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yeonzzzn · 5 months ago

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to be popular: park jongseong

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 2.3k

synopsis: when all you want is to be in the spotlight along with your best friend and he helps you out.

genre: childhood friends!, popular!jay, friends to ?, smut.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, fingering.

a/n: had this in my drafts for awhile and finally decided to finish it up! enjoy it! ~

“Do you think he would though?”

All Jay could do was lock eyes with you at your question. This was normal for the two of you at parties.

“YN…” He sighs, lifting the beer can to his lips, “You know how I feel about this.”

You pouted at your best friend, clenching the empty beer can in your hand, and hearing the crack of the tin above the music.

You wouldn’t call yourself a loser, but you weren’t exactly below a loser or even more than a loser. You were just normal. Completely and simply normal. Jay though? Has been the most popular guy since kindergarten.

The two of you grew up together as neighbors, both being the only children in your families, it was only natural you both grew attached to each other. Jay was popular from the moment you both started school. And as the years went on it only got worse. As a child, you figured your popularity would come along with being best friends with Jay, mostly since homeboy was the captain on every sports team he played on and was even top of your class as well. Not to mention he was the head guitar player for the school's band growing up as well. Jay had multiple reasons under his belt for being popular. But you were always in his shadow. The most people knew of you was that you lived next door to him and were one of his best friends. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And it infuriated you.

Nothing you did put you in the spotlight. People barely remembered your name or who you were until you were standing right next to him. At first, you thought it was just kids being mean, but as the years went on, you slowly learned that maybe it was just you. Someone who was forgettable.

Jay always got pissed off with you anytime you would mention how forgettable you were, “You’re literally my BEST FRIEND, YN!” he’d snapped at you, “You’re everything but forgettable.”

Sure, you had some boys knocking on your door for attention, and you’d give them it. But your popularity never went anywhere. It’s not like you even wanted the popularity for the attention really, you just wanted to feel like an equal with Jay. To have everyone remember your name and who you were. To not be well…barely above a loser.

“Jay,” you turned your body fully towards him, lifting your knee to your chest and taking a hold of the burnt orange colored couch with your free hand, “It’s a yes or no question!”

Jay chugged down the rest of his beer and shifted his eyes from you over to Heeseung, the guy you are basically begging him to answer on if he’d be down to fuck you. Heeseung was a friend of Jay’s and also one of the most popular guys at your college. Heeseung has a reputation for fucking any girl who comes his way. Jay knew it was only a matter of time before you resorted to trying to get Heeseung to spread your legs.

Heeseung was probably six or seven drinks in at this party and was currently getting touchy with another girl in the kitchen. Eyes completely locked on her.

Jay looked back at you with a slight smirk, “He looks busy.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not what I'm asking.”

Jay looked down at the coffee table in front of him, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Why did this matter so much to you? Chasing after popular guys at the college just to get your name out there. Jay never understood why you wanted this popularity. If anything, Jay wished he was in your position. To be normal and not have multiple females at every party he attends jumping his bones.

And quite frankly, Jay was tired of having this conversation with you.

“I’m not answering this,” he said with a wave of his hand, “You know I don’t like the idea of you throwing yourself at random guys just for attention.”

You tossed the empty beer can on the table and clenched your fist, starting to get up from the couch, “Fuck you then, if you feel that way. I'll try to seduce him myself.” This is how every conversation about this topic goes with Jay. Him always shutting you down. But you've had enough of it.

And apparently, so did Jay.

Because you were down flat on your back on the couch with him hovering over you.

“J-Jay,” you glanced your eyes around the room, “W-what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer you, taking your arms and pinning them above your head, his lips now attached to your neck. Your body reacted in a way you weren’t expecting it to. You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access to you. Your heart rate increased, and the thoughts not circulating in your brain scared you.

“Jay,” you called his name again, shifting yourself as best as you could away from his lips.

One of his hands left your wrist and took your jaw between his fingers, “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Jay hovered his lips above yours, barely brushing them together and sliding his free hand down to the button of your jeans, “To be fucked like a slut publicly. All to be popular.”

He was angry. Frustrated. Pissed at every man in this room that you’ve tried to pull into bed with you. Pissed at you. This was the only way he knew to not only set you straight but also get his feelings out of the way.

He pressed his lips to yours in the same motion of unbuttoning your jeans, his cold fingers slipping down your panties and rubbing at your folds, humming against your lips, “Already so wet? Just from me barely touching you?”

“Shut up,” you snapped, lifting yourself to connect your lips back together. Jay’s cock twitched at your sudden action and pushed two fingers into your cunt, groaning at how perfectly you clenched around him. How perfectly you feel.

It amazed him how unfazed you were right now. Jay was sure you’d push him off or snap at him for even making a move on you. The two of you were best friends after all, and never once crossed this line until well, now. Jay could blame it on the alcohol he’s consumed. Could even blame it on all that you’ve had to drink as well.

But it was all further from the truth.

Jay pushed his fingers in you faster and parted your lips with his tongue, wrapping the muscle around yours. He was getting so drunk off your taste. Was so turned on over the fact you’re letting him do this to you in the middle of a public college party. You surprised yourself. Your whole plan was just to get Heeseung to make out with you in front of everyone and then drag him off into an empty bedroom or even the bathroom. The last thing you expected was your best friend to be knuckled deep in your pussy and his tongue down your throat.

And by god with the way he was working his fingers in and out of you, you knew your orgasm was fast approaching. As if he already knew how to work your body before even touching you.

The truth…he’s only ever dreamed of how it would feel to do something like this with you. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and looped them at your jeans and pushed them down and leaving your mouth, “You’ve made your rounds asking every single fuck boy possible,” he scoffed, flying his hands to undo his belt, jeans button and zipper, “To fuck you like a slut all for popularity.” The truth…the truth the truth the truth, “Asked everyone but me.”

Your eyes widened at his words, a new feeling sinking into your heart. He sounded angry, his face showed hints of jealousy as his eyes pierced into you and his hands worked at shoving his pants and boxers down past his hips, setting his cock free.

It surprised you how willingly Jay was to do this. How he didn’t seem to care that he was about to fuck you on a couch in the middle of some random party with everyone around to witness it. But it’s what you wanted, right?

Jay lined his tip to your entrance and wasted no time pushing himself in, flinging his head back when it kissed your cervix, “Fuck, YN,” he hissed, taking your wrists back in his hands to pin against the leather of the couch. Jay was already seeing stars at how perfectly you felt wrapped around him. How good you felt. Like your cunt was made for him and him only.

He fucked into you hard, keeping his face tucked perfectly in the crook of your neck. You tried to keep your moans down, eyes wandering the living room to see if anyone was watching.

“Why are you so nervous now, baby?” he whispered in your ear, fucking into you harder, “You wanted this,” You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your calm to focus on that pain instead of the pleasure he was giving you down south, “Everyone fucks at parties. Moan for me, YN. Let everyone see how good I’m giving it to you.”

He bit down into your neck and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your lips parted and a loud wet moan escaped. Jay smirked at the sound, darting his eyes over to Heeseung and loving the way his friend's jaw was dropped and eyes locked onto the two of you.

“See that, baby?” he cooed, “All eyes are on you now,” you barely tilted your head to the side, seeing Heeseung and the female at his side both staring at you and Jay. Seeing the eyes of random partygoers staring as they walked past the living with their eyes wide. Heeseung finally closed his mouth and tucked his lips between his teeth, making Jay spiral, “See, now he fucking wants you,” you looked back at Jay, seeing the fire burning within him, “No one is allowed to have you, understand?”

He slid his hands down to your hips, squeezing them tightly as he fucked into you faster and harder, forcing more moans to leave your lips.

“Asked everyone but me to fucked you,” he scoffed, “Never once did you think to ask me. Would have done it with no second thoughts.” The truth the truth the truth, “I’ve dreamed of having you underneath me like this, wrapped around my cock so perfectly. I’ve been so in love with you since we were kids. Kids, YN.” his anger burned hotter as he unleashed all his emotions, “Never gave a fuck how unpopular you were. Never cared that no one knew who you were because I wanted you all to myself,” he pressed his forehead to yours, brushing his lips to yours as he moans out from the pleasure, “But you? You just wanted to be popular.”

You pulled your wrists from his hands and tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing him down to you to connect your lips together and wrapping your legs over his hips, “I only care about you right now, Seongie. Who cares about being popular.”

Your words had his heart doing flips. He finally got to you after so long. He smiled and looked back at Heeseung, feeling even more excited knowing Heeseung was still very much watching. It only pushed Jay to fuck into you faster. Harder. To kiss you harder. To bite your lip and pull and squeeze your hips harder to force you to arch your back at his every touch and pull. He loved knowing that another man was getting hard just by watching him fuck you. Loved seeing said man thirst for you knowing he wouldn’t be able to have you.

You belonged to him. Always had. And always would. Because Jay isn’t letting you go after this.

He kissed down your jaw and to your neck, “I’m fixing to cum, my love,” he whispered, placing opened-mouthed kisses to your skin, feeling the way you clench around him, “And I know you’re at your limit too.”

You nodded, tanging your fingers more into his dark hair and pulling slightly, “I want to cum with you.”

He chuckled, sliding one hand to your thigh and the other cupping your face, “All you had to do was ask,” and he pressed his lips to yours, moaning into your mouth as he gave one final thrust and squeezed the plush of your thigh. You both were filled with so much ecstasy as you came together. Breathing in each other's breaths.

Once his head stopped spinning, Jay quickly pulled his jacket from his body and covered your lower halves, “I don’t need Heeseung over there seeing any more than he already has.”

You giggled at him, sitting yourself up on your elbows, “You didn’t seem to care that I was exposed earlier.”

Jay pinched your jaw between his fingers, “Not my fault you wanted to act like such a slut earlier.”

You bit at your lips and gave him pleading eyes. Loving the way he smirked down at you.

“You got your wish though, my love,” he said, pulling out of you and keeping the jacket in place as he pulled his jeans back up over his hips and helped you pull yours up too, “To be popular. Everyone will be talking about us now.”

You pulled at his shirt collar and kissed him tenderly. Never did you ever think your childhood best friend would be in this position with you. To be so in love with you. Deep down you felt the same and didn’t want to admit it to yourself. And it only took you acting on your said wish.

“At least we both will be the talk.”

Jay just chuckles against your lips, “Only come to me when you want a good fuck, ya? You’re mine.”

—perm.tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

#jay bae #park jongseong #jongseong park #jay park #park jay #jay x reader #reader x jay #park jongseong smut #park jay smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #yeonzzzn writing

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kingkatsuki · 7 months ago

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— when you get him a birthday cake

Masterlist.

It’s been a while and this has sat dusty and half-finished in my drafts for months, so Happy Birthday, Bakugou.🥺

Warnings: none. Pure fluff, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.7k.

Bakugou had never really celebrated his birthday, at least not since he was a child. Far too old for children’s party games and toys (although he’d still scour the internet for vintage All Might action figures as a gift to himself, because those most definitely weren’t toys).

But the thing that irritated him more than anything about his special day was the fact that everyone else seemed far more excited about it than him. Masses of texts from his friends, messages online and an influx of gifts from fans all trying to wish him a very Happy Birthday. News outlets and media suddenly in talks with his PR team to try and get an interview with him on the actual day; when truth be told he’d have agreed to it if they’d offered the day before. The tower of paperwork he was trying to work through had become tiresome and he was hoping for a distraction.

How was it that the world seemed more excited about his Birthday than the Number Two hero was himself?

Heaving a sigh as he stopped the incessant blaring of his phone alarm before wincing through tired, narrowed eyes at the bright light of his phone. The screen completely covered in well wishes that seemed to have started when the clock struck twelve. A few trying to coax him out after work for drinks and to celebrate, those he swiftly ignored. It wasn’t until he scrolled down to a message from Mina practically threatening him to go out that he groaned low and deep in his chest; how was it that his friends were trying to dictate how he spent his birthday every damn year? He’d be happy with a bowl of noodles from his favourite hole in the wall and maybe a slice of cake from the quaint bakery he liked to frequent on Sundays. Now he was going to have to stay up late, and probably carry an inebriated Kirishima home.

By the time he’d made it into the office, Bakugou had put his phone onto do not disturb. Sick of the constant stream of messages that didn’t seem to dissipate. Another thing to add to the list of things that irked him about his special day— and he hadn’t even received the call from his Mother yet. Less of a call to send him well wishes, and more an excuse to remind him that he’s another year older and still painfully single and she’s still without a grandchild. Running a palm down the length of his face as he stepped into the elevator to take it up to his floor.

“Good morning, Dynamight,” You smiled from your desk as he walked past, “And happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” He rasped gruffly in response, it was the first time he’d used his voice all morning.

“I left you a coffee on your desk.”

God, you really were the best part about his day.

You were apprehensive when Bakugou walked by with a heavy set frown across is brow. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grumpy this early in the day, the Pro was definitely not a morning person— but he seemed even more annoyed today. And you were positive the influx of gifts that waited for him by the copier would only serve to irritate him more. Especially when a US limited edition All Might figure he’d ordered from overseas as a gift to himself had still not been delivered. Grimacing when you’d checked the tracking when you woke up this morning and noticed it sat in an airport postal office on the outskirts of Kawasaki; you knew he wouldn’t be happy.

And that’s why you were even more nervous for him to see the gift you’d left sitting on his desk. A gift that definitely couldn’t compare from the small fortune he’d spent on himself.

It was difficult thinking about the perfect gift to get a man that could buy himself anything he wanted, even more difficult when the man happened to be your boss. Any time you looked through shop windows at the various fragrances, gift sets and jewellery everything felt too ostentatious, too intimate. Putting down a garish tie that you wondered why you’d even thought about buying, and settling on a single purchase of an All Might themed birthday card you were certain was for children as you decided to make him something instead.

“What the fuck is this?” You heard Bakugou shout from his office and you felt your heart rattle against your ribcage.

Standing from your desk to open the parted door to see him standing in front of your gift. The All Might card already open and displayed on top of his desk as his attention now sat on the open white box that he’d unwrapped.

“It’s uh— a cake.” You smiled softly.

Bakugou raised a brow at your answer as he directed his gaze back to the cake that sat on top of his desk. Three tiers of soft sponge covered in a vibrant orange icing, with black lines decorating it to replicate the crosses that sat against his chest on his hero costume. You’d never claimed to be a baker, the cake nothing like the one you could’ve probably picked up from Bakugou’s favourite bakery. You knew the exact cakes he enjoyed too, but when googling recipes none seemed to be close to your level or expertise.

And what made it worse is the dessert had not travelled well on your morning commute. Holding tightly onto the box while you contended with the Musutafu rush hour had meant that the tiers had now begun to slide out of place as the cake sat leaning inside its box, now looking rather pathetic.

“A cake?” He repeated, his eyes glancing back down at the vanilla sponge that had a messy attempt of ‘Happy Birthday Dynamight’ scrawled across the top. The piping bag had not been kind to you when you attempted the design, wishing the text looked more like your handwriting and less like you’d baked with a four year old. Which was probably what your boss was thinking right now as he stared down at the sweet treat.

“I’m sorry,” You felt your cheeks burn, “I thought it would be a nice idea—”

“Did you make it yourself?” Bakugou asked, although it was clear that you had. Any shop that would dare to even attempt to sell a monstrosity like this should be shut down.

“Well, yeah,” You hovered in place, “I tried to follow the recipe, and I thought it was going well, but I think I put too much buttercream on, and I’m not very good at piping—”

You found yourself rambling, and it just made you feel worse. Reaching over to flip the cardboard lid back over it to take it away and shield yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Are you not going to have some with me?” Bakugou stopped you from closing the lid completely, his crimson eyes full of sincerity.

“Cake for breakfast? It’s not even nine am—”

“So?” He scoffed, “It’s my birthday. If I can’t have cake for breakfast today then what’s the fuckin’ point? Unless you’re trying to kill me—”

“No!” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “Does it really look that bad?”

You looked down at the sad, pathetic excuse of a cake. Hard to see all the time, energy and love that went into it when it drooped so pitifully.

“It looks like shit.” He smirked.

“I should’ve just bought one,” You sighed, remembering how pretty all the cakes had been on the online websites you were going to order from before you had the brilliant idea to bake one yourself. Hell, even the cute little cupcakes in the coffee shop you went to each morning looked better than this.

“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head, “It’s perfect.”

It was noon by the time Bakugou had decided to pick the phone up to answer one of his mothers numerous calls to him, eyeing the voicemails that she’d left which no doubt chastised him for not picking the phone up. He’d delete those later.

“Katsuki—” Her voice already had him closing his eyes and rubbing his temple as he settled back in his desk chair. Still better than paperwork— “How hard is it for a mother to wish her son a happy birthday. Don’t you forget that I’m the one who birthed you—”

“Yeah, yeah, Ma. I’m sorry,” He sighed, “Work’s been kickin’ my ass.”

“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, anyway!” She continued, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

“I’ve got too much to do.” He didn’t. The paperwork could wait, and he didn’t have a patrol scheduled this week. His sidekicks eager to find their own positions in the hero rankings so they’d picked up all the available slots, leaving Bakugou in his office.

“All you ever do is work anymore, Katsuki.” She continued, “When are you coming to visit? Your father says he hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”

“I’ll come by soon.” Maybe. He thought.

“You should be spending less time working and more time settling down. You’re not a young man anymore, Katsuki.” Here it comes, “And I want grandchildren while I can still chase after them!”

He scoffed. Even when he was a child Mitsuki still hadn’t been able to catch up with him, but the thought of her running around after his kids had an unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest.

“It must be lonely, son,” She continued, and for once he stopped to think about it.

“There is someone, Ma—” Bakugou smiled as his eyes looked towards the half eaten cake that sat on the edge of his desk.

If he could ever tell you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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foreingersgod · 16 days ago

Note

babes ur writing is so good , can you write something where the reader is going to indiana with caitlin but is nervous that cait will forget about her ???

*i think i interpreted this wrong so i’m so sorry lmao

Champagne Coast . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: request ^

A/N: y’all i’m so sorry for how long this took me!! and i feel like my writing has really deteriorated so please give me feedback and let me know if you like it or totally hate it lmao, thanks for your patience!!

also sorry i had to use YN like ONCE !!

wc: 10.6k

Finishing eight or nine?

Tell me, what's the perfect time?

your bowl had been placed in the dishwasher long ago, countertop cleaned and leftovers placed in the nearly empty fridge. dinner was growing cold and you hadn’t cared to wait, opting to eat alone yet again before residing in the living room. the tv played in the background with some arbitrary doctors show from the 90s as you sat patiently watching the clock. the hands were beginning to collect dust, you noticed, though it had only been up for a few months upon your move to indiana. each tick seems to mock you the more time dragged on.

she was supposed to be home long ago. practice would have been done at 8 or 9 and it was now approaching 11. this is what it always was, waiting up for her well into the night when the street lamps turned on and the sky grew dark. and you’d wait up like you always did as you were unable to sleep without her. especially in this new home, new bed, new sheets, new life. it never quite bothered you that caitlin would show up late every once and awhile, but it had started to become a habit, and you were left cold and alone. pestering her about being home at a certain time wasn’t fair to her by any means, knowing that she was just going and getting to know her team some more. but recently it felt like you were navigating this milestone in your life by yourself-your girlfriend hardly around to comfort your racing mind.

when caitlin had been drafted, you knew immediately in your heart that it was going to be rough. change was something of a challenge for you and it terrified you more than anything. you recalled sitting at that table, hearing her name announced and the deafening cheers, thinking about how excited you were for her. and even though you were thrilled for her, you couldn’t help but think about how your perfect world was going to slowly crumble. caitlin insisted that things wouldn’t fall apart, just adjust for the future you were going to build together. but now you were here, in this house-not home-trying to convince yourself that all of it was true.

suddenly, you were pulled from your period of musing when the lock of the front door clicked. it was followed by the faint creaking of hinges, old brass from the 70s, your land lord had claimed. you thought she was full of shit. weary eyes traveled to the opening door to see a very tired caitlin walking in. her hair was tousled, post practice shirt just slightly wrinkled, the slightest bags under her eyes that she insisted weren’t there. she was struggling with the move just as much as you, though she’s never admit it.

“hey,” you uttered just enough to be heard over the television. feelings of your isolation had begun to dissipate the moment you saw your girl, relief running through your veins “you’re home”

“yea” she cleared her throat as she let her bag fall to the floor. the squeak of her shoes echoed against the walls when she toed them off, eventually setting them on the rack beside the door. there was an uneasiness laced in her voice you had picked up on. she didn’t seem angry nor irritated, but she was far from her usual self when she was home. she’d typically be thrilled to see you, ready to be in your arms again and let the stress from the day wash off. you were the first thing she’d looked for when she stepped across the threshold. but tonight, her eyes were hesitant to find yours.

“are you alright?” you watched as she shuffled into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, skipping over the leftovers that you had considerately set aside just for her. her favorite meal dished into the nicest tupperware you owned. her slim figure leaned against the cool marble countertop, taking a swig of the water “you seem a bit…off”

“just tired” she glanced at you, locking eyes for what felt like the first time since she’d been home. a weak smile made its way onto her lips as she studied your position on the couch. you couldn’t lie, she did look tired, but part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that had been consuming you for months. the distance that basketball had created made it feel like you and caitlin were living separate lives, when really, this should be something you tackled together. you couldn’t blame her for any of it even if you wanted to, just hoping that things would go back to the way they were.

you wished she were home more, that her presence would provide you some sort of reassurance. maybe just to convince you that you weren’t going insane, liked you were trapped within these walls for a reason other than her career. it had been a while since you felt like you were living a life that didn’t solely revolve around caitlin’s.

“okay” you smiled back bitterly without pressing any further. any energy you had for a conversation like that had left your body hours ago. reaching for the remote and lifting yourself off the couch, you motioned to the stairwell. considering she didn’t even acknowledge the food, you assumed settling down for the night was what you both needed “ready for bed?”

she blinked rapidly, kissing her teeth silently when she noticed the annoyance in your voice. guilt consumed her as she saw the look on your face, the twinge of desire lost from your eyes.

“mhm” she hummed in agreement as she followed you upstairs to the bedroom.

maybe you both just needed some sleep, caitlin thought. neither of you were mad nor cross with each other, but you’d be fools if you didn’t sense the tension in the air. things had been different for quite some time now, all of it too confusing to address, leaving you to wallow in the awkwardness for days now. but if there was any time, any place, where all that was left at the door? it would be here with each other in bed. it was something of a safe haven, nothing else mattered when you left your worries at the door and held each other tightly.

like clockwork, you stripped of your typical daywear down to your lace panties and one of caits t-shirts. it had a worn down high school logo on it, the design fading from the countless times it had been through the wash. she, likewise, pulled her sweaty gym shirt off her body to replace it with one from her closet. you crawled under the covers whilst you took off your earrings, setting them on the small tray on your nightstand-something you picked out at target when you and caitlin went decor shopping for the new apartment. you had barely noticed caitlin also climbing into bed as the memory of that day overtook you. no words were exchanged as you both settled into the sheets, pulling the thick duvet over your shoulders and finally letting your muscles relax. it was only when a pair of burley arms wrapped around your waist, a familiar nose prodding against your collarbone, did the silence break.

“love you” caitlin whispered, breath warm on your skin “m’sorry i was late tonight and that i missed dinner. i’ll make it up to you”

“s’ok cait,” you murmured, sleep tugging at your eyelids. you brought a hand up to her head as you raked your fingers through her hair, she always loved it when you did “i love you too”

it mattered not what she did to make it up to you. she could do anything in the world, buy you countless gifts, take you on a million trips, but it wouldn’t change the one thing your heart desired for.

her.

I told you I'll be waiting

Hiding from the rainfall

trying to navigate to the locker room was a difficult task, having to push past the cheering crowds in a stadium you weren’t familiar with. you were surrounded by a blur of seattle’s green and yellow jerseys as you looked for any sort of path to follow. indiana had just taken quite the loss against the storm and you knew, the second you heard the buzzer sound, that you needed to find caitlin as soon as possible. eventually, you found where you needed to be and beelined for the locker room, hoping she hadn’t already gone looking for you.

the large metal doors stood tall in front of you when you arrived at the locker room entrance. the shift from the excitement out on the stadium floor to this quiet displeasure was staggering and you weren’t even inside yet. whatever you were about to be faced with would break your heart, you could already see it now. you pictured caitlin sitting down, head in her hands as she tapped her foot anxiously and made her best attempt to hold back her tears. she had been struggling with everything recently-the move, the new team, the continuous losses-it was slowly chipping away at her.

however, after pushing the doors open and stepping inside, it was quite the opposite from what you expected. the doors clicked shut behind you, causing the noise to reverberate around the desolate room as you took in the sight before you. and just as you imagined, your heart slowly began to twinge. caitlin sat there on the bench alone, head leaned against her locker as her chest heaved up and down. tears cascaded down her face and her lip quivered the more she sobbed. wispy strands of hair stuck to her forehead from all the sweat and her hands clutched the sides of her head in frustration. you had never seen her in such a state. caitlin was typically reserved, even with you, not wanting to be open and vulnerable. but here you were, seeing her with all of her guards down.

“caitlin” you breathed, immediately rushing over to her. you fell to your knees, body slotting between her thighs. shaky hands came to rest on her legs hesitantly as to not make matters worse “hey, hey what’s going on baby?”

she made a weak attempt at looking at you, tears blurring her vision. a hiccup escaped her chapped lips when she felt your soothing touch on her clammy skin. caitlin couldn’t even manage the words, thoughts lost in her own mind, only tangling more as she continued her cries. she managed to push herself off the locker, letting herself collapse into you as she shook her head. something to signal her unwillingness to talk. her large arms and heavy torso clashed against you as you enveloped her into a hug. warm tears dropped onto your shoulder as she pressed her cheek into your clavicle, creating a damp spot on your indiana fever t-shirt.

“shhh, i know you’re upset,” you rubbed circles onto her back, palm running across the fabric of her jersey “but i need you to talk to me, i can’t make it better if you won’t tell me”

“i just-” she croaked, voice wavering “i feel like…like a failure”

your body went stiff, the movements of your hand stopping momentarily. you hoisted her back up to face her in disbelief. the confession had taken you aback-not that caitlin had been anything but humble, but she knew how amazing she was, of her immense impact on the sport. to hear that word tumble from her lips, masked by a series of desperate whimpers, was enough to break you.

“caitlin,” you dragged on, feeling yourself at a loss for words. everyone thought so highly of your girl and it crushed you to hear her say those words “you are so far from that”

you watched her throat bob as she swallowed harshly. she tugged at the bottom of her jersey, bringing it up to her face to wipe some of the sweat away. in reality it was just an excuse to hide her blood shot eyes. another shake took possession of caitlin’s head to deny your statement.

“yea well my performance begs to differ”

“one bad game isn’t-”

“it’s not just one game” she cut you off before you could even begin to disagree. she had stopped crying by now, intense emotions now overtaken by aggravation “it’s several games. i keep fucking up. missing shots, turning over the ball-shit”

her rambles trailed off in a rampage of huffs and groans, her breath hot as she breathed angrily out of nose. she was always too hard on herself, lost in the heat of the moment and not giving herself any grace for all the hard work she’s put in thus far. it was a topic that began to consume your daily life. caitlin couldn’t seem to shake off the struggles of the day, in turn bringing them home where they became your baggage as well. of course you didn’t mind being there for your girl-hell, you’d do anything for her no matter what-but it was all starting to get exhausting.

you hated that you had these thoughts in the first place, feeling like a bad partner because you couldn’t bare the repetition of these conversations. time after time after time again you’d beat yourself up over it. caitlin deserved the world and more, but you deserved that just as much and these restless nights weren’t providing that. you didn’t even know what to say anymore, torn between how you wanted to proceed.

“there’s a lot on your plate,” you reassured, getting off your knees and taking a seat next to her on the bench. caitlin’s head automatically went to your shoulder as you took one of her hands in yours “you’re just starting out…don’t be so hard yourself. i know it’s rough, but you’re doing what you can and that’s what makes you so amazing. give yourself some grace, babe”

“i know but,” she sniffled, feeling a sense of calmness rush over her as you toyed with her fingers. it kept her distracted, grounded her for the time being “i don’t know, i’ve just been wanting to be the best all the time-for everyone-and i can barley even keep my head straight”

“i think i can speak for everyone when i say you’ve blown us all away” you traced along her lengthy fingers “your fans, your family, me…we’re all so proud of how far you’ve come”

she sighed deeply, you could practically feel the relief dispersing in her veins. in trying times like this, this is exactly what she needed. you were the shoulder to cry on, the answer to all her problems.

“you always know what to say”

she was right, you did. you’d always have the most thoughtful response lined up, no matter the reason or time. partially because it came so naturally to you, having an empathetic heart since forever, but partially from the consistency of these conversations. you couldn’t even count on your fingers the amount of times you’d sit with caitlin on tough nights, rubbing her back and whispering softly in her ear to bring her back to reality.

“well it’s the truth” you chimed “i’m always going to be here for you, cait”

you always are.

she offered you a smile through puffy pink lips, sore from biting them in strain. caitlin found the strength to pull away from you as her hands left yours, only to plant them right back onto your cheeks. her hands felt heavy on your skin when she brought your face to hers gently. your lips met in a sharp yet delicate kiss, caitlin eager to feel you against her again. but it hadn’t felt usual to you, as your bottom lip caught between her teeth and as your tongue collided with hers. it lacked that passion, that thrill of reveling in your lovers embrace. what was once fire was now a mere ember is a pool of spreading ash. you had feared this feeling for quite sometime although you’d never admit it, it felt as if she was slipping through your fingers.

bit by bit.

Tell me, what's the joy of giving

if you're never pleased?

she had changed.

locking herself away and distancing herself further from you as the season went on. she had always been hard on herself, but even then, she knew when enough was enough and what her limits were. but it seemed that after each game, she lost control of herself more and more. you had never seen her be so critical, so judgmental about her abilities.

it was hard to watch one of the most important people in your life shut themselves away. you wanted nothing more than to be there for her, but she put on the same facade each time and claimed that it as a slump to overcome. but could you really call it a slump when it was starting to weasel its way into the foundations of your relationship?

you hated to think it, but you felt neglected; your wellbeing didn’t feel like it was a priority to caitlin anymore. she used to be so sweet, attentive and caring when you were back in iowa. you wished that you were just as important as basketball. but the mere thought of accusing her of abandoning you seemed harsh when you considered bringing it up to her, because in all fairness, she was undergoing one of the biggest milestones in her life. but that didn’t mean that pushing you aside was fair either. you were taking care of the apartment, running all the errands, helping her balance her schedule, comforting her every single night as she saught after you for solace…and then managing your own life on top of that.

some days it felt like she didn’t even bat an eye at the lengths you went for her. how her laundry was done and set on her dresser, how dinner was made each night, how you picked up her favorite protein powder at the grocery store because you noticed that she was running low? she had began to expect it the more you pushed, not even offering so much as a ‘thank you’ or any regard of appreciation.

you could only give so much with little in return, you need her just as much as she needed you.

On my last strength against you

Baby, tell me what you need

you were happy for her, truly you were. it was so rewarding to see caitlin bond with her team and start to navigate her place in the W. she was beginning to believe in herself and that’s all a girlfriend could want for her partner. but something continued to gnaw at you.

you were doing everything in your power to make more time for caitlin-even if it should be the other way around. maybe by clearing up your schedule, it would make it easy for caitlin to make time for you. but you were sorely mistaken, you couldn’t force someone to make time for something that barely crossed their mind. and perhaps it was a foolish thought. an accusation a bit too cruel, but it was hard to watch caitlin celebrate life without you when most of it was owed to you. no one else served as her backbone, her crutch as she climbed her way to the top.

it was a bittersweet feeling for the most part. you smiled when seeing all the team pictures posted on instagram, chuckling lightly when caitlin retold stories of practices as she got ready for bed each night-the only time you seemed to get with her nowadays. but then there were the tears when you ate meals alone at the head of the table, staring off into the empty seat where she should be sat. and of course the mornings where you didn’t feel like getting out of bed because facing reality of your crumbling relationship was too much to bare.

it was an unfair truth; as she glances off in another direction, you’ll be glancing back to her.

Young as I want to know

I will never let you go

“baby?” her voice felt foreign in your ear. you hadn’t heard that pet name in a while.

“hm?” you responded mindlessly, unable to form a genuine reaction.

you were sat on the balcony of you apartment, the sliding glass doors open behind you. it would let the autumn chill into the house, you told caitlin many times to not leave it open. but she disregarded your commands as she leaned against the frame of the door. you had a small blanket draped over your lap to protect your bare legs from the nippy weather of the changing seasons, your chin resting on your palm as you over looked the view of indiana. your mind felt blank and overcrowded at the same time and trying to clear your head with some fresh air didn’t seem to help at all.

you hadn’t realized she would be home so soon. after all it was 5:00 on a friday evening, you presumed she’d be out with the team or running extra drills with aliyah, hell even at a media event of some sorts. you never knew what it was anymore with her. she didn’t bother to text or update you, most times you only knew of her whereabouts from socials or her family.

“are you ok?” she asked again “it’s freezing out here, you should be inside”

“it’s too stuffy” you sighed, inhaling sharply as the breeze brought in another gust “i can’t be in there right now”

you felt her tense up behind you, the image of her shoving her hands into her pockets formed in your peripheral. this was the most you two had interacted in a while, but your moody attitude appeared sudden to caitlin.

“why not?”

“jus’ can’t”

an unsteady silence filled the atmosphere. the only noises left to be heard were the sniffling of your red and runny nose and the traffic blaring below the apartment complex. you had hoped she’d leave you alone and walk back inside. the optimism of trying had started to disappear and you didn’t think you had much fight left in you. you planned to savor the last bits of energy you had to keep this alive, although today didn’t feel like one of those days. you continued to look out into the distance when she finally moved. you felt the spot next to you plunge as she took a seat.

“you never answered me,” her hand came to rest reassuringly on your thigh. despite the blanket that separated your skin, the contact still felt cold “are you doing ok?”

she had already picked up on your weariness, you were never so shut off when you were with her. but you couldn’t pretend to care when she couldn’t either.

“mhm” everything in you fought to not make it sound so obvious, the sound of your heart breaking as you croaked out the words “i’m good”

caitlin was doing so well and you couldn’t bring yourself to be the bitchy girlfriend that was groveling for attention. you weren’t okay, your relationship wasn’t, but if you just sat in the quiet and let it blow over then maybe it would be. you feared being seen as selfish and you felt guilty as you pushed caitlin away with your short answer.

she huffed, pulling her hand away from you as she hunched over her self, elbows on her knees and head in her hands.

“weeks ago you were talking about how excited you were for fall” she muttered “so that you could put out decorations and we could cuddle up on the couch and watch those old scary movies you love so much”

you allowed yourself to look in her direction, noticing how her face was covered by her beautiful long hair. but you didn’t need to see her to know that she wasn’t pleased.

“but the house looks the same and you’ve been sitting on the balcony every day even though you know it’s gonna make you sick” she craned her neck to look out across the city and you could see the trail of tears in her eyes. just glossy, but not enough to fall “it doesn’t sound like you’re ok”

you couldn’t do this, not right now.

“i’m sorry” you breathed “i understand your concern. i just think i’m a little stressed is all you know? just got a lot going on right now and i guess my focus has just been elsewhere. i’m sorry”

a nearly complete lie, all your focus had been on her these days.

“no need to be, i get it, and you know you can always talk to me about these things. but you gotta come inside, babe” she prodded “you’ll catch a cold”

with reluctance, you gave into her request and pushed the blanket off your lap. caitlin watched as you folded it and draped it over your arm before taking your hand and guiding you inside. the warmth and the calming pumpkin scent of your candle enveloped you like a hug, putting you at ease for the time being.

the both of you fell back into your typical routine almost instantly. no words were exchanged as she headed upstairs to shower, and you moseying into the kitchen to start on dinner. some polite conversation was made when caitlin came back downstairs with wet hair and freshly moisturized skin to help you finish dinner, but that’s as far as it went. no hugs from behind as you stood at the stove, no kisses on the neck, no laughter that was pure enough to make your stomach hurt. but it was simple and it was nice, enough to hold you over until the rubber band holding you together finally snapped.

Trading a baseball lover as I face the snow

“alright,” you said as you walked into the living room, heels padding against the carpet of the hallway and your dress itching at the skin on your legs. your fingers fiddled with your last earring, making you huff in relief when the clasp finally shut “i’m ready!”

it was date night tonight, the first in what felt like years, and there weren’t any words that could describe how ecstatic you were. just the thought of some much needed bonding time with caitlin gave you hope. yes times have been tough, but there wasn’t anything a little quality time (and maybe some good sex) couldn’t fix. you had been planning this night for sometime, making sure you both had the evening off and meticulously scheduling every last minute of the night. you were optimistic that tonight would open up a new door for progress.

but when you walked into the living room, your heart sunk. here you were, all dolled up with the prettiest smile on your face, waltzing into the most disappointing sight.

caitlin sat on the couch, legs spread and back against the soft cushions. she had her phone in hand, hair pulled back like always…and most definitely in a dirty tee shirt from her hamper and a pair of sweats. certainly not date attire, you knew.

“cait” you stood blankly “it’s 7:00”

“uh yea” she responded, only looking up from her phone for a moment, then quickly doing a double take once she realized your physical state “what’s with the dress? i mean you look as beautiful as always but-”

“are you serious?” you scoffed. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. never in a million years did you think this would happen in your relationship. caitlin wasn’t like that.

“what do you mean ‘am i serious’?” she was taken aback, frustration already evident on her face as her checks glowed a shade of red “i just asked a fucking question”

“you really don’t know?” shoulders slumping when you realized she actually did forget.

she shook her head, brows furrowing as she awaited your response. a quick “no” fell from her lips.

“is the 24th caitlin” you chewed at your lip nervously, trying to hold back tears. you voice wavered as it caught it your throat, making you sound weak and defeated “our date?”

the color drained from her face in seconds, gaze softening and lips downturned. she was off the couch in seconds as she stumbled towards you, bringing your hands into hers. but you pulled them away swiftly and shot her a glare. you were done with the excuses, done with being left in the dust

“babe, i’m so sorry” she shook her head and brushed off the sting that came with your reluctance to her touch “i totally spaced, i could’ve sworn it was next week”

“i’ve been talking about this for months, caitlin” the words stumbled out from gritted teeth, jaw clenched in anger. you had no idea what to say anymore.

she gulped deeply as she looked down to her feet, she was in the doghouse for sure. although you’d consider her fate to be much worse than that. you began to sniffle upon her silence. could she really not manage to say anything right now?

“let me make it up to you” she tried to compromise. part of her knew she’d never be able to outlive this, but she was delusional enough to still believe she could somehow fix it.

“no,” you breathed, bending down to take off your heels. there wasn’t even a point in salvaging this tonight “just forget it”

“no really, you’re upset and this meant a lot to you and i want to fix it”

that was your breaking point. perhaps she didn’t mean it that way, but did she really only see this as something important to you? did she care at all about spending time with you? you wouldn’t be dumb to think that she wouldn’t, she had hardly done anything recently to make you think otherwise.

“really?” you sneered again, there was nothing holding you back anymore. you tossed your shoes onto the couch, leaving them as a problem for later “you want to fix this because it meant a lot to me?”

caitlin tried to study your facial features as she said nothing yet again. she couldn’t tell if you were genuinely mad or just annoyed, willing to forgive or prepared to hold this against her. she noticed the deepened tones of your cheeks and nose, the twitch of your left eyebrow, and the motion of your tongue darting out to sooth the previous bites on your lip. she had never seen you this mad, not in the eternity she had known you. you were such a sweet and loving person, incapable of talking bad about someone or staying mad for long. but she’d be damned if it felt you hadn’t changed within a second.

“i thought you would’ve cared too” you continued “you know, since i’m your girlfriend and you should also want to spend time with me”

“i do spend time with you”

“the fuck you do”

“what the hell does that mean?” she questioned angrily “of course i do, i’ve just been busy”

“please enlighten me then” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes “when was the last time we spent time together?”

“well what about tuesday, huh? when we, uh..when we watched that movie before bed? or when we both went to the team dinner the other night? that was spending time together wasn’t it?”

“no i watched the movie, you barely talked to me all night and the crawled into bed and went to sleep with your back turned,” you choked up as you recalled the memory, you remembered how much it broke your heart. your fingers came to pinch the bridge of your nose as the familiar sting of tears washed over you. “and really, the team dinner? you call that spending time? is it really that if you just chat with your buddies the whole night? you practically ignored me the entire time”

she kissed her teeth at you, clearly aggravated, but deep down she knew you were right. she hadn’t been good to you at all these last few months. and if she were to really be fair to herself, she’d have to admit that it was taking a toll on her too. she didn’t know why she was doing this, why she was acting this way, but she had already made her bed and she’d have to lie in it. this was a habit she knew she’d been baring for quite some time, pulling away when things got hard, leaving her loved ones to cope with the pain from her mistakes. and it broke her heart each time, but with you, it was like she was losing air.

“i’m trying here, alright?” her throat was dry as she tried to give you some poor excuse. she was too caught up in her own shame that she was digging her grave deeper.

“look caitlin,” you glared “i don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but i’m tired. trying just won’t cut it. i know you’ve felt the distance too, we haven’t been normal for a while now and it’s killing me. i can’t eat alone every night, have you come home just to ignore me, and the only time i get with you is under the public eye or with your friends. i know you have shit going on, cait, but you keep pushing me further and further away from you and i don’t know how much longer i can take it. i’m here for you time and time again and you can’t find it in yourself to set aside one fucking night for me”

you chewed at your lip, carefully navigating your next move before continuing.

“i left my entire life behind for you, caitlin. my friends, my family, everything that i have ever known. i left it all to be here with you and support you. and the fact that i spend every day mourning you when you’re in the same house is suffocating, i just can’t do it”

body shaking with anticipation, you looked down at your bare feet. you couldn’t bring yourself to look her in the eyes anymore. before you could stop it, sobs racked your body, tears cascading down your face. the emotions were too much to handle.

“babe-” she cooed, voice softening upon your confession. she’d never felt so disappointed in herself.

“stop,” you said meekly, cutting her off through your own sniffles. you forced yourself to look at her briefly, wiping away the mascara that had definitely accumulated under your eyes. whatever she had to say, you couldn’t hear it tonight. whether it be an apology or total rejection, the end to this period of suffering was about to end and you weren’t ready to deal with it head on yet “i think we need some time, caitlin. i just-i’m too upset and i’m hurting and i think time will do us some good”

“wait what?”

“you need to work out your shit. i don’t know, i think i’ll go to one of my friends places or something for a while..because i can’t put myself through anymore of this”

“no,” it came out as a blurt, her mouth moving before she could think. although she wouldn’t want to think, the image of you leaving plaguing her mind already “please, no, we can figure this out! god, fuck- just please don’t leave me”

you watched her slowly breakdown, she was becoming increasingly hysteric as begged you to stay. you gulped hard when she started crying along with you, another one of the few times she had shown you this side of her. it pained you to see the sight, your instincts told you to take it all back and reassure her everything was ok. but you had to keep your head high and remind yourself that things wouldn’t be ok if you didn’t look out for yourself, even if that included stepping away from caitlin for a few days.

“i’m not…i’m not leaving you, cait. just gonna take some time away, we both need to think about how this relationship is going to continue. and i can’t have an open mind if the cycle continues. but i promise it’s not goodbye, ok?”

she breathed through staggered hiccups, trying to force her body to relax. she couldn’t stand to be without you, even if it didn’t seem like it these past few months. her calloused hand came up to run down her face, taking the tears with it in an attempt to calm down.

“yea” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. she hated this, but she knew you both needed the time. you were always right “yea, ok”

and with that, you reluctantly stalked to the bedroom to pack a bag for a few days. shoving random shirts and shorts into the small duffel, avoiding the ones that you’d previously stolen from caitlin over the years. she had opted to sulk alone in the living room, bracing herself by sitting on the couch. she still couldn’t process any of this, the fact that she wouldn’t be with you for more than a day made her sick. even more sick at the fact that you couldn’t talk this out right away, you’d both have to navigate your feelings alone for a while.

she was perched at the edge of the couch, knee bouncing at an alarming rate. her gaze was fixed at the wall in front of her, staring at the variety of pictures that you’d hung on the wall. some of you both when you were younger, others of pictures with your families, and a few from the vacations and holidays you two shared since you’d been together. but her favorite ones, the ones she couldn’t bring herself to look away from, where the one of just you both. her eyes flickered across each and everyone, looking at the way you smiled at her, eyes almost welling up again when she saw how happy you guys were. she’d do anything to have those moments back, go back in time and stop herself from treating you so horribly.

she was disrupted from her period of musing when she heard you walk down the stairs for the second time tonight. you came into view with a bang slung across your shoulder, high heels replaced with a beat up pair of converse. you grabbed your keys as you stopped momentarily to give caitlin a saddened look, lips drawn in an apologetic smile. but you had nothing to be sorry for, caitlin thought when she gave you a similar look in return.

“hey,” she said before you could reach the front door. you turned your head, hand resting on the knob. desperation lingered in her eyes “i love you, and i’m so fucking sorry”

you dipped your head and pursed your lips, letting her know of your approval before fully opening the door and beginning a solemn ascent to your friends apartment.

“i know”

On my last strength against you

Baby, tell me what you need

it had been 6 days. 6 agonizingly long days.

she had nothing but time to think, and yet, she couldn’t seem to gather her thoughts at the same time. her mind was everywhere, bouncing from regret and guilt, to anger and dissatisfaction, and of course the remorse and pain. this is what caitlin was afraid of doing, pushing herself so far away that it had finally gotten to you. she’d gotten caught up in her head so deep that she failed to realize how much you were hurting. she’d never forgive herself for this.

everything felt gloomier without you, she noticed that now. there was a certain comfort in you being there, even if she did ignore you and push you to the side, you’d always be there and she abused that luxury. from the moment you left the essence of your shared home shifted uncomfortably. it was like a storm had unleashed its wicked winds to reign terror over the household, dulling your spirt that had kept it so pleasant and welcoming.

but she had to admit, the time was good. she needed to sit and make a change, promise herself that she’d get better for you. even if that did mean she’d have to sleep alone for a few nights, order takeout because her cooking would never amount to yours, brush her teeth before bed and come home from practice with you nowhere in sight. it was a necessary torture, but only temporary, she reminded herself. maybe she’d never know why she was acting the way she was, have to come to terms with the fact that she’s a shitty girlfriend and doesn’t deserve the apology she hoped you were willing to give. but despite knowing or not knowing, at least she could catch the poison that was her troubled subconscious before it could sink too deep. it was time to give up the self loathing and internal ridiculing. she wouldn’t let herself hurt you anymore

caitlin had always struggled with holding herself to an unachievable standard, convincing herself that she would never be enough or worthy of all this attention. she couldn’t believe that so many people wanted to watch her play, that she was first pick and that she was finally playing pro like she always wanted-part of her thought it was too good to be true. but she didn’t want to wake up from this implausible dream, forcing herself to go above and beyond just to hold onto it. and in the process, she’d forgotten to make time for you too. it was foolish, to ignore you like she had, you were her everything. every waking moment, at every practice and at every game, you consumed the entirety of her mind. at the end of the day, she was doing this all for you.

it was easy to get lost in the fame and the excitement and the pressure, but it shouldn’t have been enough to make her neglect you. nonetheless, she managed to do it anyways. so she took these 6 days to reflect and really target why she felt like she needed to act like this. she would go to the ends of the earth for you, willing to pick herself apart if it meant making it up to you.

Come into my bedroom

her foot tapped nervously against the coir fiber of your friends doormat. a faded “welcome” written in black felt contradictory as she tried to find the motivation to knock. you hadn’t texted or called, hadn’t reached out to caitlin at all to let her know you were ready. but she needed you like she needed air and just had to see you. she had to finally apologize for how terrible she was acting, beg for your forgiveness because being away from you was eating her alive.

she let out a shaky breath as her closed fist met with the white wooden door, sending a loud pounding noise through the other side. caitlin could hear your friends dog barking and scratching against the door, followed by rushed footsteps that got increasingly closer. she barley had a moment to regather her thoughts before the door was pulled open harshly.

“caitlin?” your friend came into view, disheveled as she tried to keep her dog from running out the door. she quirked her eyebrows at caitlin’s presence, shocked and confused-and definitely a little angry-as to why she was at her door “what’re you doing here?”

“i um,” caitlin cleared her throat as if to stall, wanting more time to think of the right thing to say “i was hoping i could talk to-”

“i don’t think she’s ready to see you, cait” your friend muttered, trying to keep her voice down so you couldn’t hear. and you probably didn’t, caitlin was extremely aware of that.

“i know i know” caitlin urged “but i just need to see her ok? i need to make this right”

your friend chewed at the inside of her cheek as if contemplating her next move. you were her best friend and she’d do anything to protect you. after a few seconds, she shook her head and began closing the door, offering caitlin an apology and a goodbye as caitlin continued to beg for just one chance.

“no please, just let me see her! just a few minutes!” she said louder this time, slotting her sneaker clad foot in the doorway “i just need a second i swear to god-”

your friend put all she could into getting caitlin to leave, trying to push her out the door as quickly as possible. but she was persistent and continued her pleas.

somewhere in between the endless banter, through caitlin’s desperate cries and your friends agitated dismissals, came the answer to caitlin’s prayers. you were napping in the guest bedroom when she walked up the steps to your friends home, having been exhausted from sobbing throughout the night. just like caitlin, you hated sleeping alone. but your efforts to seek out peace were quickly interrupted when you heard subtle shouts from the the other room. curious and worried when you heard your friend raise her voice, you hurried to see what the commotion was all about.

you were surprised to the see the scene unfolding in front of you. your friend wrangling the door shut as her legs fought to keep the dog at bay, cussing out whoever was behind the door. you could’ve about laughed at her antics until you suddenly realized who it was that she was trying to shut out. you had assumed maybe an ex or maybe even a family member would have been the culprit, but the long silky black hair that glimmered through the gap in the door quickly corrected you.

“caitlin?” you questioned just as your friend had before. you stood back a few feet front the door, although your voice was loud enough to make the both of them stop.

their heads both whipped in your direction, the door creaking open wider so you could see her in full view. your friend huffed, rambling about how she thought you were asleep and how she was sorry that they had woken you up. but you discarded her as your eyes locked with your girlfriends. there was a certain look of grief in her eyes, the color almost fogging over in despair. your head told you to look away, the sight too depressing to stand, but your heart yearned for her nonetheless, unable to tear your eyes from her.

“YN” she spoke. it was like a cliche movie scene, like out of a fairytale, when the prince sees his princess in her natural beauty for this first time. whist she was hardly a prince and you hardly looked the part of a princess, the feeling was all the same. that feeling of reassurance and love. you were here, right here in front of her in your pajamas and bunny slippers, and suddenly she felt some sort of relief wash over her.

you walked over to them, assuring your friend that it was ok and asking her to give you some privacy. she walked away hesitantly after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze. she shot caitlin a disapproving glare as she disappeared back into the house. you ushered caitlin to follow you out to the front porch, motioning to the swing that croaked in the afternoon breeze.

“what’re you doing here cait?” you asked, not looking at her, as you settled on the swings cushion, using your foot to keep it from rocking back and forth “i thought we agreed to take some time”

she took the spot next to you slowly as if not to scare you off, she worried she’d mess this up with you. she so badly wanted to reach over, rest her hand against your thigh and feel the soft skin of your palm rest atop it. but she opted for her own lap, picking at her nails mindlessly.

“i know,” a sigh that had nestled deep in her chest had finally met its release when she began “but i couldn’t take it anymore. this week has been fucking torture for me…i had to see you”

sadness washed over you for a moment, like the sun in a day of mist when it has nothing to shine upon, only dissipating when you felt her shoulder brush against yours. there was almost a faint smile on the corner of your lips, you’d also missed her touch over these past few days. but reality was cruel as it brought you back to the present moment.

“it’s torture for me too” you admitted. you despised being away from her, constantly yearning to be with her whenever she was away.

“really?”

“of course” you snorted, shaking your head as you look out across your friends lawn. you eyed the hydrangea bushes that weaved its way through the porch railings, the patches of yellow that spread through the grass-what a statement to question “i always miss you when we’re apart, why wouldn’t i?”

it sounded stupid to say, you realized once the words left your mouth. nothing you had done would insinuate you missing her, especially leaving her to wallow in your apartment alone, if anything it did quite the opposite.

“cause i’ve been a fucking asshole” she blurted “i wouldn’t miss me either to be honest”

she wasn’t lying, she was an asshole. the pain and loneliness that you endured over the past several months were dreadful, and she was finally ready to admit that it was all her fault. there were no more excuses to hide behind, not when your relationship was at stake. as she reminisced on the many years you’d been in each others lives, she found no reason to validate her behavior. you were everything she could ever need, ever want, and she was taking that for granted.

“nothing could stop me from missing you, cait”

a bitter taste filled your mouth as you anxiously responded to her. you’d been biting down on your lip so hard that you had started to bleed, barely even noticing it through the stiff tension between you. it was silent again for a while as you both pondered on your next moves. should caitlin beg for your forgiveness, get on her knees in front of you and cry? or maybe it should be you, convincing the both of you it was a misunderstanding and you should just forgive her and go home? you’d been straining yourself with your own stubbornness and you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up. part of you wanted to hold your ground and let her know that you wouldn’t except this treatment, but the other part of you just wanted to fall into her embrace and forget about the whole thing. but before you could conquer this battle within your brain, caitlin beat you to it with a rapid burst.

“baby, i-” she said, stoping herself to think-was she even allowed to call you that anymore? her tongue clicked and her eyes squeezed shut, this feeling of guilt was insurmountable “i can’t tell you how sorry i am. how much i regret everything”

she sounded defeated as she fought to get the words out, a whimper threatening to spill at any moment. her nose stung as she sniffled back cries. she thought she’d never get through this, that she wouldn’t even be able to look you in the eyes. but to much of her dismay, your delicate hand met with hers, forcing her fidgety fingers to relax. she turned her head to look at you through damp lashes, and finally seeing your sparkling eyes looking back at hers, found the courage to continue.

“i get so…caught up in myself, and i forget about what’s right in front of me. practice, games, all the hate i’ve been getting recently-christ everything just starts beating down on me and i get so lost. i isolate myself and i push away anyone who tries to break through this damn wall i’ve put up..and when they do..i just end up hurting them” she watched your face contort as she spoke, your lips turning downward to a sympathetic frown. you were always too sweet to her, too good for this world “and that’s what i’ve done to you, the most amazing person in my life and i won’t ever forgive myself for it”

“honey..” the pet named rolled off your tongue effortlessly. caitlin would be lying if she said that hearing it didn’t put her mind at ease. you stuttered, trying to find the words yet again, but she urged you to let her finish.

“i’ve let my shit get in the way of loving you the way you should be. there’s no excuse for how i’ve treated you since the move to indy-not tough games or being homesick or any of that-and i’ve regretted every minute of it. you don’t deserve to go to bed alone just because i was upset, o-or to feel like you have to deal with your stuff by yourself…i know moving has been hard on you, especially since your entire family is back home…and the fact that i haven’t been any support to you is unacceptable and i take full blame for that. and for everything else too, like making you feel neglected? it’s fucking breaking my heart knowing that that’s what i’ve caused, that i’m never around and that i’ve been the furthest thing from a girlfriend. we’re supposed to be a team, we are a team, and all i’ve done is let you carry the weight of both of us. i’m so incredibly sorry and i’ll keep saying it until you believe me”

her chest rose and fell ever so faintly as she breathed deeply. she had run out of air as the words left her in a haste, eager to get her apology out. these past days were spent planning each word, each motion, each action so meticulously and she needed it to work.

and with her final huff, there was a gentle silence again, the wind chimes hanging from your friends porch ceiling clinked softly together. you removed your hand from caitlin’s, letting it rise to her and face and resting it on her cheekbone. the pad of your thumb rubbed into her soft skin, feeling the prominence of her defined cheekbone. she felt warm, probably worked up from the heightened emotions, but it was soothing in a way.

“i believe you, cait” you breathed. you felt her instantly relax into you, the weight of her head pressing into your palm. her eyes fluttered shut and her brows furrowed, she felt undeserving of your reluctance “and i know you’re sorry, it’s okay”

“it’s not” she mumbled against your hand “it’s far from okay. and i’m going to do everything i can to gain your trust back”

“you’re right, it’s not. but i know you’re actually sorry…and you don’t need to gain my trust back, babe. you’ve always had it” her lips quirked when she heard the lighthearted tone of your voice “you really hurt me, and these past few days have been straight from hell. but the fact that you came and owned up to it all shows me that you’re going to work on it”

she nodded frantically, agreeing with every word. because it was true, she’d go the extra mile to ensure you never felt like this again.

“i can’t imagine a world in which i’m not spending eternity with you..so i’m willing to forgive, but my heart won’t be able to bare this again and i need you to promise me it won’t happen in the future. i know you have so much going on in your life, you’ve gone through a lot, but it can’t continue to get in the way of us. i’m here for a reason, to listen and to help in any way i can. please talk to me instead of shutting me out-i want to be there for you okay?”

“of course, i’m going to be better. for you. you deserve more than what i’ve shown you and that’s far from how i want to be, we’re in this together and i want to change. i love you so fucking much and it’ll never happen again”

with a hand still on her cheek and a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned in closer to her. the denim of your jeans rubbed against the swing cushions as you moved nearly into her lap, close enough to press your lips to hers. you could tell the kiss caught her off guard when you felt her body jolt, but quickly relaxing when she fell under your enchantment.

it was a feeling that was hard to explain, like a flame being reignited or a spark nestling in the depth of your chest. you hadn’t kissed caitlin in quite some time, and when you did all that time ago, it had felt meaningless. but here it was different, the taste of jovial tears mixing with that of your lips, creating a rejuvenated feeling of love and adoration. there as a kick to this kiss as she pulled you in deeper, her hand coming to the back of your head to cradle you. it felt good again and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“i love you too”

Come into my bedroom

it had been about a week or so since you decided you were ready to come home and work on healing your relationship with caitlin, and it had already been going better than you had expected. even though the conversation on your best friends porch went smoothly, you had only imagined the fights and anger that would be exchanged once you came home. but caitlin had shown quite the change already and you could already feel the rips and holes of your relationship beginning to mend. she had been just as doting and soft as she was at the beginning of your relationship.

she was treating you to candlelit dinners, drawing you the most relaxing baths, and fitting time into her schedule for you no matter how long it might be. she even took you golfing with her and was dragging you along to outings with the team and occasional press events. you hadn’t felt this excited in a long time, it was like you were crushing on her all over again.

for the first time since your life started in indiana, the little things were beginning to matter.

and now it was a quiet weekend night in, the plushness of the living room carpet weaving between your bare toes as caitlin’s hands rested quaintly on your hips. the furniture had been been pushed off to the outskirts of the room in order to give your bodies plenty of space to sway freely. the overhead light fixture had been long forgotten once the evening sunset began to bleed through the window, creating the sweetest source of light. the old record player, the one you brought with you when you moved away from home, sat on the the table in the corner as it spun yours and caits favorite album. the tune hummed quietly as its scratchy notes bounced off the walls, yet it was perfect for a night like this.

maybe it was cheesy, the way you and caitlin rocked side to side as you danced in your pajamas to sappy love songs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. it was like a page out of the romance novels you read in high school. you were convinced this was all you needed in life, no luxury clothes or fancy dates, just you and caitlin soaking each other in as you danced around the apartment. it healed something in you as she spun you in her arms, laughing heartily when you stumbled. she was finally back to being your caity girl once more.

“what?” you giggled breathlessly after catching yourself from almost falling, pushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. she was staring at you when you faced her again, dimples evident as she grinned at you. her eyes had a softness to them, similar to the softness of her hand that snuck under your shirt to lightly pinch your side.

"nothin'" she shook her head with a wavering sigh "you're just...everything i've ever dreamed of, and i don't know- i just can't believe this is real"

she seemed choked up, in genuine disbelief that you were standing right in front of her, and it made your heart melt. it was moments like these that you craved, where her walls came down and she was completely herself with you. no pressure to look strong or tough, no holding back tears or true emotions, just pure love.

"of course it's real cait" you titled your head with an appreciative pout. you pulled her in with a comforting hand to the back of her head, leveraging yourself on your tiptoes to place a kiss to her forehead "what do you mean, baby?"

"like," she tried to find the words as she cleared her throat "like i can't believe that you're still with me. i don't know anyone who would stay through anything like the pain i've cause you. and the fact that you're right here in front of me, been so patient with me and understanding...i just feel so undeserving"

"hey, of course you're deserving" you politely scolded "we all make mistakes and sometimes they're bigger than we intend. but i love you more than words can describe and i know you've been trying to mend them. everyone has rough patches in their relationships, but i'm here to stay, caitlin. i'm not going anywhere"

you watched as her shoulders fell drastically; it was apparent that your words meant more than you had originally thought. she had always need reassurance, having always doubted herself in anything she did, and it was an unmatchable feeling knowing that you were the one to soother her. she nodded, not saying anything as leaned into you even more. so, you confided, not prying for a response. this vulnerability was already a big step for her.

you rested your forehead against hers, arms coming to loop around her neck. her long lashes fluttered as they tickled yours. the music was still playing in the background, allowing you both to fall into another oscillating rhythm. although it was cut short again when you felt her lips part, a quiet voice barely escaping her.

"it was you" it came out almost inaudible, leaving you confused on whether you hear her correctly or not.

"hm?"

"it was you," she said clearly this time, foreheads till touching and eyes shut in romantic bliss "from the second we met i knew it was going to be you. like a soulmate or life partner..whatver you want to call it, i just knew that you were going to be it for me"

as you stand there, your heart races, the world about stops spinning. each syllable strikes a chord deep within you, resonating with the echoes of past moments you’ve cherished with her. you could hear those words over and over and never get tired of it. The weight of uncertainty from the past months finally lifts, replaced by an exhilaration that makes everything else fade into the background. nothing else mattered anymore, no stress and no disdain for the road ahead, just you, caitlin, and an eternity together.

"you're it for me too," you said "in every lifetime"

A/N: FINALLY!! it's finished!! i definitely didn't spell check this, so if you catch any mistakes, feel free to DM me so i can fix it! i love you and thank you for your patience with this fic :')

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touchme-teezme · 1 month ago

Text

Last Pick.

PAIRING | ateez mingi x female bodied!reader

TAGS | angst, smut, friends to lovers(?), p0rn with a plot with a cliffhanger (oopsie), lots of kissing, oral, reader was angry then h0rny…and then sad :( oh! and mingi’s lowkey a hoe

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors DNI!)

SONGS | Cherry Hill - Russ, That's why I love you - SiR & Sabrina Claudio & Do you like me? - Daniel Cesar

SUMMARY | you and mingi are best friends. he likes you, but you love him. one fight changes the trajectory of your friendship forever.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i didn't know if i wanted to write angst or smut... so here's both? a bonus fic to celebrate the hard (pun intended) launch of my blog! it’s a bit more dramatic than i’m used to but that’s what creative writing is for. i have a few other members in my drafts. i plan to update sometime this week. might just spam them idk. i've been in such a writing mojo lately; i think i just miss ateez haha. also if you’re new, english is not my first language so if i get some terminologies mixed up, sorry!! that's all, enjoy ya freaks.

inspired by a quote from ‘save me an orange’ by hayley grace. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

It was getting late, and you were growing tired.

Mentally tired. You were tired of hearing the same stories, the same kind of complaining, and most of all, tired of pathetically waiting on the sidelines. You’ve been avoiding the truth for so long that you didn’t notice it consumed you.

You weren’t Mingi’s type. He liked their personalities, bright, funny, and effortlessly interesting. Feminine, sexy and confident. Girls that could lead and had interesting hobbies. Compared to his colourful dating history, you felt like you weren’t anything particularly special.

You finally accepted that tonight, while drinking on your balcony as you listened to how his tinder dates this month went. At the mention of the second girl (whose name you already forgot), you were already dying inside.

Before you thought it wouldn’t get any worse, he went off topic and started talking about his future and what he actually wanted.

He blurted out that he should just marry you if he was still single at 35, declaring he had officially given up on the shrinking dating pool.

He looked at you with a mix of admiration and bliss in his eyes. That stupid, goddamn part of your brain convinced you it could happen. He acknowledged that small 0.0001% possibility of you and him ending up together, so there was actually a chance you could actually be with him.

But reality sunk in and drowned you.

Song Mingi would never love you.

That’s when the little glimmer of hope you’d carried throughout your friendship shattered. The shards had cut you and hurt bled out.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You sighed.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

Mingi didn’t know what to say at first, but at least a hundred responses came to his mind.

His face (which usually said whatever he was thinking for him) settled into a look that screamed Where did THAT come from? for him.

That was enough to discourage you altogether. You let silence grow between you two, quietly finishing your last sip with nothing but the sounds of midnight Seoul traffic beneath you.

You set the glass bottle on the table and rose from your chair. “I’m going to bed. You can hang out here or just leave or whatever.”

Mingi took a few seconds to process the shift in mood before he ran after you inside. He thought you two were having some decent conversations, but he got ahead of himself like he usually does.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

You paused and turned around slowly. You were trying to carefully pick out the right words from what you were feeling.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“I know, that’s why I came. You weren’t really replying to me and San said he hasn’t heard from you. I…I just wanted to see you.”

“Well, you saw me. You can go.” You shrugged.

Mingi furrowed his eyebrows. “If this is about what I said about marrying you, I wasn’t serious. I know you don’t believe in marriage and—“

You let out a wry scoff, cutting his weak explanation short. You could’ve been mean, throw him out, laugh it off and say you were kidding. But you couldn’t ignore that feeling in your chest anymore.

With eyes shut, you murmured, “I hate how you make me feel sometimes.” and when you opened your eyes, they were already watery.

Mingi's face fell. "Hey, c’mon, I didn't mean to upset you."

He approached you delicately, his large hands encasing yours with a gentle touch. If he were to pull you in for one of his bear hugs, you might explode.

You quickly stepped back, creating distance between as you refused his hands. “That’s all you do lately. You don’t even realise half of the shit you say and how much it hurts to hear.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was now growing very concerned. “I thought we were friends.”

“Do friends make each other feel like they’re the last pick of the litter?”

Mingi's eyes widened. "Last pick? Hey, what is going on with you?"

You laughed, but it was devoid of humour. "Let me break this down for you. All I have been hearing about these days are your dates, your perfect girls, how you have no connection with them so you’re going to die alone and yet you’re still choosing to sleep with the entire city. Then you throw out this ridiculous idea of how you want to settle down eventually, and when you’ve had your fun, you would marry me. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

He looked taken aback. “But… what I said, that was a joke and—“

"A joke?!” Your voice rose. "My feelings are a joke to you? Do you have any idea how long I've been…”

You stopped yourself, your mouth hanging slightly open as you realised there was no point. You had no business convincing a man to want you.

Still, the volume and hurt in your voice stunned him into silence despite you not finishing your sentence.

"You know what? Just get out." You seemed firm and dismissive, yet your heart was breaking. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with just being your friend if this is how it’s going to be until you… decide to settle. You have to go."

Mingi stood there, shock and confusion written all over his face. "You don't mean that. Please, we can talk about this.”

"No, Mingi. Just leave," you insisted, your voice cracking as you further widened the space between you, your hands held up in surrender as you walked away. "I'm done."

Yet another awkward silence grew between you. For a moment, Mingi didn’t move. He just watched you slowly walk towards your closed bedroom door disappointed.

Then, as if something snapped inside him. He finally realized what this was about.

You had feelings for him.

You didn’t say it out loud, but it made sense and Mingi felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He crossed the distance between you in two quick strides, desperate to reach you. His hand grabbed your shoulder first, turning you around.

“No, we’re talking about this.”

“I have nothing else to say to you. Go fuck someone new on tinder and just leave me out of it.”

“Dude, come on this is not how we talk to each other.” He was getting way too close to you.

“I couldn’t give two shits about how we talk to each other when you’ve pissed me off. So now, you have to go.”

“You almost said it a minute ago. Tell me why the girls bother you, why what I said bother you. I need to hear it.” He demanded.

Okay, that pissed you off more than you already were. Your chest heaved with the intensity of your emotions, the words bubbling up from a place you had kept buried for too long.

“This is stupid,” You whispered, shaking your head as your eyes continued watering as your gaze pierced into his. “You’re stupid, and you make me feel stupid.”

“Say what you wanted to, and I’ll go, and we never have to speak again.”

“So that’s it? You want an ego boost? You wanna feel on top?!” You practically yelled in his face.

“If that’ll make you be fucking honest for once, it might be worth it!”

“You’re so pretentious. I can’t believe I ever stuck around this long!”

“Why did you then, huh? Tell me exactly why you did!”

His yelling echoed in your apartment. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you stared at his lips.

Fuck it.

You closed the final few inches of distance between you in a swift motion. Gripping onto his shirt, you pulled him towards you forcefully, crashing your lips onto his with all the built-up anger and frustration pouring out.

Mingi was completely caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss. But the second you tried to pull away, he grabbed you back in. His hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you against him as the kiss deepened.

He lifted one of your legs up to the sides of his hip as he pushed you up against the bedroom door, cushioning the impact with his palm on the back of your head. The heat between your legs was growing and rubbing against his crotch was making it worse.

Your hands were exploring his chest, his shoulders, his face and his hair. You finally gasped for air, tilting your head up which invited him to kiss down your chin to your neck.

“I hate you, I fucking hate you.” I whispered out, shaking your head. Baffled at how good of a kisser he was, but with how he was spending his weekends, it wasn’t exactly a mystery.

He bent down to hoist you up by your thighs, effortlessly wrapping them around his waist. With one of your arms snaked around his neck for support, the other reached behind to open the door.

“Hate me later.” He muttered, kissing you again as he carried you into your dark bedroom.

He laid you down, sandwiching you between his chest and your mattress. You could feel him getting hard through the tin fabric of his Adidas shorts.

He smelled so fucking good. His natural scent mixed with a hint of the cologne you got for him for his birthday made your imagination go wild. Your hands reached the hem of his shirt like an animal instinct, tempted to rip it off him if he didn’t take it off in the next few seconds.

He pulled up and tugged his shirt over his head when he noticed your neediness. In the faint light of the opened door behind him, you could see the outline of his toned body.

Soft streetlights from outside the window above the bed frame gently illuminated his face that looked down at you like you were a full course meal and he was starving.

You have found Mingi handsome since the first day you met. Hell, even he knew he was handsome but something about how he looked at that moment sent chills all throughout your body.

When he leaned back down over you, you couldn’t resist reaching out to his face to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing back and forth near the beauty mark on his face.

He took your hand gently, kissing the back of it. Guiding your hand to his chest, he let you trace your fingertips down his body.

You almost forgot why you were angry.

“Do you want to do this?” He asked, still sounding a little breathless from the escalation.

You looked up from your hand on his lower abdomen, “If you leave now I might actually kill you.”

almost.

He took in bottom lip with his teeth to hide an excited smile, before leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss. This time, he moved slower, savouring whatever was left of that cherry lip balm you had on. “I wasn’t planning to.”

You smiled into the next kiss. Typically you’re not supposed to enjoy having the tongue of the person you were just screaming at in your mouth, but you wanted it there for as long as possible. In fact, you wanted that tongue everywhere on you.

Mingi on the other hand was trying really hard to focus but he could literally feel your nipples through the t-shirt you still had on.

Why the fuck was it even still on, he had no idea.

He was now thinking about how you did not have a bra on the entire time he was hanging out at your house, wondering how often it had been happening without him realising.

You grabbed onto the sides of his hips, and groaned in his mouth. He flipped over, positioning you so you were centred on his hard cock. You readjusted your legs to straddle him comfortably, your arms crossing behind his neck for support as he was sitting up.

His hands found their way to your ass, squeezing it in encouragement as you started bucking your hips against him. Your nails scratching up his shoulders as you started to wonder if the rumours about his dick size were true — all while the friction was driving him insane with arousal.

He helped you take your baggy t-shirt over your head. Delighted that you weren’t wearing a bra, he even fixed your hair once it was off, carefully flipping it behind your shoulders. He slid a hand to the small of your bare back, stealing a quick glance at your face.

You were the prettiest girl he knew. He had told you that a few times, but stopped once he realised you were never going to believe him. He’d be lying if he said he was never attracted to you, he just could never find the courage to cross that line. He was afraid of losing you more than anyone else he’d ever met.

“What?” You simply asked.

Doe eyed, topless, in his arms. Mingi could’ve sworn he had a wet dream about this once. His eyes dipped to your chest without saying a word, and he buried his face there. You rolled your eyes, but inside you were screaming with joy.

He caught your left nipple between his swollen lips while he massaged the other in his free hand. You squirmed when you felt him nibble, and twist you like a personal bop it. You even felt the fucker smirk against your skin at your reaction.

Your hand moved to roughly grip on the hair on the back of his head and your back arched towards him, feeling his tongue licking on your chest in a circular motion.

His eyes looked up at you, as he sucked on your breasts sloppily and kneading them with his hand, admiring his view and the feeling it came with.

You felt the tip of his nose brush up across your collarbone to return to your neck. You were getting so wet, it’s a miracle you managed to restrain yourself from taking those eager hands of his and shoving them in your shorts.

“I-I’m still mad…a-at you.” You managed to choke out, shuddering from the tingling feeling of him sucking on a sweet spot you didn’t know you had.

“I know.” He groaned.

Your hand reached down to the rock solid boner you had been grinding up against. He took a sharp hiss of breath at your touch.

He flipped you over again before you could’ve tried to slip off his pants. He guided you a little higher on the bed and then sat up to pull your shorts and your underwear down in one firm swift motion.

With his hands gently on your knees, he parted your legs. “Fuck…” He whispered.

As you lay on the bed, propped up on your elbows, you were a little embarrassed that he was seeing that part of you at first, but the way his eyes looked into yours and raked down your body made you grow a little more confident in your skin.

“Are you gonna just stare?” You nodded your head at him.

“I’m taking my time because you have no idea how often I’ve thought of doing this to you.”

“Slut.”

Mingi cracked into a grin, his tongue cheekily running across his top teeth as he shook his head and took your leg over his shoulder. He pushed your other knee further out when he started to lean down, coming closer to your dripping cunt.

Took his time, he did.

He cherished every kiss, and the way his nose slid up and down against you made your breathing shaky. Your hands fondled your own tits that were still a little damp from his licks from earlier.

When he started basically making out with your clit, your head threw back and you couldn’t hold back your breathy moans. Your hips started to rock into his tongue.

“Who’s the slut now?” You heard him coo from under you. He watched you with fox-like eyes, keeping a vigilant gaze while you stimulated yourself and something about it made it ten times hotter.

“S-still you—Ah, Mingi!” Your head dropped onto the bed.

Your clit was swollen, and his fingers invited themselves between your folds before entering. There’s no way you could’ve held in that loud moan, or mask the look of absolute pure pleasure that contorted your face.

Something about how you were unravelling at the curl of his finger inside you, with your heel dug in lot his back and the sound of you moaning his name over and over had him excited for what’s to come.

Figuratively and literally.

Mingi’s dick had never been harder.

You reached for his hand that was gripping on your thigh to keep your legs parted. Your mouth dropped open as your eyes squeezed shut to feel the electrifying sensation throughout your entire body. His fingers and the upper inner part of your thighs were coated in your release.

Holy shit, Mingi actually made you cum. And he sucked and licked every last of it as you were riding it out.

He sucked on your clit one last time, giving a quick kiss goodbye before crawling up your body to meet your face.

His hand was beside your face as he tilted his head to the side. Mingi hovered over you and though you felt a bit dizzy, you managed to mirror the grin on his face.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Furious.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

As you sat up slowly, he started to retreat to reel you in with your faces mere inches apart. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him down to get onto his back.

Who knows when’s the next time you would ever to be able to do this? In the back of your head, you knew this was a heat of a moment kind of thing, eventhough it made you a little sad, you wanted to kiss him again and again.

And he was more than willing to entertain it.

You could taste yourself off his lips. The dirtiness of it all made it hotter. His nails running up and down the side of your thigh as your chest pressed against his.

You moved down, planting little kisses down his gorgeous physique, you hands gripping on his sides as he watched. His hand reached out stroking the top of your head.

This had to be a dream.

You looked up when you reached the drawstring of the shorts he had on.

“Okay, okay, just be gentle,” He asked softly. “I’m a little… uh…”

With your teeth, you undid the little bow and tug his shorts down. Rumour confirmed: he was huge. Girthy, long, with cum already dripping down its sides from tip.

You thought you were seeing things wrongly so your hand reached out to hold it by the base and stroked up.

“Needy?” You teased.

Mingi’s brain electrocuted for a second, unsure if it was the tone or your hands. He flinched, “S-shit, baby, I’m really… hold on—“

You leaned forward, wrapping your hand comfortably around the base as you started to return the treatment he just gave you — tenfold. Mingi’s flustered face transformed into a look of pure satisfaction.

The way you licked, kissed, and sucked all over his shaft, he’d float if he could. The lewd noises you were making made him hiss, bitting in his lower lip as he watched from above.

“S-shit you’re doing so good.” He managed to say, leaning over to comb back your hair in his hands as you steadied your pace.

When his tip scratched the back of your throat, he was done for. You almost ended up choking on the cum that bursted out of his wet hard cock that pooled warm in your mouth, and swallowed.

The noise he made was unlike anything you’d ever heard in your decade long friendship, and it was the best he’d ever felt out of all his past experiences.

But that wasn’t why he had to take a breather. He realised how wrong he’d been doing you. Knowing how you felt about him, and how he’s been treating you made him wonder if he even deserved to see you this way.

He moved in behind you, gently guiding your face toward his for a soft, sweet kiss that made you smile. He trailed playful kisses along the side of your face as your hand caressed his. His large hands traced lightly over your waist.

If foreplay was this good already, he could only imagine how mind boggling actually fucking you would be. But he seemed to enjoy finally being able to shamelessly kiss you and touch you wherever he wanted more though.

You, however, had a different thought. The lines of your friendship were already blurred. Being with him like this had been a fantasy, but now you were stepping into uncharted territory, where everything about your relationship with him might change — if it hadn’t already.

That’s when reality hit, your smile fading. You needed a moment to pull back.

He started slowing down when he noticed you or your body weren’t really responding to him anymore.

It hit you like a cold splash of reality—his stories of conquests, the way he casually shared tales of his past flings, and how effortlessly he moved on from each one.

“Hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

In that moment, you realized you were just another number on his hit list, a fleeting moment in his game, and the weight of that truth settled heavily in your chest, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

Even with his own doubts, Mingi was still ready to take things further right then and there, but seeing that look — the one you make when you have a lot on your mind — he couldn’t bring himself to continue.

His hand reached out, caressing the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear in comfort, “We don’t have to, you know.”

You nodded, “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m thinking a lot right now.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He smiled at you, shaking his head in reassurance before closing in to kiss the side of your head.

He shifted on the bed, pulling you into an embrace and brought you close to him under the sheets.

You’ve shared this bed several times over the years, but never this intimately, without a pillow barrier or clothes on. This easily felt very new to both of you, yet still comfortable enough.

As you cuddled facing eachother, you turned to the ceiling as your thoughts began to swirl. You had settled the argument from earlier with your bodies, but the confusion in your heart still remained.

“Are you okay?” Mingi finally asked, concern in his eyes as you took your time to answer.

“Yeah, just…” The room felt colder, smaller, and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes as you turned to look at him. “I don’t want to be like the others. I don’t want us to end up being… nothing.”

“You’re not like the others,” Mingi said softly, turning to face you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m serious. I’m sorry for the stupid things I said. You are… you’re everything to me. You’re it, and—”

You’d heard it all before. You knew his usual pretty words for his pretty girls thanks to his stories but what you didn’t know was how he actually meant what he said this time.

“Look, Mingi…I just can’t do the whole friends-with-benefits thing. I can’t just stay friends after this. I need you all in if you’re going to be in my life.” Your voice trembled, and each word felt like a struggle. This boy had a grip on your heart that made the thought of losing him hurt. “If you can’t do that, you really need to go tomorrow morning, okay?”

He took a moment to let your words sink in, the silence stretching between you. Then, quietly, he leaned in and kissed you—a soft, gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his skin soothed you in the cool air as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

#ateez smut #ateez #reader x mingi #song mingi #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #atz x reader #atz smut #atz fanfic #atiny #one shot

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naeviskz · 8 months ago

Text

genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship

words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread

this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.

“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.

you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.

hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.

“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”

“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.

he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.

“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.

how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.

the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.

so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.

“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.

no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.

hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”

* :.･ﾟﾟ･ ✿

“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.

the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.

you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.

“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.

a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.

just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.

“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”

your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.

once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.

“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”

“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.

maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?

- 完 ♡︎

#hyunjin angst #skz angst #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz drabbles #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin smut #skz imagines #hyunjin drabbles #hyunjin x female reader #stray kids x reader

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theloveinc · 1 year ago

Note

any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟

whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3

(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)

Miguel O'Hara

- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.

It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!

...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.

- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.

Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.

- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.

No. No sir.

(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)

- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).

Hobie Brown

- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭

You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.

- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.

Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."

HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????

(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)

- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:

"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.

#miguel o'hara x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie #miguel #atsv #LOL THIS WAS SO FUNNNN I HOPE ITS OK TO READ #I'M EBARASSED THO SO YEEET #SORRY I BAD AT TAGS LATELY WAHH #caitie things #gen #anon

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momonyu · 2 years ago

Text

the one that (almost) got away

roronoa zoro x fem!reader

it takes him 12 hours to realize

3.6k words

a/n: ok listen, i think i started writing this like 6+ months ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts bc idk how to commit to endings so y’all are gonna have to take this as it is. also i have no concept of how sailing works or how long it takes oops

9:00 pm

“y'know, there's really no point to a farewell party if the one leaving isn't there.”

you look up from your spot on the library floor. your eyes land on the green-haired swordsman leaning against the doorframe and you smile.

“i’ll be there in a second. i just have some more stuff to go through.”

zoro eyes the mess of books surrounding you, recognizing a few of nami’s atlases and robin’s textbooks. “you haven’t finished packing yet?”

“i’m mostly done. i’m just trying to decide which books i want to keep.” catching his eye, you joke, “why? you want me gone that bad?”

crossing the room, a scoff leaves his lips. nothing could be further from the truth.

“you got me. i am so sick of you,” he says with a grin. “can’t wait to get rid of the annoying librarian invading my napping spot.”

zoro plops down on the bench behind you, catching a whiff of your shampoo as he lies down. you sit with your back to him, sorting through your piles, but zoro can hear the smile in your voice when you speak.

“you’re such a pretender, eh?”

zoro puts on a look of overdramatic offense, a hand on his chest. “me? you’re talking about me?”

at his poor acting, you turn around. you rest your chin on the bench, your face so close to zoro’s that one could only describe it as a kissable distance.

“you act like i'm all in your space, but nami told me that you never used to spend any time in here at all!”

“pfft, why would you ever trust what that con artist has to say?” zoro pokes your forehead. “you see it with your own eyes. am i or am i not here every day?”

you purse your lips as you think back to the last few months; he’s right.

you’ve spent most of your days in the ship’s library, and zoro has almost always stopped by. in the beginning, it would be for a few minutes, but over the last little while, he’d be in here as long as you were.

zoro smiles as he watches you think, eyebrows furrowed as you replay the last few months in your head. little do you know that this is exactly why the library is his new hideout. watching your pretty little mind work — doing what you love, thinking and studying and reading — is a far better use of his spare time than anything else he could be doing.

“anyway,” he says. “i guess your silly star stories have been a good trade-off.”

now it’s your turn to be mock-offended.

“silly star stories? you’re the one who asked about the constellations in the first place!”

“only because you kept talking about these fictional gods like they actually did something important.”

“says the guy who's completely enthralled by hades,” you roll your eyes.

“king of hell, god of the underworld,” he grins. “that’s my kinda guy.”

zoro laughs when you shake your head at him. he’ll never tire of teasing you; you are far too adorable with your little sigh and a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“did you know,” he says with a playful look. “that you still owe me about ten more constellation stories? d’you think you could squeeze in one more before we head up?”

zoro smiles at you, and you can't help but smile back.

you have so many treasured memories with zoro in this library; ones of just the two of you (him napping while you studied), ones with nami and robin (and sanji until nami kicked the boys out for their incessant bickering), and ones where the night listens in as you recite the history of the stars.

whether you were telling the story of another righteous deity enacting justice, or the tale of mere mortals who insulted the gods, zoro would listen with his eyes closed, lying across the bench as he is now, and you’d sit in front of him as you are now.

everyone’s waiting for you upstairs and you hate to disappoint, but some things are more important — like telling a silly star story to a silly swordsman.

“of course i can.”

12:00 am

raucous laughter and cheering that’s loud enough to deafen anybody; empty plates, once piled high with food, now scattered around the room; bottles on bottles of sake and rum and whiskey and every liqueur that one would hope to find on a pirate ship.

these are zoro’s requirements for a good time, and suffice to say that your farewell party has them all in spades.

zoro watches his friends’ tomfoolery from his spot at the table (currently, luffy’s trying to get franky to see how far he can slingshot him) when you plop yourself into the seat beside him.

“this,” you say as your arm knocks against his, “is the best party i’ve ever been to.”

zoro takes a swig from his glass, “you haven’t partied until you’ve partied with pirates.”

“seriously! you guys are insane!”

as if to prove your point, franky chooses that exact moment to show off a juggling sequence involving a barrel of whiskey, a giant potted plant, and a squealing chopper.

you gasp at the spectacle but quickly dissolve into laughter when nami saves chopper, and it’s with both awe and pure excitement that you turn to zoro. laughter is etched into your lips, your cheeks are flushed, and zoro can’t help but marvel at how you’re even cuter when you’re having fun.

“what, you’ve never seen a cyborg man toss a speaking reindeer in the air before?”

you nudge him with your elbow, “well, excuse me for leading such a mundane life where animals don’t speak and men don’t tinker with their bodies.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

you look at zoro quizically.

he takes a sip of his beer, “most men do tinker with their bodies.”

it takes you a moment to catch his innuendo and zoro roars with laughter when the realization hits you. embarrassment tinges your pretty face and you shove him with a loud “ew, zoro!” but he can’t stop cackling.

“you’re disgusting!”

you make to swat zoro across the chest but he quickly catches your hand. he leans in to waggle his eyebrows at you, “but i’m not wrong, am i?”

you groan loudly, which only makes him laugh again.

perhaps it’s the alcohol that let his inhibitions go, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have much longer with you, but when you hastily change the subject and there’s no longer a reason for him to still be holding your hand, he doesn’t let go.

when nami joins you two, his fingers slips between yours and to his surprise, yours do the same. sanji joins your threesome, then franky and robin, and in no time at all, it’s no longer just the two of you at the table.

but zoro doesn’t care.

drunk, carefree, and more content than he’s ever been, zoro closes his eyes and smiles. he lives in the moment, and in this moment, he’s happy — happy with a full stomach and a full glass, happy to be surrounded by his favourite people, and happy that, under the table, you’re still holding his hand.

3:00 am

“and what’s that one?”

hands swinging between you, you and zoro dodge the tide as you roam further and further from the thousand sunny. the sand is cool under your feet and the tide kisses your toes with each step. your other arm is stretched above you, pointing at a constellation in the distance.

“what is this - a pop quiz?”

you smile, “i want to make sure you don’t forget about my ‘silly star stories.’”

zoro groans, “has anyone told you that holding grudges isn’t healthy? keeping going and you’ll turn into a bitter old thing some day.”

you stick out your tongue, “you’re just afraid you’ll get it wrong.”

“wrong?” zoro scoffs. “i’ve gotten the past six right.”

walking along the beach, you and zoro fall in step with each other and your footsteps match the ebbing waves in perfect rhythm. you smile in his direction and his chest is flooded with a warmth that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed.

“alright, let’s see what we got here.”

zoro follows your gaze at the cluster of stars you’ve chosen, and he grins when he sees the constellation. “really? at least try to make this hard for me, please.”

his cocky attitude leaves you speechless, making zoro laugh.

“you’re so annoying!” you shove him with your free hand and the force of his stumble pulls you along, and you shriek as he drags you into the ocean with him. he doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second — not when water splashes your legs, not when zoro’s pants get soaked as he spins you around.

your laughter is warmth in its purest form, the kind that you can feel all the way down to your cold toes. when he sets you back down, you give his hand a little squeeze, to which zoro answers back with a tender smile.

now with wet feet and a distance between you that’s even smaller than it already was, zoro continues to walk alongside you.

“moving on from your pathetic distraction attempt,” — you let out a dramatic gasp — “i’ll tell you exactly who we were looking at.”

pointing at the starry zodiac sign, zoro speaks with complete confidence.

“virgo the maiden, otherwise known as persephone, wife and muse of the best god of them all, hades—”

“fanboy much?” you tease but zoro pretends not to hear you (the little tug of his lips tells you that he does).

“—who snuck her a pomegranate seed because he couldn’t bear for her to leave him.”

zoro puffs his chest with pride, relishing in this one niche study of which he is now an expert. it’s incredibly endearing how pleased he is with his answer and you almost feel bad for correcting him.

almost.

“good answer,” you grin. “but you left out the little detail about how she was kept in hell against her will.”

zoro gasps, “are you accusing my idol of being a kidnapper?”

“your idol!” your cheeks already hurt so much from smiling but another giggle slips out. “first of all, these aren’t my accusations. historians have told their love story this way for years—”

“slander is what this is.”

“—and secondly, why would you want to look up to hades? he’s literally the antagonist in every story.”

“he’s the king of hell! that’s so bad ass.” zoro winks at you, “don’t be surprised if you hear them calling me ‘zoro, king of hell’ some day.”

“what’s wrong, demon of east blue doesn’t go hard enough for you?”

embarrassment rushes to zoro’s face and he’s never been more grateful for the night. “who told you that? was it usopp or nami? i bet it was nami.”

“i might hold a grudge but i don’t snitch,” you flash a mischievous smile. “anyway, let’s get back to how you want to be just like devil who tricked a poor girl in returning to the underworld.”

“come on, can you blame a man for doing whatever it takes to stop his beloved from leaving him?”

it sounds like an innocent question — harmless banter, really — but something in the way he says it makes you stop dead in your tracks. a silence falls and in its wake, all you can do is stare at the man you’ve spent the last several months with, the same man that you have to say goodbye to tomorrow.

moonlight falls unto the both of you and bathes zoro in soft light. it illuminates his eyes and when you meet his gaze, you see a sense of longing there that you feel in your chest. a longing for what, you don’t know — or rather, you don’t want to know.

at least, not yet.

so you hold his hand a little tighter, and underneath the watchful eye of the gods and constellations, muster a smile,

“i guess not.”

6:00 am

if this was any other morning, zoro would be awake and working out already. he'd be done his fourth set of bicep curls or, at the very least, working on his form. he could even be in the middle of deadlifts (because he knows not to skip leg day), but he definitely wouldn't still be in bed the way that he is right now.

the thing is though, if this was any other morning, he wouldn't have you sleeping next to him, curled into him like you were made to be a perfect fit.

he's never been more glad to still be in bed.

your breath matches the rise and fall of zoro's chest, perfectly in rhythm with the waves outside his window and the beat of his heart, like the universe meant for all these things to be in harmony at this one singular moment in time.

your lashes flutter in response when he shifts his weight.

he takes a peek at you, “psst, are you awake?”

eyes still closed, you manage a noncommittal grunt but your body says otherwise.

zoro can’t help but smile as he watches you start to wake up. your toes wiggle beneath the covers and you rub your eyes before looking up at him with an adorably sleepy look that he would love to wake up to every day.

if only he could.

you focus your gaze on zoro like he’s an anchor in a sea of slumber. the way that you look at him, as if he’s the only thing that you see, fills his chest with a golden warmth akin to the breaking dawn.

you offer him a soft smile, and zoro wonders if the sun knows that you glow brighter than it ever could.

“why are you up at this ungodly hour?”

he chuckles, low and tender, “’m used to it. i’m usually up by now.”

“freak,” you mutter. zoro laughs, and you can’t think of anything else that sounds more beautiful at six in the morning.

you’re not usually up this early but what you notice is that, at dawn, time has a habit of moving slowly. it’s as if the morning casts magic upon those who rise with the daylight — and you’re so thankful for that.

because if time moved any faster than this, you’d have to say goodbye that much sooner.

“are you going to miss us?” zoro puts his arms around you.

you murmur into his chest, “of course, i will.”

“who do you think you’ll miss the most?”

you give pause and zoro’s almost certain you can hear his heart beating a little louder — he can definitely hear it. he doesn’t typically get nervous like this but, then again, nothing about the way you make him feel is typical.

you seem to have come to a conclusion because you look up at zoro and he holds his breath.

“sanji.”

he blinks.

“wait, are you serious?”

you’ve never seen zoro looks so wonderfully scandalized before, and you burst into a fit of giggles. as soon as you start, he knows he’s been had. he scowls but only for a moment; for who could be upset in the presence of such twinkling laughter?

“silly man,” you snuggle closer, "of course i’m not serious.”

“okay, good.” you can hear the smile in his voice. “i don’t know if my ego could handle losing to him.”

zoro holds you close, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. his movements are slow, steady, comforting — ‘round and ‘round, in the same spot, like he’s drawing an invisible mark that is only known to the two of you.

"but, you know,” you hum, careful not to disrupt the peace. “you wouldn’t.”

“wouldn’t what?”

“lose.” and after a beat, you quietly add, “you wouldn’t lose to anyone.”

and just like that, zoro’s on cloud nine, airborne and weightless. he’s always known that he has a place in your heart, but this is the first time that you’ve ever hinted about where that place may be. if he allowed himself to be hopeful, it almost sounds like a confession.

but almost isn’t good enough for him. zoro wants more — wants to find out exactly where he belongs in your life, wants to know if he can make himself at home there.

it’s a shame that he’s out of time.

you interrupt his thoughts with a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the ocean and his aching heart,

“will you miss me?”

more than anything.

9:00 am

surely, zoro’s dream to be hades has been granted. otherwise, why would it feel like he’s in hell, standing on the deck, all alone and watching your dinghy sail away from the thousand sunny?

zoro’s had his fair shares of farewells while aboard the ship, and to be honest, yours wasn’t any more emotional than anyone else’s. you left with a smile as beautiful as the morning sun and with far less tears than he expected (which he’s thankful for because he would hate to see you cry). as far as bittersweet goodbyes go, yours was definitely more sweet than bitter.

and yet, here zoro stands, with a bad taste in his mouth that he can’t explain. he can still see you from where he stands, and watching your little boat in the distance is the only thing that seems to settle his uneasy heart.

should he have bid adieu privately? maybe he should’ve left you with a memento of some kind? should he have done more than offer you a quick hug? was it his imagination, or did you hold onto him just a beat longer than you needed to?

zoro’s so occupied by these messy thoughts that he doesn’t even hear sanji approach him.

“well?”

startled, zoro can only stare at the blond cook. ignoring the dumb look on his face, sanji continues.

“what’d she say when you told her?” sanji nods in the direction of your boat.

“told her what?”

“that you love her,” sanji takes a drag of his cigarette, looking at zoro directly now.

he speaks so frankly, so matter-of-fact and candidly, that it takes zoro a second to really register what it is that he’s saying.

he loves you.

and as soon as he thinks it, the truth comes barreling through all the doubts clouding his head. clarity floods his chest as he comes face-to-face with what his yearning, pining heart has been trying to tell him this whole time.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you-

fuck.

he loves you.

and he never told you.

epilogue — 9:30 am

sails closed, your boat floats with the current and the salty breeze reminds you that your adventure with the strawhats has come to a close. compared to the never-ending bustle of the crew, it’s almost too quiet being at sea alone. the silence lends itself to your overactive mind, working full time to unravel the tightness you feel in your chest.

you’re lost in thoughts of what could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve been — so much so that you don’t even hear the commotion behind you. it’s not until you hear zoro call your name that you hear the frantic swimming and you whirl around.

“zoro! what-”

“can you help me first?” he splutters.

you pull yourself together long enough to run to the side of your dinghy, pulling a sopping wet pirate on board. zoro leans back, trying to catch his breath as you rummage through your things.

“are you crazy? do you know how far we are from the sunny?” you throw a towel over him before reaching for another. you start drying off his hair, frantically fussing over him.

“you think that just because chopper gives you the clearance that you can push yourself over the limit-”

“y/n.”

“this is why you’re always on house arrest! you’re actually insane, you know that?”

“y/n.”

“i know you work out, but for goodness’ sake, zoro, you’re only human-”

“y/n.” zoro holds your wrists, forcing you to stop with a start.

in all your worrying, you didn’t realize that you’d been gravitating closer to zoro until you’re staring into his dark, obsidian eyes. there’s clarity in the way that he looks at you. his eyes are shining with a fierceness that you’ve only seen in his worst fights, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

because you know that this will change everything.

“hades and persephone.”

“huh?“ you blink at him. “did you hit your head-”

“ask me if i think hades loved persephone.”

you stare into zoro’s eyes, desperation reflecting back at you. there’s a hidden question there and you understand immediately.

quietly, you ask, "do you think hades loved persephone?”

“i do,” he whispers. “i think he loved her and he would've been stupid to let her go.”

your breath catches. zoro places a hand over yours, surprisingly warm as his fingers find their home between your own.

the heavens watch on as the two of you finally open your hearts and give way to the stuff that myths and legends yearn for — a connection that can only be described as fated, destined, purely and resplendently magical.

the gods smile at the two lovers who find themselves falling into each other, laughing as you confess, over and over again,

i love you.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #zoro fluff #one piece x reader #₊ ˚ ʚ writing ! ɞ #i know i just wrote a zoro fic BUT #this fic has been stuck in my drafts for too mf long #i didn't even proofread the epilogue bc fuck it #i just need her to go out into the world ok #i promise i will write non-zoro stuff soon #(maybe)#(jk i will)

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wildesqdreams · 9 months ago

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you and i

pairing - grayson hawthorne x fem!reader.

summary - grayson hawthorne has a hard time living for just himself. but the love that he shares with y/n will always make him feel at ease.

warnings - this is set before the first book, so none, only kissing and romance.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: this has been stuck in my drafts for a long time, and i finally finished it :) now, i will be getting to your requests.

the bed slightly dipped, as the boy climbed in besides her. he was trying to be very quiet since it was already night, and everything was peaceful.

but he failed, when he felt y/n stir and turn around, facing him, "where were you?" her voice was a little raspy, and grayson couldn't help but smile at her tired state.

the girl had stayed up, waiting for her boyfriend, but soon sleep took over her and she went to bed. her arm wrapped around his waist as she snuggled closer to him, missing his warmth.

"just had to do some papers," his hand went to her waist, pulling her closer to his chest.

"you should take a break."

"hm."

"you know i'm right."

silence.

grayson hawthorne played an important role in his family. he wasn't the eldest nor the youngest, but almost everything stood on his shoulders. he was raised differently than his brothers. one day, he was going to inherit the heir, so it was important for grayson to do everything right. not make a single mistake.

but how can a person be happy if he can't let himself slip? if he can't let himself breathe and let go.

that's why y/n didn't let him get lost in the hawthorne life. even though grayson has a strong character, the girl isn't afraid to speak her mind. that's what pulled the boy towards her. the wise heart. the honesty. and of course the love that she gave to others.

"just because others have made unrealistic expectations about you doesn't mean you should follow them. you are your own person, grayson. sometimes it's okay to take a break, even if some may get mad."

and just like that, grayson fell in love with her even more.

"you know," his hand went to her cheek, "sometimes i wonder how lucky i got with you," he stroked her skin, his touch making goosebumps appear on her arms.

"i think you should stop with that cheesy crap," the girl smiled and rolled on her back.

not even a second later his hand went to her hip and she felt light kisses be planted on her neck, "i can't help it if i have a beautiful girl with me," his lips moved along her jaw, stopping upbove hers, "but you are so much more then beautiful to me, y/n."

"i'm serious about what i said grayson," she looked into his eyes, her hand went to the back of his neck, "i love you and i don't want you to over stress yourself. i just want to help."

"believe me, you're helping me a lot, love," with that, his lips connected with hers, into a passionate kiss. and in this moment, grayson hawthorne was reminded again that no amount of money was as important as the girl beneath him.

with the love that they felt for each other, the couple would get through anything. just as long as they were together.

taglist: @noaboacoa @mochamvgz

#grayson hawthorne imagine #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne fluff #grayson hawthorne x y/n #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the hawthorne brothers #hawthorne brothers #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery grambs

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amaderika · 1 year ago

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PERVERT ! YORU

CW: mature themes, i tried doing nb reader, humping, masturbation,,,, awkward silence

A/N: so i was feeling more of yoru today instead of finishing the tatsuomi fic that has been in my drafts for months now 😀😀😁😁😁 ill finish it one day I SWEAR I WILL

yoru was your roommate. he was really quiet, never really talked to anyone. why? well, he was a pussy. he got absolutely no fucking bitches and he was a loner. come on, he knew no one would want to talk to him, let alone you. but, to his surprise, you were different. he thought this was too cliche. why were you so nice to him? no one's ever treated him this well before. you helped him decide where to place his stuff when he first moved in, made him some cookies, what the fuck? if someone told him you were an angel sent from heaven, he would believe them. you were godsent.

so. . it wasn't his fault, right? jerking off to the thought of you? it wasn't his fault you went to work wearing such a tight shirt! it couldn't be wrong... searching for porn videos with models who looked like you and humping your favorite pillow he knows you sleep with every night. it was okay though, because he loved you!

"fuck — i want you so bad right now. i'm so gross.." yoru moaned out as he dragged his cock up and down your pillow. it smelt exactly like you. too bad it wasn't actually you though.

was he actually going to cum on your pillow? shit, he had to stop this. he was going to far deep. but.. it felt so good.

a loud whimper left his lips as he moved his hips as much as he could. this was some crazy loser activity. he had no rhythm. he was getting weak. he felt like he was gonna pass out any time soon. just imagining you moaning out his name as he thrusted deep inside of you, feeling your warmth, taking in your scent. . there was no way he could stop now. those thoughts of him fucking you instead of this stupid pillow were interrupted when he heard his phone buzzing.

you were calling him.

it happened so suddenly. he scrambled to reach for his phone, immediately pressing accept. this lucky bastard. . he was able to hear your voice now? out of all times?

"yoru! i'm so glad you picked up. i just wanted to ask you what you wanted for dinner?" you said from the other line. you didn't know he was getting off to your sweet voice. he felt like he just hit the jackpot with this one.

it was pathetic how his cock throbbed when he heard you. while keeping up with his movements, he replies with a shaky voice.

"a-anything is fine with m-me as long as you're the one who makes it." he got rougher with his movements. hearing your voice just motivated him even more. please don't hang up — he was secretly hoping.

he was trying so hard to keep quiet. he wouldn't want to let you know he was such a disgusting pervert for you. he didn't want you to think lowly of him. you were the only person who genuinely cared about him and he wouldn't want you to think otherwise.

his cock was twitching, ready for release. the precum coming from it was leaking down to his fingers. just a few more seconds of your voice. .

he put the phone away from him as he came on the soft cushion. as you hung up, he pulled away from the mess he made, a trail of white liquid separating him from it. he was so embarrassed.

you came back home later than usual. you went to your room, noticing your favorite pillow was gone. well, you're too tired to think about that now. you decide to just go to sleep and search for it the next day. yoru got lucky this time.

#gokurakugai #gokurakugai x reader #yoru gokurakugai #yoru gokurakugai x reader #gokurakugai smut #yoru gokurakugai smut

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

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Screaming Whispers

➪the one where anakin is a musician and you’re his muse.

Warnings: rockstar anakin, modern au, smut, fluff, swearing to the max, pda, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praise kink, small corruption kink, size sink, his bands name is 'screaming whispers' which translates to 'sw' for short...like sw for star wars??? and i didn’t even plan that, it just happened, jealousy (brief), possessive anakin, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft dom anakin, choking kink

Word Count: 6.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The lights were blinding and his ears were ringing, but Anakin wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

He couldn’t see much past the flashlights on the phones and the stage lights that flickered in time with the drums his bandmate, Vinny, was currently pounding on. Live shows were always so much better than being stuck in a recording studio all day, because at least out on stage Anakin could let out all his pent up frustration and no one would bat an eye.

Actually, the way he got so into his performance and really gave it his all had his fans absolutely losing their minds as they, too, fell under the control of the music and the lights and the lyrics.

Anakin had only been in his band, Screaming Whispers, for just over a year now, but that was apparently enough time to get his and his friends’ names out there. One low budget album later and everyone knew about them, and really, Anakin had you to thank.

You are his high school sweetheart, and have been his biggest supporter since the day he told you he wanted to do something with music and maybe try to make it his career.

After writing countless drafts of songs that were all about you and his relationship with you, Anakin asked a couple of his friends who played instruments to rent out a recording studio to record one of the drafts he had actually finished.

Anakin was the lead singer and guitarist, while his friend, Vinny, played the drums, and his other friend, Theo, played bass.

It came out sounding decent and Anakin ended up editing it himself before uploading it to his burner account on Youtube, choosing some random photo he had taken of your hand holding his as the thumbnail.

Within a few days, the video only had about thirty views, and he knew most of them were from you.

When he had first let you listen to the song with a nervous expression gracing his features, he was worried when you didn’t say anything during the whole two minutes and forty six seconds it played for.

It ended and you turned to him, an unreadable look on your face before you were throwing yourself at him. He had never seen you so needy and desperate for him (unless he counted the very first time you and he slept together), and you spent the rest of the night loving on him because he had written you a song.

Your boyfriend of over three years at that point had actually made a whole song about you. How could you not tear his clothes off right then and there?

A few more weeks had passed when Anakin randomly decided to see how the video was doing. He was bored and you were at class, and he had grown tired of walking around your shared apartment on campus by himself.

When he clicked on the video, he was sure he had accidentally clicked the wrong one when he saw that it had gone from thirty views to ninety eight thousand views. It had over forty thousand likes and just under a thousand comments, all of which were praising him and the guys for how good the song is.

You once again jumped his bones a few hours later when he showed you it, muttering something about how you knew people would like the song once it got more exposure.

A month later, it had nearly a million views and Anakin was left to assume that the song had gone viral on a different platform that resulted in people searching the song up on Youtube. He didn’t go on TikTok or Instagram as he had no desire to, but was informed by Theo that the song actually did become super popular on TikTok and that was how so many people had found the video on his Youtube.

Since it had gotten way more attention than he had ever expected it to, Anakin quickly changed the channel name from ‘Manakin 246’ to ‘Screaming Whispers’. It was the first thing he thought of and both Vinny and Theo agreed to call themselves that if they were to ever record another song together.

Well, just a few days after that, the trio was contacted by a record label and a week later, they were signed onto Dynamic Studios as an official band.

It all happened so fast. Anakin was encouraged to finish and edit his previous drafts, and that was how he found himself recording a whole album with most of the songs being about you. Vinny and Theo helped out a lot with the songs, but insisted Anakin be credited as the lead songwriter, since the whole thing was his idea.

The album was called ‘Taking Back October’, and it had been streamed over three million times over various music sites. That, of course, resulted in a tour being booked, and that was where he is now.

A full year after uploading that song and three months of being on tour, Anakin could safely say he was meant to do this.

But the best part of it all? He had you watching him from your spot backstage, the biggest smile on your lips whenever he looked over at you from his place on the center of the stage.

From where you stood, he looked to be having the time of his life. He looked so in his element, so confident and comfortable, and not to mention unbelievably attractive.

You found yourself biting your lip as you hid away from the crowd. Part of you wondered how he did it, how he was so at home in front of thousands of strangers, but you supposed some people were just meant for the spotlight, and Anakin is definitely one of those people.

You definitely were not, as just the mere thought of stepping out onto the stage would send you into a full blown panic attack. And Anakin knew that, so despite him wanting to show you off to the world and to his fans - he couldn’t believe he actually has fans - he knew better than to shove you into the limelight like that.

For now, you were comfortable backstage, two lanyards around your neck that told everyone you were a guest on the tour, and that you were allowed backstage.

As you watched your boyfriend play and sing his heart out to his song Homecoming Queen, one of the stage crew members came waltzing up to you, a kind yet flirtatious smile on his lips. “Hi,” he said over the loud live music.

“Hi,” you called back, never taking your eyes off Anakin.

The guy looked down at your tour and backstage passes, a smirk growing on his lips. “You a friend of the bands?”

That made you glance over at him, and you were immediately uncomfortable at the way he was looking at you. “Something like that,” you answer, and it was true - Vinny and Theo had also gone to high school with you, but they were closer to Anakin, obviously - but the crew member didn’t seem too convinced. “I’m dating the lead singer, this song is actually about me.” You try again and watch as his eyes grow wide before he’s looking on stage and at your boyfriend.

He meets Anakin’s blue orbs, and right away you could see a hint of possessiveness in them, similar to the look he’d give other guys when they looked at you for a little too long back in high school.

The crew guy just backs away and leaves you alone, making you grin over at your boyfriend. Anakin just smirks before he is back to singing the chorus, all while never falling out of tune with the rest of the band.

Even though you were buzzing with excitement for what’s in store for you once he’s off the stage and you’d have him all to yourself, you couldn’t deny how attractive he looks on stage.

The show had been going on for just over an hour, and they would be wrapping up soon. Anakin’s skin was coated in a light layer of sweat, and the leather jacket he had been wearing when he had first walked out on stage had long since been discarded. His muscles flexed under the flashing lights as he effortlessly played his electric guitar and sang his heart out.

You were sure his throat was raw, but he didn’t stop, and the fans were loving it. You also couldn’t take your eyes off the way the muscles in his neck strained as he reached the higher notes of the song, and you had to press your thighs together to feel some sort of relief for the pressure that had been steadily building up.

After another ten minutes or so, the band wrapped up the performance and left the stage, leaving the fans still screaming in the stands. After Anakina picked up his jacket he tossed near the drum kit, he handed his guitar to the same stage crew member who had been talking to you, before he wrapped his free arm around your waist.

Your hands were barely touching either side of his face before he was kissing you deeply, the hand that held his jacket moving to grip your waist. Anakin pulled you closer to him, his adrenaline making his body ache for yours in hopes to find some sort of relief for the energy that surged through him.

“You were amazing out there,” you praised against his mouth, wanting nothing more than to poke your tongue out and run it up the side of his damp neck. “Like always.”

“Thank you, pretty girl,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours before dipping his head down to kiss your neck. His hands bunched up the thin fabric of your loose sundress, the flowery print making his want for you skyrocket. “You look hot.”

You laugh, glancing down at the simple dress that seemed to turn him on as if it was the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. “You look hot,” you say back and brush his slightly wet hair away from his forehead. You had to crane your neck a bit to be able to gaze up into his blue eyes, due to the sheer size difference between the two of you. The physical evidence of just how different you two are, even down to your height, had you pressing your thighs together again.

He wore dark clothes, most of which are adorned with chains, and his left arm was showing off a steadily growing sleeve of tattoos of random things - a lightsaber, a couple quotes, more than a few vulgar images, and most importantly, an outline of a heart with the initial of your first name inside it on his bicep. His wardrobe consisted of jeans, muscle tees, leather and jean jackets, and vintage - though sometimes graphic - shirts. He wore black boots or converse to tie off every outfit, completed with a couple of wristbands, rings and his signature necklace chain with your initials on the small charm.

You wore light colors, dresses and skirts that allowed you to show off the soft skin of your legs. Your body was bare of tattoos, with the exception of an ‘A’ on the side of your left wrist. Gold and silver jewelry were always on your wrist or around your neck, and you often wore flats or sneakers that went well with the rest of your look.

It was a big difference between the two of you, one that had been there since you were both seventeen, and it was what drew you into one another to begin with.

He looked intimidating, scary, even, but you found out that he had the sweetest heart, and he had given it to you.

“I am hot,” he grinned down at you, and the double meaning had you shaking your head as he stepped away from you and placed his jacket over your shoulders. He looked you up and down, biting down harshly on his bottom lip as his hands found their home on your waist again. The black leather contrasted against your light dress in such a sinful way, Anakin almost let out a groan at the sight. “Fuck, I can’t wait to take you back to the hotel after this.”

The band was playing two shows in D.C., so their manager went out of her way to book them a hotel for the night. It saved them from sleeping on the tour bus, which was surprisingly difficult to do, and Anakin could usually fall asleep anywhere.

He once fell asleep sitting down with his back pressed up against a washing machine in the laundry room at your apartment while he was waiting for the load to dry. He probably would’ve been sleeping for at least another half hour, had another resident not woken him up because he was sleeping against the only available washing machine.

But, for some reason, Anakin found that sleeping on a tour bus was next to impossible, even though he was given the only double bed because he had you with him.

So, in an attempt to get himself tired, he would spend a good hour with you in bed once he and the band got back on the bus after a show.

He could only imagine how happy Theo and Vinny are at the fact that they won’t have to listen to the two of you going at it for at least one of the two hundred and fifty nights they spent on tour.

“Yeah? You excited to spend a night with me in an actual room instead of a bus?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his shoulders when his wrapped around your waist and pulled your body right up against his.

“I’m so fucking excited,” he answered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as the stage crew walked around the two of you to begin packing up the equipment. He leaned down so his lips were brushing against your ear as he whispered, “We can be as loud as we want. I can’t wait to make you scream.”

You refrain from moaning in a public place, ignoring how dumb that sounded when you thought about how loud you got on a tour bus that had only a single, thin door that separated yours and Anakin’s room from the other guys.

This man made you crazy in all the best possible ways. “Well,” you say back, tugging him impossibly closer by the hem of his white tee shirt. “What are you waiting for? An encore?”

Anakin groaned quietly, cursing under his breath when he felt your hand slide up the heated skin of his torso. “Fuck no,” he muttered, taking your hand in his and guiding you towards the exit door that would lead the two of you out to the parking lot. “I think if everyone in that audience could see just how good you look right now, they wouldn’t blame me for not going back out there and taking you to bed.”

You smirked a bit as he pulled you onto the bus with him and towards your room to indulge in a makeout session before he would give you the real thing once you got to the hotel.

A short ten minute drive later, and Anakin was painfully aware of just how hard he’s gotten since your quick encounter backstage, followed by your intense making out that took place on the bus.

Once his manager had given him the key to his room, Anakin pulled you along with him as he made his way to the elevator, pushing the button for the twelfth floor when he was in it.

He leaned back against the wall as the numbers above the doors increased with every passing second. His lips were on yours in messy and noisy kisses, his hands sliding down to lift the bottom of your dress up as if you weren’t still in a public place, and were probably being recorded because every elevator seemed to have cameras nowadays.

Once it stopped at the twelfth floor, Anakin easily picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, his hand placed firmly on your back to prevent your dress from slipping up and exposing you to anyone who might enter the hall while he carried you to the room.

He inserted the keycard for room 1209 with his free hand, before tossing it onto the table in the entryway. Anakin’s hands grip your waist after he sets you down and he turns your body away from him, his fingers sliding up your back and pushing your hair to the side. He unclasps the gold necklace he had bought you a few nights ago from a cute store you and he stumbled upon while you were out sightseeing.

Anakin gently sets the chain down onto the table as well and places a few kisses to the back of your neck before he guides you forward and towards the king sized bed. “Look at that, baby,” he murmurs in your ear, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Since you had discarded his jacket back on the bus, his lips had free rein over the skin of your shoulders and neck as he sucked a few light marks onto it. “It’s bigger than our bed we have at home.”

Home. It seemed like so long ago, when in reality, Screaming Whispers had only been on tour for three months now. Anakin planned on using the money he would get from the tour and the shows to officially move in with you, in your own house, not a student apartment that was on the campus of his old college.

You were still a student there, but had opted to get all your assignments done before the tour so you could save yourself from having to give up the school year.

Humming, you lean back against his body. “We still need to get our bags from the bus,”

Anakin sucked on the skin of your jaw as his hands pulled at the thin fabric of your dress. “I’ll get our stuff later,” he promised, sliding his hands up the front of your body, making chills take over you as he gripped your chest. “You look so fucking pretty, baby.”

You hum again, closing your eyes when you feel one of his hands inch lower and lower until it disappears underneath your dress. “Just for you, Ani,” you whispered as he softly rubbed your clit through the thin lace of your panties.

He kissed your shoulder in appreciation as his hand slipped past the lace, his ring-clad middle finger dipping into your heat. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he nearly moaned, his free arm wrapping around your middle when he felt your body slump back against his. “So wet for me.”

“Ani,” you gasped quietly, moaning when he began to pump his finger in and out of you. The lace restricted him from going super hard, but he much rather preferred to work you up to that, anyway. “Fuck, it’s all for you. You looked so hot tonight.”

“You look hot, too, pretty girl,” he mumbled and removed his hand from your panties as he spun your body around so your chest was pressed to his. “I saw the way that crew guy was looking at you.”

You moaned quietly when his knee separated your legs, his thigh rubbing against your core through his jeans. “I said I was with you,” you weakly say, gripping his biceps tightly when his hands found your waist and began sliding your body up and down his thigh. “Said I’m yours.”

“You are mine,” he rasped, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before he gently shoved you away. The backs of your knees hit the end of the bed and you fall back onto it, your dress slipping up past your thighs and revealing the pastel pink lace that covered your core. “You’ve been mine since we were seventeen.”

You bite down harshly on your lip when he pulls the lace down your legs and drops it to the floor. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled when he ran his tongue up your folds, eagerly collecting your wetness.

Anakin glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing at the way you were refraining from being too loud. “No, Y/n,” he says sternly, bringing a hand up to slide his index and middle fingers into you. “We have this whole room to ourselves. I want you to be as loud as you can fucking get.”

Almost instantly a loud moan escapes you when he sucks on your clit, your back arching slightly when he began to fuck his fingers into you. Those skilled fingers, the same ones that had so effortlessly played the guitar in front of thousands of people just a half hour before. “Fuck, Ani. Fuck,” you whined.

Anakin smirked against you, curling his fingers once they are knuckle deep within you. The calloused tips brush against your walls and make you squeeze your eyes shut, finding it hard to believe that a year before all this, the skin of his fingers was smooth and gentle as he only played guitar in his free time before he made a career out of it.

Over a year of playing it non-stop had hardened his fingers and was a blessing in disguise, as they had never felt better when they were buried deep within you.

“God, it feels so good,” you whimpered as he traced the letters of his name with his tongue onto your clit. “So fucking good, Ani.”

He hummed, sending vibrations up your core and making your mind go into a frenzy. “Louder, baby,” he softly demanded, moving back up your body and hovering over you while his hand picks up the pace a bit. “I want this whole floor to complain about us tomorrow.”

You were so turned on, you couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about the sounds your core was making as his fingers plunged into it repeatedly. Not that Anakin ever let you feel embarrassed about it, seeing as he prided himself on how wet he makes you every time he goes out on stage.

“I know you want it, too,” he continues as he stared down at your fucked out expression. “Admit it.”

“I want it,” you managed to say as his thumb began rubbing circles on your clit in time with his fingers. The coolness from his ring contrasted against your searing heat, making the knot in your abdomen steadily form.

Anakin smirked down at you, leaning in to run his tongue along the skin under your ear. “Want what?”

“God,” you groaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace. “I want everyone on this floor to know who makes me feel so good, Anakin. I want them all to complain about how loud we are.”

Anakin was satisfied with your answer, “That’s my girl,” and he leaned down to begin sucking various marks onto the skin of your neck, the sounds you were emitting going straight to his dick that throbbed against his jeans. He didn’t think he could ever get tired of hearing all the sweet sounds you made just for him, and had been making for him since you were in high school.

“Anakin,” you moaned, lifting your hips in time with the movement of his hand. “Please, please, don’t stop.” Your lips brushed against his as you begged him to keep fucking you with his skilled fingers.

He hummed, kissing you deeply. “You gonna come for me?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt the way you clenched around his fingers every time your walls sucked him back in.

“Yes,” you nearly whispered, a crease forming in your brow as the coil in your stomach was a mere few seconds away from snapping. “Please.”

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he requested, his voice deep and sultry next to your ear. “I want it all over my hand.”

You were unable to deny him his wish as you came hard, your thighs shaking slightly and your mouth opening to let out a long and loud moan. Your head dipped back into the middle of the bed, your fingers twisting tightly in the soft comforter as he slowed down the thrusts of his hand until you were whimpering quietly.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, kissing you once before removing his fingers from inside you. He brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks the digits clean as he moves back down your body. Anakin licked a single strip up your slick core before standing up, smirking at the way your whole body shook at the action.

You weakly propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him pull his belt from his jean loops. He drops it to the floor, the sound of the buckle hitting the hardwood making your head swim with thoughts of what’s in store for you next.

“Take that pretty dress off, baby,” he said under his breath, reaching behind him to pull off the white tee and leaving it to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You quickly lifted yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed, your hands fumbling to tug off your dress. Anakin gives you a soft smirk at how obedient you always are for him as you tossed the dress off the side of the bed, kicking his jeans down his legs and leaving him in his tight boxer briefs.

You gave him a look that nearly had him falling to the floor as he moved forward and kneeled on the bed in front of you, making you crane your neck to be able to stare up at him. Your hands reach up and tug on the hair on the back of his neck, pulling his head down so his mouth could meet yours.

Moaning quietly against his lips, you arch your back when you feel his hands slide up to unclasp your matching pink bra. He pulled it from your body, leaving you completely bare to his lust filled eyes. He let out a low growl as his hands slid back down to your hips. “Lay back, pretty girl,”

You oblige quickly, laying further up on the bed and resting against the soft pillows. “Please, Anakin,” you whined as he rubbed his still covered dick against your heat. “Fuck me.”

Anakin groaned as he shoved his boxers down, gripping your thighs and tugging them up until they were draped over his. “I’ll fuck you, baby,” he promised, running his tip over your wetness and coating himself in it. “I’ll fuck you so good, make sure everyone knows who made you come.”

“Fuck, yes,” you gasped just as he thrusted himself into you without warning, making you reach out to grip his forearms. Still on his knees, Anakin began fucking into you at a brutal pace, pouring all his leftover energy from the show into the way his hips hit yours. “God, yes.”

Anakin gripped your waist tightly, his eyes drifting from the way your breasts bounced with each thrust to your face as it twisted up in pleasure. “Say my name,” he demanded, burying himself to the brim and pausing there.

Your body tensed up, your stomach muscles flexing as he kept your hips pressed to his. “Anakin,”

“Louder,” he ordered, repeating the action.

“Anakin!” You shouted, and it was followed by a string of moans as he resumed rocking his body against your own. “God, Anakin, you’re so deep. So deep in me.”

He grunted at your filthy words, the faint sound of the headboard hitting the wall making the whole scene look like it was straight out of a porno. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” he praised, reaching one hand up to pinch at your sensitive nipples. He felt you clench around him as he worked on hardening your peaks, his pace faltering just slightly at the tightness of your walls. “Always take me so well.”

“I love you, Anakin,” you whimpered, arching your back and pushing your chest up against his hand.

He groaned at your sweet words, placing his hands flat against the comforter on either side of your head from where he knelt above you. “I love you so much,” he said back, speeding up his pace. “I’ve loved you for four years now, baby.”

“Nearly five,” you reminded him with a cry of pleasure. “We’ve been together for almost five years, Ani.”

“I know, princess,” he murmurs, leaning further down to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, a big contrast to the way his lower body was currently destroying yours. “How could I ever forget about the day you became mine?”

“Best day of my life,” you mumbled when he leaned back again, digging his knees into the bed as he all but railed into you. “Fuck, you feel so good, Anakin.”

“You’re so tight,” he responded, making your stomach twist with a need to please him forever. You were vaguely aware of the loud smacking of the headboard now, and the way the picture that hung above the bed was tapping with each thrust of his hips. It only fueled your desire for him as your hands gripped the comforter once again.

Your previous orgasm rendered you a bit more sensitive than normal, so you weren’t all that surprised to feel that knot begin to tighten once more. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,”

“Yeah? You’re going to come all over me again?” He mocked slightly, only making your head swim with dizziness at how dirty the whole event is. “I want it. Come all over me, pretty girl, nice and messy.”

Your eyes rolled back just a bit when he reached one hand up to press his fingers against the base of your neck. A strangled moan escaped you as you clenched helplessly around him.

You didn’t think you would ever get used to how he was in bed, versus how he was out of it. He was sweet, kind and caring with you outside the bedroom, but inside it he was rough, loud and determined to get you off in any way he possibly could. The difference was almost too much to handle.

A few more deep thrusts later and your core was flooding around him, noisily sucking him in deeper and alerting him of your second orgasm. “That’s it, baby,” he praised, watching as his dick became even more coated in your wetness. It spurred him to speed up the pace so he could reach his own release. “Good fucking girl.”

“Anakin,” you struggled to say as your body shook with overstimulation. “Ani, come, baby, please.”

It wasn’t the first time he had you begging him to come in you, but it still had his head going fuzzy for a second or two, as well as made him twitch inside you. “You want it?” He asked through a clenched jaw, his neck muscles straining as he tried to hold off for a little bit longer.

“Yes,” you answered, powerless against his sharp thrusts as you took each one. “I want it so bad.”

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his pace slowing down as his own release flooded through him. With a couple slow thrusts into your greedy core, he fucked his seed deep within you.

He falls onto the bed next to you a few seconds later, his chest heaving and a light layer of sweat adorning his skin, mirroring the way he looked on stage an hour or so prior to this.

Anakin was a lot more drained now than he was before, and he knew that if he were to stay in bed for much longer he would probably pass out with you wrapped in his arms.

He lifted himself up and pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, murmuring an “I’ll be right back,” against it before he dressed himself in his shirt and jeans, grabbing the keycard on his way out to retrieve both yours and his bags from the bus.

The next day, after spending most of the morning wrapped up in the sheets together, you and Anakin finally decided to get up.

Kind of.

He was currently propped against the headboard, eating a piece of toast with you on his lap. His acoustic guitar he brought with him was placed in your lap as you softly ran your fingers against the strings, leaning back against his bare chest. You were nowhere near as talented as he is with the instrument, and you knew it would sound awful if you were to try and play it without his guidance.

“Mm,” he hummed when you plucked one of the strings at his request, tossing the crust of the toast onto the plate that was next to him on the bed. He would usually be more careful so there wouldn’t be any crumbs in the sheets, but he was checking out of the hotel before tonight’s show, so he decided to leave it to the cleaning staff as he knew they would be washing the sheets anyway. “That’s the B string, baby, not the D string.”

“And I’m supposed to know that…how?” You asked as he wrapped his arms around your middle.

“Well, I’ve only been playing guitar for the entire length of our relationship,” he teased as he placed his right hand over yours. He guided your thumb to one of the middle strings and gently brushed it against it. Of course, it sounded a lot better because he was the one who controlled how much pressure and the pace of your thumb against the string. “That’s the D string.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at the cockiness in his voice as you strummed along the string again, this time sounding a bit better than before.

“There you go,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as a reward. “That was good.”

You turn your head to give him a small glare. “You’ve never been a good liar,” you mutter. “Especially when it comes to lying to me, it’s why you could never get away with cheating.”

Anakin scoffed, “I would never,”

You shake your head with a dumb grin on your lips as he guides your fingers to strum the tune he had been going over in his head for the past few days. You let him take full control over the way he moved your fingers, noting the soft humming of an unfamiliar song leaving the back of his throat. “New song, Ani?”

He shrugged from his spot behind you, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, your tank top doing very little to cover your skin from him. “Maybe,” he answers as he begins to kiss up your neck, not even needing to look down at the strings to be able to play them perfectly.

It made you a bit lightheaded, how hot and talented he truly is. “What’s it going to be about?” You ask, eyes glued to the way he effortlessly helped you play the guitar while also holding a conversation with you. His talent always surprised you, despite knowing early on how skilled he is with the instrument.

“You, obviously,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. “What else would I write a song about?”

“You’re too much,” you say and he laughs quietly, agreeing with you as he goes back to mumbling potential lyrics in your ear.

A few hours go by and it’s nearing the time for Anakin and the band to head onto stage. He smoothes out his graphic tee and smirks at the way you cowered behind the large speaker, eyeing him with your lip caught between your teeth.

“God, Ani, you look good,”

“Me?” He asked and reached his hand out to you, pulling you into his arms once you took it. He played with the end of your pink and white skirt, eye fucking you a mere few minutes before he had to go perform in front of thousands of people. “I bet Vin and Theo are so jealous that it was me who got to take you to bed last night, in an actual room.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders, gazing up at him. “I bet all your fans are jealous that it’s going to be me who gets you all to herself after the show,”

Anakin hummed lowly, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “I’d be jealous, too, if the hottest girl took me home,” he rasped. “Or in our case, took me back to that stupid bus.”

You laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. Since you had applied a cute pink lip to go with your skirt, a stain was left on his skin when you pulled away. “Oh, sorry,” you say and lift your hand up, but pause when his fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Don’t you dare try to wipe that off,” he ordered with a smirk. “I think it completes my look.”

And it really did. A black snapback was placed backwards on his head, a vintage shirt covered his chest and exposed his sleeve of tattoos, dark jeans with a few chains connected to the belt loops hugged his legs, and black boots gave him the daunting appearance of someone who was born to be on stage.

The pink lipstick mark only added to the whole thing.

“Okay,” you swallow harshly, stepping away once Vinny handed him his guitar. “Have a good show.”

“I love you,” he called out as he placed the strap over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he made his grand entrance, the crowd seemed even louder than normal, and you could only hope at least some of them were able to see your mark on his cheek as you hid behind the speaker and watched your boyfriend get lost in his element.

Series based off this fic

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #star wars #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #hayden christensen #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen imagine #screaming whispers #screaming whispers au

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starrbright · 11 months ago

Text

Carnality in Adoration

“I want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins." The Vegetarian, Han Kang

Everything he feels seeping in. Surfacing from the depths of the beginning. It's heavy. Deeper than he thought he could have carried in such a short time. It's terrifying. He welcomes it freely.

Miya Osamu x Reader

Illustrations: Stephan Sinding, Adoration Max Švabinský

I've yet to read 'the vegetarian', but I am aware that the novel is quite horrific as others have said. And using the passage would be out of context, but I couldn't help it, when I saw that words while having this piece in my drafts, I knew i just had to do it.

Nearing 6k words. characters are in their late twenties. established relationship. fluff. smut.

all my y/n are fat and of color.

september 24, 2023, I began this and had to shelf it. And now December 19, I'm finally fucking done😭 spent a little lot of time in a coffee shop today just so to finish this and here it fucking is😭 had three black coffees and am so worn out and shaking. I'm so tired, you guys TT. Been so busy nonstop and I just had to fucking suck it up and finish this one, I hope you like it. A little treat for the holidays. Enjoy and take care!! 💐💌

@iwaberry, @mood-romantica, & @shaisuki my lovelies💘

God. Gods. Angels. Saints. To Osamu, he's unsure if he believes in them. Maybe he does. Maybe.

He's not religious, you've found him to be. But these days, he's making you question so.

Few days of being truly together. Blissful kisses. Sex here and there. He cares for you truly, you know and feel this. He feels for you. You never doubted him the very first moment he made himself known in your life.

From the ardor in his eyes that you saw by how entranced he was looking at you the first time you felt he felt for you. From how firmly but tenderly he always hold your hand to fall his lips on your knuckles before anything else. From the way his eyes closes as he does so, or even more so how he hold his gaze to you when he does it.

From how tired he is at the end of his work, he still makes you a fresh batch of your favorites before you see each other at the end of the day or night. From how you can see the light in his gray eyes whenever you happily eat his food.

You never doubted him, not even when he has yet to say those three delcaring words. He has already uttered such loving words to reflect it. Always. You never doubted him.

And how could you ever ever doubt him--as he has his big hand on your neck, his fingers grasping up until on your plump cheek to take your lips for his own. Drinking the wetness of your mouth to your sounds as he moves his lips and tongue against your own in a way that always has your chest heaving while he doesn't seem to be affected at all as he only hums deeply as calmy--a stark contrast to your soft whimpers, despite the hardness of his erection on your behind.

His big and strong hand holds the round of your stomach against the fabric of your top, him having you from behind is always a delight to him; all the fat and softness of what you have melts onto him, a welcome to the edges he has. A home he's found that he always enclosed with open arms.

A deep breath you let out from your mouth when he finally pulls away, mouths dripping with drools. Osamu takes his breath back by burying his face on your neck, nose and wet lips pressed so against on you, his air so hot on your skin. Hearts thundering against one another.

Finding your voice, before it further unfolds to resulting taking too much time. "We should go now." You say, a little breathy. It fell nothing to his ears.

What didn't fall nothing to your ears is a deep hum that contracted in his throat as his hand squeezed some of your fat on your belly. "Samu." You breathe. Both of you knowing what that all means. But it's always nothing to him. Yet you always still try. A game between you two. Almost.

His mouth begins to move, lips dragging greedily on your skin, the sweetness of what you routinely used melts in his palate. It fuels his need to taste you more, the very taste of you, always.

A hand of his on your neck goes wrapping around your throat firmly, fingers pressing down that your breath hitched as his mouth slides down to your shoulder. Having worn an off-shoulder top gave him access to all what he's doing right now. And you know you wouldn't be wearing clothes that shows skin as whenever this happens, you're always marked. He can't help it. He doesn't want to. To see all what he leaves on you always pleases him. A reminder you're his.

Osamu bites down on the supple flesh all over, wanting to feel the warmth and goodness of your fat in his mouth, inhaling and swallowing each bite, grunts and groans leaving him. He squeezes your throat and breast at the same time, resulting a strained whimper from you, the tightness of his hold on your throat contracts in you, heavy pain of pleasure there to going down your cunt.

"Stay still." He murmurs deeply in between the ministrations of his mouth on you as he squeezed your throat and breast again. It isn't a question nor plea. A command.

It has your cunt fluttering the same of your heart.

Pants of breath, slowly, you calmed your slight squirming against behind him, your right hand that was on his nape never leaves there holding onto him as lifeline. His arm around you that still holds your breast tightly began to squeeze you to him. His cock that was hardened the moment his lips met yours, tight against his pants, pressing on your ass twitching. Your short and tight skirt riding up higher, showing your cheeks, prettily hugged in your white stockings and black panties. "What you do to me." His dripping mouth now on your ear, low and breathy resonates through you, your body shuddering with a whimper once more. "Every. damn. time." He groans each hard hump he made on your ass-friction against his clothed cock and your thinly covered ass, so hot and strained.

His hand stays restraining your throat as the other slowly comes down between your thighs, squeezing you there before slipping his hand in and cupped your mound. Your body flinching slightly with a soft gasp leaving you. His face heavy on your cheek, minty breath reaching your nose and mouth. "Open your legs." A moan escapes you as he speaks, his demands always has you uttering sounds, whether it's the futile denial or meek obedience. At times like this, it's always both.

Your skirt rides up even higher as you opened your legs more, muscles in your limbs beginning to twitch as his palm stays cupping you. Two of his fingers pressing hardly on your cunt against your stockings and panty as he rubs you, wiggling them to squish in your folds, your clit being found and assaulted then. Your wetness spreading and seeps through. "Samu." You moan, your head lazily leaning on him, eyes turning heavy, nails lightly digging on the skin of his nape.

"Need me?" He asks as his tongue slides to the corner of your mouth, dragging that damn muscle to your cheek until to your ear, his saliva painting your skin--already knowing your answer. His digits being drenched by your slick the more he rubs your cunt. He just can't get enough of you. He never could.

"We need to go." It just pleases him more whenever you deny him, well, at least you try to.

And it always fails. ''Wrong answer." But it's the right one for him to keep going. It always is. It just makes his endeavors more pleasurable than it already is.

Just how could you doubt him when he now kneels behind you, his face etched on the back of your thighs, fingers gripping them tightly between your inner thighs. Nuzzling on your fat flesh all over. His eyes drinking in the above him, ass cheeks tight on your black panties against your stockings. He'd tear your stockings if he could and he could, easily so by just his teeth but he doesn't want to piss you off (he does, as always) he just knows you love the outfit you're wearing and he can't have his beloved sad at him. So he makes do with trailing soft kisses on you, his drool leaving of its little marks. Inching up his face by nuzzling on you again. Up, up, up until it reached your ass, nuzzling his face once more.

You have no choice but to stand the there and let him. His lips you feel, his hot breath, the littlest drop of his drools seeping in the thin material. Your hand finding its way to his hair, lightly gripping it as his own two grips your cheeks, spreading them apart. A gasp left you, "Samu-" Your cunt was suddenly licked, hard, tongue wide flat and dragged it slow until to the slit of your ass. Your slick thick on his tongue and he swallows with a guttural grunt, savoring what he can have for now. "How do you expect me to stop when you're fucking dripping."

His damn head buried beneath your ass, panties and stockings just tightly hang low under his chin—as he devoured your cunt from behind, still standing in your heels, no less.

Not a single drop was wasted. Limbs trembling and all as he still held a tight grip on you while he eases your high. His hands so gentle then as he put back on your clothes below you.

Suffice to say, your man was satisfied enough to let both yourselves go out already. And he was more than satisfied. Smug as hell as you sit besides each other along with his parents for a dinner, with his twin, no less—that you have no doubt the said bastard had a feeling something happened between you two before going to their family home. Atsumu can see it in Osamu's eyes after all, something like this is not new.

The lingering taste of your cunt still there in his mouth.

He's a man of unquenchable thirst.

And of selfishness.

You never miss the glint of immediate displeasure in his eyes when someone takes notice of you long enough for him to catch them. And certainly not when his arm secures around you more, and how could anyone miss the moment of him holding your face up to land a firm and long kiss on your mouth.

He's a man.

What can he do when someone is staring at you like he isn't there? And he does it proudly if not even pissed off. He just can't help it, really, even to your friends or closest ones. Seeing them near you, when he's with you, before you could free yourself from his grasp to greet them, his fingers twitch, his hold suddenly tightening—knowing you always greet them with a hug or a kiss on the cheek. It's nothing, but he can't help it.

And he couldn't help but be filled with that selfishness when you told him such a thing; that you'll visit your friend to another country, by yourself, no less. Even if it's only for a day. It filled him with dread.

But still, he allowed you, reluctantly so. You know he didn't want you to go, so you didn't. You didn't want to ruin your short trip while thinking of your man with the state you're both in.

Arguments, it rarely happens. That one wouldn't even count as one. A lesser misunderstanding. Jealousy. That much you already know of Osamu anyway. There's times when you almost feel giddy at his blatant displays of jealousy, but suppose the opposite to it is normal as well--just like right now.

As you sit alone on the floor of your apartment, while you paint, the night young--your heart heavy. And it skipped when you heard the door opened, those familiar heavy footsteps coming close.

As much as you wanted comfort, you weren't ready to see your man again. However, he is. As surprised as he was you were in your home....you didn't go—only then he realized, he messed up.

Osamu sighs as he walks in the living room, seeing your form there, quiet and unmoving but just the strokes of your paint brush, his steps grew light with each of it he takes as his heart sinks more.

There, he sits behind you, his arms immediately but gently as ever wraps around your stomach, hearing the soft hitching of your breath as he enclosed himself behind you, falling his face on your neck.

Your hand stops moving along the canvas, the paint brush just softly dangling between your fingers as you blankly stare at the colorful frame. His weight heavy on you as he holds you tight, yet your heart begins to unburden itself. You breathe, easing yourself as you feel the blues let go from you by his comfort. Gently laying your left hand on his arm and he let out a deep breath, holding you even tighter but so at ease. His breathing hot on your skin, the beating of his heart calm but deep and strong against your back. Silence remains as the long seconds passes by.

Osamu can be a man of words, he's not afraid nor hesitant to say what he thinks or what he truly means, but in this moment, he knows there's nothing needed to be said more than—"I'm sorry." His voice in a deep murmur.

Your head tuts aside gently, the blankness of your gaze melting soft as your hand on his arm then begins to merely caress him there. "I know." Is what you only say.

Osamu breathes out a hum deeply as he nuzzles his face on your neck, inching himself up to your chin to the side of your face, inhaling you. It's only been a mere day and yet he misses you so much. His heart begins to race despite the calmness of the moment, it never failed to do so whenever he holds you, but maybe an exception tonight as knowing his mistake was gracefully forgiven. Nevertheless, it took him a few more push for him to say his remaining gnawing thoughts. Fingers pressing on your stomach, his mouth beginning to caress your cheek. "Thank you for not going. And I'm sorry because of it." He tells softly in between in the trailing of his lips on you.

Your lips could almost smile but it didn't as they remain as calm, nonetheless, your eyes melt more and more to its fondness for him. Again, "I know." Is what you only say. Gently, your head falls to his own as he then stops kissing you to lean and nuzzle his head onto your own. Your caressing hand on him never stops, eyes closed and hearts near to beating the same way as silence made itself known again.

All that burdens you both fades into something more to be easily carried despite its heaviness.

Osamu speaks then, as softly, "Can you turn around?"

You did so, and now you face each other close while still sitting on the floor. His hands finding your own as he never breaks gaze with you, drinking you in at last once again. How he missed you, the amount of time to him is nonexistent.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

How deep his eyes for you always threaten you to look away, but you never do; seeing what you think you are, the parts of you that gnaws you--afraid of you to see that in his very eyes. And he does. He has before. And always will. Before you could turn your eyes away from him, you see the adoration in them, just as the first time you saw them in him, for you.

"I am now." You answer, your voice just as soft.

"When will you go again?" He asks once more.

Your gazes remains held, you couldn't bear to look away. "Maybe soon." You answer simply and he nods. Before he let go of your one hand, trailing it up to your neck so as to pull you closer for him to press a kiss on your forehead.

"Ya better bring home lots of souvenirs," he remarks, his face still close to you. You only laugh so breathlessly against his cheek and he smiles, his cheek rising against your mouth, few tears falling from your eyes and rolls down on him. His smile doesn't falter nonetheless. Happy you were both. "I missed you."

"'ve missed ya, too." He spoke clearly, before he pulls away lightly to take a look at you again. You gaze at each other once more, letting go of your held hands so as for him to cradle your face in his hands. His thumbs gently wiping your tears away.

He'll make it up to you. He doesn't need to say it because he will.

Your eyes stays as glazed while his own as calm and of that lazy look. The roughness of his hands sculpts against your tears stained chubby cheeks.

He doesn't know who to thank for such a blessing. To have a beloved gaze upon you like the way you give your eyes to him. But there you are anyways. So he figures, it's only you to thank for.

"Beautiful." Osamu spoke. It took a lot from you to not tear off your face from his grasp, let alone his boring gaze.

"Don't." You try. Of course, yet again, he didn't listen.

"Lovely." As a thumb of his softly glides on your lips.

"Stop."

"Pretty."

He strips you off with only his eyes, washing your doubts you didn't even know that was there. "Osamu."

"Mine." He murmurs as his thumb slides in your mouth, dragging it down gently on your teeth up front open, reaching until it presses on your tongue. Your mouth agape by the finger, your gaze close to turning little, your breath hitching. "Pretty." He breathes, his head tilting as his eyes never parts from you—sliding his thumb even further, "Like this." The smallest of whimper escaping you and you saw how his jaw clenched at that, a rough breathing sound following from his throat.

The view before him is new. Good. Saliva begins to gather more in your mouth, he feels and sees. He'd want to see you like that more often, satisfying to his eyes, a good way to keep his fingers warm as well. He keeps his finger pressing there, only staring at you, staring at how your drool pools more in your cavern, little drops of it escaping from your lips, rolling down to your chin.

Yeah, he'll really want to see and have you more the way he is doing right now.

And you can't deny the goodness of the slow moment you both are having. How you let yourself be gazed upon in such a way.

While Osamu's heart begins to waver of that steady rhythm the longer he made you remain in the state you're in. Everything he feels seeping in. Surfacing from the depths of the beginning of you both. It's heavy. Deeper than he thought he could have carried in such a short time.

It's terrifying. He welcomes it freely.

Slowly, he retracts his thumb, a thin line of saliva following and a sheet of it covers his finger as he lays it on just your chin--before he kisses you.

Slow and gentle. His first kiss of the day he takes, the first kiss you share after you both made up, the first kiss you share with the revelation found in him--unbeknownst to you. Osamu kisses you as if it was his last to be. He gives and holds his kiss deeply, lasting. A way to be heard of his specifically unspoken words for now.

However, you remain to be blissfully unaware of it; seeing this of nothing new as it's normal for you for him to be like that--and he knows. So it wouldn't be too long for him change that.

As you pull away, a little breathless, blinking the fluster away in your eyes. "I should fix this up and prepare for dinner." You said. Reluctantly but he doesn't let you feel it, he lets you free yourself from his arms as you stand up. Osamu keeps his eyes on you gather the art materials you've used.

As much as he would always praise what you create, as much as he'd always think it to be beautiful of whatever you make--the art is already before his eyes, not on the frame.

He does what he does whenever he takes you in, how an admirer would be in art gallery. Quiet. Intent. Deep.

Flesh rippling with every little move you make. Your round upper body snuggled well by your little top, breasts hanging free against the fabric, as well as showing a little of the fat of your tummy. Your bloomers too short and tight on you. A wonder for him. Your ever wide thighs. Dent and marks painted on your skin. Along that, he sees what his mouth and fingers left on you from before a few days. Even more beautiful with what he marks on you. He'll always prefer you to be marked by him.

"If you're done staring at me." Your voice breaks him out of his trance.

"I won't ever be." He replies simply.

A little laugh you echo at that while you walk back to him, now standing in front of him as he remains sitting there with his legs crossed on the floor.

You above him is divine to be. Maybe he's religious as he wonders so. At least when he gazes up at you while you look down upon him. A goddess of his.

Both of your hands comes to one another on your bodies; yours on his hair and face, while his on your legs. You'd be lying to yourself if you say you didn't like it when he's beneath you. At times like this, is where you question where he lies on higher beliefs--because the way he offers his eyes to you.....could be described as when one worships their divine being.

Osamu sees the little rose of your chest with your mouth parting ever so slightly, the gentle wonder in your eyes. He can't get enough of it.

Finding your voice, "What do you wanna have for dinner?" You asked, gently petting his hair and caressed his cheek.

A deep but short breath he took as he welcomes your doting on him. His fingers firmly caressing on your legs, slowly working their way up. "You know the answer to that." You wonder why you still asked.

You didn't roll your eyes instead you narrowed them, "I'm serious." It was hard to be as his hands crept up higher, reaching to your thighs, tingling sensations coming through.

He almost smiled. "So am I."

"You're so annoying." You sighed, raking your fingers through his hair. Such happiness in the little moment you both have.

Such happiness.

Maybe it was time.

"Osamu—"

"I love you."

Your voices met one another, his just with more.......conviction. You faltered. He didn't. He doesn't. He remains steeled just of his resolve.

The soft disbelief on you. You didn't know if you ever hoped for him to say it sooner, there wasn't anything bad if he didn't say it for the mean time either, but--the joy that blooms in you couldn't be brighter. Such simple words, how heavy it tolls on you.

Your hands gently cupped his face, still as silent you were, the words you were about to say now lost. Osamu nestles his head on your palms, never breaking gaze. He feeds off the awe you uncontrollably portray. He'll do anything so as to have you keep doing that only for him. The way your nose takes a breath, going from your mouth with your chest following as it rise, your voice remaining unfound. It's addicting to see those little things. and it's freeing to say those words, so he says it again. "I love you."

Heavily dazed but ever awake, your eyes never dare to blink, tears starting to sting, the walls of your throat threatening to crumble.

Osamu feels every little twitch. Feels it all. He wants more. He stays nestling his head on your palms, keeping his smile at bay with his unfazed look. "I love you." His voice now bright.

An ask to be answered.

Your tears fell, blinking slowly as you broke from your trance with a broken smile and breathless laughter. You cradle his face so lovingly as he held you the same. His arms tightly hugging your legs, hands gripping your thighs. Loved. And there your answer for him. with little more breaths, carrying the weight of all what you feel--"I love you." Voice almost to nothing from how breathless it was, nevertheless it graces his ears, finally letting his smile move on his lips.

"Again." It's sweet. Too sweet how you ever so slowly lit up as he said that.

"I love you." He can't stop himself from smiling more as you repeat them, his cheeks growing in your palms. Too rare. A smile of his that makes your heart hurt every time. Lips etched up lazily, little of his teeth showing.

"Again."

"I love you."

At the same time again.

You didn't think that his smile couldn't get bigger but it did. It's brighter than you ever seen before from him.

While he stays high in your gaze.

"I love you."

He now kneels, never tearing off his hold on you nor of his eyes. Osamu finds that there is glory in kneeling. And if there's anything Osamu loves more than food, it's winning. So he reigns in victory as he kneels before you.

So you let him have what he wants—his dinner.

Letting go of his face, he gently dives down on your legs, falling his lips there all over. "I love you," he murmurs with each breath he takes on your skin. "I love you." His hands squeezes your thighs repeatedly while your keeps caressing his hair. "I love you." His eyes began to flutter heavily, never stopping of working his mouth on you, dizzying himself by you. "I love you." He groans, his voice dragging deeply as he drags his face all over your flesh.

You could only look down at him as he tranced himself, look at him so fondly as he indulges himself, seeing him deeply enjoying of what he does—you let yourself feel all what you've been feeling since the moment he held you. Heat brewing in your belly, melting down into your cunt, slicking through your folds, soaking a little sticky patch in your panties.

It wouldn't be too long for him to feast upon it.

And he knows. Osamu already knew your body was working even before he began, his meal prepared for him. "Fuck, I love you." In a loud groan, he breathes as he pressed his face on your thigh again, firmly rubbing his cheeks there. His hands holding onto the back of your thighs goes up ever slowly to your ass--a deep hitch of breath you inhale. He slides in through your shorts and panties, fingers strongly massaging your ass cheeks, while he keeps making a mess down on you.

"Fuckin' love yer thighs so much," he swore, his voice gone rougher from his never ending groans that he moans. Although that much has been known between you both he never gets used to it, nor do you. Not when he relishes his teeth on your fat with each bite. It's almost no different from a beast breaking its fangs through its prey to feed.

His sheer thirst he strongly satiate has your cunt aching so much, but still, you let him enjoy more a little longer. Keeping in your plea with your breathy sounds of elation. And despite how deep Osamu is in indulging himself, he knows your needs, though that's in the back of his mind for now--eyes dead set on the abundant offering for him. The last feast he'll have for later.

A mistake of thought you had.

For now, he continues to worship your thighs. Thick trails of his saliva from strings to drops dribbling down. No territory left unexplored as he takes the back of your limbs as well. Your hands in his hair keeps on shaking, your lower body twitching, trying not to flinch away from him.

Even then, he only continues to repeat what he's been doing. Nuzzling and rubbing his face all over so harshly, inhaling roughly while he licks his tongue with each move. His groping hands on your ass not stopping as well. He's too much all at once. Standing again, no less.

If not for Osamu's strength, you would have been long lying on the floor. Still, he continues for more, your wordless whines for him to stop unheard, muted by his own hungry sounds.

By now you're a leaking mess, not of just your pussy completely soaked, but your limbs covered with sheet of sweat along with his drool everywhere. Even his face you see and feel that it's wet, of course, he couldn't care less. The flesh of your ass sore, thighs and legs all marked up, muscles already hurting.

In the short time of you and him being together, he was never this....eager, much more eager, that is. And he's only beginning. No mistake this time, you could already tell that when he actually begin you'll lose your damn mind--and you're about to.

As when you managed to pry off his face away from your thighs, your palms on his cheek again, looking at him. His hair so disheveled, pupils blown yet his eyes more droopy than usual, while he breathes so deeply and rough from his mouth, all over his face drips of his drool, his sweat and your own.

"My darling." You utter so breathily, a thumb of yours gently gliding on his chin to his lips, smearing the wetness on him there even more. So much for calming him down. If anything, he's getting worse. He's a babbling mess and when he's like that, there's no fight against it.

"Can I eat ya, angel?" He says as he keeps licking your thumb. The man has you gulping and breathing in the same state of his hunger with your awe to his needs. His want. "Please, sweetheart--need to have yer pussy s'bad. Can I, angel?" His eyes darted from your own to your cunt so close to his face.

Your breath and spit caught in your throat--you nod once. "Yeah, baby?" Your damn poor heart so tired from its jumping because of him.

He's already back at it. Kissing your thighs again before slowly pulling down your shorts--leaving you only in your panties, showing how damp your center is. "Fuck." He breathes in a rough groan as he beholds your mess.

"Only for me--"

"Always." Your voice managed to murmur amidst.

His gaze shooting up to you, as deeply. "I love you." He declared once again before he finally goes to his feast.

Never having yourself prepared for it.

Osamu's face buried up against your cunt, inhaling you so deep from his nose to his mouth, little slicks of your arousal he begins to taste, his soaked mouth wetting you more, eyes rolling back to his head. With your fingers immediately grasping on his hair, tightly pulling on it with a loud gasp flying out of you. Ever sensitive you are, and Osamu already so familiar with your body. Feeling how your clit twitches so slightly like a bunny's tail as his lips confines your cunt, his tongue stroking you so slowly, gathering his spit and your juices—before he gulps it eagerly deep.

"You've no idea how good you are for me." He says once he pulls away from you. He's a fucking dog. Heaving for breaths, it'd be no different if his mouth was foaming.

You have no response from that but could only look at him, already overwhelmed from his little start and yet wanting so much more. It goes by unsaid.

Samu's one hand goes to your panty, grasping around in the center and pulled the cloth up tightly, the line slitting through your folds and shows your hair painted of your wetness there. His teeth finding his lip as he does so, your clit and hole fluttering from the small but impactful tease. "Samu..." You whined, almost.

Not minding it, not caring from how you're gripping his hair, "So fucking pretty." He murmurs as he toys with your damn cunt by pulling on your panty continously. You'd gape at him for how almost ridiculous what he was doing if not of you finding it so good to see, let alone feel.

Your calls of his name just slipping out of his ears, continuing what he does. "Look at you." Barely a whisper from him as he let go of your panty, now laying his thumb on your slit to your clit, rubbing it against the wet fabric. You hissed a breath, bearing his not so tease, knowing how he can be just so entranced with what he does. "Fuck." He curses again while he keeps the pad of his digit rubbing hard on your cunt, before eyeing at the string of your slick from your mound to his thumb as he slowly stops.

Finally, your body eases in his hold, already worn out. "Shit--shit." You whisper to yourself, from your weakened state and knowing what was to come next.

You liked him below you as he praises you, yes, but you couldn't deny that were was so much struggle with his found liking for the specific position; having to bear the tiredness off yourself along with so much pleasure to it. Especially by how he was far into it. Your little hole parted open by two of his fingers as his tongue glides in halfway through your walls, while his lips suckles on your folds sloppily.

Osamu finds himself swimming in the ocean without a care for time, nor of anything, not even of your sounds of ache to come to finally be done, let alone how much you've been trembling in his hold. There's just so much to revel in his love for you through his worship. Such a thing should never be rushed just for the sake of satisfaction. He intends to grasp and freeze this bliss, for you to always have him engraved in the very depths of your being.

With hooded eyes, he looks up at you and sees how much of a mess you are. Still, he only remains the same of his slow but hard pace, only making the knot of your release just boiling as he keeps his tight hold on you, not even letting you move against nor away from him. But, seeing your continously flowing tears and hearing your endless whines, is very much of a reward for him anew. So, "Grind on me."

And that was all that it fucking took for you to finally break. Lost in your tiredness and ache for relief; you do what he said--grind on his damn mouth. Letting yourself use him so desperately, the way he wants you to. Your fingers have never let go of his hair from the start, pulling on it so much repeatedly while you move your hips and have your cunt drag hard on him.

He flows against your rapid waves easily, at last meeting your desperation by his unwavering conviction. No uncharted waters could prevent him from taking up eternity with you.

With enough time, from all he's doing and yours, you finally found yourself dropping to the highest edge of pleasure.

In a sea of one could suffocate—Osamu has never breathed so freely.

No, you could never indeed doubt him.

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chahnniesroom · 1 year ago

Text

tenderness | chapter 9: a time to learn

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 6.8k

chapter warnings: injury recovery, lots of emotions happening

a/n: no words can describe how difficult this chapter was to write haha i apologise for some of the transitions between scenes and also for the fact that i did not proofread more than a cursory skim.

i am not a doctor and i did minimal research on anything medical related

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

Chan’s not a doctor and he’s never wanted to be one. But the longer that he spends in the hospital, the more he wishes there was something he could do to help. He knows that in a way, his presence is helping. The doctor tells him that for injuries, a soulmate bond is actually beneficial because sufficient Charge can increase healing times.

The doctor also explains that the more serious injury is the initial stab wound. The blade had damaged Y/n’s liver, which had required surgery and now demands constant monitoring. It was the main reason that Y/n would have to stay in the hospital for an extended period of time. While the second wound was larger and required more stitches, it was fairly shallow and was expected to heal without any issues.

As expected, there’s various bruises from the fall, but what surprises Chan is that he’s told Y/n is suffering from a mild concussion. When he had watched the footage that he had saved from social media, he could see that Y/n may have hit her head, but it hadn’t seemed that hard.

It means that Chan hasn’t left the hospital yet. It doesn’t really help that Y/n was specifically brought to the hospital that her father owns and that she’s situated in one of the nicest rooms available. With a large private bathroom, a separate room that has a few couches and low tables to entertain guests, and a large bed that’s almost more comfortable than the one Chan has at home, there’s no reason to leave. Yonghwan has been going back to the dorms to collect clothes and other personal items, like Chan’s laptop and some equipment. After a few days, the boys are allowed to visit too, although only in small groups and for short periods of time.

Chan kind of hates the medications that Y/n is put on. He knows that she needs them to deal with the pain, to protect her from infection, it's just difficult to witness how they make her woozy and extremely tired, drifting in and out of consciousness. When she is awake, her thoughts are scattered, she can’t concentrate for long periods of time, and she spends most of the time watching Chan as he works or dozing.

It's a relief when she's finally weaned off of the ones that have the worst side effects.

Although she gets her phone back pretty soon after waking, Y/n doesn’t really touch it until her doctor lets her know that her concussion has healed and she’s been cleared to look at screens without any limitations. Chan has helped her with messaging some of her friends and family, but she seems pleased to have full access to her phone again. Chan leaves her to catch up on everything, taking out his laptop and opening up a track that he’s been trying half-heartedly to finish a first draft of.

He gets pulled away from his work a couple hours later when Y/n calls his name. She’s biting at her lip and staring with a furrowed brow at something on her phone. He immediately sets aside his laptop and turns to face her, trying not to worry.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Did you- I saw-” Y/n takes a second to gather herself and then flips her phone to show him what she’s looking at. It’s a Twitter fanpage, dedicated to Chan’s Bubble subscription. The last tweets are the updates to his profile picture, background photo, name, and status.

He did it in a fit of anger, knowing it was about as much as he could do without getting in trouble with the company. He wouldn’t dare send any messages about the incident, especially ones that could be twisted the wrong way and end up hurting Y/n, but he couldn’t just sit and pretend everything was okay.

So he deleted it all. Or, rather as much as he could. Replacing the pictures with solid black, leaving the status line empty. He didn’t have as much freedom with his name, but left it as “찬“ and nothing more. He hadn’t sent anything since then, either.

The other members hadn’t changed anything on their profile, but they too had been subdued in their messaging. The first couple of days, they did nothing. After that, Changbin, Jisung, and Felix joined Chan in the continued radio silence. Hyunjin had sent pictures of the sunset, when it was Y/n’s favourite time of the day and the clouds were painted pink against the blue background of the sky. Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin had messaged only a couple times since then, reminders for Stays to eat well, get lots of rest, and stay safe.

There hadn’t been an official statement released by the company, but news of the incident had spread like wildfire.

“And yesterday was Sunday,” Y/n says slowly. “You were here the whole time, what about Channie’s Room?”

“What about it?”

“You didn’t do it?” When Chan just shrugs in response, Y/n’s brow creases like she’s trying to figure out some sort of puzzle. “What? But you… You always do it. Did the company tell you that you can't?”

“No, they didn't have to. I already let them know I wasn't going to."

"Then why?"

“I didn’t want to. I don’t want to,” Chan says sullenly, even though the explanation makes him feel like a toddler who doesn’t want to share their toys.

“What do you mean? It’s- You promised Stays! Here you can go now, just go to your studio and do a short live. If this is some sort of roundabout punishment for what happened-”

“I don’t want to,” Chan repeats. “All they’re going to do is spam the chat with questions about what happened. I don’t want to deal with that and honestly I don’t know if I can go through that without blowing up on them.”

"But-"

"Is it really so hard to believe that I have had other priorities the past few days? That I don't want to have to pretend that everything is okay?"

Y/n seems to soften at that. Chan reaches out and he catches her hand in his, mindful of the tape and IV that’s attached to it. The Charge warms between them.

“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s-” she hesitates for a moment. “I’m glad that you’re taking a break. Sorry if it felt like I was pressuring you.”

“You weren’t. Everything that I’m doing, it’s my decision. I know everything has been pretty overwhelming lately, but you’re-”

Before he can finish, the door to their room slides open and a nurse steps in to serve them dinner.

“What were you going to say?” Y/n asks once they’re alone again.

“I don’t remember anymore,” Chan lies. “So it probably wasn’t that important. Let’s eat.”

Chan’s almost glad for the interruption. The moment is gone now and Chan’s just now realising that he has no idea how Y/n would react if he had said what he wanted. That she was his biggest priority right now. That he cares about her. That he would do anything for her.

He’ll do that later, when they’re at home. When everything has calmed down.

—

Chan wakes to the loud smack of someone’s hand against a table. His face is burrowed into the soft fabric covering Y/n’s shoulder, his arm is wrapped around her waist, and the whole length of his body relaxed by the warm thrum of the Charge. He cracks open one eye and, after seeing that neither Y/n nor Eunsung, who was the source of the noise, have seemed to notice, quickly closes it to feign sleep.

When Eunsung speaks, his tone is exasperated, like he’s had this conversation multiple times before.

“Are you even listening to yourself? You can’t keep doing this. You have to talk to him about it,” he insists. “The doctor said you have acute fatigue and the only reason it’s getting better is because the two of you are practically glued together right now. The second that he starts going back to schedules, it’s going to be the same as it was before.”

“I was doing fine before,” Y/n defends herself. “Things just got so busy with all the concerts, I forgot to eat enough. As long as I make sure that I’m getting enough calories, it makes up for the Charge. I promise, I'll make sure to take better care of myself."

Chan has no clue what they’re talking about. Acute fatigue? Y/n not eating enough? Chan hasn’t heard anything on these before.

"I don't think you understand. It's not about you doing things to take better care of yourself, it's about him not letting you take care of yourself. If you Charged for at least 6 hours a day then you wouldn't have to worry about eating more than you used to. You shouldn't have to be making up for anything," Eunsung argues.

"Listen, Eunsung-oppa," she says. "I know you're saying this because you're concerned, but I know what I'm doing. This is… This is bigger than just Chan-ssi and I. He's not just my soulmate, he's the leader of Stray Kids, a producer for 3RACHA. It's- The work that he does- What I see on Twitter, the comments on Youtube, the posts on community. He has the power to reach so many people and make lives better. And he does. He’s such a good person. How can I do anything but support him in any way I can? Even if that means letting him push himself without stepping in, then I'll do it. I trust that he knows his own limits."

“And if that means him ignoring your limits?”

“Eunsung-oppa-” Y/n protests.

"You've talked to him about it," Eunsung interrupts her, clearly able to read something in her tone of voice.

"Yeah, I- I understand how you feel, being on that side of it. I thought that I could convince him, but it turns out that he convinced me instead."

"But the conversation you were having, it was about him taking care of himself instead of you prioritising your needs, wasn't it?" he presses. Y/n confirms, but it sounds reluctant.

“He didn’t want to hear it. He was… I don’t know. I don’t want to say what he said to me.”

“And he never brought it up again?”

“He did, kind of. He said sorry the next day. And I know he’s sorry. I know some of the things that he said were just in the heat of the moment. I get it, I really do. He was stressed, tired, we probably weren’t getting enough Charge, even then. But… It hurt. What he said,” Y/n says, her voice small. “What he really meant. It still hurts a little, every time I think about it. Every time I see him.”

"Sometimes you two are too similar. You’re both just pretending you’re fine, but you’re not. I know Chan, maybe not as well as you, but in a different way. He’s not the type to just let this type of thing slide. As much as I hate him right now for making you hurt, if he doesn’t know that you’re hurting, then there’s no way that things will be fixed. I think you need to talk again, if he cares about you at all then he wouldn't just let this go."

"I think you're overestimating our relationship a bit."

"What? Even after the past few months, you guys aren't close?"

“I’m not delusional, I never had fantasies of us immediately falling in love like in the movies or shows, I just,” she shrugs with the shoulder the Chan wasn’t curled up against. “I don’t know, I just thought that we could be friends or something.”

“You wouldn't even consider yourself to be friends?” Eunsung says in a low voice.

“Actually, at one point I did think we were friends… or maybe more,” Y/n admits with a hollow laugh. “I was wrong. His attitude keeps changing, I can’t keep track of it. One second he’s annoyed at me for nagging him and the next he’s carrying me to bed because I fell asleep on the couch. But wherever we’re arguing, it feels like it’s always my fault. And I know, I know that I’m hard to be around. It’s just hard. The moments of… care, they were an illusion. It was all fake, like kids playing house. He can tolerate me of course, but in the end, I'm just someone he works with.”

"You don't think that if he were to hear what you're saying, he would be sad?" Eunsung asks. Y/n stays silent for a while.

“I don't know. What he said to me. I thought a lot about it. I- I want to make his life better, but I think… I think I make it worse. I don’t understand why we’re soulmates, I can think of a million people who would be better for him than me,” she finally confesses, voice sounding wet.

Eunsung shifts forward, but before he can speak, a nurse knocks on the door and lets herself in. It’s enough noise that Chan takes it as an opportunity to pretend to wake up. When Y/n notices, she looks back towards the nurse and quickly sits up straighter so that Chan's arm naturally falls away from where it’s wrapped around her.

“I think you should go to the company, Chan-ssi,” Y/n suggests after the nurse has finished redressing her wound and has left. Her voice is back to normal, upbeat even, and if Chan hadn't been awake then he wouldn't have been able to tell she had just been in a heavy conversation. It’s scary how easily she can mask her emotions. “I don’t want you to fall behind because of all the time you’ve been spending here. Eunsung is already heading there, he can give you a ride.”

“What am I, a chauffeur?” Eunsung mutters, but he stands up and gathers his things without waiting for an answer. “Come on, let’s go.”

Normally, Chan would protest being ordered around, but at this point he’s just grateful to have some space to process what he just heard. He knows that Minho and Jisung were planning to visit soon and that Felix would be dropping by shortly after, so at least he feels somewhat comfortable leaving Y/n alone. He feels lightheaded and… bad in a way that he can’t describe. It's different than when he first found out that Y/n was hurt. Now it's almost like he’s dissociating, but worse because having an out-of-body experience would be better than the heavy press of emotions that he feels now. It’s clogging up his airways and all he can do is focus on following Eunsung out of the room.

Chan hasn’t had many opportunities to interact with Eunsung, but he knows for sure that they were never as tense as they are right now. It’s understandable though, after what he just heard. When Chan starts toward the lane where he usually gets picked up and dropped off, Eunsung instead steers him toward the parkade.

“This way, superstar. Unlike you, I actually have the freedom to drive myself.” Chan barely notices the thinly veiled jab, he’s still reeling from the conversation. He can’t think of a comeback and really, doesn’t feel like he deserves to give a rebuttal.

When they finally stop in front of a car, Chan catches himself right before reaching for the back car door instead of the one to sit shotgun.

The pair sit in silence for the first half of the ride, until Eunsung finally speaks up.

“You know, you don’t deserve her,” Eunsung says, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“And you do?” Chan fires back, thinking of all the rumours he’s heard from the rest of the staff, the giggles he hears whenever Eunsung interacts with Y/n. Although his guilt is creeping up and clouding his thoughts, his first instincts are to feel defensive.

Y/n is his soulmate, not Eunsung’s.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen how close the two of you are.” He tries hard to not sound too accusatory, but instead his words come out as overly bitter.

"Yeah, we're friends."

"And is that all you want to be?"

In response, Eunsung just laughs incredulously. “What? Even you thought- You think that I like Y/n? I’m-” He can’t even finish his thoughts before he starts to laugh again. “Of course I like her, but she’s like a sister to me.”

“Of course you would say that-”

“I’m married, Chan."

"What?" Chan exclaims. "But, but everyone was saying you- I thought- Who are you married to?"

"Saerom. I've definitely mentioned her before, I know for sure that Y/n has too."

“Oh,” he says dumbly, “I thought- I thought Saerom was the name of your dog.”

"What?!" Eunsung turns to gape at Chan.

“How was I supposed to know? You said you have to take her on walks otherwise she gets too restless, you talk about buying her treats! You said she doesn’t like it when you’re travelling for too long, it sounds like how Berry gets when the family goes on vacation. Just because she has a human name doesn't mean she is a human. I've never seen a picture of her either."

“Oh, I cannot wait to tell Y/n about this.” Eunsung continues to laugh while Chan hides his face in his hands. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire. He’s relieved that Eunsung isn’t secretly in love with Y/n but also mortified that he thought his wife was a dog. At this point, opening the car door and flinging himself out doesn’t sound like a bad idea to get himself out of this conversation.

“You don’t wear a ring,” he says, probably digging himself further into the hole he’s currently in.

In response, Eunsung hooks a finger under the collar of his shirt and pulls out a chain, a ring dangling on the end of it. They turn into the company parking lot and Eunsung kills the engine, turning to face Chan directly.

“Chan-ssi,” he says seriously. “I know that there are rumours about a relationship between Y/n and I. She knows about them too. I’m not deaf to the chatter or the way they react when we’re together. Just, is it really so bad if people suspect that the two of us are soulmates? And I’m not saying this because I enjoy all the rumours. It’s because I know that they mask any sort of interactions that you have with her. If any other staff finds out that you’ve been visiting her in the hospital, they wouldn’t think anything of it other than you being concerned because she’s a manager and you were right there when it happened.”

Even though Chan doesn’t like the idea, he knows that Eunsung is right. It’s safer this way. He just has to get used to swallowing the possessive part of him that wants to publicly declare his soulmate bond. He can do this if it means protecting Y/n.

“You’re right,” Chan says quietly.

“I know all of this must be hard for you and even harder if you didn’t know about Saerom. Just know, we’d never do anything outside of being friends, I promise. If you don’t trust me, then at least trust Y/n. And,” he hesitates for a moment. “I know you heard our conversation earlier.”

“What?”

“I saw when you woke up. You’re not as good of an actor as you think you are, but luckily for you, I don’t think Y/n noticed.”

“I- I really messed things up, didn’t I?” Chan says, feeling defeated.

“I’ll be honest, it’s going to be difficult, fixing your relationship. Y/n is very independent. It’s definitely one of her strengths, but it’s also a big weakness. She doesn’t ask for help, even if she needs it and she’s very hard on herself. You know her family, she’s used to doing things on her own. She’s trying her best with this whole soulmate situation and she was really opening up. She trusted you.”

The past tense in his sentence shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

“You hurt her,” Eunsung continues. “But I know Y/n will forgive you. She cares about you, a lot. If it wasn’t obvious by… everything that has happened so far. You just have to talk to her.”

“I- Thank you, Eunsung,” Chan finally says. “Thank you for being there for her, for helping with all of… this. I’m sorry.”

“You’re a good person, Chan-ssi. I want things to work out between the two of you.” Abruptly, Eunsung’s tone hardens. “But if you make a habit of hurting her, just know that sasaengs will be the least of your worries.”

—

Chan forces himself to try and be productive for at least an hour in his studio before resigning himself to the reality that he wouldn’t be able to get anything done with how distracted he is. He spends the whole time wishing that he was back at the hospital.

Right as he’s about to call it a day, Jisung- who has just arrived after visiting Y/n and assures him that she’s still doing okay- and Changbin join him. They’ve actually been getting work done in the past few days and quickly run through the progress that they’ve made. Even with their presence, Chan’s attention span is practically non-existent. Everything seems to remind him of Y/n.

He ends up staying until the sun starts to set. When Changbin and Jisung start to discuss dinner options, he takes the opportunity to pack up his things.

“Hyung, are you not joining us?” Changbin asks.

“Sorry-” Chan starts saying.

“Hyung just wants to go and see Y/n again. He doesn’t care about us anymore,” Jisung whines playfully.

“That’s not true!” Chan says indignantly.

“You don’t have to lie, just make it up to us.”

“Anything,” Chan agrees.

“Have dinner back at the dorms with us tomorrow,” Jisung says instantly. “You need to bring new clothes to the hospital anyway, you can save Yonghwan-hyung a trip this way.”

Chan realises this was his plan all along and reluctantly agrees. Logically, he knows that nothing will happen to Y/n while he’s away, he just feels better being able to see it with his own eyes.

—

When he gets back to the hospital, he’s surprised to find Y/n just staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She doesn’t react to the sound of the door opening or Chan’s greeting while he had closed it again. He approaches her cautiously, afraid of startling her, but still manages to make her jump when he gets into her field of vision.

“Oh!” she says breathlessly, putting a hand to her chest. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were back.” She automatically smiles at him.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, just had a weird day,” she says in that same strange voice she had back in Japan. Chan is starting to realise it means that she’s hiding something.

“Y/n-”

“Maybe it’s just because you were gone. Not to be clingy or anything, I’m glad that you were finally able to go to the company and get some real work done, but I’ve gotten used to having you attached to my side,” she jokes. It’d be convincing if her voice was more steady, if her smile reached her eyes.

“Uhm,” Chan says, not quite sure if he should pursue the topic further or go along with Y/n’s attempt to gloss over it. “I’m sorry, I promised that I’d go back for dinner tomorrow.”

Y/n rolls her eyes at that. “You don’t have to apologise for that! I’m glad that you’re finally getting to see them after being cooped up here. They're your family, you have to spend time with them.”

“I wasn’t forced to stay here though! I want to be here, I want to be with you. You're my family too,” Chan says earnestly.

Y/n's lips press tightly together at that and she breaks eye contact.

“How about this, Eunsung-oppa was planning to come by tomorrow sometime anyway. He said that he’d bring me some non-hospital food and I couldn’t say no,” she says instead of responding to Chan’s comment. “Felix wanted to come by again too, so you can go home at the same time as him. I’ll tell Eunsung-oppa to come by around dinnertime so you don’t feel like you’re leaving me behind, is that okay?”

“Okay, but promise me that if anything happens then just call me and I’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

—

Dinner with the members is rowdy as usual, maybe even moreso. Chan doesn’t think much of it, happy to have a distraction from his thoughts, until he takes a second too long to respond to someone and catches a couple of concerned glances. He realises that the boys are being overly rambunctious to keep him present. It warms his heart and makes him feel guilty at the same time.

After eating, Jisung slumps onto the couch, stretching out so that his feet hang over the side. Chan joins him, smothering him in affection before he leaves for the night. He knows that Jisung has been more anxious than usual these past few days and although he wishes he could do more to help him, his biggest priority at the moment is Y/n.

“Minho-hyung and I met Y/n’s family yesterday,” Jisung says, voice muffled from being pressed against Chan.

Chan bolts upright, accidentally elbowing Jisung in the process, forcing a groan out of him.

“What? When?” he demands. His mind is racing, finally able to sort out Y/n’s strange behaviour when he had last seen her.

“I forgot to mention it at the studio, but when I was visiting, they also showed up. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but they seemed alright.”

“Just alright?” Chan prompts him, trying to calm his heart rate which has spiked.

“Uhm, I mean her parents were very… polite. They spoke to Y/n privately so I just met them briefly.”

“Where did you go?”

“Her brother, Siwon, I forgot he’s a doctor too. He took me to a private lounge they had, there weren’t any people around which was good. He seemed nice, concerned about Y/n.”

“Well not that concerned,” Chan mutters darkly, “since he didn’t even bother to visit until yesterday.”

Jisung stares at him, clearly shocked by the sudden vitriol.

“Sorry,” Chan says, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up wildly. “It’s just been a lot these days, my emotions are everywhere.”

“It’s okay, hyung,” Jisung says cautiously. “It’s been a lot for all of us, but mostly you and Y/n.”

Chan hums in agreement, but still feels bad.

“You can go back now if you want,” Jisung prompts him.

“What? No, I-”

“I can tell you’re distracted,” he says. “Go, we’ll still be here when she’s better.”

Chan goes.

—

The route to the hospital and through the back entrance is becoming more familiar by now. Chan accidentally startles Y/n when he opens the door to her room, but her expression quickly settles to one of relief upon seeing him. Now that he’s looking closely, he can recognize the same, strained smile that he first saw at Chuseok.

She shuffles to the side of the bed and lifts the blankets so that Chan can sit beside her. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer.

“The boys all missed you,” he says in greeting. “Dinner wasn’t the same with just the eight of us.”

“Oh come on-”

“You’re part of us, now. I told you before. And-” Chan hesitates for a moment. “I heard that your parents visited.” Y/n stiffens for a second, before relaxing again.

“Ah, Jisungie, the little snitch,” she says, the fondness in her voice opposing her words. “Yes, they dropped by while you were away.”

“And?”

“Well, my eomoni was telling me that it was a sign that I should quit my job, get out of the industry, said I was stupid for getting between the sasaeng on you, the usual. But I got my abeoji to look over my files, when I asked he said that I can be released tomorrow!” she says excitedly, smiling so much that her eyes curve into crescents. “I get to go home!”

It’s clear that things with her parents didn’t go as well as Y/n is projecting, but Chan is too much of a coward to push more. Somehow that righteous anger that had filled him when he had talked to Jisung has been replaced with uncertainty. He doesn’t want to get into yet another disagreement with Y/n now that he knows what she truly thinks of him. Or rather, what she thinks that he thinks of her. He needs to focus on bringing them together instead of allowing them to drift further apart. He vows to bring this topic up another time, when things are better between them.

“That’s great!” he replies, but even as he says it, he can’t help the nervousness that starts to form in his stomach at the thought. He is happy that she’s been healing well and will definitely be reassured to have her back home, but until now, the hospital has served as a sort of protective bubble for Y/n, shielding her from the outside world. He has the irrational sense that keeping her here longer is the same as keeping her safe for longer.

—

“Bang Chan-nim?” The doctor that has been in charge of Y/n’s care steps into the room and glances at Y/n, who is busy packing away her things. All morning she’s been in a good mood, enthusiastically talking about what she plans to do once she’s back at the dorms. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course!” he replies. He tells himself that everything is alright, but can't stop himself from running his hands through his mess of hair, palms prickling with nerves.

The doctor leads Chan to his office and smiles at him gently, like he’s about to break some bad news and needs to make sure that Chan doesn’t also break. It makes things worse, Chan’s stomach starts to churn, his mind racing.

“This might be a difficult conversation, but you may already be aware.” The doctor starts slowly. “Y/n-nim works with idols, right? In the entertainment industry?”

“Yes,” Chan agrees, but he’s confused. Did someone leak the news of Y/n’s injuries? Is there a sasaeng that’s been visiting the hospital? He wants to pull out his phone and immediately call the company and force them to do more damage control, but the doctor continues.

“These days, there is a lot of pressure for young women, especially those who work with or follow idols, to fit into certain beauty standards.” Chan nods. He’s seen countless people destroy their bodies to try and lose more and more weight and knows how devastating it is, but he still doesn’t understand the point of this conversation.

“I’m concerned about Y/n-nim”-the doctor interrupts Chan’s thoughts-“When she came to the hospital, we were focused only on her injuries, but throughout her treatment, we have noticed that she is underweight. The testing that we’ve done tells us she has not been getting enough of what her body needs. Not getting enough food, not enough charge, and not enough rest. She's showing signs that she was becoming malnourished.

“It’s not uncommon to see those with soulmates, especially young women, take advantage of the bond, reducing charging time and saying that they will eat more instead. They often eat a normal amount so that it doesn’t concern anyone, but it’s not nearly enough to make up for the missing charge. Both of you have probably been more sensitive lately. It wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve also noticed yourself being irritable or having rapid mood changes these past few days."

Chan can't do anything but stare as the doctor pulls out a small packet of paper. His pulse roars in his ears and all he can feel is guilt, pooling in his stomach and creeping towards his extremities. He feels nauseous. This is his fault.

He thinks back to all the nights where he stayed in the studio, just a little bit longer to finish a track, sliding into bed to charge for only a few hours before they had to wake up. Of the extra meals, protein drinks, snacks he had consumed that he thought nothing of, too used to the varying diets of the rest of the members depending on their schedules and the ups and downs of bulking up or cutting calories. He’s used to the heaviness of his eyelids, the pounding headaches, and occasional dizziness that were the result of sleepless nights.

All these things he had taken in stride, forgetting that Y/n had been dealing with too. He had the luxury of being an idol, during schedules and tour, there was always breaks for food. But he had seen the way the managers and coordis had to run around, only eating when they had a couple minutes to spare.

He knows that he’s snapped at Y/n more than a few times, patience worn thin enough that at the end of the day he doesn’t have it in him for niceties. Of course, he had felt bad about it after the fact, but Y/n hadn’t seemed very phased by it and he had forgotten about it until the next time. It wouldn’t be the first time that stress made him more easily annoyed and ill-tempered, but now he realises why he seemed quicker to get caught up in his emotions.

The doctor continues talking, but Chan feels like he's underwater, the sound is muffled. This is his fault.

"Bang Chan-nim!" The doctor clasps one of Chan's hands in his and finally pulls his attention away from his self-loathing thoughts. "Are you okay? I know it can be a shock to find out, but don't feel bad. It's very common to be surprised, people are good at hiding things like this, even if you're close to them and I know that your bond is still relatively new. Luckily there are a lot of strategies we have to help your soulmate get more Charge, even if you both have busy schedules. Okay?"

"Okay," Chan replies weakly, he can barely focus on what’s being said, all he can think of is that he's the reason his soulmate is malnourished. And he didn't notice. That they think Y/n has an eating disorder, when it's him that has dictated the amount of charge that she gets. The doctor flips open the packet of papers and starts to highlight it.

"The most important thing right now is increasing Charging time. With Y/n-nim's injuries, her bedrest and all the time you two have spent charging have already been helping a lot. Take this recovery period as a time to build new habits and establish a routine that involves more skinship. I understand you two are busy, but I expect you try for at least 6 or 7 hours of sleep while charging, but more if possible. If you're both doing work on the computer, watching a show or movie, or eating, then sitting close enough to touch will help recharge without taking away from your regular activities. As you may already know, for the most efficient charging more skin-to-skin contact is recommended." He flips the front page back over and places the packet onto another, larger, stack of papers. "More details can be found here and this is the rest of Y/n-ssi's care instructions, prescriptions, and other information on soulmate bonds."

"Thank you so much," Chan says, automatically reaching out to accept all the papers.

"You're welcome. This must be very overwhelming, but Y/n-nim is healing quickly. Your bond is helping her recover much faster. We caught her malnutrition fairly early and expect that she'll be at normal energy levels within a few weeks. Don't feel guilty and try not to worry too much, Bang Chan-nim. Your bond is a good thing, not a bad one." The doctor smiles warmly, checking his watch and standing up. "Y/n-nim should be ready to be discharged now, let's go back to the room so that we don’t keep her waiting."

Chan follows the doctor back in a daze. Y/n is sitting on one of the chairs in her room, scrolling on her phone when they arrive. She brightens when they enter.

“Can we leave now?” she asks eagerly. Chan beelines to her side, reaching to hold her hand.

“Yes, everything has been sorted out now and Bang Chan-nim has all your care instructions. Please give us a call or come to visit if you have any questions or concerns at all,” the doctor says.

“Of course.”

“Looks like everything is ready to go. It was very nice to meet you both, although I wish it could have been under better circumstances. I hope that the rest of your recovery goes well, Y/n-nim, and please do not hesitate to contact us for anything.” With that, the doctor bows and leaves the room.

At the same moment, a nurse knocks on the doorframe as a greeting, pushing a wheelchair through the open door. Y/n’s smile fades when she sees it.

“Oh, no,” she says quickly. “I can walk, there’s no need for one of those.”

She turns to look at Chan for support, but he just shrugs helplessly. Secretly, he would feel better if she used it. After only a week in the hospital, she isn’t close to being fully recovered, even if she hides it well. He’s seen the slight grimaces when Y/n tries to shift positions and the way her face is lined with pain when she walks or has to stand straight for longer than a few minutes. If she pushes herself too much now, it’ll just extend the overall healing process.

“Really, I don’t need it,” she insists. “What was the point in all the walking practise? Besides, Chan-ssi and Yonghwan-ssi will be beside me, they won't let anything happen to me.”

The nurse looks sceptical, but agrees. Before they leave the room, Y/n twists her hand trying to break Chan’s grip.

“It’s too public,” she murmurs when he tightens his hold instead. “Just in case, I don’t want anyone to see anything that can be misinterpreted.”

Unable to think up an argument against that, Chan reluctantly lets go. Y/n hooks her arm with Yonghwan’s instead and they make their way out, Chan hovering behind them anxiously. They’re all wearing masks and hats and the car that’s going to pick them up is waiting at a private exit, but there’s a shared urgency in their movement. By now, the media has turned their attention to other stories, but with the radio silence from Stray Kids since the incident, fans have had nothing to do except theorise and wonder what’s happening behind the scenes.

He knows that it’s making him paranoid. He finds that he’s constantly looking over his shoulder when he’s in the hallways of the hospital. He’s never been more careful trying to cover up his appearance and avoid anybody who looks like they might recognise him.

They can’t risk the chance of a sighting of Y/n, especially now that her face was captured and shared on social media by fans before JYPE’s legal team was able to step in, and pictures of Chan with Y/n would make things much worse. There have already been rumours about how close Y/n is with all the members and who she is, using pictures from other schedules and events, somehow identifying her in blurred out clips from vlogs that have been posted, and even old footage from when she worked with Xdinary Heroes as evidence.

It scares Chan. Scares him so much that he can’t talk about it to anybody.

Although Y/n’s time in the hospital was fairly short, all things considered, Chan feels like he’s the one that has changed during this stay. Everything he has learned has made him feel like his chest has been opened up and his insides have been scooped out, leaving him hollowed out and unsteady.

When they finally get home safely, it feels like Chan can breathe easily for the first time in days.

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vinxhwrites · 11 months ago

Text

I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:

ghost x f!reader x soap

nsfw, +18

word count: 8.2k

cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry

You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.

You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.

In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.

Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."

It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.

You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.

You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:

"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"

He smiled at you and accepted the invite.

At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.

That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.

It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.

Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.

You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.

Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.

You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.

But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.

"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.

He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.

The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.

He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.

"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.

"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.

You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.

Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.

You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.

He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).

"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".

He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"

"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".

"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".

The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.

Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.

The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.

It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.

"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.

"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.

He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.

"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.

"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"

"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.

"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.

He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.

"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.

You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".

Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.

"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.

That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.

He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.

He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.

This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.

And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.

You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.

For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.

You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.

For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.

As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.

One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"

You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.

"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.

"I'm trying" he mumbled.

"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.

"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.

"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.

It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.

You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.

"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.

"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.

That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.

He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.

"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.

Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.

Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:

"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.

"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.

"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.

"Ok, now you know."

You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.

Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.

You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.

"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.

"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"

He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".

You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.

"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.

He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.

Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.

It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.

You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.

"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.

Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.

You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.

"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"

Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".

The tension you felt was not shared between them.

"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.

"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.

You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.

That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.

To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.

Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.

At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.

He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!

You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.

"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh

"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."

"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.

You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.

"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."

"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.

You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.

He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.

"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"

"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.

"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"

Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.

"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.

Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.

"Just a regular mess" you lied.

"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.

"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..

"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

"I love you too, Johnny"

Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.

Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.

The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.

After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.

"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.

"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."

You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.

You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.

Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.

"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.

"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"

Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".

You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.

"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."

But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.

Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.

You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.

You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.

You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.

Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.

It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.

When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.

"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.

You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"

"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".

"I don't sound like that"

"Yes, you do" he chuckled.

You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"

"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"

"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."

It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.

You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.

You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.

You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.

The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.

"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.

Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.

“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.

He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.

You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.

Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.

Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.

You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.

You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.

"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.

Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.

He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.

They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.

"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.

Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.

He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.

You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.

You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.

You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.

"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.

Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.

Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.

Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.

The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.

"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.

Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.

"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.

He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.

Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.

"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.

Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.

You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.

"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.

He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.

Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.

"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.

"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".

Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.

You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.

“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.

He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.

Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.

You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.

"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.

He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.

Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.

He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.

"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.

You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.

You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.

The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.

Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.

You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.

He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.

"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.

They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.

Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.

"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".

Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.

Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.

The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.

You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.

You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.

When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.

"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.

Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.

Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.

(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).

#ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod one shot #ghostsoap

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softie-rain · 4 months ago

Note

Heyy, well, I wanted to give you an idea I have about Sejanus, he and reader are dating but no one at the academy knows and one day they act very affectionate in the hallway then rumors start to spread

Everyone would be like "are they dating? In the hallway they almost kissed"

If you don't want to make this request you can ignore it and I hope you are having a good day 💗💗

pairing: sejanus x gen!reader

tw: none, pure fluff

note: thanks for requesting!! You didn't specify so I went with gen reader :) also I'm so sorry I forgot I had this in my drafts, I hope you're still out there dear anon!! If you see this please lmk you are lol

The decision of keeping the relationship between you and Sejanus a secret had been mutual. First off, your father would never approve of you dating someone from the Districts. He'd forbid you from seeing Sejanus ever again if he were to found out about the two of you.

And second of all, your classmates would never stop making fun of you for it, without mentioning all the teasing and bullying Sejanus would get- even more than usual.

You were happy together, and you both knew you didn't need anyone's approval for it.

Both you and Sejanus had done a pretty good job at hiding it at the Academy, never holding hands in public and speaking only if necessary, as you usually did before you started dating. You doubted your classmates suspected anything, maybe only Coriolanus had some suspicions given his friendship with Sejanus.

That was, until yesterday.

You had just gotten out of history class after a particularly tough exam, and you were definitely mentally exhausted. You just wanted to go home and lay down, but you still had a long day ahead of you.

Sejanus saw you walking in the hallway, definitely looking out of it, and immediately noticed something was wrong. He frowned, carefully approaching you. "Is something wrong?" He asked, walking side by side with you.

You shrugged and nodded. Sejanus furrowed his eyebrows, detecting your life a mile away. He didn't want to push you or make you uncomfortable, but wasn't he - as your boyfriend - supposed to make sure you were always happy? Or at least try to do so.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired." You explained, stopping right in front of your next class. "I'll be fine after a long sleep. For now, I just gotta survive." You joked, offering him a tired smile.

Sejanus smiled back, unable to hold himself before leaning down and leaving two kisses, on your forehead and cheek. "Okay. I'll see you later then."

You blushed at the contact, not at all used to Sejanus showing affection in public, and waved him goodbye before entering the room, still stunned by his sudden action. Sejanus stood there on the door as if lovestruck, observing as you found your seat and took out your books, before finally walking away to his own class.

The day after the first thing Sejanus did upon arriving at the Academy was searching for you. He could see some of the other students murmuring between them and pointing at him as he passed, which didn't surprise him. He had become used by now to the mean jokes they threw his way at school.

He finally found you talking with Lysistrata outside of class. He was going to wait for you to be finished talking with your friend before greeting you, but as soon as Lysistrata noticed Sejanus her eyes widened. She slightly moved aside, smiling gently. "I have to go now. Let's catch up at lunch!" She said, waving goodbye to both you and Sejanus before walking away.

You nodded and smiled, turning to your boyfriend. "Hi. How are you?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

You softly laughed at his attempt, "I'm good, thanks. As I said yesterday- I just needed some sleep." Sejanus was about to respond, when Festus appeared behind him.

"Plinth." He greeted, before turning to you. "So, uh, out of pure curiosity. How long has this been going on?" Festus asked the both of you.

You and Sejanus exchanged a confused look. "This what?" You questioned out loud, genuinely confused, but Festus simply shrugged.

"You know, this?", he gestured between the two of you, "whatever you... share?"

Sejanus raised an eyebrow. "Festus do you have a point to make or are we going to stay here all day?"

"How long have you two been dating?" Festus let out, almost looking unsure of his own words.

You suddenly felt your cheeks grow warm, and you could see Sejanus was having a similar reaction next to you. Considering the grin Festus was now wearing after witnessing your reactions, lying seemed pointless. And Sejanus seemed to be of the same opinion since he responded, "A couple of months, actually. Why, you jealous?"

Your blush only increased as Sejanus took your hand in his, softly giving it a squeeze. Festus' eyes went from your intertwined hands to your face, and finally Sejanus'. "Dear Panem, no." He said with a mocking laugh, "but I do own Hilarious money now. Great."

"You guys bet on how long we've been dating?" You asked surprised, a mildly amused tone in your voice.

Festus nodded, "I bet a week, him anything longer than that." He commented, annoyed.

"How did you-"

"Oh c'mon. Did you think no one would have seen your sweet moment yesterday?" Festus teased him.

"The kiss? It was just-"

"On the forehead. And cheek," Festus interrupted Sejanus again, "you guys usually barely talk at school. You really thought it was subtle?" He let out a laugh at Sejanus' dumbfounded expression and then walked away- probably to give Hilarious what he owed him.

Sejanus turned to look at you with an unsure smile on his lips, putting his arm protectively around you. Now that everyone at school apparently knew, at least he didn't have to act so distant with you anymore. "So... they know."

"Indeed they do." You murmured, leaning into his touch. "I don't really mind, they were going to find out sooner or later. Do you?"

Sejanus shook his head. "Of course not. But your father-" You put your finger on his lips, shushing him.

"We'll take care of that when the time comes. For now, let's just enjoy what little freedom we still have." Sejanus smiled and nodded, giving you a long, sweet kiss on the lips.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus x you

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acerathia · 2 months ago

Text

pink camellias || Chapter 4: sweet william

Chapter Summary:

sweet william: gallantry

Wordcount: 2.4k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

Tags/CW:

royalty au, inspired by Mulan, war and its consequences, violence, childhood friends to strangers to companions to lovers (i am sorry), Angst, Acts of Service, Character Death (Major, and Minor), swordfights, misogyny, f!reader, kidnapping, implied torture, let me know if I missed anything lol

Note:

this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long. so im gonna post the chapters i have o7

The next day, the actual training started. And you honestly didn’t expect the Captain to wake everyone at the crack of dawn, which was too early, even for you. But you prepared yourself for the training with no complaints, you were too tired to voice any of them anyway. So you washed your face and put some fresh clothes on, before heading to the training space.

The masses of people were filled with complaints and remarks. Denki had made his way to stand beside you, too groggy to say something just yet.

The Captain immediately raised his voice to get the attention of everyone, telling them to start the rounds, the same amount as the day before, and the last ones have to run a good amount more. Instantly everyone took their legs in their hands and hurried along the track. And you knew you could just start running and overtake them all, but you’d rather not end up too exhausted for the later exercises because there were surely other things you would have to absolve. So you stayed in the middle, with no risk of ending up last, but also not exerting yourself more than you usually would have.

After completing these rounds, and walking yourself down, you began to stretch before the rest of the group was done. Surprisingly the Captain even waited for the losers to finish their extra rounds, before he started the next portion: intense physical training.

Following the shouted instructions, you got into the positions, stretching, pulling, stemming. And for some reason the Captain always seemed to find something wrong with your form, often taking your arms between his and correcting the way you’re holding stuff. His hands were warm and you could even feel the callouses through the fabric you’re wearing. The worst thing about his help was the way he seems to trample on your dignity, a scoff ready on his face every time he walked past you, and just for that, you were barely affected with the way his breath felt on your neck, or how big the size difference between you both was.

At some point, it almost felt like his hand was fixed to your back, with the amount of correction he seems to be doing. And it was starting to grate on you, because he made you look incompetent with every push of his, with every remark. But you persevered, you put more effort into everything, fully aware that nothing would truly satisfy him, yet you challenged that boundary, pushed against it every day, with every task, with every straining muscle.

So once he announced that the first phase of training had been successfully carried out, you stood tall amongst the survivors, as many have given up during the borderline torture the Captain called training. Now the rest of you had the true honor of finally starting phase two, the phase where everyone would be sharpening their skill.

Days after days everyone honed their skill in hand-to-hand combat, preparing you for the last desperate attempt to save your life. And gradually the Captain allowed you to use weapons, one by one. Daggers with poison on their blade, swords, claymores, and even archery. Everyone found the right weapon for themselves, despite having the basic amount of training for each mastery.

You stayed loyal to the sword, always on the high ground in terms of skill due to your years of training. At first, being better in that skill gave you the feeling of superiority, but after a while it turned into dull boredom. So, you decided to finally try something new, to achieve a new skill with a new weapon. That was how you choose your new weapon, purely out of spite, as the others suggested you take up archery, and you couldn’t help but notice the condescension in their tone. Still, you thanked them for their suggestion, only to grab an ax, letting the weight sink into your palm before you simply walked past the group of trainees.

And at first it was difficult. The center of gravity differed from the one of a sword, impacting your accuracy, while the weight pulling down on one side made the lifting of the weapon much more difficult. But you prevailed. You continued to hone your skills with the ax, to strengthen your muscles, to get used to the balance of it, and you learned how to throw the ax, so that the blade always hit the target with proper might, how to swing it against a bigger opponent, how to use the knowledge of weak points to the advantage of this different blade. And of course, you trained to be able to switch between the two weapons without a break to adjust.

As much as you wanted to claim this achievement as your own, you had to admit that the Captain's advice did help you occasionally. He had helped you at the beginning with your stance, standing behind you, his palms barely touching the back of your hands as he showed you how to hold the ax to stabilize it as much as possible, and how to have the best grip. His breath fanned over your face as he slowly told you how to swing. Suddenly you were too aware of his presence, but you guided your focus back to your swing, taking a couple of them to get a handle of the motion, before the Captain stepped back and you finally threw the weapon towards the target. Whirling through the air in a smooth motion, it didn’t actually hit dead center, but close enough, so you couldn’t help the little celebratory jump at achieving this hit. But then you made eye contact with the blond, and you immediately stiffened up, trying to regain your appearance by simply thanking him and turning away to get your ax.

“Hold on, princess, let’s cross swords,” he calls out to you, and for once this didn’t seem like a command and more like a request.

And at first you ruminated the thought of straight-up refusing him, but you couldn’t let the opportunity to duel with another skilled swordfighter slip between your fingers. So, still not wanting to give him the satisfaction of outright agreeing with something he said, you just shrug and change your direction to grab your sword. With your sword in hand you returned to him, his own weapon ready in his hand, in a fighting stance before you even arrived close enough for any of you to attack.

For a moment you both just stared at each other, measuring the opponent, their stance. His footwork was solid, heavy yet light, ready to dodge, attack whenever needed. You doubted you could throw him off-balance with any of your swift tricks.

Your gaze shifted, grazing his slim waist to focus on his broad shoulders and his trained arms. He was used to applying force, yet seemed to know how to manage it. A flicker at the back of your mind wondered what else he could use that strength for, and you quenched it before it even had the possibility to ignite into something more fierce.

And then you looked at his face, his tense jaw, and his sparkling red eyes, resembling the depth of the fire, of explosions wracking the enemy line. Making eye contact a smirk formed on his face, plush lips stretching to flash his canines. Then he swung.

Only your reflexes saved you from being cut, shallow, yet a sign-off to your victory. His blade clashed with yours and he pushed. The sword scarred each other, enticing sparks, and you dug your heels into the ground.

His breath fanned over your face, barely avoiding the blades in front of you, and you scowled, staring right into his eyes full of fire and crunching autumn leaves. Honey seemed to outline them in daring lines, dripping down his forehead only to get brushed aside by the slight breeze.

And you were well aware of the grin resting on his face, despite the swords hiding the lower half of his face, despite your own scowl mirrored by the blade, fitting itself over his features. He was so sure of this victory, so sure of your loss, the glee is filling his eyes. The glee about finally putting you to your place, about showing you how you don’t belong to this place. And this glee pumped steam through your veins, melting your muscles, but reinforcing them the same.

And you returned his push with one of your own, noticing the furrow of his brows, the smirk sliding into a scowl. But now your own grin forms, showing you a warped picture of him smiling at you.

With a sudden movement he thrusted you away from him and you stumbled. Before you had regained your balance, he already hooked his sword with yours, like a knot, pulling it tight and away from you.

So you couldn’t do anything but raise your hands in surrender as the tip of his blade pointed towards your throat.

No matter how much you despised him, you acknowledged his mastery in swordsmanship. The way he swung his sword with precision and almost seemed able to predict the movement of his opponents just entranced you. Not that you would ever admit that outloud.

That was why you snarled at him, pushing the blade away, carefully only touching the flat side. And yet he suddenly jerked it away.

“Don’t be foolish, have you no knowledge about swords, or is your head filled with straw?” he barked, acting as if you just put your fingers around the sword without reason or rhyme.

But you were well aware of how swords work, and his words only aggravated you. With a grumble you waited until he put his sword away to jump at him, grabbing his hair between your fingers.

You wanted to kick your knee into his stomach, but he managed to block that hit with one of his palms, grabbing your leg and yanking, taking your balance away.

You simply tightened your grip on his head and swung your other leg to hit his right side, where it was supposed to hurt the most. This time he wasn’t fast enough to block that hit, and a groan escaped him, trying not to twist with pain, not to give you more leverage. But no matter how much he had tried, he lost his balance and toppled over.

In this fall, he saw the opportunity to grab your wrists, as your grasp on his hair had weakened with your surprise. Twisting your fall he managed to pin you under him, but with a twist of your body you easily threw him off.

This time you were the one pinning him to the ground, but due to the difference in strength he overpowers you once again. And you both continued to tumble through the dirt, your nimbleness winning over his strength, but his strength overpowering yours.

At some point you both just flopped onto the ground beside each other, tiredness winning this contest. Didn’t mean you stopped yourself from sending a light kick his way, as a way to still claim victory if anyone asks. And he didn’t kick you back, rather he drove his elbow into yours with purpose, hitting the funny bone.

A groan escaped you and you held your arm close to your chest, glaring at his satisfied smirk.

“Looks like I still won, princess,” he declared and sat up with a swing.

“You only won because you fought dirty.” You acted as if you weren’t the one who had initiated this whole brawl to begin with, as if you weren’t the one playing dirty in the first place.

“Tch, keep thinking that, you’re just mad you didn’t win,” he shot back. He stood up and had started doing stretches to cool down, and you couldn’t help but to watch the way his back bends, the way his muscles shift smoothly underneath his linen shirt, grime plastered all over it. “And, there is no dirty fight in a war, m’lady.”

You scoffed because despite the form of address, he was making fun of you for being naive, in his opinion. You were aware of that, yet there was nothing you could do to convince him otherwise, because for some people your skills didn’t matter, no matter how much you tried. Everything ran the same course, the same way. To them you were nothing but a pretty face, an asset to keep. Even if you had hoped it would be different once you proved yourself. But alas, the situation didn’t change, so you had to act like always.

Standing up, you began to go through your cool-down routine too, your back turned to him, because you didn’t know if you could school your facial expressions if he said anything again. Once you made sure your body had cooled down, you bowed down to pick up your sword, which was stuck in the mud a couple of meters away. Taking the weapon into your hand you quickly assessed the blade, considering cleaning it later before sheathing it. So with your sword in hand you walked the rest of the distance to the target to also pick up the ax you had thrown before the fight had broken out. This one you had to return.

Turning around to return it to its rightful place, you made eye contact with the Captain, whose face for once wasn’t etched in a scowl, but more calm, and you couldn’t help but frown at this rare sight. Your reaction seemed to break him out whatever stupor he had put himself into, and the used scowl returned, even if there was something different about it. But if you were going to be honest, you had no desire to discover what might have elicited that change in him, so you simply walked past him to the little hut where the weapons were stored, putting your ax back where you found it.

After you emerged from the storage, the Captain was gone already, you couldn’t help but look for him the moment you stepped out. You simply sighed at the disappearance, not understanding why it mattered that much, letting your gaze wander to the sky, to the evening blooming across the sky. And the red reminded you of a certain sparkle, of a certain intensity. Your heart shook inside your rib cage. You frowned, was your cool-down insufficient? With that you tried to distract yourself from the blazing fire, from the honey dripping.

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you

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