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feliix · 3 years

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Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung

↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)

↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 14.9k

↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.

↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships

“That's disgusting.”

You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone.

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.

You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.

In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.

But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls, it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.

“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot.

Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible.

The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air.

“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.

It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms.

The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.

But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time.

Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.

The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.

Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”

Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”

Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is.

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.

“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”

His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it.

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.

Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.

Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning.

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.

That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.

“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”

“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.”

If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.

Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view.

He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this.

The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache

“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.

“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”

“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm. What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.

Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.

When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.

“So, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.

“It was good.”

Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.

“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’

Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.

“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.

“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.

“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”

There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue.

“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”

The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.

Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t have to be so miserable about it anymore.

But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.

“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell.

If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.

That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got.

It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.

You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Jisung?”

“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.

“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles.

A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something.

It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.

His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.

The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop.

After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Jisung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Felix you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time.

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces.

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind.

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times.

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand.

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way.

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story.

Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him.

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen.

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely.

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate.

“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say.

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop.

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price.

“Y/N I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration.

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten.

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this.

Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh.

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts.

In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his.

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body. Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him.

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.”

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?”

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down.

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more.

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction.

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else.

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it.

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips.

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched.

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out.

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full.

You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Jisung.”

Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.

#stray kids smut #han jisung smut #kdiner #kwritersworldnet #stayracha #kafenetwork #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #han jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #jisung fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #han jisung x reader #skz jisung fanfic #jisung fanfic

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whisperlullaby · 3 years

Text

Team-Building

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Sam

Words: 2369

Warnings: Smut (18+only), oral (f and m receiving), threesome, explicit language

Summary: You are an HR receptionist lucky enough to be around each time Sam and Bucky come in to attend their mediation sessions. They want to apologize for making you stay late one night.

A/N: Written for my lovely @river-soul read over and confirmed it’s not trash by @syntheticavenger Gifs by @navybrat817 Minors please DO NOT INTERACT. This is my first time writing a threesome so be kind with feedback! If I missed any warnings let me know and PLEASE enjoy.

The ticking of the clock seemed to get louder as you become more impatient at the fact you were still at work well past closing. As an HR receptionist, it was your responsibility to process the paperwork involved in Steve giving Sam the shield. You had been working tirelessly, trying to get everything in order, and yet you couldn’t seem to get that last signature needed to finalize the transition. The bickering between Sam and Bucky was holding everything up. They had to go to HR at least once a day if not more to meet with the staff mediator, Emma. You were tasked with locking up the office and you couldn’t very well do that while there were people still in the building, no matter how tempting. Finally, you heard to door click open and each person filed out.

“Now, gentlemen, I hope this can be our last meeting.” Emma sighed, “Just try to find some common ground. Maybe find a hobby or activity you can do together. Kind of like team building.”

You chuckled listening to Emma. She was a complete angel coming in multiple times a day just to field the laundry list of complaints against the duo for their behavior. Your laughing drew in the attention of the pair and as Emma left, they stopped at your desk.

“Hey, there sugar what are you doing here so late?” Sam cocked his eyebrow leaning on your desk.

“Well, Sam there are these two idiots who keep getting into shit with the rest of the team and have late end-of-the-day mediations. Guess who can’t close up the office until those sessions end, and everyone leaves the building?” You teased.

“Doll, I don’t think it’s nice to call Emma an idiot. Sam sure, but Emma? She’s a saint. Has to put up with that asshole.” Bucky gestured to Sam with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You have known Sam and Bucky for a few months now since they started coming into HR for their mediation. At first, it was polite hello’s given before they bickered their way out of the office. Soon they began to hang over your desk as you finished up tasks and walked you to your car almost nightly. Sam would occasionally bring you your favorite coffee, and as if to one-up him, Bucky would bring you your favorite flowers. He would tell you they would last much longer than some silly coffee.

They stayed close to your desk as you went about locking up, watching you closely and sharing knowing glances. You squinted your eyes suspiciously at the two of them and when you finally managed to shoo them out of the building to lock up, they followed you to your car.

“So, any plans tonight?” Sam asked throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Just going home, ordering take out, and drinking copious amounts of wine. What about you guys? Gonna find out if you have any hobby’s in common?” You laugh, shrugging off Sam’s shoulder as Bucky grabbed your hand.

“Oh I don’t think Sam and I have much in common outside of enjoying your company.” Bucky brought your hand to his face and gave it a kiss. “How about you let us treat you to dinner?”

You smiled at Bucky and looked over at Sam who could hardly contain his amusement.

“If you guys behave. I’m not about to referee a fight between the two of you. It’s been a long enough week as it is.”

“Don’t worry honey, we’ll be on our best behavior and who knows. Maybe you’ll let us eat out with you more often.” Sam gave you a cheeky grin.

You gave Sam a confused look, “Right, except we’re eating in. I’ve had enough of people I just want a relaxing night at home.”

“Don’t worry doll, we’ll help you relax.” Bucky winked at you.

You gave them your address and told them to give you an hour. After you picked up more wine at the liquor store, you sent Sam a text to pick up the food and headed back home. When you got home you frantically ran around and cleaned up as best as you could. You changed into some shorts and a tank top just in time to hear knocking at your door. Pulling it open revealed Sam and Bucky leaning against the door jam holding bags of Chinese food.

“Jeeze guys did you order enough food?” You stepped aside letting them in.

Sam planted a kiss on your forehead and went into the kitchen. “Gotta make sure we get your energy up after you had to deal with two of the most exhausting people all week.”

Bucky followed Sam after pulling you into a hug.”Sam, I think I said earlier that it’s not nice to talk about Emma like that when all she’s trying to do is help you.”

You went into the kitchen to pull wine glasses down from the top shelf. Normally when it was just you, you would drink directly from the bottle. Why dirty another dish? As you reached up on your tiptoes you felt your tanktop slide up your body. After struggling to try to reach the glasses, you felt a warm hand on your exposed hip and a heavy body press behind you.

“If you needed help reaching something honey you could have just asked,” Sam whispered low in your ear as he grabbed the glasses and placed them next to you on the counter.

He released your hip and turned to grab the wine. You were still facing the counter trying to slow your breathing. When you turned around you were face to face with Bucky as he reached behind you to grab the glasses.

“We kind of need the glasses doll, or are you hoarding them all for yourself?” Bucky leaned forward, caging you against the counter. You heard the faint clinking of the glasses as Bucky grabbed them never once breaking eye contact with you.

“Um yeah, you guys help yourselves I’ll be right back.”

You ran into the bathroom and splashed water on your face. You had to be imagining things, right? Sam and Bucky who came to professional couples counseling weekly were in your home and getting very close. Did they notice how you looked at them each time they came into the office? You had to have been caught staring at Sam’s ass on more than one occasion with the amount you did it. You lost count of the number of times you had to have Bucky repeat what he just said because you got lost in the low gravel of his voice. The jig was up. They were definitely onto you and they were going to tease you mercilessly for it, you were sure of it.

When you came out of the bathroom Sam and Bucky were in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones. At the creek of the floor under you, they snapped their attention in your direction. They slowly started making their way over to you, their eyes glued to your body.

“Oh sweetheart, were we making you uncomfortable?” Bucky smirked.

“I know Bucky can be intimidating but you didn’t have to go getting all wet on his account.” Sam gestured to your chest.

You tilted your head in confusion and looked down. When you splashed the water on your face you must have overdone it seeing as the entire front of your shirt was soaked through, putting your nipples on full display.

“I am so sorry,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m going to go put on a dry shirt I’ll be right back.”

You ran into your bedroom and quickly sifted through the drawers to find another shirt to wear. As you took off the offensive tank top you heard the door to your room creak open and saw Sam and Bucky watching you.

“You know sugar, Emma had told us to find something we had in common. Something we could do together that we both enjoyed. Called it ‘team-building’,” Sam walked over to you and brushed his fingers over your cheek.

“We thought she was out of her mind suggesting it. What could we possibly have in common?” Bucky moved behind you, circling his arms around your hips pressing soft kisses into your neck.

Sam brought his finger under your chin and lifted your head to meet his warm brown eyes.

“We finally figured it out. We have you in common. We can’t stop thinking about you and we’ve noticed how you look at us. You want us too right?”

You let out a small whine and nodded, “Yes, I can’t stop thinking about you two.” Bucky smiled into your neck. “Yeah doll? When do you think about us? When you touch yourself?”

His warm breath on your neck made you shiver. Your nipples pebbled and Sam brought his hands to your chest, gently massaging the soft skin. You moaned at the sensation and Sam pinched your nipples intensifying the feeling.

“I think the tin man asked you a question honey, why don’t you answer him?” Sam cooed.

Bucky growled at the statement and you could feel your arousal pool in your panties.

“Yes,” you whimpered, “I touch myself when I think of you two.”

Sam hooked his fingers in the hem of your shorts pulling them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely bare to the two men. Bucky gripped your wrists and moved them down to your core.

“Show us how you touch yourself doll.” Bucky placed nips and kisses along your shoulder.

You started making slow circles on your clit, throwing your head back into Bucky’s chest. You dip one finger inside your wet channel slowly, sighing with relief. As you continue your ministrations Bucky moves his hands over your breast groping them. You were about to add another finger when you felt Sam grip your wrist pulling your hand away from your core. You looked down at him to watch as he took your fingers into his mouth to suck them clean.

“You taste so good, honey.” Sam hummed before he gripped the back of your thigh and lifted it over his shoulder. He held your ass as he pressed his face into your dripping core licking a stripe straight to your clit. He sucked on the bundle of nerves while Bucky continued to leave marks on your neck. Sam added two fingers into you and expertly stroked your sweet spot.

“Come on doll, fall apart for Sam. Cum for him so I can make you scream my name next.” Bucky pinched your nipples and your orgasm rushed through you.

Sam worked you through your orgasm licking up all your release. When he stood up he stripped off his shirt exposing his chiseled torso. He removed his pants letting his hardened cock slap his stomach. Bucky released you as Sam moved forward to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You could hear more clothes dropping to the ground and when you turned your head Bucky was on full display, the metal of his arm glimmering in the moonlight. Bucky smoothed his hand across your cheek tilting your face to meet his for a soft kiss. Pushing Sam away from you, Bucky guided you to the bed to lay you down.

“I can’t wait anymore sweetheart I have to feel you around my cock” Bucky lined himself up. Before he could push in, you felt the bed dip and saw Sam stroking himself next to you. You licked your lips and reached for him. Before you reached him, Bucky flipped you on all fours and guided your hips back, his length slowly spearing you. You moaned at the full sensation as Bucky bottomed out stilling for a moment.

Sam positioned himself in front of you, “Come on sugar, I want to see what that mouth can do.”

You opened your mouth and licked the pre-cum off before wrapping your lips around his length and hollowing out your cheeks. Sam pushed himself in until you felt him touch the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly as he moaned.

“Sam, do that again, she squeezed the shit out of me.” Bucky smacked your ass causing you to move forward taking in more of Sam, humming with satisfaction.

“Shit, I’ll do that again if you keep that up. The mouth on her feels like heaven”

Bucky started thrusting in and out of you ravenously. Each time your hips met, you took Sam deeper down your throat, drool running out of your mouth coating his cock. Sam pulled your hair causing you to whimper, the sound only spurred both men on. Bucky brought his metal hand down to your clit, pinching it.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me doll? Make a mess of my cock.”

You nodded and Sam groaned pinching one of your nipples.

“Fuck sugar, you’re gonna make me cum. Can I cum down your throat?”

You hummed with approval as Sam fucked your throat. You felt hot ropes fill your mouth and you tried to make sure you took everything Sam had to give you. Bucky continued to fuck you as your own orgasm hit you causing you to cry out his name. His hips stuttered as he reached his own release.

“Told ya she’d be screaming my name bird brain.” Bucky teased as you fell onto the mattress.

“Well, that’s because her mouth was full and our girl knows better than to talk with her mouth full, isn’t that right honey.” Sam brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your cheek.

You hummed in contentment completely fucked out. Bucky got up to get a washcloth to clean you up as Sam soothed his fingers down your back.

“You hungry doll? We did get enough food for a small army and I know you’re gonna need your energy.” Bucky stated nonchalantly.

You sat up and looked at Bucky with your eyebrows pinched together.

“Why would I need my energy?”

Sam pulled you to his chest, “Oh honey, you didn’t think that was the only round did you?”

#sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam x bucky x reader #marvel

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Abusive boyfriend w/ Midoriya, Bakugou and Todoroki

Request: Can I have deku, bakugo and Todoroki reacting to the readers unhealthy boyfriend. He brings her down a lot and abusive. - anonymous

Being part of a toxic relationship is so so soooo painful. Thankfully reader-chan has her heroes to save her. Hope you like it. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: abuse both physical and mental, ptsd and panic attacks, cursing, characters are aged up (they have graduated)

Midoriya Izuku

-Okay so he basically was the one who managed to build your confidence back up after the horrendous break up with your ex.

-Your ex never laid a hand on you but his words were enough to bruise your ego and self worth so much that you believed that you were nothing compared to others.

-From looks to personality, you believed that even a snail was more worth it than you.

-Now you are a beautiful girl and very very smart.

-Guys and girls looked your way even though you were in a relationship.

-And your ex was having none of it.

-It started off really subtly.

- “Are you sure you want to wear that to dinner?”

- “We are going to grab some coffee not going out for drinks.”

- “Don’t you think you are showing too much skin?”

-Then the body shaming started.

- “I think you shouldn’t wear that, I mean look how large it makes you look.”

- “Have you been eating more?”

- “How about I make a diet for you?”

-This really brought you down.

-It reached the point where you would only wear really baggy hoodies in order to hide your body.

-After that turning point he still wasn’t satisfied.

-People, although fewer than before, still had the nerve to hit on you and it was getting on his nerve.

-He started belittling you in front of friends and acquaintances, destroying your already fragile confidence.

-He had dug you a grave and sugarcoated the casket with empty I love you’s.

-He had made you believe that he was the only one who would accept you and love you despite you’re so flawed.

-And he managed to keep you for quite some time.

-Then Midoriya comes along.

-A childhood friend who had become a pro hero and on the top five.

-He saw how skinny you had become, borderline unhealthy, how you shied away from him and literally everyone.

-You were like a scared deer.

-Then the boyfriend came in and everything fell into place.

-Midoriya is smart, he caught on your boyfriend’s belittlement and the reason behind it.

-Now getting you out of this toxic relationship is his new mission.

-You ran into him more often after that first encounter and he always talked to you, complimenting you whenever he could.

-Your boyfriend didn’t catch on until it was too late.

-Midoriya had managed to get you to talk about your relationship and what your boyfriend was like, he had opened your eyes to his abuse and helped you built up the courage to stand up to him and dump his ass.

-He was there of course to support you after the break up.

-And of course after months and months of seeing each other almost everyday, you two became a thing.

-Finally you get to experience true love with someone who truly appreciates you.

Bakugou Katsuki

-You and Bakugou have been friends since high school.

-Inseparable.

-He comes to you for everything, all his troubles are solved by you and you alone.

-You’re special!!

-So when you get a boyfriend he is the first to meet the guy.

-In truth he really didn’t want to because he has been in lobe with you for the longest time and seeing you with someone else reminds him that he is a coward.

-Anyway he meets him and everything is fine, he looks decent and he seems to treat you well.

-As months pass you seem to distance yourself more and more from him.

-Bakugou at first is angry, he is fuming I tell you.

-He doesn’t like the silence that he receives when he calls, or the single word replies when he texts and he especially despises your refusal to go out with him like you used to.

-He gets that you have a boyfriend now and you have to spend more time with your bf but he still felt betrayed.

-Then doubt started to settle in his mind.

-Maybe you realized he wasn’t worth the trouble, I mean he is a difficult person, maybe your new boyfriend opened your eyes and now you want nothing to do with him.

-Or maybe you figured out he was in love with you.

-Had he been scowling more than usual while he was meeting your boyfriend?

-He wanted to ask you what he did wrong but he couldn’t reach you.

-So he sucked it up and drowned himself in his hero work, drowning his nagging mind along with his free time.

-Then something unexpected happened.

-Uraraka visited him, worry written all over her face.

-She was worried for you and wanted to ask him if everything was alright, since he was your best friend.

- “She stopped showing up to our weekly girl evening and she won’t answer my texts.... I’m really worried for her Bakugou.”

-That was the last straw for him.

-He went to your apartment and after five minutes of knocking your boyfriend opened the door.

-The scowls on the guy’s face was really REALLY pushing his buttons.

- “Is Y/N here?”

- “What do you want her for?”

- “I want to talk to her.”

-This man..... he closed the door in Bakugou’s face.

-Well closed is putting it mildly.

-He slammed the door shut with so much force that a mirror down the hall rattled.

-Bakugou was ready to blow the door open when he heard the shouts.

- “Y/N why the fuck is that guy here?”

- “W-what guy?”

- “Don’t act all innocent you slut! The guy you are fucking!”

- “I-I don’t k-know who y-you are talking a-about.”

-The moment he heard your sniffles echo through the door he was inside the apartment shoving the guy away from you.

- “Don’t you fucking dare speak to her like that, asshole.”

-You were trembling behind him and Bakugou could feel the sob threatening to escape your lips.

-Looking over his shoulder at you he spoke gently as if you were a scared kitten.

- “Y/N could you go get some of your stuff ready? I’m taking you away from this dickhead.”

- “Who do you think you are? That’s MY girlfriend she listens to me alone!”

- “Don’t speak as if she’s an object!”

-You had disappeared to your room to get your things and were now clinging to Bakugou’s back.

- “So you are fucking him. What should I have expected from a whore like you!”

-Okay now Bakugou was presented with two options.

-Option A: beat the living shit out of this guy and most likely losing his hero license for a week.

-Option B: get you out of here and let this asshole boil in his own defeat.

-He went with option B.

-Wordlessly he guided you out of your apartment complex and into his car, drove you to his house and proceeded to help you calm down.

-You had had one panic attack in the past so he didn’t really know what to do.

-But he managed.

- “Whatever he said to you isn’t true. I don’t know what actually went down between you two and what he got into the pretty little head of your but none of that matters. Just know that we are all here for you. Me, the girls even stupid Deku. And we love you, I love you so don’t worry about anything. Everything will be alright.”

-From that point on everything was history.

-It didn’t take long for you two to start dating and Bakugou made sure to have a firm talk with your now ex boyfriend when you ran into him at the grocery store.

-Get wrecked douchebag.

Todoroki Shouto

-Toxic relationships is something Todoroki is a pro at this point.

-He grew up in one so yeah.

-He sees the signs of the abuse faster than anyone.

-First of all, you inch away from anyone who starts flaying their arms.

-Despite the warm weather you always wear long sleeves.

-And he has seen you applying extra make up around your eye once.

-He also notices how you always try to avoid annoying your boyfriend, like you take extreme measures.

-You distance yourself from other males going as far as to avoid him to an extent.

-Then he sees the bruises.

-You two were training at the agency’s gym when your shirt rode up your torso and there was this huge bruise right under your ribs.

- “Y/N who did this?”

- “Oh I just got slightly injured during my last patrol.”

-He isn’t buying it since he was with you during your last patrol and you didn’t get injured.

-But he lets it slide because he believes that you know whats best for you and you will get away from this guy.

-But for some reason you stay with him.

-For months.

-And Todo can’t take it anymore.

- “Y/N can I talk to you?”

-He talks to you about what he has seen and that he knows that your boyfriend is doing this to you.

- “So please, please leave him, get out while you can. Y/N I can’t see you hurt like this.”

-You see the thing was that you had made the stupid decision of moving in with him and now.... you had nowhere to go.

-If you broke up with him you wouldn’t have a place to stay and you couldn’t start searching for a new place, he traces your phone and search history.

- “You’ll live with me. I’ll give you everything you need just please please let go of him. He doesn’t deserve you. I hate seeing you so hurt and broken.”

- “Please come with me then, Shouto I-I can’t do this alone.”

-Of course he came with you, standing in between you and that asshole as he went to strike you when you broke the news to him.

- “You are leaving me for this piece of shit huh? Of course you would you whore!”

-He went as far as activating his quirk, attacking Shouto in an attempt to get to you.

- “I own you you fucking slut! No one will want you! You are mine!”

-Shouto wasn’t as calm as Bakugou in this situation, punching the guy before leaving the apartment, making sure that the guy got the message and wouldn’t try to come after you.

-Back at his apartment, Shouto comforted you as best he could.

-You know where this leads.

-Shouto gives you the space you need before making a move.

-My mans waits months before even remotely flirting with you.

-After a year long wait he finally manages to ask you out.

-And the rest is history.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @dnarez-mangetsu @reinyrei @bemorefiction

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emimothvine · 4 years

Text

📁 for the fuckboy anon.

TW: toxic relationships and abuse

Bakugou has a distorted understanding of romance.

His mother is always loud, always pushing and pushing and pushing until she gets what she wants. She’s violent; she’s crass; she hits her husband when she gets mad because it makes her feel powerful, hits her son because that’s just what you’re supposed to do with shitty kids like him, right?

His father is quiet. Unassuming. No one expects much of him, and that’s exactly how he likes it. Honesty eludes him; manipulation is his friend. He lies to his wife when she asks him where he was last night, lies to his son when he asks why his mother hurts him like she hates him.

Bakugou also wants to be the best. He loves a challenge, thrives in spite and winning and the thrill of proving people wrong. So when his friends start teasing him about his lack of romantic life, he takes it like the bait it was never meant to be.

Long story short, Bakugou gets into a toxic relationship.

It’s a general studies girl. She’s been approaching him, flirting with him, constantly for weeks. He’s told her no, told her to fuck off multiple times, but she’s kept at it. And that’s a good thing, right? Admirable. It means she’s serious, persistent, stubborn, strong. Just like his mother was when she’d gone after his dad. This is how relationships work, isn’t it?

Bakugou thinks so. So when she corners him outside the locker room for the fiftieth time, he tells her yes - just two days after his squad’s teasing. The two go on their first date that weekend, and Bakugou tells the squad the following Monday.

They look shocked, and weirdly enough, not nearly as happy about this new development as Bakugou had anticipated. But they’re supportive, despite their strained smiles.

Bakugou keeps going out with this girl. He doesn’t like it much, but he made a commitment and damn him if he’s going to back out now. For a while, she sits with him and the squad at lunch, always clinging to his arm and demanding a share of his food even though she knows she can’t handle the spice. Bakugou honestly thinks it’s cute how she pushes past her limits like that, finds it refreshing how she isn’t afraid to throw his shit right back at him when he’s being a dick.

(The class is always weirdly nice to him when he fucks up, but she isn’t; she tells him when he’s being lazy or stupid or mean and it’s familiar. It makes sense. He listens when she tells him to shut up because his laugh is too ugly, to stay still when she kisses him even if he doesn’t want to. He listens because that’s what you’re supposed to do in relationships, and he always gives his best no matter what.)

(His friends... don’t seem to like her very much. He doesn’t know why.)

She starts dragging him away during lunches. Bakugou supposes it makes sense; they’re dating, so they’re supposed to spend a lot of time together. She gets angry at him when he doesn’t text her back right away, and a lot of their dates are scheduled on the same days as Bakusquad hangouts. When Bakugou tries to back out, to explain, she pushes and pushes and pushes, and he lets her.

(His mom is happy with him, too. He let it slip that he got a girlfriend, and she called him brat and ruffled his hair like she hasn’t in years. You’re lucky she has shit taste, she said, told him not to scare her away by being a pest.)

(And quietly, secretly, he wants her to look at him like that again. Like he’s worth something. He wants her to smile at him more and pet his hair and love him, just a little bit. So he keeps at it, keeps going out with this girl as she tells him to stop talking so much and don’t smile, you look like a lunatic and it’s just a hickey, Suki, don’t be such a prude.)

He comes to class and he can’t look anyone in the eye, because he knows they see the marks on his neck and his face. The imprints of teeth and bruises and little crescent moons on his cheeks and his jaw and his nape from her fingernails. She likes to dig them into his face to get his attention, into his neck to keep him still while she kisses him. (It’s almost worse than the hickeys, because they’re proof of how often he fucks up, how often she needs to set him straight.)

She slaps him sometimes, when he’s done something especially shitty - ignored her for too long, said the wrong thing. Sometimes she’ll ignore him for a few days, when she’s tired of dealing with his shit, but she always comes back. She’s nice about it too - doesn’t make him drag himself out to apologize like his mom does.

Meanwhile, his classmates, his friends, his teachers are just. So concerned. Fucking enraged. Bakugou has become subdued in a way that they have never seen before, and Deku, for his part, is terrified and furious. This girl walks all over his Kacchan and he just lets her, and for the life of him Deku can’t figure out why.

(Once, at lunch, when she and Bakugou were still sitting with them in the cafeteria, she told Bakugou to laugh quieter, it’s gross and everyone can hear you. And he’d just listened. That wide, rare, precious grin had been wiped right off his face and he’d quieted down instantly. No one had said anything out of pure shock.)

(Kirishima, Mina, the rest of the squad, Deku, Uraraka, hell even Todoroki - they were seething. Because Bakugou rarely, rarely let himself laugh like that - hell, all of them sans Deku could count on one hand the times they’d seen his little happy-smile - and this bitch had destroyed those few precious seconds of genuine, carefree laughter because she was fucking self-conscious. If they could kill people with a look, half the goddamn class would have been charged with murder.)

They all hate her. They want to grab Bakugou and shake him and tell him to break up with this bitch, but he doesn’t even have the time to talk to them anymore. The squad wants their Katsuki back, Deku wants his Kacchan back, the class wants their friend back. It’s been weeks. They don’t know what to do.

Their savior comes in the form of one Shinsou Hitoshi.

He’s been watching all this go down from afar, and it’s pissed him right off. He doesn’t know Bakugou that well, honestly thinks he’s a bit of an asshole, but he likes him. He cares about him. They spar occasionally (or they used to), and it’s grueling and fun and satisfying as shit.

There’s this... something in Bakugou. Too big and too bright to call a fire, too hot and too close to call the sun. And this girl - this toxic, abusive bitch - is smothering it, smothering him, and Shinsou is sick of it.

It’s week six of this bullshit and he does what no one has managed to do in all that time: he finds Bakugou and corners him - away from that toxic bitch he calls his girlfriend.

(Let’s all thank Aizawa for that one. Underground hero training is useful as shit.)

He confronts him about it - asks him, pointblank, “Why do you put up with her?”

And all he gets in response is the most genuinely bemused expression he’d ever seen on Bakugou’s face.

Something in Shinsou’s stomach drops.

“The fuck are you on about?”

“Your girlfriend, dipshit,” he says, like it’s obvious, because it is. “Why do you let her treat you like shit?”

Bemusement shifts into pure, unadulterated confusion, and that thing in Shinsou’s stomach falls right down to his feet.

“I don’t let her do shit, dumbass.” He almost sounds indignant. “Now outta my way, I got places to be.”

Bakugou lightly shoves past him, but Shinsou grabs his wrist before he can leave. The blond glances back at him in irritation. Pale, fluorescent light casts dramatic shadows across his face, darkens the marks and the bruises dotting fair skin.

Shinsou grits his teeth. “She hurts you.”

Bakugou doesn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, so?”

The brainwasher’s grip goes slack.

He doesn’t fully register that Bakugou has dislodged his arm until he’s standing alone in the hallway, but when he does, the first thought that crosses his mind is I have to tell dad.

(The thing about Shinsou is that he knows abuse. He knows what it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like, because he’s been through it himself. And yet for the longest time, he had no idea that what his foster parents were doing even constituted as wrong.)

(Then he met Aizawa, and he learned a few things. It fucking sucked, and for a while, nothing felt real and everything was wrong and he didn’t know what to do. But Aizawa was there for him, helped him through all the nitty-gritty-shitty parts of having your whole world turned inside-out, and lo-and-behold, Shinsou got adopted like four months ago.)

(But the point is, Shinsou isn’t an idiot. He knows this shit, he’s been through this shit, and the fact of the matter is that there is no way Bakugou would think that what he’s going through is okay unless he’s used to it. So what the fuck does Shinsou do now?)

(He goes to the man that pulled him out of the fire.)

(“Dad, I need to talk to you.”)

#I will FINISH this TRAVESTY #but TOMORROW because I am TIRED #seriously you fuckboy what the hell #this was supposed to be short #how did this even happen #bakusquad #toxic relationships #bakudeku #todobaku #kiribaku #platonic bakushin #dadzawa

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teacup-crow · 3 years

Text

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

#wolf 359 #bad things happen bingo #Daniel Jacobi #isabel lovelace #w359

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thebestworstidea · 3 years

Text

The Green Knight’s Lady (5)

Sequel fic to “The Witch and the Green Knight” (on Ao3)

Warnings: undeserved redemption arc, graphic imagery and bad behavior.

Chapter 1: In which Rowan has Unexpected House Guests

Chapter 2: In Which They Try to Figure Out What the Hell is Going On

Chapter 3: In Which Remus and Rowan’s Stupidity Escalates to Treason (sort of)

Chapter 4: In Which Life is Difficult

>-<>-< ——————-<>——————- >-<>-<

In Which Remus has an Argument with A Cat and Rowan makes some Charms

>-<>-< ——————-<>——————- >-<>-<

The day had been fairly calm, a lovely warm day in spring; so naturally, that couldn’t last.

“You!” Remus said, and pounced. There was a general clattering, and Rowan turned around to see that Remus had grabbed a hold of a large gray cat, who to his credit, was trying to twist and get a hold of Remus’s wrist, in spite of being mostly scruffed.

“Hey!” Rowan yelped. “Leave Mouse alone.”

“I will leave this little bugger alone as soon as he calms the fuck down and listens to me.” Remus retorted, shifting his hands as they got scratched. He yelped as Mouse sunk his teeth into a finger.

“Mouse!” Rowan said in a scolding voice, and the large cat subsided into a deep grating growl.

“Okay, Little Tree, bear with me a second okay?” he shifted his hands again, so he was supporting the cat under his forelegs. The cat mostly put up with it. “This little asshole-” Mouse gave another growl. “Is a cait sidhe. I don’t know how you missed it.’

“... no.” Rowan said, staring at the bright green eyes of her favorite cat. It was true she’d found him in the woods when he was a kitten. And it was true that he was half-feral, wandering off for weeks and sometimes months when it suited him. And that he was much bigger than the other cats, but she figured Mouse had some forest cat in him or something.

Something was apparently it.

“Mouse…” she said, exasperated, and she’d never seen a cat avoid her gaze quite like that.

“He’s been giving me shit since I started visiting.” Remus continued. “I can mostly understand him; better than normal animals, even. But… Danger Noodle.”

“Ah.” Rowan reached out and grabbed the back of Mouse’s neck, taking him from Remus and cradling him in her arms. He shifted about and put both paws on her shoulder as if he was about to jump. She tightened her hand around his neck. “Hold up, Mouse.” she murmured. “I’m not mad, honest.” Her thumb made little strokes against his dense short fur. He looked at her soulfully, giving an earnest ‘pathetic mew’. “Has that ever worked on me?” she demanded, and was surprised when he nodded. “Shit, you would remember wouldn’t you?”

Remus laughed, and Mouse’s tail lashed as she rolled him onto his back in her arms.

“Since you’ve been bothering the compost heap since we became friends, you know I trust him right?”

The cat hissed.

“Don’t take that tone with me, mister.” She said disapprovingly. “I need you to keep a secret.” The cat’s tail lashed back and forth a bit. Rowan kissed his nose, and he headbutted her affectionately, a purr starting. Remus watched this exchange in wonderment.

“I’m sure you can tell I’ve got another fae visitor right now. I bet you like his smell just as much as you like my green brother’s.” Mouse rubbed pointedly against her head, and grabbed a hold of the end of her braid. “But he’s kind of a refugee, so I need you to not tell anyone he’s here, okay? You’ve charmed enough butter and cream out of me to know I’ll reward you for it.”

Mouse thoughtfully groomed the end of her braid. Remus just stared at them both. Finally the cat shifted and head butted her again. This time Rowan let him hop down and he gave a big stretch to show how unimpressed he was, flicking his eyes up at Remus, who met them. Mouse strolled over- and peed on Remus’s boot before dashing off into the woods.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Remus yelled after him, and Rowan burst into laughter.

-@-

The world was an explosion of green, somewhere out underneath the rain that promised to continue right over May Day. Remus was off in the woods somewhere, and Rowan was working in her sunroom, Danger Noodle having hooked a small hammock from the ceiling and was glaring down at her with the air of a cranky king. She suspected it had more to do with the broad spectrum heat lamps than her presence.

“At least this is keeping the daisies down. This town is such an unnecessary hassle. They could have just accepted their inhuman overlords.”

“Yeah, humans aren’t good at that.” the witch said agreeably. “But we only grow daisies in the front yard. I don’t like the way they smell, and Mother’s always been sad you can’t really grow ‘crazy daisies’. They’re an ok ward, though I’ve been doing some experiments with resin jewelry with them.” she had a batch waiting to be strung actually, waiting for the spring markets. She wasn’t sure how well they’d work at warding fae, but they were pretty. She had another batch of flowers pressing. She’d gotten a few perfect blooms before the rain started, and any that broke could go in tea.

“So the entire back of your house is exposed to the forest?”

“Well if you ignore the wrought iron trellis and the rowan tree.” She countered. “Which you don’t.”

D.N. made a face at her. The copper kettle on the hotplate whistled, and she put aside her work to make tea. Rather than try to hand Danger Noodle a cup she ‘abandoned’ one near his perch with several lumps of sugar in it. Ignoring it, she hooked the heels of her boots into the rung on the stool and checked the pattern she was following once more, shifting threads back and forth, the soft clicking of bobbins almost as rhythmic as the rain. From time to time she’d mumble under her breath.

Finally she picked up small gold-plated scissors, and snipped it loose from the braiding tower, braiding the trailing ends together in a much simpler pattern.

“I haven’t made one of these since high-school.” She mumbled sucking on the ends to thread them through beads taken from small wooden boxes laid out on her worktable, before knotting them again, and offering it over to Danger Noodle. “Tie this around your wrist, looping three times. People looking to do you harm will look past you.” Rowan frowned. “Well, that’s what the charm is for. If you wear them too much, people will start looking past you no matter what.”

“Why would I need that?” he held it like it smelled bad.

“Because it’s witch magic, not fae magic. So people looking for fae magic won’t automatically notice it.” She shrugged. “Might make it safer for you to go with Remus.”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

“That’ll happen in it’s own time, I’m sure.”

The door to the outside opened, and Remus tromped in, soaking wet and covered in mud.

“Hello darlings!” he crowed.

“No don’t-” Rowan started, and D.N. just rolled into his canvas cocoon as Remus shook violently, watering the plants that grew along the sides of the sunroom.

And Rowan.

#willow is writing #the witch and the green knight #laoft recursive fic

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feliix · 4 years

Text

Crush Culture ✦ KTH (18+)

✦ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

✦ Rating: M ✦ Word Count: 14k (screams)

✦ Genre: fluff, angst, smut, fake dating!au

✦ Summary: Once summer hits and you return to work at the local ice cream shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of relationships and love, but it’s Taehyung’s mission to make you reconsider by the end of the summer.

✦ Warnings: childhood friends 2 lovers, idiots 2 lovers unprotected sex, fingering, pining, soft sex, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships, Tae is kinda a player but he turns out alright

✦ A/N: a big big thank you to the lovely @hobiance for helping me plan yet another fic and @jinned for giving me the much needed support and hyping me up until I finished my first long boi ilysm ♡ also thank you to my lovely beta @jinterlude who I would be completely illiterate without! the most beautiful banner you’ve ever seen is made by none other than my baby @koophoriia ily bunbunbun

Written for the BHQ Bangtan Boardwalk Collaboration

Taglist: @krystle1990 @imluckybitches

“Gross”

Another couple. Probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this evening alone. The shop is packed full of them on warm nights like this.

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t far from the truth. Relationships suck. Been there, done that.

You always keep the same theory; relationships either end in heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage can still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being dramatic,” Taehyung laughs after catching your snide remark from around the corner. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy, to say the least. The sun is setting, and it’s the perfect time for families and couples alike to come in and get a cold and tasty treat, especially on a day as hot as this one. It’s over 100º, and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Taehyung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath.

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss is kind of an asshole, leaving 2 ‘kids’ in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. Probably at the bar across the street, since his car is still parked in the back, but he’s nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than having him loom over your shoulder and critique your scooping texture the whole shift.

“Whatever you say,” Taehyung shakes his head.

Unlike yourself, Taehyung is a hopeless romantic, always looking for love in the wrong places. It always seems that his relationships never work out though, which has always confused you – Taehyung is a great guy.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left.

“Just under an hour, we should start the closing checklist so we can get outta here,” Tae responds as he reaches for the rag and sanitation bucket.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave at 8 o’clock on the dot. You’ll be damned if a customer comes in at 7:58, but there's always one Karen that comes as you’re about to lock the doors. You hate those Karens.

Lucky for you, closing tonight went as smoothly as it can go. You and Taehyung are ready to go at 8 on the dot, clocking out and locking up behind you.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Taehyung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was gonna go home and sleep…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. You know his eyes are much too convincing to look into, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Booooo you’re boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, turning around to meet his suggestive smirk. He knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to argue back with him. So you tilt your head, waiting for him to explain what he has in mind.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

And with that, you’re starting the ignition to your car and racing home, carefully, of course.

Taehyung is always spontaneous like this.

After making it home and rushing to get ready, Taehyung was there to pick you up, a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course. When you end up at your favorite boba spot, you know Taehyung wants to talk about something. He never wants to sit down at a place like this just for small talk, you’ve picked up on his signs and can read him like a book.

But when you finally get your drink and sit at your favorite table in the back corner, he doesn’t say much. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up. His eyes staring down at his drink instead of sipping it, hands rested in his lap with his lip caught between his teeth. It’s puzzling, slightly, you thought he wanted to hang out tonight and do something adventurous…

The awkward silence and lack of gestures from Taehyung is starting to make you uncomfortable, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“How are things going with that girl,” you ask before bringing the straw of your tea to your lips, sipping nonchalantly.

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “it didn’t really work out.”

When it comes to Taehyung, relationships never really seem to work out. To say it lightly, he is extremely picky. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that bit her nails.

Eventually, his pickiness has become a trend to the point that Taehyung will entertain a girl for a month or so. Then, he'll find something so minuscule within the said girl and turn it into a dealbreaker. The nit-picking things are way too much to move past for Taehyung. It’s clear that he is in search of the ‘perfect woman,’ like that even exists.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, is it really worth it to put all your effort into something like that? There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He’s taken back by your statement, his eyebrows furrowing in response as he waits for your answer.

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway?”

His question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Taehyung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and answer his question.

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your boba once again.

“Not all guys are dead-beats, you know.”

His words come out harsh, almost as if he finds your words offensive. Like you are meaning to group him in with all the guys you’ve dated in the past. Which is strange, Taehyung knows that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You can’t talk to guys, or most people like you talk to Taehyung. He’s the one you rant about the dead-beats to, along with everything else under the sun. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence Taehyung’s expression changes, his eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you see often, and you couldn’t say that you would ever be used to it.

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Taehyung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words leave his lips, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle leaves his lips. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’re crazy,” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do?”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Taehyung. And Taehyung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your tea from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“So you’re like dating dating?” Lainey’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on her face as you spill about your night with Taehyung.

Lainey is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Taehyung of course. Not that she shares the hatred herself, she just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know how you felt.

Along with Taehyung, Lainey is your best friend. And she’s the only person in this world that you can bear to work a double with on a Saturday.

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the scoops behind you. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday afternoon, not many customers have come in since you opened up at 11.

That’s the thing about working at an ice cream shop – it sucks when it's slow, and it sucks when it's busy. Though it isn't a miserable job, you at least have Tae and Lainey to keep you company.

The smirk on Lainey’s face hasn’t disappeared since you told her about Taehyung’s deal. She’s shocked that you actually agreed to something like this, especially since it’s with Taehyung. The same Taehyung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled like peaches.’ It’s only a matter of time until Taehyung finds your own deal-breaking trait.

“For the record,” you turn to look at Lainey, a grin still evident on her face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind.”

“Y/N,” Lainey whines as she draws out the last syllable of your name, plopping herself down in a chair to pout. “Stop being so…so…”

“So?”

Her face crinkles as she racks her brain for the word, rubbing her temples in hopes that it will come to her. Your eyebrow crooks in response, a slight chuckle leaving your lips as you wait.

“Pessimistic!” Lainey’s face lights up as it finally comes to her. She does have a point. It’s been a while since you actually let anyone in

“You know Taehyung, you never know, maybe something could happen,” her eyebrows lift at the end of her sentence, too suggestively for your own comfort.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. I know Taehyung, he’ll be over it in 2 weeks.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of her voice is raised teasingly. She doesn’t believe this will be a two-week thing.

Lainey has been friends with you and Taehyung for 4 summers now. Once she started working at the ice cream shop with you two it was an automatic connection. Letting her into your little clique with no hesitation, you quickly became 3 peas in a pod.

But Lainey sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You had grown up with Taehyung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Lainey, on the other hand, has a different point of view.

She sees the way Taehyung looks at you and how he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth. How he longs to make you laugh, watching you with a growing grin each time a chuckle passes through your lips. She notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is she to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in her mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the glass cover of the freezer beneath you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Taehyung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this.

“He’s picking me up after work”

“Oooh he’s picking you up?”

“Shut up,” your eyes roll at her teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy it’s making you. It’s just Taehyung, and you are just hanging out like you do every other night.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Lainey. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Taehyung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Taehyung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8pm. What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Taehyung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Taehyung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Taehyung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a manageable sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his own to light up and beam across the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the coffee ice cream stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth.

He dressed a lot nicer than usual attire; a dress shirt with a loose pair of slacks dressing his slim figure. His hair is light too, much different than the dark brown curls that frame his face. He’s really going all out for this – and you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and an ice cream stained t-shirt.

Lainey is just as stunned as you are, frozen in her spot with her jaw practically on the floor. She looks at you with wide eyes, her eyebrows raising as a smug expression crosses her face. You look in her direction, about to ask if she’s alright to finish closing on her own, but before you’re able to say anything she’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, he hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“As do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

An interesting yet on-brand response from Taehyung. He’s a big fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination seems long. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between the agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time All you know is that you’ve been driving through backroads for at least 15 minutes, and the destination doesn’t seem anywhere near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing such a great job illuminating things. Your eyebrow crooks unintentionally – this was it?

Your eyes wander outward as Taehyung parks the car, unable to see anything further than a 10-foot radius.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Taehyung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Taehyung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Taehyung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Taehyung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Taehyung is doing behind you…

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

Woah woah woah. It’s just Taehyung. Taehyung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Tae and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Taehyung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Taehyung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

The bundle of sunflowers Taehyung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the ice cream shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

“Sooooo,” Lainey teases, her chin falling into her palm as she leans on the freezer before her, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Taehyung chuckles at her nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told her all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Taehyung felt like the odd man out around you both.

“It was good.”

Taehyung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to her imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell or to not kiss and tell either. Things are better that way.

“Just good?” Lainey challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. Her eyes narrow as she waits for his response. You haven’t told her anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end.

Taehyung glances back at her, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans.It would be nice to have someone else to confide in since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this is the one secret that you can't know.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Lainey. Not that Taehyung is looking to pry, he just has no indication to how you feel about last night, or about him.

Before Taehyung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Lainey’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – she knows something.

“You like her,” she muses, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now, and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but clear as day to Lainey – and that is more than enough to make Taehyung worry.

“I don’t,” He denies her claim, his willpower too strong to give into her.

“Oh yeah? Why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

Her words catch Taehyung off guard, his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny her claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Lainey is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Taehyung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know?”

Was he really that obvious? Did it show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Taehyung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Lainey is just joking around. That she doesn’t actually know the one thing he’s been holding onto for so long.

She doesn’t have to respond for him to know the answer. The quirk of her eyebrow and knowing expression on her face says enough.

“Well you can’t tell her,” he sighs, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered floors. Lainey turns to look at him staring down in distress, a sympathetic glance directed at him. He’s worried you’ll find out.

You can’t find out. If you do, then all bets will be off. Once you know Taehyung’s feelings for you there is no way that you’ll let your little arrangement continue. He knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, or at least as far as you know.

Lainey bears her weight on the cooler behind her, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “I want her to be done with this ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” her fingers mock air quotes as she continues, “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Taehyung’s heart skips a beat as the words leave her mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers what she just said. He’s confused as to what she means. You agreed to fake-date him, but you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Lainey watching him as his lips roll between his teeth as he’s deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in his mind like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, for the right reasons; so that you won’t be so miserable. But behind those selfless reasons come with smaller selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too.

“Like you think…” he gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Lainey gives is ominous, but the raise of her eyebrows and toothy grin forming on her face needs no words to tell. If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Taehyung.

That night Taehyung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you can recall it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Taehyung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped 2 cones on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave them there without cleaning anything up. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Taehyung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Taehyung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got.

It’s been 12 days since you became Taehyung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night two when ice cream cones landed on the shop floor face down, sprinkles and all. Spending time with Taehyung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Taehyung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Taehyung experiences.

You like Taehyung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Taehyung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Taehyung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N” Lainey says waving a hand in your face. You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Tae?”

“What,” she catches you off guard, straightening your posture and brushing yourself off before responding to her, “no…just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from her lips, turning away from you as she wipes off a table in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Lainey out of the loop during this whole fake-boyfriend Taehyung thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Lainey the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. What if you are just in the honeymoon-phase? If these feelings for Taehyung are only because he’s trying his best to woo you, and then they’ll just fade away as things return back to normal.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Lainey for her to know. Every time Tae picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide she’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Lainey’s eyes. She knows you too well to look over things like this, she just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Lainey has decided to take matters into her own hands, asking you about it herself.

“Lainey,” you start, waiting for her attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for her to follow suit. She does, a questioning but knowing look evident on her face as she joins you. “You know how this thing between Taehyung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

She nods in response, her hand quickly falling into her palm as she listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

Her question is more for clarification, she wants to hear you say it herself. She knows that you’re gonna tell her you caught feelings. She sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the ice cream cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at her. You can feel the grin on her face. You know she's smirking at you right now, doing her best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you got over your ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” she sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face her.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Lainey hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on her face can't grow any larger, but it does. She jumps up from her chair in victory, doing a funny dance with her arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Lainey smiles, her happy dance subsiding as she sits back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.”

Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring outlining each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the girl sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Lainey’s your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Taehyung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be.

Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face, falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles.

A sympathetic sigh leaves Lainey’s lips as she tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face her – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank God it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Taehyung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something.

It’s not until Lainey is rising from her seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Taehyung,” she starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-What’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Lainey is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. She doesn’t want to speak for you; but she’s scared of saying something that can make this situation worse.

Her mouth gapes as she searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing and she hums to find the right words. They don’t come.

The umbrella hanging from Taehyung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Lainey as she jumps at the sudden sound. But before she is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Taehyung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Taehyung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Lainey. She’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an ice cream shop.

After Taehyung left she came back and let you know; she almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let her in. She told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Taehyung; to think about him.

When you agreed to be Taehyung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Taehyung. He’s your personal diary, the one who knows all the shit that nobody else knows and listens to all the shit that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Taehyung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Taehyung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Taehyung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Taehyung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Taehyung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

The door cracks open, Lainey standing there with an umbrella in her hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

She pushes past you and to your living room, plopping down on your couch and making herself comfortable as she waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to her, plopping down beside her.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as she hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Taehyung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves her lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was she giving it to you, why was she here, and why did she have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” She says sternly, her eyes locked on you as she waits for you to look back at her. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Taehyung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Taehyung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves her mouth gently, a sigh following it before she reached for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Lainey,” you let out an annoyed sigh, “you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to him. If you could, you would, but you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” she sighs, this time more forceful, she’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.”

Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” she mumbles, her eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped.

Eyes wide with confusion, they’re begging her to go on, but if she does then Taehyung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. You can’t know what she knows.

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” she stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Lainey is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Taehyung’s blue umbrella.

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Taehyung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Taehyung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Taehyung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Taehyung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story.

Taehyung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Taehyung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never pries.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him.

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate.

“Taehyung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say.

“Me too.”

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Taehyung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop.

“Y/N, I have feelings for you.”

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Taehyung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing.

Taehyung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Taehyung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Taehyung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten.

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this.

Slowly, Taehyung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh.

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts.

In a leisurely motion, Taehyung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Taehyung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

“Like what you see?” Taehyung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him.

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologize,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen each other naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Taehyung this way before.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?”

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Taehyung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Taehyung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Luckily, Taehyung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With your body finally relaxing, Taehyung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

In one swift motion, Taehyung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction.

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Taehyung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Taehyung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it.

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

Taehyung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out.

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Taehyung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Taehyung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Taehyung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge.

Taehyung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full.

You’ve always felt close to Taehyung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Taehyung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still confident. His tone doesn’t falter.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Taehyung.”

Crush culture once made you want to spill your guts. Every guy sucked, relationships were stupid and love was a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Taehyung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right in front of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

#bb2020 #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #smutcentralnet #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #cypherwritersnet #winterbearnet #kpopuniversenet #taehyung x reader #kth smut #kth fluff #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfiction

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch47: The Terrible Twos Part 2: Fuck off, Clown.

Intro: In the fourth year since the snap, Jamie enters the terrible twos.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So this chapter is kind of a little different to the others here really, as it’s almost like a collection of long drabbles detailing their life over 2022. And just a little reminded, Phobias, Steve admits to Katie he has a fear of clowns…keep that in mind! @angrybirdcr really did outdo herself with these edits too...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 48 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

September 2022

“Mom.” Emmy’s voice was soft and Katie instantly looked up from her laptop. “Where’s Dad?” “He’s gone for a run, well as much of a run as he can with Jamie hanging off his back.” Katie said, frowning slightly as she saw her fifteen year old daughter wasn’t dressed for school. “Is everything ok? I can call him.” “No, it’s fine. It’s you I wanted to talk to.” Emmy hovered from one foot to the other. “I err…”

She looked down at her feet, a huge flush on her face. Katie closed her laptop and stood up. “Em, what’s wrong?” “I think I, well, no I know I err… I started my period and…” “Oh, Sweetie.” Katie chuckled slightly as she wrapped the girl into a hug. “You feeling okay?”

“Erm, I got cramps and I’m really tired.” Emmy mumbled, her cheek pressed against Katie’s shoulder “And, I err, I got some on the sheets.”

Katie smoothed back Emmy’s hair and shrugged “It’s no big deal. I’ll get you some painkillers and why don’t you go have a bath, I’ll sort your bed and then we’ll sit and watch shit on TV all day. I can stay home.”

Emmy nodded eagerly, and peered up at her mom. “Snacks?”

“Dur.”

“Thanks Mom.” Emmy hugged her tight.

“It’s okay, I know how it feels. And, just for the record, beinga woman sucks at times but other times it’s kinda cool.”

“Cool?” Emmy frowned, stepping back a little.

“Yeah, you get boobs.” Katie gestured to her chest “They tend to fascinate most men.”

Katie followed her daughter upstairs where Emmy retreated into the bathroom, whilst Katie found her some pads before she stripped the sheets down and headed to the utility room at the side of the kitchen that held their washing machines and dryer. She was just turning the machine on when the door opened and Steve stepped in, Jamie on his back, giggling away. Steve’s face was red from the brisk November air and the part of Jamie’s cheeks which were visible from beneath his hat and above his scarf were also tinged pink a little.

“Laugh it up, Pal.” Steve shook his head, as he bent down so Jamie could slide off his back “That’s the last time I’m taking you.” “You said that yesterday, and the day before.” Katie smirked, taking the kiss Steve offered, ignoring Jamie’s noise of disgust. “You love it.”

“Hmmm.” Steve made a non-committal noise in his throat. “Any breakfast going or shall I start some?” “Go get a shower and I’ll make it. We can eat together when Emmy’s out of the bath.”

Steve frowned “Shouldn’t she be on the bus?”

“She’s not feeling too good.” Katie shook her head. “I told her I’d stay home with her, today.”

Steve’s frown deepened as he shrugged off his running jacket. “What’s wrong with her? She sick?” “It’s nothing a day in front of the TV, a heat pad and a blanket can’t fix.” Katie gave him a significant look. As ever it took him a while to cotton on, but when he realised what she was saying, Katie really had to bite back the laugh as his face rearranged itself into a look of surprise, which flickered to pure dumbfoundedness as he struggled for a reply.

“Don’t worry, I got it.” She grinned, patting his chest.

“Momma?” A voice came from the kitchen and Katie turned to face Jamie who was stood by the fridge “I’m hungry.” “Yeah, I’m gonna start breakfast now, baby.” she smiled, “Eggs and toast ok?” “Nomm!” He grinned as he padded over to the table and pulled himself up into a seat. Steve had to give a snort, without his seat he could barely see over the top of the table. He made his way over, lifted Jamie easily with one hand causing the boy to cackle before he replaced him back on the booster and scooted him closer.

“That better?” He asked, dropping a kiss to his son’s head.

“Fankoo, daddy.” he grinned.

“You’re welcome, Buddy.” Steve said straightening up. He turned to Katie “I’m gonna go shower then I’ll come help.”

Katie waved him away with a smile. He took the stairs two at a time and headed into their bedroom. If he was honest he’d been shitting himself about this day for ages. He’d watched Emmy grow up way too fast for his liking over the past few years and now, well he didn’t even want to think about the whole turning into a woman thing. All he knew was he was thankful for Katie’s level head.

He showered quickly, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a red plaid button down ready for his meetings that day and headed onto the landing, just as Emmy was emerging from the larger bathroom wrapped in a robe.

“Hey, Sweetie. Your Ma said you’re not feeling too good.”

She shrugged, “Not really.” “Will a hug help?” He asked and she smiled, nodding. He opened his arms and she stepped into them as he gave her a soft but firm snuggle.

“Thanks, dad.” she said softly.

“Any time, baby.” he dropped a kiss to her head. “Now I’d go get dressed if I were you, before your brother eats all the breakfast.”

*****

When Steve came back that evening, his girls were pretty much in the same spot they had been in all day. When he asked if they’d moved at all, Katie grinned and pointed out that they were both in clean sets of Pyjamas and Jamie was in bed, so of course they had moved, and that they were getting take-out for Dinner because she couldn’t be bothered to cook and it was Friday after all. With a good natured roll of his eyes, Steve cast one final look at them over his shoulder before he headed upstairs to change, leaving them to watch Love Actually. It was nowhere near Christmas, but he knew what they were like when it came to their soppy films, so he left them to it.

When he came back downstairs they were deep in conversation, so he paused for a moment at the door. He didn’t mean to listen in, but he didn’t want to interrupt. And if he was honest, there was something so pure and innocent about their chat that he simply couldn’t help it.

“You know, I still never forgave Adam Rickman for breaking Emma Thompson’s heart.” Katie sighed as Emmy scoffed.

“Has Dad ever bought you a really crappy gift?” she asked.

“No.” Katie replied. “He’s very thoughtful. Although the best gift he gave me wasn’t one he bought anyway.” “Your emerald?” Emmy asked, and Katie made a noise of affirmation. They fell silent for a moment before Emmy spoke again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“If anything happened to Dad, do you think you’d ever like date again?”

Steve frowned slightly as he heard Katie exhale “That’s deep Em. I dunno. I don’t think I’d ever be able to love another man the way I love Steve. In fact I know I wouldn’t. What on Earth made you ask that?” “Oh, Brooke is trying to get Jen dating but she keeps saying she loves Brooke’s dad too much and I kinda think it’s sad as he’s been dead for years. ” “Yeah, well, the thing is Em when you’re in love, and I mean truly in love, it consumes you. That person becomes as much a part of your life as you are and to lose them like that…well I can’t imagine what a hole that would leave in their place.”

“Yeah, suppose.” “You’ll figure that out soon enough.” Katie chuckled.

“Was Dad your first love?”

“He’s been the only man I’ve ever truly been in love with, yes.” Katie replied “For most people a first love and a true love are very different things.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, for instance my first love was a guy called Mikey, he was my first boyfriend. I wasn’t much older than you, dated him for about twelve months.” Katie mused. “He was the first guy I ever slept with. Then there was Grant and we don’t talk about him, ever as he was an asshole.”

Emmy gave a snort

“But your dad, well, he was different. We cared so much about each other before we even started dating. I mean, if I’m honest, I loved him way before he even asked me out.” “Who made the first move?” “He did.” Katie smirked and at that point Steve gave a scoff and walked into the room.

“Liar.” “Oh you so did!” Katie looked at him, unabashed he’d been listening. “You kissed me after Rumlow’s party. You’d have kissed me before that as well if you hadn’t been such a chicken shit.” Steve rolled his eyes and flopped onto the seat at the opposite side of the coffee table. “You didn’t exactly push me away.” “Dur.” It was Katie’s time to roll her eyes as Emmy snorted “I’d been waiting for you to make a move for months.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at her as the teenager quipped. “You were still a bit slow on the uptake back then I see.” “Err, less of your cheek young lady.” He shot back and she giggled.

“You know the first time we had sex he literally ripped my pants off.” Katie grinned at Steve and he pulled a face as Emmy cackled.

“Jesus, Doll.” He flushed bright red.

“Wasn’t the only time either.” “Okay,” Steve stood up with a sigh, shaking his head, as Emmy cackled. He wasn’t particularly keen on discussing his sex life with his fifteen year old kid. “I’m gonna get the Thai Menu.”

Katie watched him go before she winked at Emmy and stood up, following him into the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into his shoulder. “I love how after all this time I can still make you blush.” “You’re a damned nightmare.” He chuckled as his hands rest on top of hers, using them to pull her closer as he turned to face her.

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He smiled, dropping a kiss to her lips.

****

Steve didn’t quite rip Katie’s pants off that night, but it was still passionate enough to send them both into an orgasm induced sleep almost straight away. But Steve was a light sleeper, not as light as he had been once-upon-a-time, as sleeping besides his wife gave him a sense of peace. That said, his super-soldier hearing always woke him should something be out of place, so when he was pulled from his slumber it took him a while to realise that the soft voices he could hear downstairs was the TV. Knowing it could only be one person, he swung his legs out of bed and pulled on a sweater before he padded down the stairs.

“Emmy?” He asked gently as he opened the door to the living room. The teenager looked up from where she was sat, knees tucked up besides her.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugged and his sharp eyes didn’t miss the movement her hand made over her tummy. “And lying in bed was doing my head in.”

“Did you take anything?” Steve asked and she looked at him. “For the pain?”

“Oh,” she flushed slightly, “yeah, but it hasn’t worked yet.”

Steve nodded and headed into the kitchen, putting on the kettle. He made the pair of them a hot drink, stuck another heat-pack in the microwave and then paused as he passed the cupboard where he kept his secret stash.

Well, if this wasn’t an occasion it was called for then what was?

Emmy looked up as he walked back into the lounge. He placed the peppermint tea down on the table in front of her, before he passed her the heat pack and then wordlessly produced the Dairy Milk bar from his sweatpants pocket.

“You’re giving me your chocolate?” Emmy looked at him.

“Don’t tell your brother.” Steve said as he sat next to her, flopping his feet up on the coffee table.

She grinned and unwrapped the bar, offering him a piece which he took and shoved in his mouth.

“You’re pretty clued up on all this given you’re like a hundred and five.” She grinned cheekily

“Yeah well, I’ve been with your ma for ten years so I picked up a few tips.” He shrugged. She took a sip of her drink, rearranged her blanket and then picked up his arm so she could snuggle into him. He gently ran his hand over the back of her head as she got comfortable.

“What we watching?” He asked.

“Bad Boys.”

Steve chuckled. “I like this one. That is if I’m not too old to keep you company for a while?” “Nah.” She grinned as she placed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re good.” Katie found the pair of them flat out on the sofa the next morning, Emmy’s head propped up on a pillow as she snuggled up against Steve, her back pressed to his chest as the solider was stretched out down the sofa behind her, arms around his daughter as they slept.

****

October 2022

“All set?” Katie asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs as Steve walked back into the hall having loaded their bags into the car. They were heading off to Tony’s lake-house for a few days where he was throwing a bit of a Halloween party, nothing major but it was a chance for the kids to get dressed up in costumes and eat a load of candy whilst the adults could kick back and drink. Katie was looking forward to it for two reasons. Firstly, it was always nice to gather together with friends and family, well those of them that were left post snap-it made her feel normal, and she could push that persistent feeling of sadness that seemed to manifest on a daily basis, back down into the depth of her mind. And secondly, she was a little excited because she had no idea what Emmy or Jamie’s outfits were going to be.

Emmy had asked a month or so ago if she could be in charge of getting the pair of them costumes and Katie had agreed, simply handing over her card when she wanted to order whatever it was off the internet. She’d even resisted the urge to check her statement to see what it was, as Emmy had demanded she didn’t try and find out. Katie had a sneaking suspicion that Tony had also been involved in these costume choices, as the last time her brother had been over a few weeks ago, the pair of them had been huddled on the large arm chair, sniggering as they looked at something on Tony’s phone. With that in mind she was expecting Jamie to come down in some form of Iron Man or Captain America costume and she had every intention of filming Steve’s response.

“Yup. Locked and loaded.” Steve nodded, dropping a kiss to her cheek.”As soon as the kids are ready we can go.”

“No rush.” Katie shrugged, looking at her watch as they walked into the kitchen. “We don’t need to be there for a few hours.” She wrinkled her nose and slapped at Steve’s hand as he went to peek under the foil wrapped plate on the side. He sharply withdrew it and grinned at her.

“Tell me that’s a pie.”

“Apple and pumpkin, but it’s for the party.”

Steve pouted and she laughed and jerked her head behind her. “There’s another there as I knew you wouldn’t be able to wait.”

“You-” Steve pecked her lips “-are” another peck “-the best.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Captain.” She smirked as his lips hovered over hers and he deepened the kiss slightly, both his hands sliding down to give her ass a playful squeeze before he stepped back and walked over to his coveted prize. Steve peeled back the little cloth that was over the top and gave a little groan that was positively sinful as he inhaled the smell.

“Don’t eat that straight out of the pie dish,” Katie warned him as he made his way to the freezer for the ice cream, “I was gonna cut a few slices for the kids to munch on the way.”

“Then they can get their own.” Steve grumbled a little, but he grabbed a plate none the less.

“Oh yeah, where from?” Katie asked, her hands on her hips.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Steve muttered as he cut himself a huge slice of the coveted pie. He ladled a generous amount of vanilla ice cream on top then carried it over to the breakfast bar, sitting down as Katie gathered the rest of the food items she had said she would bring which included a huge dish of Mac and Cheese that she’d coloured green with food colouring, spaghetti and meatballs that were supposed to be worms, cinnamon and apple cookies in the shape of pumpkins and a batch of home-made raspberry and cherry gin which had been done using the raspberries and cherries from the brambles and trees in their small orchard at the bottom of the garden. She began packing it all into a hamper as Steve took the first bit of his pie and gave another groan.

“You know,” he swallowed, waving his fork at her as he gave her a playful grin, “I think this pie is actually better than sex.”

Katie looked at him, arching her eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“It’s a very close call.” He nodded.

“Well maybe I should make you a pie once a week instead of letting you get me on my back.” Katie looked at him, closing the lid on the basket and pushing it to one side, leaning over the breakfast bar.

“Okay, first off we have sex way more than once a week,” Steve pointed his fork at her, “and second-“ his eyes glinted cheekily “-you’re not always on your back.”

“True.” Katie pursed her lips and reached for his fork, snatching it from his hand, “but if you think I’m baking a pie more than once a week you’ve got another thing coming.” She used the fork to take a piece of the sweet treat along with a large blob of ice cream and shoved it in her mouth, closing her eyes. She moaned a little, ensuring that the noise that left her throat was as sinful as she could make it, before she opened her eyes and used her thumb to wipe at a little trickle of ice cream in the corner of her mouth. With her eyes locked on Steve she sucked her thumb clean and smirked a little at the familiar glint of dark in his eyes that he always got when he was turned on.

“You’re lucky you’re the other side of the breakfast bar.” He leaned forward a little, elbows resting on the marble surface, his voice a low timbre that sent those familiar sparks up Katie’s spine.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Katie asked innocently, ignoring the sudden flutter she’d felt between her legs at his tone.

“Because if you weren’t you be in my lap right now testing my theory.”

“Shame.” She nodded, looking around. “I mean it’s not like you could reach and drag me over it or anything.”

“Well I could,” Steve agreed, “but there’s a piece of pie in the way. And it’s too good to waste.”

“You’re a jerk!” Katie shook her head as Steve laughed, before he leaned back in the stool and patted his right thigh.

“C’mere pretty girl.”

Katie grinned, the sound of him calling her pretty girl always did things to her, as did the soft instruction to ‘come here’ in his Brooklyn accent. She rounded the bar and he reached out, easily pulling her onto his lap so she was perched sideways, legs hanging over the side of his right thigh as he curled his left arm around her waist, right gently resting on her thigh. Katie’s right arm slid round his neck and he titled his face to look at her.

“Just for the record you taste far better than any pie you make.” He grinned and Katie’s mouth fell open at his dirty comment.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” She snorted, slapping his shoulder slightly and he laughed, his hand on her thigh tightening its grip slightly, fingers curling round the toned muscles which were evident once more due to Katie having started training again. Steve actually kind of missed the softness that she’d had since having Jamie but he was damned if he was going to tell her that. He leaned towards her slightly, his nose bumping hers a little as she gently trailed her hand over the nape of his neck, nails scratching just below his hair line above the collar of his black sweater.

“Love you.” He muttered gently, his lips brushing hers and she smiled, her fingers tanging in the hair at the back of his head.

“More than apple pie?”

“Infinitely Mrs Rogers.”

“More than Mac and Cheese?”

Steve hesitated and Katie scoffed.

“For the record I love you more than anything.” Steve chuckled, pressing his lips to hers. “Well, apart from the kids.”

“I’ll accept that exception.” Katie chuckled, her mouth finding his again. The kiss deepened, Katie letting out a soft sigh as his tongue brushed against hers, tasting the apple pie and Ice Cream he had been eating before. Steve’s hand skated up the outside of her thigh coming to rest on her hip, finger tips brushing the strip of skin where her top had ridden up slightly as her own hand fisted slightly in his hair. Completely lost in one another they almost missed the little footsteps coming down the stairs and the giggles in the hallway.

Almost.

Steve pulled back, looking at Katie who grinned. “Play your cards right we can finish this later.”

“At Tony’s?”

“Won’t be the first time we fucked in his spare room.”

Steve snorted at her and patted her ass as she hopped off his lap.

“Mom, Dad!” Emmy called. “We’re ready!”

“We heard!” Katie called back as Steve stood up, grabbing his plate of pie. He took another bite before he wandered into the hallway where he collided with Katie who had stopped dead just outside the door. Frowning he looked up and felt his heart jump.

A clown.

His 2 year old son was dressed as a fucking clown.

And not just any clown, which would have been bad enough, but that bastard clown from IT. The film he refused time and time again to watch because of said bastard clown, which was now stood on the bottom step of the stairs holding a red balloon.

And suddenly, all he could see was that damned clown at Coney Island chasing him through the stalls, Bucky’s laughter echoing in his ears, and then that fucking mirror maze where he’d had the panic attack as he was surrounded by them.

The plate holding his precious pie slipped from his hand and dropped to the tiled floor, where it broke into 3 pieces, its contents splattering all over the grey slate.

“Woah, Dad, didn’t think it would be that scary!” Emmy grinned from behind Jamie as she stood in her outfit, which was a superb replica of the Wicked Witch of the West complete with full green face-paint and a broomstick.

Katie looked over her shoulder at Steve and she could see from his face that he was really struggling to keep it together. Trying not to laugh at the expression of sheer horror on his handsome features, she clamped her lips together and turned to Emmy.

“Your dad’s…” she took a deep breath, trying not to laugh “He’s scared of clowns.”

“Oh…” Emmy frowned “Uncle Tony said he would love it.”

“I bet he did.” Steve bit out a little harshly and Emmy looked at him.

“Are you mad?” She asked and seeing the look on her face Steve inwardly cursed his phobia and his damned brother in law.

“No, honey,” he shook his head, “not at all…you both look…” he trailed off.

“Daddy, look!” Jamie grinned, and he jumped off the bottom step. “Balloon!”

He toddled over towards Steve who automatically took a few steps back and Jamie stopped in front of him, right by Katie’s side, a confused expression crossing his painted face. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, pal…I gotta…” Steve exhaled “I gotta put some stuff in the car so we can to go to Uncle Nee’s okay?”

“Kay…” Jamie said a little quietly.

Katie watched, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter as Steve went to move round Jamie, turning sideways so he could keep his eyes on him, before he pushed past Emmy and bolted up the stairs taking them three at a time.

The hallway was silent bar the sounds Lucky was making as he cleaned up the remnants of the pie on the floor, not wanting to miss a single crumb of his human food treasure.

“Em, why don’t you two take Lucky and go get in the car, we’ll be out in a little moment.” Katie smiled at her.

“Okay. Come on Jay!” Em grabbed his hand but Jamie, clearly now finding the reaction his dad had amusing, turned to his mom and made a little growling noise at her. Katie gave a fake scream and jolted back, causing Jamie to cackle a little, tilting his head back in mirth before allowed Emmy to lead him away.

As soon as they were out of sight and earshot Katie started to laugh. She laughed so hard that she had to retreat to the kitchen to sit at a chair. She doubled over, clutching at her stomach, trying to gather her breath as the tears poured down her face. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the image of Steve fighting the urge to punt his own son into another room out of her head.

Eventually she managed to sort herself out enough to grab her phone and swiped over to the number she wanted.

“Hey, Kiddo.” Tony greeted

“Tony, you…” she started to laugh again “You better be able to run fast because Steve…he’s…”

Tony chuckled. “He liked the costume then?”

“Tony he freaked, like, seriously. Poor Steve. I expected some form of full Captain America outfit, not that!”

“Well, on this occasion the Spangles just weren’t enough”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He conceded. “Did you get it on video?”

“No.” Katie sighed “I was going to but when I saw Pennywise on my damned stairs I knew what was gonna happen so…”

“Shame.We could have played that back later. For science.”

At that point Katie looked up as Steve walked into the kitchen, glancing round.

“He’s not in here…” She chuckled and Steve glared at her, before he gestured to the phone.

“That Tony?”

She nodded.

He reached out and snatched the phone off her. “You’re a dead man,” he growled down the handset, and Katie could hear her brother’s roar of laughter before Steve hung up and tossed the phone down onto the table.

“Calm down!” Katie laughed, standing up. “Steve, it’s just a costume.”

“Katie, they freak me the hell out!” he shook his head “You don’t…” his hands dropped to his hips and his head dropped. “Did you see his face when I backed away?”

“Oh, he’s fine!” Katie rubbed Steve’s arms. “He couldn’t care less.” Steve took a deep breath and she looked at him. “Do you want me to get him to change?”

Steve shook his head “No, he was so pleased with himself…plus, I don’t fancy that particular tantrum now do you?”

“Not really no.”

Steve shrugged “Then I guess I’m stuck with it. Come on, let’s get gone. Sooner we get there the sooner I can carry out my threat to kill your asshole brother.”

Steve grabbed the food hamper and headed out to the car with it, settling it onto the trunk of the car as Katie got into the passenger side. Once Steve finished his usual checks to ensure the door was locked, he climbed into the driver’s seat ant they set off.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah buddy?” Steve asked, glancing in the mirror automatically and once more was confronted by that fucking clown. He swallowed and turned his eyes to the front.

“No scared, daddy. I not a real clown.”

Katie chuckled as Steve pulled out of the drive onto the road. “I know pal, but it’s Halloween. Everyone gets scared at some point.”

Jamie nodded, accepting his answer and turned to look out of the window. As they approached a junction, Steve checked the mirror again and then sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re gonna hafta drive.” He looked at Katie.

“What?”

“I can’t do it.” He shrugged “Every time I check the mirror, all I can see is…”

“Are you being serious?” Katie looked at him.

“Absolutely.” Steve unclipped the seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

And right then Katie vowed that if Steve didn’t kill Tony, she was gonna.

****

December 2022

“Did he go down alright?”

Steve dropped onto the couch, picking up one of the super strength beers Thor had send him as part of a pre- Christmas testing package, lifting his arm up so Katie could settle into him.

“Very well, actually,” he narrowed his eyes taking a pull of his beer, “almost suspiciously so.”

Katie chuckled as she replaced her glass and dropped her head to Steve’s shoulder as she pressed play on the remote. The two of them simply stayed like that, the odd movement and hands stroking shoulders, thighs or knees as usual, comfortable in their own little world, the light of the fire and twinkling of the Christmas lights giving the room a cosy, comfy ambience. They were about thirty minutes into the film when, Katie felt Steve’s head move off the top of hers and she glanced at him and saw the beginnings of a smile forming on his face.

“What?”

He looked down at her. “You know,” he said, a light in his eyes that she knew all too well, “It’s Friday, Emmy’s out, Jamie’s in bed…” Steve trailed off and raised an eyebrow at his wife. She grinned too, mirroring his expression.

“I like where this is going,” she smirked and within seconds, her legs had been pulled from underneath her drawing a giggle from her lips as she lay flat on the sofa, Steve hovering over her. Katie wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips met, and she was just beginning to thread her fingers through his hair when they both heard a shout.

“Heeeeeyyyyy!”

Steve dropped his head and groaned. “I’ll go.”

He placed one last kiss on her lips before he stood up off the couch and headed into the hall way.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” he said as he headed up the stairs, seeing Jamie stood in his doorway at the baby gate.

“No sleep.” Jamie’s response was a whine.

“Not an option pal” Steve shook his head, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You know Santa won’t come if you don’t.”

“Can’t sleep.” Jamie tried again, and Steve had to bite back the smile that was about to cross his face. His son had certainly inherited his, and his wife’s for that matter, tenacity.

“Did you even try?”

There was a pause and Jamie furiously nodded his head in a blatant lie.

“Sure you did.” Steve rolled his eyes “Well what do you think would help you sleep?”

“Story, daddy!”

At those words a smile spread across Steve’s face. Over the last six months, Jamie had taken a real interest in the tales he told him, so much so that they had swapped night time readings of chapters from books for Steve’s real life stories, most of them being pulled straight from the streets of Brooklyn or Manhattan during Steve’s own childhood or adulthood pre-serum.

“One more.” Steve caved and Jamie shrieked with delight. “But!” he continued in a warning tone, “You have to be quiet.”

Jamie stilled immediately and clapped his little hands over his mouth before he turned and ran, diving back on his bed. Steve chuckled and made his into Jamie’s room, as the two year old climbed under his Iron Man Duvet cover (Thank you Tony for that one…) and peered up at Steve as he settled down next to him, his son setting under his arm, snuggling into the crook of his arm against his chest.

“Did I ever tell you about the time that I went to the theatre-”

Katie didn’t wait for Steve to come back down, she knew full well that he would have been coerced into one more story. Their son had his dad wrapped around his little finger, and Steve at times found it simply impossible to say no. She glanced up at the clock, noting that it was almost nine… they could watch the film in bed. She turned the TV and tree lights off, she took the empty glass and bottle into the kitchen, let Lucky out for a pee whilst she made sure all the doors were locked before letting the now slightly older and slower dog back in.

“You staying here tonight, Luck?” She asked, and the dog yawned, stretching as he rolled onto his back in the dog basket which was placed in the hallway under the stairs. “Take that as a yes then.” She scratched behind his ears before standing up and creeping up the stairs to the door of her son’s room, which was open enough for her to peek through.

She loved Steve’s stories almost as much as Jamie did, if not for the same reasons. Jamie loved their action and adventure, often joining in with his own loud whoops and laughs, but Katie simply loved listening to Steve’s voice as he narrated. His tone would change from low and dramatic to loud and comical, and Katie found it simply adorable. A pure, unadulterated moment of love between father and son that made her heart swell every single time she watched or overheard.

“And then, all of a sudden this man appeared, in the alley way. And I didn’t have anything to protect myself with. So I picked up a trash can lid, and held it right here, like a shield.” Steve drew his arm across his chest. “Like Cap?” Jamie said, thrusting his Captain America bear at his dad.

“Just like Cap, yeah, Buddy.” Katie smiled to herself, Jamie was still too young to really understand about their history with the Avengers. He knew about who the Avengers were, well what he could grasp being so young, thanks mainly to Tony and Natasha, but he had no idea about his dad’s alter ego. And for now, it wasn’t important, they were just a normal family and long may it stay like that.

Katie watched as Steve continued to talk as he sat up on Jamie’s bed, his back against the headboard as his mini-me, led besides him, looking up at his father, eyes wide and full of adoration. These were the moments that brought out all of Steve’s best characteristics, and Katie simply loved him all the more for it. Smiling to herself she headed into their bedroom and tossed her clothes aside before she stepped into the shower in their en-suite.

Steve could read his son’s body language like a book, and about ten minutes after his super hearing heard Katie leaving where she had been stood outside the room listening, he could feel the little boy starting to droop slightly, one small hand fisted into Steve’s white t-shirt, the other was in front of his small face, thumb in his mouth as his index finger gently rubbed against that Stark nose. A few moments later he glanced down and in the dim glow of the dinosaur night light, he saw his son was fast asleep. Gently, he moved and stepped off the bed, tucking the duvet up under Jamie’s chin before he stooped, dropping a kiss onto his head, his hand gently caressing the shock of blonde hair. With a last look back he closed the door to, leaving it open just a chink, and headed into their room.

Katie was just emerging from the en-suite wearing a bathrobe, long hair piled up on her head.

“He has you wrapped around his finger.” She grinned, sliding her hands up her husband’s chest.

“Oh, and you don’t?” He muttered, hands connecting at the bottom of her spine.

“You gonna read me a bed time story then, Captain?”

“I got a better way of getting you to sleep.” He murmured, dropping his lips to hers, and she grinned as he backed her towards the bed. “There’s only one problem.” “Oh yeah?” She asked, as his arms pulled her closer, his lips trailed down her neck, mopping up the speckles of water from the shower that remained.

“Yeah, this is in the way.”

He softly kissed at that spot beneath her ear, his hand dropping to the belt of her robe. She grinned as he pulled at the tie and gently shrugged the robe off Katie’s shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor as his lips claimed hers again. He wrapped an arm round her back, tugging her onto her toes so he could take a nipple in his mouth and she let out a groan as she looked downwards, moving her hands to undo the chords on his sweat pants.

“Off.” She muttered, pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt. He released her temporarily so she could slide it up, before he pivoted and dropped them both onto the bed, trapping her in between his hands and legs.

A familiar warmth exploded along her lower abdomen as he kissed her, one hand on the side of her face, the other sliding to her hip and across her stomach, making its way slowly between her legs. She arched her back and groaned as he slipped two fingers inside her, feeling him smirk against her neck.

“Fucking drenched aren’t you, Sweetheart?”

She let out another groan at his words. “Only for you.” A low growl rolled in the back of his throat as he slammed his mouth onto hers, shucking off his sweats as he began to kiss her chest, then stomach, before going down her legs. He set his mouth to her, lapping at her, her sweet, salty tang, so familiar yet so delectable, and as he worked her, it was all she could do to mewl softly, and grip one hand in his hair as she writhed at his touch. His tongue flicked strongly and he sucked at her clit gently, before upping the pace as she whimpered, trying so hard to keep her noise down. Steve continued to tease and nibble and when he took her swollen clit between his lips again Katie let out a silent scream as her orgasm hit her hard, causing her knees to turn inwards, squeezing around his head, involuntarily. She fell back against the pillows with a sigh of satisfaction and looked down as Steve crawled back up her body, leaning forward, placing his hands on either side of her head.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He whispered, making her grin before he crashed his lips onto hers, the sudden action drawing a small grunt from her mouth. She reached down taking him in her hand and he took in a sharp breath as he pulled away from her mouth, sliding his fingers down her legs. He moved her legs apart and pushed into her, a low sigh of satisfaction leaving both their lips before he began to move, burying his face into her neck, nipping at the spot under her ear gently. She keened underneath him as he grew more urgent with his thrusts, her eyes locking onto his as he gripped her hands at either side of her head, leaning back down to kiss her fervently. He was hard, fast, desperate for hris release and she met each of his thrusts fervently with her own hips happy to give herself to him.

“So good,” He praised in a low voice, dragging his face against her hair before he looked at her. “I’m close, tell me you are…”

Katie responded with a moan, “Stevie.” and then her legs shook and she came again, closing her eyes as she tightened around him, burying her face into his neck to stifle her noises as the spasms came involuntarily around him again and again.

“Oh, fuck, Doll.” he stuttered, biting his lower lip as his eyes fluttered closed before his rhythm stilled and he let out a soft groan as he came, the utter bliss consuming him fully. He fell forward, head dropping into the hollow of his wife’s neck to catch his breath, his body slumped on top of hers, his familiar weight pressed her into the mattress as they both came down from their high. Katie ran her fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses along his shoulder as her nails gently scratched at his scalp, causing Steve to hum out a soft sigh of contentment as he lay still, enjoying her touch.

“Stevie?” she muttered.

“Yeah?” “How long do you think we have before Jamie realises he can climb the baby gates now?”

“I’m amazed he hasn’t already.” Steve leaned up on his elbows to look down at his wife “Why?”

“Because I think we might need to invest in a lock for our door.” she grinned “For when you’re reading your baby momma her bedtime story.”

*****

Chapter 49

**Original Posting 1 2 3**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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a-sirens-melody · 3 years

Text

Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.

#IT WORKS ON MOBILE #thank you god #anyways tada!!#ducktales #darkwing duck #drakepad #drake mallard #launchpad mcquack #my writing #drake has t1d the fic basically #and really bad parents but that's not new

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Halloween

Right after 5x01 with Reid and Hotch both pulling away, Morgan and Emily take matters into their own hands.

“I don’t want to.”

Morgan, who up until that point, had really, truly believed that the worst of his year was behind him closes his eyes with a tired sigh. As if the pig farm hadn’t felt suffocating on its own, now it’s tangled in his mind with Foyet. The pigs, Mason, that poor girl, and Hotch. Because that terrible night hadn’t ended for Hotch as it had for the rest of them. They slept while Hotch lay on his apartment floor, his own blood soaking into his clothes. The hospital hadn’t even washed the dried blood from his hair by the time the team arrived.

Emily had the next day. It had taken Derek and Emily both to do the seemingly mindless task. Hotch had been uncomfortable, dirty and the nurses had given them the leeway to tackle the task together. And they were both very aware of how annoyed he was to have to succumb to their help. Hotch can hardly raise his arms to his waist, he wasn’t going to be washing his one hair. And as the oldest of his own siblings and still leaning heavily into that protective mindset, Morgan would heavily prefer it to be him there. So, bracing Hotch’s side with his own body, Derek had held Hotch upright while Emily gently scrubbed his hair clean of his blood.

The scent thick and acidic but slowly replaced with a smell distinctly hospital-like. The water had browned, the suds too dirty to even help only about halfway through. Standing there, Hotch’s body growing heavier and shaking gently against Morgan’s ribs he could see every bone in his boss’s back. And, too soon, they had to call it quiets. The monitors were picking up, distraught with the pain Hotch had hidden so well. His heart missing beats as Morgan had eased his head back into the pillows.

Emily standing there, white as a ghost, with that bucket of water. Hotch was only half-aware of them and their intentions by then. Watching Morgan behind half-lidded eyes and lips pale and parted as he took a dry rag through his hair. Morgan’s mother had always told him that going out in the cold with wet hair would give you pneumonia and while he had never known anyone to get pneumonia like that he wasn’t going to take any chances. Even if they were in a temperature-controlled hospital room.

And through all of that, Hotch had made it. Slowly, through shrieking monitors and more than one scare, alive. A fucking miracle.

“What do you mean you don’t want to go?” It’s Halloween. For as long as Morgan has known Reid, it’s been his favorite holiday. Hell, everyone knows it’s his favorite holiday. Even Hotch gets a little festive in the name of bringing even the faintest smile to Reid’s face. The idea for today, a party to celebrate Halloween, had been done with Reid specifically in mind. Being cooped up in this apartment isn’t good for him.

Reid who hasn’t actually looked at Morgan since he came in, twirls the frayed ends of his blanket around his finger. “I don’t want to,” he repeats. It’s one thing to mop about in this apartment. Here, no one watches him struggle to move. No one looks too hard, too long at his ill-practiced steps. At the crutches tucked under his scrawny arms. Worse is that if he goes, he can’t take his crutches. He’ll have to the stupid wheelchair in his room. Whos open seat is a crookedly carved leather smile, taunting him.

Morgan shakes his head and keeps at his current project. For the past week (has it been a week? He isn’t certain) he’s done nothing but tidies up every space around him. Having attacked Hotch’s apartment-- tearing up that blood-stained carpet, patching the hole in the wall, fixing a leaky faucet in the guest room, and cleaning out his worryingly empty fridge-- he’s come to Reid’s. The thing is Reid is going to make this process a little harder. There are bits and pieces of Reid in every corner of his apartment. Not self-deprecatingly bare like Hotch’s. Here, he can’t disrupt the way books lie because they all have been sectioned and left where they are with purpose. There is a purpose to his chaos more meaningful than Hotch’s out of sight out of mind.

“Well, you have to go.”

Reid frowns, biting his lip to refrain from whining. Despite having done more by his current twenty-four-years of age than any of them, they still treat him like a child. And while any of them might be forgiven for a bit of childish refusal he won’t be. Well, in all fairness, he is prone to a bit more childish things than they are. Reid had to be forced to go to the doctor’s for a check-up after getting anthrax and all because he had thought they might ask to do blood tests. What had made him go, in the end? Morgan taking Reid himself. It was humiliating but when they draw blood Morgan had offered his hand and Reid had taken it.

Now, Morgan’s just asking for a favor. For Reid to suck it up, just this once. To have fun and be easy. “Hotch is only coming because he’s under the impression this is all for you.” And it is, all for Reid. None of them care about Halloween. Hotch least of all. But the two of them are going to go crazy cooped up on their own.

Of course, that’s only mostly true.

It’s entirely Morgan and Emily’s idea.

“Okay,” Reid sighs, scratching self-conscious at his scalp. “I just…” he shoves the blankets off his legs. “Just need a few minutes.” A shower. He needs a shower and, if he’s granted the time for it, a pity nap.

Morgan hums, head bent to his current task of cleaning Reid’s strangely large collection of mugs lining his counter. “As long as you need,” he mumbles.

Two years ago, if someone sat David Rossi down and told him that on a Saturday in October he’d be celebrating Halloween as a fully grown man... he wouldn’t believe them. Add in the fact that he would be doing this because it’s a twenty-something-year-old genius’s favorite holiday and he’s doing it to lighten the mood of his old prodigy… well, he’d consider himself senile.

He should have stayed retired.

As of the last month, he’s been thinking that a lot. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the little ragtag team Aaron’s created in his absence but they're a little crazy and trouble magnets-- Emily and Reid attempt at a second Waco with Benjamin Cyrus, the bombing in New York, and George Foyet. All within the span of a year. He’s only heard about some of the other things they did before he came back.

These freaking kids are crazy.

“Will you just listen to me,” Dave is multi-tasking. Aside from picking out comfortable clothes for the evening he also has got to swindle Hotch into coming out to the party. “For once in your life, Aaron, just listen to me.” As dramatic as that may sound, it’s kind of fair. Even when they prodigy and mentor, Aaron had a flair for taking Dave’s instructions in one ear and out the other.

“Dave,” comes Aaron’s soft rebuttal. He’s exhausted. Much to his chagrin, three days rest has done nothing to mend the bone-tired ache in his body. Add the depression he can feel settling across his sternum and the way his ribs feel like they’re being pried open… He has no interest in watching his team get drunk at Dave’s house. Call him a buzzkill or a killjoy to heart’s content, that’s not going to change his mind.

Besides, the last thing he needs is to start himself into a bad habit of drinking every time he’s sad. Then what? He starts himself down a road of addiction. He comes to work drunk. Derek tries to say something. Dave is worried. He gets fired. He’s no better than his own father.

Rossi’s voice softens, any of the agitation previously in his voice is gone. “Aaron,” he calls through the speaker. “I’m not asking. Emily’s on her way right now to come to get you.” He sighs under his breath, just tired, not even mad. “You can make that hard for her,” Dave offers, knowing that’s what Hoch is going to be inclined to do. “I think we both know she deserves a break from that, though.”

Hotch feels the defeat pull his shoulders down. He’s been an asshole lately. Logically, he knows it’s a progression of all the emotions he’s feeling and burying. Emily doesn’t hate him for that but he knows she’s starting to feel overwhelmed by it. And given how successful his other attempts at pushing everyone else away has been, he might just owe her a little reprieve. To do this one thing without an entire battle.

“I’ll… I’ll be there.”

Dave smiles on the other side of the line, content with himself. “Thank you, Aaron. I will see you there, kiddo.”

It’s always the smartest people that fall for the simplest tricks.

Unlike Derek, Emily does feel bad about their plan. Logically, she’s very aware of how beneficial it’s going to be. If they don’t invite themselves over, Reid won’t ask anyone to come. Which means that he’s got to be getting his meals some other way. The thing is, if he were getting them delivered by a friend unknown to his team members, there should be something left over. Food in his fridge or trash in his garbage can. But there’s nothing.

Why does love have to be so difficult? How is it that some people understand it and others are stunningly unaware? Somehow wrapping their pretty little heads around this idea that they are undeserving or tricksters for having tricked someone into caring about them. If they didn’t love Reid would they feverishly watch over him? Did he really consider himself that sinister? That malicious? That he could trick profilers into loving him? Let it be clear, there is no trick. They are not so foolish and he not so unlovable.

“Derek, I think we might--”

Reid’s wobbly. He’s not yet mastered the crutches (at all). His practice comes only from the hospital and then his instructions had been brief before he was sent down the hall. A nurse just needing to see he could maneuver them and that they were at the right height. So, as bitter as he is to admit it, Derek’s lightly placed hand on the small of his back is very helpful.

Turning to see Emily, Reid lurches dangerous and Morgan moves quickly to stop him from falling. Just behind them, SUV pulled up onto Rossi’s lawn as close as she could pull it up, Emily is helping Hotch out of the car. Even from here, he can hear the lowered grumbling shared between the two. Despite being unable to see Hotch except for one brief moment, Reid’s glad to at least hear the other man. Him and Emily clipping rough comments back and forth. Bordering on rude but it’s between them and they’ve always let one another slide in these areas.

Vaguely he can piece together that they’re arguing about whether or not Morgan’s help is needed. “--wheelchair, that you made me leave-- I will take you back-- walker-- asshole!” Despite how angrily they nip back and forth, it’s all in what they don’t say. Hotch falls into Emily’s guiding step. Not even breaking from his own comment as her hand comes around his hips and effortlessly supports his weight as they take a step up. Neither taking the blow below the belt to note how Hotch’s words get cut off by a hardly contained whimper of pain or how choked his quick, distressed breathing becomes.

Morgan’s help is needed but Emily is too focused on keeping Hotch’s feet firmly planted on the ground and Hotch too worried about not busting his ass on the ice.

Reid jerks as Dave’s front door is thrown open. One hand on his hip, an apron over his chest, he shakes his head at the sight of the four of them. “I can hear you two arguing like children from in the house!” he shouts. He steps out onto the porch, tucking the towel in his hand into his pants. “Grown adults out here acting like children!” There is an unmistakable David Rossi laced fondness in his tone. That, despite his haste movements and dry frown, is taken as such because they know him. And he knows Hotch and Emily well enough to know this would happen.

“Get yourselves inside,” Rossi’s entire body changes when he sees Morgan and Reid. A simple passing hand down Morgan’s back for encouragement. “There’s root beer in the bottom drawer in the fridge, have Henry get you one!”

Reid smiles, suddenly excited for this afternoon. Root beer is… it’s the keystone of his childhood. There was not a matter he and his mother couldn’t handle with a little root beer. And while he doesn’t indulge himself often with that luxury (still some part of his brain fails to comprehend that he has the money to get it) Dave always has it. Hearing that Henry is here, implying Will and JJ too, he feels himself growing giddy. Pleased. He can’t wait to talk to them. For Will to hit his shoulder with his fist just a little too hard and to rustle his hair. JJ hovering and laughing. Henry. Smiling laughing.

Dave keeps going.

His frowning turning into a small while Hotch’s dark eyes find him, a glint of hope. “Our poor hero,” Dave greets in a half-jab at Hotch. He cups the younger man’s cheek, smiling at him. “I assume Emily has been her cruel and unusual self?” Once again, another jab. It’s a perfect balance. He neither takes Emily’s side (exhausted by Hotch’s antics) nor Hotch’s (exhausted by Emily’s antics).

They both scoff, at both implications.

“Hotch is being an asshole,” Emily grumbles, childishly sticking her tongue out at him. “Per his usual self.”

Hotch turns to Dave and returns, “to answer your question, yes she is.”

Wedged between Dave and Emily, Hotch makes it to the porch. Emily only hits him once. Once. He deserved it.

“Would you two behave?”

They get all of two steps in before JJ puts a stop to it. You see, no one ever listens to Dave. Not once has anyone ever listened to Hotch but JJ. No, to JJ, they always listen. And with a slow final few blows, Hotch and Emily stop bickering.

“Now,” JJ has flour on her chest. An honor which means Rossi has let her within his kitchen. “Go sit,” she points to the living room, stepping aside to let them through. “Behave yourselves or I’m not letting you eat until you hug and tell each other you love one another.” Her grandmother used to force that punishment on JJ and her sister as children. Cruel, she had thought then, but JJ has learned it to be very useful. As they pass, she hears them both grumble something about Hotch’s mostly liquid diet and how Emily doesn’t think that’s very fair. JJ throws her own towel at their heads. It’s well worth the shared smirk of mischief shared between Hotch and Emily.

Little deviants, she thinks with an eye roll. It’s Halloween so she lets it slide.

In the living room, Reid and Hotch are left while the others fight over one another in the kitchen. The clatter is heard through the whole house. Morgan making Garcia laugh, a barking sound that draws a smile from Reid. Joyous. Emily lightly teasing Rossi for what she teases is new greying in his hair. She asks if he’d like her to dye it for him the next time he gets his hair colored. Her triumphant laughter is just as freeing.

“Hotch?”

Beaten by the effort it took to walk all the way to the living room, Hotch had mostly succumbed to his placement on in the lazyboy. A chair, in which, he had never sat once in all the years he’d visited Dave’s. But the recliner is large and he can easily lean to support his side. Keeping an arm wrapped around his aching side. Without opening his eyes, head tilted back he hums. “Yeah?”

Reid’s knee is carefully surrounded by pillows. Even if it’s jostled, it’s fully supported in every direction. He’d been sitting here, watching Hotch’s face steadily grow blank. Masking his pain. He’d wanted to know if Hotch too had been tricked into coming. But then, as Morgan, followed closely by Garcia and the others, step in and Reid finds he doesn’t actually need to know. Hotch came, didn’t he? Left the safety of his dark apartment in favor of their boisterous company. Of little Henry in his Spiderman costume and Garcia and her own elaborate Harry Potter costume.

Derek hands Reid a plate, mostly finger foods a bit of pasta. His plate mirrors Henry’s. While the other’s all eat healthy amounts of pasta. Will sneaks him a napkin, which confuses him, until Will covers his hand over Reid’s and whispers “there are eight Oreos in this napkin”. Sweets, which JJ and Garcia had deprived him until he cleaned his plate. And when JJ caves, Reid’s stomach full of the carrots, crackers, and grapes his plate had primarily had (as well as those Oreos), and brings him a slice of pie and ice cream Will only shakes his head with a smirk.

Hotch manages a few spoonful's of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup.

“You could eat something else,” Dave ventures, scowling. But Hotch’s body is very displeased and what little solid food he’d managed to eat in the last few days was having a tendency to come right back up. Abdominal trauma, the doctor’s kept informing them, often caused this. They just needed to wait it out.

“He’s got the palate of a toddler,” Emily mumbles but she means it fondly. She punctuates it by throwing a carrot at his head. He doesn’t have the dexterity to swat it out of the air so it hits his head and he just scowls at her.

Reid sides with Hotch. “Chicken noodle soup is the best soup,” he offers in Hotch’s defense. Blushing when Hotch just looks sadly at him, as if broken by the idea that Reid is the only person left to defend him.

“It is,” Garcia tries to add, helpfully. She smiles encouragingly to Hotch but once again he takes them siding with him poorly. If all the sympathy he can garner is from Reid and Garcia, he’s hopeless. He loves them dearly but they effortlessly take his side. “And you leave my boss man alone! If he wants to eat chicken noodle soup then you let him.”

Hotch hums to that, quirking an eyebrow at Garcia, and looking down at Emily. Of all the places for her to sit, she’d chosen the floor. With a whole floor to choose from, she still sat down right at his feet. Resting her back against his shins. Which he didn’t mind but he knew she’d done it just to annoy him.

Henry grows tired of his adult company and with the sun falling, he knows what’s coming. Even at three, he’s aware of what he’s supposed to be doing.

“Go on,” Hotch encourages. He knows they’re only holding back for two reasons: Reid and him. But Henry shouldn’t suffer just because he managed to piss off the one Unsub brave enough to attack him and Reid unfortunate enough to get shot. “We won’t go anywhere. I’ll put on Doctor Who,” he bargains. “Reid won’t go anywhere.” But it’s not really Reid they’re worried about. “I’ll take a nap,” he offers. Which is what his body needs but he’s not so sure he’ll actually commit to that.

“Don’t move.” Emily orders.

“I’ll make sure he stays put,” Reid says, with a nod. But given how stupid they both are, Emily loves the commitment but doesn’t take the offer too seriously. Hotch with a blanket tucked over his legs and Reid happily humming away to the Doctor Who theme song, they’re left to the silence of Dave’s house. The others out taking Henry around the block for some trick or treating.

Hotch does take that nap and Reid contently gets sucked into Doctor Who. Content in ways they both thought were only possible locked away in their own misery.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #will lamontagne #david rossi #henry jareau

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theutterlyboredwriter · 3 years

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Bounty and the Hunter

Summary: The Mandalorian's newest bounty is a seemingly harmless prostitue who offers up her services for him not bringing her in.

Rating: Explicit (I know you won't listen but if you're under 18 don't read)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: SMUT (if it's cringey I'm sorry,it's my first time writing smut), oral (M receving), mentions of prostitution, generally sexy themes, cursing, if there's anything else let me know

A/N: HI!!! This is my first post (!!!) and also the first smut I've ever written so if it sucks...sorry lmao. I also just finished rewatching the Mandalorian and it's SO GOOD!! I hope you like it!

The alarm that usually roused you from sleep had been playing for nearly half an hour before you realized that you were late. After getting dressed into the pink bra and underwear as well as the pink mesh tunic that had become your uniform these past six months, you walked out of your house. Running through the empty street you ducked into an alley and walked into the back entrance of the club, hoping that your boss wouldn't notice that you were fifteen minutes late. Thankfully, the early morning/late night rush was enough to distract him as you slipped in and set your stuff down at your station. The club was both a strip club and brothel, the latter only for those who were of a certain rank and distinction, and it was always busy between ten pm and five am. The clock on the wall read 3:58, you only had two minutes before your first customer was due to come and call on you, so you sat and touched up the makeup that had smudged as you ran from your place to the club.

"Hey! Booth number one wants you," Linberen called to you as she walked out on stage.

Your services ranged from lap dances to…well, there hadn't been anything you hadn't said yes to for the right price yet, but you had quickly become one of the most sought-after girls in the little club. The lights were a dim yellow, low from broken lights and dust that had covered the bulbs no one ever cared to change. The owner, Gribrad said it gave the place some character and ambiance, but it just accentuated the shitty stone walls and grimy wood floors that Gribrad was too cheap to replace. It was busy, the stage was covered by four girls, and there wasn't an open space around the jutted out stage, crowded by men throwing measly credits on the stage. To your right were the different booths, each covered with a purple velvet curtain to allow the customers some privacy. Towards the front of the building was booth one and you took a small breath before pushing the curtain back far enough to allow yourself entrance into the small space. Your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the significantly darker room before you spotted something shiny that struck fear into your heart, beskar.

"Don't run, I can see in your eyes that you want to. It will be a waste." The voice was deep and gruff, altered by a modulator, but the voice struck a nerve in you and sent chills down your spine. You set your hands on your lap, allowing the armored man to see that you didn't plan on pulling a knife on him, while silently reprimanding yourself for not bringing a knife like Linberen had told you to do so many times before.

"I have to say, 60,000 credits for a prostitute is a hefty bounty. Usually, that kind of price is attached to someone who's committed treason." The words fell heavy into the air. The shitty dance music in the background did little to ease the looming silence that was so obvious between the two of you.

"What's a Mandalorian like you doing here? I thought you all were killed years ago?" You asked weakly, the lump in your throat making it hard to do anything else but breathe heavily.

"Apparently not."

You'd heard that all the Mandalorians were dead, wiped out in a massive genocide by the Empire, but yet here one sat across from you. That's when it struck you that Beskar was still being sold on the black market and this could just be a silly impostor.

"I beg to differ. For all I know you just bought the armor off of some black-market dealer to scare other bounty hunters. Mandalore was destroyed years ago by the Empire," you said with a smirk. Today wasn't the day that you would be played by some asshole in armor; you needed to make money, and this wasn't a real customer.

"With all due respect, I have things to do like work, and as much fun as sitting here in silence with you is, I need to get back to work. I'll tell Gribrad that it was just a meeting, so you won't get charged but if you exc-," you'd started to get up, but the man grabbed your arm and threw you back onto the leather seats.

"With all due respect," he began through gritted teeth, "I'm not leaving without you in handcuffs."

"Listen, if you want it like that just tell me and I can get that arranged," you chuckle, hoping that the joke will lessen the growing tension in the booth.

It didn't.

"The only way that I'm going to leave is with you, now I can kill you or have you come along cooperatively, your choice."

"Who are you taking me back to? Why is there a bounty out for me? How did you find me?" You try to cover the apparent fear with anger, hoping that something drastic will happen and allow you to escape.

He sits in silence; his regulated breathing is so overwhelming that you feel suffocated. By now your eyes have adjusted to the dark and you see that his blaster is pointed in your direction, sitting by his right thigh. A million scenarios race through your mind of how you could try to distract him and kill him with his own gun until you realize that your bounty would only grow and make it harder to hide. You don't realize how deep in thought you are until the man slaps his gloved hand on your knee to get your attention.

"Listen Mandalorian, I don't know why you are here but I'm innocent. I've done nothing to warrant a bounty and I haven't hurt anyone. Let me go, I'll give you whatever you want to just pretend you never saw me." The desperate slew of words spills out as he cocks his head off to the side to look at you. You feel the judgment and disgust burning a hole into you, and suddenly you wish you had been much later to work.

"I don't bargain with criminals."

The answer is plain and cuts you like a knife.

"There has to be something that you need! A maid, a mechanic, a-a um… a stress reliever?" You know throwing out sex for protection is a low spot in your life, but you have no interest in being turned over to be murdered or tortured.

For the first time all morning, you feel that he is contemplating what you've said. But truth be told, you have no idea what is going through his head. The rigidness of his body rids you of the advantage of reading body language, and his chrome helmet blocks and facial expressions you could possibly read, but something in your soul tells you that even if you could see his face right now it wouldn't help you.

An eternity passes before his modulated voice lets out an answer.

"Have you ever worked as a mechanic before?"

Not the answer you wanted.

"For a few years, yeah," you mutter, voice wracked with worry.

Again, the two of you are left in silence; so you resign to twiddling with the worn pink mesh that covers your body, running your fingers over the rips that have gathered these past few months.

The man sighs. Loudly. You take this as a sign of hope, you hope.

"I am willing to postpone the date in which I bring you back in return for you to work for me. You step out of place once and I put a bullet in your head and deliver you to the people who want you, got it?"

You gulp and slowly nod, not wanting to upset him in any way.

"I'll give you five minutes to grab your things and then meet me here. Don’t run."

You stand on wobbly legs, grabbing onto the wall to support you, and begin to walk to the back of the club so you can grab your things. The thought of running seems nice, but you know that he probably has someone at the back just waiting for you to run. The loud music is drowned out, secondary to the thumping of your blood through your heart. You don't have much to take with you, a couple hundred credits, a change of clothes, and a small bag of makeup.

"Didn't you just get here? Why are you packing your shit up?" Ajislen asks as she changes into a new outfit for the next stage show.

"I have to leave, I can't really explain it," you try to answer. You don't want to say too much, but you also don't want to leave your friends without a word. Then it hits you, your friends. You won't see these people for a while, possibly forever. Not that it would matter much to them, but you'd like to think that your absence will be noticed.

Suddenly the lights begin to flicker. Just for a second, but long enough to draw the attention of all the girls in the room.

"Ugh, this place is a dump. I don't blame you for leaving." With that, she leaves.

You walk through the front of the club and see the Mandalorian standing at the front of the club, guarding the front entrance. The man grabs your arm and guides you from the club, looking around at the empty streets. Being only 4:30, the streets are bare and it's dark out, but it somehow feels more dangerous with this heavily guarded man on your arm than it did as you ran to the club less than an hour ago, defenseless and utterly alone. The walk to his ship takes forever, maybe because you are now fearful to be on this planet; or maybe because you aren't sure if he is going to stay true to his word. He could be leading you back, only to turn around and put a bullet in your head. But either way, as your feet trudge through the sandy road, you find yourself in painful silence.

Talking was one of your most favorite things to do, there wasn't a person you'd met who you hadn't been able to strike up a conversation with. You loved the idea of getting to know people, to open up and share something with someone. You knew better than to try and talk to this man. You feared to ask his name or say anything around him.

The ship was parked in the middle of a sand dune, far enough to not be bothered by the local traffic. In all honesty, it looked a little shitty. Part of you hoped that he would allow you to work on it and try to make it look better. It could be your ticket to surviving, spoke a little voice in your head.

He pushed you into the ship, and your breath caught in your throat as you swore you felt his fingers trace down your spine. Nonsense, you told yourself and started walking forward. If the outside was shitty the inside was utterly depressing, you could tell that this ship was in desperate need of your touch, and though you didn't realize it at that moment, so did something else.

"I'll find some blankets and you can make a spot to sleep on the floor." He said as he began to close the door to the ship, "The fresher is behind that door and the cockpit is up this ladder."

That was all he said before ascending the ladder, leaving you alone and scared. You assumed that he was getting ready to take off, so you found a spot on the floor to sit and try to grapple with what had happened in the past hour. So much had gone unprocessed and you were just coming to terms with the brevity of the situation. There was a 60,000-credit bounty out for you, who hadn't committed a crime, who was just trying to make enough to live. You knew why the bounty was out, but you decided in that booth that he obviously didn't know, so you'd feign ignorance too. It probably wouldn't do much, but you didn't know and trying to stay alive and uncaptured seemed like a good idea.

"Damn it!" You heard from above, and without thinking, you went to explore.

It was only as you entered the cockpit that you realized that you were probably overstepping your boundaries. It was too late to go back though, so you walked towards the pilot seat hoping that you'd be able to be of some assistance.

"Can I help?" You asked meekly.

The shiny helmet jerked to look at you, probably out of shock but quickly turned its attention back to the dashboard.

"Not unless you can fix this to let me input the coordinates."

You looked over his shoulder at the switches and knobs illuminated in a variety of colors, trying to find the thing that was causing trouble. You saw it finally, a small button that was lodged in a funky position that was preventing the circuit from running and allowed the coordinates to be input.

Without a word you reached past him to fix the issue, your mesh-covered chest brushing past his metal shoulder piece. You gasped to yourself, the cold beskar evoking a far more sexual feeling than it should. With a small breath to yourself, you pushed the feeling down and went to work on fixing the button so you two could be on your way.

"Thank you," he said curtly.

You just nodded and sat in the passenger seat, trying to remove your mind from the fact that just touching his armor had turned you on more than you had been in years. Silently you wondered if he'd heard your gasp, silently you hoped that he liked it. The feeling stayed, and further reflection only deepened the growing warmth in your stomach. First, his hand trailing down your back and then that? That's when you remembered that you had offered yourself not only as a mechanic and maid but as someone to help alleviate his stress.

So maybe it was this memory, the growing wetness between your thighs, or some entirely different force that compelled you to slide off the chair and onto your hands and knees. You waited until he had successfully entered hyperspace before you crawled under the dashboard and settled yourself between his thighs. He looked down at you, giving you the perfect chance to see yourself reflected in his helmet. Slowly you ran your hands up his thighs, shuddering as you ran your fingertips gently over the beskar. Your left hand stroked his thigh while your right hands began to palm his crotch through the thick fabric. To your very welcome surprise you found that he was hard, he seemed to be just as turned on as you were. The fabric was thick, but you could feel him getting harder as your fingers ran over and gave a little squeeze, and it was then that you almost ascended into the next level of consciousness. His hand, his strong gloved hand, wrapped around yours and gave a squeeze.

The moan that you let out was unholy, and from above you heard a little sigh of approval slip from the helmet. Drunk on the confidence you'd just been given; you reached for his zipper and began to work at releasing him. He lifted his hips so you could push his pants and lower armor down to his ankles.

Now you'd never been a religious woman, not by any stretch of the imagination, but as you saw what this mysterious man was hiding underneath all the armor you felt compelled to thank whatever was out there. Again, you let out a moan. You reached out to grab the base of his cock and slowly began to pump him, trying to commit every ridge and vein to memory. But it was too dry, and no doubt uncomfortable for him, so you reached between your legs and pushed aside the thong that was painfully damp to gather some lubrication. Quickly you returned your now wet hand to his cock and started to pump, your thumb swirling the tip and gathering all the precum he had to offer. This time it was his turn to let out a moan, and god were you thankful for it. Even with the modulator, you could hear how gritty it was from having a dry throat. And that's when you decided to say fuck it and go in for the gold. Leaning back on your haunches and grabbing onto his thighs with a still sopping wet hand, you took all of him into your mouth.

His whole body shook, overwhelmed with the sensation. You took your time, tracing your tongue up and down his cock, occasionally swirling your tongue around the tip.

"F-fuck," he muttered more to himself than to you.

One of his hands reached behind your head and grabbed hold on your ponytail in a death grip. Feeling his hand tighten around your hair drove you to just swallow him, your tight mouth struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. He wasn't unusually large, but Maker was he thick. As you sat there, viciously bobbing your head up and down, it occurred to you that tomorrow you wouldn't be able to comfortably eat food, and that thought spurred you on more. Your hand moved from his place on his thigh to cradle his balls, trying desperately to please him.

He could barely stand the sight of your big eyes looking up at him so innocently as you devoured his cock in the vilest way. He felt his stomach begin to tighten, hurtling towards a release that you both wanted. You could feel him starting to become rigid, and to compensate you sucked harder, hollowing out your cheeks, and moaned into him.

That was all it took. He tried to pull himself off of you, to cum somewhere else but you pushed yourself down, gagging as ropes of cum painted this inside of your throat. The man who was so silent, so restrained, had turned into a moaning mess in your mouth. You waited, rubbing his thighs with your delicate fingers until he had finished before looking up at him and swallowing.

You pulled yourself off of him and he let go of his hold on your hair.

Crawling around him you got up and decided to go to the fresher and try to take care of yourself. Though he hadn't done a single thing for you, you were wetter than you had ever been before. That's when it hit you, this was the first time in your entire life that you had given a blowjob out of pure desire, no money or bribery to entice you. A small chuckle left your mouth as you started to descend the ladder when a voice called out for you.

"I'm not done with you yet."

#theutterlyboredwriter #the mandalorian #mandalorian smut #mandalorian x reader #smut #the mandalorian x you #reader insert #fanfic #din djarin #din djarin smut

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