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whowrotethenote · 2 days ago

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

Warnings // Slight smut // Profanity // Infidelity // Age gap // Angst

Word Count // 3k

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Tuesday, June 18, 2024

“Well, how the hell do they know if they really like each other or not? If it’s even genuine?” He asks his umpteenth question since he got comfortable behind me.

“They don’t know. That’s the whole point.”

“Huh?” I twist and tilt my neck at angle where I can see his perfect face. Thick brows hiking up and soft lips in a dumbfounded pout. I chuckle at both his ignorance and determination to grasp the concept of the show.

He came in an hour ago, looking depleted and ready for bed. Tried to coax me into taking a shower with him, but I declined because nine o’clock in the summer indicates something he clearly just doesn’t get. Love Island.

He emerged from the steamy bathroom, still wet and fine as ever. His attention pinned by the commotion that is Rob and Leah—he stood with just a towel tied on his waist and hands planted on his hips, in equal intrigue and confusion.

It became just as much a task for him to focus on getting dressed without falling, because he was too locked in on the TV— as it was for me to focus on the episode without drooling from seeing his god-like body. Every time is like the first time. Like witnessing an angel blasted from heaven the way I mindlessly gawked at him moving about the bus. Tonight was no different and it’s been well over a year.

Before I knew it, he had snuck his large frame behind mine in the center of the bed, allowing me to lay between his long legs, while resting my back to his front. Question after question like rapid fire from his mouth at this show he apparently had never heard of before tonight.

“If they recouple like they’re doing right now—that’s one way. Then, if a bombshell comes in, that’s another—”

“Andrea was a bombshell?”

“Right,” I confirm. “The biggest way is probably Casa Amour, which is coming soon.”

“Casa who?”

My shoulders shake with amusement. “Think of it as like their girl’s trip or guy’s trip away from the Villa. The boys and girls you see now are gonna separate. Then, they’re gonna bring in a whole group of bombshells for them to replace the original boys or girls they were living with.” I peak up at him to make sure he’s following. His slightly parting pink lips and damp hair momentarily suspending my attention. “They spend a few days getting to know the new group and doing challenges against the original Villa and stuff. Then at the end of Casa, they get to choose to either recouple with a bombshell or stay with the partner they originally had in the Villa.”

He shakes his head with a slight frown. “That’s no way to find love.”

“What do you suggest Pop Pop? Meeting at a Juke Joint?”

His finger is solid when he drives it into my side causing me to squirm. His large palm returning to its resting place, flat on my stomach after my laughing fit dies down. “I’m just saying, it seems more like manipulation than anything. Tactics and shit instead of naturally falling for someone. All these tests and whatnot.”

“Well, I think it’s cake compared to what they would deal with in the real world trying to date someone.”

“If you say so.” We catch each other at the same second. Him looking down at me while I peer up at him, pushing my head to rest on his shoulder instead of his chest.

“In the Villa they only gotta worry about the bombshells coming in and out. Out here, there’s people on social media and the people they meet in day to day life, posing as threats. You don’t think this is easier?” I point to the screen. Nicole standing separate from the pack, who’s waiting for her to announce which boy she plans to steal.

“Makes sense.”

“Oh—and at the end, the boy or the girl in the winning couple, wins money. They get to decide whether to keep it for themselves or split it with their person. I guess that’s another way they’ll know if it’s for real or not.”

“Oh—so there’s money involved?” He rolls his big eyes. “Well, now it’s all starting to make better sense. Everybody in there has their eyes on money.”

“Oh, hush.”

“Are they allowed to have sex on here?”

“Freaky frog,” I mutter, earning another round of tickles.

“I can’t imagine they expect them to sleep in the same bed for weeks, doing these challenges, swapping spit, and they can’t take out all that pent up energy.”

“They gets down, they don’t play. Production catches it on camera sometimes. Of course they can’t show anything too crazy.”

“Would you go? On Love Island?” He asks after a moment of silence from us.

Without taking my eyes from the screen, “probably not,” falls effortlessly from my lips.

“Going so hard for them and you wouldn’t put yourself in their shoes?”

I force a half smile, knowing he can see my face from his angle above me. I imagine myself, under the sweltering heat of Fiji, bikini snug on me, face freshly done. All smiles and laughing so hard with another islander as we lay in the daybed. Him—preferably older, toned, with tattoos. Eyes that sparkle whenever he looks at me. Jokes and memories I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Newly coupled. Falling deeply into one another and learning ourselves without the noise of this selfish world. The possibility of love swaying above our heads.

Just when everything feels perfect—the voice of yet another islander asking to pull him—my man—for a chat.

Here in the real world, I’m clueless. I have no idea what happens when Joe, or even Jaire, is not in my sight. Joe lives an entirely different life outside of me. I’m completely aware of that, but I don’t have to see any of it. Out of sight and somewhat out of mind. I’m left to the possibilities.

But on an island where the goal is to find love as quickly as possible, having to see his connection rise with another? Having my eye on every single prospect? Watching them go through their own ups and downs? The bubbling of my stomach at the fire pit, waiting for him to choose between us, not having a clue of what thoughts loom in his head, while only knowing what he tells me?

Love Island is not for me. Love Island is not for the weak.

“I think I take my statement back about this being easier than real life,” I confess to him. Mindlessly staring into the screen, still in a daze of the scenario I’ve painted.

He laughs behind me. “You alright?”

I crane my neck to look into his chiseled features. “I’m cool.”

“You sure?” He pushes.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

I suck my teeth, unable to hold the laugh in. “Yeah,” I reiterate.

His face is leaning down, closing the tiny space between our faces. My eyes fall to his lips right before they meet mine. It starts as one peck. Then another. And another, right before his thick tongue swipes my lips asking for entry and I give it to him. Love Island becoming nothing but background noise.

The loud smacking of our mouths colliding and the light growls slipping from his throat—it’s like music to my ears. It’s exotic. It’s sensual. The wheels in my core turning. I can feel the tiny yet powerful heartbeat of my clit jump to life. The hot slickness at the opening, ready for him. He doesn’t even have to do much. A kiss is foreplay enough.

My hand finds its way into the thick hairs of his beard. Rubbing, pulling and tugging—soliciting a deep grunt from his mouth into mine. I smile into the kiss, stuck between wanting to rip his pants off and just get it over with or taking my time like we are now.

At the same moment the friction of the cotton tube top I have on, moves snug across my aching nipples, is the same moment his large hand comes over it. Grabbing the whole thing in his palm and squeezing. Pinching the peak and now I’m the one making noises. A low gasp escapes me in between the kiss—squirming and pushing my chest out, silently begging for more.

He slips both hands under the elastic band responsible for holding the thin fabric of my shirt up on my chest. The connection of skin to skin, starting another fire in me. He pulls it down and my nipples harden even more meeting the cool air of his condo.

But he blankets them—his hands moving and going to work—kneading them and cupping them like he’s building sandcastles. I fully understand how women can get there by way of just nipple play if their partner’s hands were as skilled as the man’s hands behind me.

Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!

His phone damn near shakes the bed when it vibrates. But it’s not just one or two. It’s a consistent rhythm of one buzz after another, signaling a call in place of a text. Splitting our world to shreds. The dark clouds moving in. It sounds like the alarm clock at seven a.m. sharp when you’ve just made the passing into slumber a mere two hours before.

An uneasy warmth spreads in my chest. Breaking the kiss to catch the picture on his screen of them. Their eldest tucked between them. Six letters followed by a red heart.

“Joe,” I whisper, barely audible. The most desperate attempt to stop the current porno unfolding, even with the heat of his breath on my neck now. Thumbs padding over my nipples, daring me to lose focus.

“Ignore it,” he demands in a soft whisper back. It’s as if he presses a magic button because the call stops, returning to the home screen.

My head is split down the center. Imagining what she could be calling for, envisioning the worst case scenario. Something’s wrong and because her car fell on death ears, she’s on her way here now to get him—is what my delusional mind comes up with.

But his hand slithers under the elastic of my shorts next. Rubbing slow but deliberate circles on the sensitive skin, eliciting the music of my moans, like the most skilled DJ you’ve ever known. And pleasure is no longer just occupying one half of my mind. It’s robbed the other half blind.

“Mm,” I groan out. Unable to keep still, my hips push up into his hand. I twist my head back up to catch his eyes. He’s so focused. Eyes bouncing off my face, recording every change as he goes to work. He offers his thick tongue for me to take as we bury ourselves in each other’s mouths once again. Hungry as ever. I can cum just like this. As long as he doesn’t stop feeding me his tongue and massaging my clit. Our breathing kicks up. My mind goes to another place, picturing how hard he must be. The fatness of it. The veins. The curve. The pink tip. And now I need it in my mouth.

Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!

I break the kiss again, but his hand is quick when he takes my chin between his thumb and pointer to bring me back.

“Joe—it could be important,” I reason. I take the last teeter of strength I have to push those words out. God knows I don’t want to stop, but I’m way too in my head to continue now. That’s two calls back to back.

His stare is pinned on my face, unmoving, for a good fifteen seconds or so. As if he’s waiting for me to change my mind. But the vibrations—it just keeps going. Seemingly ringing louder and more ferocious with each one. Practically screaming at me.

The air in the room changes completely. It was hot and steamy—suffocating—filled with want and a need for connection. Now it’s cold. Ice cold with nothing but the truth and reality, bring the spirit of the room down. And now I’m wondering—is this coldness our default? Should it stay like this? Because the switch up is unbearable.

I pull my shirt back over my chest with a pop of the elastic band. Scooting off the bed, with pursed lips and stickiness on my other ones. Cutting the haunting sound of his vibrating phone off, I slide the balcony door closed and it meets the frame harder than I intend for it to. The humidity of the late night Miami air mocking me—mimicking the intensity that just rested in our hands and slipped away. Fuck me.

I plop down in the lounge chair. Arms folded across my chest, blowing out the heaviest breath, but even as it leaves me, my chest doesn’t feel any lighter. I don’t feel any lighter. This feeling still rests heavy on me.

Bright lights of the city staring back at me. The ripples of the eccentric blue water from the pool, not too far from me. All this beauty—all this life. I should be happy—and I was—but now I don’t know what the fuck to be. I don’t have any control anymore. I never really did.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I turn my head to see him through the glass. The phone stuck to his ear, while his hand just keeps going. Mouth just moving through the frown. Brows furrowed and straining. I can feel all the angst of the phone call even with the separation of the glass. I turn back before he can notice. My stomach doing somersaults.

She’s never called this late. At least not to my knowledge. Is someone hurt? Is she just wondering where he is? Did he just leave there to come here? I’m sure it’s not the first time he’s just up and left. She has to know. Doesn’t she? I rub the side of my head as the questions come swarming in.

The sound of the door sliding open breaks my thoughts and my heart—hearing his keys jingle in his hand with every step he takes to me. His large frame comes into view as he stares into the side of my face. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even have to.

The water from the pool is unbearably loud. I laugh to myself, finally meeting his gaze. The look of sympathy and sorriness, painting the sickest picture on him.

“You have to go…” I blurt out the words he doesn’t seem to have the heart to. Those brown orbs falling down at the ground immediately, then back out to the water. Every where but me at first.

The free-flowing water of the pool catches my attention. Mocking me. Representing something so jaded. The illusion of freedom. The water looks as if it's free to roam and do as it pleases, but it doesn’t belong up here. The ocean, the bigger body, that represents actual freedom is where it belongs. Up here in the molded pool, it’s limited. It feels free because it doesn’t know anything else—it doesn’t know the sea.

I don't know the sea and I never will. Not with him, anyway. I’ve been fooling myself. Since graduation, I’ve molded myself here, as if I belong. As if him being here with me is okay. As if this fixed freedom is the reality.

The reality is—when his wife calls, he has to go. When reality comes knocking, I’m reminded, that this condo is merely a pool. It’ll never compare to the real thing. The real thing we’ll never be able to grasp because he already has his own real thing.

Even after I’ve waited in here all day for him—one call and he has to go.

“Are you going to be here when I get back?”

“—I don’t know.” I spit in a clipping tone. No room for feedback. No room for his thoughts. I really don’t care for any of it right now. Won’t change anything.

I have no one to be angry with, but myself. I did this. I signed the dotted line just as he did. I knew exactly who he was and what this was.

Awareness didn’t ease anything. It doesn’t suppress this feeling. This heat brewing in my chest. The tears stinging my eyes.

I hate him. I hate this condo. I hate Miami. I hate this pool. I hate how he balances my emotions on a string like I’m his puppet for play. Hate how one look from him, eases everything while still lighting it all ablaze. I hate it all.

“Your life will always feel like a prison if you keep hiding from the people in it.”

I’m used to taking the crumbs and being grateful for just that. Lately, I don’t know if it's enough anymore. Something is changing. Switching from him to Jaire is eye opening. I turn around and give the same crumbs to one, that I’m receiving from the other.

Inconsistency is worse than nothing at all. I’m starting to see that, now. And this is what my mother meant. I fear I won’t be leaving this the same way I came in it.

I look up at him as my words linger. He doesn’t respond and he barely moves—frustrating me even more. Next thing I know I feel his lips press into the side of my forehead and it the levy that held my tears back breaks. Crying is redundant. It changes nothing. Neither him nor I deserve anyone’s tears. There are no victims here. God, I hate this.

And just like that he’s gone. When he’ll be back—a mystery.

All I want is to call Demi and tell her about this shitty ass night. And I can’t even do that.

Loveless Island. That’s where I’ve been residing. And clearly I am on this island alone.

A/N // so this short is sort of a prequel to another short that will come later titled Hate Sleeping Alone.

poor Lana bear. *sighs loudly*

next thing i post regarding Biggest Fan will finally be part 4 Desires. we finally will get to see the aftermath of what happened in A Better View.

i kind of want to update Tribal Killer first, but when do i ever stick to my plans? smh

as always, if you read it or even a portion of it, i am forever grateful💗 feedback is welcomed.

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cheolliecherie · 3 days ago

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𝘣𝘧! 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘵. 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘯.

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳! (𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤), 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘷𝘵 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳. (𝘐𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘭! 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵).

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘯, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘱𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴. 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥: 𝘞𝘦𝘥. 𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘺 2𝘯𝘥 2025/ 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥: 𝘍𝘳𝘪. 𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘺 4𝘵𝘩 2025

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵. (𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 �� 𝘵𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦).

𝘵𝘸: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘢. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

𝘸𝘤: +2.1𝘬

He hated that he couldn’t be there with you, his schedule overlapping with the time of the surgery, but he’d meet you as soon as he was done. You couldn’t go alone, and even if you could, he wouldn’t let you. Your mom was out of the question. She was… Too sensible to even witness a single drop of blood or needles and it would only make you more uneasy having her near given the circumstance (sorry, mom). Your dad was recovering from a seemingly small mishap but you knew he wasn’t all well and wouldn’t bother him asking him to accompany you knowing he needed rest. So, your boyfriend suggested Jeonghan and Vernon to be your personal bodyguards, both readily agreeing without missing a beat.

Don’t get it wrong, you love the boys, but just thinking about them having to deal with you 1.) after the surgery and 2.) still high out of your mind, had you mortified, so you tried your best to reject their kindness. But there was no room to argue with them and your boyfriend when you knew you didn’t have anyone else to bring with you on your side.

So there you are that morning sitting in the waiting room in comfy clothes for what was to come, both boys sitting at each of your sides. You’re sleepy since you had to wake up hours ago for an early breakfast as those were the doctor’s instructions. And at this point you’re hungry, the doctor running late and you really, really are considering leaving. Thinking about having to book a new appointment, anxiously waiting again, and both of the boys who took time out of their day to be there for you is what makes you stay.

Some time before the doctor arrives, a nurse calls you into an operating room to get you ready. She starts telling you about how the following hours and days after the surgery are going to be, and the boys, who came in with you, also listen attentively even though you’ll receive all the instructions later on on paper too. When everything’s set, the nurse leaves the room and it’s just you three for a moment.

You’re fidgeting. You’re not scared. Not exactly. Needles don’t scare you, you’re not squeamish about blood nor pain. But you’d never had any type of surgery before, never had issues with your teeth before your wisdom teeth decided to surface. And possible complications afterwards make you nervous. Also, as you’ve been saying for a while - and the boys have done a decent job trying not to laugh about it (at least not when you’re looking)-, you’re going to look like a squirrel with your face all swollen, or so you’re worrying about. And they’re going to drug you (sedate you, for the correct term. Plus the doctor said you’d be conscious anyway, just not really aware of what’s happening). You’ve never been on drugs. What if you start laughing like a maniac? Or cry? Or try to do or say something embarrassing?

“Hey,” Vernon reaches for your hand from where he sits beside you, and you look up to see a small smile gracing his features to pair with his reassuring words. “It’s going to be okay. You won’t even notice a thing and then we’ll be out of here.”

_____

Conscious my ass.

The moment the doctor came in and the boys were out of the room to wait for you outside, the sedative running through your veins, you were out like a light. Which was part of what you feared in the first place. But there wasn’t much you could do while you were asleep.

_____

“The surgery’s over. You may come in now to see her. You might have to wait a little more until she wakes up and some more before she can be moved for you guys to take her home. If you have any more questions I’m right here. I hope she has a fast recovery.”

The boys walked in, and there you were. The doctor had just changed the gauze on the extraction sites again when they saw your eyes slowly blinking open. The man exited the room after confirming everything was okay, repeating some instructions and good wishes of recovery, and it was just the three of you.

“We’re here.” Vernon spoke gently to you as you little by little came back to yourself -but not really-. You blinked up at him dazily, and some unconscious part of you brought your worries to surface, as you started gesturing like you were trying to cup your face. You really were worried about your face being ridiculously swollen, even with the drugs still in your system. It took the boy a minute to catch on. Nothing was supposed to be hurting since they told them the area would be numb for a few more hours but still he wanted to make sure you were okay. “What is it?”

Then started the giggle fit.

Both boys stared at you, hesitant smiles trying to break through as they took in the scene. You tried gesturing again, this time moving your hands exaggeratedly far from your face. Then more giggles.

“C’mon, man, just sneak out five minutes. Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Jeonghan whispered as he held up his phone towards an unsuspecting you and the ever caring Vernon. Seungcheol picked up the facetime call after two more rings.

“Is she okay?” But he shut up as soon as he heard your laugh while Vernon talked to you.

“No, don’t worry about that. You’re okay.” He kept trying to sooth you but couldn’t help but laugh too.

Seungcheol smiled as he looked at you, laughing and still trying to cover your face. ��Everything’s okay. We’re just waiting until we can get her up to take her home.” Offered Jeonghan, staring at the scene with amusement.

“Hey, baby.” Hearing Seungcheol’s voice, you perked up and looked for the source, stealing your attention from Vernon, its warm familiarity instantly drawing you in. Vernon also turned to see Jeonghan holding up his phone, its screen towards you both with his hyung was on call and greeted him.

You stared, eyes still hazy but now with something else. Then suddenly, they saw your face blush before you quickly faced away (quickly enough to startle the boys since you weren’t supposed to make sudden moves, Vernon’s hand shooting forward to steady you just in case), trying to block yourself from view, hands once again trying to cover your face.

Seungcheol’s brows shot up, a little stunned by your reaction, then chuckled. “What is it, baby? Why aren’t you letting me see you?”

“You got her shy.” Jeonghan laughed.

The smile wouldn’t leave Seungcheol’s face. How you were acting just now summoned the memory of when you first met. When he had approached you to ask you something that day, there was something simply just in the way you’d looked at him and the soft tone in your voice before suddenly it seemed like too much for you to look at him and you had turned slightly away (even though you really, really wanted to keep looking at him), your face growing hot. You thought you’d ruined the entire interaction and he’ll think of you as rude for breaking eye contact like that, but then you met by chance again and he greeted you with his bright smile. Oftentimes, he’d tease you about him being so handsome for you to handle, and you’d pout but you’d allow it. He wasn’t wrong, and not so secretly you loved when he was confident about himself. Never came off as someone arrogant or full of themselves. He just looked happy.

“I love you. I’ll see you very soon, okay?”

_____

Seungcheol arrived, and immediately asked how you were doing.

“Just checked up on her again. She’s still sleeping.” Jeonghan answered from the couch. When you’d arrived, they asked you if you wanted to eat or sleep. You were knocked out in bed minutes after. After a while you woke up from your nap, finally aware of yourself and your surroundings, showered, ate something and went back to bed to rest some more.

When Vernon walked into the room, an excited glint shone in Jeonghan’s eyes. “You have to see this.”

“What did you do?” Seungcheol asked, squinting his eyes while looking at them both warily.

“He said you’d love to see it.” Vernon pointed an accusatory finger at Jeonghan in an attempt to exempt himself from any fault.

“Then why is it in your phone?” Jeonghan countered as the younger one pulled out said phone.

“Becau- She had yours!” He silent-screamed, being mindful of you resting in the room nearby. "You were the one recording!" They bickered some more but it was pointless.

Vernon handed Seungheol his phone. In it there was a video of you, sure enough, holding Jeonghan’s seemingly after their videocall had ended. You were staring at Seungcheol’s contact picture; a candid picture from a while back. Honestly, Seungcheol didn’t think it flattered him too much, which of course was the reason his best friend had chosen it.

You were looking between said picture and the boys, curiously. “You like it? Don’t you have that one on your album of his?” he heard Jeonghan tease. You did have it. Not that you were aware of that at the moment. You shook your head, then pointed at it.

“Seungcheol hyung.” You looked at Vernon when he spoke up, trying to guess what you meant. “That’s him.” He smiled at you as you looked at him, then down at the picture again as if he’d handed you the answer to everything.

Jeonghan laughed. “Darling, that’s your boyfriend.” You laughed, gently shaking your head and eyes falling shut, thinking he was messing with you. “This is hilarious.” He whispered to Vernon.

“She’s falling for him all over again.” The younger one chuckled.

“See that, Seungcheol?”

The video went for a little longer as the boys finally were allowed to get you to stand to head home. You kept giggling and waving at everyone you saw on the way to the car, and Seungcheol smiled adoringly at the screen at the scene, at how you were always so kind, and how every time the boys tried to convince you they were saying the truth about you and him you would laugh and shake your head like you couldn't believe it.

(You’d definitely hate them if you found out about the video. That’s why Seungcheol just asked Vernon to send it to him to keep safe and not mention it again to anyone).

_____

Later, you wake up. It’s just you and your boyfriend now. He’s dressed comfortably now that he’s home. Sitting up on the bed beside you, absentmindedly tracing your arm with his finger and really about to fall asleep himself. But then he sees your eyes flutter open.

“Hey”. He smiles at you. “How are you feeling? Good?” You nod slowly. He gently brushes some hair from your face. Your face is slightly puffy from sleep but not really too swollen, which is good. “I’ll bring you something to eat and then I’ll get you some ice, okay? If you feel any pain let me know and I’ll get you the medicine.” You nod, so grateful for how attentive he is.

He goes to stand up from where he’s sitting beside you on the bed, but stops.

His phone dings. A message from you.

What is it?

You watch as his infamous pout takes over his features. “I just realized this is going to be tougher than we thought,” He says, turning to look at you, “‘cause I won’t be able to kiss you for a while.”

________

After the first week since your surgery passes by, you join Seungcheol and go meet the boys. Some of them, including Jeonghan and Vernon, visited you before, but now there’s all of you together.

They greet you both happily, asking how you’re doing. You update them telling them that thankfully your recovery’s going smoothly so far and of course you mention how Seungcheol has been on the ready to help you any time.

“We’re glad to hear that.” Mingyu says heartily.

“Can’t be too rough with her yet.” Jeonghan intends to mutter this so it reaches Seungcheol’s ears only, but the guys sitting closer to the two of them and you catch it, earning different reactions, Mingyu choking on his drink while Joshua laughs. Your face feels warmer but you try to act like you didn’t hear it, while your boyfriend nudges his friend telling him to shut up. “That goes to you too.” Jeonghan points a finger at you, not fooled knowing fully well you heard and blatantly exposing you.

Your eyes widen, fully blushing now, “What are you-…?” You look at Seungcheol for help but he couldn’t help but laugh this time, a faint blush betraying him.

“Don’t even try it. I’ve seen things.” He says, as if something had marred him for life.

#svt scoups #scoups #seventeen seungcheol #svt seungcheol #seungcheol x y/n #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader

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booksandteaandtears · 23 hours ago

Text

close calls: the first time

Dr. Jack Abott x f!attending!wife!reader

Summary: the first out of three times you and your husband almost revealed you were married before the events of That's your wife? sunshine version

masterlist

the first time

You'd bought new pink scrub because one of your six year old cancer patient's favourite colour was hot pink. That day was her surgery and you wanted to surprise her when she woke up. You'd put the scrubs in a tote bag, ready to take with you and get changed after the surgery.

You and Jack usually took turns washing both of your scrubs, so Jack thought you'd washed his scrubs and put them in the bag for him. He was in a hurry so he didn't check they were actually his, planning to get changed at the hospital. He didn't even notice there were two bags.

You left after him and took the remaining tote bag, not bothering to check the inside.

Fate had it that Jack had taken over a dayshift; any other day you would have noticed the switch up during your own shift and sent him a text so he'd know to take some other scrubs. But today you arrived at the hospital at roughly the same time, and you were in hospital issued scrubs for surgery the whole morning, so you didn't notice. When Jack stood in front of his locker to change and found bright pink scrubs, he was frozen for a second.

He tried to reach you, but got your voicemail because you were already in surgery. This scrub debacle was nowhere near important enough to call you out of surgery for on the hospital phone. He debated wearing you pink scrubs for a minute, hating the cheap hospital scrubs, but decided against it because it would be too big a contrast to his usual black. There was enough gossip on the ER floor without their depressed attending turned up in scrubs that looked like they had been steeped in a bath of markers.

Just as he was shoving the pink scrub top back into it's bag, Perlah stepped in. "Hi doc, trauma incoming, pedestrian versus moped, ETA 3 minutes." She stopped as she saw a flash of pink.

"You got some new scrubs doc? Hot colour."

Jack stared at her and felt some colour creep into his cheeks.

"It's not mine."

He regretted saying that as soon as the words left his mouth.

Perlah raised an eyebrow. "Not yours? Whose is it then?" He chose to remain silent. "I'll get you some other scrubs from the machine, ETA for that trauma is 2 minutes now, it's gonna be a bloody one."

Jack cursed when he shoved his bag into his locker. It had to be nurse Perlah walking in at that exact time, now the entire ER would know within he had brought pink scrubs that day, and the rest of the hospital would know by noon.

Half an hour later Jack was sitting at the desk under the guise of checking some files, but secretly trying to catch his name in the Tagalog that Perlah was whispering to Princess.

He did catch some dramatic gasps and giggles, but not his name. He just had to pray she'd keep it to herself a little longer.

Dana was looking at him from the other side of the room, very aware that his eyes weren't moving across the screen, but focusing on an empty bed in the corner.

She cleared her throat. "Have you learned Tagalog in the past week and are you eavesdropping or are you waiting for a certain name to come up."

Jack looked at her and stared. "Perlah told me she saw you with some hot pink scrubs in the lounge. Did you have a switch up this morning or do you want to change that boring black costume you doctors decided on? I for one would like a nice burgundy for the nurses while you're at it, we'll match with all the blood around here."

Jack sighed and nodded. "This is what happens when I leave my gloomy night shift, things go wrong and I end up with my," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "wife's scrubs."

Dana knew about your marriage, of course. Her and Jack had been friends for a long time, so she'd met you long before you started working at the PTMC. You'd met Dana for after work wine hour dozens of time, had babysat her kids when she was filling in on the night shift. You'd even talked her into coming back to the Pitt after she told Robby she'd leave, because you were absolutely sure she would regret it for the rest of her life is she'd have actually left. Both Dana and Robby had been sworn to secrecy about who you were by Jack the minute you'd started working there.

Dana broke into a smile, the wrinkles near her eyes tilting upwards. "I'll cover for you when she comes down, don't worry about it. She told me about the kid she wants to surprise, texted me a pic of the scrubs last night."

Jack nodded his thanks. "You're a godsend Dana." "I know, I know," She said while walking off, "I do expect a coffee and some sweet treats for my good deeds though!"

That afternoon you snuck down to the ER, hoping to go into the lounge, grab you scrubs and get out as fast as possible, and hopefully flee without anyone noticing.

You'd contemplated not wearing the scrubs that afternoon, but the thought of how happy your patient would be had won out in the end.

You'd made it into the lounge, opening Jack's locker (the passcode was your birthday, easy guess), and had grabbed the bag when you heard the door open behind you. You quickly shut the locker and turned around, hiding the scrubs behind your back.

"Hi Mel, good to see you! How have you been?" Mel's eyes lit up when she saw you. "Hi, I wasn't expecting you here! It's good to see you, did you get called down for a consult?"

You blinked at her for a second before adapting to the situation at hand. "uh- Yes! I got paged down a couple minutes ago. Didn't see what is was for though. I was trying to find Dana so she could tell me. But I guess she's not here!"

Mel looked over her shoulder out of the door she was holding open. "She was at the desk last I saw her? I think she's been there for the last ten minutes?"

Fuck, you should have told Mel you were looking for someone else, of course Dana was going to be at the desk. That's were she's supposed to be.

"Ah, yes. Should have looked there to start with of course. My brain's mush from surgery, sorry."

Mel smiled back at you. You were sorry to lie to such a sweet face.

"That's alright! I'll come with you to Dana, I'd like to do some more pediatric cases so I'd love to tag along, if that's alright with you?"

"Of course, doctor King!" You said brightly, "You're always welcome to."

You gestured for her to leave first, your face falling as soon as she'd turned her back on you. This was going great; you were nearly caught, had to lie to such a sweet girl, that was now also excited to help you with a case that you had made up and did not actually exist, and you were still hiding the scrubs behind your back awkwardly.

You should have just bought a pink plushie instead of going through all this trouble.

Jack saw you leaving the lounge, but he had his finger in a chest wall to properly place a chest tube so he was not in the position to save you.

Dana was staring at the board trying to figure out who to kick out to get some beds free when you called for her.

"Dana! You lovely human being, I have not seen you in so long, how are you sweetheart?"

Dana turned and smiled at you. "Well if that isn't my favourite surgeon. You down here to pick up the scrubs that Ja-"

Your eyes widened in emergency, gently nodding to Mel right beside you. Dana got the message and scrunched her forehead in apology for nearly exposing you.

"I just told Dr. King I was looking for you. I got a page a couple of minutes ago?"

You tried to convey to Dana that you needed her to cover for you by enunciating the word page extra clearly.

Dana raised her brows at you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes . "We currently have zero patients under the age of 25. But I've got a confused old man who came here in his wife's clothes? Maybe you can help him out?"

You blinked. Fuck. Dana was having too much fun digging your grave.

"Ah. Must have been an error then. I'll... pass on the old man, they need me back upstairs."

Mercifully, Jack was free to save you right then.

"Hi there." He greeted you and turned to Mel. "Dr. King, could you check in curtain four? Whitaker's been in there to take a LOL's history for the last twenty minutes, he might need some saving."

Mel accepted happily and left Dana, Jack and you alone at the nurses' station. You were still clutching the scrubs behind your back.

Dana started laughing.

"You should have seen her face Jack, she was terrified of trying to trick Mel, the poor thing. Can't even lie to keep her own secrets."

You sighed and leaned into the desk, dumping the scrubs on top. You buried your face in them. "You almost spilled our secret Dana, that's not funny." You whined through the fabric.

Dana squeezed you arm. "Don't worry pet, I stopped saying Jack's name as soon as I saw her. I'm sorry it got so close. I shouldn't have teased you after, but the look on your face was amazing."

You squeezed her back. "That's alright. I'm just wound up from surgery, I actually liked your joke about the old man."

Jack chose to ignore those words and turned you towards him, hands on your shoulders, his eyes finding yours and staying there. "How was surgery? Everything went well?"

You nodded at him. "Only some minor complications, but nothing that wasn't within the line of expectation. She's due to wake up any minute now."

Jack squeezed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry about you having to come down. I should have checked the bag before I left. You were so excited about your new scrubs last night I should have realised you were taking them in the morning."

"It's fine, Jack. I should've checked as well."

You stood there for a second longer, not willing to let go of his hand on your shoulders.

He smiled at you and let go, reaching for the scrubs to hand them to you.

"Nobody questioned anything, right Jack?" You asked and Jack nodded. "Nobody noticed. We're still a secret."

You smiled and mouthed "I love you" before sneaking off to the lift.

Perlah had been watching for the past five minutes. The bright pink scrubs she saw first with Dr. Abbot this morning and now leaving the floor in your hands were starting to make sense. She was also an excellent lip reader.

She turned around to look for Princess to discuss her findings when Dana caught her. "Don't." Said the charge nurse, "They want to keep it a secret, they've got their reasons. Don't spoil it. I'll know who spread the rumour."

Perlah kept your secret.

Abbot bought Dana a very nice coffee and a cake the size of a small child, because he knew very well how much she did to keep Jack and your's secret.

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emeraldserenade · 2 days ago

Note

I'm sorry I forgot to add but can you add joaquin calling the reader mami in the ceo fic please!!!

(i need him to call me that more than I need oxygen atp)

CEO Fiancée ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Joaquín and his badass CEO girlfriend who becomes his fiancée

tw: fem!reader, alludes to sex, CEO!reader, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Am I using this extra addition to the original request as an excuse to write another CEO!reader x Joaquín??? Yes, yes I am.

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín met you before you were the CEO, but he knew you would be. You were driven and didn't take anyone's shit, but you were nice. It's why Joaquín fell for you, how nice you were even when you didn't need to be.

Joaquín's sister, Liliana, loved you for it too, you would joke and play around with her kids but you'd hold them accountable for what they did. Never letting them guilt you into not apologizing for their actions or get away without repercussions.

So when you did become CEO of some company, even managing to steal it from the old CEO's initialed nephew, the Torres family celebrated with you. You, Joaquín, and Sam all flew down to Miami to celebrate. Maybe it was because you finally reached your goal or maybe it was seeing you with his nieces and nephews, but Joaquín was ready to propose to you from the moment you hugged his mom.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Mamá?" Joaquín walked up to his mom in the kitchen. You were locked into an intense game of Flip 7 with Sam, Liliana, and Matteo, Joaquín's little brother.

"Yes, Quino?" Joaquín's mother, Esperanza, looked at her oldest son, he was nervously twiddling his thumbs.

"I want to marry her," Joaquín whispered, his eyes cutting to where you were laughing as Sam busted.

"Good, she's good for you and you're good for her," his mother reached into her pocket and pulled out a box. "This was my mother's, she told me to hold onto it for whoever you decided was lucky enough to marry you," Esperanza told Joaquín. Joaquín gently took the soft velvet box. The ring was a simple band in your preferred metal with a single diamond on it, but it was huge.

"I'm the lucky one, mamá," Joaquín said, tucking the box into his pocket.

"No!" The two Torres' looked over to where you shouted. It was clear you busted by the way you pouted. Joaquín gave his mom a smile before walking over to you, kissing the pout off your face.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín started planning how he was going to engage as soon as he got the box. He was originally going to before you all left Miami, but he chickened out. He wanted it to be perfect and decided that there was not enough time to make it perfect.

"Ma'am, your boyfriend is here," your assistant, Helen, spoke from your door.

"Oh, tell him he can come in, please and thank you," you told her, a smile on your face. She nodded with a smile before disappearing. Joaquín walked in not even a minute later and you walked to meet him in the middle of the room with a kiss.

"Hi, mi amor," Joaquín smiled at you.

"Hi, baby," you smiled as he held up the bag of food.

"How's being a CEO?"

"Tiring, I understand why people are so grumpy when they are one," you joked.

"Not you though, you're still my sweet girl," Joaquín said and you laughed.

"I try," you smiled at him, staring at his face with a lovesick look.

"What's with the look?"

"Just love you is all."

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín dropped the ball with your engagement, he freaked out the day of and asked you. "Marry me?" Joaquín blurted out as you two were watching some romcom.

"What?" You turned to look at him with wide eyes.

"Will you marry me?" Joaquín asked again with more conviction. Joaquín pulled the box out of his pocket and opened it to you. "I told my mamá that I wanted to marry you and she gave me this. It was my aubela’s. She wanted me to give it to the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, and that's you. I love you more than life's itself and even though it would destroy me, I hope everyday that you die before me so you never have to know a day without me. So please, marry me?"

"I," you nodded, words failing you in the moment. Joaquín slipped the ring on your finger before kissing you. You both smiled into it before pulling away.

"The other's are going to be so mad, I had a whole thing planned," Joaquín admitted and you laughed.

"It's ok, this was perfect," you kissed him again.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín was right, the other's were upset but it was so Joaquín coded that no one was too surprised he just asked you. You were celebrating with friends before you two would take a trip back down to Miami to celebrate with Joaquín's family. "Having fun, mami?" Joaquín questioned as he slid his arm around your waist and kissing your temple.

"I am, can't wait to get home though," you mused.

"Tired?" Joaquín looked concerned.

"Nope, just can't wait to get my fiancé naked," you told him, causing Joaquín to smile wide at you.

"Oh, I see," Joaquín kissed you deeply before someone came to congratulate you two.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #mcu #marvel mcu #cabnw #cabnw spoilers #danny ramirez #danny ramirez x reader

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sixeyesonathiel · 4 hours ago

Text

love comes in small sizes

chapter three: glitter never really comes off (and neither do regrets)

pairing – ex situationship satoru x fem reader

summary : you and satoru have always been something—never labeled, never defined. from jujutsu high to stolen rooftop kisses, your dynamic is a mess of healing hands, half-confessions, and his infuriating habit of getting hurt just to keep your attention.

but when the weight of loss and pride tears you apart, you walk away—until fate (and a tiny, pink-backpack-wearing menace) drags you back into his orbit six years later.

tags –> canon divergence au, fluff, angst, humor, hurt/comfort, unlabeled relationship, grovelling satoru, secret child trope, reunions, miscommunications, second chances, happy ending for my own sanity, reader is petty for a valid reason

wc — 5.9k | prev. | series mlist. | gen. mlist. | next.

sometimes the world just throws you into things you’re not ready for.

like babysitting duty. like a daughter you didn’t know existed. or the sudden, terrifying responsibility of deciding what to do with the rest of the afternoon because the kid’s got nowhere else to go.

sometimes it feels like the world doesn’t ask, it just shoves you into the deep end and dares you to keep swimming.

satoru’s still reeling, still caught in the leftover adrenaline from the father’s day games, his mind spinning in endless circles, looping like a faulty carousel. shiyana—shia—had blackmailed him into the whole thing, her tiny hands planted on her hips, that sharp glint in her ceruelean eyes like she already knew he’d cave. she didn’t even have to try that hard.

and now here they are, two hours deep into this makeshift playdate, stranded in the middle of a crowded mall because he panicked and told her to pick where to go next. his throat had gone dry when she’d asked, and he thought, how hard can it be? it was supposed to be easy. a few more hours, then he’d drop her off and everything would fall back into place.

nothing feels easy now.

so here they are. the mall is a living, breathing monster, a symphony of clattering trays, shrieking kids, and the occasional dull roar of a blender whirring somewhere behind a juice stand.

somewhere nearby, a kid drops a soda, the plastic cup clattering to the tiles as the brown fizz puddles around his sneakers. a toddler waddles past with a balloon animal in hand, his dad trailing behind, muttering apologies as he dodges a teenager on roller shoes. teenagers huddle in corners, their laughter sharp, filling the space between store announcements and the tinny music piping from broken speakers.

satoru watches the scene in muted detachment, the buzz of overhead lights drilling into his skull, the greasy scent of fried dough and burnt pretzels clinging stubbornly to his sleeves. his jacket feels too heavy, his hair clings to the back of his neck. it smells like the kind of place he wouldn’t usually waste time in. he hates it. but he can’t leave.

he leans against the sticky food court table, the plastic surface still damp from a hurried wipe-down. his sunglasses slip down his nose, the metal bridge cooling against his skin. his jacket hangs a little too heavy on his shoulders, the fabric clinging to his neck in the humid air. a faint smudge of powdered sugar dusts his sleeve from brushing past a table.

across from him, shia wages war against a pile of fries, her tiny fingers moving with the speed and efficiency of a seasoned strategist. each flick of her pale hair is punctuated by the glint of her tiny blue barrettes, catching the light as she stubbornly tucks stray strands behind her ear. her hair sticks out in places from the day’s chaos, the ends slightly curled from where she probably slept on it funny.

her pink kindergarten uniform, now wrinkled and dusted with crumbs, hangs slightly crooked over her shoulder, one button undone where her backpack strap tugged at it earlier. her sparkly-laced sneakers swing under the table in a steady rhythm, scuffing faint gray lines onto the chair leg with each impatient kick.

a soft, familiar scent lingers in the air—vanilla and peach lotion, something that clings to her like a signature, cutting through the mall's thick haze. her lips are stained slightly red from the strawberry-flavored juice she insisted on earlier, and there’s a faint smear of chocolate near her wrist.

“you always eat this fast?” satoru asks, grabbing a fry from her tray, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.

shia doesn’t even hesitate. her eyes narrow, sharp and unamused. “that’s mine,” she says, voice clipped, chin tilting up like he just challenged her royal decree.

he pops the fry into his mouth with a grin, chewing leisurely. “finders keepers.”

“thief.” she snaps back, shoving another fry into her mouth with exaggerated flair, ketchup smudging at the corner of her lips. her sneaker scrapes loudly against the chair leg, a deliberate squeak that earns a glance from a passing waiter. her arms cross over her chest, the classic stubborn kid stance, though she keeps sneaking glances at her rapidly disappearing fries.

he huffs a soft laugh, the sound slipping out before he can catch it. leaning back, his jacket snags on the plastic seat, crumpling beneath him. his fingers tap restlessly against the table—a quiet rhythm, sharp and persistent. the hum of the lights needles into his ears, the chaos of the food court pressing in around him. his grin flickers, falters, half-alive as he watches her dunk a fry into her milkshake, the movement somehow cementing itself deep in his chest, like something he won’t be able to forget.

he’s still spiraling. still trying to wrap his head around it. his daughter. his daughter. five years. he’s missed five years of this.

she slurps her milkshake with abandon, the straw making that hollow, scraping sound that signals she’s already hit the bottom. she wipes her mouth with her sleeve, leaving a faint pink streak along the cuff. her feet swing in perfect rhythm as she chews, entirely absorbed in the art of food demolition.

“you gonna finish that burger, kiddo?” he asks, nodding toward her tray. his voice holds steady, the teasing lilt in place, but his thumb taps a frenetic rhythm against the table, the beat only he can hear. it echoes in his head, louder than it should.

shia glances up, her chin tilted, a glimmer of playful mischief in her eyes. “maybe. you can have one fry. but you already stole one, so...” she drags the pause out, fingers drumming theatrically against her tray. “i’ll think about it.”

he flicks his sunglasses up with a knuckle, pushing them to sit properly on the bridge of his nose, though they slip again almost immediately. his grin stretches wider, brittle at the edges. “so, what’s next on your royal agenda?”

shia leans back, savoring the final slurp of her milkshake, the sound obnoxiously loud, drawing amused stares from nearby tables. she dabs at her mouth with a crumpled napkin, her tiny hands moving with deliberate grace, as if she’s grown used to commanding attention. her legs dangle, her toes just barely brushing the edge of the chair.

“toy store,” she proclaims, her voice ringing clear over the din of the food court. she slides out of her chair with a soft hop, the glittery backpack on her shoulders bouncing with each step she takes. “now.”

she doesn’t wait. her sneakers squeak against the polished floor, her tiny frame weaving through the crowd with the kind of purpose that makes people step aside. she weaves between couples, past a teenage girl snapping selfies near the trash bins, through a pair of boys sharing a bag of candy, their voices trailing behind them in bursts of laughter.

satoru scrambles to gather their trays, tossing the trash with a clatter, his long legs closing the distance to her in a few easy strides. he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, pretending like his heart isn’t pulling something reckless in his chest.

“been here before, huh?” he asks, falling into step beside her, his voice lazy, casual, but he’s fishing. always fishing. always reaching for threads he missed.

shia steps onto the escalator like it’s a grand entrance, one hand gripping the rail, the other resting on her hip like she owns the place. her sneakers squeak with each tiny shift of her weight. “yep. mommy brings me sometimes. we just look, though. she says we can’t afford the good stuff.”

her words are too light, practiced. satoru catches the flicker—the slight scrunch of her nose, the way her voice dips, the tiny glance at her shoes before she forces her head back up.

his chest tightens, something sharp and familiar pressing beneath his ribs. he can see it, clear as day—you walking beside her, tugging her away from price tags, smoothing over quiet tantrums with promises of next time, not today. he wasn’t there. he could’ve been. should’ve been.

his fists curl in his pockets, nails biting into his palms. the laugh that bubbles out is too sharp, too loud, scraping his throat on the way out. “good thing you’ve got me now, huh?” he says, the grin that stretches across his face feeling dangerously close to cracking.

shia peeks up at him, her bangs brushing her lashes, her blue eyes glittering with something unreadable. but she just rolls her eyes like it’s nothing and steps off the escalator like she’s already moved on.

satoru follows, his sunglasses slipping down his nose again, and this time, he lets them fall.

his gaze lingers on her as she marches ahead, her glittery backpack bouncing with each determined step, her sneakers scuffing faint gray lines onto the polished tiles. a little boy runs past, clutching a balloon, his mother’s hurried steps trailing close behind. a mall security guard leans lazily against a pillar, sipping a coffee, his radio crackling with static in the background. a couple argues near a directory map, their voices low and tense, one of them gesturing sharply toward the exit.

“you got a favorite store?” satoru asks, his voice light, but the question tastes too heavy in his mouth. too many gaps. too many missing pieces.

shia glances over her shoulder, her lips twitching into something just shy of a smirk. “you’ll see.”

he lets her lead, lets her set the pace, lets her carve the path while he trails behind, watching the way her hair sways, the way she holds her arms like she’s already made her peace with the world. he memorizes the bounce in her step, the tilt of her head when she’s thinking, the way her hands sometimes curl into tiny fists when she’s focused.

they pause in front of a vending machine, its metal surface dented, one of the glass panels slightly fogged from years of sticky fingers pressing against it. the hum of the machine vibrates faintly beneath their feet.

“daddy,” shia hums, pressing her nose to the glass, her breath fogging a tiny circle on the surface, “think i can get two snacks if i shake it just right?”

satoru raises a brow, his grin tugging lazily at his lips. “you shaking vending machines now? what kind of habits are you picking up from your mom?”

“she says that’s illegal,” shia says, but she tests the side of the machine with her sneaker anyway, delivering a soft kick that barely rattles the frame. her reflection warps slightly in the glass, her tiny fist pressing against the side as she inspects the rows of snacks.

he hums, pretending to consider it. “i won’t tell if you won’t.”

her laugh bursts out, bright and unfiltered, and satoru catches it, folds it into his chest, stores it somewhere quiet, somewhere he knows he’ll reach for later when it’s just him and the silence.

“come on,” she says, already moving again, her steps light, her pace steady. “toy store’s this way.”

he trails after her, his hands still shoved into his pockets, his chest still aching, but his steps are a little lighter than before.

satoru decided the moment they stepped into the toy store that he would let her buy anything she wanted.

maybe it was guilt, maybe it was pride, maybe it was just him being weak to those sharp little blue eyes, but the decision was easy. if she wanted it, she could have it. no questions. no rules. he would spoil her rotten, until the bags tore, until his wallet thinned, until she ran out of shelves to empty.

it was the least he could do—a desperate, clumsy attempt to make up for years he never even tried to claim. he wasn’t there for the scraped knees, the wobbly first steps, the muffled bedtime stories. he wasn’t there, and maybe a mountain of glitter-covered toys could fill the canyon he left behind. he knew it wouldn’t, but he was desperate enough to try.

and shia—of course she took to the power like she was born for it. like she knew he wouldn’t say no.

the toy store was a pink and glittering battlefield, buzzing like a thousand angry bees trapped in plastic cages. the air was thick with the synthetic scent of strawberry-scented dolls and the sterile sharpness of freshly unboxed toys. fluorescent lights hummed relentlessly above them, reflecting off the gleaming tiles and casting long shadows behind display stands.

the faint chatter of other children echoed off the walls, some dragging their tired parents, some squealing in delight as they clutched their prizes, their high-pitched voices tangling in the air alongside the crackling music blaring from the speakers.

shia’s cart rattled ahead of him, her sparkly-laced sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as she zipped from shelf to shelf. her pale hair bounced with every quick turn, the blue barrettes clipped into her messy strands catching the light like tiny stars.

her kindergarten uniform was now wrinkled, a faint ketchup stain marking her collar from their earlier fast-food stop, her skirt slightly twisted from the way she’d thrown her backpack over one shoulder with her usual flair. one sock sagged around her ankle, stubbornly refusing to stay up, but she didn’t seem to notice.

she was fast, decisive, like she had memorized every inch of this place. her tiny hands swept plush unicorns into the cart, tiaras that immediately began shedding glitter like they had a personal vendetta, and dolls whose wide, glassy eyes seemed to track satoru wherever he went.

one particularly unsettling doll seemed to follow him with every step, its unblinking stare digging into his back until he finally turned it around to face the shelf, muttering under his breath about cursed objects.

she didn’t look back to check if he could keep up. she didn’t need to. she had him wrapped around her pinky finger, and they both knew it.

his arms were already full—overflowing with her overflow. the pile of plushies and wands climbed dangerously high, teetering with every step. a sparkly notebook pressed awkwardly against his ribs, its glitter dusting his black jacket like he’d rolled through a fairy explosion. the fine flecks clung to his sleeves, to his silver hair, to his sunglasses slipping down his nose.

he knew the glitter would haunt him for days, but he didn’t care. there was something about the way she paused at each shelf, her fingers brushing reverently over the toys, her gaze precise and searching, that twisted something in his chest. she didn’t just grab things at random. she studied them, inspected the stitching, squeezed the softness. she chose carefully, even in indulgence.

she was him, but softer. sharper in some ways, too.

“you’re gonna need a bigger cart, kid,” he called, adjusting the precarious mountain in his arms as a plastic wand poked him under his ribs. his voice was casual, but his grin was shaky, something stretched too thin over the mess churning in his chest.

“this is essential,” shia declared, tossing in another sparkly pony with a cotton candy mane. her voice left no room for argument. it never did.

his laugh stumbled out of him, too light, like it didn’t know where to land. it rattled in his throat, fragile, as his thoughts spun back to you—to where you might be right now, to whether you’d still slam the door in his face if he knocked. would you still think of him when the apartment got too quiet? when shia went to bed? did you ever?

he wanted to ask her. wanted to ask so much.

“hey,” he said, leaning against a shelf, ignoring the soft thud of a stuffed bear tumbling to the floor beside him. his sunglasses slipped further down his nose, and this time, he didn’t bother fixing them. “so, your mom… she got anyone special in her life?”

his voice stayed light, playful even, but his pulse thundered, pounding in his ears as he watched her closely, his fingers tightening on the squishy pink bunny wedged against his chest.

shia paused, her hand still clutching the pony’s plastic neck. she didn’t answer right away. her fingers combed through the toy’s tangled mane, slow, deliberate. when her gaze finally flicked up, her blue eyes pinned him in place, sharp and suspicious.

“you’re asking weird questions,” she said, squinting at him, tilting her chin as if she was piecing him together. “aren’t you mama’s friend? why don’t you know?”

his grin twitched, small and brittle. “we’re old friends,” he lied, shifting the weight in his arms, feeling the plushies wobble dangerously. “haven’t caught up in a while.”

she hummed, not entirely buying it, but too busy to argue. the toy aisle had her again, pulling her attention back as she steered her cart toward a rack of glittery backpacks, her fingers dancing over the sequins, flipping them back and forth to change the colors.

“mommy doesn’t date,” she said after a pause, her sneakers scuffing the polished tiles as she pushed the cart along. “she says my dad died. choked on a corndog. on a date. tragic.”

satoru blinked. the words landed like a slap. his grip tightened until his knuckles burned. a plush bunny slipped from his arms, flopping to the floor with a pitiful squeak.

“she said it was so embarrassing,” shia went on, wrinkling her nose, her smirk curling in that painfully familiar way that made his stomach twist. “who dies like that? he must’ve been dumb. mommy was really sad though. like, really sad.”

her voice softened, dipping just above a whisper as her fingers trailed over the edge of the cart, her thumb tracing slow circles against the handlebar. “sometimes i think about him. sometimes i miss him.”

she said it like she didn’t mean it, like it was just something to say, but her thumb rubbed those small circles into the cart’s handlebar, and her sneakers scuffed nervously against the floor, a little too long, like she didn’t know where to put that feeling.

“i bet he was boring though,” she added quickly, tripping over the words like she was scrambling to patch the softness she’d let slip. “i mean, if he made mommy cry, i don’t like him. i don’t miss him. he was stupid. choking on a corndog? that’s so dumb.”

satoru’s breath snagged, catching painfully in his throat. his chest caved in on itself, too tight, too small, and the hum of the fluorescent lights blurred into a low buzz in his ears, the synthetic sweetness of plastic pressing against his lungs. the other parents drifted past them, tugging along their children, oblivious to the way the world was collapsing in his hands. a cashier’s voice floated from the distance, calling for a price check on aisle seven, the ordinary pace of life moving on as if nothing had just cracked open inside him.

he wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, wanted to rewind it all. he wanted to tell her he was here, that he didn’t choke on anything, that he was real, that he should’ve been there. but he had driven you to that point, hadn’t he? maybe you killed him off in her head because it was easier than telling her the truth. maybe you hated him enough to bury him under a corndog. maybe he made it that easy.

“you okay, daddy?”

her voice yanked him back. she was watching him now, her head tilted, her pale hair falling over one barrettes, a plastic pony clutched tightly in her small hands. her blue eyes squinted up at him, sharp and knowing, like she already understood he was a terrible liar.

“y-yeah,” he choked out, clearing his throat, forcing his grin back into place. “just… thinking about that corndog. rough way to go.”

he winked, clumsy and weak, the gesture missing its mark. his fingers drummed restlessly against the edge of the shelf, tapping out a nervous rhythm he couldn’t seem to stop, his pulse tripping over itself.

shia huffed, unimpressed, already tugging her cart toward the next aisle. “c’mon,” she called over her shoulder, her glittery backpack bouncing with each brisk step, her sneakers squeaking against the floor.

he followed, his thoughts a frantic mess, his chest sinking under the weight of it all. she thought her dad was embarrassing. that he was dumb. that he made her mom cry. she said she didn’t miss him.

but maybe she did. maybe it was just easier to say she didn’t.

and maybe the worst part was… maybe he deserved it.

so he bought everything she touched. every toy. every plush. every glittering, plastic thing. because maybe that was the only thing he knew how to do. because maybe that was the only way he knew how to stay.

the thing about kids is they don’t know when they’ve gutted you.

they just speak, careless and bold, because the world hasn’t taught them yet how to bite their tongues, how to watch their words stitch and unpick a person apart. satoru’s pretty sure shia doesn’t know she’s tearing him open with every little thing she says. or maybe she does, and she just doesn’t care. either way, it’s wrecking him.

he’s leaning against his car now, sleek and black, its surface still warm under his palm, the soft hum of the engine coiling in the silence like it’s waiting for him to get his act together. the parking lot around them is a low buzz of activity—other parents wrangling their kids into backseats, shopping bags rustling, the occasional beep of car doors locking. his sunglasses dangle forgotten from his collar, and the faint glint of glitter still clings to his sleeves, to his hair, stubborn and inescapable, like her. like all of this.

shia is perched in the backseat, cross-legged like she owns the space, sorting through her loot with the precision of someone plotting a master plan. her tiny hands brush over her prizes, each plushie and trinket meticulously inspected and placed, as if she’s mapping out where they belong in this new kingdom she’s building.

the panda from the father’s day event pokes out of her backpack, its ear caught in her fingers, twisting and twisting like she’s deep in thought, like the soft fur is a stand-in for whatever’s weighing on her small mind.

“mommy can’t see these,” she says eventually, her voice dropping low, sharp with mischief, as if she’s inviting him into a secret. her gaze flicks up to him, conspiratorial, her sharp little blue eyes catching the soft shimmer of the fading sunlight. “she’ll know i went to the event.”

his heart stutters, tripping over itself in his chest.

“i’ll keep ‘em at my place,” he says, pushing off the car, trying to sound easy, like he isn’t clinging to this chance to stay in her life, even if it’s just as the keeper of her contraband. “plenty of room for your kingdom.”

she hums, tilting her head, her bangs shifting, half falling into her eyes before she absently pushes them back. “you’re rich.” it rolls off her tongue like it’s an absolute truth, like it’s the most defining thing about him now.

she lets that hang in the air for a beat, her eyes squinting, calculating. then, like it’s the next logical step in her thought process: “you should marry mommy.”

satoru nearly chokes, his hand shooting out to the car door to steady himself. the laugh that escapes him is unhinged, too loud, too brittle. a couple nearby glance over briefly before moving on, uninterested. his knees protest as he crouches to her level, his grin a messy thing tugging at the corners of his mouth, trembling where it shouldn’t.

“marry her, huh?” he says, aiming for light but landing somewhere closer to breathless. “think i’m good enough for your mom?”

shia’s lips purse, her sneakers scuffing against the pavement as she steps closer, still clutching the panda like it’s her most precious ally. “i guess,” she shrugs, but then her eyes glimmer, her brows arching with a mischief he knows all too well. “but you gotta be open-minded.”

“yeah?” he plays along, tilting his head, brushing a speck of glitter off his wrist. “about what?”

she darts her gaze around the parking lot, dramatic, as if spies might be lurking behind every car. the distant jingle of shopping carts rolls past. she leans in with all the gravity of someone handing off state secrets, cupping her small hand around her mouth. “mommy’s a fairy.”

his grin falters, slipping like sand through his fingers. “a fairy?” he echoes, soft, his fingers tapping a restless beat against his thigh.

“mm-hm,” she nods, stepping back with a sage little nod, her barrettes catching the light as she readjusts her backpack straps. “when i get scrapes or fevers, she makes them go away. her hands glow.”

her small fingers trace slow, deliberate circles in the air, her voice laced with quiet awe. “it’s warm. it’s pretty. it feels like… magic. like it knows how to find the hurt. it makes the bad stuff go away.”

his chest caves in, hollow and sharp. he remembers that glow. he remembers the way your cursed energy used to press into his wounds, the warmth of it, the way it sunk into his bones like it was home. he remembers the way your hands used to linger just a second longer than necessary, the way your brows would furrow, the way your thumb would brush along the edge of a bandage. it’s been years, but his body still remembers, still aches for it like a ghost limb.

he needs it back.

he can almost feel it now, buzzing under his skin, phantom warmth where your touch used to settle. the memory drapes over him like a fever dream he doesn’t want to wake from.

his grip tightens on the door until his knuckles sting, until his nails bite into his palms. “that’s pretty cool,” he rasps, but the words scrape up his throat, raw and splintered. “your mom’s always been… special.”

shia’s already busy rearranging her haul again, the secret dropped, the moment already past for her, but satoru stands there, gutted, dizzy with the sharp pull of want. of missing.

he never asked for your address. didn’t need to. shia just pointed, her chin high, her voice confident. “just drive. i know where to go.”

so he drives. lets her navigate him through unfamiliar streets, lets her giggle when he misses a turn, lets her scold him like she’s the adult and he’s the kid. the car fills with the sound of her swinging her legs, the occasional crinkle of plastic bags, the shuffle of toys being rearranged. he soaks it all in, stores it in the hollow places of his chest like it’ll keep him afloat.

when she finally tells him to stop, it’s not right at your door. it’s a street over, just far enough that it’ll look like she walked home from school all by herself.

“bye, daddy,” she chirps as she hops out, her backpack bouncing against her back, her sneakers hitting the pavement with quick, determined steps.

he watches her run, his throat thick, his hands clenched too tight on the wheel.

he doesn’t drive away.

you’re there—watering the blooms you’ve planted along the front walkway, your head bowed, focused, your hair falling like soft curtains framing your face. the sunlight curls against your skin, warm and familiar, gilding the curve of your cheek, catching on the delicate arch of your lashes. the soft rhythm of the watering can tapping against the leaves fills the silence.

shia collides into you, arms flung around your waist, her laughter echoing back to him, bright and unguarded. you startle, your shoulders jerking before you glance down, a slow smile blooming across your lips as you steady her, your free hand carding gently through her hair, smoothing the messy strands and crooked barrettes. your fingers linger at her temple, brushing something away, your movements slow, practiced, achingly familiar.

he can almost feel the way your cursed energy would’ve pulsed beneath your fingertips, that soft golden glow sinking into him like it always did. he can almost feel it humming against his skin, stitching the broken parts back together.

it guts him. it’s unbearable, how much he misses it. how much he misses you.

he lingers there, parked at the curb, drinking in the sight of you, of her, of what he’s missed, what he’s still missing. he watches until you guide shia inside, your hand resting gently on her back, until the door closes behind you, sealing him out of a life he still doesn’t know how to reach.

saturday mornings are usually quiet. not peaceful, not soft—just quiet. the kind of quiet that seeps into the walls, curling around chipped countertops and sunlit streaks on the floor. the kind of quiet that settles into the clinking of utensils and the slow, syrupy drip of maple from a fork left abandoned on the plate. the kind of quiet that usually tastes like routine, but today it clings to the air, strange and sweet, like something’s shifted just out of sight.

shia’s been in a strangely good mood today. suspiciously good. she hums to herself as she sways in her chair, legs swinging beneath the table, mismatched socks peeking out above her sparkly-laced sneakers. her hair clips stubbornly cling to her pale hair that tumbles past her shoulders in soft, tangled waves.

there’s a faint smudge of chocolate at the corner of her mouth, a forgotten souvenir from breakfast, but she doesn’t seem to care. there’s something light about her today, something untouchable, like she’s carrying a secret she knows she doesn’t have to share.

she slides into her pink cardigan with clumsy hands, her arms moving too fast, the sleeve twisted awkwardly around her elbow. she doesn’t even stop to fix it. “going to the playground,” she chirps, her shoes half-laced, her backpack bouncing against her spine as she races to the door. her tiny fingers fumble with the handle, too impatient to wait. the scent of her vanilla lotion trails behind her as she skips into the morning, sunlight glinting off the keychains jangling on her bag.

for once, you don’t stop her. you don’t remind her to finish her juice. you don’t tell her to fix her hair. you just watch as the door clicks shut, her laughter echoing faintly down the hallway. it’s like you can’t quite touch her today. like she’s floating somewhere just out of reach, her smile painted a little too wide, her steps a little too quick.

you head to one of your weekend jobs, your mind hazy, your thumb absentmindedly scrolling through the endless pta group chats on your phone. fee reminders, sign-up sheets, and ms. yui’s annoyingly enthusiastic messages pile on top of each other. ms. yui. your eye twitches. she always pretends to be friendly while reminding you that you’re behind on contributions.

you’re sure she’s the reason you owe more fees than you actually signed up for. you think you might actually hate her. she smiles too much. her handwriting’s too round. her fees are too high. she’s too good with the kids. and worst of all, she knows it.

your phone buzzes, and you brace yourself for the inevitable. another fundraising drive? another field trip you can’t afford? maybe she’s about to tell you that the school’s mascot needs a new costume and, surprise, you’re covering half the cost.

but it isn’t about fees.

it’s hearts. too many. exclamation points tumbling over each other. a breathless wall of giddy text that makes your stomach drop.

shia’s daddy came yesterday!! he’s soooo cool! tall, handsome, and so good with shia! she was SO happy! i didn’t know you two were co-parenting so well!!! he’s honestly such a dream, you’re so lucky!!

you stare at the screen. blink once. twice. the words don’t shift. they don’t rearrange into something that makes sense.

shia’s… what?

shia’s daddy?

no. no, no, no.

your fingers move stiffly as you type out a reply.

what does he look like?

the typing bubble appears. disappears. appears again. you grit your teeth, willing her to type faster.

white hair! blue eyes! sunglasses!!

your stomach drops. your breath lodges in your throat.

it’s him.

it’s always him.

the air feels sharp in your lungs, your grip tightening around your phone until your knuckles ache.

he found her. he sweet-talked her. he manipulated your sweet, innocent shiyana—your baby who would never lie, who would never scheme. she’s incapable of deceit. she’s your sunshine, your anchor, your world. he planted himself in her life like he belonged there. like he had the right.

he has no right.

he wasn’t there. he missed her first steps. her first words. he missed the nights she cried for you, the mornings she curled into your side. he missed the stories, the scraped knees, the lost teeth. he wasn’t there. he doesn’t get to just show up now and rewrite his name into her story.

you slam your bag over your shoulder, storming out of work without a word, your footsteps quick and sharp against the pavement. your heart beats too loud, too fast, each step vibrating through your ribs. your breath is ragged, heat prickling under your skin, but you don’t stop. you can’t stop.

you barrel through crowds, weaving between street vendors and bustling market stalls, the smell of grilled meat and sweet bread clinging to your senses, but it’s distant, unimportant.

the world spins around you, your thoughts replaying ms. yui’s giddy message, her stupid little hearts, her unprofessional simping. you already hated her before. now you want to block her, erase her from the planet. how dare she gush like that? how dare she laugh like you and satoru are a team? as if you’re coparents. as if you’re… something.

your pulse pounds in your ears, fury and disbelief bleeding into each frantic step. the heat clings to you, the summer air suffocating, but it’s nothing compared to the fire beneath your skin. you can see him in your head—smug, charming, twisting shia around his finger like she’s a new toy he’s decided to claim.

you should’ve known. of course he’d pull something like this.

you hammer your fists against his apartment door, the sound echoing down the hallway, your chest heaving, your hands trembling, the ache from the force blooming through your wrists.

“satoru gojo! open up!”

the door creaks open, hesitating like it knows what’s coming.

and there he is.

he’s wearing a plain white shirt, slightly rumpled, the collar loose against his neck. his sunglasses are pushed up into his hair, messy from where his fingers must’ve raked through it. his blue eyes widen when they land on you, his whole frame stiffening like he’s been caught mid-crime.

there’s guilt there. panic. like he’s bracing for impact, like he knows you’re seconds away from setting the entire building on fire.

he should.

because you’re about to bring it.

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gabbytvclarke · 3 days ago

Text

Whose Room? // George Clarke and Arthur Frederick

• Summary: Reader, George, and Arthur stumble back to their hotel, get stuck in an elevator, and play Put A Finger Down. • Pairing: Youtuber!Reader x friend!George Clarke and Youtuber!Reader x friend!Arthur Frederick (no George x Arthur) •Fluff to slow burn MILD SMUT (MDNI) • Warnings: Swearing, inclosed space, innuendos, NSFW discussions, sexual activities • Word count: 3,306 words • Note: This idea came to me in a dream of all places

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

The night summer breeze is sobering against her flushed cheeks as she bumbles out another pub, giggling with the two boys, their demeanour contrasting against their formalwear. The beauty of content creator events is that it’s all paid for, even all the cocktails and shots, alongside a room each in a nice old hotel. After spending the day influencing and the night drinking, the three decide it’s time to head back to the hotel.

“I do wish I wore better footwear though…” y/n mumbles as she begins removing her fanciest, yet most blistering shoes. “My feet are killing me.”

As she plants both unprotected feet to the Parisian concrete, Arthur clasps both hands to his head. “You can’t walk around like that, you might hurt your feet on broken glass or something!” He exclaims as he sprays the ‘dangerous’ floor with spit.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine Arthur, I’ll watch where I step.” She shrugs. George, after double checking how close the hotel is, pops his phone back in his pocket and bends at the knees.

“Go on, hop on y/n.” He sighs sarcastically. Y/n laughs.

“George, I’m not climbing on your back, I’ll crush you.” She scoffs.

“Rubbish!” Arthur shouts.

“No you won’t, I’m a big boy y/n. I can assure you I’ve carried much heavier.” George retorts.

“Right, fine. But if you fall and lose another eyebrow, it’s on you boys!” Y/n snorts before jumping onto George’s back. She instinctively wraps her arms over his shoulders, noting how broad they are. She squeaks as George jolts her up to gain a better grip, his hands clasped under her thighs and dangerously close to her butt cheeks - not that she minds.

Arthur also notices this, and can’t take his eyes off her, wondering to himself how soft her legs and cheeks would feel in his hands, clearly the drinks going to his head. The three continue their journey towards their hotel, George seeming unbothered under y/n’s weight and Arthur plodding alongside them, all appearing to have sobered up a little under the cool French sky. It doesn’t stop him from waffling on though. Thankfully the other two enjoy listening, with each step George takes causing the shoes in y/n’s grip to swish in rhythm.

Although she enjoys the view of George’s curls at the back of his head, paired with the occasional waft of his aftershave, the pressure of her stomach begins growing. “OK, when we get to the end of this road, you can put me down. I can manage the rest.” Y/n instructs sweetly. George huffs.

“We’re not far from the hotel now, I’ll be fine.” He replies, giving her legs a squeeze.

“No it’s all good George, it’s actually me who’s struggling in this position.” She awkwardly laughs in response, “It’s my tummy up against your back, I’ve been holding in a lot of cocktail burps.” The boys break out into giggles, but George gently kneads her soft thighs in an almost soothing manner, as her face starts burning.

The street corner comes sooner than expected and y/n slowly slides back down to her feet. “At least let me carry your shoes.” George offers chivalrously. Y/n rolls her eyes with a smirk and hands them over. Arthur shines his phone’s torch to the ground, gasping at all the shimmers along the pavement.

“No way are you walking without shoes on here, there’s actual glass everywhere.” He complains. Y/n laughs and gets ready to call him ‘dad’ but before she knows it, she’s being carried bridal style by the concerned nerd. He smiles down at her sweetly, their faces achingly close, her nose scratching past the stubble on his jaw as she looks up at him wide eyed. Again, for him it seems effortless as he carries on yapping gleefully, while George makes his usual playful jabs.

As the breeze picks up, Arthur naturally holds y/n even closer to his chest, as if to protect her from the cold. He looks down at her again to ensure she’s comfortable as he loosens his grip slightly, his breath fanning her face engulfs her in a mix of alcohol and his aftershave.

Luckily they turn a corner and their hotel is glowing right in front of them. Once inside, Arthur lowers y/n to her feet. “Thanks for the lifts guys,” she jokes, the three tipsy idiots giggling. “Is it OK with you both if we take the elevator though? My blisters can’t handle the stairs tonight.” The pair oblige as they make their way to the old style elevator. It’s no problem, all the influencers have their rooms on the same floor anyway.

As they step into the cozy space and hit the ‘3’ button, y/n eyes up the two boys standing either side of her through the reflective wall. “I can’t believe you both can carry me, it’s genuinely impressive…” her words trail off as her mind goes to a completely unexpected place. A dirty place. She can’t tell if it’s the alcohol, the ‘city of love’, or if there maybe is a shift in the air. Before the boys can answer however, there’s a sudden jolt and the lift stops while barely passing level 2.

“Shit.” George mumbles. Catching y/n as she stumbles towards him slightly, while Arthur naturally reaches out and grips her arm protectively.

“What was that?” Y/n asks, her voice wobbly from shock, from the lift and the dirty thoughts.

“Yeah, the lift’s broken down I think.” Arthur mutters to himself, immediately pressing the big red bell button to alert the staff. Y/n peers around for a CCTV camera to wave at, but the old lift doesn’t have one. Within seconds, dead air begins humming through the elevator’s speaker. A staff member starts speaking in French but George interjects.

“Hi, bonjour, sorry... We’re English.” He chuckles anxiously.

Straight after, Arthur awkwardly adds: “Um, nous sommes Anglaise?”

“Ah, yes, OK.” The member of staff replies, before politely instructing the unfortunate three that the lift has a habit of breaking down due to its age, but they're not in any danger. A mechanic was already called and is making his way there now, but there may be a 20-30 minute wait as he isn’t onsite due to it being almost 1:00 am.

The crackling abruptly stops and the three look ahead to the mirrored wall. George checks his watch. "OK, so let's say the lift stopped three minutes ago..." He mumbles, "This means the mechanic should be here no later than 1:25." Arthur and y/n sigh.

"There's no service in here!" Arthur huffs, waving his phone around frantically while his screen shows a chess game. He puts his phone in his pocket defeatedly, murmuring "My match..." under his breath.

Y/n also tries checking her signal. "Nope, nothing for me either." She adds and George shakes his head too.

"Looks like we gotta sit tight until we're rescued." He groans with a shrug.

Y/n slides down the wall and sits down, giving her feet a rest. Arthur slides down next to her, shooting her a sweet smile, then they both look up at George. He smirks down at the pair then sits too.

"Don't want to be left out now." He chuckles, setting y/n’s shoes on the floor beside him.

"So boys, what shall we do to pass the time?" She asks, instinctively looking over her right shoulder, past George at the doors.

"Truth or dare?" Arthur asks quietly.

"I don't think we can do many dares in such a tight space." Y/n replies, giving him an apologetic look. He tried.

"I can think of a few things..." George mutters under his breath, but doesn't repeat it when the pair ask.

"Oh! What about 'never have I ever'?" Arthur chirps. Leaning forward to seek agreement in y/n and George's eyes. Y/n nods slowly with a smile.

"We could, but we don't have any drinks." George sighs.

Arthur pauses for thought. "We could hold up our fingers and every time we've done something, we put a finger down. Last person to put down 10 fingers wins."

"So, 'put a finger down' then." George snorts.

"Oh yeah..."

"OK, never have I ever been trapped in an elevator before tonight." Arthur declares. George and Arthur both put a finger down. Y/n looks left then right at the boys.

"Arthur, you've shot yourself in the foot!" She giggles. Arthur throws his head back and frowns his eyebrows with a grin, realising his mistake. George chuckles quietly and shakes his head. This explains why they both were calmer than her though.

"Umm, put a finger down if you knew a person before they started content creating." Y/n commands. The boys both put a finger down. "OK, cool." She adds with a smile.

"Put a finger down if you've fancied another creator." George suggests with a raised eyebrow, all three put a finger down. No one notices George’s own-goal, due to the essence of gossip in the air.

"Interesting." Arthur whispers with a nod as he looks at y/n's hands.

"Very interesting." George adds, also spotting y/n's finger down. "You're lucky this isn't 'truth or dare or we’d be asking for names." He continues. Y/n giggles sheepishly. If only they knew.

The game continues for some time, George purposefully making declarations that he knows the other two have done, whereas the other two play fair and yet, George is still unlucky.

He has three fingers left up and y/n has two. With Arthur also only having two fingers left, it's his turn to make a suggestion. "Never have— Put a finger down, if you've ever, um..." He scratches his jaw with his free hand, "Uh, b-been to a sex party?"

"Arthur!" George and y/n shout simultaneously.

"Sorry, I panicked!" He defends, his voice breaking.

"Which one of us did you think went to a sex party mate?" George bellows with a toothy grin, his face flushing slightly red as he looks to y/n. Meanwhile she can't stop laughing at Arthur.

"I don't know! My mind just went blank!" He shrieks, now joining in with a giggle.

"And you thought of sex parties." George retorts in a fake scolding tone.

Once the laughter dies down, y/n has a think. "Put a finger down if you've been invited to a sex party." No one puts their finger down. Both boys look at her inquisitively. "What? I thought if Arthur came up with the question, maybe he'd been invited." She chuckles awkwardly, becoming shy for also suggesting something dirty. The air in the lift starts feeling warmer, with the boys finding themselves eying her up more as their minds start racing too.

"Well, now the tone has been lowered, I might as well ask: put a finger down if you've ever had a threesome." George states in a teasing tone. He leans over to excitedly see if either of them put a finger down, but no one does again. "Hmm." He wonders.

"OK then, to piggyback off of that, put a finger down if you've been invited to a threesome." Arthur adds, his voice a little lower and quieter. George chuckles shyly and puts a finger down.

"Really?" Y/n calls out.

"No way!" Arthur adds. "How did I not hear about this?"

"It was at a night out, before I made videos, and some much older women offered me and my mates a chance to join them in the bedroom." George explains. "We declined of course, except one friend. I don't think he enjoyed himself though."

Arthur chuckles. "That's fair enough mate."

"Yeah." Y/n adds, followed by silence. The air becomes thicker, but she can't place why. Just the sheer thought of a threesome with them pops into her head and sends her heart racing. It seems the boys are having a the same thoughts, as she can feel their eyes on her and their breaths gently fanning her shoulders.

Arthur shifts his hand on the elevator floor, inching it along until his pinky finger touches hers. Her eyes flick forwards to look at him through the reflective wall, only to see he's already watching her, a tense unreadable look in his eyes. His eye contact lingers for a moment, before he looks down, but he keeps his hand against hers.

George on the other hand awkwardly looks down at his lap, his red face obvious. He lets out a sigh and gently pats y/n's leg. "So," He starts, before the crackling noise reappears on the speaker.

Before the employee is even heard, the three rush to their feet. "Hello, the mechanic is here and will start working in a minute." A gentle French voice informs the sweaty three. Their shoulders slump, upon hearing they're not quite free yet, and the elevator is back to dead silence.

"So, how many fingers do we have left?" George asks sheepishly. The three raise their hands out front, all with two fingers left. The boys hold their hands against y/n's, either side of hers. She looks at how big their hands are in comparison, then looks up to their reflection again and notices how much bigger the boys are to her in general, something she never realised before. "It's your turn." George whispers, his breath tickles her neck as he leans close, sending a shiver down her spine.

She looks at their reflections again as she thinks, struggling to take her mind off the idea of a threesome now. By this point she's sober enough to not flat out suggest it, but still tipsy enough to keep testing the waters.

"OK then, put a finger down if you've ever wanted to have a threesome." She declares with a playful grin. She watches their reactions ahead of her. Arthur's eyes widen as he blows air out his lips, his cheeks puffing out. George on the other hand clears his throat and shakes his head with an embarrassed smile. Three fingers go down.

This time, Arthur leans in and speaks quietly. "Y/n you've done yourself dirty this time." His breath caresses her ear as he subtly emphasises the 'dirty'. As goosebumps line her skin, her cheeks heat up and she's sure her face is glowing red at this point.

Trying to save face, she mumbles. "One finger left each." As they continue to hold their hands out close together.

"OK, my turn..." George murmurs, before clearing his throat again. There's a short pause as Arthur and y/n exchange a quick glance before both look at George in the reflection. He returns y/n's gaze, then Arthur's. "Alright fuck it. Put a finger down if you want to have a threesome tonight." His eyes snap to their hands as he hesitantly pulls his away, silently declaring he's out the game.

Arthur takes an audible gasp through his nose as he then closes his hand, pulling his fist away too. Everything starts feeling too real for y/n, being the only one still holding a finger up. She can feel George and Arthur's eyes burning into her. She eventually pulls her hand away and begins picking at her nails nervously.

Her eyes fixate on her hands, she misses the boys look at each other and nod, before she breaks another intense silence. "So, looks like we all lost." She chuckles weakly.

"At the same time." George utters, his voice deep, turning his body to face towards y/n. His eyelids are heavy as he peers down at her lips.

"I wonder what else we can do at the same time." Arthur purrs, his voice extra gravelly as he gingerly takes a step closer to y/n and reaches for her hand once again, which she takes. His dark eyes gaze down at hers as he waits for any objections, but none arise. George then grazes his knuckles softly against her upper arm, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for just a second before pulling away.

Arthur follows suit, placing a kiss just behind her ear as he strokes the back of her hand with his thumb. She shudders and sighs, watching them through the reflection as they edge even closer to her, their faces mere inches away from hers. “A-are we really doing this?” She asks, barely audibly.

“I will if you guys will.” Arthur whispers, squeezing her hand gently as he looks into her eyes.

“I’m in too.” George adds, his voice rough. He brushes hair away from her neck to expose it more to him. The boys still their movements, both standing in front of her and looking down at her patiently.

Y/n peers up, looking from one to the other. “So we are doing this.” She mumbles, loud enough for them to hear. With this go-ahead, the boys snap.

George attaches himself to her neck, sucking and nipping slowly from the base to her jawline, causing her to gasp. Arthur sees his opportunity to capture her lips in his. His hand finds the back of her head and grips her hair as their mouths work in a hungry rhythm. He whines desperately against her lips as she whimpers into his, George’s own mouth already making her already feel so good.

George hooks his finger under her chin and turns her head to face him. “Come ‘ere.” He growls before connecting their lips together. He hums into her mouth upon contact, while Arthur tugs on the neckline of her top to reveal her collar bone and immediately begins kissing along it. Y/n pulls back and gasps, catching her breath. “Oh my god…” she mumbles.

“Having fun?” Arthur murmurs against her neck, she can feel his smirk against her skin. Speechless already, she nods her head.

George steps behind her, pulling her flush against him, where she can feel him pressing into her lower back. Arthur closes the gap between them, almost pressing the pair against the elevator wall and kisses her lips again as his hands cup her jaw. She allows his tongue into her mouth as their kisses get sloppy, while George is back to attacking her neck again, gently with his teeth.

“Fuck, y/n. We’re gonna make you feel so good.” George whispers lowly in her ear. “Right Arthur?”

Arthur pulls back, a line of mixed spit connecting him to her lips. “So fucking good.” He groans.

“Wow…” is all she can muster, already feeling tension in her lower abdomen.

George slides his hands from her waist up to her breasts and begins kneading them over her top, whilst grinding his hips into her ass. Meanwhile Arthur reconnects his lips to hers as he too grinds himself against her, eliciting another gasp into his lips.

A loud clanging noise causes the three to jump and stop their movements, followed by creaking by the elevator doors. They step away from each other, all catching their breaths. Y/n adjusts her top as George and Arthur adjust their shirts over their tented trousers. Within seconds, the doors are pried open.

The elevator had only just started leaving floor two before it broke down, leaving only a foot’s worth of a step down to the hallway. “Come through.” The mechanic instructs gruffly. George hops out first, then turns to offer y/n a hand. Arthur picks up her shoes for her as she takes George’s hand and leaps out, Arthur then leaving too. They thank the mechanic who just shrugs and heads for the stairwell.

“I can manage this flight of stairs.” She mumbles with a reassuring smile, a wave of shyness returning to her. The guys nod without uttering a word between them, following silently behind her as they walk up to their floor, being sure to sneak a preview has her hips sway. When they get to the hallway, they all pause.

“So…” George chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Whose room?”

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

Part two? - Gabby xo

#arthur tv #arthur tv x reader #arthur frederick x reader #Arthur Frederick #george clarke #george clarke x reader #georgeclarkeey #georgeclarkeey x reader #arthur tv smut #arthur frederick smut #george clarke smut #Georgeclarkeey smut

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shadowslocked · 18 hours ago

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I am convinced Bobby and Celine would have hated each other if they were on screen together

Like, sure, they’d play nice but ultimately would be thinking “this bitch” about each other

Like, Celine isn’t around for much of the film but her presence is shown to come with an emphasis on perfection and not letting your flaws be seen. Despite how much she claims to love Rumi, she can’t love all of her due to her own prejudices. Made worse by her emphasizing that Rumi will be ‘fixed’ when the Golden Honmoon is created, ensuring Celine doesn’t have to even try understanding the half-demon side of Rumi. We see her in what may be the beginnings of their careers, when the girls want to take Rumi to the bathhouse, and then she’s gone.

When the girls do bring up talking to her about what’s going on, Zoey and Mira almost immediately do a 180 to determining that they have to keep it hidden from Celine.

While Celine may have trained them, and possibly was their manager in the beginning, she’s already created an environment where the girls feel like they can’t talk to her about their problems and instead must hide from her to avoid judgement

While the girls are hiding their demon hunting from Bobby, this is never portrayed as due to fear of how he’ll respond to them but due to him being a civilain

Bobby, throughout the film, is shown to be highly supportive of his girls.

Where Celine would have also likely pushed the concert with Rumi, it’s very easy to imagine her being more disappointed than supportive when Rumi is unable to perform. If flaws are not to be seen, then Rumi failing so openly would be disgraceful.

Vs Bobby who doesn’t lie that the network and fans are disappointed, but is still actively defending Huntrix right to sing when they’re ready. He is also the one actively booking a vacation for them to rest, making sure it’s the best he can provide

When Bobby brings them news of the Saja boys rising numbers, he quickly tries to soothes with the reminder that it’s just numbers and social media. When the girls decide to perform a diss track, he immediately jumps to get them what they need to accomplish their task.

Throughout the film Bobby can best be described by the word “supportive,” clearly having the girls best interests at heart and wanting to see them do well. Even when he does get stressed out by events, he doesn’t hold that against them. His biggest shame being that he failed to keep Huntrix together further highlights how much he cares about the girls beyond job description.

And in return, while Huntrix don’t reveal themselves to him, they do show just as much care. Letting him take the incredibly expensive vacation to a hotel meant for them, while acknowledging all his hard work, and with Zoey and Mira immediately abandoning their places to save the fake him.

So yeah, if Bobby and Celine were ever in the same room together I think they’d be low key arguing over what’s best for Huntrix the entire time.

Celine putting emphasis on their career (given the importance of keeping the Honmoon strong and turning it golden), at the expense of the girls own well being outside of keeping them alive. She has, for better or worse, the energy of bad manager, and I can’t see Huntrix doing well under her care even if they continued to be successful

Bobby cares about the girls careers, but not above their mental well being and health. While his lack of knowledge of the situation is a factor, with the way the movie presents his character it’s hard to imagine him being anything less than supportive and continuing to worry about Huntrix over the general mission

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #bobby kpdh #celine kpdh #I’m sorry the film doesn’t not give me room to see Celine sympathetically #she’s such a tasty character #but if she’d had more involved I think Rumi would have been even worse

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chaotic-toasters · 3 days ago

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Thunderbolts x Sick!Teen!R hcs

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol, drinking, mentions of underage drinking (sort of), mentions of vomit, Black Widow movie mentions

Yelena Belova

-Knows you're sick before you do

- “Are you shivering? Why? I did not teach you that.”

-Believes that Walker must have infected you with something- she trained you to be tough, not to be bedridden by some common illness. If you were sick, it must have been Walker's fault

-May act slightly annoyed that her partner-in-crime is stuck in bed- but Yelena is the one who won't let you get up to go to the bathroom by yourself

-“No! I will be right outside the door. You could pass out in there. What happens then?”

-Will be ready to wait you on hand and foot should you need anything. She'll drop whatever she's doing, no matter how important.

-“Eat shit, Valentina. I have better things to do than run your errands.”

Bob Reynolds

-Turns into a nurse the second he hears you cough or sneeze

-Quietly there for you. Brings you your medicine every few hours, makes sure you drink plenty of fluids, and makes sure that no rambunctious and excitable visitors (Alexei) bother you when your head hurts

-Would like to stick around to make sure you’re okay, but understands the need for space and will only stay with you if you ask him

-“I’m gonna head out, I hope– really? Are you sure you want me here? I… yeah, I can stay. But if you want me to leave– okay, okay! I’ll stay, I’ll stay.

John Walker

-Doesn’t believe in getting sick. Even when he himself is feeling under the weather, he chalks it up to tiredness

-“Yelena, there’s no such thing as getting sick. Also, I definitely did not infect the kid. Seriously.”

-Will ignore how you feel unless you’re bedridden. If you can stay on your feet, you’re fine. If not, maybe something’s wrong. Maybe.

-If you are running a fever and are stuck in bed, he’ll act very disgruntled when bringing you medicine

-Does his best to avoid Ava and Yelena when he’s carrying things to your room because he doesn’t want to be seen being soft (and they will tease him. Relentlessly).

-“Oi. Thought you said being ill wasn’t real.” “ShIT! Fuck off, Ava!” “No, no. Don’t deny it. Is that medicine?” “ShIT! Where the fuck did you come from, Yelena?”

Alexei Shostokov

-Absolutely does not notice you’re sick until someone tells him directly. If you’re coughing, he doesn’t hear it. If you’re shivering, he doesn’t see it. If you’re emptying the contents of your stomach, he’ll think it’s for a very different reason than you being sick.

-“Ah, little one, you finally start drinking? Don’t worry, you get used to it. Vodka go down easier more you drink.”

-Will definitely feel bad when he finds out you’re sick. Doesn’t really know what you need for the illness, but he’ll sing you old Soviet songs at the top of his lungs to cheer you up.

-One time, he decided to switch things up and sang American Pie by Don McLean to you, remembering how much Yelenalced that song when she was young

-Was very proud of himself when Yelena happened to poke her head in while he was singing American Pie. She was unsuccessful in trying to hide her smile, and even sang along quietly towards the end– something that Alexei boasted about to the others for the next two weeks. Yelena was mortified.

Ava Starr

-Like Bob and Yelena, she catches on to your illness very quickly. She’s spent most of her life observing other people, and she’s very attuned to everyone around her.

-Is slightly less dry towards you when you’re sick– she feels a little protective of you, though she’d never admit it.

-Makes sure you rest enough and does not tolerate you doing any strenuous physical activity until you’re better. Any protests from you is met with a stern look and a firm order to sit down and relax.

-“Ava, come on, I can’t just lay down and do nothing.” “You’re not going out for a run when you’ve got a 39°C fever. Go back to bed, I’ll bring you some books to read if you’re bored.”

-Doesn’t hover, just periodically checks on you by phasing and sticking her head through the wall.

-Will never let the others see her entering your room. Phases into the wall upon entry, and phases out of the wall upon exit. Like John, she doesn’t want to ruin her image by being caught caring for you.

Bucky Barnes

-Instantly changes from Bucky to Dad. Brings you your medicine, water, and food at the same time every day like clockwork, and completely ignores the rest of the team’s teasing at how much he babies you.

-Is the exact opposite of Ava. Bucky doesn’t let you do anything without supervision. It doesn’t have to be him, but either Bob or Yelena has to follow you around like a shadow if you’re doing anything other than lying in bed. He doesn’t quite trust the others enough to watch you yet when you’re sick, even though you’re perfectly capable of going to the fridge to get a snack by yourself.

-Puts a time limit on your screen time. It doesn’t matter that you’re almost an adult. Until you’re 100% better, he refuses to risk you getting a headache or making your eyes hurt. You get an hour at a time with three hours in between. Nothing more, unless you want to risk his wrath– aka a 3 hour lecture of him whisper-yelling (to prevent giving you a headache) all the reasons why you can’t ‘overexert’ yourself when you’re not feeling well.

-Is a firm believer in “recovery after sickness”. You’re not better until a week has passed without you having a cold. No one gets to make you do things until then– not even Val.

-“Yeah, no. She’s unavailable, Val. Incapacitated, actually. Yeah. She’ll be free in a month or two. Why? Her fever’s gone, but she still has to get rid of her cold. N- what do you mean, ‘that’s stupid’? No it's not!”

Thanks for reading :) Very experimental hcs - I’ve never written hcs before and this is my first Thunderbolts work, so I’m still trying to get a feel for how to write everyone. Thoughts?

#thunderbolts #thunderbolts fanfic #thunderbolts headcanons #thunderbolts hcs #ava starr x reader #bob reynolds x reader #yelena belova x reader #alexei shostakov x reader #john walker x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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midnight-drip · 3 days ago

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@lautski-week day 6 — home!

steph is coming to pete's house for the first time, and he's got everything planned out so this night goes perfectly. there's just one little thing he fails to keep in mind— this is the spankoffski house. nothing can ever be perfect.

first, when they arrive, he finds ted sitting on the couch in what is possibly the most hideous t-shirt pete has ever seen. normally, he wouldn't mind. ted lived in his own apartment downtown, but he still had a key to the house, and he came and went as he pleased. pete was happy to see him, but he wished ted hadn't decided to come home tonight of all nights. he pulled ted aside, awkwardly explaining that steph was over and saying he was sorry for asking this but, see, their parents weren't home, so he really was thinking tonight would be just for him and steph, so would he please just go somewhere else for the evening?

"yeah, okay," ted acquiesced after a moment of thinking. "I'll go home, let you two have the place to yourselves, eh?" he nudged pete playfully, wiggling his eyebrows. "you know what I mean?"

"it's not like that, ted," pete muttered, shoving his brother gently. "but thanks."

"yeah, yeah, yeah. have fun." ted ruffled his hair, grabbing his things and heading out.

with him gone, pete felt a small weight off his shoulders. now he could get down to work making the perfect night. he turned to steph, smiling.

"I'll get started on dinner. you wanna pick a movie to watch while it's cooking? t.v.'s just over there," he said, pointing steph in the right direction as he walked around the kitchen island and started getting everything ready.

after getting the food into the oven, he walked around to the couch, sitting beside steph. she'd put on some shitty horror film— steph had this odd love for bad movies that pete never quite understood. he had to admit, though, the stupid writing and awkward cgi was kind of growing on him. steph leaned her head on his shoulder, and pete sat there, trying really hard not to talk. he knew that with ruth and richie, it was fine to yap all throughout a film, pointing out little details and fun facts and correcting things— but he didn't yet know how steph would feel about that little habit of his, so he'd been trying to keep the interrupting to a minimum when watching things with her.

suddenly, there was a loud *pop* from the kitchen, making both steph and pete jolt. pete jumped up from the couch, stumbling his way into the kitchen and trying to figure out what had gone wrong. carefully, he opened the oven, taking out the chicken that had been cooking in there.

shit.

it was burnt, and it looked to be that way all the way through. suddenly he remembered something his mother had said earlier that week. the oven needs fixing. he wanted to punch himself. how could he have forgotten? he put the burnt chicken into the compost, sighing. so much for a nice, home-cooked meal.

"uh, so... change of plans, I suppose. I— but— that's okay! we have some leftovers in the fridge, so I guess I'll just—"

there was a gentle crackling noise. the movie stopped, and the t.v. screen went black. then, so did the rest of the room.

everything was going wrong. pete felt like his head was spinning, and he buried his face in his hands and groaned.

then he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

"woah, hey. are you okay?" steph smiled at him, her eyes warm. pete felt his face flush. god, even in the dark, it was like she herself was glowing.

"I'm sorry, steph. I— I wanted this to be perfect, but now... I mean, nothing is going the way I planned. it's turning out to be a total trainwreck. I'm sorry."

"hey. it's not a trainwreck. so what if it's not going to plan? maybe we need to rework the plan."

"rework the plan," he repeated, quietly. "right. okay. yeah."

pete took a deep breath, looking around the kitchen.

"let's rework, then. there's candles just under the sink, there, do you mind lighting a few of those? and I'll... I'll boil a pot of water, there's instant noodles in the pantry."

steph nodded, taking the candles out and starting to place them around the house. she kept looking back at pete as he wandered around the kitchen, thinking aloud.

when the candles were put up around the living room, she returned to the kitchen. pete put two bowls of instant ramen onto the little kitchen island, and the two ate together. afterwards, steph offered to clean the dishes, but pete insisted on doing it himself.

"huh," he remarked when he was finished. "there's still lots of hot water left. I think I'm going to make hot chocolate, uh, would you like some? or coffee? tea?"

"tea would be nice, thanks."

"of course."

as pete set to getting the drinks ready, steph began to talk to him. pete was still a little worked up over everything that had happened, and at first, he thought she was just talking in an attempt to calm him down. still, though, he listened to her. he would always listen to her.

if relaxing him had been her goal, she'd succeeded— by the time he was sliding her mug across the kitchen island, he felt a lot more comfortable with how the evening was going. they went to the couch and curled up together, cradling the mugs in their hands.

"steph?"

"mm?"

"tell me the truth, here. are you really not upset at me about how this night went?"

steph blinked at him.

"why would I be upset with you? nothing that happened was your fault. besides—" she leaned a little closer to him. "I had a good time tonight."

"really?" pete turned to look at her, surprised. everything had gone wrong tonight. yet still, steph had enjoyed it somehow.

"yeah, really. 'cause..." steph trailed off.

"...'cause?" pete prompted curiously.

"nevermind. it's embarrassing."

"come on, that's no fair. I say embarrassing stuff all the time, this is your turn."

steph looked at him, and sighed.

"fine. I had a good time tonight... because I was with you. because no matter what happens, no matter what goes wrong or how bad things get, you're right here for me." she smiled. "you're my home, pete."

#I think the writing for this one turned out really cute (even if I kind of rushed it)#but I really love the art too!#it's been a while since I've done a genuine background for any of my drawings! I forgot how much I love putting little details into them #it's cropped but the fridge has one of pete's school projects put up (A+)#also a list on a sticky note and a polaroid of him and ted when they were younger #but those ones are in the frame #all the mugs in the cupboard pete is opening are based on mugs in my own house #special shout-out to my grogu mug (top left)#one of my favourite mugs #I really like how steph turned out here as well. she's so pretty <3 #lautski week #my art <3 #lautski #peter spankoffski #stephanie lauter

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forbebeandjam · 1 day ago

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Hello, lovely! Hope you're doing well.

I just had the strongest urge to request something so freaking cheesy and adorable for Bada x childhood love, fem idol reader.. like one day they're practicing alone in the studio, and they reminisce about the past.. and Bada remembers how they used to dance to "Can I have this Dance", from high-school musical, and decides to recreate it.. and they dance together,singing along to the song like they used to like dorks in love. Having their disney moment. 🫠🫣

Can I Have This Dance? | Bada Lee x Fem idol Reader | fluff

Summary: you visit your hometown after years and finally meet up with Bada. But this time you don’t plan on letting go.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Hii! Took me long enough to get to this one, huh? I hope you enjoy and sorry if it’s a bit bad🥹 I just came back from a break. Anyway!! Love ya 🫶

𓆩♡𓆪

It was getting late, and all you wanted to do was leave practice and take a taxi back home. It was finally time for a long-awaited break, and you wanted to work on a small solo project you had been planning for a while.

Luckily, you had Bada to help you. Of course, she scolded you for working while being on break, but she agreed to help you regardless.

"Okay, girls. Have a good break, and I'll see you here next month," you took a deep breath and stretched. Your bags were packed, and you were ready to go back home to your childhood home, where your family would be waiting.

You pushed your bags out of the dorm and into the van. Your manager offered to take you since you were the only one who wasn't from Seoul, and you accepted the ride.

Fun chatter filled the empty space and dark night while he drove, and once you reached the destination, you thanked him, and he went his own way.

"Mom!! Lily!" you shouted as you saw your mom and sister waiting for you at the door.

"Where is Dad?" you asked, and felt someone poke your shoulder. When you turned, you saw a large flower bouquet and your father behind it.

"Oh, we missed you so much," he said as he gave you the warmest hug. Your tears started to flow, but you quickly wiped them before anyone could see.

"I'm sorry I work so much. I will try to come and call more often," you said.

"Never mind that. Come in and rest," he said. After eating and washing up, you headed to bed with your little sister.

The following morning, you almost jumped out of bed. You made breakfast and cleaned the house a bit.

You ran back into the room and looked for your sweats and crop top, quickly changing into them and rushing back downstairs. You found your family eating.

"Where are you going?" your mom asked.

"I'm just gonna go to the dance studio," you said.

"Wait! Aren't you going to eat? Why don't you take Lily with you?" you but your lip.

"Mom, I can come back to get her. I am meeting with a friend for a project."

"Wait a minute. You're supposed to be on break. What..."

"Mom, please. I'm meeting with Bada," you said in a begging tone. She immediately understood and nodded her head.

"Oooh Bada!!" Lily teased.

"Gosh, bye!"

You smiled and sprinted out of the house.

You took the quickest route to the studio, and when you finally arrived, you texted Bada that you had arrived. When you walked in, you looked around the place.

It looked just like when you left, but there was now a picture of your group and one of Bada's crew on the wall behind the counter.

"Little Y/N, it's so good to have you back. Look at how much you have grown. You make me so proud of the woman you've become," said Mr. Lee. You bowed and thanked him.

"Someone is waiting for you in there," he said. A faint blush immediately appeared on your face, and you sprinted to the last dance room.

And there she was. Bada was waiting for you with a wide smile and open arms. You ran to her, not wanting to waste a single second from her warmth.

"Gosh, it feels like forever since we were here." You didn't say anything because you knew she visited this studio every month, but you. You hadn't been there since you left to be a trainee at the age of 15.

Almost six years have passed since you left to become a star, and you missed it. You missed her.

"Come on. Let's work on your project," she said when she felt you getting emotional. She knew you like the palm of her hand, and she knew how much you hated crying in front of her.

And so you two danced. She had also requested a month's vacation to be here with you in your hometown.

It was six years ago when you two would walk to school together, spend all your time together, and kiss behind the big weeping willow tree behind her house.

You tried pushing past all these memories, knowing that such a relationship would be nearly impossible, and tried to push her away.

But soon enough, you realized that without her and this small studio, you wouldn't be where you were.

Two weeks passed, and it was the last rehearsal before filming. It was late at night, and you were tired, so you sat down to rest as soon as the music ended.

"Are you okay?" Bada asked with a worried expression as she handed you a bottle of water and sat next to you. You nodded and drank water.

She then noticed your arm. She took hold of it and then looked at your hand. She held it tightly before bringing it to her forehead.

"You lost a lot of weight," she said. You replied with a soft hum.

"Remember when we used to sneak in pork buns and buldak here. My dad would get so upset, and then he'd bring us watermelon," She added. You giggled at the memories.

"I remember one time we broke the speaker and he made us work in his garden to pay for a better set of speakers," you said.

"Oh, yeah! Those were great speakers he bought, tho. Then we would play "Can I Have This Dance" and dance to it on repeat till we got it right.

"Gosh, I still remember that dance till this day," you said. She smiled and let go of your hand, and she reached for her phone. Within a few minutes, the song was playing, and she was pulling you to stand up.

"Oh, Bada. No, this is... ah okay," you said once you realized she wouldn't back out.

You began singing. Your sweet voice and the steps coming from your muscle memory made it all so easy to recreate the dance. Bada was beaming at the sound of your voice. Your eyes locked on each other blurred everything around you.

Your hands intertwined, the way your bodies moved to the music, her sweet smile. Giggles filled the room when one of you would accidentally mess up, but you'd get back on track. It felt like magic.

It was just like before, and you wished for nothing more. When the song came to an end, you could feel Bada's stare in your soul. She looked at your lips and back at your eyes.

She got closer and you closed your eyes, waiting for her soft, plump lips on yours, and when you did, you swore you could fly.

You shared a smiley kiss for a while, and when you broke the kiss, you buried yourself in her chest as she hugged you tightly.

"Promise to never leave me again," she said, and she held you closer, burying her face on your neck, and smelling the fresh scent of your hair.

"Never again, Bada. I love you," you replied.

Thank you for reading 🩵

#forbebeandjam #honeybee156 #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #lgbt #bebe #bada lee #jam republic #street woman fighter x reader #bada lee x reader #bada lee fluff #bada lee x y/n #bada bebe #bada lee imagine #bada lee scenarios #bada x reader #honey answers

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enha-roza · 1 day ago

Text

ROZA FAINTS

Enhypen x 8thmember!oc

synopsis : Roza faints after a performance.

wc : 1k

The members were finishing up rehearsals for their upcoming award show performance and Jay noticed Roza was looking paler than usual. “Hey are you okay? You don't look good.” He voiced, concerned. Roza who had been pushing through sickness, despite knowing better than to do so. She felt like her performance lately had been lacking and she didn't want her sickness making her worse, so she had been pushing herself above and beyond to make up for it.

“Yeah, I'm fine…” she whispered, avoiding eye contact with Jay. He knew better but decided not to ask further. And rehearsal went on as usual. Roza stumbled a little bit here and there but the members didn't take too much notice and they soon finished up, ready to head backstage to get ready for the award show performance later today.

Roza sat in the makeup chair getting the final touches on her face and hair before getting mic'd up. “You look bad.” Sooyoung whispered as Roza put her mic on. “I'm fine… I swear.” “You know I don't believe you.” Sooyoung sighed as Roza walked further ahead to avoid the conversation. “She is pushing herself too far,” Sunghoon said and Sooyoung nodded. “I should say something…” Heeseung hesitated and watched her weakly walk backstage. “It's too late, Oppa. we go on stage in a minute.” Sooyoung said, unsure herself. Heeseung decided to wait until the end of the performance.

The lights darkened and the members walked out on stage ready to perform. The music started and within 30 seconds Roza could feel her head pulsing from the bright lights, her body felt weak and she slightly stumbled over her feet bumping into Jake, who grabbed and helped stabilize her. Throughout the rest of the dance the members' eyes kept drifting to Roza, all cautious of her state. They continued through a couple more songs before the lights started to dim as fans cheered.

As soon as the lights were out Roza fell to her feet, hand clutched over her chest. The air fighting to get to her lunges. “Roza, are you okay?” Jungwon quickly came to her side. The members froze watching as Roza struggled to breath. Before she could get any words out Roza’s eyes rolled back and she let her body fall to the floor. Heeseung quickly catched her before she hit her head. The members quickly moved and Heeseung took her backstage, realizing they were still in view of the audience.

“Is she okay?” Niki asked concerned and the staff helped lay Roza down in the dressing room. “She is sick and lacking energy, she needs some rest and food.” The manger spoke before placing a blanket over her and grabbing a water bottle for when she wakes up. The dressing room was chaotic as all the staff were moving around trying to clear the room and make space from Roza to rest.

Sooyoung came down and sat next to Roza, stroking her hair and keeping a close eye on her. The room went quiet as they sat and waited to see if Roza would wake up. “I should have said something..” Heeseung mumbled. “Heeseung it's fine, you didn't know any better.” Sooyoung tried to help. “But I did…” Heeseung, frustrated, got up and left to cool down. “I'll go talk to him, Jay come over here.” Sooyoung said getting up to talk to heeseung, Jay taking over Sooyoung's seat.

They boys continued talking and waiting around, when Roza stirred and lifted her head confused on what had happened. “What happened?” “you fainted, you idiot.” Niki joked as Jay glared at him. “What it's true. Noona for someone so smart, it's interesting how silly you can be sometimes.” Roza laughed, not expecting less from the maknae. “Thanks for keeping it real niki.” Everyone laughed, happy Roza wasn’t too hurt. “We should probably get you home.” the manger said helping gather all of Roza’s things as she said goodbye to the members that were there. “Wait, where's Heeseung?” She looked around, not finding him anywhere. “He's a bit upset at himself for not saying anything about your condition.” Jake confessed. “But that's not his fault?” “We tried to tell him.”

“The rest of you need to change and head back out there. There are a couple more awards to be handed out.”. “Sooyoung can go back to the dorms with Roza, i'll find her and Heeseung. The rest of you change and head back out.” The manager said. The boys got changed and headed back out despite wanting to stay with Roza.

Through the remainder of the wayward show the members were fidgety and couldn't stop thinking about Roza and due to the little time Heeseung didn't get to see Roza before she left. “She was fine, Hyung.” Sunoo said reassuringly to Heeseung, whose leg was bouncing up and down. The award show soon came to an end and the boys quickly made their way backstage. “Is she okay?” Jay talked into the phone with Sooyoung. “She is fine, she looks a lot better. Come back quickly, you’ll see her then.” Jay hung up and the boys got changed and were ready in the vans to head back to the dorm.

They arrived at the dorm and all immediately went to Roza’s room. “Woah, hi…” Roza said as all seven burst through her door and just stood there. “What were you thinking?” Heeseung blurted. “You knew you were sick and still pushed yourself.” His voice shook with concern. “I know I'm sorry, I knew better.” Roza apologized knowing she shouldn't have overworked herself.

“It's okay now, you need to rest up. No more schedules if you're sick.” “but-” “no, you're off till you're better.” Jungwon argued. “Yes, now lie down, we'll bring you some food.” Jake said getting his phone out to order Roza's favorite take out. “Aren't I lucky.” Roza laughed. “Well considering everything that led up to this, i would say maybe not…” Sunoo jokes. “Yeah, maybe not.”

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almadelsur · 9 months ago

Text

💋 The Secrets One Keeps

summary: You're in love with jj but he's with kie, so in moments of pure desperation you often find yourself turning to the person he hates the most...rafe

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, one or two uses of y/n, plz let me know if I missed anything

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering i first wrote this like 3 years ago, and yes for those of you who have been asking, I fully intend to finallly continue this fic....more info on that later ;)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

JJ’s eyes change the moment Kiara steps into any room. Immediately his presence is ripped away from your immediate atmosphere, popping the little bubble you'd spent all afternoon crafting as he sprung up to greet the olive-skinned enigma that captured his affections.

“Kie!” The joy in his tone was incomparable to anything he’d directed at anybody else. Nothing could draw out such happiness from the blonde. You hated that about her.

In an attempt at self-defense, your brain shut itself off. Shielding you from processing the scene in front of you, your emotions ran cold like cement pouring down and across your neurons. It was the only way you could survive such a beating to your heart.

You figured that by distancing yourself mentally, you wouldn’t have to raise suspicion and distance yourself physically. In reality, you knew the real reasoning was your inability to stay away from JJ but the facade helped you cope.

“Hey J” she embraced him and his body relaxed around her as if she was the only source of his happiness. The only way he’d find alleviation from what he perceived as a shitty life being through her. “Sorry I’m late my parents had me running like crazy at the wreck today.”

Scattered greetings filled the air from the rest of the pogues, yet you could only focus on the way his eyes fixated on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here come sit baby” he offered her the seat he had just previously been place holding. What you thought had been quality time with your best friend, presented itself to you now as momentary attention to pass the time until his actual desire arrived.

Settling herself down and offering you a wide smile, her shoulder bumped against yours gently as a sign of acknowledgment.

“Hey dude” she directed at you, but you didn’t reply. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend. Not today anyway. Instead, you offered her a small smile, it was minimal but it was the best you could do under the circumstances.

“Yo" A crumpled tissue paper flew at your head, jj attempting to refocus your attention on him, "didn’t you say you were gonna get some water or something?” He spoke up, the scheme evident in his tone.

“um yeah I guess” You lifted yourself up and took a few steps before jj used the opportunity to slump himself down where you had been sat and sprawled his arms across his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“snooze ya loose sucker” he joked as he turned to Kiara to start up some mindless conversation. Leaving you behind in the dust.

Your teeth gritted as you focused on making your way to the kitchen hoping the distance from the scene unfolding would lift the iron grip on your heart.

You made the fatal mistake of glancing back and you were met with the image of jj nuzzling up to kiara in a picturesque display of love. The lump building at the base of your throat indicated that it was your time to get the hell out of there before you broke down in front of everyone.

“Shit guys, y’know what I just realized I gotta go” You spoke quickly, your tone matching your pace as you rushed to the exit of the chateau.

“You’re still coming to the party later though right?” John B asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen in front of him.

“Mhm yeah sure” you opened the door ready to depart.

“Shit I forgot about that! Me and jj are gonna be late, we got dinner at the wreck tonight.” kiara added as you stepped out, unable to control the escape of a rogue tear.

“Date night babyyyy” You heard JJ cheer before you slammed the door behind you.

“Is Y/N okay? She seemed a bit off.” Kie nudged JJ as she questioned.

JJ furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. Glancing out the window, he saw you jog away from the house, and a brief flash of worry flashed through his mind. As quick as it came, it dissipated. He shook his head figuring that if there had been something wrong, he’d have been the first to know.

“Nah she’s okay don't worry.” he offered to kie.

Boy was he mistaken.

——————————————————————

“Fuuuck me” you moaned out, sinking into him one last time. You were hot, sweaty, and heaving as you pulled him out of you.

“I thought I just did” Rafe taunted leaning back to lie down, arms crossed behind his head causing his taut abdomen to flex.

You scrambled off the bed, picking up your garments and shoving them back on your body forcefully.

“What, no pillow talk?” He tried again.

“Rafe..” you trailed off. Whenever you’d finish fucking, you’d struggle to even look at him. The self-hatred flooded your body as soon as the orgasm poured out.

“Hey you called me” he eyed you intently but you knew he didn’t actually care. To rafe cameron everything was just a game. At this point it was pretty much common knowledge. “In fact” he moved closer to you so that he could speak directly into your ear “It’s always you that calls me.”

“Don’t be a dick” you stood up and eyed your heels contemplating whether you could face the walk back in them. “You know it makes me feel like shit.” It might have sounded brutal but that’s how things were with rafe.

“Yeah, it’s like you punctuate your orgasms with self-hate.”

“I'm a pogue, rafe.” You argued back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So? Kooks and pogues can fuck you know.” You couldn’t comprehend why you were even having this conversation. Why now, why tonight.

“Yeah maybe, not you though.” You didn’t want to tell him the reason explicitly.

“I fuck pogues.”

“You fuck anyone.” The words came out almost instantly and without thinking, yet rafe took no offense.

“Exactly so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is, rafe.” You paused trying to find the words without actually having to say the words. “The issue is that if my friends found out they’d hate me, probably more than I already hate myself.”

He just chuckled, the look in his eyes changing as he figured you out.

“What's funny?” You challenged.

“You don’t have to bullshit me princess.” He looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “You just don’t want jj knowing about your little escapades huh?” Bingo.

“He’s with Kiara.” You shrugged him off.

“Uh huh, you like him but you can’t have him.” Every word he spoke striking a nerve deep within you. “So you’re fucking me to fuck him over.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grabbed your heels and shoved them on, wincing as you buckled them up.

“Don’t I?” He threw his joggers on lazily as he stood, the level dynamics changing significantly. The older boy towered over you. “Where are they tonight?”

“Back at John B’s, we had a little get-together.” You crossed your arms. More often than not you usually called rafe after a few drinks left you feeling lonely. “Sorry, your invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” You attempted to jab at him with sarcasm yet he clearly held the upper hand with his line of questioning.

“So all of them are there now?” He stepped towards you.

“Mhm,” You lied.

“Even jj?” Moving closer until your neck was craned upwards to meet his eyes.

Taking your silence as an answer, he reached up and ran his palms across your upper arms, prompting you to uncross them.

“He was uh- him and kie should be getting there soon” You mumbled.

“So would i be wrong in guessing, that might have prompted your call then?” You let yourself be guided by his movements leaning your neck further back as his hand trailed up to your jawbone.

“rafe…” you called out insignificantly.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck, right over where he could feel your pulse, and pressed down.

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your mouth. Because as much as your heart belonged to jj, rafe was just so fucking good at raising your temperature.

“Round two?” He mumbled against your neck.

“Yeah..” you attempted yet it came out as a whisper. He grabbed you swiftly and lifted you, moving you across the room and throwing you down onto his bed, crawling on top of you in a predatory manner as he did so. As your back hit the bed, the ringing of your phone brought you back from the haze he had you under.

“Wait rafe stop stop” you pushed him off and grabbed the screeching mobile, pressing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Dude, where are you?” The sound of jj’s voice came through over the pumping sound of music and party chatter. “Me and Kie just got back and John B says no one’s seen you for like over an hour.”

“Oh I’m uh, I had to go do something for my mom” The lie pouring out of your mouth caused rafe to chuckle which was of course met by a slap from you signaling for him to be quiet.

“Oh well, when are you getting back? I have to tell you about this date. You’re gonna be so proud of me I actually think I’m ready to tell Kie I love her” you screwed your eyes shut as he spoke.

“Yeah I- you know what I can’t make it back my mom needs me to stay and help out but uh I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” You hung up before he could even reply, throwing your phone down uncaring of its state.

“What’s wrong? They getting hitched?” Rafe spoke up from behind you.

You turned to Rafe, the fire in your veins pushing your arms to grab him, roughly pulling him back onto you.

“Just shut up and fuck me rafe.”

And fuck you he did.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up to the sight of rafe’s bare back. Not much of a cuddler, you figured.

Quietly you pushed the covers off and began to dress yourself back up. As you got to your shoes you sighed and shook your head, as if there was any way in hell you were going to walk home in heels. You scooped up your shoes and your now-cracked phone shaking your head, slightly ashamed at your outburst.

Without even a second glance at the sleeping body you were leaving behind, you made your way over to the door. As you turned the knob and stepped out to leave, a husky voice spoke up.

“I’ll keep my ringer on for you babe.”

You rolled your eyes looking back at him, “Fuck you rafe.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” He didn’t even open his eyes as he answered, instead just rustling around in the bed and turning to the other side, once again facing his back to you.

You scoffed as you exited. Your internal rant clouded your vision, body on autopilot with an excellent self-navigation of the Cameron house from the countless times you’d made this exit.

“Y/N?” The gentle voice wiped your thoughts clean as the shock stilled you dead in your tracks, slowly turning to come face to face with none other than Sarah.

“Sarah” you drawled out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house?” Her head was cocked to the side, equally shocked to see you.

“No I just mean- I thought you were spending the night at John B’s.” You forced the small talk, avoiding the topic of why you were here, sneaking out at 8 in the morning.

“He had to work today, did you spend the night here?” She glanced up at the door of rafe’s bedroom.

“Umm-“ There had only been two other instances where you had been at a complete loss for words. The day jj told you he and Kiara were dating, the morning after your first sexual encounter with rafe, and now this.

“Are you sleeping with my brother?!” She whisper-shouted, eyes wide as the realization hit her. Busted.

“No?”

“Oh my god!” She grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to her room, slamming the door as soon as you were both inside. “How long has this been going on?!” Her tone was loud and her hands wild as she interrogated you.

“Just a little under a year.” You sat on her bed and looked at your lap as you spoke. Reminiscent of a child being scolded.

“A year?! Oh my god!” She repeated. “Who knows about this?!”

With that, you looked up at her desperately. “No one. No one knows so please don’t tell them.” You didn’t have to name names for her to know who you were referring to.

“Are you two like” she paused “together?” She scrunched her nose up, disgusted at the thought of her bully of an older brother dating anyone.

“No god no. It’s just sex” you were just as uncomfortable as Sarah was, having to tell her about boning her older brother.

“Disgusting.” She turned away from you with her arms crossed, looking out the window.

“Look I’m not proud of it okay? Just-“ You sighed “Just please don’t tell anyone” pleading again.

Sarah let out a long sigh and uncrossed her arms. She walked over to you and joined you on the bed, her eyes showing concern mixed with something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

“I thought you were into jj” she spoke softly, there it was. Pity.

“Yeah well, jj is with kie and instead of sitting around wallowing in self-pity, I decided to do something about it.” As the words left your mouth, you realized how weak the explanation was.

“So you just use rafe to bang the jj out of you.”

“It’s not like Rafe cares, if anything he’s also using me.” You tried to reason.

“I don’t doubt that. But I mean, that’s- It’s not healthy, you’ll never move on if you don’t actually process your emotio-“

“Look Sarah, I don’t need to do any of that shit okay? What I have here works, when I fu- when I’m with rafe, I don’t think about jj.” Tears began to swell in your eyes “Sleeping with rafe helps me forget about everything, even if it’s only for a little while he uh- he makes me feel good.” To an extent, there was truth behind your words, while you and rafe fucked the rest of the world went away. It was only after, that the crippling self-hatred hit you along with the return of your immense feelings for jj.

Sarah shuffled over and threw her arm around you. “That’s not good for you, it’s just momentary. It’s easy and it's a cycle, you’re never going to get better going down this path. Especially not with rafe.”

“Rafe he’s- he’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is. But i bet it gives you satisfaction fucking him knowing jj hates him. Feels like revenge right?” She’d always been so perceptive your Sarah, you hated how she could see right through you.

Tears ran down your cheek silently. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” You sniffled.

She gave you one of those classic salt-of-the-earth Sarah Cameron smiles, the kinda smile that would light up any room she walked into. “Takin' it to the grave babe.”

A loud beeping caused both your heads to whip towards the window. “Shit, I completely forgot I was supposed to go on the HMS with pope and jj, we were gonna chill there until John B and Kie finished work.” She rose to her feet and extended an arm towards you. “Wanna come? Or we could drop you home if you’re not up for it.”

With a sigh you took her hand and pulled yourself up, walking beside her as you mentally prepped yourself to face the blonde you desperately pined for.

“Well rise and shine campers.” jj yelled out of the window of the drivers seat.

“Y/N! Where you been dude? you totally bailed last night.” Pope was next to speak as you and Sarah filed into the Twinkie. As JJ began to drive you avoided any form of eye contact in his general direction.

“I had to go help my mom out, blackout at mine again.” You didn’t even look at pope either, instead focusing your attention on the blur of trees and houses pacing by the window as JJ sped down the winding roads.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” pope, observant as always, pointed out.

“Uh yeah, I didn’t really get any time to change cause…”

“I called her last night when I got home, I was so drunk I don’t think I was ready to stop the party.” Sarah covered for you.

“Yeah I wrapped up helping my mom out and then this one calls me talkin bout a sleepover or something so I didn’t exactly have much time to change.”

Thankfully pope had lost interest as soon as he had asked the question, otherwise, your overcompensating ass would have been caught out straight away. You always had to add to the lie until you felt like you had sold it completely.

Keeping your eyes trained on the outside meant that jj’s frown directed at you through the windscreen mirror went completely undetected. He always knew whenever there was something up with you and right there and then he knew something definitely was.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t need to address you explicitly for you to know he was talking to you.

“Yeah just tired.” You shrugged him off in an attempt to distance yourself from him yet again.

He knew you were lying but he didn’t understand why, you never lied to each other. Apart from John B, the pair of you were closer to each other than with anybody else in the group. You’d been best friends since kindergarten, and since then you’d sworn 3 things to each other.

1- You’d always share your snacks.

2-You’d always be best friends even if you argued.

3- You would never ever lie or keep secrets from each other.

Of course, as the both of you grew older the rules became more and more lax. The snack sharing was limited only to when you felt nice enough and sometimes you’d go for days without making up if you had argued particularly badly. Having kept two friendship-breaking secrets from him, the childhood rules seemed pretty insignificant by now.

“Mhm,” he responded, flickering his eyes between you and the road. “Are we taking you home to change first?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll join you guys afterward though.” You chewed down on your nail anxiously as the tension from being in the same space as jj paired with the guilt from having fucked rafe prior, suffocated you.

JJ made a face as he focused on the road, something was wrong with you and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to put his everything into finding out what that was.

#back on my shit #jj Maybank #Rafe Cameron #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #love triangle #obx #outer banks #outer banks fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #jj maybank x you #rafe cameron x you #tsok #the secrets one keeps

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that-one-girl2020 · 8 days ago

Text

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader Pt. 6

A/N: Y’all are not ready for this. And yes, there will be another part after this. I’ve also been getting a few requests for little side skits so I’ll do those as soon as I wrap up the series itself so please be patient with me if I haven’t responded!

I tried really hard on this part so please tell me your thoughts in the comments!

Disclaimer: I don’t any of the songs or anything in this series.

TW: Death, heartbreak, grief, etc. toxic parental figures.

Word Count: 4,987

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 7

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, Abby = Kwan)

The time had come.

The Saja Boys’ final performance.

Just one more performance and then they could spend the rest of their existence with you.

For now, they were on the other side of the crumbling barrier, standing before Gwi Ma as they watched the space fill with people carrying the red glow of their light sticks. You were there too. A succubus among humans, beautiful having fully accepted your demon side. You were quickly coming into your new abilities, having teleported there with them and now floating above the stands, over the heads in the hypnotized crowd directly across from the stage. The best view in the house. Even from there, they could see the warm amber glow of your eyes.

They were worried about you, of course. But selfish beings could only ignore the call of their desired one for so long. You had chosen to join them, to love them. Flaws and all. And that was the sweetest addiction of all. So they would follow wherever you beckoned and they would protect you and love you with the entirety of the wretched tatters that remained of their souls.

Just for you, they had decided to perform this last song in their demon forms, forgoing their human guises.

“Well done. Ready to forget it all?” Gwi Ma’s voice rumbled as he looked hungrily out at the crowd of fans gathering in place for the performance.

Jinu looked over them as well, memories of the moment he left his mother and sister behind flashing in his mind and then Rumi, their moment of peace found within their friendship, and then you. The soft moments together of you two beneath the stars, you sharing modern music with him. Your face in joy. And then your face in despair. The face when you joined them. His expression steeled. He would do this for you. He didn’t care if Gwi Ma went through with the deal or not anymore.

“Good,” Gwi Ma purred. “Glad that girl is useful for something. And she’ll be singing with you, correct? Perfect. I’m ready to feast.”

The Boys grimaced, their fists tightening at the way the tyrant talked about you. But they all agreed on one thing.

They would do this for you. To protect you.

The Saja Boys had tried to change your mind when you said you would be helping with their final performance, it was a huge jump to go from just letting them feed Gwi Ma all these souls, to actively being a part in feeding them to him yourself.

But you had remained stubborn. “I refuse to be a passive supporter any longer. From now on, I’ll make my own path. Even if it leads me to Hell,” You had said with a sweet, content smile. So they agreed. And incorporated you into their performance with the ease of elite professionals.

Derpy the tiger mewled, nudging Jinu’s arm with the bracelet from Rumi offered in his mouth, shaking Jinu from his thoughts. But Jinu hesitated in taking it. Rumi had been his… friend. But he betrayed her. And she had turned her back on you, the girl he had grown to love. Jinu’s fist clenched.

It was an odd feeling, sitting as you floated in the air, the repeated monotonous chanting of ‘Saja. Saja. Saja,’ sounding below you over and over again. And it was strange seeing your reflection whenever you passed it. Your skin had taken on a dark lilac hue, the electric magenta glow of your patterns contrasting sharply. Your eyes glowed an amber, your pupils slit like a cat’s. Your fingers had lengthened, your nails grown into claws, and even your teeth had sharpened. But you kinda liked it. It was badass in a way.

Your mind lingered on them. Mira, Zoey, Celine, and… Rumi. Yes, they had left you. Turned their backs on you. But… you had loved them for so long. For years, they were your entire world, taking care of them and watching them grow. It would be hard to let them go from your heart.

However, that didn’t mean you would save Mira and Zoey from being part of this crowd.

It would be hard to let them go from your heart, but you wouldn’t forgive them.

You perk up when the Saja Boys logo flickers on screen, the image of Jinu’s demon eyes flashing for a brief second before the logo returns, the crowd coming alive with raucous cheers as a haunting tune begins, the boys rising to the stage. The boys floated, solemn looks on their faces as the song began. You were immediately enraptured just by the presence of them.

“I'll be your idol~”

The boys burst into motion, landing on the stage with their movements hypnotizing and magnetic.

“Keeping you in check (Uh), keeping you obsessed (Uh)~ Play me on repeat, endlessly in your head~ Anytime it hurts (Uh), play another verse (Uh)~ I can be your sanctuary~” Kwan opened strongly, drawing the crowd in with his movements and his charm easily. His eyes were on your figure floating above though, peering up at you from below the brim of his hat.

“Know I'm the only one right now (Now)~ I will love you more when it all burns down~ More than power, more than gold (Yeah)~ Yeah, you gave me your heart, now I'm hеre for your soul~” Chungae and Hyeon joined in, putting their all in this performance because you were watching. Their first and last performance with you. But, hopefully, not the last time they would sing with you.

You were so drawn in that you couldn’t even sway along to the song. You knew this song was meant to gather souls for Gwi Ma, layered with layer after layer of demon charm and hypnotism. But, it feels like they’re singing just for you.

“I'm the only one who'll lovе your sins~ Feel the way my voice gets underneath your skin~”

Maybe it's because they are.

“Listen 'cause I'm preachin' to the choir~ Can I get the mic a little higher?~ Gimme your desire~ I can be the star you rely on (You rely on)~ You're lost in my daze, yeah, you can't look away (Hey)~ Don't you know I'm here to save you~ Now we runnin' wild~ Yeah, I'm all you need, I'ma be your idol~”

The boys’ eyes glowed at you as they danced and sang. Their focus was on you the whole time. This last song was for you, not a message directly to you, but it was all for you. You were entranced, not by their demonic charm and hypnotism, but by them. The way they moved, the way their expressions drew you in.

The boys teleported in a burst of demon magic, reappearing in different places on the stage walkway. Gwi Ma appeared behind them, beginning to come through the barrier.

“Uh, shining with my fame, keep on shout my name, I'm your idol~ Thank you for the pain 'cause it got me going viral~ Uh, yeah, endless is my fever, makin' you a believer~ I was born for you, only your idol~” Jum rapped to the crowd of charmed fans, but his thoughts were completely on you. He couldn’t help but love performing, something he hadn’t expected when Jinu came to him with his plan. But it led him to all these new experiences and it led him to you. These words were meant for the fans but this performance was for you. Gwi Ma’s fires flared around them as more and more of him came through until he fully manifested behind them.

“Don't let it show, keep it all inside~ The pain and the shame, keep it outta sight~ Your obsession feeds our connection~ So right now give me all your attention~”

Then the lights of the stage and the light sticks went out, even the screen with the Saja Boys’ logo on it. The only light being the fires of Gwi Ma. The song abruptly cut off with a glitch effect. And then a new song sounded.

Your cue.

You teleported on stage as the first line of the song left your lips in a haunting melody, your voice enhanced by the demon charm you layered over it.

“Insane, inside~ The danger gets me high~ Can't help myself~ Got secrets I can't tell~” The boys teleported around you, moving and sweeping around you in a circle as you sang, striding forward towards the crowd with confidence you didn’t know you had. The crowd was cheering even more enthusiastically at the surprise voice of a female voice, one they had never heard before.

“I love the smell of gasoline~ I light the match to taste the heat~” The six of you spread out to different points of the stage, reaching enticingly to the crowd with sweet smiles.

“I've always liked to play with fire~”

As the beat dropped, it shifted back to ‘Your Idol’ but you sang with the boys this time as you all beckoned the crowd forward.

“Living in your mind now~ Too late ‘cause you’re mine now~ I will make you free~ When you’re all a part of me~”

The six of you teleported back onto the stage. You floated up first, the boys following you up as you harmonized with the boys. Looking down, it was a crowd of faceless figures bathed in red, drawn in by Gwi Ma’s flames and you guess�� yours and the boy’s demonic powers. Why was it so easy? These people were mindlessly marching to their deaths and you couldn’t find yourself feeling terribly guilty. Maybe later you will, when the hurt and the anger at them will fade, but right now? Your heart was cold to these people.

“(Listen 'cause I'm) Preaching to the choir~ (Now) Can I get the mic a little higher? (Play with fire)~ Gimme your desire~ Watch me set your world on fire (Play with fire)~ You're lost in my daze, yeah, you can't look away (Hey)~ No one is coming to save you~ Now we runnin' wild~ You're down on your knees, I'ma be your idol (Play with fire)~”

Everyone stopped. You, the boys, the people all stopped as the music cut out and the sound of a voice came from the back entrance to the stands. The crowd began to part.

“We are Hunters. Voices strong.” You frowned as Rumi came into view. The boys and you slowly descended, landing on the stage with Gwi Ma at your backs. The boys closed ranks around you, protective of you and weary of the demon Huntress. You narrowed your eyes at Rumi, scanning over her form. She looked just as bad as when you had last seen her but her face was blank, numb.

“Slaying demons with our song. Fix the world and make it right. When darkness finally meets the light.”

“You come here like this?” Gwi Ma mockingly questioned your sister. “You think you can fix the world? You can’t even fix yourself.”

“I can’t.”

“And now everyone finally sees you for what you really are.”

“They do.”

“And the Honmoon. Is. Gone.”

“It is.” Even from all the way up on the stage, you could see Rumi’s eyes change as she looked up at Gwi Ma sharply, her amber eye disappearing. “So that we can make a new one.”

~~~

Rumi had many regrets in her life.

She wasn’t perfect, she always knew that. But the golden image of perfection in her mind that she had always strived for was nothing but a pretty illusion. And when the illusion broke, she had hurt you. You, her precious twin sister. The sister that all she wanted to do was protect.

After her talk with Celine, Rumi had to face the hard truth that Celine had poisoned their minds. You and her used to be so close but when did that stop? She had to ask herself what happened to the times when you would laugh together over the stupidest little things? The times you would try to cook together only to end up chasing each other around the kitchen with food stained hands? The times when your giggles would fill the grassy clearing in the forest, your secret spot just between the two of you?

And Rumi knew it was her fault. She didn’t protect you like she should’ve, protected you from Celine’s harsh demands and her shoving the two of you into too tight molds of their parents.

And now there you were. The image of their father come to life, standing before Gwi Ma, your back to his flames as the Saja Boys stood on guard in front of you. You looked demonic, with dark lilac skin, clawed hands, black clothing, and the glowing amber eyes she could see from there. But you were beautiful. You were standing with a confidence she had never seen in you—or perhaps never noticed you had. And you had sung. She hasn’t heard you sing in years and she didn’t realize how much she missed it until she heard your voice again.

Rumi swore she would protect you. She had already broken that promise. But she would hold what remains of that promise in her weary hands with all her strength.

Although, first? She would need her girls.

“Nothing but the truth now~ Nothing but the proof of what I am~ The worst of what I came from, patterns I'm ashamed of~ Things that even I don't understand~ I tried to fix it, I tried to fight it~ My head was twisted, my heart divided~ My lies all collided~ I don't know why I didn't trust you to be on my side~”

You watched blankly as Rumi walked forward, her patterns beginning to glow in a rainbow iridescence as it spread up her legs and to her arms and face. You couldn’t help but think it was just like Rumi for her to take her flaws and make them pretty.

Looking to each side of the arena, you could see Mira and Zoey making their ways down to the stage, their chests glowing blue faintly. It seemed like Rumi’s voice had reached them. ‘It was a song for them, after all,’ you couldn’t help but think bitterly, your fist clenching.

“I broke into a million pieces, and I can't go back~ But now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass~ The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony~ My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like~”

Zoey joined the song as she reached the stage, “Why did I cover up the colors stuck inside my head?~”

Mira reached the stage as well. “I should've let the jagged edges meet the light instead~”

Together, they sang their song of hope, “Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony~ The song we couldn't write, this is what it sounds like~”

The three were glowing. This must be what it looks like for their souls to connect to their song. You had never seen it before.

But Gwi Ma had.

“Stop this song!” He roared behind you. He summoned a hoard of demons, flooding the stage in three directions as they charged at the girls to try and keep them from singing.

You knew the power of the girls and their voices. You knew as soon as Rumi started singing that this was a losing battle. Which meant that they would more than likely end up killing you here, with the boys…

“We're shattering the silence, we're rising defiant~ Shouting in the quiet, you're not alone~ We listened to the demons, we let them get between us~ But none of us are out here on our own~ So, we were cowards, so, we were liars~ So, we're not heroes, we're still survivors~ The dreamers, the fighters, no lying, I'm tired~ But dive in the fire and I'll be right here by your side~”

The girls embraced as they finally reunited after getting through the hoards trying to keep them apart. It sent a wave of light out over the crowd, beginning to form a new Honmoon as Mira and Zoey’s once black accents on their outfit turned to pure white. You couldn’t help but feel bitter. Rumi had come for Mira and Zoey. And the lyrics they were singing? It felt like a kick in the chest.

But they were right in a way. You weren’t alone. You had the boys. Rumi and you were both exactly where you belong at that moment.

“We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back~ But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass~ The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony~ My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like~”

The girls turned and marched steadily towards you and the boys. A shiver of fear went up your spine, waiting for them to summon their weapons so they could kill you and the boys. But they didn’t.

‘I’m sorry, (Y/n). Please. Hear me,’ Rumi mentally pleaded, her eyes on yours as she marched towards you, Zoey and Mira at her sides.

‘Please come back to us, (Y/n). I’m so sorry we… I didn’t stand with you,’ Zoey smiled at you, soft and apologetic. The pit of guilt in her stomach that had formed as soon as she had chosen to follow Mira instead of trying to listen to you pulsing in her chest alongside her soul.

‘It’ll be hard but… we love you. Please come back,’ Mira marched with determination. ‘They’ll share the patterns together.’ The iridescent patterns on their purified clothes glimmered in the light the same as Rumi’s.

‘Protect (Y/n),’ was the only thought in the Boys’ heads. They couldn’t shake the memory of you crying in their arms. You had said that they threatened to kill you if they saw you again. Their hearts shuddered in their chest at the thought of you dying with them. No. They refused to let it happen, they promised you that they wouldn’t leave you and they promised themselves that they would protect you.

Kwan, Jum, Chungae, and Hyeon charged forward, leaving Jinu with you to stay back and protect you as they faced the girls who summoned their weapons.

“Why did we cover up the colors stuck inside our head?~ Get up and let the jagged edges meet the light instead~ Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony~ Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like~”

Despite Rumi’s determination to reach you, Gwi Ma interrupted her, summoning the horde of demons back to him to boost his power as he grew in size, gaining enough energy to manifest more of his features. It startled the girls, distracting them as they held Hyeon, Chungae, Kwan, and Jum back.

“Your voices cannot defeat ME!”

Gwi Ma roared, sending a blast of power from his mouth at Rumi. Your eyes widened as Rumi stumbled under the force of Gwi Ma’s blast, straining under the weight on her sword. Mira and Zoey cried out for her but couldn’t reach her as the Boys held them back.

Your heart was pounding as Rumi screamed, trying to muster all the strength she could to hold Gwi Ma back. But she could only buckle under the force, falling to her knee. You unconsciously took a step forward. Would you really be able to watch your sister die?

‘Why?’ Rumi questioned herself. ‘Why am I never strong enough?!’

She stumbled when the force against her sword suddenly disappeared. She blinked, looking up.

‘No…’

Your human eyes looked back at her.

You hadn’t even registered moving. You couldn’t even remember if you had teleported or used your demon abilities to fly. But it didn’t matter. You were there now, holding back Gwi Ma’s power with your own body. Protecting Rumi.

“(Y/n), no…” Rumi’s voice cracked as she stood, her hands hovering uselessly by your shoulders. ‘What could she do? Why wasn’t there anything she could do?!’

‘Guess old habits die hard…’ You thought to yourself. You smiled sadly at your sister as her eyes welled with tears, despair in her eyes. But also guilt and regret.

“I’m still angry at you, y’know,” You told her softly.

“I know. I know…” Rumi cried, her voice wobbling. “I’m so sorry, (Y/n), I never should have turned my back on you. I never should have left you behind! I just… I wanted to protect you…”

“I know. I wanted to protect you too,” You told her. You could feel your skin flaking away into ash, the heat of Gwi Ma’s power eating through you slowly and yet all at once. It hurt. But you still had things you needed to say. “I’m still angry at you, but I’ll always love you, Rumi. After all, you’re the other half of my soul, remember?”

Yeah. She did remember. She closed her eyes, pressing your foreheads together as she remembered. Her tears wet your faces as she felt you fading away.

When the two of you were little, you would dance in by the ancient tree. Perfectly in sync with childish giggles in the air and happiness in your souls.

“You’ll always be the other half of my soul, (Y/n),” She had promised.

“And you’ll always be the other half of mine, Rumi!”

Nights spent under the stars, trying to find shapes and wishing on the shooting stars that streaked across the night. Celine would come scold the both of you for staying up so late but the two of you hadn’t cared.

“We are Hunters, voices strong~ Slaying demons with our song~ Save the world and make it right~ When darkness finally meets the light~” The two of you would sing together, your voices fading together.

She remembered when you had proudly showed her your first attempts at writing a song. The two of you had spent a week finishing it together to show Celine, who had politely clapped over it before dismissing you.

You at her side when the two of you first met Mira and Zoey.

You staying up for several nights in a row just to get their debut outfits just right, making sure every detail matched their personalities, were comfortable for them to wear, made them feel confident and strong.

You in the wings with Bobby or backstage during every single one of their performances.

You cooking their favorite foods for their birthdays, making sure to make the cake their favorite flavor from scratch.

You helping them to their beds when they spent hours into the night working on a song when inspiration struck.

Your voice when you were happy, when you were frustrated, when you were giddy, when you were tired, when you were comforting her.

“You’re gonna do great. You’ve got this.”

Your face when she had hit you and then left you behind without a second glance, numb to your cries.

Your smile.

Your laugh.

Your anger.

Your joy.

You.

And then you disappeared beneath her touch and all that was left was your soul. Rumi choked back sobs as the orb circled around her, humming in a way that reminded her of childish giggles and little voices singing in a clearing. “I love you too…” She wanted to fall to her knees right there and start sobbing, grieving her sister. But she couldn’t because she wouldn’t let your death… be in vain.

Rumi summoned her sword but it was different this time, heavier and yet lighter all at once. It was bigger than it had been and she could feel your soul humming through it. The two of you were always stronger together, that’s how it was meant to be…

The Saja Boys’ chest felt like a gaping maw as Gwi Ma roared, Rumi cutting through him with your sword. This was unlike any pain they had ever felt before in their centuries of existing. Were they even still alive? Was this death? Was this agony? Was this hell?

Jinu fell to his knees, his hand falling from its raised position, kneeling defeatedly halfway between Gwi Ma and where you had once stood. Biting his lip, not caring as it began to bleed, tears welling in his eyes.

Chungae stumbled, his hands to his chest as if he was trying to hold his heart together without all the pieces. His mouth was agape as if a name stood on the tip of his tongue but his lungs couldn’t give them the air to cry out.

Hyeon stood frozen, his arms limp at his sides. He stood like a gaping wound, succumbing to its fatalities. He was open and vulnerable to an attack but he didn’t care. He stood like a puppet waiting for its strings to be cut. Giving up on living.

Jum took a staggering step toward where you once stood and faltered. He didn’t want to believe his eyes, wanting to go to that spot right there to make sure you weren’t really gone. But he didn’t want to see if you really were either. A single tear trailed down his cheek, leading the way for the others to follow.

Kwan faltered, tripping over his feet and landing on the ground. He pulled his fist back and struck the stage with all his strength, leaving a small crater where he hit but the pain was nothing in comparison to the pain in his chest. He hadn’t been fast enough to help you. Stuck in a stalemate with one of the Hunters, neither letting the other get away from the fight. He cursed as he lowered his head.

Mira shuddered, turning her head away to swallow back her grief. She cursed fate for never letting her have the family she wanted. For letting her build this little family with her own two hands only to keep taking pieces away from her. You were her sister. There would be time for grief later.

Zoey’s arms went limp by her sides, the grip on her knives slackening until they faded away in her shock. She couldn’t process what had just happened. They were going to save you. They were going to apologize and talk it out so everything would eventually be okay again. She wanted to give up. Go back to the days where you would listen to her lyric ideas, always listening to every line no matter how odd or strange. Please.

The Saja Boys and the girls were almost swallowed whole by grief and despair. But the girls still had a job to do.

Mira and Zoey turned to the boys, their glares watery as they readied their weapons. They were intent on finishing their fights quickly so they could go support Rumi.

The boys looked at each other.

They would follow where you beckoned.

The girls were shocked when the boys made no move to attack them. Instead, they seemed to… surrender. Their heads bowed and they closed their eyes. Maybe it was their grief, their heart’s having broken, or their love for you, but… Before the girl’s eyes, the boys began fading away into ash.

One by one, they faded away with acceptance. They faded until all that was left was five aching souls, battered and broken, but whole. And they followed where you led. They danced around Mira and Zoey who watched in shock as the souls raced toward Rumi to circle around her sword trailing behind her.

Their souls led the way as the crowd joined in their song of hope and acceptance, their souls empowering the girls as they raced after Rumi, letting them run faster and faster than they ever had before as all the colors of the rainbow danced around them. The power of all the souls connecting with them were enough to lift the girls off their feet as they continued the song with determination.

“We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back~ But now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass~ The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony~ My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like~ Why did we cover up the colors stuck inside our head?~ Get up and let the jagged edges meet the light instead~ Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony~ Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like~”

The girls came together before Gwi Ma, soul energy dancing around them endlessly as Rumi held your sword out and the girls held the offered hilt together. They could feel your soul humming through them, and they closed their eyes. They felt all the souls connecting with their song, connecting with each other and with a flare of light, Gwi Ma was banished and the rainbow Honmoon was sealed.

“My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like~ Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like~ Truth after all this time, our voices all combined~ When darkness meets the light, this is what it sounds like~”

The girls looked out over the world that they had saved. That you had saved. The crowd was cheering, the sky was clear and bright as the rising sun finally shone over them. The rainbow Honmoon pulsed with power. They descended, gently landing on stage. Mira and Zoey released the hilt of your sword, letting Rumi hold the sword gently by its hilt and the blade. She could see her tearful eyes reflecting back at her as her grief filled her heart. For a moment as the sun glinted across the blade, she thought she saw your human eyes reflected back at her, surrounded by five other pairs of eyes.

She held the sword close to her chest, falling to her knees before the crowd of cheering fans who were none-the-wiser. The fight was over.

And you were still gone.

Outtakes:

You: *Looking at your new demon form* “Wow. How snazzy.”

The Saja Boys: *Drooling over you* “Yeah…”

…

You: “Why don’t you just make another hat for Derpy so he and Sussie can match?”

Jinu: *Shook like you just gave him the answers to the universe*

…

Rumi: “(Y/n)! I’m here to protect you!”

The Saja Boys: “Thank you for your services, but you are no longer needed.”

…

The Saja Boys: “We have only known (Y/n) for a day but if anything happened to her, we would kill everyone in this room and then ourselves.

*Five parts later*

The Saja Boys: “…”

…

Let me know if you have ideas for outtakes or side skits! And think about checking out the playlist I made for this little series!

Tag list: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374 @esposamultifandom

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mallory524 · 2 months ago

Text

the thunderbolts when you’ve been kidnapped

pictures from pinterest

tags- guilt, fear, angst, kidnapping, guilt, canon level action/violence, injuries, mentions of arguing, implied drugging/beating, mention of Void

notes- This all ended up being way longer than I intended. Oops. I need to keep writing or else I’ll explode. The fixation is strong

Yelena

When you’re with Yelena, she can be so tender and sweet that it’s easy for you to forget the life she’s lived and the things she’s capable of. The day you don’t come home from what should’ve been a 10 minute grocery run, that tender side is gone - and boy is it sorely missed around the tower. When Yelena's upset, she lashes out at anybody who gets too close to her, and it gets ugly pretty quickly. Her words are cruel and vindictive, as if each member of the team is personally responsible for what’s happened to you. She knows the people who took you are doing it to lure in the "new avengers", but it doesn't matter. It's working. She's going to find you, and she's going to march right in there, guns blazing.

You're in bad shape when the team finds you, but you are able to walk out on your own two feet with just a little assistance from Yelena. Pay no mind to what happened to your captors. It's not important.

Yelena can't go "back to normal". You're trying to, but it's clear you're still shaken, and so is she. You keep trying to laugh it off and say that you've survived worse, and she knows you're just trying to change the subject, but she doesn't push it. She's not going to force you to open up if you're not ready. All she can do is make sure you know that she's always there to support you and listen if you ever do decide you want to talk about it. You do know that. As everyone in Yelena's life knows, she might be a bit rough around the edges, but she will always be there for you when it matters most.

Bucky

Bucky tracks you down very fast. He knows these people are doing this to get to him, so he tells the Thunderbolts to stay behind and let him do this himself. Good thing they never do as they're told.

The people who took you thought they had laid the perfect trap for Bucky Barnes, but all they did was set themselves up to be pulverized by the Winter Soldier. When he does find you, you're unconscious and clearly injured. Nothing serious, but it doesn't matter; he feels more guilty than he has in a long, long time. The team covers Bucky as he runs back out to the car with you in his arms, and you're immediately rushed to the hospital. The press is already there, waiting to ask Congressman Barnes all kinds of questions about what happened tonight, but after a few choice words from Yelena and Walker, most of them leave immediately.

Even when things slowly start to go back to normal, Bucky is constantly reminded of what happened. You're sitting around and laughing with the group one night, weeks after, and he notices a bruise on your shoulder that he'd forgot you had. He wakes up in the middle of the night a lot of nights to you tossing and turning and shaking in your sleep. He holds you and repeatedly reminds you that you’re home and that you are safe. He’s reminding himself, too. This is all hell for him. Every nightmare, every scratch, and every bruise is a reminder to him that he couldn't keep you safe. He rescued you and brought you back home, but it's not enough for him. This never should've happened.

Ava

Ava woke up to the sound of alarms and glass breaking. She phased through the walls to your room right away to make sure you were okay, but you were already gone. Nowhere to be found. She’s immediately panic stricken. Who did this? Why would they take you hostage? Where did they take you?

Ava’s desperate. When Ava gets desperate, her sense of right and wrong gets very skewed. You’ve been kidnapped, and that’s wrong. Everything she’s doing in an effort to get you back is right. Or that’s how she sees it, at least. The rest of the team sees this as Ava spiraling out of control. This is a mess. These people who took you do not realize what their "leverage" means to the team, especially to Ava. They do not know what's coming.

Your rescue was not easy, and it definitely wasn't pretty, but everyone's just happy that you're home. Adjusting to business as usual after your rescue is tough, but she's there for you every step of the way. If you don't want to sleep in your room for a little while because it doesn't feel safe anymore, Ava offers you her room. She'll sleep on the ground, she'll sleep next to you, she'll sleep in the other room, whatever you want. She'll demand more security features in your room and around the tower to make you (and herself) feel safe again. If the people in maintenance and security were to question the necessity of doing this, Ava would install these features herself. Nothing like this is going to happen again, and she doesn't even want you to feel like it's a possibility. You're safe now.

John

It all happened so fast. An explosive had gone off during a fight, he’d lost sight of you for a minute, and when the smoke cleared, you were gone. He frantically searched the perimeter, but it didn’t take him long to realize what had happened. Bucky practically had to beg John to get in the car, saying they could figure out their next move back at the Watchtower. John didn't want to stop looking for you, but he knew it was the only choice he really had. Everyone's really worried about you, but John is losing his mind. His brain is plagued with images of you, scared and alone and hurt. He's snapping at the team even more than usual, but they give him a pass just this once. Ava walked by his room one night and she could hear the sound of him softly crying through the door. She never mentioned it, but she went easy on him for a few days.

Down in a dark, cold underground base, you're going in and out of consciousness. Your body aches and your head's spinning, but the moment you register that it's Walker gently taking you into his arms, you smile up at him weakly. He caresses your face, and you can feel that his hands are shaking as they trace every little wound, no matter how small. All of Walker's anger has been replaced with a weary, guilty sadness. All that aggression, replaced with a certain gentleness. He carries you out, and although you don't see much of your surroundings, it's hard to miss what remains of the poor souls who thought they could stop John Walker from breaking in to save you. It's not too shocking, though. You know he would've torn the entire world apart if he had to.

Alexei

Missions and fighting and hero activities in general are usually really fun for Alexei. This is not fun. It's so rare for the team to see him like this. He's downright miserable. Since the moment he lost you, he hasn't slept. He works alongside the team all day long to find you, and when everyone's asleep, he just paces back and forth around his room, which gets more cluttered with garbage and papers and files with each passing day.

When they find you, nothing and no one can stand in his way. He's a real sweetheart, but let's not forget how strong he is or how much damage he can do. Believe me, there's a lot of damage done in the name of your rescue. All of that is worth it for Alexei when he finds you. He gently wipes at the sweat and dirt on your face, a lot of which is dry and caked on after you've been sitting down there for nearly a week.

Alexei is so relieved to have you home, but he thought he'd feel better. There's still something... off. The illusion of total safety has been shattered. He's not able to keep you from ever getting hurt like he thought he was. If you were to try to joke about what had happened to keep spirits up, or spin it to sound like a cool story instead of the worst week of both of your lives, he'd try to go along with it. But everyone notices how his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. He's proud of you and he usually loves hearing you're cool tough stories, but this one is hitting a little too close to home for him to fully enjoy it. Maybe because he was there. Maybe because he almost lost you for real.

Bob

Bob's terrified. The team came back from a mission, but instead of you pulling him into a big hug while the team fills him in on what happened like usual, everyone is frantic and you're gone. He's never felt so helpless in his life. He breaks down the second he's alone in his room. Whenever Yelena tries to talk to him, he insists he needs to be alone, or he doesn't even respond and continues just rocking back and forth on the floor and talking to himself.

When the team tracks you down, they tell Bob to stay behind. He keeps telling himself that they're right and staying behind is the responsible thing to do, but he just can't do that. He has enough control on the Void now to use his powers, right? The team is slightly horrified when Bob shows up out of nowhere, doing everything they told him not to do, but this isn't the time to worry about that. They're definitely not going to try arguing with him right now. He's a bulletproof human shield, more powerful than any of them could ever hope to be, so it's good to have him there to help. He crashes through walls, busts down doors, and disarms everyone in his path without breaking a sweat. Then they find you. Bob rushes to your side and tears apart your restraints with his bare hands, and in a second they turn back into the gentle hands you think of when you think of your Bob. He helps you to your feet and slowly leads you back outside. As tears start to roll down his face, Bob smiles a soft smile at the others, thrilled that you're safe again. They smile back at him, but it's like they're all holding their breath until you're all fully out of there. Void may not have made a formal appearance this time, but they know now what lengths Bob will go to and what risks he'll take to ensure your safety. The man is not helpless, and he sure as hell isn't weak.

#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts x reader #marvel x reader #marvel preferences #mcu #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #ava starr #ava starr x reader #john walker #john walker x reader #bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #alexei shostakov #alexei shostakov x reader'#x reader

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monstersflashlight · 5 months ago

Text

Magic dick

A/N: It's been a while since I posted something non-request or commissioned, so here. Also, what’s more romantic than a glory hole?

Non-identified monster x fem!reader || glory hole, free use (kinda?), oral sex, dirty talk

Ending Valentine’s Day on a monster club isn’t what you were expecting, but definitely welcomed. The dance floor is great, and you talked and almost humped a couple monsters. You are keyed up and ready to ask one of them to bring you home for the night, but when your friend asks for a bathroom break, you follow her.

That’s when you see it.

There’s a door at the back, a black door with only one sign in the front that says “Let a magic dick decide your destiny”. You turn to your friend with a smile, she’s already shaking her head.

“No,” she cuts your overexcited self. "Let's go, come on," your friend says, pulling you away from the door. But you dig your heels on the floor.

"Dude, come on! It says Let a magic dick decide your destiny. We need to try it!" You know it’s very unlikely she would say yes, but you want to. You want to end your Valentine’s on a high note, and what a better note than a monster dick.

"I don't wanna try a magic dick," she says, almost exasperated.

You look at her, clasping your hands and begging her: "But I do! Come on, pleaseee!" You try to sound as annoying as possible.

"Ugh, okay, I'll wait here. Go in, have fun, if you aren't out in 30 min I'm coming in, though." She rests her back against the wall and takes her phone out, dismissing your very happy-self.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you say as you kiss her cheek loudly and open the door.

Your excitement and anticipation can’t barely keep up with the instant joy that fills your insides. You don’t have time to process why do you feel like that, though.

At the other side there’s a colorful wall with all kinds of genitals painted in pastel colors: human, monster, alien, robot… There’s so many and in so many shapes and colors that it looks almost cozy, like something you could see in a Monstagram post or something. But you don’t focus on that for very long, because in the middle of all of that, there are three holes… and one of them is occupied.

It’s in a pretty combination of purple and green, and it has ridges under the tip, forming almost a crown that looks like it could drive you into oblivion if they rubbed against your G-spot. You lick your lips, your mouth salivating at the idea of tasting him. You don’t know what kind of monster he is, but you can almost picture him with his head thrown back and maybe… maybe horns. Yeah, you’d like if he had horns.

You approach slowly, measuring your steps so he’s at least surprised when you touch him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He starts cursing as soon as you wrap your hands around his shaft.

You aren’t expecting such strong reaction, but it ignites something inside of you that drives you a bit insane with desire. You always preferred partners that were vocal, and the monster on the other side of the wall definitely is.

He’s so big, bigger than any dick you’ve ever seen before, and it’s making you all kinds of hot and bothered. “Hi there, I hope you don’t mind if I help myself here,” you tell the monster, not expecting him to say anything else, but being surprised when he does.

“Are you... who are you?” He sounds choked out, almost as if he’s holding back already and you have only touched him.

“A human,” you simply say, amusement clear in your voice. You don’t know much about glory hole etiquette, but asking for somebody’s identity is probably not it.

He takes a deep breath, sniffing the air audibly. “You smell… Fuck, you smell so good.” He groans, as if your smell is good enough to give him pleasure. His dick twitches in your hand, and well… Maybe your arousal is clear to him? You aren’t sure, but you don’t really mind it, you want to suck his cock and get out of there.

You chuckle, not the first time somebody said that to you tonight. “You can smell me from there?” You ask back, spitting on his dick and using it as lube as he whimpers pitifully.

“Yes. Fuck, yes.” You go faster, your hands working in tandem over his shaft as he bulks against the thin wall.

The sounds he’s making are desperate, and you can feel your pussy tingling as you fall to your knees in front of the hole. You think about saying something, but you end up just leaning forward and taking his tip on your mouth, your tongue softly touching the ridges at the crown until he’s begging you to take him deeper, to move faster, until he’s crying so loud you are sure even the people on the dance floor can hear him. But you don’t even care about it.

You only care about the dick in your mouth and the pathetic sounds he’s making, bulking against the wall as if he’s trying to get as far as possible down your throat. But he can’t. You have all the power, and that excites you. That drives your desire higher and higher until you are drenched and your clit is mirroring the pulses of your heartbeat.

“You are great. Fuck. You are doing perfect. You are perfect. Such a pretty mouth, such good tongue over my shaft. Holy fuck…” He’s chanting all kinds of nonsense, but you don’t answer, too busy swallowing around the shaft in your mouth. You hum a response, making the monster groan very loudly. “Goddess, darling, that feels so good…” His voice breaks in another groan, one that makes your insides twitch and your free hand travels down.

You rub your clit over your panties, thanking the universe for wearing the cute little dress that allows you to touch yourself easily. “Are you touching yourself? Fuck, that’s so hot! Get yourself there, darling, please.” You don’t even question how he knows, but knowing he’s aware of your hand in your panties makes you swallow around him, groaning around his shaft. “Finger that pretty pussy for me. Make yourself come with my dick in your mouth.” His words are exhilarating, you’ve never been with somebody who didn’t make dirty talk sound corny, but good damn it if he isn’t helping you out with that dirty mouth.

You do as he says, rubbing your clit at the same time you jerk him off, your mouth too little to take all of him, not even half. He doesn’t seem to care, cursing and screaming for the Goddess as you drive him crazy with your mouth and hand. You push two fingers inside your welcoming pussy, rubbing the heel of your hand against your clit.

The combined sensation between your hand and the cock in your mouth is enough to make your eyes roll back into your head, the symphony of your mixed moans ascending you to heaven. Your back and knees hurt, but you don’t care, you can’t care. You are so close. So, so close…

“I’m… I’m coming. Goddess, fuck. Holy fuck. Come with me, darling, please, let me smell your orgasm…” His words mean nothing, but they are enough to drive you over the edge.

You clench around your fingers at the same time he screams and your throat is filled with his seed. He tastes sweet, almost like pie (the joke in there isn’t missed). You hum around his shaft until he’s begging and crying out, pulling back as you smile and run your tongue over your lips, catching the last drops of his release. You lick your own fingers as you get up, humming happily and sated.

“Wait there,” he grunts across the wall, the dick disappearing completely as you wipe your mouth and get your dress down.

You chuckle, walking to the door and opening to find your friend looking over your shoulder. You turn around just in time to see a very big, very scary purple and green monster barreling down the hallway, dick still wet and hanging out his open pants.

Turns out the magic dick could predict who would be your soulmate, and nobody was expecting for you to be the mate of the dick in question… Not even him.

#monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster x reader #terato #monster boyfriend #monster fuqqer #monster kink #monster love #monster lover #monster romance #monster smut #monster x you #monsterfucker #monsterfucking nsft #monster original #non-identified monster

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