#and don't come at me about 'well that was normal for the time!!!'

[4nyangnyangz]

— checkmate! ♟️

synopsis: it was supposed to be just a normal hangout for you and your best friend, Taehyun until the both of you decide to add a little twist to the game of chess that you were playing, uncovering hidden truths and removing a piece of clothing with each loss. the game leads to the both of you revealing unspoken desires and dealing with the suffocating tension between you. a certain turn of events causes the both of you to discover that your friendship may evolve beyond platonic boundaries.

pairings: best friend!taehyun x fem reader

tags/warnings: nsfw content! minors dni. smut, masturbation, fingering, oral(f receiving), unprotected sex(wrap it before u tap it!), overstimulation, creampie, slight exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, best friends to lovers(?), freaky chess if that makes sense, LOTS of teasing and sexual tension.

wordcount: 5k!! THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD.

a/n: HEOL I can't believe I'm reaching 200-400+ notes already, it all seems so surreal to me still, but i'm really thankful for all the support!! I do have to say I would consider this as my actual first smut fic(the guitarist gyu fic was just a glimpse lol) so I may have gotten carried away on some of the scenes.... i'm still not too confident with writing smut so pls go easy on me! 🙏 happy tyun month! <3

fic below the cut!!

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It was your typical Saturday afternoon when you found yourself at Taehyun's place. The weather outside was gloomy, clouds hanging low, casting an overcast that matched the lazy mood you were in. You knocked on the door to his apartment, a soft thud as your knuckles met the wood.

A few moments later, the door opened, revealing your best friend, Taehyun, standing with a wide grin that revealed his dimples and perfect teeth.

“Hey, y/n, I'm glad you made it,” he greeted, stepping aside so you could enter. “So, what are we doing today?”

You shrugged, offering a playful smirk. “I don't know. Just whatever sounds fun, I guess.”

He motioned toward his living room, where a table sat in the center. On top of it rests a chessboard which made your heart skip a beat. You’d played countless games of chess with your siblings over the years, but to your surprise, you recall you haven't actually played chess with Taehyun before.

Something about the way your best friend looked at you today made you feel like this particular game might be different.

What did he come up with this time..... you thought to yourself.

“How about a chess match?” Taehyun casually suggests, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really, Taehyun? You know I'm not exactly a pro, right?”

Taehyun chuckled. “Well, I'm not either. Besides, it's not about winning or losing. It's about... having fun.”

You shrugged, intrigued. “Okay, sure. But if I get destroyed, I'm blaming you.”

He chuckles as he set the pieces up with practiced ease. You took your seat across from him, ready to dive into a familiar rhythm. But as he moved his first piece—a white pawn, his eyes twinkled as he leaned back.

“Actually,” Taehyun said, his voice had a lower tone, “I was thinking we could play with a twist.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity visible in your expression.“A twist?”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips curling into a smile. “For every time someone gets a check on the other player, the person who’s in check has to answer a question. No dodging. No lying. Honest answers only.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but you nodded in response. It was a bit unconventional, but it wasn’t like you had anything to hide, and you have always been able to talk to Taehyun about anything. Still, there was something in the air—something unspoken between you two. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it made your pulse quicken just a little. You knew it wasn't going to be easy, especially knowing how Taehyun could come up with something you'd least expect at any time.

“Deal. But don't expect me to go easy on you.” You said, picking up your knight and making your first move, dragging it across your row of pawns and placing it on the board.

The game began smoothly, both of you slipping into familiar roles. Taehyun's confidence was clear as always, despite it being your first time playing chess with him, it was clear he wasn't going to go easy on you. The sound of the pieces clicking into place was oddly comforting.

But the twist, the questions, were a different element altogether. You found yourself becoming more aware of Taehyun's every move, every glance. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you as he moved his pieces. You tried your best to keep calm, but you couldn't deny that it was slightly affecting your ability to focus.

By the time you’d captured his bishop, it was already becoming clear that this wouldn’t be a typical match. Your thoughts were scattered; you weren't focused solely on the game anymore.

When you made a bold move, putting him in check, you grinned. “Check,” you muttered softly, eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Alright, question time.”

Taehyun adjusted in his seat, grinning as if he was starting to have a glimpse of where this game was heading. “Ask away.”

You leaned back slightly, tapping your chin as you thought. “If you could change one thing about our friendship, what would it be?”

He blinked in surprise, not expecting such a serious question coming from you. He pauses for a minute before replying, “Wow, I wasn't expecting that kind of question.”

“Don't give me that, you added these rules in the first place. Honest answers only, remember?” you chuckled, seeing how he got flustered after your question. You were just starting to enjoy this game, after all.

You observed him as he contemplated, biting his lower lip as if he was trying to find the right words before answering. You couldn't hide the smile tugging from the corners of your lips as you figured from his hesitation that he was starting to regret adding these rules to what was supposed to be a simple chess game in the first place.

There was an immediate shift in his expression as he answers, however, catching you off guard.

“Nothing. I like how our friendship is right now. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As his words settled in, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment creep in before you could stop it. You had hoped—just maybe—that his answer would hint at something more, something beyond friendship. But instead, it was safe and neutral. You swallowed the feeling quickly, masking it with a chuckle as you leaned back slightly.

“Good answer,” you said, forcing an easygoing tone.

But your mind lingered on it longer than it should have, and it showed in your next move, as much as you didn't want for it to. Your fingers hesitated before settling on the wrong piece. Taehyun, always perceptive, caught the shift on your behavior immediately. He could have called you out on it, but he didn’t have to. Instead, he seized the opportunity on the board, swiftly capturing one of your pieces and cornering you into a check.

A small smirk played on his lips as he rested his chin on his hand. “Check,” he murmured, then tilted his head slightly.“My turn.”

His eyes held yours for a second too long, and then he asked, almost a little directly for your liking.

“What do you think are the chances that what we have could be something more than friendship?”

Your heart stuttered.

Your eyes widened and your breath was caught in your throat, heat rushing to your face as you scrambled to form a response. Your mind raced between a thousand possible answers, each one tangled with feelings you weren't sure you were ready to admit out loud.

“I—” You hesitated, looking anywhere but at him.

Taehyun’s gaze didn’t waver. “No lying, y/n.” he reminded you, his voice softer this time but firm. “Just honest answers, remember?”

One thing about Taehyun is that whatever game you play with him, he definitely plays it better. You are just now realizing that you shouldn't have provoked him first.

You cleared your throat, trying to pretend your mind wasn't a mess before answering, but clearly failing as you let the words slip out of your mouth. “Um, well... I don't know. That depends. You said you liked how it is right now, and I like the way things are too, so-”

“Y/N,” Taehyun is quick to snap you out of it and you blink in confusion, your eyes meeting his gaze.

“You do know that I've known you enough to tell when you're lying or not, right?”

You stared at him, heat creeping up your neck as you tried to keep your expression neutral. “I'm not lying,” you insisted, gripping the edge of the table just a little too tightly. “I really haven't thought about it that way, and even so, I just like it the way it is now.”

Taehyun didn't say anything right away, just watched you with that knowing look that made it impossible to hide anything from him. He had always been good at reading you—probably a bit too good. It was both infuriating and terrifying, to say the least.

A small smirk curled at the edge of his lips. “Alright then,” he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair.“Why don't we up the stakes a bit?”

You narrowed your eyes, suddenly wary. “....what do you mean?”

“For every check from here on out, instead of asking a question, the person in check takes off a piece of clothing.” Taehyun suggests, not breaking eye contact.

You felt your stomach flip at the idea.“Are you serious right now?”

“As serious as you were when you said you hadn't thought about us being more than friends,” he shot back, his tone deceptively casual.

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded.“That's ridiculous. Why would I even agree to that?”

“Because I know you'd never back down from a challenge,” he said simply, tilting his head slightly. “Unless, of course, you were lying earlier and you're actually worried about losing your focus.”

You bristled at that, fully aware that he was baiting you. And even worse, it was working.

Your pride warred with your common sense, but Taehyun just sat there, waiting, perfectly composed, perfectly unreadable. He wasn’t going to let this go, and you knew it.

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms. You felt your heartbeat start going faster at the idea that you're going to play a much more dangerous game from now on.

“Fine. But don’t think for a second that I’m going easy on you.”

His smirk widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And with that, the game resumed. Only now, the stakes were much, much higher.

———————

You scanned your remaining pieces, picking up your rook and aimed for his king that was left open.

“Check.” you muttered hesitantly, obviously not prepared for what was about to happen next.

You barely registered the sound of Taehyun’s sigh as he unhooked his fingers from the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. The moment the fabric slipped away, your brain short-circuited.

Oh no.

You knew he had been working out a lot lately. He always made a point to update you—sometimes with a casual text, sometimes with a mirror selfie from the gym that you pretended not to analyze too much. But seeing him like this, right in front of you, was entirely different. His broad shoulders, the sharp definition of his abs, the way his toned arms flexed slightly as he tossed his shirt to the side—everything about him suddenly felt... distracting.

Way too distracting.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral, but it was a losing battle. Your thoughts were loud, so loud, and no matter how hard you tried to focus back on the game, all you could think about was how ridiculously good he looked. You were having a hard time even trying to look at the board without getting distracted by his bare torso as he sat across from you.

“Your move,” Taehyun reminded you, his voice was smooth and amused.

You blinked, realizing you had been staring just a second too long. You quickly dropped your gaze to the board, but the pieces were all a blur. What were you even doing? What was your strategy? Did you even have one?

A quiet chuckle broke your already fragile focus. You glanced up, only to see Taehyun watching you with a knowing smirk, his chin resting lazily on his hand. He wasn’t saying anything, but his expression said enough.

He knew.

He knew the effect he had on you. He knew exactly what was going through your mind, and he was enjoying every second of it.

“Why? Is there something wrong?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

You scoffed, quickly reaching for a piece just to seem composed.“Nope. Just thinking.”

“Thinking,” he echoed, clearly amused. “Right. About your next move, or something else?”

You shot him a glare, but your face was already burning, and Taehyun—ever perceptive, definitely noticed. His smirk deepened, and he let out another soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“Y/N,” he mused, his voice low and teasing, “for someone who insists they haven’t thought about us being more than friends… you sure are an open book right now.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, your voice lacking any real bite as you forced yourself to look away from his ridiculously smug expression. You needed to focus. You needed to stop thinking about the fact that Taehyun was very much shirtless, very much toned, and very much aware of how flustered you were.

With a sharp inhale, you made your move, pushing a piece forward with more force than necessary.

Big mistake.

You realized it a second too late. The moment your fingers left the piece, you internally cursed yourself. But it was too late to take it back.

Taehyun hummed, clearly noticing your slip-up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he made his move seamlessly, as if he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. Meanwhile, your mind was still a mess, thoughts tangled between the game and the way his bare shoulders flexed slightly with each motion.

Another move. Another mistake.

You clenched your jaw, trying desperately to regain control, but the damage was already done. With each exchange, you slipped further and further into a losing position. And then, just as you were scrambling to fix things, Taehyun’s fingers moved decisively, and your heart sank.

“Check.”

You stared at the board, dread pooling in your stomach.

Oh, fuck.

No, no, no.

You were trapped. Your pieces were cornered, and there was no easy way out of it. Slowly, you lifted your gaze, only to be met with Taehyun’s expectant grin. He leaned back slightly, arms resting lazily on the chair, clearly waiting.

And that was when the real horror sank in.

You immediately regretted not wearing more layers. A jacket. A hoodie. Maybe a coat or two. Anything that could have saved you from this exact moment.

Swallowing hard, you hesitantly reached for the hem of your shirt, fingers curling around the fabric. Your pulse pounded in your ears as hesitation gripped you.

Then, before you could move any further, Taehyun's voice cut through the charged silence, soft and serious.

“You know,” he said, his teasing edge completely gone, “if you're not comfortable with this, you can just surrender and we can stop right here. I'm fine with it, but you really don't have to push yourself.”

Taehyun's gaze held yours, steady and unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you shifted. His words fully settled in, his offer to stop the game still lingering in the air.

You looked down at the board, your eyes scanning the remaining pieces. There weren’t many left. The game was reaching its final stretch, and you were dangerously close to losing. The logical choice was to surrender, to let yourself off the hook before this got even more out of hand.

But something inside you refused.

Maybe it was your competitive streak. Maybe it was the way Taehyun had been teasing you all night, getting under your skin like he always did, always so composed, so sure of himself. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that some part of you wanted to prove to yourself that you could handle this. That being this close to him, playing this ridiculous game, didn’t affect you as much as it did.

Well, it did, but you weren’t ready to admit that yet.

You exhaled slowly, lifting your gaze to meet his.“I want to keep going.”

Taehyun studied you for a moment, his usual smirk replaced by something softer, something laced with concern. “Y/N… are you sure?”

“I mean it,” you insisted, forcing a small, almost defiant smile. “What? Are you worried I might actually beat you or something?”

He didn’t answer right away, but his lips twitched, as if amused by your bravado. Still, his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation. And when he found none—or maybe just saw that you were too stubborn to admit it, he leaned back with a sigh.

“Alright then,” he said, though his voice was quieter now.“But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Your stomach twisted as you finally gripped the hem of your shirt, heart hammering in your chest. The moment you pulled your shirt over your head and placed it to the side, the cold air of the room hit your skin instantly, sending a shiver down your spine.

If I had known I would've ended up doing this, I should've worn better underwear... you thought to yourself as you felt your face heat up.

And that’s when it really sank in.

You were sitting across from your best friend while playing chess, the both of you half-naked, just the two of you, in his apartment. Alone.

You felt the weight of the situation settle over you, a mixture of embarrassment and something else entirely crawling up your spine. Every inch of you was hyper-aware of the fact that his gaze was on you now. You weren’t looking at him, you refused to, but you could feel it. A flicker of movement in the corner of your eye, a subtle shift in his posture. You could've sworn you caught the change in his expression the moment you took off your shirt.

Still, you forced yourself to focus, swallowing hard as you reached forward to make your next move. Your fingers trembled slightly, but you steadied them, determined not to let this affect your game any more than it already had.

Even as you sensed Taehyun’s lingering gaze towards you, you kept your eyes locked on the board, pretending like this was just another match. Like your heart wasn’t just about to jump out of your chest.

Despite the undeniable tension crackling between you, the game pressed on.

Each move was careful, calculated, yet neither of you could fully ignore the underlying awareness now lingering in the air. The playful teasing had faded into something else. Something heavier, something unspoken. And through it all, Taehyun remained unusually quiet.

It wasn’t until a few moves later, when the game was teetering dangerously close to its end, that he finally broke the silence.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved a piece forward.“What should the winner get as a prize?”

You blinked, realizing only now that he hadn’t muttered a single word since you had taken off your shirt.

Your fingers, which had been hovering over your next move, paused mid-air as you glanced up at him. He was doing his best to appear nonchalant, but there was a slight stiffness in his posture, a certain tightness in his jaw that made your pulse quicken.

Was he��. struggling too?

The realization made something stir in you, a quiet thrill creeping into your chest. You felt relieved and slightly amused at the realization that he had grown awfully silent compared to how he was earlier.

So it wasn’t just you.

Your lips curved slightly as you leaned back. “I don’t know,” you mused, tilting your head. “What do you think?”

Taehyun’s eyes flickered to yours before he offered a small shrug.“How about the loser gets the winner a gift or something?”

You hummed to yourself, pretending to think it over. But really, you were studying the board, judging the current situation of your pieces. It was neck and neck now, one wrong move from either of you would decide everything.

And suddenly, an idea struck you.

You glanced up at him, feeling a boldness rise within you, fueled by the tension, by the competition, by the fact that he wasn’t as unaffected as he had seemed.

“You know what would be more interesting?” you said, voice smooth, teasing. “The loser has to do anything the winner asks them to do. Anything. No matter how extreme. There's no limit.”

Taehyun stilled for a fraction of a second. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smirk—one that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Anything, huh?” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone.

You met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down.“Anything.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if measuring your resolve. Then, with a low chuckle, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“Alright,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly. “But just remember, Y/N… you were the one who suggested it.”

Your heart pounded at his words. There's no turning back now.... you thought to yourself.

And with that, the final stretch of the game began.

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

The game had never felt more intense.

Each move was deliberate, each decision weighed carefully, but the tension between you both made it nearly impossible to think straight. The stakes were higher now, not just because of the game itself, but because of what came after. It was a battle of wits, of patience, of knowing exactly how to push each other’s limits, both in the game and outside of it. Neither of you wanted to lose.

You held your breath as Taehyun studied the board, his eyes scanning for an opening. His brows furrowed slightly in concentration, his fingers resting near a piece—but then, in an unexpected moment of miscalculation,

Taehyun made the wrong move.

It was subtle, something he normally wouldn’t have overlooked, but the second his fingers left the piece, you saw it. You saw the opening you needed. You didn't hesitate.

You moved your piece with confidence, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.

“Checkmate.”

Taehyun blinked. He looked down at the board, lips parting slightly as he replayed the sequence in his mind, and the realization flashed across his face for just a second before he sighed, leaning back.

He had lost.

For a moment, you simply stared at the board, almost not believing it yourself. You had won. You had actually beaten Taehyun. All the built-up tension, all the stress of the game, came crashing down in the form of uncontrollable excitement. Maybe a little too much, but you couldn’t help it.

“Yes! I won!” You shot up from your seat, cheering and throwing your arms up in victory. “I actually won!”

Taehyun exhaled, shaking his head as he watched you practically bounce in place. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, lips twitching. “No need to rub it in.”

“Oh, but I do need to rub it in,” you teased with a grin, slightly leaning down towards him.“Losing in the very game you suggested? That’s kind of embarrassing, don’t you think?”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair and avoiding eye-contact with you. “I was careless. That last move… I shouldn’t have made that. But it was a close game.”

“But you did make that move,” you snickered, still basking in your victory. “And now you have to do whatever I ask. No matter how extreme. No limits, remember?”

Taehyun sighed, finally looking up at you with a small, amused shake of his head. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You won fair and square.”

Then, his expression shifted, growing more serious as he leaned forward.“So? What do you want me to do?”

You froze.

Oh, right. The prize.

You had been so focused on beating him, so determined to win, that you hadn’t actually thought about what you wanted.

Your excitement faded slightly as you sat back down, humming to yourself in thought. What did you want? You had thrown out the challenge so boldly, but now that the power was actually in your hands, you realized you had no idea what to do with it.

While you were still contemplating, Taehyun cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he muttered, voice quieter now. “While you decide, could you... put your shirt back on? The game's over, so....”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the request. But then you caught it—the slight unsteadiness in his tone, the way his voice was slightly shaky, the way his jaw was just a little too tense.

And when you really looked at him, you could see it. The way his fingers curled against his knee, the way his eyes flickered anywhere but directly at you. He had been keeping himself composed this entire time, but now that the game was over, his self-restraint was starting to crumble.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized you weren't the only one struggling to keep composure. Taehyun’s usual confident facade had shown cracks tonight, and you decided to have a little fun with it. With a playful smirk tugging at your lips, you crossed your arms and refused his request outright.

“Why should I put my shirt back on?” you teased, your voice low and mischievous. “Were you too distracted by me that you couldn’t make your move properly or something? I could’ve sworn I caught you glancing at my chest earlier.”

For a moment, Taehyun’s eyes widened in mock indignation before he sighed, his defeat evident. He leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to smooth over the embarrassment.

“Believe it or not, Y/N,” he admitted, his tone softening with a trace of exasperation and honesty, “I'm a man too. I have no control of whatever physiological reaction my body has when a girl takes off her shirt in front of me.”

The confession hung in the air between you both, charged with unspoken meaning. His words, laced with vulnerability, made you feel a warmth that rivaled the playful teasing in your heart. You couldn’t help but let a genuine laugh escape, mingling amusement with the thrill of having the upper hand.

“Oh, really?” you replied, leaning in slightly as if daring him to say more.“So all those missed moves were because you were busy drooling?”

Taehyun’s cheeks flushed, and despite his best efforts to maintain composure, a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.“Maybe,” he grumbled good-naturedly.“But I can’t help it when you're… too distracting.”

In that moment, the tension shifted from the competitive spark of the game to something warmer and more intimate. The room, filled with the cool draft against your bare skin, suddenly felt charged with anticipation.

Taehyun’s honest admission had stirred something inside you, and suddenly the charged air of the room felt almost too intense to bear. In an effort to lighten the mood, you blurted out a terrible joke with a nervous chuckle, hoping to defuse the heat of the moment.

“Huh, I'm glad I won then,” you said with a lopsided grin. “I can't even imagine what you'd ask me to do for you if you ended up winning. What, were you going to ask me to kiss you or something?”

The words tumbled out almost too fast, and you chuckled awkwardly, immediately realizing the weight of your own words. For a heartbeat, silence reigned, punctuating the sudden vulnerability of the moment.

Before you could second-guess yourself, Taehyun’s expression shifted. The playful glimmer in his eyes was replaced by a resolute seriousness. Leaning forward with a calm intensity, he cut straight to the chase.

“Well, you're the winner. If you asked me to kiss you right now, I'll do it.”

The words hit you like a jolt. For an instant, your heart pounded, and you felt a flush of unexpected heat. You hadn’t meant for things to escalate so quickly, this was entirely unanticipated.

Your laughter wavered, replaced by a trembling silence. The playful banter had crossed a line, and suddenly every word felt amplified, every heartbeat echoing the gravity of the moment. You met his gaze, searching for a sign that maybe this was all just another game, but his eyes held nothing but earnest intent, leaving you breathless and uncertain of how to respond.

For a moment, you were unable to speak, unable to find the words to diffuse the tension or turn his request down. Your mind spun with every possibility, but your body responded without your conscious consent.

A warmth pooled in your core, and a tingling sensation spread across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You squirmed in place, shifting uncomfortably as the heat built in your lower abdomen. A whimper escaped from your lips before you could silence it, and with fumbling fingers, you discreetly rubbed the tops of your thighs together. The friction provided only partial relief as you tried to massage the pulsing ache away.

“I, um... Taehyun, I—” you stuttered, struggling to form coherent words. His gaze remained fixed on yours, a hint of gentle encouragement in the furrow of his brow. He was waiting for your response, and all the while, the pounding in your chest threatened to drown out your own thoughts.

You shook your head, desperate to regain control and steer the conversation back towards safer waters. Your words tumbled out in a nervous rush, contradicting the very actions your body had betrayed.

You bit down on your lower lip, hoping to contain the arousal that was building inside you. It was a futile effort; the ache between your thighs only intensified as you stole a glance at Taehyun. His gaze was fixed on yours as he waited for you to continue, his curious round eyes staring right at you seemed to only fuel your growing need.

You rubbed the tops of your thighs again, seeking any form of relief from the pulsing heat. But it was no use, and before you could stop yourself, your legs wobbled and gave way under their own strength. With an embarrassed squeak, you leaned into Taehyun, placing your hands on his shoulders for support that stopped yourself from completely falling to the floor.

Today was the first time you’d ever seen Taehyun’s shirtless. Even being this close to him and touching him like this felt strangely new and intimate to you, as if you were beginning to blur the lines that marked the boundaries of your friendship with him. But the thought fled from your mind as soon as Taehyun wrapped his right arm around your waist, providing balance and support with a gentle yet stable hold on the small of your back. Those months of him going back and forth to the gym turned out to be pretty useful in this moment, after all.

His touch sparked another jolt of electricity through your core, amplifying the pulsing ache between your thighs. A soft moan escaped from your lips, and your breathing grew heavy as you struggled to maintain your composure. You were a flushed mess, knowing Taehyun must have heard you considering how close you are to him at this moment.

You felt Taehyun’s gaze linger on you as the corner of his lips formed into a smirk.“Is this what you want?” he whispered, his voice raspy and low.“You want me to hold you like this?”

Taehyun’s warm breath tickled your ear as he spoke, the pulsing ache in your core growing stronger and harder to resist. His hold on your waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling you closer as he leaned in to speak again.

“Tell me, y/n. Is that what you want me to do?”

Your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts and desires. All the while, Taehyun held you in his embrace, his bare chest pressed against yours. The heady scent of his perfume wafted through the air, heightening your senses to an unbearable level of arousal.

You were embarrassed and desperate, clinging onto him for dear life. His body pressed against yours was more than you could handle, and every part of you wanted to surrender to the lustful urges that had taken over. It didn’t matter that Taehyun was your best friend—your best friend of four years, for goodness’ sake. In this moment, all that mattered was for only him to satisfy your desires, and no one else.

The tighter you clung onto Taehyun, the more you could feel his body pressed against yours. And the more you needed him, you needed his touch in places that you couldn’t reach on your own. Every movement seemed to press your thigh against the hard bulge of his own arousal, the heat of his crotch against your core through the fabric of his pants. The sensations combined into an overwhelming ache, and it was all you could do to hold on for dear life.

With a deep breath, you gathered up every ounce of courage to confess your desires, whispering into his ear.

“Fuck, I... need you,” you stammered, voice trembling with need. “I want you, Taehyun, please...”

The moment you uttered those words, Taehyun stiffened. There was a pause of hesitation, a moment of anticipation as you both waited for the inevitable. Then, with a playful chuckle and a teasing note in his tone, Taehyun whispered into your ear.

“Took you long enough.”

Before you could process what he’d just said, Taehyun swept you up into his arms. You squealed in surprise at the sudden shift, but it quickly turned into a gasp as he placed his fingers on your thighs, wrapping around your legs in an intimate embrace as he carries you. Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to burst forth in anticipation of what was to come.

With your arms wrapped tighter around Taehyun’s shoulders, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. It felt too embarrassing, too shameful to look at your best friend knowing that you were about to cross a line from which there was no turning back. You felt him chuckle as a response and yet, you couldn’t help but cling to him, needing the support and reassurance as he carried you to his bed and laid you down.

You closed your eyes in anticipation of the inevitable, waiting for Taehyun to climb on top and cover your body with his own. But instead of the heavy weight of his frame, you felt a featherlight touch on your knee. Your eyes snapped open, and your gaze met his, the corners of his lips forming into a smirk and his gaze is fixated on you. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks from the sight of him.

Taehyun knelt between your thighs, the fingers on your knee stroking up and down the length of your leg.“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice low and husky in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“I-” you stammered, unable to think straight. “I...please, Taehyun.”

You couldn’t seem to form any coherent words, so you let your eyes plead your case. They met his in a desperate search for an answer, but all you found was his unwavering gaze and a small smile on his lips.

“Do...please,” you whimpered helplessly, losing the battle of wills between you two.

“Please what?”

“Please...” you gasped again, struggling against the overwhelming waves of arousal that seemed to suffocate you.“I just need you,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Please, do anything you want with me—just...I want to cum, okay?”

You felt the flush rise to your cheeks at the words you’d just uttered. It was so unlike you, so desperate and needy. But with Taehyun looming above you like that, there was no way you could think straight.

Taehyun laughed then, a husky sound that was filled with amusement and desire. The fingers on your thigh stilled, and he looked down on you with a reassuring gaze.“Don’t worry,” he murmured.“I’ll make you cum as much as you want.”

His hand reached down to your shorts. Your breath was caught in your throat as he tugged the waistband, dragging both your shorts and your underwear down, exposing your inner thighs and core to his hungry gaze. But before you could even register the loss of clothing, Taehyun had grasped your thighs and pushed them open.

“Ah!” you squealed, arching your back from the sudden movement. Your hands flew up to cover yourself, but Taehyun soon had them pinned above your head.

“Be a good girl for me, y/n.” he chuckled as he leaned over you.“Let me get you ready first.”

You squirmed at his words, unable to stop the rising tide of desire within you. But there was only so little you could do as Taehyun started massaging your inner thighs, slowly inching his way up towards your core.

His fingers skimmed across your clit and over your pussy lips, the gentle pressure sending sparks of electricity across your nerves. Your hips arched into his touch with a will of their own, and you could feel the wetness of your arousal coating his fingertips with a growing slickness. He teased your clit with slow circles and tugs, driving the building heat between your legs to an unbearable peak.

“Taehyun,” you whined, unable to contain your pleas any longer.“Please—” your words ended in a broken moan, punctuated by the relentless teasing of his fingers on your clit.

Taehyun smiled, and his eyes never left yours as he leaned down to lick your wetness off his fingers. Your whole body flushed at the sight, and you couldn’t seem to look away from the intimate action of his tongue lapping up the evidence of your arousal.

“Please,” you begged again, losing all composure. “I need you inside me....”

Taehyun hummed, and with a teasing grin, he leaned in closer.“Okay,” he whispered into your ear.“I’m gonna give you exactly what you want. But I promise you, y/n, it’s gonna be so much better than you’ve imagined, so just trust me.”

And before you could say another word, Taehyun shifted his body, lowering himself between your thighs to leave you trembling with anticipation. His tongue flicked out, swiping over the length of your slit and over your clit. You gasped, bucking your hips in desperation as he settled his lips over your core, lapping and sucking on your arousal with a hunger that rivalled your own.

“Oh fuck—fuck! Taehyun...!!” you moaned, your mind reeling from the pleasure coursing through your body. The slick heat of Taehyun’s mouth covered you in waves of your blissful release, and you could only arch your back and succumb to the onslaught of pleasure that he had unleashed on you.

The first orgasm hit you suddenly, and all you could do was grab Taehyun’s hair with a wordless cry. Your pussy clenched with the force of your release, pulsing with an ache that threatened to tear you apart. But Taehyun didn’t let up, not even a bit. His tongue only seemed to grow more eager, his lips sealing tighter around your core as he sucked you dry with the fervour of a starving man.

The second orgasm hit you harder, and this time your voice rang out clear in the quiet of his bedroom. Your hands fell limp to the sides, too spent to do more than writhe under Taehyun’s relentless touch. And still, he wouldn’t let up. Even as your legs began to tremble with fatigue, even as your whole body trembled from the aftershocks of your second release, Taehyun’s fingers and mouth continued their ministrations.

It was more pleasure than you could take, more than your body could bear, and yet you were so desperate for his touch that you couldn’t bring yourself to say stop. All you could do was cling to the bed sheets, your mind a haze of lust and arousal as Taehyun devoured your wet pussy like it was his last meal.

Finally, it was Taehyun who drew back, his breathing heavy and his lips slick with your juices. He sat up, his gaze flicking over your body as if taking stock of what he’d accomplished. You watched him with hazy eyes, still struggling to regain your composure in the face of what you’d experienced.

Taehyun smirked then, satisfaction plain on his expression as he saw the state you were in. He reached up to wipe off his lips, and without a second thought, he pushed two fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean while looking straight into your eyes. A new wave of arousal washes over you at the sight and you could only let out a whimper at the expectations of what's about to come next.

Taehyun turned back to unbuckle his belt, and you watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he tugged down his pants. His hard cock sprang free, and you gasped at the sight before you. Taehyun was big, almost impossibly big, and the throbbing of his cock only served to make you realize why he’d had to prepare you like that first.

A soft laugh escaped Taehyun’s lips as he saw your reaction.“Didn’t expect that, huh?”

You shook your head, unable to voice a response as Taehyun climbed off the bed.

“I’m not exactly carrying any condoms around, I wasn't expecting for this to happen today-” he admitted, his chuckle low and his cheeks a tint of pink from embarrassment.“So...are you okay with this? Just trust me and I'll pull out, I promise-”

You nodded hastily at his words, too desperate for him to make the offer.“I trust you, Taehyun,” you said with a gasp of breath.“I trust you.”

Taehyun smiled at your response, and without a word, he leaned forward to kiss you. His lips were hot on yours, their touch sending shivers down your spine. You gasped into his mouth, and Taehyun took advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue in.

He kissed you with an intimacy that was more than enough to drive you wild, and even when he pulled back, he didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned down to remove your bra, his fingers gentle as they traced over your skin and unhooked the clasp at your back. A quiet moan escaped your lips as his fingers brushed over the skin of your back, but it only grew louder when he began massaging your breasts.

“Taehyun—” you whimpered, his name a broken plea on your lips.“Please—I’m—” you couldn’t finish, couldn’t get out the words to express just how desperate you were to have him inside of you. But Taehyun understood all the same.

He positioned himself between your legs again, the tip of his hard cock brushing against the slick of your entrance. You arched your back in anticipation, body trembling from the growing need within you.

“Ready?” Taehyun murmured against your ear, his breath hot on your skin.“Tell me if it hurts or if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nodded, unable to say anything else. Taehyun groaned in response, his body leaning over yours as he began to push himself in slowly. The stretch of his cock was more than enough to make you moan, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips.

“Shit, Y/N!” Taehyun cursed under his breath.“You’re so tight.” He leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle as he continued to push into your core. Your whimpers turned to cries of pleasure as he bottomed out, your whole body trembling from the overwhelming sensations that threatened to consume you.

“Fuck,” Taehyun breathed, his eyes fluttering close for a moment.“Ahh, fuck—” he gasped again, drawing back before pushing into you once more.

And that was it. The thrusts started slow and shallow, but soon grew to deeper and faster thrusts. Your nails dug into Taehyun’s back, and your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him in closer. The waves of pleasure washed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to drown you in their depths. And all you could do was hold on to Taehyun with everything you had, your lips sealing over his as he fucked you into the bed with everything he had.

Your breathing came in short, desperate gasps as his cock ravaged your wet pussy, your body writhing under him as his thrusts grew deeper and faster. Every movement of his sent sparks of electricity coursing over your skin, every thrust building your need to the breaking point until you could hold on no more. With a loud cry, your body tensed, and your pussy clenched down on Taehyun’s cock with enough force to make him cry out in response.

Taehyun slowed his thrusts to give you a moment’s respite, but even as you felt the aftershocks coursing through your core, he started moving again. His cock began to pound into you harder, deeper, and you couldn’t stop the cries that fell from your lips.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Taehyun groaned, his breaths growing heavy and desperate.

“Y/N, fuck, I—” his thrusts became shorter, and you knew he was close, so close to cumming too. “I can’t—I won’t last much longer. If you want me to pull out—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence. “No, Taehyun— I want to feel your cum,” you gasped, your voice broken with need.“I'm on the pill, so please—I want you to fill me up....”

A soft curse escaped Taehyun’s throat, and before you could say anything else, he started rutting into you like an animal. Your whimpers grew louder, your pussy clenching down on him with a force that threatened to suck the cum right out of him. His thrusts grew wilder, deeper, until he let out one final groan and shuddered above you. The warmth of his cum flooded your core, filling you up with his load deep inside you and your own release soon followed in its wake.

Taehyun collapsed on top of you, his weight crushing the breath from your lungs. You didn’t even care, couldn’t even process the overwhelming pleasure that still coursed through you like a raging tide. All you could manage was to cling to Taehyun’s broad shoulders, holding him close as the aftershocks ravaged your core with wave after wave of your release.

And when Taehyun finally rolled over, pulling out of you with a soft grunt of pleasure, you couldn’t do anything but fall limp against the bed.

“Fuck,” Taehyun muttered, his hand reaching up to card through your hair.“That was.....amazing.”

You chuckled into his chest, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through you as his softening cock slipped from your core.

“You’re...” Taehyun whispered, his fingers brushing over the strands of your hair. His touch was light, gentle, and his words sent shivers down your spine.“I always knew that you were gorgeous but I never knew you could be so beautiful like this. I never knew you could look so cute.”

You smiled at that, his words sending warmth to your chest. You reached up, wrapping your arms around Taehyun’s neck and pulling him into a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you, and without any prompting, he rolled over until you were lying on his chest with his arms still wrapped around you.

“Can I clean you up?” he offered after a moment, his voice soft and gentle.

You shook your head hastily at that, the idea of being parted from him suddenly becoming unbearable.“No,” you stammered, pulling him closer as if to prevent him from moving.“Just let me stay like this, please.”

Taehyun chuckled at your words, his lips pressing against your hairline.“As long as you want,” he murmured, holding you tighter still.

The room was silent for a long moment then, neither of you doing anything but basking in the warmth of the other’s embrace. But then, suddenly and without warning, you were reminded of the answer he’d given earlier.

“Nothing”, he’d said, his response echoing in your ears like a cold slap to the face.“I like how our friendship is now. I wouldn’t want to change a thing.”

He hadn’t even thought of anything beyond that, hadn’t even considered the possibility of more. It was just you, desperate and shameless. And now—

“Why?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, your body suddenly tensing in Taehyun’s arms. “Why did you say that earlier?” you asked again, turning your head to look up at him.

Taehyun blinked in response, confusion plain on his features.“Say what?”

“That you didn’t want anything to change in our friendship,” you replied, your heart suddenly heavy in your chest.“I thought you—” your voice trailed off, the words too shameful to say aloud.

Taehyun’s expression changed at that, softening into an understanding gaze.“Hey—” he began, his hands smoothing over your back.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, trying to push away from him. “I get it. I guess it was just me feeling this way this whole time.”

But Taehyun didn’t let you go. Instead, he pulled you back into his arms, holding you closer as if trying to keep you from running. “Hey,” he repeated, his lips brushing over your hair.“Look, y/n, I didn’t say that because I didn’t like the idea of being with you.”

You turned your head to him, your brow furrowed with doubt.“Then why did you?”

Taehyun sighed, his arms pulling you in tighter still. “Because I didn’t know how you felt at the time,” he replied.“And I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by forcing something you didn’t want.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing,

“And even if you did, I didn’t know if you’d want to stay like that in the future, or if...if it was just a one-time thing.” His voice was soft with his words, reassuring despite the uncertainty behind them.“But I’ve always liked you,” he continued.“I’ve always wanted to do this with you, if it was what you wanted.”

You were silent for a moment at that, your mind reeling with the words he’d just said. And then, finally, you smiled up at Taehyun, relief and happiness flooding your chest at the simple reassurance of his words.“I...” you began, the words threatening to spill from your lips.“I—” and then, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Oh my god, I can't believe I actually fucked my best friend,” you laughed out, your head falling on his chest.

Taehyun chuckled then, his whole body shaking with the movement.“Well, yeah,” he grinned, pulling you closer to his body. “You did.” He paused for a moment, his lips kissing over your forehead.

“We’ll deal with the consequences later. For now... let's stay Iike this for a little longer.” he trailed off, his hold on you only growing tighter.

“Okay,” you whispered, smiling to yourself as your words muffled against his chest. And as the warmth of Taehyun’s body wrapped around you, you couldn’t help but smile at the simple intimacy of the moment. It wasn’t just a game now. It was real. And despite all the unknowns that still lay ahead, there was one thing you were sure of: Taehyun would be there through it all. He would stay with you, no matter what. And that was enough to make you smile, enough to make your heart flutter with a newfound happiness.

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

taglist: @tyunzznluvr @interestellear-blog @hyunelixbun @dawngyu @tubasmiracle @no1likemybbgcharlie I hope y'all like this one too!! 🫶

[starrihan]

could you write jay and jungw sharing y/n🙏🏾

-> Pairing: Jay x afab! Reader x Jungwon

-> Plot: your need for a roommate leads you to meeting Jungwon who always brings his friend Jay around

-> Genre: smut, 3some, jay is kind of a sleeze, shy jungwon, squirting, use of nicknames (baby girl), oral (m receiving), fingering, nipple play, kissing, orgasm denial, piv sex, creampie (always use protection!!), drooling

-> Warnings: none

-> Word Count: 2,205

-> Notes: you guys deliver quick I’m so happy to write requests 🤩🤩🤩 disclaimer tho this is my first 3some fic so please bear with me. also since this is a very broad ask please let me know if anything in this fic bothered you or wasn’t what you were expecting, I’m simply writing based on what I was given~ (not proofread)

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okay so im imagining a roommate type situation.

like Jungwon is your roomate who has his friend Jay over a lot so you slowly start getting acquainted to him too. you had advertised needing a roommate to help pay for rent. you weren't expecting a response so quick but jungwon jumped at the oppertunity and you didn't mind as long as he was clean and not a freak (at least one of those things is true.)

so there is born a new friendship, and roommate-ship between you and jungwon. you guys would hang out sometimes, often eating dinner together and watching a movie since you both got home from work or school around the same time. you kept to yourself a lot, not that he minded since he did too. but one day he asked if it was okay for him to bring friends over, which you happily allowed. that was the day you met Jay and a couple of his other friends. while he hung out with all of them, he hung out with Jay the most.

usually when he had his friends over, you stayed in your room, not wanting to bother them. sometimes they'd bring food back for you to which you were very thankful and you would eat with them. then you'd retreat back to your room for the rest of the night. you didn't know that you had caught Jay's eye. one time after eating dinner with them, you went back to your room like normal, thanking them for the food.

"yo, you ever hit that?"

cue jungwon almost choking on his food.

"what??? thats my roommate Jay, no."

"what? she's hot. can I have her if you won't?"

"I guess? i don't think she wants you though. she would've mentioned to me if she did."

jungwon had never seen you in that way before, but after seeing how Jay was talking about getting with you, he'd start to notice you a bit more. how smooth your legs always looked. how full your chest looked in your shirt. how nice your thighs and ass looked in those leggings. how it was so hard for him to control his boner around you. he wanted to curse Jay for bringing your sexiness to his attention. he never acted on it though. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or worse, be kicked out of the apartment. that didn’t stop Jay from making comments about you to him every so often.

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there’s one weekend where Jungwon was going to go on a trip with his friends. they were only going to be a couple hours away and they even invited you out as well, but you declined, preferring a relaxing weekend alone instead. of course they respected your wishes and left soon after. a little bit into their drive away, Jay realizes that he has left his wallet in Jungwon’s room and needed to go back to get it. they all head back and wait in the car while Jungwon and Jay go back inside.

you, having been home alone for about 30 minutes by now, didn’t know that they would be coming back. you wasted no time taking off your pants, finally being able to touch yourself without needing to hold back your moans. naturally due to your little whines and grunts, you don’t hear the front door open.

your noises alert the two males, going to check on you to make sure you’re fine before finally heading out. since you were home alone you felt no need to close your bedroom door, which just so happened to be down the hall from Jungwon’s. one peek inside your room was all it took for them to realize what was going on, you frozen in place like a deer in headlights.

they look at each other, Jungwon holding a shocked expression while Jay’s is the opposite, a crooked smirk appearing on his face.

“my, my, look what we have here.”

shocked and embarrassed can’t even begin to describe your emotions right now. your whole face is flushed red, body limp yet frozen, too shocked to even try to cover yourself up.

“w-what are you guys doing here?”

finally coming to, you grab the blanket closest to you, throwing it over your lower half to cover yourself. Jay’s smirk doesn’t fade as he walks up to you.

“no need to cover yourself up darling, we’ve already seen the goods.”

you didn’t want to admit how extremely hot you found Jay. despite the embarrassment you were currently feeling, a new wave of need was hitting you with every step closer he took. he would trace his fingers over your arm, which was still under the blanket as you were using it to get off. he would look back over to Jungwon whose sporting a painfully obvious boner.

“look at Jungwon, he’s hard from just seeing you like this. maybe you could help us out?”

you look between the two men, confused and turned on beyond belief. Jay helps your nerves, beckoning Jungwon over before placing a hand under your chin, tilting your head to the side so he has better access to you neck. once you feel his lips on your neck, you throw your head back, gasps leaving you mouth the closer her gets to your sweet spot.

Jungwon is on the other side of you, nervous as he reaches his hands around your waist, feeling up your curves and chest. you relax into their touch, getting off on the attention they're giving you as your hand resumes its previous task, 2 fingers delving in and out of your hole.

"such a dirty girl, getting off to the two of us touching you"

Jay tsks, replacing your hand with his own, using two of his fingers to help you out. Jungwon, pent up already, pulls his pants down to reveal his raging boner, tip red and angry. you waste no time wrapping your wet fingers around his length, slowly pumping as he sighs out of relief. Jungwon entangles his hands in your hair, leaning down to capture your lips as Jay continues his movements, following your neck as you kiss Jungwon.

you moan as Jay hits a particular spot your short fingers normally have trouble reaching, gasping into Jungwon's mouth as you pump him faster. Jay's nibbling at your neck, increasing his speed as he feels your walls clench around his fingers. you can't help the gush of liquid that comes out of you, soaking the blanket and Jay's hand.

"fuck, you're so hot"

you pull away from Jungwon to kiss Jay, hand pumping faster on Jungwon as he bucks his hips into your hand, pinching and playing with your nipples under your shirt. your moans don't stop, and that keeps them both going as Jay whips the blanket off of you. both men climb into the bed with you. you pull away from Jay as Jungwon helps you take your shirt off, placing your hand back on his length as soon as you're free from the material. Jay takes his pants off in the meantime, watching your tits bounce freely out of the shirt.

"mind if I have her first Won? I've been waiting for this,"

you look up at him, eyes pleading with him to just be in you already. Jungwon nods his head at the older, biting back moans as he tries not to cum just yet. Jay repositions himself to be in between your legs, lifting one of them up onto his shoulder as he rubs his tip against your folds, lubing himself up with your slick.

"ready baby girl?"

you nod like a madman, ready to have him fully inside you. you turn your head to jungwon, seeing his eyes screw shut as he's on the brink of release, and you pull your hand away. the loud whine from his throat is proabably the hottest thing you've ever heard.

"mouth..."

is all you can muster before Jungwon gets the memo, kneeling before you, inching his cock into your open mouth as Jay finally pushes in. the simultaneous moans from the 3 of you are loud, echoing throughout the house. you're trying your best to suck him off at this angle, drool spilling past your lips and down your chin, making its way down the rest of his length. Jay's pounding into you, soft at first but gradually getting more rough as you adjust to his size. the added finger rubbing your clit has you bucking your hips into his thrusts, and your mouth taking Jungwon in deeper.

your orgasms are all quickly approaching, not really trying to hold back as the pleasure grows too much for the 3 of you. Jungwon cums first and harder than you had expected, having denied his orgasm once before. you almost choke trying to swallow his load, scooping up any of his cum that slipped past your lips back into your mouth, savoring every last drop.

you cum next, moaning loud as your hips push into Jay's thrusts, walls fluttering around his length, causing him to release inside of you. you struggle to catch your breath as Jungwon pulls you into another kiss, relaxing a bit as Jay helps you ride out your orgasm. they both pull away from your spent body, exchanging looks before switching spots.

"w-what are you guys doing?'

you're half delirious, confused as to whats going on.

"I had my turn, now it's Jungwon's turn to be in you."

he turns to Jungwon,

"she's so tight, its the best feeling ever."

Jungwon smirks, confidence coursing through his body as he sees how exhausted you look.

"I can't wait,"

he positions himself between your legs, already hard again at the thought of being in you finally. he winces as he brings his tip up to your wet slit that's leaking both yours and Jay's cum, still a little sensitive from his prior release.

"please, it's too much... s-sensitive..."

your broken words only fuel him more.

"you can take a little more for us can't you?"

Jay says, smiling up at Jungwon, who finally pushes himself into your walls. Jungwon runs his hands up and down your body, soothing you of your overstimulation, Jay reaching his hand down to toy with your clit yet again. you buck your hips into them, so fucked out that you fail to produce a moan, mouth hanging open. Jay looks at you, taking his finger that were previously on your clit and bringing them up to your mouth.

"suck."

he commands. your eyes are rolled back into your head as you close your mouth on his fingers, coating his fingers with your saliva as he brings his free hand down to pump his length. your orgasm is approaching quickly as Jungwon continues to bully your hole. he can tell by the way you're frantically bucking your hips to meet his thrusts, losing your pace as spill all over him.

Jay's hands are moving quick on himself, cumming all over your pelvis and stomach as he empties himself. Jungwon takes the chance to bring both of your legs over his shoulders, pounding relentlessly as he's on the verge of cumming. the pleasure is slowly being replaced by pain, the overstimulation becoming too much. Jay can see the way your face contorts, releasing his fingers from your mouth and placing soft kisses on your neck.

"just a little more baby, hang on a little longer."

you nod, too fucked out to properly comprehend what his words mean. its at that point when Jungwon's hips finally stall, ropes of cum painting your walls as he empties every last drop in you. he pulls out slowly, and you whine, half at the loss of feeling full and half out of relief. he watches as the cum from all 3 of you slowly spills out, taking his finger and pushing it back into you. you arch your back and moan and the boys look at each other, smiling and laughing at your spent state.

they both lay on either side of you, silent and breath ragged as you all try to calm down. the air is heavy with the smell of sex but comforting nonetheless. once you've come back to your senses, you look at the 2 boys, remembering the trip they were supposed to go on.

"what are you guys doing here? i thought you were supposed to be on your trip?"

they look at each other, first looking scared realizing that they left their friends waiting outside for them, but then laughing.

"Jay left his wallet here so we came back to get it. they probably drove off without us already because we were taking too long."

Jungwon shrugs, getting up to grab his phone to check the many messages from their group chat confirming exactly what he said.

"whatever. we can go on another trip whenever we want. but this is more fun, right Y/N?"

you look at Jay, laughing at his implications, not yet worrying about what all this between the 3 of you could mean. they both look at you, smiling fondly at your next words.

"round 2?"

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JayWon have been WRECKING me these days! this ask was just scrumptious 🤤

[iscdisc]

Anyone who's familiar with my content on Insta / TikTok most likely already knows about this theory (But I guess you could consider it an AU of sorts??) that I have with 2012 Donatello post, "The Power Inside Her" (And yes, the only reason why I drew this / am talking about this is because of my previous post about Za-Naron, okay- Lmao) ! But because I haven't brought this to Tumblr, I'm talking about it again- 👍✨

Before I get into it, I want to preface this whole thing by saying that I fully acknowledge that this all could just be writing issues / faults with the writers and their lack of properly explaining anything or giving prior context to certain relationships / dynamics. I just want to get that out of the way immediately, since I understand some people brushing these things off as one of 2012's many notorious writing issues-

BUT.

I wholeheartedly believe that it's entirely possible that the Donatello we follow after the events of, "The Power Inside Her" is not actually the real Donatello at all and the real Donatello that we have been following before this episode legitimately perished. And let me explain why I say this- 👀

First of all, I want to establish some foundation for this possibility by pointing us in the direction of the episode, "Bat in the Belfry". During this episode, Mikey (Alongside Casey-) end up giving Wingnut and Screwloose temporary sentient life (With this only being temporary given the events of the episode-). Wingnut and Screwloose are previously established in this episode to be comic book characters / fictional characters, they were never real to begin with. Yet despite the fact that they have no prior existence physically or in any capacity of reality, the Aeon's power (Za-Naron's power-) was able to fully give them life and an established sense of self. We see throughout the episode that Wingnut and Screwloose fully believe that they're alive and well, not understanding when Mikey and Casey constantly try to inform them that they are just comic book characters and aren't actually real the way that they perceive themselves to be real. We also see the Aeon crystal / Za-Naron give sentient life to one of the villains from the same comic (Which is why I included a picture of that as well-), and we too can see that this villain acknowledges its existence, since it carries out it's normal activities as if nothing is strange about its situation at all.

I'm laying this as the foundation for this theory, because my main point with bringing this up is that the "fake" (you could say) Donatello would have no reason to question his existence or believe that he is not who he is. You know what I mean?

Another reason why I believe "fake" Donnie wouldn't question his existence is because the Aeon Crystal doesn't exist anymore by the time he comes into the picture "once again", which is another point that I'm going to get into right now.

The only reason why Wingnut and Screwloose became aware of their predicament / fully accepted the fact that they weren't real is because they were exposed to the crystal and its seemingly overwhelming energy. As you can see in the picture I provided, they became very distorted and deranged after being exposed to this. But with this "fake" Donatello, there's nothing Aeon related for him to be exposed to.

During the last minutes of, "The Power Inside Her", we see April use what was left of the crystal (Since she had broken it prior as a means of freeing Za-Naron / freeing herself from Za-Naron's control-) to bring Donnie back into existence. But that's exactly why I have this theory?? Not only is bringing somebody back to life an almost impossible feat, even for April (Which I know the show says that Donnie was simply molecularly scattered and not actually GONE gone, but I don't buy that for a second / I feel like they only said that to make the situation a little more "kid friendly". in my opinion, that dude perished, okay. LMAO), but I don't even think that the Aeons abilities are even capable of something like that. Returning life or performing resurrection is such a complicated issue, and I feel like the Aeons themselves would acknowledge that it's not as simple as just "bringing somebody back".

So because I don't think this is something that falls under the scope of what Aeons are genuinely capable of doing, on top of the fact that we've seen the crystal give sentient life to things that technically did not exist before this episode, I fully believe that the Donnie that we see get "brought back to life" by April is not actually him- Instead, this is a physical manifestation of how April remembers him being or essentially a Donnie that was "created" from her memories of him / experiences with him.

Point number three as to why I think this is not the real Donnie and instead of "fake" Donnie. April's relationship with Donatello drastically changes after this episode (At least, in my opinion-). Going back to when she "brought Donnie back to life", I wouldn't be surprised if she was envisioning all of the more positive interactions that she's had with him in the past and a lot of the attributes that she enjoyed from him, rather than the negative ones (i.e. Him disrespecting her boundaries a lot, him disrespecting her autonomy as a person, him stalking her, him constantly getting in between her and other people /primarily Casey but I digress- /, him feeling entitled to her as a person, him giving her pet names that made her uncomfortable and she clearly expressed that / Which this is kind of a niche example, but during one of the Xbox / PS3 videogame titles for this series, there's a dialogue cutscene where Donnie calls her his, "Chinchilla" for the first time I think?? But April very clearly expressed discomfort with that and asked him not to say that about her. Which it really pisses me off that he does it again in Season 3 when she's UNCONSCIOUS, and this game came out either during Season 1 or when Season 2 was airing- Like it's an old game. 💀 /, etc.), especially given that what caused her to break free from Za-Naron's control was Raph telling April to remember Donnie. During that montage, there were a lot of happier moments with Donatello.

I don't think it would be far-fetched to say that she essentially created her "perfect" or ideal version of him as a person-?? And I feel like this is heavily reflected through their dynamic post this episode.

April's not off-putted by some of his kind / caring gestures (Like the image example I provided above, such as him putting his hand on her back-).

During moments of intense grieving and stress, Donatello is giving her space and not hovering around her like he was more prone to doing in the past (In my opinion-).

Instead of it feeling incredibly forced by the writers, April being in close proximity to Donnie feels like a choice she's actively making or okay with. Prior to this, (to me) it felt like the writers would just put April in the same space as Donnie simply because they were pushing this romantic narrative between them. The numerous times that Donnie would have April in his lab during Seasons 1-2 gave off a vibe like he either pressured her to be there or it just felt difficult for her to decline-? Especially since there was a lot going on with her Father during both of these Seasons, and instead of that feeling like a reason she would want to be there on her own, it felt like an excuse to force her to be there- Does that make sense? Not to mention Donnie always being by her side coming across like he was crowding April instead of her actively wanting him there.

Donnie is more actively giving April her space at the same time too / not reacting when Casey is in closer proximity to her than himself. I'm not saying that this technically didn't occur before the aftermath of, "The Power Inside Her", but it just feels different now- I don't know how else to explain that.

I'm telling you right now, this moment from, "When World's Collide (Part 1)" is the first time I've seen them on screen acting this way. There has never been a moment like this one before, where April is joking around and laughing with Donnie and just being overall silly?? 2012 has never done something like this with these two on screen.

All of these instances lead me to believe that April (unintentionally) created her most ideal version of Donatello as a person. Taking away all the things that she didn't like or (rightfully) felt uncomfortable by, and only leaving the characteristics that she did enjoy about him. Which would obviously result in her having a much healthier / drastically improved dynamic with him moving forward.

There's also was only one moment that I feel Donnie was "weird" towards April again like he was in the past, but it didn't last long at all and it only happened once during Season 5 ("The Curse of Savanti Romero"-).

Another thing that I feel supports this theory is his relationship with Casey. From Season 3 to 4, it really felt like Donnie and Casey were forming a much better dynamic / their friendship had a steady progression. Sure, Donnie would still get annoyed with Casey from time to time, but it felt obvious that he viewed Casey as more of a friend / ally than a rival / "threat". Casey would also actively go out of his way to be around Donnie physically more, which I feel was a good sign of their friendship moving in a more positive direction. But then we get to "Tokka vs. The World", which takes place almost immediately after the events of, "The Power Inside Her" and it suddenly feels like Donnie's friendship progression with Casey just vanishes-?? Their dynamic feels like they're back in Season 2 again, minus the constant arguing about April (At least, from Donnie's perspective-).

A lot of the moments that we get with them during Season 5 kind of reinforce this for me. Donnie's reaction to Casey suggesting they get their hands on a couple of tanks during, "Scroll of the Demodragon", Donnie and Casey essentially arguing about how to deal with Kavaxas during, "The Forgotten Swordsman", Donnie's response to Casey in regards to his ghostbuster rip off inventions and how Donnie went out of his way to say everyone will get one except Casey during, "End Times"- Like, it really does feel as if their relationship regressed after the events of, "The Power Inside Her"- And while that does upset me, since as you all probably know by now I love those two to death, it does make complete sense in relation to this theory of this Donatello being "fake".

All of the progress and dynamic / friendship development Donnie and Casey went through? April was not privy to that. Like, at all. If my theory holds up and April did (unintentionally) "create" or manifest a version of Donatello from her memories of him using the remaining power of the Aeon crystal, then it would absolutely make sense why Donnie is treating Casey the way that he is during Season 5. I'm not saying that April didn't notice or acknowledge that they had a better relationship before the events of, "The Power Inside Her" happened, but she didn't know where that better relationship came from. So if April doesn't know, then obviously the Donnie that she (unintentionally) "created" wouldn't know either- Therefore, there wouldn't be a reason for him to have a better relationship with Casey / there would be no reason why he wouldn't continue viewing him in a similar way to how he did during Season 2. AKA, when he first met him / when Casey first came into their lives.

There are other parts of this theory that are definitely more speculative on my part, such as Donnie not having any memories of events that April wasn't there for- So for example, if the brothers are reminiscing about the Mousers predicament from Season 1, the "fake" Donnie would be confused and not know what they're talking about because April wasn't aware of that situation / probably only heard it through word of mouth if anything- Clearly nothing like this happened in late Season 4 to early Season 5 to support that kind of thing, but there also isn't any evidence to disprove it either. I just think it would be interesting for that to be one of the biggest tells as far as everyone else having their doubts about whether or not the Donatello they see before them is actually the legitimate one-!

This theory also makes me really sad as far as Casey and Donnie goes, because it really does feel like Donnie had to sacrifice one developing friendship for another. Like sure, his dynamic with Casey is all fucked up. but at least he has a better one with April now- 💀 Lmao || There could totally be some holes in this theory, I'm not going to deny that ! But so far, I think it kind of holds up and I just thought I'd share that today- 👍✨ Lmao

(There were so many more screenshot examples that I wanted to give, but I didn't know you can only include 10 pictures in a post- 😭)

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: "Quality" Time

Jerk Ford returns home slightly earlier than in canon, sometime between the episodes "The Love God" and "Northwest Mansion Mystery".

Compared to Canon Ford, despite being rude and unpleasant to everybody, Jerk Ford spends much more time with the family! And also his former lab assistant; Retired Tech Billionaire, Old Man McGucket. This is because he and Stan are not fighting, so Stan doesn't try to keep Ford away from everybody. He encourages it, actually.

Results may vary.

Jerk Ford with Stanley:

*exactly 10 minutes after Jerk Ford dispatches the gov't agents*

"Stanley, I'm so glad to finally be home. You wouldn't believe how much I missed you. I knew I'd come back eventually, but I'm sorry it took so long and you had to save me from my mistakes again. I can't wait for us to move on with the rest of our lives."

"Me too, bro. Now-" *hands him a pamphlet*

"What's this?"

"A catalogue of therapists. Pick one."

"...Wha-."

"If you don't pick a therapist in the next five minutes I am going to drag you by the hair to the nearest shrinks office you emotionally constipated, underfed f**k."

Jerk Ford with his Niblings:

Wendy: I've been having these nightmares about Northwest Manor...

Soos: No sweat, dude. We can go there, and see that whatever you're scared of is just a part of your imagination.

Jerk Ford: You're going to need my help. I'm going with you.

Soos: Hold your horses, dawg. No one asked for more help. This whole trip might just prove the girl-dude shouldn't be sleeping with her nightlight off.

Jerk Ford: Lava lamp.

Wendy: How did you...? What, did you break into my house?

Jerk Ford: *scoffs* Please.

Jerk Ford:

Jerk Ford: I break into everyones house.

Jerk Ford with his Grand-Niblings:

Dipper: I will send you STRAIGHT TO HADES, where you belong!

Jerk Ford: I'll see you there, pipsqueak. Well, I'll try to; I'd need a magifiying glass.

Dipper: Why you-

Mabel: Why can't we ever play a normal game of Go Fish?

Jerk Ford with Retired Tech Billionaire Old Man McGucket:

Fiddleford: It's an entire dimension of sentient robots?

Jerk Ford: Mhmm.

Fiddleford: And they have the ability to take the form of normal Earth vehicles should they choose?

Jerk Ford: Yes.

Fiddleford: And there's been a civil war raging between two factions of them for a thousand years?

Jerk Ford: What about it?

Fiddleford:

Fiddleford: Ford, you're talking about The Transformers.

Jerk Ford: The what?

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 24

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n hi. it's me. i'm back. i don't have any excuses to make.

please also check out daybreak, posting weekly from now on (yes i did write an entire smau instead of queenmaker and sit on it for almost six months)

previous | masterlist | next

---

Comeback approaches like a hurricane; it's there, developing in the corner of your eye just off the coast of your island, and then all at once it is here, and it is so all-encompassing that you're not even sure where here is anymore.

Comeback. Debut. The most important day of your life. One of those.

 Time starts to fly by; schedules and practice and filming and every so often the chance to sleep or to grab something to eat with the others. It drags at your coattails, sticks itself to your feet and settles like a weight upon your shoulders, but you can't stop. There are performances to film, and then there is a concert that you are missing so much of the choreography for, and even when all of that is over, you are headfirst into award season and special performances and group activities for the company and-

First, debut. Second, everything else.

The camera sits on the table in front of you, staring with one dark, unblinking eye as a brush darts across your face, erasing all your imperfections. It fills your stomach with a funny kind of fear, small but poisonous, stinging when you think about turning it on - you've managed to put it off so far, waiting until your face was made up to at least avoid having to see your own naked skin reflected back at you in the viewfinder. No one else wanted to see that either, you're sure, after the things you've read and...well, the experiences you've had in the past. It's good to know your limits, after all.

That excuse is fast running out now though, and the time to go up towards the stage is drawing closer with alarming speed, and if you don't capture any footage before that happens, you're in some real trouble, no matter how loudly Seungmin and Felix are churning out hours worth of content on the other side of the room.

It takes real, deliberate effort to lean forward and turn that camera on once the makeup artist proclaims you ready, your hands delaying still as they fiddle with the angle and the focus, following the motions the manager that had handed it to you had shown you before he left. It gives you a little red light to say it is filming, and you swallow down the stone in your throat and sit up straight, looking around at the room to avoid the stare of its lense.

The first minute of your vlog is very boring. It's probably only the thought of some stranger sitting in a room later and watching you sit there awkwardly for a ridiculous amount of time that spurs you into saying anything at all. 

"Hello Stay," you begin, because it seems the only way to begin. The words feel awkward in your mouth, your tongue stiff and undeserving of saying them, and your throat scratches and dries; you think, as you speak, that you do not sound like a singer at all. "It's nice to meet you...for the second time." 

A noise rises up from behind you, giving you pause just as you run out of things to say - Han, running his voice up and down the scales as he begins to warm up. You've gotten used to that by now, the volume of the boys around you, but you're grateful for the excuse to pause in your self-rumination anyway, the precious seconds it gives you to figure out what it is you're saying.

Act normal, you tell yourself firmly as you turn back to the camera.

"I guess I should introduce myself, shouldn't I?" you say, your fingers twisting in your lap. "I'm L/N Y/N from Stray Kids, and today we're at [] for our first performance of Back Door, and I have just finished with the makeup..."

In the corner of the viewfinder, you notice a face hovering over your shoulder; Jeongin, waving a peace sign just out of your field of vision. You turn to look at him, shuffling over so that he is in full view for the camera. "What are you doing?" you ask and he leans in closer, automatically fixing the angle for the camera.

"I just wanted to see what you were doing," he says, refreshingly peaceful compared to the chaos that is building in the rest of the room. "Is this a vlog?"

"Mhm," you answer, and he smiles and waves again to the camera. "Are you dressed already?"

"Nearly," he says, glancing down at his white shirt and the black necklace that dangles around his neck. "You have time still."

You glance down at yourself; hoodie and cargo pants, neat but not show-ready by any means. "Mine is cold," you say by way of explanation, thinking of the skirt and thin shirt that wait on a rack in the next room, a far cry from the long pants the eight of them are wearing; and you really do like the look you've been given, but the thought of sitting around cold before you had to was less than enticing. "I was going to go and change in a minute."

"Maybe you should swap with someone," I.N suggests slyly. "I bet Changbin would look good in a skirt."

"Changbin's pants wouldn't fit me," you throw back, and he has to turn away from the camera to hide the ugly laugh that snorts from his nose. "He's too-"

Short, you don't say, your eyes tracking the boy in question as he passes by. He pauses in the back of your video when he notices your eyes on him, looks between you suspiciously, and then dances his way out of frame, having decided, you guess, that you aren't up to anything worthy of comment.

The look you share with I.N almost makes you laugh again. "I'm going," you say, scooping up your camera as you stand, "before he realises we're talking about him."

---

"Why do you look nervous?" Chan asks, a shadow that suddenly stands beside you as someone clips a mic pack onto his belt. You eye him in disbelief to avoid turning to look at the hallway that leads to the stage again, trying to figure out if he's joking or not.

"I can be nervous if I want to," you answer after a few seconds, in a way that definitely doesn't hide how anxious you feel at all. 

"But you shouldn't be," he insists, "because there's nothing to be nervous about."

"You know that won't stop me," you scoff.

He cracks a smile despite himself. He almost laughs, except that he's busy turning to nod in acknowledgement of whatever the assistant behind him says on her way past. "It's going to be a good performance," he says, like the simple act of saying it is enough to manifest it into existance, like he would never believe otherwise.

"It's going to be good," you agree readily. "The concerts next week are going to be good too."

That smile flashes across his face again, his eyes lighting up. "You're excited?" he asks - and you almost feel guilty, that he would think that you wouldn't be excited, that you've worked so hard and put on such a stoic face that any of them might start to think this is a chore for you, rather than a dream coming true in front of your eyes.

"Of course I'm excited," you tell him emphatically, before he can get any ideas. "I can't wait to-"

"Y/N noona!" Changbin says as he strides across the room, stopping the thought halfway through. You turn to face him and the phone he waggles in his hand questioningly. "Take a photo with me."

"Right now?" you ask, looping your in-ears over your shoulders as if to demonstrate just how poor his timing is.

Changbin doesn't notice at all. "Why not now?" he questions. "I'm supposed to take a photo for instagram. Come and take one with me."

Beside you, Chan looks like he still has something to say, but when you glance at him, he only shrugs, turning away to fiddle with his own equipment. "Alright," you agree easily and follow Changbin, over to a bland enough piece of wall with decent lighting. You have a feeling someone has already scouted the room earlier for the best places to take photos, judging by how easy it is to find and how well it photographs.

It's a good distraction from the nerves for a few minutes, but it doesn't last much longer than that; especially not when Changbin barks and fusses over the angle and the faces, and then Hyunjin comes wandering over to take the camera out of his hand, and you realise that he's occupying you as much as doing what Skijigi have asked him to do. After that, you laugh and poke fun back at him with just the same vivacity, but it does nothing to assauge the anxiety that's planted deep in your gut, roots curling out to envelop you.

Somehow, when you're done, it is time to go up to the stage - and suddenly, you are engulfed within the group and walking that hallway you had been staring at what feels like moments ago, trying to swallow with a dry mouth and a stone in your throat and wondering if you'll actually be able to get any of the notes out at all.

Chan's hand touches your shoulder as you walk, appearing by your side in just the same way as he had earlier. You wonder if he can smell fear or something; or if you really are just that pale and drawn in the face, if your hands are shaking or something. Whatever it is, you're clearly not doing a very good job of hiding it. 

"You still look nervous," he tells you cheerily, and if he's aware that he's reading your thoughts, he doesn't give any indication of it, not even as he pulls you aside as you reach side-stage and glances up at the huddle of boys that continue to the bottom of the stairs, eyeing them as if there's something he doesn't want them to hear.

"I got you something," he says, when he's sure there are no eavesdroppers, and lets his lips curve in a secretive, delighted smile.

Your eyebrow raises in surprise, almost certain that he did not forget, but rather has been looking for the right time to bring it up - but he doesn't notice the look of disbelief, fishing a small, velvet bag out of his pocket. He offers it to you on an outstretched palm, a bridge to form the gap between you.

With timid, shaking fingers you take it, noting the pink that stains his cheeks and the way he cringes away from meeting your eye as you pull the drawstrings loose. "I saw you playing with the ones at K-Con," he hurries to explain before you can even see what's inside. "And you - fidget a lot. I thought it might help."

A ring tumbles out of the bag and into your palm, the full stop to the end of his sentence. It's only a plain silver band, softly curved at the edges and gleaming where the light hits it - nothing ostentatious or gaudy. Just a simple band for you to twist around your finger, the letters SKZ engraved on its inner circle.

"Thankyou," you manage to say as you slip it onto your finger - and then fiddle with it, twisting it and forth to distract yourself from the nervous hum that seems to hang in the air between you.

"Oh, no." He waves you away before you can even get the words out, that pink flushing his face. "Look, it works already." 

You glance down at your fingers and the twist of the ring, and feel the grin that bites at your face. "I like it," you admit, and try to breathe the nervous jitters out of your chest with the words. 

He looks...relieved? You're not sure, when the music blasts on stage and then cuts off and the crowd roars in response, cutting him off before he can say whatever it is that now lines the back of his teeth. It looks like relief on his face though; as if he'd been worried you wouldn't take the gift or something. Wouldn't see the sentiment behind it even if you didn't like it. What does he think of you, if that's how he thinks you might react?

The thought sends another thrill of fear down your spine, one that the scrape of that ring on your finger can't quiet. So does the scream of that crowd - adrenaline rises from your chest, wrapping its hands around your throat; that wild, senseless energy tensing in your body like you're about to run from a fight-

A hand claps your shoulder. "Are you breathing?" Seungmin asks, balancing on one foot as he leans around you to frown at your face.

You have to inhale to retort, and he smirks. "That's what I was wondering," Chan says behind that grin - but the brush of his hand over the back of yours is much softer; questioning, rather than the jolt of contact from Seungmin.

"I don't need to breathe," you throw at them weakly. "I'm a robot."

"How do I turn you off, then?" Chan asks, and then laughs when you stare at him, surprised. Betrayed, maybe, when you would have expected such a thing to come out of Seungmin's mouth rather than his.

You're distracted by the call of a staff member, waiting to usher you onto the stage - and there, again, are your nerves, returned in two-fold. Debut, you remember again for the thousandth time today. Your dream. Your reward. Your life's work, the only work you've ever learnt how to do.

The group huddle together, say some quick words of encouragement that float past you with registering at all. Your hand is warm in the centre of all of theirs, crushed by the weight of someone's palm as eight hands go down and whoever is on the bottom goes up, ruining the whole thing. You know that you laugh, between the groans and cries of retribution, but it doesn't reach right into your chest. All your attention is laser-focused on the steps before you and the buzz of the crowd waiting beyond.

You are not alone in your daze, at least. Many hands pat your shoulders, smooth your hair. Felix throws an arm around you until you reach the stairs, a one-armed hug while he talks about something in your ear. He lets you go while you climb, and follows on your heels out onto the stage.

The crowd is smaller than K-Con, to your mercy, even if they scream and cheer just as loud as that massive crowd had. It seems like a stupid thing to find comfort in a moment later, when the thought hits you again; of course the crowd is smaller. This is only a broadcast recording, not the concerts that leer at your from the near future.

Some of the boys are already at the centre of the stage, waving and talking to fans. You join them long enough for the official greeting - and then melt away into the background when Changbin immediately commands attention. You find Han there with you, arms swinging by his sides in one last warmup, but you can't think of anything to say other than the tight grin that offers itself to him, no doubt writing all you nerves right onto your face. The smile he gives you in return is sympathetic, and devoid of pretty words to go with it; just a flash of teeth, a puff of air that blows into his cheeks before exhaling. It's a little comfort, at least.

The call to begin shatters any calm it pulls over you just as quickly as it arrives though, the stage a hive of activity as everyone finds their places. For a long moment, no one moves and nothing plays, the tense, still seconds ticking by at an excruciating pace-

And then the music starts.

And then you dance.

And then you sing, loud and clear and bright - and steady, even with the complex movement of your body and the increasing cry of your chest for air. 

The finale rises and culminates with Felix's voice, standing at the end of the line behind you. You feel his weight bump against you as he shifts on his feet, hear the moment of silence and then the renewed cheer of the crowd when his ending fairy comes up on the screens. You can't see when it ends, so you count to five before you turn, ducking out of the line as requested and immediately finding the red light of the camera that was told to be waiting for you. Finger hearts, Felix had suggested backstage and Hyunjin had agreed, and so that is what you give them, angled just so by your cheek and the giddy smile that had been pulling on your lips before the music was even finished.

The stage goes silent, the few scattered beginnings of applause quickly throttled by the hands that remain in their laps. The seconds tick by at a glacial pace, the smile threatening to slip from your face. You glue it there with all the fire that remains in your veins.

You could swear the camera lingers, just to drink in your pain. Logically, you know it is the same time as Felix had. Somehow, the thought isn't comforting.

Finally, that lense clicks off and the boys move around you, giving the crowd something else to hawk and squeal at. Something they really want to see, you allow yourself to think acerbically, and carefully avoid looking any of them in the eye as you do your forced, casual wander off the stage. It is hard enough to achieve in your own bubble, to resist that urge to run, let alone if you catch anything like sympathy on their faces.

The first one below, you take one look at the playback monitor and excuse yourself to the staff, fleeing towards the bathrooms. You're dimly aware of footsteps behind you and the sound of your name, but they do not process and your feet won't stop - not until the heavy door slams shut behind you and the propel of your walk carries you in sight of the mirror over the sinks-

Beautiful, you'd dared to think earlier, staring vindictively at just the same image that looks back at you now. The careful fit of the navy shirt, the short skirt flattering the length and lines of your legs, the layered bangles and the diamonds that glitter around your neck...perfectly crafted to slip right in amongst the silk and patterns of the boys - and not unlike Midnight's dark queen concept either, the concept you hadn't had the right look for. You'd even liked your face, and the unearthly glow they'd painted into your cheeks, the perfect frame of your dark hair-

But something had displeased that crowd. Whether the look, or the dancing, or stupid, stubborn pettiness over girlish crushes - or all of it put together. It took a lot to silence an entire crowd. You knew that - you'd seen one refuse to be silenced before, but never nominally refuse to cheer. Never pass the sentiment around and come to an absolute mutual agreement.

It's a talent, to be able to do that by yourself, you think as you stare into your own eyes in the mirror; and you don't have it in you to deny the rush of feelings that wells in your chest this time, or the hot prick of tears in your eyes. Your thoughts are swept off in the storm, the questions clamouring, crying, begging for one answer; why, why, why, why. Why do they hate you, why are they so mean about it, why didn't you just go home? Why did you ever come to this country in the first place? Why id you think you were good enough to be worth their love?

A soft knock on the door precedes the tentative entry of an assistant; one of the girls from JYP that always travels with you on schedules. You know her name, but you should know her better; instead, you've just been keeping to yourself. Another point of failure, probably.

"Y/N?" she says, daring to put one foot through the door as you blink and nod in acknowledgement. "Sorry - we need to start heading back now. You can have another moment - if you need-"

"I'm coming," you hurry to say; and it is shame that colours your cheeks and gives you the strength again to swallow it down like a hard stone. The tears burn as you blink them away, as you stare at the mirror and decide that no more will fall except for the traitorous three that have already escaped. You'll have to go back on that stage - you won't go red-eyed and puffy, won't give them that satisfaction.

You'll have to do that ending again too, though. Weather that storm a second time. Well, you'll just have to make sure this take is perfect, and then no one will ask for a third. You'll be able to go home and hide.

Your moment is up. You know that, and so you turn yourself away from the mirror, to the girl that waits. She willingly averts her eyes as she steps out, holding the door for you until you grip the edge of it with your own hand and follow her.

Chan is waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall and staring at nothing as he waits. There's a dark anger in his eyes when he turns, but it isn't for you - no, the tissue box in his hand is for you, offered like a bridge that spans the gap between you. 

Warily, you draw one and turn aside to dab at your eyes and try to cool the burn in your cheeks. You want to cringe away from yourself and hide in the bathroom again, to put off facing him until he goes away - but if you do that, he'll know you're hiding, and the hovering assistant will bear the blame of not bringing you back, and those fans will think they know why it's taking so long-

Stupid. They already know that they've won. Chan can see you crying. There's no one left to make a fool of except yourself.

"Are you alright?" Chan asks - and just like you thought, there is none of that anger in the gentle voice that asks.

"It's fine," you answer, biting at your tongue agains the tears that threaten to stir anew. "Sorry. I just needed - a moment. I'm ready to go again."

"Take another moment," he tells you.

"I'd rather go," you say, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to - but it is only the tears that you are fighting, that horrible, gut-wrenching wave of emotion that wants to wash over you. "I'm fine. Really."

The tissue crushes in your palm. You wonder if the sceptical look he gives you is because of the makeup you've surely smudged, or if he just doesn't believe you. "Are you sure?" he asks, and you steel yourself as you breathe in.

"I will be if we don't talk about it," you tell him tightly, and then you take the lead before he can disagree. He falls into step willingly anyway, thoughtful or maybe brooding as you weave your way back to the stage.

"We're not doing the endings again," he tells you as you approach, right as the flock of makeup artists engulf you. Like they knew you'd be crying, you think acerbically, and then banish the thought before it can unbalance you again.

"Were there any notes for me?" you ask as a brush dusts your cheek. The dancing; that's the only thing you need to focus on. The performance. Do it perfectly, and you can escape. Subconsciously, you fingers find the ring, twisting it around and around.

"Not for you," Chan says. "Just try to enjoy it again, yeah?"

Several choice comments come to mind as you gaze at him, each one as dry and hurt as the last, but a look at the occupants of the room stills your tongue. Assistants and stylists and employees of the show - people that you shouldn't be caught speaking ill of fans or members in front of. You've read your contracts and the company ethics, seen the bill for your training attached to your name. You know how far fans and a good public image takes even the most insidious people.

"I'll try," you promise instead, firmly holding your tongue to your principals. No point complaining about hardships anyway. This isn't an industry that takes pity on those who are too weak to survive it.

Even so, the answer seems vapid and contrived the moment it spills out of your mouth. Chan doesn't have time to contest it; the others are already returning to the stage to entertain that undeserving crowd, and so you must follow too, side by side in silence. His microphone passes restlessly from hand to hand, even when you step on stage and his brow smoothes out. You wonder how long that rage will simmer beneath his skin.

Until he can do something about it, a little voice whispers to you with a thrill, watching his receding back.

The stage sweeps you away after that, Chan disappearing into the midst of the others with just one last glance over his shoulder to make sure that you're following. Seungmin replaces him, appearing unobtrusively in your shadow as Felix slings an arm back around your shoulders and bats his hand away from messing with your hair. They flank you until you drift into your position, and then the stage goes quiet so that the music can start again. 

The dance flies by; chorus, verse, bridge, dance break. The fans cheer and chant along as dutifully as they had the first time, but the sound resonates hollow in your chest this time, the faces that you give the camera manufactured rather than brought on by the music. It's hard to forget, now that you know the truth, that those cheers aren't for you; only the boys that surround you, their bodies moving in unison with yours. Part of them, and yet set apart. 

You'd come six years ago expecting to be the jewel in that kind of crown, you think. This crowd has made you the flaw, ugly and unmistakably out of place.

It's a relief when the song ends and you can let go, your shoulders slumping and your chin dropping to your chest as you stare at the floor and try to breathe. A hundred emotions sweep by you, there and then swallowed again by the storm that churns in your stomach; you flinch away from the crowd's laughter at something Han does, and then laugh when Changbin's face appears upside-down in your field of vision, his body contorted strangely in an effort to meet your eyes. There's still something hiding in Chan's eyes and Felix is openly angry, but Minho gives nothing away in the nod he gives you as he passes by. Changbin talks about what to get for dinner on the way back down the stairs, but the words just wash over you; you're not hungry anyway, after all of this, just hollow and restless and tired.

Your third filming trudges by much the same, correcting a small mistake by Han in the pursuit of perfection. The boy looks apologetic as he passes you by, but it's not him or the dancing that you resent. It's just a thing you have to do, until all nine of you are pleased, until you can finally leave that stage and draw the hoodie you'd worn here on a very different kind of morning back over your head and climb into a car to go home.

You don't win any awards. The boys hide their disappointment, but you know it is there. You know, too, where the fan vote went and why that trophy was stolen away from them. 

You're not really sure what anyone expects you to do about it.

---

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

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@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

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@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

[nameless-jamie]

✨💖 The vibes of your writing are immaculate. And I love your series and the new chapters. Would you ever write about an anxious/ shy reader?

Blush

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! shy receptionist reader

TW: cursing, kissing

A/N: Are you ready for a looooong one? Thank you for the request! I had a whole field-day writing this because I myself am pretty shy in real life. That's why it is veeery long. I actually also had another few paragraphs of the morning after their date, but I edited it out because I guess it would've been too long.

The AFC Richmond front desk was Y/N’s safe space. She had a whole routine. Come in early, set up at the front desk, answer calls, and avoid unnecessary conversations. She liked her job as a receptionist—AFC Richmond had always felt like a family, even if she sometimes felt like the quiet cousin at the reunion. She had her friends, though: Will, the ever-cheerful kit man, Roy Kent, who, for some reason, had taken a liking to her despite his usual grumpy demeanor and of course Keeley!

Most people in the club were kind enough to respect that she wasn’t the most talkative person, even though it is literally her job to greet people.

Jamie Tartt was not most people.

Jamie was… different. Not in the way Roy was—gruff but secretly soft. Not in the way Ted Lasso was—easygoing and goofy. Jamie was loud, confident, and impossible to ignore. And worst of all, he had somehow decided she was his new favorite person to talk to.

“Alright, love?”

She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. That familiar, cocky voice sent a nervous jolt straight through her. Slowly, she lifted her head, only to find Jamie leaning against her desk, arms crossed, signature smirk in place. It was too early in the morning for that level of handsomeness. Yup, Y/N had a crush on Jamie since she started working here. But, oh no, she would never make a move or even show it.

He grinned. “Hi, Jamie,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “C’mon, you gotta give me more than that. Thought we were mates by now.”

Mates. Right. Because that was a normal way to describe their dynamic—Jamie showing up at her desk every day, teasing her until she was a flustered mess, then walking away like it was just another training session.

Y/N cleared her throat, fingers tightening on her pen. “Do you… need something?”

Jamie tilted his head. “Nah. Just here to check in on my favorite receptionist.”

She bit her lip. “I’m the only receptionist.”

“That’s what makes it so easy.” He winked. “Just wanted to see you.”

God, he was relentless. And it wasn’t just the flirting—it was how easy he made it look, how effortlessly charming he was. Her face went hot instantly, and she ducked her head, pretending to be very interested in the email she had already finished.

Every time he saw her, he had some new way to fluster her, whether it was winking at her from across the hallway, complimenting her dress, or just plain staring at her until she got nervous.

It wasn’t fair. He was a world-class footballer, and she was… well, the receptionist.

Before she could figure out how to respond, Will the kitman appeared, grinning. “Oh, is this the daily ‘Jamie makes Y/N blush’ session? Should I be taking bets?”

“Shut up, Will,” she mumbled, burying her face in her hands.

Jamie, completely unfazed, smirked. “You should. I’d win every time.”

Roy walked by just then, glancing at the scene before stopping. He squinted at Jamie, then looked at Y/N, who was still avoiding eye contact.

“What the fuck is goin’ on here? Is the prick bothering you?”

“Actually...Jamie’s bullying me,” Y/N blurted out and pointed at the latter, because she found it funny how Jamie shrunk in Roy's presence. She can be a tease if she wants to.

Jamie clutched his chest like he's been shot. “Bullying? Me? Love, I’m flirting. If I was bullying ya, you’d be crying.”

“I don't like any of you, but you,” Roy jabbed a finger at Jamie. “Quit makin’ her uncomfortable, Tartt.”

Jamie held up his hands in mock surrender. “She’s not uncomfortable. Are ya, love?”

Y/N hated that the question made her heart race. He was looking at her like she was the only person in the room, like her answer actually mattered.

“No! I mean—well—I—I mean, it’s fine,” she mumbled.

Jamie grinned like she had just told him she loved him. “See? She likes me.” Roy groaned.

Roy let out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re both fuckin’ idiots.” Then he jabbed a finger at Jamie. “Quit pissin’ her off.”

“Never,” Jamie shot back cheerfully.

Roy muttered something under his breath and stomped off.

Will snickered. “Roy’s gonna end up chaperoning your first date at this rate.”

Y/N let out a strangled noise. “There is no first date!”

Jamie, though, just smirked. “Not yet.” Then he winked and strolled off, leaving her an absolute, blushing mess at the front desk.

The next few days were worse.

Ever since Jamie’s little not yet comment, Y/N had been on high alert. She tried to convince herself that he was just joking, just messing with her like he always did. But then he started upping his game.

It wasn’t enough that he stopped by her desk every morning—no, now he had to wink at her across the hallway, greet her with a Good mornin’, love like he was starring in some kind of rom-com, and worst of all, he started waiting for her after work.

The first time it happened, she thought it was a coincidence.

“Oi, you’re taking really long,” Jamie said, leaning against the front doors of the clubhouse, arms crossed as she finally stepped outside.

She blinked. “What… are you doing here?”

“Waitin’ for ya, obviously,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “S’not safe for a pretty little thing like you to walk alone.”

Y/N nearly tripped over her own feet. “I—I always walk alone.”

Jamie frowned like this was a deeply troubling fact. “Well, that’s fuckin’ tragic, innit?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Colin and Isaac, who where the last to leave besides the locker room, grinned. “Ooooh, bodyguard Jamie.”

Jamie smirked. “Damn right.”

“You’re not my bodyguard. He's really not.” Y/N muttered in her soft voice, slinging her bag around her shoulder.

Jamie only grinned wider. “Nah, but I could be.”

Colin gave her a pointed look. “You should just let him walk you home. You know he’s not gonna give up.”

Y/N sighed. They were both right—Jamie Tartt was nothing if not persistent.

So, against her better judgment, she let Jamie walk her home.

And then he did it again. And again.

And again.

By the end of the week, it was just a part of her routine, like he had wormed his way in without her even realizing. He’d meet her at the doors, hands in his pockets, waiting for her like he had all the time in the world. They’d talk, mostly about silly things—Jamie complaining about Roy, Y/N teasing him about his shoe obsession, Jamie trying to make her laugh.

And she did laugh. More than she had in a long time.

Which was exactly why it was terrifying.

Because Jamie Tartt was flirty, and charming, and kind, and so out of her league that it was almost funny.

And yet…

She caught him looking at her sometimes. Not in the way most guys did, not like she was just another girl to conquer. It was softer, something she couldn’t quite place. Like he actually liked being around her.

Which was ridiculous. Right?

She was still trying to make sense of it all when, one afternoon, the teasing from the team finally reached its peak.

She was organizing paperwork at her desk when Dani Rojas, Sam Obisanya, and Colin strolled past.

“Sooo, Jamie and the receptionist,” Dani said in a sing-song voice.

Y/N froze. Oh no.

Colin grinned. “Yup, they’d be cute together.”

“I think they are already together,” Sam added thoughtfully.

Y/N choked on absolutely nothing. “Uhm- No actually we are not together.”

Dani gasped. “But he walks you home every night!”

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

Sam and Colin exchanged a knowing look.

“But you like him,” Colin said, pointing at her.

“No, I don’t.”

“You do,” Sam said. “And he definitely likes you.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but then—

“I definitely like who?”

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

The universe hated her. That was the only explanation for why Jamie Tartt had appeared at the exact worst moment, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Dani beamed. “We were just talking about how you and Y/N like each other.”

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Jamie, to his credit, didn’t even blink. He just turned to her, a slow, smug grin spreading across his face.

“I mean, I do.” he said, then turned to her. “That true, love, you like me?”

Y/N clenched her jaw, face burning. “I don't like any of you.” She mumbled.

Colin grinned. “That’s not a no.”

Jamie chuckled, eyes locked on her. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll admit it eventually.”

And then, just like always, he winked and walked off, leaving her to suffer.

Dani patted her shoulder sympathetically and ran out the door. “You should just date him.”

“I should just quit,” she muttered to herself.

But we all know she wouldn’t.

And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t really want to.

Y/N had two choices this next week:

Continue pretending that Jamie Tartt wasn’t blatantly flirting with her every single day.

Accept that she was completely, undeniably screwed.

She tried to go with Option 1. She really did. But then Jamie started making it impossible.

It wasn’t just the daily morning greetings anymore. Now, he even brought her coffee.

“Dunno what ya drink, so I got three different kinds”

He sat across from her at lunch even when she definitely did not invite him, and—worst of all—kept finding excuses to touch her.

A light hand on her shoulder when he walked past. A nudge of his knee against hers when they sat near each other. Once, when she had been carrying a heavy box of paperwork, he had taken it right out of her hands, smirking at her grumbled protests.

It was driving her insane.

She was still overthinking all of it when she got to work one morning and found Jamie already there, leaning against her desk like he had nothing better to do.

She frowned. “Why are you here before me?”

Jamie grinned. “Missed ya, didn’t I?”

Her brain short-circuited. “You—what?”

Jamie just shrugged like he hadn’t just sent her into cardiac arrest.

“I have missed you, did I not." he repeated himself doing his best to talk accent-free, as if she didn't understand him the first time.

"Also, I might’ve left my headphones in the gym. But mostly the first thing.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “You… are insufferable.”

“Yeah, but I assume you love it.”

She did not. Except—okay, maybe she didn’t hate it. And maybe, just maybe, she had started to enjoy their little routine. Fuck, she loved it.

Which was exactly why it was so unfair that Roy Kent had to go and ruin everything.

Because of course, right as Jamie was giving her one of those stupid flirty smirks, Roy appeared out of nowhere like a grumpy, swearing bat signal.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Y/N groaned. “Roy, Hi! Jamie was just—”

“No,” Roy cut her off, pointing aggressively between her and Jamie. “I cannot watch this anymore.”

Jamie blinked. “Watch what?”

Roy let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “This. The fuckin’ pining. The flirting. The lookin’ at each other like a couple of lovesick puppies.”

Y/N’s soul left her body. “We do not do that.”

“You absolutely do,” Roy grumbled pointing at Y/N. “ You're doin' it right fucking now! It’s disgustin’.”

Jamie, to his credit, didn’t even pretend to be offended. He just raised an eyebrow at Y/N. “So, you have been lookin’ at me?”

“I—no!”

Roy groaned. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Alright, alright,” Jamie said, laughing as he held up his hands. “I get it. You think we should just shag and get it over with.”

Y/N choked. “Jamie!”

Roy looked physically ill. “That is not what I’m sayin’.”

Jamie smirked. “So, you want me to take her on a proper date, then.”

Roy stared at him like he was debating whether or not to commit actual murder.

“I hate you,” Roy muttered. “But yeah, you’re both bein’ fuckin’ stupid, so someone’s gotta do somethin’ about it.”

Jamie turned back to Y/N, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You hear that, love? Roy Kent’s givin’ us his blessing.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare.”

Roy let out another long-suffering sigh and turned to leave. “Just sort it out before I retire, yeah?”

Once he was gone, Y/N peeked up at Jamie, who was still smirking at her like she was the most amusing thing he’d ever seen.

“You do like me,” Jamie said smugly.

She groaned. “I am going to throw myself into the Thames.”

Jamie just grinned. “Nah, you won’t.”

Y/N didn’t know how it happened. It was the day after the incident.

One second, Jamie was teasing her at the front desk like usual, and the next—

“So, what time should I pick you up tomorrow?”

She blinked. “What?”

Jamie smirked. “Our date, love. Thought we should make it official, yeah?”

Official. As if this wasn’t already the most humiliatingly obvious crush in all of AFC Richmond. As if half the team hadn’t already been placing bets on when Jamie would finally get his act together and ask her out.

She swallowed hard. “You’re… serious?”

Jamie gave her a look. “Obviously. Been serious since the day I met ya.”

Her brain short-circuited.

“Um,” she said intelligently.

Jamie’s smirk softened into something… gentler. “Look, if you don’t wanna, that’s alright. I can handle rejection. Probably. I actually never been rejected,” He grinned. “But I reckon we’d have a good time.”

She was so screwed.

“…Seven?” she squeaked out.

Jamie beamed. “Seven’s perfect.”

And that was how Y/N found herself sitting across from Jamie Tartt at a very nice restaurant, wondering how she ended up here.

Jamie, to his credit, was being ridiculously sweet. No teasing, no cocky comments—just full-blown, charmingly attentive Jamie.

He pulled out her chair for her. He asked her about her day (and actually listened). He even gave her his jacket when she shivered, despite insisting she was fine.

But now, as she stared at the menu, her anxiety was creeping in.

The restaurant was a bit fancier than she was used to. And while she technically knew how to read a menu, the pressure of making a decision in front of Jamie was immense.

She didn’t want to pick something stupid. Didn’t want to mispronounce anything. Didn’t want to hold up the waiter.

So, when the server came over, she panicked and just pointed at something random.

The problem? It was not what she wanted.

She realized it too late, eyes widening as the waiter scribbled down the order and walked off.

Jamie noticed immediately. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated. “I… I meant to order something else.”

Jamie tilted his head. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

She swallowed. “I—I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Jamie’s face softened.

“Babe,” he said, voice low and warm, “you’re never a bother.”

Before she could even process that, Jamie waved the waiter back over without hesitation.

“Hey, mate,” Jamie said easily. “Think we got the wrong order—she actually wanted the pasta.”

The waiter nodded, jotted it down, and walked away without a fuss.

Y/N, meanwhile, wanted to melt into the floor. “I could’ve just eaten the other thing…”

Jamie shook his head. “Nah. If you want pasta, you get pasta.”

She bit her lip. “I just—I don’t like making a fuss.”

Jamie leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied her.

“I get it,” he said. “But you don’t gotta be scared with me, yeah? I like lookin’ out for ya.”

Her heart did something stupid.

“…Okay,” she whispered.

Jamie grinned. “Good.”

And the thing was—he meant it.

All night, he made sure she was comfortable. He didn’t rush her when she had her shy moments, didn’t tease when she took a little longer to answer. Instead, he just smiled at her, soft and patient, like this—like her—was exactly where he wanted to be.

By the time the check came, Y/N had stopped second-guessing everything.

Because Jamie liked her, exactly as she was.

And maybe—just maybe—she was finally starting to believe it.

Jamie insisted on walking her home after the date.

“You know I always do that, love,” he had said when she tried to protest. “Can’t have ya gettin’ kidnapped, can I?”

She had rolled her eyes, but she didn’t fight him on it.

So now, they were strolling through the quiet streets, their hands occasionally brushing as they walked. Every time it happened, Y/N felt like she was about to combust, but Jamie acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “best date you’ve ever been on, yeah?”

Y/N smiled to herself. “You sound confident.”

Jamie smirked. “Well, obviously. I planned the whole thing, didn’t I?”

She laughed softly. “Alright, I’ll admit it—it was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Jamie grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Yeah? Who knew I was a proper romantic?”

“You are,” she murmured, half to herself.

Jamie glanced at her, his smirk faltering into something softer. His voice dropped. “Careful, love. Keep talkin’ like that, and I might have to kiss ya.”

Her breath caught.

Jamie must’ve noticed, because his smirk came back—smaller now, more teasing than cocky. He nudged her shoulder with his. “Relax, I'm just joking, yeah? Not gonna do anything you’re not ready for.”

That was the thing about Jamie—he flirted, teased, pushed just enough to make her heart race, but never too far. He knew her limits, never made her feel like she had to do anything just because it was expected.

She liked that about him. Really liked that about him.

Maybe that’s why, as they reached her front door, she hesitated.

Jamie stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Guess this is goodnight, then.”

She nodded, suddenly nervous.

Jamie chuckled. “You’re lookin’ at me like you wanna say somethin’.”

She swallowed hard, gathering every ounce of courage she had. “I just… wanted to thank you. For tonight.”

Jamie tilted his head. “Was my pleasure, love.”

She took a shaky breath. “It really was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Jamie’s expression softened. “Yeah?”

She nodded.

And then, before she could overthink it—before she could let the nerves ruin it—she leaned up on her toes and kissed him.

It was quick, just a press of her lips against his, but Jamie froze like she had just short-circuited his entire brain.

By the time she pulled back, her face was burning. “Um. Goodnight.”

She turned, reaching for her keys, but before she could even get the door open, Jamie’s voice stopped her.

“Oi.”

She turned hesitantly.

Jamie was grinning. Beaming.

“That was—” he said, voice warm and full of love, “you are full of surprises.”

And with that, he gave her one last lingering look before stepping back, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked away.

Y/N stood there for a moment, heart racing, before slipping inside and leaning against the door.

She had kissed Jamie Tartt.

And by the look on his face—he was definitely going to kiss her again.

[madthetruemad]

the one place you want to be | jinwoo x fem!reader

italicized font = your langauge

normal font = korean langauge

You wanted to cry, like for real.

Dying wasn't on your to-do list and neither was being hit by a truck and going through that lame ass anime trope of being transported to another world.

However, since you realized that you've been sent to Solo Leveling, you found yourself didn't quite mind that isekai trope, well, until you realized one fatal flaw....

You don't speak korean.

You always wanted to learn the language, but never found the time or money. So, of course, the one time you decide to be a lazy ass you get sent to another world where said language is being spoken.

You wanted to rip your hair out because you were so damn frustrated. Life truly wasn't fair-

Your internal panic and anguish was momentarily disrupted by a soft tap on your shoulder. Blearily, you managed to blink through your tears as you looked over.

Holy shit- Jinwoo?!

Looking at him, it was clear that he was tall and muscular. So, did the double dungeon happened already..., but how far was he in the story now?

Then you noticed that he was talking to you and you immediately panicked.

"Sorry, I don't speak Korean," you said your words slow like an idiot as if saying it slow was going to help the fact that you were speaking in another language, but you couldn't help it.

You didn't know what else to do, and it wasn't like you were teleported with your smartphone either.

Jinwoo seemed to smile at you as he brought out his phone and began to type something down before showing it to you. Looking down at it, you saw the dumb translator text that Google provides, but honestly, you were thankful.

You quickly read over the text while being both surprised and grateful that he was able to pick out your language so easily.

'So the system sent you as a prize this time?'

Huh?

You furrowed your brow and looked up at him, a slight tilt to your head. You, of course, read through Solo Leveling and even started watching the anime, so seeing the word System wasn't what surprised you, it was the fact that he was referring to you as some sort prize he got after completing his dailies.

You raised your hand and typed something in the little box, your words being translated to him easily.

'System? Prize? What do you mean?'

His eyes scanned your words before typing his reply, 'when i completed the dungeon the system gave me a choice. when i chose what i wanted, you appeared.'

You hesitantly took a step back, but he matched it by taking a step forward. He started to type again.

'You look like you know what I'm talking about.'

You nervously looked around, but despite his dangerously good looks, Jinwoo was still "technically" an e-rank, so it wasn't like all eyes were on him at the moment.

"I- i really don't know what you're talking about-," your eyes widened as you slapped a hand to your mouth. What the-?! You don't know how to speak korean!

Jinwoo smiled at that as he put his phone away, "looks like the system is helping me out again by gettinf rid of that language barrier. So tell me, where were you before the system brought you here?"

You couldn't tell if this was the start of a dream come true, or a nightmare.

[hitorim106]

"A Wolf At My Window"

synopsis: Childhood friend Caleb pays you a visit in the middle of the night. word count: 1.8k notes: This is the first fic I've posted in a long long time (so nervous!!), but I want to post more Love and Deepspace Vocaloid song fics so.... I was listening to Romeo and Cinderella by Doriko and could not stop thinking about Caleb to this song so... Enjoy your food freaks. warnings: Forbidden love, friends to lovers, Juliet complex, childhoodfriend!Caleb, naive reader, love and obsession, coming of age, rebellion, not beta read we die like granny?

ロミオとシンデレラ

0:58 ──♡───── 4:41

Caleb had always been there. In the morning when the sky bled with pink and gold hues, waiting for you outside the door. At school, where his laughter was a shield, making sure no one saw how you shrunk under the attention. In the evening, when the soft glow of the lamp on your bedside was often shared with his silhouette, leaning against the frame while he teases you for reading romance novels instead of studying.

For years, he had been your constant. Your safe place. And maybe that's why you haven't questioned why his presence felt heavier than normal lately. Or why his gaze lingered too long. Why, when you met his eyes, you felt something tightening in your chest that had nothing to do with comfort.

Tonight, he wasn't waiting by the door. He wasn't teasing you about your choice of fiction, or ruffling your hair as he walked past. Tonight, Caleb was at the window.

You swallowed, gripping the edge of the blanket, staring at his silhouette through the glass. Your heart pounded. The rational part of you knew you should be started, maybe even a little scared. But you weren't.

With shaky fingers, you open the window.

"You know," you whispered, your voice barely above the wind, "normal people use the front door."

Caleb's lips curved as he pushed the window up further. His hands—big, sturdy—gripping the frame as he hoisted himself inside, "And normal people don't let in wolves after dark," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. Softer.

The air in the room changed.

He didn't step back. Didn't put any space between you two. Instead, he reached up, fingertips brushing against your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It was a simple touch. Barely anything. And yet, it felt like everything.

"Caleb—"

"Shh," he whispered. You froze as his thumb traced your jaw, tilting your chin up. "You always look away when I get too close."

You swallowed, "Well maybe you shouldn't get so close, then."

His smile deepened, but there was something unreadable in his expression. Something that sent a slow heat curling down your spine.

"That's the thing," he murmured, leaning down, his forehead nearly brushing against yours, "I don't think I can stop."

Your breath caught.

His other hand found your waist, fingers curling slightly—possessive, firm, like he wanted to make sure you didn't step away. But you weren't going to.

"How far can we venture tonight?" You whispered before you could stop myself.

Caleb stilled. His grip on your waist tightened just enough for you to feel the heat of his palm through the lace of your pink pajama top. Then, slowly, he smiled again. This time without amusement, without teasing.

"You tell me," he said, voice low, "but I'll warn you, I don't like being told to stop."

A soft shiver ran through you.

Your fingers curled against his chest, not pushing him away, but grounding yourself, "Be gentle," you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes, "I still don't like bitter tastes."

He exhaled, something like frustration flickered through his eyes. "Then don't tempt me."

You bit your lip.

And then his restraint snapped.

His lips found the corner of your mouth first, brushing, teasing, like he was waiting for you to push away. When you don't, he takes more. A slow, drawn-out kiss, his hands slide up, fingers pressing into the back of your back, pulling you closer. You barely had time to breathe before he kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he was trying to make up for all the times he held himself back.

When you break apart, you were breathless. Your head was spinning.

"Caleb," you whispered.

He studied you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. A silver chain. A delicate charm at the end.

You frowned. "What's that?"

"A promise," he murmured, lifting it, carefully fastening it around your wrist. "That I won't let anyone take you away."

You swallowed. "That sounds more like a collar than a promise."

His lips twitched, but his grip on your wrist was steady. "Same thing, isn't it?"

You should've been alarmed. You should've questioned him.

But as you looked at him—the boy who had always been there, who had always protected you, who had always wanted more but never dared to ask—you realised something.

You didn't want to run.

Not from him.

Not tonight.

Maybe not ever.

The thought should've scared you. Should've made you take a step back, regain some distance. But you didn't move. Instead, you let your fingers brush around your wrist. The metal was cool against your skin, delicate, but firm. A promise, he had said. A collar, you had called it.

Maybe it was both.

You looked up at him, at the way his purple eyes burned in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You had never thought of him as dangerous before. But now, standing here in the silence, the window still cracked open, letting in the cold night air, you realised—

He was the wolf if your story.

Not the prince.

Not the hero.

But the one who came I through the window instead of the door.

And you weren't stopping him.

His fingers traced the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse fluttered. He hadn't let go since he put the chain on you.

“You’re quiet,” Caleb murmured, watching you too closely.

You wet your lips. “I’m thinking.”

A slow, knowing smile. “About what?”

You hesitated. “About how my dad doesn’t like you.”

Caleb exhaled through his nose, like he expected that answer. “That’s nothing new.”

"He's going to notice if I start wearing this." you held up your wrist, the chain glinting in the low light.

His fingers curled around your wrist. "So don't take it off."

"Caleb—"

"I mean it." He pulled you closer, voice soft but firm, "It suits you."

You swallowed. "That's not the point. You know what he's like. If he founds out—"

"I don't care."

His voice wasn't sharp. Wasn't loud. But it cut through the air between you all the same. You felt your stomach twist, my breath catch. "You're not the one who has to deal with him."

His jaw tensed, "No. But I could take you away from it all."

You froze.

He wasn't teasing.

He wasn't being playful.

He meant it.

And for a single, wild moment—you wanted to say yes.

You wanted to be like those girls in the stories, the ones who ran away with their prince charming, who let themselves be carried off before the clock struck twelve. The ones who didn't have the think about their father's disappointment, or their mother's worried sighs, or the way everyone expected them to be good, obedient, reasonable

But this wasn't a fairy tale. Real life wasn't a fairy tale.

You stepped back. Just a little. Just enough for your back to hit the edge of your desk. "You're talking I'm some princess locked in a tower."

"Arent you?"

You glared. "I have a life here. A family. You can't just take me away."

Caleb studied you for a moment. Then, finally, he exhaled and let go of your wrist, his touch leaving behind the phantom warmth of his touch. "Fine," he said, too easily. "Then let me be the one who stays."

You frowned. "What?"

"You heard me." His expression softened, but there was something dangerous under the surface. "I won't take you anywhere. But I'll make sure no one else does either."

Yet another shiver runs down your spine. "That's not how this works."

He tilted his head. "Then how does it work?"

You hesitated.

Because deep down.. you knew.

If you told him to stop, if you told him to leave, he would.

But you didn't want him to.

You just didn't know if you could handle what it would mean if he stayed.

"I don't want to be someone's Juliet." You muttered, not looking at him.

Caleb let out a low chuckle. "I know. I'm not asking you to be."

My stomach twisted again. "Then what are you asking?"

Silence.

And then—

His fingers brushed under your chin, tilting your face up.

"Stay with me." He murmured, voice low, steady. "That's all."

Stay with me.

Not run away with me.

Not be mine.

Just stay.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Because if you said yes. I knew this wouldn't be some fleeting thing. Caleb wasn't someone who let go. He wasn't someone who would let you change your mind later.

If you stayed—truly stayed—then you were his.

And the worst part?

You wanted to be.

Caleb's hands were warm, steady. His presence wrapped around me like a vice, unyielding, inescapable. But even as your breath caught in your throat, as his fingers dug into your waist just enough to make you aware of his weight, your mind drifted, pulled back by the ghosts of childhood, by something so simple, so innocent.

Caramels.

Your mother used to make them from scratch, stirring the golden syrup over the stove, the scent of butter and sugar thick in the air. She would hum while she worked, the same old tune she'd sung to you as a child, and when the caramel had cooled just enough, she'd cut them into little squares, wrapping each one in wax paper.

They were soft, sweet, melting on your tongue in an instant. A taste that lingered, that filled my mouth with warmth and comfort.

Caleb used to steal them when we were kids. He'd wait until Mom wasn't looking, grab one from the counter, and flash you a smug little grin. "Don't tell," he'd whisper, voice thick with mischief.

You never did.

You still remembered the way he'd look at you after taking a bite—chewing slow, savouring the flavour—before offering you the other half.

Sweet things should be shared, right?

But that was the thing about caramel, wasn't it? It was easy to choke on if you weren't careful. Too rich, too thick, too overwhelming.

And now, with Caleb pressing you against the desk, his body so close, his hands so firm, you felt like you were choking again—on something just as intoxicating, just as dangerous.

He wasn't offering something soft this time.

He wasn't giving you the last half.

He was taking.

And you still weren't stopping him.

"Tell me you don't want this." His voice was low, rough against your ear. "Tell me to leave and I will."

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into his shirt. "Caleb..."

He waited. Patient, like he always was. But you could feel the tension in him, the way his grip tightened, like he already knew you wouldn't say it.

Because he knew you.

He had always known you.

And maybe that's why you had never been afraid of him.

Even now, when you knew—knew—that this wasn't something you could undo, that crossing this invisible boundary meant there was no going back, you still weren't afraid.

Because Caleb had always been there.

At every birthday. At every graduation. Through every stupid heartbreak, through every moment you'd felt alone.

He had been there, waiting.

And now, as your heart pounded in your chest, as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your hip, you realised something terrifying.

You'd been waiting too.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[kisssukuna33]

𝙅𝙅𝙆 𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝘾𝙀𝙇𝙀𝘽𝙍𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙑𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙀!!

Satoru Gojo

-Gives the most expensive gifts-

Satoru is the type to go all out for special occasions. So obviously he's no less in his game when it comes to valentine either. He's the type to give everyone he knows well valentine gifts including his partner, colleagues and even the students but he knows better to prioritize his partner above everyone else. He would be the type to keep track on your wishlist so he won't end up giving you useless gifts you won't be using. If your wishlist looks too poor for his taste he's generous enough to sneak in more extra gifts until it feels satisfying enough.

Nanami Kento

- loves to take care of you during the day-

Nanami is more of an action guy than a gift giver when it comes to Valentine. He would be the type to wake up at 3 am without you knowing so he can surprise you with a freshly baked cake and a delicious breakfast. Nanami always loves spending quality time with you on special occasions so the valentine day would be no different. You two will partake in activities Nanami has planned for both of you and he would end the day with a delicious homemade dinner worth a 5 star rating.

Choso kamo

-The chocolate disaster-

What's a valentine day without chocolate? That's Choso's motto during valentine. He's the type to buy a lot of ingredients he won't even be using and get started on the chocolate making atleast a week prior. No amount of preparing can prevent the complete disaster incoming though. You see Choso wanted to give you the BEST so he tried his best but maybe overdoing it too much can leads to you fucking up the whole thing, that's how Choso ended up with chocolate that barely tasted like chocolate and a kitchen covered in chocolate syrup and bits. But that doesn't demotivate your boyfriend at all because he wants his girl smiling on valentine, so he starts again and finally made them somewhat edible. No matter the taste the dedication your boyfriend put to the chocolates warms your heart anyway.

Atleast It is until you come over to his apartment and sees the complete disaster waiting for u in the kitchen.

Toji Fushiguro

- last minute gift buyer-

Toji is a man with a lot of responsibilities. Working through missions daily and still coming over to his house like a normal family man while keeping his job as an Assassin a secret from his wife indeed requires a lot of work. So you really can't blame Toji if he misses one thing or two. Maybe that's why he's confused as to why his wife is suddenly giving him the silent treatment. He follows around you like a lost puppy that evening trying to figure out what's wrong with you. And when you two finally settle into bed that's when it clicks to him as he remembers way too much pink shit being everywhere in the town today. He mentally curses as he excused himself from the bed to "go on a walk". Toji uses that opportunity to finally go into the town and find a gift that you would actually enjoy. Your anger washes over the moment you see your husband approach you with a small gift box in hands. He doesn't forget to apologize again and again for fucking up the day for you.

Ryomen Sukuna

- the mean tease-

Sukuna would be the type to buy you a gift even before you mention to him about Valentine. He would play it safe by saying "Useless stuff" "Good day for money grabbing corporate overlords". He enjoys teasing you throughout the day while you are waiting impatiently for his gift. But his teasing drops the moment he sees the pout and the gloomy expression taking over your face as you accept defeat. Sukuna's ass is so down bad for you that he absolutely HATES seeing you in that expression. Not even a minute after he tosses a gift box to your lap.

"Aw Kuna you bought a valentine gift for me?"

"No I just bought you a "gift" like I always do"

"No but you gave it to me during Valentine so of course it's a valentine gift!"

"Don't be stupid brat"

He says in his usual annoyed tone but you weren't able to miss the slight blush appearing in his face after you thank him with a kiss to his cheek.

Ugh I just love Sukuna so much, Hope y'all enjoy this Valentine drabble!<33

[macknshift]

sophia jean "junior" lawrence . . . cobra kai.

THERE ARE SEVERAL UNIVERSAL TRUTHS. ONE IS THAT JUNIOR LAWRENCE IS UNLUCKY.

if she was lucky, she wouldn’t be living her life stressed out of her tiny little mind. she would be living life like sam larusso. she would be happy and functional and normal. instead, her dad is trying to live out his karate dreams with this guy that she met at school, (that she may or may not have a crush on,) and she feels this unease about all of it. she knows she’s not a fighter, but her dad really, really wants her to be. she’s a runner, and she’s damn good at it. it’s almost like it’s her dad’s fault.

2 YEARS LATER . . . and she’s still running. she hasn't picked up a lick of courage in her two years training in karate, and now her dad’s weirdo old sensei is back, and she feels like she’s literally spinning every time she sees miguel diaz. she’s not cobra kai. she never was, even with the championship title, and now she doesn’t feel like an ‘eagle fang’ either. it leaves her with a pain in her gut knowing that she’s not what anyone around her wants. she knows what she is, and her dad won't like it. noone will.

cobra kai → eagle fang → miyagi do. born 02/04/02. 5 foot 9. high school senior. twin of robby keene, daughter of johnny lawrence. 2019 all-valley girls champ. aquarius, infp, 6w5. best friend of demetri alexopoulos, "rival" of sam larusso.

soundtrack of my life . . . orange juice , noah kahan. nobody's soldier , hozier. idfc , blackbear. honest , the neighbourhood. come back for me , jaymes young. i bet on losing dogs , mitski.

SOME HOUSEKEEPING!

⤿ johnny is not an alcoholic idc. he took one look at himself when he started to drink and knew he didn't want to be like that for me. so u know. he was at one point (around the time i was born) but he got his shit in check when he remembered he had a kid to feed.

⤿ shannon took robby & johnny took me in this weird, fucked-up little "well we have two kids so one of us gets one and one gets the other" agreement. robby & i are aware of the others' existence but don't know any actual details about each other (like name, where they live, etc.)

⤿ i have to be very aware when i say that i made this dr when i was 18. i still choose to shift to it now as a 21 year old bc i want to, and i know ppl might have strong opinions on that, esp bc i do have miguel as my love interest, but i've been watching the show since i was 17, almost wrote a fanfic before discovering shifting (i might still write that fanfic!!) but you are open to feel any way about this. so. yeah. rlly only writing this bc shifttok has had fits w me in the past but whatever.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ posting this today bc it is robby and i's 23rd (crazy work) birthday!!! this is one of like. 4 drs my birthday isn't 1/29 so. had to post this in honor 😁😁 i looove this dr so dearly (and miguel, he's been my man since 2021...xolo maridueña HMU!!!!!) even though it's lowkey the most . . . complicated of my drs (aka i deal with a lot of shit & happen to be lowkey v unhappy for a bit of it LMFAOOOO) but i made it at 18 and i was not in a good place but i'm too attached to change anything ab it lol 😭😭 also i am lowkey serving lizzie young but that's beside the point

[lsunstreakerl]

kidnapping ficlet! there will be more on this topic, for those of you who have been very curious about that. 1.3k words, mostly max POV with a bit of charles at the end.

IM REALLY NOT KIDDING: darkbull. this is right in line with the other kidnapping fic- very mature themes here, slight body horror from max. (because, ya know. trackers. inside of him.)

Max tries to curl up tighter under the covers. He's cold, and Charles is gone, and he's-

He's scared.

The apartment is empty except for the sound of a clock ticking from another room. Not that Max would know which room, because he's been in the bedroom since he woke up.

He's pretty sure, anyways.

His wrist throbs. He thinks he can blearily remember through the confusion and the fear, that Charles had pressed something onto his tongue, soothed him gently while Max gagged around his fingers until he swallowed it.

It's worn off now.

Max tries to curl his hands closer into his chest, but it's difficult with the way they're tied together, red ribbon winding through his fingers, binding them tight.

Charles had avoided tying anything across his wrists, which is-

It's something.

Max's stomach churns thinking about it at all, the way Charles had cut into him, dug into the flesh and meat, and the only thing worse than it happening at all-

He'd pulled something out.

It makes Max's skin crawl, thinking about the fact that something's been in there, inside of him. He'd had no idea.

There's noise from across the flat, and Max works his jaw, trying to get rid of the ache that the gag has placed on it. Charles had apologized when he secured it around Max's head, thumbs gently brushing away his tears.

Max had tried to beg, but-

His words hadn't worked. Come out slurred and illegible, and Charles had- had treated him like some kind of pet.

The sound of a door shutting, and Max flinches, eyes wide as he hears the clinking of keys and the rustle of grocery bags.

"Mon chaton!"

Charles comes around the corner, grinning brightly at him. Max has seen that grin on magazine spreads and instagram posts, stood next to that grin on podiums and in press conferences. It's never made him tremble like it does now.

"Oh, have you been good? No noises?"

Max couldn't make a noise if he tried. His jaw clenches around the gag, eyes narrowed, and Charles coos, brings a hand down to stroke across the side of Max's face.

"Yes, I promised I would explain things, didn't I? I will, don't worry."

Charles leans down and kisses his forehead, and Max is completely at his mercy, alone, and-

Max has not been completely alone in a long time. Redbull never- they wouldn't-

He misses them. He wishes more than anything that someone would break down the door, that someone would come get him, anything.

Charles leaves the room, but he's back a few seconds later, grocery bag in hand. He settles cross legged on the side of the bed, knee resting against Max's.

"Let me see... I have some painkillers for your wrist, and some water, and if you are well behaved you can have dinner with me, yes?"

There's a flicker of defiance in Max. He hasn't felt it in years, not since Jos was gone, but the feeling is still familiar. He won't make this easy- won't let Charles win.

Charles' grin slides into something sharper as his eyes brighten.

"There you are, baby. I was wondering when I would see you."

Charles hooks his fingers behind Max's head, and a moment later the gag falls away.

Max debates trying to snap at his fingers, but-

He's not a fucking animal, and his throat is dry, lips starting to crack.

They don't normally get this bad- Daniel likes to settle him on a counter somewhere, really take his time with it. Long fingers pressed gently to his lips, smooth strokes of the balm where they get bruised and sore. Max pretends he doesn't get it, but secretly he likes it- enjoys feeling taken care of down to the smallest detail.

Now he's not even sure if he'll get water.

He realizes a second later that it's suspiciously quiet, and when he refocuses Charles has his eyes narrowed.

"Baby, I am trying to take care of you. I rescued you, the least you could do is pay attention to me."

He sounds slightly annoyed as he cracks the cap on a water bottle, raising it to Max's lips.

"Slow sips. I already changed the sheets when you bled all over them, I do not want to do it again because you've choked, yes?"

Max suppresses the flinch, carefully tilting his head, trying to ignore the way Charles' fingers wrap tight around his jaw, holding him in place.

The first few sips are heaven- cold and crisp, soothing his throat. The second few sips taste weird- a slightly bitter aftertaste coating his tongue, and Max immediately knows it's not electrolytes, tries to tug his head away, but Charles grip is strong.

"Keep drinking."

Max tries to yank away again, but Charles' fingers dig tight enough to bruise, eyes narrowed, and his wrist hurts and he's alone-

Max drinks.

------

Charles pets over Max's hair where his head is resting in his lap. It's going to be a process, fixing him- but it's worth it.

He'll take care of him, the way Max deserves to be taken care of.

Charles doesn't want to be harsh, but right now it's what Max needs. He can be nice to him after Max has settled a bit, has better behavior to display. Charles doesn't believe in reinforcing the wrong kind of attitude, and Redbull has done more than enough damage to Max already.

He glances back at the hand not currently on Max, rolling the small capsule between his thumb and index finger. It's nonfunctional now, but-

Surely Redbull was not this negligent, to only give Max one.

But Charles had checked- had run his fingers across Max's wrist and ankles, pressed deep into his shoulders and collarbones, and he hadn't found anything, nothing at all.

If there are any other trackers, they are either too small to be felt, or too deep for Charles to find. Both options are bad, but Charles has a hard time believing that's what Redbull would spend their time on.

It's hard for him to get a read on how much time they actually spend with Max- just because he's constantly surrounded by the team doesn't mean they're interacting. Charles grits his teeth at the idea that Redbull has had Max locked away in some room at the factory.

The way they treat him- like some kind of thing- it's disgraceful.

He's not "some" thing.

He's Charles' thing.

And Charles is tired of other people getting their hands on him, doing what they want with him. He's belonged to Charles since day one, since they first argued, first made contact.

Max makes a soft whine, eyes blown and unfocused, and Charles loosens his grip. He hadn't even realized his fingers had tightened up, tugging at Max's scalp.

"Sorry, chaton. I am not angry with you."

Max shifts, trying to move, but he won't get very far- Charles is getting much better about his dosages. He doesn't even need to have him bound right now, Max doesn't have enough control to move around. Certainly not quickly.

It hurts Charles' heart, having to treat him like this, but Redbull still has their influence on him, deep in his heart and his brain, and until Charles can trust him not to go running back to them, this will have to do.

He lightly scratches his nails, watches Max's eyes blink back shut. He'll adjust, and then things will be perfect.

His phone buzzes next to him, screen lighting up for Charles to see it without having to reach for it. It's Oscar, telling him the job is done. Redbull has inked his contract, and finally all of Charles' hard work is starting to pay off.

Max, here in his lap. A mole, embedding himself into a rival team. The car is looking good as well.

He hums, feeling something warm and happy in his chest. He's a good planner, really. Everything is falling into place exactly the way he wants.

[caeli0306]

chapter 3 of Danger Zone (aka the Top Gun AU) now posted!

Chapter 3 is now up on AO3: READ HERE

oh hey! I told you guys I hadn't forgotten about this one (and still don't understand why people kept asking me whether I was continuing it?) but NO MATTER! our plane idiots are back, violet is dealing with a crisis in confidence, and xaden is along for the ride. for the record, this is super unrealistic (for one, you definitely can't just like, request a new plane whenever you want lol) but I don't even care bc it made me happy and the top gun movies aren't exactly the most realistic either. @skyfallscotland hold onto your hat bc the next chapter will be funnnnn

Summary:

In which Xaden Riorson, hotshot TOPGUN graduate with a penchant for dangerous flight maneuvers, is ordered to report back to North Island to teach at the storied aviation training school that he's done everything to avoid. But the night before he reports to his new duty station, a certain bartender catches his eye.

===

The transmission barely finishes before Violet hits the throttles, shooting forward before pulling into a climb. She inverts, then rights herself as she soars over my head and disappears behind me.

In normal operations, we’d each be flying with a wingman, meant to watch our six during hassles like this one. But combat can be unpredictable, and this isn’t just an exercise to get Violet to shoot me down – it’s an exercise in how to survive when backup isn’t coming.

I wait 60 seconds – no more, no less – and then invert, pitching the nose into a dive as the G’s press me into my seat. There’s a momentary rush of blood to my head, and dots dance across my vision. I pull up a moment later, closer to the ground and heading in the opposite direction. I begin scanning the skies for Violet, for the telltale glint of sun on a canopy.

It takes about 15 seconds for me to spot her. She’s a few thousand feet above me, flying at an angle that’s almost perpendicular to my own flight path. She must notice me as well, because she changes course as the same time I do. She flips over as she passes over me, diving down in an elegant arc.

I push the throttle all the way forward, and the subsequent jolt of power to the engines as the afterburners ignite is like a shot of adrenaline directly into my bloodstream. I use the extra speed as I pull up and to the left, gaining elevation as Violet loses it.

God, I love flying.

[cloversnstrawberries]

I really loved the platonic RE yandere you posted, would you mind writing a continuation of the Wesker part? xoxo

platonic!yandere!albert wesker & S.T.A.R.S!gn!reader [oneshot] ! !

masterlist ! [this is a continuation of this post !]

description; Honestly, why were you here? Why you? Why was it, out of everyone on the now defunct S.T.A.R.S team, you who caught his attention like you had? And why is he acting like this is normal?

additional notes; hello!!! i'm so glad you like it so much!! it was my first time doing multi-HCs, and i think it came out really well all things considered :)) i haven't really gotten the hang of HC format fully though, so i ended up doing a oneshot for this </3

but thank you so much for requesting a continuation!! i was more than happy to do it :)) i also tried a new style(?) of description, but i don't know if i'll stick with it or not </3

warnings; Drugging, hospital/medical setting, Wesker's god complex, mention of the other S.T.A.R.S members and their fates, imprisonment, captivity, general terror and confusion, Reader is very suspicious of Wesker's reasonings (he's not helping it at all), possessiveness, soft(ish) Albert Wesker, and if there's anymore i missed, please let me know!! :D my writing seems to leave my mind the moment i put it down...

w/c; 4.1k

How could it end like this? How could you let this happen?

You're trained. Maybe not as much as your other team members-- but you went through school for this, and you could've sworn you were just getting the hang of it all.

But then again, maybe there was nothing you could've done. Even if you were as experienced as everyone else-- hell, if you had more experience than everyone combined, it'd probably turn out the same regardless.

You trusted him-- they trusted him, just for him to lead them all like lambs to the slaughter;

He spared you, though. Why? What the hell is he up to?

That phone call you'd been eavesdropping on-- at the time, you couldn't make heads or tails of it. But now, oh... now you understand it perfectly.

S.T.A.R.S was never what it claimed to be, but out of everyone, only Wesker was aware of that. Not even Marini, because lord knows if he knew what was actually going on, he wouldn't have had any part in it.

Did any of them survive? Wesker made it sound like there was no chance anyone could've made it out alive. Apparently, he hadn't made it out alive--

He claims to have died, but to have come back better; reborn as something truer than what he had been.

God... how did you not see this coming? Again, you were trained! You... you were supposed to be able to spot these kinds of things. Maybe you'd been too blindly trusting, after all, he was your captain.

If you couldn't trust anyone else, you should've been able to trust him. That's how it's supposed to be. Only for him to turn around and stab you all in the back.

Even if he didn't send you out there. Even if you were the one exception, his companion (whatever that entailed), that couldn't mean much. Not to a man like him, who uses people as stepping stones. Who used your co-workers, your friends, as just rungs in a ladder; as he sought to achieve godhood.

He's different, now. He says he'd died-- and you don't quite doubt that fact. Maybe you should, but his... his eyes. His eyes gave you pause, as you tried to discredit his claim of being revived.

They were like a snakes-- no, a dragons, actually. You don't think snakes can have that sort of coloring naturally, the central heterochromatic yellow around his pupils, and the bright, jarring red the rest of his pupils held.

Sometimes, they almost glowed. The way he moved now wasn't human. Nothing about him was-- but not all of that could be attributed to his strange, unexplainable (from your point of view, at least) metamorphosis.

In theory, he was still so human. He had the same face-- his bone structure hadn't changed, god no. The only physical attribute that tangibly changed had been his eyes, and maybe his teeth and nails being a little sharper.

But something about him was monstrous, beyond those traits. Maybe it was the knowledge of what he'd done, or the fear spawned out of uncertainty. Uncertainty of what he has planned for you, that makes him seem so otherworldly beyond the obvious.

Why you? Why, out of everyone, did he spare you? It couldn't have anything to do with your age-- he'd mentioned no sort of exception made for Rebecca, who was only 18. Safe to say, he didn't have any qualms about leading a literal teenager to her untimely death,

And maybe you could argue that it was his higherups-- or whoever that Birkin he was seemingly talking to on the phone-- that forced his hand and made him 'euthanize' S.T.A.R.S.

He talked about them like they were animals, and not people with hopes, dreams-- families. Reasons to live outside of their jobs, reasons they were important.

Like they were lab rats, he'd indirectly referred to them as much during the phone call. So what did that make you?

When you were young, you had a neighbor who owned a snake. You don't remember what kind exactly, but it was a very sweet little thing. You wouldn't think a snake could be cuddly until you met that little sucker-- but in the end, it was still a snake.

It still needed to eat; most of the time, your neighbor would feed it frozen mice. But the snake would get bored, and if it got too bored then it'd refuse to eat until something caught it's fancy;

And in those cases, your neighbor would get live feeder mice. One of them, the runt of the litter-- had tugged on his heartstrings, one that seemed more intent on snuggling into his head more than trying to flee.

He kept it, and named it Sunflower. Sunny for short; and kept that little feeder mouse around as long as it could last-- and it even went past the expected age for a domesticated mouse. Much less a runt feeder.

Is that what you are? A feeder mouse that somehow managed to squeeze your way into whatever was left of Wesker's heart, one that snuggled up so sweetly-- that he couldn't help but to keep you, while he threw the rest of your brethren into the hungry snake’s enclosure.

Dinner and a show, your neighbor had dubbed it to try and make it seem less gruesome. If anything, it made the action worse in your little mind-- to add such an unassuming title to the practice.

You just can't wrap your head around it, how Wesker could give up so many people-- people he knew personally, that he'd actively sought out for their positions,

But that he seemed to draw the line when it came to you. That for some reason, he decided he wanted to keep you.

He visits you often, but not too much. You have no way of telling the time or date, or even an approximate of how long you've been here. You're set up in this strange sort of... half hospital room, half normal bedroom. It sort of looked like your bedroom back home-- your childhood one, but not to the point were you'd assume Wesker broke in and took a look around.

No, it just... looks like a normal bedroom, not necessarily childish, but not necessarily full adult. There was a dresser, a desk, nightstand, and a clothes rack-- an empty one, sure, but it was still there regardless.

That didn't make much sense to you, considering there seems to be a closet right next to the empty rack; but if you've learned one thing, it's hat you have no hope of trying to figure out why Wesker does the things he does.

And then, there was the bed. It was your average, run-of-the-mill hospital bed, complete with the ability to adjust the incline, bars at the side, and places for medical equipment to be threaded through or attached in some manner.

There was a stool next to your bed, and a metal rolling cart that Wesker usually pushed just out of your reach when he wasn't actively in the room. Like he was taunting you-- he probably was, actually. Just another thing to rub your own helplessness in your face.

Honestly, you wish you could explore the room. It wasn't large, but it wasn't small; you'd probably find very little, sure, but it'd still be something.

Instead, you were handcuffed to the metal bar of the hospital bed. As if you were a particularly high-risk patient, and not a completely healthy person that Wesker fucking kidnapped and hooked up to an IV, pumping god-knows-what in your system.

It didn't make you out of it, but you weren't exactly fully aware right now. Not physically, anyways-- you could hardly muster enough energy to turn onto your side, so safe to say that's the intention of whatever fluid is the IV bag hanging by your bedside.

And while it didn't necessarily make you out of it-- you could still think perfectly fine--, it did dull your senses a little bit. Made you more susceptible to being snuck up on,

"Good morning, dear heart." Honestly, it surprised you that you had enough energy to jolt a Wesker's sudden appearance-- you swung your head around so fast that your vision went bleary for a few seconds, before inexplicably clearing up.

"Is it really morning, or is it just another one of your lies?" This had become a routine of yours-- questioning every little thing he said. Everything he does, everything he says, could be (and most likely was) in an attempt to trip you up further.

Wesker has yet to be annoyed by this, and that worries you. It worries how... kind he's appearing to be. Yes, he's still stern, and grabs you a little too roughly when you try to resist whatever medication or food he's trying to give you--

But that's nothing compared to hell he put the rest of S.T.A.R.S through, from what you could piece together from little context clues here and there-- and the tiny tidbits of information he seems to let slip on accident.

He sat on the stool next to your bed, letting out a breathy laugh "Do you really think I'd lie about something soinconsequential?" You deadpanned, and immediately shot back with a monotone "Yes."

Again, he laughed. He always did this-- always had some sort of fondness held in his eyes, a softness to his smile that you didn't think he was capable of, especially now. He's acting as if this just another day, as if this is normal.

Like this is life or death for you, like you aren't in the den of a viper-- acting like a caring, nurturing figure to its prey. You know better, though. You know better than to believe it, that he won't turn around and eat you whole once you've served whatever hidden purpose he has for you.

"Well," He began, as he leaned over and pulled that metal rolling cart by his side. As he busied himself with preparing the blood pressure cuff (god knows why he's so insistent on doing this every visit-- like you were actually sick and in need of his care, and not like he was actively pumping drugs in your system to make you sluggish and lethargic for his own gain), he continued his thought.

"Despite what you seem to think, I don't particularly enjoy lying. Especially not to you, dear heart." You had half a mind to jerk your arm away when he reached out, but you knew from previous experience he just wouldn't care. He'd just grab you regardless-- be a little rougher with it. It didn't accomplish anything, fighting him like this.

...But it was the only conceivable way you could fight back right now, and that infuriates you. You like to think that, if you weren't cuffed to the bed with an IV stuck in your arm, you'd be able to take him down.

As if he took those precautions to protect himself from you, and not to protect you from yourself-- or keep you from trying to make a break for it the first chance you get. He knew you were clever, he'd said as much himself.

Oddly enough, Wesker had this strange habit of always complimenting you; usually, it was in relation to himself-- saying you were smart, but too kind for your own good. That your relation to him blinded you, made you overlook any and all red flags until it was too late to do anything about it.

But sometimes, he'd just... compliment you. No apparent backhandedness about it. Sometimes, he reminded you of a proud dad, welcoming home his kid after they got all A's in school.

It was disturbing, to say the very least.

After a few moments, you finally respond with a curt "Whatever helps you sleep at night.", Because you don't believe him for even a second. You wish you could yell at him, that you could berate him over everything he's done-- but with the drugs making you less articulate than before, and the fact that he could just kill you right then and there-- or at least cause you grievous bodily harm--, you decide against that.

For a moment, you could've sworn you saw genuine emotion cross his face-- but it was gone so fast, that you seriously question if your brain just made it up. That even after all he's done, your brain still tries to grasp at straws that he cares for you. That he cares for you as a person, and not what you can do for him.

...Whatever that might be, which has yet to be seen by anything but Wesker himself.

Wesker took a deep breath, a habit you used to think fondly of; because it meant he was actively putting an effort into not snapping at something, and he was downright terrifying when he got angry-- or even just irritated.

Now, it just makes your body tense. Back straight, muscles wound up-- like a hare ready to bolt. He seems to realize this, but doesn't seem to process what caused it. Instead of moving back, because it was so obviously him that was bringing out this primal sort of fear in you--

He just leaned closer. Thankfully, he didn't reach out to touch you or anything-- but he was still closer.

...Then you realize he was just opening a new bottle of disinfectant-- obviously, you hadn't gone down without a fight, no matter how futile it was. Maybe this was your brain trying to humanize the monster before you-- but if you didn't know any better, you'd say he felt guilty for causing your injuries.

Even if they weren't that serious; he treated them like they were the end of the world, when you knew you've sustained much worse from much less then a god-like being trying to capture you.

Hell, one time you got a concussion from falling off a spinning chair in high-school! (admittedly, that was not your best idea-- but it got the job done! you'd fixed the loose ceiling tile that'd been bugging for three weeks straight!) You'll be fine--!

But for some Godforsaken reason, Wesker seems to think your more fragile than a porcelain doll; and a not trained S.T.A.R.S operative (though, you weren't very experienced, that didn't negate the fact that you had the formal training, and passed all the tests).

For now, you let him play doctor. You tried your best to suppress a hard flinch when he leaned forward, and started tending to the cuts and scrapes littering your face and arms-- for some reason, he thought it'd been a good idea to toss you through a fucking window--

...Albeit, the window had been in the first floor lobby of your mediocre apartment-- and it did very well to slow you down from escaping, but still. Why would he do that? You were lucky to get away with what little injuries you had from the action--

Sometimes, a scary, downright existentsial fear inducing thought crossed you mind. That maybe, just maybe he genuinely hadn't meant to do that. He just didn't know his own strength-- didn't know how easy it was to toss your around like a ragdoll, now that he was... whatever he was now.

You didn't realize how quiet it'd gotten, only the faint whir of the medical equipment and occasional sound of shifting clothes or something being picked up-- until Wesker spoke again, startling you out of your downward spiral of thought.

"Is there anything you'd like?" That was... unexpected. Very out of the blue-- and at first, you thought it had to be some kind of test. Like he was trying to trick you.

Cautiously, you needled him for further explanation with a simple, straight-to-the-point "...What?"

Very well-spoken, you were-- but who could blame you, with whatever cocktail of sedatives and (entirely unnecessary, in your opinion) painkillers working through your system right now?

A faint, almost soft, smile graced his face-- as he, unhelpfully, just repeated what he'd said before. "Is there anything you'd like, dearheart?"

Your brows furrowed, as you searched his face for any clue on what the actual hell he was getting at.

Surprisingly, he let you think it through. Didn't rush you, and didn't seem to be getting impatient. You, however, did not want to push that limit, and ultimately just gave and asked "What do you mean? Like... meds?"

Predictably, Wesker laughed-- unpredictably, at least from your point of view, he leaned forward and fucking-- ruffled your hair?

Seriously, did his supposed death and rebirth cross some wires or what? What was going on??

"No, but I don't fault you for thinking that." You grimaced, his hand staying firmly on your head for a few more seconds, before he pulled back-- and you thanked whatever was out there for finally helping you out here, but that thankfulness was quickly dashed when he grabbed a hold of your hand.

It reminded you of when you caught pneumonia as a child, probably around 5 or 6. Your mom sat by your side the whole time, holding your hand just as Wesker was right now.

You wanted so badly to smack it away and yell at him, demand that he leave you alone and just stop acting like he cared--!

"Anything at all, a favorite food, a book, something to keep you busy,"

You should know better then to interrupt him, but you can't help it. It was a stupid idea, the whole thing-- but you had to try. That's all you can do right now, is try whatever you can--

"I want to be let go." Immediately, there was a very... noticeable shift in the energy of the room. No longer was it a tentative calm,

Now it was so stifling that it felt hard to breathe, as Wesker stared-- you're pretty sure, again, his eyes are covered as always-- you down, making you squirm.

His hold on your hand tightened, and you swore you could feel the bones in it creak and shift under the pressure of it.

Right before you were sure your hand would simply cave-- just give in under the pressure, Wesker loosened his grip.

Just enough where you were not longer worried about the immediate shattering of your bones-- it still wasn't comfortable, physically and emotionally speaking.

"There's nothing out there for you, dearheart." The strange sort of monotone aspect of his voice should've tipped you off, should've had the alarm bells in your head ringing louder than an emergency siren-- screaming at you to don't you dare try to push it! don't be dumb!

Evidently, you weren't paying any attention to that. It was like sleeping soundly through a tornado warning--

But hey, might as well start calling your Dorothy, huh?

"I don't care." Foolishly, you tried to pull your hand from his. Obviously, he didn't budge-- but it was a good sign that he didn't tighten his grip any further.

...Mostly because it would absolutely cause some serious damage if he did, and you're sure he was well aware of that fact.

"I don't want to be here anymore. I had a life outside of S.T.A.R.S, outside of you, and you can't just keep me in this room forever--!"

You don't think you've ever seen him so angry before. It caught you completely off guard, how open the emotion on his face was. How tensely he held himself,

"I wasn't planning on doing so! I'd let you roam once you're better, and I know you won't try anything stupid." There was... so much unbridled rage in his tone, that you felt like your heart might give out right then and there.

He'd never raised his voice at you before.

But you were too far in-- this was your chance, with him so worked up; you might be able to get some real answers out of him now.

"Why are you doing this?!" You sat up, trying in vain to yank your hand from his grip again-- surprisingly, he let you do so. But as you came to realize, it wasn't because of your efforts;

He stood, turning his back to you and headed over to the closet-- that was... unprecedented. You didn't know what was in there, and it only made you panic further.

Grasping at straws now, you tried to poke at his supposed admiration of you-- rushing out a quick "What's so special about me, huh? That you go through-- through all of--"

You didn't fault yourself for stumbling over the words, you were still drugged, and it was impressive as hell that you were able to be this coherent as it was.

That, to give credit where credit is due, got his attention. He was halfway through opening the closet-- and for a second there, when he stopped moving for just a second, you really thought he was going to answer you.

Shame on you, for thinking any part of this hellish experience would work in your favor-- because after that momentary pause, he went along his merry way without another hiccup.

Your heart was going a mile a minute, and you leaned over the side of the bed and strained your neck, trying to get a view inside the closet and--

Huh.

Despite your previous assumption, it wasn't so much a closet for clothes, as it was a... supply closet. Like ones you'd usually find in hallways, filled with cleaning supplies and miscellaneous home goods that didn't have anywhere else to go.

But instead of some strongly lemon scented spray cleaner and a dustpan-- there was some more medical supplies. Name bloodwork things, syringes, vials of god knows what;

And Wesker sure as hell wasn't reaching for the bloodwork stuff.

"Please, just-- just answer me!" Desperate saturated your tone, and you begged for a straight answer-- this was all so confusing. Why? Seriously, why you, why now-- why like this?

You couldn't see what he doing for a while, but when he turned, you realized the syringe was filled with something. While it didn't look particularly suspicious-- just a clear liquid in a run-of-the-mill syringe, you knew that not everything was as it seems.

In a last ditch effort of escaping whatever it was Wesker had planned, you threw the white hospital blanket off your legs and stood; you were cuffed, you knew very well you couldn't do jackshit--

But you weren't thinking very clearly, obviously.

To his credit, Wesker didn't really reprimand you for standing. Usually, he'd get a little 'worried' (thinly veiled annoyance, in your opinion) and get you to lay back down,

This time, he just grabbed you. Didn't try and get you back on the bed-- you struggled, God knows you struggled best you could;

In the end, it all amounted to nothing. Like you knew it would.

And yet, you still tried to fight the inevitable.

You felt a sharp pinch in your upper arm-- you looked down to realize he'd managed to inject you with whatever it was.

It took a few moments to register what had happened, and by then it was already taking effect. You stumbled, and managed to slur out a barely discernable "Wha.. was tha-at..."

"Just a sedative, no need to be worried." You wished you were in any condition to give him a glare that'd send any normal person running for the hills-- not that it'd do much beside amuse him, but it's the thought that counts in this situations--, but alas, you really weren't.

You weren't in any condition to give a coherent response either, or fight as he helped you back on the bed and placed the blanket back over your legs and torso, tucking you in like you would with a small child.

"And to answer your first question," Your mind had slowed down exponentially-- rendering you almost entirely unaware to the world around you,

But something about his words, even if you couldn't make sense or make any connections at the time, cut through that fog just enough where you vaguely processed it.

Wesker leaned down, giving you a little kiss on the forehead-- like a parent wishing their beloved child a good nights sleep, before he finally answered.

"It's because you're mine, dearheart. There's no deeper meaning, I simply wanted you safe and by my side. Like you always should've been."

At that point, you were mere seconds from passing the hell out-- the last thing you really registered was this smug sort of smile, like he knew you wouldn't remember a majority of that exchange come morning (or whenever you woke up).

[buckysgrace]

Out of My Mind

Gator Tillman x stepsis!reader

Gator finally listens to you, only for you to realize that's not what you want.

CW: Stepcest/pseudocest, blowjobs, unprotected p n v sex, some religious trauma sprinkled in there, degradation, reader gets highly highly pathetic soooooo

Can be read as a standalone or you can check out Good Graces as well :)

You were regretful. Your previous actions pained you, made your stomach knot with guilt and worry as you tiptoed through the ranch with your head down.

You were almost convinced that everyone knew, or at least had to be suspicious. Every time someone watched you for a second too long, or spoke to you in a different tone you were sure the truth was going to come out. You were fearful.

Not that Gator seemed to mind. No. He had no issues strutting around in his normal manner, almost as if nothing had happened.

You were doing everything in your power to avoid him. You didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to touch him or see him. You didn't even want to smell his cologne or hear his irritating music. Everything about him got underneath your skin.

It almost worked on your part, but Gator had apparently decided that he couldn't get enough. He was like a little puppy, following you around so closely that he often stumbled onto the back of your heels. The asshole.

You tried to pray away your sin, just like your mother said you could do. But not even that seemed to work. Today, your mind kept wandering back to Sunday and how he had continued to brush his fingertips against the bottom of your dress, just enough that you could feel his bare skin against your own. You could still feel his touch now, almost as if he had burned you.

"You look good on your knees." Your fingers tightened together at the sound of his voice, your eyes dramatically rolling into the back of your head as his footsteps echoed in the room.

"Leave me alone." You retorted the same sentence, although your curiosity got the best of you as you turned your head to the side.

He was in his usual cargo pants, and a black muscle tee clinging to him like a second skin. You could see everything if you allowed your eyes to wander, which you didn't. You couldn't.

"What crawled up your ass?" He teased as he cocked his eyebrows, bringing his vape up towards his lips. You shifted your arms over your mattress, too tired to tell him not to vape in your room.

His eyes were warm, a mixture of brown and green as he took a step closer to you. You hated to acknowledge the way butterflies erupted in your tummy at the way he towered over you from this position. You craned your head up further, deciding to be a little honest. Maybe he'd get the hint then.

"It shouldn't have happened," you told him seriously, whispering underneath your breath so no one could possibly hear, "it was wrong." You reminded him, feeling like he needed a reminder of what that meant.

He cocked his head to the side as he blew out a large puff of smoke, fruity like bubblegum. You swatted at him, wishing that he’d leave you alone.

"I don't remember you tellin' me to stop." He added as he watched you intensely, like he was trying to understand your next move before you made it.

You felt a wave of guilt and shame crashing over you, clearly remembering how you had acted. You didn’t need him to remind you. It kept you up at night as it was.

"Go away." You said at last, swallowing harshly as you turned your attention back towards the cross on your wall. You wondered how people could so easily resist temptation. And that’s exactly what he was.

"In fact," he grinned from ear to ear as he knelt down next to you, sighing softly as he moved his large hands across his thighs, "I think you begged for more of it."

"Don't flatter yourself." You scoffed even though it was true. You knew that you would do it again given the chance. He just happened to be blessed in an annoyingly manner.

Your stomach flipped into knots as he moved a hand against your lower back, making you stiffen as his fingers slowly ran underneath the hem of your shirt. You hated how easily you caved in, how you wanted to feel more of his touch:

"What's the problem?" he hummed as he dragged his finger across your abdomen, earning goosebumps across your skin, "you're already ruined for anyone else." He spit out, making your body chill from his cold words.

"Fuck you." You retorted as you found your voice once again. He couldn’t talk to you like that, you wouldn’t let him. Especially knowing what he had been up to. He has no right.

"Ooh," he smirked as he continued to drift his fingers across your skin, "I don't think God likes when you talk like that." He whispered, suddenly much closer than you anticipated. You could see his freckles on his nose from his closeness, making you wonder if he could also see the way his words sliced into you.

“Leave me alone.” You spoke firmly, sternly as you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pushed him away. He couldn’t treat you the way he did ever other girl he had been with. You wouldn’t allow it.

“You sure you want that?” He asked, all high and mighty like you would be missing out on something fantastic. Still, you thought about it for a moment. A brief second before you turned away from him.

“I’ve never been more positive about something in my life.” You replied as you linked your fingers together again, bowing your head and pretending to pray. You refused to look at him, only allowed yourself to listen as he stood next to you.

“Then don’t come bitchin’ to me when you’re all lonely again.” He snapped, his anger crashing over you like a thick wave. You ignored him still, only listening to the sound of his footsteps leaving the room.

You prayed that he had gotten the hint.

-

The next few weeks were uneventful, cold even. Gator didn’t bother you, didn’t look in your direction or speak to you other than to occasionally ask you to pass him the salt.

Which was somehow worse. All that effort to push him away and now you were regretting it, but you refused to admit it. You were sure he’d come crawling back first.

In place of his absence, your lust grew. You thought about him in the shower, during early mornings and late nights, when you were in bed alone and only God could judge you for your actions. You were a mess.

And when he remained stubborn you hatched your own plan; wearing shorter skirts and unbuttoning the top of your dresses a little more. Sitting close to him and drifting your fingers across the nape of his neck, making him shiver even when he pretended it didn’t affect him.

“Late night?” You asked as you turned towards him, checking the clock on the wall. He was almost three hours late, making you wonder where he had been. Or whom he had been with him.

“Why do you care?” He snorted as his eyes breezed over you, not paying attention to the little nightgown that you had picked out. You had hoped it would make him break and grovel for you.

“Who said I did?” He scoffed at your reply, shaking his head as he continued to strip his vest off. You watched the way his muscles tensed as he did so, making your mouth water just a bit.

You were already damned. You might as well make the most out of it.

“You don’t talk to me anymore.” You rested your hand against your cheek as you spoke softly, sighing as you crossed your ankles together. Your heart flipped inside of your chest as he turned towards you, eyebrows furrowing together.

“You said to leave you alone.” He stated in disbelief, eyes narrowing as you began to shift again. He wasn't any fun.

“Oh, come on,” you pouted as you rested your arms across the back of the chair, watching as he kicked his boots away, “I was just scared.” You admitted, wishing that he would turn those gloomy eyes towards you.

“Alright.” He stated dryly, like he wasn't interested. Panic swelled inside of you, making you wonder if he had already found someone else.

“Why don’t you come sit with me?” You offered as you patted the spot next to you, wanting him to notice how well you had cleaned up.

“I’m good.” His reply made your heart drop into the floor, beaten and bloody as you straightened your shoulders out. You wouldn't take that as his final answer, no way.

“I’ll rub your feet,” you offered as you slowly crept towards him, well aware of the way his features fell in surprise, “your shoulders and your legs. I’m sure you worked hard today.” You cooed softly, crawling like a beast towards him.

“What’s gotten into you?” He whispered out this time, hazel eyes widening as he gave his head a little shake. Like he honestly had no idea what he had done.

“Just being nice,” you told him as you rested in front of him, fluttering your eyelashes, “You look so tired. Let me help you.” You pleaded softly, hands falling against his ankles.

“You’re pathetic, you know that.” He spit out harshly, like his words could offend you as your hands moved up towards his knees. You didn't care what he thought, what anyone thought. He was probably right, but you knew he wanted you just as badly.

“And I know you’re lonely,” you whispered as you ran your fingers across his thick thighs, “I can fix that.” You told him honestly, leaning your face against his hip bone. You could feel his body stiffening from your touch, like he was fighitng the urge to give in.

“Why should I?” He asked as he breathed in deeply while you dragged your nose across the front of his pants. He smelt nice, really good.

"I'll be good," you promised as you nuzzled your cheek across his thigh, your nose dragging across the obvious bulge in his pants, "Please. I'll be a good girl. A good little sister."

"Yeah?" He tsked as he tilted his head once again, like he was still considering what you had said. You pouted your lips out as you continued to press yourself up against him, desperate to feel anything from him, "You can't be that pathetic for some cock."

"Just yours," you promised, purring as you linked your fingers across his belt, "I wanna feel you so badly. Please." You nodded your head encouragingly, as if it might do something to change his mind.

It felt like a lifetime had passes as he dragged his fingers across your forehead, the corners of his lips curled into the tiniest smirk. His eyes were intense as he watched you, but you refused to look away. You wanted him to realize just how much you needed him.

"S'okay," he said at last, making your heart hammer inside your chest as he began to undo his belt. Everything inside of you pulsed as you observed him greedily, trying to fight the urge to reach out and do it yourself, "We all make mistakes sometimes." He retorted cockily, nearly making you roll your eyes. But you didn't, too fearful that he might stop his actions.

You flicked your tongue out across your lips as he pulled his belt free, then unbuttoned his pants. You could no longer just sit as you reached forward, eagerly helping him pull his slacks down to his ankles.

Your hungrily stared at the large bulge in front of you, straining inside of a pair of boxers. You exhaled as you drifted your fingertips across it, grinning at the way he groaned underneath your touch.

A grin fell to your lips as you gripped a hold of his boxers, tugging them down slowly as his dick popped free from it's restraints. You were in awe of how long he was, how thick and hefty he appeared.

You hated to admit that his cock was pretty. Slightly paler, tip pink and leaking as you felt how heavy it was in your hands. Curved upright and his base surrounded with thick hair.

You wrapped your fingers around his thick girth delicately, biting down on your bottom lip as he inhaled deeply. You dragged your fingers up to the head of his cock, smearing the precum across his tip before gliding it towards his base.

He grunted lowly, jerking his hips forward with your motions as you continued to trace the curve of his cock with your hand. You swore you could feel him pulsing against your skin, warm and soft at the same time.

You relaxed your jaw, momentarily preparing yourself to feel the stretch of his cock in your mouth. You leaned forward, kissing the tip of his cock while stroking his base in your hand.

A whimper broke free from his lips, making your insides twist and turn in bliss as you snapped your eyes up towards him. His eyes had fluttered shut, his eyebrows furrowing together as his lips fell open.

Pretty. The bastard had the nerve to look absolutely beautiful.

"Fuck," he cursed, eyes snapping open to look at you as you spread your lips across his thick tip. You pressed your tongue down further, trying to make more room in your mouth as you lowered your mouth onto the length of his cock, "You're such a little slut."

His words carried like electricity through your veins, warming your skin as your clit throbbed as you savored the feeling of his dick in your mouth.

His hands fell to the back of your head, his grip tightening as he forced your mouth further along the length of his dick. You whined at the feeling, chest aching as your lips stretched further sound him.

“Just like that,” he groaned as his hips snapped forward once again, needy as you continued to bob your head along the curve of his cock, “taking me so good.” He praised as you swallowed a moan, all too aware of how soaked your panties had become.

You gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat, eyes watering as drool slid from the corners of your lips. It was messy, sloppy as he gripped the back of your neck and continued to fuck into your mouth.

You knew it was dangerous to be doing this, even more so than last time. Roy and your mother were just upstairs, hopefully asleep as you continued to drag your mouth along your stepbrothers fat cock. Something about that turned you on, sent a desirable rush through your body.

His fingers dug into your scalp as you gagged harshly around him, drool falling onto your chest and his boots as you struggled to hold him in your throat. His balls were warm against your chin, soaked in your spit as he held you in place.

He held you there for a moment, hazel eyes locked on yours as he breathed in the sight of you. You were sure you looked a mess, but everything written on his features suggested that he enjoyed it.

He released you with a loud groan, his cock sliding from your mouth as you pulled away to fill your lungs with fresh hair. You touched your chest, spit continuing to leak from your mouth as you panted roughly.

“Fuckin’ whore,” he cursed as he grabbed your arms, pulling you onto your feet before you could fully compose yourself. Your body felt like jello as he stripped you from your dress, moving hastily before he pushed you onto the couch, “knew you wanted me badly.” He replied with a little smirk, looking quite proud of himself.

You could barely not your head as you watched him, excitement pooling inside of you as you stretched your legs wide. You pushed your knees up towards your chest, trying to ignore the way your pussy was glistening with want.

“She’s so needy for me,” he cooed as he dragged his fingertips through your soaked folds, earning a little whimper from you, “can’t wait to feel her stretchin’ around me.”

"Need you to fuck me." You whined as he grazed his digits across your slick hole, making your walls flutter with anticipation. Your clit was throbbing, desperate to feel his girth gliding into you.

"You've got a dirty little mouth on ya." He stated as he tilted his head, looking rather cocky as he used his other hand to rub his fat tip across your drenched cunt.

Your body spasmed at the feeling of his heavy cock resting across your pussy, making you feel even more eager as you examined just how much of him would be filling you. You breathed in and out, eyes heavy and mind fuzzy with pleasure. You needed him now.

"Please, Gator," you whined, rolling your hips forward, "Make me feel good." You begged as your clit dragged across the curve of his cock. he groaned at the sensation, his eyes darkening as he reached between your bodies.

You chewed on your bottom lip, heart hammering as you watched the way he wrapped his fingers across his girth. His lips curled into a little smirk as he thrusted forward, his balls pressing against your skin as you squirmed underneath him.

He pulled back hungrily, features full of lust as he bullied the tip of his dick against your soaked hole. Your hands fell to his strong shoulders as he slowly slid inside, his soft groans filling your ears.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls out, allowing his thick cock inside of your tight walls as little whimpers left his lips. You were just as whiny, needing to feel him buried deep inside of you.

The sound that left his lips was enough to make your toes curl in pleasure, bliss burning deep inside of your veins as you tugged him even closer. His chest was hot against your own, his skin slick as you arched your chest up towards him.

One of his large hands fell to your waist, his fingertips digging into your flesh as he began to slowly grind his cock in and out of your clenched cunt. Your nipples hardened in the chill air, sparking pleasure as they brushed against his strong torso.

You reached your hands above your head, fingertips grazing across the armrest as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your wet walls. His mouth was hot against your skin, licking and sucking on your neck.

"So fuckin' good for me," he cursed as his forehead fell against yours, soft whines and moans continuing to spill from his tongue. You gaped, feeling like you had never been so deeply filled before, "You like my cock, don't you?" He mumbled, words strained as he roughly jerked your hands back across his shoulders.

Your nails dug into his flesh, earning a little yelp from him as he dragged his cock into you deeper. You could feel your eyes rolling back in pleasure, moans leaving your lips freely.

"Love your cock so much," you whined as you rolled your hips up to meet his thrusts, sighing as your cunt cried around his cock; soaking your thighs and his balls, "right there, Gator." You begged, electricity burning deeply inside of you as his warm eyes fell onto yours. Your insides twisted in bliss, taking in how pretty he looked as the pleasure filled him.

The couch creaked from underneath the combined weight of the two of you, your body sinking further into the cushions as his fingertips burned into your skin. You clung to him, your walls gripping him tightly as he pressed into your faster.

"S'fucking good," he spit out, lips coated with spit as his head rolled back lazily. The sound of your bodies meeting filled your ears, bouncing off of the living room walls, "Gonna fill this pretty little tang up, make her all mine." He huffed, throat straining as he gripped you tighter.

You nodded your head lazily, your mind foggy with pleasure as you savored the curve of his cock dragging against your bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, nails digging into his skin as your stomach muscles clenched tightly.

"Gator, fuck, fuck," you cursed, whimpers breaking free as your body squirmed underneath his heavy body, your orgasm crashing over you in thick waves, "Fuck!" You cried out, leaning forward to muffle your sounds of pleasure against his neck.

Your body shook, trembling as his thrusts became harder and faster. Your pussy squelched around his cock, leaking with your cum as his moans became whinier, needier.

Your lips pressed against his neck gently, leaving sloppy kisses against where you could feel his pulse raising underneath his flushed skin. You licked his sweat away slowly, before giving his skin a little nibble.

"M'fuck," he hissed as he pressed into you deeply, cock twitching as you curled your toes in pleasure once again. He was flush against your bundle of nerves

You bit down harder on his skin as you felt his cum spilling inside of you, coating your walls with a mixture of your sin. You hated how glorious it felt, how you already craved more of it.

His lips were soft against yours, even though his mouth was slightly chapped. You tilted your head up towards his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so he could kiss you deeper.

Your body was limp underneath him, thighs still trembling as you savored the taste of him on your tongue. This was going to be the last time. It had to be.

Maybe.

“Gonna want more of you.” He mumbled, like he could read your mind as he gripped your chin in his hand. He squeezed softly, eyes searching your own.

“It’s wrong.” You whispered as your heart continued to hammer roughly inside of your chest, making you wish you could hide it away.

“But it feels good,” he responded with a little smirk as he brushed his fingers across your cheek, “why should we deny ourselves that?” He questioned, making you wonder if you could agree with him for once.

[aviradasa]

The lost boys main hcs

Marko

5th times the charm with trying to post this.tumblr hates me. This isn't proofread. Sorry it's short I'm tired as fuck and irritated. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 🖤

Marko is an only child, and he grew up without a father. His mother was a seamstress and worked out of their home when he was a child. His mother was Italian, and his father was Swedish. When Marko was born, they were already living in the united states though so Marko had never been to either country, and he had never met any of his other family members. his dad died when he was 8, so he hardly remembers him now. His mother, on the other hand, died on his 16th birthday, falling victim to the san Francisco plague in 1904. Which was an epidemic of the black plague. He had to abandon her in their home to avoid catching it himself. Taking the last of the money they had and the necklace his mother wore with a picture of their family in it. Not long after, he found the boys, and they all stuck together (as you can guess), but not until after he struggled around town by himself for a few months. God, i need to stop making this shit sad hand on switching gears. He was the youngest when the boys got turned into vamps he had only turned 18 that summer He really tries to act more mature than he is, but as soon as something funny happens, that's over. Marko has a really good sense of humor, but he finds a lot of really stupid shit funny. He's the type of dude to watch his friends fall face down ass up on concrete and start laughing and snapping a photo before asking if they are ok (he is me) This also can lean into how he does lowkey bully people on the boardwalk. Mostly surf nazis but let's be so deadass he's kind of a dick to everyone there in his own special way. Him and paul have a tendency to double team people to: like whoever they come at wont have a chance to say anything cause as soon as one of them pauses the other jumps in to just dog on the person who annoyed them. Some of his insults get pretty creative as well: so if he says something to you thats just out of pocket,like 85% of the time its one of the ones that makes you stop to think about it before you can even get offended 🤣 Strange enough, though. He is very well spoken and charismatic when you talk to him normally. When talking, you notice after a while that he's not one of those folks that cuss every other sentence. Like he will throw it in there like everyone does, but not all the time if you feel me Idk how to describe it. he still talks like a normal person and uses slang and stuff, but he is oddly classy vocabulary wise. He's got a slightly softer tone to his voice as well, which makes his way of speaking come off smoother. He's also extremely smart. Having conversations with him is never really dull or unpleasant. (Unless you're an unlucky boardwalk asshole) Marko is very imaginative and creative. He never stops coming up with things. He hoards hobbies like a dragon hoard gold. From painting to sewing to cooking to wood carving, He just knows how to do this stuff, and he loves it. You will never catch him doing nothing. Even when he's spaced out at the wall, the dude is fiddling with something or sewing. Something together, he just can't stop. He loves giving gifts to friends as well. All of the boys have gifts from Marko that he's made himself. Mostly cause he loves showing off he has skill and unlike Paul he doesn't care if people touch his stuff so he will drag you around his space handing you stuff and showing you everything he's made/ collected cause he's just so proud. Just don't break it. He will be fucking pissed if You break it. Or if you give away anything he gifted you. Also he will talk to you about this stuff for hours on end if you let him (Do let him. He will love you for life if you show Intrests in the things he likes) his space is really cluttered. But looking around, it's mostly albums,art, fabric,patches, and various random objects.

other then that he's really clean. On that note He does not like getting covered in blood when he eats just sayin. He's like the least messy eater of the group mainly cause he hates getting it on his jacket. Plus the texture of dried blood on him makes him want to rip his skin off. It's just one of those things he can't stand So he makes sure to clean up fast. That doesn't mean he doesn't like toying with victims though he's a jumpscare master. He likes to scare his victims half to death before beating the shit outta them. He jokes that hes “tenderizing The meat”. When he does this He gets a kick outta that one. Oh he also likes music, he's not like overly into it though He likes alot of different types as well. Some of his favorite generas are Rock,goth,classical, and some 30s jazz strange enough. He does not give a DAMN what the others have to say about his music taste. if He wants to play his music it will be loud and proud. If they don't like it they are free To take it up with him. (They never will)

[ozwriterchick]

Back to Us - Epilogue

Summary: Y/n wakes after an accident to her Avengers team-mates. But something isn't quite right and only Steve and Tony can see it

This part starts with a time skip and there are a couple more time skips in it as well.

Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanoff; Other Avengers Characters

Content warnings: Mentions of an accident (no details yet); Infertility; If I missed any, let me know

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Not beta'd so any mistakes are my own. I don't write smut, but there are allusions to smut in my stories.

Back to Us Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 2555 (approx.)

6 months later

The team is gathered once more, this time for your and Steve’s wedding.  Nat is your maid of honour and Bucky is Steve’s best man.  Noah is the ring bearer and he’s super excited to see his Mum and Dad get married, even though he doesn’t really understand what it is all about.

Your nerves are present, given everything you, Steve and Noah have been through the last 12 or so months, you are constantly feeling on edge about it slipping away at a moment’s notice.  Steve has been nothing but amazing in reassuring you that the past is in the past and that nothing is going to stop you and he being together and maybe even giving Noah a sibling or 2.

Nat walked into the room and offered to help you into your dress and zip you up, so you could get onto the main event of the day.  “Nat, I don’t know why I’m so nervous” you say to her.

“Oh babe, it’s totally normal to be nervous on one of the biggest days of your life.  But trust me, that man can’t wait to start his life with you.  When you were unconscious, before we knew your memories had gone, he was beside himself thinking he had lost you forever.”

“Then, when you woke up and didn’t remember him, he was inconsolable.  He even talked at one stage about taking Noah and disappearing and having no contact with this life any more because it was so painful for him to see you and not have you know who he was and how much you meant to him.  And don’t get me started on Noah, he wouldn’t separate the 2 of you for anything, but he damn near did because he knew how much it hurt him and he didn’t want to see Noah go through it as well.”

“We all had to tell him that taking Noah away would hurt him even more because he already didn’t have you in his life, and if he thought you’d gone forever it would just break his little heart.”

Just then, you were both interrupted by a light knock on the door to your room.  Nat walked over and slowly opened the door, to ensure it wasn’t Steve trying to get a pre-emptive look at you before the ceremony.

Instead, she found a little man in a little tux who was looking for his Mama.  She opened the door wide enough for him to come into the room and he stopped when he saw Yn.

“Oh Mama, you look so booful.  I telled Daddy that you would, I just knowed it. He aksed me to give this to you.” With that he presented her with a small wrapped gift and an envelope.

Yn knelt down and opened her arms for her son to walk into.  He stepped forward and threw his arms around her neck and just held on for dear life.  He still remembered the few months when his mum wasn’t around and he took every opportunity to let her know he loved her and to make sure she really was here with him again.

“Thank you my little man,  Are you being good for Daddy and Uncle Bucky?”

“Yes ma’am” came his little soldier response.  His father had trained him very well.

“Good boy, then you run along back to Daddy so you can help him finish getting ready because Mama will be done soon and then we are going to have a big party, ok?”

“K, Mama.  I lub you bery much.”

“I love you too Noah, you have no idea how much.  Tell Daddy I love him too and I will see you both soon.”

With that, he ran out of the room and down the hall to where Steve and Bucky were getting ready in their own room.

Nat looked at her through misty eyes.  “I know I shouldn’t get like this Yn, but I really wish I’d be able to have what you have, but just having Noah in my life makes it a bit better.  He’s such a precious little soul.  You and Cap did well.”

“Yeah, I think we did.  Maybe we might do well again – who knows what could happen” Yn winks at Natasha.

Natasha side-eyes Yn. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“No, I’m not pregnant, not yet anyway, but I’m just saying, it might be something we work on during our honeymoon.”

12 months later

Yns pov

Well, we have worked on a sibling for Noah for longer than we expected to.  I’m not sure what is wrong and why my body can’t conceive the 2nd child we so desperately want.  It happened so effortlessly with Noah, we weren’t even technically trying when we fell pregnant with him and so this has been a big struggle.

We have an appointment with a specialist doctor today to get some testing done to see if there’s a reason why this is not happening for us.    I’m very nervous because I feel like the issues I had after my accident and the subsequent memory loss and the other falls I had might have something to do with it.  After all, my husband has super sperm so it couldn’t be that, right?  It has to be a me problem.

Sitting in the doctor’s office we heard the words Secondary infertility and my whole world just shattered.  “But doctor, I don’t understand, we’ve already had a child, how can we be infertile?”

The doctor explained that it sometimes happens after a couple has a child that they have a harder time conceiving and if they’ve tried for 6-12 months, they can diagnose it as this at that time.  He did assure us that there were things we could try and referred us to a fertility specialist to see what options we could have.

Steve pov

As we left the doctors office and got into our car, Yn was very quiet.  I know she’s struggling with this and thinking it is her fault, and now the doctor has used the word infertility I’m sure she’s even more in her head about this somehow being all on her.

“Babe, can you please talk to me.  We can work through this, it will be ok.”

“That’s easy for you to say Steve, this has nothing to do with you.  Your super sperm will work no matter what.”

“Hey, we don’t know that, maybe the serum has finally taken a toll on my sperm production and maybe this is all on me.  Point is, we won’t know until we see the fertility specialist and get some more testing done.  So, let’s call them and make an appointment for as soon as possible, that way we know where we stand and what our next steps should, or can, be.”  I move my hand off the steering wheel and onto her thigh, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I suppose, but if it turns out it’s me then maybe we should re-think this whole thing.” She sounded so dejected, I wasn’t sure what she meant.

“Ummm, re-think what whole situation my love?”

“Oh, you know.  Us.  Marriage. You should be with someone who can give you more children and not some washed up, barren old cow.”

“I’m sorry, what did you just say about my wife and mother of my son?  About the love of my life?  About the woman that I can’t live without?  Because if you’re even slightly implying what I think you are, then you’re crazy delusional to think that I would ever leave you just because we can’t have any more children.?

“If all we get is Noah, then I’m the happiest man on the face of the earth Yn.  You and Noah, you’re all I need.  Would it be nice to have another baby, of course, but it’s not a deal breaker for me you know.”

“Oh Steve, you always know the right thing to say, how are you so perfect?”

“I’m not perfect baby, I’m just perfect for you.” I smiled at her and hoped she got the dumb idea of us separating out of her head.

5 weeks later

Today was the day Yn and Steve were finally seeing the fertility specialist to get their test results.  Yn didn’t realise so many people were in a similar boat to them and where she had though they would get in to see the specialist within a week, they had to wait 3, then they took samples from both Yn and Steve to send away for the comprehensive testing needed to determine their next step.

Yns leg was bouncing all over the place with nerves as they sat in the waiting room, waiting for their turn with the doctor.

Steve placed his hand on her leg and squeezed, which seemed to calm her down a bit and mostly stopped the bouncing.  “Relax babe, whatever is meant to be will be, we can’t change it right now.”

“I know Steve, but I just wish we already knew and that I could hold a new baby in my arms who would be another mix of you and I, just like Noah.”

“Yeah, but…”  As he started to reply, the nurse called Yns name and they stood up to go into the consultation room.

Steve turned and put his arms around her and kissed her on the forehead as he said “We’re going to be ok Yn, no matter what happens in this appointment.”

They walked into the consultation room and the nurse closed the door behind them.  “Now, before the doctor comes to see you, we just need a little more blood from you Yn.”

“Oh, ok, why is that, is everything ok?”

“Oh yes, there’s just a note on your file that we need to do one more quick test today on you.”

“Ok, do you need me to go to another room or can you take the blood you need here?”

“Here is fine” the nurse said and proceeded to take the blood sample from you.  “The doctor will be in with you shortly.

Both Yn and Steve were nervous now.  They were under the impression that all the testing they needed had been done so they weren’t sure what this extra test that needed to be run was or what it meant.  They held hands as they waited for the doctor to come tell them what was going on.  Steve rubbed his thumb over the back of Yns hand to help calm her down.

“Steve, I feel like this is bad, very bad.”

“It’s going to be ok my love.  Whatever it is, we will face it together, just like everything else.” He once again kissed her on her forehead to try and reassure her and hoped she couldn’t feel his heart beating a million miles an hour and the nerves exuding from his body.

After about 10 minutes the doctor entered the room and greeted them.  “Hello Captain & Mrs Rogers, it’s good to see you both again.  So, we got the results of all your tests and everything looks good I have to say.”

“So, there’s no issue you can see that is stopping us from conceiving?” Steve asked the doctor incredulously.

“Nothing I can see at all.  Captain, your sperm are definitely super, there’s more than normal and they’re fast little buggers.  And Yn, your egg production is still right on track and they look very healthy as well.”

“Well, that’s good to hear Doctor” Yn said “But why can’t we conceive.  And what is this extra test they took blood from me for today – we thought we’d submitted everything for ever test under the sun.”

“Well, that’s where it gets a little tricky, because something did show up on your test that we weren’t quite expecting” the doctor began. “So we wanted to grab a little more blood just to quickly run another test to make sure the results were accurate.”

“And…” Steve was staring to get impatient. “Is my wife ok?  Is there something wrong that we need to see another doctor for?”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with her technically.  At least, nothing that won’t get better in about 8 months.  Congratulations you are pregnant.  Sometimes these things resolve themselves and it looks like it was just a matter of time for you two, and now you are about 4 weeks pregnant.”

Steve and Yn just looked at the doctor in absolute shock, they were totally not expecting this news.

“Are you sure Doctor?  I don’t feel pregnant.” Yn asked.

“Well, it’s still early, luckily we have sophisticated tests that can pick up the HCG changes very early, otherwise we might have missed it.  But the blood we took from you today has confirmed that you are indeed pregnant.  Now, I would recommend scheduling an appointment with your regular doctor and also an ultrasound for sometime in the next couple of weeks.”

“Thank you Doctor” Steve stood up and shook his hand.

Yn stood up in complete silence as if she was still having a hard time taking in this news, even though it was everything they wanted.

Steve moved her towards the door of the Doctors office, dealt with the paperwork with the receptionist and then led her towards their car for the drive home.

Time skip – 8 months later (approx.)

“On more big push Yn, you can do this, you’re about to meet your new baby.” The midwife encouraged her to keep going.

“I can’t.  They’ll just have to stay there.  I’m too tired.” She looked up at Steve who was holding her hand.

“Yn, you can absolutely do this my darling.  I know you can.  You did it with Noah, now you will bring our new baby into the world.  You want to meet him or her, don’t you?  We’ll be able to give them a name and see their little eyes and nose and fingers and toes.”

“Yes I want to meet them, but I’m soooo tired Steve, why can’t you push this baby out for me??” she asked.

“Believe me Yn, if I could, I would but you have to do this.  Now, when the doctor tells you to, just give one more big push and we’ll meet Noah’s sibling for the first time.”

“Okay, Yn, give it all you’ve got.”

Yn rolled her eyes, took a deep breath and pushed with all her might.

“Here they are” the nurse exclaimed.  “Dad, did you want to come cut the cord and give Mama the good news?”

Steve nodded, tears in his eyes as he stepped forward to cut the umbilical cord.  Hearing their baby’s first cry as he did so made the moment even more special.

Once he’d done the deed, he grabbed the baby and moved up to where you could see.  Placing the baby on your chest he said “Congratulations Yn, we have a beautiful baby boy”

Yn could not believe this day was finally here.  She kissed the baby’s head and said “Welcome to our family, little one.  We love you so much already, we’ve been looking forward to meeting you for so long.  We can’t wait for you to meet your big brother, he’s going to be so excited.”

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion @vioplay19 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @crazyunsexycool @zaraomarrogers @bitchy-bi-trash @mrsnikstan @harrysnovia @salemslostwitch