#my brain has been bothering me about them again

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Alright, and here's request #2

May I ask for Fives and Fox

with Prompt 14: Last Words

Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".

Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

In Your Head

Fox

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Pairing: none

Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives

Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.

It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.

It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.

Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.

Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?

Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.

Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.

"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.

Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.

"Talk to me," Thorn says.

"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.

Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."

"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn says.

Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."

"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckles. "I don't know."

Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.

"Fox," Thorn prods.

"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.

"I don't remember," Fox says.

"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.

Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.

"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.

Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.

Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?

Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.

Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.

Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.

Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.

Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.

Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.

Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.

Hi Fox , a voice says.

Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.

Fox , the voice says.

Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.

Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.

Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.

Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.

He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.

Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.

Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.

"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.

The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.

Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"

The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.

Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.

Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nods.

Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."

Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"So are you," Fox smirks.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.

Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?

Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.

Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.

I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .

Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."

"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .

"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too , the apparition says.

"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.

Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.

Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.

The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .

Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."

It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?

He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.

Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.

The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.

"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.

What are you talking about? the apparition asks.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.

C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.

Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?

Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."

Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.

Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.

A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

AO3

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#tbbb writes #commander fox #tcw fox #fox #tbbb's 501st follower event #501st follower event #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #star wars #clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfic #clone wars fic #tcw fanfiction #tcw fanfic #tcw fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

[hood-ex]

As someone who has been catching up on comics. I noticed a pattern with Nightwing. Every time the author changes the supporting cast gets dumped. We had the run offs and greyer Blockbuster. They don’t exist by the Ric arc even though they could be people to step up in Nightwing’s absence or grab power. Ric arc had a cast of cops and friends and Bea. Never heard from the cops again despite them being potential informants. The difference with Tom Taylor is that he’s the only one who uses old characters but he mutates them. Not sure if that’s worse but I hate the cast dumping. I fully expect never to see Bea, and the sister again. If the Sister stays someone will kills her off. Huh Taylor had a small supporting cast compared to others.

Yeah that's been a reoccurring problem with Nightwing and is one of the complaints fans have about it.

OH SHIT. Hold on. I'm sorry but this conversation just triggered something in my brain. So Guppy was in prison, right? Omg was he in the prison that Heartless liberated? Is Guppy free??

Wait let me double check... Heartless liberated Bludhaven Private Prison... and Guppy went to Bludhaven Maximum Security Prison... ugh. Damn. Different prisons.

Anyway, if they had kept Bea's normal civilian origin, I would've loved her as an informant of sorts for Nightwing since she could overhear convos at the bar and also see who certain individuals came in with. So yeah it would suck to see Bea just disappear after this, but at the same time, I don't know if I vibe with her sticking around as a pirate queen.

Melinda on the other hand, she can go. TT literally just set her up as the mayor as a way to make it easy for Dick to take down the baddies of the city. That's her purpose. Just easy gateway/easy access to certain information and such. TT hasn't bothered doing anything else with her, really. The sibling thing was just to give Dick an easy way to befriend the mayor. That's it.

But yeah, it'll be interesting to see which cast members the next writer pulls. Or who knows, maybe they'll rely more heavily on the Titans.

#Nightwing #supporting cast #replies

[odd-critter]

BAAHH crashbox again jumpscare

#crashbox #dora smarmy #sketchpad crashbox #sketch crashbox #my faves........... #my brain has been bothering me about them again #drag me away from my computer to be honest #I LOVE YOU DORA I LOVE OYU YAAAHHHH #ok

[keeps-ache]

hm. i do not remember the screenshot being this big hfvsh

#wip #i like this one the best and also.. it might be the best one Lmaofhvs #[points] its the He #this is also very nearly the final product hvfhs #i'm just gonna colour them a bit and then leave it at that :) #(i'm doing an expression sheet again :3 :D) #i'm drawing each of these individually unlike how i did with the bl.s ones cuz his funkin Hair likes to catch me out hbvfsh #//anyway i've been working on this thing for nearly a week ??? #'keeps why' i have been. writing #i do So enjoy infodumping about this project hvfhs #plusss putting it in a little booky means people don't have to be bothered with me looping back and over myself lol :> #i just dunno where i wanna put it lol #wattpad makes the most sense.. but also mm i dunno hfhsh #i haven't really used it in forever... #oh i should update it though fr fr #/also Geeeeez what is happening to my writing HFH #like one day i can't stop overusing the world 'occasionally' and then next i sound sort of obnoxious overusing synonyms and stuff lol #though you know what it Has gotten easier to just get stuff down (even when my brain is pretty much dead !!) when i just ignore everything #i forget about hfvhs :D #cuz i forget like every 15th word and it screws w/ the flow but if i do [this] with a similar word for later it's so good :DD #/also why can i Never remember the word Conscience lmao #that's a little bit of a funny one to always be losing hvfsh #//anywho... woo.... :33 #i'm gonna go do my stuff now... and prolly sneak a soda.... and if i do i'll prolly be back ranting because that's what caffeine does to me #Loll #have a very empty brain recently. it Has been full of lovey doveyness tho so not bad not bad hfvhs :D #okay bbbye now toooodles ciaaaoo see ya .u./

[lilgynt]

obligatory dad i will beat the shit out of you if you put ur hands on my mom moment

#personal #just broke up a fight then put my dad down for bed with a whole lecture #but definitely a moment #i think forcing them to let go of each other was more emotionally than like #more emotional for me #idk sternly talking to my father #anyway i didn’t tell him but i did tell my mom next to him in a normal speaking voice #if he gives you any issues call me if he touches you yell and i’ll fucking take care of him #then emphasized to him again my mom needs to sleep for both their sakes or else she’s gonna attack him #he cannot talk to her touch her he doesn’t have to sleep but he can’t bother her #and then left but i heard him talking to her so i came in and was like #why do i hear you talking to her? no talking no touching. let her sleep. if i hear it again i’ll come in again. then left #oh and mentioned how my mom has to be awake in four hours and i have to been awake not to long after we need to sleep #anyway i don’t like talking to him like that bc like #a lot of this isn’t his choice his brain is actively fighting him and making him like he is #and good news we’re getting someone to stay with us sunday and physical therapist coming in tomorrow to help dad #a lot of this isn’t his choice but there’s only so much my mom and i can do 24/7 #i hope my mom knows i’m not kidding about that like #not in a weird way but also ma’am he’s just some guy who beat me as a kid most days and ur my mom for better or for worse #like that’s genuinely not asking a lot #i mean kinda fucked up old dude with dementia but like i know him and he had it coming and if he puts his hands on my mom etc etc #and i mean mostly i just want him safe and comfortable i don’t want to upset him or hurt him #but like if he tries it honestly probably won’t even be hard to just keep him down #he might still have a decent amount of muscle mass over so can’t ignore that but also he’s an elderly blind man #and i outweigh and am taller than him #like not gonna say oh easy peasy cause he does have a decent amount of strength left but pretty sure i can keep him down or kick his ass

[luveline]

spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3

im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭

ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k

cw for sexual harassment

"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over. 

"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?" 

"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh. 

"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?" 

"Top of your thigh." 

"Shit, really? Can you see my–" 

"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs. 

"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently. 

"Do you want my jacket?" 

"Don't cover it up, toots." 

You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks. 

"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction. 

"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one. 

Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse." 

"We were just messing around," one says. 

"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy." 

"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."

His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down. 

"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine." 

Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

"I'm fine." 

"You sure?" His voice fries. 

"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants." 

Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–" 

"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad." 

"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you." 

"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk. 

"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here." 

"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures." 

"You shouldn't have to." 

"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome." 

"Right now?" he asks dryly. 

"Are you handsome right now?" 

"Are you really flirting with me right now?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning." 

"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know. 

You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?" 

He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you." 

"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?" 

His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup." 

"Just a small token," you say. 

He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want." 

"You sure?" 

He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper. 

He pulls you closer. 

You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone. 

"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today." 

He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it." 

"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so." 

"Hotch is pretty pissed at us." 

"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby." 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Of Lions and Mice

Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Reader is intended to be female

Masterlist

Leona was annoyed.

Once again, his golden goody-two-shoes older brother decided to shirk his responsibility of being a father and dump the overexcited, disgustingly bright-eyed crown prince on him for the day. And not only that, it had to be today of all days - a rare day where you were free from picking up Crowleys’ slack, where the loudmouthed, nattering extras that always followed you were otherwise preoccupied (and bribed to bugger off with a bag full of tuna), where he was certain he’ll spend the day in bed with you right next to him. 

But no. Just like with everything else in his miserable existence, his dreams were crushed and he had to spend the day playing caretaker to his nephew instead of wrapped up with you. What’s worse was that, you’d decided to carry the pint-sized load off of his back and gave your undivided attention to the cub when it should have been rightfully his. How he hated that selfless nature of yours, that sweet, caring, gentle nature that would make you look at anyone that wasn’t him with that loving gaze, that would make you brush your fingers through Cheka’s golden orange curls the same way you would Grim’s fur or the stray cats you’d find around campus or any other being instead of his mane. 

He hated just how loving you were, how your eyes could see the beauty in everything.

How, now that it’s late at night, and he’s closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in his attempt to actually get some shut eye and so that the little hairball would quit bothering him but Cheka just continues yapping.

Even in the darkness under his eyelids, he could feel you cast a worried look his way from the spot where his bed sags a little.

“Hey Cheka,” your sweet, dulcet voice (which is currently being used to please his nephew and not sooth him to sleep with the sweet nothings it usually does) pipes up, “how about I tell you a bedtime story from my world?”

“A bedtime story?!” Wow, even with his eyes closed he could see the stars coming out of his nephew's eyes, “yes please!”

Once the little cub has settled into bed, he asks you, “do you know any stories from your world with lions in them?

“Any ones with lions? Hmm, well, I suppose I could tell you about Narnia but I think you might be a bit too young for that and - wait,” you punctuated your words with a snap of your fingers, “I know a short one. There was this man called Aesop who wrote these short stories called fables.”

“What’s a fable?” Cheka asked, his words covered in that innocently curious lilt that all six year olds seemed to have during every occasion Leona wished they wouldn’t - and that was all of them.

You, however, seemed to have much more patience than him, “A story with a moral in them. Like, always be honest, or share, or work together, that sort of thing. I had a book of them when I was younger and I really enjoyed reading them.”

Figures. Of course, the shining beacon of sickeningly polite goodness grew up with such stories. He would’ve teased you for that but he had a child who he’s still trying to convince he was asleep.

“That sounds so cool, Aunty Y/N! Will you tell me more?”

“Of course, I will,” he can hear your smile, “but I’ll tell you them later, okay. Now, it’s time for you to rest.” 

“Okay, Aunty Y/N.”

“Alright so,” you clear your throat, “there was once a lion that lay asleep in his den. A shy little mouse came upon him and in her fright she ran away, only whilst doing so she accidentally ran over his head, waking him up.”

“Oh no,” Cheka gasped, “that lion is going to be so angry if he wakes up.”

Oh, so the little hairball does have a brain after all. 

“You’re right. Furious that he had been woken up, the big lion slammed a paw down on the tiny mouse and grabbed her by the tail. Holding her up, he growled at her,” here you made your voice noticeably deeper, trying to imitate a gruff growl, ““How dare you wake me up! I am the king of beasts and anyone who interrupts my slumber deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!””

It took everything within Leona to not burst into laughter at your adorable imitation of a ‘big scary lion’. It’s a voice you’ve used before whenever you tease him, playfully repeating the words his old self would have said to you, and it’s one that he’s rather fond of. 

He loves and respects you, Herbivore, and he’s the first to attest to your formidability and capability - even though you have the annoying tendency to not only blur the line between bravery and reckless stupidity but also play skipping rope with it - but intimidating you are not. 

“This scared the terrified mouse even more. Shaking with fear, she begged for him to let her go,” you make your voice higher at this part, squeaking in a way that oddly suited you, in Leona’s not so humble opinion, ““please, your majesty, I beg of you, please don’t eat me. It was only a mistake and if you let me go I’ll be sure to repay you. If you spare my life one day, I might even save yours.””

“The lion looked at the tiny creature and laughed, amused at how such a small mouse could ever be of use to an animal as powerful as him, “You? Save me? How absurd. You’ve made me laugh and put me in a good mood so I shall be generous and let you go.”

“Thank you, your majesty, thank you,” the mouse squeaked as she was put back on the ground, before scurrying away as fast as fast as her little legs could carry her.”

“Yay, so the mouse is free.” Cheka giggled.

“He is,” you said, “but there’s still more left. A few days later, the lion was prowling around when out of nowhere he was caught in a hunter’s net. Try as he might, he couldn’t get out of it. He tossed and turned, roaring angrily as he struggled to escape.”

“Wait, so now the lion’s in trouble. How’s he going to get out?” Cheka asked in worry. 

“You’ll see. Hearing his cries, the mouse followed the sound, recognising it from the lion he met earlier.

“I have to help him,” she squeaked as she scampered towards him.”

Upon seeing the lion in the net, she said, “hold still your majesty, I’ll get you out!”

And she quickly started to nibble on the ropes with her sharp little teeth, biting until all they broke apart. It wasn’t long until the lion was free.”

“So the mouse saved him. Was it because the lion helped him earlier?”

“It certainly was Cheka. “Thank you, little mouse,” the lion said, “I laughed at you and didn’t think you could ever help me but you saved my life.”

“It was my turn to help you.” The mouse replied, ”never forget that even a creature as small as a mouse can help a lion.”

And that’s the end,” you say.

“Thank you, Auntie Y/N, I really enjoyed that. Do you think the lion and mouse became friends after that?”

“You are very welcome, Cheka. I think they did. They did help each other, after all. Now I think it’s time to go to sleep.”

And once you were sure that the crown prince was asleep, you made your way next to your boyfriend, running your fingers through chestnut locks, “did you enjoy that little story, Leona.”

He opens his eyes to see your endeared smile. Rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around your waist he muses, “it seems awfully familiar don’t you think? A scared little herbivore wakes up a sleeping lion and ends up saving him later.”

“I’ll have you know, Your Highness, that I was never scared of you. Even when you were a rude old brute who threatened to knock out one of my teeth. And I’m certainly not little.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 

He pulls, letting you flop down on his bed beside him so that he can spoon you.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse,” he kissed your forehead, “I hope you know that I don’t ever intend on letting you go. Not after you helped in ways you could never even imagine.”

And so the lion fell asleep, holding the prey who rescued him from the confinement of his past safely in his arms.

#leona kingscholar x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fem reader

[imfinereallyy]

Eddie’s on the couch shirtless, and Steve is having a full-on crisis.

Eddie’s bare chest is on full display on Robin and Steve’s couch, and Steve is having a full-blown, how did this not click til now, crisis.

Steve knows he’s staring. Knows he needs to stop staring. Eddie is going on a rant to them, something about society or something metal (he got distracted when Eddie whipped his shirt off), and Steve should really pay attention because he knows Eddie is going to quiz him after.

For someone who hates school so much, Eddie sure likes to test Steve.

Robin comes up behind Steve, slurping her slushy. “Oh no. I know that face. It finally caught up to you, didn’t it?”

Steve breaks his state to give Robin a wide-eyed look. “What—how—I—“ Steve’s shoulders sag; there is no point in hiding from Robin. “How’d you know?”

“Please, babe, I’ve been waiting. Glad to know you actually sped-run this. Was thinking you were going to pull a me and wait til Jenny Rodriguez asks to practice the stage kiss with you before you realized.”

“I have so many questions.”

“Don’t bother; nothing happened except me falling off the stage at rehearsal.”

Steve laughs but then chokes when he glances back at Eddie. “I think my brain just exploded, Robs. What do I do?”

Robin pats his back sympathetically, “There, there. Nothing you can do, bud. Just got to ride the gay thoughts wave.”

Steve makes a distressed noise. Robin rubs circles on his back.

Eddie interrupts their moment (clueless to the evident lesbian bisexual solidarity happening), “So what do you guys think? Should I get the sword here?” Eddie drags his hand slowly down his sternum.

“I need you to take it back.” Steve whips his head torwards Robin.

“Take it back?”

“The crisis, take it back.” Steve all but begs Robin.

“Sorry, there is a no refund policy. You can use it or push it to the side; it’s up to you. But either way, that baby is yours.” Robin uses her straw to emphasize her point.

Eddie tilts his head confused, “Uuuh guys? The tattoo?”

Steve waits a moment before responding. “Good.”

“I’m going to need more than that Stevie.”

“Good. Will look good on you. Anything looks good on you.” Steve has to resist shoving his face into his hands. He can feel the rush of heat up to his cheeks.

Eddie’s face breaks into a brilliant, and a little smug, smile. “Awe, thanks, sweetheart. Glad to know I got the Harrington approval.”

“You don’t need my approval to look good.” Steve was going to throw himself off the roof of their apartment. That didn’t even make any sense.

Eddie snorts, “Okay big boy. Whatever you say.”

It comes off flirtier than Steve thought a sarcastic comment could be. This time instead of responding, Steve just caves into the embarrassment, turns around, and starts lightly thumping his head into the wall.

“Eddie, c’mon, you broke him! Now I’m going to have to reboot him…again.”

Steve doesn’t see his face but doesn’t have to look to know that Eddie’s face is downright giddy. “Sorry.”

Steve doesn’t think he’s very sorry at all.

#steddie #this is silly but it got me through work #Eddie only has the upper ground for now #later Steve gets confident and it throws Eddie for a loop #they are both disasters #I need a fun name like fruity four but just when it’s the three of them #but in love #platonic soulmates stobin #bisexual steve harrington #gay Eddie Munson #ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #stranger things #pre relationship #fluff #lesbian bisexual solidarity #stobin #robin buckley #coming out

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

body piercer!joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, modern au, no outbreak au

word count: 4.7k

summary: you finally go and get your nipples pierced.

warnings: reader has tattoos & has flat/small nipples which is the only physical description in this fic, nipple play, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, joel miller with a tongue piercing, lots of teasing, sexual tension, tattoo kink??? joel is really into them

a/n: this fic literally wouldn't exist if not for @swiftispunk's fic flesh and metal after reading it and screaming about it (and also reading articles about it) this fic was born, enjoy xx

special thanks to @johnwatsn for the beta! 💞

It’s late. The faint buzz of the neon sign is loud in your ears, taunting, mocking you for just staring inside instead of going in. Your face is illuminated with a red hue, the words BODY PIERCING burning into your irises. And despite the tacky neon sign, the inside looks quite clean. You would know, you’ve been stalking their Instagram page for a while now. 

There’s no one inside and you’re contemplating whether or not you should just get on with it. The idea of getting your nipples pierced had been a vague thought until recently. You desperately needed a change, you wanted something new and exciting. You wanted to feel sexy again. Your ex had certainly done a decent amount of damage to your self-esteem and that, plus your already low view of yourself, did not help your brain to see the good of you. 

So many things could go wrong, you’ve read multiple articles about it. Your body might reject the piercing, it might leave a scar, irritate it. . . 

G Suddenly, a brisk burst of frigid air gently caresses your cheeks, causing you to instinctively step back. Your gaze swiftly shifts from the interior of the shop to the door, where you notice that someone has just opened it, allowing the chilly air from the air conditioning inside to spill out.

Joel Miller, the shop's number one body piercer. Your cheeks burn, your pulse quickens, the sound of it flooding your ears. He’s tall and broad, his brown eyes staring at you with utter amusement. As you continue to just blatantly stare at him, he cocks his head to the side with a crooked smile. 

“I’m closin’ in half an hour, sweetheart. If you’re thinkin’ of comin’ in, I’d do it now.” 

“O–Oh,” you swallow thickly. “I can come back tomorrow if you’re closing up, sorry to bother you.” 

He raises an eyebrow, his smile falling, “Well, I didn’t quite say that, now, did I?” Come on in, darlin’. Tell me what you need.” 

Tell him what you need—your heart beats in your throat, the lazy drawl of his words going directly between your legs. You mentally curse at yourself. How touch-starved are you? He’s just being polite. You’re the customer, it would’ve been weird if he just shooed you away. 

Joel takes a step to the side, silently granting permission for you to enter. You stroll past him, making your way inside without uttering a word. The air conditioning is a blessing on your sweat-soaked skin. Even though you don’t have to, you briefly look at your surroundings. Just like your research had entailed, the shop was squeaky clean. 

“So,” Joel clears his throat. “What can I do you for, sweetheart?” 

Some part of you wishes that he could just understand without you having to form the words. You lick the back of your teeth, suddenly it’s very hard to breathe. 

“I. . . wanted to get my nipples pierced—if that’s okay?” 

“Of course, it is,” he smiles, much softer compared to his crooked smirk from before. “I’m Joel by the way,” he extends his hand and you take it with a sigh of relief, you feel much lighter now— 

“I know.” 

Your eyes go wide, both your hands stopping mid-shake. Joel’s amused glance is back again, his smile stretching into a grin, “You know?” 

“I mean—well, I did research before I came here,” you answer quickly, aggressively almost, and release his hand. His grin only wides, a puff of air escaping his nostrils. “So that’s how I know your name.” 

“Aren’t you the cautious one,” he turns on his heel and points towards the back. “If you’re set on what you want we can just head inside, I can explain the rest there.” 

“Sure.” 

Just as you both take a step you remember what you initially wanted to ask before going through with it and stop. Joel senses your lack of movement, turning around, you notice the furrow between his brow. “I actually wanted to ask something before we went on with it.” 

“I’m all ears.” 

Oh god, this is embarrassing, “So. . . my nipples are. . .flat—or is it more proper to call it small? I don’t know. Would that be an issue?” 

The glimmer in his eyes returns full force, his expression of worry melting away, “I’ve never met a nipple I couldn’t pierce,” he teases. “So no need to worry that pretty head of yours.” 

“Do you sweet talk with all your clients?” you ask, your lips twitching into a smile. You don’t know what it is, but you feel comfortable with him. Maybe it’s because you’ve been stalking his shop for so long. Either way, it’s a nice feeling. 

“Only with the ones that know my name before I meet them.” His eyes gradually move up and down your body, eating you up. His tongue darts out and swipes over his bottom lip. You notice the faint shimmer that belongs to a silver tongue piercing. “And the ones that’ve been starin’ into my shop for least an hour.” 

Joel takes a step closer and you feel your breath dissipating from your lungs. Dark, charcoal eyes sweep across your face. Your heartbeat is like a fearful hummingbird, hitting the bone cage in rapid succession. You swallow. By some miracle, you hold his gaze. 

“You ready to go, little rabbit?” 

All the tension drains from your bones and you burst out laughing, “Rabbit?” you giggle, your amusement only growing when you see his wide smile. “What the hell?” 

“There’s that pretty smile,” he hums, pulling back. Joel stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Now that you’re relaxed we can get to business. We can stop whenever, so don’t feel pressured when you’re in the chair. You can just leave.” 

You nod along as you follow him inside. You’re relieved when you see that it’s a spacious room with bright lighting that doesn’t irritate your eyes. 

“First things first, let's pick out the piercing.” Joel walks towards one of the small glass cases and pulls out one of the drawers. Your excitement builds as he presents them to you. “Any ticklin’ your fancy?” 

The light above gleams against the glass, there are so many and for a split second, you want them all. You never thought you would be labeling piercings as pretty. Looking them over, you decide you definitely want barbells instead of hoops. Now the question is which barbell one do you want? 

“So many,” you mutter, eyes scanning over them again and again. You see one that says ‘cum here’ on each heart-shaped barbell. There’s a couple of them that say different things; kiss here, bite me, lick me— a shudder rolls down your spine. Your mind instantly fills with indecent thoughts, most of them staring at the man still patiently holding the glass case. You bite the inside of your cheek. 

You bet he has the most skillful tongue—

“Oh, that one!” you exclaim suddenly, pointing at one in the shape of a heart. It’s decorated in shimmering rhinestones, the metal gold. When he inserts it, the heart would be framing your nipple. “It’s so cute.” 

“You like shiny things, huh?” he smiles. “You gotta good eye, it’ll look good on you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, “Thanks.” 

“Now lay on the bed, darlin’.” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking about the piercing bed. You’re about to lay on it before he stops you with a raised hand. “Take off your top.” 

“Most guys buy me dinner first.” 

“Har har very funny,” he rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, which in return makes you lightheaded. The expression is like a drug and you want to see more of it. More and more and more. “Besides, if you have a flat nipple I’m gonna need to stimulate it.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Joel is unaware of your blundering, he arranges the fresh, disposable drape and sterile forceps, placing it on the small portable workstation, “If you’re uncomfortable with that I can use the suction device too,” he answers nonchalantly. You watch breathlessly as he pulls on his black rubber gloves and finally turns to you. He raises an eyebrow. “Why’s your top still on?” 

“I—I just wasn’t aware nipple play was involved.” 

“You do realize where you’re gettin’ pierced right?” his lips twitch up. “You’re not drunk, are you sweetheart?” 

“Very funny,” you answer, mimicking his tone from before. “But anyway, okay, I guess I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“Understandable,” you point towards the endless draws. “Want me to get the suction device?” 

“God, no,” you let out a low chuckle. “Your fingers are just fine.” 

“Never had any complaints before.” 

Your stomach jumps, arousal caressing your skin similar to a summer breeze. The darkness in his eyes is back, his gaze intense and nerve-wracking. 

“Will it hurt?” you mumble. 

“I ain’t gonna lie so yeah, it will.” 

“How much?” 

“Depends, really.” 

Your shoulders drop. 

“Mine didn’t hurt that bad, to be honest, but my pain tolerance is quite high,” he mutters to himself rather than to you. He follows up with another sentence, probably something to soothe your worry but your brain is locked on to something very specific he just said. 

“You have nipple piercings?” you ask incredulously. “Really?” 

“I do, though it was more of a bet kind of situation. My brother loooves causing me trouble,” he sighs and crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. “But joke’s on him because I liked how they looked so I kept them.” 

“Can. . . Can I see?” 

“You gonna be a good girl and keep still when I pierce you?” Joel teases. You nod furiously, lips pressed tightly together. “A’right then.” He curls his fingers into the hem of his shirt and lifts it. Your eyes are glued to his chest—his entire torso. You see the way a soft trail of draw hair starts from his bellybutton and disappears under his jeans, you see the soft swell of his stomach, the muscle—your eyes move up, you finally see his nipples, pierced, just like he said, with silver barbells. You lean closer, your ass at the very edge of the piercing bed. 

Joel suddenly drops his shirt, hiding away, he shrugs, “Nothin’ fancy, but still, I like’em,” saying that, he takes a seat on his chair and sways a bit thanks to the wheels underneath.

“Do—” you lick the back of your teeth. “Do they make it more sensitive?” 

His smirk makes your heart skip a beat, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he points to your shirt. “Now off.” 

Without a word, you peel off your shirt and unhook your bra. Joel’s eyes widen momentarily, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare torso. You’re confused for a moment. Surely, in his line of work, he’s seen many tits before— 

Then you realize he’s staring at your tattoos. 

You don’t have many, though you guess compared to others you do have many. Joel’s gaze lingers on your chest piece, two hands reaching towards each other with the sun and moon in between, decorating the dip between your breasts without going too deep. The blood rush of your body fills your ears, and your lips part with a gasp, his eyes instantly snap to your lips. You see the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. 

“Didn’t know you were tattooed, darlin’.” 

“You like tattoos?” you ask, your voice hoarse and barely there. “I have more on my back.” 

You swear his pupils dilate, “I’d love to see them after. If you’ll let me.” 

“Sure,” you answer with a weak smile. “I don’t see a reason not to.” 

He wheels closer, eyes dropping to your breasts. You look away. Your cheeks feel unreasonably warm despite the air conditioning running. Goosebumps blossom over every patch of skin. His mouth is too close, the warmth of his breath fans your chest, a pleasant tingle echoing over your breasts. 

You’ve always felt a bit awkward about your nipples. They always seemed silly compared to your breast size, especially when you started seeing other nipples. 

“I’m gonna touch you now,” he says softly, dragging you away from your thoughts. “I’m gonna massage it a bit to work it out, a’right?” 

You nod and hold your breath simultaneously. He does your right nipple first. Just like he said, he massages the flesh closest to your nipple, easing it out. It feels good, undeniably so. The pads of his fingers work delicately. Deep down you wish he didn’t have to wear the gloves. Your body aches for his heat, his bare touch on your naked skin. Joel pinches a bit hard and you flinch, he mumbles an apology. You don’t have it in you to tell him that it didn’t actually hurt, rather, it felt good. 

Soft whimpers threaten to escape your lips so you bite into the bottom one, hard. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regulate your breathing with deep inhales. His thumb swipes over your, now hard, nipple. “There we go,” he says. 

You don’t open your eyes. Pain blossoms from the flesh of your lips, you feel them starting to swell. 

“Hey,” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face, then you feel his thumb easing out your lips from between your teeth. “You’re gonna hurt yourself like that. Are you okay?” 

How are you supposed to tell him that you’re just turned on? That this has been the most action you’ve had in months? 

“I’m okay,” you answer. His brows furrow in disbelief and you can’t really blame him. You let out a long sigh. “I’m fine, I promise. I just got a little worked up.” 

“Worked up?” His smile is back and in response, you want to bury your head in the sand. “What d’you mean?” 

His hand slides to your waist, squeezing it gently. You stick your bottom lip out. “You know what I mean.” 

“Hmmm, maybe,” his voice drips with cruel teasing, his thumb begins to draw lazy circles around your skin. You think he’s going to say something else but his gaze once again drops to your chest. “Looks like it disappeared, gonna need to work it out again.” 

You expect his fingers—maybe for him to pinch a bit harder this time. 

What you don’t expect, however, is his burning mouth on your cold skin. 

“Oh, fuck—” you gasp, your body instinctively arching towards him. He groans as a response, taking more of you into his mouth. His tongue flicks your peaked nipple. You feel his teeth nipping the tender flesh and you gasp once more, a sharp moan rattling in your throat. 

His eyes look up at you, momentarily he parts away, his lips are swollen, spit glistening at his lips, “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

And he continues to devour you. 

Your fingers bite into the leather bed, he laps at the pebbled flesh, purposefully rubs the tongue piercing into it. The sudden hardness of metal makes you jump and then melt into it, he repeats the movement of his tongue again and again, swirling it until your thighs start to shake. His hands briefly move to your tattoo, thick fingers dancing along the ink. 

“So sensitive,” he murmurs, directing his attention to your other nipple. He flicks at it first then closes his lips around it. Your underwear is sticky with slick, your legs in constant motion to relieve some of the tension from your throbbing clit. He cups your mound, presses his fingers into your clothed slit. “Be patient, I’m gettin’ there.” He sucks on your nipple and teases the other with his fingers, pinching and pulling them. 

“Won’t be able to do this when we pierce them,” he growls, teeth sinking into your nipple, he flicks his tongue over it. “And you better not let anyone else touch’em too.” 

Your head falls back with a groan. He flicks his tongue again when you grind into his palm, the friction not enough to quench your need for him. You grip his shoulder, urging him to move back. He does. You immediately feel guilty at the worry crossing his eyes. 

You grip his shirt, slightly sliding it up his stomach, “Can I see how sensitive you are?” 

A brush of color spreads from his neck to his cheeks. You smile. Red looks good on him. 

He stands up, the chair wheeling away. Joel is quick to discard his shirt and you’re glad that the piercing bed makes it so that you’re in perfect tasting range. You spread your legs wider as he comes closer, taking his place between them. His skin touches your own, his warmth overwhelming yet welcomed. 

You kiss his neck first. Then his collar bone, you suck on his skin, teasing the sensitive flesh with your teeth. He shudders. Slowly you make your way down, your thumbs push at the pierced nipples and he moans behind gritted teeth. Smiling sweetly at him, you swirl your tongue around one, playing with the other. Your tongue moves over the bead of the piercing, you tilt it which in return twists the nipple. Another tremble overwhelms him, his body curling around you even further. The outline of his cock is prominent through his jeans, his body impulsively grinding against your stomach. You moan at the hardness, and he moans at the pressure. 

“Fuck, that’s nice,” he rasps, hips jerking. “But let’s take care of you now, I bet your panties are soaked, darlin’.” 

Fuck, it is. 

Joel drags his lips down your cheek, he kisses your neck slowly, the metal on his tongue forcing a shudder up your spine and making you curious about how it’ll feel on your cunt. 

“Want to eat you out from behind, sweetheart, wanna see those tattoos.” 

His hands are a constant on your skin as you hop off the bed and bend over, he helps you with your jeans, reaching around and unbuttoning it for you. The fabric suddenly feels too tight on your skin and you need to get rid of it—now. 

The harsh fabric pools at your ankles and you kick them away. His fingers play with the elastic of your underwear, pulling and twisting. The heft of him rubs between the crease, thick cock straining against his zipper. You expect him to take off his jeans too. Your piercer is full of surprises, though, and instead of doing the predictable thing, he continues to roll his hips whilst tracing the pads of his fingers over tattoos. 

“Fuck, they’re beautiful, sweetheart,” he mumbles. His touch is ticklish, yet arousing at the same time. More slick gathers at the fabric. You’re desperate for his touch. By the movement of his fingers you guess which of them he’s stroking. First, it’s the fox that stretches over your spine, beams of sun framing its face. Then it’s the smoke-like lines that are closer to your shoulder and the other one near your hip. Joel can’t seem to get enough of it. His palms are flat against inky skin, trying to feel the thought of you while you got them. 

You gasp at the touch of soft lips and soft tongue. He licks a slow line up your spine, tracing over the fox and sunlight. By pure instinct you bend over further, your breasts completely pressed against the leather. You’ve never been more glad to have tattoos in your goddamn life—he’s worshipping them, the figures that adorn your skin. 

His velvet tongue is replaced by sharp teeth, your back arches, ass pressing further into his clothed cock. Joel trembles and follows your eager movements with another tender bite. 

“I love them,” he mouths over the inky smoke near your shoulder. “I love feeling you, touching you. I could just do this for hours. You feel amazin’ against my skin, my sweet little rabbit.” 

This time you don’t laugh at the absurd nickname. His name drips from your damp lips like honey, sweet to say and sticking to your tongue. 

His hand dips between your legs and his mouth moves down to your ass, he kisses the plump flesh as two fingers stroke you from over the fabric of your underwear. His groan reverberates on your skin, teeth skimming the flesh, “Fuck, you actually are soaked,” Joel hums and slips them under, gathering you around his fingers. “All this for me?” 

“Yes,” you gasp, raising your hips. “P-Please—”

Joel shushes you, “I know, sweetheart, I know,” he gets down to his knees and as he does, a small grunt leaves his lips. 

“Are you okay?” you ask. 

“Just fine,” he kisses your pussy and you’re instantly melting towards his mouth, a groan ripping from your throat. “A sacrifice I’m willin’ to make.” 

Joel doesn’t give you the chance to reply or offer to change positions, he slides your panties to the side, licking into you hungrily. You shudder and your upper body jolts, forming the perfect arch. He presses deeper. Licking and teasing your clit with the tip. He cups both sides of your ass and gives them a gentle smack. Your eyes roll at the mild pain, your slick coating his lips, tongue, and chin. The rough hairs of his beard chafe your skin, only adding to the pleasure. 

“Taste so good, beautiful,” Smack. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you, make you come until there’s a goddamn puddle on the floor.” 

“Oh god—” you choke on air, a moan locking in your throat the same time you’re trying to gasp for air. His words and the swirl of his tongue are downright sinful. He flattens his tongue and parts your folds with the soft muscle, teasing your entrance. 

Joel pulls you back against him, his lips teaching your clit, your jaw drops, a jolt of pleasure rushing through you and tightening your nipples. It’s filthy, that’s all you can think. If someone walked through those doors right this instant, they would see his face between your cheeks, drinking from you like a man dying of thirst. 

Your head drops, mouth flooding with saliva, you roll your hips; begging, asking for more. He gives it to you. Two thick fingers slide into you with ease, his mouth leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your ass. 

“Gonna come for me?” he asks, voice full of gravel. “Come on, give it to me, let me see how your pussy throbs, sweetheart.” 

He curls his fingers and you imagine him smirking as he breaks you apart. You cry out his name, your entire body shuddering as if lightning struck it, “That’s it, that’s it, that’s it. . .” He continues to thrust his fingers in and out, you feel yourself dripping, imagine yourself making a puddle just like he asked for. “Give it to me, honey. You’re fuckin’ beautiful, look at you. . .” 

Joel spreads you with his fingers and delves back into you, he draws circles around your clit, his jaw constantly moving with every lick. He doesn’t stop until he’s coaxing another orgasm out of you—your head fills with bliss, your body lifeless. 

When he’s done feasting, he slowly gets up with his hands sliding to your back. He leans down to pepper more kisses onto your tattoos, your skin tingling and singing at the contact. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, lips sucking at your neck. “Then let’s get those pretty nipples pierced.” 

“W—What about you?” you ask breathlessly. 

Joel helps you sit back up on the bed, you part your legs so he can come closer, he accepts the invitation with a wide smile, “I have a feelin’ we’ll be seein’ more of each other, sweetheart. You can make it up to me then.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your lips part. 

You have a strong feeling that he’s right. 

With gloved hands, Joel carefully opens a sterile needle package. You watch with rapt attention as he takes out the fresh needle, inspecting it. Your body is still thrumming with pleasure, your head still swimming in a daze. All you can hear is his breathing.

He had already walked you through everything while preparing for the procedure. No touching, no swimming. You had to clean them softly in the shower and that was meant to be the only source of water your nipples touch for a while. If there was any irritation or marks, you were to reach out immediately. 

Honestly, you found it cute that he’d gotten so serious all of a sudden. It was nice to see him so professional too, so competent. 

He comes closer and your body seizes. You hold your breath. With a sudden need to distract yourself, your eyes linger on to the walls. Your brows furrow in surprise when you notice the tattoo designs. You thought this was only a piercing shop. 

“You do tattoos too?” you ask nervously. 

“My brother does,” he answers. “He works the tattoo side of the business and I do the piercings.” 

“It’s nice that it’s in the family. . .” 

“Sweetheart, I know what you’re doin’. You’ll be fine I promise.” 

“Okay. I trust you mister man-I-just-met.” 

He grins, “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it ten minutes ago.” 

“Touché.” 

Joel prompts you to lay on the piercing table, he approaches you with a reassuring smile on his face. You can feel your heart racing as you nervously anticipate the pain of getting your nipples pierced, you imagine the worst, your heart beating in tune with your fear. 

He carefully cleans the area around your nipples and marks the spot where the piercing will go. He double-checks the placement with you to ensure you're happy with it. You give a slight nod, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs. “It’ll only hurt for a second.” 

With steady hands, Joel takes the needle. You feel a sharp pinch as it punctures through your skin, but the pain dissipates quickly. You let out a small whimper, “It’s okay, it’s okay, just a bit more,” he comforts you and you nod with a long exhale. 

After the needle is through, he quickly follows it with the jewelry, securing it in place. You watch in awe as he attaches the beautiful barbells to your nipples, the adrenaline and endorphins making the pain feel less than it is.

Once the piercings are in place, Joel gently cleans the blood before you can get a look.

“Aaand done, tell me what you think.” 

You’re surprised that he has a mirror in hand when you sit back up. Your gaze finds your reflection and an instant smile spreads across your face. 

“You like’em?” he asks, his tone shy. 

“Like them?” you gasp. “I love them! Thank you!” 

“Oh that’s a relief,” he leans back into the chair, slightly rolling away with a relieved smile. “No matter how many times I do it, I still get nervous.” 

“I definitely love them,” you say, you get up to wear your shirt but end up wincing at the sharp pain. You look at Joel between squinted eyes. “When did you say the pain would stop again?” 

“It’s gonna take a while,” he answers with a sympathetic smile. “You don’t know how much your nipples touch stuff until you get’em pierced.” 

“Well, at least they look good.” 

He shoots you a wink, “They sure do, little rabbit.” 

“That nickname is still ridiculous.” 

“Should I remind you that the last time I used it you came on my tongue?” 

“Nope no reminder needed,” you put your shirt back on, smiling. “I’m still going through the aftershocks.” 

“Good,” he stands with you, hands on your waist, he pulls you as close as he can without your nipples touching his chest. “So, you wanna go out?” Joel’s gaze drops to your chest and he licks his lips, “Gotta make sure you’re takin’ care of them properly.” 

“My hero.” 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller au #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #scheduled post

[hyunsvngs]

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 - lee minho x gn!afab reader

wc: 6.1k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: alcohol, normalisation of getting very wasted, smut (specific smut warnings under the cut, again minors please do not interact!)

synopsis: the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.

a/n: part one of the fratboy series. fratboy lee minho has now taken over my entire brain, my heart, and also my life, so i hope you all enjoy. PLEASE feel free to stop by our askbox to chat to me abt him because truly, i am obsessed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: swearing, dirty talk, sexy mean minho, no seriously he’s mean, thigh riding, nipple play, begging, dumbification, degradation, penetration with a finger & dick simultaneously, talks about sex slaves (maybe only slightly serious), lovely aftercare

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When the opening notes of Half Moon by Dean met your ears, you couldn’t help but groan. You loved the song, but it signalled an incoming call that you’d been expecting all day. You flipped your phone over, confirming your suspicions; Jisung’s squishy cheeks flashed on your screen as his contact icon showed up.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered the call, despite knowing very well what he wanted. 

At the beginning of the semester, your best friends had joined a fraternity, Sigma Kappa Zeta. It was an absolute dream - on paper at least. You didn’t have to commit to the endless fraternity obligations, which are often ridiculous and sometimes downright dangerous; although you still had regular invites to the blowout parties, owing to your connections to Felix and Jisung. You’d attended a few of these parties and enjoyed them thoroughly. Being pretty meant you got free booze, and what could be better than getting wasted for free, with two of your favourite people? While ogling their endless hoard of stupidly attractive friends, of course.

Your taste in men could be summarised as… unfortunate. You had an affinity for frat boys, the bigger and stupider the better. Muscular guys, with stupid goofy grins and sleeveless tees, bulging biceps and empty heads. Something about them really got you going, and it frustrated you to no end. But you loved to indulge yourself, and Felix and Jisung knew this all too well. And so, they were left baffled when you very quickly stopped attending these parties. Baffled, disappointed, and worst of all, persistent.

“Hey, angel,” Felix’s voice rang out from your speaker.

“You aren’t Jisung,” you stated.

“Very observant,” he responded, leading you to roll your eyes. You didn't even bother to question why he was calling you from Jisung’s phone. “Anyways, I assume you’ll be in attendance tonight?”

You snorted. “Obviously not.” 

“Y/N!” Felix’s deep voice gave way to a drawn-out whine. “Why not?”

“Cause I don’t want to spend time in your disgusting frat house,” you huffed. 

“Not even for me?” he pleaded with you.

“This isn’t working. You can’t guilt-trip me when I can’t actually see your stupid adorable face,” you pointed out.

“Fine, I’ll turn my camera on-”

“No. Look, why don’t you and Ji come drink with me in my dorm? Like the good ol’ days?” you suggested. Good ol’ days referring to a few months ago, before they’d joined the fraternity.

Felix paused for a few moments. “Fine. Maybe. Only because we miss you!”

“Come over then. See you soon!” You hung up before he could argue any more - you all knew you’d won. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Just moments after Jisung and Felix showed up at your door, you began to consider the possibility that maybe you didn’t win after all.

“Y/N!” Jisung cried, before proceeding to push past you and collapse onto your bed. “Why do you never hang out with us any more?!” 

You turned to Felix. “What have you brought to my doorstep?”

Felix shrugged. “He chugged like, three beers before we even left.”

"I guess we'd better catch up then." 

It wasn't long before you were all feeling merry, though it would be amiss to say you'd caught up with Jisung, given that he often seemed intoxicated even when he was sober.

"I miss you guys, too!" you insisted, hushing the boys' griping. And you really did miss them. Since classes had ended, and people had limited obligations, the frat seemed like a 24/7 party house at the moment, which meant you hardly ever saw them. "I just… these frat parties, it's not really my scene."

The look Felix sent you told you that he didn't buy it, not one bit. The look Jisung sent you, on the other hand, told you that he was currently so drunk that he had a very tenuous grasp on reality, and was just happy to be involved.

"I've seen you eye up at least three guys at the frat. Not your scene? Nothing has ever been more your scene," Felix said, his tone accusatory. "I know it's nothing to do with us. So spill. Why are you avoiding the frat?"

Jisung had wandered off to the other side of your room, where he seemed to be making a concoction of different beverages. He didn't seem to be making a mess, so you thought it best to leave him while he was quiet.

You huffed. "Fine. One of your stupid little frat bro's is driving me insane. But I won't say who!" you added hastily.

Felix's eyes glinted. "Driving you insane? In what way? Like, someone's pissed you off? Or they're making you insanely horny and you don't know how to handle it."

You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "You know me too well, Lix."

Felix laughed gleefully. "Changbin?"

"Don't start guessing! I'm not gonna tell you!"

"Chan?"

"No!"

Felix paused, thinking hard. "It's Minho."

"It’s not Minho!"

He cackled. "You're an open book, it's Minho! You're horny for Minho!"

You let out a weak whimper in protest. "I just… God, nobody's ever affected me like this before, Lix! I don't even wanna be around him 'cause I know I'll say something stupid. Or maybe just start drooling on him."

Felix shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you. He is a gorgeous guy."

"Understatement of the century," you scoffed. "If I had to choose between solving world hunger and sucking his dick, I'd choose his dick. A thousand times."

Felix, in that beautiful drunken phase where everything was utterly hilarious, was clutching his stomach, in complete stitches on your floor.

"I'm not even joking, Lix! I'd devote the rest of my life to being his sex slave. He wouldn't even need to feed me, I'll survive off his cum if I have to!"

Felix wiped a tear from his eye. "Stop, stop. You're killing me." He turned to Jisung, who was still apparently playing potions with various different drinks.

"And that," Jisung said to no one in particular, "Is how you make a Hanji Supreme."

"What the fuck are you doing, Ji? Are you vlogging over there? Get your ass over here and listen to what Y/N has to say about Lee Minho."

"Okay, bye!" Jisung said, still seemingly speaking to thin air. He turned to you, eyebrows raised. "Minho? Y/N has the hots for Minho?"

"Unfortunately," you confirmed.

"We could probably set you up with him," Jisung proposed, a dastardly grin on his face.

"No," you quickly denied. "Never. Under no circumstances do you ever mention my name in Minho's presence. Got it?"

Jisung pouted. "But then your dreams are never gonna come true!"

You chewed on your lip. "I feel like a stuttering mess whenever I even think about him. I can't imagine what'd happen if I actually spoke to him."

"Wait, you've never spoken to him?" Felix clarified, and you shook your head. He smirked. "You were saying some pretty vulgar stuff, considering he's practically a stranger."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a creep and a perv. That's why he can never find out about this. Seriously," you said sternly, directing this last part at Jisung. He wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets. 

Felix looked him up and down. "I don't think he's even going to remember this tomorrow, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah," you agreed. "He seems like he's done for the night." The boy was lying flat on his back, the brim of his beanie pulled over his eyes. His phone was buzzing away on his chest, notification tone pinging every few seconds.

Felix sighed. "I just hope he doesn't get one of those second winds."

“Jisung, honey, is someone trying to get hold of you?” you asked, the chiming of his phone growing irritating. You figured he’d texted one of his many booty calls and then instantly forgotten about it.

“Huh?” he asked, clearly not really listening.

Felix’s phone began to buzz on the floor. “Someone’s trying to get hold of me.” He brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, what’s up? He's - he's what?" Felix covered his other ear. "It's really loud over there, did you say he's on the table? Christ - okay, okay, we'll be right over." 

"What was that?" you asked. "Is everything okay?" 

Felix sighed. "Hyunjin's partying a little too hard. Seungmin can't deal with him alone. C'mon, we gotta go wrangle him."

"We just went over this - I'm not stepping foot in Minho's territory, not even for a second," you said adamantly. 

"Relax, he's partying with Theta Chi Theta tonight," Jisung slurred happily, sitting upright and fixing his beanie. "C'mon, Y/N, come party with us!"

Felix looked to you pleadingly. "I can't deal with drunk Jisung and drunk Hyunjin without you. Please."

Fuck. Felix knew you could never say no to his puppy-dog eyes.

"Fine."

Even with the knowledge that Minho was preoccupied somewhere else, you still felt a little wary as you stepped into the house. It did occur to you that you could be a little too terrified of this man, but you knew all too well that both your horniness and your stupidity were utterly limitless, which was always a recipe for disaster.

You heard Hyunjin before you saw him - "Why can't I get naked, though? It's so hot in here!" 

You snickered. He was still on the table, although he looked a little wobbly so you doubted it'd be too long until he came tumbling down. Jisung wandered off, probably up to no good, whilst you and Felix hurried over.

Seungmin breathed a visible sigh of relief when he saw you. "So glad you're here. Okay, I'm off duty. Good luck." He had vanished within seconds. 

Hyunjin waved excitedly when he caught sight of you both. "Hi Lix! Hi Lix's pretty friend!" 

You laughed at his drunken boldness. "It's Y/N," you corrected him.

"I know." He grinned down at you from the table, eyes disappearing into crescents. "You're brave, too," he crooned.

"Brave?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"If I was you, I probably wouldn't show my face around here until the end of the semester, at least," he went on.

Felix narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What are you talking about?"

Hyunjin stared at Felix for a moment. Then switched his gaze to you. Then back to Felix. Before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"Oh my god, please sit down before you fall and crack your damn skull," Felix pleaded with the boy.

"Yeah, and more importantly, explain yourself," you added. 

Hyunjin sat obediently, pulling out his phone and handing it to Felix. 

"Oh fuck," Felix breathed. "I have the group chat muted right now." 

"The group chat?" you enquired anxiously. "Please tell me what's going on." Your paranoia was getting the best of you, and while you stood waiting for someone to fucking explain, you were slowly convincing yourself that you'd stolen Felix's phone and confessed your attraction to Minho in the most crass and unrefined terms.

This wasn't too far from the truth.

Felix opened up a video, skipping towards the end. You noticed Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor of your dorm room, chattering away about various beverages. More prominently, however, you heard your own voice, from the other side of the room. 

“I’ll survive off his cum if I have to!”

Your heart plummets to the ground as the memory comes rushing back. Fuck. 

You grab Felix’s arm, holding on for dear life. “Tell me this isn’t happening. Tell me Jisung only sent that to Hyunjin and no one else.”

Felix handed the phone back to Hyunjin and placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. “Look, it’s going to be okay. People say stupid shit like this all the time-”

“Oh look, Minho’s read the messages!” Hyunjin calls out.

You put a hand over your mouth. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“He’s typing!”

“No!” you wailed.

Hyunjin turned his phone around once more. You peered at the screen in turmoil as three dastardly little letters popped up.

lol

"Oh, Y/N, you're so lucky he's not here tonight," Felix said, sounding relieved. Distantly, you felt a shred of relief too, although that was nothing compared to the complete and utter dread you were experiencing. Oh, the consequences of your own drunken, horny actions. Was there anything worse?

"Oh," Felix murmured, pulling his buzzing phone out of his pocket. "Oh." 

"What?" you asked.

"He's calling me." 

You called out "Don't answer it!" just as Hyunjin yelled "Answer it!"

Felix accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Oh my god, I'm scared. Hold my hand." You scrambled for Hyunjin, who grasped your hand in his before giggling.

"Your hands are soft," he commented, apparently having forgotten the Minho debacle already. You swiftly hushed him.

Felix also raised a finger to his lips in a shh motion, before putting the call on speakerphone.

"Are you at the house? Is Y/N with you?" Minho’s voice came through the speaker.

Felix paused, looking at you with wide eyes. You shook your head furiously. 

"Uh, yeah," he answered, the traitor. You fought hard not to scream.

"Can you pass a message across?" you heard Minho ask.

"Sure."

"I'm on my way." The line clicked dead.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. “LEE FELIX WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM I'M HERE?" 

"I DON'T KNOW, I PANICKED!" he shrieked back, sounding equally as alarmed as you.

“This is crazy,” Hyunjin commented with a dazed grin.

“You are far too drunk to understand the absolute catastrophe I’m in right now!” you accused him. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I need to go - immediately.”

“Not so fast.”

You spun around in complete and utter horror, terrified that Minho had somehow materialised from his other party right back to the frat. Only to find Seungmin standing before you - just slightly less threatening.

“Jisung is far too drunk, and he’s begging for you,” he explained.

“God, what is in the air tonight?” you observed. “Do you guys need to do a fraternity-wide detox?”

Seungmin snorted. “Like that’s ever gonna happen. Go on, Jisung’s in his room.” 

God fucking damn it, why were you such a good friend? You tore up the stairs, bee-lining for Jisung’s room, fully intending on hiding in his bedroom for the rest of the night. Minho wouldn’t find you in there if you locked the door, right? You were even willing to put up with your best friend’s snoring.

"Hey, Sungie," you said gently as you walked into his room. You found him curled on his bed, still dressed in his hoodie, cargos and beanie. 

"Y/N… You're finally here…" he mumbled.

"You sound sleepy. Is it bedtime?" you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. You tugged the beanie off his head, and ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp gently. 

"Bedtime? Hmm… No… It's still party time for now." His words were slurred, and you knew he was just minutes from dozing off - seconds, maybe. 

"Sure," you said, as it was typically better to just agree with him. "You wanna get your pyjamas on? We can have a pyjama party."

"No. I'm comfy like this." You seriously doubted it, but didn't have it in you to battle him right now.

Sure enough, he was snoring less than thirty seconds later. You wondered if it was worth shoving him a bit, to climb in bed beside him, or whether it'd be best to just run home. But you didn't know how far away Minho was, and the thought of bumping into him was too much to bear. 

You deliberated for a few moments, but Jisung's snoring was driving you insane, and you quickly realised that you weren't equipped to deal with it tonight.

You pulled out your phone, opening Felix's contact.

[10:44pm] You: lixie do u have minho's location?

[10:44pm] You: lix please please please

[10:44pm] You: felix pls i need to know how far he is

You sat on the edge of Jisung's bed, leg bouncing with nerves. Why was Felix always muting his damn notifications?

[10:48pm] Lix: idk sorry :( i think his party was nearby though

[10:48pm] Lix: look, just run to my room

[10:49pm] Lix: you'll be safe there

You weighed up your options. 

Option one: stay here with Jisung, awake all night owing to his snoring and his complete domineering of 90% of the bed space, stressing about Lee fucking Minho.

Option two: run out of the frat house, and all the way home to safety, but risk bumping into Minho on your way out.

Option three: run down the hall to Felix's room, where you can vent to him all night and then eventually fall asleep with his sunshine cuddles.

It could only be option three.

His room was just down the hall, you reasoned. You would yank open the door, tear down the hallway, and land safely in Felix's bedroom. It would be easy. 

You took a deep breath, before pulling open the door and preparing to run.

“Ah. Look who it is.” 

Shit.

Minho stood in the hall with an unreadable expression. His eyes scanned your whole frame, and he took his time with his scalding gaze. His eyes crawled all the way up your legs, lingering up your thighs. Slowly moving from your hips, to your waist, to your chest. Before landing on your eyes - that’s where his inspection burned the most. You couldn’t even breathe. 

“All bark and no bite, hm?” 

“I… I just…” you stammered weakly.

He continued to stare at you, waiting for you to finish. “You just?”

“I’m sorry!” you managed, your voice barely above a squeak.

He folded his arms across his chest, looking amused. “What, pray tell, are you sorry for? For blabbing about my dick to anyone who’ll listen? Manners mean everything, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked me nicely. There was no reason to bring everyone into our business, now, was there?”

You simply blinked at him. You weren’t capable of anything more. He was clearly waiting for a response, though, smirking over at you expectantly. “W-What?” you managed eventually.

“Or are you apologising for your dirty mouth? Honestly, I didn’t expect that from you. You look so sweet, who knew you could be so… improper.”

You felt dizzy. “Improper?”

He pouted at you, and it was dripping with condescension. “Can you speak, darling? Or are you so cock-hungry you can’t manage more than a one-word answer?”

“I-I just don’t know what to say, is all,” you whispered.

“Just give me a yes or a no,” he invited you, holding his hand out for you to take.

You gave him a slow nod, placing your hand in his shakily. He smiled as if to say ‘right answer,’ before opening the door right next to Jisung's, and leading you into his bedroom. The room was remarkably neat and tidy, and you would’ve been impressed if you could even begin to process it. All of your mental energy was focused on not combusting - or coming on the spot. 

He allowed you to step into the room before closing the door behind you. You were then quickly pushed up against it, Minho pinning you against the wood with his hips. Had that squeal really just come from your mouth?

His eyes were transfixed on your lips. You waited, heart hammering in your chest, while he had you trapped there. Until this point, you really hadn't been sure whether he was angry at you for saying such explicit things about him. The look in his eyes revealed everything - he wanted you just as badly.

He leaned in slowly. Torturously slowly - evidently, he was going to take his time with you. His lips met yours in a gentle peck, which he repeated, again and again. You sighed against his lips, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him closer, but he merely smirked against your pout.

"Please," you breathed.

"You're so desperate," he said with a low laugh. "I could give you what you want, Y/N, but I know you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I can take it," you protested, your voice sounding much whinier than you wanted it to.

"You can?" he asked, cocking his head and looking down at you condescendingly. You nodded insistently. "Okay."

Minho picked up the pace. His lips were soft but they bit at yours harshly. His tongue entered your mouth and you savoured his taste, sucking on his tongue gently.

Your hands went to the button of his jeans, swiftly unbuttoning it. Minho pulled away, stepping back and leaving you pouting once more. He laughed, that awful patronising sound yet again, that made your palms sweat and your thighs sticky. 

"What, you think you're gonna get my dick that easily?" he asked, cocking his head at you. "No, honey." 

"Please?" you asked. It sounded pitiful, even to you.

You watched as he went to his neatly made bed, tugging off jeans and laying back. "Come here," he instructed, lounging back against the wall. "Take your clothes off for me."

"T-Take my clothes off?" you asked meekly. It sounded pitiful even to your ears.

The look he gave you was scathing, although he did seem rather amused by the pathetic show of stupid desperation you were unfortunately displaying. "Well you can't expect to stay fully clothed if I'm gonna fuck you, right?"

You nodded, standing in front of him and looking down at your feet. "I… I feel shy all of a sudden."

"You feel shy? I don't know if you'd make such a good sex slave after all." He laughed before growing serious. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll look after you, if we do, but the choice is yours."

His kinder tone set you at ease, and made you realise that you really wanted this, you were ready for this. It also brought about the realisation that you much preferred it when he was mean. You didn't want to dwell on what that meant, though. 

You gathered your courage and slowly pulled your clothes off, standing before him in nothing but your underwear. Minho said nothing, but you felt as though you were on fire under his gaze. 

He wasn't the only one who was enjoying the view. Your eyes traversed his toned thighs, mouth watering as you thought about how it'd feel if he were to press one between your legs. He wore plain white briefs, and you couldn't help but stare at the prominent bulge inside them. Even semi-hard it looked huge. You noticed it twitch ever so slightly, as he looked over your exposed body.

Minho spread his legs slightly, before tapping his left thigh. "Come on, darling. I know what you want."

Was he a mind reader? You wasted no time, climbing onto the bed, straddling his thigh and beginning to slowly grind. He tensed it, so firm and strong beneath you. The perfect platform for you to drag your clit across. 

Minho's hands went to your waist, holding you gently, guiding you as you rolled your hips.

"That's it, baby, there you go," he encouraged you. The friction was enough to make you sweat, the pleasure overwhelming you. He was right - maybe you couldn't handle this. You couldn't even imagine how overwhelming it would be to actually feel his hands on you, feel his dick inside you. 

His dick.

You could see it growing harder in his briefs, a small damp circle near the head where precum had leaked. You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; your hand reached out almost involuntarily, cupping his bulge gently. It was firm, and warm, and growing bigger seemingly by the second.

Minho took your hand, instantly re-directing it. "No, no, don't touch. Not until I say you can."

"But I can see how hard you're getting," you said. "You want it, Minho!"

"Unlike you, I know how to restrain myself." He patted your waist gently. "Keep riding."

You gave a frustrated huff, but did as he said. 

Minho brought a slender finger down to your crotch, hooking it around the fabric of your underwear and moving it out of the way. "Let me see that pretty pussy," he murmured.

The new exposure made you moan aloud, hands gripping Minho's shoulders firmly as you rode him.

"Please," you whispered. "Please, Minho."

"Please, what? Use your words."

"Please fuck me," you asked.

He pretended to consider it for a moment. "Hmm… No. Not yet."

You groaned. "I need it, though!"

Minho snickered. "Don't be such a brat. I want to take my time with you, okay?"

"You can take your time next time! Just - please - fuck, please, I need it."

He raised an eyebrow with you. "Oh, so there's gonna be a next time, is there?" 

You ignored his quip. If you couldn't get in his pants just yet, you'd focus your attention elsewhere. You lifted his shirt slowly, revealing his stomach, where you found lightly toned abs that only made you more desperate to feel him. Miraculously, he humoured you, pulling his shirt over his head.

You gasped, running your hands down his chest. He was beautiful, tight pecs and perfect little nipples that stood to attention in the open air of his bedroom. You ghosted a finger over one of them, entranced.

"I thought that'd shut you up," Minho commented under his breath.

"Beautiful tits," you muttered unintentionally as you admired his pecs.

Minho smiled. "I could say the same thing about you, angel." He placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth. He wasn't gentle about it, sucking and biting without holding back. You cried out, your hips pausing their grinding motions, your system completely overloaded by his harsh actions on your sensitive nipple.

"Keep riding," he mumbled, not even taking your nipple out of his mouth as he spoke. 

You dragged your clit across his muscular thigh, whimpering loudly as you went. "Oh god, please, Minho! I need you inside me." 

"Then beg for it."

You wasted no time. "Please, Minho, please, please! I need your cock, I've never needed anything this bad. I know I'm just a filthy little slut but please give me what I need, fuck, I'll die if you don't!" 

"You really are a filthy slut," he agreed, lifting you from his thigh and laying you on his bed. 

"Yes, yes, please Minho!" you babbled.

He pulled your underwear down, leaving you completely naked before him, before tugging his own briefs off. 

Holy fucking shit, you thought.

His dick was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it - fucking beautiful. It was long, with a vein running along the underside, and the girth was decent too. The head was thick, and red, and if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you would've sucked on it for hours. 

"I know you want it," Minho said. "But do you deserve it?" He stroked his dick slowly, and you watched as the head disappeared into his fist, emerging again as his hand ran along his shaft.

"I don't know, but I need it," you insisted. "I'll do anything." 

Minho shook his head, but he looked smug. "Alright, baby. If you need it that badly."

"Yes, yes, yes," you chattered, intoxicated by a dick that you hadn't even felt yet.

He pushed your knees up to your chest, and you hooked your arms around them, holding them in position and peering down to watch his motions. "Such a perfect pussy." He rubbed the head of his dick across your clit, and you whined loudly. Distantly, you wondered if the sounds of the frat party below would even be enough to drown out your incessant noises of pleasure. It was irrelevant, though; you didn't care enough to stop.

He dragged his dick through your folds, over your hole, back up to your clit. Minutes ago, you would've killed a man to have Minho touch your pussy, but already you wanted more. He made you so greedy. It felt good but your thirst for more was unbearable, intolerable.

"Alright, baby, are you ready?"

"Yes!" you cried out.

Slowly, he sunk the tip of his dick inside you - just the tip. Thick as it was, it slid in with hardly any protest. He sighed as it went in, clearly needing the sensation more than he let on.

"More," you pleaded.

"You'll take what I give you, when I'm ready to give you it." Minho saw you roll your eyes at this, but said nothing.

He pushed the head in and out of your hole, never putting more than two inches inside. 

"Please give me the whole thing, Minho!"

He simply shook his head. "You wouldn't be able to handle it. Dumb baby."

"I can handle it!" you insisted. "I swear I can!" 

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow that told you he was unconvinced. "You can?" You nodded. "You're gonna cry like a little baby." 

"Just give me your stupid dick right now!" 

Minho laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, baby. Here comes my stupid dick."

He held your legs down against your chest, and slammed his whole length inside you. You saw stars. He thrusted, hard and fast, and you were somewhat aware that you were moaning probably louder than you ever had before, but all you could truly focus on was his cock filling you up. He was hitting your g-spot on every single thrust, grunting as he fucked you.

"God, you're tight," he groaned. He re-positioned his hips, and somehow managed to hit deeper. You felt him against your cervix, and cried out in pain.

"Too much," you weakly protested as your eyes filled with tears. 

"I thought you could handle it?" he said, his voice lacking any sympathy. "Fucking pathetic, begging for a cock you couldn't even take." 

"I-I can, just not so deep."

Minho smirked down at you. "It's not my fault my dick's so big," he said, but adjusted his thrusts slightly anyway. 

"I can take it," you promised. "I-I can take anything you give me, Minho."

"That's right, baby. My filthy little whore." His voice was calm, but his eyebrows were furrowed and sweat was dripping down his forehead - the pleasure was overwhelming him just as much as it was destroying you. 

Minho leaned down, connecting his mouth to yours as he fucked you. You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help but moan. His dick fucking your pussy, his tongue fucking your mouth. This was heaven, you were sure of it.

He pulled away. "You think you could take some more?" 

"More?" you asked, eyes wide. 

"Just a little more. For me?"

You nodded hesitantly.

Minho paused his thrusts, but before you could whine in protest, you felt his finger rubbing at your opening. Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside, along with his dick. The painful stretch was incredible, and you whimpered at the feeling. 

"There you go, babe," he said, beginning to thrust once more. He closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. "Fuck, this is nice and tight."

You were barely even lucid at this point. You babbled incoherently, unaware of what you were even trying to say. You were completely and utterly spellbound by his dick, by the sweet burning stretch. 

"Touch yourself for me, baby," Minho directed you. 

"F-Fuck- I don't know if I can-"

"I thought you wanted to be my sex slave, hm? Pretty little slaves do as they're told." 

You whined, but obeyed his command. "M-Minho… I'm gonna cum if I keep going."

Minho barked out a laugh. "Cum then. I don't care. But don't take your fingers off that pussy, not even for a second."

You were beginning to think that maybe you weren't cut out for this. You hadn't even reached your climax yet, and already the overstimulation was too much. Your stretched out pussy was throbbing, and you jolted each time Minho's dick pounded your g-spot. You were drenched, covered in your own sweat as well as Minho's, which was dripping onto you from his hair, his forehead, his neck. The air in the room was thick, and smelled entirely of Minho - you were covered in him. He looked like a god above you, fucking into you like it was his life's mission.

It was too much for you to handle, without a doubt. And yet, you'd be happy to spend the rest of your life underneath him. Or on top of him. Or in any position which meant his dick could be inside you.

"Minho… Minho!" you whimpered.

"C'mon, baby," he encouraged you, his voice strained. From the sounds of it, he wasn't far from finishing either - although you got the sense he could keep going all night if he willed himself to. "Cum around my cock like the dirty little whore you are." 

That was all the prompting you needed.

Your ears started ringing. You let the almost unbearable feeling of ecstasy wash over you, flooding Minho’s cock. You knew you were crying out maybe a bit too loudly - but you didn’t care, thrashing in Minho’s hold and grasping the bedsheets for dear life as he fucked you through it. He didn’t slow his pace, riding out your intense orgasm caused by the man of your dreams and making you feel as if you’d been set on fire.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Minho crooned, continuing to fuck you as he went after his own orgasm. You could only manage a high-pitched whine in response. "Just a little longer, baby, you can do it. Just lie there and let me use your tight little pussy, that's it." His voice was hoarse, and the veins on his neck were prominent. You knew he was going to cum soon, but you didn't know if you could hold on. You were over-sensitive to the point of pain, hands gripping Minho's bed sheets.

"Cum - give me your cum," you urged Minho. "Now, please."

His eyes widened. Your command had seemed to catch him off guard a bit. He pulled out of you, and you watched as thick ribbons of pearly white cum oozed onto your abdomen. You gasped gently as you watched. It was perhaps the most beautifully erotic thing you'd ever seen. His dick was definitely a contender for the prettiest one you'd ever fucked, and his cum was thick and heavy, dripping from the tip like a waterfall.

"Thank you," you whispered. He leaned in, kissing you deeply. He tasted like sweat, hot and sticky, and you moaned. 

He pulled away, before planting one more kiss on your forehead. "You're welcome."

Minho stood, going to the other side of his room. You tried to follow him with your eyes, but you felt so weak and tired that they slipped shut immediately. He returned seconds later, and you lay still, sighing as he cleaned you up. His touch was so gentle, so soothing, so different than it had been just minutes before.

"That better?" he asked, discarding the towel.

You nodded. "You want me to go crash with Felix?" you asked, unsure of what exactly this arrangement was.

"Nah, you reek of sex. Felix wouldn't want you." He helped you climb under the covers. "Plus, I wouldn't mind some company tonight." He slid into bed beside you, and you rolled over, laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, and you felt incredibly safe secure, especially considering just how utterly terrified you'd been of this man a few hours ago.

You giggled softly, so tired and fucked out that you felt a little delirious. "Can't believe you fucked me, Minho."

Minho gave a short laugh. "Can't believe you convinced me to fuck you so easily. You're a little minx. I really wanted to play with you some more."

You nestled into his chest. "I guess there'll have to be a next time then, huh?" 

"Yeah," he agreed. "If you're lucky."

"You wanna fuck me again, Minho, I know you do," you mumbled. "I saw the look in your eyes when you came. You need my pussy."

Minho was silent for a few seconds. "You're awfully bold for someone who was crying on my cock ten minutes ago."

"...Yeah." 

"Get some sleep, sweetheart." No more than ten seconds later, you were sleeping in his arms. 

You slipped into the land of dreams, where you went on to fantasise about Minho - his thighs, his neck, his tummy, his hands. His kisses, his touches, his dick in your throat, in your holes. Minho everywhere. Were you completely insatiable? Maybe. But it seemed very likely that he'd give it to you again. In your sleep, you smiled.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @secretjj @phtogravi @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan

#lee know #stray kids #lee minho #lee know x reader #minho x reader #skz minho #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #minho smut #stray kids smut #stray kids frat au #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #minho fic #lee know fic #billy's fics ☆ #hot bitch summer: makes me dizzy

[rebelfell]

A li’l self-indulgent bestfriend!eddie fluff. Reader w/ boobies.

Eddie’s not a total pig, okay?

He can control himself just fine when necessary. He’s fully capable of maintaining a conversation without his brain short circuiting at the sight of something that makes all the tiny Eddie’s in his head run around like chickens with their heads cut off. That is…except for right now.

Because right now there are boobs in front of his face. And not just any boobs. Your boobs.

“Eddie!” You huff loudly and drop your shirt. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

He blinks a few times, reluctantly coming out of his daze to look up at you and the appalled frown on your face. His cheeks burn with his humiliation and his mouth falls open as he stammers through his attempt to recall what you just said.

You roll your eyes, sighing all heavy and petulant as you climb off his bed.

“Hey!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up to really sell the ruse of being offended. “You’re the one whipping out your bits all willy nilly. Can’t exactly expect me to concentrate.”

Over your shoulder you fix him with a glare and snatched up one of his Hellfire figurines to chuck it at him. The freshly painted figure ricocheted off his elbow as he threw his arms up in front of him, fighting back giggles as you scolded him.

“I came to you for advice, not to be ogled!”

Well, that was your first mistake, Eddie thought to himself. Because when it came to you there was no scenario that didn’t involve ogling.

“I’m sorry. Okay? I…I got distracted. But that’s what you’re going for, right? Weren’t you asking if they look good?”

“It’s not about whether they look good, I just…I need to know if they look even.”

Even? Even, how? Even more fucking incredible than normal? Even more mouth-watering? Even better than what Eddie’s been imagining more and more over the last few years.

“Even, how?” he asks.

“Like…normal.” You groan. “He says one of them is way bigger and I thought maybe this bra would minimize the problem.”

“Problem?” Eddie snorted. “There’s not a single fucking problem with them.”

You roll your eyes at him again, but it’s not quick enough to hide the smile that started to blossom on your lips when he says that. Eddie’s bed frame squeaks in protest as he hops off the bed and comes to stand in front of you, solemn and serious in a way he almost never is.

“Sweetheart…they’re perfect.”

You’re perfect, he wants to say.

A little pride creeps into your voice as you tilt your head gently and glance briefly down at your own chest before looking back at him.

“Really?”

“Really, really. Literally, maybe, definitely, the greatest ones I’ll ever see in my life.”

A laugh bubbles out of his chest and you honestly feel like you’re going to melt into the carpet under your feet. And suddenly you can’t remember for the life of you why you even bothered with this other guy in the first place.

Because the guy you bought this stupid fancy bra for has never called them, or anything on you for that matter, perfect. And he’s never looked at you the way Eddie is looking at you.

You bit down gently on your bottom lip, absently walking your fingers along the edge of Eddie’s dresser, scratching at the chipped paint.

“Do you, um…do you think you got a good enough look?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction

[hana-no-seiiki]

More dommy mommy reader!

this time, using some lines from makima’s jp cv’s asmr and devil wears prada scenes. pretty sure i wrote this scenario before but like a long time ago, and just in headcannons so.

YANDERE! BATFAM x DOMMY! MOMMY! READER

You do not think Bruce Wayne was completely aware of the logistics when it came to Galas. If he did he wouldn’t be holding so many of those damn things all the time.

“I’m so sorry, Miss [Y/N]! I really did confirm last night.”

“Tales of your incompetence do not interest me.”

But maybe you shouldn’t be blaming him, but the lack of tact, wit, or remarkable capability the entire staff had. Then again, it’s because you’re always around the Batfamily that your standards for competency were so high.

“Miss [Y/N]!” You heard someone call out to you.

The assistant behind you visibly tensed. Anyone with a brain on them knew not to bother you during work. Hell, any thing that could breathe knew not to approach you when you were swamped with work (which was usually all the time)

“Drake, let me go.”

“Damian. Stay.” Damian doesn’t even notice the condescending way his father reprimanded him, jealousy consumed him entirely. He only saw red.

“How can you be so calm about this? They’re practically smothering her!”

“There’s a reason why Miss [Y/N] was picked to be Alfred’s successor y’know. Beyond just family ties.” Dick caressed Damian’s hair. “She values professionalism above all. She’ll reject them right about now…”

“You . . . love me?” You parroted back. Your features do not budge an inch.

“Y-yes. I’ve been —“

You interrupt, frankly too busy to listen to their rambling, “Then pray.”

“Huh?”

“You love me right? Then pray that I love you. Beg if you have to.”

Despite their flustered almost angered reaction to your command, your admirer felt their knees turn into a soggy noodle like substance. Their heart practically leapt at the opportunity to obey you.

“Only God will make me consider.”

Not even a moment passed before you were back to your duties, the confession long gone from your thoughts, “Tell Timothy for the 48th time, no. I do not want those devices of him in my room, and if I find another one I’m promptly sending in my resignation. Has Bruce confirmed?”

“Uh- oh!” The intern snapped out of their daze, scribbling furiously on their notepad.

You finally stopped where the guys were at, a bit befuddled by the way they were staring holes at you. Damian practically had a mix of panic, relief and anger painted all over him. “Yes, how may I be of assistance to you, young master?”

“I- I’m fine.”

“Richard, make sure to confirm your attendance.” You glared at the eldest brother.

He saluted in response, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Busy day?” Jason inquired, an attempt at small talk if you will.

“Busy day.” You swiftly cut off his olive branch. After making sure none of the men needed your presence with a quick once over, you make a bow and left. Your voice, though soft could still be heard, “Do I smell freesias? If, I see, freesias anywhere I will be verrryyy disappointed —“

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #dommy mommy reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere scenario #batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere damian wayne x reader

[punchliiine]

so, i keep getting asks in my inbox about whether shifting is real or not. hello? i mean it when i say it is real. shifting is real. idc how many posts people create in order to make you feel like it's not real or that it's just a teenage phase. it is real.

i have shifted plenty of times. i can fucking promise you that it's real. it will not be blurry or fuzzy or distorted or anything that might come close to a dream. it will not be astral projection, it will not be a psychotic episode or anything people (anti-shifters) say it is.

shifting is real, like so fucking real. and i completely understand how hard it is to trust strangers on internet. and not even strangers, TRUSTING AN IDEA THAT GOES BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION AND THIS REALITY. YOURE PUTTING YOUR FAITH INTO SOMETHING UNKNOWN.

BUT I PROMISE YOU I PROMISE YOU I PROMISE YOU SHIFTING IS REAL!!!!1

i have debunked and tried all those ways in order to find out if it's a lucid dreaming or whatever, i have tried them all. and they all proved to me that shifting is real.

i have healed myself of shit i couldn't have fucking imagined to ever leave me, shit that stained my soul. i have cried, laughed, snorted, breathed, screamed, talked, jumped, slept, touched.. i have lived. LIVED. and it was real, safe, and everything i've ever hoped for. I HAVE FINALLY LIVED FOR MYSELF.

i have met the man that i feel everything for, i touched his hands, i took pictures with him, i heard his voice and it was not something that could be disturbed by poor wifi. i even fucking know what shampoo brand he uses. i got to know him and he got to know ME as well. it is real. it is true. it is not impossible.

i felt it ALL. i promise you i did. ik my promises mean nothing since the whole idea of shifting is just crazy even if people tell you it's not. even if people say it's a religious practice and that it has existed for many years, it's still crazy and i get it. I HAVE BEEN THERE. but that doesn't make it not real.

it is real. those people are real. those experiences are real. everything is real. your scripts are real. shifting is real.

this is not a big inside joke nor is it a coping mechanism for covid or anyone that is mentally unwell. i know it demotivates you seeing tons of shifters trying for years with no progress. i know it demotivates you seeing people shit on shifting because we believe in something that is quite literally beyond everything we, as humans, have ever known. i know it demotivates you seeing tons of shifters saying that they were lying about their experiences and that shifting isn't real. but again, that doesn't mean shifting is not real.

i know these words are recycled and you've heard them plenty of times before, but there is nothing that i could do to make any of you believe me when i say shifting is real. i have had some experiences that me and my friends could vouch for, to prove that shifting is real BUT they could easily be rewritten as lies or me having 'telekinesis' or being set up or whatever. so i really don't wanna bother.

people will always ask for proof and will always try to debunk it, that's the way your brain works and i am not saying you're wrong for doing so or even asking for it. it's normal. but then again, even if i couldn't prove it to you or my attempts to prove it are 'debunked', it doesn't make shifting not real.

you can tell me shifting isn't real day and night, for eternity, but what i have experienced is not a lie. nor is it something that could ever come close to a lie. it is real life.

your belief or faith in shifting is unwavering because you haven't shifted, DUH??? THAT IS NORMAL!!!! but once you shift, come back to this very post and tell me how was it. was it something like a dream? or did you feel everything? consider it a dare.

i am not trying to make an anti-shifter believe, i couldn't care less. but if a shifter thinks about giving up and leaving their wildest dreams behind, please do not (i am going to kill you) do NOT. it is worth it. it is worth all of it and i bet my soul on it.

no matter how perfect your lucid dreams are, no matter how intense your maladaptive daydreams are, no matter WHAT. shifting is nothing of that sort. it is real. it is real. it is real.

i want you to just get out of wherever you are, stand in the wind, smell the air, pinch yourself, splash water on your shirt and feel how cold it gets, eat something sour, look at everything around you and notice the tiniest of details, look real close at a piece of wool and notice the tiny strings. see how you can experience all those in your cr? you can experience all those with shifting too, and infinitely more. shifting is THAT real.

it's okay to doubt, it's okay to need reassurance. it is 100% fine. but what's not okay is you constantly doubting your own power when you've been possessing it the moment you came into consciousness. you'll do wonders once you finally drop your doubts and just give it to yourself.

this is a recycled talk, i completely understand. but please just stop asking for confirmation, you ARE the confirmation.

#shift #shifting #reality shift #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting realities #shifters #shifting community #quantum jumping #desired reality #desired life #desired self #scripting #shifter #reality shifter #shifting thoughts #shifting rant #shifting motivation #shifting blog #realityshifting #shiftinconsciousness #shifting diary #shifting antis dni #multiverse #current reality

[glassrowboat]

Morning After

Authors note: This includes a variety of my own headcanons on these characters. The reader is gender neutral. This includes only the male harbingers, but I am willing to write one for the chicks too ^^

Capitano.

-The instant you stirred in your sleep, just the slightest twitch, and you were pinned to the mattress with a looming figure above you. His black hair tickled your skin, swaying back and forth from the sudden movement, but that was barely a concern when this man who had been so sweet with you last night was suddenly acting like a switch that flipped off in his brain. All you could tell was one discernable thing after the sudden surprise: there was no escape if he didn't want there to be.

-”Capitano?” You called out, voice hesitant and barely a whisper as fear choked back the ability to speak confidently.

-Immediately the tense nature that had over taken his form fell, shoulders no longer strung together as that soldier who had been pinning you down held you close and started apologizing for startling you.

-He didn't have to say it, he didn't want to, bit for a moment there the Captain had mistaken you for someone that crept into his chambers with ill intent. He's a soldier. War is what he's known for. This caution just comes with the territory.

-To make up for his own actions he makes sure you're well fed, given a hearty breakfast (one a little too big for you to fully eat but he doesn't mind giving you some Tupperware to take it home in) and tea.

-It's just he's a terrible conversationalist, barely talking as he just nods along to whatever you say, making you carry the flow the entire morning as he adds in an occasion “yes, interesting, or no.”

-At least he's handsome under that helmet.

Childe.

-Fell off the bed the moment he saw you, a shout falling from his lips from the surprise of the fall and well, this naked person in his bed.

-Why he didn't expect you to wake up and throw a pillow at his head for being so darn loud when you have a hangover? Well, only Celestia knows. Though he didn't bother to block it, simply accepted getting hit as it didn't even knock him back.. well that is if he didn't play along and dramatically fell down onto the floor.

-”Are you always such a drama queen?”

-”A guy can't play along with a joke?”

-Very sweet, but a little bit annoying as he asks about you in as many questions he can think of. What's your favorite color? What's your job?

-Admittedly Childe has never had a one night stand before so he doesn't know what to do in this position so when you give him a sweet smile and tell him to just to let you get dressed for now he goes to get a stray shirt for you.

-Definitely wants to see you again, and not just in the bedroom.

-”So where do you come from?”

-”Give me five minutes for fucks sake.”

Dottore.

-First off, what? He's aware each harbinger has their own little dedicated fan club, even him…for some reason. Yet for him to willingly bring someone, possibly one of them, to his bed? People aren't allowed in his personal quarters. Hell, he barely uses it himself, opting to sleep on that one couch in the laboratory. So why the switch in his normal behavioral patterns?

-(I personally see Dottore as a virgin so for this dweeb to lose it this way-)

-Admittedly, he's on edge from trying to remember what happened, the haze of sleep, and the shock of seeing someone he apparently trusted enough to bring to bed. It only made sense he was scowling at this sleeping body. It wouldn't be easy enough to just call it a new test subject, use the sheets as restraints to drag this stranger down to his lab and shove them in a cell but..

-Maybe not this time.

-Instead he gets up and throws on some clothes as quickly as possible, making sure to slot his mask in place despite the fact you have very obviously already seen what lies underneath. That and more.

-It has proven more useful than not to use that thing to hide his expressions.

- Depending on if he drank last night and that's what had him indulging in the warmth of another person's body, Dottore would have one of his clones stand by until you wake up. They can deal with the situation from there and take you home while he gets some caffeine in his body. An easy way to rid of a hangover and forget his newfound company.

-If it was a completely sober decision, Dottore no longer has the excuse that he simply got ahead of himself from the drink and would therefore be hostile in response. Unable to put up with this one bit, he would be telling his bed partner to get dressed and head home already so he can get back to work instead of watching over pointless little you.

-Don't try and say anything about possibly being emotionally attached, it would only anger him. Boy is not used to being open or vulnerable with anyone and you suddenly appearing and having held him so close last night would only set him off in the worst of ways.

Pantalone.

-First thing this man notices is he's just not as comfy as usual, somehow this mattress isn't right, he isn't sinking into the soft plush he spent thousands on. Not even his haze of grogginess was enough to make tossing and turning twist his body into comfort. (Goldilocks having motherfucker). So with a steady hand he reaches out to find his glasses on the nightstand, silver chains rattling on the surface as he pulls them close.

-A one night stand isn't an uncommon thing to the regrator, for him it's happened a small handful of times before but it's never something he's typically the better for in the morning. A man of his position caught slinking into a woman's bedroom as they drunkenly grope at eachother was far from a good look. Not to mention you never knew if the individual would keep their mouth shut.

-That has been a problem with one particular individual in the past that has henceforth been ‘dealt with.’

-But the person laying besides him was still conked out and wrapped in a good majority of the blankets the bedding had to offer. Well, a bit of a thief aren't they? Pantalone almost wanted to laugh but kept his mouth sealed shut, already knowing it's best not to wake you.

-Slowly he got up and out of the bed, trying to keep it from creaking too loudy, to put on last night's clothes. He'll take a shower and get changed into something clean later.

-With one last peak towards the stranger he spent the night with Pantalone slipped out of the front door.

Pierro.

-He's confused.

-Now he understands what happened, the sight of you naked and curled up into him is more than enough to make that clear; though your underwear basically on his favorite pillow definitely would have gotten the point across either way. But, like, him? You who look so much younger, livelier compared to what Pierro sees in the mirror every day after five hundred years haunting him.

-Maybe that joke the second made about people liking ‘older folks’ was based on reality.

-Would greedily allow himself to hold you in his arms for a time. It started with him first saying one minute, that's all he'd allow himself. Then that turned into five, then ten, then twenty. Eventually he would barely wish to nudge you awake even though he knows better.

-Don't go getting attached when there's so much left to do.

-When he finally did wake you up he did his best to make sure you wouldn't get startled, softly calling out the name he was given last night. It's just a shame you do, startling as your hand nearly wacked his face from sheer shock. (Though who can blame you? It's not everyday you blearliy open your eyes, vision still blurry as you take in a man with white hair and stars in his- wait is that the fucking Pierro? Oh fuck).

-The type to help you find your clothes and call for a cab so he knows you get home safely.

-Now all that's left is trying to figure out how to hide the hickey you planted on him.

Scaramouche.

-Let's be real here, you're not making it to the morning.

-He had no clue why he was allowing this, allowing a humans lips to fall to his own with such fevered need. In any other situation he'd be pushing them off, telling this person they're a useless worm that shouldn't ever have walked these lands if all they was going to do was use their life to paw at him. Oh but to worshipped was a delight.

-Kisses pressed to the wooden skin of his puppet body like small prayers to the God he will one day be. This is what humans are made for, aren't they? To give their all to a greater being. So readily Scaramouche let himself be tugged along as you pulled him to wherever you pleased, ready to lavish in the attention he so rarely got.

-A human isn't a threat after all.

-Yet when you tugged on his short, pulling them down just low enough for your mouth to eagerly await something filling it, everything took a turn for the worst.

-”Wait a minute, you don't have genitals?”

-And in a heartbeat you were struck with a bolt of lightning that had you dead on the spot.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #hoyoverse #x reader #capitano x reader #capitano #childe x reader #dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #scaramouche x reader #dottore #pantalone #childe #tartaglia x reader #gn reader #headcanons

[rklve]

RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART TWO

summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jeon jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around you forever.

➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut.

➣ pairing: chef!jk x veterinarian!reader

➣ 8.9k words

warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a mess. mutual pining. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. drinking. jk has a big dick. teasing. cursing. orgasm denial. fingering. breast play (jungkook is weak for tits). clit play. squirting. multiple orgams. hand kink. choking kink. oc loves tattoos, oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex (don't!!!). spitting. lots of prasing. confused feelings.

I can feel your touch, I remember your kiss, 그 말은 아팠지 and I miss you

part one | part two | drabble one

You run to the car once he gets inside and unlocks the door. Immediately you turn on the heater and the radio at the same time. It all feels natural, like riding a bike. The start might feel rusty, but once you get your feet on the pedal, your brain will take you to memory lane. It’s like you’ve always been there. Like you’ve never left.

Jungkook just stares, and then you realize what you’ve just done. “I-I’m sorry. Just thought you’d be freezing. And… old habits.” you stumble over the words and looks straight ahead with your eyes growing bigger from embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“‘S’fine.” Jungkook cuts you off before you start babbling again. Won’t admit he wanted you to do that. This is one of the things he misses the most. Ordinary stuff. You, taking care of him. You, choosing one of your favorite Justin Bieber's songs on his playlist so you two can sing it all loud on the way home. Just you. Being there.

“I’m at my parents tonight, by the way.” His stomach drops. he expected it, but it still hurts. It’s a bad sign. You’re leaving again soon. Just like you did on Christmas last year. Spent 3 days with your family and went back to Australia like nothing happened. At least that’s what he heard from Taehyung, ‘cause he wasn’t here to witness it. He had travelled with his parents back then. But now he‘s here, and he can hear his heart start cracking again just by the thought of it. He’s dumb. So fucking dumb.

“That’s the reason I didn’t want to bother you.” you sigh “I wanted to surprise them but they went to my aunt’s today. Some family celebration I’m not aware of.” you continue as you look past the car window “I found out when I got there and everything was locked up. So I decided to go to Lola’s but found out she was out with Jin for the weekend too. So I just left my baggage at her door and came to the cafe to spare some time ‘till my parents get b— I’m sorry, I’m just babbling shit as usual”

“Just go on, I’m listening” he says. Usually he’s the one talking thru his elbows but knows you do that when you’re nervous too. 

“Right. So, you can drop me off at my parents and I’ll get my stuff tomorrow at Lola’s, if that’s okay.” you look back at him now “I’ll wait till they come back home.”

“Have you lost your mind back in Melbourne?” he says looking at the road with a big frown displayed “Not gonna leave you alone by your parents door. In this fucking weather. I’d never do that.” he sighs “You know me better than that, Bee.”

You freeze as you hear him calling you that. Just like he did minutes ago when you called him by his nickname. It’s bellow the belt and he knows it. Probably the reason he said it at the first place. Or not. Maybe it’s just force of habit and he doesn’t even care about that nickname anymore.

“We’ll get your baggage and head to mine. You can stay and call your parents. Wait ‘till the rain calms down and I can take you there.” he says and waits to hear a no from you. But you stay quiet. “Or you can call an uber. Whatever you want. Okay?”

“Okay.” you say, still a little bit unsure. Doesn’t want to bother him. Mess with his plans for a friday night. Your parents house is kinda far from here. You say nothing anyway, ‘cause you also think it’s the safer way out of this situation right now.

He helps you pick up your stuff at Lola’s and head to the other apartment complex two streets away. The ride back to his house is quick and calm. It’s a one-song-away route. A route that is very known by you. You’ve been there so many times, it’s tattoed in your brain. Think you could find your way back there even if you’re blindfolded. 

Finally the two of you reach to his door, and you can already hear some sniffing on the other side. A few more seconds and an aggressive scratching follows. Jungkook opens the door and gets in with your bags. 

“Hey, buddy. Dad’s home.” You see the now giant dog lick his owners hand, then he looks at you and it’s pure euphoria. He runs fast and puts his big paws in front of you. The next thing you know you’re with your ass on the floor, feeling how much he missed you as he continually licks all over your face swaying his tail from side to side.

“I know baby, I know.” you giggle “I missed you too!” 

“Bam! Behave” Jungkook says startled by the way the puppy reacted to you. Quickly leave your bags on the corner of the living room and comes to your rescue. “You can’t just hoop on people like that, man. You’re too big!”

“It’s okay, he’s just a giant baby.” you say as you get up again and start caressing his plain caramel fur. 

“You okay?” he asks looking you up and down to see if you hurt yourself.

“Jungkook, I’m fine. You know I deal with animals all the time.”

He softly nods. Yeah, of course he knows. It’s the whole reason you left him anyways. For a fucking job offer. At some big ass veterinary hospital five thousand miles away. Out of the blue. Like he meant nothing to you. And just like that, everything goes back to him and he gulps away his anger. Doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable right now. You just got here. Can’t be okay with the idea of you leaving already.

So he just calls Bam and leads him to his separated room, where his food and little house are, alongside all of his toys. “Stay here a little bit, buddy. I’ll bring you out later okay?” 

It’s like Bam understand every word he says, as he goes inside his little house and lays down “Good boy.”

Jungkook decides to put some dry clothes before he goes back to you. Takes a little while to choose one, but denies it’s because he wants to make a good impression. Ends up with a plain black t-shirt anyways.

He’s back to the living room and sees you looking around the house with curiosity. It is quite different, you think. Not in a bad way. It’s more sophisticated. The new furniture gives that vibe. All grey-ish. You like it. Matches him and his Chef persona. His kitchen is gorgeous as well. So many more pans that before. One of each size. You still don’t know the bare minimum about it. They all do the cooking and that’s all.

“You hungry?” he asks, realizing you stopped your inspection at the kitchen but never left.

“Kinda.” you say, and right away your stomach growls loud and calls you by your lie. “Okay, very hungry.”

You both laugh and Jungkook starts to pick up his utensils. One of his biggest pans. A big ass spoon. A cutting board. You lost count of how many things he puts on the table.

“Need a hand?” you say, just to be sure. You both know you’re terrible at the kitchen. But you’re at least able to cut some vegetables.

“‘S’fine. You’re probably tired from the flight. Go take a rest.” he says already on multiple duties over the kitchen. You have no idea what he’s cooking, but trust him anyway. He knows what you enjoy like the back of his hand. Knows what you love to eat, and knows you love his food more than anything else in the world. 

So you just hum, silently agreeing with him.

You sit up at the couch, and realize it’s a new one too. It’s a big one, and still has that smell like a recently unfolded present. You turn on Netflix. Wonder if you’re too comfortable at this house when you shouldn’t. Are you two going to be friends now? Did he forgive you? Or is he just being kind? 

Trying to clean your head for a little bit you pick up your favorite tv show: School of Chocolate. It’s kinda addicting. You know Jungkook claims to hate it but secretly loves it. He always used to argue when you put it in and ended up seated alongside you mesmerized with those big ass sculptures. 

“Fuckin’ waste of chocolate.” he suddenly says back in the kitchen. He is able to see the tv from there as well, but he’s concentrated on cutting some bacon anyways. “And some of them can’t even do the easiest tasks. Ends up looking like dog’s poop”

“Are you spoiling me? I didn’t watch this episode yet!” you scream looking back at him “Can’t believe you watched it before me” you giggle “I’m probably the biggest fan of the show.”

“It came out yesterday” he quickly replies “you’re such a fake fan.”

You just puff, feeling insulted by his words.

“Just admit you only watch it ‘cause you think the Chef’s hot”

“Amaury is not my type” you pan back instantly but quickly regret it. What the fuck are you thinking, flirting with him? God, you’re so stupid. He must hate you right now. Definitely will kick you out hungry and cold on the street at any minute now. But Jungkook doesn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t hear it. If he did, he just plays dumb. Continues to prepare whatever he is cooking and leave you to watch it.

On the kitchen, Jungkook’s heart is beating thru his ears. Can’t believe he heard you. Heard you flirting. If it was a year ago, he would drop the dinner and go towards you. Kiss your smart mouth and laugh with you. Say you better not adore any Chef more than you adore him. Pull you back to the sofa. Kiss your pretty waist and take dessert before dinner is even served. 

But he can’t do that. ‘Cause you’re not his anymore. You’re not part of this reality anymore. His reality. You live in a whole new country now and he wouldn’t survive letting you in again knowing you’d leave him anytime soon. So he just shuts it down. Pretends he didn’t hear anything, ‘cause it’s better this way.

A couple of minutes later dinner is ready. He made your favorite dish. Coincidentally he had some vegetable broth ready-made in the refrigerator from Wednesday and the idea came up in his mind. He’s finishing the details and hears you entering the kitchen.

“Where do you put the plates now?” you softly say looking up at him.

“Above you, on your left.” he points out and you go for it right away. Picks up the cutlery and puts everything on the dinner table. His chest pangs, ‘cause it’s just like old times. You used to do this a lot together. Almost every weekend. Or whenever you crashed up at his. He loves to spoil you with his food. Kinda his love language, he figures now. 

He grabs the wine from the refrigerator. One of your favorites. He remembers this too. You’re not a big fan of wine but this one is so sweet you can’t refuse. You’re a sweet tooth after all.

“Mmm. Red wine. The sweet one. What are we celebrating?” you play around as you sit. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. Won’t admit he bought it thinking about you. Thought he would drink a whole bottle and you’d disappear from his mind like magic.

You didn’t.

“This one was sitting for a while here, gotta get rid of it. Swear nobody likes this shit but you, Bee.”

You try to ignore the nickname again. Tell yourself he only said it as a joke. The wine is sweet. You like sugar. You’re like an annoying bee. Everyone gets it. You’re just like any other bee. Not his Bee.

“Right. I’ll take this one with me then” you giggle softly.

Jungkook now is back with the huge pan and puts it in the middle of the table. By the smell of it, you’re guessing what it is. Your stomach too, as it growls again even louder than before.

“Are you starving yourself?” Jungkook jokes when he hears your hungry system.

“Haven’t eaten properly since I left home.” you giggle a little embarrassed but you can’t bring yourself to care much. Every once in a while you just forget to eat. You know it’s a bad habit and you’re trying to change that. Jungkook used to be your reminder. You used to eat so well when the two of you were together. Your rough routine made you have cookies for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. Quick things to match up with your quick schedule. But Jungkook took care of you. Sent messages thru the day reminding you to buy something. Drink water. Often sent food to your job. Sometimes he would cook himself and leave on the refrigerator so you could take it with you on the next day. You miss being taken care of. You miss being with him.

“You mean you haven’t eaten real food for more than 15 hours?” he says, now upset. “For God’s sake, Bee. You can’t do that.” 

You could get sick. Could pass out in the middle of the street. Could hurt yourself. He can’t bare the thought of you getting hurt, and it really upsets him.

You sense the change in his aura so you quickly change de subject. “Fuck off! you made risotto?”

Jungkook just hums, pouty. Still angry at your self-destruction actions. Angry he can’t do anything about it. Puts a good portion for you and for him in the plates. Beautifully arranged just like he does at the restaurant. Knows you like to take pictures so he follows your concept blindly. Guess you’d like to save in the memory lane.

And he guessed it right. You grab your phone instantly and take a couple of pics, but you won’t post it. Will keep it just for you.

“Where’s your glass?” you say after observing he only brought one glass to the table.

“I said I would take you to your parents, dummie.” he plays around, but he’s serious. He won’t drink and drive. His mom would cut his balls out. Your father too.

“Shut up, I can take an uber later. Get yourself one.”

“No, I really don’t mind.” he says stubbornly.

“If you don’t drink, I won’t drink either.” you pouty say and he wonders. Flips his piercing with his tongue for a second. Doesn’t want you to go home with an uber late at night. He will figure something about later. Maybe he can drink half of a glass and then sober up so he can drive you. Just know he can’t resist that face of yours right now, so he gives in a heartbeat.

“You’re the devil.” he chuckles and grabs a glass for himself. Pours a little bit for the two of you. “You’re lucky I like this wine with risotto.”

Then you two start eating. You make your silly little dance with your shoulders. Always do that when you enjoy the food. Jungkook thinks it’s the cutest thing in the word. Best reward he could ever get. Would cook every day and every night to see you this happy.

“This is so good.” you hum away “you’re the best of the bests. The most talented chef in the world. You’re gonna be a superstar someday.”

“Ani.. Stop it!” Jungkook shyly says, his two hands on his face hiding the bunny smile you know he’s carrying. 

“I mean it. You will be.” you take a sip of the wine and continues. You know he likes to downplay himself. “I’m talking 3 Michelin stars restaurant.”

“One sip and you’re already talking nonsense.” he giggles. Knows it’s your way of thanking him for the meal but he just can’t take complements like a normal person. Is too shy, even with you. 

“Shut up. I’m a big girl now. I could drink this bottle up and still rap to an Eminem song.” You laugh away and Jungkook just follows. Both of you know it’s bullshit. You’re a terrible drinker. Two glasses in and you would be giggling every 3 seconds. 

The two of you just stay like this. Talking nonsense. Bickering. Laughing away. Jungkook doesn’t know what time is it, but the rain is still pouring outside. A little bit less angry now, but still. The bottle is almost empty. He doesn’t know when you both stoped counting how many glasses you’ve drank. Doesn’t care anyway. Just wants to spend more time with you like this. Like there’s no real life outside that door. Like you’ve never left. Like you never will.

Eventually Jungkook takes the now empty pan and the two glasses to the sink. Hears you picking up the plates and seconds later you’re by the sink as well. He goes out to pick up the empty bottle of wine to throw it in the trash. When he comes back to the kitchen, you’re already washing the dishes; Drunk and hapilly humming the song you eventually put in between the dinner. Swaying away your perfect molded hips. Jungkook’s mind is fuzzy. Can’t think straight. But he knows damn well he can’t blame it on the wine. He would be like this even if he had no alcohol. You’re the one intoxicating him.

“What are you doing?” he murmurs softly behind you, just above your ear. You can feel his hot breathing and it makes your skin instantly hot too. The damn butterflies you feel every time he’s near are awake again. They’re anxious. Excited. 

You turn half of your face to him and say “I’m helping you, silly. I know you hate this part.” 

Jungkook gets a little bit closer. Doesn’t touch you, but he can smell your perfume more clearly now. Takes another step and he is able to smell your shampoo too. Strawberries. He loves it so much. Always have.

He can’t hold you, otherwise he won’t be able to let go. So he puts his hands around you, grabbing the corner of the sink. “You don’t have to, baby” he husks “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

You’ve got goosebumps, but you pretend. Pretend hearing him call you that didn’t almost give you a heart attack. Pretend you did not listen to his complains too, and keep washing everything. You’re almost finished. Then you can sit down. Maybe talk. Tell him everything you couldn’t a year ago. Tell him everything you need to tell him now.

But then, you feel his nose on your hair. Caressing throught it. It’s an old habit of his. You know he likes your shampoo, and you’ve never changed it. 

“You smell so good, Bee.” your mind is going wild. Don’t know what you should do. You can’t fake it anymore. Blame it on the wine, but the last thing you want to do is to have a conversation right now.

You finish the dishes. Clean your hands and tries to think straight. Gives up.

“Jungkook…” you softly say.

And just like that, he comes a little bit closer. His buffed chest on your back now. “Mmm?”

He can’t hold it back. He misses you like a fucking junkie and you are the drug on display. Right at his face. 

Meanwhile, you lean into his body. Your eyes are closed like you’re trying to get out of your foggy mind. Trying to do the right thing. He thinks this is the right thing. Does not care about breaking his heart tomorrow. He can deal with it later. His heart needs you now. He can just pretend for a little and everything will be fine.

So he closes the little gap that still exited between the two of you. Grabs you by the waist and looks down at your face. Waits for you response. You open your eyes instantly, and all he sees is red. Lust. Passion. Need. He knows those eyes. And he knows that’s what you’re feeling, ‘cause he feels it too.

But he’s still careful. His hands roam all over your body when he kisses your cheek softly. Feels his lips tingling with the sensation. Takes it to your neck. Knows exactly where your sweet spot is, and that’s what he aims. Takes a little while there now. Sucks a little bit. Your skin feeling hot under his lips. He drags his tongue slowly over the same spot. Hears you hissing and feels proud. Feels his cock throbbing too, happy with the sounds you make.

Jungkook softy turns your head and your lips are almost touching. You’re so close you can feel his breath like it’s your own. Your lips are begging you to go forward, but you’re scared to screw things up. So you bite your lip back.

“Fuck it.” he says and takes the first step. Holds your face with his palm and crash your lips together. It’s like you’re both starving for years as you sigh relived when your tongues meet. The kiss is passionate. Your lips molding each other, dancing together like they’ve never stopped. Like they’ve always done. Like you’re made for each other. You can’t get enough of him. He can’t get enough of you. So many feelings flowing thru a simple kiss. So you just go on and on and on. Deepens it, if it’s possible. Arms wrap around his neck, your fingers lost on his soft locks. Want him to know how much you care about him. How sorry you are. How much you miss him.

And he gives back. Kisses you like it’s his final act on earth. Kisses you like a starved man. Kisses you like you’re everything to him until he feels his lungs failing him, so he backs up a little to catch a breath.

“I think—“ you start saying, but suddenly you stop. His tattooed hand grabs your throat. Doesn’t strangle you, just puts it there. Caresses it. Let you know that he has made up his mind. That he knows all your weaknesses — that being one of them. He knows how to make you feel good and he’s silently now begging you to give in too.

“Don’t.” he husks and now squeezes your neck. Just enough to make that little spot in your brain tell you’re pleasured by the action. You gasp and let out a broken moan as he continues, now adding little love bites on your shoulder. His bulge growing behind you. So you finally do what you’ve been craving for the whole night.

Jungkook feels you start to rub your ass on his crotch slowly, but firmly. “Shit, baby.” He moans. Feels so fucking horny. Can’t remember the last time he was this hard. Thinks he will nut his pants like a fucking virgin if you keep this up. But he doesn’t care. Wants more. Wants you. So he starts to roll his hips too, meeting you halfway.

“Jungkook” you say with that pretty tone of yours. He knows you. Knows what you want, but he needs to hear it.

“What is it, baby?” he whispers against your ear now. The hand that was in your throat now travels south. It teases you. Goes around your breast. Acts like he will, but does not touch it. He wants you needing. Wants you begging.

“Please.” you say unquiet.

“Use your big girl words, Bee.” he plays around. Sucks your ear lobe. “Say it.”

“Want you to touch me.” you finally say.

“Good girl.” he husks, then turns you over. Grabs you by your waist and sits you on the counter. Puts himself between your thighs. Pulls you closer. Looks at you with his pretty big eyes. Wanting. Expecting.

“Kiss me.” you say and he wastes no time to do so. Kisses you again. Even more fervently than before. Wants you to remember. Bites your lower lip and sucks your tongue. Knows it drives you crazy. You moan into the kiss and he mirrors you. Feels pleasure seeing you this turn on. Wants to keep doing it till he’s fucking six feet under. Feels so blessed seeing you like this after all this time.

You grab his thick hair, pining it like you know he enjoys and he hisses into your mouth. His fingers dig deeper on your skin and you know it’s gonna leave marks.

“You drive me fucking insane.” he says as you pull away, looking at you with half his eyes open, lust exhales from all his pores. You give him a little smirk in return. Loves seeing him like this. All needy. All yours.

He takes back the control. Now he’s the one pulling your hair and you let out a loud moan from the pleasure. You love this. Your core is aching, pussy clenching around nothing trying to get some relief, so you know your body loves it too;

His mouth quickly follows your now exposed throat and kisses it. Sucks. Bites. Leaves tiny nips all over. Does whatever he wants with it, ‘cause he knows it gets you soaked up. Just thinking about it makes him needier so he starts to unbutton your pants, looking back at you to make sure you’re okay with this and you give him silent nods with that pretty little smile on you face.

He wants this moment to last forever, so he takes his time. Looks down on you ‘cause it feels like forever since he last saw you like this. You’re wearing a pretty lacy pink underwear. It’s like you want him dead. “Fuck you.” he says, still looking at your covered pussy with the cute underwear. You giggle a little bit. Knows he loves pink on you, says it enhances your skin color.

The hand that was on your hair starts to explore, travels across your throat and gives one final squeeze as he kisses your lips, bites it down, lick the swollen lip as the hand continues to go down. Takes a little step back and pulls up your shirt. Quickly gets back where he belongs and his lips are on you chest. Little pecks all over it. Teasing. Savoring. Jungkook claims himself a butt guy, but he swears he could happily die between those tits.

Both of his hands are on your covered breasts now. He cups them and starts to salivate with the view. Needs to suck it or he will die. So he takes off your matching bra and instantly puts his lips around your nipple. Sucks it like an obsessed man. Growls as he feels it harden against his tongue so he bites it. Wants to hear you scream from pleasure and so you do.

“Jungkook! Fuck!” you say as you arch your back, giving him more access to your tits. One of your hands grab the corner of the sink for support, the other is pinning his dark locks like your life depends on it. With his right hand Jungkook rubs the neglected breast. Slaps it and pinches the hard nipple across his thumbs. You let another loud moan and you can feel your pink underwear sticking. “Koo..”

And then he looses it. Can’t hear you all needy, calling him that. Does something to his mind and his dick. Knows it is rock hard under his pants right now. He has to do something about it, but the only thing he can think of is you. Giving you pleasure. Make sure you remember how good he is to you. Make you never want to leave again.

So with that in mind he kisses his way down. Kisses your pretty belly. Get on his knees and open your legs. Kisses your inner thighs. Looks over and you’re biting down your lips, looking like a fucking sex goddess. He’s crazy about you. Thinks he might as well fucking die if he can’t get this view for the rest of his life.

He goes a little further, aiming to the sweet spot between your legs. Put his nose on it so he can smell you. “Fuck. Missed this pussy so much.”

You whine at his words. You missed having him like this too. Heart thrums against your ribs when you sense his face closer into the warm of your cunt. He puts the underwear aside and licks your dripping folds just once. Slowly. Wants to savor you like fine wine. Groans when it hits his taste buds. “Swear this is the sweetest thing i’ve ever put my mouth on.”

You giggle, ‘cause you know he’s exaggerating. Such a Jungkook thing to do. “That’s big coming from you, Chef.” he looks back at you and smirks. “You don’t believe me” he leaves one bite on your thigh as a retaliation for not believing his words. Then gets up again. Grabs the back of your head and kisses you. It’s all messy. Wants to show you how sweet you are on his tongue. How addicting it is.

Suddenly he breaks the kiss and looks at you. Puts his fingers on your lips. “Open.”

You love his dom persona, so you obey immediately. Take his fingers like you know will get him imagining things. Licks it, slowly. Shows him what you could be doing on another part of his body. He takes this as a challenge. “You’re a tease, aren’t you?”

He won’t let you get away, tho. Finally strips you out of the underwear and takes his wet fingers down your cunt. Presses your swollen clit, rubbing his thumb over it painfully slow and suddenly you don’t feel like playing anymore. “Jungkook, don’t tease me.”

And for once he does as you ask without second thoughts. Puts his fingers inside your tight pussy and starts pumping inside you. You meow like the pretty kitty you are. “S-shit.. so good…”

He takes his pace, goes faster and his dick twists on his sweatpants with the sloppy sounds the movements take out of your pussy. His fingers are soaked up as he feels you start to milk them, chasing your high.

“P-please don’t stop. Oh my g-good!”

And then he does. Kinda feels wicked when you open your now teary eyes as he pulls out but he swears he will make it up to you. “I hate you.”

He just giggles and gets on his knees again.

“Want my dessert now.” he huskily whispers.

Before you notice, your thighs are on his shoulders and his face is on your pussy again. He’s eating you out like a literal dessert. Licks your folds with his hungry tongue and gets you moaning like crazy. “Could eat this pussy every fucking day.” he says, then puts his tongue flat on you clit. You know the drill. Have done this so many times before and just the thought of if gets you dripping even more. “Ride my face, baby.”

And so you do. Grab his hair with both of your hands and hold him on the perfect spot. He starts to move the tip of his tongue on your nub and you match his movements with your hips. Both of you get more and more turned on as you grind yourself further into his face.

“So good, baby. Shit…” you whimper and he moans into your clit when he hears your words. Puts his lips around it. Bites it. Suckes like his life depends on it. You don’t stop your hips from chasing your high, nudging at his nose and it’s the final act for you to come undone. “Jungkook, fuuuck!” you scream and pulls his hair tight when the pleasure wave washes you. You keep riding his face slowly and he gives your pussy kitty licks prolonging your high. You sigh relieved. He keeps drinking your sweet slickness till the last drop. Moans tasting your juice like it's the very first time. Takes his face back and he’s all covered in you, from his nose to his chin. It’s the hottest thing in the world.

He cleans himself with the back of his hand and suddenly picks you up bridal style, heading to his bedroom. You're taken by surprise, but you love when he manhandles you.

"What are you doing?" you ask still a little big foggy with the afterglow.

"Taking you to inaugurate my new bed" he giggles a little bit.

"Jungkook! That's disgusting!"

"I want your smell on it, what’s wrong?" he says naturally, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You don't want to get your hopes up 'cause you still haven't talked, but he's not making it easy for you.

You look up at him and just can't hold your stupid smile back. He's so gorgeous. The most beautiful man you've ever seen. His pretty little dimples are peeking 'cause he has a little smile on his face too. You realize you love every little detail there is about Jungkook. His beautiful moles; the one on his chin, on his neck, on his cheek. The tiny scar he got from a silly fight with his brother. His bunny teeth. His big, beautiful starry brown eyes. Yeah, you're never getting over this goof. It's humanly impossible.

So you just accept your fate. Whatever this night might bring, you’ll go for it. Heartbreak or healing. There’s no going back now.

Jungkook puts you down on his bed and just stares at you by the end of it. Still fully clothed, also wears that silly smile on his face. Gosh, he’s so fucking perfect.

You just grab him by his t-shirt and pull him closer. He almost falls over you but uses his arms to hold his weight. Towers over you but keeps staring. The previous smile washed away from his face now, and you’re scared he’s already regretting everything.

It’s intense, the way he looks at you. Got you curling your toes in excitement. In fear. In anticipation.

So you just avert your eyes to his pretty pillowy pink lips. Specifically to the mole under it, and you feel like kissing it like you used to.

In the meantime he starts undressing. Takes off his t-shirt and you gasp as you realize he has some new tattoos. One on his chest and more on his shoulder. All of the old ones are colored too. More alive. It’s so pretty.

“You colored them.” you say softly, letting your fingers go across all of them.

“Needed to put some color in my life somehow.” he responds quietly. Like he wanted to say more, but choose to hold it down.

You look back at him and the atmosphere is fuzzy again. There’s no going back from this, really. Not when he’s this close to you. Not when you feel your heart thrumming so fast it might explode. Not when you’re back here again, in his arms.

So wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. You need to be sure. “Do you want me?”

You’re so close you can feel his broke sigh when he says, “More than anything.” And then kisses you.

Not like a hungry man now.

Worst, like a man in love.

Kisses you awfully slow, twisting his tongue perfectly with yours. Sucks the life out of you. Got you moaning when he pulls out and licks your under lip as well. He grabs the back of your head and guides you into delicious positions for the kiss. It’s dreamy. It’s fulfilling. It’s everything you missed.

Jungkook can’t take it anymore, so he pulls himself down on you. Instantly feels your excitement wetting his sweatpants and his dick throbs for more of it.

He starts to grind against your fully naked pussy and you meow into the kiss, still feeling sensitive. Feels so good tho, so you start grinding back on him. What’s left of your cum mixing with arousal, making it even more satisfying for the both of you.

“So greedy…” he husks “Can never get enough, can you?”

You just nod, biting your lips. Feeling even more turned on by his low voice talking shit right now. You need him as soon as possible. So you keep going. Your both taking a pace now. “For god’s sake, take these off”

Jungkook feels his cock aching, burning, wanting. His balls might be petrified right now. Need you or he might die. So he just obeys. Backs off and throws it all away. Goes back to you instantly.

Starts to kiss you again, ‘cause he can never get enough of that sweet taste of yours. It’s like heaven on earth. His body grows hot and electrified as he feels your pussy clenching when he puts his hard dick between your folds. Keeps teasing, just cause he can. Wants to make you suffer a little bit more.

You break the kiss and whine into his ear. “Don’t be mean.”

He giggles and bites down on your left shoulder.

“I won’t, baby.”

His body says otherwise tho, as he slowly eases into you and and stops with just the tip inside. The feeling of his dick intruding your small hole is enough to make goosebumps rise all over his body and his breath to falter “Shit.”

“Koo..”

“Patience is a virtue, y’know.” he says, trying to command his heart to function like a normal person’s organ again.

“I don’t care about virtues right now, nerd” you joke and hear him tsc.

“You’ll never learn to not be sassy when you’re under me, will you?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, though. Fills you up abruptly and you gasp with surprise. It’s so fucking delicious that got both of you moaning in sync.

“Fuck, you’re just as tight as I remember” he says “You okay?”

“Yes,” you say desperately with a broken voice. You need him to move.

And so he does. Suddenly picks up his pace and starts to bottom you out. Fill you up. Repeat. His big dick stretching you out deliciously even better than you remember it did. Your mind did no justice to his talent at all. It’s like he was made for you. Understands your body and soul perfectly. Fits you perfectly. Makes you want more and more and more.

He grabs one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder, getting both of you in a nasty position that got him growling and you drooling.

Oh, he knows perfectly where your sweet spot is.

“Fuck, that’s it, Jungkook.” He smirks when he sees you loosing your mind. Knows it won’t take a while for you to come undone since he’s hitting your most sensitive point right now. With his other hand he puts a hand on your throat and squeezes it. Feels you milking his dick and moaning low.

“My baby likes to be strangled, huh?” he murmurs “Such a dirty girl”

You moan even louder as you feel him going faster. His endurance is crazy and you know it. Got you crawling up the walls every time.

“Tell me,” he says in between the thrusts “Tell me how good it is, Bee.”

“So fucking good, baby” you pan back, completely lost in pleasure right now. Your eyes are closed, all you see is the red starts he makes you see with every sweet thrust in your throbbing cunt.

He let down your leg and comes closer to you. Gives your neck little pecks and goes back to face you.

“Look at me.”

And so you open your eyes. He’s looking at you that same way. The loving way.

You can’t take this. Your heart can’t take this. Him, looking at you like that. Him, being the most precious human being there is. Him, being the greatest decision you’ve ever done. ‘Cause that just reminds you how you’ve ruined everything.

It’s like he feels your swipe of feelings so he slows the movements and gives you one sweet kiss before pulling out. Grabs you by the hips, putting you on top of him. You’re on charge again. It’s your decision, he’s silently saying.

With both of your thighs strangling his body and your hands around his neck you stop in front of him. Don’t do anything. Just admire him. Want to keep this moment bottled in your brain forever. His sweet, loving eyes. His pretty dimples. His chin’s mole—your favorite mole. Every detail there is about him.

Your pull him closer and slowly go for your aim. Put your lips on the pretty mole like you wanted to since you first saw him tonight. Keeps it there and sense his broke sigh. You sigh back. Your chest pangs. Your throat hurts and it’s not in a good way. Your start to feel your eyes watering and pulls back.

“Baby…” he says softly, looking at you with slightly frowned eyebrows, stroking your hips with his fingers.

You know he wants to say something. Something important. Probably something that you two should’ve said before any other thing that happened tonight. But you don’t want to ruin this moment. Not now. Not ever.

So you just shut him up with your lips. Savor him one last time before everything breaks down. Kiss him as if his taste is the oxygen you need to survive.

And he gives it to you right back. Almost as he’s fearing the same thing too. Almost like he doesn’t want to ever let go.

So you just climb up and position your needy pussy above his dick with his help. Delicately easing him into you, stretching you open deliciously till he’s bottomed you up and you can feel how good it is to wrap yourself around him.

“Shit” you moan, feeling so good after good knows how long. “You fill me up so good.”

You start moving up and down, feeling everything there is to feel, giving yourself up to him.

“Pussy was made for me.” he whispers to your lips. “Just for me.”

He moans when your walls clench around his dick, dripping arousal with his words.

“Fuck.” he husks “That’s it, baby.”

You do it again, now on purpose ‘cause you know it makes him insane. You need him like that.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Jungkook holds you in place and starts bulking his hips up, cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Mmm, too good…” you whimper when he begins a pace that has you seeing stars.

He sighs when he looks at you. His dick is socked with your arousal. Fills you up perfectly, like his body was designed to connect with yours this way. The way it goes in and out drives him mad; but when he looks up at you, closed eyes, full lips trapped between your teeth, hands squeezing those perfect tits. Got him gooshing. Got him head over heals all over again. Got him fucking screwed.

“Fucking perfect.” he moans “Look fucking perfect being dicked down by me”

He feels your walls tighten even more so he slows it down. Wants to make this last more. Wants to make you feel more. That’s not enough, can’t be enough.

So he stops his pumps and holds you down. Just like second nature, your arms wrap around his neck again and you start moving towards him, now rubbing your pussy in sweet movements that he knows will treat your swollen clit well. Knows you love this position, so he helps you out. Spits on one of his fingers and drags it down to your sweet bud. Massages it. Pinches. Makes you whimper, just ‘cause he likes the sound of it.

“Shit, shit, shit, Jungkook!” you say as your hips follow your needs, bulking against his pelvis now. It’s so delicious you think you might go crazy. His dick rubs the perfect spot inside you as your clit gets the perfect friction to set you off.

Jungkook pulls your hair to guarantee his access to your neck, leave tiny love marks all over it. Got you hissing against his shoulder.

“I got you, Bee.” he husks softly.

It’s frightening how fast your climax approaches. You feel the hot waves coming back, building up that frizzing feeling again.

Goosebumps all over your body, you back up to look at him.

You both stare at each other, hips trying to meet the perfect pace now. A sweet pace that has you two building it up together. Feeling together. Giving in together.

His hands are on your ass cheeks, guiding your deep movements, making your cunt take his dick just the way he likes, too. He feels you milking his cock with your walls and his eyelids are tattooed with stars.

“Shit, Bee.” he whimpers “Swear I could die right here and now.”

You giggle and just continue the intense pace. It’s inevitable, to not get emotional. ‘Cause you know you could have this forever. You’ve had everything you could’ve ever wanted. Yet, you let it go.

He opens his eyes again and you’re there. Looking at him with big doe eyes. Loving eyes. Teary eyes. Realizes he loves the shit out of you and cannot think about letting you go again. He will do any fucking thing. Go thru long distance. Take how many flights there is to take. Move to fuckass Australia. Whatever it takes. Just knows you two can’t be separated again.

So he makes love to you. Wants you to remember how it is to be loved. To be loved by him. Tries to show how electrified he feels right now. Needs you to feel the same way.

He guides your hips to continuously make those movements that got him curling his tip toes. One of his hands goes down to you clit again to make it even better for you. Knows it will get you cumming in a heartbeat.

“Ah, fuck!” you moan when he intensifies the rubbing on your harden button. “M’gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby.” he husks teasingly. That’s all he wants right now. You, coming undone because of him. The thought itself makes his own climax approach as well, mixed with you cunt stimulations and the sweet sounds you make: that’s the perfect receipt for —his— disaster.

Your body seems to obey him, as he starts to give in and the electric feeling of the orgasm tingles from you head to toe. “Koo, fuck!” you scream, eyes rolling backwards so hard you don’t think you’ll be able to see anything but starts for days.

Jungkook tries to prolong your feeling as he turns you over. Spits directly on your cunt, fucks you rough thru your climax.

“Koo, it’s too much.” you meow, eyes closed with goosebumps all over your body.

“No baby,” he whispers “Just one more, you can take it.”

So he starts the circled rubbing on your clit again. Grabs your hip firmly in a position that got you curling your tip toes.

“Be a good girl and cum for me again, pretty baby.”

Tears rolling down your cheeks, you feel everything amplified right now. It’s like you’ve been electrocuted all of the sudden. It’s like you need to cum or you will die.

Jungkook feels your dripping walls throbbing around his dick again and increases his pace, getting himself there too. “Fuck, that’s it, Bee.” he moans. Keeps rubbing your clit meanly till he feels his hand muscles hurt. “Gonna cum on this pretty pussy.”

“Koo…” you whisper and he feels your final spasms. Suddenly his dick and his hands are washed with your squirt. You fucking squirted on him. Jesus. He can’t hold himself back anymore.

“Fuck baby, fuck!” he says and increases the pace. The new wave of climax seems to be just what he needed to fuse his own orgasm. Everything that was building up now crumbles down when you spasm from your head to toe, body shaking and pussy as tight as ever, making him spill hot shots of cum all over your walls, filling you up, finally staying where it belongs.

He slows the movements now, pumping his every seed inside of you. Needs every part of him on you. His body, mind and soul are yours.

"So pretty dripping with my cum." he smirks.

You whimper with the nastiness of it all. You love it, and he knows it.

He gives you one last peck and eventually crumbles down next to you. Your heart is in a race, thrumming so hard you think it might break your bones now. You don’t know what to do. What’s next. Where this got you two.

Jungkook’s in no better place. The wave of afterglow is slowly fading and his mind is everywhere. He looks at his bedroom ceiling. Wants to say the right thing. Nothing comes to mind. So he turns sideways. Looks at you. Finds the courage he needs when he sees those pretty eyes.

“Bee.” he whispers. Comes closer to you, like he’s about to tell a secret. Keeps a little distance tho, just enough to look at your eyes. Wants to see your reaction. Wants to see the true feelings in them when he says, “Don’t leave me again.”

Your gasp is audible, eyes two sizes bigger as the tears you’ve been holding back all night now roll down your cheeks.

“Please” he says, voice cracking too as if he’s expecting the worst. Expecting you to make the wrong choice again.

“Jungkook—“ you whisper, trying to find the right words.

“Baby, I’ll do anything.” he nervously says “We can try long distance. I have enough money to travel at least once a month.” he starts babbling out.

“O-or if it’s to hard for us, I’ll try to find a restaurant in Australia. I’ll move out with you.” he says with his chest hurting, seeing you taken aback again. He can’t loose you. “Fuck, I’ll literally drop anything there is for you.”

He closes his eyes now. Turns over again. Doesn’t want to see the rejection in your eyes. Doesn’t want you to see the tears on his. He’s too weak for you. Too weak for his own good.

“But I understand i-if..” his voice trails off in hurt, his throat tightening “I understand if you don’t have feelings for me anymore.”

“Koo…” you softly say, giggling with teary eyes. You climb up on him. He keeps his eyes closed like he’s scared of the world outside his eyelids. “Look at me.”

He slowly does, and the trapped little tears fall over, his perfect nose is pinkish, and you just want to melt away.

“I’m not leaving.” you softly say, wiping out his beautiful cheeks.

“W-what?” he stumbles over his words. He can’t believe he heard you right. That can’t be.

“I’m not leaving. I came this time to stay.”

“Are you fucking with me, Bee?” he abruptly stands up and almost got you falling off the bed. He holds you tight on his lap, tho. “Be serious right now.”

You laugh out loud now. Can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe he wants you after all this time. After everything that’s been thru.

“Jeon Jungkook. I swear on Bam’s life” you say with a bright smile on your face.

“Hey! Don’t swear on Bam’s life!”

Like he was waiting for the perfect time, the puppy shows up by the end of the bed, swiping happily his tail with his big eyes looking at both of you.

“Nobody called you here, man.” Jungkook jokily says. Wants to have his private time with you now, and knows Bam will be all over both of you if he stays. “Go back to your room, big boy.”

The puppy stubbornly stays. Looks at you, like he wants the words to come from you now.

“Go, Bamie. We’ll play with you later.”

And so he does, like that’s all he needed to hear to obey.

“Fucking joke.” Jungkook cuffs “Even the dog is head over hells for you.”

"So..." you say with a stupid grin all over your face you might as well apply for a role as the joker. "You're head over hells for me, hm?"

"So..." he immitates you. Knows it tickles the shit out of you. Bickering with you is his love language, too. "You're not going back to Australia?"

"Uh-hum." you giggle, playing with his dark locks.

"What happened? Kangaroo kicked your head over there?"

"Missed my Koogaroo" you pan right back.

"Oh, shut up." He lets out one laud laugh and turns you over in bed, tickles all over your body until your crying.

You both just stare at each other, big smiles spread out in your faces. Happinees flowing thru and between you. That's it. That's where you belong.

"I really missed this." you say softly.

Jungkook towers over you again. Kisses your lips softly. "Missed," your nose. "You," your forehead. "So much." all of your face.

"I love you, Koo." you say softly, staring at him. Staring at his soul. Hoping he believes you. Believes you never stoped loving him, not now, not ever.

"I love you too, Bee."

AND THAT WAS IT! what do you guys think? I struggled so much on the smut parts wtffff why is it so hard hahaha

I was thinking about doing some drabbles of the story since I loved the couple sm! they're so sweet, right? also thought about developing her friendship with tae, maybe after jk/oc are back together, his reaction and apologies ??? or maybe the background of oc/jk's f2l, the day she left aahhh there's so much i could do!

again, i'm sorry if there are any typos! please leave comments if you like the story, i'll accept requests too <3 promise i'll come back soon

taglist: @kooliv @serendipity713 @5seos @pointofviewyugyeom @glitterybreadtimemachine @olimpiiaa @kooklovee @coffeewkth @valwnn @tae-hibiscus @skzthinker @lazyyhooman @sharkipoonis @kiylasstuff @kissyfacekoo @spicxbnny @cookysstuff

tysm for supporting my ff, i hope you enjoy :) xx

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jk #jk fanfic #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts x reader #bts ff recs #taehyung #v bts #taehyung fanfic #rainy days #rainy days fanfic #jeongguk #bts #bts jungkook #rd2 #jin #bts jin #seokjin

[astraystayyh]

The alternative

Brother's best friend changbin x reader. Fluff and slight angst. (Han is the brother).

Based on my interpretation of The Alternative by Lyn Lapid (if u can, play it after the •••)

You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.

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"Yn?" Changbin’s voice echoes clearly through the phone, and you startle, leaning away to check if you mistakenly dialed the wrong person. But there it is- Han's contact name illuminating your screen, confirming your intended call.

"Changbin? Where is Han?" you ask hesitantly, confused as to why your brother did not pick up his phone.

"He left his phone at home. I wasn't going to answer but I saw five missed calls from you, so I figured something might be wrong. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice softening at the last question.

His concern tugs at your heart, causing you to bite your lower lip forcefully. You've been sitting across from your date for the past two hours, and yet Changbin managed to pay more attention to you in the span of five seconds. 

"I'm okay, don't worry about it," you reassure, trying your best to sound composed.

"Did you need something?"

"I just... I'm on a date right now and I wanted Han to come pick me up. But it's okay."

"Did they do something to you?" he asks, his voice carrying an edge to it that hadn't been present moments ago.

"No!" you quickly reassure. "I just... I don't know, it feels off but it's okay. I'm sorry for bothering you." The practiced apology rolls off your tongue effortlessly, without you having to think about uttering it.

You're accustomed to shrinking yourself, trying your hardest not take up space with your feelings. It has become second nature to you to bury your problems in a dusty box at the back of your mind, as soon as they threaten to affect those around you.

"Where are you?" he asks as you hear shuffling from his end, "I'm coming to pick you up."

"You don't have to," you murmur, regret already welling up inside you. You should've stopped calling your brother when he didn't pick up the first time.

"You are uncomfortable. That's reason enough for me."

You attempt to contradict him, but the words dissolve in your mouth, swallowed back down your throat. There's something about Changbin's unwavering voice that makes you pause. You don't have the strength to contradict him.

"Okay, thank you," you exhale a ragged breath in relief. "I'll text you the address."

You hang up, leaving the bathroom you were hiding in and sitting in front of your date once again. They resume talking, but you tune them out, your thoughts solely revolving around Changbin- the way the planets rotate unwaveringly around the sun. His concern made a pleasing warmth seep through your heart, like a sun ray piercing through clouds after a gloomy day.

You dig your fingers into your palm, desperately trying to banish thoughts of him- just as you’ve been doing for the past few months.

You met Changbin before you knew he was your brother’s best friend. In the campus café, where he almost spilled his drink on you. You thought he was adorable, apologizing profusely to you, a faint pink hue tinting his cheeks. And then he bought you a cookie, three to be exact, because he didn’t know which flavor you’d prefer. A token of his remorse as he explained to you. He was a year older, and you found talking to him as natural as being with yourself.

But for some reason, your brain didn’t register that this was the Changbin your brother told you about. Until you’ve visited Han’s dorm for the first time and there he was, opening the door for you. Changbin was never yours to begin with, a reminder you continually admonish yourself with, but you still felt as if you lost him that day.

You knew it wouldn't be wrong, per se, to date him. But the potential confrontations that would unfold from it made you recoil into your hiding. Loving Changbin holds within it numerous uncertainties, and you cannot venture into the unknown, regardless of how much you yearn for it. For him.

“Yn!” a loud voice startles you, and you snap your head towards the entrance of the restaurant where you find Changbin. He’s clad in grey sweatpants and a snug black t-shirt, standing out like a sore thumb in the high-end restaurant. He didn't take the time to change, you realize, his sole focus on reaching you as quickly as possible.

"We have to go!" he says, as soon as he's in front of your table, and your date glances at you curiously.

"You do?" they ask and you chuckle nervously. "We do?" You didn’t think of an excuse as to why you needed to leave so suddenly, and you hoped Changbin did.

"Yes, come on," he urges, outstretching his hand toward you. "There is an emergency… You know, with Han, very urgent."

"Who's this? And who's Han?" 

"I already told you who Han is," you roll your eyes, grabbing Changbin’s hand and rising from your seat. "Maybe if you stopped talking about yourself for a second then you'd remember."

Changbin places a couple of bills on the table, a polite smile on his face. "For the dinner", he says, before pulling you outside with him.

"What was that?" you chuckle as soon as you're out. Changbin doesn't let go of your hand as you walk to his car, and you can't find it in you to drop it. 

"What?" he giggles, "did you not like my acting skills?"

"Did you have to shout my name from across the restaurant?" you playfully punch his shoulder and he feigns a wince.

"I had to be convincing," he nods solemnly, opening the door for you. His hand rests on the top of the car, ensuring you don't bump your head while getting in.

"Here," Changbin hands you a pair of slippers from the backseat, and you furrow your brows in confusion. "I assumed you'd be wearing heels and your feet are probably tired, so I brought you this," he explains, and you are suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the car that's hiding your crimson blush. 

"So, tell me, what did they do? Do I need to beat them up?" Changbin asks once more and you groan, leaning your head against the car window. 

"They're so... pretentious. The only thing they care about is themselves, their career and their achievements. They even tried to downplay mine so they'd feel better about themselves."

"It's their loss honestly, for wasting a date with someone like you." 

"You're the only one who thinks so," you smile sadly, trailing your fingers across your knee. 

"What do you mean?" he asks, turning his body around to give you his undivided attention. 

"This is my fourth bad date in a row. I think I'm just destined for horrible relationships," you try to joke, but it did weigh heavily on you. Was there something wrong in you that prompted everyone to treat you so lowly?

"You are very smart and witty and interesting. I like talking to you, especially about things you are passionate about. It's their loss for not seeing it. Doesn't mean you are any less incredible," he says, his voice filled with genuine conviction.

A surge of emotion pulses through you, your heart beating wildly in your chest like a bird fluttering its wing to break free from its cage. You've always thought Changbin was all these things as well, but you never knew he held you with the same regard.

"Thank you," you beam at him, "for this and for coming to pick me up."

"Don’t mention it," he responds with a warm smile before sudden mischief dances in his eyes. "You know what? We should go on a date right now."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"A fake date," he clarifies and your heart chips a little more at your foolish hope. "So you'd see how well you deserve to be treated."

"You don't have to do that," you shake your head. 'You shouldn't do that', you wanted to add, 'it’s hard enough to forget about you'.

"I want to," he insists, his assurance evident in his smile. He leans in, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt, bringing his face mere inches from yours. His cologne envelops you, trapping you in a web carefully woven by him. It was unfair- for him to smell this nice and not be yours.

"You look pretty," he compliments, his penetrating gaze locked with yours as the seatbelt finally clicks into place.

"Is this how you start all your dates," you chuckle, in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

"No, I'm just saying the truth," he replies simply, starting the car and resting his hand on the back of your headrest.

"So, what are you craving?" he asks, and you sigh in defeat.

"Can we have fried chicken?" 

"Of course, we can," he replies with a smile, shifting the car into reverse and leaving the parking lot.

•••••••••••

You hoped your time with Changbin would be horrible, you wished you’d feel bored or uncomfortable, just so it’d cement the idea that he wasn’t the one for you. But unsurprisingly, you had an amazing time. Your stomach ached from laughing so hard throughout the night, and there was a new found lightness in your steps as you walked around a picturesque garden.

You knew that you will revisit this night countless times, that you’d sift through every detail- every time your eyes met and every time you made him smile. That it’d keep you warm on cold nights when you’re all alone.

"Here," Changbin says, handing you a plucked rose. "You deserve a bouquet but I didn’t plan on this, I’m sorry," he smiles sheepishly and you giggle, taking it out of his hands.

"Thank you," you grin happily, before taking a step forward toward him. There, you tuck the rose behind his ear, smoothing down his hair in the process.

"I’m blushing, aren’t I?" he chuckles, bringing a hand to his flushed cheeks and you gleefully nod.

"You’re matching the rose," you point out and he shrugs happily. "Pink is my color."

You admired how Changbin didn’t shy away from his emotions, embracing them without reservation. It made you feel secure, in the sense where you’d never have to second guess his words and their truthfulness.

Changbin takes out his phone to play a soft melody, before putting it in his back pocket.

"Let's dance."

"Changbin..." you trail off. It feels bittersweet to get a taste of what you could have, of what you two could be. He'll move on, surely, going on real dates while you'd still be stuck on the way he makes you feel.

"It's part of the date package, come on." 

You sigh, before grabbing his hand in yours. They fit so naturally together, and you think you can easily commit the sensation to memory- the coldness of his palm and the callouses on his finger pads. With a few more holds, you're certain you could recognize his touch among a thousand others.

Changbin raises your free hand and places it on his shoulder, before holding your waist gently, swaying you from left to right.

Being with him felt like pressing on a blueish bruise, a pleasurable pain you would willingly endure to have him by your side. You're already in his arms, you told yourself. Maybe you should tune out the thoughts in your head berating you, and finally follow what your heart wants.

You suck in a deep breath, before tentatively leaning your head on his chest. He immediately brings his hand to your hair, smoothing it down gently. His chest is broad, serving as a shield for the delicate emotions flowing within him. Because Changbin is gentle with everything he does and everyone he meets. And you'd settle for this, for being his fake date if it meant experiencing his gentleness for the rest of your life.

"Can I tell you something?" you say after a while.

"Sure."

"I think this is the nicest date I've ever been on. I wish all of them were like this."

"They could be if you want to."

"What do you mean?"

"I've always liked you, yn. From the moment I’ve met you,” he confesses easily, and his words feel like the hands of an expert violinist, tugging at your vulnerable heartstrings.

He likes you, you aren't alone in this feeling, and for a second, raw happiness courses through you at this thought. But it's fleeting, like the sugar rush you'd get when you eat too much sweets. And so it naturally wears off, as the consequences of his words dawn on you.

"Changbin, we shouldn't," you shake your head vehemently and he frowns. "Why?"

"Because you're my brother's best friend." The excuse streams from your mouth instantly.

"But I'm still Changbin. Your Changbin if you'll have me," he adds softly.

"Han will find it weird, and if we don't work out then your friendship with him will become strained and-"

"Why are you thinking about everyone but yourself?" He interrupts. "Don’t you want this?" 

A few silent beats pass by, and Changbin doesn't stop swaying you around, his gentle place lulling your heart to calmness, clearing the foggy thoughts in your mind.

"I do," you finally admit, and a smile lightens up his face instantly. It's so bright that it makes you second-guess the words you're about to say. "But I don't want to risk our friendship too." 

"Love is a risk, I understand, I agree. But what's the alternative, yn? if it's not having you at all then I'd risk it," he drops your waist, his hands cradling your face tenderly. "You are worth the risk to me." 

You’ve stopped dancing, the music long forgotten by you. "You really think so?"

"I know so." 

"What if we things don't workout?"

"What if they do, hm? we can never really know until we try. And i want to try with you. Please, give us a chance?" he smiles at you, his vulnerability on full display. He's offering you his heart on a silver platter, not caring if you'll safely guard it or pierce it through, as long as it's yours.

You gaze into his warm brown eyes, before glancing at his tousled hair and the rose tucked behind his ear. And your fear doesn't matter anymore, not in the face of the man in front of you.

"You have amazing convincing skills. Have you ever considered being a diplomat?" you tease and his eyes widen slightly. "Is this a yes? are you saying yes?"

"I am," you giggle, an uncontrollable smile drawn on your lips. "And... I've always liked you too. I think Han might've suspected it because whenever I brought you up, he glared at me," you confess with a laugh, as Changbin presses a soft kiss on your wrist. Right where your pulse is. Beating wildly for him. 

"He’ll have to deal with it. Now tell me, is tomorrow at 6 pm good for you?"

"What for?" you giggle, as he waltzes you around once more, a cheeky smile adorning his face.

"Our first real date, of course.”

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