#more phos content coming soon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

syuga-s · 12 days

Text

who do you blame?

w.c. 11.9k pairing. Yoongi x fem!reader, Taehyung x fem!reader genre. hello again ANGST, slight smut, romance a/n. NSFW MDNI !!! curse words, alcohol, sexual content (just fingering this time),, i may or may not have a second part to this fic 😼 ENJOY pookies <3

Don’t know if I can call it insomnia if I literally sleep at this hour all the time.

I want to dye my hair black again.

But this restlessness feels different.

Maybe that third cup of coffee’s doing its thing.

I was so close to having a panic attack; I did cry, though. And I still want to for a variety of reasons.

I’ve been thinking about a lot of things this week. I really want to see Yoongi like, right now. That’s how I know I’m not doing well.

Lately, I’ve been pondering the idea of resentment and how it means that envy is the emotion you’re feeling. At first, I dismissed it because how do you go from one emotion to a completely different one? But hell maybe they’re right.

I may envy people and their ability to forget how someone else made them feel. Or how they’re able to just overlook someone’s actions. Because I can’t do that. I take everything to heart.

How can you not when those actions were directed at you? Even though I’m used to excusing them and saying, “maybe they’re going through something big, and I just got the short end of the stick,” “maybe they didn’t actually mean it,” or the great, “maybe you’re not the only one that they treated like that, don’t feel so special.”

Alright, but why does it have to happen? Is it that tough to be considerate of someone’s feelings?

Good thing I haven’t texted Yoongi. I’m pretty sure I’m having a weak moment.

Do I want to keep up with that mess? Because that’s what it is.

I just can’t stop thinking about him. I think I miss him. But I refuse to be the one that reaches out for him this time. I’m still pondering if I genuinely miss him or if I’m just fucking lonely again.

Pretty sure it’s the second one.

At the same time, I wish he would grow up more and be ready for something serious.

“Sooooo… I dyed my hair again last night,” you confessed to Gemma on the phone. She was on her way to your house to pick you up because tonight you two were attending a concert.

Your best friend sighed, and you could practically imagine them rolling their eyes. “What color is it this time?” Gemma sounded exasperated, but she wasn’t; it didn’t even surprise her anymore. All her concerns were how you managed to not fry your hair whenever you wanted another makeover.

“I guess it looks kind of black?” You muttered and pressed your lips while you waited for your friend to say something.

“UGH, I can’t wait to see you!,” “you better be ready too because I’m hungry, and you know our pho place closes early!”

“I know, I know. Surprisingly, I AM ready; I’m just looking for my keys.”

This was your and Gemma’s ritual almost every Friday or Saturday night, depending on your plans. Tonight, it was Friday, and you had your usual king size pho, talking about work, your hair on this occasion, and most importantly, the band you were going to watch in a few hours.

You forgot to mention how you’ve been feeling about Yoongi. You thought that conversation could be saved for another time.

As soon as you arrived at the venue, the band came out.

It was one of these L.A. indie bands that both of you discovered this same year. Whenever Gemma was over at your place, you always ended up watching their music videos, fawning over the vocalist. So, when you found out they were doing a concert soon, you knew you had to be there.

It lasted around an hour, which was a little underwhelming compared to the other concerts you’ve attended. Still, all was forgotten because that damn vocalist was as dreamy as you imagined.

When the concert ended, Gemma and you found yourselves a table to keep talking over drinks. You didn’t count on Sam, one of your other friends, calling and telling you she was coming over.

You didn’t usually mixed your plans, but it felt kind of inevitable tonight.

You also thought the place felt kind of dead and guessed it wouldn’t hurt to have more people with you.

Sam arrived with her brother’s girlfriend. Before anything else could be said, they both said, “This place is dead.”

“What were you doing in here?”

You laughed at the confused expression your friend had on her face. She knew you were at a concert, but you then explained you were just sitting and drinking, nothing special.

“We should go somewhere else! What do you say about going downtown?” The brother’s girlfriend addressed you.

You pursed your lips and turned to look at Gemma to ask her what she wanted to do. “I’m staying over with you, so I’m giving you the privilege of deciding.” You smiled at your friend and thought about it. You wanted to keep drinking; it was barely 11 p.m.

You turned to Sam to tell her it was okay, but before you opened your mouth, she tried to convince you, “Come on, let’s just go for a while; Hoseok’s over there with some friends!”

Hoseok is Sam’s brother.

Hoseok is Yoongi’s best friend.

It’s pretty evident that wherever Hoseok was, Yoongi was there too.

Fuck, did I manifest this?

“Let’s go then.”

What a miracle, what a coincidence.

A kiss on the cheek. All kind. Warm greetings—the kind that makes you want to kill whoever invented manners. You see each other from time to time, often at random places and gatherings like tonight.

You haven’t seen Yoongi in over ten months.

You haven’t seen him since that last date you had. If you can call it that.

Last year, life was kicking your ass, and Yoongi was everything you had. You truly needed someone, and he stayed with you throughout the messiest months of your life. He was your everything.

You were perfectly aware he was never going to be serious about you. He’s been in your life for eight years, and both of you have left the other countless times before. You two were just a bad joke. You never understood why he always insisted on coming back to your life just for him to treat you like always. Never something special. Never been the exception, always the rule.

But for those seven months, he acted like the person you always wanted him to be. You knew you were both a joke, but you always liked what “us” meant with him.

Last Christmas was the first time you spent a holiday together. It felt so important to you back then as if life was finally going your way.

You never expected what he had to say to you right on that day.

“First of all, Merry Christmas, honey”. He smiled as he looked at you. “You know I’ll always wish for you and your family to be healthy. I know this is important to you, but I’m sure you can rest a bit about that matter from now on.”

“I’m really happy you’re spending these days with me. You know I’m not fond of the holidays, but I want you to know this feels important to me.”

“I genuinely, truly, really want to keep you with me and for us to go out as much as we can, if you want to, of course. Because to be honest, if it were up to me, we would be doing a bunch of stuff together all the time, but it’s not just a matter of me wanting, so I hope you’d like that too.”

With his words, you went through all the emotions known to mankind. It’s been the first time you’ve heard something like that coming from him, and you felt strange. Thinking how you may have wanted that for years, now when it’s actually happening, you feel so disconnected from yourself, you start to think, “What can he possibly like in me? I’ve only shown him chaos these past months.”

But as soon as that thought crossed your mind, your heart told you, “Yet, he’s still here.”

He made you feel safe, so you committed to being the best version of yourself once again. After all you’ve been through, he’s never stopped being so good and patient with you.

He’s always going to have a piece of your heart.

Then came the inevitable change of heart one of you had every time.

This time, it happened to him. Of course.

You were supposed to go out one night, but you ended up going home in the middle of the “date.”

It’s like you weren’t talking to Yoongi anymore. He was acting cold, apathetic, indifferent, you name it.

You felt awful on your way home. You didn’t even want to think about the reason for his attitude towards you.

You wanted to feel hopeful, happy, and even in love, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. You wanted to trust in what Yoongi had told you just a few weeks ago. Maybe it was just something you wanted to hear, but you didn’t catch on to the intentions behind his words.

I actually fell for it this time.

There have been multiple times when you told yourself there was no future for you two. Why do you keep staying? It just makes you feel like shit in the end.

I just keep building unrealistic expectations, as if there was actually someone who could save me from my own problems1.

This time, you were hoping he was tired of you and would finally choose not to be with you anymore.

Farewell comes. Once again, you bury memories deep in the deepest ocean. Then it comes back and floats up.

There were eight people sitting close together at a little round table, and to your luck, you ended up facing Yoongi.

Beer never stopped coming to your table.

You had an impressive way of acting as if everything was normal. You were always like this. Of course, Yoongi made you angry, but you’ve never resented him for something. Acting full of hostility in front of both of your friends would never be one of your goals.

On some other occasion, maybe you would’ve ignored him and his glances, but you can’t deny that you’ve wanted to see and talk to him for the past few weeks.

Your friends weren’t fond of your “relationship,” yet they were always curious about how you two treated each other whenever you saw each other after a while. Everyone always knew when you two were together and how many months you had spent without talking.

You can’t tell if that’s good or not, but everyone knew it was just a matter of time before you started seeing each other again.

Tonight was going well. You haven’t seen Hoseok or the other guys in a while. Aside from whatever you had with Yoongi, they were your friends, too. Not too long ago, you always went out on weekends to bars, parties, and the occasional concerts.

Ever since you distanced yourself from them a little, they got into relationships. It wasn’t until today that you actually spent time with them and their partners and got to know them a little.

Jimin was sitting on your right, and eventually, you found yourselves talking apart from the others. He started telling you about his partner and how he got in a little fight with them over whether it’s right or not to look at other people at the gym.

Later, the others were all over that topic, arguing whether it was socially acceptable or not to look at someone else at the gym while your partner was there with you. All the alcohol you’ve drank made itself present. Your overall volume rose with each minute, with everyone voicing their opinions.

You had already told tipsy Jimin your point of view, so you got fed up with the subject when it turned into an actual discussion between Hoseok and his partner.

Sam and Gemma were still talking with Jimin over what he did, his partner’s words, and whatnot. So you found your chance to get up and go to the jukebox.

It took less than two minutes of you looking through the catalog when you suddenly saw a tall figure standing by your side.

“Hi,” he said.

You turned to look straight into his eyes. “Hi.”

“You look radiant, better than before.”

You bit your smile back and answered, “can’t complain.” Still searching for a song.

He came closer to you, “we meet again.”

A smile escaped from you. “It’s been almost a year, huh.”

Now they’re walking on ice. To see who slips first. No strings intertwined. They were never anything, but there was always something.

“I know, it’s crazy.” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. “Can we meet later?”

There was something.

“My friend is staying over.” You had already picked two songs but still had three more credits.

“I can come by.”

You were thinking hard about which songs to pick, but Yoongi was making it really hard to concentrate.

Of course, I want you to come over. Yet, I still want to hang on to the small remains of my pride.

“I think it would be better if we go out sometime this week if you want.”

Filled with anxiety over what you were arranging, you started tapping your fingers against the machine, not remembering which artist you were looking for in the first place.

“I thought you no longer wanted to see me.”

You lifted your chin to look at him and gave him a smirk. “Well,” you said with a nervous laugh, “I did, but I can’t lie to you; I’ve been thinking about you for days.”

“Why?”

“Why? What do you mean why?”

“I don’t know, I thought you were done with me.”

“Yoongi, we can’t talk about that here.”

You were finally searching for the last song. “Well, I’ll see you at your house later.”

Again, you turned to look at him but gave him an annoyed expression. You kept going through Pink Floyd’s songs, your distress not letting you find your favorite song by them.

“Can I? Just for a while. I want to talk to you.”

“Talk about what Yoongi?”

Finally, <The Great Gig in the Sky>.

“About why you left like that back then.”

You finally turned your whole body to answer him, “Alright then, you can come by later.” And with that, you returned to your seat at the table. Everyone asked what took you so long, and while you explained that you couldn’t find the songs you wanted, Yoongi came back to his seat, too. All eyes were on you, his included.

It actually got you happy that he talked to you first.

Untethered intertwining. They were never anything, but there was always something.

Sam, Hoseok, and his girlfriend left around 2 a.m., but the rest of you kept finding things to talk about.

You never stopped drinking, but you weren’t feeling drunk yet. In one of your trips to the bathroom, Gemma told you she liked Yoongi for the first time, and it got you all giddy. As you were walking back, you and Yoongi couldn’t take your eyes off of each other. Both of you were getting impatient to finally be alone again.

You’re both talking to your friends, and you’re laughing, and you look across the table. You’re not even far apart, but you catch each other’s eyes, and it’s this secret that exists right there, unnoticed, and no one else knows about it, no one else but you and Yoongi.

The rest of your friends were already drunk, so he told you, “We should go.”

“Come on, I’ll take you both home.”

Gemma hopped in the back of his car, and you got yourself in the passenger seat.

All your actions were too familiar for someone who hasn’t seen this guy in over ten months.

The next thing you knew, your phone connected automatically to his car, and he urged you to put some music on.

It was until this moment, on your way to your house, that you realized you were very drunk. You don’t even remember which playlist or songs you played.

When you arrived home, you gathered all your might to get Gemma inside. (Yoongi helped you open all the doors and, most importantly, carry Gemma to your room).

You got Gemma into your bed, changed her clothes, and left her a glass of water on your bedside table. You also used the moment to gulp a glass of water yourself. Meanwhile, Yoongi was already settled in your living room, his eyes not leaving you. Lying on your couch, recognizing when you were feeling more than tipsy. “Are you drunk?”

His voice scared you for a second. You did not realize he was still there or that he was watching your every move. Your smile gave away that you were indeed feeling a little drunk.

“A little? Maybe?”

The way he laughs always gets you. It has this cute yet manly note that you’ve always loved so much.

You curled up on your couch next to Yoongi, facing him. You truly wanted to hear what he wanted to talk about, but this newfound comfort of being on your couch made you sleepy. At the same time, the way he was looking at you was letting the alcohol in your system wear out.

His heavy gaze no longer made you think about talking with him. All you wanted was for him to hold you and kiss you like he used to as if he couldn’t wait any longer to press his lips on yours, to interrupt you while you were saying something with a kiss filled with the desire you both had for the other.

“Are you dating someone else?” His question shocked you. You looked at him wide-eyed. Yoongi looked directly at your eyes like they were the only thing in the room, fearing that if he looked somewhere else, he’d miss the truth coming from your eyes.

Your face turned into a frown, and drinking in his words confused you. You sat straight to ask your first question, but he beat you to it. “Is that why you left me?” The blood drained from your face.

Is he serious? Is he genuinely clueless? Or is he just being stupid?

“Is that what you want to hear? That I’ve been dating around?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you disappeared again; if you wanted me to go to hell, you could’ve said so.”

“What are you even saying, Yoongi?”

“I thought you were dating someone.” He let out what must have been a bitter laugh.

“Well, I’m not… I don’t have time to go out with ‘people’.”

Do you even know why it’s so goddamn impossible for me to let you go? Because every song, every moment, and every person reminds me of you.

Why did you even want to see him this time around? Have you ever thought about that? It didn’t even matter because it was always the same. You suddenly forget how you feel or whatever you wanted to say as soon as you’re in front of him. Even if you said something, he wasn’t going to listen. He never does.

“Are you dating someone?”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about. I need to know why you left me that night.”

“So, you are dating someone...”

“Just tell me why you left me.”

“Fine, I bet I won’t even remember this in the morning,” you laugh softly, maybe in preparation for what you would say next.

You collapse back onto your couch, sighing as your head sinks into the soft cushions. Your eyes drift upward, fixating on the blank expanse of the ceiling above you.

“It’s just that… I don’t know; that day, you were acting so strange toward me, and I truly thought you weren’t my Yoongi anymore. It’s like you were dying to get out of there, and I figured it would be better if I was the one who left first”. You smiled, but everyone could have seen the bitterness behind it. “I trust- no, I hoped… that what you told me that you wanted for us was true, but I couldn’t see a trace of that in you anymore. I didn’t want to turn into an anxious mess and think about you non-stop or… try to find out why you acted like that, so yeah, I left you again.”

He felt a tightness in his chest when he heard you say, “My Yoongi.” It wasn’t helping that your words sounded so real to him at that moment. This was easily the third time he’d seen you somewhat vulnerable. He was going to regret talking about this.

“Do you want me to ask you what was going on with you that day?” Your head was still on the couch, but it was now turned to get a better look at his face. You were still smiling.

He thought, Why is she smiling? Why is she always smiling?

“But you said you weren’t gonna remember this in the morning.” There goes his sweet laugh again.

“We can try.”

“Can we try with a kiss instead?”

Only the sound of cars driving by could be heard.

You don’t even remember that kiss anymore.

That should have been a dead giveaway that everything was bound to turn out very wrong after that night.

The following days were even worse. Your conversations over text were boring and awkward. You felt that he was being an ass on purpose, as if he was making you pay for what you “put” him through. Sick and tired. That’s how you were beginning to feel towards this ongoing joke. Over the week, you started remembering the first thing you wrote about him. It was the first time you’d drifted apart.

“I want to see you. I want to be with you now. I hate feeling this needy. I like you so much that I don’t know what to do with all these emotions. Remember that night when we kissed for the first time? Our lips touched, and I think my heart lost its rhythm for a few minutes. It’s okay if you don’t remember it the way I do. But I want you to know that I’ll never forget how you made me feel that night. I think I fell in love with you since then. I’ve missed you almost every day since you left. I realized that I look pretty when I’m sad, but I look prettier when somebody says your name, and I smile uncontrollably. I wish I could explain the physical pain I feel inside my chest when I think about you. And I wish that pain could be erased if we’re being honest. I don’t know what’s wrong with us. I’m running out of ideas to make this work, and I feel like if I don’t do something to save us, you won’t do it either; even though I know you care, I know you’re just going to stand there, arms crossed watching everything drift away. I can’t get out of my head that time you said that you felt that you were hurting me instead of making me feel good, and I said that sometimes I think I hate you. I swear I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I’m too scared of losing you for good because I have this feeling that I won’t feel like this ever again; I’m afraid I’ll have to lose this part of myself that feels genuinely in love with someone. I thought we were made for each other. I thought you were one of my soulmates. I still think we are. But we keep fucking it up every single time. I won’t lie; I’m fine some days, but the smallest things break me. I know it’s not your fault that I’m so damn sensitive, but my feelings have always been this intense, this is who I am, and I was hoping that you would learn to love the whole mess that I am just as much as I love yours. It’s not that I can’t be with someone else and forget about you—I know I can—but I don’t want to be without you. I don’t know what it is about this day, but my head feels so much heavier when we’re having problems. I feel mad at you, and I bet you’re mad at me, too. Have I always been this hard? Or are you just realizing that being with me is a lot of work and I’m not worth it? I’m not ready to let you go. You’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted to keep around. You treat me so well when we’re together. I love when you take my hand in yours. I love every time it’s just you and me, and we talk about life. There’s no one for me but you. You’re the only face I can see. I hope you know I’m only pretending to hate you when I love you so much. After all, I’ll always hope it’s you and me in the end. I’m happy if I get to be with you.”

That was seven fucking years ago. Funny huh?

It was never supposed to turn out like this. Who would’ve thought that someone could pull you down like this under the guise of love? Was it really only an individual’s fault?

Did it keep going because no one wanted to be the bad guy? If we didn’t have feelings for each other, if we didn’t think of each other, would we have dragged it on like this?

Those words played over and over again in your head. Whenever you came to be together again, that was eventually all you wondered about.

That first letter was born when the first layer that was blinding you was uncovered. It was as if something was finally letting you see the shape of the person Yoongi was—or at least the person he was with you.

Next year. The second “letter” came.

“Everything’s been so weird lately. I don’t get you. You didn’t talk to me for three days, yet you still think I’ll say yes when you want to see me late at night when you finally feel like it? Seriously? I’m angry at you, but mostly, I’m angry at myself. How can I be so blind to not realize that nothing will ever happen between us? Why am I still here? I know it’s because I want to be with someone, but maybe that person is not you. Because if you wanted to, we would be something by now. I know you won’t ever change because it’s been 2 years since this started, and you’re still the same. Maybe I fell in love with the hope and longing. All I did was imagine myself with you, I thought I was being patient about us. I can’t help but be a hopeless romantic, that’s all I’ve been my whole life. Occasionally, I find myself doing dumb shit all the time, like apologizing to the stars on behalf of both of us for not keeping our promises. I’ve been thinking about how sad I have been lately. Telling myself I’m stupid for loving you after all you’ve made me go through, how useless I feel, and how painful every day gets, honestly, this love I feel for you is making me crazy. But I shouldn’t be worrying about this. I know it may seem complicated to live with a broken heart, crying until your tears make you blind. I keep saying to myself, “It’s time you get yourself together, fall in love with yourself again, and forgive yourself for thinking you were stupid when you only acted out of love for someone who couldn’t see all you were.” But let’s be honest, being aware of all this still doesn’t make it any easier. I still feel so lost. And confused. I wish I knew how to stop loving you. I miss my peace of mind. I know what I’m supposed to do but don’t know where to start. I know that one day we’ll cross paths again, and I won’t feel a thing anymore, but until then, I’ll keep trying to convince myself that I don’t want you anymore. What have you done to me? What have I done to myself? What is it about you that ended up putting me through this hell? For the past few months, we barely saw each other. I still remember the last words we exchanged, and I feel sick, I keep wishing you would’ve done something else, hoping you would’ve said something different, but wishing for this doesn’t matter anymore, I’ll just keep hurting myself if I keep thinking about this version of you that I kept romanticizing. I’m tired now. All this was too much for me. But let me tell you one thing. I never even thought for a second that I was wasting my time with you. Not even when all my friends told me so. I took pride in myself for “knowing” when a guy doesn’t want you, but you were so confusing. You used to always be there. You knew exactly what to do and what to say so I could keep my love alive, making me think that maybe one day we would be together, but now I’m truly fed up with you. I’m angry. I know I can live without talking to you, but I don’t think I can be in the same room with you and not feel a thing. I’m telling you this because I want you to understand me. I want us to end on good terms because I know it’ll be impossible for us to stop seeing each other. So please help me, because this won’t be easy for me. I still care about you. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to keep crying, but understand me, I’m not crying for you. It’s just that I have so much inside me that I could never say to you. I know now that I was too much for you.”

In the span of two years, all that relationship lay before your eyes, yet somehow you didn’t want to see it. You decided to keep your hope alive even if it hurt you.

Several breakups between the two of you. A few relationships with other people in the middle of it all. Countless times you wanted to run to him just one more time. The occasional texts came from him, asking how you were and if you wanted to meet again.

You tried to be strong most of the time. You even felt you had gotten over Yoongi on every period where you’d stopped running into him. Those were the times when it was easy. But it was also quite embarrassing how quickly you’d fall into his trap once he got into your head again.

So yeah, you caved in after that kiss from last night.

You were letting this happen. You wanted this on this occasion.

It should be fine, right?

Eventually, after a few weeks, both of you started sorting out your emotions and everything felt pretty normal again.

Why do I make things so complicated when there’s no need to?

You can’t help but doubt yourself and doubt him. You want to know what’s in his head, yet you know it should be enough for you that he wants to keep seeing you.

All these doubts made you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re treating this in the same way you would’ve years ago.

Just focus on the now.

Aside from that…

You like him very much. He can talk about a bunch of things with you. He can be cute when he wants to be. You used to have a lot in common in terms of music. You like his style. And let’s not get started on his tattoos. ON TOP OF THAT, HIS ARMS. For some weird reason, I always forget he has dimples.

Ultimately, years pass and you always run back to him. You genuinely enjoy being in the same room as him.

No one has gotten close to how he makes you feel. Every time you see him again, everything feels the same. Your feelings towards him haven’t changed.

The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle but never break.

A month later

Ah, shit.

You were having a relatively good weekend. It was the 4th of July. You spent it with your family and now it was almost midnight but you were still texting with your best friend. She was at a party with Sam, Jess, and all the guys. You were experiencing a mild fomo, but you had a deal with your parents, so you had to pass that party this time.

Even Jungkook texted you earlier asking why you weren’t there. But that’s another story.

Your best friend was getting drunker with every text she sent, but she had put herself on the task of updating you with all of Yoongi’s whereabouts and doings.

I mean go ahead I guess. It makes me feel like it’s my fault for not showing enough interest again. This is making me uneasy. Because I like him but turns out he doesn’t like me enough? I WANT TO SCREAM.

I shouldn’t be angry because it’s my fault. I know so. I’m not trying enough, and maybe this was bound to happen. I can’t ask him to just talk to me. He needs to live his life too, he’s human, and he gets tired of waiting for someone who doesn’t seem “invested” in him. FUCK.

He ended up coming to your place around 1 a.m.

And this time, you actually talked. You were worried he’d drank too much, but he showed to be as sober as one can be.

Before he got there, you were extremely nervous, but once you sat with him on your couch, all your tension and fears calmed down. You valued that he was able to make you feel that way.

Your feelings went on a rollercoaster in a matter of a few hours, it was so fucking strange to read those words. To paint yourself a picture of what Yoongi was doing with you.

“Why weren’t you at the party?”

“I spent the whole weekend with my parents, so I couldn’t go.” “I wanted to, though.”

“It would’ve been cool if you had gone, everyone was asking about you.”

A smirk appeared on your face. “And what did you tell ’em?”

“That you didn’t want to see me,” He joked.

You started playing with him.

“That’s sliiightly true,”

After that, he laughed but got closer to you. He even got a lot more talkative, narrating to you everything he and your friends did earlier on. You were pretty entranced in him. It’s risky when you love to hear someone just talk. He took in the way you were gazing at him and figured there was no point in wasting more time. It was obvious Yoongi only went to your place to see if he was getting lucky tonight.

You realized his face was inching closer to yours. Your eyes scanning his own. Him doing the same, with the occasional glance at your lips. You weren’t gonna kiss him. Still, you let him get close enough so your lips could brush each other.

Then you smiled.

You weren’t gonna miss the chance to let him try to explain to you what the hell was going on, so you thought you’d go straight to the point.

“Can I ask you something?”

He returned your smile.

“Wait, let me guess”- “You want to know if I have a girlfriend”.

Motherfucker.

Your smile faltered slightly at him guessing the question, but he maintained eye contact with you. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you wanted to ask,” he replied. His tone is a mix of playfulness and seriousness. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

The way his mind immediately went there. We’ll worry about that later.

Yoongi’s words echoed in your ears, you couldn’t help but believe him. There was something about his voice, his gaze, that made you blindly trust his every word.

Yoongi’s expression softened, his gaze unwavering. “I want you to know that I’m being genuine right now. I don’t have a girlfriend, I’m not seeing anybody formally, romantically, emotionally, or whatever you imagined. I want to give us a chance to make things right for you.”

You clung to the hope that this time he was telling the truth.

A sense of relief washed over you as you leaned closer to Yoongi. Ignoring the cautionary whispers in the back of your mind, you let yourself be swept away by his intoxicating presence.

His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, and for a moment, it felt like all your doubts and worries faded away.

Days turned into weeks, and you reveled in the blissful illusion of having Yoongi in your life once again. Yoongi seemed attentive, caring, and utterly devoted to you. He showered you with affection, making you believe that you were his only one this time.

Over the next months, your interactions with Yoongi were limited to texts. There were no dates or visits to your house or his place, for that matter. It’s like he was growing bored. But that’s nothing new anymore.

You started to grow tired of his refusal to let you go, even if he didn’t like you the way you liked him. You knew it was time to move on and find someone who would honestly reciprocate your feelings.

And then, on a spontaneous note, one day, you stumbled upon someone through Instagram.

thv replied to your story.

It started with you two sending each other songs for a few days.

Then, when you got to actually talk to him. You realized he was funny, his music taste almost immaculate, he was extremely nice to you, and he cared about what you had to say. You basically had the same interests. And hands down, you enjoyed talking to him a lot.

Ever since you started talking to this new guy, called Taehyung, you felt like something had shifted in your life. And it’s only been 3 days since then.

This time, it turned out you were wrong. Wrong about everything.

I can’t regret anything, because I tried, I wholeheartedly tried. I don’t plan to try and understand him anymore.

Yoongi had been lying through his teeth the whole time. He did have a girlfriend, and he reveled in his power over you. He enjoyed playing with your emotions, relishing in his control over you.

You found out a few days ago, and you struggled to know what to do. You weren’t going to just ghost him. You couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be passive-aggressive toward him, and it showed in your texts.

But you weren’t counting on that he was even more of a cynic than you. And you were getting angrier that he wouldn’t accept anything and refused to let the conversation die.

So yeah, it took 3 days.

It took you that long to get yourself way ahead of everything. About Taehyung specifically.

You don’t remember having met him before.

If only you knew that he remembers the first time he saw you in college and several parties after that.

He’d grown attracted to you every time he saw you. However, you never once seemed to acknowledge his presence.

And don’t get him wrong. He didn’t mind. You were just a platonic interest. Somehow he knew you weren’t exactly available even if he never saw you with a guy before.

He just took his chance a few days ago, not expecting anything. Just with the simple excuse of finally getting to know you.

He was a good listener, interested in your thoughts. With each message exchanged, your connection grew extremely fast.

This got you scared. You had barely talked to him and were already getting VERY INTERESTED.

On the fourth day, he invited you to the movies, but ended up going out to two bars and then dancing.

You shared even more stories, talked about your dreams, and even found yourselves discussing your insecurities in your love life.

Taehyung made you feel seen, heard, and valued – something you hadn’t felt in a long time. He was patient and understood your reservations.

On the cab, in the way back to your place, you rested your head on his shoulder, hand in hand, you truly felt so calm, it had been the nicest date ever.

Hell, you haven’t even had a proper date in years. So, no one can blame you when you finally let yourself be vulnerable for once.

Taehyung knew he’d like you, but never to this extent. He wasn’t scared when he realized he was falling in love with you. All he wanted was to see you every single day from now on. He took the initiative to plan a date next week, but you went out of town to visit your cousin.

So Monday it is. There was only one thing that you had to take care of. Before you let yourself move on to the next step in your love life.

Dealing with Yoongi was getting tiring, so it finally happened. The long overdue conversation occurred. Over texts, but it happened.

For once, you didn’t see the point in continuing. You and Yoongi have been through this road way too many times, and nothing has changed.

You decided to cut ties with Yoongi for good on that Monday. From now on, Taehyung could be the only one in your head.

As you were getting ready for your date with Taehyung, you couldn’t help but think about your conversation with Yoongi just a few hours ago. It was strange how life presented you with new opportunities right on the heels of letting go of the past. The decision to leave Yoongi was still fresh in your mind, but you hoped that this date with Taehyung would make you feel different, as bad as it could sound, but a distraction to that awful bit.

Taehyung took you to the movies, and from the moment the film began, your hands found each other’s, fingers intertwining. The dimly lit theater provided the perfect backdrop for this quiet display of affection. The movie itself was fun at times, but it was almost a blur of scenes and dialogue because your attention was elsewhere. You didn’t realize that Taehyung also spent that entire hour and a half not watching the movie, but watching you. He observed the way your eyes lit up at the funny parts, the sound of your laughter made his heart skip a beat. It was as if he had his own private screening of your reactions, and to him, it was the most captivating thing in the world.

The next stop on your adventure was an arcade, a place filled with flashing lights and the noise of all the games you can imagine. You couldn’t resist the air hockey table, and without hesitation, you both grabbed the paddles. As the puck glided across the smooth surface, it was evident that both of you were really good at it. Soon, a couple of small kids had gathered around, their eyes wide with fascination as they watched you play.

Taehyung, multitasking effortlessly, started chatting with them while maintaining his competitive spirit. A little girl, no older than seven, stood beside you, her eyes sparkling with innocence. She looked up at you with a hopeful smile and asked, “Are you going to beat your boyfriend?” Her question caught you off guard, and you burst into laughter at her adorable bluntness. Taehyung, engrossed in his conversation with the other kids, didn’t hear the question. All he could see was how your laughter sounded like the sweetest melody in the world.

Distracted by your laugh, Taehyung lost to you in the game. The little kids erupted in cheers, celebrating your victory as if you had just won a championship. They eagerly lined up to give you high-fives, momentarily forgetting that Taehyung even existed. That was until he, still keen on entertaining the kids, asked if they knew how to play. The result was an excited chorus of enthusiastic and loud ‘yes’s’.

It was an endearing sight as Taehyung listened attentively to the kids. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but smile at how easily he connected with them.

“Okay, guys, what’s the next game we should play?” Taehyung asked, genuinely intrigued by their suggestions.

The kids seemed to have a dozen ideas at once, and it was all a jumble of arcade classics, from racing games to shooting hoops. One girl, with a mischievous glint in her eye, pointed at the dance machine in the corner.

“Can we try that dance game?” she asked, her excitement infectious.

Taehyung exchanged a playful glance with you, and you both agreed, despite the potential embarrassment that awaited you. The music blared from the machine, and you gave it your all, dancing like nobody was watching (except a group of kids, of course). Taehyung joined in nervously, even though his dancing skills were almost too good.

The kids burst into laughter at everyone’s dance moves, cheering you on with each step. It was one of those moments where embarrassment turned into pure joy, and you couldn’t have cared less about who was watching.

It was heartwarming to see him engage with them, making sure each child had a good time. After making sure the kids had enough tokens to keep playing, Taehyung gently took your hand, and together you wandered through the arcade. The place was a riot of flashing lights and game sounds, but it all faded into the background as you explored hand in hand.

Eventually, you came across the game involving knocking down rows of clown figures. You both paused, taking in the challenge. With the timer ticking down, Taehyung turned to you. His eyes sparkled with affection, and amidst the blinking lights and arcade tunes, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You paused for a moment, your heart racing as you looked into Taehyung’s eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him - far from it. In fact, you felt a strong pull towards him, a connection that seemed to grow with every passing second. Even more so, after the side of him you saw today.

But there was something holding you back, a nagging doubt that whispered in the back of your mind. You had just met Taehyung, and even though the chemistry between you two was sweet, you wanted to take things slow. You didn’t want to rush into anything, not after what you’d been through with Yoongi.

So, with a soft smile, you gently shook your head and replied, “Not yet.” It was a response that carried a promise, a promise that there would be time for kisses and more in the future, once you were both ready to take that step. Taehyung nodded understandingly, his smile mirroring your own, and you continued your adventure to a bar, still hand in hand.

As you settled into a cozy corner of the bar, the atmosphere shifted, becoming more intimate. The soft hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and mellow jazz music in the background created the perfect backdrop for a meaningful conversation.

You started by talking about your time at the arcade, laughing about how the kids had cheered for you when you won the game. Taehyung joined in, sharing his amusement at their excitement. It was a light and joyful conversation that made you feel even closer to him.

Taehyung was genuinely interested in getting to know you better. He asked about your family, and you shared stories about your parents and siblings. In turn, he spoke fondly about his own family, reminiscing about childhood memories and you noticed how much he loved them.

Work became the next topic of discussion. You both talked about your careers, your aspirations, and the challenges you faced in life. Taehyung’s dedication and passion for his job shone through, and you found yourself admiring his determination.

As the night wore on, the conversation deepened. You talked about life, dreams, and the things that truly mattered to you. It was a conversation that left you feeling a sense of connection you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You realized that this was different from anything you had with Yoongi, something that was still scary to you.

As the night progressed and the conversation with Taehyung deepened, you couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between him and Yoongi. Taehyung’s genuine interest in getting to know you, his kindness, and his openness were like a breath of fresh air compared to the complexity and uncertainty of your history with Yoongi.

The realization that this connection with Taehyung was different, something new and potentially beautiful, both excited and scared you. It was scary because it meant stepping out of your comfort zone, venturing into unfamiliar territory, and leaving behind the emotional rollercoaster that had defined your relationship with Yoongi.

But that fear didn’t deter you. In fact, it fueled a sense of courage you hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe you were ready to embrace something real, something stable, and something built on honesty and trust. It was a daunting prospect, but for the first time in a while, it might be worth taking that leap into the unknown.

The night had stretched on longer than you had initially planned, but you didn’t mind one bit. In fact, you didn’t want it to end.

As Taehyung’s car pulled up to your place, reality seemed to rush back in. With the engine turned off and the night’s silence settling around you, you both remained seated in the car. It was one of those moments where time felt suspended, and neither of you seemed in a hurry to say goodbye.

You gazed into Taehyung’s eyes, his warm and sincere gaze locked onto yours. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness. You knew what you wanted, and in this moment, you felt a surge of courage you hadn’t experienced before.

Taehyung’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as he said, “I had a really great time tonight.”

You smiled, your heart racing. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice equally hushed.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Finally, you took a deep breath, your nervousness mingling with excitement. “Taehyung, can I ask you something?”

His eyes were curious. “Of course.”

Without overthinking it, you leaned in, closing the gap between you and Taehyung. In the dimly lit car, your lips finally met a gentle and electrifying connection that seemed to seal the promise of something new, something real.

As you pulled away, your foreheads touching, you whispered, “I’ve actually been wanting to do that all night.”

Taehyung chuckled, feeling a newfound hope. “Me too.”

Unable to resist kissing him way longer, you reached out again. The kiss started slow, a tantalizing exploration of each other’s lips. Your mouth was warm and inviting, and Taehyung couldn’t resist the urge to deepen the kiss.

Your lips moved together with a fiery passion, tongues dancing in a tango. There were no more words, just the intoxicating taste of each other. Your hands roamed, tracing all of his torso, igniting a fiery desire within both of you.

Taehyung bit your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine, and you responded with a soft moan. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more fervent. It was a hunger that had been building all night, and now it was impossible to contain.

The kiss was wild, a passionate exchange, a language of desire and longing. You explored every inch of each other’s mouths, savoring the taste of your newfound connection.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless, lips swollen and hearts pounding. Taehyung’s eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that matched the fiery kiss you had just shared.

He whispered, his voice husky, “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you.”

You grinned, your own desire burning bright. “I’m glad we finally did.”

As you entered your home, the soft glow of your phone illuminated the room. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a series of texts from Taehyung, sent with an urgency that mirrored the fiery passion of your kiss.

From that moment on, there wasn’t a single time of day when you weren’t texting each other. The connection between you two was electric, and it seemed like every message, every word, only deepened your bond. It didn’t take long for Taehyung to invite you again on a date, and he chose a taproom for the occasion.

Taehyung arrived the following Saturday at your doorstep around 7 p.m., his charming smile lighting up the evening. Dressed casually but looking effortlessly handsome, he greeted you warmly.

“Hey there,” he said, his voice a pleasant melody. “Ready for our night out?”

With a nod and an excited smile, you locked the door behind you and joined him. The short drive to the taproom was filled with easy conversation and soft laughs. When you arrived, you were greeted not just by the cozy atmosphere of the taproom but also by some of Taehyung’s friends who had already gathered there.

Taehyung couldn’t contain his excitement about introducing you to his friends. He made the rounds, enthusiastically presenting you to each one of them, his introductions filled with admiration. As the evening went on, his friends couldn’t help but tease you both when they knew you weren’t officially a couple.

However, that made them gush about Taehyung. They spoke of his kindness, his sense of humor, and his unwavering loyalty. They assured you that you’d found someone truly special, and it was clear they thought he’d done the same in finding you.

Throughout the night, amidst the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging. Taehyung’s friends were welcoming, and their approval only added to the unique feeling of the evening.

As the night continued, the connection between you and Taehyung deepened. Your hands naturally gravitated towards each other, fingers interlacing as if they had always belonged together. There was a palpable comfort in being so close, and the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

In the midst of this enchanting evening, a message from Sam popped up on your phone. She was suggesting a plan for tomorrow - a baseball game. Without a moment’s hesitation, you enthusiastically said yes.

But what made your heart race, even more, was the eagerness to include Taehyung in your plans. You turned to him, a radiant smile on your face, and said, “Hey, my friends just invited me to a baseball game tomorrow. Do you want to join us? It’d be amazing if you’d come with me.”

His eyes lit up with delight at the invitation, and he nodded, “yeah, I’d love to be there with you.”

It felt like a natural step, merging your separate worlds and bringing Taehyung closer to your heart.

In your world, your friends were your anchors, your family, and the people who knew you best. If someone couldn’t fit into that crucial part of your life, it was often a telling sign that the relationship might not make it.

As you looked forward to the baseball game the next day, there was a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You believed in Taehyung and the genuine connection you shared, but there was always that sliver of doubt. Would he mesh well with your friends? Would they see what you saw in him?

But deep down, you had a feeling that this was a significant step. If Taehyung could seamlessly become a part of your world, it would be a powerful confirmation of your relationship.

Thoughts of tomorrow’s baseball game, and the potential changes it might bring, had temporarily vanished. All you craved at that moment were the hugs, kisses, and the warmth of holding Taehyung’s hand.

The atmosphere seemed to hum with your love surge, an electric charge that coursed through you, making every moment feel like a heart-pounding adventure. As you bid farewell to Taehyung’s friends, you couldn’t wait to be alone with him, to dance again at the same bar where your love story began.

Tonight, something was different. Your excitement was on an all-time high. The tension that had built up between you over the last dates, the unspoken desires and emotions, were now rising to the surface. The connection between you two was undeniable, and your touches were igniting sparks that seemed to intensify with each passing second.

In the dimly lit bar, the pulsating beat of the music coursed through your veins, syncing with your every move. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, and as you moved to the rhythm, your dance became a sensual invitation. Your body swayed and undulated in harmony with the music, your hips swiveling provocatively to the seductive melodies.

Taehyung watched you with desire burning in his eyes, unable to resist the magnetic pull you had on him. Your dance was a mesmerizing display of confidence and allure. Your hands moved sensually across your own body, tracing the curves and contours that begged for his touch.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Taehyung stepped closer, his hands finding their way to your hips. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to him as he succumbed to the same fiery rhythm.

Your bodies moved together, pressed intimately against each other. The heat between you grew with every tantalizing sway, and the world around you faded into obscurity. In that moment, there was only the two of you, lost in the lights of desire and passion, each movement drawing you closer to an inevitable collision of lips and bodies.

As the night at the bar wore on, the two of you shared more than just dances. After one particularly intense moment, you found yourself with your back pressed against Taehyung’s chest, the thumping bass of the music reverberating through both of you. His breath was warm against your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine. In that space, with his arms wrapped around your waist, it felt as if the world had disappeared, leaving only the sensation of his closeness and the rhythmic beating of your hearts in unison.

Between dances, you took breaks to calm yourselves with a beer or whatever drink you saw first at the bar. Each moment spent apart only seemed to fuel the intensity of your attraction. With every sip of your drink, you couldn’t help but glance back at Taehyung, a magnetic pull drawing you together once more. The atmosphere was heady with desire, and your chemistry was through the roof. Each dance, each stolen moment, was a step closer to something neither of you could resist any longer.

After those couple of hours of dancing that left you slightly breathless, you decided to seek refuge in one of the dimly lit booths at the corner of the bar. It provided a temporary sanctuary from the dance floor, allowing you to catch your breath and collect your thoughts amidst the lust that was echoing in your ears. The low hum of laughter and conversation from people around you provided a calming backdrop as you settled in, your heart still racing from the intimate moment with Taehyung, who had managed to stir emotions you hadn’t felt in quite some time.

He slid into the seat opposite you, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers through your body. In the closeness that the booth offered, you could feel something deeper between you. It was as though the music, which had once enveloped you in its intoxicating embrace, was reduced to a mere murmur in the back.

With a playful grin, Taehyung finally broke the silence that had settled between you. “You know,” he began, his voice a low, seductive murmur, “I think we might just be causing a lot of jealous looks in here.”

You chuckled, the sound husky and filled with desire. “I noticed.”

His fingers traced patterns on the table, drawing invisible lines as he continued, “It’s not just about dancing, though. I’ve been imagining being with you like this since the first time I laid eyes on you, and it’s been killing me all night.”

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your ears as you whispered, “Since the first time you saw me?” Not trusting yourself enough to say what you were really thinking, so you mirrored his words.

Taehyung’s hand reached across the table, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. “I can’t keep my composure anymore,” he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking about more than this all week.”

He paused, his gaze locked onto yours with a smoldering intensity. “You know,” he added with a sultry smile, “seeing you getting along so well with my best friends earlier, it just… made me so hard.”

The anticipation hung in the air like a charged current, a palpable magnetism drawing you closer together. It was a sensation you couldn’t ignore, a magnetic pull that seemed destined to ignite into something more profound.

You bit your lip, your pupils were blown, unable to contain the emotions surging within you. “Taehyung,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “if you keep this up, I think I might fall in love with you.”

His eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and affection as he leaned in closer. “Is that so?” he murmured, his lips tantalizingly close to yours. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

Moments later, Taehyung led you to his apartment.

“I’m glad that we can finally be together like this.” He said with a sincere smile, his hand moving lower to cup your ass. He couldn’t resist anymore; he had to have you right then and there.

He slid his hand under your skirt, feeling the smoothness of your skin against his fingertips. Traced the outline of your panties through the fabric of your bottom. Taehyung felt a wave of arousal wash over him as he painted himself a picture of what lay beneath. Slowly, he slid his hands up your legs until he reached the hem of your panties. With a gentle tug, he pulled them down, revealing your wetness to him.

The sudden exposure caused you to blush slightly, but it only fueled his desire further. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of what came next “*Aren’t you going to see how wet I got because you?”

He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek, then gently placed his hand on your inner thigh. As he did so, he whispered in your ear. “Do you really want me to do this?”

“I want this, trust me.”

He slid his hand up higher, feeling the warmth and dampness of your cunt. He could hear your soft gasps and moans as he touched your pussy. He continued to stroke you gently, feeling your muscles tighten around his fingers.

He heard your moans and started to become even more aroused. He could feel his own hard on growing in his pants, and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before you both got carried away. He slowly pulled back from you and looked into your eyes, his face flushed red with desire. You could tell that he was just as affected as you were.

You nodded, your eyes locked with his as desire coursed through your veins. You breathed, “I want you to touch me. I need your hands in me.”

A low growl rumbled in Taehyung’s throat as he gave you a hungry look, his fingers inching closer to your dripping core. “Fuck,” he muttered, unable to contain his own need. “I’ve been dreaming about this for days. About burying myself deep inside you.”

The raw desire in his words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing second. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, desperate for his touch.

His fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasingly avoiding direct contact with where you needed him most. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you fought to maintain a hint of control.

“Please, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “don’t make me wait.”

A wolfish grin tugged at the corners of Taehyung’s lips as he finally gave in to both of your desires. His fingers dipped into your wet heat, eliciting a moan from deep within your throat.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he groaned, his voice rough with lust. “Did I make you this way? Did I make that pretty little pussy of yours ache for me?”

All coherent thought flew out the window as Taehyung pumped his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots that made pleasure surge through every nerve ending in your body. You could only manage to nod and let out a desperate moan in response.

He wrapped his other hand around your neck, pulling you closer to him. He could feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers, and he knew that you were enjoying this a lot.

He started to apply pressure to your neck, feeling your body respond to his touch. You let out a small gasp of air, and as he continued to choke you, he leaned in closer to your ear and whispered. “Do you like this, baby? Is this what you wanted?”

His thumb found its way to your clit, circling the swollen bud and sending jolts of electricity straight to where you needed it most. The pleasure was overwhelming, bordering on blissful torture, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, baby,” Taehyung whispered, his hot breath fanning across your ear. “I want to feel you cum around my fingers.”

His words were all it took to push you over the edge. The coil of pleasure that had been building inside of you snapped, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through your body. You clung to him as you rode out your orgasm, his touch the only anchor keeping you grounded in a sea of sensations.

As the last tremors of pleasure receded, Taehyung pulled his hand away and brought it up to his lips, sucking your taste off his fingers with a look of pure satisfaction on his face.

After a few hours spent in tangled in touches, the clock ticked its way to 4 a.m., signaling the impending end of the night’s bliss. Despite the energy that was bubbling up between you, the evening hadn’t ventured beyond the boundaries of those lewd touches, leaving something else lingering in the air. As the minutes kept passing, a sense of reality nudged its way back into the forefront of your mind.

“You’re even sweeter than I imagined,” Taehyung’s voice, thick with desire, caressed the dimly lit room, echoing the sentiments of the night.

With a hazed smile playing on your lips, you gently disentangled yourself from Taehyung’s embrace, the need for rest tugging at your consciousness. “I have to go home, Taehyung,” you murmured softly, your words tinged with regret at the thought of parting, “I should get some actual sleep if we want to spend the whole day together again.”

Your fingers traced soothing circles along his shoulders, a silent reassurance of your affection. “You are coming with me tomorrow, right?” you queried, hope flickering in your eyes as you awaited his response.

In the hazy glow of his room, Taehyung’s gaze met yours, a promise dancing in his eyes. “Absolutely,” he affirmed, his voice laced with determination, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

With a final exchange of tender kisses and lingering glances, you reluctantly bid farewell to Taehyung’s warm embrace, bracing yourself for your way home.

Despite the lingering effects of last night’s alcohol roaming your body, a surge of adrenaline pulsed through your veins as you rolled out of bed, battling against the persistent fog of a very hungover you. With each groggy step towards the bathroom, the anticipation of the day ahead infused your weary limbs with energy, overriding the dull ache in your head.

As you splashed cool water on your face, the mirror reflected a mix of exhaustion and excitement in your eyes. Today was the day you’d introduce Taehyung to your best friends, a prospect that filled you with nerves. The thought of seeing their reactions, of sharing this part of your life with them, ignited a spark within you.

After downing a much-needed glass of water and popping a couple of painkillers to combat the lingering headache, you set about getting ready for the day. Despite the persistent throb at your temples, you couldn’t help but hum a tune under your breath, the thrill of today’s plan chasing away the last traces of drowsiness.

With each minute, the excitement grew, the clock ticking in slow motion as you counted down the moments until Taehyung went to pick you up. Finally, the sound of the doorbell shattered the quiet of the morning, heralding the arrival of your lover boy.

With a quick glance in the mirror to ensure you looked somewhat presentable despite feeling like shit, you hurried to answer the door, a smile of genuine delight spreading across your face at the sight of Taehyung standing on your doorstep, two large cups of coffee in hand and a grin that mirrored your own excitement.

“There we have my pretty and hungover girl,” he greeted you warmly, his eyes alight with anticipation, “are we all set for the big day?”

With a nod and a grin, you took the cup he handed you, the aroma wafting up to greet your senses. “Definitely”.

As you and Taehyung arrived at the stadium, the vibrant atmosphere of the bustling crowd greeted you with a wave of excitement. Sam, Gemma, and Jin were already waiting for you near the entrance, their infectious laughter echoing in the air as they exchanged playful banter.

“Hey, look who finally decided to show up!” Sam exclaimed, her grin widening as she caught sight of you and Taehyung approaching. “And who’s this handsome stranger you’ve brought along?”

lmk if you're up for reading the second part of this mess 🤭 bonus. just a little jungkookie for fun

66 notes · View notes

jvngkook97 · 2 years

Text

Killing Me Softly

synopsis; you wake up from a night of fun, yet one you barely remember. your vampire bff ghosts you and your past comes to haunt you in the worst way possible. OR they say that blood is thicker than water, but what do you do when the person you trust most turns out to be the monster you’ve always been warned about?

pairing; vampire!jungkook x human!reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, horror, smut(for later chapters), f2l, vampire au

warnings; cursing, jealousy, lots of confusion on reader’s part, moments of self doubt, flashbacks, mentions of blood, mentions of committing a violent act, familiar faces, soft vampire!koo moments, more horror tropes, some new competition for reader??

rating; 21+ MINORS DNI

w/c; 5,444

a/n; FIRST OFF THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. this is part two of ‘sucker for love’. highly recommend reading that first chapter in order to understand what’s going on. don’t be a silent reader! <3 i can’t express enough how much all of your kind words and encouragement genuinely fuel my inspiration. feedback is always appreciated and helps keep this writer motivated in order to put out more content – like this! all the love, always.

networks; @thebtswritersclub, @btshoneyhive, @kflixnet, @k-vanity

01. 02. 03

“Have we learned our lesson now?”

Your roommate, Valerie, leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, arms crossed over her chest. You flipped her the middle finger without looking, head still inside the toilet as your stomach relieved itself of whatever poison you ingested. An insult was on the tip of your tongue, but was silenced by another strong heave taking over. She had a point, you were never good when it came to parties and going overboard on drinking, but you would never admit it to her.

Your stomach was still churning from last night’s events, but settled enough for you to sit back against the wall of the bathtub and actually try to think on what the fuck happened. The last thing you remember clearly is Jungkook ditching you, hanging out with Jimin and Yoongi who saved you from being a loner at Namjoon’s party, leaving said party to head to another party once Namjoon shut his down with a group of people you weren’t quite familiar with, and then – nothing. Literally, nothing. It’s all a blank in your mind.

November 1st, 2022 9:04am

When you woke up this morning, you were in your own bed. Your head was a rat’s nest, your makeup was smeared, your clothes were dirty, ripped, and there was little specks of blood on the collar of your costume. Upon further inspection, you realize your cape was long gone and one of your heels was broken. So how you managed to get home on one working heel is beyond you.

What boggled your mind further was the flurry of texts you found on your phone once you plugged it in to charge. Apparently, your phone died sometime during your nightly shenanigans. Reading the texts, it was Jimin asking you where you were and if you were okay. Multiple calls and voicemails followed.

He sounded worried, scared even.

But, that made no sense, why would he feel the need to be so worried about you? Wasn’t he with you the whole time? Yoongi? As soon as you could focus well enough to type out a reply, you told him that you were at home and alive and left it at that. Shortly after sending, the ‘read’ notification pops up, those three bubbles form, and then disappear. You give him another few minutes, but they never return. Huffing, you throw your phone carelessly on the bed, it bounces off and lands on the floor.

Groaning in annoyance, you sink to your knees next to your bed when you realize it must’ve slid underneath when it bounced. Feeling around, your hand bumps into something sharp. You flinch and hiss, cradling your hand to your chest as you inspect the little dot of blood that builds on your fingertip. What the hell?

Now laying sideways on your stomach on the floor, your head turned to look under your bed, you get a better view. Instantly, you hone in on your phone, then use the flashlight on it to illuminate the sharp mystery object.

It was a knife. A bloody knife.

Your eyes widen in horror.

What did you do last night?

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

November 5th, 2022 7:52pm

Remember, remember—

You needed answers.

You needed to remember.

Ones that would explain why you’re currently concealing a potential murder weapon that’s now wrapped in an old raggedy shirt, in a dusty old shoebox, underneath your queen sized bed that ironically has a ‘Halloween’ themed throw blanket on top of it. The main antagonist wielding a knife that looked the exact same, the tip of it also adorning blood.

What can you say?

You’re a major fan of horror movies.

That’s not suspicious at all, though, right? It wouldn’t scream that you have a bloody knife of your own hidden just beneath the surface, right?

Even as you tug down the sleeves of your Freddy Krueger replica sweater you bought from Hot Topic in hopes of fighting off the bone chilly air of November, your thoughts are not only on the fact you may or may not have participated in someone’s demise last night, but they also drift to Jungkook who you haven’t heard or seen since he left you on Halloween night.

Normally, on nights where he has to feed, you wake up in the morning with him in your room just reading one of your books. The curtains are drawn, but he basks in the little warmth of the sun that his skin can handle as he lounges on your reading nook. Generally, it’s a Stephen King novel. He’s finished majority of them. Those days are the best, cause he chooses to be with you, knowing he can’t leave until it gets dark again.

Getting lost in thought, you mindlessly keep walking down the cobblestone path that’s usually quite popular with locals, but right now is barren all except for you—

—and the black cat that scurries across your feet, making you fumble before catching your footing in time so as not to fall flat on your face. The split second fall triggers both an adrenaline rush and a memory you thought you suppressed. You freeze. The wind whips your hair back and forth, some strands get stuck on your wet, slightly parted lips. Your eyes are unblinking, lost in the nightmare. The creases of your eyes begin to fill with tears and you feel a scream bubbling up your throat—

A hand on your shoulder brings you back.

You blink, the tears cease. You close your mouth, pushing your hair behind your ear. Turning around, you follow the hand to the body it’s attached too. Confusion flickers on your face, then is replaced by surprise.

It was the girl. Dracula girl.

From the party.

The ‘lady of the night’ that Jungkook chose.

She’s wearing a tight smile, lips painted a light red. It’s a sharp contrast that stands out against her pale, almost ghostly white skin. Though, that’s not what shocks you the most.

No, it’s her eyes.

Her red eyes.

“You’re y/n, right? Jungkook told me about you. Have a moment to talk?”

What the fuck did Jungkook do that night?

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

“No.”

Your voice is hard, resolute. Your hands dig into the fabric of your jeans that are hidden from the top of one of the wooden picnic tables scattered throughout the local park. Your body is shaking, but it’s not from the cold. You refuse to believe what she – Jules – just told you.

It was impossible.

“Yes. It was your roommate. Valerie.”

Memories flash through your mind of the many years you’ve spent being best friends with your roommate, Valerie. She had her weird quirks, sure. Maybe you thought it was a bit strange when she would go out every Halloween by herself and never tell you where she goes. But besides that, she was just your sarcastic, mutual horror enthusiast, slightly odd and reserved best friend. You didn’t think she was capable of murder.

Nonetheless, be the hunter of vampires.

When you met Valerie, it wasn’t too long after the incident. It was at this local hole in the wall two in one book store and cafe called ‘Novels and Noodles’. You were slurping on some noodles when she first walked in. Your eyes flickered to hers for a moment, but then you went back to eating and paying no mind. A seat was open opposite you that she soon took upon herself to occupy, yet still, you didn’t bother attempting small talk. Back then, you became more reserved and cautious of those around you. He being the sole cause of it.

“Have an interest with vampires?”

After one last loud ‘slurp’ of a noodle, you pushed your now empty bowl aside and dabbed your mouth with a napkin before speaking. Bookmarking your page in the book you were reading, ‘Vampires for Dummies’, you then folded your hands on top of it and looked at her, fully.

Her style stood out the most to you. It was very gothic, yet girly. Mainly black, with subtle bursts of color here and there. Kinda like how you liked to dress when you weren’t wearing horror franchise merchandise. She had a few extra piercings in her ears where a small silver, slender dagger hung off a chain from her left ear. A necklace of a silver cross dangled surreptitiously between the exposed cleavage of her breasts due to the low cut neckline of her shirt as she leaned towards you with her elbows on the table, hands flat. A variety of rings were on her fingers, but one always stood out to you, cause it looked like a family crest you would see from the medieval days.

“I do, do you?”

“You could say that. Do you believe in ghosts?”

“I don’t have the ability of seeing them like Cole Sear, but I do believe in the idea of an afterlife.”

“I see dead people.”

You gave a snort at her reference, especially since she made an effort to sound small and scared to recite the line, leaning her body even more towards yours to the point of no longer sitting in her chair and rather fully bending in half over the table so you can hear her whisper it clearly.

She gave a light cackle of laughter as she plopped herself back down in her chair, her smile wide with mischief and eyes full of trouble. It was then that you knew you would get along well. Nothing was suspicious about her then, but now you wish you did ask the question that was on the tip of your tongue. Maybe you wouldn’t be as shocked as you were right now.

Jules atleast had the decency to play the part of a sympathetic human being, but you knew she found the whole thing entertaining, if not for the slight twitch of the curve of her lips that she tried to conceal with her hand over her mouth.

“Can we start at the beginning? Please? Like what the fuck happened the night of Halloween?”

“Well, you know I left with Jungkook.”

“Yes, well aware, thank you. But what happened after that?”

Her once playful demeanor turned into a more closed in one. Her smile dropped, flipping upside down into a frown. Her eyes became hollow as she stared at you, yet right through you at the same time. For a minute, she actually did look human.

“He took me to that cemetery that’s a few streets away, I can’t remember the name–,” her brows furrowed as she genuinely tried to remember it. You decided to help her out.

“Pearly Gates?”

She snapped her fingers, pointing at you to indicate you were right.

“That’s the one. We were–,”

You put a hand up, dumbfounded look on your face.

“Wait, wait, wait. You willingly went with him to a cemetery so late at night? You didn’t see that as some kind of red flag?”

She chooses to ignore you completely in favor of continuing the story. She knows you’re not wrong, she should’ve seen the multiple red flags, but by the time her rose colored glasses were removed – it was too late.

“We were strolling through gravestones for almost 10 minutes, then he made us stop at this above ground mausoleum that was located near the back. I remember thinking the design was so beautiful. It blew my mind the amount of intricate detail that was used on it, even though it was centuries old.”

For a few minutes she got lost in explaining the design in vivid details, and though you agreed with her completely, you were getting impatient.

“Right. Yes. Sounds amazing. And then?”

She pauses midway through her spiel to give you a piercing glare, but obliges your request.

“He had a key. We went inside. We made out. He’s really skilled with his–,”

“I do not need those vivid details, thank you.”

She just shrugs you off with a sinister smirk painted on her lips.

“I thought he was going to leave a hickey with the amount of pressure I was feeling against my neck, but before I knew it his teeth were sinking into me and surprisingly I didn’t care.”

You blanched at her words.

“Uh, what?”

“Honestly? Yeah, it hurts at first. But eventually it just feels so fucking good.” Her voice gradually turns light and airy at the end of her statement, eyes glossing over as if she’s reliving the moment right there in front of you.

A feeling grows within you at her reaction. Jealousy. It was stupid, it was illogical, but there it was. Casually growing within you, and soon, it’ll take over and blossom into a flower of chaos. You’re sure of it. For now, it was but a vine, but as it curls around your insides and slithers it’s way towards your heart, thorns prick and dig in to ensure a home within you.

“That’s when she came. Your roommate. Knocked on the side of the threshold to announce herself, twirling a wooden stake in one hand, and the other was placed on the hilt of what looked to be a knife that was latched in a sheath on her belt loop.”

Her breathing began to pick up, eyes now downcast on the table in front of you. For the first time since she started talking, you felt your own sympathy for the newly turned vampire. She didn’t ask for this, that much was certain. The only question that remained was as to why Jungkook decided to turn her – or rather what occurred to spur the life altering decision.

Offering a moment of solidarity between you both, you place one hand over hers on the table. If she’s consoled by it, she makes no move to show, though she does describe the events in morbid detail.

“She was so fast, aiming the stake for Jungkook. That much so, it didn’t register to either her or I when the stake missed Jungkook, who was gone in a flash it felt like, and instead sunk in right below my breast.”

Your eyes widened. You stayed silent.

“As I looked at her, she showed no remorse. Not an ounce. At least Jungkook had the decency to show some semblance of guilt. Probably why he ended up turning me after their little fight was over and she fled, couldn’t handle the fact that an innocent life was taken in place of his. Whatever it was, as much as I appreciate the gesture of goodwill–,”

Her voice quieted, eyes remained downcast as she spoke her next words with eerie confidence and absolute truth.

“I wish he had just left me to die.”

A sharp inhale could be heard from your end as you squeeze her hand to comfort her in the only way you as a human know how.

“She only used the stake that night, correct? Not the knife?”

She finally tears her gaze from the splintering wood to stare at your curious ones.

“Yes. Just the stake. Why?”

“Fuck.”

You let go of her hand in favor of running yours through your hair anxiously. It causes Jules to now stare at you in curiosity.

“Why are you so worried about the knife, y/n?”

You bite your lip, contemplating on whether or not you can actually divulge such a truth, then think, fuck it.

“There’s a bloody knife hidden in a dusty ass shoebox underneath my bed right now and I have no remembrance of how it came into my possession or why there’s even blood. Safe to say, I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“You think you actually have the gall to murder someone? Or do you believe it’s the same knife as your vampire hunter roommate?”

“The latter, hopefully. But if you didn’t see her use it, that begs the question on if she used it later on that night, or I did.”

“That’s quite the conundrum you’re in, y/n.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Blowing out a puff of glacial air, you glance at the lock screen on your phone that’s been laying on the table next to you the entire time. Not once has it gone off, but when you tap the screen and see Jungkook’s fangy smile, does your heart drop into your stomach.

Working up the nerve, you once again look across into the eyes of Jules.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

Her shoulders raise as she lets out her own puff of air, her body going lax with indifference.

“No idea. Woke up in his house, he gave me some lessons on how to be a good vampire for a couple of days, then left on some kind of quest–,” she puts air quotes up. “–his words not mine. Gave me your address and showed me a picture of you incase I wanted some company that knew about vampires. Then promised he would be back soon and to behave.”

“How did you know the person who attacked you was my roommate then?”

“Oh, he told me. He didn’t sound surprised with her appearance though. It’s like they had some sort of familiarity with each other as they fought. Like they could predict each other’s moves. It was weird.”

“What the fuck.”

You were thoroughly confused. How the hell could they know each other and not tell you?

“That’s what I’ve been saying from the moment I was reborn, as Jungkook so poetically spewed at me.”

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

After your epiphany of a talk with Jules, who swore up and down she wouldn’t go on a killing spree in your small town, you found yourself once again walking back home. Instead of the short, creepy, dark forest route — you opted for the long way home surrounded by various mom and pop outlet stores and eateries.

Big mistake. You should’ve known that being from your small town and daring to venture near a popular hangout strip of said town would promote the dreaded small talk to occur with people you’d rather avoid at the moment.

“Y/N!”

You pretend to not hear the owner of the voice in hopes they’ll leave you alone, picking up your pace. It does nothing to dissuade them from getting closer and using one of their long, lanky, arms to swivel around your shoulder and veer your short frame towards their broad chest. Your feet tangle in the process, and you lean more into the figure in hopes of regaining your footing sooner rather than later.

Their other arm joins the first to fully envelope your body with theirs in a now tight hug, something they’re famously known for. That and–

They pull away enough for you to inhale a good amount of fresh air, before your lips feel a chaste pressure against them. The feeling is light and feathery, then it’s gone just as quick as it arrived. A boxy smile is now taking up your entire line of vision and you internally groan at the male before you, Taehyung — your ex.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, y/n! How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know. Chilling, killing.”

He lets out an exaggerated bellow of laughter that he leans his whole body backwards to get into. You take the chance to slither out of his hold and gain a few feet of sweet, sweet distance. You purse your lips, only half joking with your statement, since you’re still not sure what the story is behind the bloody knife.

“Ever the horror fanatic. You haven’t changed one bit, y/n.”

“Nope.”

“When Jimin told me that you hung out at a party, I must say, I was very surprised. Never thought you would step foot in one since you didn’t seem interested in them when we were dating.”

Jimin. Right. Though your ex left town years ago, even before the incident, he makes a point to come back every now and then to visit his dear friend. Maybe this meeting can be fruitful for you after all. You just have to endure his touchy, feely personality for a little while longer.

“Yeah, well. You know better than anyone that people change, Taehyung.”

His smile is still present on his face, but it becomes more tight, losing its previous sincerity. He clears his throat and goes to talk when he’s interrupted by another voice you recognize.

“Leave y/n alone, Taehyung. She doesn’t want to hear about your ridiculously expensive travel expeditions.”

You can see Taehyung’s face clearly annoyed when he rolls his eyes at the comment made on his lifestyle. It takes all you have not to laugh, biting your lip to prevent the smile that wanted to make it’s debut at the male’s displeasure. Taehyung turns sideways to make some kind of snarky, yet good natured retort back and thus shows your savior in all his glory.

Min Yoongi. One half of the truth that occurred that Halloween night. Maybe he could help shed some light on the shadowed memories of your mind.

Yoongi makes a point to step inbetween you both, hands firmly tucked into his black windbreaker. His medium length long hair whips back and forth for a moment when the wind kicks up, leaves caressing your feet and ankles due to the strong gust. Some even float across your face that you subconsciously follow with your eyes until it becomes one with the night sky.

It’s not until Yoongi addresses you with a warm hand on your shoulder blade, does your attention get diverted back. Thankfully, Taehyung is long gone, presumably within the confines of one of the many stores around you.

“You feeling okay, y/n?” His voice is both the usual monotone, yet there’s a hint of warmth within the question, as if he’s genuinely concerned with your well being.

It takes you a moment to digest, then repress the urge to lay everything on the poor, unsuspecting guy. He doesn’t need to get dragged into your shitty problems.

“I’m uh, good. Thank you.”

You try to sound convincing, you do. But he sees right through the minuscule tremble in your voice and narrows his almond shaped eyes into yours.

“You’re a terrible liar. You know that?”

A nervous grin appears, and you hug yourself in an attempt to play it off. He was always too keen on reading nonverbal cues, being ever the silent one for as long as you’ve known him. Him preferring to talk with gestures and grunts.

“Did they do anything to you?”

Your brows furrow in confusion, head tilting to the side.

“Who are they?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No…? Should I?”

He runs the hand that was once on your shoulder, now through his silky black hair. He puffs his cheeks for a second, then let’s it go.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go with them. But your friend was with them so I thought–,” he scuffles his foot on the wet cobblestone beneath you in aggravation.

“What friend, Yoongi?”

“I’m not good with names, uhm. Veronica? Vicky?”

“Valerie.”

“Her. Yes. She was with these guys who were all dressed in the same black garb and wore this white mask, it was weird. She was the only girl, but didn’t seem intimidated in the least bit by them. And now that I think about it..,”

You may have been physically in front of him, but in your mind you were far away. Men in black, with white masks? The only image that fits that description for you is one from your nightmares. You can feel your heart rate increase, and it takes everything in you not to break down in front of Yoongi.

“…neither did you, y/n. Actually, you went more than willingly. What made me cautious for your safety was the knife that your friend was brandishing so haphazardly in front of your face as she waved bye to us and you all were gone.”

“Knife? Like, a real knife? Not a prop?”

He nods his head in answer before explaining his reasoning.

“Would’ve thought it was fake, had it not been for the glare that caught my eye and reflected back on your face.”

“Huh, that’s quite–,”

“Horrifying?”

“Fun.”

He deadpans at your joke.

“Kidding! It’s all good. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“Y/N–,”

You take a step back, shooting finger guns at him.

“Gotta jet. But it was nice talking with you. See you around!”

Before he can utter a reply, your figure becomes nothing but a dot in the distance until he loses sight of you completely. He lets out a low exhale, face void of emotion. You didn’t give him the chance to tell you one small, minor, detail from that night.

That right before you left with the group, he could swear that your eyes flashed this mixed shade of your usual color and red.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

“What a fucking day.”

You mumble face down in your pillow as you ungracefully threw yourself on your bed, having finally made it back home to the safe confines of your bedroom without running into anyone else. Not even your roommate, who seems to be out and about, and for that, you’re grateful. Lord knows you’re not good at acting.

“Tell me about it. What took you so long to come back home?”

Your head instantly shoots up and you lock eyes with a welcomed intruder who seems to have made themselves comfortable on your reading nook, a decent sized book held in one hand lazily as he flips the page with a bored expression. His focus is on the words, his eyes moving back and forth as he reads.

“You little shit.”

Your hostile tone is what causes his eyes to flicker to yours in amusement, one brow arching in question. Bookmarking the page, he closes the book gently, laying it on the window sill next to him before slowly standing up to his full height. You scramble to your own feet, standing on the bed.

When he gets close enough, you flying squirrel yourself at him, him catching your body effortlessly. Your legs hook around his waist, arms securing around his neck as you bury your face into his cool skin. Your words are muffled as you speak, and he can’t hear you clearly when you berate him.

“What was that? I don’t speak mumble, y/n.”

His voice is teasing, as he mindlessly and ceremoniously breathes in your comforting scent with closed eyes. Oh, how he’s missed this.

How he’s missed you.

When you break away enough to be face to face with him, he’s surprised to see tears streaming down your face. His once playful exterior turns into one of concern, his mouth opening to question your current state, but there’s no need when you explain in detail what’s been going on the last few days.

He takes it all in, all the while maneuvering you both to your bed where your butt still rests on his closed legs. His hands now find purpose in cupping the sides of your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears as they come. When you finish, and the tears slowly dry, does he speak.

“I guess now is a good time as any to come clean.”

“Jungkook? What do you mean?”

“About your roommate, your best friend, Valerie.”

You don’t miss the way he sharpens his tongue when he says the words, and you wonder if he’s jealous, or just downright loathes her.

“Yes, that would be fantastic.”

“We should get more comfy, it’s gonna be awhile.”

He then goes on to explain how their paths initially crossed. It was long before you ever came into the picture. Back then, she wasn’t alone in her pursuit of him and rather preferred to hunt in a group. Much to your dismay, he confirms Yoongi’s prior description of the people she hangs around with and what they wear. It makes your breathing hitch. He notices, pausing in his rant to make sure you’re okay with him touching on the next subject of your attacker and that traumatic night. All you do is nod. He continues.

When he saw your attacker in the same outfit as the ones who hung out with Valerie, he knew that she must be closing in on his whereabouts. Something, he said, he’s been successful up until this point with concealing. It wasn’t until he caught sight of her with you at the bookstore where you first met her, that he knew positively she was back.

He never in his wildest dreams imagined that she would go so far as to use you to get closer in killing him. He wanted to believe she just wanted to make an honest friend of you, and so he made sure to only come to you on the days she was gone so as not to intervene. So long as she didn’t hurt you, he didn’t see any problems with you maintaining the friendship.

That was, until Halloween night.

She showed up with her usual minions in tow, but what he didn’t expect was for your little red riding hood costume clad figure to be standing next to her, with a knife.

Your eyes widened in horror at his next words.

“…..that’s when you stabbed me, but don’t worry, it can’t kill me obviously. And it’s already healed. What I don’t know is how she was able to control you. That is the mystery I’m currently trying to solve.”

“You’re saying that the bloody knife that I hid underneath my bed has your blood all over it?”

“Yes, but y/n, you have to realize–,”

It physically pains him when you tear yourself away from him as if he’s a raging fire and you just got third degree burns. Even more when you place yourself as far away from him as possible with the guiltiest look on your face he’s ever seen anyone wear.

His eyes soften, and he cautiously gets up to walk close to your shaking form.

“Y/N, love–,”

A broken whimper comes from you, and if he had a heart, it would be split in two at this point.

“It’s not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, I’m not mad at you. And I’m fine. See?”

He shrugs his jacket off to then unbutton his long sleeved dress shirt. Sliding his right arm out of the material, he showcases his now bare chest to you. You inch closer and he grabs your extended hand to place it on the spot right above his heart. The skin there is flawless, no blemish in sight. Even though your fingers still glide over his cooled skin and you can feel the truth in his words, you believe your eyes are just deceiving you, letting you see only what you want to see in order to keep you sane.

“This is where it went in, and let me once again reiterate that it was. Not. You.”

His hands are on your shoulders, lightly shaking you. His voice is firm, yet soft.

“I know my y/n wouldn’t hurt a fly–,”

“I own a fly swatter and have murdered millions of fly families.”

He ignores you.

“–nonetheless me. Just like I would never hurt you. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to prevent them from using you.”

“I’m sorry, koo.”

Your voice is small, so small, it’s a good thing he has very good hearing or he wouldn’t have heard your sorrowful apology. It makes his undead heart weep.

“Baby, come here.”

He pulls you taught against his chest and you take solace in his embrace. As he sways you both back and forth, you know you should be focused on solely him, but your mind can’t help but wander to forbidden, repressed territory.

It only makes you press further into him until you both are essentially one, your shaking increasing as well as the sound of your muffled sobs. Later, you’ll apologize for getting his shirt all wet and throw it in the dryer to make dry.

A loud slamming of the front door is what ceases your movement, your breathing. A voice echoes throughout your apartment and your fear only heightens.

“Y/N! You home, girl? I got this new horror movie that just went straight to DVD and plenty of snacks to fill our bellies!”

Her footsteps quiet, before becoming louder as she decreases the distance between the living room and yours. You can even hear the jingle of her metal chain belt she chose to wear today, the clinking only making the weight in your chest that much more prominent.

You and Jungkook look at each other.

Valerie was home, with Jungkook in your room.

Shit.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

taglist; @hoseokteardrop, @thunderstormsandrainbows, @tea4sykes, @slinekyu, @dif-imagines, @thedarkwinterrose, @whipwhoops, @copycat-namjesus, @misteriouskitty, @kakasuka, @angieluvstae, @bangtanxcoffee, @han-nah-banana, @djasheyash99, @bex-92br, @noonas-magicshop, @bobakkoo, @scuzmunkie, @girl8890, @ellavyuubts, @hopeoncrackkk, @jk-190811, @yoongimetita7

I apologize for those I couldn’t tag for some reason, but I hope you still see this somehow.

Anyways, did you expect that twist?? Let me know your thoughts 💭

496 notes · View notes

pemprika · 1 year

Text

hnk ch. 100 thoughts (spoilers)

Making a full-on separate post because I thought there was a lot to draw from in this recent chapter... I needed to document it, so here is my veryy long thought bubble on hnk 100:

The chapter felt like a depiction of Phos in transition to accepting themself and adapting to a new phase of peace that they hadn’t experienced before. While young Phos had a carefree life, they were perpetually stuck feeling useless, never satisfied with the way they lived, and gradually lost all their friends, selfhood, and purpose.

It’s a little difficult to emotionally match the pacing of the story considering how often the series goes on hiatus now, but note that Phos had only recently come to terms with their own flaws and the reasons why everything ended up the way it did. They had a wish to be happy, and meeting these lifeforms allowed them to realize the meaning of their existence and be more content with it.

That poetic verse was introspective and contemplative. Rather than placing worth based on certain levels, like the gems’ hardness levels or Lunarians’ caste system, these rudimentary rocks perceive that all life is made equal. For thousands of years, gems tied their own value to a designated role, and if they couldn’t fulfill it, they devalued their existence. We saw a lot of perspectives throughout Phos’ journey, including how Rutile “failed” as a doctor for being unable to fix Padapradscha on their own, or how Dia “failed'' to live up as a diamond with refined fighting skills compared to their rivaled counterpart. Again, these are just flawed traits passed down from their human predecessors and the curse of immortality.

The chapter ending conveyed a hopeful conception that all things, primitive or refined, come from the same place (nature). I struggled to connect the details mentioned in ch 97 before, but it gave us sooo much foreshadowing to this new world. Dr. Ayumu said that, “the inorganic things that we had been using for ourselves will soon have a world of their own'', alluding that these little guys that Phos met are the new world.

Interesting how Dr. Ayumu wanted Adamant to “build the bridge” and Phos to “burn the bridge” in order to create this “beautiful, rational world” to be a more freeing and less destructive place, and refresh the Earth to avoid relying on human values and qualities to stay self-fulfilled.

I was talking with @/mlkinis who brought up an interesting theory of using rocks in this new arc to symbolize the reversion of materialism. The rocks, elements derived from basic nature, have vastly different virtues compared to the gems, a class of refined minerals that developed a habitual routine of upkeep socially and culturally. While gems are also made from the Earth, they are perceived as high-value and are often polished to be artificially beautiful.

One Buddhist principle reflects on detaching oneself to worldly possessions and desires, such as wealth, in order to attain inner peace, and it seems that having these primitive rocks is a representation of Phos “letting go” of the gem society, which may be another way of showcasing that the world is returning back to life as the way it once was, and that Phos is on a path to attaining ultimate happiness. I’m wondering if Dr. Ayumu’s line, “When you cross that bridge, burn it” refers to Phos leaving their suffering behind as they’re going forth to being happy in this new world that is coming to be...

Anyway, upon reading the passage, along with meeting the sentient rocks and hearing its rock friend sing the verse, I felt like Phos reconciled with their own self and existence, and melted from feeling at peace 🥺😭!! Thank you, Ichikawa as always… This was a very cool and comforting chapter for me.

#hnk #hnk spoilers #hnk 100 #houseki no kuni #very very introspective read between the lines kind of chapter #thank you for reading!!#the pacing of the story has been a little wacky considering how many hiatuses it's been going through #you often forget the context of previous chapters... it can get a little hard to piece together #i'd love to hear other peoples' thoughts too =)

374 notes · View notes

king-paimon · 1 year

Text

Houseki no Kuni Chapter 99 Thoughts: Chasing Unrealized Wishes

Hello everyone. I hope you are doing alright. These past few months have been strenuous in many parts of the world and I hope you are all doing alright and staying safe.

To be honest, I didn’t expect to see the latest chapter of Houseki no Kuni so soon. I thought it wouldn’t be until December that we’d see another chapter, but this was an interesting surprise to see today.

I just finished reading the chapter and I’m going to be honest with you: I think I liked it more than I thought I would. It’s funny because not much happened in this chapter; it was mainly dialogue between Phos and the new rock lifeform. But the revelations that Phos made through this simple conversation was what really did it for me. I’ll try to elaborate on this a little more.

I must also say, after what happened in the last chapter, Ms. Ichikawa has once again did a good job subverting my expectations when it comes to her story telling. Whether it’s a good subversion or not... that’s up to you. For now, I’m currently leaning on it being “good.” I’ll also talk about this a little in this post.

Anyways, this post will be much shorter than my long posts because despite me liking the chapter (for the most part, I didn’t have much to talk about here. Sorry that it won’t be as in-depth like I normally write them. This may change in time, so I’ll add more to this post some time later if I make new revelations. For now, I hope this is good enough.

As always, please feel free to share your thoughts. Here we go!

Phos: I will never be satisfied

There are many things I liked about this interaction, but the following pages are the ones I want to focus on. Here’s Phos, who’s offering the new rock all things they believed they needed to thrive in this new world. Limbs, so the new rock can move at their own convenience. Eyes and ears, so they see and hear the world around them.

But the rock didn’t need those things. The rock is content with what they had and didn’t have any desire for more. The rock knows what it is and is aware of it’s imperfections and limitations, but that doesn’t matter to it. They’re happy the way they are.

An exact opposite to Phos, and Phos realizes this.

And it’s here that Phos makes these realizations: They never really realized what they really wanted and why. And because of that, Phos was never going to feel fulfilled, no matter what they gained or sacrificed. They were driven by their knowledge and their ever evolving desires, but they all came at great costs to them and everyone around them. They could have turned back at any point, but they didn’t. They kept pushing and pushing, even when it meant destroying themselves and everything they once knew. Yes, it was all orchestrated by Aechmea, but Phos still kept the momentum, even when they knew they were being used and manipulated. It didn’t matter to Phos because to them, they were making progress towards something they thought they wanted, even though that “something” never truly comes to fruition in the way Phos originally expects.

So because they never really figured out what they wanted, Phos was never going to be satisfied with anything, no matter what they’d do. They always strived for more and even when they thought it was enough, it was never enough. One can even say that while some of Phos’s past actions had selfless intentions, they are also driven by lowkey, insatiate selfishness for an unmaterialized and intangible goal. This endless pursuit costed everything, and now Phos has nothing left. Part of me thinks that’s what Phos also realized here.

Now, I can see how some fans may feel conflicted about this revelation. I haven’t seen the posts yet, but I can imagine some seeing this as Ms. Ichikawa backtracking the character development Phos had until that point and may even see the author somewhat condemning Phos in some way. For those of you who feel this way or don’t agree with what was said in the chapter or my post, please feel free to share.

(And please let me know if I’m reaching; I was trying to think of the possible reasons why someone may not agree with what transpired in the chapter and I could be overthinking here)

Regardless of what fans may think of this chapter, this is a very bold admission for Phos to make. But I think this revelation needed to happen. Heck, this conversation as a whole needed to happen for Phos because they needed to hear this new point of view, especially from someone/something who was not directly part of the past events. Why? Because even after the dust had settled and the original source of Phos’s suffering is no longer there, I don’t think Phos would have ever realized they were in yet another never ending cycle of personal suffering.

Sometimes a complete outsider’s perspective is all one needs to get the big picture and helps one appreciate the little things that were once overlooked. And what a better option to get that perspective from than a specimen who is both similar and nothing like you. This interaction, even though it ends with Phos having a bittersweet mentality about everything, I think this interaction was lovely and helped with their character development in more ways than one. I’m sure it’ll care on to the next chapter. Speaking of next chapter...

Edit (I wanted to quickly add this after rereading the end of the chapter): I was thinking about Phos and the rock’s comments about the white dwarf star and I needed to double check my research on the lifespan of stars. A white dwarf is one of the final stages a star can go through when it depletes its fuel. If that dwarf is the original sun, that means it’s going to “die” and become a black star. I wonder if this little tidbit is intended to be foreshadowing for what will happen to the Earth and to add onto the many symbolisms of this story. Please let me know what you think!

The Story From Here On Out: What happens now?

It’s funny how a few predictions I and several others had made in the past have somewhat come true in this chapter, though clearly not in the way I’d expected:

Phos being the one left behind in some way

Phos finding new gems/ specimens and starting a new society

Phos taking over Adamant’s old position in more ways than one

Phos will have a bittersweet end to their story (Still to early to call but everything is leading to this direction)

After the last chapter, I didn’t think anything of these old predictions to happen because honestly, I wasn’t sure if Phos was even going to still exist after their prayer with how it all looked. I’m glad and sad that Phos still existed afterwards. But now the question is... what happens now?

Will Phos continue to find other rock or inorganic life forms to create a society with? Or will they let them just exist in their own way, just like their new rock companion? And will Phos just continue to exist without any reason or goal anymore? Who knows.

But I think now that the remaining human remnants are gone and Phos no longer has direct connections to them, Phos will now properly be able to decompress and reflect. This will not be like the times before where Phos was completely alone for thousands of years or buried alive or left in a coma. This time, Phos isn’t alone and is with a being who offers them a much needed fresh perspective. I mean, this simple conversation was able to help Phos in a unique way. Maybe future conversations with this rock and any other species Phos comes across will help them more. They might be able to find a new happiness where they are now.

(Also, isn’t it funny how this rock lifeform that barely knows Phos showed more care to Phos than most of the past characters that grew up with Phos? I’m not surprised)

Wow. This story really went in directions I didn’t think they’d go in. I reread the first chapters of the series and yeah, if I were to go back in time and reread the story from start to this, I wouldn’t have predicted most if not all the events that happened. (BTW: The blackout out pages in this chapter were a very cleaver call back to the first chapter. Someone else made a post about it and I thank you for making the connection)

But beyond the small predictions I just made, I don’t know where else the story can go from here. And I can’t help but think it won’t go on for much longer. With how everything is paced and the fact that the 100 chapter will be released next month, I honestly think this story is going to end there. I know many people believe that it’ll end on chapter 108 because that number is relevant in Buddhism and maybe they’re right. But I just wonder... what else could happen? Despite the many loose ends that have been mentioned by myself and many others, I don’t think they can be resolved now. Maybe Ms. Ichikawa has another plot twist up her sleeve somehow. I don’t know. I’m not going to think too hard about this right now.

But one thing’s for certain though; this crazy ride of a story is almost over and I’m still sticking to it to the very end because I need to see how it all ends. There are still many things I feel iffy about when it comes to some of Ms. Ichikawa’s decisions with this story, including characterization and pacing. But despite my criticisms, I still enjoy this story and even if the ending doesn’t meet my expectations, I know I won’t regret staying with it to the end. I know not everyone feels the same way, but to each their own.

Sorry that this post isn’t as insightful as my past posts. Maybe I’ll come up with a follow up post later after having more time to think about it. Anyways, thank you for reading and please feel free to share your thought! Stay safe!

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #HNK #LOTL #hnk spoilers #lotl spoilers #hnk meta #hnk phosphophyllite #hnk phos #hnk thoughts #hnk theories #HNK theory #hnk manga #hnk manga spoilers #hnk chapter 99 #hnk chapter 98 #Story Predictions #haruko ichikawa

384 notes · View notes

phosphorus-noodles · 2 months

Text

Hello there, friend.

I see you have found my blog. My deepest condolences. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy your stay here! ^^

Here's a link to a page where you can learn everything there is to know about me!

. . .

No? Not satisfied? Back for more? Well then, here's an easier breakdown for you:

Call me Pho!

My pronouns are she/they + bonus prns if you want. Don't always vibe with labels because the thing with labels is that they Change Often, but tumblr decided that I’m aroace so that’s the closest you’ll get I think 👍

I mostly post about MCYT (Empires, Hermitcraft, Life Series, etc), but there's some multifandom stuff sprinkled in there as well. Lately I've been consumed by dunmeshi, so there's that too.

I'm the admin of the @bad-traffic-smp-ideas blog! Come check it out, we have fun <3

I'll occasionally reblog religious things, as I am religious. I currently don't tag for it (or tag for most other things for that matter) but if you ask politely I'd be happy to ^^

Legally, I'm an adult, so if you're one of the "18+ dni" people, don't follow! (Adult content levels are typically pretty low, though.)

We're a diagnosed DID system, but it's not all that relevant to what we post here (except for when alters are being silly on main) so we don't talk about it a lot lol, but collective name is Noodles and collective pronouns are they/them if you're wondering! (pronouns.cc <- sys intro thing)

I have a sideblog for more personal and sys-related things that mutuals + friends from discord + whoever I deem worthy enough can follow. If you think you're one of these people, dm to ask for it :)

I also have a sideblog where I'll reblog all my art from here. It's a wip, but it'll be tagged here when it's done being set up ^^

Don't get us involved in discourse, we don't care.

[Sona ref coming soon, promise]

(Tag system + more under cut!)

“pho.posts” - my original posts!

“pho.asks” - asks for me :3c

“pho.reblogs” - reblogs from other people

"pho.saves" - me saving things for later

“pho.doodles” - my art :)

"pho.writes" - my (occasional) writing lol

"pho.crochets" - what it sounds like, I like to crochet!

"pho.polls" - occasional poll idk

“leftover.noodles” - self reblogs, or something like that

"butterflies.and.wind.chimes" - au tag! tl;dr it's Empires s1 but Oli TheOrionSound is there and him and Joel are goofy together ^^ (<- if I'm talking about an au, 95% of the time it's this one)

. . .

If you made it to the very end, drop a like! I love you <3

#wake up babe new pinned post dropped #pho.posts #pinned

11 notes · View notes

cloloveflower2 · 5 months

Text

Chapter 2

Ryusei pov:

As soon as we heard sakuya is back we rushed into the classroom, honestly we had so many questions like why did he suddenly change schools and then come back but most of all why couldn't anyone remember his face. Every time I try to remember how he looks like my head start to hurt like crazy and there is this ringing sound that feels like it won't go away we you think about it.... so it was easier to just not think about at all....

The second we walked in and saw his face I was relieved, koyuki looked relieved as well.....That's right this is his face...this is how he looks like....why did we forget....

" hey Jackass where have you been don't just leave and come back so suddenly without saying anything , you could have at least answer your pho- "suddenly a feeling of drowsiness took over me, I looked over at koyuki and he did not look that well but as soon as it came the drowsiness disappeared. Koyuki look at sakuya smiles and begin talking" welcome back sakuya-chan how did your visit at your relatives go, they live near the sea right? How was it did you go swimming?" It felt like he was going to keep going but was interrupted by sakuya's laughter " haha ya it was fun but I was attacked by a giant shark who tried to eat me ahh it was so scary but it's OK cause I faut it off...now how much off that was a lie ha- ouch mahiru that hurts" " shut up" mahiru said looking more annoyed that usually. Honestly this familiar scene was nice, sakuya spouting he usually nonsense and resiving a wack in the head for it by mahiru. Not that he will ever admit out loud but his glad sakuya back from his trip....that's right he just....went to visit some relatives for a while...." hey Ryusei are you just going to stand there class is going to call soon" I was snapped out off my thoughts by mahiru's usually yelling, geez he can be over the top some times "geez alright no need to yell" I yelled back as I take my seat, lot long after the teacher arrives and starts the lesson and I try to pay attention to what his saying key word try. " hey ryusei hey" i heard a soft whisper next to me " what's up" I whispered back "you might wanna pay attention if you want your grades to improve or are you content with that sad report card of yours" my seat mate laughed under their breath " oh shut up emma !!!!"

#servamp #servamp koyuki #servamp mahiru #servamp ryusei #servamp sakuya

2 notes · View notes

ja3hwa · 3 years

Text

Jongho || Not As Innocent

Word count: 1.7k

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Making out, A lot of swearing, Bite marks, Scratch marks, Dirty talk, Dom Jongho, Sub Fem Reader, Riding, Eating out, If I missed something let me know.

Notes: I think this is the longest fic I've done and I wasn't planning on it being long but oh well ahah.

Hotness. The need for touch so unbearable it could hurt. The thought of your boyfriend slips in and out of your mind. His touch, his breath against your hot skin. Oh, how you ache for him. His lips, his body, his deep beautiful eyes. The perfectness, gentleness, his love.

"Argh," You sigh out flicking your hands in a huff onto the soft mattress. You feel so lonely. You said to the boys you wanted to retire to bed because you were tired. Even though you all were on holiday at the beach house, the day was filled with excitement and so much sun, leaving you exhausted from the heat.

But ever since you headed up to the room all you could do was stare at the plan ceiling. The boys are most likely still awake, given San and Wooyoung were determined to get late-night take out, even though it's almost twelve in the morning.

Tossing and turning you try your hardest to sleep. The soft pillows and comforter suddenly feeling hard and no longer pleasing. Huffing again, the thought of your boyfriend hits you.

Out of all times, now?

You thought, annoyed at yourself. Finally getting out of the bed, grabbing your shirt that you threw off earlier and pants following. You put them back on so you were no longer in your underwear.

Seeing all the boys outside, relaxing in the summer breeze. Drinks and food all over the table, as they enjoy themselves finally getting a break from promotions. You open the glass sliding door stepping outside quickly. The boys all eyed you suddenly at you appearance, having their few words slipping out with chuckles.

"Oh look who's still awake."

"Did you sleep already?"

"Couldnt stay away from us could you."

You chuckle at there remarks, never cessing to amaze how cheeky they could be. You move swiftly to the back of Jongho's chair, snaking your arms around his neck laying you palms on his chest. Noting Wooyoungs goofy 'eww' comment, you whisper into Jonhgo's ear.

You want to be sexy, blunt even. Not something you're used to, cause let's face it you would be considered the shyest person ever. You can't even order food without mildly panicking. But this time you wanted to be confident.

"Baby, If you don't come and fuck me right now, I might go crazy." You almost moan out into his ear, feeling heat rush through your body. The drink Jongho was drinking quickly came back up at the sound of your sweet voice in his ear, choking out. He leans forward, letting you slip away from him before walking back inside with a simple 'night boys' pursuing.

"You okay there Jongho?" Yunho pats the poor maknae's back while he cough's up a 'yes'. He has never seen you act like this. You were not one to usually to ask for sex or anything in that matter. But now, all he could think of was what you said was really hot.

"What was that about?" Mingi asks.

"Yeah, what did she say that made you choke?" Wooyoung laughed.

Jongho finally managed to stop coughing, taking a sigh of relief. He looks up to see all his members waiting for an answer.

"Uh, I..uh. I'm just gonna go." Jongho suddenly jumps up, giving a fake stretch.

"You know long day, kinda tired..." His voice trailed off. All the boys give eyeing stares at each other, realising the situation that is now occurring.

"Well stay safe." Hongjoong laughs.

"Treat her well." San follows.

"Don't break anything!" Mingi yells.

"Hey, Use protection." Seonghwa bites.

Jongho sighs, feeling his face red and hot from embarrassment. Heading off towards his bedroom where you await for him.

'okay okay okay okay. Chill everything is fine. You just happened to ask your boyfriend to fuck you in front of all his friends. Oh god, what if they heard me!!!'

You flop onto the bed, mildly screaming at yourself into the pillow. Rolling over to look up at the ceiling.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid."

"Honey?" You hear a faint voice followed by the door opening with a creek. You sit up to see Jongho inching inside the room, quickly closing the door, locking it in the process.

"What was that all about." He asks crawling onto the bed towards you. You sit up, leaning against the headboard."

"I- Uh. I couldn't sleep. all I could think about was you and your--" You stop mid-sentence stuttering like crazy, beginning to feel flustered.

"Mhm, it's okay honeybun. Tell me what you want." He smirks pulling you by the thighs towards him, so he can perfect wrap your legs around him while hovering over you.

"I want you..." You whisper.

"I'm sorry what was that?" He chuckles leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You laugh, hitting his chest lightly, knowing very well he is teasing.

"I want you to fuck me Jongho...Please." You beg for him. He smiles in contentment, ripping your shirt off along with his in a split second. He wastes no time pressing his body against you, connecting your lips, and grinding on you. He fumbles around taking his sweats off, before yanking your shorts off with giggles echoing throughout the room.

"I never thought you'd be such a naughty type baby. It's fucking sexy," he growled between sloppy kisses. Unclasping your bra, while nibbling your lob.

"Whispering in my ear..." He slips your panties down slowly.

"Begging for me to fuck you while my friends are around." He groans, biting your hot flesh on your neck. You let out a whimper, holding his shoulders tightly.

"Tell me what does my precious baby want," He smirks, locking his eyes with you. You take a gulp, your grip becoming tighter on his large shoulders.

"Jongie..." You slide your hands down his chest, feeling every curve and angle of his body. Pushing him lightly, indicating you wanted to sit up. He follows. You flip him slightly so you can sit on his lap. His hands place themselves on your thighs, his thumbs softly kneading your flesh.

"I want..." You bit your lip, leaning to his ear.

"I want to ride you so badly." You moan out, try your best not to retreat into his shoulder. He grabs your chin pulling you to look at him again, his slightly stunned expression quickly changes to a big smirk, griping your hips tighter.

"Anything for you baby girl." He pulls his boxers off while leaning over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom. He places the packet into your mouth while biting his lip. You look at him in confusion as he leads you down onto your back.

"Hold it there, first we gotta get you ready." He kisses your nose, lifting your thighs over his shoulders. His lips come in contact with your ankles. You moan trying your best to keep the condom in your mouth, while he bites your inner thighs getting closer to your heat.

"Jong..." You mumble, his lips finally connecting to where you need him most. He flattens his tongue taking a long strip of wetness up your slit. He sucks on your clit while one finger enters your hole.

"Jong-ahh. Please." You drop the condom out of your mouth, letting out a gasp, gripping his hair, tugging tightly. He puts another finger inside you while sitting up to look at your scrunched nose and crossed brows. He pulls out of you, heading against the headboard. You let out a whimper at the sudden loss of contact, moving up to sit on your elbows.

"Well come on baby, I'm waiting," He smirks, patting his thighs. You gulp picking up the condom and breaking it out of the packaging. You feel yourself shaking, you've never ridden him before and now here you were, sliding a condom on your strong boyfriend about to ruin yourself on his cock.

"You okay?" Sensing your nervousness, he moves a piece of hair out of your face, gently smiling at you. You nod your head with an 'I'm okay' following.

"I want to do this. I want to show you..." You line yourself up with him, slowly letting his tip, then the rest of him enter.

"I'm not as innocent as you think." You grind down making you both groan out. You start to bouncing, keeping strong movements with your hips.

"Fuck." He groans, whipping his head back, his left hand gripping your ass while the other comes up to the small of your back.

"Damn you look so sexy riding me, honey." He thrusts his hips up to meet your bouncing, causing you to let out choked moans. You almost lost your balance, falling forward onto his chest, gripping his shoulders.

"Jong, Jong... Ah, Jong." You slip his name on repeat as he thrusts up into you, spreading your cheeks, slapping them. Causing you to scream out.

"Let's switch things up." He nips at your ear, throwing you onto your back, slamming back into you, biting your neck roughly.

"AH Fuck!" You scream, gripping his back hard scratching your nails down his back, sinking into his flesh, drawing small amounts of blood.

"Fucck." He swears, his hips stuttering getting close to his own high.

"Jongh-I'm gon-ahh." You choked out, head going dizzy, body filling with heat as your high finally snaps. Kissing him you moan into his mouth as you both climax together. He slows his thrust down, kissing you slow and soft.

"You are so beautiful." He kisses your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, to your collar bone. You finally both pull away to clean yourselves up. Pulling a clean pair of panties and one of Jongho's shirts you slip under the covers.

Jongho soon comes out of the bathroom in sweats, still slightly panting from the event that was just unfolded. He smiles climbing into the bed nuzzling his head into your neck.

"You should be wild more often that was amazing." He chuckles.

"Oh shit." He sat up quickly looking over the side tables.

"I left my phone outside, I don't want the boys seeing those beautiful lingerie photos I took of you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Wait you still have those?" You blush.

"Of course, that was an amazing night. I'll be back." He hops off the bed, walking out without thinking of putting a shirt on.

"Hey guys, have you seen my phone?" Jongho opens the glass door seeing all the other males still chatting away.

"Here." Yeosang picks up the phone from the counter handing it to him.

"So did you treat her well?" San teases. They all let out small laughs. Jongho rolls his eyes at them, turning around to leave.

"Wooah you must have treated her really well, damn!!" Wooyoung screams.

"Shut up." He shakes his head leaving as soon as he can. All that was heard was heard are laughter and chuckles and any form of teasing statement fading into a distance.

"Fuck does your back hurt?" Jongho touches his back confused then recalls back to moments ago.

Yeah, Jongho was never going to live that one down.

Tag List: @yunhofingers @softforqiankun @violetwinters @kpopmademygradesgodown @lmhmh01

[If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know.]

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

633 notes · View notes

renjuseyo · 3 years

Note

if ur requests are open can i pls request Jaehyun x male reader where the reader is so drunk that he forgot that his boyfriend(jaehyun) is his boyfriend. then he asks a member if he is taken and they said yes and that will make reader to silently be sad in the corner and jaehyun asks if readers ready to go home......... andddddddd ill leaveee the rest to u hehehehe (iloveurwriting so much)

tipsy ; jaehyun

group: nct

pairing: jung yoonoh / reader (male)

synopsis: both you and jaehyun knew how much of a lightweight you were, but when has that ever stopped you?

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: implied sexual content, explicit language

i lost inspiration for this, so i hope this mess of a fic is okay anon! as always, feedback is appreciated!!

when you peek through the peephole, you expect to see the delivery man holding the package you had ordered online. instead, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the other side of the door, wrapped in a hoodie, mask, and tinted sunglasses. his disguise is pretty unnecessary given how your neighbors are mainly made up of old people who have never heard of nct, but it gets the job done.

once you’ve unhooked the chain bolt, you unlock the door and swing it open. he slightly jumps at the noise, but visibly softens when he sees you. “hey (name),” he greets, slipping off his mask and sunglasses.

“hey yourself. what are you doing here?” you ask. with how hectic his schedule has been after promotions with the nct 2020 project and working as an mc on inkigayo, you two hadn’t seen each other in weeks. though you missed him, you sympathized with the tireless hours he spent working as an idol. at least you preoccupied yourself with netflix.

he slips off his sneakers and enters your home, taking off the rest of his disguise. you close and lock the door behind you, trailing behind him. “i managed to squeak in some free time today, so i came to visit you,” he explains. he faces you with a smile, pulling you close. you subconsciously lean your head onto his shoulder, humming as he sways your bodies.

“i missed you,” you tell him, fingers ghosting his waist. he makes a noise of agreement, resting his chin on your head.

you eventually pull away, eliciting a grumble from jaehyun. contrary to popular belief, he was the clingy one of you two, always using the excuse of “you’re just the perfect size for cuddling.” “stop grumbling, jae. you’ve come so far, so it’s only fair i make you something to eat,” you tell him, making your way towards the kitchen.

he follows suit, hand grabbing at the hood of your hoodie. you stop in front of the refrigerator and open it, canvassing the food you have in there. as you debate what to make for lunch, he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes both arms around your waist. you roll your eyes, though you don’t make any movements to pry his arms off. “i can always eat something else,” he smirks.

you realize too late the implications of his comment, absentmindedly sorting through the bags of vegetables in your fridge. “do you want takeout instead then? mrs. moon from two doors down said that there’s this really good pho house near here.”

he nuzzles into your shoulder. “i’d really like to eat you,” he says as nonchalantly as one can, considering his implications. you nearly drop a bag of spinach, spluttering incoherent words as you spin around to swat his shoulder. he laughs, loud and proud, a stark contrast from the quiet, polite laugh he’s practiced.

“you’re the worst,” you hiss, reluctantly closing the fridge. he pecks your cheek, eliciting a disgusted screech from you. he leans back with a laugh before attacking your face with kisses. you shut your eyes as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. but jaehyun’s been working out, evident from his arms, and he’s always had an intense grip. when he leans away, satisfied, you flick his forehead. with how clingy jaehyun’s being, making lunch isn’t an option anymore. “i hate you.”

jaehyun eventually relinquishes his attacks, threading his fingers with yours. “you’re usually not this clingy, jae. actually, now that i think about it, you don’t flirt all too much either, much less suggest sexual innuendos. what’s the occasion?” you ask as he walks you two to your living room. he doesn’t immediately respond, flopping down onto the couch and dragging you along with him. you land on his chest with an oomph, your cheek squished against his chest.

he combs his fingers through your hair, smiling as you make a noise of approval. “well, i wasn’t going to say anything before the news outlet, but...” his smile only widens when he sees you look up at him with curious eyes; he nearly coos at how innocent you look. “a certain idol you know might make his acting debut soon~”

your eyes widen, and you quickly prop yourself up with your elbows. “what! no way!” you exclaim, jaw hanging open. jaehyun laughs at your shell-shocked reaction, though it’s a given; when you were in a mood to vent, he would always take your hand and pepper your knuckles with butterfly kisses as you ranted about how he deserved better and shouldn’t only be seen as a visual, whining about how sm failed to show his talents as a singer and an actor. well, those days are over now, he supposes.

“yes way, love. are you excited?” he isn’t sure why he asked that question, considering how shell-shocked you already look. plus, the squeal that leaves your throat and the way you throw yourself onto him is answer enough already.

“do you even have to ask? you used to send me videos of you acting out different roles because you wanted to try acting, and you always did them so well! i’m really proud of you, jae. you deserve it.”

“i’m really glad you think so, (name). do you want to hear-”

“no!” you interrupt, slapping both of your palms on his mouth. he tilts his head in confusion, surprised by your sudden outburst. “knowing you, you’re going to accidentally tell me everything, and then i’m going to know the whole story line before the show even airs!”

he’s about to refute your claims, but he can’t really considering how you’ve layered both of your palms on his mouth. plus, judging by the look you give him, he’s certain he’s going to be eating his own words sooner or later. with a sigh, he peels your palms off. "you’re no fun. can i not even tell you the name and the basic plot?”

“i’m sorry for wanting to give you ratings,” you snort. “and no. then i’ll be waiting in anticipation and will force you to tell me everything, even if you tell me you can’t because i told you before not to say anything. you can’t even give me a drop of information.” well, jaehyun supposes that is true. you’ve always been enticed by television shows; he’s personally seen you react to cliffhangers a show gives before it ultimately gets cancelled. needless to say, it isn’t a pretty sight. “this calls for celebration! we can invite the boys too... do you want it to be extravagant, or are we keeping it low key?” you ask, sitting up and reaching for your phone.

“what happened to just you and me?” jaehyun asks, batting his eyelashes with feigned innocence. “i can think of a lot more fun things we can do.”

you don’t even bat an eye; unlike earlier, you were prepared for this kind of comment. “shoving my foot up your ass sounds really fun, but unfortunately that won’t get me any food. the boys probably already knew before i did, so you’ve probably already celebrated with them... i guess we can keep it simple.”

“i’d take your foot any day,” he fires back with a heavily exaggerated moan, to which you respond with a slap on the arm.

“i’m telling johnny to bring over beer.” you’re texting a group chat with you and the other 127 members. you’re only dating jaehyun, yet sometimes it feels like you’re dating all of them with how close you are. plus, gossiping with jungwoo about your boyfriend is always fun. with him being his roommate, you both often share similar struggles.

he rolls his eyes, stretching over to wrap his arms around your waist. he peers over your shoulder to look at your screen. “please, (name). you’re the lightest lightweight i’ve ever met. who are you telling to bring over drinks? you’re like a baby.”

“fuck you.”

“i think it’s the other way around, but i’d gladly let you order me around~” he flirts.

you shove a pillow in his face as you fire off a text.

after ordering pizza, tteokbokki, and fried chicken, your dinner is nearly complete. the boys were coming over soon, with johnny being in charge of drinks, jungwoo in charge of takeout, and donghyuck in charge of entertainment. you had a nintendo switch jaehyun had gifted you two years ago, and you intended on making full use of it tonight.

(plus, you have yet to beat yuta at super smash bros. today is going to be that day.)

you had finished clearing the table for the food before you notice jaehyun’s sleeping frame on the couch. you’re about to walk over and reprimand him for being unproductive, but seeing how tired and peaceful he looks stops you. instead, you grab a blanket from your room and drape it over him.

you’re about to walk away and grab water bottles for everyone when you feel something tugging your hand. craning your neck, you smile at jaehyun’s hooded eyes laced with sleep. “c’mere,” he murmurs.

water bottles can wait, then. you pat jaehyun’s side, and he scoots over to allow room for you. as you slot yourself in his arm, spreading a leg across his, he makes a noise of satisfaction, eyes fluttering close. “someone’s tired,” you observe, pushing the mop of black bangs obscuring his eyes. “did practice run late?”

he avoids your gaze. “no, i spent the night playing uno with johnny, ten, and mark,” he admits.

you laugh. “must have been intense. i bet you were so burnt out from uno,” you sympathize with sarcasm. “but in general, don’t overexert yourself, okay? i know you’ve been busy, but you need to remember to take care of yourself.”

jaehyun nods, but a yawn rips out of his chest. you give him a knowing look, one that reads what did i say? which causes him to laugh. “yes sir,” he lazily responds.

“as tired as you may be, don’t go falling asleep on me now. the others are going to be here soon. what would they think, the guest of honor asleep at his own party?” you chuckle, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on his forehead.

he beams at the gesture. “give me more kisses and i’ll think about it,” he coaxes.

usually you don’t give in to his bratty demands, but seeing how tired he is reminds you of the accomplishments he’s achieved in the past year. a kiss is the least you could down. you lean down, breath fanning his lips, and he closes his eyes in contentment.

a few seconds pass, but the kiss never comes. when jaehyun opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see you’re no longer by his side, instead standing by the door. “that’s one way of telling a guy to come and get it,” he sighs, sitting up. he wearily rubs his eyes, blurry eyes watching you.

“sorry jae, taeil-hyung just texted saying they’re here,” you apologize. he sighs, eventually standing up after a few moments of stretching.

just as you had said, knocks resonate throughout your home, signalling their arrival. you peek through the peephole to verify their identities and sure enough, all nine other members stand outside, arms loaded. you undo the chain lock and swing the door open, greeting everyone.

“thanks for having us,” taeyong smiles, stepping into your home. everyone else echoes his message, but it comes out mumbled, like they hadn’t thought of saying anything until taeyong. the power a leader has, you suppose.

“no problem. here, let me grab some of the food.” you scurry over to jungwoo and mark, whose arms were loaded with the takeout you ordered.

as you grab a box of pizza from mark, johnny slaps you on the back. you nearly lurch forward and drop the pizza; if you had, johnny would be first on your hit list. “so jaehyun finally told you?” he asks with a grin.

“thank god. he spent days talking about ways to tell you, knowing how excited you’d be,” sicheng snorts, slipping off his shoes.

you laugh, especially when you see jaehyun spluttering in embarrassment. “you could’ve fooled me. all he did was waltz in and drop the news after he nearly fell asleep. made me feel like a proud parent and everything.”

“you may feel like one now, but wait until you watch him act. just going to be lots of cringing and teasing,” doyoung sneers, elbowing his shoulder.

yuta rolls his eyes. “like you’re one to talk, mr. lead actor.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “lead actor?!” doyoung laughs, answering your question. “good for you, hyung!”

jaehyun narrows his eyes. “why do you look more amazed at his news than mine?!”

i’m not a lightweight, you told yourself. i can handle whatever yuta throws at me, you told yourself.

you were sorely mistaken.

jaehyun notices this too, seeing you sway in your seat. he chuckles at the sight; you were never able to hold your liquor, and when you got drunk, you were quite the spontaneous drinker to deal with. one time you had drank so much that you cried over cute things, like when sicheng showed you a picture of his dogs. or the one time you were a man on a mission, flirting with all of the members. needless to say, that led to a very interested jaemin and a very pouty jaehyun.

you had initially planned on just sticking to soda, but yuta had wanted to make things more interesting and challenged you to a game of super smash bros. each time the loser lost, they would have to down a can of beer. despite your inability to hold your liquor, it activated your competitive nature. but of course, yuta is crazy good at any games he suggests, completely demolishing you with lucina. no matter which character you chose, you were just no match against him.

after several fruitless attempts, you’re seated between taeil and sicheng, who seem way too interested in the tteokbokki to notice your behavior. everyone else seems occupied, too; johnny, yuta, jungwoo, and donghyuck are playing mario kart 8, taeyong and mark are immersed in yet another one of their deep, contemplative conversations, and doyoung’s watching the whole scene unfold, supervising everyone (probably to ensure nothing ends up in flames). on the other hand, jaehyun’s sitting on your sofa, alternating between watching the four men in front of your television screaming and you in your tipsy state. he decides to stick with the latter.

eventually you lift your eyes up and make eye contact with jaehyun, who responds with a wink. seeing you flush and look away has his chest swelling with giddiness; you’re just too cute sometimes. the table isn’t far from the sofa, so he can hear any conversation that goes on there. he watches as you take another sip of your can, eyes shifting back and forth from the television and to him. you stare at him for a bit longer, eyes canvassing his face, his posture, his thoughts.

it seems sicheng notices your staring, sitting back down and nudging your shoulder. “what’s so interesting that it’s gotten your attention?” he asks, purposefully raising his voice so jaehyun can hear.

you flush at how loud he is, lazily putting a finger to your lips. “shhh, i’m staring at the pretty boy there.” you point your chin towards jaehyun, who pretends to not see. you’ve never been subtle when you were drunk, but telling you that would just lead to you loudly slurring your arguments. “do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

jaehyun nearly spits out his beer. of all the times you’ve gotten drunk, you’ve never once forgotten that you were his boyfriend - if anything, you were all too eager to prove just how much you belonged to him. he’s not sure whether to feel startled or amused.

sicheng chooses the latter, a smirk forming. “yeah, he has a boyfriend,” he tells you. jaehyun hopes you’ll realize that you’re the boyfriend in question, but seeing how you deflate like a balloon, he guesses not. he questions how much you’ve had to drink.

you slide off of your chair, pouting. “of course a guy as attractive as him has a boyfriend. i’m not surprised,” you grumble, crossing your arms. jaehyun can’t help the amused smirk that makes its way on his face. watching you envy yourself for being his boyfriend is very amusing.

sicheng must feel the same, stifling his laughter. “don’t look so bitter, (name). his boyfriend’s a good guy.”

you pout, crossing your arms. “well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” you boast, standing up.

sicheng can only watch in amusement as you stagger towards the kitchen. if only you knew how strange that statement was. “if you’re so confident about that, then what are you doing? planning on hiding in the kitchen to wallow on your sorrows?” he teases.

“i’m not!” you protest. “i’m just going to get some water because i’m dizzy as fuck and possibly cry about how single i am.” you mumble the last part, though because sicheng has uncanny hearing, he probably heard, if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

jaehyun decides it’s time to intercept, because as amusing as things were, he hoped you weren’t actually going to cry about being single, especially since you had no reason to. he stops by the dining table where taeil and sicheng are. “so i heard you and (name) were talking about me.”

sicheng snorts, rolling his eyes. “just because we said pretty boys doesn’t mean we were talking about you.”

though unaware of the topic, taeil leans in, chewing on a mouthful of pizza. “yeah, for all we know, he could be talking about me!” he chirps. he’s met with an annoyed glare from sicheng (though both of them can see him stifling his laughter), which he responds with an air kiss. typical taeil.

“well, i’m going to check up on him. i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now,” he teases. taeil looks a little too happy at the joke, whereas sicheng threatens to stab him with a fork. it’s amusing watching their reactions, considering how everyone around them already knows that they’re dating. those two just haven’t admitted anything yet.

he follows you into the kitchen, though you don’t seem to notice, too busy pouring yourself a glass of cold water. “(name),” he greets.

you jump in surprise, nearly spilling water on yourself. when you turn to face jaehyun, your confident nature immediately disappears, quickly replaced with one of bashfulness. “you know me?” you ask, in awe of how said pretty boy could possibly recognize you.

if only you knew just how well he knew you, he thinks to himself. instead, he decides to play along; you’re obviously too drunk to realize how silly this seems. “i do,” he hums, patting your shoulder. he isn’t sure if your red cheeks are from the alcohol or him, though he hopes for the latter. he never gets less prideful when you get all shy because of him.

hoping to maintain the confident facade you had earlier, you quickly clear your throat, looking away. “how can i help you?” you ask, taking a sip of your water.

“well, i was hoping if we could talk in a more... private area?” he asks.

you nearly spit out your water, eyes the size of saucers. he has to stop himself from laughing, afraid the drunk you would get the wrong impression. “just to talk, that’s all. it’s kind of loud here, don’t you think?”

the screams from the living room (which are mainly from johnny and donghyuck and the occasional ones of distress from taeyong) and the volume of the television are evidence enough, so you nod in agreement. “yeah, sure.”

“perfect. let’s go then~” jaehyun laces your fingers together before you can say anything, and your ears are practically fuming with smoke. you’re too distracted by his touch to question how he knows where your bedroom is. when you both enter your room, he flops down on your bed, patting the empty spot beside him. at this, you gasp, scandalized and very flustered. he chuckles at how shy you’ve gotten, shaking his head. “my my (name), get your head out of the gutter. we’re not going to do anything... unless you want to,” he flirts.

jaehyun never tries to take advantage of you, especially when you’re not sober. but when the sober you would throw pillows (or anything that wouldn’t actually hurt him) at him for flirting with you, the drunk you would always fire back with equally flirty remarks, or the shy you would just splutter in embarrassment. he can’t help it, spewing sweet nothings to you - you’re just too fun to mess with for him to not to, especially when you’re drunk.

reluctantly you place your water on your bedside table and lower yourself beside him, heart thumping erratically. he chuckles at how timid you are, a stark contrast from the snarky (name) that he knows so well. he turns to face you, both of your faces only centimetres apart. the smell of alcohol lingers on both of you, though it isn’t as prominent on him as it is on you. he makes a mental note to ask yuta how much you’ve had.

you squeak at how close you two are, hands flying to cover your face. “you have a boyfriend,” you whisper. you’re undeniably flustered, but you would rather die than be known as a homewrecker!

his laugh startles you, even more so when he presses a hand to the small of your back. you look like you’ve committed a heinous crime, potentially causing an attractive man like jaehyun to cheat on his boyfriend. the statement is so abusrd though, considering how you’re the boyfriend in question. “i do, you are right. he won’t be mad at me, though,” he hums, leaning in so close your noses would touch if it weren’t for the makeshift barrier you’ve made from your hands. you flush red in embarrassment, hiding your eyes behind your hands. if you make eye contact with him, you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle.

“even if he didn’t mind, i don’t think we should be doing this. i know i wouldn’t be happy if my boyfriend did this,” you whisper.

jaehyun sure is having a field day with this. you’re too flustered and worried to notice the pure look of adoration he’s giving you. “call it a hunch,” he says. “i promise you, he won’t be mad at this.”

“why?”

“you’ll find out tomorrow.” he pauses as a yawn rips out of his chest. “i’m really tired, so i’m going to sleep. the boys probably won’t quiet down on my account, anyways. you can always go back to them if you want, though,” he offers. a small part of him hopes for you to stay and cuddle with him, but judging how you’re so sure he has a boyfriend who would be absolutely devastated for literally sleeping with another man and how you have no knowledge of where you stand, he wouldn’t be surprised if you left.

what does surprise him, though, is when you stay rooted in your spot on the bed. “i’m tired, too,” you say.

jaehyun smiles so sweetly, the one that has his eyes dripping with honey, that your hands fly up to cover your face again. his boyfriend must be lucky to see that sight all of the time, you bitterly think to yourself. still, even if you’re not sure why he’s flirting with you or where you stand, you decide to savor every moment that you get to spend with him. even if you don’t really know who pretty boy is, he’s sweet and kind. plus, only a fool would cover their eyes when someone as beautiful as him lays before you.

he moves an arm to pat your thigh when he freezes in midair, remembering how he’s supposed to have a boyfriend to stay loyal to (even though he’s right in front of him). he retracts his arm and instead pulls your blanket to cover your lower bodies. “goodnight, (name),” he hums, shutting his eyes.

before jaehyun can begin the long process of trying to fall asleep, he feels you tug at his t-shirt. cracking an eye open, he sees you laying before him, staring at him with curious eyes and red cheeks. oh no, now he’s really tempted to kiss you. you’re impossibly adorable, seeing how vulnerable and curious you are. “yes?” he hums, trying to stay awake. the effects from last night’s uno matches have really begin to take a toll on him.

“i don’t think i’ve gotten the chance to ask, but may i know your name?” you ask.

jaehyun chuckles. he’s flirted with you and is even sleeping in the same bed as you, yet he’s forgotten the basic courtesy that is introductions. he didn’t think he would’ve needed it, considering how you’re his boyfriend. but then again, you’ve forgotten that you are his boyfriend. “my name’s yoonoh, but you can call me jaehyun or jae.”

no one actually calls him jae except for you. it’s a short and simple nickname that you have for him, nothing endearing. but because it’s something that only you call him, even though there isn’t a meaning to it, he’s grown fond of the way it sounds leaving your lips. which is why hearing it from anyone that isn’t you only leaves a weird taste on his tongue.

you’re so drunk you don’t even remember jaehyun, nor who he is to you, so it isn’t surprising that you stick with jaehyun instead. he doesn’t mind though, because he knows when you’re sober again he’ll hear you calling him jae and cuddling into him and doing all of the coupley things he wasn’t able to do tonight.

wow, jaehyun really is a lovesick fool. it’s only been one night of not being able to cuddle or kiss you, but he feels like he’s missed a whole eternity of them. he really isn’t sure how he’s lived before you came into his life.

for an hour, you pester jaehyun on how you two became acquainted and who you were to him. he indulged you, of course, purposefully skipping over the part of you becoming boyfriends and doing things that friends definitely didn’t do. his stories seem to be an effective way of getting you to sleep, because in the middle of a story of how a pair of swapped backpacks led to your relationship, you’re lulled to sleep, tired hands clutching onto his t-shirt.

he can only chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss on your nose. you’ll sure be in for a storm when you sober up tomorrow morning.

your jaw drops as you stare at the video on doyoung’s phone. it’s of you and sicheng, and right now you can only watch in horror as you pester him for information on the pretty boy you were so interested in last night. you have no recollection of last night’s events, though watching the video makes you glad you don’t. the problem is, the boys were there to witness them, even recording evidence of it on their phones. you’ve already seen pictures that johnny and taeyong have taken from when you and jaehyun were cuddling in your bed.

“please tell me that isn’t me,” you whisper, utterly mortified.

mark pats your shoulder in sympathy. “that’s you, all right.”

at his confirmation, you groan, burying your face in your hands. doyoung and donghyuck are cackling at your demise, with sicheng reciting your complaints word from word to a very amused johnny and yuta.

“...and then he was like well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” sicheng mimics, purposefully raising his voice an octave higher as he mocks you. out of embarrassment, you reach for a pillow on your couch and fling it at him. unlike jaehyun, he’s very good at dodging, proven when he ducks. instead, the pillow smacks yuta square in the face. he throws it back at you with even more force.

you duck, the pillow smacking an unsuspecting jaehyun. he really is horrible at dodging things - how shameful. “what the hell was that for?” he splutters, picking it up from the floor.

you turn to face him, eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. “you watched me make an utter fool out of myself, and you didn’t once try to do anything about it?” you hiss.

jaehyun frowns in confusion until doyoung dangles his phone in front of his face. when he watches the video, his face eventually contorts to one of amusement. “oh, that.”

your face is red with embarrassment. “yeah, that! like seriously? where is your loyalty? do you not care about my well being? you know how vicious these monsters can be!” you whine, gesturing at the said nine monsters behind you.

he nonchalantly shrugs, though you can see the corners of his lips threatening to curl into a smirk. “i do, but you were just too cute, seeing you all flustered. what about my own well being, huh? seeing you like that isn’t good for my heart,” he coos.

your heart leaps, but you mask it by smothering his face with a pillow. “you’re the worst,” you grumble.

“you act like you don’t like it, but i know you do~” he retaliates, albeit muffled from the pillow.

behind you two stands nine other boys, obviously unimpressed. watching you two engage in petty banter is always amusing, but not when it makes you flustered and encourages jaehyun to flirt with you like the cheesy, lovesick fool he is. “they’re so gross,” donghyuck gags.

johnny nods in agreement. “let’s get out of here before they start fucking on the counter.”

at johnny’s comment, you turn away from jaehyun so fast you swear you hear your neck crack. “do you have no filter?!” you shriek, exasperated.

with your guard down, jaehyun takes this as a chance to wrap his arms around your waist. a noise of surprise leaves your throat as he places his chin on your shoulder. “you’re so mean, (name). i liked the shy you a lot better~” he hums.

the other boys don’t even blink. “we’re going to leave now before things get bloody. good luck, (name),” taeyong says, saluting you.

jaehyun’s already tugging at the hem of your shirt and peppering your neck with kisses by the time the boys leave.

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #kpop #nct x reader #nct x male reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x male reader #jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x male reader #renjuseyo : nct #renjuseyo : fics

239 notes · View notes

b0amagination · 2 years

Audio

Hasan and Declan - 9

Series masterlist

Content warnings: mention of water torture, recorded whump, and caning. dubcon touching of wounds, forced cleaning, light tiktok usage and inspiration, niche video game topics.

~~~

I had to split up the audio file for this chapter so click here for (RECORDING PART 2)

Previously…

~~~

“You’ve got half an hour. Spend it however you like, but after that, you’re going to get this blood out of the carpet before it stains.”

Declan stifled a groan, instead opting for a heavy sigh as he laid his head on its side. The blood still pooling in his nose dripped slowly to the ground.

“You need anything before I settle down?” Hasan asked, waving at him for his attention. “I’ve got plenty of beverage choices here. Stain remover, another bottle of chemicals, water…”

“Please…” His tongue felt heavy, and his nose was hard to breathe through.

“Chemicals, you said? Coming right up!” What the fuck.

“W-water!”

“You really can’t take a joke, hm?” Hasan laughed, bringing over a bottle of water and tilting his chin back.

“No!” Declan flinched violently. The last thing he needed was further harassment of his recent trauma.

“I’ll leave it right next to you, but you’ve got to tell me that’s what you want, darling.”

“Please, I’ll drink it myself,” he groaned, watching the water bottle touch the ground before Hasan retreated.

He painstakingly propped himself up on his elbow as the bastard flopped effortlessly into an armchair a few feet away. Each shift agitated the welts on his back. A shaking hand brought the bottle to his mouth, a sweet, cold stream of water pouring as steadily as he could.

Declan closed his mouth, breathing in what air he could from his nose, and swallowed. His throat was beyond sore, and he felt a shiver rush down his spine, but it was good. His body begged for it, even as intuition only remembered suffering.

A few more sips would have to satiate him, because his arms refused to hold him up any longer.

He kept eyes on Hasan, scrolling through their phone. Short snippets of songs and voice clips came through the speaker, but soon one came that made their face light up.

“Oh, would you look at that!” They glanced at Declan, then turned around the screen so he could see. “That’s McQuinn!”

A quiff of generic brown hair stood out on the screen, but a particular pair of red sunglasses sparked the recognition in Declan’s mind.

“...isn’t that the guy who cosplays Lightning McQueen?” What a strangely familiar face to see in a place like this.

“He was!”

“Damn, why’d he stop? I haven’t seen him on my for you page in a bit…” He allowed himself to reminisce, like his TikTok for you page was something he’d be able to see any time soon.

“Well… do you remember the man I picked up for my friend?” Hasan grinned.

The faint smile over his face dropped and Declan’s eyes went wide. Shot right back down to reality.

“No…”

“Hell yeah! He’s in Adela’s basement as we speak!” Hasan exclaimed, swiping through their phone and turning it back around to show the same man, frightened, bound, and gagged in a wooden crate.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“It’s not-”

“You’re a freak!” Declan shouted. There was no reasoning or excuse that could make this okay.

“Do we really need to go over that again? This can’t possibly come as a surprise to you.”

He sighed into the carpet, already starting to smell of iron. Or maybe that was his nose. Soft twitches of his face kept disturbing it.

“Ooh, but speaking of captives’ social media…” Hasan leaned back, and Declan already knew what he was searching up. “Out of three Declan Labelles on Instagram—I looked at your ID—only one of them has a trans flag in his bio, fifty-one followers, and of course, those iconic blue bangs. But there’s only one problem! Some silly thing decided to keep his account private~!”

“Fuck off- hey!” They grabbed his hand and pressed his thumb to the scanner of a phone they’d just whipped out of their pocket. Hasan fist pumped when it unlocked, and Declan only realized it was his phone when it was in Hasan’s hands.

“There we go... I already stripped all communication, location, or cellular capabilities so we don’t have to worry about anyone finding you, but I’m keeping it active on my internet for situations like this! Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll enter my fingerprint in here.”

Declan was already lost in his head as they did that, because if they found his Instagram they could see his linktree, and if they could see his linktree they found-

“But that’s not the main attraction, of course. You didn’t tell me you’re a streamer!”

“You didn’t fucking ask,” he grunted.

“Beside the point. I’ve refrained from snooping around too awful much, but I’ve gathered you’re a video game speedrunner?” Hasan asked.

“Surprised you know what that means.”

“They’re nice background noise sometimes. Not that I could ever perform those glitches myself.”

“Cool.” Great. Something else for his captor to ruin.

He heard his own voice coming from the speaker, laughing and wheezing over a corrupted file. It cut out and was replaced by the celebration of his most recent personal best, only a week ago. Hearing his own laugh, so unaware of what was to come, made his breath catch in his throat.

“Turn that off,” he pleaded weakly.

“Come on, I’d like to get to know you!”

“I’m right here. Talk to me.” Declan rolled his eyes.

“We both know this isn’t the real you. You’re angry and hurt, and some may call that one’s true colors, but Declan isn’t this miserable thing at his core,” Hasan said, giving him the grossest pitying look.

“Stop torturing me and I might let you have a glimpse.”

“Goodness, isn’t somebody extreme!” They put a hand over their chest and pulled back.

“Asking to not be torn apart is a reasonable request, I think!”

“Here, here’s an archive video on your YouTube. Listen to this.” His own voice came through the speaker once again, over a music track.

“...and we’re live…? Woo, we’re live! Alright, uh, hey all, I’m Cy or Cybermen, my pronouns are he/him, and today I’m gonna show off a run of Donkey Kong Barrel Blast!” The audio paused, and Hasan turned back to him.

“See what I mean? So much brighter, more alive. Though, playing a game that uses a pair of bongos as controllers.”

“Like I said, you could have that for the low, low price of-”

“-not hurting you, and letting you go home, reimbursing you for this inconvenience, and disappearing off the face of the earth, of course, of course. Because you’re only here so I can experience your joy,”

“Shut up, you fucking sadist!” Declan grit his teeth to keep something more desperate from coming out.

“Mmmh, no, thank you. Just sit down and listen for a while.”

They hit play on the video again, watching along as Declan started the game, commentating on exploits and difficulties of individual levels. Listening to something so separated from his current self was a very strange experience. He tried to find comfort in the familiarity and success. That had been a particularly good run, especially considering how nervous he’d been about performing it in front of a large audience.

Declan had settled into the situation when a ding interrupted the video, and Hasan clicked on it.

“Oh my, looks like Lee had plenty to say about that video!” they smiled, opening the message instead. “Lee’s my boyfriend, by the way.”

Yes. He’d gathered that from the context. Hasan adopted a slightly more American accent and read it off.

“Babe you know I never questioned you for a second, but he’s perfect. Those noises, mmmmm and he took it well for a first timer. Nice even lines down his back too. If I didn’t know you, I might think you’re more experienced.

“I’m so proud of how you handled that little escape attempt. You’re doing such a good job already and I can’t wait to be with you again.

“Please keep a proper eye on him though. I’d truly hate for any punishment to come to you, be it at my hands or the law’s.”

Oh, gross. That was gross. Hearing himself talked about like he wasn’t even there, which he didn’t have to be if Hasan didn’t read that out… and talked about like that. Like he was there to look good for them, like Hasan was the person in the right here, like any of this nightmare was reason to praise the instigator.

Declan didn’t say anything.

“I must say, I have to agree,” Hasan said.

“Good, because I wasn’t entirely sure if you were a creep yet.” Delcan sighed, knowing the insult wasn’t worth shit. He glanced up and the bastard was visibly blushing. They really were deprived.

“Mmhmm,” Hasan nodded absentmindedly, ticked out a text back, paused, and held the phone up. “Say cheese.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” he muttered to the carpet.

“Close enough. You look cute by the way.”

“No wonder my last relationship didn’t work out. I wasn’t covered in blood.”

“Which means this one will inevitably last now that we understand the issue,” they finished, effortlessly, and Declan didn’t want to muster up the energy or effort to do more than roll his eyes. “Hey, Adela sent a heart of approval! The rest of the chat seems very excited as well.”

“I thought that was just for Lee.”

“Eh, spread the wealth and all that,” they waved him off, unpausing the speedrun video.

And it was right back to listening to game sounds and commentary. Like that wasn’t incredibly violating and invasive. Goddd and it was probably his fault too for saying how much it bothered him. Idiot!

Eventually, Hasan paused it once again.

“Alright. What do you say about cleaning that carpet now?”

“I say I feel like I’m gonna pass out,” Declan groaned.

“And if I offer you two granola bars in return for doing it?”

“You’re a dick.”

Hasan pretended to think for a moment.

“I can bump it up to three.” It sounded like a game show offer.

“You’re gonna make me do it anyway.”

“But I’m being so generous!” Yep, just as generous as those scammy hosts.

“Help me up.”

“That’ll cost you a granola bar.” Declan desperately wished he could switch the channel of his life.

“And if I ask you to do it without hurting me?” He was too tired to care that his question was a stupid one. Not too tired not to internally acknowledge it, though.

“Two.”

“Hurt me, then.” He kept his expression carefully flat, but Hasan lit up.

“Wow, those are certainly not words I expected to hear from you today!”

“Splendid. Brilliant. Get off your ass.”

“Goodness, not if you’re going to keep pretending these are commands for you to give. Ask me, and I’ll see how I want to answer.”

“Hey Hasan, do you wanna help me get up?” he asked flatly.

“Aww sure, Dec, I’d be glad to!”

They stood and approached him, sneering at the bloody carpet before straddling the small of Declan’s back.

“Ow, fuck-!”

“You signed up for this. No complaints.” Hands slid under his shoulders and pulled him up. They came together, shifting all of the welts across them, and Declan cried out.

“I didn’t- aaaagh! I didn’t say I’d take it well!”

“Just scream then. That’s more than enough for me. Now put your elbows under you before I drop your torso to the ground.”

Declan did, and once they’d gotten up, he tried to pull his knees under him too. Hasan helped. They lifted his hips.

“Alright, that’s enough. You’ve done your granola bar’s worth of work,” he shooed them away.

“That I have. Are you sure you’ll be able to get this done?”

“You’re the one who beat me up and then told me I had to.”

“Sue me for caring,” Hasan held up their hands, but they couldn’t commit to the act.

“You’re concerned about your precious carpet. Not me.”

“And you’re the one taking care of it.” They didn’t deny his statement.

“Am I done after this?”

“If I say yes, will you get on with it?”

“I reserve the right to wonder why I bothered asking,” Declan groaned.

“If you’re craving motivation, I can offer to step on you in the next five seconds if you don’t grab the stain remover.”

“Consider it done.” Declan waved a hand whimsically and reached over to the spray bottle. He sat on his heels to read the instructions on the back. “Spray on the area enough to soak it through. Rub in, and wait five minutes. Then, blot dry with a towel until the stain is no longer visible.”

“Read like someone who has never cleaned anything before.” They gave him a sarcastic thumbs up.

“That’s literally just the instructions.”

“Exactly. You don’t read the instructions.”

“Well. I do,” he grumbled. “Shut up unless you want your carpet ruined.”

“Don’t tell me what to do unless you want your mouth ruined.”

He shut up. He’d brushed against enough limits already.

Foamy spray soaked into the carpet below Declan, and he crawled across the floor, only as far as he needed to cover all the bloodstains.

He took a rag and worked it in, regretting not doing so on the first pass. He had to sit up a few times to ensure that he wasn’t about to pass out, continuing at Hasan’s insistence. If they wanted the stain to come out completely they should’ve been helping. Having the sickly torture victim clean their floor wasn’t going to end in a job well done, which was brushed off every time Declan brought it up.

It was a slight relief to see rusty red and brown soaking into that same rag just minutes later, but he had to dig into the carpet to reach the lowest fibers. Declan put all of his weight on his trembling arms, and eventually switched to his knees. This was not worth two granola bars in the slightest, but they surely beat laying here for hours more, being stared at and forced to listen to his own voice, presumably until he finished.

But now he was finally there, he sighed to himself, soaking up the last traces of the cleaner.

Declan didn’t even wait for Hasan to survey his job before collapsing to the ground and greying out.

~~~

Next...

~~~

Tag list: @suspicious-whumping-egg

Ask to be added or removed!

#whump #whump writing #my writing #water torture mention #recorded whump #recorded whump mention #caning mention #open wounds #noncon touching #dubcon touching #forced to clean #Declan Labelle #Hasan Badeaux #no thots head empty #i'm sitting here like 'what quirky fun things can i talk about in the tags' but i have no quirky fun only nothingness #it's alright i might have a braincell someday #mmmmmmmm want snuggles #mnmnmnmnmn #eyes go unfocusy #i would give anything to curl up and just sleep the day away #unfortunately it is finals week and i've gotta think about the finals i should be studying for #shit i have to check if my math one interferes with an appointment #fuckkkk #i am literally so stupid and i don't want to email and reschedule #hey jenna i am actually a failure in every way i'm gonna just fade into the void #fuck okay bad time to do tags then sorry #i'm scheduling this and leaving it alone #sorry if this chapter was boring i have banter disease

21 notes · View notes

waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 2 years

Text

Not Done Yet

Hey, how about a little angry Chris Dickinson smut? Someone had suggested the Dirty Daddy a little while ago (I'm kind of amazed I wrote this without using that nickname once). Here's hoping he recovers from his injury soon and can come back to NJPW, GCW, ROH... this man was everywhere.

Pairing: Chris Dickinson x OFC

Word count: 2,729

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, jealous/ possessive behavior, lots of cursing, some other stuff I'll just call "mature themes"

You laugh at Joey’s stupid joke and bump against him. It has to be totally obvious you’re flirting but, what the hell, he’s not around all that often and if you want to go for it, you have to up the ante from the low-level teasing you two have been engaged in for months. Sure, you weren’t single when it started, but you’re single now (largely, you know, because of these sorts of teasing flirtations that you’ve carried on with a number of men), so the time feels right. It’s not like he seems to mind.

In fact, he leans in and whispers another zinger right in your ear, letting his mouth hover just a little too close a little too long before he takes a step back. You don’t want to stare but you’re pretty sure he’s checking out your ass which, you’re well aware, looks especially good in these jeans. It’s why you picked them on a day you knew he’d be around.

You take a moment to send a surreptitious text to Shane, who you made sure was not here today, and is in fact in another city today. Video booty call with him is the backup plan if Joey eludes your grasp. But it’s looking like that isn’t going to be necessary because Joey’s immediately back next to you, the two of you leaning on the railing that you are totally planning on using for a spectacular move at the show later.

He’s not the brightest, but one of your girlfriends fucked him last year and assured you that he is hung and extremely talented. Brains are overrated.

You catch a whiff of Chris’s aftershave just before he appears life an arctic wind from behind you. He taps Joey on the arm and pulls him aside for a second.

“If you’re planning on hitting that, you better be vaccinated against more than Covid.”

The fucker says it loud enough that you can hear, although he’s pretending to whisper. Joey laughs a little but it’s immediately obvious that the line has done the trick: whether he believes a word of what he’s just heard, the man is clearly uncomfortable as hell. And, predictably, he finds a lame excuse to slip away from you moments later.

Goddamn it.

You and Chris Dickinson had been a couple for a little over a year and it had mostly been good. Things came apart over the jealousy. Dude had a possessive streak, you had an attention-loving streak, and those two things became more and more contentious. His tendency to go all alpha male when he saw you hanging too close to another guy, or laughing with one, or god forbid touching one, just made you do it more. And a pretty woman being a flirt in a business where men outnumbered women ten to one was always popular. Some of the guys were respectful of territory, or at least didn’t want to get on Chris’s bad side. Most were willing to shrug off those concerns if it meant you leaned over in front of them while wearing a loose top.

Things have not gone well since the breakup. The son of a bitch has put out an APB on your sex life and almost every time you think you’re getting anywhere, BAM, there he is, screwing things up and ensuring that you’re left frustrated. Sure, you’ve managed a few hookups on the quiet but it’s starting to look like you’re going to have to go work on another continent for a while. Fat chance of that in the middle of a pandemic.

You keep your mouth shut because your chances of getting anywhere with any man decrease exponentially if there’s some kind of scene but damn it is difficult.

Pouting to yourself, you check your phone to see if Shane’s responded, which he hasn’t, and for a second you get paranoid that somehow Chris has hacked your phone, or that he’s just sending out group texts warning the poor, innocent men of wrestling away from you. Crazy, yes. But he seems like he legit wants to ruin your life.

Nick gives you a quick poke in the arm and a grin as he approaches. It’s super obvious he has a crush on you but he’s a fucking teenager and you’re not that bad a person.

“How are you?” he asks, a little timidly.

“Great!” Your teeth are gritted because you’re still so mad about what just happened that you don’t trust yourself not to scream.

“Looking forward to tonight?”

You can’t imagine what kind of wrestler doesn’t look forward to shows where they have a high profile match but he clearly just wants to keep talking to you, so you give the standard answer, mention a couple of things you want to try. You don’t really want to prolong things because you feel a little like even chatting is leading him on. Moreover, you can see Chris telling Nick’s mom that you were hitting on him and you’d be lucky if she only killed you once for that.

“Hey,” he says quietly, leaning towards you, “can I talk to you about something?”

You take a big step backward but you nod, once you’ve done a quick check to make sure there’s no one too close. He’s probably just going to tell you that he likes you. You don’t especially want to deal with that, but at least it’ll clear the air.

“I know what you’re going through,” he informs you sincerely, which is interesting because you have no idea what it is that you’re going through that would warrant such an earnest conversation. “I mean, I don’t know myself but I had a friend at school… Anyway, her older sister got it but she got treated and I guess she’s pretty much totally healthy.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I know I shouldn’t say anything and I promised I wouldn’t but it sounds like some of those spots you’re planning could get bloody and I just… I’m not telling you what to do but… Is that really a good idea?”

“Nick,” you ask, jaw clenched harder than ever, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Nick. Tell me what you are talking about.”

“Look, Chris told me last week you have HIV. I’m not judging or anything, seriously.”

You literally see red, like an explosion coming right out of your eyeballs. Your first instinct is to reach out and strangle the messenger but that’s obviously the wrong thing to do.

“He told you what?” you seethe.

“That you…” He goes pale. “Was he joking? Oh my god, I am so sorry. He must have been joking.”

“Of course he was.” You can’t control how angry you sound. “No, I don’t have HIV or anything else. I had a cold a few weeks ago but I got a Covid test and that was negative, so I am a completely healthy girl.”

“Aw, man, I feel like an idiot.”

“As long as you didn’t share this information with anyone else.”

“Oh god no.”

“Good.” You back away from him, trying to grin but aware you probably look more like a baboon baring its teeth in anticipation of an attack. “I have to run. I’ll talk to you later.”

Oh it is over. No more truce. No more quietly accepting torment. You are going to fucking end him for this.

When you catch up with him, he’s talking with a few of the guys and although you’re ready to walk up and punch him in the kidneys, you know that’s going to reflect badly on you rather than him, so you stand a little way’s off and pace, the steam building ever hotter and ever greater inside you.

He finally breaks away and walks into the men’s bathroom and, what the hell, you’re just going to have to take the chance because you’re shaking with the effort of trying to control yourself at this point.

You are at least smart enough to enter quietly and determine that first of all, someone is in the shower, and second of all, that the person in the shower is the only one besides you in here. Quietly, you lock the door. Oh yes.

He walks out of the shower, he’s pulled on a pair of shorts thank god because you do not need that lingering distraction, and stops dead when he sees you.

“You motherfucker,” you snarl, advancing a few steps, “you absolute scumbag. You told a 17-year-old boy I had AIDS? What is wrong with you?”

“Actually, I just said it was HIV.” He chuckles at the joke and you have to dig your nails into your palms to stop yourself from cracking him right on the face. “He was following you around like a lovesick puppy. I was doing it to protect him!”

“You think this is funny you slug? You wanna make me out to be some kind of creep preying on children?”

He gives a shrug and a half-smile. You want to smash his head into the wall until whatever it is that he has in his head that passes for brains leaks all over the floor.

You stick your nose into my business, make up some shit about me with any man I might be interested in-”

“If I wanted to do that, I’d be talking to men all fucking day and night,” he snorts.

“You have no right, no right whatsoever, to police who I sleep with, who I talk to, or who I hang out with. But you especially have no right to go telling a fucking kid these lies about me just because you’re still bent out of shape that I’m friendly enough that people actually like me.”

“People don’t like you,” he growls, taking a couple of steps so he can glare right in your eyes. “Guys like the fact that you’re an easy lay. Big difference.”

“You are so stupid and so insecure that you seriously cannot tell the difference between me laughing a guy’s joke and sucking his dick. Pathetic.”

“From what I can tell, you go from one to the other pretty quickly.”

“All the times you freaked out at me over the tiniest thing, did you ever once catch me doing anything that could actually be considered cheating?”

“Just because I didn’t catch you doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening. Me ‘freaking out’ or whatever you want to call it is probably what stopped it from happening more.”

“Oh up yours. I did no such thing and you know it. Not even close.”

You plant your hands on your hips and hope that it’s not too obvious that you’re breathing a little heavily. These kinds of fights were often a sort of foreplay between you and while it wasn’t what you intended, your body has fallen into that old pattern, hungering after the roughness and wildness that followed one of his outbursts. It was the main reason you used to provoke him so shamelessly. As you stare him down, however, it seems like he’s breathing a bit heavily as well.

“You dumped me because you were imagining things about me,” you hiss. “And now you’re obsessed and trying to drag my name through the mud.”

“You fucking embarrassed me every chance you got,” he counters. “You acted like you were trying to screw every guy you spoke to and I was just supposed to take that? I think you deserve to be a little embarrassed yourself.”

You adjust your hips a little and press your thighs together. Your insides are sizzling just thinking about all the times this has happened before. Then he steps close enough that he brushes against you, just his arms, which are folded over his broad chest, but the sensation of him being that close again makes you gasp inadvertently.

“What’s that?” he whispers.

“Shut up, you egotistical pig. I’m warning you that if you don’t stop with this bullshit…” You realize too late that you don’t have anything to finish that sentence.

“You’ll what, girl? What are you gonna do?”

You give him a little push, which only succeeds in you knocking yourself back a step. He's like a wall. You try again but this time the push is more like you just rest a hand on his forearm for a second. The heat of his skin scrambles your brain a little and you bite your lip.

“Oh now what’s that for?”

He reaches up and catches your bottom lip in his fingers, toying with it a little before you twist your head away. You try to back up again but you run right into the sink. He smiles a little, placing his hands on the basin so that you’re well and truly trapped.

“Missing something?” he murmurs, pressing his head close to yours. “Something you’re not getting from your other guys?”

With him pushed against you, there’s no mistaking the feeling of something familiar against your thigh.

“Are you hard?” you snap.

“Are you wet?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you. Show me.”

He plays with your waistband and just the brush of his fingers against the sensitive skin there gets you so riled up that you oblige, pushing your jeans and panties down enough that he can reach inside.

Immediately, he laughs.

“You’re telling me that’s not wet?”

He slides his fingers roughly along your aching pussy.

“I’d call that fucking soaked.”

He works his way inside, two fingers then three, pumping fast and hard. You moan loudly and before you do it again. You grab his face and kiss him like you need it to live. You continue like this for a few minutes until you’re so close to your orgasm that your legs start to shake a little. And then he stops. Bastard.

He flips you around, bends you over, and yanks your pants down far enough that he can get inside you. He isn’t a bit gentle about it, just slamming into you so that you can feel the bruises forming where your hips hit the sink.

“How the fuck are you this tight when you’re such a slut?” he grunts.

He pulls you up and locks a hand around your face so that you're forced to look at yourself, flushed and in disarray, while he fucks you as hard as you’ve had in your life.

“Did you miss this?” When you don’t respond, he slows his pace a little, sliding in and out of you at an agonizing pace. “No?”

“Yes,” you gasp, clawing at his thigh, “please don’t stop.”

His fingers connect with your clit again, moving just as slowly in firm circles.

“Tell me who you belong to.”

You try to push back against him but he holds you firmly in place. It’s no use trying to struggle. He could overpower you with one arm.

“Say it or I’m not letting you have any more.”

“You.”

“No, no. Say it.”

“I belong to you.”

You don’t even have time to breathe before he’s hammering into you again, his hand working furiously at your engorged bundle of nerves until you fall apart around him with a sharp cry. It’s enough to pull him over the edge with you with such force that you feel the sink give a little.

He grabs some paper towel and gently wipes you off, letting his fingertips drag just a little over the hypersensitive flesh and laughing quietly when your whole body convulses from it. You pull your pants up before he can do any more harm, only to have him grab you and push you up against the wall, wrapping your legs around him. The two of you kiss again, lips and tongues and teeth, all passion and hunger.

“So if you want this back so much,” he mutters when you separate, “are you going to behave yourself?”

You can’t resist a coquettish smile. “Maybe,” you tease. “Probably not.”

“Then I don’t think we can do this anymore.”

You stroke his neck and face before you give him another quick kiss.

“But I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” you whisper.

He shakes his head and smiles like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. But he kisses you again and it doesn’t feel like he wants to stop any time soon.

#wayward wrestle writing #wrestling fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

Hi! If you are still taking requests, can I please request a fic where Carlos is suffering from chronic pain of some sort (maybe from an old injury that randomly flares up or perhaps a more recent one that he is still recovering from) and TK does what he can to help ease is pain? I just really want to read a fic where poor Carlos is miserable/in lots of pain, but he has TK there taking care of him. <3

holly's august extravaganza day 23: lover, be good to me

thank you for the prompt!

ao3 | 1k | hurt/comfort, soft tarlos, fluff

“I’m sorry,” Carlos mumbles, hissing as he tries and fails to turn towards TK. The pain in his hip has gone from a dull ache to an agonising fire that lances up and down his leg whenever he tries to move it.

He should have known this would happen—he did know this was going to happen. But he and TK haven’t had time for a proper date since the night Carlos proposed three months ago, both of them caught up in wedding planning and picking up extra shifts to help with money. Carlos knew he was pushing himself too far, but he’d desperately wanted this night for them, enough that he thought it would be worth the pain.

But he’d severely miscalculated. The mild ache he’s learned to live with had quickly gone downhill as he’d strained the limb more and more, until he’d almost passed out trying to put his boots on this morning. His leg wouldn’t go more than half a foot in the air before his hip started screaming at him; he’d collapsed back on the bed, breathing hard, and reluctantly came to the conclusion that he’d fucked up.

“What for?” TK asks, sliding into bed next to him.

Carlos barely suppresses a snort—what doesn’t he have to apologise for? “For pushing myself too hard when I knew what would happen. For taking it out on you.” He winces, remembering the way he’d snapped at TK when the pain became too much. TK gently squeezes his hand and drops a kiss on his shoulder, but his easy forgiveness only serves to make Carlos feel more guilty.

He sighs, carefully leaning back into TK’s warmth. “And I’m sorry for ruining our date.”

“Hey,” TK says sternly. “Nothing’s ruined, alright? And this is not your fault. Your injury was an accident, and no-one could have known what would happen.”

“I knew, though. This time—”

“Babe.” TK sighs and tangles his hands in Carlos’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “It’s not your fault. And as for the date… Since when have we had to leave the bedroom to have fun?”

Despite himself, despite the agony still dominating his senses, Carlos laughs, blindly reaching back to weakly swat at TK’s thigh. Or, where he thinks TK’s thigh is. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but that’s not on the table either.”

A quiet moment passes, then Carlos grits his teeth and shifts, the muscles in his thigh and hip protesting painfully as he rolls towards his fiancé. TK sits up, trying to stop him, but Carlos is determined; he needs to look at him.

“I really am sorry,” he says, half-whispering. “We’ve been waiting for this for months, and now we can’t do anything because of me.”

“Says who?” TK challenges, quirking an eyebrow. Carlos frowns but he doesn’t get a chance to ask before TK leans down and kisses him. “Listen, I’m going to deal with a few things, you rest, and maybe we can try something this evening.”

Carlos could tell TK now that this evening is off the cards as well, but he’s got that excited look on his face, and Carlos doesn’t have the heart. Instead, he nods, giving TK a small smile, which drops as soon as his fiancé is out the door.

He feels so useless, stuck in bed like this, but, as he’s reminded once again when his vision whites out as he tries to move his leg, he doesn’t have any other options.

Carlos sighs and flicks on the TV, hoping The Office will provide enough of a distraction to get through the next few hours.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knows, there’s a loud shuffling and grunting noise coming from outside the bedroom door.

“Ow,” comes TK’s muffled voice, and Carlos has to bite back a laugh as the door eventually swings open, revealing TK slowly backing into the room.

“You okay, babe?” he asks, though he almost regrets it as TK jumps violently, coming perilously close to dropping whatever he’s holding all over the floor.

Once recovered, TK turns and frowns at him. “No thanks to you,” he grumbles, causing Carlos to actually laugh this time. TK pouts. “I can and will leave you here.”

“No, you won’t.” Carlos holds his arms out, and TK comes willingly, setting what Carlos now recognises as a tray of food carefully on the bed. He groans softly as TK helps him to sit upright, then lifts an eyebrow at him. “What’s this?”

TK stares as if it’s obvious. “Date night.”

“What?”

TK pauses, then gasps. “You’re right.” He pats himself down frantically, then pulls an object out of his pocket with a dramatic flourish. It’s a little electric tea light—real candles long since banned from the bedroom—and Carlos watches in bemusement as TK flicks it on and sets it down on the tray. “Now it’s date night.”

Carlos huffs a laugh and shakes his head, turning to inspect the contents of the tray. There are two bowls of pho from his favourite Vietnamese place, a small bouquet of flowers, and that tiny tea light providing a weak yellow glow over the whole ensemble. His heart swells, tears gathering in his eyes, and he leans over, heedless of his leg, to kiss TK.

“You’re ridiculous,” he informs him, more than a little thickly.

“I’m romantic,” TK counters petulantly, but his smile is soft as he looks at Carlos. “I don’t care whether we go out or not, babe. I just want to spend time with you.”

“Even if I’m miserable and in pain and snapping at you about it?”

“Even then.” TK kisses him again and briefly knocks his head against Carlos’s shoulder. “Now eat your dinner.”

Carlos laughs and returns the gesture, before picking up the chopsticks from the tray. He hovers them above the dish, pausing for a moment and looking at TK, who already has a noodle hanging out of his mouth. “I love you.”

TK says something incoherently, before hastily swallowing his mouthful of pho, a pink flush painting his cheeks. “I love you too,” he repeats.

It’s not the date they planned, but Carlos has to wonder if this isn’t even better. And, he realises, as they eat and talk, he hasn’t thought about his pain in a long time. It’s still there; it’s not going away soon, but, with TK at his side, it’s become much more manageable.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #holly's august extravaganza #anonymous

41 notes · View notes

reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

reminiscence (? x f!reader) pt2

thank you so much for all of the positive feedback on the last chapter!! i’m super happy you guys enjoyed it :) just for some clarification, the reason i made who the reader will end up with a mystery is bc since she has amnesia, i thought it would be fun if we all found out together hehe :) enjoy this next chapter!!

pt1

pt3

“Thank you,” The woman said, hunched over as she caught her breath. When she stood, Bolin got a good look at her face. She wasn’t a woman at all: she was a girl, probably the same age as him. “I thought I had an agreement with the Triads to leave me alone, but that guy must not have gotten the memo.”

Bolin let out a laugh. “You have an agreement with the Triads?” The girl furrowed her brows and pouted.

“Gotta keep myself safe somehow.”

“Who was that?” (Y/N) asked as Kya and Korra rifled through dressers and chests to find Air Nomad clothes that would fit her. Kya gave Korra a sharp look before the girl could answer.

“That was Bolin,” Korra replied cautiously. “He’s Mako’s brother.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said. “He looked really nice. Did he know me too?”

“Um, yeah, I think so,” Korra said and Kya glared at her. “What? Am I just supposed to lie to her if she asks?”

“I appreciate the honesty,” (Y/N) admitted. “I would really rather no one tiptoe around the past.”

“If you receive too much information at once, or someone tells you something too painful, it could harm your chances of ever getting your memory back,” Kya said as she handed (Y/N) an Air Nomad dress.

“So everyone is just supposed to pretend that they’re fine with me? That hardly seems fair.” (Y/N) gave Korra a pointed look. “I know you know something that I don’t and that’s why you’re a little stand-offish toward me.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Tell me, please? I’ll be okay. I need to know what kind of person I was.”

“Not today,” Kya interrupted. “You need rest. Lots of it. You’ve been going since you woke up.”

Now that she mentioned it, (Y/N) did feel rather exhausted. She stifled a yawn. “I’ll lead you to your room,” Kya said. “Since Korra can’t be trusted to not tell you everything.”

(Y/N) stood as Kya grabbed her by the arm again. “It was nice meeting you, Korra, even if it wasn’t nice meeting me.” Korra didn’t reply. She just watched as the girl padded down the hall.

The room (Y/N) was given was bare. It held a desk, a dresser, and a bed. The window looked out onto the courtyard below. She could see the people down there, undoubtedly talking about her, and she reached her fingers up to open the window. She paused, thinking on Kya’s words. If she found out too much about herself too soon, she would risk the chance of losing her memories forever. She let her hand fall to her side.

Everyone down there knew who she was. Maybe they knew her likes, her dislikes, or even her birthday. She wondered if at one point they had been friends.

Her experience with Mako had definitely put a sour taste in her mouth. He had said she wasn’t a good person. Was she mean? Evil, even? What made her that way? What did she do to him that was so awful?

And then there was Bolin. Mako had mentioned his name earlier, when she had arrived on his doorstep. “Bolin’s not here,” He had said. Why would it matter whether or not Bolin was there? She sighed as she looked down at the boy dressed in green. What did he know about her?

(Y/N) felt the familiar stinging at the backs of her eyes that alerted her to tears. Since she was alone, she let them fall freely. She moved away from the window and to the bed, her body shaking as she cried. She felt so alone. How was she supposed to cope with something like this? She was completely lost on the inside and it seemed like the only people who knew her didn’t want her around.

She didn’t bother wiping her tears away. They fell too quickly for her to catch them all. She wondered if she had ever had someone that would wipe her tears away. She got under the covers and prayed that sleep would come to her soon.

---

Two years ago, Bolin had been walking down the streets of Republic City. It was a warm night, signaling the start of summer, so he wore his jacket slung over his shoulder. The streetlights shone against the puddles on the asphalt. It had rained earlier that day.

He and Mako had gotten in a fight over money again. It was stupid, really, but sometimes Bolin was just so sick of Mako treating him like he was incapable. He had slammed the door as he left their shared apartment and marched into the street, walking with no destination. He was far away from home now. He could tell he had been walking for a while because the neon lights of the shops had already shut off. Republic City was beginning to quiet.

He made a right onto a dimly lit street and noticed a female figure walking ahead of him. Bolin decided to stop. He knew sometimes it freaked women out if men walked behind them, even if there was no ill-intent behind it, so he leaned his back against the cool brick of the building and waited until she had rounded the corner to start walking again. That was when he heard the scream.

Out of pure instinct, Bolin started running toward the sound, his jacket billowing behind him. He skidded around the corner, watching as the woman he had seen struggled against a member of the Triple Threat Triad. He and Mako had done some work for them in the past, but he didn’t recognize the man. He was large, towering over the woman and probably Bolin too. He had his hands around the woman’s wrists and was trying to lead her into the dark alley beside them. “Hey!” Bolin called out. “Let her go!”

The man stopped, a sinister smile creeping its way onto his features. “This doesn’t concern you, kid.”

Bolin wracked his brain for a clever reply, but when he couldn’t find one, he resorted to his next best option. He stomped against the ground, causing small boulders to pummel the man. He let go of the woman’s wrists and she ran over to Bolin.

The man let out a roar, jumping into the air and sending a slice of firebending at the two of them. They screamed and Bolin grabbed her hand, running back down the street and taking the back alley ways he knew so well.

“My place is the other way!” She shouted at him.

“I don’t think you wanna take him to where you live!” Bolin shouted back. They made a sharp right turn onto one of the busier streets in Republic City. Bolin stopped, using his head start to earthbend the ground up, completely blocking the man from following them. They dashed into the crowd then, Bolin’s grip still tight on the woman’s hand, until he was sure they were safe to stop.

Bolin let out a laugh. “You have an agreement with the Triads?” The girl furrowed her brows and pouted.

“Gotta keep myself safe somehow,” She said. She looked down at her hands and sighed sadly. “When he grabbed me, he made me drop my dinner.”

“Oh no!” Bolin exclaimed. “Come with me, I know a place!”

“Thanks,” She said, “But I don’t have any money on me.”

“Let me buy you dinner!” The words came out before he could stop them, and he knew Mako would be so mad if he found out, but he couldn’t help himself. The girl raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think it’s fair to make you pay for my dinner after you just saved my life,” She said with a laugh. Bolin smiled at the sound.

“How about this: you can repay me for saving your life by accompanying me to dinner. And if I—hypothetically—ordered too much food and couldn’t possibly let it go to waste so you’d have to eat it…then I think that’s fair!”

The girl smiled up at him. “Then I guess, hypothetically, I’d have to say yes.”

Bolin grinned and began walking in the direction of the restaurant, then paused. “Just to be clear, you are coming to dinner with me, right?” The girl laughed again and nodded.

They slid into the booth of Bolin’s favorite twenty-four-hour noodle shop. “They’ve got everything,” Bolin explained as they poured over the menu together. “Ramen, pho, pad thai…you name it, they have it.”

The girl hummed. “Think they have sea prunes?” Bolin’s face contorted into disgust. “I’m kidding! I hate sea prunes.” She picked up her menu, biting her lip as she looked at its contents. “Do you like soup dumplings?”

“Like soup dumplings?” Bolin asked. “I love them! They’re my favorite!”

“Mine too!”

“We’ll get a double order then,” Bolin decided. He went up to the counter and ordered their food. When he returned, he leaned his elbows onto the table. “So, what should I call you?”

“You mean besides the girl you just rescued? (Y/N) will do.”

“(Y/N),” Bolin repeated. He liked how it felt in his mouth. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Bolin.”

---

“Bolin.” The boy snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at his older brother. They had returned home only a few hours ago and the sun was starting to come up. He could feel its warm rays cascading through his windows and onto his skin. “You need to go to bed,” Mako ordered.

“How can I possibly go to bed?” Bolin groaned, flopping sideways onto the couch. Pabu hopped up and curled himself into Bolin’s side.

“Easy,” Mako said. “You close your eyes and then you’re asleep.”

“Every time I try to close my eyes, I think of how (Y/N’s) on Air Temple Island and she has no idea who she is or who we are.”

“Try not to care about it, alright?” Mako poured himself a cup of tea. He had work in just a few hours. His under eyes were dark with exhaustion but as long as Bolin was awake, he’d remain awake. “We’ll figure it out and get her memories back and then she’ll go back to whatever she was doing when she left Republic City.”

Bolin chewed on his bottom lip. He had a feeling there was more to the story. The cogs in his head were turning tirelessly. He sat up, disturbing Pabu, and turned to Mako. “What if-“

“No, Bolin, you’re not gonna do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to make excuses for everything that happened because she has amnesia.”

“But what if there’s something bigger?” Bolin asked. “She’s been gone for months and says she woke up a week ago without her memory. What happened in that time?”

“We’ll find out soon enough. They’re gonna have her do some meditating tomorrow to try to bring some of her memories back.” Mako sat beside Bolin on the couch.

“I should go back,” Bolin started to stand up. “I need to talk to her.”

“Bolin, no.” His brother pulled him back down. “You heard Kya. She can’t find out too much or she risks losing everything. While she’s focusing on getting her memories back, you need to focus on what you know: she broke your heart, little bro. She definitely didn’t have amnesia then.”

Bolin’s eager appearance deflated completely. He knew his brother was right but there was still a part of him that wanted to go see her. Maybe if Bolin told her about her past, then it would be okay. They’d had the strongest connection out of all of them.

---

That morning, (Y/N) sat between Korra and Tenzin in a gazebo. Her legs were crossed, her arms were loose in her lap, and she inhaled deep breaths to try to connect to any of her lost memories. All that she got was a whole lot of nothing. She peeked her eye open to look at Korra, who was blatantly staring at her.

“Keep your eyes closed!” Korra snapped.

“Your eyes were open!” (Y/N) argued.

“No one’s eyes should be open!” Tenzin grumbled decisively. The two girls sighed and returned to their previous states. (Y/N) inhaled another deep breath and tried to do what Tenzin had told her. She recounted the first memory she had: waking up and gasping for air, the night sky high above her. She could feel the grass that surrounded her. Once she had gained her bearings, she took in her surroundings. A small fishing village sat at the bottom of the mountain she had laid on. She got to her feet, legs wobbling, and looked at herself. Her coat was covered in spots of dirt. She reached into its pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. The writing on it was scribbled and quick, written with haste, and was obviously an address.

(Y/N’s) eyes popped back open. She didn’t notice anything different this time around. There hadn’t been anyone at her side. The first people she had interacted with had been the people in the village. They had asked her name and (Y/N) had started panicking when she couldn’t remember it. She didn’t want to delve too deep into that memory. She could still feel the pain and anxiety in it.

She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t remember anything! I’ve been trying for the past two hours and all I can see is the same memory I’ve been going over for the past week.” She felt the stinging behind her ears again, but took a breath to halt it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so frustrated. I just don’t know anything and I know you guys do and trust me, I understand why you don’t want to tell me, but it stinks not knowing anything other than my name and that I’m a bad person.”

Korra frowned sadly at the girl. She knew what it was like, to be judged before she got the chance to redeem herself. While she had heard some pretty bad stories about (Y/N) from Mako, she also recognized that he was biased. Especially when it came to Bolin.

“How about we go into the city and get some lunch?” Korra asked. (Y/N) looked up at her gratefully.

“I don’t know if that’s the wisest idea,” Tenzin’s deep voice rumbled.

“Relax, Tenzin. We won’t talk about her life. She needs something normal right now.” Reluctantly, the man conceded.

Korra helped (Y/N) to her feet and whistled for Naga. The polar bear dog bounded toward them, her tail wagging excitedly. “(Y/N),” Korra said. “Meet Naga.”

The polar bear dog gave (Y/N) a huge lick on the side of her face. She giggled, rubbing behind Naga’s ears. “It’s so nice to meet you!” (Y/N) squealed. “I wish I had a pet just like you!”

“She’s kind of the best,” Korra admitted as she hopped onto Naga’s back. She pulled (Y/N) up to sit behind her.

“I don’t doubt it!” With a whip of her reigns, they burst into a run toward Republic City. (Y/N) couldn’t contain her laughter as they sped toward the water. She didn’t realize that they’d be traveling by sea until Naga dove headfirst into the icy water. (Y/N) closed her eyes tightly, gripping onto Korra’s back. The Avatar laughed.

“You can open your eyes now,” She called back to her. Slowly, (Y/N) relaxed and looked around. They traveled under the water in a giant bubble. Korra’s arms moved in flowing movements in front of her.

“You’re waterbending!” (Y/N) exclaimed.

“The Avatar is the master of the four elements,” Korra explained. “I’ve been training my whole life.”

“All four?” (Y/N) let out a gasp. “That’s so cool! I wonder if I was ever a bender.” Korra looked back at (Y/N) for a moment.

“You weren’t,” She said, her eyes kind as she stared at (Y/N). Although a little disappointed that she couldn’t bend, (Y/N) was grateful for Korra’s honesty.

“Thank you,” She said, a soft smile on her lips.

---

Tag List!

@beifongsss , @realimbo , @lavendercrystals , @tomshollandz , @zukosvice , @itsivyberry , @awesomelupe , @musicalkeys , @aroyaldarknessblr , @ilovespideyyy , @zukostan221 , @nataliahaslosthershit , @dailytrashypanda , @marvel-ing-at-it-all , @astralsaf , @ryleyrooroo , @yuhaino , @hotgirlazula , @thefandomimagines ,

#lok #legend of korra #korra x reader #asami x reader #mako x reader #bolin x reader #bolin #korra #mako #asami #writing #fanfiction

462 notes · View notes

ikleesfiction · 3 years

Text

I'm a fucking alcoholic (with a sweet tooth)

Fandom : Chicago PD TV Word count : 1,623 words Pairing : Jay Halstead x reader Author's note : This is the third one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary. Warning : It's fluff. I hope it doesn't end up too cringy?

Disclaimer

◢◤

It is a cold Friday in Chicago. You would say it is super cold since you worked in the warm weather of Los Angeles last week. Jay is coming over to your place after work. Now both of you are snuggling on the couch, watching movies on TV.

"I cannot watch this part," You hide your face in Jay's chest, preparing for the frightening scene. The darkness in the room increases the tension.

"What are you talking about? This is not even a horror movie," Jay looks down at you, bemused.

"Say you! Watching Tom Cruise blowing up a Gallardo distressed me. My soul is crying. It is a nightmare!"

You move out from Jay's embrace to point out the screen where Maggie Q said it is such a nice car. "Yes, it is! Don't do it, Zhen," yell you at the TV.

However, The Lamborghini on screen still went kaboom and was engulfed in fire. "Oh, no!" You put your hand on your heart, feeling devastated.

Jay grins at your silliness, "I'm sorry for your loss," He rubs your back, offering his condolences. However, his smile turns flirty. "If there's anything I can do to ease your pain..."

You play along with his idea. "Hmm, is that so?" Your hands wrap around Jay, pulling him closer. Your nose is tracing his neck, up to his jaw, his cheek. Your lips softly grace his skin, make their way closer to his. Jay wasted no time to kiss you and keep kissing you.

You don't know how long it goes, and you don't care to know. Until Jay moves back abruptly, tilting his head away from you, "Your pho..."

Your lips cut his words as you get on his lap. Jay puts his hands on your waist to stop you, halfheartedly, "Babe, your phone is ringing,"

Your hands curl behind his neck. "Let it ring." You whisper to his ear. Jay shudders when he feels your breath on his neck. Your mouth soon follows to make a mark on the same point. Jay tries to hold himself back from reciprocating the gesture.

Unlike Jay and his work, you got no obligation to pick up your phone. No life or death depends on you tonight. But the phone keeps shrieking. It started to annoy you because Jay stops participating in this make-out session.

"Might be important," This is one of the rare times you want to curse Jay's occupation.

"I assure you it won't be," You try to get Jay back in the game.

"Well, at least you can tell them to call you back later," Jay lands a soft kiss on your forehead. With a loud sigh, you move away from Jay's lap to pick up your phone.

Seeing the caller ID frustrates you even further. "You are interrupting our date night," is the first thing you say to your best friend, Alex, when you receive the call and put it on speaker.

"Hi, Jay!" Alex chirps his greeting, ignoring your complaint.

Jay greets back with a chuckle, "Hey, man. Nice to hear from you," He takes the remote to pause the movie, where Tom Cruise is gunning a Mercedes CLK down the road.

"No, it's not." You grumble under your breath. "What's up? Did you just come up with a song idea that would make Bruno Mars wished he wrote it?"

As a fellow songwriter/producer, you understand that song inspiration could come anytime. But it would still piss you off if Alex insists on working for it tonight.

"Not yet. But we do have a potential project for you,"

"Couldn't it wait until next week?" You moan your refusal. "Jay and I got plans for the weekend,"

"Of course. As long as you promise to pick up your phone when Angelique calls. I know you have been dodging her." Alex chides you.

Huffing your aversion, you lay your head on Jay's lap. In reflex, he plays with your hair. "Who's Angelique? A new talent?" Jay never heard that name before. He is pretty sure that he knows everybody at Pyramid, Alex's record label in Amsterdam where you work for.

Alex starts to explain, "She is a singer. Been around for a while,"

"Country singer, turned bubblegum pop singer, and now I guess she wants to try dance music as well?" You elaborate to Jay and asking Alex at the same time. You have written and produced songs from various genres, but your notable works so far are mostly EDM.

"Maybe," Alex answers casually.

"Angelique..." Jay ponders for a moment before lighting up, "Oh! Is she the one whose songs you keep skipping whenever they pop up, babe?"

Your best friend lets out a big laugh from the other side of the phone. "Angelique wants Y/N to produce her next album, but all of a sudden Y/N here cannot find the receive button on her phone," Alex emphasizes his sarcasm.

"I took yours, didn't I?"

However, Alex begins his interrogation. "Why are you avoiding her calls anyway?"

"I don't wanna work with her," You know you sound petulant.

"Come on, Y/N, it would be great! Angelique's third album sold triple more than her second. Her last single went neck to neck with Taylor Swift's song. Now, she is gonna let you work on her fourth album! Other producers would kill for this opportunity," Alex tries to reason.

Jay whistles, being impressed by the story.

"Well, my boyfriend here is a cop. I don't wanna get involved in any criminal activity," You are intentionally being obtuse. "If it were so great, why don't you do it? You're the one who still works on stage."

"You know people talked about how you could be the next Max Martin, right? Made sense that she asked for you," Alex states. "Angelique doesn't need another artist to perform with her. She needs someone who writes and produces good stuff."

"Every producer could be the next Max Martin if they work hard," You shrug the notion.

Jay looks confused with all these new names. "And Max Martin is...?"

"We are never ever ever getting back together?" Alex starts singing a couple bars to show Jay some examples of Max Martin's works.

"Uh..." Jay doesn't show any recognition.

"ou make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream?" Alex sings another song. Your best friend is nothing but persistent.

"Uhm.." And yet, Jay is still clueless.

"Jay is not keeping up with pop music for the last decade, Lex," You joke to your best friend. "Try some songs from the Backstreet Boys,"

"Hey!" Jay protests. "I know your songs," He smirks at you in full smug. "Especially the ones that were written about me."

You laugh at his adorable and sexy smirk. Sitting up from Jay's lap, you kiss the smug out of him.

"Guys, I'm still here." The flat tone of Alex on the phone stops Jay from taking the kiss further.

You peck a corner of Jay's lips one more time. "Your own fault. Who told you to call during our date night anyway?"

"Since I'm not there to poke and pinch you, I hope Jay could help me convince you to take this project." Your best friend is shameless.

"Is Angelique not a good person or something?" Jay tries to understand the situation. He knows you are a hard worker. It is rare for you to run off from a big project like this. "She ought to be a good singer, right? With all of that achievements,"

You cross your arms and glare at your boyfriend, "It is a prerogative to hate your best friend's exes, no?"

Jay frowns, "Wait, Angelique is Alex's ex?"

"Oh, come on!" groans Alex. "It was years ago!"

"You know how the saying goes. Quote-unquote, "You are my friend. She is your ex. You get to forgive and move on. I get to hold a grudge until I die”

"That was kinda harsh," Jay comments.

"Your best friend still hates me until now, Jay." You roll your eyes at your boyfriend.

"Mouse doesn't hate you. I even haven't got a chance to tell him about you since he's been deployed," Jay raises his eyebrows.

"She meant your work partner," Alex answers Jay for you.

Jay frowns deeper, "Hailey doesn't hate you."

"Wanna bet on that?" You challenge him.

Alex prevents the couple from bickering further, "Guys, listen! Angelique and I broke up amicably. There were no hard feelings between us now,"

"Excuse you!" You exclaim. "I still remember those dark days. You cried over so many Tequila bottles. And those boxes of chocolate!! Why did we have to consume that much chocolate over a breakup?? My waistline did not come back to its original measurement for three months!!"

Jay lets out an amused snort.

"Oh, you don't get to talk, man!" Alex hits the couple back. "Your temporary breakup also forced me to replenish my Jenever stocks! I got bakeries phone numbers on speed dial for chocolate cake emergencies!"

Jay puts his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. You guys continue to discuss business," He stands up from the couch. "I'm gonna go warm up some pie," Jay gestures to the kitchen area. "Alex, it's nice to catch up with you. Hope the next time we talk, it would be more social and less about business,"

"And you, love, try to listen to what Alex offers first before you cut him off," Jay bends down to kiss your lips teasingly. "Please don't pull out any bottles with more than 40% alcohol content. I need you sober for our plans tonight." He winks at you before moving to the kitchen, leaving you to deal with your pushy best friend alone.

+x Taglist +x

@lorenakaspersen @life-treatments @itsdesiree86

Foot Note: - Tom Cruise and Maggie Q blew up a Lamborghini Gallardo in Mission: Impossible III (2006). All of the MI movies are classics in my household. - Max Martin is a Swedish record producer, songwriter. You might not know his name, but I'm sure you know his songs. In reference to this fic, he co-wrote and co-produced Taylor Swift's "We are never ever ever getting back together", co-wrote Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream", co-wrote and co-produced some of Backstreet Boys' biggest hits. - "You are my friend. She is your ex. You get to forgive and move on. I get to hold a grudge until I die" line is taken from Henrietta Wilson on 9-1-1 TV Series S02E04 "Stuck". I thought it was hilarious. The line became the reason for this particular fic's existence.

I'm sorry for the long note. Thank you for reading this fic and the note. You are so welcome to reply, ask or tag me. We can talk about music, series or Jesse Lee Soffer's abs. :p

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fic #one Chicago fic #chicago pd fic #chicago pd tv #jay halstead #reader #original character #fanfiction #one shot #original work #wyftiiffy

82 notes · View notes

canadian-riddler · 3 years

Text

‘Burial’

Characters: Edward Nygma, Jonathan Crane [Scriddler]

Synopsis: He knew better than to go to his father’s funeral, but he did it anyway.

AO3 || fanfiction.net

It was sunny.

It shouldn’t have been, in Edward’s opinion. It should have been pouring down rain, should have discouraged half these people from showing up and encouraged the other half to finish up and get inside as quickly as possible. But it was sunny, and the sky was clear, and there were around thirty people here gathered to mourn the death of Edward’s father.

He had known about them, of course. Had known about his father’s new wife and new sons. One the age he had been when his mother had left, and the other the age he had been when his father had first hit him. They were crying not because he had been terrible to them and they were thankful that he was gone, but because they missed him and wanted him to come back. All of these people, his family and his friends, felt that way. They didn’t know because he had hidden it from them.

No one will ever mourn me like this.

It was sickening. The priest was making a grand speech about what a great man and benefit to the community his father had been, and people were eating up the lie and shedding tears over it. He’d been a bartender, for God’s sake. Some of these people were just regulars. Slinging booze was considered a ‘benefit to the community’ now? To what community? Alcoholics? Lonely men who had no better place to go? Single women looking for free drinks?

It seemed to take the entire afternoon for them to get all the ceremony over with and put him in his hole in the ground. When they finally did so, the feeling Edward had expected and been waiting for did not come. Instead he felt hollow, suddenly, as though something important had been taken from him. It hadn’t been, of course. He was glad that old man was finally dead. It had taken long enough.

It was his aim to have disappeared before anyone spotted him, but it seemed he had lingered too long because his father’s widow caught sight of him as people filtered along their way. She looked as though she had seen a ghost, and Edward supposed that she had. He turned and pushed his hands deeper into his pants pockets and did his best to pretend he was there for some other reason. He was in the parking lot, shouting distance from his vehicular exit, when someone called a name he was not yet used to hearing: “Édouard!”

He stopped without meaning to. The clack of high heels sounded across the asphalt but it was too late to pretend he hadn’t heard. He was going to have to see what she wanted and extricate himself as soon as possible.

“You must be him,” the woman said in French, short of breath. She had an accent he didn’t recognise. “He said you might show up. You look just like him, you know, like – “

“What do you want?” Edward snapped as he turned to face her, his enunciation still perfect Québécois. She looked taken aback, as though she had not expected him to be so aggressive. Or maybe seeing the near-exact facsimile of her late husband’s face on someone else was much more shocking up close. She looked down towards the purse hanging from her shoulder, digging in it with one hand. She withdrew and held out to him an envelope which stole the breath from his lungs and replaced it with a nearly sickening tension. All that was written upon the face was ‘Édouard’ in small black letters. He stared at it.

“What did he tell you about me?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” she answered. “Just that… someone I wouldn’t know might show up, and I was to give this to him.”

He accepted it, turning it over as he did so. It was sealed with no signs of tampering.

“Who are you?” the woman asked. Edward looked over the top of his glasses at her.

“Someone your late husband didn’t see fit to tell you about,” he answered, and resumed walking across the parking lot. Once seated behind his steering wheel he put the envelope down on the passenger seat and pushed the key into the ignition.

He shouldn’t open it. He should just get rid of it. It wasn’t going to say anything important. It wasn’t going to say anything he needed to read.

He couldn’t fit his finger beneath the corner of the flap with the glove on, so he took it off and laid it on the dashboard. He slowly worked the envelope open with one finger.

He shouldn’t. He wasn’t going to. He leaned over and opened the glovebox and removed the lighter that was in there. He lit it and held it to the bottom corner. Not close enough. He felt sick suddenly. He wasn’t going to be able to do it. He put the lighter down and leaned the envelope on the steering wheel and stared at his name. His father had written it there. His father had not tried to talk to him in such a long time. He had to know. He couldn’t not know.

Édouard

I suspect you will make an appearance at my funeral to make sure I am truly dead. I trust you did not cause trouble for the invited attendees. I think we can both agree that would be sinking rather low, even for you.

I am sure you will be relieved of the fact that you will no longer need to keep an eye on me and my doings. We both know they were none of your business and yet you made them so anyway. One would think you would divert your attention onto more suitable things with time, but age has not brought you any wisdom that I can tell. From what I have seen of you on the news you seem content to revel in your strange sickness instead. It is a shame to think upon all the things you could have been doing, but elected against in favour of… whatever that persona of yours is supposed to be.

I do not know why you did not kill me as so many of your ilk often do, but when I heard news of your disappearance I had hope you were moving away from the man you have become. My actions may have had influence in your decisions, but they were always your decisions. Perhaps my death will finally free you to realise that.

I do not have much confidence left in your ability to make the right choices, but at least the time remains for you to make them. I hope that you do for your own sake.

Dad

Edward pressed his forehead to the steering wheel and cried.

He didn’t know why he was crying, or who he was crying for. Perhaps for himself and the life that could have been. Perhaps because, as awful as the man had been, he was still Edward’s father. Or perhaps it was the not knowing if, had he known what Edward was doing now, he would have found it in him to be proud despite everything. When he was able he removed his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and cleaned his glasses with it, then his face. The letter he tossed back onto the other seat, followed by the envelope. He sat, leaned back in his chair, for a long time. When he realised what colour the sky was he blinked and turned the key. He’d been here too long. Even if he had only been here for as many minutes as it had taken him to park in the first place, that would have been here too long. His father didn’t deserve this much of his time, not alive and especially not dead.

The letter seemed to have been imbued with his aura, and Edward knew that was stupid but he could feel it. It was there. Just like that hollowness that shouldn’t be.

He shouldn’t have opened it. He shouldn’t have gone. He shouldn’t have.

When he got home some hours later and Jonathan asked how it had gone, Edward wordlessly put the letter into his hand and went upstairs. He stood in the shower for a very long time. Waiting. He didn’t know for what. He just felt as though he should stay there until something happened. Something that would tell him that the world hadn’t really changed that much even when he felt as though it had been upended completely.

Eventually he got out and went into the bedroom to get dressed, finding that Jonathan was in bed. He had been in the shower longer than he had thought. His hair was soaking his back because he had forgotten to dry it with a towel.

“If Google Translate is to be believed,” Jonathan said, “this is quite the letter.”

Edward sat down, shirtless, and took it to be put away in his bedside drawer. Jonathan looked at him but Edward did not have any words to give him. He didn’t have anything except a profound empty feeling he did not think anything would ever fill. He lay down, back to Jonathan, and pulled up the blanket. He wondered if it would ever go away. He wondered if it was a scar or a reminder.

“You have no way of knowing what it means,” Jonathan continued. “It could simply be a – “

“Shut up, Jonathan,” Edward said.

“Edward, I only – “

“He was my father and I’ll mourn him the way I want to.”

“… mourn him?” Jonathan repeated, his words overflowing with all the incredulity he could summon, and Edward got up to sleep on the couch.

It was sunny again today, too, the headstone now half-hidden behind flowers and little stuffed animals and a photograph depicting a family that was and was not Edward’s both at the same time. He had been on his knees there for a while. He should not have come today, either, but he had the right to make some sort of farewell speech too, didn’t he? Didn’t he have the most right to that out of anyone? The people in that picture hadn’t known his father. How many times had he sat there on the couch with his arm behind her shoulders, reaching for the means to change the channel if ever Edward appeared on the TV? Had his sons ever dragged their feet on the way home from school in the hopes of arriving after he had already left for work? Had he been good to them always, or had he done one unexplainedly kind thing now and again which only served to be utterly confusing in the face of the constant cruelty? Even if he had changed, had genuinely, honestly become a better man for them, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t fair. He was chewing his lower lip and trying to shove the rage in his chest back down with deliberate, heavy breaths. “I never killed you,” Edward murmured, “because it would have proven that might makes right.”

The smile his father wore in the photograph seemed to burn the corner of his vision that it occupied.

“If I had killed you, you would have won. But I suppose you won anyway because I will never have what you had. Unlike you, I can’t bury what I’ve done and have family and friends surround me in death, oblivious to the whole of the person I was. You have a lot of gall lecturing me about choices when you chose every day to pretend to your new family that I didn’t exist. That I don’t exist.” There was a handful of fresh grass in between his gloved fingers. “Well, I’m not going to tell you what I’m doing now. You don’t deserve to know. I no longer need your pride.” Saying it out loud made him feel as though he had the ability to make it true. “All those final fucking words to me and you couldn’t be bothered to use a single one of them to apologise. All I hope comes of your death is that I wake up one morning soon with the feeling I should have had all this time: relief.”

He stood up and turned around to find that his father’s widow was standing behind him, her teary eyes wide. He wanted to ruin it for her. He wanted to tell her in explicit detail who he was and what his father’s contributions had been towards making him that way. He wanted her tears to be of horror as he told her that the man she had loved and borne children for and built a life alongside had lied to her in order to con himself a second chance he had not deserved. All the words were tumbling through his mind, ordering themselves into the perfect sentences that would shatter her illusions and put the truth and meaning of her entire life into question. One inhale would fill his lungs with them and one exhale would breathe all of them out into a torrent that she would not believe at first, but that would form infinite niggling doubts in her mind. Eating away at her. Leading her to look into who Edward was. Into uncovering a truth she would not be able to hide from her children as her husband so easily had. One breath and he could do all of that.

So he took two.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.

Jonathan was at the kitchen table drinking coffee. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and his hair had been half-combed with his fingers. If by some wild circumstance Edward died first, Jonathan would not cry for him. He would not hold a funeral or spend too much time thinking about interpersonal regrets. He would simply remember Edward for what he had been. All of it.

He sat down at the table.

“That other phone has been ringing all day,” Jonathan said into his coffee, his other hand keeping his book spread open. “I think she knows and wants a chance to head you off before you do something rash.”

Edward rubbed at a dried spot of coffee with his thumb. It came off, but he would still have to wash the table. “I’m not going to do anything rash.”

“What are you going to do?”

The emptiness remained, but no solution had presented itself. “Nothing.”

When Jonathan put his empty cup down, Edward stood and brought it to the sink. “I didn’t know when you’d be returning so supper is in the fridge,” Jonathan said. He nodded but did not feel the slightest inclination to go looking for it. He would go see what she wanted, and after a shower he was going to bed. A thought gave him pause when he had one foot on the stairs. “Jonathan.”

“Mm,” said Jonathan. Edward couldn’t tell how his attention was divided between himself and the book.

“If… I died tomorrow, would you cry for me?”

Jonathan’s browline indicated he didn’t understand the question. “Of course I would.”

Edward’s fingers scrunched up and down the side of the bannister. “Just a little.”

“Enough,” Jonathan said.

“Don’t do anything else.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

Edward nodded and continued upstairs.

The phone was still ringing. He sat down in his desk chair and pushed his earpiece in and answered it. It had better be something that could wait because he was too tired to work right now. He had not slept much last night.

“There you are,” said Barbara.

“What do you want,” Edward said.

“We heard what happened,” Barbara answered. “We’ve rearranged some availability. You’ve got two weeks off.”

He sat up straight. “I don’t – “

“I knew you’d say that,” Barbara interrupted. “Look. I know you didn’t like your dad. But you went to his funeral. Even if you don’t want time to work that out, I’m giving it to you anyway. I don’t care what you do with it. Just take it.”

Edward stared at the wall until he remembered he had to respond to that. “I’m not going to do anything.”

“If I thought you would,” Barbara said, “we wouldn’t be talking right now. I’m just trying to be nice. Okay?”

“Thanks, Barbara,” he murmured, and she told him goodbye and hung up.

When Jonathan came upstairs he was still in his office, having gotten distracted by a spate of messages he’d received since last he’d checked them. The most distressing of them all he had left for last, and was still staring at it as Jonathan stood behind him. “She sent you a friend request,” he said after a minute. Hearing it said out loud didn’t help his indecision.

“What should I do?”

Jonathan leaned on the chair and Edward heard the clink of him pushing up his glasses. “She thinks she wants to know,” he answered finally. “But she doesn’t.”

Edward nodded and deleted the request. “They cleared my schedule for the next two weeks,” he said, rotating the chair ninety degrees to the left. “If there was anything you wanted to do.”

Jonathan frowned at the desk. “We should go camping,” he said. Edward was a little taken aback.

“Camping?”

“Yes,” Jonathan said, standing up straight again.

“I’ve never gone before.”

“Me neither,” said Jonathan, “but things are so easy nowadays an idiot could probably figure it out.”

Edward tapped one finger on the desk. “I’ll have to figure out what we’ll need, but… sure. Let’s go camping.”

“Are you coming to bed?”

He shook his head. “I need to shower.”

“Hurry up,” Jonathan said. “You know how you get when it’s past your bedtime.”

He wished he had a response to that, but… he was right.

He was ready about an hour later, which was cutting it close, and at Jonathan’s behest Edward lay held to his right side with one thin arm. The hollowness was still achingly present and he stared at the barely visible curtains shielding the windows.

“Don’t mourn him, Eddie,” Jonathan murmured. He always somehow knew what Edward was thinking. “Mourn the part of yourself he took from you.”

“I don’t want to,” said Edward. Jonathan’s long fingers were in his hair.

“I understand,” Jonathan said. “Your mind needs some time to accept that it’s finally over.”

That thought was… terrifying. He had spent so many years harbouring so much anger and frustration and resentment and now the cause of it was gone. Forever. The emptiness seemed to increase and the arm he had across Jonathan’s stomach tightened against it.

“When we go camping,” Jonathan continued as though he hadn’t noticed, “might I use the letter as kindling?”

“You know how to start a fire?”

“Oh yes,” Jonathan answered, scratching his nose with his free hand. “I used to do it with a knife and a rock. It’s extremely sexy, I assure you.”

“Can you still do it?” Edward asked, fascinated by this new development. Jonathan shrugged.

“You should probably bring some matches just in case. My hands aren’t as steady as they once were.”

Edward gave a pat to the place his palm currently rested, which was still Jonathan’s stomach. “We wouldn’t want you cutting yourself open.”

Jonathan slid his fingers between Edward’s. “That’s what the first aid kit you’ll be bringing is for.”

“Burn it,” Edward said after there had been silence between them for a minute. The gentle squeeze Jonathan gave to his shoulder may have caused the emptiness to fade, just a little bit.

“If you choose to change your mind, you can.”

“No. Don’t let me.”

There were a lot of things his father had had that Edward never would. But he had never had Edward himself, and once enough time had passed he would be able to appreciate and understand that had always been to his own benefit. For now he would wait and try to think about other things. More important things. Like Jonathan’s endlessly cold feet pressed against his shins. “Did you pull up my pantlegs with your toes again?” he demanded.

“I think they were already like that.”

“I don’t think so,” Edward said, attempting to yank them back down with his own toes, but Jonathan’s feet were simply too large for him to be successful. He crossed his arms and sighed through his nose and Jonathan laughed.

“Go to sleep and you won’t even notice.”

“I’m supposed to fall asleep with your gigantic icy feet crammed up my pants?”

“You’ve actually proven yourself to be quite good at it,” Jonathan said with gentle amusement, and even though it wasn’t really a compliment it still took the edge off his annoyance. He settled himself into Jonathan’s side again and Jonathan pressed his dry lips into Edward’s brow. “Don’t go running off in the morning,” he murmured there. “Having me worry about you three days in a row would be going too far.”

“It may turn out that you’ll wish I’d left.”

“Maybe,” Jonathan said. “Or maybe I don’t mind helping you as much as you think I do.”

He would ask Jonathan about the emptiness tomorrow. He must know some way of dealing with it, or what it meant. He found himself smiling a little.

“He wrote me the letter because he didn’t know I had you,” he said, and Jonathan laughed through his nose and slid his hand up and down Edward’s arm.

“Good,” was all he said, and without asking he knew that in Jonathan’s opinion Edward had won after all. It was an opinion he fully intended to share one day.

#there are no tags on AO3 because I hate tags and never know what to put #Riddler #Scarecrow #Scriddler #fanfic from Indy

54 notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 4 years

Text

Can I Ask You Something?

You don’t bring up his days of absence. You’re content knowing that you might not ever know why he left and why he was so vulnerable to you days later. There are times when the phone calls have grown silent that you want to ask him what happened, the question on the tip of your tongue but the nerve to ask never comes. The words begin and die in you and you’re forced to make a joke or ask him a question about a game before the need to ask consumes you.

He’s been different too. More guarded about the way he speaks, words tight and closed, until you have to go away, and then suddenly he’s asking more about you, wondering where you’re going, who you’re going out with, pressing deeper until you’re laughing off his worries and telling him that you’ll message him later- a promise that you will. It calms him for the time being until your phone blows up an hour later asking where you are and you have to respond while your friends send you raised eyebrows before turning to each other and snickering and joking that you have a possessive partner. You roll your eyes at the partner part, waving them off and denying it, sending a rushed out message that you’re still out and another promise that you’ll message him when you’re home. The messages will stop for another hour until your phone is buzzing and you have to stifle your laughter as you ease his worries. Because that’s what it is- it’s worry. You tell yourself that it’s worry, that as friends who don’t hang out, of course he’d be worried if you were out.

You brought up his worry one day. You were careful with your words, not wanting to accuse him of anything, not wanting to push him further away from you. Treading carefully and forcing the words out before you had the chance to bow out. There’s a part of you that realizes that that isn’t a good thing. You shouldn’t have to tread carefully in a friendship- or in whatever you can call this. This friendship isn’t balanced- he holds too much power in this relationship and you have to wonder if he realizes it too.

“Hey, Tomu?” You ask, raising your voice as you wash the dishes, the water loud and rushing.

He grunts in response, background sounds of a slashing sound followed by grunts of pain, are distant and loud all at once.

“Why,” you wet your lips and scrub harder at the knife in your hand, “Why do you get so nervous every time I go out?”

His reply is instantaneous. “I don’t get worried.”

You roll your eyes. “Tomura, come on. Every time I go out, my phone always blows up every hour. And look,” you rush to say the next part before he has a chance to interrupt, “it’s not like I don’t mind. I’m glad that you care about me. It’s sweet, but what’s up?”

He silent and your eyes constantly flicker to the phone, waiting for him to respond and the knife in your hand slips and clatters among the empty glasses. “What was that?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. You don’t have answer. I just- I’m glad you care about me in your like little, weird ways,” you chuckle, an attempt to lighten the mood, “but, I’m fine when I go out. I’ve gone out before and I’ve been fine then.” You don’t want to push him. He’s obviously not comfortable with the topic and the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. “It was a knife by the way. I’m washing dishes and it slipped.”

“Are you okay?” He sounds hesitant when he speaks and you frown.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m more worried about the glasses really.” He hums on his end. “Tell me about your day?” You suggest, rubbing your face with the back of your hand and letting out an annoyed sigh when water drops slide down your arm.

“Nothing special. Just sat around with… people I know. And kept track of the news.” He says, a whispered curse on the end of the sentence. “I won’t push as much with the questioning next time.”

You shut the tap off and flick water from your hands. “I’m- Look, I really do appreciate that you care. I’m glad to have a friend like you Tomura.” You pat your hands dry and grab the phone. “Anyways, changing topics. You seem to watch the news a lot, huh?”

“Don’t you?” He says, voice filled with sudden interest.

“Nah, I can’t. I mean obviously I will when it’s something major but most of the things on the news are like about villains and heroes and I rather not get into it.”

“You don’t like heroes?” His interest is rising with a sharp tongue.

“Um, it’s not that. I mean I’m sure there are some good heroes out there, like All Might—”

His snort cuts you off. “All Might is a fucking sham.” You can hear the hate in his voice, his words snapping out and cutting you off from further continuing your last statement.

“Oh.” You don’t know what to say. The hatred oozes out of his voice and you can tell that if you press on the topic, it won’t lead anywhere good. “I mean, I wouldn’t know. I don’t personally know him so I can’t make any judgment other than like what he shows on media. But every other hero is kind of like… How do I put it? Um, I guess they only do it for the fame? If that makes sense? Like you can tell when a hero saves people to save people versus when they save someone to like make themselves look good.” He’s silent. “I, um, you know, I’m the mood for some pho. You’ve ever had pho? It’s so good. There’s this nice restaurant nearby but I prefer to eat it at home.” You want the conversation to change. Your gut is telling you to change it, to move forward before something breaks and you can’t fix it no matter how much you try. You talk fast, hoping he’ll drop the previous topic and listen to you ramble. You hold your breath as you wait for him to reply.

“I think I’ve had it once,” he says after a moment. “Can’t really remember.” In the background you hear a creaking of the door and muffled speaking. He comes back clicking his tongue and the conversation has changed to the game he’s playing. You want to bury the anxiety in your stomach but you can’t, it remains unearthed and exposed. The back of your phone heats up, leaving a warm spot on your bed and you have to say goodbye, telling him that you’ll talk again soon. You end the conversation with a sore jaw and a melancholic silence that shrouds you like a thick, stuffy blanket.

It’s a nice day out, a bit chilly with a sun that gets covered by thick, slow moving clouds that provides perfect shade. A gentle breeze ruffles your hair and makes the leaves on the ground dance in a low twirl.

You stand next to the steps of your apartment, eyes searching for your friend and hands in pockets, one tightened around your phone waiting for a notification. You smile at your neighbor as they walk up the steps, and continue to watch the streets. In your pocket, your phone buzzes, and you pull it out quickly, swiping the screen and sticking your tongue out when it’s just Tomura’s message.

Tomura:

[Where are you going?]

You:

{Friends and I are just gonna buy like a bunch of snacks and hang out}

{We’ll probs watch movies or like anything that we can}

{I’ll be back later lmao so don’t miss me too much ༼♥ل͜♥༽ }

Tomura:

[Whatever]

You smirk and shake your head. In the corner of your eye, a car slows to a stop and you look up. The window lowers and you see the face of your friend who waves at you and beckons you to get inside.

You:

{Okay, I’m going out. I’ll probably talk to you later(^-^)ゝ}

Shigaraki doesn’t know why he’s suddenly on your case about your whereabouts. Why he needs to know if you’re home or not or if you’re still out with your friends. He tells himself that he doesn’t know why. He can be such a good liar when he wants to be. Lies that slip out of his tongue without a second thought. Lies that you’ll accept and believe, never one to pry unless he slips and even then you’re telling him it’s fine, that he doesn’t have to answer. You’re naïve. You’re too trusting to someone you’ve never officially met before. It’s an odd thing that he’s never encountered.

But he can’t lie to himself. He can’t bring himself too. He won’t allow himself. His truth will always scream at him, cover him in blood, and leave him biting on his abused lips. He’s gotten attached to you. He’s sick. He loves your trust in him, your naivety. He loves that you’ll accept anything that he tells you without a second thought. He’s infatuated with it. Obsessed with it. He wants this feeling to be sick. He needs it to be sick. He needs to believe that he still has control over himself- that someone as ordinary as you can’t make him feel soft. Can’t make him long for something he doesn’t even know what it is he’s longing for.

He knows why he needs to know. He’s attached to you. Attached how you say his name, how you call him a friend, how you never get mad at him, you never express any negative emotion other than light chastising. He tried to separate himself, he tried to decay his phone, to throw it against a wall, to do anything that would cut you off. But he couldn’t bring himself to. He doesn’t want to care about you. But you would still care about him. You’ll still offer yourself to him. He can’t leave you and it’s killing him.

He doesn’t know what this feeling is. He doesn’t know if it’s infatuation, lust, love, obsession. Every time he thinks about it, his head hurts and he wants to vomit. He wants to destroy something. He doesn’t know.

You hold power over him- a civilian holds power over him and it’s laughable and pathetic all at once.

But then you voice your concerns and he can fix that. He can change the way he speaks. But your concerns are still masked with concern for him- appreciation for him. And his mind is a mess.

You’re going out. You’re going to shop for an hour, go to your friends and spend the day there and late at night, you’ll be home. It’s enough time for the plans to be executed without risking you being caught in the crossfire. Enough time that he can make sure you stay safe.

The sun begins to set casting an orange and pink glow across the sky and the plan is now in preparation. He reads your message. He is going to miss you. He won’t say it out loud- won’t even admit it to himself but he’ll miss you.

The plan is executed without any major hiccups. Things go according to plan and he can feel city crumble little by little underneath his touch. He’s smiling wide underneath his mask as the League returns to the base and he can’t wait to indulge himself with you- can’t wait to tell you the truth and say he had a productive day, a great day even.

He waits for your message while having drinks with the League, an untouched drink with melting ice sits in front of him and he listens to harsh laughter and as they recount their version of the story. He checks his phone waiting for a message from you, growing impatient and sick. He’s suffocating while being surrounded by others. With shaky hands, he pulls Father off and lays him next to the untouched drink.

It’s late. Late enough for you to be home already. It’s late and you promised to message him- yet you haven’t. He grinds his teeth.

“Hey Shigaraki! Are you all right? You keep checking your phone, you doing okay?” Twice asks, white eyes narrowing and widening as he talks, legs bouncing underneath the table causes the amber liquid to swish in the glass cup.

“Quit shakin’ the table Twice,” Dabi mutters, throwing the harsh liquid down his throat. “He’s probably just playing some fucking game or whatever.”

Red eyes narrow and fingers underneath the table twitch to reach over to Father. He wants to open his mouth and snap put a comment but instead he holds his tongue, going back to check his phone which is still silent and devoid of any notifications from you.

“Oh, maybe he has a new friend?” Toga asks, running a hand down her hair, looking up at Shigaraki with a cheeky smile.

Shigaraki can feel his patience thinning when Dabi snorts. “Oh I’m sure it’s a new friend,” he says with knowing grin. Blue eyes rival his own red ones, and despite everything, Shigaraki freezes with a finger over his phone and a held tongue.

His feet plant on the floor and just as he’s about to rise, his phone vibrates. “Fuck off,” he mutters, slipping the phone into his pocket and grabbing Father, nails digging into it as he walks away. He doesn’t look at his phone until he’s in the privacy of his room.

In his room, he’s almost giddy, hands shaking as he unlocks his phone, Father placed gently on his side, the side of his hand gently touching his thigh.

There’s no message from you. It’s just a notification for a game he plays, informing him that an event is about to end. He frowns. He pulls up your messages and look at the last message you sent. The blinking cursor mocks him.

“It’s late. They probably fell asleep,” he tries to reason to himself, hands curling in on themselves and neck starting to itch.

He checks his phone obsessively throughout the night, waiting for you to message him until his eyes bur and head hurts- a dull throbbing pulse that makes it harder for him to think rationally. He’s sent you messages starting off with a simple greeting moving to a more direct questioning about what you’re doing. He still gets no reply from you. His phone blinks red at him, notification popping and screen dimming as it alerts him that his battery is running low.

He can feel acid rise up in his throat and eyes twitch as his mind is flooded with obsessive thoughts. He wants to- needs to know where you are. Why haven’t you answered him? Why- Hands freeze in place and bright red lines decorate his pale skin.

“You’re busy. That’s it. You’ll message me again.” It’s the mantra that he tells himself, repeating it like a prayer, begging and reassurance to himself that he’ll wake up with a message from you tomorrow.

You don’t reply until late in the evening. Your messages are sent right after the other, buzzing loudly on his wooden desk. He sneers at the phone and wants to make you wait. He waited for you so it’s only fair you should wait for him. But the more his phone buzzes, the more his resolve weakens. The more his curiosity wins over and phone is displaying your messages right after the other.

You:

{Hey!!}

{Oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t message last night but oh my god!!}

{You’ll like never believe what happened!!}

{I’ll give you a hint}

{It involves me and a villain attack;)}

His eyes shoot open and he’s pressing the call button without thinking. His breathing is ragged and blood is pumping throughout his body. He’s tense and shaking all at the same time, muscles tightening painfully and bottom lip between teeth and he can taste iron.

You answer on the first ring.

“Tomura!” You sound happy about getting to talk to him. Why? “Never thought I’d see the day you called me without having to ask. What’s the occasion?” You sound coy.

“Villain attack?” He rasps out, eyes into narrow slits, bottom lip red and plump.

“Oh god. It was like… wild!” Your voice is growing distant and he can’t think. He can’t hear his thoughts. He can’t hear your words. Father is on his face and he still feels sick. You’re babbling in the background. You’re telling him important information and all he can do is sit there as his mind is clouded and stomach is twisting into knots and his mouth is acidic and burns.

He can’t think. Words leave his mouth before he can even register them, before he can even think about he’s doing. “Video chat.”

“Vid- Oh! Sure!” You sound excited. “You still have my user right? I’ll send you a call in a second!”

You hang up. The room is loud, filled with his heart pumping erratically and blood pumping in his ears. He wants to retch. He clicks the video icon and scratches at the desk as he waits for the site to load, the sick feeling in his stomach growing until he feels like he’s in pain.

Your profile picture takes up the screen and instincts take over. He clicks the accept button and your face appears on screen.

You’re fixing your hair, and you take a swig from your water bottle, tossing it to the side. Your eyes dart to the side and glance at the screen, visibly brightening up when you see the call has been accepted. “Hey!” You’re smiling at him and you have a bandage on your cheek. “I’m surpri- Oh.” Your face falls and you look visibly taken aback, eyes blinking owlishly at him. Your voice is quieter as you speak, “Hey Tomura.”

He squints at you and you point a finger to your face, your mouth parted slightly open with eyes wide. He’s confused, why would- Oh. His covers his own face, arching to make room for Father but he isn’t there. How would you even know- Fuck. His eyes dart to the corner of the screen and his image stares back at him. He looks at you and face twists into something unpleasant, an insult on the tip of his tongue.

“Are—” you clear your throat— “Are you not comfortable with me seeing your face yet?” You look to the side and cover your side vision with your hand. “I can pretend I didn’t see!”

You saw him. You saw him and you’re not ending the call. You’re sitting there with a hand covering your peripheral vision as a courtesy to him. He swallows and for an odd reason, he doesn’t feel as sick as he did prior.

“It’s fine.” He says, tongue clicking and mouth dry. “Put your hand down. You look dumb.”

You chuckle and look back at him, gaze softening and eyes scanning his face. You frown and he frowns. “Your neck is red. Are you okay?”

“It’s a quirk thing.” He says without thinking, an automatic reply.

“Oh. Okay. As long as you’re okay.” The way you pout and continue to stare at his neck shows that you don’t believe him. This is a new type of vulnerability- one that he’s never experienced before and it makes him feel weird all over. “I uh- Wow. I’m sorry. I’m staring, that’s so rude of me. I just- I’ve never seen you and you look- wow.”

He remembers the first video call and how he wanted to see you squirm, to make you uncomfortable with his harsh voice that would mock you. He wonders if this is how you felt. Odd and wanting to hide. But you aren’t condescending. You’re just looking at him and frowning whenever your eyes dart to his scarred neck.

“You know, if it’s a quirk thing, I think aloe vera might help. I prefer to get it from the plant and like chill it in the fridge. It helps a lot with redness and stuff. Or you could always look up tips online—” Your eyes widen and mouth pulls into a thin line as your face turns a bight red. “Oh god! I didn’t mean to like make you feel uncomfortable or anything! It’s just— I get that some quirks can have a side effect and—”

“What happened to your face?” He needs to know.

“Heh, of course.” You wave yourself off. “God, this was so dumb of me.” You take in a deep breath. “Okay, so like halfway through our movie night my friend gets a notification that there’s this like mini festival out in a park and it isn’t all that late so we go. Anyways! Long story short, we go and spend time there and I go get some lemonade- which I like dropped and hate myself for it because it was so good Tomura!” He gives you a look and you give him a sheepish smile. “Okay, back to the story, I get lemonade and there’s like this big explosion sound and people are running and I’m a very panicky person so I kind just freeze and then I’m shoved and I start running in the direction people are like basically leading me in but I stumble and trip and I skin my knee and like I’m hoisted up by someone and like the next thing I know is there’s blue fire and like I feel like I’m seeing double because I see double! But that could be because I fell but whatever. And like I realize ‘Oh! These people have a death wish!’ Which I mean same, but like damn. So I try to run back to the little festival thing to find my friends but I get shoved and I fall again and I my cheeks gets like a bit cut up—” you motion to the bandage on your face— “And my friends find me and we go back to my friends place and my phone like ran out of battery and I didn’t have my charger and yeah.” You exhale and smile at him. “The end!” You still look chipper as you end your story.

He’s silent. Blue flames. For fuck’s sake. He’s furious. Furious at Dabi. Furious at you. Furious at the people who pushed you there. Furious at himself. He wants to drag his hand across his body and rip out his skin. He wants to wrap his hands around you and watch as you decay. He wants to start a fight with Dabi. You fucking saw double. You fucking saw Twice or his stupid fucking clones. He wants to fucking—

“Tomura?” Eyes snap at you and you flinch, eyes wide and hands in front of you as if to protect yourself. He spares a glance at the corner of the screen and finds himself to look twisted with bared teeth and eyes that have gone dark. “Are-Are you okay? You look a bit sick. Listen, I didn’t meant to worry you or anything, I just didn’t want to lie to you.”

“I,” his voice is strained and stomach churns, “I’m not worried.”

“Tomura, come on. It’s okay to worry. We’re friends.” You give him a soft smile and inch closer to the screen. “If you got hurt, I’d be worried too.” He’s biting the inside of his cheeks. “I’m fine. I wasn’t even hurt by the villain attack and I hardly saw anything, just the aftermath,” your voice is soft, much softer than before- you’re trying to calm him down. “I’m okay Tomura. All I have is a skinned knee and cheek.”

Shigaraki takes a shaky breath and the red in his vision begins to fade. “Fuck the people who tripped you,” he spits out.

“Yeah, but what can you do. People like to be involved in things and I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The only thing I’m really sad about is the lemonade.” You stick out your tongue and with closed eyes, you lean against the bedframe.

“You face is fucked up and you care about the stupid drink?”

“Tomu,” you whine, “you don’t understand! It was so good and the right amount of sweetness and sourness,” your face forms into a pout and shoulders slump, “I hadn’t even drank like half of it.”

His eyes are trained on your face, tracing over the bandage with frayed edges. “Why are you wearing the stupid bandage if you’re not that hurt?”

“Oh! My friends were worried it might get infected so I’m leaving it on until I have to get some sleep.” Your fingers played with the edges of the bandage, flicking the edges and scratching at the corners of it. “Anyways, enough about me!” You clasp your hands together and smile at him. “You look a lot different that I would’ve imagined!”

“Last time I asked what you thought I looked like, you said that was a dumb question.” Now that his emotions have calmed down, he hates what you did to him. He hated the anxiety that you brought upon him.

“Well yeah, but I never would’ve imagined you had red eyes!” You squint at him and give him a teasing smile. “It makes you look edgy but like a cool edgy.” You giggle at your own comment behind your hand.

“I do not look edgy.” He wants to get mad and brush you off but you’re here and you saw him and you’re not turning your nose up in disgust, you’re not screaming or ending the call- you’re calling him edgy and smiling at him.

“Yeah you do.” You cock your head to the side and examine him. He wants to hide his face but then you would leave, and he doesn’t want to let you go- he can’t. “You have that cute little scar, long hair, a raspy voice— Oh my god, you’re an e-boy!”

His breath gets stuck in his throat and hands flinch and curl in on themselves. “Not an e-boy,” he mutters, curling his upper lip. “I fucking hate you,” he spits out.

“No, you don’t,” your voice takes on a lilt, and he wants to log off the call. “You care about me because I’m your friend.” You stick your tongue out at him and give him a wide grin.

He doesn’t hate your smile. He wants to see more of it. He wants you to smile more at him. “Whatever dumbass,” he mutters as he tries to stop the slow upward curve of his lips.

“Well I’m glad that me getting injured meant that I got to see your face.” You give a fake cough and clear your throat. “I know you probably didn’t want to show me because you even look startled about it, but I uh, I appreciate it. I know you probably don’t want my app—”

“Thanks.” He runs a hand over his throat, the pads of his fingers rubbing over the thin wounds.

He likes your smile. He likes the way you lean into the screen when he talks, always smiling and looking at him. He wants more of it. He needs more of it. He doesn’t know how he got so attached. Was it the late night calls? Was it you treating him like a normal person when he isn’t? You got hurt. You got hurt because he miscalculated. You’re hurt. But you worried about his neck. You averted your eyes when you saw him. You wanted to give him privacy. He needs to keep you safe. He needs to not make it weird. He needs to protect you. Oh fuck. His heart is beating rapidly and he’s scared that it’ll stop any second. He wants you to stop smiling at him but he can’t get enough of it. He can’t get enough of you.

“I think we should meet up,” he says without thinking.

“Oh?” You tilt your head to the side and he wants to take his words back. “Are you sure? I’m cool with waiting—”

“I’m sure.” He’s shaking but he maintains eye contact with you. He feels a shiver go up his spine when you smile at him.

“Okay,” you nod, “we can meet up. You got a date in mind Tomura?”

“How—”

“Wait! Do we even live close to each other?”

He nods his head and wet his lips. He utters the city name and you visibly brighten and exclaim that it isn’t so far. You talk and ramble, planning out things and looking at your calendar to check when you’re free. You’re smiling at him and you’re excited to see him and you won’t stop talking about the things you could do together. His bites the inside of his cheeks to prevent the smile from taking over and he doesn’t know how to feel.

Tagged:

@rogueofbullshit

@loveableasshole

@yul-is-sparkling

@noonewouldlisten25

@noodlenerd101

@localdisaster

@snackgod

@iikillerkitteh

@ drapetomaniaac

@shigaraki-is-my-master

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki bnha #bnha shigaraki tomura #can i ask you something #ciays #do i still have to link things?#god #this story is getting long #sorry for the slow burn #this qualifies as slow burn right?#probs #okay #bye!#sorry if i tagged you and you didn't want to be #just let me know and ill take you out #i can never find part 2 #rip

155 notes · View notes