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merrygay · 3 months

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“Ah ah… What did you say ?”

Alastor x reader

Warning : NSFW, Dacryphilia, Dark Themes, cannibalism, Alastor is a Warning himself. English is not my first language. I’m bad at writing synopsis. I’m bad at writing in general in fact.

Synopsis : Innocent reader tries to make a deal with Vox in order to protect herself from Alastor.

Other : Lovely ; Alastor x reader

(Sorry for the long delay, college is kicking my ass)

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It’s been a week since the incident with Alastor happened, he hadn’t touched you since or even come your way.

Though you still tried to avoid him like the plague, every time you saw him, around the corner, in the living room, anywhere, you just quickly run away for dear life.

You were scared, what if this time he eats you for good ? What if he does the same thing he did last time and then proceed to eat you at the same ? You were getting paranoid at this point.

Seeing your small figure scare away from him like the pretty prey that you are made him grin even wider. He was clearly enjoying this, enjoying you, at first he hated that he lost control to a miserable thing like you, but as time passes the idea of a plaything didn’t seem to bother him anymore, especially when he was this hungry.

You've tried to forget what happened, you've really tried, but every night when you're alone in bed, you can't help yourself.

The pulsating feeling between your legs won’t stop, oh poor you, it gets even worse when the image of his head between your legs becomes clearer, his tongue unashamedly licking the most intimate part of your body, making a mess of himself with your juices as they drip from your sensitive pussy while you moan and whimper.

An innocent thing like you can’t even understand why you are feeling like this.

You rub your thighs to cease the sensation the same sensation you felt when he did this forbidden thing to you but it doesn’t work, you keep whining until you finally fell asleep.

You had to find a solution and quick, you don’t know when he’s going to jump on you again and this time eat you for good.

So Here you were, in front of the building of nonetheless than the Vees. It was a dumb idea let’s be honest here. Each step you take to get closer to the doors makes your heart beats faster. Making a deal with Vox must be better than being killed by Alastor right ? Right ?

“You want me to do what now ?”

The man in front of you, with a flat-screen TV for a face, looked at you as if you'd said the stupidest thing in the world.

“Why would I make a deal with an employee of this stupid fucking hotel huh ?”

You swallow nervously at his answer, playing with your fingers as you try to avoid his piercing gaze.

“I-I need to make a deal with you because I heard you are the only one who is as strong as Alastor-“

Vox smiles widen as he seems to like the compliment, “Ahah. Go on, continue I don’t have the whole fucking day” he says tapping against his office table.

You then proceed to explain, trying to avoid some of the… more embarrassing details.

he begins to laugh… laugh ? Why is he laughing ?

“You’re telling me that you are the new toy of Alastor”

He pauses for a second smiling devilishly while looking at you from head to toe

“You know what I’ll make deal with you, stealing Alastor fucking food is much more fun I can’t wait to see the face of this old prick when-”

His TV face starts to vibrate, you could see it was one of the other Vees calling. He puts the call in one of his other TV.

“Hello there, Velvet. How are you this Hellish morning”, in stark contrast to Vox lively greeting, Velvet response was one of pure annoyance.

“Cut the shit vox, i need you up here NOW. Your little boy toy is wracking my department while I tried to put together a show !”

Other voices could be heard behind her notably Valentino’s who was cursing around, yelling and destroying the entire department. Velvet ends the call without giving Vox any chance to say something.

Vox’s smiling face drops, he lets out a loud sigh.

“Here I was.. excited for something… anyway come this afternoon, so we can finalize our deal, I have a fire to put out upstairs”

With that, you leave the building, and quickly go back to the hotel avoiding the sinners running around and killing each other.

You open the doors, but it's strangely quiet - maybe they've gone out, you wonder. You climb the stairs back to your room, but when you finally reach the corridor, you suddenly hear a static sound.

“Are you still going to avoid me hmm ?”

You hear that familiar voice, filtered through the radio, with that all-too-familiar smile. He appeared right in front of you. You flinch and take a few steps back, your legs ready to run in the opposite direction.

He chuckles, his smile widening, awnnn how cute, you're still this scared of him.

“Now now don’t be scared, I just want to have a little chat with you” he says while turning around. Alastor was now walking towards your room Insinuating you to follow him.

“N-no ! I’m not going to, you should stay away from me, I made a deal with Vox !”

As those words settles in, the corridor seemed to shrink, suffocating you in a claustrophobic embrace.

The lights starts to flicker casting grotesque shadows on the peeling wallpaper.

A sudden chill permeated the air, causing goosebumps to rise on your already trembling skin.

“Haha.. What did you say ?” His voice took on a deeper timbre through his radio filter.

An oppressive weight settled over the corridor, squeezing the breath from your lungs and filling your minds with irrational fear.

He turns to you, his predatory eyes shining through the flickering lights. Each step seemed to echo with ominous intent while he grew taller and taller and his antlers increased in size.

"Do you really think he can keep me away from you? I don't think you really understand the situation you're in, my dear… You're my plaything, my prey and my meal. If you utter those stupid words again... I'll end Vox's life and broadcast his screams for every disrespectful wreck who dares to take what's MINE”

You were on the floor, you shaky legs were to weak to stand on their own, while Alastor’s glowing eyes pierced through your soul.

"Have I made myself clear?" He asks, leaning slightly so that his face is close to yours. You nod, lips pressed together, too scared to speak.

He tilted his head, his eyes softened, but the smirk that played on his lips refused to yield, a silent mockery that belied his gentle gaze.

In stark contrast to the anger that had consumed him mere moments ago, his voice now returned to its normal tone as he uttered the words “good girl” while petting your head.

The transition was jarring, as if a storm had suddenly given way to a calm, clear sky, leaving those around him bewildered by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

He straighten up and turns his back to you “Come now, I don’t know for you my dear but all that action has worked up quite an appetite, I'm absolutely famished !” he chuckles darkly as he starts walking towards your room.

He didn't give you time to get up, as one of his tentacles wrapped itself around your waist forcefully.

Next thing you know, Alastor was sitting at the edge of your bed, you straddling his lap facing him, with only your bra and skirt remaining still while your shirt was torn on the floor.

“You are terrible liar” Alastor force you to look at his smirking face.

“You didn’t make any deal .. yet” as he states those words without any warning he bites your neck, you let out a cry of surprise, you tried to get away, pushing him away in vain, he had one firm hand placed on your hips his claws digging in harder and harder each time you moved. Ironically his other hand holds yours in a romantic embrace, your fingers intertwined to his.

“Stay still, or I will devour you. You have no idea how much I’m restraining myself right now little one”, he can't help it, it's been a week since he's tasted you, since he's bitten your pretty little body, everything about you drives him crazy, your smell ahh your smell.

He goes back to your neck this time nestling there, inhaling deeply and then proceed to lick the spot he bit earlier, licking up the blood, his tongue started to go down, until he reached your breasts still covered with your bra, he looks up at you, smirking.

You were a trembling mess, your emotions swirled like a tempest, fear tightening your chest with every breath, embarrassment flooding your cheeks with a telltale blush. Yet amidst the chaos, a stirring of arousal sent shivers along your back, a well too familiar feeling between your thighs started to show up much to your dismay.

His hand, which was on your hips moved with a slow, deliberate, grace, gradually tracing a path upwards, each caress sending shivers down your spine until it reached the delicate lace of your bra.

His eyes were still staring into yours, drinking in your every reaction as his claws ripped the clasp of your bra, freeing your breasts for his hungry eyes to see.

You tried to cover them with your hand but He withdraws it “a-a”, he says sarcastically before his tongue trace a sensual path along your neck, gradually venturing lower and lower, your breath came in shallow gaps, each inhalation tinged with anticipation.

He finally reaches your chest, his tongue tracing precise circles around your nipples, you try to stifle your moans with your hand, but he suddenly bites your breast, making you cry out his name as he chuckles.

He continues for a while without ever ceasing to lick and bite, his hand still intertwined with yours, as you keep whimpering.

He was getting excited each sounds that came out of your mouth made him feral making his antlers grow and his eyes took on a predatory gleam, a never stopping hunger.

Without Warning, he forcefully lifted you from his lap, abruptly changing position as he pushed you down onto the bed, he slid your legs up onto his shoulders, giving him access to your thighs which he didn’t wait a minute before biting on it much more harder this time making you yelp in pain.

You watch his shark like teeth digging into the flesh of your skin, eliciting a crimson flow that trickled down you thigh, his tongue darted out to lap at the blood pooling around the wound, hungrily savoring again the metallic tang of the fluid.

“P-Please stop” you begged, tears rolling down your cheeks. He ignores your plead instead he keeps going, biting your other thigh, licking it and then taking another bite, while he slowly gets closer to your cunt.

His fingers played with the edge of your damp panties, teasing you. Your pussy was dripping wet. Your scent was intoxicating, everything about you was intoxicating, the way he was ruining you, both physically and mentally turned him on even more.

He abruptly ripped out your panties, your pussy was now exposed to him, it took him a lot of restraint for him not to eat you right fucking now, just like before.

His index finger teased a delicate trail along your belly, he descended lower his nail traced a deliberate scratch along your skin, igniting a surge of desire that pulsed through your vein.

You weren’t supposed to feel like this, but instead of hating it, you were desperate, one part you wanted him to touch your pussy, make you feel the same feeling of just pure bliss, and the other part, fear just pure fear.

“P-Please don’t go any lower” you plead again each word punctuated by a stifled sob, but it was too late, the demon before you was too intoxicated by your scent, by your wetness, your whole body really.

Again your pretty little mind had no idea about the struggle he was going through right now, struggling to restrain his cannibalistic impulses, and hearing your cries wasn’t helping at all, in the contrary, he derived such pleasure from your tears.

The way your puffy eyes would look at him, lips cutely pressed together, face flushed ahhh don’t blame him for acting out while you look this delicious.

“I want your soul” the demon says, before his finger applied gently pressure to your sensitive button, making you gasp in pleasure, he stroked circular motions over your clit heightened the pace, while watching your face which was trying not to moan but failed miserably.

“Let’s make a deal”, you were surprised by his sudden request “w-what” you stutters out, is he really suggesting it now ? Like right now in the middle of that ?

You couldn’t think straight you were too absorb by the pleasure he was providing you, you shake your head no, which made him stopped his movements making you whine, you look up at him, with that desperate look on your face.

Suddenly, he thrusts two fingers inside you, causing you to let out a moan of surprise at the sudden intrusion.

Alastor didn’t like the way you reacted to his request and it showed, as he pushes his fingers in and out with a forceful intensity.

He easily found your sweet spot, not letting you the time to process anything, you were a moaning mess at this point, clutching the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric while you begged him to slow down it was all too much for you.

“I will take you under my wig, and in exchange your soul would be mine forever” he declares.

Oh how ironic was it ? The problem himself proposing you this offer, it’s not like this morning you were literally trying to find a solution to get away from him.

You couldn’t reply back, only moans came out of that pretty mouth of yours making him chuckle, the intense heat that was building inside you, ready to be released at any moment was making you dizzy.

And then

He stops

Completely

Leaving you in a state of desperate longing, denied the released you craved.

“A-Alastor” you keep whining, moving your hips desperately.

“Accept my deal… just let it go” you couldn’t resist anymore you needed this so badly, you finally nod which made Alastor’s smile became more sinister as he starts to push his fingers in and out again, each stroke hitting your sweet spot harder, his other free hand comes towards yours to take, “it’s a deal then ?”.

The atmosphere changed drastically, Alastor form was becoming more demonic but you couldn’t care less at this point fear already consumed you, you were too absorb on reaching your climax now.

You hold his hand, nodding eagerly, moaning out a yes, and that’s all he needed to hear. Before you know it a collar appeared around your neck its chain dangling freely for Alastor to hold, which he does.

His fingers was buried deep inside your pussy while his other hand grasped the chain of your collar, you were his now forever there’s no going back.

Your body quivered with anticipation as you were reaching you peak, your tried to speak but your words were incoherent, but Alastor knew what you were about to say.

He suddenly buried his face between your legs, his fingers remaining inside you pumping in and out rapidly, while his tongue was devouring your pussy as if each taste was his last.

Your arched your back and with a shuddering gasp your body convulsed letting waves of pleasure washing over you, your moans getting louder as you finally came.

Your juices were all over his mouth and fingers. He eagerly took all in swallowing it without hesitation, while you were laying there panting and whimpering trying to regain some sense.

Alastor straighten himself, pulling out his fingers and bringing it to his mouth to lick it clean while fixing you with an intense gaze.

After regaining some sort of composure, a flicker of realization crossed over your features “n-n-n-noo what have I done !”, your voice rise in panic as you seat up, which made Alastor laugh with mockery each chuckle making you realize even more in what situation you were in now.

You tried to get off the bed but the grip that had Alastor on the chain held you firmly in place.

“Oh my dear, but I’m not done yet” he says before slamming you back into the bed.

Indeed he wasn’t done yet.

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It’s 3 am and I hope what I wrote made sense

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin alastor

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ballorawan740 · 3 years

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SCP Scenarios: SCP 173 (The Sculpture) x Reader | NEW CHARACTER

(Don't ask about that GIF)

I did change 173 slightly in a way that he can move his limbs and communicate verbally, so Peanut here would be a tiny bit OC

First Encounter

You both met in 173's cell

For some reason, when you blinked, 173 just stood in front of you

Like, this peanut didn't kill you or anything

It was more as if he was interested in you

He somehow found the ability to talk

Even patted your head to your surprise

This also supposed the whole of the facility since they've only observed 173 spanning everyone's neck and teleporting

And they've never seen him move his arms since he's a literal peanut statue that secretes poop (and blood I guess)

Your feelings for him

You began to realise you fell for him after someone had mentioned how often you visited the statue

Definitely would try to hide it, to begin with (Cuz it's odd that y'all be falling for a peanut statue)

But later on, you decide to drop hints about it to your crush, Peanut

He looked as if he was clueless

But he definitely has gotten the hint way before you even realised your feelings for him

Because you make him feel butterflies

If anyone tries to flirt with the statue, you would become furious (Cuz you paid for this statue)

Most likely would tease you at times

His Confession

Probably would plan it out

Which didn't work at all

So 173 would just do it out of the blue

To which you agreed of course (Cuz y'all need some Jesus! At least you weren't like Clef when he- nvm)

Definitely surprised the foundation as well since nobody has ever fallen for this statue before (Aside from Clef)

Some would give you both odd looks while others were more curious about your relationship

Probably would conduct tests between the both of you

Only because they want to see if 173's behaviour would change

Like if someone blinked while standing behind you

Date

Since the foundation doesn't let 173 out of his cell, most of your dates would be in there

173 would be similar to 035 since he's pretty chill and laidback

You both would be laying on the floor and looking up at the ceiling

Probably talking about a lot of BS

Probably would tell you his favourite method of killing (which totally isn't snapping necks)

You both would tell each other about your day and peanut would joke around a lot

Is rather sassy as well so if anyone judges, you can always count on 173 to save you

Most likely by snapping their necks

Or sassing them out to the point of no return

When he gets jealous

It's rare to see 173 jealous since he's quite laid back and doesn't really mind who you're with

If 173 does get jealous he would most likely snap their neck

Or just teleport behind you and just stare at whoever is hitting on you

Or he would bend down to their height (if they're short ofc) which does are them off quite a bit

Would definitely drag you back into his cell to which surprised the researchers

Because they found out that the cameras were working and they heard screaming coming near/from his cell

Peanut can be slightly possessive of you

Especially when he knows somebody is hitting on you on purpose regardless of whether they knew you were taken or not

Most likely would ask you who you are hanging out with and for how long

When there's a containment breach

There's a 50% chance that he caused the breach

Whether he did it or not he would look for you

As he's looking for you he would snap some necks

Even gave 682 a heart attack

More than once actually but we don't talk about that here (cuz that hurts 682's heart)

Could care less about every other SCPs/workers

If you were hurt peanut would hunt down whoever did it to you

Probably would stroll down the facility instead of teleporting

To which you giggled

The look on the researchers' faces when they saw 173 frolic across the hallway and back into his cell was priceless

You were even there to witness it and everyone looked at you like they've just seen a ghost

Yandere!173

Would lock you up in his cell

Probably would tie you up as well

Definitely would torment you by teleporting in front and away from you

Sometimes would blindfold you

Not even the researchers could get you out

They've even asked 131 for some help and it didn't work as effectively as they thought for whatever reason

If you somehow managed to escape your freedom wouldn't last long

173 would manipulate you to the point that you felt that there weren't any way out for you

So in the end, you just stayed in his cell (probably regretting life choices while you're at it)

At least he's nice enough to let you eat proper food served in the foundation (had to make that clear in case y'all didn't get the hint and thought he gave you smth else to eat)

His younger sister

You're both alike and very close indeed

The foundation was shocked at how alike you both were

And you both were inseparable

So every time there's a breach and they see either of you, they know the other is just around the corner

You both would be sassy, sarcastic and funny

The foundation would be entertained by your remarks

Although you may or may not snap necks like peanut, you do display some form of curiosity towards the foundation staff and the SCPs

Like that one time when there was a containment breach and you leaned in rather close to this rookie and he just screamed as he laid on the floor

He did get quite a lecture afterwards but you decided to just tease him whenever you both meet

When his kid says their name for the first time

Would be joyful af

Nobody would hear the end of it

Like imagine the last words you hear is 173 telling you how his kid spoke their name

Like it took them so long to just get the pronunciation right

Tries to get them to swear late on though

Much to your dismay

173 is a cool and laid back type of dad so you wouldn't have to worry too much when you're away

Unless it's about being a good influence then you should (Not that it matters anyway...)

Probably would teleport to whoever/whatever just tp tell them about it

Even bothered 682 to the point that the lizard begged the foundation researchers to remove either of them

When his S/O is angry

Would run/teleport 10000000000000000000 miles away

Especially if you're mad at him

Probably because he broke your favourite cup and didn't tell you about it because he know that your best friend gave it to you as a gift (Don't say y'all don't have friends)

Would try to calm you down after a while though

Which didn't work too well because you still wanted to rip his head off

If it was somebody else who made you mad he would probably be entertained

Unless it affects himself of course

Probably would try to hold you back and get you to calm down

In which you wanted to rip off his head as well which ended so well for peanut

If 173 cant run anywhere he would just hide in the corner and cry

Probably would as the researchers for some help as well

They don't because they don't want to die either

When someone tries to steal you away

When peanut finds out he would hunt down whoever tried to steal you without hesitation

Would snap his neck and everyone else who were involved or knows about it

Takes you back to his cell

Checks if you were hurt even though you were looking at the kidnapper's @ss

Would try to stay by your side at all times even though he knows he can't

Stares at the researchers every time they talk to you

If it was a D-class they would die in an instant

Has a burning hatred for certain kinds of people

When his Pregnant!S/O gets hurt by accident

Cries without a doubt

Would bandage you up without a doubt

Would cheer you up by doing weird dances and impressions

Most likely would tell you off as well but your puppy eyes get to him

So he would just take that back and just baby you

Would kneel down to talk to the unborn child about your bad behaviour

You swore you felt it kick

173 would get all excited and more protective than usual

Wouldn't let anyone near you unless you were going into labourr

Meeting a Fem!Dragon!Hybrid!Reader

Would be quite curious about you

Finds you rather cute because you're so pure, kind and small

Wants to adopt you without a doubt

The researchers would have mixed feelings about you being in the same cell as 173

Peanut was lowkey terrified when you breathed fire

Was somewhat ok with you crying lava and levitating objects for a bit

Somehow managed to get 343 and/or Scarlet King to help you improve your telekinesis

Definitely would play hide and seek with you and some others

They don't get a say otherwise peanut would snap their necks

When he accidentally kills you

It was when some guy unintentionally pushed you which angered 173

Like he teleported to him and his friends

You tried to explain but 173 didn't listen so he proceeds to snap everyone's necks

Trying your best to defend the poor guy, you stepped in front of them which lead to 173 snapping your neck as well

The guy was shocked but managed to run before anything happened

Word got around that 173 had snapped your neck and was now permanently depressed

Like, he stopped snapping everyone's neck for quite sometime

Felt so guilty that he went to 049 to see if he can fix you

But he wasn't able to so he went to SK and God

They were transported to another facility so they weren't able to do much for this statue

Yandere!173 x Evil!Reader

Not as dense as some of the other SCPs but 173 wouldn't have guessed that you worked for another GOI other than the foundation

Since you used your knowledge of 173 to your advantage, 173 would find out rather late

173 found out who you were working with since the late arrival of the Black Queen came by to collect you

173 would try and kidnap you back into his cell at the Foundation but failed miserably

Would try and warn the foundation but they couldn't get you back either

Since you were with the Black Queen, 173 was plotting to get you back without any distraction

The foundation realised how dangerous 173 has become and isolated him far from the other SCPs

At times, the foundation would use your name in order to get 173 to work with them which worked 50% of the times

Trying McDonald's Sprite

Would be confused about this 'Sprite' from McDonald's since he doesn't eat or drink anyways

173 would be rather curious about this beverage and does give it a try

Finds it tasty and you soon realise he has officially become a sweet tooth

Was probably a mistake but if you ever needed to bribe 173, get him some Sprite that's specifically from McDonald's

Like that one time you bought him Sprite from Tesco's, he said it tasted more disgusting and refused to finish the drink

You should probably give him some apple pies, pancakes and some other sweet stuff from McDonald's

Sometimes the foundation would even give him some Sprite whenever the cleaners are cleaning his cell

Would find it amusing that the only way to get him to stop snapping necks are Sprite

When his kids swear

Would 100% be ok with it

173 probably is the one who taught his child to swear

Probably would let them drink alcohol at a young age as well

Maybe around their teenage years, but would let them try a sip if they're under 10

Wouldn't even be mad if his kid swears accidentally

Peanut would most likely encourage it

Doesn't mind if his kid swears at others, but the others would probably complain

When Child!Reader scares him

Wouldn't be hard to scare 173 tbh because you're so small

You'd be running around and giggling while doing whatever

Until there's some silence

173 would probably brush it off at first until he didn't hear a sound for 20 minutes

Does check around his cell to make sure you're still there

Panics because he can't see you

Until he turns around and had a full-on heart attack because you jumped on him

The researchers definitely hear a screech coming from his cell

They all started laughing once they found out

When the reader pole dances/aerial silk dances

Very similar to 035

Would be in awe of you dancing for him

If you were pole dancing he would probably watch you with those eyes~

Most likely end up in you both performing in another activity

If you were aerial silk dancing, 173 would probably be amazed

Would try and dance with you but fails terribly

Because he keeps dropping like dead flies

Most likely broke his back

Sometimes the researchers wonder how it's even possible for 173 to break his "bones"

Having a Pregnant!S/O

Would crack a lot of dad jokes here and there

Follows wherever you go

Rubs your belly whenever he can

Definitely would make a full conversation with the unborn child

Sometimes would read stories that do make you feel sleepy

Does whatever you tell him to do

Cracks some necks if he can't give you what you need

Would cry whenever you have your mood swings

During labour, you grabbed his arm so hard that it almost broke him

When you try to commit suicide

Would teleport to your side at an instant

Wouldn't let you out of his sight ever again

173 would try to cheer you up which may or may not work

Definitely would kill whoever made you feel this way if any

Make you stay in his cell for a while

Maybe even permanently

Wouldnt let anyone touch you

If you had any scars 173 would cry

Peanut would try his best to stop you from feeling that way

Having a Hopelessly Romantic/Easily flustered GN!Reader

Would definitely tease you

173 would find it adorable that you fluster easily and is hopelessly romantic

I'd say he's pretty hopelessly romantic to a certain degree

Will kill if anyone teases you

Because your adorable flushed look is only reserved for him

Although he would tell all the other SCPs about you

049 and 035 get it the hardest but 035 is completely fine with it

049 would rather just stay in his cell than to hear 173 talk about you for 200 hours

Probably knows more about you than peanut himself

173 would boop your snoot whenever you have that cute look

When you're about to be executed - Yandere!173 x D-Class!Reader

173 would snap everyone's neck and kidnap you back to his cell

If anyone ever mentions your name, 173 would instantly snap their necks

And if they ever tried to find you, he would know and would hide you somewhere else

If you ever tried to flee, 173 would teleport to your side and bribe you to stay 'home'

By bribe, I mean he would force you to return by teleporting the both of you

If anyone sees the both of you, 173 would stalk them to no end

Would torture them if they were to tell the foundation about this

Not even the other SCPs could help

When you curl up in their lap

Would find you the cutest thing on Earth

Aside from 999 of course

If he's exhausted from doing nothing, he would probably just rub your head/back

Definitely would tickle you whenever he can

Finds it comforting when you do curl up in his lap

Thinks that you're so cute to the point that he would kill for you

When you kiss his neck

10000000000000% loves it

Would definitely be vocal because he has no shame

Most likely would ask you to do it again

Even if you were in the middle of talking to someone and they hear him

If you were in the mood, you could tease him with neck kisses for hours on end

Probably would ask you to move on to the next activity but you know he loves being teased

Then after that go back to cuddling

173 would scream but the last time that happened the whole foundation went deaf and you gave him the cold shoulder for a while

Definitely cried about that so he tries to restrain himself

But you feel bad so you just carried on

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jamespotterthefirst · 3 years

Text

For A Long Time Now (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 3

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)

Words: 2K

Warning: Implied adult situations

Premise: He can finally tell her the three words he meant to say for a long time.

Author’s Note: The non-premium Ethan love confession is supreme and nothing will convince me otherwise. This is named after it.

The bright beams of moonlight illuminated the small, charming bedroom when Ethan awoke. One glance at the digital clock on her bedside informed him it was almost two in the morning. With a sigh that sounded louder in the still darkness, he sank back into her pillows, his heart beating a content, steady beat at the prospect of having just a few more hours by her side.

A few hours, though a miserable consolation, were welcomed if it meant having her in his arms, peaceful and beautiful. Ethan glanced down at her, unable to avoid feeling awestruck. Her steady breath ebbed and flowed gently, caressing his skin as she slept against his chest, her ear pressed against the heart that beat for her. A few hours were a small but welcomed triumph.

Soon, dawn would break across the sky, announcing the beginning of a new day and bringing them closer to their inevitable end.

It was as though his misery was a force so strong, it pressed into her because at that moment, she stirred

“Mmmm.” She let out a small hum of protest twisting and tangling her limbs further in the sheets. When she opened her eyes, she blinked slowly at first then rapidly, pushing away sleep.

“Hi,” she greeted, her fogged expression melting into a tired but breathtaking smile.

“Hey,” he returned with a small smirk.

Lilac bit her bottom lip against a second smile, this one playful and coquettish. And just like that, they were drawn to one another again, plucking kisses with hot, languid strokes of their mouths. Their movements became slow, lazy, as though they had all the time in the world.

His heart ached when he realized how untrue that was.

Lilac, lips bruised from his kiss, beamed at him when they broke apart.

“Why are you awake this early? Don't tell me you actually get up at two in the morning to start your day.”

“Three thirty, actually.”

Lilac made a sound of faux disgust that made him laugh. “If you made me get up that early daily, I'd murder you.”

His stomach gave an involuntary swoop at the implication. She meant if they spent many nights together, not just one night before their return to attending and intern. If they woke up next to each other every morning, stealing kisses as they prepared for their day. If they had more than just mere hours left to be together.

Lilac seemed to catch the meaning of her words because she blushed. She opened her mouth, mortified, perhaps to dissuade the tension in the quiet bedroom with characteristic rambling. Ethan summoned a crooked smirk before she could get the words out.

“Not even if I woke you up to do this?”

In one graceful stroke of movement he had her on top of him, straddling his waist. His lips trailed slow, delicate kisses along her throat, inspiring the most delicious of moans. By the time he reached her jaw, she was breathless.

“Ethan,” she whimpered, begging him for more.

He was happy to oblige, fulfilling every one of her panting pleas until, with mingled cries and moans, they collapsed against the heap of pillows.

“You can absolutely wake me up like that in a few hours.” She snuggled against his chest as she said this, this time listening aptly to his frenzied pulse.

Ethan chuckled, pulling her close.

They remained silent for a moment, contently listening to the distant lull of the city. As his breath slowly returned to normal, his eyes scanned the space of her bedroom, taking in every detail he could commit to memory.

There were many pictures of whom Ethan assumed were her family—lively, kind-faced people, some who shared her same nose, others her smile, few her eyes. Then, in the many frames cluttering the desk, were the familiar faces of her friends, laughing and smiling in just as familiar places: Donahue's, the coast, even Edenbrook. For a wistful moment, he allowed himself to imagine a photo of the two of them framed and placed at her bedside. Lilac would be kissing his cheek and Ethan would fail to fight back a smile, no doubt looking the happiest he'd ever look in his life.

For a moment he imagined they were just Ethan and Lilac, not Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Allende.

A swirl of dark clouds slowly floated away, leaving the moon unobstructed.

In the full light of the moon, he realized they could be both. Ethan wasn't her direct supervisor. If he pulled some strings and asked another attending to be her supervisor, perhaps they could…

Lilac shifted slightly and hummed meekly, tilting her face up to him. “What are you thinking about?”

Her voice was thick with exhaustion, both from her trial earlier and from the celebration after.

Her lids appeared heavy with sleep, already halfway closed. Ethan almost chuckled at the sight, brushing a lock of hair away from her face.

“You.”

Lilac smiled despite the veil of sleep starting to overwhelm her, savoring the single word. With another small sigh, she snuggled against his chest, her hand sliding up to rest by his collarbone.

God, he loved it when she did that.

Ethan paused.

Love.

A foolish concept he once scoffed at or tried to explain away with scientific facts. Yet, he loved many things about her, he knew that as extensively as he knew medicine.

Ethan swallowed, fingers absently playing with her silky hair.

He loved her.

There was no point in denying what he had known for weeks, what he had felt since perhaps the moment she held his hand on the loveseat of the NICU. As he held her then, Ethan doubted that was an accurate estimate of when his feelings started. He was already in the middle by the time he was forced to accept the undeniable fact that he was in love with Lilac Allende.

I love you.

Thinking the words felt like an echo. Merely replaying them in his mind was no longer enough. Simply thinking them felt like a travesty, a complete lack of respect for the beautiful, brilliant woman in his arms. He had to say them, professionalism and propriety be damned.

He could figure the rest out later.

She had to know.

“Lilac?”

“Hmm?”

The sound was soft, distant. When he glanced down, she was asleep, breathing peacefully against his chest. With a sad but resigned smile, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead instead.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

II.

June and Baz filed out without a backward glance. Lilac, however, lingered behind as was her custom. Of that much, Ethan was certain before he even turned around to face her. His eyes locked with a pair of curious green ones and his stomach dove, an involuntary reaction to her.

“Can I help you with something, Dr. Allende?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “So formal,” she commented as she stepped into his embrace. “That's not what you called me last night.”

The false innocence she injected into that little whisper drove him insane. His fingers clenched her hips, wishing for nothing more than to fold her over his desk. Instead, he smirked down at her.

“I don't believe I called you anything last night.”

“Mmm, you didn't. You were too distracted making out with me. I doubt you could string two words together.”

Lilac kissed him again, this time taking great care to push her body against his. Ethan groaned into her mouth, convinced this type of torture was worse than any other. They had only shared hungry kisses on several occasions, but Ethan never allowed it to proceed any further, even if his body protested that decision often.

He didn't think he could bear the pain of separation when she inevitably moved on next year.

“Maybe I’ll let you call me that in bed,” she murmured.

Ethan groaned again.

Luckily for him, her pager interrupted their moment and Ethan was spared from making a fool of himself by trying to stammer out a reply. Lilac glanced down and sighed wistfully.

“I have to go,” she lamented, making little effort to move away. “They’re going to have the results for the Senator’s lead testing soon.”

Ethan barely heard her, too busy memorizing the curve of her lips, the cluster of freckles on her nose, the exact shade of forest green with flickers of gold from her eyes.

“Are we still doing dinner at your place tonight?” she asked, completely unaware of his lovestruck admiration. “You owe me that Gregorian stuffed chicken from last time.”

Overwhelmed, Ethan merely nodded.

With one last smile, she craned her neck to kiss him goodbye, her hand lingering on his jaw when they broke apart.

Ethan watched her approach the door, a sense of urgency gripping him. After everything they had been through that year, his heart beat just as relentlessly for her. That much was clear from their recent slip in conviction. If Ethan was being honest, his heart had never faltered once, not even when he tried to put distance between them by escaping to Brazil.

Every kiss since the one they shared outside his apartment was proof of one irrevocable truth.

He never stopped loving her.

He doubted he ever would.

“Lilac?”

“Hmm?”

She halted right as she reached the door, looking over her shoulder curiously.

I love you.

Ethan opened his mouth, throat straining against a sudden knot. Before the words formed, that constant, miserable thought pushed its way to the forefront of his mind.

She might leave at the end of her residency. She deserves the entire world at her feet and you could never tie her down.

“Ethan?”

“See you tonight.”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

III.

The real celebration occurred at Lahela's apartment later that evening. At least, that's what the surgeon deemed in a loud and almost incomprehensible cheer when they arrived. When his eyes landed on Ethan by Lilac’s side, however, a small moment of surprise pierced the silence, before he cheered louder than ever, proclaiming, “The Chief is here. Now, it's a real party!”

Ethan had to admit that this cohort of young doctors knew how to celebrate in style. It didn’t take long before they broke into the impressive selection of drinks at the kitchen counter. The only regrettable aspect of the whole affair was the music.

“Don Julio 1942, bitches,” Lahela proclaimed, brandishing two sleek bottles of tequila. He seemed to remember Ethan was in the room for he grimaced briefly. “Sorry, Dr. R!”

“The only thing you have to apologize for, Lahela, is taking so long to serve us our shots,” Ethan returned without missing a beat.

“Amen to that,” Lilac responded enthusiastically from his side.

After many rounds of high quality shots, their group grew in numbers as other hospital staff arrived and crammed the small apartment. Though no one excluded Ethan from their small cliques—quite the opposite, everyone was too eager to talk to the new Chief—he was happier observing from the sidelines.

No, he was happier observing her, laughing and celebrating with her friends, from afar. It was like being a spectator to the most beautiful and moving art piece he had ever seen. She deserved all the revelry and acclaim pouring over her that night. This was an exciting chapter in her life that she had fought hard to earn. Ethan did not believe the sun itself could contain the pride blooming in his chest.

After a couple hours, the late evening found Ethan at the terrace of Lahela’s apartment, a blanket of the deepest purple overhead.

“Too important to hang out with us plebeians now that you’re Chief of Medicine?”

It was Lilac, standing at the sliding door, cheeks flushed and smile radiant in the moonlight.

“That has literally never been true about any administrator,” he returned, though smiling just as brightly. He couldn’t contain the elation now that the floodgates had opened.

Their bodies found each other, as they always would, joining in an embrace. Ethan kissed her forehead, the movement something close to second nature. “I’d argue your new job is more worthy of such praise,” he murmured. With a small nod toward the party, he added, “And theirs.”

Lilac pulled her chin back to survey him with pride. “Spoken like a true leader.”

A rumble of collective groans and cheers erupted from inside the apartment as a new song blurred through the speakers.

“Bryce is on an eighties-only lockdown,” she explained with a laugh. “He does that when he’s had too much to drink.”

Ethan scrunched up his nose. “Then we got out just in time.”

Lilac laughed, the sound a comfort to Ethan. They stood there in each other’s embrace, overlooking the twinkling lights of the city, reminiscent of another time long ago on a different balcony. Even then, his heart beat fiercely, desperately for her. Back then, he fought so courageously (and foolishly) against the three words that seemed the only truth in the universe.

He didn’t have to deny himself of happiness anymore.

At long last, he didn’t have to fight them anymore.

“Lilac?”

“Hmm?”

She glanced up at him.

“I love you.”

Her smile rivaled the stars above their heads.

“I love you, Ethan,” she replied without hesitation.

He didn’t dare believe he could ever be happier. Then she kissed him, pouring her feelings into every movement of her lips, and he realized his happiness was boundless by her side. When they pulled apart, breathless and grinning like teenagers, Ethan let out a low chuckle.

“It’s an outrage to tell you that with Starship playing in the background.”

Lilac laughed, her eyes sparkling with unshed, happy tears. “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now is a fitting song if you think about it.”

Ethan made an exaggerated face of disgust that he was sure would make her laugh. Pure satisfaction coursed through him when it did.

“Luckily for you, you can tell anytime you want now,” she told him.

He kissed her again, spurred on by uncontained elation.

“You can rest assured I will.”

------------

Author’s Note: I am not okay after that confession. I had to write something. Part I takes place right after her trial in book 1; Part II is right before her attack in book 2; Part III after that confession kljdlkfk

A few notes:

I still plan to write for Lilac and Ethan as time and creativity allows. If anyone still wishes to read them, then they’ll be here for you <3. If anyone still wants OPH content, you can count on me for that. I don’t plan on letting go of this story for a while.

I’m going on a trip to the East Coast next week, including Boston (eeeek). I will leave a queue of random stuff but also two fics. One will be Chapter 1 of my OHTY Rewrite. The second will be a short ficlet I wrote a while ago

I am currently working on the next chapter of both Pictagram series. Hopefully I can post those when I come back!

Whether you leave the fandom or stick around (or something in between), I want to sincerely thank everyone who has supported this crazy journey of mine for the past year. Writing has always been my passion, but I stopped doing it for years before Open Heart. It was this book, these characters, and YOU who motivated me to write my little heart out. You guys gave me my happiness back and for that I am extremely grateful.

I love you guys!

*Tagging in a reblog*

#Open Heart #Ethan Ramsey #Ethan x MC #playchoices #Open heart: third year #OHTY

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heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a story where the reader and 2012 Leo are best friends and after Leo wakes up in the farm house he tells her that he doesn't think he's a good enough leader and she says something like "you'll always be good enough for me" and kisses him? Sorry if it sounds stupid

Not at all. I hope this lives up to your expectations. It’s a bit shorter, but I wanted to have it done for you ASAP, so here ya go.

‘He’s been working himself too hard.’

You rest your head on your knees, staring at the television. It is not your place to criticize him—people deal with these sorts of things differently, you know—but you cannot shake the feeling that there is something you can do to help him, if only somewhat. You have elected, for the most part, to stay out of it, to let his brothers help in his recovery, but…

You get up, shutting the television off.

It is about three in the morning. You spend a lot of nights up at odd hours, now. As much as you have come to love the guys—Leonardo in particular—you miss the privacy.

You hear a knock on the wall.

Your eyes shoot to the door, a hand going to your chest. “Leo.” You sigh, trying to remember how to breathe. Since you have known him, you have become infinitely more skittish.

“Oh, did I scare you?” He rubs the back of his neck, leaning into his cane. “Sorry. I thought I was the only one up.”

His voice is taking you a bit to get used to. It is not a downgrade, but it still feels strange, matching it with his face. At least the rest of his body—now covered in more little scars than you can count—matches his damaged larynx.

“N-not at all,” you lie. “Same here, actually.” Your fingers find the switch again. “Did you wanna-?”

“No, I’m alright.” He limps over, sitting down on the couch. “Were you going to bed?”

“Nah.” You sit down next to him. “Just zonin’ out.”

He pauses. “Can I talk to you about something, then?” His tone is oddly tentative as he leans back, sinking into the cushions with a gentle sigh.

You blink. “Of course, man.” You turn to face him properly. “What’s up?”

He looks straight ahead, apparently stealing himself.

“Leo,” you press gently, “is something up? Actually?”

He sighs. “Am I a bad leader?”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Am I a bad leader? Be honest.”

You try to think of how to answer that question properly.

“You think I am.”

“What brought this up?”

“Answer my question first.”

“Leo,” you say simply, “there is no possible way I could answer that question in a way that you would be happy with.” You take his hand, lowering your voice. “As your friend,” you promise, “you have my full support, but I need to know what brought this up before we proceed.”

He does not meet your eyes. He takes another breath.

“I failed you.” He says it simply, factually. “I failed my brothers, my sensei, you. You can’t say I didn’t,” he cuts your objection off calmly, “because you know that, if I were a better leader, we would still be in New York right now and they wouldn’t be miserable.”

You do not say anything. You keep holding his hand gently, letting him talk.

“If I were more forceful in my decision,” he goes on, “we would have all gotten out on our own terms, Splinter wouldn’t be…” He shakes his head.

His hand is trembling in yours.

“And,” he continues, “I know that the other guys think it too.” He leans forward, holding his head in his free hand. “I mean, look at me.” He chuckles half-heartedly. “I can’t even walk on my own, let alone lead a team.”

You let him finish, get it off his chest.

“I can’t go to the others about it; how could I?” He sits back up. “Honestly,” he shakes his head, “I shouldn’t even be talking to you about it.” He looks over at you. “You probably think I’m weak, right? I would if it were me.”

You look down at his hand in yours.

“Are you going to say anything?”

“Are you alive?”

He blinks, confused. “Huh?”

“Are you,” you repeat, “or are you not alive, sitting next to me on the couch?”

“Barely.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

He hesitates, then nods.

“Your brothers? Casey? Me? Are we all alive?”

“Master Splinter—”

“We aren’t talking about him right now,” you cut him off. “Are we alive or not?”

He nods again.

You pause, trying to phrase your next question correctly. “When we were being assaulted by the Kraang,” you ask, “who led them away?”

“Who got defeated by Shredder?”

“You mean the ninja master with decades of experience who needed to send an army before him so you were weak enough to get taken down by his best men, who you would’ve decimated otherwise?”

“You don’t—”

“I do,” you say determinedly. “Would a lesser leader have put himself in harm’s way for his team?”

“They’re my brothers.”

“So? Answer the question.” You hear your voice rise.

He pauses. “Selflessness doesn’t make a good leader.”

“You’re right.” You squeeze his hand, voice as firm as ever. “It’s a leader’s job to ensure the success and wellbeing of his team, which you did.” You put your hand up to stop him from denying the statement. “You did all this, might I add, while being actively targeted by two groups who, on paper, should dominate you in intelligence, wisdom, and resources. Logistically,” you conclude, “ we should be dead.”

You take a deep breath, softening your tone. “Do you know why we’re alive and talking right now?”

He does not say anything.

You reach over with your free hand, fingers tracing his jaw as you tilt his head to face you. “The reason,” you lock eyes with him, the only sounds either of you can hear being your voice and his breathing, “that we’re sitting on this couch, alive, is because you pushed us, because you lead us better than any man I can think of.”

“But Splinter—”

“Splinter is your senior by almost four decades,” you remind him simply. “You can’t account his failure to yourself.”

‘His eyelids look so heavy.’

“Stop doubting yourself.” You lean closer to him, sliding your thumb across his cheekbone, eyes grazing his features tenderly. “You haven’t the right.”

You do not remember who leans into who.

You feel his fingers lace with yours as your lips meet, the contact soft, gentle. His free hand rests gently on your hip as you feel his lips curl upwards.

Your own lips tingle as you pull away, your face flushing as you feel your breathing deepen. His face is similarly pink, a bashful smile gracing his face as you brush the hair out of your eyes.

“Thank you,” he breathes. “For everything.”

You offer a shy smile in return. “Don’t mention it, man.” You clear your throat, placing your hands on your lap. “I should—uh—probably get to sleep.”

He nods, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah,” he sighs. “I think I’ll sleep out here tonight.”

You stand up. “Want me to turn the TV back on?”

“I’m good.” He looks up at you. “Y/N?”

You raise your eyebrows, ignoring your pounding heartbeat. “Yeah?”

“Was that…”

“Out of pity? No, it wasn’t.” You kiss the top of his head as you walk past. “Sweet dreams, Leo.”

He feels his face become hotter still as he watches you leave, licking his lips absentmindedly.

He feels his smile widening. ‘What a girl.’

List of Works

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt x reader #tmnt leo x reader #2012 leo #leonardo #leo x reader #teenage #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #hurt/comfort #x reader #reader insert #self insert #reassurance

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stellocchia · 3 years

Text

Here’s an analysis of the “Tommy’s Plan To Kill Dream” stream (part 1)

I noticed that my “overly long” analysis always tend to be about extremely depressing streams, so here’s me trying to change that and failing miserably because I can find angst literally everywhere!

As usual I’ll be talking about the characters only unless stated otherwise from here on out.

The whole thing is under the cut because, as the name of this “series” suggest, I’m phisycally incapable of keeping things short

Before we proceed with the analysis we need a quick overview of Tommy’s relationship with the people he interacts with this stream so that we can all start with the same mindset:

Tommy & Tubbo: They have obviously been very close friends since the beginning but recently Tommy has developed a sort of dependence on Tubbo which really isn’t healthy. This of course is a direct result of his second exile and his mindset moving forward after that. While with Dream and then Techno Tommy was extremely isolated and made to depend entirely on the one person providing for him. He continued this even after Doomsday, this time developing an extreme dependence on Tubbo that culminated with the line “What am I without you?” (basing your entire identity around someone else is not healthy, who’d have thought?). With the developing of the hotel post-finale he expands his system of support to include Sam and Sam Nook, but this is of course ruined with the prison arc. Tommy doesn’t trust Sam any longer and, while he still cares deeply about Sam Nook, he’s not someone that can give him emotional support. So he went back to rely soley on Tubbo (though it’s obvious throughout the stream that he’s tentatively doing so with Ranboo as well)

Tommy & Ranboo: The two of them used to be sort of close before Doomsday, Ranboo still very much admiring Tommy and considering him a friend. Thet said Ranboo is not in the very small circle of people who Tommy trusts and finding him married to his best friend and moving in together with a child didn’t help his perception of him. He feels replaced by Ranboo and sort of feels like he “stole” the only system of support he had that he could count on. Though there is a beginning of change throughout the stream.

Tommy & Ghostbur: Their relationship is really interesting. Tommy is pretty obviously one of Ghostbur’s unfinished businesses (possibly the only one now that L’Manburg is gone) and most definitely his priority. He was the only one who offered to go with Tommy during exile and he tried to be there for him constantly. Even his return this time was Tommy-motivated as we know from what he said in Ranboo’s stream. Meanwhile Tommy’s feelings on him are very complicated. He swings between recognizing that Alivebur and Ghostbur are different entities to conflating them together any time he has a strong reminder of Alivebur (at the beginning of exile and after spending time with Void!Wilbur for example). He also has only very recently come to the full realisation that Wilbur was awful to him and that their relationship was definitely not healthy (something we can infer from him finally taking a stance on not wanting him back and him admitting that Wilbur is good at manipulating him).

Now that that’s done, let’s get into the analysis!

“Oh I forgot I died, didn’t I?” So, Tommy is in a very peculiar situation where he has to somehow process his own death and, at the moment, he’s still in a state of denial about it. He knows he died but he acts like he didn’t in the sense that he hates how it affects his life. He doesn’t want people to treat him any different (even though he IS different), he doesn’t want to acknowledge the changesto the world nor to his relationships, which is the reason why he dislikes the statues of himself so much (that and the fact that he simply never liked to have statues of him). They act as a constant phisycal reminder of what happened to him and, more importantly, how much things changed in his absence.

One other reason why change scares him so much it’s because of how often he’s alienated from the world around him. He spent more time in exile/prison then in his own home since L’Manburg got it’s independence. He is constantly forced to live in an isolated bubble while the world around him moves forward and then, when he gets thrown back in he is never really given much time to adapt and catch up before he is thrown once more into the role of the hero/villain that he despises (after the 16th for example he was painted as a liability at his first mistake and put on trial etc despite how much he did for the country. Again after Doomsday he had the Dream fight to think about and, after that, Sam Nook asked him again to be the hero against the Egg and he, once again, was villanized by the Team Rocket. Now again he finds himself in the position where he has to take action against Dream once more).

So the stream really starts with Tommy deciding to contact Tubbo to get some help in his plan to kill Dream. He heads to Snowchester to do so (stopping before that to build Sam Nook a little wooden platform to keep him out of the rain).

On the way to Snowchester he gets trapped in the tunnel and almost drowns, making him break the glass of the tunnel. This is triggering for him for a couple of reasons (aside from drowning generally being not pog): exile reminder of his waking up drowning every day and taking damage in general seems to be a reminder of his death (he also seems to be hypersensitive in general in regard to phisycal sensations)

The whole mansion scene is a further indicator of this new dynamic between Tubbo, Ranboo and Tommy. Tubbo and Ranboo grew extremely close as we know (got married for tax benefits, adopted a child together and, apparently, canonically fell in love after) and they are planning to move in together with their son in the mansion. This, once again, all happened while Tommy was locked in prison. The feelings of alienation for him in the situation are prevalent together with his jealousy at Ranboo as he perceives him as his replacement.

“You married someone without me- without my permission?” “Okay, can I have your permission?” “Does he make you happy?” “Yes” “then ye- okay” Just... I’m a softie and I think that it’s very sweet that his only requirement to give his blessing is Ranboo making Tubbo happy. We stan a unconditionally supportive friend!

“Ranboo listen, let me open up to you pal! I- I’ve been through a pretty rough time recently and- (”Yeah I can tell”) and I know that we were kind of close before I went into prison, but then you ki- Tubbo would you mind looking at that flower a bit more? You kinda stole my best friend, and that’s kinda- you know now I feel kind of very lonely- actually feel very lonely” “I didn’t steal...” “And my other friend who then turned out to be my enemy is actually dead. So I’m kinda feeling a little bit left out here, and considering I was locked in a prison for 4 weeks...” “Yeah, no, I mean... I didn’t- I didn’t steal...” “No no no no, you did, you did, didn’t you? You did!” That was a big piece of dialogue there to transcribe! Regardless Tommy doing my job for me here by literally spelling out for us how he feels about Ranboo. One thing to be noted though is that Ranboo remains calm and keeps an understanding attitude in all his interactions with Tommy. He constantly tries to be reasonable (trying to explain that he didn’t “steal” Tubbo as, you know, he has his own free will and can have more then one friend) and generally just doesn’t get mad. Keeping a non-confrontational attitude is probably the best thing he could have done here.

So after that exchange Tommy opens up to them a bit about Dream, explaining what he’s planning.

“The revive book is too much and he (Dream) is too powerful and he’s only gonna use it for evil now! He is an evil man and he used it- he used ME to prove a point and to experiment on me” “Oh my God, like a lab rat!” “Like a- like a- worse then a lab rat! A lab- a lab sock!” “A lab sock?! No!” “Oh God!” “Oh my God” This is the first time in the conversation where Tommy’s gone more in depth about his traumatic experience (though he did mention before that “Dream asked him about it” in reference to his revival). It’s honestly a really big positive that he’s opening up to someone, even if it is other two teenagers who can’t do much but be sympathetic to him.

“I think it’s good. You don’t actually know this but I’ve been- I’ve been collecting some data, but, honestly... I’m not sure is a too good of an idea” “You said it was good” “No no no, I didn’t mean it was good in the sense of we should-” “Ranboo’s changed you, Ranboo’s changed you! He’s manipulating you! He’s manipulative and controlling” So 2 things to unpack here:

1) Tubbo hesitance comes from both him being on his last life and how things went during the season 2 finale. He isn’t too optimistic about their chances of killing Dream (even with Dream being completely unarmed in the prison) and he’s also less passively suicidal then he was during the finale, probably because he managed to build a life for himself now. He has a home, a family and Snowchester, he doesn’t wanna loose those.

2) Because of very obvious reasons (Wilbur being abusive, Dream being abusive, Techno isolating and manipulating him and then siding with his abuser and Sam betraying his trust) Tommy views all relationships aside from his with Tubbo in a negative lense. Basically he has HUGE trust issues and he’s so used to his relationships having usually some degree of manipulation (exept for Sam, who still entirely broke his trust. Also recently found out Jack had been lying and trying to kill him as well, which probably didn’t help the issue) that he just assumes that must be the case for Tubbo and Ranboo as well. Both of them of course are fast to correct him on this as that’s really not the case.

“So why don’t you want him to bring Wilbur back now? What suddenly changed?” “I spent months in the death... area- let’s call it ‘the death zone’, with Wilbur alright?” “The death zone?” “I spent months there. I spent months and months and months there and I was only there for a few days, Wilbur’s been there for real months. He is so different and he is fucking powerful and you know how he molds me like a piece of clay, Tubbo. (hushed) I don’t want him to come back” So here we have Tommy’s admission to Wilbur’s manipulation and how effective it is on him (most probably because of how close they used to be). We also have another hint about how dangerous Wilbur is now because of the knowledge he acquired.

“In the mean time we also... unless we don’t kill Dream... we gonna have to stop Technoblade, ‘cause Technoblade owes him a favour” “Stop Technoblade?” “Technoblade owes him a favour and we can’t let him redeem it” When Tommy mention’s Techno, Tubbo immediately becomes even MORE hesitant about this whole thing (probably a mix of his death-related trauma, Techno exploding his nation twice and his most recent inquisition venture in Snowchester).

“So why don’t we try to block Dream’s communication with Technoblade? ‘Cause then Technoblade would have no idea how to... redeem... the favour” “He can bring back the dead Tubbo, we need him DEAD! He’s too powerful for this server’s good and he’s a bad man and he won’t use his powers for good. And it’s not even-” “Mmmmh” “What do you mean ‘Mmmh’ Man?!” “I don’t know this really- this didn’t go too well for us last time we got all hyped up and tried to do this” Tubbo once again is mostly apprehensive because of how things went last time they were up against Dream. He also tried proposing an alternative solution to fighting that Tommy shoots down because he doesn’t think anyone should have the power that Dream has. Also, may I add that Ranboo is actually on Tommy’s side on this whole thing? Possibly because he knows as well how dangerous Dream still is.

“Just because he’s locked up doesn’t mean his strenght is, allright?” This basically perfectly sums up the crux of the issue. Of course thanks to Quackity’s lore we know that Dream’s power now is mostly a facade, but they don’t know this. To them Dream is just as powerful now as he was before. To them the image of powerlessness that the prison gives him is the facade.

That said the conversation in the electric chair tower ends here and, as this is already so incredibly long, I’ll also end part one of the analysis here. This was also the most lore-heavy part as the rest is more light-hearted so it’ll probably be faster to cover.

#tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #ghostbur #dream smp #tw abuse #tw manipulation #analysis #character analysis #I truly WOULD have mad it all one post #but this is already absurdly long as is...#and as I said this was the more lore-heavy part #so the split fits well #long post #but you knew that already #my post

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doiefy · 3 years

Text

paper stars // kim doyoung

genre: fluff pairing: doyoung x gn reader word count: 1.2k warnings: language, spoilers for at dawn (would recommend reading it first, or i’ll just tell you who the killers were hehe)

just a short, fluffy headcanon i couldn’t stop thinking about at 3 am, in which doyoung can’t do origami to save his life and reader is stressed for their life. thank you yves for the idea <33

@neonun-au, as promised!! will also be working on a crack fic for the rest of the characters at some point :D

“You’re surprisingly really bad at this.”

Doyoung sits across from you, his face scrunched up in concentration, stormy eyes filled with nothing but determination as he watches the YouTube tutorial again. He holds the piece of red paper up, his gaze flitting between the origami star on screen and his own handiwork: a sad, unevenly-edged pentagon that folds in on itself when he tries to proceed to the next step. He lets out a frustrated groan, crumpling the paper into a little ball and flicking it off the table like it’s an insect intruding on your time together.

“This is impossible,” he grunts, spinning his chair around like a little kid. When he finally stops, it’s to stare begrudgingly at the jar of origami stars on your desk—a little keepsake of yours that Doyoung’s taken an interest in lately. Quite frankly though, his mission to fill up the last quarter of the jar with shiny stars has been miserable. Though bright-eyed and determined at the very beginning, his resolve is starting to crumble, evident in his failed attempts thrown all over your living room. It’s starting to get a bit ridiculous.

You push your work to the side, snatching the second piece of crumpled paper out of his hands before he can chuck it across the room. “So you’re telling me that you have six PhDs and can solve almost any homicide case in an hour, but you can’t do a kids’ arts and crafts project?”

Doyoung gawks at you. “First of all, I don’t have a PhD in paper crafts, and I don’t solve homicides by folding paper.” He reaches for his phone to rewind the video, then picks up a fresh strip of paper. “Second of all, kids?! A kids’ arts and crafts project? Origami was a prestigious ceremonial practice back in the day—”

“Yeah, and my seven-year-old niece can fold a better paper airplane than you. You’re like, ten times her age,” you joke. He gives you a wounded look from across the table.

“I’ll do it,” he murmurs beneath his breath as he loops the strip around his fingers. “I’ll get it eventually.”

You can’t help but giggle at the way his eyes take on a strenuousness you only ever see at work: the furrowing of his brow and steadiness of his hands whenever he’s deep in thought, trying to crack a case. But you suppose making paper stars is his case to crack tonight. The type of paper, how tightly he winds the strip, the crispness of the folds—he’s subconsciously turned the whole ordeal into an unsolvable mystery instead of just folding the damn paper.

“How are your revisions coming along?” Doyoung asks, and you look back down at your screen. The words of your report are starting to crawl off the screen, shifting in so many directions at once like they're trying to escape your eyes. You sigh.

“I hate going to hearings.” You rub at your eyes tiredly. “The evidence is solid, indisputable probably. But you know what defence attorneys are like. They'll probably pull something out of their asses tomorrow and I don’t know if I’ll be ready for that.”

“Who’s defending?”

You flip through your papers to check. “Byun Baekhyun. Some new guy… Park Chan-something.”

“Byun?” Doyoung questions with a raise of his brow, now setting down his origami to give you his full attention. “I thought he and Lee got into some serious trouble after Seo’s case?”

“That crafty little fucker never gives up,” you groan, and now it’s your turn to slump in your chair, defeated. “He got his name cleared in December and I’m gonna bet he has something up his sleeve for tomorrow. He always does.”

Doyoung reaches across the table to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. And when that doesn’t seem to alleviate any of your stress, he rolls his chair over to where you’re sitting, readjusts his glasses and leafs through a few of your papers. His arm comes around your waist when you drop your head onto his shoulder, and he pulls you a little closer to him while he reads.

“Taeyong’s getting what’s coming for him,” he says at last, gesturing at your carefully-prepared notes and the speech you’ve started typing out on your laptop; while you don’t intend on memorizing everything you’ll say, writing it down definitely helps. “Whether or not you’re confident in what happens tomorrow, they can’t let him walk. They won’t. Just give them your statement… and don’t overthink it.”

Still, despite his words of encouragement, you can manage only a sigh before curling up closer to him and burying your face in the soft fabric of his sweater. He smells like lemongrass and lavender, and a hint of the delicate floral notes you’ve learned are unique to the FVA house—they remind you of the candles in the room where you first met, the library you spend nearly all your time in whenever you visit, the shirts he occasionally allows you to steal from his wardrobe. And as comforting and grounding as it is, having him next to you, your skin is still crawling with anticipation for tomorrow.

Almost six months after Nakamoto Yuta’s arrest, the investigations at LTY have finally come to an end, and with enough to lock Taeyong away. If only it were as easy as throwing his pretentious ass into a prison cell and throwing the key into the Han River; if it were as easy as skipping testifying in court. Jaehyun will be suffering alongside you, but at least he’s good at public speaking. You, on the other hand, always feel like a hot mess of fumbling words and unsatisfactory arguments—contrary to the opinion of all your colleagues.

“There’s no need to be so nervous,” Doyoung says softly, pulling you away from your anxieties and back into his arms. “I’ve heard you speak at hearings, and you’re always much more well-spoken than you think. You were amazing at Yuta’s.”

“Gross. We don’t talk about him,” you grunt, making a face at your new coffee table. Doyoung gives a laugh, pressing his lips to your forehead in gentle apology.

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I mean it, you were good.” He glances at his failed stars. “Some might even say… stellar.”

You flush with embarrassment and swat him away, pushing his chair back to the other end of the desk so you can get back to work without distraction. “Okay, back to your stupid stars. They’re not gonna fold themselves, you know.”

He throws one at you.

The next morning, you find a neatly-folded star in the pocket of your dress pants—perfectly puffed up, perfectly cornered, with a lopsided smiley face drawn on one side. There’s a small arrow drawn where one edge of the paper disappears into another. Confused, you unravel the star to find a quick message scribbled along the length of paper:

Be clear, concise. Relax. Don’t slouch.

“You ready?” At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you slip the paper away, accept the cup of coffee he offers you. Despite how early it is in the morning, he looks energized, determined. You focus on that, readying yourself with the words Doyoung left in your pocket and his encouragement the previous night. You nod, smiling.

“Yeah. Let's get this fucker.”

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Pacemaker

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Let me be clear: this is a very dark narrative. I have lots of warnings for my readers, including explicit smut, vulgar language, toxic relationships, voyeurism, choking, sadism, smoking, and drinking.

Word Count: 8.2K

Genre: Sugar Daddy AU; Established Relationship

Summary: Y/N had made a lot of bad decisions throughout her life, but signing up for that stupid Sugar Daddy website? The worst of them all.

A/N: The title makes more sense in the end, but I can tell you that pacemaker’s are used to control arrhythmia's - and Seungmin might just function that way for the reader! Also, I’m really sorry for making Chan such an asshole.

Seungmin was a good best friend, even if he was determined to ruin his lungs with expensive cancer sticks.

I had once tried to help him break the bad habit - stealing the cigarette boxes that he bought from the store and tossing them into the trash. But Seungmin made it rather difficult to break his addiction, and when I found him digging through the trash one evening, trembling fingers bringing the lighter up to his lips, I stopped trying to help him. And it might seem like a shitty thing for a best friend to abandon, but I was really tired of seeing my efforts die in vain when Seungmin made it loud and clear that he wasn’t willing to relent.

However, I was probably the worst person in the world to preach against his vices, especially when mine were far more consequential. Ironically, if I was to compare our biggest slights, then I might find a lot of similarities between our horrible habits. For instance, we were both prisoners to something toxic, and it was hard to push out those dark shadows when they had already snuffed out most of the light.

But at least Seungmin still had some control over his autonomy whereas I had allowed a single man to dictate every aspect of my existence. He decided the clothes that I would wear to his fancy office, and the things that I was allowed to do to my own person. He enacted so many rules that I could barely keep up with them, and he frequently reminded me that I was supposed to comply with whatever he demanded because I signed a foolish contract.

In the end, it was my fault for becoming so involved, but I could always rely on Seungmin for companionship when I felt another bout of existential dread. Because Seungmin was a good listener, and he made an effort to understand my problems even when he didn’t agree with my decisions. It was one of the things that I liked most about him, and I watched him with indifferent eyes as he stomped out his cigarette against the sidewalk.

Thereafter, his breath vaporized against the frigid air, and it was the only reminder that it was cold because my body had already grown numb to the sensation. “What happened this time?” Seungmin asked, raising a brow in question.

It was a deceivingly simple question because there was no straightforward answer that I could offer him in response. Instead, I shrugged while trying to collect my thoughts. Because I still wasn’t really sure how I felt about my latest rendezvous with him, but I knew for certain that it had affected me more than the other times.

“It was different,” I replied, and Seungmin nodded.

“Did he hurt you?” Seungmin asked.

“Yes, but not the kind of hurt that you’re thinking about,” I said.

“Well, that’s still fucked up,” Seungmin said. “Tell me everything.”

Oh, but there was so much to tell him, and my mind instantly brought me back to the very beginning when I signed my name on a contract that promised so much only to deliver nothing but pain.

Six Months Ago

The worst decision of my life was predicated on my desperation for cash, and I was almost at the point where I would do anything to see another zero on my bank statement.

When I first moved to California, I had a lot of big dreams, and I was so excited to secure a scholarship to a highly-accredited University. It seemed that the world was finally on my side, and I left my home on the east coast to start a new life with more opportunities. Everything was going according to plan, and there was nothing preventing my success.

Except for me, of course.

And it happened during the events of a single evening when I decided to attend a fraternity party on campus that my roommate recommended. The music was loud, the alcohol was unlimited, and any prior inhibitions had been thrown out the window much to my own detriment. I forgot all about my responsibilities, and I made one careless decision after another until I ended up in bed with a stranger.

I don’t even remember his name, but he was just one of the students who got busted by the police that night. Apparently, someone next door ratted us out, and they discovered a bunch of under-age students drinking alcohol without any supervision, including myself. But when the University found out, my scholarship was taken away, and my parents refused to send me extra money for tuition because they were determined to bring me back home.

But I wasn’t about to let one night ruin everything, and it was my roommate’s idea to suggest the stupid website. “It’s like a Sugar Daddy thing,” my roommate giggled. “All you have to do is sign-up, and then they’ll email you if there’s any interest.”

“Interest?”

“Well, they’ll probably want something from you in exchange for money.”

“How much money?”

“I guess that’s up to you to decide.”

Tragically, I was too desperate to consider the consequences, and I signed up without even thinking about the potential for disaster. And within a week, I got several emails from old misers offering me loads of cash in exchange for services that ranged from a private escort request to more explicit favors. But none of them stood out to me, especially in comparison to the young CEO who claimed to only be 28-years-old, but I could hardly believe his profile.

Still, I decided to entertain him, and I organized a meeting at a neutral location just in case anything funny happened. But I was still shocked to see the same man from the pictures waiting for me inside the coffee shop. And he was just as handsome as he appeared online: long, curly blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and a broad smile that took my breath away.

“Y/N?” he asked when I cautiously approached the table.

“Mr. Bang Chan?” I returned, and he laughed while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal strong, muscular arms.

“That’s me,” he said. “You can sit down if you want.”

“Of course,” I said, feeling rather foolish after standing there for so long. “I’m sorry, but I was really surprised because I honestly thought you might by lying about your age.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked, and I easily detected an accent carrying his words.

“Uh, considering the circumstances,” I said with a wince. “I feel like you could have any woman you want.”

“Oh?” Chan asked while raising one brow suggestively. “Maybe I just want you.”

“R-really?” I stuttered while wondering if I had made a good decision when I wore a skirt that afternoon. “You can probably tell that I’ve never done this before.”

“That’s alright,” Chan reassured me. “I don’t have much experience either.”

It seemed too good to be true - like there wasn’t any logical explanation for why this incredibly sexy businessman had signed up for some Sugar Daddy website when all he had to do was blink in my direction and I was already falling for him hard. “So, I guess you expect something from me.”

“I like how you do business,” Chan remarked. “We can skip all the formalities, then?”

“If you want,” I said, still feeling a bit sheepish as I glanced down at the table.

“From you, Y/N,” Chan continued. “I want a partner.”

“In what sense?” I asked. “Are you talking about something...sexual?”

“I’d really like that,” Chan said with a seductive smile. “But only if you’re interested.”

“Definitely,” I quickly agreed, throwing all caution to the wind as I surrendered to his ridiculous charisma.

“In return, you can have whatever you want,” Chan said. “Money isn’t an issue for me.”

“I really just need money for my tuition.”

“Is that all?” Chan scoffed as if he was in disbelief. “There’s got to be something else.”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering why it was so hard to ask him for those extravagances when the entire premise of our meeting rested on the basis of one exchange for another. “My apartment,” I said. “I plan to get a job in the future, but I’m struggling with rent.”

“Fuck the job,” Chan said. “I don’t mind paying your rent.” He smirked as he leaned back against the booth with a sigh. “I used to be a college student, Y/N, and I had problems paying for those things too.”

His attitude was nothing but nonchalant, and our terms were settled without a single complaint. Eventually, the deal was finalized when I met him later that evening at his lavish penthouse apartment, signing my name at the bottom of an exclusive contract that I hadn’t even taken the time to read.

“It’s done,” Chan declared, and I watched his forearms bulge as he applied pressure to the official stamp. “We can have some fun together,” he added, and the look he gave me was nothing short of predatory. “Tell me, Y/N. Are you a virgin?”

“No, sir,” I said, watching him throw the contract aside onto the coffee table.

“Good,” he purred while slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you take birth control? I hate fucking with condoms.”

“Yes,” I whispered, and there wasn’t an ounce of shame in my entire being when I studied the hard planes of his upper torso once his chest was exposed to the room.

Did I really just a sign a deal with a real-life Adonis?

“I’m gonna have a taste of that sweet cunt tonight,” Chan said, and one hand palmed himself over the front of his pants. “Bend over the couch for me, and keep your legs spread.”

“O-okay,” I agreed, hesitating because I wasn’t expecting him to move so fast, but I also knew that it was a foolish thought. What else should I have anticipated? There’s only one thing he wanted from me, and it’s not like it proceeded a romantic dinner or a long walk on the beach.

But it was still jarring to feel someone else’s hands on my hips - someone older and far more experienced. And his hands were proof of that confidence, perfectly assured in their motions as they drug my panties down my legs, fingers prodding against the folds of my labia. “You’re not wet enough,” Chan remarked, and I blushed because I was afraid that I had been doing something wrong. “We’ll just use lube.”

I flinched when I heard a loud POP! echo throughout the room when he opened a bottle from behind me. Then, I startled when something cold penetrated between my thighs because I wasn’t used to the overbearing sensation, and the flex of his fingers were incredibly thorough as they explored the private walls stretched around his intrusion. It felt nice, though, feeling him moving around, brushing against sensitive zones that had me moaning against the cushions.

“What a good slut,” Chan said, and I found myself whimpering at the derogatory term. “Let me use my cock instead.”

I gasped when his fingers disappeared in the middle of my approaching orgasm, leaving me clenching desperately for something to fill up the places that had left empty. But the sound of Chan shuffling out of his pants was reassuring, and he was nothing but teasing when he slid the head of his cock up and down my entrance. Spreading his pre-cum while prodding against me with the tip of his erection.

If I hadn’t been wet before, then I was positively drenching from the surprisingly playful foreplay. “Please,” I whined, and he must’ve been feeling merciful since it was our first meeting because he pushed himself the rest of the way inside between my walls with a grunt. Satisfying that persistent ache which demanded some sort of satisfaction from the fat cock splitting me with every aggressive plunge against my g-spot.

“There we go,” Chan hissed, and his fingernails dug into my skin while he rolled my hips back onto his cock - repeating the motion with a sensual rhythm that was slow but fulfilling. Deep and full. Pounding into my hips with every thrust and chanting obscenities into the air while the smell of sex hit me with as much force as his thighs knocking against mine. “Feels so good around me.”

I moaned at his husky tone, and slid further down the armrest of the couch because my clit was rubbing deliciously against the furniture that he had bent me over, and I focused on the addicting friction and the impression of his cock drilling inside my pussy until I came with a loud moan.

“Shit,” Chan cursed when I clenched even tighter around him, and the pleasure was like a dramatic rise - a climactic high - and I fell back into the moment with my heart pounding against my chest while Chan continued to plummet his cock into the stimulated entrance of my cunt before I felt his cum trickle down the inside of my legs.

“Good girl,” Chan said, and he landed a sharp slap to my ass before he was walking out of the room, stuffing his cock back into his pants while I looked down at my hands and wondered what I was supposed to do next.

And several long minutes passed before I realized that Chan wasn’t coming back, and I tried to ignore the sensation of his cum drying on my skin as I pulled my skirt back on over my sore hips.

Is this how it would be every time?

I grimaced at the thought, but I knew it was still a better alternative than returning home to my disappointed parents. Because Chan would at least help me stay in school, and he wasn’t really asking for that much in return.

Right?

But my heart was aching when I left his penthouse around midnight, returning to the shared apartment with my roommate and slinking into the shower while doing my best to remain quiet. Unfortunately, my thoughts were starting to become more rampant - louder than the prevailing silence - and I couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter with Chan. Because it was the second time that a random stranger had fucked me without consideration, and I would never forget how I felt in that moment, scalding my skin under hot water while scrubbing insistently with my fingernails scratching across my arms.

And I went to sleep that night thinking about the future for the first time since I lost my scholarship. For instance, how long would I have to keep doing this? Can it really end after my graduation?

Needless to say, I was unable to reacquaint myself with the familiar comforts of sleep, and I woke-up the next morning feeling like a much weaker version of myself. It was both a literal and metaphorical description for my current state of mind and physical being, and I forced myself to endure my regular routine so that I could leave for class on time.

But even as I was starting to feel better again, savoring the cool air of the morning as I walked through campus, everything was ruined when I received an unanticipated phone call from Chan around lunchtime:

“Can you come into my office today?” Chan asked, and I checked my watch.

“I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Perfect,” Chan said, and I hung up the phone before jogging to the bus stop.

The Voyeur

Chan’s office building was extravagant, and I had trouble finding his company because it seemed like there was no end to the numerous corridors. Thankfully, a polite worker was willing to steer me in the right direction, and I greeted Chan’s secretary with a nervous exhale of my name.

“He’s waiting for you inside,” she said with a bright smile. “But make sure to lock the door behind you.”

“Oh, sure,” I said, puzzled by the strange request, but I entered the room with a dismissive shrug, glancing back to turn the lock before stumbling in my steps when I realized that someone who was not Chan stood in the middle of the room.

He was a younger associate, and his hair was slicked back with some kind of product as he observed me with the faintest hint of a smirk. “You must be Chan’s newest plaything.”

I gasped at the stranger’s words. “Chan-” I attempted to call for him, but cold fingers wrapped themselves around my throat in warning.

“Shhh,” Chan whispered into my ear, and I trembled when one of his hands went down to the waistband of my skirt. “You’re right on time, Y/N.”

“Sir,” I said, trembling when he found my clit through the fabric, applying rough circles with a growl.

“Go sit on top of the desk for me,” Chan said. “Take off your skit and panties.”

“But there’s someone else-”

“Did you not hear me?” Chan interrupted, and there was an intimidating warning in his eyes that I found myself unable to ignore.

“Yes, sir,” I said in compliance, and I tried not to think about the situation unfolding in front of me. Instead, I carefully walked around the unfamiliar man without making eye contact, even though his gaze was focused on me the entire time. “Is this what you wanted me to see?” the newcomer asked, and I startled at the sound of his voice as I slipped out of my clothes.

“I think she’s your type,” Chan said, and he nonchalantly strolled through the room with his hands tucked into his pockets. “This is what you like, Jisung? Sit back and relax.”

Jisung pursed his lips as he found a comfortable position on one of the futons, and I gasped when I realized that he had unzipped his pants, fishing out his cock while casually stroking the full length of his erection, gaze fixed on the place where Chan was standing in front of me.

“Bend over, whore,” Chan growled, and I turned around in an instant, shivering when he forced my legs to spread even further apart, applying pressure to my lower back as I arched even higher for him. “Have you ever seen a prettier cunt?”

“Finger her for me,” Jisung requested, and I closed my eyes when Chan penetrated three fingers inside at once. Because it was a distant shout from his treatment the previous night, and I found myself enduring the pain from being aggressively handled.

“Is this to your satisfaction?” Chan asked, and he was moving lightning fast, thrusting his fingers so fast that my body wasn’t sure how to process the rapidly growing pressure building with every curl of his wrist.

“Fuck her then,” Jisung said, and I could hear the slick sound of his hand moving on his cock to match the pace of Chan’s motions inside of me.

“No problem,” Chan said, and his cock replaced his fingers with one harsh plunge, forcing my hips to collide with the side of his desk as he started an unrelenting pace, hands holding tight to my waist as he treated me as nothing more than his personal cock-sleeve.

My pleasure wasn’t a concern, and I could tell because he never once asked me if I was feeling good. Instead, he panted like a dog into my ears, groping along my chest while rolling his hips up into mine - grinding his cock as deep as he could manage.

“Chan...” I trailed off at one point because there would surely be bruises once he was done with me.

“Is there a problem, Y/N?” he asked, and I quickly shook my head even as he started thrusting even harder, forcing his cock even deeper inside my gaping core - brushing against previously untouched places that awakened something almost feral.

“No, sir,” I managed, choking around a moan when his fingers tightened around my throat again.

“He likes to watch,” Chan whispered, slowing down to a sensual grind while he spoke to me. “It gets him off every time.”

“I didn’t know,” I said in return, even though no response was really warranted.

Especially when Chan leaned back once again, picking up from where he had left off from before, and there was a stuttered hiccup to the way he moved - like he was nearing his own breaking point. His fingers curled themselves into my hair, forcing my head to the side to meet Jisung’s unwavering gaze.

“Jisung,” Chan said, and the voyeur himself looked up at the two of us with lust reflecting in his eyes. “Is it everything you wanted?”

“Keep going,” Jisung simply said in return, and Chan was laughing in the moments preceding his orgasm, spilling his seed between my convulsing walls before pulling out with a groan.

“You did good, Y/N,” Chan said, and he reached down for my discarded skirt.

Meanwhile, I glanced around Chan to see Jisung reaching for the tissue box on the table. “Thank you for the show, Mr. Bang.” Jisung said, and he cleaned off his cock before tucking himself back into his jeans.

The Sadist

That unexpected situation should’ve been the first and only sign required for me to break off the engagement with Bang Chan, but I was starting to grow addicted to the ostentatious gifts that he sent me.

Because on that same afternoon, I returned to my apartment to find a brand new SUV waiting for me outside my complex. It was the newest model, and my roommate was hysterical with excitement as she jumped around the front lawn and told me all about how a random man had brought the car to our apartment asking for me.

“I don’t know who you’re seeing,” my roommate remarked. “But if he keeps doing this kind of thing...”

“Yeah,” I agreed with a faint smile, and there was still an active part of me that thought I could put up with Chan if it meant receiving things like this in return.

Plus, I somehow deluded myself into thinking that everything was fine, and I guess my lectures on argumentative writing must’ve worked too well because I convinced my stubborn brain to endure the arrangement for a little while longer.

It also helped that Chan hadn’t spoken to me much in the week following our little date in his office, and I was able to forget about the encounter with Jisung. Plus, my tuition was paid, my bank account was full, and there were always expensive things allowing me to take advantage of a lavish lifestyle.

It was hard to argue against the current trajectory of my situation, but there was still a painful reminder of its price when Chan eventually called me the following Friday with another request:

“I’m having a guest over tonight,” Chan said. “And you’re the entertainment.”

I swallowed hard at his brusque tone. “Entertainment?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Chan reassured me, and I could only process his words while the dial tone played in the background.

But maybe I could handle the addition of a guest, especially if it was just Jisung or someone watching again. That hadn’t been so bad, and the worst part was the initial shock of seeing another man in the same room.

Maybe I was just overreacting, and this would be a regular night where Chan would fuck me in his bed and I would limp home and sleep on the brand new satin comforter he had bought for me.

Unfortunately, my initial enthusiasm was dulled when I knocked on the door to Chan’s penthouse, and he answered my summons with another man lingering in the background. But the other man wasn’t Jisung, and a single chill rolled down my spine when Chan’s guest turned around to look at me for the very first time. “You’re early,” Chan said with a pleasant smile. “We were just pouring ourselves some drinks.”

“That sounds nice,” I said, allowing Chan to take my coat before he led me into the living room.

“This is my associate, Lee Minho,” Chan said, nodding in the direction of the freshly identified man who was unreasonably handsome as he sat down across the room.

“The pleasure is mine,” Minho said with a smirk, and I had no words to match his arrogance, but Chan pulled me into his lap and I took some strange comfort from his embrace.

“Minho and I have been friends for years.”

“What a tragedy,” Minho remarked, and the simple jest was met with a chuckle from Chan who wrapped an arm around my waist.

“He was really excited to meet you as well.”

“Especially after listening to Jisung run his mouth,” Minho said, and I froze at the mention of the other man because that was the moment when everything started to plummet, and I could see the change in Minho’s gaze as he lowered his eyes to my chest.

“Can I see her tits?” Minho asked, holding his glass of scotch in one hand while the other disappeared down the front of his pants.

“Of course,” Chan said, and he didn’t seem to care at all about his friend’s vulgar request, pulling me back against his chest as his fingers worked apart the buttons on my blouse. “She doesn’t mind. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

I shook my head, paralyzed by Minho’s impenetrable gaze as he inhaled sharply when Chan removed the shirt from my arms. “Those are nice.”

“Aren’t they?” Chan agreed, and his fingers tweaked my nipples. But I shivered at the pressure, nearly jumping in his lap from the sudden stimulation as his thumbs rolled across the hardening buds.

“You ever fucked them before?” Minho asked, parting his lips around the rim of his glass.

“No,” Chan said, and his tone reflected his disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to try that in the future.”

“They’re a good size,” Minho remarked, and I couldn’t help but feel humiliated because they were talking about me in such a vulgar manner - like I was just a piece of meat on display for them.

“I like her tits,” Chan agreed. “But I think her ass is my favorite.”

Minho scoffed at that. “Isn’t that always your preference?”

“Why do you think I like fucking her from behind?” Chan laughed, and Minho smiled before draining the rest of his alcohol.

“Where did you get her?” Minho asked, and I watched as he removed his expensive suit jacket.

“Do you remember that website Jisung showed me?” Chan smirked. “It’s probably the best idea that he’s ever had.”

“Mhmm,” Minho agreed, and his lecherous eyes continued to openly stare at my breasts. “Has Changbin seen her yet?”

“No,” Chan said, and then he sighed. “I’m afraid to introduce them.”

“She’s exactly his type,” Minho remarked. “He’ll want to fuck her for sure, and I doubt you’ll tell him no.”

“He’s convincing,” Chan said, and he smirked while his lips pressed wet kisses against my neck and his hands massaged my breasts. “What would you want to do with her?”

“Me?” Minho chuckled, and his dark eyes were appraising. “I’d probably fuck her mouth, and then maybe cum on her tits.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Chan said, and then he was shoving against me from behind. “Get on your knees,” Chan growled into my ear, and I shivered at the guttural sound before falling from his lap and into the floor.

Meanwhile, Minho continued to watch me while stroking his cock, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “Is this an invitation?”

“Take her mouth,” Chan said, and he reached out for his discarded glass of brandy. “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Minho smirked in response, and he pulled the occupied hand from his pants long enough to stand up from the couch, taking another step forward until his crotch was level with my face. “Is that true, little girl?” Minho asked, and I held my tongue when his fingers traced across my lips. “Do you want to suck my cock?”

I could feel Chan’s eyes on me, and I knew better than to disobey. “Yes,” I whispered, and Minho closed his eyes around a groan.

“Channie picked a good little cocksucker,” he said, and he quickly undid his pants, pulling them down his thighs along with his boxers. I inhaled when his cock was freed from the confines of his underwear, slapping against his stomach with a bead of pre-cum waiting on the tip. “Go ahead,” Minho said. “Let’s see what you can do for me.”

I swallowed hard, and I decided to start with a few strokes of his hardening erection - feeling the length of him under my hand because I knew that it would be painful to fit him inside my mouth. “Don’t tease,” Chan said, and I shivered at his harsh tone.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I decided not to waste another moment before I was parting my lips around the head of Minho’s cock, tasting the gathered pre-cum on his tip. It was bitter because it was overwhelming, and my jaw was already aching as I hollowed my cheeks and tried to prevent my teeth from scraping across the sensitive underside of his erection.

“Harder,” Minho growled, and he reached down to grab fistfuls of my hair while forcing the remainder of his cock down my throat - triggering my gag reflex with the sudden motion.

“I guess she’s not used to it,” Chan remarked - like it wasn’t a big deal that I could barely breathe around the intrusion, and spit was dripping from my lips as he proceeded to use me like I was nothing more than a warm space to fill with his cock.

“I’ll teach her for you,” Minho said, but it wasn’t a kindness to feel the tip of his cock hit the soft palate of my mouth, dragging between my lips as he ground his hips while moaning around a curse.

But I still tried my best, sucking at the skin and using my tongue to trace against the ridges. I also kept my hands firmly behind my back, trying my best not to reach out for his thighs because I was afraid that he wouldn’t appreciate the feeling of my nails digging into my skin. Not that he seemed to be extending the same courtesy - fucking my mouth with loud grunts and tugging on my hair with enough force that my scalp was screaming for me to intervene.

“Does it feel good?” Chan asked.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Minho said, and his eyes were glossy from the alcohol settling into his system and the approaching orgasm which I could taste as I tried my best to swallow around him.

And it was almost disorienting when he pulled himself free, keeping one hand in my hair while the other stared to stroke the length of his erection with rapid jerks. “Look at me,” Minho growled, and I forced my gaze to meet his own. “I’m gonna cum on your tits,” Minho snarled, twisting my hair as I did my best to nod around the impossible hold.

“Shit, that’s hot,” Chan whispered, and I closed my eyes when Minho finally came, spraying his hot cum across my chest as his thighs trembled from the effort.

“Damn,” Minho said, and he took a strategic step back to survey me from afar. “She looks better this way.”

“I definitely agree,” Chan said, but I only felt disgusting as I sat there on my knees with their eyes observing my wilted figure.

The Participant

For an entire week after my encounter with Minho, every time I spoke, or did something as simple as drink or eat with my friends, I was reminded of him.

It wasn’t necessarily the worst thing that had ever happened to me, and I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that had been aroused at the idea of Minho’s rough treatment. But the problem emerged from the lack of disclosure from Chan because he seemed to take impressive liberties with the contract. And I didn’t mind having sex with the older man since I gave him my full consent, but these surprises that he sprung on me when I wasn’t expecting them? I wasn’t entirely happy about those.

In fact, the more that I thought about the incident with both Minho and Jisung, the more infuriated I became, and I couldn’t help the brusque tone that I used to greet Chan over the phone when he randomly contacted me the following weekend.

“Someone’s having a bad day,” Chan said, and I didn’t appreciate his accompanying laughter.

“It’s just my classes,” I offered as a response, pinching the bridge of my nose to try and prevent an oncoming headache.

“I hope it’s not too bad because I’d like for you to meet me in the office,” Chan said, and I agreed without really thinking about the consequences. Because the last time I went to Chan’s office, I found myself being fucked on top of his desk with an executive watching in the background.

But I guess this was what I had literally signed up for, and Chan couldn’t possibly know that I hated our most recent encounters because I still wasn’t able to find the confidence to tell him. And maybe it was better this way since our arrangement was nothing but a superficial agreement between two consenting adults - we were both getting something out of it, and I didn’t want to risk losing the invaluable funding that he sent to my stunningly healthy bank account.

Instead, I put on my best smile for him when I walked into his office, greeting him at his Secretary’s desk as she offered me a courteous welcome. Does she know what’s going on? I wondered to myself when Chan took my hand and led me to the giant executive desk where he worked.

He chuckled when he patted his lap, and I dropped my bag onto the floor before dropping myself down between his strong thighs. “There you are,” Chan said with a smirk, tracing the pout of my lips with his thumb. “You look sexy today.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I hated to sound so timid in front of him, but he was still beyond intimidating, and I never knew what to expect from someone who continued to surprise me.

“I’ve missed you,” Chan said, and I hesitated when his hands found the hem of my t-shirt, crawling along the skin of my torso to hold me in place. “Last time was really fun.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, but it wasn’t very convincing. Thankfully, Chan didn’t seem to notice, and he brought me in for a sloppy kiss so that I could taste the mouth wash on his tongue.

“Let’s take a walk around the office,” Chan said, and I agreed because it seemed relatively normal in comparison to what he usually asked from me.

It was also startling domestic to hold his hand as he walked me through the maze of cubicles, talking about taxes and the stock market and whatever else he found interesting. In response to most of his conversation, I found myself nodding because I couldn’t comprehend his big text jargon or the complicated explanation when it involved his return on investment numbers.

“How about some lunch?” Chan suggested, and I agreed even though my stomach had twisted itself into knots during the ride over here.

However, when Chan reached out to hit the button to call for the elevator, he paused when he made eye-contact with someone walking out of the conference room. He sighed as he turned me around. “This is awkward,” Chan said, and I noticed that the tips of his ears were bright red. “I may have shown Changbin some pictures of you and....” Chan trailed off with a smile. “He really liked what I showed him.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Chan jerked his head to the side to indicate the exceedingly handsome gentleman who was lingering outside of the conference room with his eyes glued in our direction.

“Changbin really likes you,” Chan whispered, smiling as he allowed one hand to fall down and palm my ass.

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and I felt my entire face flush when I realized that it had come from Changbin. He was brazenly eye-fucking me from where he was standing, and I couldn’t even imagine the dirty thoughts running through his mind.

“He wants to fuck you,” Chan continued as if we were having a conversation about something as casual as the weather. “And I kinda want to see him pound this little pussy.”

He then audaciously cupped the heat between my legs and I squirmed around in his arms because we were in public. “What are you doing?” I asked, and there was every reason to panic when anyone could see us like this - when Changbin was already looking at us like we were incredibly interesting.

“He’s got a really big cock,” Chan added like that was supposed to convince me. “But I know that you’ll do it for me, right?”

I hesitated at his request, glancing back over my shoulder at Changbin who was still watching the two of us with a predatory gaze. “When?”

“Tonight,” Chan said before pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to my lips. “I’ll have something nice sent to your apartment. Wear it for us, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I agreed, and the response sounded robotic even to my own ears.

True to his word, Chan had sent over a rather scandalous pair of lingerie to my apartment - a matching set of underwear that included a red thong and delicate bralette with lace elegantly lining the comfortable padding. There was also a very short black shirt in the package and a thin camisole which wasn’t meant to cover much of me. And I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror when I realized that I looked like someone out of Chan’s wet dream.

But instead of walking through campus with such an appearance, I had wrapped my scantily-clad form in a long coat when I greeted Chan that night outside of his apartment, hoping that he wouldn’t question my desire to ride the bus in something more appropriate for public viewing. But maybe he was too turned on to scold me, dragging me inside his apartment and closing the door before opening the front of my coat.

“Fuck,” he growled when he saw me in my outfit. “You look so good in this.”

“Thank you,” I whispered in return, and Chan tossed aside my coat while reaching down for my hand.

“There’s no reason to delay tonight’s fun,” he commented. “Changbin’s already waiting in the bedroom,” he said.

I swallowed hard the mention of the other man, trying to piece together my disorganized thoughts when Chan invited me inside the lavish bedroom that was the exact same size as my entire apartment. But I also wasn’t surprised by the ostentatious reminder of his tremendous wealth, especially when I realized that there was someone waiting inside just as Chan had promised. The same man from earlier at the office was sitting in a chair near the corner of the room, dressed in his work suit and looking at me from beneath a fringe of blonde hair while his fingers tightened around his whisky glass.

“You were so patient, Bin,” Chan remarked as he reached down to remove his shirt.

“I think she’s worth it,” Changbin replied, and I tried not to squirm too much under his impenetrable gaze.

“What do you think of her outfit?” Chan asked, and he smirked while squeezing my ass through the skit.

“I’d rather see what’s underneath,” Changbin said, and his attitude was so nonchalant that I couldn’t deny that a small part of me was attracted to his eagerness.

“That can be arranged,” Chan agreed, and I held perfectly still as he removed my tank top before jerking my skirt down my thighs.

He didn’t even need to tell me to step out of the offending piece of fabric, sliding it across the floor as I stood in front of Changbin in nothing more than the skimpy lingerie that Chan had chosen for me. “Damn,” Changbin grumbled, and one hand slid down his chest before settling on top of the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Shall we start?” Chan grinned, and I watched as he walked over to the bed to make himself more comfortable on top of the mattress before holding out his arms for me. “Come here, Y/N.”

I nodded, crawling over the silken sheets while Chan whispered compliments into the silent bedroom. “She’s so fucking hot,” Changbin remarked, and I held my breath when Chan used his raw strength to turn me around - bringing my back flush against his chest as one arm wrapped itself across my chest. I shivered in response to his impressive muscles, pressing myself even closer to him while his other hand crept down to remove my panties

“Look at this,” Chan whispered, ripping the fabric and exposing my bottom half for Changbin’s eyes. “Such a pretty cunt.”

Changbin inhaled sharply at the exposed skin, and he stood from the chair to walk over the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes because he was shameless, palming his erection over his pants while his eyes glued themselves between my thighs. “Spread her legs for me.”

Chan nodded, and I could feel the way his fingers parted the wet folds of my labia before he drug his thumb along my sensitive clitoris.

“Oh, fuck,” Changbin growled, and his eyes were bright with lust as Chan continued to tease my throbbing sex while mouthing kisses against my throat.

“Do you see something you like?” Chan asked his friend as if the question was even necessary.

“Let me fuck her, Chan,” Changbin snarled, and I watched as he unzipped his suit pants before dropping them to the floor along with his boxer shorts, fisting his cock in one hand while the other worked at the buttons on his shirt.

“I don’t know...” Chan trailed off with a teasing tone. “I’m not really in the mood to share.”

“We both know that's a lie,” Changbin said with a humorless laugh. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

I bit my tongue to hold back a moan when one of Chan’s fingers penetrated my tight walls, putting on a show for Changbin as he maintained eye contact with his business partner. It was like they were engaged in some sort of competition over me, and I was melting from Chan’s ministrations, feeling him move around with his fingers curling against all the right spots. He also started to scissor his fingers to stretch me out in preparation for whatever else might happen, and Changbin whimpered as he continued to stroke his hand up and down the impressive length of his throbbing cock.

“I guess you can have it,” Chan said, and I yelped when he shoved me off his lap, tossing his legs over the side of the bed. “Hands and knees,” Chan barked, slapping my ass for good measure before he walked over to the same chair in the corner of the room. “You’ll be a good slut for Changbin.”

I whimpered at the rough treatment, and I tried to avoid Changbin’s gaze as I positioned myself on the center of the bed, dropping down onto my forearms while I raised my ass high in the air. I was breathing hard against the sheets, feeling my pulse skyrocket when the bed dipped beneath Changbin’s weight as he mounted me from behind.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, and I shook my head when he started to grope my ass, pulling apart my cheeks as his fingers prodded against the dripping entrance to my cunt. “Say my name, slut!”

I nearly screamed from the force of the slap he landed on my ass, and I took a deep breath to manage the pain. “Please, Changbin,” I sniffled, and there was nothing but blinding hot pleasure when he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down my slit.

However, he wasn’t nearly as patient as Chan, and I was shaking around the abrupt intrusion of his cock. He also wasn’t gentle, holding my hips with a bruising grip before he fucked his cock inside my wet heat, leaving me no room to breathe before he was driving his hips against mine like there wasn’t enough time in the world to split me open for him. “Shit,” Changbin hissed, and I was powerless when he shoved my face down into the pillows, forcing me back into an even deeper arch.

“Play nice, Bin,” Chan said, and I could barely spot him from the corner of my eye. “You know I don’t like it when you break my toys.”

“Can’t help it,” Changbin grunted, and I could feel the fat head of his cock brushing against my cervix.

“She feels good right?” Chan asked, and I finally located him, following his voice to see that he was rubbing his erection through the tented fabric of his pants.

“Her cunt is tight,” Changbin agreed, and he wasn’t even thrusting anymore; instead, he was manhandling me up and down his cock, slamming his hips against mine and filling the room with the sounds of wet slaps and crude moans as he chased his own pleasure.

He was fucking me like a madman, breath hot on the back of my neck. Everything was fast and hard, and the sound of the headboard hitting the wall was especially loud. “Fuck,” Changbin muttered, and I thought he might be slowing down, but he just adjusted his grip and set a brutal pace and fucked me even harder.

It was all too much, and I wasn’t expecting to come, but when he lifted one of my legs for a better angle, I felt a sudden wave of arousal drip around Changbin’s thick erection because he was scraping across my G-spot with every stroke. I moaned at the direct stimulation, and it felt like there was an impossible pressure building at the center of my abdomen, stretching and stretching until my vision nearly blacked out from the intensity of my orgasm.

“Yes!” Changbin groaned when I inadvertently squeezed around his cock even tighter, providing enough pressure to trigger his own orgasm. And I could feel his warm cum as it decorated the cavern of my pussy, escaping the place where we were connected with a squelching sound when he eventually pulled out.

“What a mess,” Chan groaned.

“Such a good little whore,” Changbin purred, reaching down to stuff his cum back inside where it belonged. I whined at the over-stimulation, but Changbin growled in response and slapped my ass hard. “I want one more round,” Changbin declared, leaving me lying on the bed as he rolled over to the side.

“Sure,” Chan agreed, and I felt his hand soothing along the side of my face as he wiped away my tears. “How long do you need to get it back up, old man?”

“Shut up,” Changbin muttered. “Give me ten minutes.”

‘Well, that’s all I need,” Chan remarked, and I whimpered when he took his turn to mount me from behind, twisting his fingers into my hair as he slid his cock inside with one hard thrust, grinding his hips in long, sensual circles while whispering the filthiest words into my ears.

Present

It wasn’t very much like me to reveal all those intimate secrets, but something about Seungmin’s presence was safe and comforting. “What an asshole,” Seungmin remarked, discarding a fresh cigarette that he hadn’t even bothered lighting before returning his attention to me. “You deserve so much better than him.”

“He pays for everything,” I said. “He pays for my tuition, and he sends checks for the rent...”

“So?” Seungmin scoffed. “I can help you get a job at the diner where I work. You can make enough money to pay for those things without him.”

“It’s just so hard...” I broke off with a sudden exclamation, and my emotions were spilling out despite my attempts to suppress them, holding Seungmin even closer by the collar of his jacket as I sobbed into his shoulder. “He owns me.”

“No, he doesn’t, Y/N,” Seungmin said with a firm tone. “Do you understand me?”

I shook my head. “I signed a contract!”

“Every contract has a loophole,” Seungmin said. “And I’m sure it expires at some point, or you can negotiate your way out of the terms!”

“He’s a businessman,” I argued. “There’s no way I can win.”

“Not with that attitude,” Seungmin said with a fierce look. “You’re not alone, Y/N. I’ll even help you figure out how to leave him, but that’s what you need to do because this relationship is not good for you!”

“I kept telling myself that I didn’t care,” I whispered, sighing when Seungmin carded his fingers through my hair. “I guess I cared too much.”

“It’s alright,” Seungmin said, holding me close as he spoke reassurances into my stubborn ears.

“I’m scared, Seungmin,” I told him, and he nodded.

“I’ll give you all my strength,” he promised, and the sincerity of his words triggered a fresh wave of tears, and I cried while thinking about the difficult situation that I found myself in.

The idea of Chan’s arrangement had once been enchanting because everything he promised seemed like a dream come true. But the reality was nothing short of a nightmare. And I was suddenly desperate to escape.

#stayracha #skzwriternet #skzsmutnetwork #chan smut #chan fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids chan #stray kids chan fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #mostlycompetent #requested

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Apple Of My Pie (7) — Jin

A Small Town Swoons story

Chapter 7.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Buttercup)

Wordcount: 7.1k words

Genre: non-idol!AU, Baker/Café owner!Seokjin, University student!reader Flatmates!AU, Friends To Lovers, Fluff, slightest angst, smut

Rating: 18+ (NSFW content)

A/N: Hello my sweet poppies! Welcome to the Small Town Swoon Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: Jin and Buttercup finally reunite, and although the real world tries to interrupt their small idyll, Seokjin has the strength to finally impose his needs and confess his feelings. The evening proceeds in the best of ways.

As I mentioned before, this episode made me write things I didn’t know I had in me. Also, this will be the final episode for their storyline, however you will see more of Jin and Buttercup on future stories, mostly in small apparitions here and there. I might come back to this story someday, maybe with some drabbles or some small headcanons, however, I think that now it’s time to let Jin and Buttercup live their special moments with in their own privacy and make up for lost time.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: this is filthy. There’s swearing and light alcohol consumption (wine at dinner, both are pretty sober afterwards). Now, about the filth. Degradation kink, breast worship (involves kissing, licking, biting, grabbing), breast slapping, nipple pinching, one (1) spank, foodplay involving ice cream (so mild temperature play), dom!Seokjin, slightly bratty!reader, grinding, masturbation (both male and female receiving), brief mention of oral (male receiving), cumplay, cumeating, creampie, unprotected sex (please don’t do like them. The right way to go about this would be to use condoms and/or dental dams until you and your partner get the results of the test and are 110% sure you’re clean. If you have any questions, please head to Planned Parenthood’s website, they have wonderful webpages about safe, sane and consensual sex, plus anything you need to keep your sexual health in check. If you can’t check their website, please feel welcome to reach out to me through DMs, I’ll try to help 🥰💜). Also reader is kind of excited about Seokjin being circumcised? And these two have a latent impregnation kink that will show up someday. There are slightly angst discussion about past partners and feelings, but nothing extreme.

Remember to vote for next prompt (check the link in my bio) and in case you need it, here’s my masterlist 💜

In case you need it, here is the music companion

Enjoy ✨💜

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

Seokjin woke up with the ringing of a phone.

He appreciated the warmth and weight next to him, half on top of him.

He looked at you. He allowed himself to do that only for a couple seconds.

Your phone was ringing, and he needed to pick it up before it woke you.

Your face had been so scared and tired when he first saw it at the front door.

He stood and picked up the call just in time.

“Oh, thank God, Buttercup where are you?” Jeongguk’s voice came from the phone.

“It’s Seokjin. She’s with me, at the apartment. She’s sleeping.” He replied, his voice gravelly after being under the cold rain and sleeping for almost two hours.

“She’s with you?”

“Yes, she’s here. She’s sleeping.” Seokjin repeated.

“Kim Seokjin. I am going to kill you!” Yoongi said, stealing the phone from Jeongguk. “We were all looking for her. Poor Jeongguk was in a panic. Are you stupid? Outright dumb? What is it, both your two miserable neurons decided to throw a strike today? Did they accidentally crash and perish? Did they finally decide to end their suffering?”

“Yoongi. Stop,” said Spice from a distance. “She’s safe, stop acting like an overprotective parent.”

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Yoongi asked.

“No. I found her here, taking her stuff away.” Seokjin said, his body tensing at the thought. “Is she leaving? What is going on?”

“She’s going to the cottage with Namjoon. They’re leaving on Monday.”

Seokjin rolled his shoulders before exhaling. “How has she been in the last few weeks?”

“A mess. Sad, miserable. And it’s your fault.” Yoongi spoke with vitriolic hostility in his voice.

“I’m gonna fix it, Yoongi. I promise.” Seokjin said, his voice extremely emotional as he looked at you. Your eyes were open and you had the tiniest smile on.

“Are you gonna talk to her? Actually confess? Tell her you love her and be done with all the insecure, selfish bullshit?”

“I’m gonna talk to her.” Seokjin replied, still looking at you. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff to come clear with. And I’ll tell her I’m in love with her. And that she’s not going to Namjoon’s. She’s staying with me.” He winked. “She needs to eat and regain some strength before she goes to the woods, if she still wants to go. I’ll tell her ‘Buttercup, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for four years.’” His voice broke. “‘I don’t want to spend one more day without you’, that’s what I’ll tell her.”

You were still incredulous, completely still under the blanket.

“And then I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend, and if she turns me down, then it’s alright. I’ll take it like a gentleman. I’ll let her be. But if there’s even a tiny, minuscule part of her that wants to say yes, then I won’t let her go until she agrees to become my girlfriend.” Seokjin explained, with determination filling his voice.

Yoongi got emotional. “Go tell her before you change your mind.”

“She’s right in front of me. She heard every single word.”

“Then I guess you have more important stuff than stay on the phone with me.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Hopefully kiss my new girlfriend, if she lets me.”

You didn’t even understand what was going on before you nodded energetically.

“She said yes. I gotta go.” Jin’s mouth shaped into a large, proud grin.

“Sure. Stay safe. I’m too young to become an uncle.” Yoongi teased with a snicker.

“Goodnight uncle.” Seokjin replied before closing the call.

Your stares stayed locked together as he placed down the phone.

His expression turned serious but kind. “You’re awake.”

You blinked and licked your lips. “I am.” You took a pause, inhaling. “And I want to kiss you.”

He mirrored your action, his tongue slipping out, wetting the seam of his mouth, directing your glance there. “I want to clear things up, before that.”

You closed your eyes, trying not to lose your patience. “What is there to clear up?”

“I just wanted to explain stuff. About Grace and all of the rest...”

From the insecure, agitated look in his eyes, you realised he was scared. You patted the sofa, inviting him to sit beside you. He followed your lead. “I’m listening.” You reassured him, placing your hand on top of his knee.

“When I started dating Grace, I was convinced I could never stand a chance with you. And though Yoongi insisted on the fact that you had feelings for me, I was too shy and too scared to risk it. And after living with you and being so… united. So domestic… I couldn’t handle my feelings anymore.”

You rubbed his arm comfortingly, sitting up, trying to reassure him, to heal him from all those months of insecurities and silence and denial.

“I tried to suppress them. And Grace looked so kind, so respectful. And she’s a beautiful young woman. I could see myself falling for her.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder. You still had to realise that such a gesture had a deeper, somehow different meaning, that from then on you were allowed to do that and more.

“But the closer I got to her — and the farther I got from you — the more it all felt wrong. And I don’t even know why I did what I did that Saturday — well Sunday, you know what I mean anyway. I think some part of me was angry because of Edmund or something, or because I thought that I could stop thinking about you if I found someone else to think about and that makes me an absolute idiot—”

You interrupted him. “Don’t hide from me. Ever.” You cupped his face and made him look at you. “You were hurt. And I took similar decisions. What I did with Edmund was somehow similar to what you did with Grace. It’s just that you two had feelings for each other while—” The idea of him being in love with someone else squeezed your lungs until you felt empty.

“I’ve never felt someone as deeply as I feel you, though. I’ve never felt so many things for anyone else beside you.” He said, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked at your lips.

“I love you.” You murmured. There were no other words you could use. “I’m in love with you and I’m not angry that you tried to forget and move on. It doesn’t matter that we fucked or made love to other people. I don’t care that you didn’t tell me. The only thing that matters is that you’re here now and I love you so much.”

He repositioned himself so he could look at you without getting a crick in his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, soft and delicate, worried even.

“Because I couldn’t think about losing you. Because I didn’t even realise I was in love before you started spending time with Grace. Well, I knew I was attracted to you and that I considered you my friend, but I had never really allowed myself to consider I could have more. I was happy with what we had, and I never realised I could lose it, or that someone else could have it instead of me.”

He touched your hair.

“I was okay with what we had. Asking for more felt selfish. Like I was being greedy.” You lowered your eyes, his gaze too intense for you to resist.

“I want you to be greedy, Buttercup.” He whispered, his hand cupping your jaw. “I want you to take all of me and not leave a crumb for anyone else.” His body felt closer, hotter. “I love you, Buttercup. And not in the friendly way. I love you in a very passionate, very hungry way.” His thumb traced your lower lip as he gazed at it heatedly. “Do you love me too?”

You nodded recklessly, almost snapping your neck. “I love you. In a very unfriendly, very sexy way.”

He smiled. “Good.”

His mouth lowered gently, reaching yours, his whole body inching forward until your eyes lost focus and closed. It was a good kiss. Not perfect but good.

Jin’s lips felt soft against your mouth, maybe a bit too delicate, still, definitely pleasing. With just a pinch of mischief, you pulled at his lower lip lightly, biting it delicately.

The growl he emitted had you smiling before you repeated your teasing move, drawing him in. He exhaled and opened his mouth, sucking your upper lip past his teeth.

That felt better than good, leaning to perfect.

What actually made it perfect was his body completely caving in as he manoeuvred himself on top of you, holding himself up with one hand as his hand explored your body deliciously, caressing your hair, your shoulder before reaching your waist.

Helpless and desperate, you pressed the tip of your tongue against his lower lip, pushing it into his mouth.

His hips pressed sinfully against your thigh as he groaned and tangled his tongue with yours.

You moaned and he whimpered in return, a growl vibrating deep in his throat.

His hand moved under your shirt, stopping abruptly.

Dammit.

Your stomach rumbled noisily, making Seokjin part from you. “You’re really hungry.”

You blushed and looked away. “Yeah.”

He hid his face into your neck, snickering. His breath tickled you. “You feel so good right here.” He said, snuggling closer. “But I have to feed you first.” His fingers dug into your sides. “You’re thin.”

Your nails raked against his back. “I had a bit of a hard time in the last few days.” You mentioned casually.

“Can’t have you like this.” He parted from your body, studying your face attentively. “Let’s get you fed.” He whispered, pecking your lips and standing up, heading to the kitchen.

“You’re kidding, right?” You stood up on wobbly legs and followed him.

He looked back at you. “Not at all.” Jin theatrically opened the fridge and lifted an eyebrow. “Chicken wraps. Salad. An abundant dose of ice cream. I need you sugared up.”

You looked at him with a pout.

“It’s the quickest meal I can arrange, Buttercup. We can have dinner in forty and then cuddle and make out. Dinner is non-negotiable.” He said, getting the chicken strips and the large tortillas, together with cherry tomatoes and cheese.

“Can’t we just… postpone dinner?” You said, too caught up in your grovelling to bring up memories of him and Grace in the kitchen.

“Why would we need to postpone dinner?” He asked, slipping some butter into a pan, together with some garlic, moving the chicken strips onto the pan and roasting them quickly with a random — and a very delicious-smelling — mix of spices.

You dragged your foot against the floor, trying to look demure. “You know why...”

He snickered devilishly. “We’ve waited for four years. One more hour won’t hurt you. Cut the cherry tomatoes, please.”

“Especially because we waited for years we should be forgoing dinner.”

He laughed. “I won’t have you fainting on me. Dinner, then whatever you want, Buttercup. Cut those tomatoes, you’re postponing the fun.” He said, adding a spoonful of chicken broth to keep the meat in the pan soft and tasty.

“Now I remember how insufferable you truly are.” You said, starting with the cutting.

He smirked. “You’re stuck with me from now on, doll.”

“I’m revoking the love declaration.” You muttered.

“Are you revoking your undying lust for me too?” He asked, turning towards you with a lopsided, cocky grin.

You just looked at him with the most insulting look you could muster before returning to the tomatoes.

“Such a good girl. Still cutting those tomatoes to get her reward.” He joked.

Once, this kind of nagging was absent minded, innocent and playful. Now it was outright sexual. Especially since the praise had a shiver running down your spine.

“Don’t tease if you’re gonna make me wait.” You groaned.

He bent and kissed your cheek. “I’m doing it for your good, Buttercup.” He moved to your earlobe. “You’ll thank me later, doll.” He nibbled on the soft skin. “I promise it will feel so good, Buttercup.”

You stretched your neck to the side, offering him the expanse of taut, corded throat.

He grazed it with his teeth, drawing the purple-greenish line of your jugular.

“I bet you taste so damn good,” he murmured, sucking at the base of your throat.

“Jinnie.” You called delicately.

He parted from you abruptly. “Dinner. First, dinner.” He reminded himself. “Dammit, you’re such a tease.” He complained, picking up another larger pan to heat up the tortillas. He also added a light sprinkle of flour to the chicken, to give a creamier texture to the sauce made by the broth and the butter. Once the first tortilla was warm, he placed the chicken on top, mingling it with the tomato pieces and the cheese while you prepared the salad.

Dinner was ready in twenty minutes, the wonderful smell of spices filling your nostrils and making your mouth water as you sat and stared at your tortilla, waiting for Jin to sit down himself. He also added an interesting bottle of white wine to the mix, matching the chicken.

“Enjoy.” He exclaimed before digging in himself.

Your whole mouth was feasting at the taste of the food.

It could feast for something better, your hormones reminded you, but you let that slip.

Dinner was uneventful, the both of you too busy and hungry and tense to start a conversation.

While you were thinking about how to tell Jin you wanted him to ram you into the mattress and slap your tits, he thought whether it was okay for him to want sex already. Okay, technically you had been friends for years, but maybe you wanted to wait, go on actual dates, be a couple, in an official relationship before letting him make love to you.

It was pretty clear that any kind of conversation between such two people would evidently elucidate any semblance of doubt, but it would also be a minefield of misunderstandings and potentially very embarrassing bushes to beat around.

So you both stayed silent, completely oblivious to the lessons you had learned roughly an hour ago.

By the time he stood and prepared a small bowl of plain milk gelato, topped with his special wild berries sauce, doubt had nagged at him enough that he was ready to speak.

He placed the bowl on the table. A lovely royal blue bowl. It was his favourite. Maybe because it was his mother’s favourite. He sat down and patted his hands against his thighs. “Come here.” He murmured.

You obliged, settling on his lap contentedly. He took a spoonful of dessert, making sure that he got some sauce in it before offering it to your awaiting mouth. “Eat up, doll.”

You opened your mouth and enjoyed the refreshing feel of the gelato against your palate.

“I need you to listen to me, Buttercup.” He started. “I know we confessed our feelings and that we’ve been attracted to each other for a very long time.”

You nodded, watching as he offered another spoonful as soon as you opened your mouth.

“I just want you to know that I’m dying to make love to you tonight, but we don’t have to. It’s okay if you want to… I don’t know, get physically intimate a bit at a time, or if you want it to be something special, or—”

You interrupted him. “I want to make love to you too, tonight.”

Your eyes followed him as he licked his lips. “Shall we bring this to the bedroom then?”

Nodding you stood up, going for the living room and grabbing the comforter, walking down the corridor and looking at him from over your shoulder. “What are you waiting for?” You asked before disappearing into his room.

He shook his head in disbelief before grabbing more wild berries sauce. Maybe, hopefully…

He took the bowl of ice cream and a spoon, taking his time before entering his room.

You were already laying on his bed, head to toe a vision.

You had already removed your yoga pants and you were laying there in an oversized t-shirt.

“Tell me how you want me to treat you, Buttercup.” He asked, studying you as he took a mouthful of gelato to his mouth.

“Undress first. Then come here. Feed me that delicious dessert and then feed me your cock.” You said, completely unashamed as his burning gaze explored your naked skin.

“I won’t feed you my cock, sorry doll.” He said, placing the bowl on the nightstand together with the sauce. “I’ll need to suck on your pretty tits first.” He took off his sweater in a flash, your eyes reacquainting with his naked chest, bathing in the glorious width of it. It was really breathtaking, with its plains and slopes and dips.

“You’re gorgeous.” You murmured, looking at him while your hand went to your breast, palming it and teasing the peak while he took off his sweatpants. Watching the delicious shape of him from over his boxers had you moaning just slightly, whimpering weakly before your hand slid under your shirt to grab at your flushed, overheated chest.

Seokjin caught your wrist vigorously, pulling it out. “Those are mine to touch, doll.” He reprimanded you. “All mine.” He repeated, straddling your waist, pinning your hands up.

You looked at him with a wicked smile. This, this, was your best friend, the man you had loved for years. And here he was, pinning your wrists, ready to mark your breasts, to own them.

“Keep ‘em there.” He ordered, letting go of your wrists before stretching his fingers to completely hold your breasts, kneading them lightly to test the texture.

“Fuck, they're so soft.” His eyes closed as he felt them up appreciatively. “I can't wait to suck these.” He said, and his unashamed comment opened another new world to you. His thumbs found your nipples, rolling them under the plush pads of his fingers. “You like this?” He asked, looking in your eyes.

You nodded, stretching toward the bedside table and switching on the small lamp there. “Wanna see you.” You explained, looking at him, waiting for a reaction.

“Are you sure? You okay with me watching?” He asked, just as your eyes closed and your back arched, your breasts pushing against his palms, your throat emitting the shyest moan.

“Oh, you like this a lot, don't you, Buttercup?” He snickered, bending down to kiss your neck. “Let me hear how good it feels, honey,” He murmured, sucking at your skin gently.

“Please, I want my shirt off, Jin.” That's all you managed to say, squeezing your thighs together once you realised he wasn't giving you anything to grind against.

“You want me to touch your naked skin?” He asked, making you grow even more desperate.

“Please. Jin…”

He looked at your face. It was absolutely adorable as it scrunched up in disappointment, a lovely pout making your lips rounder, softer, plumper. He kissed them briefly. “Sit up, lovely. Let's take this shirt off.” He murmured with a deep baritone timbre.

The shirt was gone in a second, his mouth latching on a nipple before you could even take off the shirt completely.

His hips ground against your belly, his erection pressing hard against your navel while you laid back down, his front arching away from you as his mouth stayed attached to your chest.

“Please, gimme…” You tried to speak, needing something to ease the pressure between your thighs, where your throbbing clitoris felt unforgivably neglected.

“What?” He asked, parting from your breast and looking so blissful and confused, like he didn't even know what was going on, like your breasts had given him a total reset and all he could remember, all he could ever want and do was to stay there and suck, completely oblivious to anything but the object of his lust.

“Need you down there,” was all you managed to say, still too high from the promises of pleasure.

He grinned *hazily. “Down where?” He asked, teasing and unforgiving.

You exhaled and whimpered. “I need you between my legs.”

“Between your legs where, Buttercup? Don't be shy.”

At that you snapped. “If you intend to keep sucking my nipples could you please kindly press your thigh against my clit? I need to grind on something and you're being too fucking uncooperative.”

He laughed almost hysterically. “Of course, Buttercup. See, was it so hard to ask?” He commented, almost too patronising.

“You're making me want to shut your mouth.” You replied, pushing your hips up and finally meeting his hard thigh, giving a low moan.

“Too bad that would keep me from doing this.” He said, sitting up slightly, grabbing the spoon from the bowl and pressing the cold metal to your areola, spreading a thick layer of ice cream there while your hot skin made it melt and dribble down.

“Fucking hell.” You said, watching as his tongue slid out and collected the rivulet of cream that was dangerously rolling down towards the sheets, almost staining them.

His eyes found yours and he grinned. “Feels good?”

You nodded. “Do that again, please.”

He obliged, this time reaching the peak and sucking it, his mouth opening wide as he tried to suck away as much dessert as possible.

Your left hand went to his head, holding him against your breast while your right one went to his ass, pressing it down so that your pelvis and his met, grinding against each other deliciously, his mouth leaving the sucking motion to release a heavy exhale.

“You have the most beautiful tits I've ever seen and touched, Buttercup. They feel so soft and warm and good.” He murmured, so aroused it almost felt painful. “I love them so much.” He confessed, pressing them together and dipping his face in between, moving it side to side. “I love you so damn much, ____.”

He gave a few thrusts with his hips, before pressing his cock harshly between your bodies, your skin feeling so sensitive that you thought you could feel it throb against you.

“I want you inside.” You whispered, grinding into him in response. “Tell me you used a condom the other time.”

He nodded. “I always have.”

You nodded in reply. “You sure you’re clean?”

“I got tested before Grace. And she’s clean.” He said, slowing down at the mention of his ex.

You nodded. “I got checked after Edmund, for peace of mind. All safe.”

“Thank fuck.” He commented, biting the underside of your boob. “I can’t wait to feel you raw on me. If you’re okay with that.”

You confirmed, bobbing your head so energetically you thought it would detach from your neck. “Want to feel you cum inside.” You murmured while he bit his lip and got more ice cream, covering your other breast, the cold of the food and the spoon making you keen and purr. “Is this what you were doing while she made those sounds?”

He tutted and shook his head. “I’ve always wanted this with you. It would never please me as much with anyone else.”

You rolled your eyes. “Liar.”

He arched an eyebrow and stopped his licking and sucking motions, sinking his teeth into your flesh, eliciting a gasp from you, leaving his position only once he was sure he had left a mark. “What did you say?”

“That you’re a liar. That you like this more with me than with anyone else,” you replied, cocky and bratty.

Without thinking twice, he slapped your left breast violently, not even trying to be delicate.

You squealed, your whole body flinching before your fingers gripped the sheets tightly.

“You think I would do this with just anyone?” He asked, almost angry, the hard bite in his voice scaring you just a little.

He eyed the other breast meaningfully, placing his hand there but not slapping the full curve until you shook your head yes, giving him permission.

The second blow had you losing your mind completely, your cunt so sensitive that you felt a heavy gush of arousal drip out of your entrance. “No, Jin.”

“Grip the headboard and stay still.” He said, sitting up and tugging your panties down, the fabric almost ripping at the aggressive movements. “Maybe you don’t get how much you turn me on, Buttercup.” He grinned, looking at you finally naked in front of him. “Do you know how many times I saw those perky nipples under my shirts? How many times I thought about covering them in any food imaginable?”

You shook your head. “Maybe I wanted you to lay me on top of the kitchen table and shove your cock in my cunt and bruise my tits all over.” You replied, batting your lashes innocently. “Maybe call me your dirty little slut. Throw in a couple spanks.”

He stopped everything he was doing, entirely frozen.

“Is that how you like it?” He asked, completely focused on your reply.

You licked your lips. “With you I might like that, yes.”

“You want to be my dirty little slut?” He asked, staring into your eyes, quoting your words exactly.

You inhaled and nodded.

“You want me to degrade you?” He asked again, settling between your legs and rubbing your thighs.

Again, you shook your head yes.

“What if I called you my cockstarved whore?” He said, slightly hesitant.

You smiled and closed your eyes. “Why don’t you do that while squeezing my cheeks with one hand and slapping my tits with the other?”

He snickered. “You really are a filthy animal, uh?” He slapped your breast and bent down to your face. “You want me to use you like a fuckdoll, mh?”

“Yes, please.”

“I need to stretch you first, though, love.” He said, softening for a second. “Now, out of our little game here, I don’t want to hurt you like that, yes?”

Your mind sobered up for a minute as you listened to him.

“Listen to me now, Buttercup. We need a safeword, love.” He said, touching your face. “You okay with colours? Green is good, yellow is slow down, red is stop.”

“I’m good with that.” You replied, trying to reach his face with yours. “Can you kiss me, please?”

His expression turned longing and fond before he took his time, making love to your mouth with his, his kiss so deep and demanding and passionate until he felt how wet you were against his thigh.

“You’re drenched, doll.” He said, smirking at you. “I want to feel your pretty hand around my cock, Buttercup. Stroke me while I stretch you, love.”

You nodded, your hands leaving the headboard lightning fast sliding into his underwear with speed you doubted you could muster in any other circumstances.

“Fuck, you’re thick.” You said once your fingers wrapped around him.

“That’s what the stretching is for, Buttercup.” He grinned as he looked down at you. His fingers slipped into your slit effortlessly, your inner muscles gripping him immediately.

“And you’re tight. So damn tight.” He replied, bending down to lick at your chest, suctioning your areola into his mouth, shaking his head, making your whole breast bounce in a movement that was too mild to cause pleasure, weren’t it for the incredible amount of arousal circling in your bloodstream.

“Please, Jin. Inside. I’m begging. Please.” You pleaded, stroking him, feeling how long and thick and hot he was, filled with ridges and veins. And he was circumcised. None of your previous partners were.

You explored the differences with your fingers, the lack of skin there so interesting and unusual.

“You like that?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he felt his cock flutter, a drop of precum leaving his slit.

You nodded as you caught his arousal, spreading over the soft, spongy tip, completely undisturbed by foreskin. “I want to see it.” You said before a long moan left your lips, his fingers hitting a sensitive spot inside you, rubbing it with slow movements of his index and middle finger, hooking them and pressing intensely against the smoothest patch of skin. “Oh, god.” You murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as he added his thumb on your clit.

“Cum on my fingers, Buttercup.” He growled. “Then I’ll let you see my cock. You need to cum first, though. Cum for me.”

While your hand stroked him lightly, absentmindedly, the rest of your body focused exclusively on the feel of his digits inside you. ‘I’m close’ was all you managed to say before your hips started following your high, your body becoming completely unresponsive to any semblance of control your mind tried to impose.

“Cum, love.” He said, and your whole being responded, your hand stilling, your breathing stopping, your eyes opening wide before closing again while ecstasy possessed you.

“Yes, love. That’s it. My filthy thing. Show me how you do it.” He spurred you on, watching your body contort in pleasure.

“Jin.” You whined, the first sound you managed to emit since you came apart for him.

“Yes.” He said, removing his thumb from your clit and adding another finger inside you, stretching you wide before you called a yellow.

He extracted his fingers and laid them flat against your mound. “I think I promised you my cock, uh?”

Grinning wildly, you agreed, trying to tug his boxers off. “I want it. I earned it. Give it to me.”

He snickered, cleaning his hand against your breast before collecting your taste and what was left of the gelato with the flat of his tongue. “How demanding.”

“I’ve waited four years. Can’t you just do me already?”

“We could have waited way, way less.” He said, taking the bowl with only a spoonful of molten ice cream, tipping it teasingly over your torso, drawing a line that went from your belly button to your mouth, which you opened wide, letting the liquid dribble in.

Seokjin stared in wonder, imagining something else spilling into your mouth. Once there was nothing left, he placed the bowl back on the bedside table, bending down and licking up the line of cream he had drawn, slowing down to make sure he didn’t leave too much of a mess.

By the time he reached your neck and chin, he was ready to explode with want, his whole body needing to claim, own, possess.

“Is my little slut ready?” He asked, lingering over your face. “Or does she need to learn some more patience?”

You shook your head, licking his lips. “Please.” You begged, your nails raking down his back.

“That’s a good slut. You’re begging for my cock?”

You nodded.

“And you’re so dumb for it you even lost your words?”

You nodded again, grinning.

“She’s the smartest little bean and still gets silly for my cock.” He smiled fondly, almost insultingly. “That’s my pretty fuckdoll.”

He laid down beside you, finally freeing his cock as he arched his hips off the bed and removed his underwear.

Your eyes focused on his dick immediately, the shaft so beautiful, covered in veins just like you had imagined when you had felt it underneath your fingertips.

“Dammit. It’s...” You bent over him, getting your hands on him, bringing your face closer to his crotch, wanting to learn every single detail by heart. “Jin.”

“What.” He replied before throwing his head back, his fingers going to the pillow and gripping it, his hand leaving the fabric to press his palm to his mouth.

You had teasingly taken his tip into your mouth, his skin feeling so smooth and hot, salty, your cheeks and tongue eager to squeeze him tentatively, feeling just how spongy his flesh felt.

He moaned sinfully. “You’re really hungry, aren’t you, my naughty slut.” His hand reached the crown of your head, caressing your head before pulling you off. “I wanna cum in your dripping cunt, Buttercup. Come up here.”

“What if I wanna blow you?” You teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Maybe I’ll let you do that for round four or something, come up here, let me fill that tight warm cunt.”

Closing your eyes, smiling slowly, you straddled his hips. “You’d better keep your mouth on my boobs in the process.”

He giggled. “Wouldn’t have it any different. Come here.” He opened his arms and you propped yourself on your elbows. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You cupped his cheek and waited for him to kiss you.

He obliged. “Feels so good to taste me on your tongue.” He murmured, stroking your back.

“I haven’t even properly taken you in my mouth.” You quipped, slightly petty.

He smiled and grabbed his cock, placing the tip against your entrance. “I’ll make up for it.” He kissed your cheek. “Take your time.”

You nodded and lowered yourself slowly. Taking the first few inches was blissful, the lack of barrier making him slide easily.

“Fuck, it feels good.” He growled. “You feel so warm and tight, love. You feel fucking amazing.”

You purred as you took some more, the stretch becoming more difficult. Your inner muscles contracted, making you come to a halt.

“Holy fuck.” He murmured, his hips pushing in before he managed to control himself. “Sorry, Buttercup, so sorry.” He apologised as you flinched. He kissed your face repeatedly. “I’m so sorry.” He touched your cheek.

“It feels good, but I need to—” You took more of him. “Go slow.”

He nodded and felt your breast against his palm, hanging heavy, right there for him to reach and touch and fondle and suck. “Sure thing, love.” He looked into your eyes. “Tell me how I can make it better.”

You shook your head. “Just hold me, please.”

He wrapped you in his arms just as you took all of him, sitting on him. “Yes, ____. You are so perfect.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in through your mouth. Slowly, you started rotating your hips, feeling how his cock filled you, pulsating inside you. “Jinnie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttercup.” He spoke gently, assisting you as you started riding him, his fingers gripping your hips gently.

“You’re so hot.” You whined, biting your lip, watching as his face contorted in pleasure. “I love you so much,” you said with a whimper, your inner walls constricting around him.

“Stop getting tighter, it feels too good.” He whispered, chuckling in desperation.

“Don’t you wanna fill me up?” You looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “I want you to. Please.” You spoke through a pout, moving faster on him.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to keep himself grounded.

You slowly rose to a sitting position, leaving the warmth of his embrace. “Don’t keep me waiting.” You provoked him, spreading your tiny hands over his insanely wide chest, your nails teasing him just a little. “I know you want to watch me drip in your cum.”

He exhaled heavily before giving a deep, breathy laugh, like a short series of hiccups. “You think you deserve my cum, you dirty slut?” He licked his lips, observing your tits shake right in front of his face before slapping them, earning a moan from you. “You really like them slapped, uh? Let’s see if you like spanks too.” He taunted before landing a heavy smack on your ass, enjoying the squeeze of your kegels. “And that pussy likes to clench me so tight.” He grinned, watching as your hand reached your clit, your eyes closed, your hair messy around your face. “Yeah, touch yourself, Buttercup.”

Your gaze met his, your chest blushing as your high approached. “I’m close.”

“It’s okay, keep touching yourself, love. I want you to feel good, honey.” His hips thrust in from beneath, making the stimulation more intense.

“I’m cumming,” you whimpered, leaning even more into your hand as your angle shifted, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you.

As soon as your body crashed on his, Seokjin caught you, holding you close while his throbbing cock kept pistoning in and out of you, focusing on making your orgasm last as he started zeroing in on his own.

“Keep it up, love,” he growled sternly while he felt his restraint slip, “I’m gonna get my slut sloppy with my cum, then I’m gonna lay her on her back and keep it plugged inside her while I fill her up some more.”

You only sobbed and squealed as you felt him get absolutely wild, growling as he gave messier strokes before sinking in deep and staying there, his cock pulsating and spilling his release inside your sensitive walls.

“Goodness, fuck, love. Never had a cunt this good.” He growled, holding his position for a minute, both of you exhausted and breathing heavily.

“Are you really going to do that?” You asked as soon as you came to your senses.

He blinked. “What?”

“The flipping on my back and going for round two?” You asked, parting from him just enough to look him in the face.

“Am I soft?” He asked you, arching an eyebrow.

You squeezed him with your kegels, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he felt you get impossibly tighter. “No.” You replied, looking into his dark gaze.

“Then you have your answer.” He smirked before executing his power move, your back hitting the sheets while he adjusted himself on top of you. “Grab the headboard. Hold on tight.” He said before sliding out and snapping his hips forward, his dick hitting the deepest corner of your sex.

“Oh, damn.”

He chuckled ruthlessly. “Damn right.” He replied cockily, slamming into you again, setting a fast, angry pace, watching your lips open wide, his cock coaxing cry after cry from your throat. “Are you gonna cum for me again? Milk this cock with your juicy cunt?”

You nodded helplessly, arching your chest up, trying to get his attention on your nipples.

He bent down obediently, giving you exactly what you were silently asking, his tongue laving your left areola in lazy, teasing licks. “Touch your clit.” He commanded, feeling his edge come around.

While his cock kept ramming in and out of you, his mouth went to your throat, biting you, his neck contorting as he tried to pay more attention to your sensitive skin.

Your fingers reached your clit just as he sunk his teeth in the soft curve of your bosom.

“Jin, please.” You croaked, your hips meeting his while the room filled with the sound of skin smashing against skin, the headboard thumping against the wall, the feet of the bed scraping against the floor, his laboured breath interrupting once you felt his cock spill inside you again with the strange, pleasurable sensation of his cum spurting against your walls.

You whimpered, hoping you could still cum one more time, but ready to give that up, if need be.

“Come on, Buttercup. One more. I know you can.” He said, staying inside you, arching off of you and slapping your breast again. “I know you’re still hungry for my cock. Give me one more, my lovely little slut. Gimme more, love. I’m waiting for you.” He said, watching your fingers work your clit furiously.

“Again, Jin.” You whimpered, your voice breaking.

“This?” He asked, hitting again.

“Yes, Jin, Yes. Please, Seokjin.” You begged. “Please, I love you, please, make it good. Please, please, please.” You cooed and chanted, so lost in pleasure you felt your high peak and before it shoved you tumbling downhill, pleasure making you soar and precipitate, like a small bird in a storm.

“Oh, you’re cumming, Buttercup.” He observed delivering small hits to your nipples before pinching one, then the other, tweaking them energetically but carefully.

“Jin.” You whimpered in a long moan.

“Oh, yes, ____. It’s me love. You’re with me, love.” He said, just as you tried getting closer to him, your hand resting on your mound while your other arm wrapped around him.

“I love you.” You whispered, your breath calming down. “I’ll never stop saying it.”

He rolled the both of you on your sides, looking at each other.

“I love you too, Buttercup.” He whispered, bringing you closer to him. “We’re both so messy.”

“The ice cream got so sticky.” You complained sadly, giving him a tired look.

“We should shower.” He considered, kissing your lips.

“You really feel like standing up?”

He eyed you eloquently. “I haven’t even slid out of you yet.”

You hummed. “Don’t want you to.” You mused, nuzzling into him.

“We need to clean you up.” He said, stroking your hair fondly. “My adorable messy slut.” He said with the expression and tone of the most affectionate praise.

You purred under his touch, feeling something flutter in your guts. “Don’t say it if you’re not going to torture me afterwards.”

He chuckled. “Let’s clean you up and get some rest. I’ll give you round three if you behave.”

“And then I can blow you for round four?” You asked, eyes bright and inquisitive.

He outright laughed, the sound making you laugh too. “Maybe.” He said, cupping your cheek and pulling out of you slowly, grabbing his boxers to clean you up as delicately as possible before you both stood and walked to the bathroom.

Seokjin woke up around five am, his alarm telling him it was time to get ready for Sunday shift. He would come back in time to make you breakfast — and maybe make love to you afterwards.

Switching off the alarm, he slid out of your grip, your arm thrown possessively around his waist.

He caressed your face before kissing your forehead and stepping away, knowing that it would take a catastrophe to take himself away from you if he lingered for too long.

Your eyes opened when the alarm stopped, watching his back as he disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came back, he was fully dressed, only his shoes and coat missing. You opened your eyes as he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Bakery?” You asked. “Don’t you have someone for the morning shift?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been considering getting some help. At least for a couple mornings a week.”

You hummed and nodded. “I can come along if you need.”

He denied. “Stay here. I wanna find you sleepy and cosy when I come back. Remember round five?”

You smiled and hid into the pillow. “Yes, please.”

He smiled along. “Good. Go back to sleep, Buttercup. We’re going on our first date today.”

----------------------------------------------

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

Masterlist

#bangtanhq #thetruthuntoldnet #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #jin x reader #Baker!seokjin #bts fanfiction #bts blog #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #Seokjin flatmates!Au #Seokjin friends to lovers

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dapandapod · 3 years

Text

Lambert the lark

On Ao3 here!

This one is for @mayastormborn, because singing Lambert and because Lambert looking very much indeed like Paul Bullion with his curly hair and fancy beard. I had fun.

Beware the swearing and actually rather filthy songs that Lambert likes. Oh and a surprise sentimental thing in the middle there. It was supposed to be a 5+1 but writing is hard so it turned into a 4+1. Please enjoy!

1. The bar

Let it be known Lambert likes to sing. Let it be known that when Lambert is drunk, he sings very loud.

Most patrons of the tavern he favours in the little shit town Mulbrydale, they know.

Most people living close to the tavern know too. And all the horses in the stable behind the tavern.

Yes, it is known that Lambert likes to sing.

The poor bard entertaining for the night is looking rather exasperated, and there is a bet going on in the corner when the bard actually will just march out. Lambert couldn’t care less. Earlier that day he got paid for a job well done, a basilisk tormenting the locals' livestock decapitated and shoved into the eldermans face.

It was glorious.

So it only makes sense to have a glorious finish, beer foam stuck in his mustache and voice roaring louder that the poor blond lad trying to play his lute. How the fuck does the loud drunk ginger know every song?!

It takes another three tries at a ballad until the bard gives up. Or rather, explodes.

“IF YOU ARE SO KEEN ON SINGING WHY DON’T YOU TAKE THE FUCKING STAGE?!” He screams at Lambert.

Money changes hand in the corner, the bard storms out, and Lambert takes the stage.

Let it be known that Lambert loves Fishmongers Daughter and knows all 27 verses.

Let it be known Lambert still did a better job pissdrunk than the actual bard.

2. The bath

Hot springs are the best thing ever. Really, nothing is as good as settling in to one of the stone pools and soaking in the slightly-too-hot water. Best thing those fuckers funding Kaer Morhen back in the days ever did.

Lambert leans back against the stone, his angry orange locks curling even tighter in the steam. In the next pool over sits Jaskier and Eskel, Geralt is still wrestling with his towel by the wall.

“Hot springs are the best thing ever.” Lambert says, voicing his thoughts. If the moan from Jaskier is anything to go by, he agrees.

“Move over.” Geralt mutters after finally being defeated by the towel.

Lambert opens an eye to peer at him, then spreads his arms across the edge of the pool and closes his eyes again.

“Asshole.” Geralt says fondly, then proceeds to climb over Lambert to get down into the pool.

Stark naked.

Lucky Lambert wasn’t looking, because otherwise it wouldn’t have been Geralt calling Lambert names, but Geralt instead declaring what Lambert was seeing.

“Aaaasshoooooleee.” Lambert sings, his voice bouncing around the walls, giving it a rather otherworldly feel.

“Oooh, nice resonance! Do it again!” Jaskier sits up a little straighter.

Lambert smirks and peeks at a glaring Geralt who now is soaking too.

“Aaassshoooooooolee.” Lambert sings again, and Jaskier joins him, harmonizing. It sounds lovely, so they do it again and again, creating a little melody.

“Please.” Geralt huffs, but he is smiling.

“Nah, I rather like it.” Eskel says agreeably, and really, if Geralt dislikes it Lambert has to continue. Those are the rules.

They experiment a bit with tempo, making it canon, Lambert taking a really low note that Jaskier can only barely meet, and oh the discord of that note sounds great too.

“I'm going to steal your job.” Lambert declares to Jaskier, when they dry off. “Im going to get so much fucking coin.”

Jaskier only snorts.

“I would like to see you try.” He says, amused.

Oh, little bard, you just wait.

3. The night

Silence is different in the woods. Especially at night. The way that everything is asleep, even the trees quieter than in the day. The fire crackles merrily anyway, the wood popping and fizzing. Lambert is feeling a little forlorn, he sits close to the fire and stares at the flames, hugging his knees to his chest.

Aiden is half laying on his bedroll next to him, working on a leather braid for his saddlebags.

It is strange, Aiden is right there, but Lambert feels lonely.

Achingly alone, small among the giant trees, old in a world that forever is new.

His mother died long ago. But her voice comes to him, words half forgotten and a melody that reminds him of honey and of sleep. Before he realize it, its leaking out.

He is humming, a deep murmur in his chest. He can see Aiden look up at him from the corner of his eye, but he keeps his eyes on the flame. Idly he drags his chin back and forth on his freckled arm, letting his beard scratch and soothe him. The heat of the flames feels good, his back too cold in contrast.

“What is that song?” Aiden asks quietly, he, too, afraid to disturb the night.

Lambert finally looks over at him, the light dancing on his face, making his hair look like its own fire.

“I don’t really know. My mother sang it to me.” Lambert never speaks of her. But this is Aiden, and the world is sleeping, and he tastes honey.

“Will you sing it for me?” Aiden asks, of course he does. This is why Aiden is here.

The words are old, the language has long since changed. He sings of rolling hills and budding flowers, of rivers feeling lonely and luring travelers into their cold embrace. He wonders if that is how drowners came to be.

Aiden watches him all the while, the braid still in his hands. Lambert watches the fire, sings lowly into the night.

It feels good, singing her song to the darkness. It feels ever better when he stops and peeks through his locks at Aiden.

Aidens face is hard to read, but his actions are not.

“Get over here, wolf.”

With Aidens arms around him, with the taste of honey on his lips, the crackling of fire behind him, Lambert joins the forest in its slumber.

4. The fight

It’s raining, fuck, it’s pouring down. Thunder is rumbling ahead, the raindrops fat and absolutely much wetter than rain has any right to be. They are soaked, the drop bounce off the armor, the weapons get slippery in their grip, their hair sticks to their faces and necks.

Geralt hates it. As they fight the griffin, he grumbles and mutters.

Lambert thinks he is being dramatic, really, it’s just some water. (Though, to be fair, it’s easy to be positive when Geralt is so extremely cranky. If Lambert was alone, he would be just as miserable, if not worse.)

The griffin is very big, and very angry.

It swoops down from the sky, Lambert aims with a crossbow at it’s wings.

“One little griffin were going shopping in town” he sings, clenching one eye closed while aiming. The griffin flies right above him, his talons inches from where his head was just a moment ago. Lambert swirls around untroubled, and aims again.

“But there came a Lambert, and shot it down.” Water is dripping from his eyebrows, eyelashes, running down his cheeks, but it doesn’t matter.

The shot is clean, it hits the target and a loud shriek announces that the griffin felt it too.

“Stop that! You are just pissing it off!” Geralt yells from the other side of the field, ducking from said pissed off griffin. Lambert smirks, shoving his hair out of his face with the crook of his arm, water sloshing everywhere.

It is a small miracle that he still has a grip on the crossbow. They charge the now grounded griffin, splitting up to make things difficult for it.

“ONE LITTLE GRIFFIN IS FEELING FEELING A LITTLE CRANKY!” Lambert sings, or rather howls, swinging his sword in a tight arc, aiming for the griffins flank. From the other side of the beast, Lambert can hear Geralt harumph in annoyance. It’s fun to work with family.

“BUT THERE CAME A LAMBERT AND-” Here Lambert has to pause.

He even takes a step away, scratching at his wet beard thoughtfully. He turns and yells towards a small grove of trees.

“JASKIER?! WHAT THE FUCK RHYMES WITH CRANKY??”

“Lambert come on!” Geralt yells, and yes, alright, fair.

“OH, NEVER MIND! I GOT IT! BUT THERE CAME A LAMBERT, HE GOTTA HELP GERALT, OR AIDEN WON’T GIVE HIM HANKY PANKY!”

“Wow! A true poet!” Geralt yells again over the shriek of the Griffin. “Now come help me fucking kill it!”

+1 The competition

"You really think you are going to win this?” Jasier says, disbelief and amusement clear in his voice.

“I hope you are ready to pay for my new sword, bardling.” Lambert says with a confident grin. Jaskier shrugs, strapping on his lute.

“Your loss. You do remember I am a very famous bard and poet across the continent, and a very sought after professor at Oxenfurt?”

Lambert makes a very charming snorting sounds and waves it away.

“Work hard tonight, and don’t think of trying to cheat!” Lambert tells him, and waves Eskel and Jaskier goodbye.

They agreed that Geralt is too biased towards Jaskier, so Eskel would go with him while preforming and Geralt with Lambert, to make sure none of them is cheating.

As if Lambert would need to cheat.

They walk towards a rather shadylooking bar by the docks, another one of Lamberts favorites. More than one turn around and give a (semi)friendly nod when he enters. The two of them order their drink and settle down.

“Soooo, when are you gonna go about earning those coins?” Geralt asks, sipping on his tankard.

“As soon as the poor lad stops his wailing. Gotta give him a chance, don’t you think?” Lambert smiles, and Geralt rolls his eyes.

There is indeed a poor lad by the elevated area, trying to sing heroic ballads with an accompanying lyre. Talk about reading the crowd wrong.

As soon as the lad is sat in a corner drowning his lack of success in wine, Lambert rises and stretches.

“Alright, time to make good on this bet.” Lambert steps up and begins clapping his hands in a beat. A few patrons see what he is doing and humours him, so he adds the stomping. And proceeds to sing the filthiest song he knows.

Without going into details, it involves what a lady has under her skirt, and how she uses it when she is a lady with mighty needs. To put it nicely. It takes exactly one verse and one chorus before the coins start.

Lambert gives Geralt a victorious smile.

“Alright, how much did you get?” Lambert asks Jaskier. “I hope you won’t have to add too much from your own pocket, swords are rather expensive.”

“132 crowns and 36 ducats.” Jaskier says with a triumphant smile. “The fine ladies at the brothel where quite generous.”

“Where is Eskel?” Geralt asks, looking around.

“Oh, he found a lady with horns and decided to see if they were real.”

“Again? He really has a thing for succubuses, doesn’t he?” Geralt muses.

“Sure seems like it. So, Lambert, how did it go? How much?”

Jaskier won. Lambert blames it on the florence, being slightly less of value than the crown. He lost by three. THREE. Lambert is pissed and Jaskier laughs, but really, he is sweating big time. Lucky he dresses in layers, because fuck that was close. Jaskier declines every challenge there after.

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tobesobri · 4 years

Photo

𝓣here was an ask meme going around about what scene was the sole inspiration behind your entire story and someone asked me what that scene was for Only Human and well it’s in this chapter and I will let yall guess which one it is :)

If you’d like a preview of Chapter 12 right now, you can join my patreon here! All proceeds will be donated to BLM. Thank you so much for all the love and support with this story ❤️

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER ELEVEN: ALL MY LOVE (4.7K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

If she thought she was miserable before, there was nothing quite like quitting Harry Styles. Especially when his concerned texts had stopped, and especially when she had to hear about him every night since she’d made her decision to never end up in his bed again. It became a regular thing that Will came home with news about Harry’s album and how things seemed to be going really well.

Without her, she thought. Things were going well now that he didn’t have her hanging onto him all the time like a little parasite.

Keeping her distance was hard, but she knew it would be better in the long run. Even if she had to have a few days of trouble getting out of bed. And crying herself to sleep again. She’d deal with it. It was better than living in a fantasy world with Harry.

Some of his things still took up space in her room. A grey hoodie from Randy’s Donuts, a pair of his socks. His house keys. The former she unfortunately found herself sleeping in once or twice. She hated herself for it, but she needed something. It was like switching to vapor to try and kick a smoking habit. Still not great, but not as bad as letting the addiction run its course.

She kept his keys in her nightstand, where they’d always been, but now they were just a bitter reminder of the last decent day they’d had with each other.

There were no regrets in her mind when she looked back on all of it. Maybe falling for Harry was a contender, but she wouldn’t take back any of their nights together if it meant she didn’t have to deal with her shattered heart. He’d helped her so much more than he even knew. He’d opened her up, showed her that not everyone’s hands had bad intentions. And most importantly, she learned to trust him, with her secrets, with her body, her entire life.

Two entire weeks had passed since she’d seen Harry and it only just began to hurt a little less. Still, Fridays and Saturdays were the hardest for her to get through because they’d been her favorite nights with Harry. By the third week, post-Harry, she had finally stopped thinking about him every hour until Will backpedaled all her progress at dinner on Tuesday night.

“I’m throwing Harry a surprise party at his house on Saturday.” He’d started, taking a bite of his chicken before continuing, “All of us in the studio with him put it together since he finally hit the halfway mark with writing. It’s not done but I know how hard it’s been for him so we felt like it was time to celebrate something, you know. Anyways,” he took another bite, “you’re all invited. Especially you.”

Will narrowed his eyes at Y/N, being the most aware roommate out of them all to know that she’d only been in a good mood a few days after the last party he took her to. She was back to hiding in her bedroom most days after that, so much that the past two weeks he wasn’t even sure if she was still alive at times. Something had clearly looked up when she finally joined them for breakfast and he was taking full advantage of it.

“I um… don’t think I can do another party at Harry’s.” She cringed, all the bitter memories of her last couple days with Harry flooding back.

Will sighed, recalling their conversation in the car the morning after. Maybe it wasn’t his best idea to invite her to another party Harry would be at, but if it would get her to do something besides work and hibernate, he’d take it. Besides, she said she didn’t like Harry that way and Will believed her. “It won’t be like last time.” He assured, “It’s mostly just people from the studio and his manager and stuff.”

She considered it. Maybe Harry would be too distracted with everyone else to pay her any attention. It didn’t take long, but she didn’t even want to try feeding Will excuses not to go. She wanted to see Harry again. And she hated herself for it, for not letting him go like she’d promised herself to do, and for stupidly being excited about seeing him again.

The ‘For Sale’ sign was still up in front of his house. Will talked her head off about it too, about the apartment Harry had shown him last week that he saw the ocean from.

She hated every second of it.

When they walked through the doors and she spotted how everyone else was dressed, she felt a wave of insecurities crash on her. Nobody was dressed as formal as she was, and maybe she wasn’t all that formal objectively, but she almost never wore dresses. Everyone was in jeans and polos or casual button-ups. A couple of women had on dresses too, but not quite like hers. They definitely didn’t wear heels either. She hated Will for not telling her she didn’t need to dress up, but, glancing over at him as they walked side by side into Harry’s kitchen, she realized she should have known better. He was also in jeans.

Some of them looked at her while she stood awkwardly beside Will, but luckily it wasn’t long after they had arrived that Harry was due back and the surprise part of his party got set into motion. There weren’t many people at his house, but they still hid everywhere they could, in his kitchen behind the island, crouched into corners together so that they weren’t visible from the front door. Everywhere it was physically possible to hide they did.

Except for Y/N. She didn’t want to see everyone happy for him. She didn’t want to know about how great his album was going to be or who he’d written his songs about. And she didn’t want to be among the faces of people he worked with, feeling so fucking out of place in her stupid fucking outfit she’d worn for stupid Harry who still didn’t fucking like her.

So she went someplace where she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. The room that welcomed her like a warm and unconditionally loving hug. Where she felt a wave of relief. Where she felt safe, sitting in his armchair at the end of his bed, staring out over the city lights in a way she didn’t think she would ever again.

She had no clue if he’d ever come up here and find her and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to. She just wanted to see the view one last time before it was gone forever.

The shouting from downstairs caught her attention because it was clear he had finally arrived. He could enjoy his night celebrating something huge for himself, even if it was only a small step in the making. She’d be out of his room before he found her in it anyways.

At least, that had been her plan. Just a little while longer and she’d leave. Spend the rest of her night stealing hopeless glances at him from across the room until she’d finally had enough and begged Will to take her home. That was the plan.

But it didn’t go as well in real life as it did in her head. Not when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs and she panicked. She stood before they got there, spinning around the room for someplace to hide but it was no use.

Harry stood in his doorway before she even got the chance to think of another plan. Instead, he caught her red-handed in the middle of his bedroom, alone.

“I, uh…” she pointed her thumb over her shoulder at his large window, “wanted to see--”

“The lights, yeah.” He nodded, finishing her sentence. She couldn’t help the hurt inside to see the smile stripped completely from his face the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

“What happened to you? You packed all your stuff and never answered my texts.” He took a step closer, his voice a little more commanding.

“I can’t do it anymore, Harry.” She mumbled, and he stopped walking towards her, completely taken aback by her words.

“Why not?” He breathed, feeling the heartbreak of the last few weeks without her all over again in his chest. He had even got so bad that after constantly turning down Will’s offers to hang out at the apartment, he nearly found himself begging Will to invite him over just to see her, but he knew that would have been a mistake. She needed her space and the way he’d felt about her after she told him to forget the kiss was more than enough to keep him away. He needed his space to stop being so mad at her.

But seeing her again, it all came flooding back.

She let out an exasperated laugh like he should know why. “You kissed me. And then?”

With his eyebrows furrowed, he came back at her twice as hard. “You told me to forget about it. So I did. Why are you mad at me for doing what you asked?”

He was right and there was no denying it. There was no more arguing with him about it. She dropped her shoulders and stared out the window again. “Can you please just tell me you did it because you were drunk? So I can move on.”

“Move on?” He snapped, his tone harsh enough to get her to look at him again, “You moved on from me the second I got home from New York, Y/N.”

She started to panic again, but this time there was no possibility of escaping. She had to face him, with or without tears in her eyes.

He continued while she was quiet. “I slept with her because I couldn’t sleep without you. I don’t understand how you’ve not realized that.” He continued.

“I don’t care who you sleep with, Harry.” She practically yelled at him and it took every inch of his self-control not to leap across the room when he realized she was crying.

“That’s the problem.” He deadpanned, keeping himself grounded instead of letting his emotions get the best of him like they always seemed to do.

“Harry!” Someone unfamiliar to Y/N shouted from downstairs, garnering both of their attention. “Hurry your ass up already!”

Pinching his bottom lip between his fingers, he turned back to face her, finding the tears that had spilled gone from her face like they’d never been there to begin with.

“I need to get dressed.” He explained and she quickly maneuvered herself out of his way. Not saying another single word to each other while she left his room and snuck back into the party she didn’t want to be at.

Glances were, in fact, shared between the both of them. Mostly because he wasn’t finished with her yet and in reality, neither was she with him. She could wallow in her self-pity all she wanted, telling herself Harry never liked her this or it was all in her head that. But she was fucking lost again without him the past couple weeks. Her only regrets now were leaving and she’d take it back in a heartbeat if she could. Just get over herself and be with him anyways because if she truly did not care who he slept with, she wouldn’t have let that stupid text message get the best of her.

She wouldn’t have spent every morning in the mirror telling herself she did not have a face Harry could ever love and bringing herself down for no fucking reason at all besides finding comfort in her own miserableness.

Hindsight is a bitch though.

The party died down sooner than his last one had, after they brought out a cake with a photo of Harry on it from long before Y/N knew him, possibly when he was sixteen or seventeen, she’d assumed, and then they proceeded to shove his twenty-five-year-old face in it and start a cake throwing war in the middle of his poor kitchen. That was when things died down. When some went home because they had children or were covered in cake and it was getting late, and others, who didn’t get absolutely pummeled by chocolate cake, stayed talking amongst themselves in his living room with empty glasses of champagne.

Y/N, on the other hand, was in an almost lifeless position beside Will on the bar stools at the island counter, barely listening while he and Harry and some others discussed stuff she knew nothing about all while Harry was still trying to get cake out of his hair.

She felt the agitating urge to clean up the rest of his kitchen, too, mostly because she couldn’t stand to look at it any longer. And maybe if she and Harry were on slightly better terms, she would be.

It was when Will’s phone rang that it finally got a lot quieter. There was still music playing softly in the background and chatter from others in a different room, but once Will took the call and left them all alone in the kitchen together, it was almost silent.

“You’re going to need to shower for like… forty minutes to get that all out,” Glenne teased. Y/N had learned she was Jeff’s girlfriend, and that Jeff was Harry’s manager. And she thought about how well all three of them knew each other and for how long while Glenne ran a strand of Harry’s messy hair between her fingertips to remove some stuck-on frosting.

“Forty minutes is a typical shower for him, try two days,” Jeff scoffed, poking fun at Harry’s expense.

“Heyyyy,” Harry grimaced, pretending to be offended as they both fucked with him, “stop taking the piss, I’m not in there that long.”

She hated that she agreed with Jeff. Harry did take long in the shower.

It felt weird, though, just watching them all interact, like she was someplace she wasn’t supposed to be. These were Harry’s friends and she was nobody to him, at least not publicly. And maybe not privately either. She had no clue how Harry felt about her, if he wasted any time even thinking about her at all anymore when she wasn’t around.

But then all eyes seemed to land on her. “Sorry, I forgot your name, um…” Glenne looked like she was reaching for something across the counter in front of Y/N while she tried mentally sifting through all the names she had to remember.

Harry answered before anyone could, however. “It’s Y/N. She’s… Will’s roommate.” Harry’s eyes went from Y/N, to Glenne, and finally landed on his manager. Giving him a look Y/N didn’t quite understand. Mostly because she was too focused on how cold he’d been talking about her, like she really didn’t mean a thing to him at all. She was just Will’s roommate to him. Even so, she couldn’t help feeling like it was more than she deserved from him.

“Y/N! Right! Can you hand me that phone right there?” She pointed to a discarded iPhone with a blue case that had been sitting in the same spot for quite a while, and Y/N returned it.

She didn’t say or do anything else after that, just slipped out of her chair, grabbed her purse and started walking away from them to find Will. She’d sufficiently had enough.

But when she reached the foyer, where she distinctly remembered Will running off too, he was nowhere to be found. She looked around for him a few moments more before pulling her phone from her purse to call him. Before she could, though, she noticed the text from him that had been sent five minutes prior.

(Will, 12:03 pm)

I’ll come back to pick you up. Sasha called, her mom’s in the hospital.

Her first reaction was shock, hoping that whatever was going on wasn’t too serious. And then she realized she was stuck at Harry’s after having already made her exit. She didn’t want to be mad though, Will had an emergency and it wasn’t like she hadn’t spent countless nights in Harry’s house before.

This was just one night she didn’t really want to spend here any longer.

And instead of waltzing herself back into the kitchen, she stepped outside for some fresh air. Or rather, she leaned into the doorway because it was far too cold to spend any length of time outside.

“Where’s Will?” Harry’s voice appeared from behind her and she twisted around quickly when he startled her.

“He had an emergency.” She slowly stepped back inside his house. “Said he’d be back to pick me up later.”

“Oh.” He paused, swallowing the nervous pit in his throat while whatever bottled up anger towards her that had been festering washed away. Seeing her standing there alone reminded him of every single one of her secrets she’d shared with him and even if he was mad, she didn’t deserve to be treated poorly by him. “You know you can stay here.”

She nodded, crossing her arms around herself and avoiding his eyes.

“I want you to stay.” He added once he got closer to her and her breath caught in her throat. He wanted her. Those words and the sweet smell of chocolate cake in his hair and just… him being near her again like this was enough to make her dizzy.

She thought about saying a million things to him, but settled on something that was classically her instead. “And I want you to take a shower.”

It was possibly the first time in weeks that she’d seen his smile. A genuine, dimply, toothy, Harry smile that made her hate all the time she spent missing out on it.

“Don’t go anywhere.” He pointed his index finger at her and she nodded just before he ran upstairs, taking them two at a time.

She didn’t like his house as much with all the people in it she didn't know. Not a single face she recognized as they littered all the places she and Harry had once been. The middle of his living room where they danced together. His kitchen where he’d given her a glass of water the first night they slept together. His couch where he’d given her the keys to his house.

Sighing, she found a spot where she could be by herself and texted Will back not to worry about her, that Harry was letting her sleep on the couch. Stretching the truth was something she did well when it came to Harry after all.

More people left, being seen out by Jeff and Glenne instead of Harry until what few people remained lingered on the sofas around her, drinking the last bits of wine he had left to offer and watching the logs burn out slowly in his fireplace.

Jeff plopped himself down beside Y/N and Glenne next to him, and while she was wrapped up in a conversation, he leaned slightly towards Y/N, keeping his voice down.

“Harry told me about you, you know.”

She looked up from her phone, a bit frozen in place as she slowly craned her neck over to him. He looked at her with a reassuring smile even though she was terrified to death. What exactly did Harry’s manager know about her?

“He’s been a pain in the ass recently thanks to you.”

“What?”

Before Jeff could explain anything, Harry was making his boisterous entrance back into what was left of the party. All cleaned up this time though with fresh clothes on and dampened hair. He looked like he’d just been working out with water leaving a sweat-like appearance on his forehead and what could be seen of his chest. He was still just as hot coming out of the shower and she mentally smacked herself for thinking it.

“Not saying that you all have to go home, but you do have to get the hell out of my house now.” They all laughed at him for a short while until everyone who had lingered to say their personal goodbyes and final congratulations to Harry started trickling off as he walked them all to his door. Jeff and Glenne were the last to go, but eventually she was alone again.

And she stayed on her phone until she heard his front door close and the familiar sounds of him pressing the code into his security system keypad. Her stomach did all sorts of twists from somersaults to cartwheels knowing it was just the two of them alone again. Knowing he was closing up his house while she was still in it. That she wasn’t going home tonight as planned after all.

“Are you sleeping in here?” He asked once he’d reached the open entrance to the living room, hovering his hand over the control panel, waiting for her before he shut off all the lights.

She pulled herself up from the couch after taking a deep breath. They were doing this again. And she knew damn well whether or not anything had happened with Will that she was going to end up in his bed somehow anyways. He followed her up the stairs and into his room again, lifting his fingers to graze her arm and get her to stop once they were smack dab in the middle of it.

When she turned to see what he was doing, his entire mood had shifted. He wasn't fun, bubbly Harry right now. He stared at her the way he had before he kissed her, except this time they were both completely sober. And maybe that’s why she let him take one step closer. She let him reach his hands around her back and carefully pull the zipper of her dress down.

“You still clean up nice,” he whispered, sending goosebumps all across her skin, “but you look even better in my shirts.”

Without even thinking, he pulled the shirt he currently wore off and over his head, handing it to her like a peace offering. But he just hoped she still needed him enough for at least one more night of their bullshit. He hoped she wanted him too, as much as he wanted her and he hoped that this wouldn’t even come close to being their last night.

They stared at each other while she switched outfits, his eyes never wavering from hers while she changed. Not that he didn’t want to look, but that he didn’t expect her to do it all right there in front of him like she had never done before.

“Better?” She asked once clothed again, her dress in a familiar pile on his floor.

He just nodded, slowly, and like he was in some kind of trance, especially when she turned on her heel and went straight for his bed. Getting in under the covers on her normal side and patting the empty space next to her for him to join.

Swallowing thickly, he slipped in beside her. Just like old times.

She turned on her side, facing her back to him and scooting herself right up against his front, grabbing his wrist to pull his arm over her and his body closer. All the cold words they had exchanged earlier in the night melting right away.

They got used to each other again, folding arms around each other so that there was no telling where Harry ended and Y/N began. He breathed in the beachy scent of her hair and she felt his heart beating against her spine. The three weeks she thought she could quit Harry were a total waste when they fit together just the way they always had. Like puzzle pieces who needed each other to finish the bigger picture.

Harry shifted slightly behind her and she felt the brush of his lips at her ear.

“You know the songs are about you, right?” He spoke softly, forcing her eyes to shoot open. And when he did it again, he said something that truly made her heart burst into a million tiny pieces of rainbow colored confetti. “Know you’re the one I’ve been in love with all along, don’t you?”

She twisted her head around to face him, to meet him a lot closer than they’d been since his last party. To look into his eyes and make sure he was being serious. And when she felt his heart pounding against her upper arm and his eyes steady as ever, she knew he wasn’t fucking around.

All he had to do was take one glance at her lips for her to twist herself just the tiniest bit further and mend them both back together again. This time there was no alcohol, there was no doubt or self-pity. No rock between them.

She slid her hand up his neck to his jaw, pulling him in while she arched her back against him to reach his lips properly. His own hand found a home at the side of her face as well, rubbing gentle strokes across her cheek as they finished where they left off all those nights ago.

Except this time, he had actually said what he needed to say to her before it was too late.

She felt him start to pull her onto him, as slowly as he possibly could. He gauged every one of her reactions just to make sure he never pushed her too far. And when she was half on top of him with her leg wrapped around his and one of his hands on her waist, things got a little deeper.

She held his face in both her hands, breathing heavily every time she got the chance to before going right back in for more. And his lungs burned too, moaning against her lips every time he lost his breath.

This time when she pulled away, it wasn’t to apologize or give him a look like she regretted it. Instead, she laughed and let him get some oxygen back into his system.

He had her again not even seconds later, though, and she was too wrapped up in it to even care about anything else. She’d save it all for the morning. Right now all she wanted was his lips and his hands on her lower back, wrinkling the fabric of her shirt in his hold so much that he exposed her pale pink underwear beneath the covers. She didn’t really care about that either.

What she did care about, however, was when he snuck a hand up underneath the back of her shirt, feeling his fingertips on her bare skin there for the first time ever. And instead of feeling scared, she opened her eyes slightly and saw him. That it was Harry she’d learned to trust. To touch her, to hold onto her secrets, and keep them safe. And he made everything so much better than it already was.

She explored his body a little bit more too, grazing her hand over his chest while he kissed her harder. Feeling his heartbeat in her palm and then his biceps tensing beneath his skin.

She let him undo the clasp of her bra, both hands around her back to get it off within a second, even while he was distracted. He knew she didn’t sleep in it, so he was only doing her a favor. Because now was not the right time to do anything he wanted to. There were still a lot of unsaid words and he really couldn’t keep his eyes open much longer anyways.

They separated again when she pulled away to remove the straps and throw the thing off the side of the bed while he grinned at her.

Coming back to him, he caught her face in his hand before she violated his lips any further. “I could kiss you all night, but I’m genuinely exhausted,” he whispered sleepily.

She shook her head at him, “And people say I’m the lightweight.” Scoffing, she instead settled into his side, resting against his chest in her familiar spot and watched his chest move up and down rapidly until he eventually caught his breath and fell asleep.

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#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #onlyhuman

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terreisa · 3 years

Text

Love Down the Line: Epilogue

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, AO3

~*CS*~

Los Angeles, Three Years Later

“You know, the last time I was here they only gave me those itty bitty bottles of water.”

Killian laughed to himself but kept his eyes trained to his phone. He knew if he looked up the love of his life would be scowling at the unnecessarily large bottles of expensive water lined up along the counter of the green room they were waiting in. Emma Swan was prone to many wonderful things but graciously giving up on a grudge was not one of them.

“The last time you were here you hadn’t won five Grammys in one fell swoop. When I was doing the first interviews with Realm of Jewels we were lucky to get cups of tap water. We thought a slice of lemon was the height of luxury.”

“Yeah, well that was what? Three hundred years ago?” She teased, moving across the room to flop down beside him on the couch with a huff, “They should at least have a water cooler or something. Reusable bottles are the way of the future.”

“First you complain about the water they’re providing and now you’re complaining about the one their not? Can they do nothing to please you?”

He looked over at her with a raised brow and she gave him a smirk.

“They fired Walsh so that’s a step in the right direction.”

“Thank bloody fuck,” he growled, turning back to his phone with a scowl.

Emma had eventually told him the full extent of what had happened the day of her interview with Walsh Hoakley. Not only had the wanker reported gossip as though it were truth, which caused the brief falling out between him and Emma that had made them both miserable, but the berk had hit on her not ten minutes after. When she finally had told him, only a few days after they had reconciled, it had taken an hour for him to calm down and at least a week for her to convince him not to fight her battles for her. The news of Hoakley’s firing less than a year later had been celebrated with a sparkling cider toast.

“So-” Emma peered over his shoulder and he felt some of his tension melt away, “What’s got you paying more attention to your phone than the expensive goodies they’re trying to get on our good side with?”

With a snort he tilted his phone towards her, “Just going over the contract one last time.”

“We have a fancy lawyer for that don’t we?” She asked crossing her arms as she sat back, “And Ruby wouldn’t try to scam you. I mean, look what’s happened since she decided to become my manager instead of staying in my backing band.”

“Well, aside from those five Grammys I mentioned-”

“What?!” Emma’s brows shot up and her mouth dropped open in clearly feigned shock, “I won five Grammys? I had no idea!”

“Hush, love, you deserved them and I’m honored to brag on your behalf,” he chided though he gave her a wink, “Although, I don’t rightly think we can give Ruby the credit for that.”

She scoffed and burrowed further into the couch, “If she hadn’t forced me to let you audition then we wouldn’t have met. Then we wouldn’t have had our grand romance that in turn inspired In the Middlemist and I wouldn’t have won those Grammys.”

“I believe that we would have met eventually, love. If not through our careers then we would have certainly been invited to Ruby’s wedding where I would have been immediately smitten with the blonde in the crimson bridesmaid dress,” he said lowly, pleased to see her cheeks flush.

“And I probably would have freaked out even more meeting you for the first time there than at the studio. You know how much I like seeing you in a suit-” she said huskily, leaning up to press a soft kiss under his jaw. Then she sat back and smiled wide, “Even then Ruby would still be the reason we met. That’s why I dedicated it to her and not you.”

“Is that why? I thought it was because you were still upset with me over the tiny misunderstanding over your choice in vehicle.”

He gave her a knowing look and she glared right back at him. When he raised his brow in challenge she rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine, that was part of it,” she conceded, “But I did mention you in every acceptance speech.”

“Which was wonderful aside from the camera they kept shoving in my face to capture my every proud tear in HD,” he grumbled, remembering the repeated messages from Will that were just the GIF of him crying after Emma had said she loved him onstage holding her third award of the night. He blew out a breath, “As I was saying: aside from all that I will admit that your career has flourished under Ruby’s care. She has become quite the adversary of Regina, stealing her best clients away.”

“Regina’s over it now,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand, “Ever since you reintroduced her to Robin in a non-business setting and then moved to that corner office things have been great.”

Just as he was about to make a somewhat lewd comment as to exactly why both those things would put Regina in a good mood there was a knock on the door. It was opened a moment later by the intern that had initially led them there.

“They’re ready for you, if you’d like to follow me.”

He let Emma proceed him as he stowed his phone in his pocket. She was right, of course, Ruby wouldn’t dream of sneaking in last minute changes to the contract making her his new manager. If anything she would have been fine with a verbal agreement and the promise of making her the godmother of whatever child he and Emma might have. Unfortunately all of their fancy, and expensive, lawyers required things in writing and in triplicate.

The intern led them to a broadcasting studio that looked like every other one he’d ever been interviewed in. One glaring difference, however, was the radio host who squealed when she saw them and practically skipped towards them with open arms.

“Finally, you guys! I’ve been waiting all week for this!”

Emma laughed and accepted the hug easily, “Us too, Tink. Killian’s had it marked in all of our calendars the second Ruby booked it.”

Tink pulled back from Emma and gave him a wide smile, “I’d heard she finally got you to make it official. There’s no stopping her now.”

“As though there was a chance before,” he chuckled. “Lovely to see you again, TInk.”

“If you guys lived here I’d see you more,” she chided gently before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him, “Everyone’s still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Of course, Will wouldn’t let us hear the end of it if we didn’t,” he scoffed, giving her a light squeeze before letting go.

“Great! I still can’t believe he ditched Emma to be in your band,” She said with a laugh, grinning broadly at Emma’s frown. Something over his shoulder caught her eye and she nodded before focusing back on them, “Alright, my producer’s about to throw a fit if we waste any more time. Go ahead and get settled while I do my thing.”

As he and Emma moved to the seats awaiting them Tink bounced over to her chair and donned her headphones. With a bit of awe and intimidation he watched Tink easily slip into performance mode, softening her accent and dialing up her enthusiasm as she introduced herself and the start of her broadcast block. She hadn’t been a DJ for long but he could clearly see she had found her calling. When she teased their interview she gave them an overexaggerated wink that had him stifling a laugh.

After two songs and a small promo of Enchanted’s other stations Tink gave them a thumbs up as her producer let them know that their mics were live.

“That was the latest from The Killers and I don’t know about you but I’m more than ready for their new album to be released. I’m Tink and this is Rock Alt, home to all the alternative rock hits here on Enchanted XM. Today is a very exciting day because in the studio with me, right this very moment, are two people that you should be very familiar with: five time Grammy winner and indie darling Emma Swan and two time Grammy winner and alt rock god Killian Jones. Once upon a time I toured with Emma as part of her backing band and on one of those more memorable tours Killian decided to join us. Welcome, welcome!”

“I can truthfully say we’re excited to be here,” Emma chimed in brightly, her grin wide and happy.

“Yes, thanks for having us, love,” Killian said warmly. “Though I feel it’s only right to mention that those two Grammys were won with Realm of Jewels.”

“Aw, it’s only a matter of time before they’ll be joined by plenty of others, especially with this new album-” Tink waggled her eyebrows and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to go easy on them just because she was their friend. “There’s no question that you two are more than just friendly collaborators, with a couple of writing credits on each other’s albums and a duet on Killian’s acoustic cover album of Realm of Jewels’ greatest hits. We’ve also seen the red carpet photos and Instagram glimpses of your romance.”

He looked over at Emma and received an eye roll in return. When they’d first truly started dating they’d kept it hidden from anyone that wasn’t close friends or family. They had both felt that they wanted to start their relationship without the hounding from the press and scrutiny from the gossip mongers. It wasn’t until nearly a year and a half later, when Emma had clearly been his date to American Music Awards, that they’d gone public. Even then they had both agreed that they’d keep their personal lives as private as possible and continued to do so. Including the fact that they’d been married for two years.

“But now you’ve released a surprise album as a duo,” Tink continued, “going by the name Charles & Leia, which also happens to be the title of the album. It’s amazing by the way and if any of you out there haven’t listened to it yet I suggest you do so, but only after this interview is over, of course. So, how did this come about and why Charles & Leia?”

Emma gave him a shrug and a nod and he leaned closer to his mic, “As you mentioned earlier we’ve been playing together for some time now. After that tour I was a part of we were both starting on our next albums and would often work through arrangements or fine tune lyrics, using the other as a sounding board. This has, as evidenced, continued through the years until one day we thought we might try our hands at creating a whole album together.”

“We didn’t want it to be an album of my songs featuring him or vice versa though,” Emma chimed in. “Then it would have just been the same thing we’d already been doing which would have been fun but kinda boring at the same time. We wanted to challenge ourselves to create something new together from the beginning. Luckily our label was open to the idea and let us run with it.”

“And the name?” Tink prodded.

“A bit of an inside joke, really,” he said with a chuckle, reaching over to clasp Emma’s hand in his, “Whenever we made reservations or had to give a name for whatever reason I used Charles and Emma used Leia. I don’t even remember why-”

Emma snorted, “When he made the reservations for our first date and they asked for a name he panicked. We’d been watching The Crown and he blurted out the name Charles. At least he didn’t completely lose his shit and say Elizabeth.”

Emma’s eyes widened at the curse and clapped her hands over her mouth. Tink waved her hand in dismissal. Not a moment later the producer let them know through their headphones that cursing was fine but to keep it to a minimum if possible.

“Anyway,” Emma said evenly, though her cheeks were pink, “When it was my turn to make reservations I kept it going. Princess Leia was my hero when I was a kid. Still is actually.”

“As she is for us all,” Killian jumped in, “Of course we no longer use those as our aliases but when we were trying to decide how we wanted to present ourselves for this album this seemed appropriate.”

“We also figured it would give people the chance to listen to the songs without already having an idea of what they thought it should sound like because they knew it was us,” Emma explained, “I mean, it’s not like we’re trying to deceive anyone or anything but a lot of times people don’t try something out because they think they know exactly what it’s going to be. I know I’m totally guilty of it sometimes.”

“I’ve been listening to the album non-stop since it came out last week and you’re absolutely right, if I hadn’t already known that it was you two I wouldn’t have even been able to guess. Now, I’ve played alongside both of you and have been a fan of each of your music since both of your beginnings and I have to say, Charles & Leia is nothing like the music you’ve released before. What would you say were the biggest influences on how you approached the creation of this album?”

Killian took a moment to consider Tink’s question. He immediately dismissed sharing the long convoluted answer that began with innocent questions about one another’s past that led to a months long search into the mystery of Emma’s beginnings that came up empty while he nearly spiralled out of control once more over the unhealed pain of his borderline abusive and neglectful father. They were still working through some of those issues in therapy and even with the personal nature of the songs they’d written he didn’t feel it was necessary to elaborate on what the lyrics already implied.

“I can’t speak for Emma but for me it’s a look to the past and what influence it has on the present and the future. Take the title track for instance, my mother was Irish so I looked to the old Celtic folk songs and the instruments used, mimicking the flow of the music before playing around with more modern sounds. The result was entirely unique but still felt familiar, like an auditory deja vu, if you will.”

Tink was nodding furiously while Emma rolled her eyes at him, “I definitely won’t be that eloquent but yeah, we both have things in our past that sometimes takes a toll on who we are today. Our music was already pretty personal. I mean, I’ve written songs about growing up in foster care or when I was in jail but this was something else. Every day when we finished recording whatever song we were working on I felt like I’d been turned inside out and then wrung out but in a good way? It makes no sense but I’ve also never been this proud of one of my albums.”

“Well you should both be damn proud! I may be the tad bit biased but I think this may be the best album to come out this year and we’re only halfway through,” Tink effused.

“Thank you lass,” he mumbled as he scratched behind his ear at the compliment.

He caught Emma’s eye and she gave him an indulgent smile. She was well aware that sincere praise always tended to discomfit him, as he felt he was undeserving of it, especially when it came from someone he knew well. It was something he was working on getting better at accepting, with her help of course.

“Since the album was a surprise release there hasn’t been any confirmation of a tour yet. Any chance we’ll be seeing you two taking this act on the road?”

“We’re doing a kind of a mini tour on the east coast and then a couple of dates out here,” Emma explained, her eyes sparkling, “We didn’t want to get too ahead of ourselves and book a bunch of dates and then not have anyone show up.”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Tink dismissed with a bright laugh, “From what I’ve been told nearly every show is sold out. So if any of you listeners out there want to see Emma and Killian perform songs from this brilliant new album I’d say don’t wait to buy your tickets. I already have mine.

“Now, I know this album is only weeks old and you both have flourishing solo careers but I have to ask: can we expect even bigger things from you two in the future?”

With a smile he had no hope of quelling he gave Emma a wink, though he was reasonably sure that it was nowhere near subtle. It didn’t matter though, as no one had a clue what it could mean since she had only shown him the positive pregnancy test earlier that morning. Emma gave him a beaming grin of her own and he kept his eyes on her as he spoke into his mic.

“I think you can, Tink. In fact, I’m quite certain that this is merely the happy beginning of grand things to come.”

#captain swan #cs fan fic #cs fanfic #cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan fan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fan fiction #ouat ff #my writing

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andotherbiases · 4 years

Text

deleted scene(s) from “Into the Fall”, vers. 3

I forgot to mention that Into the Fall is rated E so these scenes do contain mature language/situations.

And now onto another version of a scene that was deleted. This one features a lot of Juri and the fairytale aspect is a little different in this one, but I hope you enjoy.

note: anything in italics is from the published version.

deleted scene, vers. 1 deleted scene, vers. 2

Version 3: Friendship & Fairytales

“So what, are you and Kang-tae back together again?”

Moon-young nearly chokes on her drink. “What?” she wheezes.

It’s Sunday, and the cafe where they’re having brunch is loud and busy. They’re sitting on the patio, being warmed by a summer breeze, and Moon-young thinks she might need to order another bubbly drink to have this conversation.

“It’s a valid question,” Juri declares as she twirls pasta around her fork.

“Why would Kang-tae and I be back together?”

Juri levels a look at her. “Are you seriously going to try to deny this?”

Moon-young just blinks at her.

Groaning, Juri sets her fork down and begins to count fingers. “First, you spend all your free time with him. Second, you go to him when you’re sad. When you’re happy. When you’re bored, even. Third, you depend on him for a lot more than manuscript edits and orgasms.”

“It’s not like that. It’s casual. We’re friends,” Moon-young stresses.

“No, we’re friends,” Juri retorts. “But you and Kang-tae? Whatever you are, it certainly isn’t friends. Co-workers to friends to lovers to ex's to friends-with-benefits to...what?”

“It’s complicated. There’s history there.”

“You always say that. That it's complicated between you two,” Juri says. “I’ve never quite understood it, because it seems like you could easily uncomplicate things. You don’t want to be with him? Then stop hanging around him. If you want to be with him, then just be with him.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, actually, it is,” Juri counters.

“No, it’s not,” Moon-young counters. “Have you forgotten that we’ve already tried to be a couple? That we already gave it a shot. And where did that lead us? We were miserable when we were together.”

“But will this be enough for you? Enough for him?” Juri presses. “This non-relationship?”

“Maybe this is just the best we can do.”

Juri sighs before reaching for her glass. “You know, for two people who are so clearly in love with one another, you two really are the biggest idiots.”

Moon-young’s fork hits the ground.

“You know it won’t be enough, right?” Juri says finally. “That one day he’ll want more. And that the reason why he’s even putting up with this stupid non-relationship is because he’s in love with you.”

“And although you call me your best friend, even I know that title belongs to Moon Kang-tae. But don’t worry, I’ve gotten over it, thanks for asking.”

Moon-young’s head is spinning, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol she’s consumed.

So it isn’t entirely a surprise when Moon-young ends up on Kang-tae’s doorstep. He lets her in without a word, almost as if he had been expecting her.

They’re sitting at the kitchen counter, cups of cooling tea before them. They’re just sitting, sometimes exchanging words but mostly just sitting in the moment, sharing the space together. Silence stretches on between them, but it isn’t empty nor is it burdensome. It occurs to Moon-young that he is the only person that she feels comfortable enough with to not have to say anything at all.

Kang-tae is sitting by her side, nursing his mug and waiting to listen to anything that she might say. His usual suits and coiffed hair are replaced with casual t-shirts and a pair of thick glasses. On the table next to them are notes from some manuscript, the red scrawls from his pen bleed across the page.

“I’m sorry for interrupting. You were working,” she says, only just piecing together that he might have been busy when she arrived at his door.

He waves her off. “It’s not important.”

They lapse into silence once more.

A single thought runs through her mind.

Does he love me does he love me does he love me?

“Moon-young,” Kang-tae says finally, reaching for her hand. And the way that he’s looking at her, all his affection and all his love for her reflecting in his eyes, and she doesn’t need an answer.

She snatches her hand back.

“I have to go,” she says abruptly, standing from her seat.

“Don’t do this,” he tells her, trying to hold onto her. “Moon-young!”

“This was just supposed to be sex,” she cries. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me!”

“I’ve always been in love with you!” he responds.

“What?”

“I can’t help it,” he holds her by the shoulders, hoping against hope that she’ll stay. “I’ve always loved you.”

She feels the world tilt on its axis and it steals her breath. “I have to go.”

And she runs, right out of that kitchen, right out of his apartment, and down the block until he’s no longer calling her name, no longer trying to follow her.

One week passes.

Then another.

And Moon-young thinks of Kang-tae every day.

“What did you do now?” Juri says by way of greeting when Moon-young enters the apartment.

“I think, something very bad.”

The smirk falls off Juri’s face. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Moon-young’s face crumples. “No.”

She proceeds to tell Juri everything. About that night at Kang-tae’s apartment. How she had run away. The way he had looked so devastated. Moon-young talks about the regret, the overwhelming guilt, and most of all, the sudden understanding of what she was about.

She did care about him.

No, it was more than that.

Moon-young loved him.

Had always loved him. Was still in love with him.

And she missed him so much.

Juri’s advice?

“Grovel,” she states, nodding her head while taking a slice of pizza from the box. “Grovel, beg, apologize.”

Moon-young blinks at her. “That’s it? That’s your advice?”

Juri pauses mid-bite. “And hope like hell that it works.”

“That’s shit advice.”

“It’s solid advice,” Juri counters. “You want some advice? Fine. You and Kang-tae are the biggest idiots I have ever met. It is so obvious that you want to be together, but for some reason, you two keep creating obstacles for yourselves. And then both of you throw tantrums at the first sign of trouble.”

Moon-young opens her mouth, but Juri cuts her off.

“You are so scared that you’ll be too much for him. That one day he’ll find that he can’t deal with you anymore, so you hold him at arm’s reach. You keep him at a distance. You want things to be easy and fun, and take a sign of trouble as a reason to give up before you get hurt. If you want something real with Kang-tae, something that lasts, then you have to have faith that he’ll stay by your side. That he won’t abandon you.”

Her words pierce Moon-young straight through the heart.

“And,” Juri continues, “you have to fight for him.”

“Fight for him?”

She nods. “Yes, fight for him. At this point you’ve broken his heart now not just once, but twice. He needs to know how you feel.”

“How do I do that?”

“I don’t know, you’re the creative one! Write him a poem or something.”

Now it is Moon-young’s turn to make a face. “I am not going to write some shitty love poem.”

Juri just rolls her eyes. “Fine, write him a freaking book for all I care. But if he is worth it to you, then you have to do something. He has to know that you’ll fight for him. That you’re willing to put in the effort for a fresh start.”

Moon-young doesn’t say anything else, but nods as she considers Juri’s advice. She picks up a pizza slice.

“You two are really annoying, you know that, right?” Juri grumbles between bites. “I swear I think you do this just for the drama of it all.”

“Juri.”

“Hm?”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

A pause. A short smile, a small shrug.

“Well then at least you know you tried.”

Moon-young spends the next few days writing a new story.

Of a princess with a heart one size too small. And how she kept everyone in the world at a distance, because she was scared that her small heart wouldn’t be able to bear it if anyone got too close. And of a boy, who respected her boundaries and still chose to walk next to her. Over time, the distance between them on these walks grew smaller and smaller, until they were almost touching. But that scared the princess because the closer the boy got to her the faster her too-small heart would beat. The princess would worry that he would hear the rapid flutter of her small heart, and he would know that she was different. And then he wouldn’t walk with her anymore. So she had him kicked out of the kingdom to prevent him from discovering the truth about her. Only the princess realized that she missed the boy. With no one by her side, she was incredibly lonely. She realized that she had made a grave mistake because she had gotten used to her small heart beating in double time whenever he was around. Without him, it felt like her heart was beating too slowly. Everyday the princess waited for the boy to return to her and bring with him the other beat of her heart. And when he did not return, she wondered if she was too late. So she wrote a letter that the boy might hear from her directly, disguised it as a bird song, and sent it off to find him. Then the princess waited for the boy’s response.

It is a fairytale.

For an audience of one.

It will never be sent to her publisher. Never be sold in any bookstore.

Still, it is the most important book she’s ever written.

She mails the fairytale off and waits.

The next day, Moon-young receives a call from the agency with some big news. First, Moon Kang-tae is no longer her agent. Effective immediately. Second, she would now be represented by a Lee Sang-in.

“Excuse me,” she interrupts, “could you tell me why the change? What happened to Kang-tae?”

“Oh, right,” the voice on the line hums. “I forgot to mention that.”

“Unfortunately, Moon Kang-tae requested for the contract to be terminated.”

When Juri arrives at Moon-young’s apartment, she comes bearing gifts. Gifts by way of bright green soju bottles.

“Screw Moon Kang-tae,” Juri slurs.

“Fuck him,” Moon-young agrees.

Later, Juri holds Moon-young’s hair back when she gets sick and wipes her tears when she can’t hold them in anymore.

[MY to visit KT’s office the next day]

#itf

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mcheang · 4 years

Note

How about a sequel to Volpina reverse crush AU where Lila is jealous of Mari and tries to sabotage her but fails cuz everyones on Maris side. Mari(gently) confronts her Lila snaps at her Alay records livesteam all H word breaks loose 4 lila even worse

Fighting a losing battle

Volpina reverse crush AU sequel

Lila is a class pariah at first, until she makes a heartwrenching apology that fools the soft-hearted suckers like Rose and Marinette. They do invite her to eat with them but the rest of the class is more leery of her apology, knowing that Lila only cares about herself if she just tosses others’ belongings into the trash. But out of respect to their friends, they let Lila sit with them and just ignore her.

Lila tries to cozy up to Adrien but he avoids her like the plague. The only reason she gets close enough is because he is trying to get Marinette away from her.

It is absolutely sickening to watch Adrien fawn over Marinette. He keeps close by so he can be ready to catch her should she fall. He keeps calling her by that overly sweet pet name Princess.

What makes it infuriating is that Marinette is utterly oblivious to Adrien’s flirting. Seriousy, all those offers out to restaurants and cafes, unnecessary drives to her home, and hand kisses!

A gorgeous specimen like Adrien is wasted on the imbecile that is Marinette.

Maybe if Adrien could realize that, his heart would move on. First she had to get into the Friend zone before that could happen.

Lila asks Marinette how she can befriend Adrien. Marinette suggests a video game party. Yeah, the only reason Adrien acknowledges Lila is because Marinette pleaded for him to give her a second chance. How could he say no to those baby blue eyes? Adrien doesn’t want to look bad in front of his crush. Understandable.

Once Lila is sure Adrien is alright with being friends with her (he isn’t. she makes him feel uncomfortable) she proceeds to sabotage Marinette.

1. Steal Marinette’s planner so all her fundraising and class trip plans are ruined. Fail: Alya has a back up copy

2. Humiliate Marinette by putting exploding paint in her locker. Fail: Adrien offers Marinette his outer jacket and the girls help Marinette clean up.

3. Steal Marinette’s sketchbook so she can’t complete her commissions in time. Fail: Marinette’s tears end up with Adrien asking Markov to check the security feed. Lila has to hastily plant the evidence in front of Nathaniel so he can announce he found the sketchbook before she is exposed.

4. Frame Marinette of cheating and theft (she can’t push Marinette into someone else because she is known for clumsiness and Lila can’t pretend to be pushed because of her record). Fail: The test answers were stolen after it was over and the lockers are unlocked. The stolen item was Rose’s perfume but she believes in Marinette.

Marinette is curious about why these horrible things keep happening to her. Markov hacks the security feed and exposes Lila.

Upset, Marinette confronts Lila. She denies it at first before finally showing her true colours.

“It’s about time you realized it. For the class president, you don’t really know your classmates as well as you should.”

Marinette was baffled. “But why? I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

Lila scoffed. “Nice? What can I do with nice? The entire class looks up to you as this amazing designer. Celebrities endorse you. Paris’ cutest boy looks at you like you’re an angel descended from Heaven. Yet you do absolutely nothing to take advantage of all that. Their admiration is wasted on someone so obtuse!”

Marinette paused. “So you’re just jealous of me?”

That simple, gentle accusation got to Lila. How dare Marinette reduce her, the pretty and silver tongued Italian, to nothing more than a petty, jealous girl?

Lila lunged at Marinette and there was a brief tussle as Marinette tried to get the crazy girl off her.

“That’s enough Lila!”

The girls paused, looking up to see Alya walk around the corner, her phone recording everything.

Footsteps were heard running towards them.

“Get off Marinette. Now.” Alya commanded.

Lila slowly obeyed, her eyes trained on the phone.

Alya noticed and gave a wink. “It’s been livestreaming.”

Lila wanted to shriek with rage.

“Marinette!” The cry came from Adrien as he rushed to help Marinette up, pushing Lila away from her.

Marinette assured the model. “I’m alright.”

Adrien gently stroked the scratches on her neck. “No, you’re not,” he said softly and sadly.

The class gathered around them, some glaring at Lila, others fussing over Marinette.

“What the hell, Lila?”

“Come on, Marinette, let’s take you to the nurse.”

“I’m not even surprised. We all knew she was a lying fox.”

“Don’t drag foxes into this. Rena Rouge’s name doesn’t deserved to be besmirched by this wannabe.”

“Careful, don’t trip.”

Alya: You’re coming with me to the principal’s office now.

Lila is expelled for assaulting and bullying a classmate.

She stews over her defeat, imagining Adrien catering to Marinette’s every need. Oh come on. All she did was inflict a few scratches.

To make matters worse, Alya had been live-streaming on her blog. Mrs Rossi is struggling to find any respectable school in Paris that would take her in.

She can’t. Lila is infamous throughout Paris, especially after Nadja reported on Alya’s video, and Jagged Stone himself blacklisted Lila to his global fan club. Even Adrien’s fans have gotten in on the fun.

The only options are for Lila to either be sent to live with her strict grandparents in their obscure hometown of nowhere, or go to a correcting school for delinquents.

Does it matter what school she goes to? Thanks to Jagged, there will always be someone at whatever school who knows who she is and will have the proof to back it up. At least with her Mother, Lila has more freedom.

Lila’s Mother is fired because her parenting of Lila, and even ends up being akumatized, not that Hawkmoth hadn’t been sending akumas after the outraged classmates and Lila herself before that. It was Gabriel who sent a charge against Lila for sexual harassing his Son. He got quite a few akumas over that.

Mrs Rossi decides to move them back to her parents’ home after all. They can’t stay in Paris and there is no more reason to now that she is unemployed.

Lila’s life in Italy is miserable because now her guardians have every excuse to invade her privacy. They call her every hour, call her Teachers daily, and even check her email and internet history! Lila’s sleep is interrupted as her guardians have taken it in turns to check that Lila is asleep every hour of the early morning. Don’t they have a life of their own?

Everybody at her new school mocks her. A few kind ones offer to be her Friend but Lila’s tearful acceptance was treated with skepticism by the cruel majority. No one wants to listen to Lila. She is nobody and she is unheard. It is like she is not even there.

At home she is given attention she does not want. At school, nobody gives her the attention she needs to cause drama. What a paradox

Note: Marinette had asked Adrien if he had a crush on her. Adrien lies and says he is just in awe of her designing ability. While Marinette is not happy there are so many akumas, she is thrilled to be able to spend more time with Chat Noir.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #adrienette #lila karma #lila is exposed #lila gets exposed #lila bashing #lila salt #ml salt fic

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loca-girl · 4 years

Text

~Even The Invincible Iron Man Can Get Sick~

•This is a fic about Tony being sick, Peter finding out, and him being the good son he is taking care of Tony.•

Tony felt terrible.

He had woken up that morning with a terrible headache and some nausea.

Yeah, what a great start to the day.

Tony felt completely drained and had even given into the thought of just laying in bed all day.

Which was so unlike him.

Usually Tony hated sleep and often pulled all nighters, that is, until a certain spider child decided to nearly copy everything he did. He didn't want Peter to follow into his bad habits so Tony begrudgingly went to bed and slept at night.

When Tony's feet made contact with the cold floor of the ground below, he couldn't help but shiver and let out a gasp. Quickly bringing his feet back up.

Hugging the comforter tightly around his body, he tried a second attempt at getting out of bed.

Luckily this time he was successful, though his reward was painful and cold.

He took in a breath of the cold air and coughed, moving the comforter so that he could cough into the warm fabric.

This day just kept getting worse and worse.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.," Tony's voice sounded dry and sickly. "What time is it?"

"It is exactly 8:34 sir," The AI responded. "I would suggest staying in bed today as you have a fever of approximately 101.2 degrees. Would you like me to alert Ms. Potts?"

"No, no! That won't be necessary F.R.I." Tony responds, not really wanting Pepper to know yet. "I'll tell her myself even though I'm sure it looks obvious. If I feel this shitty on the inside, I'm sure I look it on the outside."

And he was right.

Looking into a mirror, Tony saw dark circles under his eyes. Sweat coated his forehead even though he was freezing, and his hair was a tangley and sweaty mess as well.

All around, he looked terrible.

Tony decided to take a hot shower that he hoped would make him look and feel better.

He turned the water as hot as he could and got in.

It felt good and helped him into a more awake state.

He could do it.

He could take on the day and forget all about whatever the fuck bug decided to crawl into his system.

That state of mind however, left when he emerged from the shower.

The headache returned to what felt like ten times worse, and the nausea too.

"Ugghhhhh." Tony groaned and put a hand on his forehead.

"What the fuck Tony?" Pepper's voice came from out of nowhere.

"Holy shit Pep, where did you come from?" Tony exclaims, moving the hand down onto his arc reactor. Pepper had scared the shit out of him.

"Holy shit yourself Tony," Pepper moves into the bathroom and over to Tony. "Here, let me help."

Pepper places her hand softly on Tony's forehead.

"You have a fever." She confirms.

"Yeah I know," Tony responds. "F.R.I. told me."

"Well why wasn't I informed? You shouldn't be up Tony. You need to be in bed."

"I was going to tell you. Guess I don't need to do that now." Tony mumbles.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed." Pepper wraps her arms around Tony's waist and back so she can help him to bed.

"Pep, I love you and I appreciate you so much. But I can get to bed on my own I mean hell, I got out of it." Tony unwraps her arms and carefully holds her hands in his own clammy and sweaty ones.

"Shut up and let's go." Pepper pulls him out of the bathroom and to the bed.

She makes Tony sit down on the bed and leaves to go get him some Tylenol and a glass of water.

"Here." she hands it to him.

"Thanks."

Once he had taken the Tylenol and drank the whole glass of water, Tony lays down.

Pepper shuts the bedroom's curtains so that there's no light to bother Tony.

"Pep," Tony remembers. "Don't you have an important meeting today with those people from Dubai?"

"I do but I think I'm gonna cancel it." Pepper brings the bed covers up to Tony's chest.

"What, why?"

"I need to take care of a Mister Tony Stark."

"Pep, no offense, but I'm a grown ass adult who can take care of himself. You're needed way more at the meeting."

"Ugh Tony don't flatter yourself," Pepper rolls her eyes and gives Tony a soft kiss on the top of his head. "We both know that's not true. I'll go, but if you need anything, tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. to send for me."

"Will do Pep." Tony agrees.

"And Tony," Pepper gently grabs the sides of his face so they can look each other in the eyes. "I mean anything. Don't be an idiot and refuse help. Sometimes you can't do stuff alone and need help."

"I know and I promise I will," Tony leans his face towards hers and kisses her on the lips. "Now go show those people what SI is all about."

"Okay." Pepper smiles and proceeds to leave the room, shutting the door behind her.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"Yes Ms. Potts?" The AI responds.

"Make sure he actually listens to me and doesn't do anything stupid."

"Of course ma'am."

Pepper leaves the penthouse and goes to her meeting.

~Meanwhile in Queens~

Peter and Ned strolled down the halls of Midtown as they made their way to the next class.

Ned was busy telling Peter about how he swore his cousin had taken his Lego Luke Skywalker.

"It couldn't be anyone else!" Ned said, exasperated. He threw his hands up dramatically. "I mean, one sec it was there, then he went into my room, came out, and Luke was gone."

"Ned are you sure you didn't misplace him?"

"Yeah, I know I didn't. Unless there's a ghost messing with me, I know it was him."

"I mean, I guess it could've been a ghost," Peter shrugs his shoulders. "Or maybe we've been watching too much BuzzFeed Unsolved. But why would your cousin wanna steal him?"

"That's easy. He loves Star Wars and he doesn't have a Luke Skywalker like I do. So he stole mine and now I'm never gonna get him back. Luke is in uncharted territory now, upstate New York. In Buffalo. So close but so far away." Ned dramatically reaches his hand out.

“How old is your cousin?"

"Six."

"Oh. Okay then."

They reach their classroom and walk in.

"Sup losers." MJ says as Ned and Peter sit down. Their seats thankfully near each other. Peter sits behind Ned and MJ sits to the right of Ned.

"Hey MJ." Comes the chorus from Peter and Ned.

"What's going on?" MJ asks.

That sends Ned off again.

"MJ you are not gonna believe the kind of day I'm having. So it started with my cousin who-" Ned starts to tell MJ his story but Peter's mind wanders off.

He couldn't wait to leave school and go over to Stark Tower. Mr. Stark and him were gonna work on a prototype gadget that would eventually be implemented into both of their suits.

He didn't know what the gadget was gonna be though. Mr. Stark had told him it was a surprise.

"Alright class," Peter's snapped out of his thoughts by the teacher's voice. "Pull out your textbooks and let's get started."

|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|

School dragged on for Peter.

He kept glancing at the clock nearly every minute, thinking that at least fifteen minutes must've gone by. Only to find it had only been two.

Finally though, after what felt like an eternity, it ended and Peter was able to leave prison, ahem I mean school.

He walked to the subway station and took a train over to Manhatten. He knows that Tony prefers Happy to pick up Peter for his safety, but Peter prefers the freedom of taking the subway. I mean hey, he's been riding it by himself for years now.

My Kid: I'm on my way Mr. Stark!

Peter texts Tony.

Usually Peter gets a reply almost immediately because F.R.I.D.A.Y. informs Tony of the text, but not this time.

"Maybe Mr. Stark is in that meeting with Pepper," Peter thinks to himself. "I hope I'm not gonna be in the way."

The rest of the ride to the tower is long and, as every second ticks by, Peter gets more anxious.

He tries to take his mind off of it by continuing to talk to Ned about his missing Lego figure.

Ned was trying to come up with a plan to get it back. You'd swear Ned was talking about an actual person and not a toy with how he was handling the situation.

When Peter finally made it to his stop, he exited the train and walked the rest of the way to the tower.

Arriving, Peter walks through the tower's sleek and modern doors into the grand lobby.

He breezes right through security and gives the guards a little wave. They of course wave back, adoring the boy who earned the nickname "Little Stark."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. where is Mr. Stark at?" Peter asks the AI as he gets into the private elevator.

"Mr. Stark is currently in the penthouse." The AI responds in a cheerful tone.

"Awesome. Could you take me there?"

"Of course Peter." The elevator proceeds to climb up the floors to the penthouse.

Once it stops and the doors open, Peter exits the elevator and walks to the penthouse's kitchen. Usually whenever Peter got there and Tony was in the penthouse he was in there grabbing a quick snack.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter walks into the grand kitchen.

Tony isn't in sight though.

Peter's super hearing picks up coughing coming from somewhere in the apartment.

He follows the noise to Tony's bedroom.

‘So that's where Mr. Stark is.’ Peter thinks to himself.

Peter lightly knocks on the door. "Mr. Stark, it's me. It's Peter."

Tony hears the voice.

Obviously Tony would know that voice anywhere. He could recognize Peter no matter what.

Tony was surprised that the kid was here. That is, until he remembered it was a lab day for the both of them.

In all his craziness with being sick and stuff, he had oddly forgotten about Peter coming over. Tony had never done that before. Ever.

"Hey kid," Tony's dry and broken voice came from inside the room. "You should probably go home. I'm not feeling the greatest and don't want you to get sick."

Peter obviously doesn't listen to him and opens the door, finding Tony looking quite miserable on his bed.

Tony looks over at the boy who is making his way to the bed.

"Peter," Tony's voice breaks out. "You should keep your distance. I'll have Happy take you home."

Peter took in Mr. Stark's appearance. He looked more than miserable. Beads of sweat sat on his forehead from an obviously high fever, his hair sweaty as well. His nose was red and the bags under his eyes made it look like the man hadn't slept in years. Peter couldn't imagine what the poor man must feel like. Peter hadn't been sick in such a long time.

"I'm gonna stay," the kid made up his mind. "You don't have to worry about infecting me. Thanks to the spider bite, I can't catch whatever bug you have.

"I know kid. But I don't want to risk it. Plus, we can't really do anything fun today. I'd probably pass out in the lab and that wouldn't be good. Why don't I have Happy take you to Ned's house?" Tony suggests.

"Please let me stay Mr. Stark. I can get you things you need, like a glass of water and Tylenol. I can even make you grilled cheese if you get hungry. Please." The kid begs to his father.

Tony takes a good look at the kid, his kid. The sincerity and concern in the kid's expression made Tony's heart burst with joy. He'd never understand how a sweet and precious kid like Peter could ever find a father in a terrible and selfish man like himself. Nevertheless though, he was more than thrilled to be a father to Peter.

Out of everything Tony had ever done or made, including becoming Iron Man and all his inventions, being Peter's father and getting to watch the kid take off into the world was his greatest pride and joy.

How could he resist the care from his kid?

"Alright," Tony agrees. "But only because I know you can't get my sickness and I'll be able to keep an eye on you."

"Thank you!!" The kid whisper shouts, knowing from experience that Tony's ears are more sensitive at the moment. "And you don't need to keep an eye on me. I'm good at taking care of myself."

"Sure kid. Sure."

"Hey! I am." Peter points at himself, causing Tony to laugh at the kid's defensiveness.

"Whatever you say Underoos."

"Ugh fine, I can sorta take care of myself," Peter gives in. "Now do you need me to grab you anything? Like I said, I can make one amazing grilled cheese sandwich."

"I'm pretty good right now. Could you help me move to the couch in the family room though? I figure it'd be easier to grab things from there and we could watch a movie."

"Of course." Peter moves to the man's side and helps him off of the gigantic bed.

They carefully walk to the family room, Peter helping to guide Tony and make sure he doesn't fall.

Walking into the family room, they sit down onto the comfy couch directly facing the huge TV.

Peter gets up and grabs a blanket for the both of them to share. If Peter was being honest, he liked cuddling into his father's side. Tony was one of the only few people who he could do that with. Unfortunately though, May was usually busy working unbelievably long hours at the hospital. He did have Pepper, Rhodey, and even Happy. Happy of course, would never admit to sharing a hug with the kid a few times.

Peter sits back down and cuddles into Tony's side. Letting the blanket sprawl over the both of them.

Tony rests his arm around the kid's shoulders and brings him closer into his side. Even though Tony felt like shit, this was the best he had felt all day. It might be selfish but he was happy the kid had stayed and could be with him.

"What should we watch?" The kid asks.

"Whatever you'd like Peter. I'm down for anything."

"How aboooooout....." Peter drags the word out and taps his chin in mock deep thinking. "We could watch a TV show. A cartoon one at that. How about The Simpsons?"

"That sounds awesome," Tony agrees. "Rhodey and I used to watch it all the time in college."

"Simpsons it is. F.R.I. could you turn on The Simpsons?" Peter kindly asks the AI.

"Of course Peter," the AI kindly responds. "Which season and episode would you like?"

"Surprise us."

"Of course." The TV turns on and a random episode of The Simpsons plays.

Peter and Tony stay like that for hours. Curled into one another with Peter getting up a few times to grab Tony a glass of water or anything else he needs.

"Tony falls asleep a few times throughout the hours. Peter dozes off a bit too.

At about seven, Tony wakes up and finds the kid sleeping soundly at his side. Peter's head lying softly on Tony's chest as a little bit of drool drips from the kid's mouth.

Tony chuckles at the adorableness.

"Y'know Pete," Tony quietly whispers. Not wanting to stir the Spider-Baby with super hearing. "I feel much better and it's thanks to you. You're the best medicine I could've asked for during this. Love you."

With that, Tony dozes off again.

|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|

Pepper gets back to the penthouse at about ten-ish. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had told her that Peter was taking care of Tony so she was able to get through the meeting without worrying.

Walking into the family room, Pepper finds them sleeping soundly on the couch with The Simpsons playing on mute on the big TV.

"F.R.I." she whispers to the AI. "Could you turn the TV off?"

"Of course." The AI answers and the TV shuts off.

Pepper goes to her grand bathroom and, stripping from her business clothes, she steps into her magnificent shower and washes all the grime off from the day's activities.

After the shower she changes into a comfy pair of pajamas and joins her two favorite people back in the family room.

She cuddles into the other side of Peter. Peter stirs a little bit and sleepily opens his eyes.

"Mom?" Peter mumbles out as his tired gaze meets hers.

"Yeah it's me bud." She answers with a smile on her face.

The boy closes his eyes and falls back asleep.

Pepper doing the same.

There they stayed.

Cuddled up to one another.

A perfect family.

Tony's sickness completely forgotten.

#iron man #iron dad and spider son #whump fic #peter parker and tony stark #tony stark #tony stark whump #pepper and tony #marvel #ned leeds #sickfic #sick tony stark #peter and pepper and tony #peter and pepper #comfort fic

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