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satorkiees · 3 months

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✮⋆ TWILIGHT ZONE : satoru gojo ✮ ⋆ ˚｡

ˋ⁀➷ in which you get a note pertaining your death sent to you by none other than satoru gojo. chaos ensues.

cw: 2.8k words, strangers to (eventual) lovers

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Death was on your doorstep. Literally.

In your hands, a creased brown envelope clung to an equally tattered piece of paper which had embarked on a journey to land outside of your door. The message was clear. Ominous, even. Written with a fading black ballpoint pen that seemed to have exhausted its ink by the end of its extreme warning.

“BY THE EIGHTH OF FEBRUARY. YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DO NOT HEED MY WARNING. IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT YOU EITHER A) FIND A NEW JOB OR B) LEAVE THE COUNTRY. PLEASE CONTACT THIS NUMBER ASAP - 0XX XXX XXXX”

Surveying your surroundings for any prying eyes, you found no one but a cold draft of air tumbling by you. With a sigh, you retrieved your worn out phone from your pocket and dialled the number. What could possibly go wrong?

RING.

“Hello?” you said hesitantly.

“Heyyyy.” A voice, far too chirpy for the gravity of the situation, rang out from your phone. “I’m glad you called, Y/N. I’m Satoru Gojo and I’ll be your makeshift bodyguard for the next 2 weeks.” He paused whilst words failed you. ”Well, I guess I’ll see you soon!”

Over the past couple of days, you had learnt a lot about Satoru Gojo but perhaps the strangest of all was his nonchalance.

An hour or two after your call, your doorbell rang. Standing before you was a man, about six feet tall, with an allure that masked the ominous message (you assumed) he sent. His boyish smile and circular black sunglasses (despite it being the dead of winter) contradicted the gravity of the situation perfectly matched the aura of the voice you heard. He appeared slightly older than you, maybe eighteen or nineteen, as a youthful aura exuded off of him.

“Can I come in?”

Silently, you allowed him in. Satoru took a few glances around your cramped apartment, his mouth opening as if to mention it but deciding to keep it shut.

“So, could you please explain to me what’s going on?” You asked, anxiety laced in your voice.

Seating himself on your worn couch, he began to unravel the unsettling truth. “A curse is after you, like big-time. If they can successfully remove your soul from your body, it’ll be game over for both you, me and the sorcerer world!” He sighed dramatically, motioning a ‘kaboom’ effect with his hands for added effect. Frankly, eighty percent of his mysterious revelation had not quite registered and you weren’t sure it ever would.

Swiftly, the night began to fall as darkness crept into your apartment. Stumbling over some old book piles, you switched on your lamp allowing a warm yellow light to fill the room. Turning your back to Gojo, you lit up another two candles allowing a lavender scent to creep into your senses. Despite its supposed calming properties, the lavender scent only confused you even more wearing your patience thinner. You blew out the candle light.

Despite your silence, Gojo persisted. “Not that I couldn’t handle it - the curses, I mean - but it’d make it significantly harder if you were dead so we’ve got to work together, alright? Alright!” He concluded, clapping his hands with an unbridled sense of finality. Gojo carried himself in a way that made what he said seem somewhat normal, as if his laid back shoulders and casual slouch into your second hand couch was enough to convince you that curses, or monsters even, existed in the first place.

Twitching, your eyes and head began to hurt; the overload of information from this somewhat cute guy made you feel like you were in some sort of absurdist dream. Laughter began to erupt out of you. Satoru’s face twitched in confusion as he furrowed his eyebrows. Sighing, you began trying to find the right words to say.

“Get out.” was what you landed on. Finally, mustering up the courage to face him.

“What?” His chirpy tone had dwindled and instead, was replaced with full panic. His eyes widened. ”Didn’t you read the letter or hear anything I just said?” Exasperation evident within his tone as he got off the couch and approached you.

“Satoru, look.” You did your best to meet his eyes but eventually turned towards the door. “I can’t help you. Even if I could and if what you’re saying is real then what am I supposed to do against some soul-snatching curse?”

As if on cue, your lamplight dimmed even more, leaving a low light to fill the room. Fiddling with the papers at your door, which were compiled of all your uni-work and and your part time internship responsibilities, all seemingly useless when your life was doomed to end in a couple of days. A sense of dread washed over you, your headache worsened. Gojo approached you like you were some sort of timid animal about to flee at any moment. His playful aura dissipated leaving a much more serious, grounding one. Pursing your lips together, you stopped fiddling with your work and met his eyes properly for the first time.

Satoru Gojo stood before you, someone who was essentially a stranger but looked at you with such a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t help but believe what he was saying was true. The way the lowlight framed his face and made his features glow with such an intensity was something you couldn’t ignore.

“You don’t have to do anything, honest. Leave it to me. I just need you to accept my help, that’s it.” He said with his hands on his heart. Turning around to face him once more, his blue eyes that contained a particular sense of wonder, locked with yours silently pleading.

Looking away, you opened your door. “Please. Go.”

As he left, he looked at you once more, disappointment etched into every crevice on his face.

The lack of his presence left you with an uneasy feeling of dread. Strangely, he had convinced you he was telling the truth even if he was a little unconventional with his methods of persuasion. Though you wanted to believe what he was saying wasn’t true, as you mindlessly went through your night routine, a constant thought plagued your mind.

Is this it?

Waking up to the frigid stillness of your winter room, you shivered. A draft of wind swept through, tempting you to linger in the warmth of your bed. Reluctantly, you switched on your lamp, allowing light to seep into your room disbanding the darkness entrenched in the crevices of your room. Suddenly, memories of the past 24 hours flooded back into your brain as you did your best to trudge through your extensive morning routine. Doing it as you normally would - brushing your teeth, showering, getting dressed, doing a mandatory morning clean of your apartment. However, during that last step, you found something that solidified the surreal events of the previous night.

In a state of delusion, you had hoped that everything had been an elaborate dream, one that had simply been a byproduct of your numerous stress-inducing responsibilities. But you were sorely mistaken. Satoru Gojo’s glasses laid there on your couch, snugly wedged in where he was seated last night, evident from the deflated dent in your couch. Gently, you picked them up, surveying the accessory. They were in relatively good condition, seemingly worn a lot due to the slight oxidation around the frames; the lenses without a prescription either as you held them closer to your eyes. Because of your background, you weren’t too versed in designer brands, however seeing a ‘Cartier’ logo etched into the sides of these glasses was enough to send a second set of shivers down your spine. While you hadn’t formulated many theories surrounding Gojo’s mysterious persona, involvement with the mafia was one of your top three contenders, and these glasses (without any sort of case or protection) had bumped that theory up to number one.

Despite the fatigue creeping into your body, you decided to attend your classes with Gojo’s glasses tucked into the safety of your backpack’s front pocket. Even if the impending doom of your life ending loomed around a month away, doesn’t mean your classes (and internship) weren’t still there waiting for you.

As usual, your professors droned on endlessly. prompting you to wonder why you chose this course in the first place. Swiftly, you packed your things to leave, but as you made your exit, you saw something. Fleeting, a shadow outside the glass of your school’s hallway caught your eye, accompanied by a draft of wind that tried to shuffle past you. Blinking, you tried to discern if anything was there only to be met with a headache that intensified with each attempt. Clutching your backpack close, you ignored the discomfort. Making it towards your study room - a safe haven - for you to be able to catch up with the work you’d missed.

Upon entering, a familiar white haired man slouched over the desk, seemingly lost in the most peaceful of slumbers. Before you could say anything, he sprang to life, stretching with exaggerated movements and delivered with a comically large yawn. Unsure of what to do, you waited for him to speak.

“Hey.” He said with an annoying sense of normalcy, a playful aura radiating from his face, now adorned with a new pair of Cartier glasses. He peered up at you, prompting your response.

“Are you, like the mafia or something?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at him. “Because that would explain why you’re here now.”

He chuckled, his laughter surprisingly pleasant. Though, it was unsurprising that someone like him was also blessed with a nice laugh too. You scoff. “What’s so funny about that?” you retorted, growing annoyed at his mirth whilst your life (supposedly) hung in the balance.

“Nothing,” he calmed down, wiping an imaginary tear away. You rolled your eyes as he quietened down a bit, positioning his glasses through his hair so he could look at you clearly. Your face began to grow hot with his eyes staring right at you. He continues. “Just my friend Shoko, has this running bit about me being a mafia boss. You remind me of her a bit.” Silently, you prayed for anyone who could tolerate someone as erratic as Gojo.

“I’m not part of the mafia, however curses and all of that jazz are the real deal and I do really need your help.” Satoru said with the same fervent sincerity as the night before. You looked away, unpacking your bag with the contents of this term’s work cluttering the table. A variety of thoughts ran through your head. Convinced that this mysterious man had been telling the truth, you felt another chilling sensation, unsure if it stemmed from the monsters he spoke of or the stress of your impending demise.

Quietly, you retrieved Gojo’s glasses from your front pocket and slid them across to him. “You should really put these in a case or something.” His raised eyebrow met with your growing anxiety. The prospect of leaving everything behind to deal with something new was albeit - terrifying, but if you did nothing, you wouldn’t be able to feel anything at all.

“But, won’t we-”

Not a second later, the wall caved in. Debris and smoke filling the room, rapidly. Gojo grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the now-destroyed room, leaving all your assignments crushed underneath the weight of falling concrete. A single glance back revealed other students fleeing the scene. With screams echoing down the hall, a familiar draft of wind swirled down the corridor after you.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” you yelled, your legs burning as you were being dragged at an (inhumanely) high speed. Gojo doing his best to manoeuvre his way through the bustling students, who were bewildered at your rapid pace.

“They’re here.” Out of breath, all retorts had escaped your mind, fight or flight in full swing. With every corridor you left behind, a new chorus of cries echo in your wake. “I could sense him--the curse–but I couldn’t see him. He’s good!" He rattled on but you were certain it was mostly for himself. Exhilaration clearly pulsing through his veins whilst anxiety was beginning to freeze yours.

“WHAT?” Nothing made sense. It felt insane, as if this was the dreaded sequel of your absurdist nightmare.

“THE WIND.” He shouted in reply as if that answered anything. A new set of screams followed as you tumbled down the stairs. He continued. “STOP ASKING SO MANY QUESTIONS AND ACCEPT MY HELP.”

“WELL, I WAS ABOUT TO BEFORE WE ALMOST DIED!”

“REALLY?” For the first time in a while, he took a good look at you, a smile evident on his face even despite death feeling very near to the both of you. An ultimately foolish decision, as Satoru almost ran straight into a wall.

“LOOK WHERE YOU’RE GOING, SATORU.” You called out, doing your utmost to keep up with him.

“YES, MAAM!” He turned around, turning up the speed with a newfound sense of motivation. If you stopped running for just a moment, you were sure your legs would fall off.

Nearing a corner, something materialised in front of you. Gojo looked at the mist forming then looked you dead in the eyes. “Accept my help. Please.”

“Okay, alright! I need your help.”

Everything went black.

Time stood still for what seemed like an eternity. Nothing could be seen but you were feeling everything, everywhere, all at once. Death was your first thought but with Gojo holding onto you, you knew you were still alive.

Then, onslaughts of colour flooded back into your vision. A different form of headache made you feel like you were about to puke out the whole galaxy. However, Gojo did. Even God couldn’t make puking seem graceful. There was enough anxiety to fill up every cell in your body and realising, you were both back in your apartment, you began to panic even more. Deciding to focus on one thing at a time, you stumbled over towards the kitchen and got a glass of water for the both of you. Placing his down, you sat next to him.

Eagerly, you waited for him to say anything, anything at all to make sense of the past 15 minutes. He looked pale, sickly; whatever he had just done had evidently taken a lot more out of him than he’d expected.

Gojo began to monologue, slowly, about his findings and how he got to you in the first place.

a/n - dun dun dunnnn. i'm not sure why i was so nervous to post this but i had a ton of fun writing this. please reblog/like if you enjoyed it. part 2 will be out soon :)

#satorkiees #gojo satoru #gojo saturo x reader #gojo saturo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojō x reader #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu gojo

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frost-felon · 4 months

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@ my anonymous asker: Your initial ask got eaten by Tumblr, so I'll be posting this as a separate post. You had two asks, so I'll address them both here, which works well, as I started ranting about the femme rep, lmao.

absolutely, like, 100% agree with you on everything you've said about the horrific lack of development with the interpersonal relationships between all the characters in jjk. the unexplained timeskip before the gojo vs sukuna fight made me SO MAD !!!!!!!! seeing it mentioned offhandedly. did such a massive disservice to gojo's character having his reactions to multiple deaths simply written out and missed so many opportunities for a more fulfilling narrative.

in general i feel that the relationships between characters in jjk are so... flimsily written. i have whole essays about how completely unexplored yuji and kenjaku are and how all the characters post-culling-game have suffered in favor of dishing out cool fights with fake-feeling emotional stakes. gege please start writing fights in a meaningful way... more than that please explore character dynamics outside of a purely tactical/background info way... is this the same man who wrote hidden inventory

Second ask:

my god don't even get me started on yorozu. atp the 'gege hates women' jokes can't even be dismissed that lightly I saw tsumiki's reawakening in the last jjk episode and literally said out loud don't piss me off again

Ah, thank you. I've been a bit worried about the in-universe time in JJK. If I'm not mistaken, the story starts at some point in June, and for the Juvenile Detention Center Arc/Super Happy Fun Killing Yuji Time, some point in July. Of course, Shibuya happens on the day/night of October 31st, and likely the wee hours of November 1st. The entirety of the Culling Games Arc takes place in about two weeks of November, as I recall; actually, maybe less, since the very start indicates that Yuji was on the run for a week. So many short timeskips happened early on, and had negative effects on developing characterization and worldbuilding, both of which I've thought were weak since the beginning. Worldbuilding moreso, but characterization issues were especially apparent with the second-years of Tokyo JJH and all of the Kyoto cast. This caused quite a crunch on Culling Games, since so much needed to happen over a short period of time, leading to a jumbled, molasses pace.

It's actually really interesting to me that Sukuna would agree to postpone the fight to nearly the end of December, and this would have given us more time to explore the newer characters and solidify the older ones; we really needed more interactions between Yuji and others that weren't full of misery. Or seeing Gojo adapting to life back outside the Prison Realm, especially given that so much has changed; for a character that values reforming society and raising a self-assured, powerful new generation, losing that society should lead to a re-evaluation of his priorities. Or like...develop Ieri! Hana! Miwa! And kill off Mei Mei or actually address her position within the cast.

Yeah, one of my biggest problems from the get-go was feeling that Megumi & Nobara was a dynamic that had been left to the wayside, even during early Kyoto Goodwill Arc. And those had been characters that were meant to interact regularly...literally what attachment did Higuruma have to anyone that wasn't Yuji?¹ I adore Yuji's relationships, but he's barely been allowed to have any after Shibuya. How is Choso doing, now that the only people (Yuki & Tengen) not related to him are dead or robbed of agency?

Speaking of...hoo boy, Tengen is a hell of a topic to untangle. And most femme characters really don't get to do anything. Nobara is fun, but suffered since day one with a lack of plot presence, and literally being removed from battlefields/character conflicts, lmao. Ieri straight-up doesn't matter, especially as the manga goes on--but even in Hidden Inventory, which I do think is likely the peak of JJK, she has no real impact. You could basically replace her with a medpack, and little would change. Mai gets a very good conflict with Maki, but just about nothing between then and her death. Maki has given up her niche and much of what made her engaging to become...a serial killer on the good side, suspiciously Toji-shaped. I really didn't like Perfect Preparation, and I dread re-reading it.

But "Gege hates women" was less of a joke to me, and more a hyperbolic version of a statement that I do believe in: "Gege shows a clear apathy and disregard for his femme characters." I noticed very early on in my initial read-through (to the end of 145) that many of the femme characters were simply treated differently than much of the male cast, and often given less to do. One time that I was truly disgusted, though, was how Remi (the lady with hair like a scorpion's tail, and a dependent personality) was handled, even before her ultimate fate in Culling Games. So much of that simply rubbed me the wrong way, and felt genuinely offensive, both in regards to women and to dependent personality-type individuals. And what happened to her later...man, those panels gross me the fuck out with how much they sexualize a woman who's about to get trafficked. I definitely have a lot to say on that, but I want to make sure I can actually post this before Tumblr fucks me over again.

As a note, I don't use materials outside of the story to gauge the effectiveness of the writing (and it's also because I'm a Naruto fan, so I know the Hell of databooks, nevermind some of the other art I enjoy), but I may be missing some things. Feel free to continue to make asks or to reach out to me via DMs. I do enjoy discussing JJK, whether it be for things it does well, things it does poorly, or for other reasons.

¹We did get some Higuruma & Kusakabe, but this came in late, and then Higuruma died, lmao.

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rancidpancakebatter · 2 years

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Grip Tape-Chapter 3 [P.P.]

Pairings: Peter Parker x AFAB Reader

Summary: Peter offers to teach you how to skateboard and who are you to say no? This is a pre-bite fic so we get to enjoy Peter Parker in his full Dorky Display.

Word Count: 2.6k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Marijana Use, Underage Drinking, Bullying

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Chapter Summary: It's Friday!!! You have lunch with Peter again, no big deal

A/N: I tried my best to make the reader gender-neutral but I leaned more toward my style, and I dress more feminine.

Also, I have autism so sensory is a big part of my life. What I wrote makes sense to me but maybe not everyone so I just hope that this very self-indulgent fic is relatable.

Next chapter it gets a lot more fluffy I promise

You woke up two hours early on Friday. You didn’t mean to but you had a dream that woke you up. Even now the details were blurry but Peter was in it, you were maybe holding hands, also possibly flying? But what you did know was your heart was racing and you were thinking about him. You couldn’t go back to sleep so you decided to get a jump on your day.

You went downstairs and made breakfast and decided to make lunch for two. You started making sandwiches when you suddenly realized you didn’t know what Peter liked. Did he have any allergies? You cut the bread into stars and hearts and then cut up the toppings, putting them all into their own Tupperware. You got some mayo, ketchup, and mustard and put them into little ziplock baggies. It only took you ten minutes and by then your omelette was done. You ate in comfortable silence humming to yourself.

After breakfast, you went to the garage to get a basket and loaded it up with the DIY sandwich station and some chips. It occurred to you that this could seem a little date-y but you had just gone through all that trouble of making it. You were too attached to the work to throw it out. You left it on the counter before you went upstairs to take a shower. You had taken one last night to get the smell of butter off of you, so you opted for a light rinse, not wanting to deal with your hair. As you stepped out you did your normal grooming routine, brushing your teeth extra hard, and putting on a bit more makeup than you usually did.

Getting dressed was going to be the hardest part. You wanted to look cute and show off some of your assets but it was cold outside. You were also incredibly anxious about today so you wanted to be comfy. After trying on almost everything you had you settled on something that toed the line between revealing and laid back.

You picked out a baggy button-up about 3 sizes too big, green with blue stripes. It was your dad’s but he hadn’t noticed it had gone missing yet. You wore some straight-legged, black, high-waisted Levi's you had thrifted last week. Then for the controversy, you wore a black ribbed crop top, with buttons in the middle to show off some of your chest. Then you threw on a forest green bomber jacket, tucking the excess button-up into your pants so it wasn’t poking out. (Or you picked literally anything else it’s your imagination homie)

You felt pretty good about yourself, twirling about in the mirror. As you turned you caught a glimpse of your alarm clock and realized you had ten minutes to get to the bus stop before Sally left your ass. You threw on some sneakers and grabbed your backpack before rushing downstairs, snatching your picnic basket and running out the door.

Sally was a nice woman and a wonderful driver, but she was never on time. She was either 10-20 minutes early or 10-20 minutes late. Luckily, she stopped at the street corner and you could see her pull up from your porch. As you stepped outside you didn’t quite see her but you heard the hissing of the breaks. She was just around the corner. You took a deep breath, centring yourself before making your way to the stop sign. There were two other kids there too, they paid you no mind as their headphones were in. You fished yours out of your backpack.

When you arrived at the school you did the same thing as last time. You hoped today Peter might stop by your locker this morning. As you reached the doors you got off your board, glancing down to catch it. As you brought your head back up to grab the handle another beat you to it. Following the green cotton sleeve up you saw a red-faced Peter Parker, “Hey”. He gave you a tight-lipped smile, but it was wide all the same.

You tucked some hair behind your ear and returned the smile, “Thank you.” You continued through the doorway and he quickly followed. As you made your way down the hallway Peter noticed the basket in your other hand,

“What’s that?” You followed his eyes to your left hand and swiped it behind your back with a playful smile.

“What’s what?” He moved his head to follow the movement, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, you’re not gonna tell me?” You tried your best to suppress a smirk. You failed miserably.

“Peter, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You had reached your locker and turned to put your skateboard away.

Peter took this as an opportunity to swipe the basket from you. It was quick but the human nervous system is truly amazing. In the 0.24 seconds that his pointer and middle fingers took to brush against your knuckles, you feel two things.

One, his fingers. They’re soft but slightly callused, the pads of his fingers catching slightly on your autumn-dried hands. It makes sense when you consider how long he’s been riding a skateboard, he’s bound to have fallen before. Hell, you had only been riding for two weeks and you’ve fallen plenty of times. Two, you would give anything for him to do it again.

You whipped around, “Peter!” but he was already dangling the basket high above your head. You wanted to be mad, you really did, but how could you. His eyes were actually sparkling, and that lopsided grin had you feeling faint. You extended your arm up in a useless attempt to get it back, he just stretched it higher.

“Oh, so now you know what I’m talking about?” You reached again, this time, hopping a little.

“Peter, come on.” You pleaded.

“Because a few seconds ago you had no earthly clue as to what I was talking about.” He is delighting in your distress and feeble attempts to get back your prize.

“It’s a surprise, give it back!” At that, his eyes lit up more and his eyebrows shot up.

“A surprise? For who?” You tried grabbing his forearm and bringing it down so you could reach it with your other hand but it was no use, he just switched arms. Peter tried not to let it show but he was nervous. He hoped it was for him, more so he just hoped it wasn’t for some other guy.

You needed leverage to jump higher, something to launch off of. You put your hand on the locker and tried to use it to push yourself up higher to no avail. He began waving the basket back and forth, “Come on (Y/n) whose it for?”

You kept jumping and jumping but your legs were getting tired. You landed on your foot wrong and fell forward into Peter. Your outstretched arm met his shoulder, wrapping around and reaching his back, like an awkward hug. The other saved your face from completely colliding with his chest, you grabbed his shirt to stop yourself from falling. You didn’t fully process it and neither did Peter, his arm staying in the air as his other wrapped around your waist, unintentionally pulling you closer.

You got back on your footing but didn’t pull away just yet. You were trying to calculate how long you could stay there without alarming him. You gripped his shirt tighter as if you were trying to memorise the feel of each cotton-polyester thread. The smell of Peter once again filled your senses: speed stick, mint, oranges, and…something else. You lifted your head and started to pull back, he was still holding your waist so you didn’t go far, and brought the hand on his back to his shoulder.

You couldn’t read Peter’s face, he seemed shocked but you couldn’t tell if he was upset or not. You hoped he wasn’t as it was an accident, however you did minorly take advantage of the situation, so it wouldn’t be completely unwarranted. You both stood there frozen for what seemed years, that is until Mr Wattford walked by, “No PDA in the halls please.” It seemed that jump-started both of your brains. Peter jumped away with his hands in the air, you were almost knocked back by the sheer force. You both started stuttering out excuses,

“No, we weren’t-”

“Oh, I just-”

“I mean we’re not even-”

“I tripped and-”

Neither of you were particularly well-spoken so it didn’t sound very convincing. Wattford continued walking off but made sure to point his fingers at his eyes then directing them to the both of you, so you knew he was “watching you.” You immediately ducked your head, embarrassed, turning back to your locker to grab your books. You used the time to compose yourself before turning around again.

Peter was processing all that had just happened. He had really liked when you were pressed against him like that, you were holding him, and vice versa. You didn’t seem to run from him either, maybe he wasn’t crazy to think there was a chance!

No, no, no, Peter, slow down. He looks down hoping you won’t see him blushing. She tripped, it was nothing. Don’t make it weird.

You were reaching in your locker, collecting your Sociology textbook but you could still feel the fabric of his cotton tee, it seemed now that every other texture was wrong. The familiar vinyl coating of your textbooks felt foreign despite their almost daily use.

You turned back, surprised Peter was still there and hadn’t run for the hills. Peter’s head was low, scratching the back of his head with one hand and the other still gripping the wicker handle.

You reached for it, grazing his hand again, “It’s our lunch.”

Peter shot his head back up. You gave him a small smile as you turned to put it in your locker along with your board. He released a puff of air that morphed into a soft laugh at the last four measures.

When you looked at him again he had a small smile on his face, “Sorry,” He said, “I didn’t mean to ruin the surprise.”

You went on your separate ways to class, like you did every morning this week. It’s embarrassing to say that you already missed his presence. You tried to focus on class but your senses were shot. It’s like all of your body was searching for the comfort of Peter and you couldn’t find it. You were getting a headache. Everything you touched felt too rough or slimy, everything you smelled was too sweet or too strong.

Chemistry came around and Mr Crawford droned on and on about lab results. At the end of the week, he likes to go over what you were supposed to do and what results you should have gotten and how to record them. It was pretty nice honestly because as long as you had your lab done from before you could finish most of the second half of the lab report in class. Meaning you would have more time after school to hang out with Peter, but you were trying not to think about it so you could pay attention and not miss anything. That was very hard though when you noticed Peter stealing glances at you from your peripheral. You knew that this was a new thing because you would have noticed before, it’s embarrassing how many times you’ve zoned out staring at the back of his head.

Mr Crawford finished with a few minutes left to spare, the room was filled with the sounds of paper and zippers. You were pretty satisfied with your notes and figured you could finish your conclusion in 10 minutes. You hadn’t received a lot of other homework. You still had to study for your sociology exam next week, but you felt pretty confident in the content. You were a little ahead on the reading for English, it helped that you liked Dracula. You just needed to start thinking about what you would bring up in Socratic next week. You figure discussing Lucy Westenra’s obvious symbolism will get you a few points, especially if you bring it up first. You never have Spanish homework and you won’t get any in yearbook either, which just leaves calculus. You hope Miss Peters was feeling gracious.

You were so wrapped up in thought you didn’t notice Peter approach you. “Whatcha thinking about?”

You jumped, slightly startled. Your head was resting on your hand, a finger lightly tapping your cheek. Peter thought you looked awful cute and was saddened to see he had disrupted whatever train of thought caused such an adorable countenance.

“Huh? Oh!” You looked up to see he was smiling at you, you grabbed your bag from the floor and began packing. “I was just thinking of how much homework I’ll have tonight.”

He hummed in acknowledgement but didn’t add anything. You awkwardly continued, “Well, rather, how much I won’t have. Other than calculus…maybe...I don’t know yet.”

The bell rang before you could embarrass yourself more. You walked silently to your locker and grabbed what you needed for lunch. It wasn’t very awkward but you found yourself trying to read his mind. If I were Peter what would I be thinking? Would I think this is nice or comforting? Does he think it’s weird I made us lunch? Does he think I talk too much? Maybe not enough? Peter was having similar concerns but neither of you vocalised them to the other.

As you reached the courtyard doors Peter opened them for you. You let out a small “thank you” and continued over the bench you guys had declared as your spot.

“So,” Peter breaks the silence, “What did you bring?” He’s wearing a big smile, dramatically licking his lips, and rubbing his hands together. You can’t help but laugh thinking he looks like a Scooby-Doo extra. Like Shaggy’s cousin in a holiday episode.

You peel back the lid with a flourish and announce, “Sandwiches!” before continuing to ramble, “only, I didn’t know what you like so I brought a kinda, DIY, build it yourself, sandwich shop, if you will.” You began pulling out all the ingredients you brought, naming them as you went. Peter was in awe.

One, who didn’t love sandwiches? What’s not to love? Two, You brought so many options to try and ensure he had something he wanted, instead of guessing. He knows that he's a human garbage disposal and will eat literally anything, but you don’t and that’s so sweet. Three, You cut the bread into shapes, eliminating that awkward moment of peeling off the crust and hoping whoever you're with won’t pick fun at you. Again, Peter eats the crust but you didn’t know that and that’s so sweet. You even found a way to bring condiments and toppings.

You were still rambling on trying to fill the silence as he just gazed at everything you had spread out, “I didn’t know if you had any allergies or anything and I would have felt really bad if I had killed you. Also Sorry about the bread, that’s kinda weird, I guess. It’s better when you make the sandwich and then cut it but I really liked the shapes. That’s kinda silly I guess. I don’t know why-”

He cut you off with a laugh, a very genuine, crinkled-eyed laugh. “(Y/n), it’s perfect.” You released a breath you weren’t aware you had trapped in your lungs.

“Really, this is so nice, thank you.” Your cheeks warmed at the compliment.

“Well, dig in.” You each had one star and one heart sandwich. You giggled as you made them, laughing about anything and everything. That squirrel in the tree. A random shout you heard from inside the cafeteria. A leaf dancing in the wind. At one point Peter had mayonnaise on his nose and you doubled over laughing.

“What? What?” He asked, smiling at you. You had to catch your breath before you wiped it off.

As you finished your sandwiches the conversation lulled back into comfortable silence, that was until Peter broke it again. “I can help…with your homework…if you want.”

You looked at him confusedly and he took it as offence. He began to backpedal, “Not that I don’t think you’re smart enough to do your own homework, but like, I’ll be over anyway so I figured we could both do our homework, or whatever.”

Peter wanted to help you with your homework. Peter wanted to hang out outside of skateboarding and lunch. Homework could be long and not fun. Peter was willing to do not fun things with you. He had offered to. You smiled as you thought about it, “Yeah, sure, I would appreciate it.”

#rancid writes #tasm!spiderman x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman x reader #andrew garfield spiderman x reader #andrew peter parker #the amazing spider man #peter parker skate king #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #pre bite peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm

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percervall · 1 year

Text

what if I love you?

Player: Jordan henderson Words: 870 Warnings: Fluff Request: Receiving flowers - Maybe one where the Reader is a younger physio who doesn't think he notices her until he sends her flowers on Valentine's day? A/N: Asndsd i love this idea so much??? hope I did it justice!

title from Gatlin's What If I Love You?

---

Seeing the vase on top of her desk made her stop in her tracks. She quickly looked around to see if the person who left them was still around, but the corridor leading to her office was empty. Dropping her keys and tablet onto her desk, she took in the bouquet. The majority of the flowers were in similar shades of pink, very close to her favourite hue, mixed with a few white and cream ones. She ran a finger over the petals of one of the peonies and felt her lips tug up in a smile. Turning the vase around she looked for a card, finding it tucked away between two roses.

“Someone’s got a secret admirer,” a voice came from the open door. She felt her cheeks heat up as her best friend and colleague Jess stood in the doorway.

“I’m sure it’s just someone being nice, I did just get my Masters in Sports Medicine,” she replied, not fully believing her own explanation. Jess hummed in a way as if to say yeah, sure. Even though they’d only been working together for six months, she and Jess had hit it off from the moment she became part of the medical staff at Liverpool.

“I doubt Klopp would send you pink flowers to congratulate you, babe. What does the card say?” She had to admit Jess had a point there. Although the Liverpool manager sometimes acted like a dad for everyone he employed, she too doubted he’d send her this type of bouquet. She slid the envelope open and pulled out the thick cardstock.

Happy Valentine’s Day! I didn’t know how to tell you in person without losing my nerve, but I’ve had a crush on you from the moment we met that day in the foyer of the AXA. Been trying to ask you out for months, but instead I’d end up making up some vague injury that needed looking at because the moment you look at me, I’m gone. So here goes: Can I take you out for dinner? Tonight maybe?

She read the card and then re-read it a second and third time, just to make sure it actually said what it said. She felt her cheeks heat up at the memory of the first time she met him. She had just joined the club and was still trying to find her way around the training grounds. Her arms had been full with supplies for the treatment room and she didn’t notice she still had one more step to go coming down the stairs. “Careful!” someone had said, as she collided against him with a tiny shriek. The boxes had fallen, but luckily he had caught her.

“S-so sorry!” she had tried to apologise, momentarily forgetting what else she was going to say when she looked in those bright blue eyes. Jordan had chuckled, making sure she was okay as his hands lingered a little longer than perhaps necessary on her waist. When his fingers brushed against hers as he handed her the fallen boxes, she could’ve sworn she felt a spark of something pass between them. And this remained in the weeks and months that followed. They’d steal glances at one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking, hands would linger a little longer than needed when hugging or when she treated his injuries. She thought it had all been in her head, but now to see it written quite literally in black and white, it took her a while to let it sink in that all this time he had felt the same way.

“You okay?” Jess asked, pulling her from her thoughts. She blinked, trying to clear the fog of memories.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, I have to go,” she mumbled and left her office, still clutching the note to her chest. She made her way down the corridor and saw the team was wrapping up training. Pulling on her puffer coat, she walked outside. Nervous butterflies settled in the hollow of her chest as she spotted the Liverpool captain. She swallowed hard and kept walking until she was almost in front of him.

“Hey,” she said, fidgeting with the note.

“Hey,” Jordan echoed, cheeks flushed. She wondered whether that was just because of the cold.

“I-.. Thank you. F-for the flowers I mean. How did you know peonies are my favourite?” Jordan shrugged. “I might’ve overheard you mention it to Jess once,” he said quietly, not quite meeting her eyes now. She was quiet for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. She had not thought this through when she left her office.

“Also found your note,” she all but whispered, looking down at her hands that were fidgeting with the folded piece of cardstock.

“You did?” She nodded, meeting his eyes. He looked at her, eyes full of hope.

“To answer your question, yes. Yes, I’d like that very much.” The smile that tugged at his lips squeezed her heart. He brushed his lips against her cheek, making her stomach fill with butterflies.

“Pick you up at 7?” he asked. She nodded, skin burning where his lips had touched.

“Great,” Jordan said, grinning now, “It’s a date.”

She couldn’t wait.

Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21

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#football fanfic #football oneshot #football drabble #jordan henderson fanfic #jordan henderson oneshot #jordan henderson drabble #liverpool fc fanfic #liverpool fc oneshot #lfc fanfic #lfc oneshot #lfc drabble #boyfriend material fics

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xhopelesslyromanticx · 2 years

Text

Stay - Mason Mount x Reader

Had Covid, was absolutely awful. Hope you guys are good.

Masterlist

summary: Y/n thinks Mason is a narcissist and Mason doesn’t want Y/n to move to Paris. Especially not when she's pregnant. And Ben? Well, he just tries to make them see they can work it out.

Things aren’t always easy, especially when you’re young and trying to balance it all. Your job, relationships and family. It’s all a lot of hard work to be quite truthful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, when Mason furiously slammed the door behind him as you two stepped outside your parents house. The crisp spring air hitting your face as you had just cut your dinner at your parents house short with the excuse of being tired.

When in reality, everybody knew it was because of how Mason was sitting there, looking mad all evening. It was supposed to be a fun dinner to celebrate your big news. Everyone was there for once, even Ben your older brother. But let’s just say not everyone had taken it so well.

„I just don’t understand how you couldn’t have run it by me first.“ Mason slammed the car door of his Mercedes jeep, his beanie hanging low on his face.

„Well, I didn’t think you’d react this way.“ you sighed, putting on your seat belt before burying your head in the car seat.

„You expected no reaction from me when my literal pregnant girlfriend tells me she’s gonna go live in fucking Paris for half a year?“ he hissed, clearly very much still mad about it.

You crossed your arms as he made it sound like something it wasn’t. Yes, you wanted to go to Paris but not for fun. It was a job opportunity that had come up in the french city.

You worked as a physical therapist for Manchester United. As your brother had intoroduced you to the world of football you had known from a very young age what you wanted to do in life. And with his connections you had been able to land a spot in Manchesters team about three years ago. But things had changed, you had met Mason around the same time and after a very long while of sneaking around you had finally told Ben about it.

Your brother was of course not pleased about it. He had sworn Mason if he wasn’t serious about you he wouldn’t hesistate to kill him. But Mason had proved your brother wrong, he loved you and wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. That’s all he knew.

„Besides, you already have a job?“ Mason continued, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

„But you know what things are like there.“ you whined, having told him a million times how unhappy you were. The way things were going in the club football wise was indicating of the tension in the background.

Although you had come to love the guys you just couldn’t handle the toxic environment anymore. Plus this was a great opportunity for you to grow.

„Also this isn’t like some random club Mason.“ you sighed, trying to explain yourself to him „It’s Paris Saint Germaine. It’s not an offer you get any day. And also it’s just six months for now.“

„For now?“ Mason squealed and you could actually see that it was probably not smart to tell him that they maybe would offer a longer contract now „So this could actually turn into a full time thing?“

„No…I don’t know that yet.“ you stuttered, trying to calm your boyfriend down.

Mason shook his head as he bit the inside of his mouth, He stared at the traffic ahead of him as he tried to grasp the fact that his girlfirend just told him she wanted to move to a whole other country. And that all the while, carrying his baby.

The tension in the car was almost unbearable. Mason didn’t say another word, so you were glad when you finally arrived at his house and could escape it. Mason immediately went upstairs and locked himself in the bedroom. So you decided, having to deal with quite strong back pain, to take a warm bath and try to relax a little.

You were only about ten weeks along. You hadn’t even told your families yet. This just all came at a bad time.

„You do realize if you’re in Paris, I’m gonna literally miss your whole pregnancy?“ the door opened an in stepped your boyfriend, wearing nothing but sweats. He was trying not to sound hurt but of course it hurt him that you seemed to not care at all about him being there for it.

You pressed your lips together and opened your eyes, looking at the brown haired guy standing in front of the bathtub „That’s not true.“

„It is.“ he insisted, crossing his arms „It takes at least three hours for me to travel to Paris with everything and plus you’ll have a totally different schedule than me. There will be barely any days that we will have off at the same time.“

„But that’s also the case now.“ you rolled your eyes, playing with the foam „I’m also in Manchester and you’re here. We also made that work.“

„Yes but at least we’re in the same freaking country!“ he now hissed, his voice getting louder. He couldn’t believe you were actually thinking about doing this.

„Stop yelling at me Mason!“ you said through greeted theet, looking up at him „You’re such a fucking narcissist. All you care about is you and your career! What about me?“

„But you’re fucking pregnant Y/N!“ he swung his arms around frustratedly, not understanding how you couldn’t see his point.

„So what?“ you furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head „I just stop existing?“

„No. That’s not what I mean. But this isn’t the time to go to a different country!“ he argued, pacing up and down „And god if you fucking hate your job so much than quit it! No one will blame you anyways, you’re pregnant and you’re allowed some time-“

„I think you should get out.“ you muttered, having heard enough of his sexist nonsense. Mason took a deep breath as his expression changed, look of dissapointment on his face. He shook his head before opening his mouth but before he could even speak you interrupted him again „I really think you should leave.“

The next week was horrible. United lost against Atletico Madrid and with that they were offically out the Champions league. The atmosphere in the tunnel afterwards was obviously horrible. But it showed you once again that you had to leave this place.

„Hey Ho.“ Jesse smiled, putting his arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss against your temple „How are you?“

You sighed, walking through the emptied out tunnels with him. Looking at the inside of Old trafford before looking him up and down. He had also just been benched the whole game, so his still had his tracksuit on.

„I hate it here.“ you sighed and he chuckled with furrowed brows „Really? I love it.“

He was obviously being sarcastic. You knew he couldn’t wait to leave and you couldn’t blame him.

„Can you believe Mason actually wants me to stay at this shithole?“ you continued, raising your eyebrows as you put your arms around Jesse's waist. Both standing there at the end of the tunnel that lead into the stadium, that you had walked down all these years.

„He didn’t take the news well?“ Jesse asked, knowing of your job offer as you bascially told him everything.

„No.“ you sighed, pressing your lips together „He wants me to stay here. With him.“

„Well, that’s probably because he loves you.“ Jesse chuckled and then the door to the cabins opened and out stepped Marcus.

You and Jesse waved at the depressed looking guy as he made his way towards you with his head hanging low and while you two watched the young guy Jesse sighed „But if you ask me. Our time here is up.“

You put in your two weeks notice the next day. It was easier than expected, apparently a lot of people were quitting at the moment so it wasn’t a big surprise. With your bags packed you left Manchester that weekend, knowing you’d probably only be back to pick the rest of your things up.

It was kind of weird but you did get to say your goodbyes to your team and also to the guys and went back to London. Not having your own place there and still being mad at Mase, you decided to stay at your brothers house.

„What did you do to Mason?“ Ben asked as soon as he saw his sister enter the door, completely ignoring the fact she had brought a literal car full of her stuff.

„What?“ you asked, standing in the hallway of your brothers house „Hello to you to.“

„Hello. What did you do to Mase? He’s been acting all weird in training and can’t concentrate. Plus he’s been playing like shit.“ your brother asked again, standing in front of you with crossed arms.

You sighed, throwing your bag on the floor before taking off your jacket „I didn’t do anything.“

„Really?“ Ben furrowed his eyebrows, studying you as you pushed past him. Really craving something to eat.

„Yes.“ you sighed, entering his kitchen „He just doesn’t want me to have a career I guess. Seems like he’s stuck in the last century-“

„That doesn’t sound like Mason.“ Ben squinted his eyes, looking at you suspiciously. He watched you open his fridge without even asking before roaming it for something you liked.

Your brother knew at the moment your hand grabbed that glass of pickles and you devoured them like your life depended on it; something wasn’t right here. It took im a while two put two and two together.

The way Mason had clearly been mad at you the past week but still asked him about you all the time. If you had called or texted or whether or not he knew how you were. Ben of course found it weird that he seemed to worry so much when the two of you were clearly fighting

„Oh my god.“ Ben ripped his eyes wide open as you stopped in your tracks „You’re pregnant!“

With that being revealed, you had now to deal with not only Mason being mad at you but also Ben. But not for maybe getting pregnant by accident, no for the fact that you wanted to move his future niece or nephew to France. Ben of course immediately sided with Mason, saying this was no way to start a family.

„Just leave me alone please.“ you told your brother, who had been whining in you ear all afternoon „I have to get this zoom call.“

„No I won’t leave you alone.“ Ben pressed open the door to the guest bedroom, where you were about to have a call with representatives from Paris to discuss further details „You need to talk to Mason before you agree to anything!“

„Why does everything always revolve around him Ben?“ you hissed, taking out your earplugs „The fact that I literally had the shittiest past couple days because I had to quit my fucking job and leave behind my friends-“

„You quit?“ your brother asked, eyes wide open „So wait, you’re actually serious about this?“

It was after your call that you got a text from Mason. After a literal week of silent treatment he hit you with a „I think I strained my muscle in training today, don’t wanna cause panic for nothing though. Could you maybe look at it?“

Angrily you put on your jacket and Ugg's, not even caring you looked like a total slob. You just couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to hurt himself. If you only wouldn’t care so goddamn much.

When you walked into Masons bedroom he was laying there with his head propped up on pillows, an icebag over his ankle. You sighed as you shook your head, still wearing your jacket.

„Y/n.“ Mason sighed, watching you approach him.

You didn’t say anything, you just started inspecting Masons ankle. Pulling up his grey sweatpants a little before taking away the ice bag.

„Ouch.“ Mason sighed, when you stretched his foot a little. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, his hair still wet from showering.

„It hurts that much?“ you asked, pushing down a little again.

„Yes.“ he groaned but you just continued, trying to figure out what seemed to be the problem.

Mason sighed, looking you up and down „Don’t you wanna take off your jacket?“

„I’m not planning to stay.“ you responded, not even looking at him as you focused on your work.

„Wow.“ he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms „We are being really charming aren’t we?“

„Shut up.“ you shook your head, comparing his legs „Can you stretch both of your legs please?“

Mason did so and you had to hover above him to really get a good view. As you played around with ankle trying to test his mobilty. All the while Mason groaned in pain.

„You’re really such a sissy.“ you had to hold back your laughter, shaking your head.

„I’m not.“ he hissed, puting his lips „It just hurts like a- Ouch! Jeez Y/N!“

Mason pulled away his foot as you chuckled. The guy sat up looking at you like you had lost your mind.

„You strained your inside muscle.“ you stated, crossing your legs „Should be fine in a week or so. You just probably gonna need a week or so off-“

„I can’t take a week off now.“ he sighed, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed „I got picked for the England squad and I’m gonna be at St.Georges the upcoming weeks.“

„What?“ you spat out, hearing what he had just said.

You couldn’t believe Mason was actually gonna be away again. Especially after literally preaching about asking eachother about these things first. It was like he didn’t care about you at all. It was all about him, all the time.

„I can’t just not do this Y/n!“ Mason yelled as you stood in front of your car „It’s not like I have a choice!“

„It’s not even that Mason!“ you yelled, shaking your head „It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me or ask me first. We literally have a doctor appointment coming up. You promised you were gonna come-“

„But what about all the doctor appointments I would miss if you were in Paris huh?“ he spat out, not understanding you „You don’t seem to care about my role in this at all. Why should I?“

„Are you serious?“ you shook your head, throwing your hands around „Of course I care about the father of my future child but I’m only just finding out he’s a total narcissist.“

„I’m not a narcissist Y/n.“ he muttered through gritted teeth „I’m just saying you can’t take my child to another country and expect me to not have an opinion about it.“

„Whatever Mason.“ you hissed, opening your car door „Have a nice time at St.Georges, I’ll travel to Paris to sign my contract then. And don’t even bother to show up at my doctors appointement, I’ll just take Ben.“

„Wait he knows?“ Mason asked and you just realized you hadn’t even told him„And what contract are you even talking about?“

„I had a call this afternoon.“ you replied, looking back at him one last time „They’re offering me a full time job if I’m willing to start asap.“

The Parc the Princes was stunning and you could tell they had truly invested in it. You followed one of the managers and the boss of the medical staff through the halls of it as they showed you everything. There was an upcoming match and the team was already training on the pitch.

„I think with the job obviously comes getting along with everyone.“ Claude, the boss of the medical staff said „So I think it be nice if you could say a quick hello to the team.“

„Yes sure.“ you smiled politely, feeling yourself get nervous as you approached the players.

They were all of course mostly focused on training with some of them, goofing around.

„Ah, look.“ Claude smiled as a dark haired guy jogged towards you, a big grin on his face.

„Bonjour.“ the guy greeted Claude and you could tell he wasn’t french.

„Bonjour.“ Claude smiled back before turning to you „Achraf this is Y/n. She’s thinking about applying for the job as the physical therapist. Y/n this is-“

„Achraf Hakimi.“ he chuckled, holding out his hand to you. You shook his hand, gladly accepting his offered handshake „Nice to meet you Achraf.“

„Hakimi, watch out.“ a voice yelled and next thing you knew a ball flew directly into Hakimis face.

You chuckled seeing a younger guy that you immediately recognized jogging towards you, laughing his ass off.

„Kylian!“ Hakimi groaned, covering his face with his hand.

„Sorry.“ Kylian laughed, grabbing Hakimis head and trying to comfort him.

„And this is Kylian.“ Claude chuckled and you nodded „I figured.“

Kylian pressed his lips together, before scratching the back of his neck „Sorry about this.“

„That’s okay.“ you smiled, knowing he meant the interruption „I was just looking around anyways.“

„Y/n might be our new phyical therapist.“ Achraf now smiled, elbowing Kylians side „So behave yourself Mbappé.“

„Oh really?“ Kylian looked at you with wide eyes before squinting his eyes „Wait are you Y/n Chilwell?“

As it turned out, Kylian knew who you were. Well he knew Ben and you were siblings. All the guys were super nice and you were even invited to watch the game later. Which you of course agreed to.

After your weekend in Paris you travelled back home to London. Telling the people at Psg you‘d have to think about their offer first. You were surprised to find that Kylian had already followed you on instagram, after all you hadn’t signed anything yet.

Maybe he was just being nice. After all you did spend a really fun weekend in Paris with him. So this was probably a friend thing. He was actually a hood person and had offered you the open ear that you had really needed.

„You’re famous.“ Ben stated as you stood in front of his refrigerator once again.

„What do you mean?“ you raised your eyebrows, not getting what he meant.

„A certain big football star from France just followed you. Plus there are rumors that you already signed your contract.“ Ben stated, scrolling through his phone as you sighed.

This wasn’t the things you wanted people to know you for. It wasn’t like you didn’t have your own life.

„So?“ is all you answered, shrugging your shoulders.

„Y/n how’s Mason supposed to feel seeing this? You two haven’t even talked about-“

„I’m pretty sure we are not speaking to eachother at the moment.“ you rolled your eyes, hoping Ben realized how sexist he was being.

„You two broke up?“ Ben asked, worry in his voice. He thought all of this was just extremely unnecessary and childish. These weren’t even real problems.

„No, we are on a break.“ you stated, explaining the difference to him.

„So did he want that? What about you literally being pregnant?“ Ben looked like he alread knew the answer. Mason loved you way too much, he’d never suggest something like that.

„No it was me actually.“

Things took quite a big turn when you got a call from one of your former co-workers. They told you that one of the emergency medical staff member for the upcoming England game had gotten Covid and had infected half the team. They now were in need of urgent backup.

You sighed as the woman handed you your clothes, the ones you’d have to wear on the pitch. The bright orange vest was absoluetly awful but hey you were proud to represent your country. You were there as an expert, along the other medics.

The Wembley stadium was filling up quickly and you did realize you were gonna see Mason here. He probably knew about you coming here as you had told Ben. Waiting around on your phone as you sat by the stands, this could be fun.

It was probably your hormones that made you dread seeing Mason. It wasn’t like you took this whole break thing seriously. You loved Mason but you just had to figure out this one for yourself. Whether or not you should go to Paris was your choice.

Mason’s eyes fell on you as soon as he ran onto the pitch. He looked at his girlfriend, a million feelings and thoughts racing through his body. Hopefully you were fine. And the baby was fine. Had you really signed the contract?

„You ok mate?“ Declan asked Mason, as he noticed his friend looking rather worried. Declans eyes followed Masons gaze as they fell on you „Ah, the missus is here. Everything good between the two of you?“

„I hope so.“ Mason sighed, running his hand through his fluffy hair.

It was in the 25th minute when Mason was tackled by one of his opponents and landed on the floor. From the pain shooting through his leg, he immediately knew. He groaned in pain, holding his ankle where he had strained his muscle just two weeks ago.

„Is he hurt?“ you asked, panic immediately setting in as you checked for allowance to go check on Mason on the field.

After Mason tossed and turned on the floor, the referee finally blew the whistle and your team was allowed to go on the field.

You never hurried on a pitch faster than that day. It was the exact moment you realized you could never ever handle the pressure to work in the same club as Mason. This wasn’t just some guy. This was your boyfriend, the love of you life.

You pressed your way past Mason’s teammate, who were arguing with the opponent as your two assistants immediately checked Masons injury. The referee standing above you as you dropped to your knees, hovering above your boyfriend that was crying out in pain.

„Mase?“ asked trying to get him to look at you.

Mason was obviously hyperventilating. He was afraid of what had happened. You could tell, it had to hurt pretty bad. That’s why you had told him to rest for fuck sake. Now this seemed to be more serious.

„Mason. Listen!“ you grabbed his shoulders, trying to stop him freaking out „You need to tell us what hurts, alright can you tell us that?“

„It‘s… It‘s.“ he stuttered, looking into your eyes „It’s bad Y/n.“

You immediately put your hand up, signaling your team to come. It wasn’t long until Mason was carried out the stadium in absolute agony as you tried to cover his face a little, so he could have at least a slight bit of pride left.

You obviously volunteered to join Mason on the ride to the hospital, sitting right by his side as he laid in the back of the ambulance.

„I’m so sorry this happened.“ you sighed resting your arms on your knees as you looked at the guy, who had just stopped hyperventilating after they had to literally sedate him.

„It’s not your fault.“ he whispered, his voice shaky.

„I wish I would have been more stern with you. You shouldn’t have gone to training with your foot.“ you sighed, shaking your head as you felt guilty „If I just had been harder on you this wouldn’t have happened.“

„That’s not true.“ Mason shook his head, giving you a weak smile „I was stern with you but you still left for Paris. It didn’t keep you from foing what you wanted because you are your own person.“

„We make our own decisions that’s right.“ you nodded, agreeing with the guy.

„I saw that you got the big follow.“ Mason smiled weakly, crossing his arms „Signed the contract?“

You chuckled, looking around the car before sighing „No I didn’t.“

Mason looked surprised, he had expected you to have done it. Especially after you had seemed to have a great time in Paris.

„Actually I got the follow because I spent the whole day in Paris with Kylian.“ Mason didn’t look amused by that but you continued „And we talked, a lot and I eventually told him about you and my situation.“

„What did he say?“ Mason raised his eyebrows, surprised by the turn of events.

„He said that If he regrets one thing in life, it’s having not put his family first. Job opportunities come and go but your family is there forever.“

You grabbed Masons hand and he looked at you hopeful „So you actually want to stay?“

„I want to stay.“

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theveryworstthing · 4 years

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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studiojeon · 3 years

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use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | - Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee).

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed.

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish. “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes.

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better.

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you.

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face.

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly.

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips.

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way.

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were.

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion.

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on?

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week.

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker.

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way."

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while.

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either.

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out.

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside.

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you.

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know".

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right.

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?"

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though.

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t.

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

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heavenlyhischier · 3 years

Text

only when you're high - rafe cameron

word count: 4.3k

summary: Rafe only ever talks to you when he's high, and you've eventually had enough.

warnings: angst i guess, language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, lil makeout sesh at the end

note: ik this isn't the request but i've been working on this for a while so here ya go <3 this is def not my best writing so dont judge it too harshly

3:53 a.m.

You had been dreaming about your cat taking over a world full of people with fish heads when the incessant ringing from your phone jolted you awake. You blindly flung your hand onto the nightstand, knocking over a half empty water bottle and a bottle of ibuprofen before your fingers grazed the cool screen. You picked up the device, nearly blinding yourself when you opened your eyes to see who was calling you at such an ungodly hour. Once your eyes adjusted to the screen’s brightness, the name ‘Stupid Kook’ was displayed across the top. You hesitantly swiped to answer.

“What in the flying fuck do you want,” You whisper yelled, propping your half-conscious body up with your elbow.

“Hey, baby,” He greeted, his voice dragging as if he was thinking too hard about his words. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

You stopped breathing for a moment, not sure what you were supposed to say to his weird revelation. You had been having a weird thing with Rafe for a few months now. After many drinks, you would often finding yourself making out with him in a secluded area. Despite your random make out sessions, he had never once called you to simply hear your voice. In fact, he hadn’t even called you before. It was usually always a quick ‘wyd’ text at midnight and nothing more.

“That’s weird, you’ve never called me before,” You pointed out, “You’ve also never called me baby before, so what’s that about?”

“Mm, I don’t know. Always wanted to call you that before so why not? What are you up to, baby,” He asked, his words slurring together in a way that could only happen while under the influence.

“You’re high aren’t you,” You sighed. Of course, he was high. You should have known that from the get-go. Rafe Cameron wouldn’t have called you sober; he never even looked at you sober.

A brief silence hung over the line, Rafe’s heavy breathing being the only thing coming through the receiver. “Maybe a little. Had a rough day, so I went to see Barry and now I’m at Topper’s. Talking to you.”

You couldn’t help but let a small smile grace your features; a smile that was gone almost as soon as it came. You let your elbow fall from its position, your head falling back onto the pillow that was still warm from when you were asleep. “How sweet of you. What are you doing, anyways? Shouldn’t you be getting shitfaced and taking some innocent girl to bed?”

He let out an airy laugh before speaking. “The only one I’d like to take to bed is you, and we somehow always stop before it gets to that point. Anyways, it’s just me, Topper, and Kelce, and I started thinking about us in the back of my truck when we were outside. Before I knew what I was doing, you answered the phone.”

Your cheeks flared red as images of Rafe’s hands exploring your body flashed through your mind, the feeling of his ring on your skin igniting something inside of you. His mouth latching onto the sensitive spots of your neck as your moans filled his truck. You let your fingers ghost over your lips as if you could still feel his own on yours. More memories of him exploring your body in every way but the way you wanted him most were running through your mind. Every time you wanted to give in to him, give in to your urges, but you couldn’t.

“You know, I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you and I hate it,” He started, his words still slow, “I hate it because you’ll never let me have you.”

“Rafe,” You groaned, running a hand over your tired face, “I don’t really feel like giving myself to someone who only talks to me when they’re drunk or high. Someone who would rather be caught dead than with a pouge.”

“You know it’s not like that, baby. It’s complicated,” He tried, and you could tell there was a hint of unfamiliar panic in his voice.

“It always is. Guess I’ll see or talk to you next time you get fucked up. Goodnight Rafe,” You whispered before hanging up on the boy, ignoring his desperate protests.

1:38 a.m.

You turned the shower water off before stepping out onto the cool tiled floor, water dripping from every part of your body. You chose to ignore the buzzing coming from your phone, moving to grab the towel hung on the back of your bathroom door. However, the buzzing started again as you were drying off your legs.

“Who the fuck,” You groaned as you wrapped the towel around your still wet body. ‘Stupid Kook’ was making a second appearance, much to your surprise. “Yes, Rafe?”

“What’s up your ass,” He laughed his infectious laugh. You could picture him throwing his head back and his glazed over eyes twinkling with amusement, something you had only seen when you found yourself admiring him from afar.

“Nothings up my ass. Just don’t know what your high ass wants this time.” You gripped your phone in your hand and started to walk back towards your room. Your parents had fallen asleep hours ago, so you had to make sure you were quiet. However, that deemed difficult in the darkest hours of the night in your already poorly lit house. You bumped your hip and stubbed your toe on just about anything that was out in the open. Once you were in your room, you hastily shut the door and flipped the light switch on.

“Hello! Hello! Hello! Where are you,” Rafe yelled, making you wince and pull the phone away from your ear.

“Jesus, dude. Calm down, I was walking back to my room,” You chastised, doing your best to hold your phone in between your ear and shoulder.

“What were you doing? I missed you,” He pouted.

You ignored the swelling you got in your heart and said, “I was leaving the bathroom. I just finished showering. What are you doing?”

You grabbed a clean pair of underwear and a shirt you had taken from JJ after you had thrown up over whatever you were wearing that night. Rafe began telling you what he was doing, which was quite literally nothing. However, he quickly dove into a spout of how you were naked and wet and how badly he wanted to see you without any clothes on. Your cheeks were burning as he went on and on about all of the sinful things he wanted to do to you. You let him ramble on a bit more as you turned the light off once you were clothed and ready for bed.

“Okay, that’s enough, Rafe,” You stopped him, pulling your blanket back so you could crawl in bed. “So, calling me two times within a week? You falling in love with me?”

It was so painfully obvious that it was a joke, but you could practically feel the tension radiating through your phone from Rafe’s end. His abrupt silence concerned you because this boy was far from silent when he was doped out.

“Maybe I am,” He finally got out, and you couldn’t detect any sarcasm in it.

“Sure you are,” You rolled your eyes, blaming exhaustion for briefly clouding your judgment, “If you were in love with me, you’d actually talk to me when you aren’t too fucked to remember your own name.”

You started picking at a loose thread on your blanket as you let your mind wander to what life would be life if you had an actual relationship with Rafe. Going to parties with him. Hanging around the Island Club with him and his friends. Him doing lines off your body before having his way with you.

“I will talk to you when I’m not high,” His voice broke you from your thoughts, “If that’s what you really want.”

“I do,” You said way too quickly, “I mean, yeah sure. That would be nice, I guess.”

“Just text me and I’ll answer.” You couldn’t stifle the yawn that escaped your lips, but you did try and hide it from Rafe. Your attempt was no good, though. “You’re tired, go to bed.”

“No, I’m fi-.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Rafe shouted over you, “Talk to you soon, baby.”

Rafe’s name popped up on your phone screen every few days after he had gotten drunk out of his mind or too high to do anything other than find your contact. You didn’t mind it at first, but after you had texted him during the day and those messages went unanswered, you grew hurt and annoyed. You had tried asking him why he wouldn’t respond, but he always found a way to change the subject. You wanted to ask him about it in person, but you hadn’t seen him in almost a month. You wanted to ask him why he couldn’t bother to pick up the phone when he was sober, but wasted no time in calling you as soon as he got his bump in.

One of the nights he called, you offered to have him come over because your parents were gone, but he said no. Made up some excuse about how he was staying with Topper for a while since Sarah cheated on him and he wanted to be there for his friend. You understood that, so you didn’t push him after that. Then, the next time you told him about a party everyone was going to and how you wanted to see him there. You even told him to bring the other two. That time he told you he was staying away from parties for a while, wanting to stay to himself for the most part due to the constant stress from his dad. You knew how Ward could be sometimes, so it wasn’t hard to believe him and move on from there.

You wanted to be mad to him for only acknowledging you when he was high, but you couldn’t be. You’ve always wanted to feel wanted by somebody, and he made you feel like that albeit only when he was far gone from reality. You could deal with it as long as you got to talk to him, no matter how insecure it made you. Well, you thought you could.

2:25

Your parents were gone for the night, so you opted to watch Marvel movies in the living room. You were so invested in watching Iron Man and shoving popcorn in your mouth that you didn’t feel your phone go off the first six times. Or the fifteen times after that. Not that you would have cared either way. You knew the only person it could be was the boy who never wanted you sober. The credits began rolling across the TV, so you finally decided to pick up your discarded phone. You were shocked to see Rafe had called you eight times and texted you thirteen. Overall, his texts said the same thing.

Why aren’t u answering me :(

Call me pls

I wanna talk to you baby

It was if he knew you were finally looking at your phone because his contact popped up not ten seconds later. You rolled your eyes, but reluctantly answered.

“Y/N! Where have you been,” He whined into the receiver, “I’ve been trying to call you for like two hours.”

“Watching movies,” Your words were sharp and short, not particularly wanting to talk to him right now. You’ve nearly reached your breaking point with him.

Rafe could immediately tell something was off with you by the way you sounded. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath in, setting your bowl of popcorn on the coffee table after you paused the end credit scene. You leaned forwards and planted your elbow on your knee as you held your head in annoyance.

“I’m fine, Rafe. I’m just getting fed up with you only wanting to talk to me when you’re high or drunk,” You started, “I used to be fine with it because it once every couple of weeks, but now it’s almost every day and it’s annoying. You told me to text you when you’re sober, and I did, but you never responded. I try and offer to come over to you or have you come to me, but you always have an excuse. I know you want to be there for Topper and you don’t really want to be around anyone right now, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with it.”

“Y/N, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just-It’s complicated. Please understand that,” He was practically begging you to listen to him.

“Rafey, are you coming back to play beer pong with us,” A female voice suddenly cut through the sudden sound of music.

Your breathing stopped and your heart felt like it was being squeezed by Rafe’s own hand. A wave of heartbreak crashed over your entire body. “‘I just don’t want to be around anyone’ huh? Thought you were just spending time with Topper for a while? You know, if you didn’t want to see me, all you had to do was say so,” You whimpered, hurt now mixing with your anger and annoyance.

“No, wait,” He tried, yelling at whoever came in the room to get out, “Y/N, please. It isn’t lik-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. It is like that, Rafe. It is exactly like that. You don’t want to see me, and that is fine. I get it. Why would you ever want to be seen with someone from the Cut? It doesn’t matter, though. Don’t call me anymore. You lied to me. That is not something that I can forgive,” Your tears were too strong to hold back now, “I don’t care for liars, Rafe Cameron, and you’re the biggest one of all.”

You quickly hung up and turned off your phone, throwing it towards the end of the couch so you weren’t tempted to grab it. You grabbed the large blanket from the back of the couch, picked another movie, and let your tears fall as it played in front of you.

“Honey,” Your moms gentle voice broke through, “You fell asleep on the couch.”

You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the bright light shining through the giant window. The headache hit you like a ton of brinks, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in pain. Your mom was hovering over you, her hand on your shoulder and her soft eyes pretending to not notice how puffy your cheeks and red your eyes are.

“I guess so,” You mumbled, pushing yourself up into a sitting position, “I’ll go lay down in my room. I’m still tired.”

She gave you an understanding nod with a caring smile and helped you off the couch. Her hand lingered on your back as if she wanted to say something to you, but she decided to leave it alone for now. You would talk to her when you were ready, if you ever were. You gave her a thumbs up when she told you her and your father would be out again most of the day.

Your feet dragged as you stumbled back to your room, using the wall to keep you steady. You pushed the door open with your foot and gave your cat, who was laying on your bed as if she owned it, a stupid smile. You fell onto the bed and pulled her onto your chest as you turned your phone back on. You were scared to confront the actions from last night, but knowing Rafe, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to even send you a text about it. You were quickly proven wrong the moment your phone turned back on. The vibration from all of the texts, voicemails, and snapchats felt like it lasted for five straight minutes. Nearly all were from the boy you wanted nothing to do with. Although, you noticed a voicemail from Topper, who you forgot even had your number.

Um, hey its Topper. Look dude, I don’t know what happened, but Rafe is freaking out like a bitch right now. He keeps mumbling shit about how he fucked things up with, which I didn’t even know you two were a thing but whatever I don’t really care. He kicked everyone out of my house and has been calling and texting you for like thirty minutes straight now so please call him back, so he shuts the fuck up. If not for him, do it for my sanity before I kill him. Uh, yeah, thanks, bye.

You sighed deeply after the voicemail cut off, your heart rate increasing at the thought of Rafe being upset. If he was bad enough that Topper of all people called you, you knew it was bad. You wanted to not care because of how he made you feel, but you did. You’ve always cared about the blond boy more than you cared to admit. You finally decided to look at the messages he sent you.

Y/N pls call me back

I’m sorry its not what it looks like and I know that sounds stupid but its true

Pls talk to me. I need u to talk to me

I promise that I never wanted to hurt u ok???

I love you, Y/N. Please call me or I’m coming to your house tomorrow.

The world stopped spinning when you read the last message. You kept reading it over and over again as if you misread it the first time. Rafe had never been any kind of affectionate with you until he called you baby. Rafe Cameron was not someone known to get emotional, so you weren’t sure if you believed his words. He was a liar and would do anything to get what he wanted, so what was different now?

You heard a knock on the door followed by your moms muffled voice, but you were too focused on the situation in front of you to notice who it was. Your eyes were glued to the screen, staring at the three words you never thought anyone other than your family and friends would say to you. The world around you was fading away, your heart feeling as if it was going to beat out of your chest as tears slid down your still puffy cheeks. You weren’t going to let him do this to you. You weren’t going to let him toy with you anymore.

“Y/N,” A deep voice dragged you out of your subconscious.

Your eyes darted over to the door and saw the last person you wanted to see. Rafe was standing there, his eyes wide and blood shot and he looked like total shit. His hair was a wild mess, nothing like its usual tamed state. You met his gaze and you wished you hadn’t. One look from him and you were puddy in his hands. One look and every thought you had about never seeing him again flew out the window.

“Hey, can we talk,” He mumbled, his bright blue eyes looking everywhere but at you. “Please.”

Not trusting your words, you gave him a swift nod and gestured to the spot next to you on your bed. You leaned to the side and placed your cat on the ground, watching as she rubbed herself all over Rafe’s leg before scampering away. His walk to your bed was painfully slow, and you wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that was unreasonable.

“What do you want, Rafe,” Your voice was harsh, trying to ignore the urge to reach out to him. “What do you want to talk about? How you only use me for your own pleasure? How you only ever even look at me when you’re drunk or high? How you lied to me? Wanna talk about that?”

Your anger surprised even yourself. One second you wanted to hold him in your arms and comfort him, but then the memory of how he treated you came back and flipped a switch in your brain. You don’t know how you feel and you hate it.

“I deserve every bit of your anger,” He breathed out, letting his hand fall dangerously close to your own, “But please let me explain everything to you, okay?”

“Fine,” You gave in, “Talk.”

“Yeah, thank you, okay. I really do want to talk to you when I’m not absolutely fucked, I do. I know that it doesn’t seem like that, but its true. I just, I can’t. Every time I look at you, think about you, I hear my dads voice screaming at me that I will never be good enough for anyone. I have this thought drilled into my head every day that no matter what I do, who I am, I am just never enough. To me, you’re no exception to that. In fact, you remind me even more. Wait no.”

Rafe rubbed both of his hands over his face and tugged at his hair, afraid that he’s already fucking this up. “Rafe,” You gently spoke up, turning to grab his hands from his face. “It’s fine. Keep going.”

His eyes met yours and you could see how strained he was. There were too many emotions swirling in his eyes for you to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. “Okay, um, okay. To me, you are way too good for me, so the only time I feel comfortable talking to you is when I’m high. I’ve never had trouble talking to any girl before, but you’re more than that to me. You’re more than just some girl to me and it scares me, so I feel like I have to be, yanno, not me. When I talk to you. I want to be with you more than I have ever wanted to be with someone in my life”

Your hand was still holding his as you let his words sink in. Him revealing how his dad truly made him feel made your heart ache for him. It made you want to grab him by the face and tell him how he is more than good enough. You wanted to let him in, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for the risk that came along with it. You’re not sure if you want all the things that came with being with Rafe Cameron. He’s followed by hurt and lies, and you do feel guilty thinking that, but it’s been proven true countless times.

“Rafe, listen to me,” You began, moving so you were straddling him and holding his face in your hands. His hands immediately came to grip your hips, and you are well aware that this was a more than compromising situation. “I understand that your father is probably the worst person we both know, but that doesn’t excuse you lying to me. I don’t know if I can trust you, no matter how much I may want to.”

You watched as tears gather in his eyes, and he was doing his best to keep them at bay. He had never felt the way he feels about you before, and he’s more than aware that his reputation precedes him. He knows that he’s done nothing more than prove how untrusting he is to you, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from trying to prove to you that he means what he’s saying.

“I know that nothing I say will fix what I’ve already done. I know that, but I can show you just how much you mean to me, if you’ll let me. We can go at your pace. Do things your way. Just, please, give me another chance to prove myself to you.”

You’re searching for any detection of a lie in his eyes, in his voice, but you come up empty. You wipe away the stray tears that broke through his wall of protection. You hesitantly placed your forehead on his, and you could hear him take in a sharp breath at the connection. Your eyes fluttered closed, your nose brushing against his as you weighed all of your options.

“Did you mean what you to me? In your last text,” You whispered, too scared to open your eyes and look at him. “Do you actually love me?”

“More than you know,” His breath was hot against your chin, and he pulled you closer into him.

You decided to take a leap, dive into something that scared you more than anything. Your lips finally met his, and Rafe wasted no time in returning the feeling. Your hands fell from his cheeks and clasped each other behind his neck, while his hands stayed placed on your hips, too scared to push you too far. You deepened the passion filled kiss by pulling him closer to you and running your tongue across his bottom lip. Rafe’s lips moved in such a sensual way that you almost didn’t know how to react. It was much different from the lust filled kisses you’ve shared in the past. You started moving your hips on top of him, an action that had him gripping your hips tighter than before.

Y/N,” Rafe breathed out after he broke away from you, “If you don’t stop, I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“Then don’t.”

i have not edited this so if you see a mistake lmk. love u

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #obx #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

Not So Easy

prompt: Harry and Y/N have both had a rough week. Ivy is in the prime of her terrible twos. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

word count: 6.2k

warnings: swearing, smut, a little angst

AN: Fulfilling this request ***. This is part of the CEO!Harry verse. If you enjoy please like, reblog, and come chat with me about it x

*** <--- click for visuals

-----

It was a gorgeous, cool Saturday evening and Y/N had been cooped up in the house all week due to nasty rainstorms that lasted the whole week. All of Y/N’s friends had canceled plans for one reason or another. Anne came down with flu and couldn’t visit like she was suppose to.

Harry had an extra awful week at work - which was saying something - and hadn’t been able to let it go. The frustration and irritation he usually was good at leaving at the office at the end of the workday hadn’t been happening.

Ivy was in the midst of her terrible twos and quite frankly it was disaster for all of them.

They decided on one of their favorite restaurants about an hour outside of London near the beautiful, green countryside. ***

It was a family-owned Italian establishment with outside seating on the patio. The tables were filled but Harry always managed to squeeze himself into a non-existent reservation with his charm (and wallet).

When they’re escorted onto the deck, Ivy had Harry hitched up on his hip and wriggles her into her wooden high-chair with little difficulty - she had just woken up from a nap and was in a seemingly okay mood.

Y/N notices a few pairs of eyes watching them from the table close to theirs but decided that she was just being paranoid. And if she brought it up to Harry she knows he’d immediately tell them to fuck off and mind their business.

They get Ivy settled with her favorite little sensory book and her plush baby doll ***, as they look at the menu, “I’m so hungry,” Y/N grumbles, unable to decide what she wants to eat, Ivy literally running her around all day with no time for refueling.

“Me too, y’didn’t let me finish my meal earlier,” Harry murmurs cheekily, looking at his wife over his menu with a raised eyebrow, “Guess I’ll just have to wait for dessert.”

“Baba’s asleep, she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow,” Harry tells his wife, trotting in their bedroom. He’s already stripping the shirt off his head and wriggling his running shorts down his narrow hips.

Y/N’s laying on the bed, too distracted by her romance novel to notice Harry’s actions - well until he yanks at her ankles until her bum skids towards the end of the bed, she lets out a surprise yelp at her husband’s strength.

He plucks the book from her hands and tosses it to the floor with a thump. His hands are hurriedly reaching to pull down her shorts and panties with impatience at having his wife bare before him.

“Someone’s a bit horny,” Y/N teases, raising her hips to let him slide them down before they join the book on the floor. He ducks down to bite at the soft skin of her hip bone, suckling a dark mark there in ownership.

“Have y’seen yourself, pet?” Harry replies lowly, unable to help himself as he dips down and swipes a long, languid lip up her center with no warning. It has her moaning and pushing herself into his mouth.

“We don’t have long, H. Need you in me,” His wife whines, pulling him up by his hair until he’s slipping his tongue right into her mouth, wasting no time to hike her hips up around his waist and pushing in with one strong, directive thrust.

Y/N blushes and darts her eyes back down to the menu, “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you.”

Harry laughs, eyes wrinkling around the corners, “Y’know even when I’m not good, y’let me.”

It was very very true.

“Oops!” Ivy squeals when her doll falls to the ground. It was one of the new words she’s finally understood in context and it’s unbelievably cute to hear her high, little squeaky voice.

“S’alright, here you go bab,” Harry titters, reaching down to toss it back onto the table for his daughter. She looked so fucking adorable tonight in what Y/N had dressed her in a little Gucci jean jacket with matching jeans. ***

Ivy manages to keep herself pretty occupied until she needs a diaper change. The meals had just arrived, steaming hot and smelling like heaven, but Y/N slings their diaper bag over her shoulder and totes the baby off to the bathroom.

Harry watches them, like the protector he is until they make it to the bathroom safely. He can sense eyes on him (the same group Y/N thought was watching) but unlike his wife, Harry makes eye contact with the table who were staring directly at his wife and then him.

“Can I fuckin’ help you?” Harry asks bluntly, not hesitating to stare down every single person at the table. He didn't want anyone staring at them, staring at Y/N, staring at Ivy. He wanted to enjoy his dinner in peace with his family. He assumed they probably worked for him.

They avert their gaze from the intense man, acting nonchalantly and sipping at their glasses filled with wine as if they weren’t just staring at them. It makes Harry scoff loudly enough so that they can hear it.

When Y/N appears back with Ivy and attempts to plop her back into her seat, her limbs go wiggly and her eyebrow knits with refusal, letting out little kicks, “No mummy, no!”

“Baby, we’ve got to eat now. How ‘bout after we’re done?” Y/N hums in her daughter’s ear, attempting to steady the toddler’s legs to slide into the slots of the chair.

Y/N knew it was going to be a struggle since Y/N told Ivy she couldn’t have the big stuffed animal that was in the gift shop on the way to the bathroom.

“Mummy! Don’t wanna!” Ivy protests loudly, her face pinched with her terrible twos anger as she squirms and twists in her mother’s grip.

“S’okay, give her to me,” Harry tells his wife, taking Ivy in his lap. She smiles with deep dimples up at her father before going to reach her little fingers into his pasta. “No, Ivy. S’hot, it’s goin’ to burn you.”

Ivy pulls her brows together, decidedly not liking what her dad had to say, because she’s reaching out once again. “Ivy, daddy said ‘no’. Be a good girl and listen.”

“Mine.” Oh god, her favorite word at the moment.

“Ivy Elizabeth, s’not yours. S’daddy’s. Mummy ordered you chicken, which she very nicely cut up for you. You need to eat that, lovie,” Harry uses a bit of a firmer voice with the little girl, pulling her plate of cubed of food over.

“Here, bub,” Y/N takes a small piece, bringing it up to her daughter’s full lips. Only to be met with a hand batting it away until it’s being flung limply to the wood floor with a screech.

“No, want that,” Ivy huffs, once again reaching for her father’s steaming plate. She’s nearly close to getting her finger into the burning sauce so Harry has to scoot his chair out a bit so she can’t reach it anymore.

The parents give each other a knowing look because of what is surely about to come. The baby was struggling with being told ‘no’ as of late, as well as claiming nearly everything as ‘mine’. Tantrums were in their prime right now and they thought the pre-dinner nap would have helped.

Spoiler Alert: It doesn’t.

When Ivy realizes she’s no longer able to reach the food, she furrows her brow and pulls back her little fist, hitting at her father’s shoulder. It wasn’t often she tried to hit, likely because most times it landed her on the step for two minutes, but it’s like she knew they couldn’t do that here.

“Ivy,” Harry takes her small hands between his, “We do not hit, do you understand Daddy? S’not nice. If you can’t behave, you’re not getting ice cream before we go home.”

At that point, the little girl would normally calm down a bit and readjust because she really loved ice cream but it didn’t do anything to quell her anger tonight. She shakes her head, curly hair bouncing, before the tears start rolling.

“Should we just get this to go?” Y/N asks, knowing that the whole restaurant doesn’t want to hear the sobbing baby throwing a fit over not being able to dig her hands into her father’s dinner plate.

“Probably best,” Harry grunts when Ivy wriggles and twists in her father’s grip with a frustrated whine, “She’s not goin’ to settle.”

“Down, let me down!” Ivy demands against her father’s grip, like she’s the one running the show.

“Here, give her to me,” Y/N mutters, wrangling the toddler into a tight hold while Harry gets the waiter’s attention to get take away boxes and the check. He’s pulling out his wallet to slide out his black amex and put it on the table.

“Ivy, I’m going to put you down so I can get the diaper bag and your toys. Are you going to stay right next to mummy?” Y/N asks her daughter firmly, making sure her daughter’s little green eyes are meeting hers.

Ivy nods but as soon as her feet hit the solid ground, she lets out a giggle and dashes from beside her mother. She doesn’t get very far because she’s running straight into the legs of another patron and tumbling on her bum.

She’s not at all hurt but takes it as an advantage to throw herself onto the floor, screaming and tears - the whole dramatic show because she’s not getting her way and well....she’s a two year old - that’s all the reason she needs, right?

Harry’s in full dad mode now, “I’ll get her to the car. Y’got this, love?”

Y/N nods, sighing at the loss of their nice dinner as her daughter has all eyes directed on their family - the last thing she wanted to happen. But she just focuses on shoveling the still hot foot into the plastic containers to take home.

“S’enough of that, Ivy. This isn’t how we act, hmm?” Harry hums, pulling his daughter off the floor and into his arms - “What’s gotten into you, bug?”

Ivy sniffles, knuckling at her wet eyes, “Home, daddy.”

“We’re taking you home, don’t you worry,” Harry chuckles, smiling softly when she tucks her head into the crook of his neck, thumb finding her lips. His large palm came to rub at her back and bounce her lightly.

When Y/N finally gets everything together, one of the waitresses - an older woman, stops by the table, “How old is your daughter?”

Y/N smiles, “Just turned two a month ago.”

The grey lady has a kind, knowing grin on her face, “What an age, huh? She looks like a little replica of your husband.”

The girl laughs, they can’t go anywhere without hearing that from someone, “Oh, believe me. They have the same attitude too,” She jokes, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“I wish you two luck. Two is a very hard age, I have five kids of my own. Just appreciate it, even though the tantrums are a pain in the arse,” She says, patting Y/N on the shoulder before heading back to a table who was waiting on her.

---

Both the parents were frustrated, more so than they usually are with Ivy’s tantrums. They thought she’d simmer down once they’d gotten home but it had just revved up again when she realized she really wasn’t getting any ice cream.

“Shouldn’t have even promised her ice cream in the first place,” Y/N mutters with frustration as they stand near the staircase. Ivy sat on the step for two minutes in timeout, kicking her little feet against the marble.

“Right, because I knew she’d decide to have tantrums all night,” Harry shoots back, matching his wife’s tone. The screaming was echoing through the house, high-pitched and it just made you want to cover your ears from it.

Y/N rolls his eyes at him, motioning towards their daughter, “Well, this is your doing because you reminded her that she wasn’t getting it. You deal with it, I’m going to shower.”

“You’re not doing much to help anyways,” Harry hisses, their voices both low so that their daughter doesn’t hear - not like she would over the screaming match she’s having with herself.

They rarely fought to be honest. This wasn’t even a fight - really. It was hard raising a two year old and they were learning as they went along. The couple was good at communication and working through their problems most of the time.

“I’m not doing much to help?” Y/N asks in disbelief, “Then if I’m no help at all, why don’t you put her down for bed? You don’t need me, obviously.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, his hand gripping the railing with a hard grip, “Don’t go twistin’ my words, that’s not what I said. Now you’re just lookin’ for a fight.”

“Yeah, because on top of a fussy two year old - I want to deal with a childish husband. I’m surprised you're not on the stairs, cryin’ about ice cream too with how you’re acting,” Y/N laughs - the sound crawling under Harry’s skin with irritation at her fake carefree attitude when she’s just as annoyed as him.

“You’re being an even bigger brat than our daughter right now,” Harry tells her, trying to keep his voice at a low volume but it comes out louder than intended. He felt himself straighten up and kept direct eye contact with his wife.

Y/N’s lips form into a tight line before gritting out, “Do not raise your voice at me. We agreed that no matter how frustrated we got we wouldn’t do that in front of our daughter.”

“Then don’t act so immature, ever think of tha’?” Harry bites, hating the he hears his work voice being directed at his wife when he never wants that.

“How am I being immature? You promised her something that she didn’t get, then reminded her that she’s not getting it. I’m allowed to be frustrated with you!” Y/N whisper-shouts, Ivy is now distracted by taking her little shoes off and watching them tumble down the stairs.

“I have so many better things I could be doing right now than stand here and fight with you over our daughter having a stupid tantrum. I’ll be in my office,” Harry replies, because when he doesn’t know what to do and refuses to admit he’s wrong - he falls back to his best excuse, work.

And he automatically regrets it when he sees a flash of hurt cross his wife’s face. Harry wants to swallow back those words and wrap his wife up into a hug. Never wanting to make her feel like his work is worth more of his time.

Deep down, they both know she knows that it’s not the truth but in the midst of the fight it doesn’t sting any less. He opens his mouth to apologize, to tell her that he’d rather put their daughter to bed together any night than be in his office.

But he can tell she’s already past the point of being pissed when she replies calmly, “I’ll put our baby to bed. Go work on whatever is more important than us, Mr. Styles.”

Harry wants to reach out and grab at her arm, tug her into his chest, and murmur in her hair how much he loves her more than anything. He said that because he knows it’s hurtful and it’s his only way to win an argument with her.

However, she’s moving up the stairs, scooping the somewhat calmed down baby into her arms and trudging up without another look at her still brooding husband.

Harry hears Ivy shout back down the stairs, “Daddy, come on!”

He hears his wife tell his daughter, “Daddy’s too busy with work, Ivy. S’just mummy.”

But that has Harry absolutely fuming, storming up the stairs after then, “Do not make it seem like I’m ever too busy for my daughter. That’s completely uncalled for, Y/N.”

Y/N doesn’t turn back to face him, instead keeps walking, and says with a monotone voice, “Oh, but you just said you had better things to be doing than dealing with your family. So go take care of your work, hot shot. I’ll take care of our daughter.”

“Why are you making it seem like I put my work before Ivy? I’ve literally never let that happen and you know that. You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion because Ivy’s been having tantrums and you can’t put on your big girl pants and deal with them.”

That’s when Y/N spins around on her heel, letting Ivy down and encouraging her to go play in her room for a little before bedtime. Her face is turning red - which rarely happens unless they’re really about to get in an argument.

“Big girl pants? Really, I’m at home dealing with her tantrums twenty-four seven. You get to come home from work and only deal with it half on the time. Do not act like you know how stressful it is to stay at home with a toddler in their terrible twos all day.”

“Do not act like it’s harder than running a multi-billion pound business,” Harry scoffs, his voice becoming lower with frustration with an argument that was going nowhere. He had a cocky lift to his voice that made her want to scream.

“Oh, because it’s so difficult half the time? Last week, you got to go on your private jet to Paris for three days for business aka dinner and golfing while I sat at home alone!” Y/N raises her voice, angry tears forming over her lids.

“Sat in our 35 million pound house with a pool, playground, plenty of shops in town, unlimited money doesn’t sound like a hardship, love,” Harry replies, jaw clenching but his fingers itching to brush the tears away.

“You know what? It’s Sunday tomorrow. I’m going out. You watch her for the whole fucking day and see how easy it is. For now, enjoy the guest room,” Y/N spits out, storming down the hall to Ivy’s room to get her ready for bed.

“With pleasure,” He tells her, retreating back into his office and slamming the door. He wasn’t a fucking inadequate father.

He never put work before his family. He knew it wasn’t easy being at home and as soon as he sat his arse in his leather chair - he realized what a douchebag he was being to his stressed out wife.

Harry didn’t want to sleep in the guest room, he wanted to be spooned up next to his wife, whispering apologies for letting the stress of the week get to him. Remind her what an amazing partner and mum she is to him. How lucky he is.

The issue was - Harry had pride issues. He wasn’t one to admit defeat even when he should. He thrived on challenges so he was eager to show his wife that he’d have no problem taking on his terrible twos daughter.

He sneaks into his daughter’s room after she’s fast asleep in her crib, checking on her to make sure she’s okay before hesitantly entering their bedroom where his wife is fast asleep but a pile of clean clothes for him on the floor tells him she was serious about him sleeping in the guest room.

It was torture, not being able to be in the same bed as his wife. The love of his life. He thought about it multiple times - going in and groveling but his stubborn brain wouldn’t allow it. After such a long week, he was looking forward to sleeping in and his head hit the pillow in no time.

“Rise and shine,” His wife's voice wakes him up, it wasn’t with her normally cheery tone but with the same irritation as the night before. She definitely hadn’t magically forgiven him yet - dammit. Her voice is nearly drowned out by a fussy curly-haired baby.

“Wha’s wrong?” Harry grunts, sitting up to see Ivy still in her pajamas with sheet wrinkles across her face. Skin pink and warm from her nice, peaceful sleep.

However, she decided to wake up today with a massive chip on her shoulder.

“Ivy’s upset because she can’t find her ballerina doll,” Y/N replies.

Harry notices she is already fully dressed *** and made up for the day. “Might want to get up and help her find it. I’m heading out like we agreed on.”

“Fine,” Harry replies with a tight lip, rubbing his eyes as he’s still half asleep. “Y’look pretty.”

“Thanks,” Y/N replies nonchalantly, leaning over to kiss Ivy on the forehead, “I’ll see you later bug, I love you.”

Ivy looks at her mother in betrayal as she leaves Harry to manage their little ball of fury. He tries to tug her in for a big, warm hug but she shrieks and screams at her father, “Ballerina!”

“Ssh, okay. We’ll go look for y’ballerina, dove. No need to yell, s’too early,” Harry grumbles, sitting up and automatically being pulled by the hand off the bed to search for this doll that could be anywhere in this thousands upon thousands of square foot home.

After extensive searches, Harry realizes that he’d left it on the roof of the car when he was tucking her into her carseat last night. The cute little plush doll is now mostly likely roadkill on the country stretch.

“Ivy, y’literally got a whole room dedicated to stuffed animals and dolls. Let’s go pick somethin’ from there, yes?” Harry tries, his daughter’s arms crossed and glaring at Harry like he had just killed her hopes and dreams.

“No! No!” The toddler absolutely wails, plopping her little diaper-clad bum on the ground before kicking her feet against the marble. She had herself worked up until her cheeks were cherry red and tears were staining her shirt.

Harry couldn’t lie - he’d only been watching her for about two hours and he was starting to feel anxiety creep up in his throat over what to do. It wasn’t that he couldn’t parent her, but it was a lot of crying and he hated seeing her upset.

“Why don’t we go eat some breakfast? Does that sound good, lovie?” Harry offers hopefully, having to contain a laugh at how much she looks like him when he’s angry. The little crease between her eyes, the green in her eyes sparkling a little darker than usual.

Her eyes peek up at her father, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry sighs in relief, scrubbing at hand down his face, taking her into the kitchen, strapping her in the highchair before whipping up some cheesy eggs for her.

When he puts down the plate in front of her, he has to say she’s surprised when she slaps it off the tray and onto the floor, spilling everywhere. “No, want mummy’s breakfast.”

Her father looks at her with a comically bewildered expression before turning on his dad voice, “We do not throw things on the ground. Do you understand me, Ivy Elizabeth?”

Her full little lips are drawn into a tight pout as she tosses her baby fork on the ground to join the still warm eggs in a heap.

“Mummy’s breakfast.”

The scolding goes in one ear and out the other, she doesn’t acknowledge her father but continues on her demands.

He caves after trying to no avail to decipher what ‘mummy’s breakfast’ means.

Ivy threw her eggs on the ground. She’s demanding mummy’s breakfast.

She’s hated eggs for the past two weeks now. Vanilla yogurt with diced strawberries and blueberries in her red baby bowl.

He does as she says, arranges a nice little bowl of yogurt with the fruit. He couldn’t find the red bowl so he substituted for a blue one.

It results in the yogurt also being smacked to the ground.

She threw that on the ground too.

Did you put it in a red bowl?

I couldn’t find it, just put it in a blue bowl

She only wants to eat breakfast out of red bowls right now

Harry groans, he didn’t know his daughter was this difficult about breakfast time. He was usually gone by the time she’d woken up for the day. Y/N usually let him sleep in a bit on the weekends until ten or so.

After digging for the specific red bowl, doing up her breakfast again - Ivy happily begins eating until it drips down her sleep clothes, rubbed all over her cheeks, and it even manages up in her tangled locks.

“S’that just so yummy, Vee?” Harry hums after she’s finished. “Looks like it’s bath time.”

He really should have guessed at this point when she shakes her head and squeaks, “No!”

“Yes, s’bathtime,” Harry says sternly, traipsing upstairs with the wriggling toddler who is doing everything in her power to fight against her father’s hold.

“No, no, no. Ballerina,” Ivy brings it up again, making it a near impossible task for Harry to wrangle her out of her clothes and diaper.

While he’s running the bath, she darts from the bathroom and through the hallways, right towards the grand staircase where the baby gate isn’t closed. Harry really really didn’t want to yell at his daughter but she could seriously get hurt.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, if you don’t get your little bum over to Daddy right now, you’re going on the step and y’not having playtime at all,” Harry orders loudly, but breathing a sigh of relief when his daughter skids in her tracks to a halt.

The little girl turns on her heels, eyes wide in fright at her dad’s raised voice - which rarely ever happened unless she really wasn’t listening. She begins to cry but not in her now typical anger-induced haze but in a legitimate sad wail.

His heart aches as his daughter toddles obediently back over to him with her little head hung low in regret, “Daddy, hold me?”

Harry can’t deny her so he scoops her up into the crook of his arm, “M’sorry for yellin’, bug. But y’need to be good for Daddy? You could have gotten really hurt and that would have made Daddy sad, okay?”

Her eyes are watery as she looks up at him, her hand curling around his neck before burying her still yogurt-sticky face into his skin, hiccuping with sad whines, “Sad Daddy.”

“Mhm, now are you going to be nice and get a bath f’me? Y’dirty, bubby,” Harry smiles down at her to brighten back up her mood and it works because her dimples pop out of her cheeks and she flashes her small blocky baby teeth.

Ivy surprisingly does well in the bathtub, allowing her father to get her all cleaned up until she accidentally opens her eyes and gets baby soap in them, it’s another round of tears that cannot be controlled.

Harry totes the sobbing toddler into a cute little Moschino onesie and brings her into their bedroom. He’s so fucking exhausted and it was barely noon. His stress level was near a hundred as he couldn’t keep her from being pissed off for more than twenty minutes at a time.

Luckily, it seems like the screaming and crying for the last how many hours had taken a toll on her because as soon as she sprawled on her stomach on Harry’s chest, she’s out like a light. The cutest small snores coming from her as she smacks her lips together while she dreams.

He gives her a few minutes to fall into a deeper sleep before tiptoeing her into her nursery and laying her very carefully into her crib. She doesn’t wake, just whimpers softly and turns on her side, away from her father.

When he’s sure she’ll be okay, he goes back into their bedroom, and well...he just breathes. He didn’t realize how high his anxiety had been up to this point and his whole morning had been nothing but trying to get his daughter calm. He didn’t even have one moment to think about himself.

It really wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Y/N being a stay at home mum - of course, he did. He already knew how bloody amazing and strong she was as a person, he didn’t need this to prove what he already knew. It was his stubbornness to not decline a challenge and they both knew that was the case.

Y/N really didn’t think that Harry doubted her abilities. He nearly spent most of his days telling her how proud he was of her and her abilities as a partner and mum. It doesn’t mean it didn’t sting when he brought up his job compared to hers.

Harry’s in his own world of thoughts that he doesn’t notice a figure leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, “You got everything under control, H?”

His eyes darted up to meet his wife’s, “Not really. She’s a little terror,” He jokes (kind of).

“It’s easy compared to your job, right?” Y/N asks but it’s obviously rhetorical. She drops a few shopping bags on the floor before leaning down to unstrap her high heels, kicking them off along with throwing off the blazer to the floor.

“I never said your job was easy. Y’puttin’ words in my mouth,” Harry argues, sitting up straight and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re right. It’s just not as hard as your job,” Y/N huffs, unbuttoning the tight jeans and shucking them off her thighs. She didn’t have any idea what she was doing to him right now, his mouth nearly watering when her thighs jiggle a bit.

“You’re right, it’s not as hard as my job,” Harry replies, studying his wife’s face when she looks up in surprise - that he was really going to take the fight that far.

“Wow, you re-”

“It’s not as hard as my job, it’s harder,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to pull his wife to stand between his legs, her looking down at him with her hands on his shoulders. “

What I’m doin’ is nothin’ compared to your job. Y’raising our little baby, shaping her into a good person, spending every moment of y’day with her, giving up a lot of who you are for her. That’s more difficult than what I do any day.”

“Har-”

“M’sorry, lovie. Y’know I think you’re the most amazing mum and wife. You do everything for the baba and I. I shouldn’t have taken my anger from my week out on you yesterday and then said the things that I did,” Harry apologizes, his face sincere and open as he leans forward to nuzzle at his wife’s stomach.

When her hands come to run through his unruly locks, he knows he’s forgiven, “I appreciate how hard you work too. I really do, H. You’re the best husband and daddy to Ivy we could ask for. I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you as well.”

“Do you ever feel like I put work before you or Ivy?” Harry asks softly against her thin tank top, his hands come to massage at her full hips. There was a hint of insecurity in his tone that made Y/N’s heart sink a bit.

“No, I really don’t. I was just...I was just upset and I knew that would upset you. I’m sorry, baby,” Y/N murmurs softly, leaning down to kiss at the top of his head.

“Y’going to let me show you how sorry I am, how good of a wife and mum you are?” Harry drawls, his hands going to tug up the fabric of her top and humming appreciatively when she lifts her arms to let him do so.

“Yeah, remind why I married your crabby ass,” Y/N teases playfully, reaching behind herself to let her bra fall down to the crooks of her elbows before tossing it to the floor with everything else. As she’s doing that, Harry takes it upon himself to shimmy off her panties.

“Y’sayin’ you just married me ‘cause I fuck you good?” Harry grunts, standing up suddenly and pulling her up into his arms until her legs are wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck.

“Mmm, mostly. Also for your bank account was pretty good-looking too,” She lies blatantly but he still rewards her with a bruising kiss to her lips as he backs her against the wall so he can use one hand to tug down his running shorts.

“I’d still have married you, best decision I’ve ever made,” Harry says, sobering up from their playfulness. He slows down to be careful as he slides up into her warm heat, her head falling back with a thud against the wall.

“Harry,” She moans approvingly, heels of her feet digging into his backside to goad him into moving faster, “Right there.”

“So bloody in love with you. Please tell me y’know that baby, c’mon, tell me,” Harry begs, leaning down to smear kisses against her collarbone.

“I know, H. You’re so good to me, I love you,” Y/N whines and Harry knows that whine like the back of his hand, she needs more. He reaches down to rub tight, rough circles against her swollen bud until she’s tensing and coming.

“You feel so good, every single time. Don’t know how you do it, s’like you were made just for me,” Harry chokes out, stuttering and coming with his lips suckling a deep spot onto her breast as he rides it out.

After they redress and are cuddled on the bed, murmuring sweet little apologizes and affirmations of love, they interrupted by an angry squeak from the baby monitor - signaling their daughter’s woken up.

“Ballerina!”

hope you enjoyed. please inbox me what you think, like, reblog.

1K notes · View notes

cocobeanncteez · 3 years

Text

ATEEZ San- Back to you (oneshot)

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, university au.

Pairing: badboy!San x reader (fem)

Word Count: 7.3K

Warnings: profanities, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of bullying and cheating, drink spiking, and attempted sexual assault.

Except Ateez, all other names are fictional.

"I don't understand how these stupid people party here when we've got exams in two weeks," your bestfriend, Doyeon, muttered under her breath while scribbling down some notes. You both were at a café in your university, studying for the upcoming exams.

You chuckled, glancing up at her from your notebook. "Your boyfriend is one of those stupid people who are partying right now."

She rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I want to smack Yunho with this," she held up her notebook, making you snort. "I'm surprised you don't get frustrated when San is literally doing the same thing."

"Well, it's his life," you said. "I'm not his parent who can nag at him to study."

San and you have been dating for a little over eight months now; other than Doyeon and San's friends, no one else knew about your relationship. Doyeon and Yunho were also dating for a while now. You both didn't really know why the boys didn't want other people to know about your relationship, but you both just went with the flow despite witnessing girls throwing themselves at them everyday. Doyeon was really calm about the whole situation, but you actually weren't even though you never let it show; you were quite worried about San leaving you for other women who were like him. You never understood why he's dating someone like you: the type who rarely parties, rarely drinks, never smokes, decently studies and gets good grades, never gets involved in fights; the opposite of him, basically.

Doyeon was about to say something, but your conversation was interrupted by someone who suddenly sat beside you in your booth, placing a textbook on the table. "Don't mind me, ladies," one of your university's badboys, Kangmin, said. "There was no place to sit, so here I am."

Ji Kangmin was handsome, and a typical badboy from what you've heard. You didn't really know much about him personally, but you knew his friend group and your boyfriend's group were rivals and often got into fights.

"I'm surprised you're here," Doyeon stated, raising an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be at some party?"

"I don't party when exams are near," he said with a small smile. "I know I don't have a good reputation, but unlike other people here who have the same reputation as me, I actually want to score well and decently graduate." You were stunned, not expecting to hear that from someone like him. Well, maybe all badboys aren't the same.

"Babe!" San whined sleepily when you pulled his blanket off his body. "God, my head fucking hurts."

"Serves you right for drinking all night," you said, running a hand through his messy black hair.

"But the party was epic," he mumbled, eyes closing at the way you played with his hair.

After a few minutes, San took some painkillers and got up to take a shower. When he finished, he immediately pulled you into a hug. "I missed you," he said, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You chuckled. "You saw me yesterday morning."

"But that was in class," he murmured, placing soft kisses on your neck, making your heart race. "I didn't get to talk to you."

"Then maybe you should start talking to me in class," you said and immediately regretted it when you felt San tense up.

San moved a step back to look at you. "Babe, you know I can't do that," he stated. "I don't want people to know about us or start—"

"Yeah, I know," you cut him off with a small smile, hiding your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's fine," he said, kissing your forehead. "Let's go have breakfast, yeah?"

"Um, actually, I have to go back to my dorm," you said, making San frown and ask why. "I've got a study session with Doyeon," you lied; you just didn't feel like being here at the moment.

San sighed, cupping your cheeks. "Babe, you study so much. These exams don't matter much."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "San, these are end of the first semester exams. They're extremely important."

San didn't say anything; he only leaned down to capture your lips with his own. "Stay for a little while, please," he murmured against your lips. Before you could protest, he kissed you again, this time more passionately. He gently pushed you onto his bed, hovering above you before reconnecting your lips. Your hands wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. One of San's hands slipped under your blouse, moving to cup your breast, giving it a squeeze. You gasped due to his actions and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your phone began ringing but both of you ignored it. You were getting wetter by the second and you could feel San's growing bulge pressing against you. When your phone rang for the fourth time, San pulled away with an annoyed sigh. You chuckled, getting up from his bed to get your phone from your bag.

"Hello?" you answered.

"Where are you?! Class is gonna start in ten minutes!" Doyeon exclaimed.

"What? What class? All our classes were canceled for today."

"Mr. Byun said he's gonna take class today. Didn't you check your email?"

"Fuck. I'll be there in five." You hung up and quickly checked your reflection in San's mirror, reapplying your lip balm and tying your hair into a ponytail. San's eyes were on you the entire time.

"Are you ditching your lovely boyfriend for a class?" San asked with a pout. "Especially when you made him get all hard?"

"Yes," you replied with a small giggle. "I'll make it up to you when I'm done, I promise." you placed a quick kiss on his lips before rushing to your dorm to collect your stuff.

"Can I sit here?" you heard someone ask, making you look up from your notebook. Ji Kangmin was giving you a small smirk. "Seats are full."

"Go ahead," you said, returning your attention back onto your books. Fortunately, Kangmin studied quietly, not disturbing you even once.

"Why is this so hard?" you muttered under your breath, eyebrows furrowing in irritation due to the differentiation problem you've been breaking your head for.

"Need help?" Kangmin asked.

"Are you good at calculus?"

He snorted, showing you the cover of his textbook. "I'm a math major, darling." Your eyes widened, not expecting that at all. "I thought you knew but you clearly don't," he said with a chuckle. "But I know you're a computer science major." He reached for your notebook, scanning through what you've written. "Ah, so this is where you went wrong," he murmured before explaining everything to you.

After a good three hours of studying, you got up and stretched your arms. Kangmin helped you with a few sums and told you many tricks and tips to save time and make the problems easier to solve. He walked with you to your dorm building since his was right opposite yours. You caught a few people staring at the two of you, but you brushed it off; Kangmin was popular, so obviously they would stare. You had to admit, it felt quite weird to see people staring at you. You were sure they all would react the same way if you were with San.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Kangmin grinned, running his hand through his brown hair. You nodded with a smile before entering your dorm building.

You spent the entire week studying with Kangmin and sometimes Doyeon joined the two of you. You were really anxious about the exams, but Kangmin managed to make you calm down a little; you were really grateful for his company.

"So Jihoon asked me out and I said yes!" Hyewon said, making you and Doyeon squeal.

"Girl! I told you this day would come!" Doyeon exclaimed, making Hyewon blush. You and Doyeon teased her for blushing, laughing at how her cheeks got even pinker.

San secretly glanced at you from across the classroom, smiling at the sight of you laughing; he thought you were absolutely beautiful.

"What's he doing here?" Jongho muttered, making San and Mingi follow his line of sight.

"Probably here to find someone to fuck," Mingi said in an unbothered tone.

San focused his attention back on you until that very person tapped your shoulder. "Why the fuck is he talking to my girl?!"

You turned to look at the person who tapped your shoulder. "Oh, hey, Kangmin! What are you doing here?" you asked.

He pulled a notebook from his bag, handing it over to you. "I accidentally took your notebook yesterday, so I came to return it," he said. "Sorry about that."

"Oh no, it's okay, don't worry about it," you smiled. He was about to say something, but your professor arrived, so he had to leave and go to his own class.

After the lecture ended, you had lunch with Doyeon, Hyewon, and Jihoon at your dorm's dining hall. You couldn't help but gush about how great Hyewon and Jihoon's chemistry was; they were the cutest couple you have ever seen.

Your phone rang and you picked it up as it was San. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" San asked, sounding a little annoyed.

"At my dorm's dining hall," you replied. "Why?"

"Come to your room right now," he said and hung up before you could say anything. You quickly had the last few bites of your food before excusing yourself, telling your friends you had some work to do.

You made your way over to your room, spotting San right outside your door, wearing a blue hoodie with the hood up and a black mask. You unlocked your door with your key-card, feeling a little anxious due the serious look in your boyfriend's eyes. He closed the door before moving to sit on your bed.

"Sannie, what's wrong?" you asked, moving to stand in front of him. He stared up at you, staying silent for a while before he took off his mask, tossing it on your desk.

"Why did Ji Kangmin talk to you today?"

"He accidentally took my notebook yesterday so he came to return it," you answered honestly.

San raised an eyebrow. "Yesterday? Why were you with him yesterday?" he asked in a stern tone.

"We were studying. He was helping me with calculus."

San scoffed, getting off your bed. "I'm sure that's not what his true intentions are. Stay away from him." San's words annoyed you.

"And how do you know what his true intentions are?" you asked. "We were literally just studying, that's all."

"I don't fucking like him, Y/N. He isn't a good person and I don't want him anywhere near you. So please just stay away from him."

You sighed, glancing at the tiny cat tattoo on San's finger. "Fine..."

San gently cupped your cheek, making you look at him. He didn't like how disappointed you looked and he couldn't help but think about Kangmin stealing you away from him. "Baby... please trust me, he's just trying to get into your pants." You wanted to tell him that all those girls who flirt with him wanted the same, but you knew he already knew that and he liked the attention he got.

"Okay..." You moved away from him, picking up your textbook from your desk and placing it on your bed. "Do you wanna study with me?" you asked San.

"Nah, I'm not in the mood to study."

"You never are," you snorted, earning a wink from him.

"You study, I'll just take a nap here beside you," he said, placing a kiss on your forehead, lying down on your bed.

"Don't try anything, San," you warned him, lying down beside him. He chuckled, placing an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

San fell asleep while you studied. When you took a small break, you couldn't help but admire your sleeping boyfriend; he looked so angelic... ethereal, even. You placed a light kiss on his cheek before slowly getting off the bed to go to the bathroom.

When you came back, San was awake. "How long did I sleep?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"Almost two hours," you said, returning to your bed.

"Oh... oh crap! I should get ready. I've got a party to go to tonight," he said, stretching his arms. "Do you wanna come?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You already know my answer to that."

He chuckled, kissing your head. "Have fun studying, babe."

---

"Finally!" Doyeon yelled in happiness. "We're finally done after two weeks of torture!"

"Thank god we have an entire week off," you said, gently massaging your aching wrist.

"These exams were way harder than I expected," Hyewon said and you agreed. "You both are coming for Kang Hyunsuk's party tonight, right?"

"Of course! It's in a huge mansion, you know? Besides, I need to get drunk and laid in luxury," Doyeon said, making you and Hyewon laugh.

You quickly got ready at Doyeon's dorm in the evening before taking a cab to Kang Hyunsuk's mansion that was fortunately not too far away.

The mansion was decorated with LED lights inside and out. The large hall was converted into a dance floor and he even hired a DJ. You were sure more than half of the students at your college was here, and there were certainly a lot of people from the neighboring colleges as well.

Doyeon grabbed your hand, pulling you to the large kitchen where the drinks and snacks were. You both took two shots of vodka each before you greeted some of your classmates. Doyeon was already really tipsy due to her poor alcohol tolerance. On the other hand, you took another shot and you were still quite sober.

"Wow, Y/N, you look so hot!" Hyewon said, approaching you with Jihoon.

You were wearing a lacy dusty-rose bralette with black ripped jeans and combat boots. The bralette showed off more cleavage than you'd usually show, but you were feeling a little extra today.

You noticed Yunho approaching the kitchen with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, his eyes scanning Doyeon from head to toe. You nudged Doyeon with your elbow, gesturing to Yunho with your eyes. She glanced around, eyes landing on Yunho who gave her a smirk. She smiled at him before moving towards him. She whispered something in his ears, making him drag her away immediately. You weren't expecting your bestfriend to ditch you this early, but oh well.

"Hey Y/N," Seonghwa greeted you. "Have you seen San or Jongho?"

"Nope, I came to the kitchen as soon as I got here," you replied, pouring yourself another shot.

"Ah, all right." Seonghwa and Hongjoong took a drink before they disappeared into the crowd.

One of your friends dragged you outside to the area beside the swimming pool; she wanted to introduce you to some people from another university. You spotted San, Jongho, Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yeosang on the other of the pool, surrounded by girls as usual. There were a few guys there and they were all playing a game of spin the bottle. There was a girl sitting on your boyfriend's lap, and that annoyed you a lot. You couldn't do anything about it since San didn't want anyone to know about your relationship. When you got to see the girl's face, your eyes widened; it was your ex-bestfriend, Park Hyejoo. You scoffed in disbelief; San knew who she was and what she did to you in high school, yet he let her sit on his lap. You tried not to pay attention to them by focusing on the conversation your friend was having with the people she had introduced you to. It somewhat worked... until you heard cheers and whistles which caught everyone's attention.

Hyejoo's face was buried in San's neck, no doubt giving him a hickey. He wasn't even pushing her away. You felt your eyes tear up, but you blinked it away. You couldn't look away until she pulled away. And then she kissed him, causing you to gasp.

"Why are you so surprised?" your drunk friend asked you. "She fucks around as much as Choi San does. I even heard they're fuck buddies."

San pulled away from Hyejoo, but he only smirked at her, making no effort to push her off his lap. Yeosang—who was sitting beside San—noticed you watching, and he immediately elbowed San. "You fucked up big time, bro," Yeosang murmured in his ear.

"What do you mean?" San asked.

"Y/N's over there. She saw everything."

San glanced around until his eyes found your disappointed and sad ones. He wasn't even expecting you to attend the party. He scanned you from head to toe, eyes darkening due to the way you looked in that outfit.

"You dumb fuck," Yeosang muttered, low enough for only San to hear. "Are you seriously eye-fucking her right now? Put your damn reputation aside and go talk to her before you fuck shit up more, idiot!"

San excused himself, pushing your ex-bestfriend off his lap, making his way over to you. But of course, he couldn't be seen with you, so he just gestured with his head for you to follow him. Even though you were so upset, you followed him a few seconds later. He stopped at the garden where there was no one; you could still hear the blasting music from here.

San was dressed in all black and he looked absolutely irresistible. You would've asked him to fuck you right here against the wall, but you were damn pissed at the moment.

"Damn, babe," he said, lips pulling into a smirk. "My girl's looking so hot." He reached out to pull you into his arms, but you took a step back. San frowned. "Babe..."

"You knew what Hyejoo did to me," you said with a bitter chuckle. "And you let her sit on your lap." You pointed at the hickey on his neck. "You let her do that to you despite the fact that you have a girlfriend, who is in fact, standing right in front of you!" You would never lash out like this if it wasn't for the alcohol in your system. Hyejoo bullied you a lot in high school to the point where you had to change schools. San knew every little detail of what Hyejoo did, and you remembered how angry he was when you told him about it.

"Babe, calm down, please," San said softly.

"Calm down? You want me to calm down?! That fucking bitch was sitting on your fucking lap the entire time and she gave you a damn hickey! You didn't even stop her!"

"It was just a dare and—"

You scoffed. "And what about the kiss?"

"She kissed me. I didn't kiss back, I swear!"

"And you made no effort to push her off your damn lap even after that, right?"

San sighed; he really didn't want to fight with you right now. "I think you're overreacting, Y/N. Like I said, it was only a dare."

"Yeah, how about I go sit on another man's lap and suck his neck, hmm? I fucking bet you would love that," you chuckled bitterly. San clenched his jaw at your words; if that were to ever happen, he wouldn't hesitate to punch that guy.

"That's not going to happen," he placed his hands on your bare waist, pulling you against his body. "Let's not fight, okay?" he murmured, kissing your head.

You moved away from him, eyeing the hickey on his neck with disgust. "Fuck off, San," you mumbled. "I need a damn drink." Before San could could say anything, you made your way to the table of drinks beside the pool. You quickly downed three shots, eyes closing at the way the liquid burned your throat.

"Woah, woah, slow down there. You'll choke," you heard someone say from behind you.

"Who gives a fuck?" you muttered.

"Well, I certainly do, darling," Kangmin said, moving to stand in front of you. "You look really nice, even though you look like you could murder someone right now."

You glanced at San who returned back to where he was sitting before. Hyejoo started clinging to him, and he made no effort to do anything about it again. You rolled your eyes, not even surprised that your words went into San's ears and left just as fast. "Believe me, I want to," you said, feeling the alcohol starting to hit you harder.

"I don't know who pissed you off, but loosen up, yeah?" Kangmin said, pouring himself a drink. You noticed the tattoos all over his arms, one of them catching your eye. You grabbed his arm, trying to get a better look. "It's a... squirting dick?" you tried to control yourself from laughing.

"My friend's a tattoo artist and he tattooed it on me without telling me," he said with a chuckle.

"I want one too," you whined. "I want one now."

"What? A squirting dick?"

You lightly punched his bicep, swaying a little due to the effect of the alcohol in your system. "No, a good tattoo!"

"You're drunk right now, darling," he chuckled. "It's never a good idea to get a tattoo when you're drunk, trust me."

You pouted. "But I want a tattoo."

He placed his cup on the table and moved his hands to cup your cheeks. "I promise I'll take you to get a tattoo this week, okay? Now, let's go dance, hmm?" You nodded, letting him drag you inside to the dance floor.

San saw everything and his hands clenched into fists. He was so tempted to punch Kangmin and yell at him to stay away from you, but he couldn't risk his reputation like that; he didn't want anyone to know about your relationship no matter what. San went to where you were standing before, taking a tequila shot while he wondered what to do.

"Ji Kangmin and Y/N? Damn!" San overheard someone say.

"I didn't expect him to make a move on her," the other person said. "She's a goody two shoes and he's far from that."

"Kangmin likes women like that actually," the first person said. "And Y/N is very pretty. I'm not very surprised that he went for her."

"Hmm. They do look great together. He seems to like her a lot, no? I saw him walk her to her dorm last week." San's jaw clenched and he quickly made his way inside, searching for you. The dance floor was so crowded, he couldn't even get a glimpse of you anywhere. He tried calling you, but you didn't pick up. He tried calling Doyeon, but she didn't pick up as well.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, moving through tons of drunk, sweaty people, trying to find you.

After nearly fifteen minutes, he found you sitting alone on of the sofas, head resting on the armrest. "Y/N!"

"Kangmin...?" you lifted your head. "Oh, it's you."

"We're leaving," San said, grabbing your hand.

"No, f-fuck you," you hiccupped. "Go fuck off to Hyejoo." San ignored your words, taking his phone out to book a cab to his apartment. He helped you stand up and pulled you along with him. You wanted to protest, but your body was aching and you really just wanted to sleep.

You fell asleep on San's shoulder in the cab. He carried you bridal style and unlocked his door with the passcode, moving to his bedroom. He gently placed you on the bed and removed your boots. You opened your eyes due to the movement, feeling quite sick. "San..." you murmured. "I think I'm gonna throw up." San quickly lifted you up and took you to the bathroom, holding your hair back while you threw up in his toilet. He gently rubbed your back until you were done.

You brushed your teeth with the toothbrush you kept at San's place, and you took a quick hot shower, sobering a little. San gave you one of his t-shirts to wear and he dried your hair for you.

As soon as your head landed on the pillow, you fell asleep.

When you woke up, your head was pounding terribly. You slowly opened your eyes, immediately recognizing that you were in San's apartment; you couldn't remember much of what happened last night. You moved to his bathroom to take a painkiller and finish your morning routine. After you took a shower, you wore one of his black hoodies with one of your shorts that you usually kept at his place.

You felt a pair of muscly arms wrap around you. "You look so good in my clothes," San murmured, placing a kiss on your head. You turned around in his arms, titling your head back to look at him. You were about to wrap your arms around his neck, but your eyes landed on the hickey on his neck, reminding you of the events that happened last night, making you immediately pull yourself away from his embrace.

San frowned. "Babe—"

"San," you start. "Is your reputation that important that you can't even push another girl away when she's throwing herself at you? Especially when you know just how terrible that girl is?" you asked.

San took your hands in his. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have let—"

"But you still did," you argued. "Why don't you want to tell people about us, San? Is it because I'm not like you or your friends? Do you think I'm not attractive enough to be next to you?" He didn't say anything. "I feel like you're just using me," you continued, remembering the amount of times you've heard people say San only screws around. "Do you even love me?" The last question made San freeze. You had fallen in love with San months ago, but he didn't know and probably wouldn't have even noticed.

You waited for him to say something, but he only kept quiet, eyes fixated to the floor. "San, I think we should just," you gulped, eyes tearing up again. "We should b-break up. I really can't tolerate this anymore..." Your words felt like knifes were constantly slicing his heart. "Don't you have anything to say?" you asked, hoping he would fight for you or convince you that continuing this relationship is worth it. You wished he would change.

"How can I when you've already made up your mind?" San murmured, avoiding your eyes. "If you think breaking up is what's best then okay..." he wanted to say much more. He wanted to beg you to not leave him. He wanted to tell you just how much he loved you. But he couldn't. Even if he tried, he just couldn't.

"I'll collect my stuff from here tomorrow," you mumbled, putting your boots on. San could only nod as he watched you.

Before you could leave, San stopped you. "I... I just wanted to ask you... if you ever," he took a deep breath. "If you ever loved me."

You smiled sadly. "It doesn't matter," you whispered, but it was loud enough for him to hear you. "Take care, San," you mumbled before walking out the door, shattering his heart.

"You fucked up even more," Yeosang said, watching San smoke a cigarette.

"That's very helpful. Makes me feel great," San stated sarcastically, blowing the smoke to the air.

"No offense, Sannie, but I agree with Yeosang," Hongjoong said. "You should've told her how you felt instead of keeping quiet."

"I know," San sighed. "But she already made up her mind."

"Dude, you're really dense," Wooyoung stated. "She asked you if you had something to say. That translates to 'fight for me.' I don't think you've noticed, but Y/N is definitely in love with you."

San's head shot up. "She wouldn't have broken up with me if she really loved me, Woo."

Seonghwa groaned in frustration. "If I was in Y/N's place, I would dump your stupid ass too."

"Agreed," Yeosang said. "I told you before, San, your reputation is going to fuck up everything. You need to let go of your past as well before it's too late."

"Ji Kangmin's got his eyes on her," Mingi stated. "I heard his friends talking about it."

"Yeah, I heard that too. Y/N is close to him," Jongho added.

San rolled his eyes, taking a drag from the cigarette. "He has nothing else to do other than stealing the girls I like."

"Exactly, and you're letting him do it again," Yunho said, taking the cigarette away from San and crushing it with his shoes. "You have to make a decision Sannie. Either you sort things out with Y/N, or you lose the woman you love to that very bastard again."

---

"So you had the hots for Y/N, huh?" Kangmin asked San while he waited in line to order his drink.

"That's none of your business," San said in a cold tone to his ex-bestfriend.

"I saw you talking to her privately that day," he said, referring to the party you attended almost two weeks ago. San ignored his words. "I don't know what was going on between the two of you," Kangmin continued. "But whatever it was, I'm glad it didn't last long. I want to make her mine."

San scoffed. "You just want to get into her pants."

Kangmin snorted. "Obviously. But after spending two weeks with her, without you around, I'm quite interested. Y/N is gorgeous and has a great personality. She's a rare gem, you know? I bet she'd be just as wonderful in bed and tastes as sweet as she loo—"

San took a step towards Kangmin, grabbing the collar of his shirt. "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll break your damn face!" San warned.

"Ohhh, I'm so scared," he teased, pushing San away. "Fuck off, Choi San. Someone like Y/N doesn't deserve a bastard like you. You weren't and will never be good enough for her." San chose to ignore him, not wanting to cause a big scene at the café. Kangmin's words stabbed him in the heart. San always thought he wasn't good enough for you, but he never expected to hear anyone say it out loud.

Kangmin's phone started ringing and he couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. "Hey, gorgeous," he answered, loud and clear. "I'm at the café near your building, getting you your favorite drink and some cupcakes. I'll pick you up from class."

"That won't be necessary," you replied, pushing the door of the café to enter. You instantly spotted Kangmin and made your way towards him, unaware of San who was standing right behind him. "Hi!" you said to Kangmin who hung up once he saw you.

"Hey, beautiful! How was class?" he asked, secretly glancing at San; you still hadn't noticed San as your back was facing him.

"Ugh, tiring. I hate extra classes. I couldn't understand any—" your phone started ringing, interrupting your sentence. You answered the call as it was from your bestfriend.

"Where are you?" Doyeon asked.

"At the café near our dorm," you replied.

"Come over fast, we have to get ready for Hyewon's party. She wants us to come early cause she needs help."

"I'll be there in a bit."

"I didn't expect any of them to be here," you said to Doyeon while drinking some whiskey and coke from a red cup, watching your ex-boyfriend converse with his infamous group of friends; they usually went clubbing on Saturday nights. "Aren't you gonna go over to Yunho?"

"I don't wanna ditch you," she answered. You gently pushed her in Yunho's direction.

"Go, I'll be fine."

Before she could reply, Kangmin wrapped his arms around you, startling you a little. Doyeon gave you a wink before making her way towards her boyfriend, leaving you with Kangmin.

"Can we talk?" he whispered in your ear, making sure to move closer to your body once he noticed San watching. You nodded, letting him pull you upstairs. You had gotten quite close to Kangmin these last two weeks; you were really glad to have a friend like him. He distracted you from the pain you felt from not being with San anymore.

Kangmin gently pushed against the wall, trapping you between his arms. You gasped. "What are you doing?"

"I like you, Y/N," he confessed with a smile. "I wanna date you." Before you could say anything, he kissed you. You were a little too shocked, so you let him kiss you for a few seconds. When you regained your senses, you pushed him away. He stared at you, confused by your actions.

"Kangmin, I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same way..."

Kangmin rolled his eyes. "It's cause of Choi San, isn't it?"

"No," you lied. Of course it's cause of San. You were still in love with him. You didn't want to date anyone until you got over him. "I only see us as friends, Kangmin," you stated honestly. "You're a really good friend and I don't want to lose you."

Kangmin sighed. "Okay, let's just forget about this. Let's have a drink, hmm?" You nodded, following him downstairs to the kitchen.

You were talking to one of your friends while Kangmin got a drink for you.

"Thanks," you said, taking the cup from him. You took a sip of your drink. It tasted a little salty, but you didn't mind. You felt yourself relaxing a little while you nodded your head to the music. By the time you finished your drink, you felt pretty lightheaded. You clinged to Kangmin's arm. "Hey, could you take me to the couch?" you requested, words slurred. "I don't feel very good..."

"Of course," Kangmin lifted you into his arms, bridal style. He carried you upstairs into one of the rooms, shutting the door behind him with his foot. He placed you on the bed. "You don't know how long I've waited for this," he said, licking his lips while he took your crop-top off. You didn't know what was happening and your vision was really blurry. Kangmin pushed you onto your back before hovering above you. The sudden movement made your head spin even more, causing you to pass out. "Oh, too bad she couldn't stay conscious for this..." he murmured to himself. He ran his hands up from your jean-clad legs to the soft skin of your abdomen before reaching behind your body to unclasp your bra. Before he could pull the piece of clothing away from your body, the door swung open.

"You fucking bastard!" San yelled, pushing Kangmin off of you. Jongho and Hongjoong were right behind San.

"What the fuck, dude?!" Kangmin yelled. "Get out! Can't you see we're busy?!" His words pissed Jongho off. He immediately grabbed Kangmin by the collar and punched him twice in the nose. Kangmin fell to the floor, holding his broken, bloody nose in pain. Jongho wanted to punch him one more time, but Hongjoong held him back. "Don't. You'll end up killing him."

San started crying when he saw your passed out form; he couldn't even think about what would've happened if his friends didn't overhear Kangmin's friends talking about him spiking your drink. San clasped your bra back and put your crop-top on you before he lifted you into his arms. "I'm taking her to my apartment," he said to his friends.

"I'll drive you," Hongjoong offered.

When you woke up, you immediately recognized your surroundings. You had absolutely no idea of how you ended up in your ex-boyfriend's bedroom.

Your head was pounding and you wondered what time it was as it was really sunny outside. Before you could get off San's bed, he entered the room.

"You're awake," he said softly, relief clear in his eyes. "Take a shower and come eat. You must be really hungry."

"What happened? What's the time right now?" you questioned, your heart racing at the mere sight of him in a lilac hoodie and black sweatpants.

"I'll tell you after you eat," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's three in the afternoon. Doyeon got some clothes for you. There's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom."

"Thanks," you mumbled, getting up to go to the bathroom.

After you took a shower, you made your way to San's kitchen. You took a seat at the dining table, looking at all the different dishes on the table.

"You made all this?"

San shook his head. "I wasn't able to cook today. Wooyoung and Seonghwa made it. They left a few minutes ago." You noticed how tensed and sad he was; you wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but you knew he wouldn't answer your question until you ate.

You both ate in a comfortable silence. You tried to recall the events from last night, but you weren't able to. You frowned, wondering if you really drank that much.

"Are you all right, San?" you asked, settling on his couch after you both finished eating.

He took a deep breath and you noticed the slight dark circles beneath his eyes. "Can I hug y-you?" he asked, voice cracking while his eyes teared up.

You immediately scooted closer to him on the couch, wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck while he held you tightly. His body shook convulsively while he cried, his tears wetting your neck. You ran a hand through his soft hair, knowing it would help calm him down a little.

San pulled away from you, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his lilac hoodie. "I'm sorry..."

You grabbed his hand, intertwining it with yours. "What happened, Sannie?"

Hearing you call him by his nickname brought another set of fresh tears to his eyes. Your other hand reached up to wipe his tears away.

"I love you, Y/N," he confessed, more tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before. I'm so sorry for being a jerk to you and prioritizing my reputation. I fucked up and I regret it so much." You took a deep breath, trying to control your rapid heartbeat while you listened to every word he said. "I felt like dying after what happened last night. I'm so sorry, this is all my fault," he sobbed.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What happened last night?"

"O-Oh you don't remember...?" You shook your head. San cleared his throat, trying his best to not to break down again. "Wooyoung and Hongjoong overhead Ji Kangmin's friends say that he spiked your drink after you rejected him." you froze in shock. "They immediately told us about it, and me, Hongjoong, and Jongho rushed over to you. You weren't conscious when we found you. Your top was off and he was about to take your bra off as well, but I pushed him away. Then Jongho punched him. I brought you here after that."

You stared at San in disbelief. "Kangmin s-spiked my drink...?"

San nodded. "He had it all planned. I'm sorry, Y/N... none of this would've happened if he didn't see us together." You were too shocked to say anything; you couldn't believe Kangmin would go this low just cause you rejected him. "Ji Kangmin was my bestfriend in high school. After I got a girlfriend, he acted like a bitch to me cause he wanted her. I really loved her, and she cheated on me with him. He spread a lot of false shit about me after I ended our friendship. When I tried to move on with another girl, he took her away from me too. I didn't want other people to know about us only because he would find out. I didn't want him anywhere near you because I knew he would try to take you away from me. I didn't push Hyejoo away that day because he was watching me and would get suspicious of my actions if I pushed her away. I tried my best to do everything that would keep him away from you, but I still failed..."

You burst into tears, wrapping your arms around San; you had no idea he went through all this. "I'm sorry, San. I should've listened to you when you told me he wasn't a good person," you managed to say through sobs.

"No, Y/N, I'm the one who should say sorry for not telling you all of this before." He held you, gently rocking you back and forth while he cried with you. "Thank you for rejecting him..."

You pulled away, cupping his cheek. "How could I ever date someone else when I'm love with you, San?"

His heart raced in his chest due to your words. "That's why you rejected him?"

You nodded. "And I'm glad I did."

San smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. "Can I..." he hesitated "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, please."

San immediately captured your lips with his own, kissing you oh so gently. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He smiled, causing you to smile as well while you kissed him; you both missed this so much. The kiss was slow and soft, the two of you just wanting to savor this moment. Your hands played with his hair while his hands lazily ran down the expanse of your back. San pulled away, holding you tight against his chest.

"I know I hurt you a lot and I don't even deserve to speak to you right now... but I want to start over, Y/N," San said honestly. "I want to treat you the way you deserve... show you off to the world... I want to make things right between us. These two weeks were pure torture without you, and I realized that I can't... I can't live without you, Y/N. I really need you, baby."

You rested your head on his chest and you could hear his fast heartbeat. "I need some time, Sannie." you noticed him tense up a little and you knew exactly what he was thinking. "And no, this isn't me indirectly rejecting you or anything. I want to be with you, San. I always have and that isn't gonna change. I just need a little time, considering everything that happened." San nodded in understanding. "I promise that I will come back to you."

"I love you and I'll wait for you," San said, placing a kiss on your head.

"Thank you... I love you too, Sannie." He giggled, loving the way you say those three heart-fluttering words. He cupped your cheek to pull you into another sweet kiss, making your heart race again.

The two of you knew that no matter what, you both would always find your way back to each other.

786 notes · View notes

opalesense · 3 years

Text

you asked for it

kaeya & f!reader [NSFW]

4.2k words • ~30 min. read

summary: after a frustrating and touch starved week, kaeya catches you playing with yourself despite promising you wouldn’t while he was gone. needless to say, he is not happy.

warnings: sadist kaeya, lots of degradation, choking, bondage, spanking, belt whipping, facefucking

notes: i’m so embarrassed to post this because i’ve never written a full nsfw thing before hahahhddhdhd anyway i’m going to hell... also if you can spot canon voice lines i’ll give you a smooch

"I’M HOME, PRINCESS!"

Kaeya's alluring voice marked his distant presence outside the bedroom door. The sound of the front door closing behind him made me jump and snapped me out of my daydreaming state. I could hear him taking off his shoes and putting his bags down on the dining table, the sounds of his coat shuffling off his body and onto the coat rack making my thoughts race even faster.

He's home already? I thought he was coming home tomorrow!

"Our new recruits did so well in training that Jean let me off a day early. They don't need anything else from me for now," he said, as if he were reading the questions that bubbled in my head. "Can you believe it? I hardly ever get a break. I guess today is truly my lucky day."

Panic began to bubble in my stomach now as I heard his footsteps quickly advancing towards me, giving me no time to cover up the sticky situation I put myself in.

Literally, a sticky situation.

I had been spending the last half hour curing my loneliness in bed, using my hands to replace the pleasure I was missing so badly from Kaeya. His sudden return home made me curse under my breath. I was so close to a release too.

I quickly pulled my fingers away and sprung up from the bed, rushing to the dresser to find some clothes to throw on. But as soon as I pulled the nearest shirt over my head, the bedroom door creaked open, revealing the handsome figure standing and immediately pinning his eyes at me.

"Hi, Kaeya!" I turned and took a few steps towards him, immediately wrapping my arms around his torso and burying my head in his chest. He smelled like sweat and hard work. "Welcome home, sweetheart!"

"[Y/N]," Kaeya placed cold hands on my lower back to return the hug and gave me a sweet smile, "what were you doing just now, cutie?"

"I was just about to take a bath," I quickly lied and cupped his face with my dry hand to give him a peck on the cheek. "Care to join me?"

His expression suddenly changed from gentle and loving to unimpressed. He could see through my lie – I could tell. He was always so good at spotting my lies. His blank eyes pierced through mine, sending a shiver down my spine. Or maybe that was his hands slowly freezing up my skin with his vision, the annoyance easily seeping through his sharp stare.

"Are you sure, princess?" he reached to grab my other hand and lifted it up to his face, licking my wet fingers without breaking eye contact. He let out a deep growl at the taste, his eyes turning more dangerous by the second. Any hopes of me escaping this lie were completely gone now. "It doesn't seem like you were... 'just about to take a bath.'"

"Kaeya..." my body quivered at his strong grip on my hand, "Listen, I’m so sorry, I was just so lonely without you–"

His face inched closer to mine as he slowly walked both of us to the edge of the bed. "You couldn't wait for a week?" his sharp voice tickled my ears, "I specifically told you to wait for me, didn't I? You even promised me you would."

"Y-yes, I did promise," we stood at the foot of the bed, my naked hips desperately pressed into his. "I’m so sorry–"

"Yeah, you’re 'so sorry,'" he mocked me and rolled his eyes with a smirk. "You better be sorry, sweetheart. I missed you too, but at least I kept up my end of the promise and didn't touch myself while I was gone, unlike some slut I know," he hissed.

Suddenly, he wrapped his other hand around my neck and began applying pressure, pinning me down into the mattress. His clothed knee spread my legs open and pressed against my sensitive clit, driving more shivers up my spine and triggering a moan from my throat that only came out as a weak whimper. His face leaned down to mine to give me slow, gentle kisses. "My slut," he whispered between kisses, squeezing my throat harder, "I can’t believe I’m in love with a stupid disobedient bitch."

The insults only made my core light up with satisfaction. I closed my eyes and relaxed into his touch, forgetting about all the consequences I knew he would lay out for me in a few moments. I could tell he missed me just as much as I missed him with how gentle and loving his kisses were in contrast to his hand suffocating me. We kissed as if this was our last time ever seeing each other, as if the world was going to end in one minute. My heart thumped with excitement as the realization that he was finally back home began to settle in.

He released my poor throat and instead ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp and deepening the kiss. His lips began moving with a purpose, groans escaping and movements getting more and more desperate. "[Y/N]," he muttered into my own lips, "I missed you so much, princess. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this."

He slowly separated his face from mine and nuzzled his head into my neck, biting and suckling my already bruised skin from all the other love marks he had given me last week as a memento before he left. "I’m not going easy on you after this, sweetheart. Savor my mercy while it lasts."

I grew restless after a few minutes of him licking and nibbling at my neck and started to grind my hips on his knee, wanting some kind of advancement in this hazy evening. He took notice of this and paused his kisses, lifting his eyes to meet mine. I pleaded for more action with a pout, to which he replied by removing his knee and instead tucking his thighs below mine with my legs pinned at his sides. I let out a shaky exhale at the realization that his bulge was mere inches away from my holes.

"What's the hurry, princess?" he leaned down to run his hands up my sides, dragging my loosely fitted shirt along with him. "Is there something you're waiting for?"

He pulled the shirt up enough to expose my anticipating breasts, perked with excitement at his chilled fingers. I gasped at the bite of the cold air he was manifesting. "Kaeya, please..."

“Please what?" he traced a finger on the underside of my breasts and planted more kisses across my collarbone, "Use your words, baby.”

"Stop teasing me, please," I begged with shame, "You know I want you... I need you inside of me..."

He hummed as if he were processing my answer. Instead of using his own words, he responded by completely pulling the shirt off of me and twisting it into a long strip. He grabbed both of my hands and pinned them above my head, purposefully pressing his bulge against my aching hole. He hesitated to look down at me, his eyes becoming consumed with pure lust.

"Final warning, [Y/N]. Do you want to do this now?" Any remaining gentleness seemed to slowly spill out of his voice as he made it apparent he was asking for my consent. My core lit up once more knowing we were just getting started.

I trembled with a mixture of excitement and fear, not knowing what he had under his sleeve tonight after the touch deprived days that broke our usually consistent sex streak. We were two lovers in desperate need of pleasure. "I need to be fucked senseless," my voice shakily begged, "I need to be covered in your cum by sunrise, sir."

He raised his eyebrows at the vulgar language that spewed out of my mouth, knowing how uncharacteristic it was for me to beg before we've begun. Judging by the evil smirk that formed on his face, those two simple sentences were enough to send him over the edge and into complete darkness. An evil chuckle escaped his lips. The glint in his eyes that was once loving and sweet became borderline malicious within seconds.

"Safeword?" he breathily muttered with a grin.

"Diluc," I sarcastically sneered at him, knowing how much he hated when I used his brother's name as a safeword, even if it was just a joke. His hand quickly struck me across the face, catching me by surprise. The sting made my eyes swell with small tears.

"Fucking brat, always messing around with me," he chuckled. "But you know, I could always arrange something for the three of us–"

"Kaeya!" I interrupted him and he laughed at my flustered face. We had been joking about a threesome for quite some time now. At least... I was joking about it. Maybe he seriously meant it.

He guided his hands to make me sit up then pinned my arms behind my back. "It’s just a suggestion," he grinned at the thought while tying my wrists together with my own shirt. "Oh, to see my little princess squirm with both her holes pounded crying with pleasure and pain... That would be quite the sight indeed, don't you think?"

“Please shut up,” I giggled, bucking my hips into his for an ounce of stimulation. He tightened the fabric around my wrists and tugged at it a few times to make sure it stayed in place. He gently laid me down again, enjoying the sight of my naked body fully exposed to him.

"Now for the fun part," he smiled.

He sat up to take his own shirt off and set it aside. My eyes widened at the sight of his toned torso, my mouth practically drooling as my gaze traced his muscular abdomen. His delectable skin glistened in the light of the fading sunset and I couldn't help but stare at his beautiful body. To my dismay, my staring was interrupted by his shirt being placed over my eyes as he blindfolded me, pausing the fantasies in my head that came with that delicious sight.

I felt Kaeya’s hands turn my vulnerable body so my chest pressed against the bed, my back arching to greet his face with my holes. He snickered at the sight of me being drenched as a result of him teasing me for the past ten or so minutes with kisses and cold fingers. All I could feel was his chilled breath tormenting my wetness and a hand caressing my inner thigh. "Seems like you're so eager to be touched despite ruining yourself with your own fingers.”

"Y-yes," I whimpered as one finger outlined my entrance, making me gasp. "More..."

He suddenly slapped my ass with his other hand, earning a yelp from my throat. "I’ll think about it after I punish you, cunt. Don't think I have forgotten about that."

He got off the bed to stand up and pulled my body closer to the edge of the mattress. "Now, count to fifty."

I hesitated. "Fifty? What do you mean–"

"Do I seriously need to repeat myself for your dumb whore brain?" he responded slowly and sternly as if he were spelling it out for me. "Count to fifty now before I leave you here and drink at the tavern tonight instead. You wouldn’t want to waste an opportunity to get fucked stupid by my fat cock tonight, would you?"

I paused again thinking about why he'd want me to count in this situation before shyly starting. "One–"

SLAP!

"Fuck!" I instinctively buried my face into the sheets as his hand stung my ass. That hurt way more than it should. That's why he wants me to count?

"If I hear anything out of that mouth other than numbers I will not hesitate to leave you here. No cursing, no gasping, no moaning. Do you understand? Now pull yourself together and count. Start from one again."

I quivered at the thought of him leaving me here after already being separated for a week. I suppose the pain I’ll soon endure is my punishment, after all. So with no hesitation, I obeyed what he told me to do.

"One..."

SLAP!

“T-two...!"

SLAP!

It hurt so bad and it had barely begun. “Three..."

SLAP!

“Pick up the pace, my little painslut. You can handle it."

"Four..."

SLAP!

“Five..."

SLAP!

"You're doing so well, princess."

Soon enough, we were nearing the end. I truly underestimated Kaeya's strength with each smack. Sometimes I forget that he's a Knight of Favonius, that he has a vision, and that he trains nearly every day to maintain his strength. His blows were hellish now in comparison to the first few counts, which were extremely gentle in hindsight. And he never hesitated with each slap, as if he wanted to do this to me for a long time.

“Forty eight..." I was a teary eyed mess at this point, trembling at the pain that stung like a million needles.

SLAP!

“Forty nine..." I whimpered, thinking about how i got myself into this situation, never being punished by him like this before.

SLAP!

“F-Fifty!"

SLAP!

I sobbed at the aching pain while he simply chuckled. He sat next to me and sighed contently. "How do you feel, princess?"

"P-please stop... no more..." I muttered incoherently as the pain didn't seem to fizz away.

"You have a safeword you know. But it would be a shame to stop now when we’ve only just begun," he caressed my bruised skin with care, making me flinch instinctively. I gulped.

No. I'm not going to stop here.

"Tell me how you feel, my love. Don't be shy."

I paused, struggling to come up with the right words when all my brain could focus on was the excruciating soreness. "I-it hurts s-so much..."

"I know, baby. But that's what you get for disobeying me. You’ve learned your lesson, I hope?"

"Yes, I-I've learned my lesson, sir," I breathily cried, "I w-won't ever do it again..."

Suddenly I felt his thumb caress my wetness, eliciting a gasp from my throat. "Oh? But it seems like you actually really enjoyed that," he played with my aching folds as I stifled my moans, not sure if I was allowed to make noise. "Well, princess... that's not what a punishment is for, don't you think?"

He pulled away his hand as he stood up which made me whine at the loss of touch. I heard him undo his belt, but once it was off, I didn't hear him unzip his pants like I had hoped for. Instead, I felt a leather strip gently trail down my thigh.

"Your skin isn't that pretty shade of purple I was hoping for either. In fact, if I had to take a guess, I would say it's red from pleasure instead of pain."

"Wait, Kaeya! No, please, it really does hurt...!" I weakly muttered as the realization settled in when he gently tapped my skin with the looped leather.

"I don't think you realize how long I've waited for a moment like this, baby," his gravely whisper struck a genuine fear into my stomach, "A moment when you'd slip up so I'd have an excuse to make you quiver in pain. You've been such a good girl for so long that I've never had a moment where I can make you beg for my forgiveness. Which, as a matter of fact, there hasn't been a single moment so far where you've begged. I assume you haven't actually learned your lesson yet."

He brought his hand up to prepare for a blow. "I'm going to brand you. I'm going to make your skin raw until I feel tired. And I can last all night and all day, baby. You know that."

He whipped the belt down to meet my thigh, creating a new kind of pain that made me cry out in desperation. This was a new side of Kaeya that I have never seen before. A new darkness had consumed him so suddenly that I sat on the fence of being terrified and being turned on at the same time.

And this was still only the beginning.

"Convince me to forgive you or bleed. Your choice."

He immediately whipped me at a quick, consistent rhythm, paying more attention to my thighs in addition to my already bruised ass. At times the belt would land on my holes, which made me twitch with excitement and agony at the same time. This isn’t like him. Why is he doing this to me?

"K-Kaeya, please stop!" I moaned out after a few hits, "P-please stop, I'm begging you!"

“Try again, slut."

More hits landed with sharp hisses sizzling off of my skin. "K-Kaeya, I'm so sorry! P-please forgive me–"

“I don't even know what you're apologizing for," he interrupted with that damned teasing tone of his, "Could you remind me again?"

The blows got stronger, more urgent and unforgiving, hitting any inch of exposed skin even if it was already raw. "I-I'm so sorry for disobeying you... I'm sorry for t-touching myself without your permission...! P-please stop, I just want you inside of me–"

He paused the hits to emphasize his words, which were muttered through gritted teeth. "I don't give a single fuck about what you want, whore. You’re just a toy for my amusement and somehow you still managed to fuck up."

He quickly resumed the stings. "I'll be a g-good girl from now on! P-please... Please just forgive me! K-Kaeya!" my voice slowly raised in volume in cries for the pain to stop.

"Dumb whore. It’s funny that you think I believe you."

“Y-yes, I’m a dumb whore!" I scrambled for words and just copied his. There was no use in begging anymore. A part of me hoped I would be beat to unconsciousness under him just to relieve myself of this pain momentarily.

He let out a groan and a low maniacal laughter, "Seeing your veins under my belt makes my cock twitch, princess. I'm not sure if I want to stop, even if you kept asking me to."

I couldn't take it anymore. The pain hurt so bad but as fucked up as it was, I was still so unbelievably aroused by him. The thought of him getting so aroused by me pulled out some kind of satisfaction within, despite the borderline torture I was experiencing. Maybe he was so comfortable with hitting me because he saw my body as just another criminal to interrogate and punish. Maybe he was releasing pent up frustration on me. Why is all of this so arousing?

I felt my core light up as my thighs squeezed together. For a moment, I forgot about the pain and a wave of pleasure washed over my body, sending twitches through the nerves in my legs. "K-Kaeya, actually p-please stop, I think I'm gonna c-cum...!"

He disappointedly cursed under his breath and let me feel one last blow for good measure before letting go of his grip on the belt and tossing it onto the bed. “Fine. That’s enough for now.”

He climbed over my curled up body so his bulge pressed against my tied hands near my tailbone, my head trapped between his hands on the mattress. He stayed hovering over me, slowly panting.

"I don't have enough words to describe how much you're turning me on right now," Kaeya began to slowly whisper. I could feel how hard he was by how he nestled himself into my tied hands. "Your body shaking under mine, shaking in pain and pleasure... And to think you were going to cum by my belt alone... You really are a slut, [Y/N]."

"K-Kaeya, I'm your slut... and I need your cock in me now," I weakly interrupted him, "I n-need to be fucked... right now, please, I'm begging you..."

He stayed there for a moment, taking in the sight of my helplessness before standing up at the edge of the bed again. He guided my shaking torso up to finally flip me on my back, pulling me closer so my head hung over the edge. My lower half felt so relieved to finally make contact with the soft sheets, which were slightly damp from sweat and possibly my own wetness. I felt him wrap the belt around my neck, letting the loop gently tighten around my throat as he tugged. I couldn't help but be reminded that he could kill me here if he really wanted to. I was completely surrendered to him.

I heard him finally take off his pants with the other leg, the scent of his sweaty skin tickling my nose. I have never longed to get this stupid blindfold off and lay my eyes on his figure already. It had been so long since we’ve seen each other and now that he’s here I couldn’t even fully appreciate the sight of him. Nevertheless, I felt the shadow of his cock drape over my face and let out an exhale before he tugged the belt to catch my attention.

“Don't make me tell you what to do."

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out eagerly which earned a chuckle from him. He slowly pressed the tip of his cock into my awaiting throat, groaning loudly in the process. he was surprisingly gentle about making sure I wouldn't choke immediately. "F-fuck yes, [Y/N]... taking all of it in like a good slut..."

As soon as his long member hit the back of my throat, he tugged the belt tightly and groaned deeper. My throat spasmed at the suffocating sensation which he responded to by pulling tighter. I tried my best to relax. "Behave," he reminded me.

He began fucking my throat with no mercy, gradually quickening his pace but never pulling out or pausing to let me catch my breath. He had trained my throat over the past few months for this, but the belt added a whole other level of difficulty and torment. The muscles of my throat tightening around him more than usual made him breathlessly curse and praise me. "Such a good slut... My whore is doing so well taking my big cock...”

He eventually let go of the belt to place both of his hands on either side of my face and fuck my mouth senselessly, ignoring my sputtering and cries for help at the suffocation. It felt like I was drowning, but all I could think about was how good it felt to pleasure him, to hear his grunts and sighs of relief. His praises were consistent, a stark contrast to the way he degraded and pummeled me into the ground like a prisoner. Before I nearly passed out at the cut off oxygen, all his pent up frustration over the past week suddenly flooded my throat as his warm fluid was dumped into my mouth, deep groans and heavy breaths filling up the room. His breath stuttered as I swallowed each pump of cum he fed me with hazy eyes, somehow enjoying this moment despite suffocating as he used his thumb to caress my face. Kaeya placed a hand on the bed and pulled his hips away from my hanging head, leaning over my body and keeping only the tip of his cock inside my mouth. I coughed and sputtered for a moment before pulling myself together to swirl my tongue over his tip, inciting a few twitches and extra drops of cum as a reward. Tears and saliva painted my face, but at last, I finally caught a moment to breathe.

"Keep licking and I might immediately cum again," Kaeya chuckled, cooling down from the heat of the moment.

"I wouldn't complain," I playfully responded, letting out small coughs to clear my throat.

"I suppose that's enough punishment for today," he gently lifted my head back up on the bed to provide better airflow. He untied the blindfold off of my face so I could finally see him again.

"Hi, handsome," I grinned, saliva dripping down my cheeks and into my hair. He ran his fingers through my hair and began massaging my scalp.

"God... you are so inexplicably beautiful right now," he whispered desperately. He began slowly stroking his cock in front of my face and deepened the massage, a proud yet cunning grin stretching across his face. "But you'd look even more beautiful with my cum dripping out of your cunt, don’t you agree?"

I moaned out his name and slowly lifted my knees up to my chest, teasingly using my hands to pull my thighs apart as an invitation. My eyes stayed locked with his. "Punishment's over, right?"

He silently agreed, releasing his cock from his grip and taking another moment to catch his breath. I watched him with pure lust in my eyes as he positioned himself at the crevice of the pillows in front of me then pulled my body forward to sit in his lap. His sensitive cock twitched as the tip of his shaft kissed my dripping hole, aching to rearrange my insides. He used one hand to pull himself down and shower my shoulder with bites and kisses, the other hand reaching down to massage my wet cunt, preparing for the night ahead.

"My beautiful, stunning slut..." he growled into my ear between kisses, "I can't wait to see you completely destroyed by sunrise. You asked for it, after all."

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #genshin impact x reader

1K notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Move This Along

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After months of waiting, Spencer decides he finally wants to have sex with Reader. Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, sex (oral sex- female receiving, virgin!Spence, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie) Word Count: 5.6k

Full Request: “...so a smutty oneshot with like virgin!spencer but im talkling like baby spence. and hes super blushy and cute but then when it happens its rlly raunchy and therws a lot of dirty talk. and like reader doesnt work at the bau but theyre close friends. and like she goes out to a bar with him and the team and they tease him so then she takes him home and literally fucks him after a movie or smth idk...” — @mggscumrag

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to do this, but once I did, it came out so quickly! I hope it’s to your liking 🥰

***

The first time she went out to meet Elle's friends from work, Y/N found herself absolutely nervous, and she wasn't sure why. She was always great with meeting new people, but for some reason, the prospect of meeting her next-door neighbor's co-workers seemed to really do a number on her.

She remembers how anxious she'd been, constantly worrying that they wouldn't like her, not to mention they were all probably super smart and strong and intimidating, just like Elle. Anyone who aided in putting away serial killers, rapists, and other monsters had to be just about the most intimidating personality there ever was.

But as Y/N soon learned, that wasn't quite the case at all.

To be fair, they were all intimidating in their own little ways, though it was really easy to forget about that when she was laughing with them, sharing drinks and stories, and exchanging phone numbers to stay in touch.

That's how she and Spencer had come to be good friends. Despite how obviously shy he was whenever they saw each other, the two of them managed to have conversations on just about everything. It usually happened that he talked and she listened to whatever he was teaching her, but she'd always add on the occasional, "Wow, I didn't know that," or "That's really fascinating." All of which she could tell he was surprised at and appreciated.

And since the first time they met at Elle's birthday party, the night she met the whole team for the first time, they'd been practically inseparable. While Y/N was good friends with the whole team, save for Gideon, who always seemed to like it better by himself, her relationship with Spencer seemed to even surpass the bond she'd built with her neighbor-slash-best friend.

Elle even told her as much one Saturday night, as the two of them were driving to the bar to meet up with everyone for a few drinks.

She'd mentioned it as a joke, but Y/N was instantly apologetic.

Elle only laughed. "Don't apologize. Actually, I think it's good that Reid has another friend outside of work. You're good for him. And you know, I think he has a little crush on you."

Warmth rushed to Y/N's cheeks, and she tried to hide it but failed miserably, causing Elle to give her a knowing smile. "Y—You don't know what you're talking about, Elle, it's not like that."

"Oh come on, it totally is. You give him the light of day when no one else does, he talks about you all the time, and everyone at work knows it."

She paused. "They... do?"

"Of course they do, we're all profilers, but it doesn't take one to see how obsessed that boy is with you. I think you should go for it."

Y/N would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about asking him out. But in the end she had always figured it was a little weird, being that she was friends with all his and Elle's co-workers and she'd kinda been adopted into their family of sorts. But hearing what her neighbor was saying... She started to think differently about it.

"You really think so?"

Elle nodded. "Absolutely."'

"Okay," she replied with an excited smile. "Maybe I will, then."

A week later and the two of them started dating. Y/N always thinks back to the first few weeks of their relationship, how adorably shy and blush-prone Spencer was, even after they'd been together for some time. They spent almost all their free time together, and it still seemed like he was nervous to be around her. He'd assured her on multiple occasions that that wasn't the case, but Y/N still wondered why he hadn't fully warmed up to being around her.

Especially in public. Oh, in public it was worse. Y/N clung to his arm, and his face immediately got red. What confused her the most, though, was that every time she pulled away to make him more comfortable, he pulled her back in, seemingly desperate to feel her warmth.

In the end she and Spencer had grown to develop their own little communication system for public settings, something to let the other know when something was really wrong, and when to ask if the other was comfortable.

One night everyone was meeting after a rough case somewhere in Denver, and Y/N offered to buy everyone drinks once Spencer had called to tell her they were all back. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to do that, but it had been a while, so everyone was quick to except. Well, mostly everyone— Gideon as per usual went his separate way, and Hotch was eager to get home and see his family.

Y/N was waiting for them at their favorite bar downtown when she heard a loud squeal that sounded a lot like her name. Sure enough, it was easy to spot a very yellow-clad Penelope Garcia headed straight towards her with her arms stretched out for a hug when she turned around. The smile she adorned was instantaneous as her arms came out a well, embracing Penelope with a large hug that almost knocked the wind out of her.

"I missed you!" she exclaimed, still hugging Y/N and swaying them back and forth a little. "I mean, I know I don't ever travel with the team, but because of that we should hang out more."

"Next time I need some company, I know who to call."

Y/N spotted Spencer then, behind Penelope and patiently waiting for a greeting. She smiled at him and whispered, "Hi," to which Penelope must have heard.

She quickly released her from their embrace and stepped out of the way. "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from your boy wonder."

She laughed as she transferred from Penelope's arms to Spencer's. He muttered a little, "Hi," into her hair as she squeezed him and shoved her face into his neck. If she had to bet, he was probably red as a tomato right now with how close her mouth was to his neck—it was his weakness and she knew it. And just to tease him a little bit she quickly kissed up his neck, his jaw, and placed a decent peck on his lips before pulling away and grabbing his hand.

Despite the shy smile and the blush adorning his cheeks, he squeezed her hand tight and kept her at his side like they would die if they weren't touching at all times.

Everyone gave little greetings to Y/N as they all made their way to a large booth near the back. Y/N was sitting on one side with Elle to her right and Spencer to her left, while Derek, Penelope, and JJ sat across from them. Y/N got them all their preferred drinks, and a beer for herself, which Spencer couldn't help but find oddly attractive.

He glanced over at her as she took swigs from the bottle as the night progressed, and for whatever reason the sight made his insides all warm and tingly. And when she used her unoccupied hand to grab his under the table, rubbing gentle circles over the inside of his palm with her thumb, he'd never felt more in love with another person. He wasn't even drinking any alcohol, yet his head swam and his heart soared all the same, every bone in his body humming with euphoria at just the mere thought of her.

He must have been staring a little too obviously, because Derek kicked his leg under the table, pulling him from the lovesick daydream he never wanted to leave.

"I can't tell if those are cute ol' puppy dog eyes or bedroom eyes," Derek laughed, and everyone laughed right alongside him.

"Oh, stop it," Penelope said, swatting his arm. "He's obviously just very in love with her, what more could you need to know?"

"Oh, come on, tell me you're not curious to know how they... operate."

She smacked him harder this time, and everyone laughed.

Knowing her boyfriend didn't really care for the spotlight, especially when it came to their relationship, Y/N squeezed Spencer's hand under the table in reassurance. She drew a question mark in his palm, their signal for, "Are you uncomfortable?" And he responded by drawing an "X" in her palm, their answer for, "No." She laced their fingers together then, and set her beer down.

"Morgan, our sex life isn't any of your business," she stated simply.

Spencer felt his stomach churn at the sentence, if only because said sex life was, as of late, non-existent.

He and Y/N had made out a lot, sure, but the one time they did try having sex, he made it about ten seconds being inside of her before he finished, and since then he'd been kind of embarrassed about it. They only ever made out since then, because before it ever got that far he stopped it, nervous that he'd disappoint her.

And now his non-existent sex life was the topic of conversation, and if anyone picked up on it, he would have felt worse about the whole thing.

So, he didn't stop himself from speaking. "But if you must know, it's great."

Y/N's hand tensed up in his, and she looked over at him, shock marinating in her eyes. To anyone else it would have looked like she was surprised he'd even bring it up, but he knew she was most likely more curious to know why he'd lied about it.

Their friends laughed regardless, Elle adding a curious and joking, "Care to elaborate?"

Ready to change the subject, Spencer shook his head. "Nope."

"Yeah, actually I think we're gonna head out early," Y/N added. Spencer was suddenly worried he'd made her upset, but she rubbed gentle circles into his hand that reassured him everything was okay.

He got out of the booth and Y/N followed, as their friends grumbled.

"Oh, come on, we didn't mean to embarrass you guys," Derek said.

"No, that's not it," Y/N said as she threw on a light jacket. "You just reminded me how much I'd like to operate with my boyfriend since I haven't seen him in a few days, so we're leaving. Have a good night."

Spencer felt searing heat rise to his cheeks as he turned around and ushered Y/N out the door, accompanied by low whistles and claps from their friends.

***

The two of them were sitting on the couch now, Y/N having just set down a couple classes of water.

"Sorry if you wanted to stay," she said quietly, playing with her thumbs. "You know we don't... actually have to operate if you don't want, obviously, I was just looking for something to say..."

"Oh, Y/N, I know. Don't worry about it. Really, I... I was the one who even brought it up, I should have just let you handle it."

She looked up at him with a small smile. "Why.. did you bring it up anyway?"

"Well, I... I guess I just felt embarrassed. And I know what we do together isn't any of their business, but I was just... I really was thinking about how much I love you, and when Morgan brought it up, I felt like I wasn't... living up? To your expectations? I don't..." He sighed, unsure how to properly articulate how he was feeling. "I don't know. I just thought about the last time we tried having sex, and I felt embarrassed about it, that's all."

"Oh, honey," Y/N cooed, scooting closer to him and bringing her hand up to brush some of the hair from his face. "You know, you... don't have anything to prove, right? I know how much you love me, and you don't need to be having sex with me to show me, I hope you know that."

Still, he couldn't bring himself to look at her face. "I do," he choked out, pulling at the hem of his shirt. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Y/N's tongue clicked, and she leaned into him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck and placing the other across his lap. She held him tight and kissed the side of his head. "Don't you ever be sorry, unless you cheat on me. Then there will be something to be sorry about."

He laughed at her joke, turning his head to brush his nose against hers. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, giving him the lightest of kisses on the lips.

When she pulled away, he leaned in again, kissing her a little harder, and she gladly reciprocated. With every passing second, all of his worries started to melt away like the snow to her sunshine. Within every kiss was an emanation of outpouring love and comfort that warmed his soul and gave him the confidence to try something bold.

His hands threaded through her hair as he drew her in closer, and instinctively, she climbed over his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders as he gently probed her mouth with his tongue. The sound of her sigh as she opened up to him and allowed him to fully explore her mouth with his made his stomach bubble and tense.

This would be about the time where he'd stop, telling Y/N that they should slow down, and she'd sweetly oblige and stay cuddled into his side as they drifted off to sleep.

But tonight he didn't want that.

Tonight he wanted more.

While one of his hands remained in her hair, gently massaging her scalp, the other snaked down to her lower back. He gently slid his fingers under the fabric of her shirt and pressed his palm flat against her, pulling her closer to him with a desperation that both shocked and excited her.

Deciding to test the waters, Y/N rolled her hips, feeling him jump slightly underneath her, followed by a whine that vibrated her mouth and sent a low hum of pressure through her stomach.

Still, she pulled away.

Well... She tried to.

When she pulled her face away from him, Spencer used the hand in her hair to bring her back, tilting his head in the other direction and continuing to kiss her with enough passion for the both of them. And it didn't help that the sound she made when he did it spurred him on. She whimpered loudly into his mouth, and the hand on her back involuntarily slid down to grab her ass.

"Hey," she managed to get out when he pulled away momentarily for air. "Hey, you don't... We don't have to really do this if you don't want. I—I don't want you to think that what happened earlier means we have to have sex."

"Y/N..." His hand gently kneaded her ass, and against her better judgement, she rolled her hips again, sighing out against his lips. "I don't want to put it off any longer... Really, I... I want to. I want to show you how much I love you."

She kissed him softly again, bringing both of her hands up to cradle his face. "You already do. Every day."

She was giving him an out, and Spencer appreciated it. But with the way his insides were practically melting away at her presence, he knew more than anything that this was what he wanted.

"I know," he said. "But if you don't mind, today I'd like to show you a little extra." And then he kissed her deeply again.

Her hands tightened on his face, right before they slid up and through his hair. She gently tugged at it, and he let out one of the most delicious sounds she'd ever heard. For future reference, she relished in that sound, in that feeling, and made a mental note to try it out some more when they got further along in their sexual path.

But tonight, she would let him call the shots. He was finally ready to try it again, and seeing how confident he grew in his touches and kisses when she submitted to him, it was the simplest decision.

So she remained on his lap until he made another move, encouraging him with whimpers and languid rolls of her hips against his. Her hands grew frenzied in his hair when he dipped his hand past the waistband of her jeans and underwear, sticking his fingers in only about a knuckle deep. The warmth of his hands against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine, which she let show by involuntarily grinding down on his lap.

Spencer groaned deeply more than whined this time, his grip on her hands gripping tighter to her backside. He forced himself to remove his mouth from hers long enough to breathe out, "Bedroom. Please."

As much as Y/N didn't want to get off of his lap, she knew that what waited for her in the bedroom would be worth the momentary loss of complete physical contact. So she peeled herself away from her boyfriend, grabbing him by the hand, and lead him to her bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he was on her again, caging her face between his large hands and capturing her lips in another heated kiss. They moved backwards until she hit her back against the door, and the second their movement stopped, Spencer used their standing position to press his full body weight into her, their legs tangling together.

Meanwhile, Y/N was trying to figure out where to put her hands. She wanted to brace them on his chest, but it was pressed tightly against hers. So they wandered over his back, but she couldn't decide whether to place them under his shirt or on his butt. Or maybe she wanted to grip his arms to feel the veins as they strained against his skin from holding her face. The possibilities were quite endless.

So endless that they were even surprising—Spencer noticed her wandering hands and promptly decided to place them where he wanted, which was apparently above her head. He removed his hands from her face and pinned her wrists to the door above her head, and she huffed a breath as he pulled away to speak.

"Is this okay? I wasn't too... too rough?"

The concern swimming in his lust-filled eyes drew a little whimper from her throat as she struggled to find the right words. But finally, she settled on, "That was so fucking hot..."

Relief flashed over his gaze right before he grinned. His fingers flexed against her wrists, and even though she couldn't see them, she could imagine how it looked. And it really was fucking hot.

Seeing the expression on her face, Spencer leaned forward again and kissed her one last time. Their lips moved together hungrily, dancing in perfect synchronization, the music being the frantic beating of their hearts.

And then he started to trail his kisses down her jaw and neck, keeping her hands firmly pinned to the door. Usually she was the one to explore his neck with her tongue and teeth, but this time he wanted to try it for himself. Mirroring what he'd felt her do to him hundreds of times over, he soaked in every single sound she made, from the little whimpers of pleasure to the soft, choked whispers of his name dancing over her lips. And when her hips canted forward, searching for any kind of friction, he decided to grant it to her.

As his kisses moved down along her collarbone, his hands gently slid down with him, over her arms and then down to the bottom of her shirt as he kneeled in front of her. He lifted the shirt slowly, each new inch of exposed skin being met with soft kisses until it reached her breasts. He reached up to palm them over her bra while he trailed his kisses downward again.

Even though she was wearing jeans, he pressed kisses to her legs anyway. She squirmed under his touch, and the feeling made his heart soar.

"Please, Spence," she huffed, bringing her hands down to lay overtop of his. She felt the tendons and veins in his hands as they squeezed her, and with everything she had, she tried not to beg him to use them in more interesting places. She wanted to let him take his time, to be a vessel for his exploration, but it was growing harder every second to be patient.

Thankfully he seemed to get what she was feeling, because his hands slid out from under her shirt and rested at her jeans. "Can I take these off?"

The fact that he even asked when she so clearly begged him to do it made her heart swell. "Please do," she chuckled, though it turned into a choked sigh when his fingers actually started undoing the button. And at the sound of her zipper going down, she could have come undone right there.

He pulled her jeans down slowly and helped her step out of them. And she thought maybe he'd take the next step and do the same with her underwear, but he opted to use his mouth instead.

With gentle kisses, he traced the hem of the fabric all the way to either side of her waist. And then he looked up at her with curious eyes and shifted his face, pressing his nose right up against where her clit would be. Her hands immediately went to his hair, but he grabbed her wrists again and laid them at her sides. "Do you want me to move this along?" His voice wasn't teasing as much as it was genuine curiosity.

Still, Y/N resisted the urge to tell him yes. "I—I want you to do whatever feels right. Tonight's... about you. What you want."

"Well, what I want is to make you feel good. So, again... Do you want me to move this along?"

Every time his lips moved, they brushed up against where she desperately wanted him. And it was killing her. So, she nodded vigorously. "Yes, please," she whispered.

And with that, Spencer released her hands and used his fingers to gently rub her over the fabric. The contact made her shiver visibly, and he took that as a good sign. So he wasted no more time and replaced his fingers with his tongue, fluttering his eyes closed at the taste of her. And he knew that once the thin fabric was gone it would be stronger, but even then he was thoroughly wrecked.

He kept lapping his tongue over her, feeling her panties get wetter with ever second, and he only finally removed them when she started grinding her hips closer to his face, desperate for more.

When he did finally bring his tongue to fully taste her for the first time, they both let out the filthiest sounds, months and months of build-up starting to come to a head. He tasted her like he would an ice cream cone, and for the first few moments his eyes remained closed, all his focus on this brand new sensation. But he wanted nothing more than to see her react to him. So he opened his eyes and continued his ministrations, pupils blowing wide at the sight of her above him.

She was panting, her mouth hung open and her tongue just barely peeking out over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained shut, though Spencer could tell she was struggling to open them. With a tentative flick of his tongue over her clit, he took notice of the little gasp she made, and he knew he'd found it. So he repeated his action, providing small kitten licks to her clit as she picked up her breathing and clenched her hands at her sides.

He picked up the pace then, taking note of every little thing that made her cry out or jump with pleasure until she was clutching his hair. He was sucking on her clit now, his middle finger gently sliding in and out of her when she spoke.

"Oh, fuck, keep doing that. I'm... I'm almost..."

He felt her tighten around his finger as she started careening off the edge, and he did his best to keep his eyes on her face, because it had practically been haunting him, wondering what it would be like to see her come undone at his mercy.

To say it was better than he could have ever dreamed was a severe understatement.

Y/N's head leaned back against the door, her chin jutted out so he could see the beautiful contours of her chin and neck. He saw her throat contract as she moaned out his name, saw her chest heave as she struggled to catch her breath, and best of all, he felt her flutter around his finger and mouth. And if that was high inducing, he couldn't wait to feel wat it would be like to replace them with something else.

The mere thought had him trembling.

He pulled back when she huffed out an over-stimulated, "Okay, please, please stop, oh..."

Though it could just as easily have been a painful sentiment, the hungry, dazed look in her eye suggested otherwise.

Spencer stood up and brought his finger to his mouth, still caught up in her taste before she ripped his wrist away and kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair and moaning into his mouth.

Before he could get lost in it, though, she pulled away and nodded. "Okay. I think you're wearing too many clothes."

He tilted his head down in a little flush, and with the help of Y/N, his shirt peeled away from his body and joined her pants and underwear on the floor.

Y/N mirrored his actions, kissing gently down his jaw, neck, and then down his torso. Her hands wandered his bare back as she sunk to her knees. But when her hands moved to his belt, he stopped her.

"W—wait."

She peeled her hands away and looked up at him. "Are you okay? Do you want to slow down?"

He visibly swallowed, and she could read that look on his face that he got whenever he was embarrassed to tell her something. "N—no, I... I want... the opposite, actually."

"I don't follow..."

"Well, I know that... if you return the favor, I won't last very long, a—and I... I don't want to wait anymore."

Y/N smiled, standing again and bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. "So you're saying you... want me to move this along?"

Spencer smiled at her recollection of his words. "Yes, please."

They travelled to the bed then, Y/N taking off her shirt and bra when they got there, and leaving her completely bare to him. She sat down and reached for his belt, looking up at him as he stood.

"I'm clean and on birth control, do you still want to use a condom? I have some in my table drawer."

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "As long as you're sure."

Y/N undid his belt quickly and threw it to the side, making work of his button and zipper with a smile. "Oh I'm so sure..."

The way she said it made his dick twitch, images running through his mind of how it would look seeing her filled and dripping with—

Her hand was palming him through his underwear now, and it was all he could think about. He had already been hard before, but now it was tilting on the precipice of painful pleasure. So he stopped her, taking a deep breath.

"Lay down?"

"However you want me," Y/N answered, positioning herself on the bed so she was leaning back, her head nicely laid out on the pillows.

Spencer swallowed and removed his underwear before climbing on the bed and kneeling over her. Her legs were already wide, feet flat on either side of him as he positioned himself and got ready.

She reached out and gently grabbed his forearm, a gentle smile on her face. "You ready?"

"Mhm," he answered with a curt nod, bringing himself forward to run the head of his dick through her wetness. They both sighed at the feeling, and Spencer knew he was in trouble.

It was finally happening, he was getting another chance to have sex with her, and if he didn't last long again, he was going to—

"I love you," Y/N said reassuringly, rubbing circles into the hand that rested on the inside of her thigh.

He looked into her eyes and saw that love radiating from them. It warmed his insides and gave him the confidence he needed to finally, slowly push into her as he whispered, "I love you, too."

Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he let out a large breath, leaning down to brace his arms on either side of her head. The pressure of her clenched around him was overwhelming in the best way possible, and he never wanted to move.

But he had to.

She stroked his hair, pressing soft kisses all over his face, and whispered, "I love you."

With those three words, Spencer had the courage to pull back and then forward again, testing the waters and more accurately, his limits. He picked up a slow pace that burned him from the inside out, every muscle and vein in his body on fire with the knowledge that he was finally, properly making love to the woman he was pretty sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

But he was holding back. Y/N could tell. He glided through her with ease, sure, but his eyes were squeezed shut like he was concentrating, like he was pacing himself and trying to hold on to this feeling.

She moved her hands down to his back and lightly ran her fingernails over the skin, feeling him tremble under her touch.

"You feel so good, Spence," she whispered. "So perfect for me..."

The words made his hips stutter just a little, and Y/N knew then what the hesitation was.

He wanted to go faster.

So she moved her fingers lower, cupping his ass and scratching featherlight circles into the skin as she moaned. "You like when I talk to you, baby? Does hearing my voice help you out?"

Spencer choked out a groan as he opened his eyes and saw how feral she looked. Her pupils were blown wide, her mouth was pouted cutely, and she smiled as soon as she saw him bite his lip.

"You wanna go faster?" she cooed, digging her fingernails a little harder into the flesh of his ass. "Hmm?"

"F—fuck, Y/N... I..."

"You fuck me however you need to, baby. Don't hold back. Just let it all out."

He groaned out then, his hips picking up speed. She felt the relief and the tension rolling off his body as he finally gave into his urges, and it was just about the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.

"That's it, baby... Don't stop... Give it to me, let me feel you..."

He leaned down and kissed her then, pumping into her harder and harder with every second. She moaned out against his mouth, swallowing all his breaths and grunts. Meanwhile her fingers gripped his ass harder, relishing in the feeling of his muscles as they aided in fucking her.

His mouth pulled away as he shoved his face into her neck, and she sighed. "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck... " His hips kept moving, and she clenched around him hard, hoping to gauge his reaction.

Sure enough, he groaned against her neck and canted his hips harder. Every thrust forward now was so deep he hit her g-spot, and the sensation made her sigh with a smile. "That's fucking right, baby... Just like that, don't stop, don't stop. You fe—el so... ohhh."

Her words lit this fire in him that was impossible to put out. His body was hers for the taking, and so he'd give her everything he had. Which is why he picked up the pace and fucked into her as hard as he could, dangerously close to finishing.

"Fuck, Spence, I'm gonna... —na..."

Y/n's moans turned into a quiet scream as she came, clenching tightly around his dick and digging her fingernails into his ass. Her eyes squeezed shut with the swirling patterns of fireworks exploding behind them, meanwhile he twitched inside of her and lost it at last. As she came down, she helped him hold himself there, deep inside her as his cum spilled over in warm increments. They both moaned out at the feeling, all their tension easing and dissipating.

By the end, all that was left between the both of them was a thin sheen of sweat and murmured promises of "I love you."

They could have fallen asleep right there. Y/N's hands slid up his backside, over his arms, and then to the back of his head, combing gently through his disheveled hair as he pressed loving kisses to the patch of skin where her neck met her collarbone. He was still inside her, unwilling to leave the warmth she provided, and she did nothing to object.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asked, opening her eyes.

Spencer tilted his head up to look at her, his heart once again swelling at the adoring look in her eyes. "I'm great."

She laughed, and he laughed with her. And they were silent for a few moments before he spoke again.

"So, uh... What we just did is what we're counting as our real first time together, right? Like, the other time doesn't count?"

Y/N laughed again, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "If you want to count this as our first time, then yes. I'd be more than happy to agree with you."

"Good. This was much better."

Even though she would never hold their first first time together against him, she was inclined to agree.

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bbysamu · 3 years

Note

bestie what about kenma and osamu getting jealous of the boy you babysit? 🥺 i love your series!

#Haikyuu boys jealous of the kid you’re babysitting // pt.3

featuring:: KOZUME Kenma, MIYA Osamu

genre:: fluff, comedy

warning:: none!

⇢ Part I , Part II

a/n:: thanks for requesting my dear! I'm so happy you enjoy this series. I hope you like pt. 3!

❥ KOZUME Kenma

“babe, please remember to bring your switch.”

Kenma pouts, instantly regretting offering to babysit with you today. “do I have to?”

You look up at him, “you promised, babe. You’re the one who offered and I've told him and he’s so excited. He’s been talking about Mario Kart all week, you can’t back out or else you might break his little heart.”

Kenma rolls his eyes, “you’re so fricken dramatic, but fine.”

The two of you walk hand-in-hand, arriving right outside Theo’s door at 5 pm

“Y/n!” the little boy excitedly greets you

“Hi Theo!” you crouch down, hugging the little boy back, “do you remember me telling you about Mario Kart? well, look who’s here! This is Kenma, my boyfriend, and he’s brought Mario Kart just for you!”

Theo’s eyes gleamed at the mention of “Mario Kart”, but darkened for the slightest second at the mention of “boyfriend”

Kenma blinks, unsure of what he’s just seen and follows the two of you into the house

“Y/n, I’m hungry.” Theo juts out his lips, looking up at you expectantly

“I'll fix up a little snack for you, honey. Why don’t you play Mario Kart with Kenma first?”

Theo lets out a happy “yay” and runs into the living room

You give Kenma your best “you better be on your good behavior” look and he responds with a “I'll try”

As you’re in the kitchen fixing up a PB&J sandwich, Kenma quietly sets up the switch, trying to make small conversation with the young boy

“Hey Theo, do you have a favorite Mario character?”

“yeah.”

“which one?”

“the one I kick your butt with.”

Kenma looks up in surprise and finds the little boy glaring at him, “do you have a problem with me?”

“yeah, you’re ugly.”

“well, you’re exactly easy on the eyes either.” Kenma retorts quietly

“I hate your hair and I love Y/N.”

Kenma is amused and annoyed at the same time

“I love Y/N too.”

“I love her more. She is my wife.”

“she’s not even your girlfriend. She’s MY girlfriend and in a few years she’ll be my wife.”

Theo stomps his feet, “no, she is my girlfriend.”

“no, she’s mine.”

This little banter continued for a few good minutes before Theo finally comes up with a suggestion, “how about a game between us two men? The winner of Mario Kart gets Y/N as his girlfriend.”

Kenma snorts, “well, first of all, she isn’t some object we can just “win”. But I will accept your challenge and put you in your place.”

you come back to the living room and is shocked by the wave of intensity between Kenma and Theo as the two gripped the switch control and stared at the TV in front.

“hey boys, wanna take a break? I brought snacks.”

“shhhhhhh, in a bit.” Kenma responds

“In a bit” eventually turned into three hours of non-stop Mario Kart that left Theo crying in your laps after losing every single game

After comforting him and putting him in bed, you bid farewell to his parents and left with Kenma

“Kenma Kozume.”

Your boyfriend stiffens at your use of his full name, “yes, kitten?”

“don't “kitten” me. Why’d you do that? Why couldn’t you go easy on Theo? I thought we had an understanding.”

Kenma sighs, “look I really didn’t want to tell you this, but I couldn’t afford to go easy on the kid.”

“why?”

“because I might lose you.”

“what in the world are you talking about?”

He glance at you before averting his eyes, “he challenged me and the winner gets you as his girlfriend.”

You burst out laughing at this incredulous notion, “but, I'm already your girlfriend.”

He turns to you, “yeah! I know! but if I lose, he’ll keep saying you’re his girlfriend and I hate that!”

You soften as you watch the red appear on his cheeks

“you know you’re adorable when you’re jealous”

“you know I love you right?” Kenma asks

“I've never doubted that for a second.”

❥ MIYA Osamu

Osamu packs the rice balls into the little container, making sure the little dinosaurs aren’t squished together

“babe, you’re so sweet for making these. I bet Johnny would love them.”

Osamu smiles up at you, “thanks for letting me tag along, princess. I’m excited to meet this Johnny kid you’ve been talking so much about.”

Osamu regrets ever asking to meet Johnny the moment the 10-year old opened the door and yelled, “My love! you’re finally back to see me!”

Yes, you’ve warned your boyfriend about Johnny being quite a dramatic kid, but Osamu had no idea Johnny’s dramatic antics would include dramatically flirting with you

“Hi darling, I literally just saw you four days ago.”

“and that’s just too long.”

“oh stop it, you. Ever so dramatic. Anyhow, this is my boyfriend Osamu, and guess what? He’s made you your favorite snacks.”

Osamu could feel his annoyance rise as Johnny glanced over and gave him a once-over before smiling, an obviously fake smile

“oh thank you mr. Osamu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Osamu clears his throat, returning an equally fake smile, “nice to meet you too, Johnny. You can just call me Osamu.”

“great.” again, with that fake smile

“Johnny, why don’t you show Osamu the puzzle we’ve been working on and I’ll get the rice balls out of the containers for us.”

Johnny leads the way, with Osamu trailing slowly behind him. As soon the two of them were out of your earshot, both dropped their formalities

“hey Osamu,” Johnny turns around, “thanks for the rice ball, but don’t come back with Y/N ever again. This is my quality time with my darling and I don’t need you ruining it, especially not someone like you.”

Osamu scoffs, “first of all, where’d you come from kid? The 1950s? second of all, I was just thinking I should’ve probably added some laxatives in those rice balls for you.”

Johnny scoffs in return, “Jokes on you because I don’t even know what laxatives are.”

Osamu was about to respond when you returned with the rice balls.

The rest of the evening was spend with the two of them vying for your attention and subtle glares at each other when you weren’t looking

Osamu breathes a sigh of relief when Johnny’s parents returned and the two of you left for the front door

“bye beautiful Y/N! I shall miss you and see you in my dreams.”

You roll your eyes playfully before giving the kid a hug, “see you Thursday, honey.”

Osamu playfully swings your interlaced fingers back and forth as you guys walk back to his car

“did you have fun?”

“nope.”

“what? It looked like you had a good time chatting with Johnny.”

“this kid is way too much for me. You know he tried to threaten me? babe, I don’t think you should babysit him anymore.”

You laugh slightly, “oh babe, don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

Osamu glance over at you, “if I say I was, would you stop?”

“nope, but I’ll say you’re very cute and give you a kiss.”

Osamu sighs dramatically, “fine, I guess I'll accept.”

The two of you stand kissing in front of his car for a few minutes. You tried to pull away, only for him to tighten his grips on your waist, lips continue pressing into yours

If he’s going to act this way, maybe you should invite him over to babysit Johnny more often

📮 Requests are open!

stay fetch, xoxo

#ceci.writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#kenma x reader #kenma fluff #haikyuu fluff #Osamu x reader #Osamu fluff #osamu x you #hq hcs #hq!! headcanons #dial 1::queues

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keilemlucent · 3 years

Text

(nsfw) ✧ (dark content warnings) ✧ (minors do not interact)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: abuse, noncon/dubcon, yandere, vomit due to illness, delusion, reader is definitely not mentally well, brief description of injury, hawks is Not nice in this, reader has difficulty eating,

a/n: uhhh it’s 2am, time to post dark drabble lol!! i love like.... deep yandere stuff. when darling’s already been In It for awhile and worn down. mwah. chefs. kiss. anyways, here’s my take!

You want to know what rain tastes like.

Is it different than water from the tap? You had asked him one day. He chuckled but didn’t give you an answer. Just an easy deflection, something unrelated to pull your mind from the outside.

It is easier this way.

It’s so much easier to draw the curtains in the morning. Damn the sun, damn the light— You can take vitamin D supplements and pretend you don’t mind how dark the apartment is no matter the time of day.

It’s easier to ignore the multiple locks (seven. you count them sometimes to pass the time) that are bolted into the door. The time it takes him to open them with all their tumbling gears and thundering clicks is the preamble to his comings and goings.

You know to rise from your damn-near sacred spot on the couch to greet him. You go to him with a kiss on his cheek, and to give him hug so hard, it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s from the strain of your arms around his, or the pressure of his embrace around you. You don’t particularly mind either way. It’s the reminder you need that as empty and dark as the apartment is, he’ll always return.

Always.

You lock your hands behind his back, clasped below his wings. Routinely, you bury your face in his chest while he sways you. He asks about your day, but he isn’t listening. You don’t think so, but you don’t mind. Nothing you say means much, and every day is the same. You sit on the couch and stare at the floor. The walls. The ceiling if you’re feeling more adventurous.

You stopped watching TV alone months ago. No matter what you watched on Keigo’s big, sleek television, it was just a reminder. An awful, unavoidable reminder that the world is quite large, and you weren’t apart of it.

You couldn’t be. You were locked in place— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — in the little apartment. Wasting away, as much as you tried not to.

...

“You need to eat, baby,” Keigo coax. He holds a deep spoonful of soup to your lips. It smells divine, like chives and cream. “Just a little. For me?”

‘For me.’

Your inability to stomach anything is his problem, just as much as it is yours. That’s just a fact.

“I don’t want to get sick again,” You squeeze your hands. There is a semblance of comfort in the action as Keigo inspects you. Searching.

It isn’t a lie. Your stomach growls and rolls, and it has been all day. Keigo has started to always leave ample leftovers in the fridge in the case you’d actually want to eat them. And you do. Sometimes, you even try! Really try. But the end result is always the same. Your head ends up dangling over the bowl of your toilet while you wretch and writhe.

Acid stings your throat for hours.

Despite Keigo’s... previous treatment, he seems genuinely concerned about this development. You’re hardly able to keep anything down, despite being well otherwise.

(You’re so unwell and have been for so long, he can’t begin to see it. The bruises are perpetual. The scars that you didn’t have a year ago are fixtures he can’t remember you without. The constant tremble you carry is from the drafty apartment, not from the deeply instilled fear you carry. The one he had branded (literally) onto you. Into you.)

(Fucker.)

You shake the thought off and open your mouth and accept the bite. And Keigo, bless his heart, is sweet enough to not shove the spoon to the back of your throat. He lets you suck the soup from it, quietly praising your work.

You manage to eat half the bowl before shaking your head, tummy already twisting in the worst, most familiar way.

Keigo gives you pills then. Four of them, all slightly different colors and shapes. You don’t know what they do, and you knew better than to ask (you’d gotten slapped across the face the first and only time you tried.)

The fourth pill is new, and Keigo, graciously, tells you that it’s for the nausea. That a special doctor is helping him help you. Isn’t that wonderful?

You’re so, so lucky.

(You hurl the next morning once the meds wear off. Your hands shake and your slam your fist into your temples. Begging. You’re not sure to who. Maybe to yourself. Your body. Crying for your wretched form to just stop hurting you. If you weren’t sick, things would be better.

Maybe, you’re begging Keigo. For help. To make it stop. To take care of you and coo that things will be fine as things are so completely not find that you can’t comprehend it. But he is the one who decides when you hurt. Shouldn’t he be able to make this stop?

Maybe you’re begging him to unlatch those — one, two, three, four, five, six— seven locks so you could dash into the world. Scream at the first person you see that beloved, pro-hero Hawks is so beyond deranged and fucked up. Maybe no civilian would believe you. But you were the evidence. You bore the slashes of his feathers. The perpetual imprint of his fingers on hips and thighs. You even had a brand on the bottom of your foot. K-E-I-G-O.

Maybe, you’re begging to whatever god you once believed in to kill you. You don’t care about the means. Be it your hand, or Keigo’s, or random chance.)

You spew into the murky water and try to forget.

...

Keigo’s special doctor comes by. You see the two exchange hands by the door when she first arrives. A flash of bills and coins. Paid off, part of you perks up. The doctor won’t talk about Hawks’ little captive. You’re sure it’s a handsome amount, based on the neutrality of her expression as she takes you in.

To care so little about something like you is hardly a surprise.

She examines you, collects some blood and other samples. Prescribes a few more medicines that have long and complicated names that are hard to pronounce. You try to forget them. You’re happy to be quiet. Sit next to Keigo while he wraps a wing around you and rubs your back in little circles. He’s warm and good, unlike the rot in your stomach.

Keigo praises you once she leaves, wrapping you up in him, scarlet feathers and all. Kisses your cheeks, telling you how well you did. How you didn’t falter, didn’t scream, didn’t let her touch you too much. How you were so perfect for him. You deserve a reward!

He treats you to fresh sheets and more kisses. The kind that feels like how lovers are supposed to kiss. There isn’t too much teeth or tongue, just slow, open-mouthed pressing that makes your tummy flutter in a good way (for once.)

“Isn’t this nice?” Keigo hums against your lips.

You nod, barely eager but not apprehensive either. Treading lightly on a carefully, self-cultivated path between wanting and revulsion. As good as it feels, you don’t want to give him. You don’t remember how.

His lips trail to your neck, to your collarbones. He pushes up your shirt and only leaves little pecks over your nipples and chest. No wounds that draw blood. No hickeys that last weeks.

You don’t realize you start trembling until Keigo has to grip your inner thighs to still you. So, he can coo blessed, little reminders.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I always make you feel so good.”

“You deserve this, all of this,” he says before pressing his lips to your clit. You’re just wet enough for him to fuck you on his fingers. Enough that when he bullies the bundle of nerves inside you, you coat his fingers in slick and whine. Your voice breaks, over and over, and little, unwanted tears leak into your hairline.

Keigo ignores them as usual. You can be so dramatic.

And Keigo, ever gracious, let’s you shatter on his fingers. Doesn’t make you beg, just whispered hushed adorations as you come undone on his tongue. He hardly toys with you after, and instead lets you fall into the sheets. Properly spend, though not exhausted.

You still shake, but that’s okay. It’s manageable.

Keigo cleans you up with a silken cloth. He wipes between the swell of your breasts, down your navel and to your cunt. His feathers ruffle as he does his work, clearly focused. There’s no speaking during it, only watching and observing.

“Thank you.” You speak without prompting.

Your words are dry and underused. Your lips feel chapped, and your vision is hazy in the dark of the bedroom.

Keigo gives you a smile (full of white-hot pride), clicking his tongue, “Of course, dovey. You deserve to feel good for me. I want you to. I like you like this.”

(He carries that same sentiment that no matter your ‘post-fuck’ state. Whether you’re twitching and dumb from overstimulation. Whether you’re bawling from pain and holding your hand over a too deep, ‘accidental’ wound. Whether your expression is blank, lips ajar, and face tilted to the ceiling.)

You can only agree with him.

What other option do you have?

...

(The doctor calls the following week. Keigo speaks to her in hushed tones from his office, muffled and stern. You only catch pieces of it.

“They do not appear to be suffering from anything specific illness.” The doctor pauses. “The weakness, fatigue, shakiness, forgetfulness, and nausea all seem to be tied back to prolonged anxiety. Constant surges of adrenaline that have pushed them to this point.”

Keigo doesn’t bother asking the source.

He knows it.

(And honestly? He seems a little proud.)

You return to settle on the couch. Ever practiced, you turn towards the door and find the locks.

One, two, three four—

That four one wouldn’t be too hard to pick, would it?

(You’d already tried months ago. It was just a chain lock, but Keigo had nearly snapped your wrist when he caught you trying to tamper with it.)

Five, six, seven—

Your stomach rolls and your hug your knees, still managing a smile when Keigo rejoins you. His wings flex, and he flashes you a golden smile. His phone is locked and in his hand, and you know he’ll ignore it for the night. He’ll wrap you in his arms and smother you with his wings.

It’s better this way, you remind yourself, turning from the locks.

#salem writes #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw dark content #tw yandere #tw vomit #it's vomit from illness btw #tw self injury #please lemme know if i miss a tag #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #i might delete this or repost to my side blog sdklfjla #we will see #for now it is here

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xcrystalzero · 3 years

Text

all the things i believed

pairing: xiao x reader

summary: you've only seen the boy who lives in the apartment one over from yours a few times, but you knew the look of someone who wanted to seem intimidating when you saw one. so, why was his music taste so adorable?

alternatively, xiao thinks that the apartment walls are a lot thicker than they actually are and accidentally exposes the fact that he's not nearly as angsty as he wants everyone to believe.

note: soft xiao makes me way too happy. also, here is xiao's playlist! i recommend listening while you read :) if you guys like it, i'll make playlists for my fics more often!

"I'll miss you!" Your roommate had her arms wound tightly around your torso and it didn't seem like she planned on letting go any time soon. She was also squeezing just a tad too hard and it was starting to hurt.

Gingerly, you patted her on the shoulder, subtly attempting to pry her off of you with your other hand. "I'll miss you too... But remember, it's only two weeks and then you're back!"

That only served to make her pout even more as she finally pulled away "Two weeks is so long though! How am I going to survive without you and your brownies?"

"Hah, so you're really only worried about not having brownies huh?"

"You know that's not what I meant!" she whined, causing you to giggle slightly. Honestly though, there was no way anyone watching could possibly think that she would only be gone for two weeks. Your roommate had decided that she needed three full suitcases and the world's largest carry-on purse for her little trip, and you were honestly a little worried about it.

"Ahem..." Your bonding moment was promptly interrupted by a soft but very present voice directly behind you. Whirling around, you came face to face with a vaguely familiar figure.

It was the golden eyes that caught your attention first. Even in the strange fluorescent light of the hallway, they almost seemed to have a light of their own, a hypnotizing sort of gleam that you couldn't bring yourself to look away from. Of course, the rest of him was no less than stunning either. Dressed head to toe in black with his angular features and lean build, he was striking.

His eyes widened slightly as you turned towards him though they settled fairly quickly back into what you could only assume was his trademark glare.

"Just... trying to get through." His voice was gruff, but much softer than you had anticipated. Perhaps even gentle?

Oh yeah, that was how you knew him! Your schedules must have been somewhat similar since you were sure you passed him at least a few times a week. You had never talked but you were pretty sure you had seen him going into the unit one over from yours quite a few times.

So this was your neighbor huh? He was cute, if a little intimidating.

"Oh sorry!" your roommate chimed in. "We were just leaving, we'll get out of your way!" She began to scoot her bags to the side and you quickly joined in, wheeling one of the suitcases to the side, though you couldn't seem to keep your eyes off of the guy. Every time you looked away, it was as though your gaze was drawn back towards him by some unnatural force.

It helped that he seemed just as awkward with the whole thing as you did, alternating glancing between the you and your roommate, the floor, and his phone. As soon as there was enough space for him to squeeze by, he did, mumbling a quick thanks as he made his way down the hall, unlocking his door and disappearing into his apartment in what felt like a second.

After a moment of silence, your roommate piped up again. "He's cute!"

"He can probably still hear you!" you whacked her across the shoulder, causing her to pout in your direction again, though the teasing look never left her eyes.

"He's kind of your type too isn't he?" she all-but waggled her eyebrows in your direction to which you rolled your eyes.

"Aren't you already late for your flight"

"Oh shit!"

~~~

The apartment felt so strange when you were alone. Usually around this time of night, your roommate would have come banging on your door to join her for her late night rom-com marathon or to help her chose an outfit or the party she was going to. Tonight however, everything was quiet.

With a sigh, you slumped over onto your bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone in hopes of finding some sort of entertainment.

That was when you heard it. The soft sound of an instrumental through the wall, slowly building in volume as you assumed whoever lived in that room turned up the volume.

"40 days and 40 nights... I waited for a girl like you to come and save my life..."

Aww cute, love songs! Had you been busy or doing literally anything else, you might have been annoyed, or at least a little worried about exactly how loud they had to be playing their music for you to be able to hear it. As things stood though, it was a welcome distraction.

"You were out of my league, all the things I believed, you were just the right kind yeah you were more than just a dream..."

Oh yeah, you knew this song too! There was a sort of second timbre to the sound and you wondered if the person playing the music was singing along as well.

Wait, who was playing that music. Judging by the sound, it was likely the unit one to your left where their wall joined with yours. The unit one to your left...

Multi-colored hair and golden eyes... The cute guy? Pulling yourself immediately up into a sitting position, you pressed yourself to the wall before immediately realizing how crazy you were acting.

He was just playing music, that wasn't anything weird.

"Romeo take me, somewhere we can be alone..."

Taylor Swift. He was playing Taylor Swift. At that, you started laughing. Wow, appearances really could be deceiving huh? You sighed as you leaned with your back against the wall, letting the vibrations from the music soak into your very being.

You were sure that you'd heard music coming from that unit before but he wasn't usually loud at all. Maybe something was different today? Maybe you'd ask him when you next saw him. And maybe, he'd actually want to talk to you when you did.

Or maybe not.

So for now, you let your head rest against the wall, letting the music and soft singing lull you into relaxation.

~~~

That was it, you despised public transportation. All you wanted was to get out of your apartment for one day and take your work to a nearby cafe. So of course, when you ran outside to catch the bus that came once every hour, the bus driver looked you straight in the eye as he closed the door right in front of you and drove off. And then for good measure, it started raining.

You sighed, burying your face in the backpack on your lap. If the bus app was right, which it rarely was, there was another bus you could take arriving in the next few minutes, so maybe this wouldn't be as awful as you thought.

The sound of footsteps entering the little bus stop booth got your mind off of your moping as you raised your head just enough to peer over at who it was that had just joined you.

Oh. Standing there, hood pulled up over his multi-toned hair and seemingly permanent scowl fixed on his lips, was your hot neighbor. Your hot neighbor with very interesting music taste if last night told you anything.

Since nothing could go right for you, the moment that you looked at him, he looked at you, meaning the two of you got to share a few agonizing seconds of awkward eye contact before he pointedly turned away with a soft "tsk". That being said, you were sure that you weren't imagining the slight tinge of shock you had seen in his gaze for a moment.

"You've got good timing, there's one coming in like 5 minutes." You had no idea how you had managed to get the words out without stuttering or blushing the moment he turned back to look at you.

"That's good..." Yup, that was an expected response, and yet, you really just wanted him to keep talking. So this was the end of your story with the gorgeous emo boy next door. Relegated to exchanging conversation about public transportation and nothing more. It was really the wasted potential here that was killing you. So many cute interactions that would just never happen. Ah if only the bus would come so that you wouldn't have to wallow in your despair any longer.

"I... thought you were leaving yesterday?"

Oh? You whirled around way too quickly to face the man, causing his eyes to widen as he shifted away instinctually.

"Oh, I was just helping my roommate move all of her stuff," you managed to get out, summoning what you hoped was a non-nervous smile to your lips.

"Those were all her bags?" he seemed horrified, enough so that you couldn't hold back your laughter.

"I said the same thing! She's kind of insane sometimes but I love her..." Well, it was no or never. "I'm [name] by the way!" You smiled and extended a hand out towards the boy.

He regarded you for a moment with a look you couldn't put into words. After what felt like an eternity however, he gently took your hand in his own, holding it for barely a moment before pulling back again. "Xiao."

Xiao. There was a strange sense of relief that came with this new knowledge. Know that you knew his name, was it couth to ask him what his favorite Taylor Swift song was? Probably not. But there was a chance that you might literally never be able to talk to him again... Meh, it was as you were thinking before right? Now or never.

"Hi Xiao. I liked your playlist last night by the way." The words came out more effortlessly than you had thought they would, carefree and teasing.

You were a little bit surprised though when you glanced back over at Xiao, only to find him eyes blown wide as a deep red spread quickly across his cheeks. "Y-You!"

"Honestly a pretty good curation! If a little unexpected..." You had no idea what it was about this guy but he really brought the snarky, teasing part of you out. Maybe it was the fact that while he usually looked cold and intimidating, blushing, embarrassed Xiao was strangely adorable.

"I thought you left!" Xiao blurted out. "I mean... There were so many bags... And your roommate said that you guys were leaving..."

You stared blankly at him for a moment before immediately dissolving into peals of laughter. Xiao had the gall to pretend to be offended for a moment before he looked away with a soft huff. "What..."

"You know, I kind of thought you were scary at first," you managed between giggles. "I guess not though!"

"Ugh, you're insufferable." Xiao rolled his eyes though you were sure that you saw the slightest hint of a smile as he did. "Why were you listening through the walls anyway?"

"Xiao, it was literally so loud."

"It wasn't that bad!"

"And I think I heard some singing too! Say, you in a band? Do you guys usually just write love songs?"

"I was not singing!"

There was a strange warmth in your chest as the two of you went back and forth. So things could go right for you after all?

~~~

Sadly, you and Xiao hadn't been going the same way, so when his bus came - before yours you might add - the two of you had parted ways. The sun had been going down when you made your way back home, satisfied with a productive day, though the memory of your conversation with Xiao was still taking up a lot more headspace than you would have liked.

So this is what it was like to simp for a guy? You weren't sure you liked it.

Setting down the takeout you had picked up on the counter, you crashed onto your living room couch with a low groan. Sleep would be nice right about now, but also, you had to eat and shower and clean...

"I wonder what Xiao's doing?" The thought appeared in your head suddenly and you almost smacked yourself right then and there. Why were you always thinking about him? You'd literally spoken to the guy once, and it wasn't anything special! Just some teasing and his little retorts... And his cute blush... And his little smile... And the way he pretended to be annoyed when he was clearly enjoying it... Wow, this was worse than you thought.

"CAN YOU FEEL MY HEART?"

You yelped, jumping up in your seat at the sudden noise, coming once again from the wall separating you and Xiao's units. You paused for a moment but before you could stop yourself, you were back up on your feet, making your way over and banging against the wall.

"You're not fooling anyone Xiao!" you yelled, not sure if he could even hear you. Apparently he could since the music stopped as quickly as it had started. There was a moment of silence as you pressed your ear to the wall, waiting for his next move. What you did not expect was to hear sound in the other direction. A knock on your door.

Confused, you made your way over, unlocking the door and pulling it open to reveal, Xiao? He was still wearing his giant black hoodie, though the glare was missing.

"Did you run out of sugar or something? Or fake angsty songs to play?" you questioned with a grin.

As expected, he let out a soft huff, turning his head away in fake exasperation. "You're a menace."

"So what I'm hearing is that you want me to send in a noise complaint!"

"You idiot... I'm just here to-" For whatever reason, he was blushing again.

"Here to?" you prompted, wondering if you should invite him in or offer him water or something. He was tugging at the collar of his hoodie too...

"J-Just here to say that if you're going to sit there listening through the walls, you might as well just come over..."

Did you hear that right? You stared at him for a moment longer, blinking slowly. This was probably a dream right? You were so tired when you got home that you fell asleep and now you were dreaming.

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to..." Or maybe not.

"You know, normal people just invite people over without pretending to be edgy right?"

"Shut it, are you coming or not?"

"Yeah yeah I'm coming. Oh yeah, I got takeout, I'll bring it. It's from that new place down the street, Wangshu Inn. Have you ever had Almond Tofu before?"

"... you're unbelievable."

note: i want a hot neighbor like xiao... i did have a hot neighbor who i did hit on, but then i found out that he had a girlfriend so i stopped... but xiao would be better.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact au #genshin au #modern au #xiao #xiao genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao genshin x reader #alatus

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