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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough.

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly.

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered.

“I like this one,” you said.

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…”

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed.

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head.

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut.

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #Dark Fic #dark!fic #reader x oc husband #fic #series #the devil all the time #of something beautiful but annihilating

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ghostlywritten · 3 years

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If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Twelve

James Potter x OC

A/N: At last, the long awaited chapter. Sorry for the wait, my laptop has been failing on me. Hope you enjoy.

Words: 3,8k

Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven

It was the last weekend before the beginning of the exams for literally everybody. The library was packed with not a single seat unoccupied as well as the common room, where people had even taken to sitting on the floor to study, the dorms being too sitfling.

I had been one of the lucky ones to get a seat at a table, revising my notes with James next to me.

"How do you brew the Elixir to Induce Euphoria?"

"You add shrivelfig, porcupine quills and stir four times anti-clockwise. Then you add a sprig of peppermint, Sopophorous beans and wormwood and stir six times anti-clockwise," James recited, twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers.

"That is correct."

"Yes!"

"Alright, your turn-"

"Hey, what about my reward?" James asked and I looked at him questioningly, "My kiss?" He pouted and I gave in almost immediately, not being able to resist his big earth-coloured eyes as I leant forward to press my lips against his.

"Hmm, that's it," he hummed approvingly and it made my face grow as I thought of him saying it during certain other circumstances. I was a girl, a sixteen year old girl, and of bloody course my mind would wander towards certain things that I could be doing instead of studying, now that I had a boyfriend...things, that I couldn't have had managed before on my own. And with a boyfriend as hot as mine I couldn't help but let my gaze linger whenever he stretched himself during Quidditch warm-ups, causing his shirt to deliciously rile up and reveal his abs, or watching him bite his lips whenever he concentrated hard on something, wishing he would bite me-

"Love? Cec? Hellooo?" James snapped his fingers in front of my face and I blinked. "Are you spacing out on me? Siriusly? After you dragged my ass to sit and study with you? Jeez, then ungratefulness stinks," he huffed in mock-annoyance and I shook my head to get the thoughts out.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"It's my turn. What colour does the Potion have and what is it for?"

"The colour should be a bright yellow and as the name implies, it's supposed to induce the drinker in a sudden euphoria."

"That is absolutely correct!"

"Of course it is," I replied arrogantly, flinging my hair before giggling. James smirked, leaning forward. "Come and get your reward then." My heart leaped in my chest but I managed to stop him with a hand on his chest. "Nah, I'm good," I teased with a shrug, briefly wondering where Marlene was. She would have been so proud of me right now. James frowned for a second before promptly throwing himself on me. "Uff, James!" I exclaimed, pearls of laughter escaping as he snuck his arms around me to lessen the blow of landing on the hard floor, pinning me down effectively with his body.

"How dare you reject my generous offer of rewarding you with a kiss?" James said gravely, chuckles drifting through his words, "You shall be punished with more rewards."

"Bite me!"

"Gladly!" I squealed as he started attacking my neck, nipping playfully at the sensitive skin.

"Can you stop with your childish antics?!” Lily's voice ripped through our laughter. She stood up with a peeved look, gathering her things. "Some people are actually trying to study!" She stormed off before any of us could form an answer.

James sprang up, adjusting his glasses as he held out a hand for me whilst looking after her. I brushed off any dirt from my clothes and went to sit down.

"I should probably go and check on her," he suggested and I wanted to ask why when he was already taking off.

"Alright," I said lamely to his back, watching until he disappeared through the portrait hole. I plopped back down on my seat, glancing at Alice, who was completely immersed in her notes, not even aware her best friend's departure. Looking down at my own notes, I tried to focus but my eyes kept drifting from word to word without taking anything in as my mind kept replaying the way James ran after Lily with little to no hesitation.

'You're thinking too much into it...

...I wonder what they are doing right now...'

I sighed loudly, frustrated that I couldn't let it go. Peeking at the only studious girl at the table, I stood up. "I'm...gonna go to the loo," I excused myself and left when I received no response.

Walking out of the common room, I promptly slapped myself on the forehead.

Was I really going to follow them like a creepy, insecure girlfriend? Obviously.

Was I going to find them with the head start they had now? Obviously not. Dumbass.

Glancing back at the portrait of the Fat Lady guarding our entrance, I pondered whether to go back inside or try looking for them. Lily was most likely heading to the library to join Remus at his study table that he had occupied since this morning. I cringed at my own behaviour when I decided to look for them. 'Im just making sure she's fine so I can focus back on my exams,' I reassured myself, 'Nothing creepy about tha-'

"Ow-!"

"Oi, Cec," Sirius greeted me gruffly, holding onto my arm until I steadied myself as he had bumped against me quite strongly, "Sorry about that. Didn't see you from the corner."

"It's all good," I replied, glad for the distraction as I straightened my robe and looked up at him. He seemed distraught, his hair unkempt and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. I would have guessed he had a good snogging session if it weren't for the sad glistening in his eyes. "Hey Sirius," I called softly as he fidgeted, already turning away, "Is everything alright?"

"Hm?" he looked over his shoulder, his expression carefully blank, "Yeah, of course. Everything is fine. Why?"

I shrugged, not wanting to point out how he seemed less than his usual joyful facade. "Just asking. Where you've been anyway? I thought we would study together in the common room?"

His face twisted into something akin to anguish and I furrowed my eyebrows. "I was with Reg..ulus," he said, turning away.

"Did som-"

"Look, I don't wanna talk about it," he snapped.

"Sirius..." He stormed off towards the portrait hole and I was left staring after a back for the second time this day. I felt the worry built up, sensing that something bad must have happened. Because, no matter how hurt or angry Sirius was, he was always very good at hiding it. Unless he was drunk or something major had happened. And since he didn't seem drunk right now...my feet started moving before my mind had been made up, walking back towards the Fat Lady and pushing every thought of James and Lily into the back of my mind. This was urgent, my platonic soulmate was in pain after all.

Stepping into the common room, I spotted the black-haired boy rush up the boys dormitory and steeled myself before following him upstairs, hoping nobody saw me step to left instead of the right passage towards the rooms. I tentatively walked down the small hallway I had never dared to step in in all my six years before, searching the signs on the doors for the Sixth Year's dormitories. Pressing an ear on one of the doors, I listened for any sound. Fortunately, there were some shuffles and the familiar voice of my friend cursing as he dropped something heavy. Just as I contemplated on whether to knock, the door swung up revealing Sirius, who had rid himself of his robe and jumper, holding a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand and the other tightly wound around the door handle.

"What are you doing?" he asked, narrowing his shining eyes.

"I-"

"Just leave," he grumbled, his voice tense as he was holding back the tears that hadn't fallen yet. Dread filled me now as he rushed past me to the bathroom, shutting the door soundly behind him. Something was seriously wrong. This time, I didn't hesitate to follow him, pushing back the cringe at opening a boy's bathroom and peeking in. The room was empty except for one shower cabinet in the far back where the water was turned on, running at full blast.

"Sirius, I hope you are not naked, because I'm coming in," I warned, giving him a second before I opened the cabinet to find him sitting on the floor, drinking from the bottle of Firewhiskey as the water pattered down on him.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" he mumbled, his voice thick and croaky from the burn of the alcohol, "I don't want to talk about it." He leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the water trickled down on his face and further, drenching his clothes.

"We don't need to talk," I said quietly, hoping he could hear me over the water, "I just wanna be here for you." And with that, I stepped in fully-clothed and closed the cabinet door behind me, sliding down next to him as I proceeded to get completely wet in a less than a few seconds. Sirius kept quiet, only raising his bottle to me before pressing it against his own lips when I shook my head, wondering which of the drops trailing down his face were from the shower head and which from his sorrowful eyes.

I wasn't sure how long we sat there but Sirius got up after what seemed like hours, clearing his throat as he lowered the water volume. "I'm...gonna get you the Invisibility Cloak so you can sneak out. Wait here." I nodded. "And don't turn the water off or someone might come in." I nodded again and he stepped over me, pushing the door open and disappearing from sight. I sighed as he left, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of my clothes sticking to my skin. He came back after a few minutes with cloak and wand in hand, casting a Hot Air Charm over me as I got up and turned off the shower head. It was completely silent, but somber in some way as we proceeded to walk out of the bathroom with me under the cloak and him at the front. He held the door open, squinting to see if I had passed and I mumbled a quiet 'thanks' when I was out.

Nodding, he stepped out as well, shoving his hands into his pockets, having dried himself as well. "I will...see you around," he said, a softness in his voice and slightly slurring, "I'm just gonna head to bed."

I nodded before realising he couldn't see me. "Okay. Sleep well, Sirius."

"You too."

Turning away, I took a few steps when I heard Sirius whisper my name. "Cec, I- thank you. For being there," he stammered, seeming uncharacteristically unsure of himself. I wondered then, how many people he had shown his emotional side before. Guessing from what I knew about him, I would say it dwindled down to the four people he kept the closest plus maybe Regulus. It warmed me, that he now included me into that circle as well even if I kind of forced him to as I had followed him around. "Cec?" he called out questioningly, his grey eyes flittering around as he pondered whether I was still there or not. I quickly stepped back towards him, carefully taking his hand and squeezing it slightly. "You're more than welcome, Sirius," I whispered and his eyes softened when I raised my cloak to let him see me for a split second. "Good night."

"Good night."

Walking down to the common room, I noticed a considerably less amount of people were gathered around to study, mostly Fifth and Seventh Years. But Alice was still there and even Marlene had joined her, though her face rested on her notes as she drooled on them, fast asleep. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I noticed it was past nine o'clock. The thoughts of Lily and James that I had pushed into the back of my mind resurfaced and I swept the room with my eyes in search of either of them. There was no way Lily would have gone to bed so early on the last days before the exam and I briefly remembered all the times we had together to study until past midnight for our O.W.L.'s last year. 'Was she still at the library?' But the library had been closed for an hour now.

My stomach grumbled in that moment and the sound resonated throughout the otherwise quiet room. I blushed, despite the fact that no one could see me under the cloak, as a few heads raised in confusion. Only now did I realise how hungry I was since I had missed dinner and also skipped lunch earlier this day. 'A quick snack from the kitchen it is,' I decided, walking towards the entrance and out of the common room. 'And on my way I can make a short detour to see if Lily actually managed to convince Madam Pince to let her stay past the closing hours to study. Wouldn't put it past her to play the Prefect Card for this.'

Skipping down the stairs, I took the corridor to the library and found it entirely deserted. I sighed relieved, not knowing what exactly I was relieved for, as I turned away to head towards the kitchen. The halls were empty and dark, with the occasional light of the half-moon breaking through the tall windows and I breathed in the fresh air of a summer night, enjoying the peaceful silence as I strolled towards the kitchen.

But the peace would only last for so long.

I reached the corridor with the painting of the fruit bowl, fastening my steps as my stomach gave another protesting growl. Just when I was about to tickle the pear in the painting, anticipating all the good food the elves would cook in a matter of minutes, the door opened from the inside, nearly banging against my forehead. I stumbled back as the door swung to the side, revealing James. My heart skipped a beat in surprise but also at the sight of twinkling eyes that seemed unnaturally light in all the darkness surrounding us. Grinning, I grasped at the hem of the cloak, ready to spook him when he turned back towards the kitchens, engulfing his face in a warm glow of light coming from the big room.

A shadow crossed his features and he held his hand out for Lily, who was laughing softly as she took it, letting him help her out of the hole. "Thanks," she said.

"You are very welcome," James replied with a grin as the door shut close, engulfing us all in a sudden darkness. I blinked, squinting in hopes to see better as my eyes adjusted. For a second everything was silent before the two started walking. Biting my lip, I followed them before I could think about what I was doing. 'We are all headed to the same direction, I can't help it that I need to walk behind them. And since I'm not hungry anymore- oh, who am I kidding, I'm starving,' I complained to myself, cursing my brain for having the urge to spy on the two in all my insecure glory.

They walked in silence for a while before standing on the staircase.

"Thanks for the food," Lily spoke up as they waited for the stairs to stop moving, "I really needed it."

"Figures. You didn't eat anything today," James replied.

"How do you know that?"

"Eh," I could practically feel him blush as he stammered for an answer. "I just saw you and Cec studying all day, so I guessed that you hadn't eaten anything yet. Cec hasn't at least."

"Right," Lily said quietly, walking up the stairs as they stopped moving. I followed silently, watching the moon reflect on her brilliant red hair and noticing James did, too. "You know, I was surprised how you two suddenly got together."

"Hm?" James hummed, looking at his shoes as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robes.

"I mean, one day you were asking me out and the other you were suddenly hanging around with her and started dating," Lily said in joking manner and James chuckled along, though I couldn't grasp the joke in it. "It was...surprising, yeah," she ended awkwardly and the mood turned somber.

"Well, I guess it surprised a lot of people," James chuckled again, seemingly nervous as he ran a hand through his messy mop of hair. "But, Cec is great. She is amazing, really," he added, his voice turning steady and gentle, tugging at my heart strings. I felt a smile form on my face.

"She is quite great, yeah," Lily agreed softly. Now I felt bad for eavesdropping. 'You're siriusly messed up, dumbass,' I scolded myself. But I didn't stop. "I'm happy for you guys. It's nice to see Cec so happy and seeing a normal side of you."

James scoffed, "Normal?"

"What?" Lily giggled.

"What side of me has not been normal before?"

"I'm just saying, it's refreshing to know a side of you that wouldn't enchant cupids to read me sappy poems and throw pink glitter all over me," Lily recalled, laughing to herself as James blushed beet-red.

"Well, normal is overrated anyway," he muttered into his tie, smiling as Lily bumped her fist against his arms.

"I kinda miss it," she said and I noticed her eyes widen as soon as the sentence left her mouth. James' lips quirked up, his eyes shining. "Do you now?" he asked smugly, laughing as she slapped his arm.

"I mean," she started but paused. The mood turned slightly somber as she fiddled with her sleeve.

"You mean?" James prompted almost eagerly and I bit my lip, the tugging in my heart strings turning to harsh pulls.

Lily sighed, "It's nothing. Just, now that I know the 'normal' side of you, the one, you probably show to your friends and Cec...I think, all the stuff you used to do was quite endearing."

James kept quiet for a second. "You mean, when I endlessly chased after you?"

"All the things you did to ask me out. The cupids, the flowers, the sweets...," I distinctly heard Lily gulp as she stopped and turned towards him, causing him to falter in his steps, too. "I didn't recognise it back then, but it must have cost you a lot of effort and I think that's sweet..." James held his breath. "...and a little bit excessive." They both chuckled lightly before turning quiet, staring at the other.

"So, it was not for nothing after all," James muttered softly, almost as if he were dazed as he stared into her eyes. I clutched at the cloak tightly, feeling cold all of a sudden.

Lily cocked her head to the side, strands of red hair gliding over her shoulder like ocean waves. "Yeah. It did not get me to say yes back then, but..."

"But?" James pressed, taking a step forward.

Lily took a deep breath as if she were preparing herself for something, "But...if I had known this side of you before, I might have agreed. To- you know." I stilled, my tight grip on the cloak loosening slightly. James' eyes widened and I could see the elation spread through his face even if he didn't smile.

"To going out with me?" he asked breathlessly. Lily hesitated before she nodded. For a minute, we all stood in silence as James stared at her, dumbfounded. Lily's eyes flickered around as if she were scared to get caught. "Anyway, it doesn't matter!" she stated, too loudly for the quiet atmosphere, "I mean, you are with Cec now and you guys are happy."

"Yeah...yeah we are," James said, still in stupor.

"Yeah, so..." Lily gestured forward, turning to start walking again.

"But what if we aren't?" James spoke up, causing her to halt in her footsteps. My heart stopped.

"What?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

It was James' turn to take a deep breath as if he were preparing himself for something, "What if Cec and I weren't happy?"

Lily furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean? You guys look besotted with each other."

"Yeah, that's the thing," James said firmly, determination flooding his features. "We look like we are besotted with each other. It was an act." I swayed slightly as if I had been punched in the chest. "It was just an act." It was just an act. The words seemed to echo in the hallway, pounding relentlessly into my eardrums as I stood frozen, staring the bespectacled boy.

"It was an act?" Lily asked incredulously. James nodded. She turned towards him fully in disbelief. "You were acting like you were together?!" James nodded again. "Why?"

"I was trying to show you a more civil side of me," he said and my eyes widened. 'Be civil' I heard my own voice resonate through my mind. I tried to keep my breathing even as my chin trembled. "I wanted you to see what kind of guy I am since you wouldn't go out with me. I wanted you to see the real me. How I would be if we were together."

Lily stared at him. "I don't even know what to say...," she trailed off.

"Since you appreciated all the efforts I put into asking you out, you could appreciate this as well?" James asked hopefully and I was starting to feel sick. It was just an act. Something in me shattered. I turned away, trying to shield the little, constricting organ in my chest from his words.

"But wait, is Cec part of this? How is she managing to pretend this whole time?" she pondered and James' face fell. Noticing this, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Is she pretending, James? Does she know about your relationship being an act?"

James tensed up, biting his lip as he glanced away and it was all the answer that Lily needed. Her emerald green eyes widened. "James...," she breathed in disbelief, "How could you do this to her?"

"Listen, Cec won't take it too hard," James tried as Lily shook her head in disbelief, "She knows it's nothing serious. We've grown closer, yes, as friends."

"I don't think she sees it like that," Lily responded and I chose that moment to walk away. Because she was absolutely right.

Chapter Thirteen

#james potter x reader #james potter x oc #James Potter #james potter fanfiction #Sirius Black #marauders imagine #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #Remus Lupin #Lily Evans #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #marlene mckinnon #harry potter #marauders

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veryreallyfuckinbad · 3 years

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FIRE AND MOSS // Daryl Dixon X Reader// CHAPTER 6

TW: Strong language, implied abusive relationships, injury.

The Greene farm basked in the light of the impending sunrise, coating the land in a blanket of oranges, yellows and pinks. Birds began to sing, chirping away, oblivious to the dead people stalking every corner, every street, hiding in every shadow. Your heart filled with strange nostalgia and envy,- you wished you could be as free and uncaring as the winged critters. A strange phenomenon began taking place when the apocalypse hit; the world ended only for people. Nature seemed to be thriving more than ever without people slowly but surely killing it. Vegetation grew from cracks of abandoned houses’ floors, apartments previously filled with chatter and laughter were now home to wild animals. Nature took back what was hers quicker than you expected, signs of her healing around every corner, in every single flower, weed, blooming tree, moss. Most of the previously heavily populated areas smelled like death, the sickly sweet-ish stench of rotting bodies, both of the ones that perished forever and the ones that walked. The forest and the Greene farm, however, smelled like the life you knew. Like carelessness, confidence.

Your feet made slow but steady steps, avoiding making too much noise- Daryl was asleep in his tent and the worst thing you could do was wake him up as he hardly ever got any shut eye. You were certain you were the only one awake, so you stepped through the grass with care, avoiding any twigs that could snap and wake the others up. As you made your way to Dale’s trailer, deciding to take watch duty, you heard a faint, familiar sound coming from behind the trailer. Jake heard it too, instantly tensing, ready to pounce at any danger that might cross your path. You signaled the fox with your hand to relax when you recognized the sound- it was crying. You peeked from behind the RV and instantly felt your heart drop.

Carol was sat on the wet grass, crying, her hands on her head as she tried to control her weeps. Deciding it’s best to let her know you’re there instead of sneaking up on her, you spoke in a half-whisper, “Carol? Are you okay?” when the words left your mouth you realized how plain stupid that question was. Her daughter, all she had left, was missing. Carol’s head whipped to face you, her eyes red and puffy from crying, her cheeks stained with many glistering patterns of where her tears rolled down. When she realized it was only you, she sighed with a mixture of relief and something akin to confusion. She tried, immensely at that, to stop herself from breaking down once again and gave you a sad, unconvincing smile. You dipped your head and took a step towards her, taking a seat beside her.

“I’m just so scared, (Y/N). What if we never find her? Or if we do, it’ll be too-“ her voice trembled, just like her hands did.

“Stop it.” You silenced her, choosing your next words carefully. “I’m not going to say that I have no idea what you must be going through- it’s true, but you’ve heard it a million times already” you looked at her and stared deep into her horrified eyes. “Carol, I know you’re afraid. I do. Hear me out, though; you’ve got two grade A trackers at your disposal.” You gave her a warm smile.

“You can track?” she asked, clearly surprised.

You chuckled lightly, “Nope. He can.” you stroked Jake’s soft fur and watched as Carol’s eyes lit up slightly and shimmered with a glimpse of hope.

“How can he do that? I-I mean,” she stumbled over her words, “what does he need? A scent?”

“He’s not trained or anything, but he’s fantastic at finding stuff.” Your hand left Jake’s head when he shifted and stood up, walking up to Carol and sitting between you and her. He must’ve felt how heartbroken she was because he lowered his snout down to the woman’s hand and after giving it a brief sniff, he licked it and bumped it with his nose slightly. You smiled with pride and happiness.

“See? He promised he’ll do his best.” You said and watched Carol’s eyes light up again.

Carol sniffled and dug in one of her pockets, quickly handing you the item she was looking for. It was a piece of fabric, carefully cut around the edges.

“It’s a piece of her blanket. I keep it in my pocket to at least have a piece of her with me.” She explained and handed you the soft fabric. You knew she trusted you- she wouldn’t give the last of what she had left of her daughter to just anyone.

“We’ll go search right now.” You smiled at her and felt her fall apart all over again, this time because of gratitude. She crawled up to you and wrapped her arms around you, engulfing you in a warm, thankful embrace.

“Thank you so much” she nearly cried again. You hugged back and whispered a soft ‘you’re welcome’. Carol let go of you to face Jake and look into his eyes with the same respect she’s given you. “Thank you, too.” She extended her arm to touch him and you were about to jump in to stop her, afraid of Jake’s response, but stopped when you saw him pull his head into her hand, allowing her to touch him. It seemed like he was comforting her, as well as reassuring her he’ll do everything he can.

The farmland was still covered in the pink-orange light when you returned to your tent to retrieve your bag, just in case you found something worth taking. You’d hoped Daryl was still asleep and worried that your shuffling might’ve woke him up, so you carefully stepped closer to his tent to make sure he was sleeping. With each step, it became increasingly more clear that the archer was, in fact, not in his tent- the zip entrance was left open. You didn’t want to be nosy…but you wanted to check if he was okay. At least that’s what you told yourself- you’ve always wondered how his tent looks from the inside. You couldn’t tell whether it was pure curiosity or the burning need to find out more about the man. Before you could poke your head inside, you felt a presence right behind you, looming over you. Daryl stood right behind you.

“Found what ya were lookin’ for?” he asked, his voice not carrying as much weight as you’d expected it to. He didn’t appear mad, just irritated. Or so you hoped. You tried your best to keep your cool and turn around to face him, taking a step back when you realized how close he was.

“Now I did.” You smiled at him but your eyes betrayed you- he could feel your anxiety and uncertainty. He was usually frustrated with how hard you were to read, but the look in your eyes seemed familiar, like he’s seen you do it before but couldn’t put his finger on it.

Ever since the night Jake allowed Daryl to touch him, he was more confused than ever. The archer couldn’t understand how you- someone who’s been through so much, more than you’d let on, could be so friendly and loving towards her group. She never took and only gave, thinking of her fox and the group before herself. There was one more thing he couldn’t wrap his mind around and it drove him crazy- why would she give him special treatment? She opened up to him and him only, never allowed anybody except him see her cry, gave him handmade gifts, trusted him with her beloved companion. Not that you didn’t annoy him at times, but everybody did. Sometimes, you didn’t know when to stop talking and while he tolerated it for the longest time, sometimes he just had to send you back to your tent to give him room to breathe. He loved that you never took it personally, always conscious of his need for space.

“What’s the bag for?” he eyed you and patiently awaited your response before adding, “Ya movin’ out?”

“Oh, I would never.” You smirked at him and crossed your arms. “You’d miss me too bad, Dixon” you teased and expected a grunt or shrug in response, but to your surprise he retorted.

“ ‘f course. Who would sit with me when I cry my eyes out?” he smirked back at you, clearly a jab for the time you broke down in front of him. You rolled your eyes and stood on your tiptoes to affectionately ruffle his hair, much to his displeasure. You enjoyed how you could crack jokes at each other now, he had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor that you found hilarious in his own, strange way.

“You know you love me.” You teased him while turning your back to him and walking away, finally about to go out searching. “I’m going out to look for Sophia with Jake.”

“I’m comin’ with ya.” He said matter of factly, as if you had no say in it.

“If you do, Shane won’t get off my ass for the rest of the day. He already dislikes me, just wait until I ‘unnecessarily take away manpower from the farm’ or some shit like that.” Everything you said was true. You got along with every resident of the farm, with the exception of Shane. He never began trusting you and didn’t even think of trying. He always tried to control the group, but you never listened to him, probably because of the lack of mutual respect. The only people anyone in the group took orders from were Rick and Hershel.

“He can try. Screw ‘im. I’m comin’ with.” His mind was made and you decided not to argue with the stubborn archer.

“To be fair, I can see why you’d want to spend time with me. I’m the shit.” You heard Daryl scoff and shake his head, but once you looked at his face more closely, you realized he was smiling. “C’mon, let’s get the horses ready.”

Hooves hit gently against the ground, the horse’s head swaying subtly as he walked. You felt quite confident on the animal’s back, but Daryl seemed anxious. His broad shoulders looked even wider as he tensed, cautious- he didn’t trust the animal. Jake trotted alongside your horse, occasionally running off to check something out, but always came back. Your trusty knife was sheathed and safely buckled to your pants- ever since you got it back, you didn’t leave camp without it.

“You know, you gotta trust the horse a little. At least try.” You tried to nudge him, but you knew it was futile. If you were honest, you just wanted the awkward silence to end. Daryl looked at you and raised his brows.

“These things are unpredictable though,” he began and shrugged, “Merle ‘n I once…borrowed a neighbors horse, he had a stable or some shit.” He smiled to himself “Fucker bucked me off ‘n I fell right on my ass.” He finished and looked at you, awaiting your reaction. When you burst into laughter all he do was shake his head and grunt in response. “Couldn’t sit proper for days.”

You chuckled some more, your smile so contagious that even he mimicked it. For some reason, he didn’t mind you laughing at his story all that much.

“So it is a childhood trauma?” you nudged him again, half-joking and offered him a playful smirk. To your surprise, that didn’t seem to amuse him, his smile quickly fading before he gave you a sad smile. You realized you probably hit a nerve with that statement. “I’m so sorry.”

“ ‘s fine. What hurt me more was yer laughing at my sore ass.” He turned his head slightly to look at you from the side with the same smile as moments before appearing on his face. Quickly, silence fell upon you once again. This time, it was almost deafening and you didn’t understand why- when you sat with him by the campfire, you felt completely comfortable in silence with the man. It was like the warmth of the flame engulfed you like a soft blanket and made you immune to the man’s frustratingly quiet nature.

Daryl grasped the reins tightly as if to comfort himself- the feeling of leather straps digging into his palm was strangely comforting. The hunter’s hair fell upon his forehead; it was growing longer. He didn’t care but wondered whether it was practical to live in the death-ridden world with strands of hair falling over his eyes. He glanced upon you, your eyes on Jake. You stared at the fox with such love, nothing but pure affection. Not in the way you’d look at a puppy or any other pet- you looked at him as a valuable, fully capable member of the group. You saw him as a survivor, and Daryl admired that. He watched as your hair swayed and jumped gently with every step your horse took. He was lost in his own thoughts while he gazed at you, he wondered why he couldn’t force himself to push you away or tell you to move your tent back to the group. He guessed that that’s what it was like to have a friend.

“So, since we’re gonna be riding for a long time” you began, cutting through the silence and Daryl’s thoughts as he immediately averted his gaze and hoped you didn’t catch him looking at you. You did. “Tell me something about yourself” you smiled at him sincerely.

“Ya sound like a god damn hairdresser” he scoffed and shrugged, “make sure to ask me how’s school, too.”

You chuckled and shook your head, giving him a side-eye. You awaited his response, but it never came. If you had to take one more minute of that awkward silence, you’d rather dig a hole and jump straight in.

“Let me start, then.” You began and rolled your eyes. “I’m (Y/N)” you heard him mumble a ‘wow’ underneath his breath and shushed him with a smile, “For real, though. One thing you might have noticed about me is I make horrible decisions.” You grinned at him

“Such as?”

“Like setting my tent up next to yours” you joked and heard him chuckle- it was a fantastic sound. It made you happy in all kinds of ways, maybe because it was so rare, it was special. “Anything, really. Laying on broken glass that one time”, you grinned at your dry joke, reminiscing about how that very day led you to meeting your new family, “I dunno, anything really. School, back when that was a thing, the people I hung out with, relationships.”

He stilled at that last word. Not because he was uncomfortable or unwilling to listen to her talk about it but because he was worried that someone hurt you.

“What d’ya mean?” he glanced at you curiously, “The relationship part.”

You smiled uncomfortably, unsure whether you should share or not. You mentally slapped yourself for letting that last part come out- you should’ve expected him to ask. Even though you’ve somewhat healed, talking about it out loud was never easy. Moss still grew on your heart.

“Oh, you know. Jackasses that, uh…” you stumbled over your words as Daryl watched you carefully, “Whenever they were mad, they took it out on me.” You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to show how confident you were, how you’ve healed. It was only partially true- sometimes it still hurt. “This one dude,” you began, this time with a chuckle, “got so pissed at me for wanting something stupid, flowers I think, for my birthday.” You smiled at him half-heartedly. Daryl stared at you and tried to decode your expression. He, however, was easy to read at that very moment- he was pissed. Not at you, but at the men you’ve been with. The archer guessed you didn’t want his pity, however. He knew it would only make it worse.

“Ya didn’t lie when ya called him a jackass” he smirked at you for a brief moment, “I get it.”

You’ve finally reached your destination- a small creek with a two-way path. Twigs grew out of the ground where the drop of a small trench-like pit began. Deciding it’s best to split up to cover as much ground as possible, Daryl took the left and you- the right path. You’d promised each other to meet at this very creek later on.

As the hours passed, nothing came of your search. Jake ran around, sniffing the cloth Carol gave you from time to time but found nothing, say for a rabbit that he promptly caught and ate. You couldn’t believe the girl was just gone, without a trace at that. You couldn’t allow yourself to believe that- you’d lose all the hope you had left. With a heavy sigh, you turned around and began heading back through the dense woodland, back to the spot you were supposed to meet Daryl at. The forest smelled fresh- the repulsive stench of death was replaced with the sweet scent of flowers and the gentle smell of grass and trees.

When you reached your meeting spot you looked around and quickly came to the conclusion that Daryl was still out looking. With a sigh, you hopped off your horse and tied it’s reins to a sturdy branch. Before you could sit down and relax, you heard a horrifying grunt coming from the trench. Sure it was a walker, you grabbed your knife and took careful steps, making sure not to slip on the wet, muddy grass. Jake beat you to it, running to whatever was making the noise and immediately beginning to shriek and call for you. Your legs moved on their own, not caring about being cautious anymore. When you arrived to where Jake stood, just over the ledge, you looked down into the hollow and felt your breath get stuck in your throat.

Daryl was trying to climb out of the trench, slipping on the mud and desperately grasping for any branch that could support his weight to pull himself up. He was covered in blood, his mouth was red and something was hung on his neck. Blood was trickling from his side and dripping on his pants, staining his shirt. He quickly noticed you and stared at you. He looked different, no life in his steel-blue eyes. None of the spark they usually had, they were glossy, confused and afraid. Thinking quickly, you grabbed onto a root sticking out of the ground for support and extended your hand to him. He looked dazed, as if unsure what to do, whether he should grab your hand, but quickly decided to do so. You felt his strong grasp on your wrist as you tried to pull him up, heaving and wincing from the pain of his grip on your wrist. Your feet began slipping and you almost fell down the trench. The grip of his hand was so strong that you were sure he would eventually break it.

“Hold on!”

You braced yourself and with one last, painful pull he was out of the creek. He laid on his back next to you, both of your chests heaving and breathing deeply. You didn’t allow yourself to rest though, quickly kneeling next to him and inspecting his wound.

“What the hell happened?” your eyes were full of fear and worry, “Daryl, talk to me. Please.”

He grunted, clearly in pain and in a feverish state.

“Arrow. Fell on it”

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A/N: I'm so sorry this took me so long, I was super busy and then had a massive writer's block. This chapter definitely isn't the best but I promise the next one will be much better! <3

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taglist <3

@writers-adversary @kimchiwen @mileysnavely @srhxpci

#daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x y/n #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x oc #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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sicjimin · 3 years

Text

A.N : another mpreg story since someone ever .. ask me about taegi. i dont even know what it is since i wrote part of it mindlessly so i am sorry if this is not great T.T and beware of lame ending ((i really dont know how to end a story)) yeah, i hope you like it and haven't get sick of my mpreg stories ... enjoy~ (this from my draft)

another A.N : to everyone that has been sending a request to me.. pls be patient and bear w me im sorry T.T im working on it slowly since my clinical round has started and my brain has been clouded ..

TW : emeto, graphic description of vomiting, mpreg

Yoongi's fingers curl tightly on the white porcelain as he inhales a wave of nausea. He propped his head on his shaky hands as he brushes his bang back when his body pitches forward with quiet gurgles of his breakfast sliding from his mouth, morph into a brown thick mess on the sink. He inhales a quick breath before he burps more of his stomach content. He shuddered when he could taste the remnants of what he just ate, making his stomach twisted and bring a copious amount down to splatter on the sink. He took a glance at the watch on his right wrists through his glassy eyes. He sniffles. He still has 5 minutes until he needs to be back on the shoot. He quickly rinses his mouth and freshens his face, getting rid of whatever evidence in his face that might indicate he just gets sick as fast as he can. He swallows thickly another urge of vomit that still wants to come out—no, he can't be sick again. he needs to stop because the shoot is waiting.

Yoongi walks out from the bathroom and joining the other that seems like didn't notice when Yoongi disappears for a moment. He plopped himself beside his boyfriend, resting his head on the younger shoulders. He not gonna lie, this pregnancy makes him more clingy. Taehyung turns his head from his phone when he feels the weight on his shoulder, "Hyung?"

Yoongi hums before he tilts his head, "The shoot hasn't started again?"

"Nope, the director still searching for some props", Taehyung answers as he observes his boyfriend that keeps sniffling. " Why are you keep sniffling? Are you catching a cold? sick?"

Yoongi curses his nose that still runny after earlier, "No", he clears his throat in nervousness. He can't make Taehyung—and another member is worried about him being sick, or this shoot would be canceled, knowing Namjoon and Seokjin. Yeah, ever since they found out about his pregnancy, he feels like he's having 6 boyfriends. "My nose is just .. runny. That's it", Yoongi mustered a wide smile, hoping that it would convince the younger. Taehyung didn't eat that half-assed reason. He just gonna point it out but the director cut him off.

They stepped back to the shooting. This time they need to pose while drinking water as it's commercial for kitchen and house supplies. It takes Yoongi the second take of shoot when his throat clogged up, battling between drip of water that could get in or vomit that rushing up. He quickly clamped his mouth that immediately damped with what seems like water after he squelches. He mumbled a short "sorry" before running to the bathroom, again.

Taehyung that has been looking from the side scamper on his feet and followed behind. He managed to catch the older that just burst one of the stall doors and positioned himself hunching over the toilet just in time as water sprayed from his mouth, leaving him coughing after at how uncomfortable the sensation. Taehyung walk in and wrapped his arms around the older torso, keeping him from fall over, looking at how harsh the wave that erupted from Yoongi's body. Taehyung's free hand massaging Yoongi's nape as he retches another stream of clear liquid.

"Gosh hyung, you're only throwing up water", Taehyung murmured, " Have you even eat anything today?"

Yoongi pants and spits the acid saliva in his tongue before he nods, "I have but i already throw it up earlier". Yoongi's breath hitched when his stomach clenched again and gurgles a new round of water up. He shuddered when he could feel the bitter taste of bile slipping on his tongue. He stared blankly at the murky water below and catch a yellow pile there. Ah, he's already empty. But the baby inside of him seems like didn't know that since it keeps making him gagging, making his throat starts to burn as he didn't have anything left except for bile.

"I think you're already empty, sweetheart", Taehyung murmured, looking at his boyfriend that only gagging emptily. Yoongi huffs before he straightened his body and slumped against the wall. Taehyung flushed the toilet and squatted beside the older that now buried his head. If Taehyung is not mistaken, he could hear a sniffling, " Hey, are you crying? What's wrong?", Taehyung brushes his fingers to tucked the older hair and get him to lift his head but it got batted away. Yoongi shakes his head, trying to conceal his emotion but Taehyung's soft voices just make him sobs louder.

They stay like that in silence for few minutes until Yoongi calmed down. Taehyung knows better rather than pressing his boyfriend at times like that. "Do you want to get out from here? We can back to the dressing room or even go home?", Taehyung pleas. As much as he wants to stay with his boyfriend, he thinks that it will be much better if they properly sit down in a comfortable space, not in bathroom stalls. Yoongi sniffs, " My stomach still kinda queasy. What if i need to throw up again?", he mumbled as he rubs the bump that has already shown a bit, "I don't want to run here again. 'm tired, Tae"

"I can get you a trashcan or bag if you're gonna be sick?"

Yoongi pouted deeper, "No, it's gross because i can see—", he shut his eyes at the thought, it makes his stomach twist immediately. He belched emptily into his palm, " No, just. I can't. I don't want it. I rather stay here"

Taehyung sighs, "Then what do you want, hyung? We can't stay here forever"

"Do you think we can go home early?", Yoongi pouts, " I mean, maybe i can finish my shoot and then we go home? You're finished with yours, right?"

Taehyung nods, "Okay, I will try to ask to Namjoon-hyung first", he stands up and stretches his arm for Yoongi to stand up too. " Now let's finish your shoot, hyung"

—

They end up going home early since Namjoon didn't give any fights about it—even encouraged it when he locked eyes with Yoongi that already gone pale. Taehyung tossed his keys and coat on the couch before he walks back to where his boyfriend run when they arrived. Bathroom.

"Our little bean here really giving you a hard time, huh?", Taehyung murmured as he found himself rubbing Yoongi's back as the older retches his food to the bowl, again. Yoongi didn't give it a response, too busy to control his stomach that twisting and worked hard to expel crackers he managed to nibbles earlier.

This round finishes rather quickly, but still sucked out the whole energy out of Yoongi's body. "Tae, i really don't want this, I'm tired and my back hurts for always hunching over to throw up. I feel gross and my stomach hurts too", Yoongi rants as he flushed the toilet and wipes his runny nose. It starts to hurt, maybe leaving faint red marks. Taehyung smiles fondly, guilt starts creeping inside him—he wishes he could do more rather than rubbing and comforting his boyfriend when he's sick.

"I'm sorry baby, you're so strong to endure all of this. Just a few months more", Taehyung brushes the older hair that sticks on his forehead, "Hyung, you got some of it on your hair, do you want to take a bath first?"

Yoongi nods, "Yeah, I think I will. I feel hot and gross all over"

Taehyung stands up and turns the warm water on their tub, "Do you want something for me to prepare?"

"Milkshake", Yoongi mumbled softly, almost like a whisper. " What? Come again hyung, i didn't hear you"

"I want a milkshake ..."

Taehyung bites his inner cheeks as he tried so hard to not coos as his boyfriend that fiddle with his sweater and pouting so hard, "Is your craving season already starts, hyung?"

"Go away", Yoongi whines, but he can't help the faint blush on his cheeks that getting redder as Taehyung finally breaks in a laugh. His eyes widened when a soft kiss land on his lips, " No need to pout so hard hyung, milkshake it is"

"Anything else?"

Something flashes in his mind but Yoongi decided to hold back for later or Taehyung will tease him more, "No, that's it. Now shoooo, you have a milkshake to get", Yoongi pushed the younger out of the bathroom and laughs when he heard his grunts from the outside.

"Hyung, what flavor do you want?", Taehyung shouts from the outside.

"Vanilla!", Yoongi shouts back. He stifles a laugh again when he heard Taehyung yelps as someone seems to scold him, " Jin-hyung! i shout because Yoongi-hyung is inside!!", he heard the younger whine.

"Okay hyung, i will go now—Jin-hyung stops hitting me! yes i am going now!!"

Yoongi now goes on full laughing as he relaxed under the warm water.

Yeah, with Taehyung and the rest of the members, he thinks he could get used to all of this.

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!yoongi #caretaker!taehyung #and again another mpreg fic

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widowsofchaos · 4 years

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The Wolf, The Widow, & Their Angel

Writing’s Game created by the baddest, Roo! @darkficsyouneveraskedfor *screams like a feral banshee* tHe BaDDesT BiTcH sHE iS!

~my given prompt~

Pairing: dark!BuckyNat x black!Reader

Summary: You start to dissociate looking through windows, and it concerns your captors.

Warnings: ddlg relationship, forced age regression, mentions of spanking, water sports, and kidnapping, eventual Stockholm syndrome. a dash of yandere behavior.

a/n: hiii, so glad im finally into the swing of writing, and I really wanted to dive into this writing challenge made by Roo! Trope: Snowed In // Item/Location: Windows. Seems really fun, and gives a chance for people to explore different kinks and scenarios given to them! So I hope you enjoy! There has been things changed for sake of the story, like cause fuck canon sometimes, right? Muahaha💋

do not repost my works!

Snowflakes hit against the windows, sounding like tiny BB bullets as the bellowing winds harshly beats against the bullet-proof glass.

Ever-growing thick piles of snow surrounded the Avengers compound, as New York City is under attack by one of the worst snow-storms the city has ever endured in years.

Airports are temporarily shut-down, so are local businesses, the streets deserted with no sign of life. Nature’s cold wrath forces citizens to self-quarantine, and celebrate Christmas indoors, snowed in for perhaps a few weeks.

So much for your grand escape.

Six months you have been held captive, and forced to prance around like a living doll. A toy to satiate your captors’ sexual appetites and deep-rooted needs to protect ‘an innocent angel like yourself.’ As you sit here on the cold floor of the living room, battling boredom, and your solemn thoughts, mindlessly chewing on the pink paci in your mouth, you didn’t hear one of your captors and one of their accomplices walk in.

Fidgeting in your white onesie that had multiple crayon drawn rainbows printed on it, as you try to find some comfort - your buttocks still stung from this morning’s spanking. Your coco-brown buttocks peaking from your onesie, your diaper peaking from the edges, deep purple and yellow bruises painting your skin were apparent. That’s the abuse a metal prosthetic can inflict.

Your bronze skin now shiny with lotion to soothe the burgundy raw welts. You can barely sit still, rocking back and forth to relieve some tension. Sniffling trying to zone out in your mind.

Your hair was in two split curly pigtails, each split of massive hair clipped with two pink bows. Your index finger twirling in your chocolate curls, as the other hand was toying with the fabric of your white booties, with tears in your eyes, trying to imagine time spent with your real family.

Are they okay? Do they miss you? Have they been searching for you?

You can still recall the day you were kidnapped, it was a blur, it was so quick,

As the two perpetrators waltz silently towards you, as your back facing them, suddenly one of them playfully pull on your pigtails.You gasp, your eyes wide as saucers, as your mouth opened, your paci fell on your lap. Your day-dreaming shattered, as if you were high in the clouds then held by the calf and dragged right back to reality.

“Hey baby.” A husky velvety voice spoke against your ear, your heart hammering harshly against your chest. It’s him, the former Winter Soldier, his close companions call him Bucky, but you’re forced to call him daddy.

“Uncle Steve told me that you have been sitting here for hours” he brought his thumb to wipe away a tear you didn’t realize began to fall. You glanced over your shoulder to see Steve standing by the door-way smiling adoringly at the sight of a daddy and his baby, leaning against the door frame, with his strong hands stuffed in his jean pockets.

You felt menacing cerulean blue eyes burn a hole in your skull, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from yours even if he tried. To him, you were perfect. You were a gift from God, an angel sent to ease his burdens along side his wife, Natasha. You couldn’t bare looking into his eyes, too intense, too suffocating. A flash of affection beamed across his eyes.

You whined, shuffling as best as you could away from your captor, “Baby, you dropped your paci.” Bucky plucked your pacificer from the floor, bringing towards your chapped lips, “Now it’s dirty, my sweet baby can’t have a dirty paci ...” he trailed off, the rims of your eyes slightly red, glossy from the forthcoming droplets.

He knows why you’ve been crying, he had to punish you this morning. You were trying to act like a big girl, and refused to be bathed, insisting you can clean yourself as an adult.

A smirk slowly crept on Bucky’s bearded face, he noticed you was leaning forward, preventing any bodily pressure to increase on your sore ass. “Is my baby’s cute ass sore?” His nose brushed against your cheek, a guttural moan vibrated in his throat, inhaling your scent; his hot breath fanning over your tear-stained face.

His pink lips hairs away from yours, growing agitated that you didn’t respond, he gripped one of your pigtails with his flesh hand.

You yelped in pain, your button nose scrunched, brows furrowed deeply; the prickly pins and needles sensation scorching throughout your scalp, as Bucky held your hair in a death clutch. “Answer your daddy! Is my baby’s cute ass sore?!” Bucky snarls like a beast.

You choked back a sob, forced to look into his cerulean blue eyes, clouded by grey storm clouds. His pupils dilated, his nose flared, not to further infuriate the former soldier, “Ye-yes, daddy -” your throat tightened in fear, “my butt is sore.” Satisfied that you answered sweetly, Bucky relinquished his hand, kissing away your tears with feathery pecks, “Don’t cry, my angel.” His voice lowered softly.

His stubble tickled you, but you resisted a chuckle in your throat along with your untamed bile, he shushed you, “Don’t cry, baby. Daddy’s sorry he had to get loud.” Bucky cooed, talking to you like you were a toddler.

Your sobs quieted down, now simmering to hiccups, as he pulled you flushed against his broad chest. Even when he cradled you, his physicality reminded you, that you can’t escape.

Bucky is at least, two hundred pounds lean, built into massive biceps, and sculpted abs. You can’t fight him, nor her. Natasha’s physique is slender, but she’s toned.

Enquiped to defeat any enemy, a master in trickery and slealth, able to disappear within thin air like her husband ... many have fallen for sadly mistaken the Russian for beauty over brains ... don’t underestimate the former assassin. You already learned your lesson.

Your delicate fingers gripped his red Henley shirt, the cotton fiber bunching between your brown fingers, as you whimpered, your cheek squished against his frame.

Bucky sported a smug smirk on his stubbled jaw, glancing to his oldest best friend. A chuckle was breathed out of Steve’s nose, knowing the breaking down method was slowly progressing.

Steve knows that this is what Bucky, and Natasha needs in their life. Something innocent to protect, the couple hasn’t had a pure light in their life for years, so it’s understandable that for the first time they encountered you, they had to have you.

It was fate.

Indeed the meticulous harsh punishments was working. No matter how hard you tried to fight back, and resist the urges to succumb to their sexual pleasures, your mind was betraying you.

There has been moments of your compliance, calling everyone by their designated names. Natasha as your mommy, Bucky as your daddy, and the rest of the Avengers as your uncles and aunt. Letting your uncles and aunt baby you, feed you, play with you, and punish you if needed too.

Let’s just say, the punishments were just as equally barbarous. Wall-seats, harsh spanking, knees on raw rice, gas lighting, slight choking, knees resting on raw rice, electrical nipple clamps as your head will be dunked in water, that’s Bucky’s go-to if his patience runs dry.

And a few slaps here and there if you cuss everybody out.

Natasha’s favorite is clit cream, it causes severe itching on your pussy, you would rub your mound on any solid surface to relieve yourself to the point of your vagina being raw, and irritated.

How does the sadistic couple help the itching and burning stop? Take turns squirting their piss directly on your clit.

Shame and humiliation has become your constant demons.

Bucky’s red shirt had a strong but subtle smell of mint, and oak. You rubbed your nose into the shirt, it’s calming your frightened senses, as numerous flashbacks of pain came flooding your shattered mind.

“Awh my baby, loves holding her daddy.” Bucky spoke into your brushed curls, you didn’t realize you were practically clinging to Bucky like a baby kola. Bucky nuzzled his nose into your curls, his eyes closed, relishing in this rare moment.

Bucky’s strong biceps slithered around your petite waist, you involuntarily clutching your arms around his neck for support. His open palms calmly rubbed circles under your thighs, but close to your painful bruises.

You flinch at the close proximity of his fingertips grazing your abused flesh. It was his reminder of how quickly his temper can switch.

Don’t misbehave.

You prefer to seek his approval, to fall on his good graces.

“D-daddy?” you crooked into his now tear-stained shirt, the dampened spots now a deeper shade of red, you sniffled, scared to look him in the eye, “Yes baby?” Bucky’s smirked.

“I wanna look at the windows more. The snowflakes are pretty.” You hated how your voice was trembling, and trailing into little space.

You’re conversing with Bucky as if you were a toddler. One discovery you stumbled on during this ordeal is that deep inside the crevasse of your mind, there’s a little girl.

Sub-space, or little space ... you knew you had it, which in turn, helped you adapt to your new environment from time to time. Catching yourself enjoying being pampered, no longer being burdened by of the problems that come with being an adult. No longer do you work, you hated your office job. You gracefully fall into a space of hazy clouds.

Bucky’s brows furrowed, a bit befuddled, as his eyes pleaded with Steve’s, who in return shook his head, no.

Steve brought this new found habit of yours up to Bucky and Natasha earlier, whenever you were punished, you hide away to look out the windows.

Steve realized that you were probably dissociating. That worried everybody, it means you were suffering from not accepting your new life, clinging onto your old one, and if you’re in pain, Bucky and Natasha are in pain.

You’re more than their little girl, you’re their missing third. Their companion, their angel, and even if you rebuke it, your best friends. Many occurrences, Nat and Bucky has confided to you about their dark pasts, revealing secrets not even their close team mates are aware of.

To gain your trust, and your sympathy, to show despite their cruel punishments, they are broken humans emotionally dependent on you. In any bond between lovers, that’s your best friend.

Out of love — tough love, but love nonetheless.

Bucky’s lip formed into a thin-line, “No, baby. Uncle Steve told me you do this a lot, you know he’s worried about you? So is everybody else, you haven’t even eaten since this morning” Bucky’s voice got stern, but it was contrast to his facial features softening. His brows now slanted in-ward, demonstrating his distress.

It’s the truth, you’re co-dependent on bullet-proof glass. You can observe the outside world. It helps you escape to your imaginary getaway. Whatever your heart desires, your brain creates unabashed scenarios of being surrounded by your family, and friends.

But more recently, you imagine poppy fields, sleeping in high-end stocks of flowers — but soon the demons roam in search of you, and the sky darkens.

“No, baby. No more windows. Ever again.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, you gasped. You were ready to beg, plead to stay on the floor just a little while longer, “Now it’s lunch time. I can hear my little angel’s tummy growling.” Bucky patted your belly gingerly, with no hesitation, he scooped you in his arms lifting you in the air.

Instinctively you locked your legs around his waist, your eyes never wavered from the frosty chilled windows. Your body began shaking, choking back pitiful sobs, as you ducked your head in Bucky’s neck.

“Maybe she needs a nap, she’s been crying all day.” Steve recalls hearing you sniffle since this morning, after getting a spanking. Bucky’s thumb rubbed circles into your shoulder blades, cooing you to settle down.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bucky kissed your scalp, “she’ll feel better when she wakes up.” As the two soldiers discussed about you as if you weren’t present, you just went limp, your legs dangling. If it wasn’t for Bucky’s inhuman strength, you would’ve fallen.

What’s the point in fighting anymore? Your body is worn, and your brain is fried. There’s no escape, for years you thought so highly of the Avengers, but you learned that they were not so righteous.

Steve noticed your eyes were dull, it’s blank. Steve subtly caressed your cheek, as he walked by Bucky’s side. A small lopsided smile curved at your lips, but Steve was still worried.

Finally reaching Bucky’s apartment, Steve helped open the door as Bucky was pre-occupied holding you, “Steve, can you wash her pacifier for me?” Steve nodded, taking the pacifier from Bucky.

As Steve reached the kitchenette, to wash the paci in the sink, Bucky went to your bedroom. A custom made state of the art bedroom, the walls covered in white wallpaper with multiple printed teddy bears. Fuzzy pink carpeting, stuffies galore spilling out of the bin, toys ranging from blocks, puzzles, coloring books, barbies -- you name it, they spoiled you.

Bucky cooed in your ear sweetly as he laid you down in your custom crib, the plush mattress welcomed your body. You whined a bit, a few tears falling, “Hush, baby, it’s okay. Uncle Stevie is bringing your paci.” Bucky caressed your arms, and face trying to cal, your nerves.

Your eyes were droopy, mental exhaustion overpowering you, but you were resisting sleep. You started rubbing your eyes, as if you were a restless toddler refusing naptime.

Bucky and Natasha also has been popping sleeping pills, bladder weakening pills and birth control pills in your milk. To set your body on schedule, so you can learn to adapt using a diaper. Fall sleep at proper time during the day.

Steve entered the bedroom, to see Bucky trying to stop you from your agitated state. “She’s fussy.”Steve’s tone was laced with concern, he quickly gave Bucky the paci, and you shut your mouth. “It’s okay, baby. It’s your paci, say ah.” Bucky was trying to persuade you, you hated that you were becoming dependent on it.

You pouted, Bucky sighed. Once again, he had to resort doing it the hard way. Bucky pinched your nose shut, preventing any oxygen, after a few seconds, you had no choice, but to open your mouth for air.

You gasped, and Bucky took advantage, quickly popping the paci in your mouth, shutting your mouth with his palms. You whined, as Bucky kissed your forehead. Bucky tucked you in, “I love you, angel.” With that Bucky and Steve started leaving the room, turning the light switch off, and closed the door behind them.

Darkness and silence looming over you, your eyes drooped shut, drifting into a dreamless slumber.

***

It’s been over an hour of naptime, and finally Natasha returned from training. She entered the apartment to see Bucky sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. “Bucky, what’s wrong?” He lifted his gaze up, and Nat saw tears in his eyes.

Nat dashed to her husband’s aid, sitting next to him on the couch. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Nat was growing increasingly worried, “Our angel hates me.” Bucky croaked, his voice was hoarse. Natasha pulled Bucky into her arms, Bucky sniffled as he sunk himself into her chest.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s still learning.”

“You didn’t see the fear in her eyes today. Her eyes looked dull, as if she wasn’t there. Even Steve saw it.” Bucky wailed in Nat’s arms. “It’s okay, she’s not broken. It’s not a quick procedure to get our angel. She will realize this is what’s good for her.”

“I just want her to be happy with us.”

“I know, Bucky. Me too.” Natasha kissed his head.

What Natasha didn’t realize was that you heard their conversation, as you awoke from your nap.

***

Was life with these people really that hard? They spoil you to no end. Yes, their choice of punishments aren’t ordeal, but after punishments they soothed you as if you were the most fragile treasure in the world. Can you learn to love them? Perhaps. Do you feel bad for them hurting? A little, and that’s what scares you.

You care, and it’s been bothering you.

For weeks, your hatred towards the Avengers has been simmering down. You did enjoy no longer having responsibilities, enjoying little space, you were slipping into the headspace more and more.

As thoughts were swirling in your mind like angry bees, the door opened, you quickly closed your eyes again. The light turned on, and their footsteps sounded quiet, not wanting to disturb your sleep, towards your massive crib.

Natasha and Bucky were hovering over you, watching you sleep, as if it’s their favorite view. So obsessed with you, vowing to kill anyone who will try to take you away from them.

Both Nat, and Bucky brought their fingers to your face, caressing your tear-stained cheeks. It was like this for a few moments, until they slowly shook you awake. Tenderly they coaxed you awake, your eyelids fluttered open.

“Hey pretty girl, time to wake up.” Natasha softly ruffled your curly ponytails. You don’t know what snapped in you, maybe your brain has given up, or maybe it’s the way these two are affectionately staring down at you.

Beyond the misty darkness that clouds their eyes, is love. Moments of good moments of playtime with them, or how they touched you giving you cummies, your body coming alive to their touch, or how your heart ached at their sadness flashed in your mind.

Maybe you do love them.

“Mommy. Daddy.” You mumbled against your paci, you made grabby hands outward to them. Natasha’s and Bucky’s eyes widened, their breaths hitched in their throats. At last, their little girl wants them - on her accord.

Natasha quickly took you out of the crib, holding you in her arms in an air tight hug. Bucky engulfed both of you in a bear hug.

At last.

***

It’s been a few weeks of you being the perfect angel, and quite frankly, you were happy. Stress of freedom slipped away, you were taken cared off. Adulthood was hard on you until Natasha and Bucky took you. It was unorthodox at first, slipping into your old apartment in the dead of the night, but it was worth it.

You were sitting on Bucky’s lap, as he sat on the couch watching cartoons with you. Your back against his chest, Bucky hugging you in his arms, your arm reaching behind his head, as your hand played with his hair. Bucky melts every-time you do that. You were sucking on your paci, and Natasha was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

The peaceful atmosphere was soon disrupted, as an urgent news broadcast flashed on the screen. You whined, and Bucky started looking for the remote to change the channel.

The broadcast flashed a picture of you, explaining that you were still declared missing, and your family was looking for you. Bucky’s whole body froze, as your silence was making him nervous. Natasha slowly peaked her head out from the kitchen.

You were unfazed, but you’re not dumb. You knew you had to reassure them, “Daddy, change the channel! I want cartoons.” You bounced a bit on his lap, to show your bratty impatience. Bucky picked up the remote, and put cartoon network on.

Both Nat’s, and Bucky’s heart fluttered, you didn’t care about your old life anymore. You took your paci out for a moment, and kissed your daddy. “I love you, daddy.” You put the paci back in your mouth, and watched the cartoons.

Bucky had tears in his eyes, and so did Natasha.

Their angel didn’t hate them, their angel loves them, and they love you.

Extra A/N: sorry that this was trash. This was beyond trash, I’m so sorry! This was rushed, and I’m bothered by it.

#buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #buckynat x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!natasha #dark!natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #natasha romanoff smut #dark marvel #bucky barnes x black!reader #natasha romanoff x black!reader #one shot

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

Text

Recovering Your Catfish: Touch

Summary- 1.7k Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader. You are up early to make that Lemon Layer Cake for later that night and Frankie comes searching you out, wrap you into his arms. There was once a time he wasn’t always this affectionate in his recovery.

A/N- A self indulgent series I don’t expect anyone to pay attention to. But I just love this boy being so soft for his girl. I am tagging @babiiface95 cause she helped me with these thoughts.

Masterlist

The smell of lemon and sugar took over your sun warmed kitchen, the windows open to allow a breeze to flow through before the day got too hot. It was also why you were up early in the morning, before even getting dressed to get this lemon cake made for tonight.

Confectioner sugar was spread around the counter top where you were making the frosting, the cake sitting next to the oven ready to pop it in as soon as the oven would get to temp.

Your finger dabbled into the beginning mix of the frosting, bringing it to your mouth to suck the sweetness off in a test. More zest was needed and you got your grater to start taking off some of the peel, humming along softly to the radio Frank had wired in the window by the sink, the antenna only being able to pick up any decent stations from that spot.

Frankie came down the old wooden stairs in just his boxers, having woken to find you gone. Which was not unusual, but the drive to have contact was strong, it grounded him from all those bad thoughts that regularly plagued his mind. Instinctively he knew you would be in the kitchen, and he was about to cross the threshold when he saw you at the old butcher block you used as your kitchen island.

Your back was to him, your hair was curled up into a messy bun atop your head, strays of hair poking every which way as you didn't bother to brush it yet, just balling it up off your neck to combat the heat that was already starting. The slope of your neck was tilted as you studied something he couldn't see. Your tank top had ridden up slightly to expose the dip in the small of your back, cute boy shorts covering your bottom, but then from there down was bare legs and feet dancing slightly in place on the old worn linoleum flooring he promised to one day replace.

You were so perfectly at home that you didn't break from what you were doing when you looked over your shoulder to smile at Frank, your lips turning up almost lazily as you greeted him good morning between your singing along to the radio.

“What's got you up so early Frankie?” You ask as you tap your grater over the bowl and roll the lemon on the wood to loosen it up before slicing it in half, going to squeeze it in the frosting. You felt heavy masculine arms slide around your hips while he pressed his face into your neck, breathing in deeply.

It had been a few days since you brought him home from the airport, aside from that hug and grasping your hand, Frank had yet to really let you touch him. Not even in his sleep would he let you press against him as you normally did, cuddling each other in sleep. Every morning you would find him gone, sleeping in his chair in the living room with the television on mute. At first you tried to be understanding, give him his space while he adjusted back to everyday life. He had been through an ordeal, one you couldn’t begin to understand.

But it continued, day after day the way he kept space, sure to never let his fingers brush with yours or take a step back when you passed him. You could see from his expression that he wanted to, but was holding himself back.

One night you two were watching tv, on opposite ends of the couch. You could see him looking down at a beer bottle in his hands, rolling it. Not even focusing on whatever was playing. You had spent the time side eyeing him, trying to figure out how to bring this new distance between each other up to him.

Might as well just do it you finally decided when you pushed up off the couch and approached him, taking the bottle from his hands. “Frankie…” You said in that soft way you always said his name, shifting him to sit back and you straddled his lap.

His eyes went wide, his hands held away while he stuttered. “Wh-what are you doing Y/N?”

You slid your hands along his chest and reached to take his hand and place one on your hip, then repeating the action till he was holding onto you.

“What does it look like Catfish?” You purred slightly with a smile. “I missed you and wanted to cuddle. But is this okay?”

“Yes… I guess?” Frank muttered, looking a bit lost in how to respond. You could feel how tensely rigid he was, nervous and uncomfortable.

“I woke up Mon Cherie and you were gone.” Frank muttered against your neck, pressing his entire body in against you like he couldn’t get close enough, you chuckled while tilting your head so he could nibble against the length of your neck.

“I wanted to get this cake done before it's too late. Gotta have something to serve the neighbors when they come over this evening for supper.” You scooped a bit on your fingertip once more and held it up over your shoulder which he took a teasing taste, refusing to let your finger go from between his teeth and a swirl of his tongue. “What do you think?”

“Open a bakery and I will be your little errand boy for more tastes of that.” he rumbled when he finally let your finger go so that you could return back to whipping your frosting till it was smooth, tinted just barely yellow from the fresh lemon you added.

The welcoming citrus scent was paired with warm kisses on your neck as Frankie nuzzled in against you, sure to grind himself against you, his tone gravelly, and you were unsure if it was the early morning hours causing it, or the excitement he was building up between you two.

“How can I entice you to return to bed Mon Cherie?”

You grab some saran wrap and cover your frosting, slipping from his hold so his hands fell to the butchers block, watching you while you stuck the frosting in the fridge and slid the cake into the now warm oven.

“You got… 45 minutes before I HAVE to be down here to check the cake.”

A grin cracked on his face, his hair still askew from waking up and making him look boyish.

He was so stiff underneath you, his breathing clipped like he was trying to tolerate your touch. You had been pressing gentle kisses on his neck, but you could tell he wasn't enjoying himself and you pulled back. Maybe it was too soon, or maybe…

Maybe he no longer saw you that way?

Usually whenever he returned home after being away on a mission, you couldn't keep him off you. Not that you tried. Even during the bad ones.

This time, it was so different and you were lost about what to do. It was only seconds but the bit of doubt in your eyes matched the sadness in his own. “Im sorry Y/N…” he started and you just shook your head, moving to untangle yourself from him but he grasped your hips to hold you in place, sinking you back onto his lap. “It's not you, I swear.”

Frank could always read your emotions since the day you met. You didn't try removing yourself again and fidgeted your fingers together. “What is going on Frank?”

He let his hands fall to the couch cushions, rubbing his palms against them while he worked his jaw, looking for the words to say. “Y/N… I’m tainted. Like after this mission, you deserve better than me. Its killing me, cause I just want to keep you but fuck baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Your brows arched in confusion, not at all expecting to hear that from him.

“Frank why would you-” You started and suddenly he was moving to a stand, you sliding from his lap to the couch. “-Where are you going?” You scramble up, but he was so quick, quicker then you could process and he was out the door and off the porch. You rushed to the door, watching as the truck's headlights flicked on, cutting through the swamps darkness and pulling away, more confused than before.

You laid sweaty on your back, staring up at the lazy way the ceiling fan swung through the humid morning heat. Frank was laying further down the bed, his head laying on your belly, humming satisfied himself as your fingers brushed through his hair gently, letting yourself enjoy the post orgasm bliss.

“Mmmh, you know Frank that timer is about to go off any minute.” You break the silence and he groans while rolling to his side to look up your body at you.

“You want me to go check it?”

Lifting your head from the pillows, you arch your brows with a smirk. “Do you know how to tell if the cake is done?”

Frank shrugged a bit. “Well… it can’t be hard can it?”

You shoved at his shoulder with a shake of your head and reached down to grab his shirt from the night before since it would cover you enough to go streaking through the house. “Catfish, you are going to make me burn my cake and have to go get something from the ice box if you had it your way.” You stuck your tongue out at him as you left the room. “And I ain't serving the neighbors no wanna be homemade cake.”

You sprinted into the kitchen just as the timer went off and grabbed mitts to stuff on your hands. Pulling open the door, you pull out your delicate cake that has raised beautifully. You could already tell that it was gonna be like your Granny's cake that you grew up with, easy to layer and would be a lovely decadence to finish off the night with.

Frank followed along behind you, just not with as much of a rush. So he happened to catch you leaning over to pull the cake out at just the right moment.

“I swear Mon Cherie, I will never be tired of seeing you in the kitchen.” He approached again, this time his hands finding your bare hips under his shirt sweeping just over your ass.

“You're insatiable.” You mutter while checking the cake with a toothpick to make sure it was coming out clean.

“Only for you.”

#finding your catfish #frank morales #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier au #amber writes #sweater writes

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httpswwwtbhkcom · 4 years

Text

How does the Class 1a react to their Classmate’s s/o

[Headcanons]

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist]

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader, Denki Kaminari x Reader (Separately)

Warning: Swearing (Typical Bakugo), Some wrong grammars (sorry) , some overreacting Denki. Long stories for Bakugo i got carried away (sorry), some angst but fluff in the end. (for denki)

Genre: fluff(?), a bit of angst

Keys:

f/d: favorite drink, Y/n: Your name, L/n: last name, S/o: significant other

A/N: My first Headcanon! Hope i won’t edit this. Anyways, Enjoy!

Happy Birthday Denki Kaminari -w-

+A/N: i think im not for headcanons. I write to much. i prefer oneshots more. sorry again

++A/N: Might edit this the next day. It’s late. Good night, Good morning, and Good afternoon for every people in the world ♡

Reader: Neutral

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Katsuki Bakugo:

Summary: You were a new student at the infamous UA highschool, You were late at enrollment. But you still got inside UA’s recommendations. You had a quirk that always involve water. It was quite powerful since you wasted no time in training your quirk in America, but your always dehydrated after every practice. your first day in UA was the worst for Bakugo, one of Bakugo’s friends i’m watching you kaminari had ‘accidentally’ shouted something that both you and Bakugo were not ready to show the world for. Poor Bakugo was embarrassed. same to you.

Reader’s quirk: Something that involves water

Warning: Swearing

No one knew about Bakugo’s s/o except for the Bakusquad.

He really wanted his relationship a secret. He didn’t really like people invading you since he loves you dearly.

(skip these warnings. they might be not important or something)

[Warning: Long ass story.]

About how you two met and stuff like that;

He was your childhood family friend (same with Izuku but that’s in a different story), He had grown feelings for you when you both grew together. Because of your Family business, You both went in separate ways. You went to America while Bakugo stayed in Japan. You promised that you two would still keep in touch, and you did. Calling and texting each other every single day. Few years had passed. You finally went back to Japan. Meeting your childhood everything again.

You tackled him once you saw him. You almost cried, finally meeting your childhood everything again, but taller, more mature, more handsomer? well whatever, You missed him and He missed you, that’s what matters right now.

“Katsuki! I have many things to tell you about America.” You smiled. “Yeah, yeah, i miss you too.” He replied. “Let’s go inside, the shitty woman might be happy to see you again.” He continued. You replied with a giggle then followed him home.

At his house..

“Woah, It’s cleaner than before!” You joked, Resulting that you got bonked behind your head by Katsuki’s Hand.

“ Oh my. Y/n! How are you? Does it hurt? Katsuki don’t do that to a lady!” Katsuki’s mom, Mitsuki Bakugo shouted at his son, and she was prettier than before, You thought. “Hah? Shut up old hag! It didn’t hurt much! I wasn’t even that hard!” Bakugo argued. ‘Mother like son’ you sighed. “Hello Mitsuki, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt.” You replied, trying to stop the arguement of the mother and the son. “But woah, You look really beautiful today.” You complimented. “Awh Thank you Y/n sweetie, see katsuki. You should be like Y/n here.” Mitsuki scolded. Then They argued again, then Katsuki’s Father, Mitsuki’s husband, Masaru Bakugo came and greeted you. Then tried to break their arguement.

Time skip:

after a month in Japan, You enrolled in UA, same class with your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo.

[Warning: Make it two Long ass stories]

How did the Bakusquad knew about you two dating? How did you met the Bakusquad?

After a few days (Saturday) You and Bakugo decided to ‘hang out’. So Bakugo declined hanging out with the bakusquad (as always) but Kirishima thought begging will help like last time, but it didn’t. So the Bakusquad was confused. Saturday, The Bakusquad (-Bakugo) went out to go to the park near a cafe where you and Bakugo was in. Then The Bakusquad saw you ‘hanging out’ with Bakugo one time in a cafe. ‘Bakugo denied hanging out with the bakusquad because of a girl. Omgomgomgomgomg’ Mina thought. So typical Mina, Had fangirled outside the cafe, shipping you(as a stranger to them) and Bakugo together, since Bakugo always hangs out with them. While Kaminari went inside the cafe to greet you two. following with a Kirishima and Sero pulling him back outside and apologizing to his behavior. You paid no mind and looked at Bakugo, Who was pissed. You held his hand “Hey, it’s fine.” You replied. “Are they your friends Katsuki?” “Hah? No. No matter what, their extras to me.” He scoffed, you giggled. “Hey it’s fine.” “No it’s not. Dunce face ruined everything.” He sighed, still a bit pissed. “Atleast they care about you.” You said, still holding his hand. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He looked at the window. Seeing Mina scolding Kaminari while Kirishima and Sero waved at both of you then stupidly grinned. Bakugo looked at you again, You were looking at them. He sighed. Making you look at him. “Hm. You ok?” You asked, quirking a brow. “Yeah, im going to talk to them.” He stood up, letting go of his hand. Then he went outside. You were checking outside of what your lover was doing.

“Why the fuck were you interrupting us?” His voice was loud enough to be heard by the Bakusquad and the passerby’s who was staring at the show. “Uhhhh Hi Bakugo! Didn’t see you there. How are you?” Kaminari,who was trying to change the subject, made Bakugo more mad. Everyone in the Bakusquad except for Bakugo and Kaminari facepalmed. “Hah? Trying to change the subject won’t save you dunce face.” His hands were making some small sparks, ‘I guess that’s my cue to help’ You sighed, taking your last sip of your f/d. then throwing the empty cup in the trash bin.

Bakugo was making his way to Kaminari, His hands ready to throw Kaminari to the next country, Then He felt someone touch his shoulder. “HEY-” “Stop it Katsuki. Your scaring him.” You watched as his hands lowers down then he apologizes. The Bakusquad was shooked. Bakugo. Apologizing? ‘Am i dreaming or something????’ they thought. Bakugo had never apologized like that. Hm weird “Oh hey” You greeted “I’m Y/n L/n. Are you Katsuki’s friends?” Now you sound like his mother. Great! “i think so-” The red haired stopped. He was a bit stiff. Katsuki glaring at him. “Hiiiiii I’m Ashido Mina. Nice to meet you Y/n!” She was friendly. and you were happy about it. “This is Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, and Hanta Sero.” She continued. You greeted them. They greeted you back. “Hey are you Bakugo’s girlfriend?-” The pikachu looking guy snickered but the pikachu boy who was named Kaminari got hit at the head, by the red head, Kirishima “Be quiet Kaminari man, you don’t want Bakubro trying to kill you again right?” The red head scolded. Poor Kaminari,,,, “She is my girlfriend Dunce face, got a problem with that?” He growled. His face were a bit red, embarassment? angry? flustered for no reason? Don’t know, Don’t care. And that’s how you met the Bakusquad. they were lucky to have you help them for Baku-problems. Though Kirishima, being Bakugo’s ‘best friend’ or so you thought, Didn’t need help because that is “Unmanly”

Continuing ....

He really didn’t like public relationships since his s/o would be involved. Some people would annoy you with questions and he didn’t like that.

So that means the first day of UA for you will be Kaminari’s death wish

Skipping to your first day in UA

“Class, This is Y/n, L/n. Please let them feel like home. I know it’s late. But make them feel welcomed. Now do whatever you want. I’m going to sleep.” You stood infront while Aizawa makes his way to his yellow sleeping bag. You saw some familliar faces then smiled.

Kaminari gasped, Loud enough that everyone was looking at him. “OMG I REMEMBER YOU” He stood, pointing to you. Curious faces was looking at you and Kaminari. “YOUR BAKUGO’S S/O” Then that’s how he almost died at lunch. Both you and Bakugo were a blushing mess. You stood there like an idiot, cause you did not move at all. Eyes were on you and Bakugo. Oh noes. I guess Kaminari’s dead. ‘He’s in big trouble’ The others muttured. Everyone be like :O

They were shooked. So at lunch, was as he expected. Almost everyone has been asking you questions, But you answer most of them. Cause a short grape boy named Mineta was asking inappropriate questions.

“ i wonder how Y/n and Bakugo started dating. I mean like, Y/n is so nice while Bakugo was so. so mean.” Kaminari pouted a bit jealous Bakuo himself got a s/o before him. “I guess opposites attract” Mina laughed

“Any lasts words Dunce face?” Bakugo’s hand was so close to Kaminari’s face that one explosion and his face goes to recovery girl, burned. “Uhhhh. You got a nice girlfriend?” Then he went off running outside the lunch room. Bakugo chasing him. “Someone go get Y/n!” Someone shouted. “No running!” Iida yelled, but none of them listened. You were in the halls after escaping the questions, going back to the classroom, so when you saw him chasing Kaminari again, you sighed. then you know what happened next

Bonus:

youtube

Video not mine. Just found it in Youtube. Credits to: Icy Hot

You both were in Bakugo’s room. And you saw a Baby Katsuki video, so you showed it to Bakugo cause why not? “Hey katsuki look at this” You giggled, showing the video to your boyfriend

“You look so cute!” You giggled “W-where did you get that from?!” He stuttered. “My mom sended it to me earlier! You and your weird but cute antics. just so cute!” you were fangirling, while he was stared at you, “You call falling cute? That’s rude dumbass” He pouted. “No, Your singing dummy!” And that’s how he blushed hard. “Love you Katsuki.” You laid your head down to his shoulder, yawning. He smiled. “Love you too.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Denki Kaminari:

Summary: You and Denki were dating for a few months. The only person you interact with in class 1a except for Kaminari was Mina. Mina was the matchmaker herself so that’s why she knew about her. It was your lover’s birthday today. So you and Mina thought to surprise him (Making his class confused and surprised too).

Your in the support course too, in another school

Reader’s quirk: Double

A/N: This is a bit more different than Bakugo’s, since it’s Denki’s birthday. -w-

Warning: In this story, When Denki Kaminari’s birthday is ignored or forgotten by his s/o, He overreacts and starts to worry himself too much, Swearing

The day before his birthday...

“She’s real! I’m not lying this time!” Kaminari argued. “I don’t trust you. You kept lying about your ‘girlfriend’ for months! How can i trust you if you keep lying to yourself?” Jirou shot back, even quoted the ‘girlfriend’ word. “Do you guys trust me?” Kaminari asked for the others who were inside the classroom. “Sorry bro...” Kirishima apologized. Bakugo shooked his head as a ‘no’. Everyone disapproved, well except for Midoriya. Who was trying to leave the classroom and a Mina who already left. Kaminari locked eyes with the green haired boy, “Well? How about you Midoriya?” He asked, his eyes waiting for a yes. The green haired boy only froze once his name was heard. Every eyes in the room because to bore through Midoriya, making him uncomfortable. “S-sorry...” He said shyly. In which Kaminari only groaned in response “I’ll show you that she’s real!” He shouted to his classmates who was leaving the school to their respective dorms. He only heard a “Yeah yeah whatever Dunce face.” from Bakugo himself.

With Mina and Y/n..

“Mina!” You waved, earning a wave back from your best friend. “Hi bestie!” “How are you?” You asked. “Oh im fine. I have a favor....It’s about Kaminari’s birthday.” She whispered the last part, like someone was following her or something. “Oh what is it?” You were curious. She whispered the ‘plan’. “Oh! I’m free tomorrow! Good thing we have no school tomorrow. I can ready everything at the dorms with the help of some of my friends.” You giggled. “Are you sure?” Mina was a worried, especially you doing things on your own. “Yep! i’ll be fine don’t worry. I won’t overuse my quirk. i promise” You promised, which was supposed to be broken tomorrow since you really want to do this for your boyfriend. “Ok then, i trust you.” “Thank you then. I want all of the class to act normal kay? And text me if you guys are going upstairs. We need to plan this perfectly.” You replied. “Got it boss.” Mina joked, then left to go back to the dorms.

Everyone in the class knew Kaminari’s Birthday was tomorrow. So to have no suspicion at all, Mina made a group chat with all of the Class, except you and Denki of course (She wanted to surprise her fellow classmates too). She texted the plan to the group. and they agreed.

The text, Just for fun.

8:00PM ~Today~

Mina: Hey guys!

Bakugo: What the fuck is this?

Iida: Bakugo! No swearing

Bakugo: Why? This ain’t the original Group chat so why not? Mina did this in the first place. Why blame me?

*Iida and Bakugo argued in text so let’s skip that*

Izuku: Please stop kacchan

Bakugo: Shut up Deku.

Kirishima: Woahh Chill Bakubro

Bakugo: Shut the fuck up shitty hair

Iida: Bakugo!

Uraraka: Did i just heard an explosion?

Jirou: Yes, you just did

Mina: Guys.

Everyone but Bakugo: Yes?

Bakugo: What the fuck do you want raccoon eyes?

Iida: Bakugo! Stop it.

Bakugo: Make me four eyes

Tsuyu: Guys, Mina is telling us something! Be quiet. kero

Mina: Thank you Tsu. As i was telling, it’s Kaminari’s birthday tomorrow, so how about we make a surprise birthday party for Kaminari?

Sero: But how? We have school tomorrow.

Hagakure: How about i do it myself? I can take off my clothes then prepare.

Ojiro: Aizawa will notice that you left. no floating uniform, no hagakure.

Hagakure: Haha right.

Mina: Reply to Sero: Don’t worry i got it covered. All we need to do is act normal or something. We all go to the dorms like we always do. Hang-out, or something else just act natural. No need to be worried.

Ojiro: But whose going to ready things out?

Mina: I said i got it covered. Do you guys even trust me? :(

Izuku: O-of course we trust you Mina.

Mina: Ok good! Again. Act Natural.

Bakugo: Yeah yeah we know it already. we ain’t blind

Mina: Sheesh! fine just checking.

Sero: To Kaminari’s birthday!

Everyone except Bakugo. Again: To Kaminari’s birthday!

Mina: ... F for Bakugo in the chat

Kirishima: F

Sero: F

Jirou: F

The others except Bakugo: F

Bakugo: Ugh Fine. To Dunce face’s birthday, Happy?

Mina: Very, Goodnight!

Everyone: Goodnight 9:47PM ~Today~

The next day...

You sneaked inside the dormitory, with a teacher’s permission (Since you didn’t want attention of other people/teachers walking by in the morning and letting you out of the school. and being banned there). Inside Mina’s room.

“Are you sure ‘bout this?” Mina asked, currently worried and instantly regretted on involving you but your Denki’s s/o so why not? Your a teacher’s pet and a social butterfly. so that’s good right? you’ll get out in every arguement right? Meh, you asked for permission, you get permission. “Yes Mina, Don’t worry. I’ll be fine” You reassured her so that’s fine right?

When Mina left, you were already decorating the living room (just pretend they have their own campus with each floor, first floor for class 1a. Just pretend. I have my own imagination, Oh wait. i think they do have their own campus? i forgot :P) Then you felt your phone buzz... a notification, you took your phone out of your back pocket. thought that was Mina, but it was your beloved boyfriend, Denki Kaminari

Denki’s nickname in your private chat is Pika pika bitch♡ because he wanted to have it. he even blackmailed you that if you changed his nickname, he will not give you kisses for a month. your nickname in private chat: Love of Denki’s life♡♡ was made by you. cheesy right? but i had changed it to You Just in case

7:10AM ~Today~

Pika pika bitch♡(Denki): Hey Love! Am i interrupting you?

You: Hey Denki! Ah no, your not interrupting me. Well... i have no school today and i have my free time today!

Pika pika bitch♡(Denki): Awh your lucky! I wish that i could hang out with you. Sadly i can’t. I have school :(

You: Bummers... :(

Pika pika bitch♡(Denki): We can hang out later after my school right? Your free later right?

You: Aw sorry baby, can’t. i have to meet up with my friends later at the mall.

Pika pika bitch♡(Denki): Oh, :( Can’t you tell them to Hang out next time instead?

You: So sorry bby, but it’s one time only! We can hang out Next week. My treat~

Pika pika bitch♡(Denki): Ok then. I can’t say no to free food!

You: Thank you bby! Love you.

Pika pika bitch♡(Denki): Love you too♡

7:47AM ~Today~

You accidentally forgot to say happy birthday to him in text. You were busy decorating you just forgot about it, And you regretted lying to your s/o that your going to hang out with your friends. which was a big no-go to Kaminari himself.

With Denki, since you were decorating the living room....

Denki was the first one to go to school since it was his birthday

Denki sighed in disappointment since his s/o didn’t remember his birthday. Who are those ‘friends’ that was more important than him? He told you about his birthday right? Did he forget? Or did you forget? He was sad. How did you forget about this? It’s his birthday today. Why won’t you Atleast say Happy birthday for him? A happy birthday from text would be fine for him. So why won’t you do it? Why did you forget? Was he not important enough to atleast remember his birthday? Please tell him atleast a happy birthday- “Happy birthday man!” “Happy birthday kaminari.” “Happy birthday!” everyone greeted him happy birthday. How nice. Well he was still sad but it’s worth it right? Your the one preparing, their the one whose saying happy birthday to him. He was still down.-

Bing! A Notification... From The Kaminari Family.

7:50AM ~Today~

Mother: Happy birthday Denki♡

Father: Happy birthday! My son, be a pro hero like what you really are!

Denki: Thank you Mom, Dad! I love you both♡

Mother: We love you too. Were proud of you too. Go reach your goal and be a successful pro hero!

8:01AM ~Today~

He was a bit less disappointed. Atleast his family still remember it right? Well that’s a bit of his worries had fallen.

The school had ended and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As promised when they were going to the dormitory, Mina texted Y/n that they were going to the dorms

5:01PM ~Today~ Cute Alien queen♡(Mina): Were going back to the dorm! Get ready.

Twice the cuteness♡(You): Oh ok, Everythings set. i’ll take a minute nap at Denki’s dorm. I’m kinda tired right now.

Cute Alien queen♡(Mina): And You promised me you wouldn’t overuse your quirk.

Twice the cuteness♡(You): I didn’t overuse my quirk! I might or might not added to many decorations.

Cute Alien queen♡(Mina): That’s still overusing your quirk.

Twice the cuteness♡(You): Fine fine sorry. I was just too excited for Denki’s birthday that i got carried away.

Cute Alien queen♡(Mina): Apology accepted. Just don’t do it again

5:10PM ~Today~

With Denki and the others

Denki was the first one to the door, While the others were behind him waiting to get the door opened just to say a loud “happy birthday!!”. But some were anxious if Mina was actually joking or not. They would be a big fool of themselves and it would ruin everyone’s reputation.

Once he opened the door, He was dumbfounded. How did they decorated the living room while everyone was with him the whole time?

A loud “Happy birthday!” was shouted behind him once he opened the door. He was happy. finally happy they actually remembered. But the question was. Who decorated this? Hagakure? She was invisible but no. she can’t do all of this by herself, Plus he saw floating uniforms. Maybe it was Uraraka’s quirk that made it float? No. Maybe the teachers? No, they would just greet him happy birthday. Maybe some people that he didn’t notice leave? No. He swore that he checked every single one of them with him in the classroom. No one left. And nothing was out of the ordinary. Did they do it after he left? No there were too many decorations. So who did it?

“Aw Thank you guys for making this for me. I was pretty shocked myself, Shocking right?.” He joked the last part. but no one laughed. just some ‘your welcomes.’

“We didn’t do that Dunce face.” Bakugo admitted. Leaving a shocked Pikachu standing dumbly right outside the room. “T-then if you didn’t do that then who did?” He asked. “Dunno. Mina told us the plan-.” Ojiro answered. “Mina!!!! Thank you!!” He hugged Mina, who was laughing her ass off “I didn’t do this myself. i planned it. Someone else did it by themselves.” The whole class was like :O and was very confused. ‘like waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? themselves? How????’

Who can do it by themselves? definitely not them. Everyone looked at each other in curiousity and ask of who did it. Making Mina laugh. “Wait.. Their here?!” He asked his voice rising a bit. Mina nodded. He had let go and ran to go search for you in a lightning speed

The other’s be like “??? what do you mean ‘their here’?” All of them asked. “ His s/o is here.” She said proudly, making the others jaw dropped while the others where laughing I’m talking about you Bakugo “Your joking right? Dunce face can’t even have a lover since he sucks.” He laughed. While the others were seriously staring at him in disgust.

With Y/n and Denki

“Y/Nnnnnnnnnnn!” Denki ran full speed to his room, finding you lying down in his clothes, already awake because of the ruckus you heard. “Happy birthday Denki” You smiled.

Bonus:

“Guys this is my s/o, Y/n.” He proudly introduced you to his classmates. “Nice to meet you.” You bowed. The others greeted back. “I told you she was real!” He shouted. “Yeah yeah whatever, so Y/n,-” Jirou ignored Denki. Every student started to ask questions, making you giggle at the attention that the class gave you. leaving a speechless Kaminari and a Bakugo. “Hey guys! It’s my birthday right now! Give ya’ll attention to me!” Kaminari cried. “Shut up Dunce face.” Bakugo scolded, leaving the crowded room. “R00D”

“You should come here and visit us more often!” Uraraka replied before you left, “Sure! sorry i can’t stay that long though. My sensei told me to come back to the dorms.” You waved goodbye to the others. Denki tackled you then lustfully whispered “You shouldn’t lie to me like that. You almost gave me a heart attack when you said you were busy with someone later. that someone was more important than me. When your going to visit, your going to have a big punishment.”. You gave him a goodbye kiss then left, flustered.

Edited: July 16,2020

179 notes · View notes

kmelanin · 4 years

Text

YEONJUN

something random: not edited

____

You met Soobin three years ago, you walked into a grocery store and went down the cookie aisle. You bumped into him on accident, and he almost broke his back bending over and apologizing. He knew how to make you swoon. He then asked for your number and promised to pay you back. You didn’t know how many times he would put on this act of breaking his back and giving you a apology.

You never thought you would let it get to this point. Out of the three years you have been with Soobin, you never would have thought he would hit you. Neither did he, which is why he, once again bent over then left you on the floor and you watch him slam your front door. Your hand was cradling your burning cheek. You were more shocked than anything.

This has to be it; you couldn’t take it anymore. You hated yourself for staying with him for so long. You should have left when his brother Yeonjun asked if everything was okay a year ago. It was then when you knew, you knew it was not okay. Your mental health was completely depleted, you gained so much weight, and you could not even look at yourself in the mirror. The only thing keeping you going was Yeonjun, he was the light to everything. You were always at their house and so it was natural to become friends.

Yeonjun stood a bit shorter than Soobin. He being 5’11, and Soobin over six feet. You stand next to them, and you still look up a bit, you being 5’9. He gave off this hard look, always wearing darker, edgier clothes. He has piercings, or fakes ones at least. He looks so pretty, all the time. He is the one that makes you smile now. It truly acted different around you. A truly soft boy. If only he came around before Soobin.

Soobin, he was so great at first. His softness is was got you. He was a so sweet, taking you on lots of dates, and gifting you with gifts. You were not as lucky as he was, you did not have as much money, so you tried to give back with chores or art pieces, but it was not enough. He suddenly started to demand sex and treat you as if you owed him everything. He would get mad if you didn’t work out certain days, or if a chore was missed.

He was still soft at times, and he always apologized for the things he did to you, and you always forgave him. But now you just knew that he refused to let you go. And for your own sake you needed to leave. You just did not know how, nor did you want to leave Yeonjun behind.

You needed to just forget about what is happening for now, and deal with it later. You need to figure out how to break up with Soobin. Because he hit you, for the first time in your relationship he hit you. You could never forgive him for that.

You quickly suck it up as best you could, and you get in the shower. You decided to go out to the club. You quickly wash up and get dressed in a simple black slip dress. It bunched up in the right areas making your curves look great. You also put on some pretty black lace underwear that you never had the chance to wear.

You look in the mirror and notice how red it was on your face. You quickly pull out your makeup and put on a night glam look. You just wanted to go and get some drinks and then go to bed.

You finish up and call a cab. You didn’t even feel like dealing with friends, so you wanted to make sure you didn’t drive. You hoped that Yeonjun was here, he really loved dancing. He also loved drinking and music so it was a win to him. He fits in so well with the party crowd, but stands out so much at the same time.

You wore your AF1s for a reason instead of heels. You hated heels.

You go into the bar side of the building. It had less people and the music wasn’t as loud. There was a soundproof wall with a open door way letting in the music, but not to much. You sit at the bar and order a strong drink, and a couple of shots. You weren’t a big drinker, so you liked to down it and move on.

When you got the drinks, you drank both shots quickly and chased it with your main drink. You turn around in your seat, trying your best to hold everything down. What you didn’t expect is a almost neon yellow haired Yeonjun standing on the other side of the room, when your eyes met his head tilted a little bit. You waved at him, feeling relieved to see him here,

He wore all black and he walks straight towards you. The friends he was around looks at him confused, but connects it when they see you. You turn back around in your seat, trying to calm your heart beat down. The alcohol that you drank was started to burn through your body. He sits down next to you, but his body faces the room.

“What are you doing here? I thought you guys were having a date night?” He leans in and asks you. You just laughed softly, you don’t answer. Instead you throw back at least half of the drink down your throat.

Yeonjun frowns at what he sees. You’re acting strange, not like yourself. You’re drinking yourself into a depression, and he refuses to let you do so.

“Look at me.” He says. He words forced you to look at him in the eyes. His already worried face turned even more upset. “Why have you been crying?” His thumb runs across.

You grab his hand from your face, his fingers instantly grabbing yours.

“Lets just go dance.” You smile up to him. He doesn’t push it any further, and he just smiles and nods. He takes your hand tighter and leads you to the doorway that leads to the dance floor. It was filled with people, but he easily got you two towards the middle.

A slower song came on as he pulls you closer. You recognize it as Another Day by PARTYNEXTDOOR. He lays his hands on your waist and starts to rock with you. You lay your head on his chest a little, he lays his head on yours. He was so happy in this moment. He wish he could hold you forever.

You wrap your arms all the way around his waist. You then look up at him, he looks down and your eyes connect. It was a bit weird, it felt as if time had slowed down a bit. His gaze was so intense, and it made you so nervous. His hands reach up to your face. He holds onto your face to gently.

Was he going to kiss you?

You quickly turn around, rubbing your ass against him. You were blushing. His hands instantly found your waist again and started to guide you a little better to the beat. You leaned against him a little more. You let go a little bit, letting your body move more freely. You close your eyes and live in the moment a little. You felt the alcohol running thought your veins.

Where his hands lay, it tingles. Tingles so much.

As the song comes to an end, you tilt your head back a little more. With your eyes still closed, you could feel his head lean into your neck, his lips grazing against your skin. You let out a little gasp, enjoying the fresh feeling

The song Body by MINO came on, and his hands grip you tighter. His hands pull you in closer and his lips start leaving kisses all over your neck, and you let him.

He was on cloud 9. Not a drop of alcohol or drugs in him, and he felt a bit addicted. You’re his brother’s girl, he shouldn’t like you this much.

His hands start to travel up your body, applying pressure in the right areas. His hands leave trails of tingles behind. He turns you around so that you’re facing him.

“Ya know, Soobin will kill us if he seen us like this.” He says against your lips. His words make you freeze. He is right. He hit you already, what will he do next? You remove yourself from Yeonjuns warm embrace and leave. You were getting so overwhelmed so quickly. As you exit out of the door, you felt a hand on your wrist.

“Wait! Wait, Im sorry.” Yeonjun stars to go on. He let it go to far, he went to far. His heart was beating out of his chest. He could not lose you.

“No, youre fine. Its just-“you trailed off, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you contemplate what to say to him next. You could feel his eyes on you, scanning your face, examining the way your brows furrowed as you thought.

“Can we just go back to my apartment?” You ask him, your voice slurring slightly. He frowns a bit.

“You don’t wanna go back to So-“

“NO! Ill go home myself then.” You blurt out in frustration. You felt bad for not telling him, but why worry him? You turn around and start walking down the street. You didn’t think Yeonjun was following you until a moment later you look back and see the neon haired boy walking behind you with his jacket over his shoulder. His eyes were low and dark when they connect to yours. You just look forward and continue walking home.

You make your way up to your apartment and you unlock your door. Thankfully Soobin wasn’t here. You pop your shoes off and you head towards your bedroom.

“Yn.” His voice cuts through the quiet air. You turn back to him and look at him. All of the lights were off. The street lights shined in through your window, creating a shadow on half of his face. “Tell me whats wrong. Did Soobin do something to you? For the past three months you’ve been acting strange.” He finally asks you. You were afraid of this moment. The moment you were going to tell the most important person in your life your worst kept secret.

“He hit me, he actually hit me.” Your voice could barely get above a whisper. If you thought it was quiet in your home before, well now its dead silent. Its like time was actually frozen. “Yeonjun-?”

“When?” He voice cut you off. It made you get nervous.

“Its fine, im over it, I’m over him.” You shrug it off. You go to turn around, but he grabs you once again.

“No, you can’t be. I can’t let him get away with his. When did he do it YN?” He held you so gently, you couldn’t help but want more of it. You wrap your arms around his waist again.

“Today. He slapped me. But I know he didn’t mean it.” You mumble against chest. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears. You felt his body tense up around you, and he pulls away from you slightly.

“What?” He sounded like he was out of breath. He pulls away completely. He looks at you a bit. You look completely normal to him. You look like you always do, fucking beautiful. But then he realized that he has only seen you in horrible lighting. He quickly pulls you to your room and turns on your light. He now notices how puffy your eye was. It was different from your usual crying eyes. Because only one looks damaged. How fucking hard did the man hit you.

“Yn, he couldn’t of just hit you? Are you sure this is the first time?” He asks you seriously. He had to know if his brother was truly a piece of shit or if the girl he was in love with blinded him.

You sighed.

“Its like every time he would get mad at me it would be for the littlest shit. And he would always explode, either breaking things around me or even breaking a finger.” You looked at Yeonjun in the eyes. “This time he hit me. And Im over it. I don’t deserve this. If you don’t believe me then fine.” You just shrug.

“Of course, I believe you.” He fights back and he tries to reach out to you but you dodge him. The look on his face when you did probably hurt you than the hit you received earlier. Before he could say anything, someone knocks on the door.

You both knew who it was. Soobin, coming to apologize and probably demand for makeup sex. Yeonjuns feet move faster than yours and he almost runs to the front door. You don’t follow, in fact you just shut your bedroom door.

Yeonjun opens the door and shoves Soobin away from it, shutting the door behind him.

“What the fuck?” Soobin says confused as fuck.

“Are you serious?!” Yeonjun yells at him. He has to hold back his voice before he wakes up the whole building. Instead he continues to shove him away from your home and down the stair.

“Look, I just want to apologize-“

“I don’t even want to know how many times you have ‘apologized’ to her. But she’s done with you. I’m done with you. Once you put your hands on her, its was really over with.”

“I already know. I am still so fucking sorry. I regret it so much.” He cries.

“Go home.” Yeonjun says walking away. He cannot even look at his brother in his eyes. He needs to go back to you and try his best not to let you slip through his fingers.

He opens your door and finds you sitting in the couch with your legs up. Your eyes connected with his when he spotted you.

“His he gone?” You ask softly. He does not know what to do. So, he just nods his head. “Are you going to leave now?” You ask him next.

“Do you want me to?” He asks almost as softly as you did, nerves making him feel nauseous.

“Not really. I don’t wanna lose you.” You mumble looking down at your fingers unsure of what to do to make him stay. You look at when he starts to move around. You watch him take his shoes off and make his way over to you.

Your eyes remain connected with him throughout the whole time. He bends down in front of you and drops to his knees. He slowly grabs your hands and holds them in his. You put your legs down and in the position you are now in they just fell naturally on both sides of him. He doesn’t stop there, he leans in even more. His face coming closer and closer to yours.

Its not that you freeze up, you just refused to move. You did not want to ruin this moment between you too. this could be the start of something truly beautiful.

He was moving slowly because he didn’t want to startle you incase you were to snap out of this for some reason. He just really wanted to show you that he refuses live without you.

Before you could do anything, his lips connected with yours. They were soft and gentle at first, barely pushing against your own lips. He pulls back just a tad to see how you were reacting to his moves. You reach up with one of your hands and caress his cheek. You truly could forget about Soobin with him. He made you and everything around you so much better.

Your hand made its way to the back of his head, lacing your fingers through his surprisingly soft neon hair. You push his head towards you, meeting him in the middle. Your lips connect with his. His was shocked at first by your sudden bluntness, but he quickly recovers by grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

He wraps his arms around you, and you wrap your arms around his neck. Your hand controlled his head a bit, allowing you to gain control of everything. He let you.

Whatever you wanted from him; he would give it to you.

#txt #yeonjun #kpop #kpop txt #ambw #smut #angst #fluff

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soranort-headcanons · 4 years

Text

About the new Dark Road characters

Before we get into each individual character, here is some random thoughts

Disappointed that Yen Sid didn’t make it, but part of me admits that that had a low chance of happening due to him being a Disney character and all.

Part of me is also sad that they added more characters into the mix, because we lose the whole Eraqus and Xehanort growing as the only apprentices (with maybe Yen Sid added in) dynamic. At the same time, the idea that these two spent so much time with each other that no one wanted to be in their general vicinity while they were in a chess match and generally only cared about each other to the point that Xehanort only talks about Eraqus in his reports, is a hilarious idea that really adds fuel to the shipping fire for fans. Fun.

There is six apprentices in total, just like in UX (Unions plus Luxu). If we add whatever master they have in, its seven. Just like the guardians. Since Eraqus (And maybe the new characters) are part of the “blueblood” line of Keyblade Wielders, this makes a lot of sense, since Keyblade Wielders are defenders of the light and all.

This also adds credibility of why Xehanort was allowed to go on a world tour but Eraqus wasn’t- It’s hard to keep track of so many children, plus while Eraqus wasn’t allowed to go at the moment, their master could simply tell Eraqus to go with someone else in a later date

I swear, if MoM is their master (extremely doubtful, please don’t do this)

Or maybe even Luxu, since we saw No Name hanging in the wall in kh3

I severely expect everyone to give up their keyblade and go into hiding or die.

If everyone else minus Xehanort is part of a Keyblade lineage minus him, it would add a lot of depth to how he acted the way he did. Just like I brought up in some previous posts, it makes sense that an outsider would break so many rules or use questionable methods/use said methods to try to stand out. If he is the only one out, this makes it worse than if it was just Eraqus, Yen Sid and him.

To add to my previous bullet point, he is standing on a throne, just like Sora in promotional material. He is the only one sitting and the center of the shot. Just like Sora, Xehanort obtained his Keyblade (If my memory is correct, its been a year since I touched kh after all) due to outside influence, just like Sora did. This would be an excellent time for Sora parallels, Nomura

Ok, now I’ll get to the actual new characters

My first reaction (Posted in my discord) was “Urd reminds me of Aqua. Please do not make her a love interest”

She looks like she is making an OwO face

She does remind of Aqua, but a little bit more mischievous.

I’ve seen people say Bragi could be Luxu but honestly I also have suspicions Urd is up to something. Merely because she has silver hair and yellow eyes.

I always think silver haired people are more important that they turn out to be due to Riku having silver hair. We also don’t know Riku’s parents, unlike Sora and Kairi. We know Sora has a mom and a dad with a boat, and we know who adopted Kairi. But Riku? nothing. I’m curious exactly who introduced the silver hair gene in destiny islands. Is it a common trait? Xehanort has it. Riku has it. I need to see the family trees, please Nomura. How tf do they get their hair color im dying please-

She stands between Eraqus and Xehanort but behind them. Im sure this will be important later on. Until then though, i cannot say much.

She does have the Recusant’s sigil though, which once again reminds me of the fact that Keyblade Wielders have inbuilt trackers in their clothes. Im sure thats very useful for when they get lost in a random world.

My first reaction to Vor: She looks innocent but she would totally stab me in the back in an alleyway if given the opportunity.

Look at her. She looks like a tiny evil gremlin.

As a short people I can attest that short people will not hesitate to set your house on fire in Minecraft if given the chance. The world is too tall for us so we shall burn it until it is at eye level

Look im approximately 5ft tall, im short

I like her color scheme, very eye pleasing

People have pointed out her name is one letter away from Vore. Thanks guys, I so did not need that

People theorize this is Kairi’s grandma. I can see why, but I shall remain neutral on the subject

Probably the youngest

kinda reminds me of Ava

She is in the front, along with our main duo, maybe this will mean something

Will probably be a mix between Aqua and Ventus in term of gameplay. Speedy or magic main.

My first reaction to Bragi was: he looks so smug. He gives me a bastard vibe but that has to be seen. Or he is a troll.

People theorize he is Luxu because his name can be rearranged to Braig. Considering Nomura’s love for anagrams, it makes sense.

I wanna punch him in the face, he looks like he knows more than me

Reminds me of Axel. Hahahaha the idea of Axel and him having a connexion of some kind would be. Hilarious. Honestly the idea of anyone in this group having a relation to anyone in the present era would be hilarious because Xehanort grew up with these people so it would be like “Oh shit my coworkers had kids?!?!”

Could they be old enough to have kids? I mean, bbs Xehanort was like, 80 years old so it could be a possibility.

Fire user. I take no criticism.

Or he is a status user. He would spam like, 50 status spells and just kick your ass without having to move. Look, someone in these series has to see the potential of status spells, I can’t be the only one

Imagine that instead of him being luxu, its the master. I would laugh so much at y’all’s reactions.

My first reaction to Hermod: he looks like the oldest and older brother vibes but that might be because he’s tall.

He gives me vibes of trying to be responsible like Aqua but rolls his eyes fondly at everyone else’s shenanigans.

Has a sense of humor

In terms of placement, he stands more or less on the center, which might reflect on his personality. Peacekeeper? Probably tries to be neutral.

Tries to keep Bragi in line.

Tries not to pick favorites.

The idea of him trying to talk to Vor is hilarious. What is he gonna do, stand in his knees? He is just too tall.

Maybe Xehanort is taller than him, and thats the only thing I shall accept

Senior apprentice

In terms of gameplay, he might be like Terra, a heavy hitter.

Gives good hugs

TLDR; at some point I went from analysis to simply listing off random thought, just as all my posts turn out at some point. We do not know enough about them. The fact that the last kh themed new character we had was Strelizia is insane. New blood! I’m excited for yet another mobile game I can lord over my siblings because I know the timeline and they don’t. Posible candidate for the Disney Plus series? doubtful but still a strong possibility. It is 9:08 PM and I have not beta read this.

#dark road #subject: dark road #urd #subject: young xehanort #Eraqus #Hermod #Vor #Bragi #young xehanort #kh #kingdom hearts

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redcreekstudios · 3 years

Text

Red Creek chapter 3: As i said

Warning: this story contains, violence, weapons, death, suicide, gore, horror aspects, and other forms of death and horror, talk of spirits religion and the underworld and things manifested in between. if not prepared do not read i wouldn't want anyone to get triggered

The man at the bar looked twords clark and laughed "long time ago i had met the man they called mountain man, it was an unlikely greet but shit it was better than getting lost as for the night well things changed" Clark rose his brow and narrowed his eyes "the legend whats the connection?" he asked just wanting answers and the old man smirked "as i said this town is more than a town...its history living" he said laughing "but as for the legend it uh jeez give me a moment oh oh yes i remember now a man had moved into this town when it was just a hotel a bar and a couple businesses strung on the road" he sipped from his shot glass and he looked at the wall "no one knew his name just a random stranger his wagon had holes and looked old and burned but was carrying his wife and two kids" Clark tapped the counter "and the point is?" the old man looked at him quickly "its a story give me a moment" he said as he looked around "now where was i? oh yes the man had dirty hands and cloths everyone was bothered by him he was eerie and as winter closed in it had taken the lives of his wife and two kids and well he wasn't happy, in a fit of grief the man came to this very bar and killed three men bam just like that and sat on one of these seats and was arrested drinking as the bodies layed at his feet so he was banished seeing how it would be cruel to leave a prisoner in a cold hard prison cell and he was in the woods never to be seen again people soon went missing by night and were found in...weird ways and i believe you saw him" Clark got up "i aint got time for this shit..." he said taking his hat and looked outside "you know son thats what i said and then i saw him again...take care now deputy and pray he dont find you astray off the road" he said laughing as the band played "sure thing" the old man huffed as victor looked at him "you didnt need to do that Otis" he said cleaning a glass "it has its meaning any who ya have a good one two vic see ya tomorrow its poker night!" he said laughing. down the road clark wandered to the edge of town where the sidewalk ends and he took a deep breath as he looked out seeing a lamppost the mist highlighted by the light as it shifted almost dancing under the light in a current like motion as he blinked for a moment and there stood a shadowy figure holding a lantern and hatchet with the yellow eyes and cloak and his old boots "what in the..." the man slowly shifted his way to him as with every blink he drew closer and closer and the words in his head would repeat "mountain man....mountain man" and as he got closer it got louder "mountain man! mountain man!" his blood would race as did his heart beat fast, his hands shaking as his hairs stood on end as the man stood at Clark's feet, he smelled of death and wet trees as he could vividly see a wooden mask with the yellow lights as his eyes and the man whispered "i...am...good" he said and took Clark's hand and left a burn mark on it "i...will...see...you...soon" the being said as Clark was frozen in fear feeling the burn of on his hand, he looked down at his hand as he listend to the man whisper, he could barely hear the mans raspy voice and looked back up and he was gone "what the hell" his vision blurred and he passed out on the side of the road.

he opened his eyes and he was in a clearing in the woods and there was a cabin with a dead tree standing next to it and he would look around as confused as he was he moved closer to the cabin slowly opening the door to a skeleton laid halfway on a table and chair with a knife in his hand as there was an old shelf oven and seats. the place smelled of moss and smoke as there was a hum in the other room as he walked closer the humming got louder his heart began to pace and his hairs would stand on end as the cryptic humming got louder and he made a stop as he put his hand on the doorknob and he waited and made his way to the room and walked in, there was no one there and he looked at his foot as a drop of blood fell from the ceiling and onto his boot, he held his breath hearing his heartbeat as something grabbed him snapped his neck. he woke up in his bed in a sweat breathing heavily looking around himself making sure he wasn't dead. he looked at his hand and there was a burn mark looked like a skull in a way and he wrapped his hand in bandages as he looked in the mirror seeing a shadow man and its eyes were cut out with light along with its big smile and he turned around fast seeing nothing and he looked back to the mirror and it wasn't there "what in the hell..." he spoke to himself and washed his face getting ready for work and went by the bar and looked around "oi deputy mornin how ya doin?" clark kept silent as he walked to the bar "victor you know any hunters or anyone that spends time out in the woods alot?" he seemed distressed as he clenched his bandaged hand, vic put his hand on his chin and looked at him "no sorry...oh wait wait Otis is always talking about this one guy, ahh his name his name.. oh yeah Marcus he can help ya dep" victor glanced at his hand and rose a brow "what happened there?" Clark wrote down the name and looked up fixing his hat "nothing just tired and had an accident" he said looking up at a framed newsletter and it said three dead in bar bar burns down after bodies not recovered, he focused his sight and he saw three shadow men again and they were moving close to him and Clark looked behind him "hey vic when...when did you get that" he said looking at the framed piece again not seeing the figures "oh that? Otis gave it to me yesterday after your little legend talk haha why do ya ask" he said smiling leaning on the counter "you dont buy it do ya?" he said laughing as Clark looked at victor and shook his head "no i, i dont i gotta go" he said leaving the building and walked to Otis's and knocked on the door "Otis its deputy henslin may i ask you a question?" he said putting the paper away as the door slowly opened and he smiled "oh hey dep whaddya need?" he said kindly as Clark took his sunglasses off and shook his head "vic told me you know a Marcus? guy knows the woods right basically spends all his time out there like hank?" Otis smiled and nodded "yeah me and Marcus knew hank all to well sad to hear he aint alive...but as for Marcus hes probably getting ready to leave you might catch him hes just down the lot here over in uh...oh C17" Clark smiled and nodded "thank you thank you thank you Otis your first drink is on me i gotta go" he said running back to his car and got in and drove to where it was and there was an old muscle car and the garage open as the man had a trucker hat and a vest he was young surprisingly any relation to Otis or hank it was hard to tell, Clark got out of the cruiser and walked onto the driveway "Marcus?" the man loading the trunk would stand up "yeah what...i have all the permits and my rent is in was it Martha she always complains" Clark put his hands in his pockets "no Marcus im deputy Henslin and i need you for a little investigation" Marcus rose a brow and closed the trunk "what for dep?" he ask leaning on the back of the car "well i heard there was a cabin in the woods somewhere im looking for it...might be connected to the hank situation i got going on and i know you two where close" Marcus looked off to the side and scoffed a bit "the trapper cabin? no sir

i aint going there" Clark took his glasses off and looked at Marcus in the eye "so youve seen it?" Marcus nodded as he crossed his arms "yeah i have, it aint fun place is creepy has the smell of death coming off it" he said as Clark nodded "i just need you to show me it thats all i need" Marcus thought for a moment and nodded "get in ill take ya" he said opening the door of the car and Clark got in the passenger seat, he started the car and slowly started off the way as he looked out the window "so tell me Marcus how long do you spend out here" Marcus turned the radio down a bit and took his shades and adjusted them "i spend enough time to know the layout and help lost people if thats what your asking" he said smiling a bit "but that cabin you wanna see it...its ominous place looks like its seen something bad" he continued driving down the road as Clark looked out the window. After a while they made it to a gate and pulled in on the side "this is where we go on foot deputy" he said getting out and opening the trunk and grabbed a shotgun as Clark watched him "nice piece" Marcus looked at him "it was hanks he gave it to me after our first hunt...guy was great" he said sounding down "alright lets go to this creepy ass cabin" he said walking through the woods. the trees towering them as the green clashed with the brown and grey rocks some weird trenches here and there but it was sure a sight to see from clarks angle as he slowly followed. the sun had itself center in the sky by the time the trees ended into grass "deputy eyes up we got your cabin" he said pointing and Clark rose up next to Marcus and looked forward and in his eyes the sky flashed a blood red like a static tv fighting for a station, he stood wide eyed watching the cabin as it went silent and it was almost like it was just him in the center of the universe

#redcreek:darkrealm #my writing #writers #original story #story #myth #mystery #fiction #horror #ghost and spirits #my work #fun #its0ctober

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dropsofletters · 4 years

Text

split-ends and break-ups

title: split-ends and break-ups pairing: park chanyeol/reader genre: band!au/ex-boyfriend!au/enemies to lovers!au summary: when participating in a battle of the bands to earn a position in some discography, she realizes that one of the contestants is none other than her ex. musically and physically blessed, as well as extremely sweet chanyeol is there to compete, though it falls upon his shoulders to let his competitive blood destroy his past love’s chance at success…or he could simply remember all that happened before their fall out. type: fluff/angst/romance word count: 9,688

No plethora of convincing quotes, astonishing inspirational speeches and phrases along the lines of ‘it will be alright’ could make her believe in hope. Such a harsh mindset is the necklace that hangs around her neck, digging into her skin uncomfortably, glowing in the dark when she sees the flickering lights of her apartment casting its power down on to the living room. Somewhere, her bandmate must be sleeping, specifically the guitarist, but instead of seeking for her flat pillow and her rusty bedsheets, she opts to stay up late once again, pen moving against her old notebook, writing down lyrics while her bass peacefully rests on her lap.

Not that it is any closer to sounding in its heavy tune, considering that her brain is completely dried from inspiration, wondering why musicians must suffer in order to be big. The best bands did it—she has tried to convince herself for the past two years in which they are played small gigs in local bars—, but they are truly getting nowhere. Once her apartment was only shared with herself and now, looking to save some more money to record a few songs, she had to share it with her deep sleeper of a guitarist. Somewhere in between reaching her dreams, she has lost herself. Refrigerator void of food. Soul void of happiness. Mind void of ideas.

It’s a cycle as of now.

Everything burns. The ache of her legs, seated atop a couch that can only pain her so much, cheap to its core. Her heart, it burns, simply because she doesn’t know what to do anymore—if being a secretary is even an option now that a bassist didn’t work, if people were right when they said that she should have simply stuck to something simpler. Her fingers push her bass down, trying to find a rhyme that isn’t ‘love’, for she is tired to writing songs about loving for one night and forgetting in the other. Tired is what she is, of everything and anything, of wishing for stardom but not even being able to look up at the stars in her own goddamned apartment, too tiny and closed to even have proper, wide windows.

Brand new is not her bass when she comes up with a brief hook, one that does not make her happy, the corners of her mouth turning down when anger finally lifts her off the couch. Her legs creak under her weight, putting her bass down and placing her hands on each side of her temples, fingers caressing over the skin around her parietal bones. Everything seems to be falling down for her, flashing back to the times in which people had told her that she was good—but not outstanding enough to be a musician, a well-known at that.

It’s too hard to forget when all she has ever dreamed of is to be on a stage and play the bass.

Three in the morning and the moonlight is testing her when she turns off the lights and can’t even reach for her keys, wanting nothing more to get out and look for some snacks to have in that twenty-four-hour convenience store a few blocks away. Scared, she is not, as if the world and all the bad in it paralyzed because of her disdain. Her steps are quickened, bag tossed over her shoulder and crossing her waist, a t-shirt falling halfway on her thighs, her leggings with a few holes here and there—clear notification that she was probably wearing her pajamas. Trying is not in her vocabulary anymore.

Not when the moon looks just as hopeless as she is, the wind barely blowing in such a damned place. The butts of cigarettes rest on the streets, the music is far too distant to even be pleasurable, broken glass shatters under the weight of anyone’s shoes, the drinking habits of the city toxic in its vast meaning. A deep sigh is enough to make her feel like this city doesn’t even hold oxygen anymore, simply living off monoxide. Some people are sleeping on the streets, highlight of the poverty that no one does anything to fight for, and she closes her eyes while quickening her steps.

Musicians are never fully happy, someone once told her, or maybe she read it in a magazine. What a curse that comes with the most beautiful of unions—through tunes and melodies, comes saddening memories of never reaching the dream she wished for.

On behalf of destiny, something stops her, a rock on the way that almost has her tripping over her own feet. Flip-flops are definitely not a good idea to go out in, but it is enough of a distraction to have her rolling her eyes. Leaning her hand against the brick wall by her side, she takes the rock out of her shoes, looking to the side simply to catch a glimpse of the harsh surface, covered by something that she can’t quite describe. A pamphlet, she realizes soon after, folding it in between her hands to bring it closer to her face.

A few guitars, the typical, half-assed job graphic designers do in most occasions when describing music. What catches her attention is the price of this competition, a battle of the bands with the chance of signing with a discography and some money with a few zeroes added to it. It’s enticing, glorious, enough of a push and put in such a place for her to save the pamphlet inside her pocket.

In the future, this will only be a flashback for her memoir, when everything was difficult before that battle of the bands turns her and her band into stars.

Or she sure hopes her future reads out that way.

🥁

“Maybe, we should get a band tattoo in commemoration of this moment.”

Slipping the yellow straw in between her lips to take a sip of her smoothie, she lifts her eyebrows at one of her bandmates, the vocalist to be exact. “I don’t believe your choices in tattoos, Hee Young.” She adds, looking at Hee Young as she picks from the variety of noodles in the gas station little convenience store. Maybe, this is part of the rock lifestyle, simply living off whatever snack is easier to pop in some boiling water or in the microwave. Not caring is the new black, some may say if you ask them. “Someone with a butterfly tattoo with the name of her ex on her left ass-cheek is definitely not a person to be trusted.”

Hee Young lifts her gaze, puffy and frizzy hair short and resting under her earlobes, pierced from top to bottom. Her voice is sweet compared to how tough she looks, tall and long, unapproachable at its finest. “Says the bassist with the bright yellow pants. Learn how to dress and then we can talk aesthetics.”

The only male in the group, and the drummer, pops his head from behind a rack of sunglasses, sporting ones with hearts on them. Andrew’s softened heart is too big to even be in a group with three of the most complicated, least understanding women in the world. The youngest simply wants to have fun, he says, loving the process of learning more than the success lifestyle. “Don’t cause a fuss.” He says, embarrassment coating his words. “You two are always fighting.”

“She’s the Paul to my John, let us be.” She argues, taking another sip of her smoothie before nodding her head towards the bathrooms outside the shop. “Should I go check up on Seong Im? She hasn’t gotten out in a while.”

“That’s why our diet should not only consist of noodles and salty, greasy snacks.” The youngest and yet wisest Andrew indicates, pulling the pink sunglasses down his slim nose. “It causes diarrhea.”

“Gross.” Hee Young whispers, putting the noodle packs back down on their spots. “What would you buy for a normal dinner? I think we deserve it after getting accepted in the battle of the bands.”

Andrew bites down on his bottom lip, quirking the corner of them up soon after. “…Salad sounds healthy.”

“I doubt we’re going to find vegetables in some gas station, Drew.” She argues, only to earn a shrug from Andrew.

“It may be about time for us to stop buying stuff in the gas station, then.”

“We have one hour of being a casted band in some contest and we’re already speaking as we can afford that.” Her voice is uneven when a smile appears on her face, patting her hand against Andrew’s shoulder. “But if it makes you happy, buy whatever. I’ll go look for Seong Im and wait in the car.”

What she hears in the background is the sound of Hee Young trying to convince Andrew of getting some snacks, to what he can simply deny her offers. The air fills her lungs when she opens the door, looking around the half-empty gas station at this hour of the night, some of the workers having dinner by the pavement. Her movements are slow when her fingers look in the pockets of the yellow pants that Hee Young always curses, reaching for the keys and twirling it in between her skilled bassist fingers.

Yellow is a color of happiness. The sun. Her first guitar and maybe, even the color of the dress she wore when she had her first kiss. When things were easier, definitely so, when musicians seemed cool instead of troublesome and filled with worries. The straw brings her happiness, too, her greens inserted in a drink that has her sighing at the precious coldness, the color seeping from her body now that her band got accepted after their audition. They are going to be able to compete for a contract with a discography, something that any musician is fighting and thriving for, to be treated like royalty in a world of warriors.

Her knuckles knock against the bathroom door, hearing a loud: “What?!” coming from the inside. That voice, definitely a bit obstinate, belongs to her guitarist perfectly.

“Are you okay in there?”

“Yep. Having the time of my life!”

“What happened? Indigestion?”

“…Don’t wanna talk about it.”

With a smile playing on her features, she nods her head. “I’ll be in the car when you get out.”

Near the shared car between her guitarist and herself, however, there is another car parked, a man standing beside it to fuel it. His back is turned to the workers, his profile clear to her and oh lord, does she know those features. A tall man with a nice profile, plush lips matching his slightly wide nose, big eyes innocent when he is doing most tasks, determined when playing the drums and a haze when he used to look at her. Those big hands, one resting on the windows of the car, had wrapped around her waist, rested on her thighs and explored all of her once or a hundred times of her life, in that damned car of his, with the music blasting just like it does right now, the people inside it the bandmates that she had once shared spots with.

A bassist for another band—Park Chanyeol’s band—she had once been. At the time, she was dating him, like the poor, oblivious woman that had fallen in love with him simply to break it off thanks to musical differences. Chanyeol wanted to experiment, while she wanted to continue to grow in the punk and rock spectrum of music, leaving them more separated than they had ever been. Three years later and she is in a new group, while he continues to shine in his beauty, unaware of her existence and yet, so close to her.

Something tells her that this is not the last time she is going to see him, much more when she gets closer and tries to get inside her car from the back doors, not wanting to be noticed by him, only to see a name-tag just like the one resting on top of her white tank top, reading his name and the title of the battle of the bangs competition.

No way.

No fucking way.

She was going against the band that had created her as an artist.

When Chanyeol lifts his gaze, she plops her body down in the backseat, looking up at the ceiling in hopes of not being caught by him. What she needs right now is to figure out the reason of her nervousness, why competitiveness settles inside her body in pure revenge for having him break-up with her thanks to the constant arguments about music. What he was once said was ‘great music’ could never compare to hers, she tries to argue with herself, though her mind tells her that Chanyeol’s group is fully capable of winning, too—

But no.

They are not.

Not when this is her chance of finally showing that ex-boyfriend of hers that her vision was right. Pride, oh such a damned thing, and the reason why she sits up to look at Chanyeol’s old car drive by. Pride has become her best friend just now.

🥁

When on stage, she feels like a different woman.

People are told what to do eighty percent of their lives; some understandable, some mere stigmas, some simply because of the individuals they surround themselves with. In her opinion, though, her bass gives her rules that adjust to her. She is not broke and misunderstood when on top of the stage, rehearsing in that same place in which they are going to perform just a month from them. She is not the girl-next-door turned into a nightmare when the bass pumps from her veins and her arteries to the crowd, musicians that equally appreciate and envy, all rats seeking to thrive from the same source of food. Some are behind the stage, others are resting on some of the seats, other seated in the floor but when she turns around and shares a smile with Andrew, she feels like she belongs.

Women are expected to be a million things, straight-up perfect. They are expected to be or not to be, never in between, never able to show that they are weak or if they are, they should cry for everything and anything, unable to help themselves in the eyes of the world. In her silence, people would think her troublesome personality comes from a space of clear trust issues, but that is not the case. She found other people just like her, who lifted her up when they needed to fight together. The joyful Andrew, too sweet to even be true, kicked out of his high school for bad grades back in the day and still fighting for a happy ending. The comedic Seong Im, definitely gorgeous enough to be a model and still, releasing some of the best guitar solos she has ever heard. Hee Young, the one that put them together, her middle school enemy and now, her best friend. People who had given their life out to craft music and now were fighting for a chance to be alive.

To be a band.

Her foot rests on the side of Andrew’s drum-set, smiling to him when she moves her fingers on her bass with tranquility, not missing a single tempo, the two in charge of making a song much more understood. Much to her disappointment, however, there is a point when she can’t even listen to her bass, the amplifier releasing an elongated, high, shrilling noise before her bass comes to a halt, though her movements don’t. her eyes widen, turning around and trying to turn the device on with her foot, only to see the lack of a flickering light that either shined green or red. Her eyes look for her guitarist, Seong Im losing her tempo thanks to the lack of the bass, the song falling flat when all they can hear are Seong Im’s late chords and Hee Young’s booming voice.

The crowd suddenly starts laughing, because life is a fucking sitcom and everyone needs to play along to their roles. People like them are meant to follow the stigma that is expected from them—to fail. Her fingers hook around her bass, settling it down as she rushes down the set of stairs that led down to the crowd’s spots. Thus she rushes around them, walking towards the backstage area, watching a lot of people get ready, either look-wise or in the music spectrum, though at the depths of musicians, mostly guitarists, she gets to see the big amount of cables that connected to the amplifiers and microphones, pushing a few people out of the way with her rushing, the pink beret on her head almost falling off it from the commotion.

By the cables and amplifiers, there are two men seated. One of them shorter than the other, bulkier, a cigarette falling from between his lips, the slit on his eyebrow and the rounded cheeks clearly making out the figure of the vocalist of Chanyeol’s band. Sam, the precious Sam that had been the one to put the two together, the first person to put a cigarette in between her lips, the friend that would accompany her to their first gigs, the songwriter of their group before Chanyeol and herself took the lead. Sam has always bled music, just like the past lovers do, yet he seems to be so passive about it, peaceful even.

Chanyeol and her could never do that.

By Sam’s side, however, much more obstinate and ambitious comes the magician that always captures her heart when he stares up at her, reminder of the days in which he made her feel like a goddess by pressing his lips to the spaces in her knuckles only to profess a passionate love for her, deep and profound. He would always look at her with wide eyes then, and to see him exchange that glance with her once again is nostalgia at its finest. It brings the food she had eaten earlier up her throat, the ache of her chest suddenly making her realize just how much she had changed from when she had started her path to music stardom.

Her closed-off shoes kick his knee, making him hiss when he holds it close to his chest. “So is this how we’re playing now? Are you sabotaging me?” The Chanyeol from the past would never be able to do such thing, too filled with softness inside the broadness of him to ever sabotage her. His legs lift him up from the floor simply to shake his head.

“I would never do that! I did not even know you were competing until I saw you up the stage!” Chanyeol argues, his voice a bit lifted in tone thanks to the ache in his knee, eyebrows moving with every word that escape his plush lips. A part of her, deep inside her brain, is telling her that she has got it twisted. Chanyeol is not one of those crazy men in the industry, and yet, she is here doubting him.

“You’re the only person here, though.” She argues, watching as people surround them in needs of hearing something more. “It would not surprise me. It was always about competition in between us two—”

Chanyeol releases a soft breath, reaching over to where she is simply to place a hand over her babbling mouth. “It was never like that. You were the one that saw it like that.”

Her tongue sticks out to get him off, though it works fairly soon, having his big palm running across his dark tee to get the saliva off. “Okay, so who did it? My amplifier is clearly disconnected and it was not like that before!”

Apart from being her ex-boyfriend, Chanyeol had once been her best friend. It’s shrilling to see such a tight bond of when they were younger, sharing anecdotes over bass solos and drum-kits, turn to dust now that they are older. Maybe, that is what love does—it destroys people, leaving them like a shell of what they used to be, or simply turning good memories into bitter ones. There are hundreds of songs she can’t sing anymore in fear of remembering him, the only man she has ever truly loved, the one person who has slowed down her world and turned it into beauty before they decided to shoot it down.

The sound of sweet laughter has her turning around, the warmth of Chanyeol’s body seeping through her skin when her back is turned to him. “We were just playing around with the cables. Chill.” One of the member of the duos competing adds, shrugging her tanned shoulders and crossing her arms over her chest.

“…So you were the one to do it?”

“We were trying to connect our amplifier and fucked it up. There are too many wires there, honey. I’m a bassist, not an engineer.”

Something about the woman with the orange hair, definitely bleached to utter lifelessness, speaks about the world as it is today. When people suddenly became swords instead of the battlers, wanting nothing more than to hurt those who got close to them or entered their territory. People cannot age, they cannot be better, they have to remain mediocre just like them. The world is all about surviving, but how can one survive when its entire population wants to slaughter each other? “I’m not playing games with you. You can’t do that type of shit. It’s not a game to me. My entire band looked bad because of you.”

“With a name like that, I doubt I did much work.” The woman says, her lips parting to retort to her comment, though the tall man behind her speaks before she could.

“Hey, calm down. You don’t have to talk to her like that.”

“It’s a competition. It’s what people do.”

Her fists bawl together, nails clinging to her skin when she pushes her body forward, ready to launch a punch on this woman’s face, a side of her that she had never seen suddenly growing inside her. They are fighting for a spot in a discography, only to be manufactured versions of who they really are, their friendships highlighted for the crowd to eat up like candy. That is as good as it gets, she imagines, stress taking the best of her when she nears the other bassist, only to be stopped by a pair of long and skinny arms wrapped around her, familiar to her skin when his booming voice can only whisper to her to lay off.

Not in those words, exactly, Chanyeol is intelligent enough to tell her that everything is going to be okay.

All force leaves her body, this demon that overtakes her when realizing that her dream is only a few fingers away and yet, she can’t grasp it. The sabotaging woman is angry, as it seems, placing one hand over her chest and cursing her out. Her name rolls off her tongue easily, like she knows her, the only thing this bassist is capable of seeing is her mistakes. Instead, she gives a glimpse of her back, turning round to see the long column of Chanyeol’s neck, his Adam’s apple prominent, the neck in which she used to hide her face in her toughest times and now, she feels like if she tried, she wouldn’t recognize the man in front of her.

“Hey, just ignore her. You’ll get disqualified if you fight. You’re not like this.” He tells her, as if repeating what she already knows.

She’s not like this.

But she has to for the dream.

“I will. I just—I—” Her voice is cut off when she finally catches a glimpse of her bandmates, all waiting for her. There are moments in life in which she feels lost, suddenly wondering what happened to the sweeter side of life. One of those memories come from them; those three people that see her every day, Sam and Chanyeol…all definitely a reminder of the golden woman she used to be, now desperate, clawing to the bits of dreaming that are left for her. “I’m sorry I blamed you.”

“Hey—”

Without much due, she goes over to her bandmates, welcomed in arms that wrap around her and make her feel safe. She doesn’t know the person she used to be in the past or the one that hopes in the future, but she wants to better this version of her. Of now. And she wants to do it as peacefully as possible.

On the stage, she is not her split-ends or her cheap clothing, she is not the roughness of her fingertips or the troubled financial status she is going through. On stage, she is an artist. On stage, she feels like she can breathe.

And no one can get through her path to the spotlight, that is for damn sure.

🥁

Her feet barely touch the ground, preparations for the big night of performance taking the best of her, sleep ridden body resting against a comfortable seat, trying to ease the ache on her limbs. Her fingers carefully play the bass, a little bit softer than normally, coming up with whatever is going on through her brain as she wonders if she should go back home, wrap herself in the blankets on her bed and lay her back on a grainy mattress. That, or she could stay here, being one with the empty practice room, getting used to the lights on her, finding inspiration on the beautiful notebooks they were gifted thanks to the competition and practicing a bit more with this equipment she can’t get enough of.

Over anything, she is a music freak. The type of person that sat down during her recess at school simply to read the old music books in the library, the one that had fallen in love with another musician when she really felt like dating. The type of person who would only stop her crying if she listened to music when she was younger, or the type of person that does not bleed disappointment in her lyrics or tunes, but instead focuses on showcasing the million parts of her heart that connect with a note. Be it D or E or even B, whatever she feels is painted in hues of colors.

Sometimes, the words in the paper do more than talk to her. Sometimes, they get to be alive, as well.

But she is not a singer. Damn her and her voice, she has always thought she is a bit too rough, for she doesn’t have that angelic nature that comes with a singer, that charisma that connects a person and brings them to tears. Perhaps, the sound of her bass would never be the tranquility to a person’s hearts, but the lyrics behind her own band are her own. Someone out there would learn to breathe with happiness again with her own hopefulness, coming from the depths of her still innocent soul that asks for a happy ending.

Or a happy development. A happy beginning never happened, either way.

But it will happen, it sure will.

The sound of a person’s voice in the otherwise empty practice room captured her attention, making her halter her movements as she turns her face to the side, almost poetically. The music is what bounds people for life; a dedicated song, a handwritten piece, anything can be a reminder of the most atrocious or beautiful moments of life. In this case, a deep voice fills the air with the sound of words she had written years ago—stupid, lovesick, the type of song that would have made her giggle and now has her rolling her eyes while some kind of feeling settles in her gut.

Besides all memories that she shares with Chanyeol, songwriting is one of them. It is as if they are one and the same, like someone copied and pasted their artistic soul into the same person. Though, they are not quite like soulmates, breaking up with Park Chanyeol felt like the worst moment of her life, being ripped apart in half with what they had become. Second chances never came, too bitter because of the one thing that connected them. What had once been the reason behind their ‘hey, you like that song too?!’ became the end of their relationship.

Funny, considering Chanyeol was the first one to tell her nothing would happen to the band they dated…and he kept his promise, until she decided to leave for something ‘more of her own’. His own heartbreak heightened then, telling her if their friendship and the future of their group was meaningless to her. At the time, it was, and now that she is older she wonders just how much things could have changed if only they stopped competing against each other. Or, for the matter, trying to push their own beliefs on the other when they just wanted to change.

People grow…they can’t ever stay the same, and to expect that from someone is deadly for any type of relationship. Platonic or romantic.

That song he is singing is the first song they ever composed together. The tune? A mess. The lyrics? Too full of love. The memory? Enchanting.

She swears she can see the Chanyeol in their old apartment, shared with two other people, when she enters the practice room and immediately realizes her existence. An entire week has passed and yet, she cannot keep herself by his side for more than a second. She doesn’t want him to ask how she is doing, or ponder why she is obstinate and short-tempered now. It only comes to show that she is the same person that had left the group three years ago. However, his eyes soften, half-covered by the bucket hat on his head when his lips pout out to speak to her.

“It’s midnight. What are you doing here so late?”

She plays another note in her bass, throwing her head back and looking up at the sky. “Answer that same question first.”

“I was…uh…” He clears his throat after trailing his voice. “The equipment here is good and I wanted to try out some of the instruments without getting weird looks from anyone.”

Oh, right, how not to expect such a thing from the ever-talented Park Chanyeol, guitar player, bass player and singer, also leaving some trail of him in pianos and whatever he touches. Her life, included. She looks at him, then, pondering if she should comment about the song he was just singing. “I was here practicing.” She whispers, watching as he nods his head and trots over to the stage, pushing his backpack down on the floor before reaching over for the guitar. “Why don’t you take the microphone first?”

Chanyeol’s cheeks lift up in a smile at that, that infamous dimple appearing out of nowhere. “Why? Do you want me to?”

“You’re a singer hidden behind a drum-kit.” She tells him, stopping her motions on her bass before giving him a smile of her own. “I always told you, you should have been a back-up vocalist.”

His long fingers wrap around the microphone, as if pondering, and this is the way he is. He listens to people, to criticism, curiosity is just one of his traits. “…Ah, no, I’m not fitted for that position.” He tells her, looking ahead as if a crowd was in there, only to break his gaze and turn back to her. “I was meaning to tell you earlier this week that your music is sounding a whole lot better. Your technique has improved.”

“…I have had time to practice.” She confesses, aware of how her life has only revolved around music lately. For better or for worse. “I maintain my ground by saying I will only be fully pleased when I see you as a vocalist.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve heard me sing. I’m not that special.”

Like the hug of a person that smells just like them, not like perfume, not like body-wash, not like sweat or anything of the like. They smell like skin, soft and warm, like the place you belong in. That is how Chanyeol singing feels like. He never noticed it then, how all the anxiety she could have felt for the future was healed with just the sound of his voice, singing or not. “You are special.” She admits, standing up from her spot and cracking her knuckles. The common ache of a bassist. “I mean, you’re my ex, but I’m not stupid. I know talent when I know it. I sing like a dying rat, and you were the one to help me out with songs when we composed together.”

“You remember?”

“Of course I do!” She answers, pushing her hands in the depths of her pocket. “Sometimes I think of a rhyme and I am like: “Shit, this is so good” and then I realize I used it for our songs.”

Chanyeol chuckles at that, shaking his head and his whole body, like he does when he is extremely happy. “I do that, too.”

“Do you remember our first song?”

“…It’s cringe, though.”

“I know,” She answers, aware of how she would have expected him to simply press his mouth to the microphone and sing the words out. She sits by the edge of the stage by then, jumping down before shrugging. “I just wanted to remind you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Alone?”

Reaching for her bag in one of the seats, she nods. “I have my pepper spray, my taxi number and a few punches if someone tries to try me.” Chanyeol’s lips quirk up at that, as if he is always amused by her, or perhaps he knows her enough to acknowledge that she is, indeed, one of the strongest yet softest people he knows. “Go home safe, Chanyeol.”

“You, too.” He says in the microphone, earning a laugh from her that she tries to muffle, pushing the entrance doors open before being welcomed by the elongated hallway.

The best part is when she hears Chanyeol humming to himself, the tune of their first song together clear, solid, like he has never quite forgotten it.

She is not Chanyeol’s first love, she believes, but she is surely one of his most astonishing ones.

🥁

The commotion of the city is loud in the background, but she can’t bring herself to care when the entire world rotates around the fact that there is a Rolling Stone magazine editor in the room, a journalist, the best of the best, looking for a band to interview before the grand event. Seong Im had insisted on wearing a dress for that party near the beach, the big flowers on the fabric contrasting with her dark skin, but she was against prepping herself too much for the party. Maybe, she should’ve. It could have caused more of an impression on the dress-cladded journalist that was inspecting the talents around the party, their appearances and how they seem to act in such a spot after their brief performances.

For a moment, she pretends to concentrate on the scenery outside of the wide windows, though her eyes catch a glimpse of the journalist every once in a while. The sand is almost crystal clear, the waves moving with one another, glistening under the rounded and full moon. The sky is almost black, she realizes, the same shade of her ripped jeans, something just to keep in mind. However, when she looks towards the journalist’s table, she realizes Chanyeol is nearing her, looking far more put together than she does, with a black button down that shines—perhaps, glitter is the new fashion for him—and a tight pair of pants, perfect on his legs and his calves.

Her feet pick up their speed, as fast as she tries to live through life, moving to his side before wrapping her hands around his arm. Well, it was meant to be his arm, the one with the house and the rose tattooed on it, she recalls, remembering the time she held his hand when he got them done. Nonetheless, that is what she is holding—his hand, warm, soft, delicate, like he is used to wrapping his fingertips around hers, barely slotted together and yet, imminently there. Chanyeol brings back all the memories in a simple touch, like she forgot how safe she felt when they walked together, hand in hand, instead of walking alone in separate ways. The tattoos on his knuckles match well with her skin, with the bracelet around her wrist that he may have given her in the past and when she looks at him, she can only babble an apology.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Why are we holding hands?” Chanyeol asks, quirking his eyebrow up at their slotted hands, but the brief smile on his face speaks otherwise.

“I need you not to talk to the Rolling Stone journalist.” She tells him, placing her hands behind her back and she may as well tie them behind her back because there is no way in hell that by rushing to Chanyeol, she had held his hand. Some fish just don’t swim too far from the ocean. “…I have rehearsed my interview with her for the past week and I am about to approach her. I need to get that article. Please, just don’t.”

Chanyeol crosses his arms over his chest then, like he is trapping all his feelings in his chest. “I also want to be interviewed, silly.” He tells her, soon after rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Don’t look at his forearms, she tells herself, but she partially wonders if their couple tattoo is still written in his skin. An emptied, outlined heart in half, the one that unites with her left arm, while his is on his right arm. It’s still there, like it is too hard to forget the mess they had made. “It’s the Rolling Stone magazine. Anyone wants to be there in an article.”

“…You already have a bit of fame around the city. I don’t.”

“What’s a little bit more of fame?”

Pushing her lips upwards, she tries to cover the half of her tattooed heart on her arm. Had he noticed? “You start to sound like me.” She tells him, aware of how star-struck and thirsty for fame she can be. “You never did it for the fame.”

“I could’ve changed.” He prompts.

“I hope you didn’t.”

“Why?” Chanyeol questions and she tries not to think about the amount of times she held on to him, and suddenly wrapping her arms around him and talk about their lives sounds like the best idea. She hasn’t realized that not a single person has ever made her feel like Chanyeol, not pre-him, not past-him. Everything would have been better for them if only music had not gotten in the way and now, music is what unites them again.

It’s easier to lie, but there she is, being truthful because Chanyeol’s eyes are enough to capture her. Brown, lord, so brown that she feels lost in the forest that is him. His skin glistens, his youth radiates even through aging, like he will always be Chanyeol, but not hers. “Because you are what the music industry needs.” She reassures. “Hookers, alcohol and drugs are overrated, they are an aesthetic. Music shouldn’t be about the visual; it should be a lifestyle.”

“That’s the type of visual you liked, though.” He tells her, pointy in his words like he is trying to prove that she was half of the reason why they broke up. The rest is his fault, as well. “You wanted the rock lifestyle. Why can’t I have it now?”

“Is this your way of telling me you like hookers?” She tries not to get him too close, changing the subject while staring at him and Chanyeol’s smile quirks up, embarrassed in the way his cheeks tint.

“Why? Do you care?”

“I do.”

But he doesn’t let go. “Why?”

“Because you aren’t like what you’re trying to make yourself to be,” She tells him. “You are one of the few hopes I have in society, actually.”

Chanyeol smiles at that, half hiding into himself but he is unable to. Too tall, too elongated, misguided body-wise, like he holds this skeleton simply to protect his softened heart. Maybe, making a mistake with her had made him a better man. She likes to believe so. “All props to hookers, don’t get me wrong, but I got out of a romantic situation not too long ago and I realized I’m more of that type of person. I’m tired of casual dating and hook-ups.”

So, he had dated. It’s expected; handsome and charming. She shouldn’t be mad, but she would be lying if she said there isn’t a ghost of jealousy inside her. “I see,”

“What about you?”

“I have never been with a hooker, if that’s what you’re asking.” She answers, bringing a laugh out of him.

“I’m asking if you have dated after…” His words trail after that, trying to find his place to ask that question. Their mistake, as she likes to call it. “After us.”

Say you did. Say you did. Lie to him and say you did. “I went out on dates, but…nothing serious.”

“I imagined you would have gotten someone by now.”

“I don’t need anyone, let’s start there.”

“Oh, I know.” Chanyeol tells her, looking down at his hands before chuckling. “Rather, I think people would need you.”

She scoffs at that. “I’m a mess,” She admits, because this is Chanyeol she is talking to. His hands could never hurt her heart, at least not intentionally. “I doubt I’d be any help for someone.”

“You helped me.”

“With what?” She asks, aware that Chanyeol had helped her grow more than he realized, before and after their relationship.

“Finding my place in music. You leaving the group had me devastated, but it gave me direction.” And that is the beauty of Chanyeol, how he stands up and dusts himself off as he travels endlessly. Maybe, that is why he helped her so much, just like she helped him. He showed her that one bad song isn’t a bad album; a painful memory isn’t a lifetime worth of sadness. Some people have to move on, for their sake, for their happiness, to find the light and the will in the world.

“Chanyeol—”

The man looks to the side, as if ashamed, pointing at the direction of the journalist as he sighs. “Someone took our spot already.”

Another band is seated with the journalist, as if they belong there, as if they are the new legendary small group. Somehow, she doesn’t care. “I don’t care.” She says. “Fame isn’t for me anyways.”

“You think so?”

“It drained away my light in my hunt for it. I can only imagine what it will do if I reach it.” She answers, licking the inside of her cheek before humming. “Have you eaten?”

“I was thinking of ordering something just now,” He replies. “Want to join me?”

“Sure, we can catch up.”

His eyes, brown and deep, a forest that starts to clear, light up at that. “I would love that.”

🥁

With a lollipop placed inside her mouth, Seong Im is seated on the hood of their old car, in front of the venue in which they are going to play in. The night is packed, only a small group of people—friends and relatives alike—gathering to see the stars. Well, as rock-star as it can get to battle for a position in a discography. Instead, her band is much too occupied in talking about the other individuals in the competition. “I don’t know. He’s nice and all, but Chanyeol looks like the type of dude who fucks in front of a mirror just because he thinks he’s hot. He probably flexes, too.”

She presses her lips together, looking inside her box of guitar picks before sighing. “He isn’t.”

And she should have shut her mouth entirely and sincerely, simply because there is a moment of dull silence before she realizes that she has just confirmed that she has a way of knowing. She doesn’t look up, however, pretending to be torn in deciding between two picks before Seong Im kicks her side softly. “Hey, how would you know that?”

Hee Young is the next one to speak, braiding her hair and interrupting her voice warm-ups to reiterate. “She definitely knows. They dated for like two years.”

Two years and eight months, to be exact. Not that long now that she thinks about it, it could have gone for longer if only they had put themselves first, even before music. The reminder is definitely not soothing and now that she gets to hear Seong Im gasp with one arm wrapped around Andrew’s uninterested persona, she speaks up. “Why didn’t you tell us that? We thought you hated him!”

“I don’t,” She announces, shrugging her shoulders soon after at the memory of the nights in which pressing her forehead to his was the only moment in which her headaches would stop. That being poor with him was what had pushed her to want to be rich and successful. That diamond rings only seemed to shine bright if he was there. “I could never hate him.” She has tried to, and for a while when they were dating she thought she hated him, but the fire from his soul would always be eased by the rain of her. There would never be anything more comforting than knowing she really tried with him.

“…So…that’s the band you were in before.” Seong Im finishes, blinking rapidly before resting her palm against her forehead. “Why did you leave?”

“We didn’t break up in good terms, I guess.”

“And why don’t you hate him? You should, if you ended up badly.” Her roommate continues, making her roll her eyes and close the lid of her woodened box.

“Because I was different back then. I let everything take the best of me, we fought too much…” She replies, wondering if things would have been different had she not being so closed up in her taste of music and had Chanyeol been more connected to his roots, not as experimental as he wanted to be. One too risky, the other too safe. “But it happened because it had to happen. I am here with you guys because of it.”

Hee Young chuckles. “You were heartbroken for a few months; dare I say a year.”

“Well, music put me back on track.”

“And music made you lost the love of your life.” Hee Young retorts, earning a sigh from her.

“I’d lose that and much more to music. I’m sure he thinks the same.”

Seong Im pushes her weight off the car, taking her by the arm and looking around the street before pushing her towards the car nearby, coated in layers of water and soap, all indicator of someone washing it. The car is not as old as hers, but she has definitely seen it before—and has been in it, as well—, and just when she looks in front of her after watching the smile on Seong Im’s face, she realizes who is washing this car.

It is a good look, too.

His sweater is wrapped around his waist, leaving him in a tank top even through the cold night. He must be freezing, too, with his hands rubbing furiously at the window. Chanyeol seems to be having a hard time, a pool of water by his feet settling him down. His eyes turn back at the sound of heavy steps and a squeal, both coming from her, and when he notices her, his frown seems to erase slightly. He calls out her name in such a way that seems like a song, enough to take the oxygen away from her lungs and she realizes then that music has really taken her life away. This man could have easily been by her side, she could be wrapped in his arms in this cold night, but they are too far away from each other, exes at their finest.

He is still kneeling, trying to get that spot in the window when she speaks up. “Did a bird poop on your car?”

“You’re saying it as if it didn’t happen,” Chanyeol comments, bringing laughter up in her when she kneels by his side, taking the other cloth bathed in soap to help him clean whatever content is on the window. “I had to go get some water inside and clean it. Just how embarrassing would it be if the journalists here saw my car with some bird shit on it.”

“It’s iconic.”

“It isn’t.” Chanyeol argues, his body shivering, the goosebumps over his arms noticeable. It is then that she realizes she is staring at his profile, his recently dyed red hair a reminder of that conversation they had after practice one of these days, in which he asked her for tips on how he could dye his hair on his own. It looked good, actually. She pushes her body closer to his, in a position in which their arms are placed together, earning a gasp from him. “…You…”

She looks down at their arms, realizing that the heart had formed, making her hiss softly. “Yeah…”

“You didn’t get it covered.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want to know?” She questions, watching as Chanyeol places one hand on the side of his face, his elbow resting against his strong knee, staring at her as if he can’t believe it and with amusement he chuckles. He really can’t, as it seems.

“I didn’t cover it because I love you too much. You were my best friend before we dated, I can’t simply erase you like that.” He whispers, like he doesn’t even want the wind to know. The rivers inside her become troublesome, reminder of how she had always tried to push him out of her body, saying that they would have never worked out and that he was the one at fault for never understanding her. The toxicity of them came when they decided to work together…or when they became obsessed with growing. “Truth is that I didn’t expect you to keep it on.”

So, this is why she fell in love with him, because he is sentimental above anything else. Chanyeol had once told her he loved her, a thousand times at that, but the first one is special. Seated by a window, looking out at the snow, he said the warmest thing there could ever exist. He spoke about his demons, the insecurities that ate at him, how he tried to move on too fast…to be faster than life itself, and how that kept biting at him. What dresses him in toughness is unable to keep him from her, show the real colors of the man she has loved. Continues to love in the depths of her heart, too. “…It’s part of me by now.” She tells him. “If I covered it, I was afraid I would lose me.”

“You wouldn’t,” He tells her. “Because you’re not my half. You are more than that.”

“…I know.” She replies. “I wish I had known that sooner.”

Her knees are about to give in, just in time for Chanyeol to stand up and take a dry cloth, rubbing at the windows with ease. “I guess it happens to the best of us.”

“Being friends, dating, breaking up and one of them leaving the group because they couldn’t even stand the other?” She asks, making a smile appear on his face. “That’s not very common.”

“But it’s our story.”

“So?”

“That makes it better.”

The sound of her band name being called makes her turn around, albeit hesitantly, because she doesn’t want this moment to end. She is being called to get ready, earning a sigh from her when she stares back at Chanyeol, only to see him stare at her like he wants to learn her. Study her. He needs to keep her in his memories for when he is old and he is bound to forget. “I have to go now.” She says, walking backwards just in time to see him lift a thumb up.

“Good luck in there.”

But the toughest of lucks was losing a man like him.

🥁

The skies above mock her, shining with city lights and clouds and stars, all too bright for her, a reminder that success is not knocking at her door. The thick yellow jacket on top of her white hoodie is supposed to make her feel more at ease, even remotely happy, but giving her best on stage only to come up on third place was definitely a low blow for them. Andrew took it the best, celebrating getting such a spot, but the women in the group were devastated. The victory goes to Chanyeol’s band, she tries to process, happy yet a bit puzzled.

What would her group do now?

Sam had taught her how to smoke and she doesn’t do it at all, but right now it sounds like a great idea, going for a drive and stopping at the usual gas station simply to pick up some snacks. Much to her delight, however, the same man that she has been watching for the past month, talking and reconnecting like they will earn something from it, is fueling his car just at that moment. Just like her, he is wrapped in cozy clothing, the tips of his ears red, bringing a smile to her face when she pushes the box of cigarettes to the depth of her coat. Now, she doesn’t need them.

“What’s up winner?” She asks him, making him widen his eyes and press a hand to his chest. Chanyeol turns around to look at her, smiling at the sight of her, though a bit nostalgic.

“Doing great.”

“I’m glad.”

“What are you doing here?” He is the first to ask, leaning his body against his car. His arms are crossed over his chest and she still feels giddy at the reminder that under those clothing, a tattoo keeps them connected.

“I’m going to grab some snacks, you know.” She tells him, clicking her tongue soon after and nodding, as if nothing is wrong. Actually, she is healthy and she got some recognition from her hard work. Her band may not be fine, but the future may be brighter, with less debt and more fame.

“Good,” He says. “Actually, I was planning on asking you something.”

She nears him, copying his position against his car. “What would that be?”

His lips part majestically, though a bit confused in their approach. “Sam and I were talking, along with our groupmates, and we figured we could have two bassists. You could join us before we sign our contract with the new discography.”

Chanyeol may be her past and god, he was one hell of a good past, the ignition of her dream of music…but her friends were there for her when they had broken up, she created a new world and discovered that her story with Chanyeol was mistaken when they added another lover to their sheets and their hearts. Music. “I’m going to say no.” She denies. “I am happy with my guys. Nothing against you…or your band, but I am not betraying my own.”

“I expected you to say that.” The wind blows near them, moving the strands of his red hair, his cheeks getting touched by the gentlest of pink touches. Chanyeol rarely blushes but the wind serves to caress his tan skin. “You were always too loyal.”

“That’s a good thing. We dated, after all.”

“We did.” Chanyeol comments, hearing the sound of his car getting completely fueled before paying attention to the task at hand. “I wanted to ask you something else—”

“What would that be?” She quirks one eyebrow, aware of how Chanyeol’s deep voice is doing its best to look for her joints and her bones, drag her back into the beauty of him.

“Since we won’t be able to see each other almost every day from now on, I thought I could take you out on a date.” For old time’s sakes, and to mend what was once broken. Like split-ends, their split will never end, for they will always come back together. “…Not that you have to say yes.”

On the tip of her toes, she reaches forward to shorten the distance between the two, her lips touching his in one of those brief ‘good morning’ kisses she gave him when they just woke up. At the time, Chanyeol was not much of a morning person, but he must have lit up this entire night with the taste of coffee-brewed kisses. She smiles, showing a big part of her teeth when she says: “Did you really think I was going to say no?”

Caught red handed, Chanyeol wraps his arms around her waist, leaving his mouth slightly ajar to kiss her softly, like he wants to serve every night they spent alone in just one try, bring warmth to every corner of their souls. He wants the ‘us’ they crafted back, the one before music could get in between them. “No.” He whispers. “I missed you so much.”

For the first time in over three years, she can wrap her arms around his shoulders, rest her cold nose against his neck and breathe in his scent when she promises herself they can get through this, they can love each other again, not like they ever did, with one heart palpitating to connect them, creating music that they could only share with each other.

“Not more than how much I missed you.”

#chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol #exo scenarios #exo #kpop scenarios #writing #exo au #exo fluff #exo angst #chanyeol au #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol angst #drummer!chanyeol #tell me what you guys think please!

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angelic-holland · 5 years

Text

When Two Becomes Three // th x fem!reader x jg

Summary: im going to hell anyways so i might as well have fun before I do, sort of a prequel to ‘Just Desserts’ but you don’t have to read that to understand this

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, humiliation / degradation (idk what the difference is between them), threesome, ruined orgasms, overstimulation, like just lots of smut bye, mile higher club where it’s at!

New York, October 2018

“Hey Tom?” You ask as Tom lazily strokes through your folds as his come drips out of you.

“Yeah pretty girl?”

“I was thinking, fuck,” you whimper as he circles your clit.

“What were you thinking? Go ahead, use your words.”

“Do you think Jake thinks I’m attractive?”

Tom pauses his movements, fingers stilling inside of you, thumb moving off your clit.

“Gonna leave me for him?”

“No, no, Tom, I just, fuck, I was thinking we could, maybe, have a threesome?” You ask hopefully, watching as Tom smiles above you.

“You wanna see if Jake wants to fuck you?”

“Please,” you whimper as he begins to fuck his come back into you.

“Wanna call him now?”

“Now?” You sit up slightly, eyes squeezing shut as Tom’s thumb rolls over your clit.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Because I’m, fuck, you just came in me and I’m a mess.”

“Oh I’m sure Jake loves messes,” Tom chuckles, pulling his fingers out of you, trailing them up your bare stomach before circling your nipples, further, further, bringing them to your mouth.

“Good girl, suck on my fingers and we’ll text Jake.”

You slip your eyes shut and work Tom’s fingers with your mouth like you would his cock.

Once you’ve cleaned yourself up, you stay, exhausted and naked on the bed in Tom’s trailer, Tom slipped away to call Jake. You listen as he talks in a whispered voice over the phone.

“Jake will be here in five minutes, why don’t you get into position and be a good girl for him?”

“How do you want him to take me?” You ask, scrambling to sit up on the bed.

“Why don’t you show him what that pretty mouth of yours can do?”

“Fuck,” you clench your thighs together, feeling a fresh warmth trickling down your folds.

“Go ahead, be a good girl for him, that’s what he likes,” Tom runs a hand down your arm, tugging you off the bed. He settles you down on your knees facing his couch, you sat, hands spread on your thighs, lightly clenching them as you waited.

“We’ll talk through some stuff first okay? Our safe words?” Tom asks, carding a hand through your hair before giving it a short tug.

“Okay,” you gasp, leaning back into his hold.

There’s a short knock, quick, to the point. You both look over at the door and you whimper as Tom let’s go of you.

“Hey, oh fuck, hello,” you hear a deep voice and look over at Jake, standing in sweats and a t-shirt, watching your jaw drop, “well isn’t she fucking gorgous? You drop to your knees like that for anyone or is Tom special?”

“Tom’s special,” you whisper.

“God, you look fucking divine, you gonna suck my cock?” he asks and you see the glint of his gold necklace underneath his white t-shirt.

You nod, licking your lips.

“Now, what’s our safeword system?” Tom asks, sitting down on the couch, not in front of you, that’s reserved for Jake.

“Green for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop, and if my mouth is full,” you wink at Jake as he settles down on the couch in front of you, “I snap twice.”

You watch as his lips upturn into a smirk, “good, because your mouth will be plenty full today.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, rubbing your thighs together, smiling at the sweet pleasure that courses through your veins.

“Stop that,” Jake commands, his voice is deep and authoritative, “spread those legs, don’t be a fucking slut.”

You moan and stop moving, looking to Tom, who was stroking his cock, hard again over his sweatpants.

“Eyes here baby girl, today’s not about your pleasure, it’s about mine, so why don’t you spread those legs and show me what that slutty mouth of yours can do?” Jake says, sitting forward slightly and pushing his sweatpants down.

Holy fuck.

He wasn’t wearing any boxers, his cock hard and bobbing against his stomach.

“Go ahead baby girl, suck me off,” he says and your hands move quickly, one resting on his thigh while you try to look seductive as you lick your fingers, getting them wet to wrap around the base of his cock. He smiles as you do and it sends a shiver down your spine as you dip your tongue out and lick the head of his cock, pushing back the foreskin slightly, your lips wrapped around the head as you sucked.

You blinked up, taking your time, sucking softly at the head before moving back and licking stripes up the side, tracing the thick vein on the underside of his cock.

“Is she always this slow?” Jake asks, sitting back slightly and forcing you to sit up to keep your mouth on his cock.

“She’s a tease,” Tom shrugs, “I like it.”

“Nah, not my style, put your hands behind your back baby girl,” Jake directs you and you let go of the base of his cock, clasping your hands behind your back, “I’m gonna fuck your mouth, you don’t get to tease me, you get to give me pleasure.”

You moan as his hand grasps at the back of your head, forcing your further down his cock, choking as he hits the back of your throat. He laughs as spit runs down your chin, a dark chuckle as he begins to fuck your mouth.

You sit as still as you can, taking everything he gives you, eyes watering as you look up at Jake, a smirk on his face, then over at Tom, his jaw dropped as you’re so obedient for Jake, so easily.

“How the fuck did you get her to listen to you so quickly?”

“What do you mean?” Jake’s hand slows down, pushing your mouth onto his cock slower, talking about you as if you weren’t there, as if you weren’t a needy and dripping mess on the floor, his cock shoved down your throat.

“I mean, she just listened to what you said, no defiance.”

“Well, I like my girls obedient, don’t want to have to fuck them into submission, want them to be good girls for me, why? You like to take little brats and fuck them until they know their place?”

“I mean, yeah, taking a brat, making them good, it’s fun. But this also, fuck, she looks so pretty taking your cock so well.”

“Yeah, she’s a good little slut huh?” Jake says, pressing harder against the back of your neck, fucking your mouth harder. You whimper, tears slipping down your cheeks as your throat constricts further around his cock.

“Yeah, she got so wet when I said we could invite you.”

You whimper, feeling your cunt clench around nothing, watching as Jake pulls your head back, forcing your mouth off of him.

“Can I fuck her?” Jake asks, one hand still tight on the back of your neck, the other rests against your cheek, his thumb rolling over your lip, you sneakily roll your tongue along it before he pulls your head back.

“Don’t do things without permission,” Jake tells you before shoving his thumb between your lips, “suck.”

You listen, your eyes slipping shut as you work his thumb letting him direct your movements.

“Yeah, you want him to fuck you pretty girl?” Tom asks and you open your eyes, looking up at your boyfriend, nodding around Jake’s thumb.

“She’s all yours,” Tom nods, watching as Jake let’s go of your head, pulling his spit slick thumb from your mouth. He watches as you’re putty in Jake’s hands, he literally picks you up like you’re a fucking feather, tossing you over his shoulder as you squeal. He watches as Jake’s hand smacks down on your ass before tossing you on the bed.

“Get on all fours for me baby girl,” Jake says, his eyes dark as he watches you slowly turn over, your back arching, your ass high in the air.

“Fuck,” Tom mutters, he notices your hands trembling to hold yourself up, eyes watching as Jake slowly takes off his clothes.

“You wanna watch me fuck your girl Tom? Want to watch me fuck her like the slut she is?” Jake asks, knees on the bed, hands caressing your thighs and ass before smacking you.

“Shit, yeah,” Tom managed to get out.

You jolt forward and whimper, a combination of the sting from his hands, the humiliating words that sounded like honey dripping from his mouth, and the way Tom nodded, watching you moan every time Jake’s hand came in contact with your ass.

“You’re fucking loud aren’t you baby girl? Like the way my hand feels against your ass?” Jake asks and you nod, turning your head back and staring at the headboard as he ran his cock along your folds.

“Yes, fuck, Jake, feels so good,” you moan and there’s a smack that’s harder and swifter than any of the ones before it.

“You’ll call me sir when I’m fucking you, understand?” Jake asks, smoothing his hand down the burning skin of your thigh.

“Yes sir, I understand.”

“Good,” he mutters, “you’re both clean, Tom, am I allowed to come in her?”

You whine at that, the thought of Jake filling you with his come shortly after Tom did, it made you push back into his hands.

“As long as she’s okay with it, what do you think y/n? Want Jake to fill you with his come?”

“Please, oh god, yes, yes,” you cry out as Jake fills you, his hands moving to grip your hips as his thighs are flush with yours.

Immediately he’s pounding into you, there’s no teasing, no gentle strokes like Tom. His hands are huge and fingers thick as they creating bruising indents in your skin.

“Fuck, she’s so tight Tom, feels so good wrapped around my cock,” Jake mutters, which makes you cry out and clench even harder around him. The way he doesn’t even acknowledge you.

“Yeah, my favorite position is her riding me but this comes in a close second,” Tom notes, moving to the side of the bed, stroking your cheek for a moment.

There’s a glassy, fucked out look in your eye as you try to focus on Tom, on the way he pulled his cock out and is jerking himself off to Jake fucking you. But you can’t because each thrust of Jake feels so good and has you jilting forward.

“Stay still,” Jake grunts and his hand is on the back of your neck, pushing your face into the pillow, your arms collapsing to the sides. He holds you down, mouth full of pillow for a few moments. You can’t breathe and you fight against him, fighting against the burning delicious feeling in your lungs before stilling. He lets go, gliding his hand back down to your hip, pulling your ass further up. You turn your head to the side, taking a few deep breaths.

“Good girl,” Jake comments and that sends you over the fucking moon with glee. You’re smiling as he fucks into you even harder, his hands occasionally spanking your ass or pushing against your back. Each push of his hips makes you clench and your clit throb. You’re so close, he finds your g-spot and you practically fall apart. Whimpering and crying out, you can’t even speak as he pushes you closer.

“Fuck, gonna, oh my god, gonna come,” you start, expecting him to help you out, to slip a thumb down to your clit and make you come.

Instead he pulls out of you quickly with an echoing slap against your ass.

Your legs collapse and you’re flat against the bed, panting and looking back at Jake, wondering why he stopped.

“You may get to come with Tom, but you need to ask permission from me,” he runs a hand up your spine, lightly pressing down on the back of your neck, “and I won’t give you permission.”

“Hmmm?” You hum, feeling him nudge your thighs apart, the head of his cock pushing into you.

“With me baby girl, I wanna feel you dripping all over my cock, and the best way to do that, is to make sure you don’t come,” he explains and you cry out as he fills you completely.

“Please, fuck, let me come, please, I’ll be good, just lemme come,” you beg, feeling tears well in your eyes as his pace increases.

“No, and soon you’ll beg me to not let you come, because good girls don’t come, do you want to be a slut or a good girl?”

And you have no fucking idea how he’s so cool and collected as he fucks you into oblivion.

“Wanna be a good girl,” you choke out, tears dripping down your cheeks as you fight off your orgasm.

“Good, so you’re not going to come while I’m fucking you?”

“No, no sir, I won’t come,” you cry out.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he mutters, his hips stilling, he puts all his body weight on top of you, you can feel the cool weight of his gold chain against your hot and sweaty back and you whimper at the feeling.

He fucks into you again, quicker now, each thrust punctuated and stinging your sore ass, “I’m gonna come inside you, gonna fill you up so good, is that what you want baby girl?”

“Fuck, please, please come in me, fuck,” you beg, voice hoarse.

Tom looks on amazed, you don’t really beg him to come inside of you, it’s sort of an unwritten rule now, he just does. You love it, the feeling of being marked. Jake’s beard brushes against your neck, his lips hot and persistent, leaving mark after mark along your neck and upper back.

“Good girl,” Jake grunts, biting down on your shoulder before coming, you feel him throbbing inside of you before stilling his hips. His cock softens inside of you and Tom watches, his hand slowing on his cock before Jake pulls out, his thumb running through your folds, watching as his come leaks out of you.

“Holy fuck,” you whimper as his thumb grazes your clit.

“Look so pretty like this, think you can be a good girl and not come while I eat you out?”

Fuck.

“Please, I won’t come, promise, please sir, god, wanna feel you, please, please, please,” you’re reduced to whimpers and cries when Jake pulls your legs back up.

“All fours again baby girl, suck Tom off while I eat you out.”

Your arms are like jello but you manage to pull yourself up, watching Tom kneel on the bed in front of you.

“Tom,” you whimper as he rubbed a thumb over your cheek.

“God your pussy is so fucked out,” Jake murmurs before his mouth is all over you, his hands spreading your folds, gripping your thighs, he’s mouthing at your clit for a moment before fucking you with his tongue. He makes the filthiest depraved fucking slurping noises which makes you cry out before Tom pushes the head of his cock into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he grunts as he bucks his hips forward, forcing you to take more of him into your mouth. And you do, you take it, all of it.

It’s a push and pull of your body, you let the two men completely use you, Jake, eating you out with fucking abandon, moaning into your pussy, lightly flicking your clit, bringing you close to the edge before pulling away, his beard scratches your thighs as you tremble. Tom is fucking into your mouth more than he ever has, hand on the back of your head, grunts and moans falling from his lips as he gets closer. He comes down your throat with a grunt, whining as he pulls out of you and sees your teary eyes and wide smile. Jake gives one firm smack against each of your thighs before pulling away.

“We are so doing that again,” you comment.

Mexico, May, 2019

I miss youuuu

Jake and Tom glance at their phones in between interviewers, Jake is calm when he opens your photo in the group text, Tom however isn’t able to keep his cool as well, eyes widening as he sees the picture of you. You were decked out in black lace, your breasts pushed up and your legs spread, the black thong leaving nothing to the imagination, you were soaked as you stood in front of the mirror.

Tom coughed and crossed one leg underneath the other. Jake didn’t even blink as he sent a message.

Jake: Don’t even fucking think about touching yourself slut

The next interviewer walks in and Tom and Jake slip their phones away. Jake is a little more present in this interview, Tom’s mind is far away, thinking about what you were doing at the hotel. Wondering if you were touching yourself, wondering if you were going to send them any more pictures, or if you really wanted them to lose it, videos.

After a few more hours where there was absolutely no time between interviews, Tom and Jake were set free, sort of. They were going to a restaurant to eat with another interviewer. In the car over they both were on their phones. Reading the messages you sent.

But i’m so wet, and you’re both gonna be gone for so long, and I haven’t come in three weeks

I’ll just take a cool shower… promise I won’t touch

Next you sent a picture of yourself naked, leaning against the bathroom counter.

I hope you come back soon….

I just wanna come… please

You sent a picture with three of your fingers stuffed inside of you, your thumb nestled right up against your clit.

Jake: you’re in so much fucking trouble when we get back

Jake: poor tom is going fucking crazy, you should know better than to be a fucking tease slut

Jake: you better be ready for us when we get back

No more texts come through and Tom and Jake have a little plan for when they get back to the hotel. They expect to see you kneeling on the bed, ready to take whatever they give you. Instead, you’re cuddled up under the covers, wearing one of Tom’s t-shirts, watching TV.

“Do you enjoy being a fucking brat?” Jake asks.

You turn off the TV and sit up, pushing back the covers and smiling, “what do you mean?’

“You know what you did, teasing us, sending us pictures, got me so fucking hard during the interviews pretty girl, got so distracted,” Tom comments, toeing off his shoes as Jake sits at the end of the bed, patting his lap.

“And what do brats get?” Jake asks as you crawl over to lay on his lap, you could feel his hard cock beneath his black dress pants.

“They get, fuck, they get punished,” you answer as he pushes your shirt up, hand smoothing over your ass.

“Is that what you wanted? Did you want to get punished?”

“I just wanted to come,” you whimper as he pulls your cheeks apart, fingers sliding through your wet folds.

“Did you come?” Tom asks, watching as Jake pushes two fingers into you.

“No, I just, I just fucked myself on my fingers, but I, I couldn’t come,” you cry out as Jake’s thumb rubs your clit.

“Why’s that slut?” Jake asks, pulling his fingers out and smacking your ass.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he doesn’t let up, spanking you over and over again.

“Is that the right answer? Jake asked you a question,” Tom comments, sitting next to Jake, holding your legs down and slightly spreading them.

“I couldn’t come, because, fuck, because I knew you wouldn’t want me to sir.”

“I didn’t want you to be a whore either, but you just couldn’t help yourself huh?” Jake asks and you moan as Tom slips a finger into your pussy, slowly stroking against your g-spot while Jake spanks you.

“No, fuck, I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry,” you plead, your hair in your face, body flushed and sweaty.

“Well, since you haven’t come in so long, even when we fuck you like crazy, I think you deserve a reward,” Tom comments, adding a second finger into your dripping cunt.

“Only, fuck, only if you want,” you comment, knowing that’s what they both want to hear. They smile, Jake delivers a few more spanks to your ass as Tom fucks into your harder, your clit throbbing under his thumb.

“Course, took your punishment so well,” Jake says, feeling you tremble under his hands.

“Please, oh god, please let me come, sir, Tom, need it, need you so bad,” you cry out, feeling yourself tip over the edge. Right as you do their hands are gone, your cunt clenching and throbbing around nothing.

“What, fuck, what was that?” You cry out, your orgasm taken away right as they gave it to you.

“That, my pretty little slut, was a ruined orgasm,” Jake explains, soothing a hand down your back, “we let you come, but don’t give you the satisfaction of a full orgasm.”

“Fuck, I, god I think I like edging more,” you laugh, feeling Jake pull you up so you’re straddling his hips, absolutely soaking his black jeans.

“Yeah? Why’s that baby girl?” Jake asks, brushing hair from your face before cupping your cheek.

“Because, it feels good, and after you let me finally come it’s like the best thing in the world. But this, fuck, can we try it again?”

Jake nods, a devilish smile on his face.

“Tom’s gonna fuck you, and if you’re good and stay still I’ll rub your clit, give you a few ruins okay?”

You nod before kissing him, clutching onto his shoulders, letting his part your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as Tom undresses.

Jake’s hands are everywhere, one gripping your ass while the other runs up and down your sides, playing with your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers, making you moan into his mouth.

You feel Tom behind you, kissing along your shoulder, hands moving everywhere Jake’s aren’t.

“Ready for him?” Jake asks, hand on your neck pulling you back slightly.

“Yes, fuck me, Tom, please,” you beg and Jake laughs, he has a habit of laughing when you really start to whine and beg. This only makes you even wetter, mewling and crying for them.

They maneuver you onto your back, Tom’s hands glide over your sides, his cock sliding through your folds. Your hands are limp at your sides, the cool sheets against your sore ass making you hiss.

“Good girl,” Tom murmurs, kissing you, his lips soft as he begins to fuck into you

You moan into his mouth, whimpering as Jake lays down next to you, his lips wrapping around your nipple, teeth teasing you, hand rough and running down your stomach before his thumb comes in contact with your clit.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Tom comments as he fucks into you and there’s a ridiculous noise as his cock pushes into you deeper. Your arms and legs twitch.

“Stay still baby girl,” Jake coos against your breasts, rubbing your clit quicker.

You nod, watching Tom’s face as he fucks into you, hair sweaty, little tiny curls at the side of his face, biting his lip as his eyes scrunch up.

“Gonna come?” Tom asks, feeling you clench around him.

“Fuck, yeah, I wanna, can I come?”

“How do you wanna come baby girl?” Jake asks.

“Fuck, I, ruin it, please, wanna feel you ruin it sir,” you beg, you would much rather come but you had a feeling they’d only let you have a ruined orgasm.

“Good girl, that’s what we want to hear,” Jake praises you, “go ahead, come for us,” he flicks your clit and you’re sent over the edge, crying out Tom’s name as he pulls out of you, leaving you gasping and clenching around nothing.

“Good job,” Tom praises, watching as you pant and twitch.

“Now, we’re gonna keep giving you some ruins, until you say stop okay? Then we’ll clean up and start again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You mumble, watching as Jake kisses up your body and Tom slips into you again.

“Yeah, then you’ll get an orgasm, a real one,” Tom adds, fucking into you.

“A real one?” You ask, an excited shiver running down your spine.

“Yeah, on the plane,” Jake adds, thumb moving back to your clit, lips attached to your neck.

“But, other people will be there, Harry, and-,”

“Shhh, don’t think about that right now, think about how good this feels,” Jake murmurs against your skin.

You nod, eyes slipping shut as Tom picks up the pace. You feel yourself start to float before Jake bites down on your shoulder causing you to cry out.

There’s talk between the two of them as Tom fucks into you, you’re floating in subspace as you manage to get out that you’re close, murmured praises against hot skin.

They give you a few more ruins before Tom pulls out of you, his come hot as it splashed against the skin of your stomach, it helps bring you back to reality.

“Such a good girl for us,” Tom soothes. There are hands wiping you clean. Tom picks you up, Jake strips the sheets while Tom and you settle into the bath.

“How was that?” Tom asks, a hand cupping your pussy as you lay against his back.

“Fuck, I’m just so fucking horny, like even more than when you edge me, because I get the relief but not enough, promise you’ll let me come tomorrow?” You ask as he kisses down your neck.

“Promise.”

You fall asleep naked between two strong bodies with a promise that one of them will wake you up by eating you out. They hold true to their promise, Jake is between your thighs, his scruff burning your hot skin while his tongue laps at your clit.

“Fuck, sir, oh god,” you cry out, feeling Tom’s hands around your front, holding you down at Jake brings you right over the edge before kissing along your thighs while you recover.

“Good girl, wanna try for one more before we have to get going?” Tom asks, rubbing soothing circles into the skin on your hips.

You nod, feeling Jake’s lips kiss along your folds before there’s a harsh smack against your thigh, “use your words,” Tom demands.

“Please, please ruin it, god I need it sir, Tom, please.”

So Jake proceeds to turn you into a mess, dripping down his fingers as he fucks into you, crying against Tom’s hold as you’re pushed off the edge and then feel absolutely nothing as ruined pleasure courses through your veins.

As you got dressed for the day you realized you had run out of clean panties, mainly because Jake or Tom would rip them off the second you got back to the hotel, so you couldn’t even wash the ones you had.

Tom laughs as he wraps his arms around your waist, kissing along your shoulder, “might as well not wear any today.”

“What? No way I’ll soak through my fucking shorts.”

“So don’t wear them,” Jake shrugs, leaning against the dresser.

You laugh, leaning back into Tom, “what am I supposed to do? Go naked?”

“I wish,” Tom mumbles.

“Wear this,” Jake says, digging through your suitcase and finding a short black skirt.

“Easy access,” Tom notes and you giggle, resting your head on Tom’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble,” you mention as Tom helps you pull the skirt on before his fingers run through your folds.

“So fucking wet,” Tom grunts.

Later that day, Jake manages to finger you in the restroom at the monument, Tom smirking at the way your legs would clench together as you walked hand in hand with him, moments where your eyes would wander to the taller man as he walked slightly in front of you with Harry, talking to him about photography. It blew both of you away that Jake was always so calm and collected, his fingers still slightly wet from fucking you and then licking them clean. He would turn every so often, looking at you like he wanted to eat you whole, and you’d let him.

You could barely stand up when you all boarded the plane, you weren’t quite sure of your next location. The only thing you could think of was how they were going to let you come now.

Your mind buzzed while you sat down next to Tom, crossing your ankles and holding his hand, smiling as Jake sat down across from you.

You waited patiently, you didn’t want to come this far, with your own juices practically leaking down your thighs and not be able to come because you misbehaved. It wasn’t for a few hours into the flight, Harry was sound asleep, you were acutely aware of Tom’s hand on your thigh and Jake’s nod towards the bathroom. He gets up and you wait for a little bit, until Tom whispers into your ear to be a good girl for Jake. You get up, biting your lip and walking towards the bathroom, slipping in.

“Hi baby girl,” Jake smiles, his hands immediately on you, gripping your hips and pulling your body tight against his.

“Hi,” you smile, throwing your hands around his neck.

“You ready for a treat?” He smiles, hands rough against your hips as he pushes you against the sink.

“Please,” you whimper as he pushes your skirt up, cupping your pussy before his mouth attacks your neck, lips trailing up and down, a hot wet trail as he fucks a few fingers into you.

“So fucking wet, such a good slut for Tom and I, taking your ruins so well,” he murmurs as you clench around his fingers, “you’re gonna be so fucking tight around my cock, wet and ready for me, you wanna take my cock?”

“Please, sir, please, fuck me, need you so bad,” you whimper, leaning your head against his shoulder as he looks in the mirror at your back.

“Turn around and look at yourself in the mirror for me,” Jake says, slipping his fingers out of you before slapping your ass lightly, making you yelp into his shoulder.

You turn and hear Jake’s zipper before he’s pulling his cock out, one hand pushing up your skirt, the other running up and down your thigh before pushing into you.

As soon as he’s fully inside of you you look up, staring at wide brown eyes as his hands fix themselves on your shoulders, fucking into you.

“Gotta be quiet, don’t wanna wake the whole plane, let them know how much of a slut you are,” Jake comments, watching as you bite your lip, head dropping down as he moved quicker.

“Fuck,” you whisper as Jake grabs the back of your neck, pulling your head up so you have to look at yourself.

“Want you to watch as I fuck you, look at your face, fucking falling apart around me, huh?” Jake asks, hand still tight on your neck as the other slips down underneath your skirt to rub your clit.

“Please, sir, I need, I need to come,” you whisper, watching your eyes scrunch up, tears prickling as pleasure is sharp and clear.

“Good, you wanna come for me? Come without making a sound and waking up the rest of the plane?”

“Fuck,” you cry out as you’re pushed further towards your release.

“Shhhh,” Jake’s voice is soothing and calm before he grunts, one hand covering your mouth, the counter bruising your hips.

“Go ahead baby girl, come all over my cock,” Jake says, leaning over you, you feel the cool glide of his gold chain against your neck and you’re screaming against his hand, crying as you come, he continues to pound into you, his thumb giving your clit just the perfect amount of friction that keeps you falling over the edge.

“Fuck,” Jake mutters, watching as you spasm around him, stilling his hips before he comes deep inside you. He slowly drops his hand from your mouth, cupping your chin and forcing your head to meet his, lips filthy as they claim you, kissing you, tongue down your throat as he softens inside of you.

“Good girl, now wait here for Tom, he’ll fuck you too,” Jake says, slipping out of you, “then you’ll sit the rest of the plane ride stuffed full of our come.”

“We need to do this whole ruined orgasm thing again.”

“Most definitely baby girl.”

***

tagging fellow filthy people: @gyllenwh0re @robbinholland

#hahahah fuck me #like #tom holland #jake gyllenhaal #tom holland smut #jake gyllenhaal smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland reader insert #tom holland x reader smut #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x reader smut #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #ill see u all in hell

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embeanwrites · 4 years

Text

Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Chapter 15

Masterlist

Connor had driven me home after we finished the movie and now, I was laying in bed looking at my phone. I decided to send Gavin a text before heading to bed.

How’s burning the midnight oil with Nines?

lame, i wish i was with my cats

Me too lol

how was dinner

Pretty good, we watched Into the Spider-Verse after. Connor had never seen it!

i haven’t either

You’re joking, right? Is this the Jameson and Ginger Ale thing again?

i barely have time for new movies, let alone old ones

We’re watching it ASAP

lol ok pipsqueak

hey i have bad news

Damn, you couldn’t secure a place for the Dead Mom Society to meet? Or is the bakery out of chocolate chip cookies?

no i have to work through lunch on monday

What are you going to have for lunch then?

idk a pb&j from the breakroom

Would it ruin your “working through lunch” if I brought you lunch and we eat it in the breakroom?

nines wont be too happy

Tell him it’s revenge for lying and setting us up!

ok ill work on him and let u know

Awesome! Good luck saving the city tonight, Batman!

ur the biggest nerd ive ever met

yet for some reason i like u

Awwwwww you like me

…hm

Yeah, yeah I like you too

I gotta go to bed, talk to you later

Sleep tight, pipsqueak

I smiled at the screen for a moment, even if that nickname was rude and had started as an insult, it was his thing for me now. I'm an adult woman. A nickname shouldn't make me feel this giddy, but here I am, grinning at a now black phone screen, thinking about how he only grins and never smiles and how handsome it is when half his face scrunches up to accommodate those grins. I wonder if he's grinning now, a small one at his desk, maybe into a cup of coffee to hide it while he returns to his case files. I hope he's grinning, feeling like a stupid teenager. I hope he likes me as much as I'm starting to like him. I fell asleep soon after, thinking of what I should bring him for lunch, trying to guess what would surprise him most without being too flashy, what I could do to make him grin for me again.

I woke up the next morning around 10 am, and laid in bed for a moment questioning how necessary it was for me to get out of this nice warm cocoon of blankets, with the sunlight streaming in gently just out of my eyes, and sighed loudly when I remembered that it was indeed necessary that I get out of bed, as Tina would be here to pick me up at 11:30. I kicked the covers off, grabbing my phone off the charger and moving to sit on the edge of the bed to check it before truly getting up. The first notification was a text from Gavin, sent around 5 a.m.

u can come on monday probs around 11 bring whatever im not picky

Will do, Batman!

I turned on a throwback playlist while I got ready, a quick shower where I debated too long over shaving my legs before I actually did so, thinking about how Tina might have me try on a suit or dress for the wedding. I hadn't decided what I wanted to go for yet, hence the indecisiveness with the razor. Eventually I bit the bullet and just took the extra five minutes to shave just to the tops of my knees, not bothering with my thighs as I highly doubted I'd be wearing a mini dress to a formal event, though it might be fun to see how Gavin would react to more revealing clothes. I filed the thought away while I got out of the shower, toweling off and tying the towel around my hair and brushing my teeth. By the time I had thrown on a pair of well loved jeans and a plain tee, Tina was calling me, I answered and before I could even put the phone to my ear, I could hear music blaring in the background, and then Tina screamed "HERE BITCH!" and promptly hung up. I pocketed the phone, and hurried looking for my Birkenstocks, of course they weren't by the door, they were in front of the fridge, where I had stopped last night upon arriving home to grab some food before heading to bed. I slid the sandals on, stopping for a moment to grab two packets of the applesauce squeezies for a quick breakfast.

By the time I got to the car, Tina was listening to a different song, but the volume was the same, I'm sure my poor neighbors who were trying to sleep in on a Sunday morning were not very pleased. I opened the door and slid in, Tina turned the volume down. What a shame, she had excellent taste in music, ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ by Arctic Monkeys isn't a song you just turn down!

"Took you long enough!" She laughed, a smile stretching across her face.

"Shut up I couldn't find my shoes!" I shouted, holding up my feet and wiggling my toes in the most comfortable pair of shoes ever made. She looked at my feet and raised her eyebrows, snorting.

"Jesus Christ I’m a lesbian and I still wouldn’t wear those ugly ass shoes, (Y/n)!” I gasped and smacked her arm.

“You’re disrespecting your culture!” I shouted, as the car silently started and began to pull out into the street, heading towards the dress store. Tina just giggled and I huffed.

“For that, I’m not giving you the applesauce I brought for you.” I tore open the packets, double fisting them and squeezing all their contents into my mouth. Tina howled with laughter

“What are you, fucking two years old! I cannot believe you!”

“You’re just jealous that you aren’t as stylish as me and now I’ve had a healthy breakfast which I assume you didn’t as you were at the station all night. I was going to be a good, kind, maid of honor and offer you sustenance but if you disrespect the birks, you disrespect me.” I joked, crossing my arms and looking out the windshield past her.

“Oh my god my maid of honor is two years old!!”

“Hey! That’s uncalled for, I’m not a toddler, if anything I’m like a seven year old, I make sense but just barely.” I joked. She laughed and nodded.

“Still can’t buy booze.”

“That’s why there are other best people who are of age who can.”

There was a natural pause in the conversation, the song changed and we both listened for a moment before Tina turned to me, a devilish grin on her face making me nervous.

“What?”

“So, I noticed something strange at work last night.”

“Yeah, what did you notice?” I laughed.

“A certain someone kept texting on their phone and smiling AND Nines wasn’t giving them a hard time for being on their phone.” She smirked. “I thought the date went bad?”

“How do you even know it was me, future Detective Chen?”

“Well, I may have glanced over his shoulder at some point and saw your name.” I laughed.

“Tina! I was going to tell you. You didn’t have to spy on Gavin!” She laughed.

“It was the heat of the moment. I promise the next time I spy on him I won’t tell you.” I shoved her shoulder and we both laughed.

“Man, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” The automatic car pulled into the bridal shop and we both squealed, jumping out of the car and practically running inside.

"I win." Tina said smugly as she crossed the threshold of the store before me.

"Hey who's the kid now!"

Time went by fast in the shop, the consultants immediately brought us back to a sitting area, offering us complimentary champagne that we happily took. Our consultant, a happy-go-lucky android named Lance, brought out a selection of pantsuits for Tina to try, and offered excellent counsel on all of Tina's concerns. She wanted something elegant and more masculine. She tried a couple things before deciding pinstripe made her feel like a mobster and that white was definitely not her color. Lance was always smiling and laughing with them, not minding at all when they laughed at one of the options or didn't like what he had brought for her. He was very efficient in bringing options, and after three 'no's' he brought out a selection of black jackets and pants, assisting her in a pair of slim fit high waisted slacks with a center vertical pleat to help her look taller, a simple white dress shirt with a short popped collar, and a sleek black satin jacket, with a black lining. The fabric shone nicely in the light, a little bit of a sparkle in the thread. She looked gorgeous, and I could tell she felt it too, the way her eyes shone a bit, and her cheeks flushed, though she would probably blame that on the champagne if I brought it up later.

“You should try on some bridesmaids’ dresses. I’ve got my suit and now I want to judge others!” Tina plopped down on the couch next to me and took my champagne from me.

"You haven't even decided on the style you want! Are you matching both bridal parties? Doesn't Valerie have a say in it then!" I squawked, reaching for the champagne flute she'd stolen from me.

"We actually have talked about it, and we decided that as long as everyone has blush pink or yellow in their outfit, whatever style they want is best. It eliminates the drama and keeps our wedding day happy." Tina said, tipping her head back and downing my champagne in one big gulp. I smacked her arm.

"Ah, I'd be happy to help you find a dress Miss. (L/N)." Lance offered, moving to sit next to me and offered out his hand, images of dresses popping up on his hand.

"What are you thinking Miss (L/N)? Would you prefer the blush tone or yellow?" Lance asked, looking at my face instead of his hand.

"Ah, blush please." I requested.

"Not a problem, it's a popular color so we have a lot of options. Now, what style cut do you like?" I looked at him like a fish out of water.

"I'm not sure, what do you think would look best, Lance?" He smiled, before pulling up a couple of images on his hand and explaining the styles and what design choices would flatter my features. I nodded, and he guided me back to the dressing room.

"I'm going to run and grab some of the options we discussed Miss. (L/N)." He told me, before shutting the door. He knocked when he returned about five minutes later, hanging six dresses on the wall for me. "When you're ready, join us in the showing room, and we can adjust the fit and see what the bride thinks." He told me. I shouted 'Thanks!' through the door before turning to decide which dress I wanted to try first.

“Wow.” I murmured looking at myself in the mirror. From the tag on the dress I learned it’s a ‘long chiffon dress with halter neckline.’ I didn’t really understand what any of those words meant, but this dress was…amazing. It made me feel like a goddamn princess.

“What’s taking so long!” I heard Tina shout.

“Give me a minute, you drunk!” I walked out of the dressing room, towards where Tina was sitting.

“Holy shit.” I laughed and spun around.

“It’s pretty good, right?” She got up and walked towards me.

“You’re getting this one. No question. I’m not letting you leave without it!”

“Are you sure? I can try a light-yellow dress if you want.”

“No, this one is perfect.” She smashed her cheek on mine and we both looked at ourselves in the mirror. I was smiling so wide my face was starting to hurt. She quickly grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of us, and I laughed.

“Tina!”

“What! I want to remember this moment.” She kissed my cheek. “I can’t wait to come back here with you when Gavin proposes.” She teased, causing you to laugh.

“We’ve gone on one date! How much champagne have you had?” She shook her head.

“Just three glasses, I’m drunk on happiness! Come on, change back and buy that dress!” I laughed and walked back to the changing room. I picked up my phone and saw Tina had sent me the picture already. Smiling, I sent the picture to my dad.

Got my dress for the wedding!

Beautiful kiddo!

#gavin reed x reader #gavin reed #detroit become human #tina chen #dbh #hank anderson #x reader

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dinoyoongi · 5 years

Text

Romance Is Dead

SYNOPSIS: You try to surprise Yoongi with a night full of romance but he manages to ruin all of your plans.

PAIRING: Yoongi x You

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNINGS: Language, *Implied* smut

WORD COUNT: 4311

_________________________________

Yoongi: Practice ending in twenty. I'll be over after. Do you want me to bring anything?

You: Just yourself. ❤️

You drop your phone onto the counter, doing a quick study of the dining room. Plates, cutlery – check. Ambient lighting, candles – check. Dinner that you spent a whopping five hours slaving over – check. You had gone over this checklist in your head about six times now but it didn't seem enough. Everything needed to be absolutely perfect. It wasn't an anniversary or birthday, although you know Yoongi might momentarily suspect so when he walks in and sees your usual cluttered apartment so romantically decorated. Perhaps it was the marathons of dramas you've been binging lately or perhaps you were just hit with the lovebug, but you craved romance.

It wasn't that your relationship with Yoongi wasn't great. It definitely was. Your personalities fit together like a glove, you got along with each others friends and families, you made each other happy. You were … comfortable. And while the two of you had some memorably heated moments, it's been a long time since you felt that spark of excitement in your relationship. You didn't blame Yoongi though. Being one out of seven members of the biggest music group in the world at the moment, his mind was always preoccupied – recording songs, producing songs, learning choreography, filming videos and comeback appearances, putting on concerts, etc. You didn't begrudge him his job and you certainly didn't expect him to have the energy to initiate anything extra into your relationship.

So that's why you're going to do it instead. Tonight.

You have a three-part plan of action. First? Dinner. You've spent the majority of the week watching YouTube videos and cooking programs on cable, looking up and purchasing the necessary ingredients and utensils to make the greatest plate of carbonara that Yoongi has ever tasted. Second? A romantic movie. You've converted your living room into the ultimate cuddle area. Both couches have been rearranged and pushed against the wall. You've lined the width of your floor with pillows and blankets and bowls of snacks that you know he enjoys. You even rented a new release that you've heard is super romantic – The Sun Is Also a Star. And third? Well, after the cuddle session, being pressed up against Yoongi for so long, you know your body and you know what it will be craving. That's why you've saved and used two of your paychecks to purchase the most expensive, scandalous yet sexy black lace lingerie you could find.

You were definitely getting lucky tonight.

After making sure everything was in place in the dining room, living room and bedroom, you go to the mirror to confirm you still look as good now as you did an hour ago when you first got ready. You've worked hard on your hair and makeup and put legitimate effort into your outfit – a dark yellow sundress with a flowing, loose black cardigan. The lingerie feels uncomfortable under your clothes but at the same time you feel a boost of confidence knowing you're wearing such sexy undergarments. You can't wait for Yoongi to see them.

There's a beeping on the other side of your door and your heart immediately skips. Yoongi is here. Typing in the passcode to your apartment. It's showtime.

“Y/N, why is it so dark in here?” you hear your boyfriend grumble softly, kicking his shoes off at the front door. You whirl around the corner, meeting him at the entrance of the dining room. You take satisfaction in watching his eyes widen, moving up and down your body before settling on your face. “Why are you so dressed up? Did I forget plans or something?”

You giggle nervously. “No, I just felt like getting dolled up.”

You wait with bated breath for him to compliment you. Tell you that you look beautiful, that you look nice, that your hair looks shiny or your skin looks dewy. Something, anything. Instead, he shuffles past you into the dining room, tossing a plastic bag onto the table. You swallow down the hurt. It's not in his nature to be affectionate but you're determined to have him swooning over you by the end of the night.

“I was craving some Chinese so I got us a few dishes. What do you want?” he asks, popping open boxes. You frown, watching as he moves away some of the fine China you've set out to spread his takeout containers.

“Yoongi, I told you not to bring anything. I made us dinner,” you say, motioning toward the big bowl of pasta and plate of steaming bread sticks in the center of the table. His eyes move over the carbonara before he looks down at his sweet and sour chicken.

“I just had pasta yesterday. Can you put it in the fridge? I'll take some back to the dorms to eat tomorrow.”

Part 1 – officially crashed and burned. You stare at him for a few hard seconds, mentally wishing that the damn Chinese food would be spoiled so he wouldn't touch it. But from the way he happily plops himself down onto one of the chairs, yanks apart his disposable chopsticks and digs in like it's the best food he's ever had in his life, you give up hope. Fixing yourself a small portion of pasta, you sit across from him, stealing quick glances at his plate. The Chinese does look delicious but what romantic dinner has ever been served with sweet and sour chicken? He might not be eating the food you cooked, but you can still enjoy the romantic atmosphere together.

Almost as soon as you sit down, Yoongi hops up off of his seat, jogging over to the switch panel and flipping them all on. The sudden brightness hits you like a punch to the gut and you wince, dropping your fork. You've suddenly lost your appetite. Yoongi sighs in satisfaction as he sits back down and without a word, dives back into his food.

Okay. That's okay. It was just a few candles. This night is not ruined. You may not have gotten him with the food, but you can hook him in with the romantic movie and cuddles, you're sure of it. After the two of you finish your meal, you move to the living room. You notice Yoongi is frowning as he takes in the layout.

“What's going on with the couches?”

You flash him a grin, nodding toward the floor. “I thought we could stretch out and get comfortable on the floor while we watch a movie.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “I've just finished four hours of practice. My back is killing me and you want to lay on the floor?”

A bubble of annoyance rises up. Why is he fighting you on everything? “I put like four layers of blankets and pillows down, Yoongi. You won't feel the floor, trust me.”

With a disgruntled huff of acceptance, he throws himself down ungracefully. You mentally count to ten. He's either going to get some love or get some ass-kicking tonight and right now, you're not sure which one. After pressing play on the blu-ray machine, you lay down next to Yoongi. You half expect him to throw another wrench in your plan by pushing you away but he's full of surprises, fingers gripping you around the waist and tugging you against him.

You sigh happily. Maybe there's hope for the night after all.

“Oh! I've seen this movie already.”

Okay, maybe not.

You groan loudly, tilting your chin to stare at your boyfriend in disbelief. He frowns at you. “Why are you looking at me like that? My laptop died on the flight home last week so I watched this film to pass the time. It's not that good.”

“Why would you watch a romance movie by yourself?” you ask, restraining yourself from using the vicious tone that waits dormant at the base of your throat.

“I didn't watch it alone. Jin watched it with me.” Oh my god. Jin was getting more romance out of your boyfriend than you were? Yoongi suddenly emits a gasp, finger pointing at the television screen where he has pulled up the On Demand menu. “Detective Pikachu is already out on digital? I'm renting this one!”

You're wearing a dress and expensive lingerie for … Pokemon? You sit up abruptly, moving your bewildered gaze to your boyfriend. You didn't expect him to initiate the romance, no, but you expected him to be smart enough to catch on that you were. A candlelit dinner with Italian food? A romantic movie and your girlfriend dressed to the nines in her own apartment for no reason? Have you always been dating the largest idiot in the world or is this a new development?

Yoongi glances up at you, meeting your furious stare. His eyes shift down to your choice of clothing and you think maybe – just maybe – for one moment, he's going to use that creative brain of his and put everything together.

“You and Pikachu kind of match right now,” he chuckles, pointing to the red blush on your cheeks and the yellow of your dress. “Y/N, I choose you!”

“Oh my god,” you mouth silently, slumping to the floor next to him. You watch in stupid amazement as he turns up the volume of the television and throws the remote next to him, another satisfied smile on his face. Seeing the bowls of snacks lined up, he grabs a few and sets them down in front of him. Plucking a strawberry from a bowl, you can't help but feel defeated when he tosses the entire thing into his mouth in one go. You had plans for those strawberries. You had daydreams and visions of seductively biting an end off, of slowly and sexily crawling over to him and gently feeding him the rest. It was then that he would toss you over his shoulder, take you to your room and toss you onto the bed. It was then that he would find the lingerie.

Part two of the plan? Obliterated.

Despite actually having a genuine love for Pokemon and a desire to see Detective Pikachu, you begin to get restless about forty minutes into the film. Yoongi is engrossed, eyes glued to the screen as he blindly reaches for the snack bowls and throws handfuls of whatever he can reach into his mouth. Instead of watching the movie, you've been imagining new scenarios that involve getting Yoongi into the bedroom. Okay, the scenarios went a little beyond just getting him into the bedroom. All of your hard thinking has left you anxious, the lingerie suddenly feeling suffocating. This needs to happen. Now.

“Yoongi,” you whine, gripping his upper arm. He hums in response. “Can we finish watching this tomorrow?”

He frowns. “We're more than halfway through. Why would we stop?”

“I want to go to bed.”

His eyebrows lift questioningly. “So go lay down. I'll be in whenever the movie is finished. I don't think there's too much left.”

Wow. He really is dumb. Yoongi has been your first relationship so you weren't sure – does every woman have to work this hard to get some from their man or is it just you? You decide to stop playing around. He's obviously incapable of grasping any of your attempts to be sexy and coy.

“No, Yoongi. I don't want to go to sleep. I want to go to bed. With you.”

That get his attention. His head snaps over in your direction so quickly that worry he might have given himself whiplash. There's a faint dusting of pink tinging his cheeks and you giggle inwardly, relieved that you've managed to crack whatever stone wall he's had up all night. It's not as if the two of you haven't had sex before – oh, definitely not. You've been together for years and have done it many, many times. You have never been so straightforward with him about it, though. Feeling bold by how flustered he is, you reach over him for the remote, wordlessly turning the television off before lifting yourself to your feet. He watches you closely, accepting the hand you offer to help him off of the ground. When you're both standing, you take advantage of your grip on his fingers and lead him to your bedroom.

This is it – the grand finale. There's absolutely no chance of ruining this. Yoongi is a hot-blooded man who has the same cravings and needs as every other living, breathing male in this world.

You push him gently onto your bed. He sits on the edge, resting back on his elbows. He watches you intently. His heavy, hooded gaze is like electricity, filling you with jolts of desire and contentedness. This is what you wanted. This is the feeling, the excitement, that you've been craving. Leaning down into him, placing your palms next to his elbows, you catch his lips with yours. It starts off chaste, pulling away every few seconds for quick, little pecks. But after a few seconds, the aching between your legs begins to intensify and you decide that you're done with being soft. The kiss deepens, a moan vibrating from Yoongi's chest as you slide your tongue against his. You feel his hands grip your waist, massaging the skin of your hips through the fabric of your dress before his fingers start to dance downward. Pulling away breathlessly, you grin down at him.

Your cardigan goes first, tossing it haphazardly somewhere in the corner of your room. You make of slow show of unbuttoning the straps of your dress, keeping eye contact, doing your best to be the most seductive woman Yoongi has ever met. You know that you weren't his first, or his second or even his third. But you want to be the one who makes him forget about everyone that came before you. Your dress drops to your feet. You feel triumphant when his eyes widen, moving slowly down your body as if he was taking in every single detail. You watch as the corners of his lips turn upward. You close your eyes. This is the part where he completely ravishes you.

He laughs.

He laughs hard.

It's like a balloon pops and you start to deflate, your eyes snapping open in hurt and surprise. Yoongi lays back on the bed, arms wrapped around his stomach as if the sight of you in lingerie is so funny that it causes him pain. You look down at yourself, at the swell of your breasts encased with satin, lace and ribbons. Was it that funny? Did he not find you beautiful enough to pull something like this off?

You watch as Yoongi continues to laugh, absorbed in his own amusement. The sound of his guffaws are like punches to the gut, over and over and over again. Though you've never voiced it out loud, you've always felt a touch of insecurity in your relationship. He was Min Yoongi. He was Suga. He should have supermodels or equally beautiful idol girls standing beside him. Despite that, he always had a way of making you feel pretty, like you had something that no other girl in the world had.

But now? Now you question everything. Would he laugh at a supermodel if she stood here in lingerie? Would he laugh at any of his frustratingly beautiful ex-girlfriends?

Feeling like he has maxed out your hurt tolerance, you shamefully retreat into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind you. Your first order of business was getting out of the frilly contraption, the complete waste of two paychecks. The second was wiping every bit of product from your face. If he didn't think you were beautiful, why should you even try?

Making quick work of the lingerie, you whip it into the corner, wondering what the most effective way to burn it would be. You change into a normal pair of panties and toss on an old, baggy BTS concert tee that you use for pajamas. It isn't until you're washing your face that you realize you're crying.

There's a timid knock on the door. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

You ignore him, the sound of his voice propelling you to scrub your face even harder. When you pull the cloth away and look up into the mirror, you wince at your own reflection. Wet and puffy eyes with skin tinged red from scrubbing it nearly raw. It only makes you feel uglier and you can't help the cry that slips out.

There's another knock on the door, quicker this time. When you still don't answer, he tries the doorknob to no avail. “Y/N, are you crying? Open the door for me.”

You contemplate spending the night in the bathroom. The tub is nice and spacious. There's a pile of clean towels on top of the hamper than you could use for blankets, padding and pillows. You already ate so you won't get hungry. This could work – you could stay here until Yoongi has to leave for his schedules tomorrow morning.

“Are you really not going to open the door?” Yoongi demands, the knocks turning into pounds with his fists. “I'll just kick the door in. You know I can.”

You huff in annoyance. There goes your plans for a sleepover in the bathroom. Others might think Yoongi is bluffing but you know what he's capable of doing and you know he won't mind ruining your door if it inconveniences him too much. You exhale deeply before flipping the lights off and throwing the door open, studiously ignoring your boyfriend who has to jump out of your way as you storm past him. You can feel him following close behind as you hastily retreat to the living room, throwing yourself down in the middle of the blankets. You turn your back to him, tucking the thickest blanket up under your chin. You hear Yoongi sigh from behind you.

“Are you that angry with me? I'm sorry that I laughed,” he apologizes. You continue to ignore him, eyes blurred with tears as they fixate on the fibers of your blanket. He groans in frustration, reaching out to grip your shoulder. As much resistance as you put forth, he still manages to twist you to face him. When he sees your face full of tears, he drops his grip in surprise. “Jagiya, what is this?”

“Jagiya, what is this?” you mock him in disbelief. You can't take it anymore. Seething, you sit up, wiping your eyes before fixing your glare on him. “Your girlfriend is absolutely and understandably fucking devastated because she not only worked SO hard to plan a perfect, romantic night with her boyfriend – which he ruined every fucking chance that he got, I might add – but when she tried to surprise him by attempting to spice things up in the bedroom with really fucking expensive lingerie, he laughs in her face! I wanted to look and feel sexy for you, Yoongi, and you laughed at me. Hard. So yes, I am that angry with you.”

You throw yourself down again, this time pulling the blanket over your head. Yoongi sighs heavily. “Jagiya, talk to me.”

“Go home, Yoongi. I don't want to talk to you anymore tonight.”

Exploding on him released a lot of your anger but now you just feel sad. Every time your head replays the image of him rolling across the bed in laughter at your expanse, your chest throbs and a fresh round of tears build behind your eyes. You feel Yoongi plop down beside you, arm reaching around your shoulders to turn you once again. You throw an elbow to dodge his attempt. “I'm not going home. We're going to talk about this. If you insist on sleeping here tonight, I'm going to sleep right here next to you whether you like it or not.”

“Do whatever you want. I'm not the one who will have a stiff back at dance practice tomorrow.”

“I thought you said you put enough layers of blankets down that I won't feel it?” he jokes. You decide to ignore him. He sighs heavily again. The blankets shift and you feel his head rest against the middle of your back. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And I didn't mean to ruin everything you planned – you should have told me we were going to be romantic tonight.”

You scoff. “I shouldn't have to tell you that we're going to be romantic. Romance isn't something you plan, it's something you feel.”

“Well then, what did you plan for if not romance?”

He's got you there. You knew Yoongi wasn't the most romantic man in the world but you still tried to force it on him. Maybe this is your karma. Maybe this is a wake-up call. If he doesn't feel any kind of romance for you … why are you still together?

“Yoongi,” you croak, blinking away more tears. “I want to ask you a question and I want you to be completely honest with me – do you still love me?”

His head pops up from the floor. Not even a full five seconds pass by before he's forcefully gripping you around your shoulders, pinning you flat against the floor as he hovers above you. His eyes pierce you with the most intense gaze you've ever received from him. “I can't believe you even have to ask me that.”

He seems almost angry. “What am I supposed to think? Okay, maybe I planned for romance, but did you have to brush off every single thing I tried to do with you tonight? It just seems like you're not that interested anymore.��

He groans, moving into a sitting position. His hand rubs down his face, a habit of his that you know usually comes out when he's frustrated. “I'm interested in you. I love you. I brushed off everything you planned because to be honest, that's not us. That's not who you and I are, it's not our relationship.”

You frown. “But that doesn't-”

“You love Chinese take-out, you love Pokemon and you've mentioned many times how ridiculously silly and overpriced you think fancy lingerie is. Do you think romance is defined by a certain meal, genre of movie or undergarments? If you ask me, we would have had a perfectly romantic night without all of your planning.”

He renders you speechless because – holy crap – he's actually right. Okay, maybe the two of you have your lazy moments but when have you ever been unhappy in your relationship with Yoongi? He knows you. He knows what you like. He brought over Chinese and rented Detective Pikachu for you. In a weird, comfortable way … it's your own Yoongi kind of romance.

With a dramatic sigh, you turn towards him, scooting close. With his soft cat-like eyes, he gives you a gentle smile and you nearly swoon on the spot. “You're right. I'm sorry for being so cheesy tonight. I think all of those dramas I've been watching lately have gone to my head.”

He laughs, reaching out to pull you against him. “It wasn't a total waste. I really am going to tear that carbonara up tomorrow.”

You giggle in agreement, resting your head against his chest. Your eyes close in satisfaction of being so close and so relaxed with him after a night of pushing him away with stupid expectations. Although you feel a million times better, there's something that still causes your chest to ache when you think about it. “Yoongi? I know that you laughed at the lingerie because you thought I was joking but … I mean, you laughed really hard. Did I look that ridiculous? I didn't look … good?”

He laughs again and you pull back to punch him. Still chuckling, his large fingers envelope your fist, pushing it down. “Jagiya, stop fishing for compliments.”

“I'm not fishing for compliments,” you argue defiantly. “A girl genuinely tries to be sexy for her boyfriend and he laughs at her? That's enough to make her feel ugly. I just want you to confirm whether or not you think I'm ugly.”

“It's like I said before – that lingerie was not you. It didn't suit you. Of course you looked gorgeous and tempting. However-” he pauses, reaching down under the blanket. You gasp when his hand grips your ass, moving you impossibly closer until even a feather couldn't come between your bodies. “This is what I find sexiest. Just you. No fancy underwear. Well … no underwear at all, really, if you're giving me the choice.”

You slap him playfully, not bothering to fight the stupid grin on your face. He buries his face in your neck. You can feel his smile against your skin.

“We should finish what we started earlier,” he whispers, his lips peppering soft kisses along your collarbone, his fingers dancing along the waistband of your panties. You hum in pleasure, craning your neck to give him better access. An embarrassing moan escapes you when he sucks the skin a bit harder.

“Detective Pikachu? Sure, I'll grab the remote,” you joke, twisting as if you're going to move away. He grunts, pulling on your waist until you're straddling his hips. You lean down, ghosting your lips against his.

“This romantic enough for you?” he asks, his mouth moving softly against yours. You narrow your eyes to glare at him.

“Yoongi, shut up,” you mutter as you throw the blanket over your heads and lean back down to thoroughly ravish him this time. Min Yoongi would be doing a lot of swooning tonight.

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