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nolita-fairytale · 8 months

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don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter five: the honeymoon pt. 2

summary: you and carmy enjoy the last few days of your mini-moon.

warnings: light smut, husband!carmy who comes with a warning label of his own, swearing, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 3.2k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist (mentioned song - lizzy mcalpine's 'dancing queen' cover)

a/n: hi cuties. here is part two of the honeymoon in chicago. i will be writing an epilogue to finish out this series, then my focus will be back on the world of 'burn your life down.' please enjoy all of this fluffy, lovey dovey content because these two deserve.

part four | masterlist | epilogue

This feels right, you think to yourself, stretching out in the abnormally large bath tub that overlooks the Chicago River. This being the bath, your honeymoon, the non-stop sex between you and your insatiable husband.

You’re up to your shoulders in bubbles, the temperature of the water just the right amount of hot, and you’ve got to admit that you need a recovery bath from the last night or so.

“You gonna join me in here or what?” you ask Carmy, a flirtatious smile on your face as you steal a glance his way.

He sits facing you, a few inches away on the floor of the bathroom, the sketchbook that you got him as a wedding gift laying in his lap as he continues to make furious strokes with one of the wildly-expensive-yet-worth-it pens that you purchased in addition to the sketchbook.

“Nah,” Carmy exhales, the corners of his lips curving up into a smile as he looks at you like you might disappear. “I just wanna look at you a little longer.”

“I know it’s kind of our thing now. But maybe tomorrow night?” he offers up, half apologetically. You shake your head, as if to let him know it’s no problem, and Carmy returns his attention over to what he’s sketching.

“Watcha workin’ on over there?” you ask, curiously, in reference to the broad strokes of pen on paper that you can hear.

“It’s a surprise,” he answers almost too quickly, his focus unbroken as he keeps his head down, buried in whatever it is he’s drawing.

You inhale deeply, letting out your breath on an even deeper exhale and it feels as if you’re melting into the warm bubbles that surround you.

“I’m just glad you’re drawing again. You always seem to light up when you do it,” you sigh, settling into the comfort of your bath, even though you now have to accept that Carmy won’t be joining you tonight.

You close your eyes, listening to the sound of your bubble bath playlist that plays over the speakers of your phone – the easily recognizable voice of Leon Bridges filling your ears as your shoulders relax.

“Why don’t you draw something? For our next tattoo,” you suggest, your eyes beginning to close.

“God, I love you so much,” is Carmy’s reply, without missing a beat.

Opening one eye, you sit up slightly to get a good look at Carmy, shooting a quizzical look his way.

“Well, yeah. But are you referencing anything in particular this time?” you giggle, peering over the edge of the tub in hopes of getting a look at what he’s sketching. Carmy tuts, clutching the sketchbook close to his chest so that he’s sure you can’t see.

The two of you exchange a look, then a laugh, before you resign yourself, sinking back into the tub. Carmy can’t take his eyes off of you, watching you close yours. He looks down at his sketchbook, the image of you in the bathtub, your hair tied up in a messy bun on top of your head beginning to take shape on the page. With deep blue eyes full of love, he finally answers your previous question with:

“You encourage me to dream, baby.”

A beat.

“It’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

You inhale again, peeking one eye open just for a moment as you grin.

“I love you too, Bear. So, so much.”

You take another breath, and a beat, before reiterating, “And I meant what I said. You should draw something for our next tattoo.”

“You really want my scribbles on your body forever?” he asks, skeptically, completely discrediting the talent that you know he knows he has.

“I married you, didn’t I?” you shoot back with a shrug.

He snorts out a laugh, shaking his head incredulously.

“Don’t know if that’s the same.”

“Seriously, Bear. I know we talked about maybe adding some ink to mark this chapter of our relationship… but I really want you to draw it. You don’t have to make up your mind now but, just think about it, okay?” you continue, this time opening both of your eyes to look at him – just so he knows that you mean it.

“Sure,” he nods hesitantly. “Uh… yeah. I’ll think about it.”

You hum along to your playlist as the song changes, and Carmy returns his attention to his sketchbook, stealing glances your way as he continues to work on his drawing of you. You swear you’ve slipped into the kind of relaxed state that yogis traveling to an ashram for the first time can only dream of, as both you and Carmy settle into a comfortable and quiet rhythm.

Carmy hasn’t felt this inspired in a long time – noting that he hasn’t felt this relaxed in a long time either – and he’s more than willing to admit that it’s all the love (and all the sex, because it’s certainly not hurting) that’s sparked this creative kick. He was nervous before, before checking into the hotel earlier today, that maybe he wouldn’t be able to relax – the idea of going to the spa with you tomorrow is still absolutely terrifying – but it’s moments like these that remind him that he may not be so bad at this whole relaxing thing after all.

It could be minutes, hours, days when you decide to get out of the tub – having lost track of time entirely since you checked in at the Langham hotel. Without saying anything, you pull the plug on the bathtub, allowing it to drain as you stand up, grabbing for the fluffy, plush white hotel towel.

And you know that you could put on a robe, just like Carmy, but you have a better idea.

You’ve been saving the little white slip dress that Natalie bought you for just the right moment, and you think this might be it. You can feel Carmy’s eyes on you as you disappear from the bathroom, leaving him where he sits on the floor, and back into the bedroom in search of where you hung the slip dress earlier this evening.

You wonder how long it will take – if he’ll follow you back into the bedroom – but he doesn’t, so you take your time drying off. The white slip dress slides off of its hanger easily. You pull it over your head, allowing it to settle gently over your frame, noticing just how softly it drapes over your figure.

Nat really nailed it with this one, you think to yourself, the pads of your feet hitting the ground as you head back into the bathroom to hang up your robe.

Carmy’s gotten up off the floor, having carefully set his sketchbook down on the long counter, confident in the way he stands, waiting for you. He watches you like a hawk as you begin hanging your robe on the back of the door, a smirk beginning to form on his face.

“What?” you ask, because you know exactly what he’s thinking without even having to look at him.

“Nothin,” he answers, cheekily.

As you turn around, Carmy’s taking a step towards you. You busy yourself with taking your hair back down, watching your reflection in the mirror as Carmy approaches, coming up behind you. You can feel his hands slide along your hips, pulling you towards him as he begins to leave soft kisses on the tops of your shoulders.

“Jus’ wanted to let you know how beautiful you are,” he mumbles in between kisses, pressing his hips against your ass. “That’s all.”

“That’s all? You’re insatiable, Carm. You know that?” you ask him with a giggle, watching him in the mirror this time.

“Oh come on,” he counters you. “You knew exactly what you were doing.” You moan as soon as you feel one of his hands bunching up the material of your dress, his lips curving into a smile against your skin as he hears you. “Putting this on for me.”

“Baby,” you sigh happily, beginning to understand just how fun a honeymoon is supposed to be.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” he begins to tease you, moving your hair to one side of your neck.

“Remember when we snuck into a dressing room…” he continues you, his piercing blue eyes bearing into your soul through the mirror image – just like that night. “... during the James Beard Awards…”

“How could I forget?” you gasp, his teeth nipping at the soft skin of your neck. “It was Syd’s first win and neither of us could wait till we got home.”

You remember it well, especially now, as Carmy begins to grind his hips into your ass, his eyes pleading with you in the reflection, begging you to let him fuck you.

“Friday night and the lights are low…”

You smile, as soon as you recognize the lyrics to one of your favorite songs. Only this time, it’s nothing like the version you and your best friends sang at karaoke night, this version done as an intimate, acoustic singer-songwriter cover. Carmy’s hands are patient, slowly exploring your body as you turn around to face him, surprising him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He sends you a questioning look and you smile back as you lean in, placing your mouth over his in a messy kiss.

“I love this song,” you whisper against his lips, pulling him in for another kiss as you press your body closer to his. “Dance with me, Carm.”

“Yeah?” he asks, with a single, amused raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you answer with a smirk. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Instead of answering (or protesting, considering he had his sights set on fucking you up against the bathroom counter), he just embraces you, holding you close to him as the two of you sway back and forth to the song, exchanging heated kisses. It’s here, in the midst of a push and pull of desire, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe and the slip dress his sister bought you, that you and Carmy have your first dance as man and wife.

It’s exchanged kisses, teasing remarks, and eager hands till the very end of the song, both of your feet coming to a halt, too consumed with the passionate makeout that Carmy’s engaged you in this time. Your hands travel to where his robe is tied closed, beginning to open it as your breathing picks up.

“Think we can count that as a first dance?” Carmy asks, in between kisses, his lips moving at a feverish, more desperate pace this time.

“Definitely,” you reply, the softness in his eyes matched so well with the softness of the music. It’s then that you kiss him again, your mouth beginning to trial south every time you return to him.

“Baby,” he moans, as he watches you kiss lower and lower, anticipating what comes next.

“Said I’d make it worth your while. And right now, I want to go down on my husband,” you rasp, your voice low and sultry as you drop to your knees.

Carmy moans as soon as he feels your mouth on him, your tongue coming out just to taste the tip of him. His right hand tangles in your hair, beginning to grasp at the back of your head as he lets out a:

“Fuck.”

———————————

Your vintage lace slip dress, plucked from the ground where it was carelessly thrown the night before, and Carmy’s denim jacket draped over your shoulders.

That’s what he wakes up to, Carmy, your husband, as you climb back onto the bed, having left your brown paper bag filled with all kinds of goodies on the nightstand next to him.

It may seem silly, bringing his denim jacket considering you barely planned on leaving the room, but he brought it for moments like this, when he knew you’d inevitably want to wear something of his while heading down to explore the rest of the hotel.

“Think you’ll even need that?” you’d asked as you watched him pack his bag for this weekend.

“Gotta be prepared, babe. You’ve been stealing my clothes since day one,” he had pointed out, making it clear that he was only packing options at this point. You’d giggled, making a comment about how considerate your then-husband-to-be was and a declaration that you were nothing if not consistent.

“Good morning, my love,” you say as you climb onto the bed, settling at the foot.

Carmy just smiles dreamily, his curls a wild, beautiful mess, as he sits up, reaching for your hands so that he can pull you over him. You smile, leaving a quick good morning kiss on his lips as you mutter something about morning breath.

“Fuck off. You love me,” he teases in response, laying back down.

“Fuck off. I do,” you parrot him, nodding happily, as you settle over him, straddling his hips.

With your hands still in his, Carmy brings your conjoined hands up to his lips, leaving a kiss to each knuckle, his eyes fixed to yours, his focus unbroken. He smirks, seeing you in his denim jacket, just like he predicted. It looks damn good on you and there’s something so primal about the way he feels when you wear his clothes – the fact that you’d showcase to the world that you’re his stirs something inside of him that feels intoxicating.

“I went downstairs to the hotel cafe. Got a few pastries and coffee for us,” you say, as you run your hands up and down his chest.

“Thanks, baby. But I’m not hungry yet,” Carmy replies, something in his voice that tells you he’s got something else in mind. You quirk an eyebrow in his direction, letting out a loud laugh as he flips you over, rolling you onto your back.

“Think we should work up an appetite first.”

“Again?” you giggle, heat pooling between your legs as you think of how he fucked you up against the bathroom counter last night – after you went down on him.

Instead of answering, he captures your mouth with his, groaning into the kiss as he lays his body over yours. You could care less about the morning breath as Carmy winds you up with the way he kisses you, the way he touches you, and you’re sighing out in pleasure as his hand slips between your legs.

“Jesus fucking Christ, baby,” he spits through gritted teeth, as soon as he realizes that you’re not wearing any underwear.

“You go down to the cafe like this?”

You smirk, letting out a devious chuckle at his discovery.

Before you can properly answer, Carmy’s fingers are dancing over your wet heat, earning well deserved gasps from you as you buck your hips into his hand, a sudden possessiveness taking over.

“Fuck, Carm,” you groan, knowing exactly how to wind him up. “Yeah. Might have to punish me for it.”

“Think so, sweet girl,” Carmy mutters, before his mouth is on yours again.

———————————

It’s your last night at the Langham hotel and you and Carmy have barely left your room – save for the trip to the pool downstairs. You find yourself curled up with your husband, your head buried in the book you're halfway through in a cozy silk PJ set as Carmy works on something else, a few pages deep into his new sketchbook.

“How’s your book?” he asks, his focus still on the page before him.

“Good,” you answer quietly, looking for a good place to pause. You look over at him, smiling as you notice the very cute face he makes when he’s concentrating.

“Watcha workin’ on?”

A light blush runs across Carmy’s cheeks as he prepares to show you.

“Uh… just been sketchin’ up some ideas… you know. Ever since you asked about, you know… the tattoo,” Carmy answers, suddenly feeling shy about showing you his work.

“Yeah?” you ask, only to be met with a nod as Carmy hands you the sketchbook.

You take it, your eyes eagerly scanning the page, considering it’s the first time since you gave him the gift that he’s let you see anything he’s been working on. You smile, a look of awe in your eyes as you take in all of the little food-related tattoos that he’s drawn up.

“I like this one,” you say, pointing to the nest of spaghetti he’s drawn, clearly meant to be a single portion of carbonara. “I mean, I like all of them… but I like this one.”

“Yeah?” he asks, only a little surprised that you like any of them really.

“Yeah,” you nod in response. You look down at his work, then back up to Carmy before gesturing towards the page. “May I?”

“Uh… sure,” he answers anxiously, the sound of the page turning only magnifying his nerves.

He’s so incredibly talented that it hurts, and it’s not till you get back to the very first page, the one where he's drawn you in the bathtub that your heart stops.

“Carmy,” you gasp, looking down at the sketch.

“You hate it,” he’s quick to say, offering up a way out, almost too eager to beat you to the punch if that is how you feel.

“Baby, of course I don’t hate it. I-,” you shake your head, marveling at the drawings below as you trace your fingers over the broader strokes of the pen. “It’s just… no one’s ever drawn me before so. I’m kind of… in awe right now.”

Carmy inhales, then lets out the breath on a deep exhale, because he’s drawn you before – considering he’s barely made time for his art in the last five years anyways – and that they just aren’t things he’s shown you yet.

“What do you think?” is all he asks, his eyes searching your face for a reaction.

“I think,” you say, returning his gaze with yours. You can tell that he’s nervous, that this feels extremely vulnerable, and you know exactly how to pivot. “... that you’re incredibly talented… and it’s really, really not fair.”

He laughs.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he replies, brushing off the compliment.

“No, I mean it, Bear,” you harp, making sure he hears you.

“Okay,” he nods, and you know it’s the best you’re going to get when it comes to him accepting your compliment on the spot.

You take a beat, before handing him his sketchbook back, returning your attention to your book as the two of you settle into a quiet rhythm of spending time with each other. This is exactly how you pictured this weekend going – spending time together, doing absolutely nothing, and fucking all day long. You’re not quite ready to go back to real life yet, but you also miss Aioli, and you know you and Carmy have another shot at this when you go on your real honeymoon in a few months.

“Maybe I should bring this with me… you know… on our honeymoon part two,” Carmy says, gesturing towards his sketchbook. It warms your heart to see him so excited, so inspired and relaxed.

“Definitely,” you reply with a smile. “Let’s do it all over again in a few months. When we go to Japan.”

“You wanna take a bath?” you ask, an implied, ‘you said you would join me’ in your voice as you ask the question.

Carmy licks his lips, a small smile threatening the corners of his mouth as he answers,

“Deal.”

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uglygirlstatus · 7 months

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Curious to see how you’d rank every Riverdale musical episode

this ask has been in my inbox for months because I could not make up my mind whatsoever and had to rewatch all musical eps 2x each to decide.

Splitting rankings into categories for my own sake: Songs (ranked on both quality and integration), Plot (entertainment value of the storyline points featured), and Iconry (ratio of special/memorable/iconic lines and scenes)

#6. American Psycho

Songs ⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I remember somehow being underwhelmed when I first watched this because I had really hyped myself up after reading the episode description. But now in a post-50sdale world, I realize how lucky we were with this one. We got SlaughterCon, Cheryl and Kevin hexing Toni and Fangs, Betty being gay, Kevin not warning Betty in advance that he added a bit to his musical number where Doctor Curdle Jr dresses as TBK and then getting visibly annoyed with her when she interrupts it fearing for his life, Betty finally killing TBK and he’s literally just wrapped in duct tape and garbage bags, AS WELL AS Archie’s Labour Union all in one episode. However, since this IS a ranking of musical episodes, I’m afraid I can’t let the incredible plot compensate too much for the lack of strong musical bangers.

Stand out lines:

“It’s your dad’s knife. I bought it on eSlay.”

“Betty Cooper, are you hot for agent Drake?”

“You’re one of us. An American Psycho.”

Not a line but shoutout to Lili Reinhart’s boobs in You Are What You Wear.

#5. Carrie

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Cheryls heavily autotuned explosion into “THATS NOT MY NAAAAAAAME” will forever tickle me. And her finale drenching herself in blood and coming to her mother with the candelabra to threaten burning down their mansion for a second time is one of the top ten Cheryl Blossom moments for all time. Everything about the presence of Alice Cooper also kills me like she is IN this high school musical. Madchen I could listen to pitch correction software fighting for its life against your dulcet tones forever. I read in a Twitter thread by the duo who produces all the Riverdale music that Madchen had literally never sung in her entire life prior to this episode. And they still gave her a solo. Amazing. The plot doesn’t carry as much weight for me in this one but the I love the integration of the music, and it also gave us the first ever Beronica duet and Fifi appearance. Oh and rip Midge!

Stand Out Lines:

“I will not succumb to thespian terrorism!”

“I’m not the same girl who burned down Thornhill.” “Sure you are!”

“Nightmare child, what do you want from me?!”

#4. Next to Normal

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️

This one has real emotional impact okay. It was genuinely moving. I love when the musical episodes tackle a huge range of plot lines and still try to apply the niche musical choice of the season to each of them. We have Cooper grieving & family choreography and spite-Jabitha and Cheryl attacking her mother with song & holy water and Varchie being useless and Britta becoming Cheryl’s little child servant/protege. Reggie is there too. Also all of the music hits for real. It’s a shame that “I Am The One” and “I’m Alive” had so much cut in the ep because the spectres of Polly and Charles are killing it on the harmonies in the full versions. I could listen to Lili Reinhart sing all day long. Above all though I think my favourite part is the uncanny photoshop of Alice and Betty and Polly in front of the Next to Normal Broadway poster.

Stand Out Lines:

“YOU’VE GOT SOME NERVE JUGHEAD, AND I’M JUST ALL NERVES!”

“I’m gonna eat in the garage.”

“You remind me of Hiram Lodge.” “I don’t know who that is. But please, have a Swelligrino for the road.”

#3. Heathers

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Guys It’s so crazy that Midge literally died in the middle of our musical last year. Anyway time for Heathers! Something fun about this episode is that I first watched it before I was fully Riverdalepilled and was still foolishly rolling my eyes at the show while I watched with my mom and sister. I was like “guys Heathers is actually a great musical, it’s going to be hard for me to see what Riverdale does to it”. We began watching and very soon my mom and sister were commenting on the music. It quickly dawned on me that they were complaining about the aspects of the show that were more or less unchanged from the original musical. And I had a great epiphany moment where I realized 1) Heathers is sort of bad 2) if I loved Heathers the musical in earnest then why should I not love Riverdale? Heathers was actually PERFECTLY CRAFTED to be performed by the Riverdale cast. Anyway. This episode had a lot going for it. Lodge divorce arc straight into Veronica partying. Kevin’s sudden perm. Toni’s threesome fake out. Our favourite Chad Michael Murray Rhythmic cult clapping. And of course KJ Apa doing this

Stand Out Lines

“Did you have a lobotomy for breakfast?”

“Here I invented red. I AM red. *snaps*”

“Evelyn called a closed rehearsal for select members in the Gargoyle Chamber.”

#2. Archie the Musical

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one had EVERYTHINGGGGGGGG. Fun with the meta narrative and original songs mixed with covers taken from various obscure and specific sources and by far some of the most fun choreography and sets of all musical episodes since they were able to be so free with it. Seeing Gay Kevin back in his natural habitat of directing the school musical was so heartwarming. Jughead and Reggie quitting immediately. Archie going left. And Archie going right. Bisexually. Julian demolishing Archie vocally every chance he gets. And knowing it. Also every single facial expression and mannerism that Julian has in this episode is god tier. Actually kj apa too. Actually also Lili and Camilla. SANDWICH? The loudest in-song sound effects we’ve ever experienced. Archie the happiest he’s ever been in his life on the back of Toni’s bike. BERONICA - PRIMAL AND INTENSE! My review is barely coherent because this one does fill me with silly giddy joy. Plot loses a star because how the hell are we expected to care about Gay Kevin’s divorcing parents. I know “ohh suffering isn’t a competition ohhh” Ethel just watched her parents get murdered by a milkman and no one sang for her.

Stand Out Lines:

“I don’t wanna be a drip, but it’s super distracting when my understudy is singing literally at the same time as me!”

“You completely captured the longing of being in a queer, interracial relationship in the 1950s.”

“Maybe there are other more emotionally complex mountains to climb.”

“The new Archie, Julian, he’s even better than the real Archie!”

#1. Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

On a 9 hour flight to Europe in the Summer I had all the Riverdale musical eps downloaded to rewatch and then noticed that among the plane’s complimentary movie selections was the original movie of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, which was pure kismet. I decided to watch the movie for the first time prior to rewatching the Riverdale ep and I was blown away. Knowing the context of all the songs and musical they chose to include in the episode made everything so much more insane. The song about feeling like a stranger in your body after surgical malpractice being used for the Bughead conflict over Juggie prioritizing mysteries over finishing high school and Varchie conflict over Archie not telling Veronica about her dad’s epic fail at the gym. 20? something year old gay Kevin proclaiming WE ARE GENERATION Z before jumping into Random Number Generation. The BIZARRELY spliced version of the best ever rendition of Origin of Love all for BARCHIE FODDER?!? Actually all the rest of the songs were perfectly fitting no notes. Anyway hallway full of students in Hedwig drag one of the top Riverdale shots ever though I forever mourn KJ Apa’s absence. At least he got to kiss a man in this one. The plane hit turbulence while I watching the Midnight Radio scene but I was so happy witnessing it in that moment that I thought to myself “it would be ok if I died right now”.

Stand Out Lines:

“Writing a book report? Now I know how Sisyphus must have felt.”

“It celebrates identities, genders, expressions of all kinds.”

“[scoffs] How queer-phobic of you.”

“There’s a problem that comes once you get caught up on your homework. Your mind wanders and evil creeps back in.”

I was convinced Archie the Musical would come out on top for me due to the obscene level of euphoria I felt upon first experiencing it but after intensive review I do have to say Hedwig wins. Ultimately I miss the original timeline that much and I am all for the events that eventually tear apart everyone’s relationships and most of all it gave us Origin of Love full version Riverdale cast edition. But know that it is so so so so so close between the two. And honestly really all 6 are close in my heart as this exercise reminded me just how much the musical episodes are to watch and rewatch.

#idk why I treated this like a life or death question #riverdale #t #ask #riverdale musical ranking #long post

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rorywritesjunk · 6 months

Text

For these foamy green hills are but saltwater desert

Richie, Mohji’s lion, isn’t doing so well. The crew end up at a small island with a dwindling population to seek help and Buggy meets Midori, the mayor who is far more stubborn and trusting with his crew than he can really comprehend.

Rating: PG-13, gonna have smut at some point later though. Warnings: Buggy being obnoxious, of course. I’d call this a fast paced slow burn. It takes the place over the course of the week and days are split into two chapters. There’s also some drama and other pirates. A/N: Full confession. I honestly wrote this because I have been watching the anime and Richie is one of the best characters. Do I know a lot about the anime? No. Is some of this chaotic and characters OOC? Of course! It’s a fanfic. Is it self indulgent? Hell yes. I had fun writing this and wanted to share it. Also, I wrote this more with anime!Buggy in mind since we don’t get to see Richie in the live action.

Title comes from the song “Dryad’s Promise” by Tricky Pixie. this gif is here just because this is Buggy's expression around Midori 90% of the time

Chapter 4

Day 2 pt 2

Buggy returned in the mid-afternoon to find some members of his crew mending one of Midori’s fences. He stood and watched them for a moment, confused by what he was seeing. They were fixing something? It wasn’t normal, they were pirates, they destroyed things, not fixed things! He didn’t see her around so he headed to her house. It wasn’t hard to find her, she was in the kitchen with a big pitcher of iced lemonade. She perked up when he walked in.

“Can you grab that tray of cups?” She asked as she finished stirring the drink. “Some of your guys came to help me with my fence while you were gone, so I wanted to make sure they were thanked.”

Buggy didn’t budge, instead glaring down at her. She looked up from her task and pointed at the tray. “Please?”

“Why do you have them fixing your fence?!” He demanded, pounding his fist on her kitchen table. She jumped at that and the lemonade sloshed around in the pitcher. “We destroy villages, you know, we don’t fix fences for crying out loud!”

“Well… I didn’t ask them to help.” She told him calmly as she once again pointed at the tray for him to grab. “I had already started when they walked up and offered, said I was a nice person to let them stay on the island. They took over the job so I came in here to make them a drink. Now, can you grab the cups and follow me out there? I can’t grab both.”

He grumbled in frustration but did as he was asked, sulking as he followed her back out to the others. They cheered at having a cold drink, thanking Midori as well as thanking their Captain. Once Midori made sure they had their fill, she collected the empty cups and headed back to her kitchen with Buggy following close on her heels. She set the dishes down beside the sink and turned to face him. He had gotten closer than he meant to, only a foot from her, and he took a step back.

“Listen, Buggy, I can see you’re not used to being around someone who isn’t a part of your crew, but stop talking to me like that.” She said as she took a step towards him and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “I know you’re a pirate, you have made that very clear, but there is more to you and your crew than just being pirates you know! You have very skilled men out there fixing my fence and they are doing a better job at it than I would have done! Now please stop talking to me like I’m up to no good, okay?”

She was breathing rather heavily after that, her finger still pressed against his chest as she stared up at him. Buggy grabbed her by her wrist, his touch far gentler than she was expecting. He pulled her closer and she stumbled, putting her other hand on his chest to keep from falling into him. She huffed in annoyance and pulled back from him while he smirked at her. She felt her cheeks burn, but she wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of being close to him, to actually touching him, or because his damn smirk was annoying her,

“Nice to see you get frustrated.” He chuckled as he let go of her wrist finally. “Thought you just were always happy go lucky, Mayor. Glad to see you have other emotions.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I have a lot of emotions, Captain.”

“Yea?” He smirked. “Hopefully I can see the full range before the week is over then.”

The five children on the island adored Richie already. The lion allowed them to ride on his back, which stunned Buggy, because he thought only Mohji was allowed to do that. The pirate captain was standing outside, arms crossed as he watched the kids with a frown. Mohji was there to keep an eye on everything, but Richie was having fun. He really was just a big kitten when it came down to it, only being destructive and ferocious when the situation called for it. He was loving the attention.

“Stop frowning, the kids won’t want to come near you.” Midori said as she came up behind him, startling him, though he tried not to show it. She patted him on the shoulder. “Unless you want the kids to be scared of you, then keep frowning.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, jerking away from her touch. “You know that lion is dangerous, right? He could destroy your village with one command from Mohji.”

“Yea, I know.” Midori replied, voice just a bit tired sounding. “Because you’re pirates, and that’s all pirates do, destroy and plunder.” Buggy glanced at her and she smiled. “Good thing I don’t have much of a village here for you to destroy or any treasure to plunder.”

Buggy looked sulkily back at the lion. He was rolling in the grass now while one of the kids picked flowers, weaving it into a crown. Buggy was going to scream if that crown ended up on Richie, but instead the kid ran over to Midori, holding it up for her. She smiled and knelt down so the kid could crown her.

“Thank you, Oak! It’s beautiful.” She squealed excitedly as Oak made sure it sat on her head just right. Midori looked up at Buggy with a smile. “How does it look, Captain?”

“Um, it’s… fine.” He mumbled, not wanting to mention how the color of the flower petals complemented her eyes, or how the green stems looked lovely against her hair. “Good job, kid.”

Oak beamed. “We’re gonna make more for the feast! The whole crew can wear’em!”

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Midori beamed. “I can’t wait for that!”

The kid grinned widely and took off running. Midori bumped her shoulder against Buggy’s gently. “And when these kids say the whole crew, they mean the captain as well. I’ll make sure they use the biggest and best flowers for you.”

Buggy’s cheeks reddened and he reached up to flick one of the flowers of her crown. “What makes you think I’ll wear it?”

“Because even for a scary pirate, I don’t think you can deny five children begging you to wear a flower crown.” Midori chuckled. “It’s impossible.”

She was still wearing the crown as she made dinner. Buggy sat back and watched her as he sipped a beer. She was humming that song again, the one she didn’t know the lyrics to, and he listened, wanting to commit it to memory so he could hold it over her head should he ever learn the lyrics before she did. He made a face after he thought that. After this week he wouldn’t see her again. He didn’t need to remember anything about her, this place, anything.

He had been on the island two days and already it felt like a lifetime. Why did he agree to a week? It should have just been a few days. Richie was already better so why did they need to stay? He looked down at his drink and cleared his throat.

“I think the crew and I will head out tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Midori stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him. “What was that?”

He looked up at her and paused. She was drying her hands with her apron, the flower crown still sitting perfectly on her head as it did hours ago. She looked… wonderful. She had this pull towards her that made Buggy realize he wanted to stay those extra few days, even if it was just to annoy her and argue with her. She had a smile on her face as she turned her attention to him.

“I said…” Buggy took another sip. “Uh… the moon should be out tomorrow, and the stars. We should… go look at it. You have some nice viewing spots on this rock you call an island.”

Midori perked up and smiled brightly. “Yea? Do you know the constellations? I’ve struggled to remember which ones are which.”

“Yea, yea, I know’em.” Buggy grumbled as he set his drink down. “We’ll do it tomorrow, just pack a snack for us.”

“I will!”

Buggy laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He egged her on again during dinner and she did the same to him, but it was hard to stay frustrated with her when she wore the flower crown. He saw her put it in her ice box after she cleaned up after dinner. He had finished his second beer before getting up to help her clean. She didn’t protest at all and he went to work washing dishes.

He held his hands up and looked at them. The same hands that maimed and killed people, even his own crew sometimes, washed dishes. Willingly! And he didn’t break a single one either. What was going on? He was a pirate, he needed to be out destroying villages with the Buggy Balls while the crew ransacked them. He needed to be collecting treasure, not taking her out to see the damn stars.

But there was something simple about being on the island as well. The villagers knew they were all pirates, it was no secret, but they welcomed them in and fed them. The little bar in the village made more berry from the crew than they ever had before. And Richie was already thriving. Just a short time off the boat and he was back to his lively self. Buggy was ready to order the crew back on the ship by tomorrow, but he needed to spend a bit more time with Midori. He wanted to figure her out, rile her up some more before they left.

And now he was going to venture out into the night with her to look at the damn stars tomorrow night. Why did he offer that? But she was so excited, and there was a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach when he saw her smile after he mentioned it. Maybe he was getting sick from all her cooking already. Maybe it was slow acting food poisoning.

Or maybe…

He rolled onto his side and covered his face with his pillow as his cheeks burned. No, no. He just met her. She drove him crazy with her stubbornness and insistence that she wouldn’t ever leave the island. He had no feelings for her except annoyance. Sure, she was pretty, and he was starting to enjoy seeing her smile whenever he’d tell her a dumb joke or a funny story, but it wasn’t anything else. It couldn’t be anything else. No one fell in love that fast ever. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t in love. He was incapable of it, he knew it.

He had to stop getting her to smile so much.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you

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duckletranslations · 2 years

Text

Ariadne Ch 16 - Epilogue 2

Season: Fall

Rinne: ….Everyone, y’all feelin’ the hype?

The Ariadne Live is coming to its climax! Now it’s finally time to show “that” off ♪

Kohaku: The song we’re about to sing, it was the hot issue during The Minotaur’s Labyrinth: based on the original song “Ariadne’s Thread,” this one’s called “Ariadne at my Fingertip.”

HiMERU: As you may have seen in the program, HiMERU chose both the Door of the Past and the Door of the Future.

Even though unfortunately, the Door of the Past could not be opened.

Thanks to all of your support, a new song based off of “Ariadne’s Thread” was able to be created.

Niki: For real, this song was possible thanks to Crazy:B and all the fans! I’ll sing as hard as I can to reach your hearts~ ♪

Rinne: So, we’ll get ready and come back! Just wait a bit~ ♪

HiMERU: (The stillness before singing, it only ends up making the heartbeat’s sound clearer.)

(The people in the audience have probably watched the digest video of The Minotaur’s Labyrinth.)

(Thinking about it again, the studio bus that we rode in the beginning was dark like this as well.)

(If we call that the entrance to the labyrinth, the real exit is here.)

(The darkness just before being enveloped in the light of the live venue—that nightmare, is the opposite of that dream happening now?)

(Not as “me,” but as HiMERU, he will do his best to sing.)

—Shiina, are you ready?

As in the lessons, you and HiMERU appear first in this song, alluding to what happened in The Minotaur’s Labyrinth. The two of us must be in perfect sync.

Niki: I’m A-OK! To make up for how I couldn’t on the show, this time I’ll match you perfectly~ ♪

….Ah, before that,

I’m hungry, so I’m gonna stock up on some calories for a bit!

HiMERU: ….Pardon?

Niki: You wanna eat some too, HiMERU-kun? They’re tasty, these cookies ♪

HiMERU: Cookies before singing. Would your throat not become dry?

Niki: Mm~ Is this not allowed? This cookie is so full of calories, it’s just right. I thought it would be okay because with this, I won’t get hungry even after a long lasting live~ ♪

Back at Hot Limit, there were food stalls, also plenty of other shows underway, so our turn was short. But it’s not like that this time ♪

HiMERU: ….Naturally. Shiina is Shiina. Perhaps it would be safer that way.

Should HiMERU too, sing like HiMERU?

HiMERU: ♪ ~ ♪ ~ ♪

Niki: ♪ ~ ♪ ~ ♪

…Nyahaha. HiMERU-kun, you’re in the zone more than ever ~ ♪

I’ll try my best to match you even better than at the lesson!

Niki: The lessons were hard and burned my calories, and what’s worse, I even had to appear on a weird variety program, but—

Accepting even a glutton like me, that’s Crazy:B.

This song that you like, HiMERU-kun, I want to finish it while doing my very best.

HiMERU: —Fufu. It looks like you are making quick on getting in sync, Shiina.

And it’s not just you. Amagi and Oukawa too.

Rinne: Heheh, that goes without saying ♪

Kohaku: This’s a song of us Crazy:B. HiMERU-han can’t be the only one showin’ off his finest self!

Rinne & Kohaku: ♪ ~ ♪ ~ ♪

HiMERU: ♪ ~ ♪ ~ ♪

(Are you listening, “HiMERU”. The one and only, the best idol "I" have chosen.)

(You may still be wandering in a labyrinth with no end in sight right now. However, “I” will be waiting on the shining stage.)

(Until then, “I” will keep “Ariadne’s Thread.” It is a solo song, but also a song of the two of us, “HiMERU” and “I.”)

(So please. Grab onto it. The other end of the thread that’s tied to this fingertip.)

(Grab it, and hold tight. Until you climb out. I’ll keep watching over the place where you’ll be.)

(Before then, it won’t hurt to get along with these friends for a while.)

(In this unit that has anything, where “I” can just be “myself” …… ♪)

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schizo2709 · 1 year

Text

......the what now? Like, will you ever be able to correctly guess what you’re gonna get with him? ...No, probably not... 🖤🌹🖤🌹🖤🌹🖤

youtube

When the Whole World Forgets about Me

If I could silence the world

Don’t wake up from my dream

If I could stop the music

Ah ah ah listen to me

If I could go back to that moment

Sing my favourite song again

If we could continue with passion

Just let me be stubborn till the end

One more second, cheers surround me

In this moment, intoxicated, forgetting myself

One more time, scream and shout, remind me

The one who is loved is me

If that light chases me

Can you please really light me up

If the fireworks burn out and fall

Don’t find me in the scattered ashes

If it is only me left on stage

Hoarse, the audience is full of loneliness

If the crowd is gone, it’s too lonely

Can you give me a mirror and let me be with me

Everyone hugs me back happily (???????)

Tell me to forget the gorgeous paragraph (?????????)

When I look back, I want to find the clue of happiness

The light stretches my shadow and escapes me

All the past, see through me and abandon me

Leave a song that berates me

Let the world forget that I ever existed

Please don’t try to save me again

If I could silence the world

Don’t wake up from my dream

If this show ends

I will forget me after

Machine translation with what makes...at least somewhat sense to me in English but I’m sure some of the lines are way off! As soon as we’ve got translations by the usual suspects I’ll post these! 💖

#hua chenyu #华晨宇 #華晨宇

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merccurious · 1 year

Text

When my Anxiety Took Over my Tumblr

hi there reader, i’m dhea’s anxiety. today, i will take over her tumblr for a while because she’s just don’t have anything to write.

i've seen her operating this thing a while ago but i'm not sure how is it going... i hope i won't blow up her mac because she's going to get rid of me for sure if i did.

oh, where is dhea, if you might ask?

if you’re curious. she’s fine. she’s just not here—technically. she’s inside; sitting in the corner of her mind. she loses it a few weeks ago. i know, i know, it’s all because i decided to showed up in the middle of nowhere and take over her mind. but please bear with me for a few minutes okay? it’s actually kinda lonely there—in the corner of her mind, i mean. she definitely put me there for a few months and i can see that she’s happier. but i got bored just sitting around the corner, so i fight her self-esteem and voilá! here i am.

dhea is gonna be okay. she knows it. she just don’t wanna fight back like she used to do. she actually let me control her. and that is the strange part. she didn’t do anything to wipe my ass from her mind like she used to do. i mean… she used to clean her room all day, going to extra work (i hate this one because her mind gonna be so tired and it doesn’t even have time for my shit so she’s gonna go to sleep after those long days of work), listening to the full album of john mayer, go to a therapist and talk for hours, consume all those sleeping pills & anti-depressant stuff to make her sleep a little longer, going to some solo trips to some cities and burn all her savings just to get rid of me. but this time… she’s just sitting there calmly and watch me took over her mind. at some point, i’m so happy to having her mind without any distractions. but it still feel weird.

what did i do to dhea? oh, not a biggie. sometimes, i’m just gonna popped all the bad memories about her parents’ divorce, her dad death, her bullies on middle school, her boyfriend’s betrayal, her failure at work, etc. then i’m gonna go with constant what ifs; made her thought that the world might be the better place without her. or maybe, if she’s disappeared, she didn’t have to feel any of this painful shit in her life. and she’s going to cry herself until 4am, then get up at 6am to go to work. where am i when she’s in the office? oh, i’m still there but she’s trying so hard to hide me. that’s why you always saw her as a very happy woman after everything she’s been thru. jokes on you.

i usually showed up at weekend. that’s why dhea ALWAYS prefer to stay at home on the weekend. because on the weekend, she don’t have any energy to hide me. what did she do when i showed up? usually, she’s just stare blankly at her room with a lot of thoughts. or sometimes, she forced herself to cry by listening to some sad songs or read some sad books, or watching some sad movies to release all these emotions.

you know why i always have to consume her mind? that’s because a lot of trauma inside of her and she’s too afraid to try another new things—and i’m the one who did it. you know why she’s stop covering songs in her soundcloud? because i made her think that her voice isn’t that good and when people find her page they’ll just gotta mocking her. you know why she always—i mean, ALWAYS, find redflags on every guy who’s trying to be with her? because i made her think that all those guys are just gotta left her so she need to pushed them away before they did it to her. you know why she’s always bottled up her emotions in front of everyone? because i made her think that her feeling wouldn’t matter and they’ll end up laughing at you.

all her trauma makes me consume her mind almost everyday.

even i really like to do that, i really hope she can fight me. consuming her mind for most of times makes me quite tired because it feels like a lot of work. i hope she’ll find the reassurance & help she needs without the need to consume the pills.

dhea if you’re reading this, i just gotta let you know that even you’re hating me so much & you’ve been trying to get rid of me in a thousand ways possible , i DO really hope that someday in the future i’m gonna retired from consuming your life while sitting in the corner of your mind while watching you being happy with your life.

and i hope that time gonna come sooner.

stay strong, warrior.

okay that’s it from me. dhea is going to get herself together so i have to hide again. thank you for reading, pals. i hope i won’t see you guys again. love ya!

Regards,

Dhea’s Anxiety.

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lemons3ason · 3 years

Text

Family (Modern AU)

(Gyomei Himejima x Reader)

Warnings ⚠️: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, Smut, breeding kink, dirty talk, stomach bulge, overstimulation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always felt strange when you went to pick up Gyomei from work, the children were just so sweet and caring to him. He would be such a wonderful father, he was already a wonderful husband but you just never knew how to bring up the topic to him. Sure you had shared intimate nights together but he’d never actually cum so you thought you weren’t pleasing him, or he just didn’t love you enough to get you pregnant. You arrived today just a little early getting to say goodbye to the last few children that were leaving, they all hugged you and cheered for your presence knowing full well that you were Gyomei’s wife. The light tapping of his white cane against the ground quickly caught your attention, you smiled seeing your husband’s soft smile as he walked towards you.

“Gyomei, I’m here.”, you called gently putting your foot in the way of his cane so he could tell where you were.

His hand reached up to your face waiting to feel your cheek against his palm, “Hello my love.”, he hummed brushing your lips with his thumb before leaning down to steal a kiss from you.

You giggled against his lips and smiled, your took his free hand in yours and lead him to the car before driving home. He spoke about his day to you, telling you about a fight some of the children had over a toy and how it broke so everyone started to cry. You giggled at how stressed he seemed about the situation, he was practically in tears just thinking about it. You giggled as you both finally arrived home to relax and enjoy the rest of your day together. In just half an hour you were sprawled against Gyomei’s chest softly dozing off to sleep but a single thought kept you awake. You wanted to bring up the idea of children to him but would he actually want to try for a child with someone that’s never pleased him?

“(Y/n) is there something on your mind?”, he asked quietly.

You didn’t know how to form your thought into a sentence but you really wanted to tell him, “G-Gyomei...I-I want a baby. I know I’ve never actually pleased you enough to make you cum but I really really really want a baby with you. Please.”, your shy stuttering and plead came out more like a whine then an actual serious conversation like you wanted but unbeknownst to you it did the trick.

Gyomei’s inner beast had been unleashed due to his sweet wife’s demand and he was more then willing to fulfill her desire.

“You want a baby? Are you sure?”, he hummed his voice suddenly grew deep and seductive.

You became shy due to your demand and pressed yourself against his chest to hide, “Y-Yeah I do...I really do but I don’t want a baby if you don’t. I don’t want to force you or anything I know I’ve never pleased you enough before to actually-“

“Beloved every time I’ve be blessed with the chance to be joined with you I’ve been desperately holding back, your cute little hole is always milking me. I’ve wanted to fill your sweet crevice with my seed since we married but I never wanted to do it if you weren’t ready for me. Now that you want a child I can pour every last drop of my fertile seed into your needy womb and impregnate you, and this time I can ravage you the way I’ve wanted to since our wedding night.”, Gyomei’s words were like a drug to your ears, when did he learn to speak like that?

Before you knew it your large husband had you pinned underneath him, “I’ll ask again, are you sure you want me to make you a mother?”, his erection pressed against your clothed core making you moan to the feeling.

“I-I want you. I want this. I want a baby please.”, you begged softly holding his face in your hands to kiss his lips. Gyomei stripped you feverishly, practically ripping off both of your clothes until you were naked. His sudden roughness made your body scream for him and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. He kissed you, his lips sending a jolt of electricity down your spine as his tongue took over your mouth. His thick fingers firmly grasped the soft flesh of your breasts massaging your chest, his hips bucked into your letting his hardened cock rub against your folds. Being man handled by him was such a new form of excitement for you, you never would have guessed that Gyomei was this needy for you.

“In just a few months these cute breasts of yours will be filled with milk, you’ll let me have a taste when they’re swollen with milk right?”, Gyomei whined moving his lips down to one of your pebbled nipple.

You smiled feeling his chapped lips rub against your breasts, his words and actions ignited a fire inside of you and his only physical proof was your lewd slick that started to puddle against the sheets each time his cock head pressed against your folds. You left a wet stain against his boxers that drove Gyomei insane, he quickly removed his stupid article of clothing and tossed it aside thrusting his cock vigorously against your folds despite it never making it into your snug cunt. At this point you were begging for him, for his cock, you wanted all of it.

“Gyomei, pl-please no prep, I don’t need it just please put it in!”, you cried reaching down for his shaft to push it in.

His lips finally left your breasts as he gently slapped away your hand making you cry in annoyance, “Are you sure you can take it? Most of the time you can only take it half way and then you start to whine that it’s too much. Will you suck it up and take me all in? If you want a baby so badly then you’ll have to take it all. Will you do that for me honey?”, Gyomei growled against making your cunt flutter in excitement.

“Yes. Yes I’ll take it all, I want all of you. I want this.”, you whined wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your desperate kiss was so exciting for him, he wrapped his fingers around the head of his cock gently dragging it against your folds until he felt the tip sink into your spongy cunt and slowly pushed into your core until you couldn’t help but whine. The stretch burned but you wanted him so bad you but your tongue to stay quiet until your body trembled from full feeling in your stomach. The veins of his cock were dragging against your gspot making your legs shake wildly, he chuckled when he finally had the full thing in watching your back arch in pleasure as a dry orgasm washed over your body. You were shaking just from taking in his full length but he honestly didn’t mind, his hand pressed softly against your stomach finding the bulge his fat cock left against your small stomach.

“You feel that (Y/n)? That’s my cock all the way inside of you. Somewhere in here I’ll be fucking my cum into your pretty little womb and filling it up until you pass out and no matter what I won’t stop until I know you’re pregnant. I’m gonna move now and even after you pass out I won’t stop.”, Gyomei smirked gently rubbing your clit with his free hand. He started rutting his cock into you, you whined with each thrust feeling the head reach your special spot repeatedly. The high pitched squeals and moans pouring out of your lips were music to Gyomei’s ears, even if he couldn’t see you he knew he was pleasing you from your cries. His heavy balls slapped against your ass, a reminder that you’d be emptying them out soon until they ran dry. Just a few thrusts inside of your tight cunt were enough to pull his first orgasm out of him. This man needed to relieve a bunch of stress and sex was the best way to do it. You just heard his grunts of pleasure as he bottomed out in you and you cried out feeling the warm ropes of cum filling you. You could feel his body tense with each contraction as he filled you with his first load, it felt like forever but in reality it had only last a minute. Gyomei was just getting started, even if you begged him to stop he wouldn’t because this is something he had been waiting for. As he moved his hips he dragged out his seed only to push it back in deeper then it was before, your moans were just so addicting to listen to. The pounding you’d take hurt at first but with his added cum as lube you couldn’t help but curl your toes in pleasure. This man was really going to make your dream come true and you couldn’t wait.

“Harder Gyomei, I can take it. Promise.”, you whined wrapping your legs around his waist.

He did just that, he forced your knees up to the sides of your head and pounded away into your sloppy cunt like nothing. A high pitched cry slipped past your lips with each pierce his cock made into your tiny body, seeing the bulge in your stomach made you far more excited then it should have.

“Yes that’s it (Y/n), take it. Take all of me. We’re not gonna stop until you’re swollen!”, Gyomei hissed against your ear thrusting away into your slicked cunt. The lewd song of skin on skin, moans, and declarations of love filled the small room, the bed creaked under your intense play but neither of you cared.

“I love you Gyomei.”, you sobbed feeling his cock pierce your cervix.

He moaned against your lips quickly stealing another kiss. One arm propped itself over your head to support his weight, his free hand quickly sank down to your clit rubbing your slick into the swollen bundle of nerves. Your toes curled, your whines became higher and your little pussy was squeezing tighter around his cock if that was even possible. Your body shook violently under him as another orgasm washed over your body, but still even as your contracting walls pushed him out Gyomei buried himself deeper then before. You’d get pregnant for sure. You’d be his sweet little swollen wife and he’d cherish you more everyday.

“Eight.”

“Mmm~ W-what?”, you sighed still shaking from your release.

“Eight times is how much I’m going to fill you, my second load is coming so you better take it. Our baby is going to be made tonight and I’ll make sure of it.”

#demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kny gyomei #gyomei himejima #gyomei x reader #Gyomei x reader smut #Gyomei smut #x reader

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

Can you write about step bro kirishima getting in the shower with you or something along those lines?

(This was supposed to be a Drabble but it’s like??? a one shot bt also a Drabble idek what's going on anymore)

okay a Thot™️ butokei okei oeki hear me out

Friday night, you’re taking a shower and washing off all the grime from the day. The hot water is so relaxing and so you take a bit longer than you normally do, relishing in the heat loosening your tense muscles and flowing over you like a warm hug.

Step bro Kiri barges in, fresh from football practice that ran a little late - the school had been locked up so they couldn’t use the locker rooms. He’s sweaty and tired and he just wants to take a shower and pass out, hadn’t even realized you were in there.

Your hands fly to cover yourself, you yell at him to get out. He closes the bathroom door, but he’s on the wrong side, still inside the bathroom as he locks the door. Then he’s stripping out of his clothes, giving you that sweet, goofy grin.

“Aw, c’mon, can I just jump in with you? I’ll be real quick, promise.”

You shriek at him, still trying to cover yourself. “No! Leave, dude!��

But he just shakes his head, shucks off his jockstrap and you’re turning bright red, averting your eyes to the ceiling so you don’t have to see his dick (But holy cow, he’s huge)

And then he’s stepping in with you, putting his big hands on your shoulders to gently move you to the side so he can get under the spray of hot water. You splutter - what does he think he’s doing, you’re siblings!

You try to verbalize this, but Kirishima just shrugs. “I did it with my dad’s family.”

That elicits a frown. You were pretty sure he was an only child, and his dad had never talked about any other kids. But he wasn’t going to leave, and if it didn’t bother him, if it was normal and routine for him to shower and not be shy about his nakedness....

Still, you try your best to cover yourself as you reach for the conditioner. You’re a bit shy about your body, feel weak and chubby next to Kiri, who’s ripped as all fuck.

You’re battling with insecurity as you turn away from him, face the wall to start putting conditioner in your hair. Next thing you know, your stepbrother has his hands in your hair, scritching and scrubbing and helping you rub in the conditioner.

Body tensing, you make to turn, bat his hands away but then you remember you’re naked, so you stay put. You huff at him as he refuses to let up, hands following you no matter how you move.

“Let me help, it’s the least I can do after intruding on your shower time.”

He washes your hair. Offers to help you scrub down too but you quickly decline. Then he’s handing you the shampoo and conditioner, asks if you wouldn’t mind getting his hair. It always such a pain to wash out all the gel.

His back is turned, you figure it’s not that big of a deal so you agree.

You’re thorough and clinical, robotic as you scrub in the shampoo, wash it out. Squirt conditioner into your hands, massage that in. He’s sitting on the shower stool so you can reach, make it easier on your arms.

And then he moans.

You freeze up, but his hand catches yours before you can pull away from his head.

“Sorry, keep-keep going.”

You do, hesitantly. Your hand catches on a knot and you pull a little too hard, a few strands of hair come away and your stepbrother is moaning again, and you’re done - this is too weird, you’ll finish showering later.

Before you can turn, step out of the shower, Kirishima is facing you - eyes level with your chest.

“Kiri!” You yelp, covering your chest with your hands. His eyes flick downwards, in between your legs, and you quickly try to cover that part of your body too, but he catches your hand, standing up so he towers over you.

“Hey, hey... you’re beautiful, no need to hide. I don’t.” He winks at you as he grabs your other hand, pulling it away from your chest. You don’t have time to yell at him before he’s opening his mouth again.

“Wow, you’re really pretty, you know that? Prettiest girl I know.”

You’re blushing and trying to pull your hands back, but Kiri won’t let you, dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. He looks different like this - hair dark with water, hanging down in his face, eyes hooded and filled with an emotion you don’t dare try to decipher. You know you won’t like putting a name to that look.

“Look, you’re so pretty you made me all hard.” He chuckles, chuckles.

Horrified, you can’t stop yourself from looking down, getting a full glance of the full dick between his legs, so big and heavy it’s barely pointed upwards. You blanch.

“Kiri let me go.”

“So soon? You haven’t rinsed out your hair yet.”

You’re pulling away from him harder now, but he’s so strong - you don’t even move.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it later.”

“I wanna do somethin’ with you though, it’ll be fun.”

Your stomach twists and Kiri pulls you to his body with a quick jerk. You collide with his chest, feel his cock touching your stomach. His arms wrap around you, holding you in place. He starts to almost rock you, moving you back and forth with his body in a soothing manner.

“You know how in those cheesy movies the boy and the girl play pretend?”

Struggling is pointless, so you look up at him, confused.

“Y’know, like... pretend girlfriend? I wanna play pretend girlfriend with you.”

And then he’s reaching down with one hand, spreading your cunt, teasing a finger inside. You gasp, the intrusion surprising you, and then he’s pushing in another finger.

He fingers you open, rubbing at your walls, slowly adding more and more fingers and you don’t even know how many he has inside you, three? four? but it’s almost painful. Kirishima’s cooing in your ear the entire time.

“Mm, pretty girl, you’re doing so well.”

“Yeah, you’d be a good girlfriend, so submissive and sweet.”

“Look at you, sucking my fingers in like that. You like this? I do.”

His fingers come out with a squelch, and then he’s sitting down on the shower stool, pulling you into his lap. You don’t even know what to do, what to say. You’re cold and wet and isn’t this wrong? He’s your stepbrother.

His cock is thick, lengthy. It’s the biggest one you’ve ever taken, or even seen for that matter. But he’s relentless as he lowers you onto it, grunting with the effort of holding himself back from ramming into you, rutting like a wild animal.

Kirishima’s cock hits so deep, makes you gasp and pleasure zings up your spine, tummy twisting with how good it feels. When he bottoms out the both of you take big, gulping breaths, pausing. You pause to adjust to the size, Kiri pauses to stop himself from cumming too soon - he wants to enjoy this.

It takes a minute, but then he’s palming at your chest, looking up at your with those big dark eyes, flashing you a grin before sweetly kissing along your jaw, making you moan (moan? shouldn’t you be screaming?).

“Alright pretty baby, think you can help me out now? Feel so good, all wet and hot. You’re the best little girlfriend.”

You aren’t thinking as you get your feet under you, getting purchase on the wet tiles to slowly push yourself up, let his cock come out of you a few inches, before sinking back down. You’re listening to his voice, doing what he tells you to, shame coloring your cheeks.

It feels so good.

Thighs burning, you keep riding him, Kiri dipping down to suck at your tits, squeezing the mounds in his big hands. He’s such a large man, all muscles and hard lines, big enough that it takes him no effort to grab your hips, start moving you along his cock like a little fleshlight.

Immediately your hands fly to his hair, twisting in the wet strands, unintentionally tugging.

Kiri moans.

His pace speeds up, you can hear the wet slap of your skin, he’s jostling you, treating you like a little rag doll as he spears you on his cock over and over. “Fuck, fuck, you’re-mmhh baby that’s good, do that again. Please do that again.”

You indulge him, grip his hair a little tighter and pull, and Kiri shouts, hips hammering against your ass. His cock is reaching so deep, hitting that special spot inside you without him even trying to. You’re writhing on his lap in pleasure, in disgust at yourself and at him, but you can’t go anywhere with his hands clamped tight around your waist.

“Kiri, Kiri! Gonna-gonna cum!” You warn him.

“Me too, fuck, just a little more baby.”

One of his giant hands slips down, fingers clumsily trying to find your clit. The second he does, you're already so sensitive and close that you cum, muscles clenching, eyes closing as you ride the delicious wave of your orgasm.

Kirishima follows soon after, his head thumping forward against the curve of your shoulder as he pants, wet warmth filling you up.

He helps clean you up after, fingers the cum out of you as he kisses you deep.

After that, Kiri wants to play pretend girlfriend with you every chance he can get, whenever your parents have a date night, late at night when he wakes up from a wet dream and you’re just a few doors away. He takes you out on pretend dates, “practice for when I get a real girlfriend!” he assures you. It doesn’t feel quite right, but he buys you ice cream if you let him feed it to you, and that's usually the only weird thing that happens on these “pretend dates”.

They're normal dates, normal when he takes you home and fucks you into the mattress after.

It’s easy to know when he’s in the mood, he says he wants to play your game, pretend girlfriend. He’s still the same old Kiri, the one that helps you with your homework, the one that likes playing Mario kart and loosing just so you’ll grin at him and toss the controller at him cause you know he let you win.

Kirishima still bickers with you over who gets to sit where at dinner, still ruffles your hair whenever he passes you in the hall. Asks you to help him set up the karaoke machine so the two of you can sing horribly to stupid songs.

But now there’s the addition of him fucking you.

You aren’t sure this “pretend girlfriend” thing is really pretend.

Not like you can do anything about it

#yandere kirishima #kirishima x reader #stepbro #stepbrother kiri #Kirishima Eijirou #yandere #yandere oneshot #?#idk #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere kirishima eijirou #kirishima #step siblings #overstepping #infantilization #kind of #Kiri doesn't give reader a chance to say no

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searidings · 3 years

Note

....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !

hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:

1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril

2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3

The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.

The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.

If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.

It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.

What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.

Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.

Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.

Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.

“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.

“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.

Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.

Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.

For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.

Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.

For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.

Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”

The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.

“Her veins were green, Alex.”

An eternity passes.

She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.

Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.

“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”

Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.

A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.

But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.

Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.

She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.

“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”

Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.

And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.

When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.

When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.

When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.

But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”

Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.

When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”

The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.

Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.

Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.

The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.

It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.

Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”

A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.

But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.

Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.

The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.

When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.

“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”

Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.

#i wrote this immediately after the s5 finale (clearly) and before i finished it i got the idea for 'with the birds' and blasted that one #and then i was just like well. i've just done kara and lena's whole big reconciliation arc. do i really want to do it again #even though the premise of this one is different and reading through it again today i still quite like it #but i just don't know. i don't want to redo the same theme constantly and also i haven't thought up a satisfying ending #but there's 16k words written so like. i guess i should never say never #who knows #anyway thank you for your interest! i'm touched that you would care about this idea #and i hope you like this beginning! though as i said. it's angst city #i've just never recovered from that scene you know?#lena standing between kara and a threat whispering 'if you want to get to supergirl you're gonna have to go through me'#has anything sexier ever happened in the history of the moving image i'm not sure #truly the fic basically writes itself #anyways. bon appetit i guess #hope you're having a wonderful day #asks #anonymous #ridings writes

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

I REQUEST A SOFT BADBOY DRABBLE WITH SHY READER AND HES TEASING HER BUT SOMEONE ELSE JOIMS IN AND THEYRE DOING IT TO BE MEAN BUT HES LIKE STFU BEFORE I PUMCH UR FACE ONLY IM ALLOWED TO BULLY SHY READER GRR 😡😡😡😡 and soft readers like 0.o but *squeals incoherently* 😭😭😭😭

last name, jeon.

drabble week: day two

drabble week masterlist

pairing: badboy!jungkook x shy!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "can't you tell that i really don't want you to be here?"

notes: a tiny change on the plot!! also: frat boy!jimin from day four makes an appearance :D

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“do you wanna form-“

... yes

you DO have an alliance with jungkook

it's a very fair trade honestly

he pretends to be your boyfriend!! there's no specific boundaries to it, but he springs into action as soon as you're put into an inconvenience

in exchange, you whore him out to your friends!!! :D

no but literally that's how he called it

the whole reason this came to be in the first place is because you hATE confrontation with a burning passion

especially when it comes to those "i have a crush on you" moments that people spring on you all of a sudden

you don't like them back!!! that's the truth!!! but the problem is that you aLWAYS feel guilty letting people down

you obviously don't have the obligation to like someone back just because you sit next to them in class :// IT'S JUST IN YOUR NATURE TO FEEL THAT WAY

you wouldn't get into a relationship with said confessor to ease your guilt, clearly

do you plan on denying their advances? yes

but hOW????

you always take the passive-aggressive approach

you get jungkook to carry your bag and hold your hand, walk in front of said person and pretend not to see them, jungkook makes sURE to put some snide eye contact in there aaaaand the whole ordeal is finished :D

you've managed to let someone down slowly without having to speak to them in-person!!!

jungkook comes more handy than that too

you take him when you want to eat out because you're too anxious to eat alone

you take him when you want to go somewhere in which lining up is essential and you're also too anxious to stand by yourself

you take him when you want to go shopping when there's a sale but you're almost always intimidated by the barrage of people and salespeople so he asks and answers the questions for you

jungkook, in hindsight, is the perfect fake boyfriend for you <3

ALSO jungkook wants something from you

"whore me out to the girls from the families your family's friends with, and it's a deal :D"

that alliance and exchange is going pretty well so far

you mAY be on the more-reserved side but that doesn't mean you're self-aware!!!

you know that your parents are loaded and your shy nature could be somehow chalked to that since you didn't really have anyone that wasn't as non-superficial as you'd like, since they were the overprotective helicopter two-rotor seven-blade parents :(((

jungkook, however, is the only constant you have in your formula

you've known him since childhood and have been friends ever since

his mom's your mom's personal assistant, and one day when mrs. jeon couldn't find a babysitter for jungkook, your mom didn't hesitate to let four-year old jungkook come with her to work

jungkook's your fIRST actual friend that hates gold spoons with you because of how tacky they look :-) he's your emotional support person basically

your emotional support person who was sO close to running late from picking you up during his free day >:( you were about to break into a sprint if he arrived a second later, because you managed to spot a jock coming to you from the corner of your eye awhile ago

You Do Not Like Him <3

"and i even changed into a short-sleeved shirt to ward off your suitors. how romantic of me, don't you think?"

now that he mentions it, it's only now when you can drink him in in full-display

... wow

his right arm's the only one with his tattoos while his left's completely blank, but something about the balance just makes you !!!!!!!! even more

his arm's not completely covered but it was coming to be, something about the blank spaces of skin that are yet to be inked being a nice touch

"very romantic, kook."

now tHAT'S the answer he wanted to hear

he forcibly on your helmet for you to showcase, your grunts of annoyance being drowned out by whistling

(he's even looking left and right and making eye contact with anyone who has their eyes landing on you!!!!)

your cheeks smushed is a look he'll never be tired being in awe of, but he'll never tell you that, of course

"do you ever wonder if your parents would kill me if i misplace even a single hair on you?" jungkook thinks out loud and you don't even flinch with how sudden his thoughts could be, sitting on his seat first so it'd already be balanced when you do, "you sure you’re okay riding with me?? on a motorcycle????"

he usually uses yOUR family's vehicles (they let him and insisted he just takes one at this point) but when you called him, he was en route to kim kradle (it's a one-stop vehicle shop apparently) to get new rims for his motorcycle, bUT NOT ANYMORE HE GUESSES????

you come first compared to the booking he's waited on for three weeks

"i have insurance, i think."

no that's the wrong answer

why did you even bother.,,.,

jungkook flicks your nose because your forehead's protected by the helmet, his face contorted in half faux frustration

"you were supposed to be mad at me for asking that — not logical!! don't even joke about that."

"... my life insurance? like, in the instance that i-"

oW THAT HURT

he flicked even harder this time!!!

you roll your eyes at him and it doesn't go unnoticed, a hand outstretching instead of his fingers flexing

“wallet, please.”

????

jungkook's surprised that you even look confused, this time rolling his eyes at you

“you rolled your eyes at me. you need to bribe me so i won’t rat you out.”

right

he has a never-ending knack for the you're rich jokes

you also know that he likes the cold and would turn the fan on even if it's too hot for a blanket, just because he wants to feel cocooned

you also know that he picks from the fourth row of drinks from the front because it's always been a habit

("the germs cling on to the first row!!!")

you also know that maybe, just maybe, you can't stand it tonight when he's putting himself out there instead of being your faux boyfriend

you keep on zoning out and hoseok, perhaps the only tolerable fellow rich kid you can tolerate within your circle, finally connects the dots in his head and snickers

he's been talking about finding the vintage sneakers he's always wanted on depop and how he almost got scammed for like tWENTY minutes already

in reality, all your nods and scowls aren't towards his story

it's to jungkook and... who's that? jihye whose dad is so colossally shitty, that this one rapper wrote a diss song for him? oh yeah, that jihye

"you like him. like actually 'lose your virginity to him' love him."

WHAT???

there's no way

"how did you-"

"you blush like one."

alright that answer was too quick

hoseok should've ATLEAST tried to wait for a few seconds before answering

"a-and the love part?"

"babe, jungkook may not be the richest one here and that should say a lot," you peer up at him nervously and he actually chuckles, peering to everyone at this function, "dude's humble — he could also just be dense to not see you love him."

okay very true

hobi's making a dig rn at how jungkook coinicidentaally happens to be blonde and maybe this is your cue to leave

hobi does not realize that his hair is aLSO dyed blonde while talking shit about jungkook and his hari

okay this is it

once again, you are NOT listening to hoseok and he's figured out what you're doing by now

you're psyching yourself up with a couple of shots and your heels are digging on the carpeted ballroom

MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY TO BE MORE OUTGOING!!

"pretend to wobble. it doesn't help that nothing can sink you."

oh okay makes sense

if you're gonna try and charm jungkook while trying to play it off as just being tipsy playfulness, atleast make it believable

hoseok snickers because this is just A+ content with the things that you choose to do in your way

shy girl with high alcohol tolerance mannn coming of age film writers would LOVE you ://

you're about to cross the distance between you and jungkook, but something knocks you on your shoulder with a gentle force that seemed intentional

is that-

hold on a second

"what a coincidence :O"

jimin?

jimin???

as in, wholesome yet slightly fuckboy-ish frat guy jimin???

he looks dashing and composed, meeting your eyes perfectly and he doesn't let your confusion startle him

"i know that look. what am i doing here?"

he says it eloquently as if he's practiced it

AND HE DID!!!

you must've looked so shocked that you immediately apologized, shaking your head no

"i-i didn’t mean-..."

you're confused, sure, but that doesn't mean you're immediately judging

it's just that you never saw jimin here or any function of the like, but you wouldn't put it past him if he does go to these things!!! he looks like a million dollars anyways

"relax, doll. you’re so far the only other person i know that i've seen in these type of things."

he looks calm and collected, but maybe that's just because he spent the last five minutes waiting for you to stand so he could bump into you

this place is just sO suffocating and a familiar face is gonna be his relief from something so fancy that it became mundane

"have we been in the same event before this?"

"not that i recall, no. i get invited but this is only the first time after awhile that i went."

jimin drinks from his champagne flute, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, "wanna know why i'm here?"

you're curious!!! what can you say!!!!

you never really interacted with jimin at all before this, but a familiar face like his is comforting

because hoseok's already engaged in another conversation and jungkook's,,,, being jungkook and is fawning all over jihye

jimin chuckles at your insistent nodding, leaning closer to whisper to your ear

"my stepdad’s loaded as fuck."

oh so that's why

he tugs you down to sit at the nearest possible empty chairs, all its occupants gone anyways because they're in the dancefloor busting tRULY horrendous moves

maybe it's because jimin feels lonely too like you are, and it's him feeling comfortable because he's pulled you like ten seconds ago and not once asked him anything out of bounds

maybe that's why he fell into conversation with you easily because you're always intently listening

"might love me as a real son too. maybe that’s a bonus? you don’t really expect that shit in the things you see."

this situation is actually pretty cute

you snort because maybe you’re nOT that shy when you drink,, that’s the only thing that changes in you probably

this whole conversation that sprung from boredom was unknowingly the subject of many stares, including jungkook who you were initially supposed to go to

“you’re worthy of love, jimin.”

jimin sPITS his drink because where the fuck did THAT come from???

why did you say that and why does he feel that he needed to hear that

“i-i think — i think you need more,” he raises his own glass to your lips hurriedly, caught in surprise but you still gulp nonetheless

“you’re-“ you keep sputtering as he keeps making you drink, but he rubs circles on your back at the same time and it's when you realize that jimin the frat guy may not be that bad, “what??? don’t think you’re not the only one with daddy issues! shouldn’t we have like, a radar for each other?”

jimin snorts at your counter and his eyes crinkle to the point where he can't see anything, not being able to see how you're still trying to recover with all that fizz down your throat

wow ur really enjoyable to talk to

“you’re insane and i think-“

listen

you're not really big on feeling beyond a sense and all that stuff, but you feel as if the aura around you just got dark all of a sudden

"who are you calling insane?"

jungkook appears at your side in an instant, hands wrapped around your shoulders while you remain seated

you've honestly forgotten that you were supposed to go to jungkook, but you're reminded of that vERY clearly now

"go away, jimin," he mutters through his teeth, looking at him dead in the eye

hold on

wait

THAT'S JIMIN???

okay now he's confused

sometimes jungkook's mouth just moves on its own without loading the thought process

"why are YOU here?"

jimin furrows his brows, shocked that he'd even see jungkook here out of all people

the guy barely even attends classes!!! and that's coming from him!!

"why’s he here?"

he crouches to your ear, eyes still furrowed at the younger guy

"long story."

nO???

jungkook scowls bitterly because jesus fuck

YOU’RE ON WHISPERING TERMS NOW????

he left for one second, and the moment he comes back, that's when this fucking frat guy approaches you?? was he waiting on him to leave??

you and jungkook only act as a couple when the need arises, and even if you don't feel it, hE feels that this is the need!!! this is the need and it is arising!!!

"get back to uh, alpha bravo charlie or something, park. beat it."

why’s he reciting the nato phonetic alphabet???

jungkook sounds half-angry and half-sad at the same time, and you don't know which side should you focus on

“move,” he repeats this time again but more sternly, making jimin much more confused since jungkook's trying to pull him away from his seat

jimin doesn't budge and it makes the frown even more evident in jungkook's face

what is he FEELING

“can’t you tell that i really don’t want you to be here?”

“i’m not here for you, though. i’m here for y/n.”

he answers honestly, shis gut telling him that there's definitely something going on between the two of you

“y/n doesn’t want you here," kook argues back surely, only noticing your bitten lips now that makes him realize that you're not exactly sober; just a happy kind of rush

he sees you raise your hand timidly, an equally cheeky smile on your face that's only directed to jungkook like it's meant for him

"i-i actually don’t mind."

you don't,,,

you don't mind?

HOW'S THAT POSSIBLE

WHAT ARE YOU DOING

why aren't you signaling him to commence the faux boyfriend act!!

"y/n has a boyfriend."

“... i’m not hitting on her.”

alright this is more than the entertainment that jimin wished for lol

“yeah, well she has a boyfriend still so beat it.”

you do??

the last time you checked, jihye's gonna have jungkook as her boyfriend within the night!!

“i don-“

ALRIGHT THEN

jimin decides to indulge jungkook, knocking his knee with yours as he winks slyly, urging you silently to watch on, turning to look at you and ask

“what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

you don't answer.

that gives him all the more reason to do so.

“last name, jeon.”

jungkook looks the most determined you've ever seen him, eyes characteristically angry with his arms across his chest that his suit tightens, “first name, me.”

....

......

the three of you know that’s not the truth

jimin takes it in, sighing when he sense that something else is about to be unfold and he does noT want to be a part of it

not before whispering to your ear again for the last time, of course

“pretty weird name if you ask me,” you laugh automatically, momentarily forgetting that jungkook's standing by you on just your opposite side and could hear you

he leaves and that only leaves you with jungkook, looking up at him as he's too frantic to even sit

“what are you doing?”

“being a social butterfly," you quip just as fast, drinking your water afterwards

jungkook only clenches his jaw by then, being taken-aback when you speak again

“who are you doing?”

://

“i’m busy being mad at- wait a minute, WHO???”

who instead of what??

the short-lived enthusiasm you had with jimin left with him, crashing just as hard when you're reminded of jungkook's presence

“jihye’s a pretty nice girl. you should go home early tonight.”

his brows furrow, trying to get you to look at him but you avoid his gaze insistently, “what? what are you talking about?”

“she’s not my girlfriend though.”

you're not at all satisfied with the answer because it sounds so wrong, knowing that jungkook's a handsome guy and everyone wants to be with him!!!

and he probably wants to be with everyone else besides you.

“then who-...”

“don’t know yourself anymore? jimin must’ve really swept you off your feet, huh?”

jungkook huffs as he qualifies for a rebutt, your internal wallowing being cut short

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

...

....

“well would you look at that,” jungkook snickers, sighing through his nose as your eyes finally meet his, directly stubborn yet soft around the edges

“she’s not my girlfriend, and he’s not your boyfriend. what a coincidence.”

god did he feel so threatened the moment his eyes couldn't find you besides hobi and instead next to jimin, eyes crinkled in laughter without hesitation

have you been chasing after one another this whole time?

jungkook silently grabs you by the hand and you wave no opposition to it

maybe it's your liquor-influenced vision or maybe it's you hyperfixating on such a warm moment, but your eyes immediately lock to see the matching red thread bracelet he wore like yours

you're dressed in next year's spring collection line, and the structured silk black gown that has a train behind it doesn't exactly scream to have a simple red thread bracelet as its accessory according to your mom's designer and everyone else —

but you don't have the heart to take it off

there's no need to take it off

jungkook drives your car and no one says a single thing about anything

his hand’s on your thigh and you don’t question it, eyes locking into the way his hand looks perfect and the way the bracelet looks meant to be wrapped in his wrist in the first place

you're sure this time that it's not the newfound courage you have, but rather the need to do it

you kiss jungkook's cheek on a red light.

it's on a red light that jungkook realizes he could fit the visage of his world within one hand, finally kissing you like he's always wanted to

“yeah. what a coincidence.”

#drabble week #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook headcanons #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook oneshots

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theringers · 3 years

Text

watch me burn - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part seven

summary: “oh baby, I've been thinking about it, you know that I've been dreaming about it” watch me burn / michele morrone

a/n: hi:) still a few more parts to go but i went a few chapters without smut and this was needed so enjoy:) also if u listen to the title song while u read its a whole new experience lmfao

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex

2 months ago, to the day

Your eyes met his piercing blue eyes in the garage once again. It had been a month since you slept with Pierre and you haven’t stopped thinking about it. The way he stared at you as he fucked you was the exact same way he was glaring at you across the paddock. Needy and desperate.

You shook yourself back into focus and listened as Max’s strategist reiterated today’s race strategy but you couldn’t help daydreaming about what that man could do in bed.

You drowned out the conversation about tyres and looked over to Alpha Tauri at the perfect time. Pierre had his bottom lip between his teeth while he examined his car. He ran his hand slowly over the chassis seductively like he knew you were watching. His fingers grazed the metal in painstakingly slow circles. After he removed his hand from the car was when he caught your eyes. He gave you a smirk, not even a smile, and turned away. It was good to know that you weren’t the only one thinking about what happened.

The race started and you were in the garage, cheering on Max. He had started second on the grid but due to a first lap incident, he was fifth. He was not going to be happy after the race. He can tolerate if he fucks up but having other people interfere with his race is something he takes particularly hard.

Pierre’s car came up behind Max’s around a corner and got too close for comfort. Max jerked his steering wheel too much as he tried to turn, sending Pierre’s car straight into the barriers.

You stood up out of your seat and gasped. Everyone in the garage was relieved to see Max still racing and no one seemed to be concerned about Pierre. You took off your Red Bull Racing branded headphones and slammed them on the table before rushing over to the Alpha Tauri garage.

Anna was seated in her chair, looking worried, but not enough for you. She should be close to tears like you were.

“Have you heard anything from him?” You asked and Anna looked up, almost annoyed.

“He’s conscious,” his race engineer said, “but hurting.” You heard the groan come through followed by a bunch of curse words. He apologized profusely for his move but it was all Max’s fault.

You watched on Alpha Tauri’s monitors as the race was red flagged and decided to head back to Red Bull’s garage. “Let me know when you hear something,” you said to Anna. She nodded and looked back down to her phone. Fucking bitch. Her attitude made you not even feel bad about sleeping with her husband. She didn’t deserve him.

Max walked back to the garage looking like a life size bobble head with his heavy helmet swinging around. “Is Pierre okay?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“He’s conscious. He took a nasty hit.”

“I know, I feel bad. I didn’t mean to, the steering wheel just got away from me. I saw him crash in my rear view mirror.”

You were visibly shaken and Max always knew the right things to say when you weren’t feeling okay.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Max said, rubbing your back.

You nodded in agreement. “I know he will. I’m going to check on him at the medical center once the race starts again.”

Max smiled at you. “That would be good. Make sure you tell him I’m sorry.”

An engineer put his hand on Max’s shoulder and shoved a spreadsheet full of data in his face. He shrugged his shoulders and walked with the engineer to the monitors.

It wasn’t long before the race got underway again. Max made it up to third, podium position, but there were still at least 30 laps left. You started the trek through the paddock and over to the medical center. You were just a bit too late as you saw Pierre walking out down the ramp. He smiled when he saw you approach him.

“How ya feeling champ?” You asked him.

“I’m a bit sore thanks to your husband.”

Your face fell. “He sends his apologies. I promise he was actually remorseful.”

“Max? Remorseful? What did you do to him?”

You laughed. Max did have a temper and tended to be extra competitive but he had formed a special bond with Pierre these last few years. They weren’t friends by any means but they helped each other out whenever possible. This was one of the times that it wasn’t possible.

“He does genuinely feel bad, Pierre.”

“I know he does, it was a racing incident. I saw the footage.” He limped slightly through the paddock and winced when he put pressure on his left leg. “I think I should go lay down for a bit.” He took another step and lost his balance. You grabbed his arm and held him, making sure he stayed steady.

“This is it right here,” he pointed to his motor home.

“Do you want me to help you up there? I don’t want you to fall.” You said with a soft smile on your face. How could he resist your offer of help?

“Sure,” he limped over to the door and you aided him up a few stairs. “Shouldn’t you be watching the rest of the race? Last I checked, Max was doing really well.”

He sat down on the luxe white leather couch in exhaustion and you sat at the table across from him. “He wanted to make sure you’re okay. He’ll be fine.” You looked around the motorhome, observing your surroundings to seem busy. “So Anna’s nice…” you said, followed by a laugh. You had known Anna for a few months now. Their wedding was right before the season started and you really hadn’t known her much before then either. She tended to keep to herself and you wanted to respect that.

“She can be a bit…”

“Yeah, I know. I went to check on you after the crash and she looked like she wanted me dead.”

“In her defense, she caught me checking out your ass this morning. She was not very happy with me after that.”

You leaned forward to give him a light smack. “Pierre!” You shook your head in disappointment. “What did she think of the way you were practically fingering your car this morning?”

He played fake shy. “Oh, you saw that?”

“You make my heart beat crazy fast.” You admitted, putting your hand to your chest. “That didn’t help.”

“Well, as long as you enjoyed yourself.”

Enjoy yourself you did. He was in his same fireproofs from earlier and you were sure he didn’t know how turned on they made you. They were pulled down to his waist, the sleeves hanging low off his hips. His white undershirt was tight to his body, putting his abs on full display. His legs were spread wide, inviting you in. Was it hot in there? Was the air conditioning on?

He ran his hands over his abdomen and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. He groaned, sounding like he was in pain, frustrated, and horny at the same time.

Why did he have to be so unbelievably irresistible to you? When you were around him it was almost impossible to contain yourself. There was a magnetic force dragging you to him constantly. You moved yourself to sit next to him, earning his attention and popping his head up.

“You look really hot right now,” you giggled to yourself. He made you feel like a teenager experiencing her first love. The nerves were through the roof.

“Well, I feel hot.” He looked around the walls of the motorhome. “Where the hell is the air conditioning and who turned it off?”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god it’s not just me.” He looked over at you examined your face. He placed his hand on your red cheeks. “You’re flushed.”

When he touched you, a chill ran through your body. Your body felt on fire and he had the power to send a freezing cold chill through it all.

“My cheeks get really red when I get nervous.” You blushed even more having to admit that. It was your least favorite characteristic of yourself. Everyone always knew flat out when you were nervous.

“I can’t tell if it makes you look cute, like I want to hug you, or if I want to fuck you.” His hand still rested on your cheek as he looked back and forth between your eyes and lips. “You look so god damn innocent. Like I could totally ruin you with just a few minutes alone.” His thumb ran over your lower lip and you instinctively stuck your tongue out to meet his thumb. He took the opportunity to put his thumb in your mouth and you suctioned around it, keeping eye contact with him. “Y/n,” he breathlessly begged, “please.”

His lips crashed to yours, feeling warm and secure the moment they touched. His hands held your neck and you moaned into his mouth, forgetting what it felt like to be touched by him.

He hoisted you onto his lap, wincing a bit when you grazed his knee. His hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist as he pulled you closer to him, grinding your hips. “Don’t do this to me,” he said into your neck.

“Why not?” You said cheekily.

“We don’t have much time.” You almost forgot that there was a race going on right now.

“I can be quick.” You hopped off of him and locked the motorhome door as he undressed out of his fireproofs. He looked so good in his white suit but he looked even better naked. You slipped off your underwear and hoisted your sundress up to your waist before going back to his lap.

He guided your body on top of his, settling you down as you took all of him in, deep. “Shit. A condom.” You said, after the bare feeling of him inside of you set in. God did it feel good but it wasn’t right.

“I don’t think I have any in here.” He said. “I promise I’ll pull out. I need you so bad.” He lightly bit your nipple through your sundress.

“I will kill you if you’re lying to me.” You started to move your hips and moaned at the sensation. He felt so good filling you up all the way.

He took your ass in his hands and started to bounce you up and down on his cock. “That’s it baby, just like that.” He said, admiring your movements. “Fuck me like a good girl.”

Your head fell forward, the feeling running through your body getting almost unbearable to handle.

“Jesus, Pierre, you feel so good.” You pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and arched your back, feeling like all eyes were on you in the best way possible.

He watched you in awe as you rode his cock without a care in the world. “Your pussy is so tight baby. So tight for me.” A breathy moan escaped his lips and his face looked like he was in pure bliss. There’s nowhere else he would rather be.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna come.” He said, panicking. You rushed to get off of him as you saw the liquid pool on his abs.

“Did you…?”

“I don’t think I got any inside of you.”

You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. God, you hoped not.

next part

#f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #pierre gasly smut #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fanficfion #max verstappen fanfiction #pg #mv

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

WRONG (3)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you find yourself at the tattoo parlor more often as of late. also, jungkook hates lemon jelly filled donuts and is easily bribed by mint chocolate and macarons. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

Sora’s unbridled passion for why she believes Jungkook is wrong for you has never irritated you as much as it does in this moment. You’ll never understand why she’s so adamant about the topic, when it’s not her decision. When she knows that you’ve been harboring a small crush on the man for years now, and you’re fairly certain he returns your affections.

When the man told you that he had put an orange heart next to your name, you knew it was real.

You don’t understand why Sora is determined to make things so complicated, when they don’t have to be. You don’t believe her claims that he’s a fuckboy, that he treats people like trash. He’s shown you the opposite. He’s so gentle with everyone, not just you. He’s blunt but he has a big heart under all of the leather and layers of black.

If there’s a word to describe him, it’s dreamy.

Which is why you’re so hurt that Sora refuses to give him a chance. After all, if she was your best friend, shouldn’t she offer him a chance for your sake?

It confuses you.

“I’ve heard so many bad things about him,” Sora says knowingly, swirling her glass of wine in her hands. You don’t feel very much like drinking, not when your stomach swirls in unease. Being in her apartment is nothing new, but right now, you’d rather be anywhere else.

“But what things? And from who? Jungkook is such a genuine guy and he hasn’t done anything for people to start rumors about him,” You protest, but your words fall on deaf ears, “And I like him-”

“I mean come on, have you seen him? The man radiates bad vibes. My friends have all said-”

“Bad vibes? You’re dismissing him because of bad vibes when I’m telling you that-”

“I’m your best friend, don’t you think I know these things?” Sora says, heat and arrogance in her voice, “I’m only looking out for you. It’s shitty that you’re dismissing me for a guy-”

“I’m not dismissing you-” But your voice grows smaller and smaller, something that you think Jungkook might be disappointed in you for.

“It sure as hell sounds like you are,” Sora sneers with a cold sort of tilt to her lips, “Listen. I’m just looking out for you, even if you don’t seem to appreciate it. I thought we were best friends. Friends look out for each other, but if you don’t want to listen to me, that’s on you.”

Something dry settles in your throat and something heavy settles in your chest.

“He’s not good news,” Sora continues, as if she can’t see your heart beginning to ache, “I’ll find someone who will treat you much better, don’t worry.” She pats your knee in a way that is supposed to be reassuring but you wince.

You don’t want her favors, but it’s too late for you to protest. Besides if you did, she’d feel awful and you never want to be the cause of her being upset. She’s your best friend after all. And what kind of friend would you be, if you upset her to that degree?

But still... you don’t want anyone else. You want the sensitive man who gets misty-eyed by powerful renditions of Beyonce songs, the man who texts you until you fall asleep, the man who asks you what color to paint his nails when he feels like it.

You kind of want the sensitive man dressed in layers of black.

You let Sora talk your ear off about all of the guys she has in mind for you, but you stop listening. You don’t understand this vendetta she has against Jungkook, the vendetta that she’s always had. But she is correct about one thing- she is your best friend and has your best interests at heart...right?

The four walls of the tattoo parlor that you’ve begun frequenting more and more often begins to feel more and more like a welcome place in recent days. You’ve always been friendly with the guys, especially Yoongi and Hoseok.

Even if Yoongi doesn’t work at the parlor, he’s here frequently enough.

Though Yoongi and Hoseok are some of your oldest friends, you’ve only come to the parlor a handful of times in the past. Once that realization hit you, you’d made it a point to stop by more often.

Why hadn’t you before?

They’re your oldest friends, but these days, you feel closer to Mina and Mei as well. While you do have other girlfriends who you see as often as your collective schedules align, it’s still different.

But still. You don’t know if you’ve ever truly belonged with anyone. You feel as if you’ve been floating through life, with Sora by your side (at least half the time, when she’s not spewing criticism over the man you have feelings for).

Thinking about it gives you a headache and makes you feel nostalgic for something that you never had. But maybe it’s something you can have.

“Hey, you,” Mei calls from reception, where she’s sitting next to Hobi who waves at you, “What brings you here? Finally gonna let me pierce you?”

“I brought donuts,” You shrug, “And I’m not ready for that surgical instrument to touch me, thanks very much.”

“You can stop by without the pretense of bringing sweet treats over,” Hobi says knowingly, “I mean none of us will complain about donuts, but you know that right? You can come by anytime you want.”

“O-okay,” You nod, your throat feeling a little dry.

“Now, come here and let me see what you got. If there’s a lemon jelly filled donut, save that for Jungkook. He hates them.”

“You got plans this evening?” Mei asks, grabbing her bright red purse that’s nearly the size of your head. Her purse matches her bright red nails and for half a second, you’re mesmerized by the glossiness of her nails.

“No, other than getting ready for tomorrow’s day of work-”

“Great! Wanna come with me to the tattoo supply store? I have to pick up more needles, grips and gloves.”

“Sure,” You shrug, a little excited at the prospect of a quick adventure for Mei, “I’ll just say bye to Hobi.”

He’s already watching you with mirth in his eyes, as if he knows what you’re about to say. “Hey, will you tell Jungkook I said hi?” You murmur, feeling your ears burning at his smug grin.

“Sure, I will,” Hobi grins, “I’m sure he feels bad about not being able to say hi to you himself. He’s had a busy day.”

“Understandable,” You nod, “I mean, you guys say he’s the best in the city, right? I’m sure he’s got a waitlist of people who want to be tatted by him.”

“Maybe someday he’ll tattoo you, huh?” He says mischievously to which you roll your eyes and feel your face heat up.

“He would be so lucky,” You scoff, as if the notion of Jungkook tattooing your body doesn’t make something flutter in your belly.

“We have this competition at the parlor where the person who makes the most tips has to buy the supplies on a monthly basis,” Mei says smugly, “Usually, it’s Kook but for the last few months it’s been me.”

That doesn’t surprise you in the least- Hobi has told you that Mei and Mina are both skilled in realistic and watercolor tattoos, as well as piercings. You think if you were ever to receive a tattoo from either Mei or Mina, you would tip them for the mere fact of them being so close in your presence for so long.

They used to intimidate you, when Hobi had first introduced you to them. Mina with her sleek bob haircut, and Mei with her long, glossy waves. Both of them had nose piercings and their ears were dotted in different hoops and rods. You’d only caught a glimpse of their tattoos a handful of times- Mei has a full sleeve on her right arm where Mina’s tattoos seem to be more hidden.

They’re just so cool and funny and smart.

“How did you all get the idea for the tattoo parlor? Like, was it a business decision or were you all friends before?” You ask curiously.

“Well… Jin, Mina and I have been friends since we were kids, our parents are really close. Jin had this dream of opening his own tattoo and piercing parlor for the longest time. Jungkook and Hobi joined a few months after we officially opened. It took a while, but we’re where we are now,” Mei says fondly.

“That’s incredible! You guys started from the ground up,” You say, in awe, “That parlor is your baby.”

“Fuck, yeah it is,” Mei grins, “What about you? What cool tech stuff is going on in that pretty brain of yours?”

“Um…” Your face heats up at the compliment, “I’m currently helping in developing this app for one of our clients, it’s specific for tracking and trending information related to chronic health conditions. It’s still in its infancy, but it’s been fun! And it’s job security, I guess.”

Mei lets out a low whistle, “Wow, you’re doing something like that by yourself?”

“No, I have a pretty great team,” You shrug, “Something like that definitely can’t be done alone.”

Mei hums, “You’re gonna be great, Ms. CEO.”

“Yeah right, I’d never want that burden,” You scoff, “I’m good right where I am.”

With both of your arms full of bags of supplies for the tattoo parlor (and some extras), you both walk out of the shop and towards Mei’s sleek, black car. It’s late, and you don’t really feel much like taking public transportation. But you’re nervous to ask Mei for a ride home for some reason.

“Hey, did you drive to the parlor?” Mei asks.

“N-no, I don’t have a car yet,” You reply, “I only just bought my condo and didn’t want to make another big purchase just yet. I want to start looking though…”

“Oh! I’ll drive you home then,” Mei offers once she starts the engine.

“Are you sure? It’s kind of out of the way from here,” You reply, folding in on yourself a little in the passenger seat.

Mei only waves you off. “Oh, please. What kind of friend would I be if I just left you to get home alone?”

You bite your tongue, as vivid memories of Sora claiming that she didn’t have enough gas in the tank or her asking for gas money for the ten minute drive from her apartment building to your condo flash in your mind.

“Thank you, Mei,” You say gratefully, “Let me know how much to Venmo you, for gas money-”

“Gas money? For a seven minute drive? Is that a joke,” Mei gasps, “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I asked!”

“Asking me for gas money,” Mei mutters, “You said you want to start looking for a car?”

Her smile twists into something mischievous.

“Yeah, I have no idea where to start though…”

“Ask your boy, Jungkook. Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin work at a car dealership and they’re his roommates, I’m sure he’d be eager to help you.” Something in her voice is coy but you maintain a neutral face.

“Yeah… maybe I will,” You say thoughtfully, “Hey! He’s not my boy-”

“Alright, alright,” Mei relents gently, “But really, reach out to him. He’ll help you. So that those boys don’t scam you like the sleazy car salesmen that they are.”

When you see Jungkook next at the tattoo parlor which is conveniently on your way home from work (again with a box of pastries), you muster the courage to step into his office to ask him for help.

“Hi,” You say weakly, “Umm… I come bearing gifts. Got some of those mint chocolate brownie bars that you like, and those macarons-”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to bribe me, baby,” Jungkook says, smirking widely when your lips part in protest.

“If I was trying to bribe you, it wouldn’t be with mint chocolate. Disgusting,” You roll your eyes and squeal out loud when he lunges for you, giving you a teasing but tight back hug.

“Take it back,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. You hardly hear him, too wrapped up in the warmth of the big black hoodie he’s wearing. The soft, gentle scent of laundry and vanilla floats into your nose when you turn your head to press your cheek against his chest.

His heartbeat is faint against your ear. You wonder if he can hear yours speeding up.

“Mint chocolate sucks. It’s a fact,” You mumble.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” His voice comes as a low grumble from his chest and you swallow nervously. Before your nerves can get the best of you, he changes the topic. “Mei told me you’re in the market for a new car?”

“I don’t really know where to start, but I’ve already started doing some research,” You reply, pointing to your small backpack. You pull out a binder with meticulously colored tabs labeled in neat print that Jungkook raises an eyebrow at.

“What?”

“You just carry around a binder with your research on car purchases at all times? Is that what you do?”

“I have to be prepared!”

“Sometimes you just need a vibe check-”

“You want me to purchase an entire vehicle worth about a million and one paychecks based on just a vibe check? Is that what you did with your motorcycle?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook gives you a crooked smile, “And a little research. I guess.”

“You guess,” You mutter under your breath.

Jungkook has been more touchy with you once you had given him the go ahead all those weeks ago. He doesn’t show his affections with you unless you’re both alone, and it’s never anything more than hugs and the occasional brush of hands.

He’s melting you from the outside in, and you bask in his radiant heat. The thought of Sora’s approval doesn’t bother you, not when he hugs you like this.

But as always. Her disapproving voice worms its way into your head and you reluctantly peel away from him to sit on the faded burgundy couch with the box of macarons on your lap.

“So,” Jungkook says, immediately feeling the loss of your warmth in his limbs, “How can I help?”

tags: @kookdbean

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Black

Prompts: After POF, Roman takes over the abandoned color black. He becomes the hated side that Virgil used to be. By most, anyway. Janus and Virgil are concered. Patton chooses to ignore it. Romans room is really cold? and boy is he touch starved - anon

(Sanders sides Prompt) Any one of the sides is touch starved. fluff. (You dont have to do this just thought I might ask) - anon

Hello there!! I just wanna say that I love your work and I think you’re such a talented writer. Idk if this is a weird ask but would you consider writing Roman angst with the song “it’s OK I wouldn’t remember me either” by crywank as like inspiration? Thank you so much <3 -anon

buckel up babes this one's a doozy

Read on Ao3

Warnings: implied/reference self-harm by way of self-negligence, pretty intense self-hatred and neglect that could verge on suicidal, but NO ONE DIES, everyone's fine at the end, we don't break shit and not fix it in my house

Pairings: it is platonic found family hours

Word Count: 5697

Do you know what no one ever tells you about the color black?

It’s seamless.

There are no cracks, no tears, no imperfections, because everything’s so dark you can’t tell what’s a trick of the light and what isn’t. Everything blends together. At first, second, even third glance, it’s perfect. Pristine, even. It hides absolutely everything. It’s intimidating, honestly, that level of deception. The way it can make anything look like it’s meant to be there, as if to live the colorless and lightless life is all it was ever destined for.

Darkness has always found a way of feeling like home, even to the ones who are afraid of it.

You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Roman hadn’t wanted to go to the wedding. He didn’t want to go, but it’s what Patton wanted. It’s what Thomas would’ve wanted. If Roman hadn’t been so loud. But it hurt, it did, when they said that they shouldn’t go to the callback because there was such a slim likelihood of Thomas winning. Because Roman couldn’t win. But Roman wasn’t supposed to be the villain and do something bad so he sent Thomas to the wedding.

Bruises were supposed to be yellow, or green, or purple, not black.

But if he had yellow, green, or purple bruises, he would’ve blamed a yellow, green, or purple Side. And that was bad.

So he hid them, because as he learned, no one was looking for them anyway. Patton cared when he didn’t show up to the video and then he was there and oh, having someone there, even if they only cared a little, was like rainfall in a desert, it was wonderful, Roman would’ve sung if he thought it wouldn’t make everything worse. But Roman was good, so he never complained, and he did his job to the best of his ability.

But what if his job was bad?

But there are two Creativities, a Roman and a Remus. And no one else liked Remus, because Remus was bad and Roman was good. But Remus isn’t bad, he’s just the opposite of Roman. And Roman didn’t want to be Remus because Remus was bad. But Remus isn’t bad.

Creativity isn’t bad.

Bruises aren’t supposed to be black but they can’t be red.

Roman isn’t supposed to be the villain but what else do you call someone who laughs at vulnerability, who scorns people’s earnest attempts to help, who single-handedly ruins someone’s life?

Roman isn’t supposed to be the villain, but bruises aren’t supposed to cover every inch of his skin unless he deserves it.

His skin burns. It crawls and aches and screams and darkens into bruises. His throat aches from the wordless screams and the horrible things he’s said to everyone. He’s been so selfish, he’s tried to make everything go his way, tried to make it about him, not about Thomas, because everything they do is supposed to help Thomas, help Thomas, that’s what they’re supposed to do, they’re supposed to help Thomas, not themselves, why is he doing this, why is he doing this?

Because he’s the villain.

Roman cries.

What else is he supposed to do?

He cries until the tears grow thick, sluggish, oozing out of his eyes until he can’t see anything but them, until his breath grows thick and his chest heavy. He cries until he has to struggle to open his eyes because of how swollen they are, how globulous the tears have become on the ends of his lashes. He cries until his head splits and his chest wails from the pain he isn’t supposed to have but deserves, deserves every little bit. He cries until his body is consumed by the bruises.

His costume is a straightjacket. He needs it off. The white hurts now, it burns his arms and cuffs his wrists. He doesn’t deserve it so he rips it off. Every seam that he ruins is another bruise. The rips are so loud they burrow into some soft part of his brain and live there. The white is still imperfect because it’s on him.

Only when his costume lies in tatters around him, his sash torn off and thrown away, far away, does the white look pure.

He cries himself to sleep with a smile on his face.

Far, far away, a black hoodie is tugged back into the Conscious Mindscape.

When Roman wakes, his head is full of static.

His lungs inflate and collapse on autopilot, driven by the merciless pump of some distant machine, turning the crank to draw air in and out, in and out.

His hands are numb, fingertips rubbed raw and inflamed from tearing relentlessly at fabric. He turns them slowly and it’s like watching himself in a video game.

His face is cold. He paws at his cheeks and feels sticky residue, etched into his skin. His eyes stick slightly when he blinks and he doesn’t know if that’s just his face or if there’s something else.

He is swathed in black fabric, an old threadbare hoodie that has gone years unloved, untouched, unseen. It’s selfishness that makes him tug it closer, feel a faint bubble of pressure on his screaming body.

He should get up, he should go make sure he hasn’t hurt anyone else with his tantrum again, he should apologize.

But…what would be the point?

Like Patton asked, does there come a point when someone keeps apologizing so much that you just have to admit they’re bad?

Roman isn’t good. Has he ever been?

Something interrupts the pleasant numbness and it shoots from his chest to the soft points at the base of his wrists, making his hands tingle. He decides he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want it. He wants everything to stop.

He’s selfish, they all know that, he’s just going to end up hurting them anyway, so why bother trying to fix it?

Apathy, his tired brain supplies when he lies there, unmoving, on the ground, for hours and hours and hours, unwilling and uncaring to fix things.

But that can’t be right. Roman is here because he cared too much, he did too much, he was too much. How can he now be the epitome of not caring at all?

If only he never cared, if only he wasn’t so attached, if only.

If only he had been Apathy, maybe he wouldn’t have been so hurt.

His pride got him here. His pride, his wants, his his his. He wanted everything and burned down the things that would’ve helped him get there because he couldn’t do it right. He is the villain and villains always have too much pride.

Pride. Apathy.

Prapathy.

Apride.

I’m not Creativity anymore, he thinks to himself as he lies there, still on the floor as his chest aches and his eyes sting and the sticky residue drips down his cheeks onto the bruises. He stares and stares and stares at the wall and a faint part of his mind that exists outside of the static realizes he never did get around to fixing that crack in the baseboard.

Pride, apathy. It doesn’t matter. There’s a much easier word that he can use to describe both of them.

Wrong.

—————————————————————

“I don’t know, Thomas,” Logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t think that’s a valid solution either.”

“But it makes sense,” Virgil protests, shoving his hands into his pockets, “all we have to do is not talk to anybody else—“

“But that will hurt their feelings!”

“But we won’t hurt ourselves.”

Janus and Patton look at each other for a moment before Patton sighs and scratches the back of his head.

“I—I don’t know, this…this feels weird.”

“None of us are happy about this, Padre,” Virgil mutters, “but it’s the best solution we’ve got.”

“Real high bar we’re setting there, isn’t it?”

“Listen, Snake Face, if you’ve got a better idea—“

“Virgil, enough.” Logan shakes his head. “We need to keep thinking.”

“We’ve been at this for an hour, Logan,” Thomas says cautiously, “I don’t know what else you think we’re gonna get to.”

“We’ve already passed the optimal point for productivity, yes.”

“Oh, well, we can’t just give up now!” Patton puts his hands on his hips. “I’m sure if we just keep at it for a little longer—“

“You said that half an hour ago, Patton.”

“And I’ll say it again!”

“Because that’s going to make everything go much easier.”

Thomas sighs as the Sides fall back into bickering. Normally, this wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary—pretty much all they do is argue back and forth—but Logan’s right. They’ve made almost no progress. He finds himself staring at the TV.

Why is he staring at the TV?

He frowns, tilting his head. It’s literally just his TV. Why is he so fixated on it right now? It’s not like it’s gone anywhere, it’s sitting right where it always is. He stares at it most of the day, why is it so weird that he’s looking at it now?

Wait—

“Guys,” he interrupts, still staring at the thing he’s not supposed to be able to see like this, “where’s Roman?”

The room pauses. Then Logan sighs.

“Oh, of course, that’s why we’ve been having such a hard time coming up with solutions, we don’t have Roman.”

At Virgil’s side-eye, he glances around to see similar looks of disbelief on the other’s faces.

“What?”

“Did you…did you just admit we need Roman?”

“He is Creativity, it makes sense that if we are struggling to be creative, he isn’t here.”

“Okay, that makes more sense.” Virgil shakes his head. “Thought you were admitting he was important or something.”

“Please, his head is big enough as it is.”

Janus hides a snort.

“Why didn’t he show up earlier,” Thomas asks, “he’s normally one of the first of you to get here.”

Virgil shrugs. “I dunno, I haven’t seen that much of him lately.”

“Is he…okay?”

“Who the hell knows, he’s Roman.”

“My guess is he’s been in his room,” Logan says, glancing at Roman’s usual spot, “I haven’t seen him either.”

Thomas doesn’t miss the way Janus and Patton glance at each other. “If you two have information now might be the time to share it.”

“Roman…hasn’t come out of his room,” Patton says after a beat, “not since…”

“Wait, he hasn’t come out since the wedding?”

Janus shakes his head. “I’ve barely seen him open his door.”

“That doesn’t…normally happen, does it?”

“No,” Patton says, “and, uh, he doesn’t normally ignore us either.”

“Ignore you?”

“We’ve tried knocking. It doesn’t work.”

“Perhaps Thomas can summon him,” Logan offers, “you have more power than any of us do, he’d have to answer you.”

“Well, here goes nothing. Creativity!”

Someone pops up in front of the TV.

Someone in a white costume with green embellishments and a mustache.

“Remus?”

Remus glares at them, his Morningstar at his side, his costume white, pristine, and light.

“What the fuck have you done with my brother?”

—————————————————————

It’s been weeks.

The fans have accepted Remus as Creativity. They think that the videos are better than ever. They think this was Thomas’s plan from the beginning.

There is one end card where the Sides are watching a movie and some of them spot a dark figure in the corner. Who could this be? Is this the mysterious orange Side everyone has been waiting for? Is this the Side that’s been hurting Thomas so much?

Zoom and enhance. It’s Virgil’s old hoodie. They’re sitting where Remus used to sit. They’re not staring at the screen, they’re looking at the others. What could this mean?

Someone spots the faint outline of a tiny crown perched atop the figure’s head.

And then, well, then it all makes sense.

There was always one Side that messed up everything, that made everything more complicated. There was always one Side that, if you thought about it, you could trace everything back to. There was always one Side that was told he was making the bad choice and yet, never seemed to learn.

They start to put together timelines, evidence, essay-length meta posts on how of course, this is the plan, why didn’t they see it before? Those that had disliked him from the start crow about how they were right, how everyone doubted them but look who’s laughing now. They point out how he’s become a Dark Side, maybe he was always a Dark Side, and how incredible would that storytelling be? To warn against the pressures of society’s expectations, the idea of good versus bad, or authentic versus forced. How of course, they’re wearing Virgil’s old hoodie because they’re the hated Side now. How they’re not looking at the screen because that’s not what they want, they want to be a part of the famILY.

Vitriolic rants. Accusations. Vent fics. The unsympathetic tag is overflowing.

Because who else could the villain be?

—————————————————————

Roman lives in the cold now.

His fireplace isn’t lit anymore. The door to the Imagination doesn’t work anymore. The blankets on his bed aren’t thick enough anymore. He drifts through a haze where only the emergency systems in his brain are online, where only the awareness needed to sleep, breathe, and move the little bits he needs to move are present.

He doesn’t know that there’s nothing behind the red door anymore, that when Janus and Virgil come to knock on it, worried, or when Remus storms through the Imagination and tries to knock it down by force, there’s nothing for them to find.

He doesn’t know that a new door, a black door, leads from his room to the hallway, far away from any of the other rooms. He doesn’t know that it’s so dark back here that no one would be able to tell there was a door if they didn’t put their nose right up against it.

He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care.

A new kind of ache settles in his bones now. Pain is an old friend, but he’s yet to give suffering a proper handshake.

He misses when he could go and ask someone for help.

He misses when Patton would turn to him without any judgment in his eyes, without any ‘well, you know, kiddo—‘, without any ‘let’s start off with—‘, just the soft words of I’m here, I’ll help you. He misses being able to walk up to Patton’s door and knock on it and know that he would be safe on the other side.

Patton would open the door and soften, his mouth curling up into a small smile as he says hey, kiddo, come in. He would sit Roman down on the bed and press a glass of water into his hands. He would rub his back as he drank, taking the empty glass gently and cupping Roman’s face in his hands. He would ask what’s wrong, sweetheart, what can I do? And Roman would say he just wants a hug, he just wants to not be alone for a bit. And Patton would smile and coo about how Roman was always welcome here, sweetheart, I’m right here, I’ll take care of you. And Roman could fall asleep with his head on Patton’s chest and believe that everything was okay.

He misses when he could walk up to Logan and ask for help and he wouldn’t be scoffed at or turned away, he wouldn’t be looked at suspiciously and asked what he really wanted. He misses when Logan could come to him too and just spend time together.

Logan would knock on his door and ask if you have a moment, would you like to walk with me? And Roman would smile and say, of course, he always has time for Logan, and they could go somewhere in the Imagination and just talk. And Logan would say that’s an interesting idea, I wonder if—and they would walk and talk for hours. And Roman could bustle up to Logan’s door and say I’ve just thought of something, and Logan would open his door and be happy to talk with Roman and it would be okay.

Roman curls up tighter and feels nothing.

He wishes he could have something to miss for Virgil. He wishes they could have bonded over their love of Disney, their want to talk about the things they’re interested in, or even the need to just have someone else in the room with them for a bit. He wishes their relationship wasn’t just spitting barbs at each other, each hoping to hit the bullseye first and knock the other one out of the race. He wishes he could’ve done better.

He wishes he could have something to miss for Janus. He wishes they could’ve done this right, that they could’ve bonded over the want to keep Thomas safe but also have him be himself. He wishes that he hadn’t laughed, hadn’t scorned, hadn’t fallen back on his pride to keep himself safe at the expense of Thomas. He wishes that maybe, just maybe, if he had been a better puppet, then he wouldn’t have been dropped so suddenly.

But as it stands now, more than anything he wishes he could hear them when they say the things they say about him because then he could figure out which bruises were theirs and take comfort in knowing that they still touch him in some way.

The bruises are a constant now. From the online hate to the casual remarks from the others to the way that Patton hasn’t even tried to come find him anymore—he can hear that, you know—he can’t turn over without landing on a new smattering of bruises. The hoodie helps to cushion the blow a little bit.

He misses Remus.

Remus was…

…Remus was everything.

Roman misses his other half. Roman misses his brother. Roman misses his Creativity.

When they were small they would curl around each other as if they could fuse if they focused hard enough. They would wrap their arms around each other so tightly that it would be a pleasant ache when they woke, never minding because they were tighter. Remus was always so warm and Roman hoarded every single bit he could get.

Roman was cruel to push his brother away and now he understands how it feels.

He misses Thomas.

He misses when he was allowed to go and see Thomas. When he could talk to Thomas. When his presence was celebrated or at the very least, tolerated. He misses it. He misses helping.

But he’s helping now, by staying away.

He’s cold.

He’s so cold.

—————————————————————

do you remember what it felt like

to be touched?

press of fingertips against shoulders

bump of a forehead against yours

palms meeting and parting a mere second later

in days gone by

do you remember

warm?

humans thrive off physical contact,

we’re not built to hold each other

at arms’ length.

infants will die

if they aren’t held enough.

and I am so

cold

—————————————————————

Something is wrong and even Patton can’t ignore it anymore.

The Sides shuffle uneasily in front of the red door until Remus raises his hand to knock against it.

“Roman?”

Silence.

“Roman, please, please, just—just say something.”

Silence.

“Where the fuck are you, Roman?”

“Don’t yell,” Logan mumbles, “you’ll make him think we’re angry at him.”

Remus takes a deep breath.

“We’re not angry, Ro-bro, we’re just—just please make some noise.”

Silence.

“…we’re coming in, Roman.”

But they can’t. Because as Remus turns the knob on the door, it falls forward. The entire door comes off just to reveal—

A blank wall. With no sign that there was ever a room behind it.

Thomas can hear the scream.

—————————————————————

Roman hears the scream and can’t move. But he can close his eyes and reach out and see what’s going on. After all, he hasn’t done anything, so something must be wrong if someone else is screaming.

He feels something in his chest twist and snap.

“Re?”

Across the Mindscape, Remus’s head jerks up.

“Ro,” he breathes, getting to his feet and rushing off down the hall as the others hurry after him, “Ro!”

“Remus, what’s going on?”

“Why isn’t Roman’s room there anymore?”

“Where are you going?”

They barrel into the hallway and smack into a black door. Logan’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s happened.

“Roman’s become a Dark Side,” he says, fingers scrabbling where the door meets the wall, “he’s—he’s really hurt, we have to help—“

“Move, L, I’m gonna break the door down.”

“You’re not gonna do it without me.”

“Roman!”

Roman turns his head to look at the door. Are they…here? The hoodie rasps against his undead skin and he winces. There are still bruises.

“Roman!”

The door shudders its frame. He could open it. He could. He just has to reach out and—

“Ro!”

Remus.

The door unlatches and his brother pours into the room, letting out a wail when he spots Roman in the bed.

Janus hisses as soon as he crosses the threshold, this room is freezing. It feels as if no one’s moved for years inside, as if the heat has been sucked out entirely. His gaze flies to Remus, who’s over on the bed, his hands scrabbling at something in black material.

Roman.

“Oh, little prince,” he whispers, horrified, “no, no, no—“

“We have to get him out,” Logan orders, startling Remus into action as he scoops Roman into his arms, “we have to get him warm. His core temperature is too low.”

“Shower? Bath?”

“No, if we shock his system we could make it worse. Janus, I need your heating pads, Patton, something warm to drink.”

Janus and Patton vanish.

“Virgil, weighted blankets, Remus—“

“I’m here.” As Virgil ducks away as well, Remus helps Logan cradle the limp and freezing form of his brother in their arms as they begin to rush out of that horrible, horrible room. “You thinking bathroom?”

“Get him to Janus’s, that’ll be the safest place.”

“Got it.”

Sure enough, Janus has no objection and sweeps them inside, setting down the heating pads as Patton bustles in with two thermos flasks and a mug. Virgil pops back with thick blankets as they lay the cold form on the ground. Roman’s eyes blink sluggishly as he stares up at Remus.

“...Re?”

“Yeah, Roro, it’s me, I’m right here, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here faster.”

“What’s…wha’s going on?”

“You’re too cold, Roman,” Logan says gently, “we need to get you warmed up.”

“Oh…”

“It will be easier if we take a few of the layers off,” he explains, still careful to keep his voice low and even as the others scurry around, “is that alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to unzip the hoodie.” Logan works slowly, patiently, stopping when any flicker crosses Roman’s face. “That’s it, you’re doing very well, I’m almost done.”

By the time he’s coaxed the hoodie off of Roman’s shoulders, there’s a little bit of color back in his cheeks.

“Very good, Roman, you did well. Virgil’s brought a few warm blankets and Janus has heating pads for you, do you think you can sit up?”

“Don’t know.”

“That’s alright, you’re doing alright.” Logan glances up at Janus.

“Little prince,” Janus murmurs, sitting by Roman’s head, “if you can sit up, I can sit behind you and help warm you up, does that sound alright?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, sweetie, we’re going to sit you up now.”

Logan and Janus sit Roman up slowly, only to pause when the long sleeves of his shirt fall down.

“Roman,” Logan asks, trying frantically to keep his voice calm, “are you hurt?”

“Mhm.”

He bites back the fearful response and patiently asks where, how bad, can he see?

“Everywhere.” Roman lifts his arms weakly. “’S all bruises.”

“…can we see?”

“Okay.”

Logan’s hands begin to tremble as he works the shirt over Roman’s head. He wasn’t kidding when he said everywhere.

There’s barely an inch of skin that doesn’t look bruised black and blue. Patton stifles a cry as he drops to his knees next to them, looking at Roman like he’s never seen it this bad before.

Oh, Roman, how did they not know? How could he just ignore him like that?

“Get him covered,” comes Virgil’s voice, “he’s still too cold.”

Janus grabs one of the blankets and wraps it carefully around Roman’s form. It should help distribute whatever pressure they apply so it won’t aggravate his injuries too severely. He takes one heating pad and scoots forward, bracketing Roman’s legs with his own and wrapping one pair of arms around him to press the pad to his chest.

“Can you feel that, sweetie,” he asks softly, “is that too warm?”

“No.”

“Good, good, little prince, you’re being very brave.” He turns away to reach for another and so misses the little shudder that goes through Roman. “Do you think you can handle another if I press it to the back of your neck?”

“Mm.”

“Let’s try, little prince, and if it’s too much, I’ll stop.”

“Okay.”

“Here we go, sweetie—“ Janus presses it carefully to the base of Roman’s skull, just at the edge of the blanket— “there, does that feel okay?”

“Mm.”

“Good, sweetie, you’re doing so well, so good for us, that’s it, you relax now.”

Roman starts to tremble.

“That’s alright,” Logan soothes, “you’re warming up, it means you’re going to shiver a little more, you’re alright, Roman, you’re safe. You’re doing well.”

It certainly doesn’t seem that way once Roman’s breath starts to come in gasps. Virgil nudges Patton out of the way and sits, gently calling Roman’s name until his gaze snaps to Virgil’s.

“Hey, Princey,” Virgil says slowly, “you gotta stay with me now, okay? We’re right here, no one’s angry, nothing’s going to hurt you. Just focus on me.”

He ignores the startled noises when Roman starts to cry thick, black tears.

“Eyes on me, Princey, that’s it, stay here. We’re just gonna sit here and breathe for a moment, okay?” Roman nods and Virgil starts to take big, exaggerated breaths. “Good. That’s it, Princey, you focus on me and you breathe. It’s okay. You’re doing great. Just stay here.”

When the viscous black liquid slows, Virgil reaches out and begins to tuck Roman’s hair back. A moment longer and he pauses, noting how the scratch on Roman’s face is covered in the thick black tears.

“Princey, can I clean your face off for you? You’re doing really well at breathing, I’m proud of you. Can I help you with the rest of it?”

“O-okay.”

There’s a bottle of micellar water and a pack of cotton circles pressed into his hands. He moves in slow, careful strokes, changing out the circles as often as he needs to. A pile of them grows beside him as he works, doing his best to get all the black off of Roman’s face. Roman just cries.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs when Roman’s cry gives way to a wail, “it’s okay, you cry all you need to, we’re not going anywhere, it’ll be alright.”

“We have you, sweetie,” Janus says against Roman’s neck, “we’re here.”

Remus lets out a broken noise.

“Oh, Roman, you didn’t…”

Logan’s head whips sharply around to scold Remus only for his mouth to fall open in shock.

Remus’s costume is bleeding too. The same black that drips down Roman’s face is slowly coloring Remus’s costume again, back to what it normally looks like. Remus’s mouth is agape, staring horrified at Roman.

“Oh, Ro—“

��What’s going on?”

“Check the bruises on his neck,” Remus orders as Janus pulls back the blanket, “are they still there?”

“They’re here, but they’re…lighter, how is that—?”

“Roman is the Ego,” Patton mumbles, “he gets bruised when—when—“

“Oh, shit,” Virgil curses, before quickly hushing Roman’s discontented mumble, “and with all the hate that’s been gunning for him—“

“Oh, sweetheart—“

Roman lets out another sob and the tears run clear.

“The Ego is kept healthy by positive attention,” Logan says softly, scooting closer and rubbing Roman’s shoulder through the blanket, “you’ve been starving, haven’t you?”

“He’s not cold because he’s hypothermic,” Remus blusters, “he’s touch starved.”

“It’s still not safe to introduce him to direct contact all at once,” Logan warns when Patton and Remus look like they want to rip the blanket off, “we have to take it slow.”

“So what do we do?”

Janus just leans down and presses a kiss to Roman’s temple. “You’re so brave, sweetie, you’ve been so strong.”

They watch as Roman’s tears begin to wash away the black.

“We love you, sweetheart, you’re so important to us.”

“Stay with us, Princey, we need you.”

“You’re doing very well, Roman, we’re very proud of you.”

Roman cries, ducking his head into Virgil’s waiting hands as Remus’s costume colors itself black again.

After a long while, when Remus looks like he normally does, Roman shakes his head and looks up at them.

“Where am I,” and he sounds like Roman again, “what’s happened?”

“You were starving, sweetheart,” Patton mumbles, “and we didn’t notice until it was too late.”

“O-oh,” Roman blinks, “is that…is that why I’m so cold?”

“You’re touch starved too,” Virgil adds, “and we, uh, L said it wasn’t a good idea to try and shock you out of it.”

“Try and drink something,” Logan says quickly as Patton reaches for the mug, “you’ve been crying for a while and you’re dehydrated.”

“Is that…hot chocolate?”

“Your favorite, kiddo.”

Remus sits down at Roman’s side as he drinks, staring at him like he’s not seen him in ages. Which, well, none of them have, really.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Roman repeats, looking sheepishly at all of them, “I, uh, well, the last video I messed up a lot. I, uh, I shouldn’t have laughed at your name, Jan—where are you?”

“Right here,” Janus mumbles, giving him a gentle squeeze, “and you’re forgiven.”

“Oh. Uh, that was easy…are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Yes, it wasn’t great of you to do, but I’m not exactly blameless either and…”

He squeezes him again.

“…you’ve been hurting enough.”

“Logan, you too, I—I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Roman, but I agree. It’s alright.”

“Why are you all forgiving me so fast?”

“Because,” Remus mumbles, cupping Roman’s head and resting their foreheads together, “this happened.”

They all watch as Roman shudders as Remus shows him what happened.

“Oh—oh—I—oh no—“

“It’s over now, sweetie,” Janus reassures, “we’ve got you. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“C-can I have a hug?”

“Of course, honey, come here—“

“Let’s get the blanket out of the way, L, is he—“

“It should be safe now, yes.”

“Remus, I—oof!”

“I gotcha, Ro-Bro.”

“It’s still—I’m still—“

“Patton, grab that end of the blanket.”

“This one?”

“That’s it, yes.”

The Sides end up swaddled in the blanket, their heads poking out, as each of them pulls a little bit of Roman into their arms to warm up. Janus and Remus wrap around his upper body, mindful of the few bruises that haven’t been healed yet. His legs are in Patton’s lap, as Logan and Virgil each hold on to his hands. The poor thing is still shivering, still shaking, still a little overwhelmed.

But Janus coos into his ear as his head lolls back, Remus holding him tightly. Logan’s thumb strokes over his palm as Virgil lets him squeeze as tight as he needs to. Patton makes sure he’s off the cold tile and he’s warm.

They’re going to have to work out what to do about the fans, about the videos, but right now they need to worry about Roman.

Speaking of Roman—

“I—I need to apologize to Thomas.”

A cry goes up as he says so, Patton reaching up to pat his knee. “You don’t have to do that right now, sweetheart, rest, it’s okay—“

“I won’t—he won’t be able to rest until he knows what’s happened.”

As if he can hear them, they feel the familiar tug of one of them being summoned. A quick glance around shows that if one of them is going, all of them are, so they appear on the floor of the living room, swaddled in the blanket.

Thomas’s mouth drops open and he rushes to their side.

“I was gonna ask if you found Roman, but I—Roman, buddy, are you okay?”

“I…I don’t know,” Roman mumbles, “but I’m sorry.”

“For what, buddy?”

As Roman begins to apologize, for being away, for hurting Thomas, for being selfish, Thomas just shakes his head.

“No, buddy, that’s not all on you. You—yeah, okay, some things happened, but it’s not entirely your fault. You don’t need to think of it like that.”

“Well said,” Logan mutters, “now help us get Roman to rest.”

“So what Disney movie are we watching and how many pillows do we need?”

A lot, as it turns out, is the answer. And they have to bite back laughs at the way Thomas makes a noise when he’s swept into the blanket too. But Thomas is warm and Roman is still cold and the movie plays on the screen.

“Hey, Roman?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my hero.”

General Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees

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#sanders sides #dragonbabbles #fic #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #remus sanders

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hihellogoodbyebruh · 3 years

Text

Mother’s Day Drabbles

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader, Miguel Galindo x Black!Reader, EZ Reyes x Black!Reader, Obispo Losa x Black!Reader

Summary: Four drabbles with my four favorite men from Mayans MC commemorating Mother’s Day with their loves.

Warning(s): Grief, loss of a child in the last drabble (sorry to my bishop girls) but the other ones are all fluffy goodness

Word count: 1,545

AN: It’s almost Father’s Day so y’know what sounds good? Reading some EXTREMELY late Mother’s Day drabbles!! lol. I haven’t posted anything in so long and these were in the drafts so here we are. Enjoy these random ideas that popped into my head. Trying to force myself to get into shorter form writing like drabbles and headcanons. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading! xo

Breakfast in bed - Angel (fluff)

“Daddy shhh! You gots ta be quiet.”

“Lo siento princesa.”

You fought to keep your eyes shut and not smile as they tried and failed at surprising you. You wouldn’t ruin their efforts so you just listened as they came into the bedroom and something was set on your nightstand.

It was silent for a moment before a ball of energy landed firmly on top of you, knocking the wind out of you and fully waking you up.

“Good morning mommy. I made you breakfast in bed.” Your beautiful little girl told you once she saw your eyes open.

A throat cleared and your eyes connected with your husband��s.

“Oh, Daddy helped too.” She added, getting comfortable in your lap as you sat up against your headboard and adjusted the bonnet on your head.

“Oh he did? Well thanks for helping Daddy.” You teased, as he took a seat on the bed next to you.

“Anything for you. Happy Mother’s Day.” Angel leaned in and kissed you on the lips once, twice, three times. The last peck lingered a little too long and the princess was not amused.

“Let her eat! The food is gonna get cold.” She grumbled, and you broke down in giggles. That daughter of yours was a sass machine and she stayed on her daddy’s head. He loved every bit of it.

“Okay, okay.” He relented, a grin on his face. Anything for his girls.

Coming home to a spotless clean house - Miguel (fluff)

As your driver pulled into the driveway of your large home, she sighed knowing your day had only just become. After a full day of work, she knew as soon as you stepped foot in the house you would need to pick up after the kids from their time running the nanny ragged. Then, you’d have to get dinner cooked before wrangling the kids to eat, bathe, and then sleep. No clue if you’d see your husband or if he was having a late night.

You loved your life. You loved your family. Sometimes things could just be a little tiring. But you put that smile on your face and you made your way into the house.

The quiet was the first thing to hit and surprise you. Your home was never this quiet at this time of day. You slowly walked further into the house, your nose guiding you to the kitchen where a delicious aroma caught your attention. As you rounded the corner, you were shocked to see your husband standing at the stove.

“Miguel?” You asked, confused at his presence and the state of the house. Everything was clean and put away. He was at home at a decent time and not off somewhere handling business. Something was going on.

“Hello mi amor.” He walked closer to you before grabbing your face and kissing your lips. You’d missed him today so you added a little pressure to the kiss, but it didn’t last long as there was a burning question on your mind.

“What’s going on? Where are the kids?” You asked, head swiveling, as soon as you ended the kiss, to see if you could spot them. You didn’t even notice Miguel maneuvering you onto one of the kitchen stools.

“The kids are in their rooms, dinner is cooking, the house is clean and you are going to enjoy this chardonnay I bought for you.” He handed you a glass and you took it without complaint. A sweet smile spread across your lips as you realized he did all of this for you.

“You do so many wonderful things for this family. I want you to enjoy your night to yourself. I will handle putting the children to bed and you will relax for the night. Your dinner should be done by the time I get back downstairs but in the meantime, I know you’ve been wanting to catch up on the new season of A Black Lady Sketch Show. It’s queued up in the living room.”

A kid wrangling free night? Your favorite tv show and wine? He already bought you everything you could ask for but this? This is so much better than any present he could have come up with. “How did I get so lucky?” You pondered, a dreamy smile on your face.

“I ask myself the same question every day. Happy Mother’s Day.” He replied, kissing you again before going to fulfill his promise.

Spa day for expectant mom - EZ (fluff)

Knowing what comes with being pregnant and actually experiencing the symptoms are two very different things. You don’t wanna say you underestimated things, but you were in the middle of your third trimester and you weren’t handling things very well.

“EZ!! EZEKIEL!” You hollered for him, from where you sat propped up on the couch. Your back was killing you, you couldn’t see your feet but you knew they were a hot mess, and you just generally felt uncomfortable. You knew it would all be worth it in the end, but the end was taking too damn long to get here.

Your boyfriend had been incredibly understanding of your constant mood swings. When you first told him you were pregnant, he went out and bought a bunch of pregnancy books. He was always reading one that first trimester. Angel would tease him and say he could just google everything, but EZ had always preferred having physical copies of text. He wanted to know everything you’d go through so he could help you deal with it.

You call him now and he doesn’t respond. You grow annoyed, but also slightly concerned because he never doesn’t answer you.

It took several tries but you manage to get yourself off the couch and head back towards your bedroom. When you push the door open, a wide smile breaks out on your face. The lights in the room were dimmed and your favorite candles were lit, bathing the room in a soothing scent. Songs from your ‘self care day’ playlist filled the otherwise silent air. On the bed was the biggest, fluffiest robe you’d ever seen in your life. There was also a basket filled with goodies including face masks, different color nail polish, massage oil, and your favorite snacks.

“What is all of this?” You asked your boyfriend who had almost as big a smile on his face as you did.

“You didn’t seriously think I’d just let your first Mother's Day go by with no acknowledgment, did you?”

You blinked somewhat in surprise. “I...I mean yeah I guess. My first Mother’s Day is next year. Baby Reyes isn’t even here yet.”

“So? You’re carrying our child. You gonna let me spoil you or you gonna keep making excuses why I can’t?” He asked, his eyebrow raised and a sly smirk on his face.

“Spoil away then.” You grinned, holding out a hand for him to take before pampering you for the rest of the night.

Cuddles - Bishop (angst, heed the tw up top please)

The ray from the television was the only light source illuminating the living room. You were laying on your side on the couch, eyes on the tv but not truly paying attention to it. The light from the tv reflected off the tear stains left in her cheeks.

Bishop came back from dealing with club stuff and leaned on the doorway just watching you. He knew it was a rough day for you. Everyday was hard, but today was especially hurtful. He’d be feeling the same way just next month.

He placed his kutte onto the armchair and slipped off his shoes before climbing over you. You jumped a little at his presence but he just gently nudged you up so he could squeeze between you and the back of the couch.

One arm slid under your head and the other rested on your waist as he settled in. The hand on your waist reached out and gently ran a thumb over the little face in the picture frame you held tightly in your hands.

“Our sweet boy.” He whispered, a sad smile on his face.

Your breath hitched and your shoulders began to shake as you silently cried. You missed him so much. The whole day you stayed inside hoping to avoid all the mother celebrations, but that didn’t help. The hurt ran deep and no amount of avoidance could stop it. This day was a special slap in the face and every year the last three years have been spent like this.

Bishop curled the arm under your head until his elbow laid on your clavicle. He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you tight against him.

“You’ll always be his mother. That love is forever.” He softly but firmly stated before pecking your shoulder over and over.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in at the feel of him squeezing you tightly. It was comforting. He was always holding you together. He understood your pain and even though it hurt worse some days than others, you knew you had to continue on.

But for right now, you would cry in your man’s arms and hope next year went better.

#mother's day drabbles #angel reyes #ez reyes #miguel galindo #bishop losa #obispo losa #black reader #hhgbyebruh fics

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bobohu4eva · 3 years

Text

Pink Lace - Preview/Chapter 1

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Master list

“Looking good tonight Candy.”

You rolled your eyes, frowning.

“Thanks Dave.”

Having your manager check you out every time you clocked in was one of the less fun parts of your job.

You didn’t clock in to make any kind of hourly pay, and your real name was definitely not Candy. As a dancer at a gentleman's club you made your money on a pole and in private lap dance rooms, but it’s whatever pays the bills, and as a college student being able to make over a thousand dollars a week working just two nights was worth it.

After checking in, you went back to the dressing room to check your makeup and outfit one last time and grab your money bag before heading back out to get your night started.

Saturday nights used to not be your favorite, but they had been for a few months now because of one customer. The first night you met him, his friends had dragged him in after getting dumped to cheer him up. When you sat down with the nine of them you already knew it would be a good night, judging by the *quite* expensive VIP booth they’d bought.

Your first impression of him wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, having met plenty of relatively good looking guys while working at the club and being quite used to groups like them doing birthdays or bachelor parties.

They were a fun group, and you found yourself actually having fun as they bought you rounds of drinks and perched you on their newly single friends lap.

That night his friends bought him a private room with you, and he’d been back to see you again every Saturday night since.

Baekhyun always arrived pretty early in the evening so you sat yourself down at the bar and made yourself look busy while you waited for him to show up. Tonight you were wearing a matching lace lingerie set along with a new pair of clear heels, and your hair straight down your back. With your nails done and your favorite perfume on to top it all off, you felt sexy as hell. On weeknights you didn’t try as hard, but on days he would be there you always made sure to put in a little extra effort to look as nice as possible. You told yourself it was just because he payed you so much, so you wanted to look your best. But you’d have been lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you wanted to impress him. Baekhyun, especially compared to other customers, was quite attractive. Having him fawn over you and compliment you always made you feel good.

You feel a tap on your shoulder followed by a “hey” and turn around to see Baekhyun grinning back at you.

“Hi Baekhyun” you smile back, getting up and giving him a small hug.

“Hi Candy.”

Standing in 8 inch stripper heels you’re slightly taller than Baekhyun, and you find his usual glasses + hoodie + cargo pants combo endearing. Despite being somewhere around 30 and therefore significantly older than you, you can’t help but find him cute, adorable even.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, already knowing your answer.

“Of course, you know what I like” you say, giving him smirk and running one perfectly manicured hand over his shoulder, and down his toned chest.

The whole time you touched him his eyes were fixated on yours, looking at you with an intensity you weren’t used to, something you’d noticed was unique to him compared to the other men you met there.

“Your outfit tonight it.. um..” he says, eyes now looking you up and down, almost drooling. “ I like it.”

It was the same thing every time he’d come see you. He’d buy two beers, one for him and one for you, and shorty after pay you $800 for an hour together in a private dance room. For any other guy it would be $1000, but he didn’t need to know that.

You made your way up the stairs towards the area of the club with the private dance rooms hand in hand, leading him behind you to give him the best view.

“Do you want me to dance for you today or do you just wanna talk?” You asked as you entered the room and took your top off, standing in front of him as he sat down on the couch. Usually you would dance for him for a few songs and spend the rest of the time sitting on his lap listening to him talk about whatever it might be that week but some days he just wanted your company and nothing more.

“Just for this song, I really like this song.” He said looking up at you with big eyes. So, you got to work doing your usual thing.

Getting into the rhythm of the music, you started swaying your body and slowly leaning towards him.

This time both of your hands find purchase on his chest and you move your body in a wave, giving him the full close up view of your bare chest.

As you lean back up you notice he’s slumped deeper into the couch and biting his lip, already thoroughly turned on.

“Holy shit” he muttered to himself, watching your nearly naked form sway in front of him.

The way he looked at your body was different too. Most men looked at you like nothing more than a piece of meat, something to use for pleasure and nothing more. Not that you minded, as long as you got your money, but the way Baekhyun looked at you as you danced for him was almost like someone observing a piece of art.

You rotated your body until you’re facing away from him, and bent down slowly, the curves of your ass on full display to him, making it jiggle a bit before bending back up and lowering yourself onto his lap.

“God you’re something else, I wish I could touch you.”

You noticed him sit on his hands, because of course he wasn’t actually allowed to touch you, you were only allowed to touch him.

Once you were situated on his lap, you started moving your hips to the music, causing his head to hit the back of the couch.

As usual, you could feel his dick straining against his pants as you rolled your hips over him.

“Fuck” you heard him whisper.

You knew how much he was holding himself back by the way he was sweating and panting. He was one of the few costumers who had never once tried to touch you, not even a little bit. Which you appreciated, but right now you felt yourself almost wanting him to, knowing that his reaction alone would be worth it for you to see.

So against your better judgement, and with the hope of a little extra money, you turn around, knees straddling his right thigh, and put your arms on each of his shoulders. You play with the hair at the base of his neck and whisper in his ear

“If you really want to, you can touch.”

You almost feel bad when you notice his entire body go rigid beneath you, eyes wide at your words.

“Are you serious?”

“I mean nothing too invasive please, but I don’t mind if you want to caress me here and there” you respond with a smile.

“Okay”

You see him swallow as you lowered yourself onto his lap again, this time feeling his hands make contact with the bare skin of your waist.

As you let your hips move with the music, his hands slowly wandered across your waist, hips, and sides. His hands on you were surprisingly warm, soft, and gentle. Under his gaze and in his hands you felt like your body wasn’t just being used for shallow, fleeting pleasure. You felt appreciated.

And this was exactly the problem with Baekhyun.

You knew that you liked him too much, more than you should like one of your customers. You shouldn’t be thinking about how soft and pretty his hands are as they make their way across the skin of your thighs.

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft.”

You smile, now facing him once again as you sit with your knees on either side of his leg. You feel his words in the pit of your stomach and your hands caress his shoulders and chest, only now with his hands gently placed on your hips.

A few body rolls later and the song was over, so you shifted your weight onto one of his legs, sitting down on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, and leaning into the couch.

“You’re gonna completely ruin me one day” he breathed out, making you giggle. “Why’d you let me do that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I could tell how much you held back and most guys try to touch me anyway so..”

“They just do it anyway?” His eyes narrowed.

“Yeah well I tell them not to and usually it’s fine after that”

You could sense his discomfort with what you’d just said, looking genuinely agitated.

“Yeah well those guys aren’t worth your time no matter how much they’re paying” he muttered so quietly you almost didn’t hear.

“This is my job Baekhyun, there’s bad customers in every job” you respond timidly.

He turned to look you in the eyes again, this time more intensely due to the proximity of you sitting on his lap.

“Do you like working here?”

“Please don’t ask me that.”

“You know you don’t have to, I can take care of you.”

With the way his eyes bore into yours and he gripped your thigh, you knew he was serious. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted by his words.

Nonetheless you got up from his lap and sat next to him, bodies no longer touching.

“You know that’s not how this works Baekhyun.” You cross your arms over your bare chest, feeling like you needed to hide.

You look down, not wanting to look at him as you continue.

“It’s my job to make you feel good and give you something nice to look at but that’s all it is. My job. I’m sorry.”

He knew you were right. He knew because despite coming to see you every week for a few months now, he knew nothing about you. You wouldn’t tell him any details about your personal life, hell he didn’t even know your real name.

He knew he was stupid to have let himself become so completely fucked over a girl who wouldn’t even tell him her name.

“It’s okay, I understand, I’m sorry if that was too far”

You look at him again, giving him a soft smile.

“How was your week?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

You soon find yourself back on his lap as he starts talking to you about his week, but you couldn’t help feeling guilty. You could tell what Baekhyun felt for you was more than just sexual attraction, and yet he knew nothing about you. He’d asked you general things and you’d told him you were college student, which was true, but you’d lied about which college you attended. He asked about what you were studying and you’d lied about that too, quickly changing the topic back to him and his life.

Every time he tried to get to know the real you, you pushed him away, and you knew he could tell.

It fell silent for a moment, until Baekhyun spoke up.

“This is for touching you” he said as he dug in his pocket before pulling out three hundred dollar bills and putting them in the waistband of your thong.

He didn’t look at you as he gave you the money. It wasn’t until he was done that he grabbed your hand, and gave you another intense look.

“Please, can I please just know your name?” He asked.

With you sitting on his lap, faces close together you saw the desperation in his eyes. He’d spent a decent amount of time with you now and you knew how badly he wanted to know more about you, how much he wanted to be able to get to know the real you.

The way he looked up at you, with that look in his eyes, you knew you couldn’t tell him no.

You sighed.

“Okay. I’m y/n.”

Shorty after your hour together was up, Baekhyun went home and so did you. Counting your money was easy that night; just the eleven hundred dollar bills he’d given you.

As you took your makeup off and got ready to finally sleep you couldn’t help but feel strange about Baekhyun knowing your real name. Despite how nice he smelled, how cute he was, and how kind, generous, and funny, and how you liked spending time with him more than any other customer, that’s still exactly what he was. A customer. Someone who walked into a club looking to pay hot girls in exchange for their attention. But at that point Baekhyun was your friend too. He’d been coming to see you for the whole summer, and you really did enjoy talking to him.

Is it okay for him to actually get to know you? Is it okay for you to want him to?

Next Chapter

A/N: Hello! This felt pretty short which is why it’s kind of a preview/first chapter but please tell me what you think :) and let me know if anyone wants to be tagged for the next chapter!

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo smut #baekhyun fic #exo fic

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