shoulders aren’t supposed to be up by your ears!” He put his hands on your shoulders and gave them a light squeeze.

You managed a small smile. You hadn’t realized how tense you were until Minho brought it up, but now, with his warm touch, you could feel how tight you were. Everything about you was coiled, ready to spring up and bolt if you needed to.

“There you go,” Minho said, rubbing your shoulders. “Much better. You have a neck again.”

You spun around and jabbed his side. Minho danced out of the way, cackling. He strode to the door, leaving you and your map.

“I’ll see you at the bonfire, Y/N!” he called over his shoulder as he ducked out.

Before you could think of all of the reasons why you shouldn’t go, Newt and Margaret and sleep and escape, you heard yourself agree.

The Runner’s Hut was silent after Minho left. You found yourself mapping faster, a small, hidden part of you eager to be with people, mingling around the fire, maybe indulging in a few sips of Gally’s moonshine. A while later, you were done drawing the path you took that day. You locked your map in the trunk with the others. For a few seconds, you couldn’t walk away. You lingered in the Hut, thinking of the maps, thinking of the Maze, thinking, thinking, thinking. Flames of anger licked at the edge of your mind. There was still so much to do. You were about to crack open the trunk again to see if you could piece anything together when you heard the faint roar of the Gladers at the bonfire.

Swallowing your feelings, you spun on your heel and left the Runner’s Hut.

Night had come while you were inside. A sliver of moon hung in the sky, thousands and thousands of stars surrounding it. You followed the smoky scent to the bonfire. Some boys sat on logs around it, chatting, but a large group was off to the side, forming a ring so thick you couldn’t see what was going on in the center. Their voices fought, shouts against cheers against insults. You heard, “Get him!” and “Shank!” and “Klunk!” and other, more barbaric jeers.

You spotted the back of Minho’s head and weaved your way around bodies as you approached him. When you got there, you jabbed a finger into his side, making him jump.

“You shank-” he whirled. A smile broke on his face when he saw you.

You mustered up the courage to smile back, despite the anxiety chewing at your nerves. Your eyes darted from Minho to the surrounding boys, hoping not to see Newt or Margaret, while also praying that you would see them, hopefully separate from each other, hopefully sad. Was that a flash of her hair, glowing red in the light of the fire?

Before you could get a better look, Minho looped an arm around your shoulder and steered you to his side. A couple of boys were still in front of you, blocking your way. “The Greenie’s in there with Gally!” Minho yelled over the noise. He forced himself between the pair in front of you, dragging you along.

“Sorry,” you called, ducking around elbows and slipping past long legs. When you finally faced the center of the circle, you were met with a scene of violence.

Gally’s hands were curled into meaty fists, the muscles of his arms on full display. His right hand was bloody, but you weren’t sure if it was his, because, scrambling up from the ground in front of Gally, was a bleeding boy you didn’t recognize. He had short brown hair and a split lip. Where Gally was strong the way Builders are, all mass and height and power, the Greenie was lean muscle, built for speed.

Gally lunged. The Greenie ducked out of the way in the nick of time, giving Gally a swift push in the side that sent him sprawling to the ground. The Greenie had time for a smile, a few seconds to relish in the wild applause, and then Gally, on his back in the dirt, delivered a sharp kick to the Greenie’s legs. The Greenie went down, his head slamming to the ground.

“Cheap shot,” you muttered to Minho.

Minho’s eyes were alight with excitement. “No one’s knocked Gally down for at least the past three bonfires.”

“Maybe the Greenie won’t be a Slopper after all.” You kept your eyes on the new boy. He was lifting his head, his lips moving, but you were too far and the crowd was too loud for you to hear anything. “What’s he saying?”

Around you, the boys were quieting as the Greenie stood.

“Thomas!” the Greenie said. “My name is Thomas!”

There was a beat of silence. Then, from across the circle, Alby pointed at the Greenie and yelled, “Thomas!”

The people around you took it up as though it was a war cry. “Thomas!” they shouted. “Thomas!” Just like that, the circle broke, a mob converging on Thomas to pat his back and shake his hand and let him know that he was one of you.

The swarm of people lasted only a few minutes, but the connection you felt with the other Gladers seemed like it would exist forever. You were one, welcoming Thomas into the sea. Minho was on your right and a Slicer, maybe Winston, was on your left, and in front of you was Clint holding two glasses of moonshine, and little Chuck was somewhere amongst you all, his high voice sounding a cheer that could be heard above the deeper tones of the other boys. For those few seconds, you were unified.

Eventually, people trickled away. Some went to the fire, others to the food, others to the drinks. Gally had disappeared, maybe going into hiding to nurse his wounded ego. Still standing where his triumph had taken place was Thomas, and next to him, you, Minho, and Chuck lingered.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. Now that you were close to Thomas, you could see he had brown eyes and a few moles dotted across his cheeks. He gave you a shy smile and nodded.

“I’m Thomas. In case you missed it.”

Chuck giggled. His face was red and his smile huge. “How could anyone miss that? I bet we woke all the Grievers!”

In an instant, the atmosphere shifted from cheerful to tense. You and Minho glared at Chuck. Blood drained from the boy’s face. He clapped his hands over his mouth.

“What’s a Griever? People keep mentioning them but they won’t explain,” Thomas said. He waited, but neither you nor Minho said a word. “No one answers any questions here.”

It’s for your own good, you thought, it’s safer this way. Sometimes you wished you didn’t know about Grievers. They were walking nightmares, armed with hundreds of different, painful ways to kill someone. It wasn't enough that you had to risk running into them in the Maze. They infiltrated your dreams. How many nights had you awoken in Newt's arms after seeing him get torn apart over and over again? Even now, when your relationship with him was so messy, you wished you could scourge that image from your mind. You wished you could forget about the Grievers.

But that would make you less aware in the Maze. It might even make you think that staying in the Glade was the right thing to do. So, as a Runner, it was your duty to remember the Grievers. To remember the danger. And, as you looked at Chuck, the youngest boy in the Glade, and Thomas, who was still new enough not to be stripped of his innocence, you recognized that it was also your duty to protect them from that knowledge.

“It was nice meeting you, Thomas.” You began walking away. Minho nodded at Thomas and joined you.

From behind, you heard Chuck’s voice, eager for redemption. “You should hang out with us on your next day off, Y/N!”

As you were turning around to give Chuck and Thomas a smile and an apology (like hell you were taking a day off any time soon) someone else spoke up.

“That’s a good idea.” Newt was approaching the group. He walked slowly, hesitantly. His shoulders were slumped like he was tired, and there was something about his face that seemed different.

You froze.

“I was looking at the schedule yesterday,” Newt continued. He wouldn’t look at you. His gaze was fixed on the ground, his features hardly visible in the dim light. Half of you wanted to see his eyes, while the other half wanted him to shut up and leave you alone. “You were supposed to rest three days ago.”

Your heart ached at his accent. You gritted your teeth and steeled yourself. “I wasn’t tired.” This was the first time you’d spoken since the time you’d rejected his apology. Pretty weak apology, you thought, remembering his excuse of never seeing another girl and getting “caught up”. In an instant, unresolved rage rushed through your body. You squeezed your fists. You needed to keep this in check. Not in front of the Greenie. Not in front of Chuck and Minho. Not at the bonfire.

“Minho, you know the protocol. She’ll get injured if you let her keep doing this.” Forgotten notes of protectiveness seeped into Newt’s voice. He couldn’t act like this anymore; not after what he’d done.

You opened your mouth.

Minho beat you. “I know.” He looked down at you regretfully. “I’m the Keeper. You need to listen to me if you want to keep your job. And if I want to keep mine.”

You stared at him, lips pursed together. Curses and insults bubbled in your mouth.

“You’re taking tomorrow off,” he said.

“I can’t take tomorrow off! I’m supposed to cover Hank’s section!”

Minho frowned. You wouldn’t look at Newt. You refused to.

“Fine. After tomorrow you’re taking a day off.” Minho’s tone was firm.

You wanted to argue. You wanted to turn on Newt and tell him off. You wanted to shake some sense into these people. Didn’t they understand how important this was?

“It’ll be fun, Y/N. You’ll like hanging out with us,” Chuck piped up. He sounded genuinely excited, if a little afraid that you’d start yelling at him. Next to him, Thomas stood silently, watching with intelligent brown eyes.

You deflated in a long exhale. “Fine.” You spat the word like it was poison. You gave Minho one last betrayed look, then walked away without a goodbye. Not to Thomas or Chuck, and definitely not to Newt.

The bonfire was over.

You ran angry the next day. With sharp eyes, you scanned every stone on the walls and ground, every patch of dirt, every tangle of vines. Even though you were in a different section, it was all still the same. There was nothing out of the ordinary. You weren’t expecting a glowing exit sign, but you did want something. This couldn’t be a puzzle without a solution.

At one point during the day, when the sun was still high overhead, you thought you heard a scream. It was faint, but it made you stop in your tracks, hold your breath, and wait to hear it again. After nearly a minute had passed with no new noises, you continued running.

Was the scream a sign? Should you try to run towards it? What if it wasn’t a scream, but the screech of metal as a new door opened?

Your legs moved faster. You searched every passage. Every nook and cranny and every dead end. And you found nothing.

You arrived back at the Glade early, sweaty and sore and disappointed. You’d spent the last hour or so trying to tamp down your frustration at your forced rest day tomorrow. You were so angry that you almost ignored Minho when you saw him in the Runner’s Hut. The look on his face made you pause.

“What happened?” you asked.

He was sitting, maps spread in front of him. His eyebrows were scrunched in worry, his mouth twisted in a frown. All of the playfulness had left his expression. Behind you, the sound of the door opening made you turn. Alby walked in. You whipped around to face Minho again as you caught sight of Newt trailing behind your leader.

Just that slight glimpse of him was enough to confirm what you’d thought at the bonfire last night: he was thinner, more somber looking. There were dark circles under his eyes. For a brief second, you let yourself wonder where he was sleeping. Was Margaret not as comfortable to sleep next to as you were? Did he miss the bed you’d shared? Did he miss you?

Minho’s voice broke into your thoughts. “Ben got stung.”

You blinked. “During the day? How?”

Alby and Newt took seats at the table, the latter boy choosing the spot farthest away from where you stood. Alby was the one who answered you. “We don’t know.”

You pulled out a chair and sat. Your hands felt numb. Beneath the table, your legs shook. “Is he still...” you trailed off.

Alby nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “He’s alive in the Slammer. Some Builders are keeping guard.”

Your wide eyes prompted Minho to add, somewhat reluctantly, “He tried to kill Thomas.”

Icy dread flooded your lungs. Your stomach was in your heart, your heart was gone, because instead of a steady pounding you just felt sick.

You knew Ben. You’d ran with him and laughed with him and lived in this stupid shucking Glade with him, and now, because of a Griever and an unlucky day, he was someone else.

“Y/N-” Newt started, his voice soft.

“Is Thomas okay?” you interrupted. After Minho nodded, you asked, “When is Ben getting banished?” You looked from Minho to Alby, ignoring Newt with every fiber of your being.

“Tonight. Soon,” was Alby’s reply.

You nodded. Clenching and unclenching your hands, you made the numbness go away, replaced with jittery energy. “We’ll have to look in the Maze for any clues tomorrow. Did Ben say where it happened?” You slid one of the maps in front of Minho toward you. “I’ll check out his section tomorrow, we can have someone else cover mine, and-”

“You’re not going, Y/N.” Minho’s voice was hard. When you looked up at him, his face was like stone.

“What?”

“You still need to rest. This doesn’t change that.”

You looked around incredulously. One of them had to see how ridiculous this was. Alby stared back at you, unrelenting. Newt’s eyes were softer. You felt your gaze stop on him. His brown eyes were deep pools of pleading. You could practically hear him in your ear, his accent thick, his words laced with care, as he told you you needed to take a day off.

You forced your eyes back on Minho. “How could this not change everything?” You struggled to keep from shouting. “I’m one of the best Runners! You need me out there.”

"You're wearing yourself out, Y/N. You and I both know that," Minho said.

Your muscles pulsed with soreness in response. You thought of how painful sleeping was, not just because you were alone but because your body never stopped throbbing, and even though every bone in your body ached with exhaustion, your mind could never quiet. "I'm fine," you insisted.

“Minho and I are going to run Ben’s section,” Alby said.

“No offense, Alby, but-”

“Y/N, I think you should leave.” Alby’s tone was more serious than you’d ever heard.

You shook your head. “I still have to draw my map,” you said stubbornly.

Alby rose. “Then we’ll go to the Homestead.”

At his words, Minho and Newt stood up and made for the door, giving you sympathetic looks that you wanted to throw back in their faces. Minho had the gall to pat you on the shoulder. You glared at them.

As he stood in the door, waiting for Minho and Newt to leave, Alby said, in a kinder manner than before, “We’ll tell you everything when we get back tomorrow. We know how good you are. We can’t afford you getting an overuse injury." He stared you directly in your eyes and you saw the smallest shred of fear. "Not right now.”

And then he was gone and you were alone in the Runner’s Hut. The table was clean; you hadn’t noticed Minho take the maps. Moving as if in slow motion, you gathered pencil and paper and began to draw.

So much had happened in one month. How was that possible? You squeezed the pencil tighter, willing your hands to stop shaking. You thought you might cry. You thought you might rip apart the map in front of you. You thought you might shatter into pieces because everything was going wrong and you were no closer to getting out and now your friends were getting hurt and soon you would be even lonelier.

Time passed without you realizing. You must have sketched your section of the Maze five times. Every time you finished, you got another piece of paper. You needed to keep your hands busy. You needed to feel like you were doing something.

Outside, the walls began to rumble. You drew faster. Ben was probably at the entrance right now. Who was pushing him in? Was Ben crying? Was he begging? Was he so damaged from the Griever sting that he was still trying to attack his friends?

Your pencil ripped through the paper and you were drawing on the table and your face was wet and your breath was shaky. The pencil tip snapped. You flung it across the room and dropped your head in your hands and cried.

There wasn’t enough air. Or maybe you just had too many tears. There were tears for Newt and the kiss that felt like it’d happened so long ago, there were tears for Thomas and being attacked in a strange place, there were tears for Chuck for being so young, there were tears for Alby for having to act so old, there were tears for Minho and Ben and all of the other Runners who risked their sanity and their lives and sometimes didn’t get lucky.

You never heard the door open and close. You saw someone set a plate with a sandwich in front of you. You felt their arm settle across your shoulders. You smelled Newt and he smelled like home, and so you pushed away your shame and leaned into him.

He didn’t say anything. He just held you, and when you wrapped your arms around his waist, he let you hold him. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, right by your ear. The ghost of his lips hovered a hair’s length from your skin.

Neither of you said a word.

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Drunk in Love (Gottrosenali) - Writworm42

A/N: Mik gets very, very drunk and acts even dumber than usual. His boyfriends come to reign him in. TW for heavy alcohol use/drunkeness. Thank you x1000000 to Holtz for beta-ing <3 title from Drunk in Love by Beyonce.

Rosé had never thought of himself as old, not really. Sure, he jokes about it, especially on days where he sleeps wrong and strains his neck or his back hurts for no reason, or nights where he just can’t keep his eyes open past eleven. But he can still party, still drink, still recovers quickly from even the most stunt-heavy gigs. So he’s not old, or so he used to think.

Then he and Denali started dating Mik.

Mik isn’t unreasonable; he’s happy to spend a quiet night at home now and again. But ninety percent of the time, even when he’s not working, he wants to go out to the club or the bar, some friend’s party or some event he saw on Instagram. And that’s fine; Denali and Rosé will come along, make an appearance and have fun for a few hours.

It’s when it’s the fourth night in a row that Mik expects them to be out until 3 AM that’s the real problem. As young and hip as both of them still claim to be, keeping up with Mik is like trying to play tag with the energizer bunny. The kid can drink them both under the table and still be up the next day with only a mild headache, and he can dance in heels for the entire night without needing to take them off. Hell, Rosé has seen Mik up at 4:30 AM before while looking completely unbothered, and when he wakes up at noon the next day he’s not even so much as a little bit groggy.

So it’s no surprise that sometimes, Denali and Rosé have to bow out to recover from the adventures Mik drags them into, instead staying home to watch the news and head to bed early.

Not that that makes them old. It doesn’t.

Really. It doesn’t.

Unfortunately, his body doesn’t seem to agree with him when he’s snapped out of sleep one night by his phone ringing, his eyes sore from the strain of being kept open as he gropes around in the dark for the source of the blaring noise.

“Wha—Rosie?” Denali stirs beside him, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he sits up and watches Rosé answer the call.

“It’s 2 o’clock in the morning, Kandy, what could you possibly need?” he hisses, too tired and pissed to care if Kandy hears him clearly over the thumping music in the background.

“You need to come get your man!” Kandy practically screams, causing Rosé to jerk back and bring his phone away from his ear. “Like, now!”

Jesus Christ.

Rosé is about to ask what Mik has done, but he’s cut off by screaming in the background, a very familiar one that he instantly recognizes as his boyfriend’s.

“ Whozzat Kandlee whozzit whozzit OH MY GOD IS IT PIZZA? Gagged oh my gag, I want pizza can you call pizza make it extra pep—Pepe—fuck, just make it cheese—“

Rosé pinches the bridge of his nose when the next thing he hears is a series of thuds and then a little WHOO followed by peals of Mik’s drunken laughter.

“We have to go get him, don’t we?” Denali flops back down onto his pillow with a groan, and it almost pains Rosé to nod, poking his partner to get him up again.

“Send me the address, we’ll be there ASAP.”

—

The club is loud and dark, flashes of coloured lights exploding every few seconds but still not quite managing to illuminate much more than the silhouettes of people packed into every square inch of the room, dancing against each other or standing with drinks in hand, yelling over the beat vibrating the floor under Rosé’s feet as he walks. Behind him, Denali’s hand squeezes his shoulder, the other man holding on tightly so as not to get lost as they scan through the chaos to try and find their boyfriend.

Not that they have to look for long; they’re only about halfway through the dancefloor when Mik’s voice catches their ears, loud and hoarse and slurring so much they can hardly understand what he’s screaming.

One look at who he’s screaming at, though, and they already know that whatever’s going on can’t be good.

“Hey, hey, asshole! Hey, I said fight me! Come on, you afraid? Fight me fight me fight me!” Mik is screeching in the face of a man twice his size as he fights against Kandy’s hold, trying to get closer to the guy. To his credit, the stranger doesn’t even bat an eye, just ignores Mik like he’s a fly buzzing around him. Which, size- and muscles-wise, Mik pretty much is.

“Oh, fuck, thank God you guys are here,” Kandy grunts as Rosé and Denali push themselves over to the scene, sighing deeply in tandem as Mik continues to wriggle in his friend’s arms. “I don’t even know what his problem is, he just saw this guy and decided he want to fight him--”

“That’s right, that’s right-- HEY!” Mik catches sight of Denali and Rosé and immediately stills, grinning widely, and for a moment, Rosé thinks it’s over, that just the sight of them has tamed drunk-Mik enough that he won’t antagonize the meathead still miraculously ignoring him any more.

It’s wishful thinking, though, because not even a moment later, Mik is turning back to the guy, eyes narrowing as he hisses, “My boyfriends are here now, they’ll fuck you up, you wait and see--”

Of course, it’s just their luck that it’s that threat that finally wakes the troll, the guy turning to stare at he and Denali and frowning deeply before he puts his drink back down on the bar and stands up from his seat, immediately towering over them.

“Listen, I don’t know what your guys’ problem is--” the man clenches his jaw, fists balling by his sides, and wow , his pecs are huge, like size-of-Mik’s-head huge, and if one of them doesn’t say something fast, Rosé just knows that all four of them are gonna wind up getting thrown through a wall.

So he smiles, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply before stepping forward and laying a hand on the guy’s shoulder.

“Listen, mama. I’m gonna level with you, okay?” He locks eyes with the man, who doesn’t look particularly impressed, but who nonetheless listens as Rosé continues, “It’s two-thirty in the morning. I just got here. My back hurts just standing right now, and I’m going to wake up with a splitting migraine tomorrow. My boyfriend is drunk out of his mind, and between you and me, even when he’s not, he’s an absolute idiot. Neither of us came to fight you. We just wanna take him home, put him to bed, and then possibly ground him for the rest of his life after he wakes up and has nothing but Advil for breakfast tomorrow. What do you say, baby, can you let us off scott-free just this once?” he winks, hoping that seals the deal, and either it works or the man just doesn’t care enough, because he rolls his eyes, breaking free of Rosé’s touch and climbing back into his seat with a huff.

“Whatever, man. Just get his drunk ass home.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be a satisfactory answer for Mik, who finally breaks free from Kandy, surging forward and pointing towards the man.

“Hey, asshole! This isn’t over, I’m gonna--”

Before he can finish, though, Rosé picks the younger boy up and tosses him over his shoulder without another word, ignoring the kicking and screaming and tossing one last apologetic smile and wink to the man before following Denali back through the crowd and out of the club.

The ride home is tense, Denali having to turn up the radio all the way to keep himself awake at the wheel while Rosé attempts to keep a singing Mik from unbuckling his seatbelt to climb up front. Thank God the club isn’t too far from their apartment; by the time they’ve parked, Mik isn’t even singing the same songs as the radio anymore, and the not-so-dulcet screeches aren’t exactly music to Rosé’s ears, especially not this late, when he’s this annoyed.

“Can you just please, please be quiet?” he growls as he unbuckles the younger man, scooping him up again to carry him towards the building’s door. There’s no real need for the request, though; because the minute they reach the elevator, Rosé realizes with a jolt that Mik has gone completely quiet.

“Is he asleep or dead?” Denali peers over as Rosé looks down at the man in his arms, genuinely wondering the same. But then Mik lets out a quiet snore, and both Rosé and Denali breathe out a sigh of relief.

Good; it means tomorrow they’ll be able to kill him themselves.

—

It’s almost eleven o’clock the next morning when Mik finally trudges out of bed, squinting and frowning against the sunlight that trickles in through the kitchen window.

“Well, if it isn’t sleeping ugly,” Rosé teases, grinning in petty delight when Mik doesn’t respond, only flips him off before collapsing into the seat beside him at the table. “Feeling good after last night?”

“I legitimately feel like I’m going to die.” Mik groans, putting his head down on the table in front of him.

“Here, have some water instead.” Denali suggests kindly, coming around the kitchen counter to put down a large glass full of ice water in front of the younger man, followed by an extra-strength Advil and extra-strength Tylenol tucked in a napkin. Mik takes them both in one big swig, gulping down the water like he’s found a stream in the desert and not stopping until the glass is empty save for the few cubes he hasn’t sucked into his mouth to crunch on.

“Was I really that drunk?” Mik asks, wincing at the tiny thump the glass makes as he sets it back down on the table. “‘Cause honestly, you guys, I don’t remember any of it, but I don’t usually get this hungover--”

“When we came to pick you up, a dude the size of Everest was about to pound your ass into the ground, and not in the good way, so yes, you really were that drunk.” Rosé snorts, and he has to admit, it’s kind of satisfying to see Mik’s eyes bug out of his head when he realizes the trouble he’d caused, the danger he’d put himself--and, by extension, Rosé, Denali, and Kandy--in.

“Holy shit,” he starts, “Guys, I’m—“

“We know,” Denali ruffles Mik’s hair before walking back into the kitchen, opening the fridge and scanning its contents, “It’s okay.”

“As long as you’re safe.” Rosé affirms, and as much as he wants to keep being bitter, he means it—he really would take a thousand sleepless nights for the man sitting beside him.

“Thanks for understanding.” Mik sighs out in relief, leaning back in his chair.

In the kitchen, Denali begins to take food out of the fridge, placing coconut oil, flour, and vegan bacon on the counter, and Rosé can’t help but roll his eyes and smile when he sees Mik eye the ingredients hungrily.

“Tell you what, baby, how bout you go back to sleep, and we’ll call you when breakfast is ready, ‘kay?”

Mik just nods, licking his lips, before standing up and beginning to head back towards the bedroom. He stops, though, when he hears Rosé’s voice piping up one more time.

“Oh, and Kade?” Rosé’s petty streak comes back just a little when Mik freezes at hearing his real name, satisfaction tickling at Rosé’s chest when Mik turns around to face him again, swallowing hard.

“Yeah?”

“You ever pull that shit again, Kandy’s stuffing your ass in an Uber and you’re sleeping on the couch.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gottmik #denali foxx #rosé #denali x gottmik x rosé #canon compliant #sluff #poly #s13 #writworm42

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