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zodiakuroo · 4 years ago

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Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours. Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That��s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle. Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”. All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years ago

Text

in the reciprocal

Words: 8.3k

Relationships: Jon & Martin (QPR)

Tags: Season 1, Scottish Safehouse, Light Angst, Queerplatonic Relationships, Gray-Aro Martin, Kiss-Averse Jon, Kiss-Averse Martin

Warnings: internalized arophobia, mild external arophobia, mild internalized homophobia, canon-typical Lonely depression and dissociation, teasing someone about a crush (in a friendly manner), mention of canon character death, Martin briefly pretending like he still has romantic feelings for Jon and participating in a romantic relationship that makes him uncomfortable (this is addressed and resolved)

Ao3 link in source

Martin’s relationship with romance has always been … complicated.

He has distinct memories of his early teenage years, when the major topic of conversation had shifted abruptly to who had a crush on who and who had kissed who after school and who had asked who on a date. Martin had never really participated in those conversations, though that could be owed more to the fact that he didn’t have many friends than that he wasn’t interested.

Because Martin was interested. The idea of romance had always intrigued him—a fairy-tale thing where there was somebody who would choose you and love you and never let you be alone ever again—and he wanted, more badly than he knew what to do with sometimes, to be in love.

The world, as Martin quickly learned, was not a fairy tale. No matter how much Martin tried to pretend otherwise. In fairy tales, when people got sick, they eventually got better. In fairy tales, parents always loved their children and showered them with affection. (Or were villainous and cruel, locking their children away in towers and treating them like objects to be discarded. Though Martin was never fond of those stories.) And in fairy tales, love was always easy. It wasn’t something that had to be learned or forced. It was instead like breathing—nearly effortless unless you thought about it too much—and, like breathing, it was something that everyone did.

So Martin couldn’t understand why he was so bad at it.

Just before he’d dropped out of school to work full time after his mother couldn’t anymore, he’d been asked on the first and only date of his entire life. Nino had been his friend for nearly a year and a half, and Martin loved spending time with him more than he loved most things in his life back then. School was growing more difficult as Martin had to take on a second part-time job, his mother was growing sicker and shorter with her temper, and he was quickly coming to the realization that he was … different.

After all, he’d never once felt the same kind of affection toward the girls whose names he attempted to doodle in the corners of his notebooks as he felt toward Nino.

Coming to terms with the fact that his first real crush was on his very lovely, very male best friend was … hard. But one day, Nino had bumped his shoulder against Martin’s as they sat in the library and had said something funny that Martin has long since forgotten, and he’d found himself smiling widely. His heart was a stuttering mess in his chest, his stomach twisted up into knots, and … things hadn’t been so bad, then.

Loving Nino had felt safe. Looking back, Martin is sure that Nino had been able to read all of Martin’s stutters and flushed cheeks and clumsy attempts at affection for what they were, but at the time, it had felt like a private indulgence. Just another way for Martin to spend time with the boy who was gradually becoming the most important person in his life. (Behind his mother, that is. She would always come first.)

What was funny about the whole situation, in a way that was actually not very funny at all, was that Martin was even considering asking Nino out. He liked to fantasize about what it would be like—creating clumsy scenarios in his mind where he would slip a note into Nino’s backpack before they parted ways or blurt it out on their way to the tube or whisper it quietly under his breath in the library so that nobody else could hear it but them. He imagined what it would be like if Nino said yes, his face lighting up with a smile and his hand reaching for Martin’s.

He tried to imagine what would happen after that—the date, the kissing (which he could never quite picture without grimacing and pushing the image quickly away), the hand-holding, the…

Well. He actually wasn’t quite sure what was meant to come after.

(Like breathing. It was supposed to be like breathing.)

It was funny, except it wasn’t. Because when Nino pulled Martin aside on their way home one day, face flushed slightly darker than normal, and hesitantly asked if Martin would like to go to a movie with him in a way that was very clearly meant to be a date, Martin expected to feel happy. He expected to feel relieved, that he hadn’t had to muster up the courage to ask Nino himself, or nervous, that he was finally going to be pursuing a romantic relationship with the boy he cared so much about.

Instead, he felt … stiff. Uncomfortable, like his skin was suddenly just a bit too tight. He felt the sudden urge to hide, or maybe to run, or to vanish into thin air so he didn’t have to be standing here anymore, now desperately trying to avoid the eyes of the boy who had just bared such a vulnerable part of himself to Martin.

Confused, Martin tried to look within himself for that warm, stammering affection that had been there a minute ago and found it transformed into something awkward and tense and devoid of all desire for romance. But that didn’t make any sense, he thought as he stared blankly at Nino, who was becoming increasingly nervous, shifting from foot to foot as his mouth pinched into a thin, anxious line. He remembered liking Nino. He remembered the fantasies, remembered coming up with a thousand scenarios just like this one, remembered stammering and stuttering and wanting so badly to take Nino’s hand in his own.

It was like remembering a story he’d been told. Just a fairy tale.

“You … can just say no,” Nino said finally, and Martin felt a curl of guilt in his stomach at the clear upset in Nino’s eyes. “If you have to think this long, it’s … probably not a yes. Is it.”

Yes, Martin tried to say. It’s a yes—of course it’s a yes, I’m just … surprised. Maybe things would make more sense if they actually went on a date. Maybe Martin would just … sort himself out. He was just surprised, or maybe in shock.

He loved Nino. He did; he knew he did. He just … had to figure out how to bring it back.

He didn’t get the chance. (Though, thinking back on it now, Martin knows that even if he’d tried, it wouldn’t have worked.) Nino pulled back slightly, hands going to the straps of his backpack self-consciously. “Right,” he said, sounding terribly embarrassed, and Martin felt himself mirroring the emotion. “S-sorry, I … I guess I was reading things wrong. I—I thought that you … never mind. It doesn’t matter.” Nino forced a smile then, and it lacked all the bright and shining things that Martin liked about it. “S-suppose I’ll … see you in school tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Martin managed to say. And then Nino was gone, and Martin walked home alone.

He dropped out a few months later. Nino said that he would call, but Martin has always been good at lying and even better at telling when somebody else is doing so. And Nino hadn’t been putting much effort into it.

That was … probably for the best. At least Martin didn’t have to feel that dizzying, sickening sensation of guilt and awkwardness every time he looked at Nino anymore.

So, there it was. The world was nothing like a fairy tale. His mother only ever got sicker, her affection for him only ever grew more a thing of the past, and love was…

Well, love clearly wasn’t for him.

That didn’t stop him from falling hopelessly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with Jonathan Sims.

Martin, as a rule, makes a habit of not talking about his love life. For one, because there is a distinct lack of it (a fact that he much prefers but doesn’t generally feel like explaining in detail). And for two, because Martin just knew it would turn into something like this.

Martin places his head in his hands to hide the flaming red of his cheeks. “Can we not talk about it?”

“I think we’re actually obligated to talk about it now,” Tim says with what Martin is absolutely certain is a cheeky grin. “Given that you’ve just admitted that your not-so-mysterious crush is Jonathan Sims.” He drops his voice to an exaggerated conspiratorial murmur. “Is he the one you’ve been writing poetry about then?”

“I don’t have to say anything,” Martin mumbles into the very clammy palms of his hand.

Tim, fortunately, drops the poetry topic. He unfortunately does not drop the crush topic. “I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he continues. “You’ve got good taste. The whole … sweater vest, ‘disgruntled professor’ vibe is attractive, and he’s funny, you know? In his own way.”

Martin lifts his head from his hands and gives Tim an exasperated look that he hopes screams can we please stop talking about this. Tim must misinterpret it as jealousy instead because he holds his hands up in the air placatingly. “Hey, no competition here. We’re just friends, and I’m not really interested in dating anyone at the moment.” A pause. “Though, I suppose if Jon asked, I wouldn’t say—you know what, that’s not helpful.”

“He is pretty hot,” Sasha pipes in from her spot on the break room couch. “I definitely get where you’re coming from.” Then, after Martin turns that same exasperated look onto her: “Just trying to show our support for the cause, Martin.”

“Yeah, well—don’t.” Martin stands, maybe a little bit too abruptly, and crosses the room to where the kettle sits on the counter. He fills it in the sink and then clicks it on, the blue light reflecting off the countertop and faintly illuminating his hands.

“Hey,” Tim says, leaning against the counter next to him and giving him a surprisingly serious look. “I’m sorry. If talking about this makes you uncomfortable, we’ll drop it.” He mimes zipping his lips closed and throwing away the key. “No questions asked.”

“I’m pretty sure talking afterward negates the ‘zipping your lips shut’ thing,” Martin says, which earns him an amused huff of laughter and a gentle elbow in the side. He finds himself smiling, if only briefly before it falls from his lips once again. “And it’s … fine. I’m not upset. It’s just…” He hesitates, considering, and settles on a suitably vague, “It’s complicated.”

Tim makes a noise of understanding. “Say no more, Marto. Consider the subject dropped.”

“Thank you.”

There are a few moments of silence between them, filled only with the gentle hum of the kettle. Martin reaches for the mugs, and as he pulls four from the cabinet, Tim says abruptly, “So wait—is that why you always bring him tea?”

Martin nearly drops the mugs. “Tim.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Tim grimaces at him sheepishly. “I’m dropping it.”

Martin nods and pulls the box of tea from the cupboard. As he gets the mugs ready, however, he can feel Tim’s eyes on him, heavy and curious. Finally, it gets to be too much, and Martin sets the box down with a sigh. “I bring him tea because he never leaves his office and at least this way he’s hydrated. If you absolutely must know.”

“Caffeine is a diuretic, you know,” Sasha says from where she’s still sitting on the couch.

“Yes,” Martin says tersely, grabbing the kettle as it clicks off, “but it’s better than nothing.”

The tea isn’t related to the crush. It really isn’t. But Martin knows that the more he tries to make excuses, the more it’ll seem like he’s deflecting, which will just be counterproductive. So he prepares the tea and passes Tim and Sasha’s mugs to them. Then, fully aware that Tim and Sasha are watching, he grabs Jon’s mug and makes his way to his office.

He doesn’t knock. He found out his first week here that Jon doesn’t like it when people knock and prefers them to verbally announce themselves instead. It wasn’t because Jon had told him; Martin gets the feeling that Jon is too stubborn to admit to that sort of weakness in front of him. It was because of the subtle tension in Jon’s shoulders every time Martin opened the door after rapping three times on the doorframe; the way his voice sounded ever so slightly pinched when he asked what Martin wanted.

So Martin says, just loud enough to penetrate the thick oak door, that he’s coming in, and then, after a moment, he opens it.

Jon is sitting at his desk, mountains of papers and files stacked on either side of him. His laptop is open in front of him, and he’s currently focused intently on something on the screen, the harsh white light of the LCDs reflecting off his glasses. He doesn’t seem to notice when the door opens, but when Martin takes a few steps closer and gently clears his throat, he looks up from the screen, blinking a few times as his eyes adjust to the dimness of his office.

“Ah,” Jon says, his gaze landing on the mug. “Right. You can…” He looks at the disastrously cluttered surface of his desk and, after some consideration, pushes a stack of papers to the side to make a mug-sized gap in the mess. “You can place it there.”

Martin does. He doesn’t mean to linger afterward. Even though things are ... better between them now that Martin is staying in the Archives and Jon seems to have softened slightly toward him, they’re not quite at the ‘hold a casual conversation’ stage of their relationship yet. Still, Martin finds himself standing in front of Jon’s desk long enough for Jon to glance back up from his computer, a small furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Did you … need something else from me?” he says, sounding more confused than annoyed.

No, Martin means to say. I’ll be going now.

Instead, he says, “How are you doing?”

Jon stares blankly at Martin, like he doesn’t understand the question. Martin briefly curses his complete lack of a verbal filter at the worst times and purses his lips, telling himself that frantically trying to rescind the statement will only make things worse. “I’m … fine,” Jon says with a hint of incredulity in his voice, like he can’t fathom any reason why Martin would want to inquire after his well-being.

Good, Martin opens his mouth to say. Let me know if you need anything else.

Why he says instead, “I just … noticed that you haven’t been going home lately,” he doesn’t know. He hasn’t had a crush in so long—is this what it was like the last time? God, it’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?

Jon still looks bewildered, though there is an edge of irritation to his voice when he says, “There is a lot to do here, Martin. I assure you, I can take care of myself.”

“Right, yeah.” Martin fights the urge to rub his hand along the back of his neck, settling for the inside of his wrist instead. “Just … I know I’ve taken your cot recently, and if you’re not going home at night, I—I would hate to feel like I’m making you sleep at your desk.”

“You are not making me do anything. I can make my own choices.” Jon purses his lips for a moment before saying, more gently, “Besides, you … have more need of the cot than me at the moment.”

Martin can’t help the little shudder that goes through him at the reminder of why, exactly, he is in need of the cot. “Yeah,” he concedes. Then, because it’s only been a week or so and he still feels like he hasn’t said it enough: “Thank you again, for … for letting me stay here.”

Jon’s expression softens into something almost sympathetic, just for a moment, before growing closed-off and shuttered once again. Martin’s traitorous heart thuds in his chest at the sight, just like it had when Jon had listened to his story impassively and then matter-of-factly offered him the cot like it was the only logical thing to do.

(He hadn’t understood why he’d reacted like that—pounding heart, sweaty palms, cottony mouth—until that night, staring at the dark, cracked ceiling of the Archives and running Jon’s words over and over again in his mind. But it wasn’t surprising, was it? Of course Martin would find himself attached to his prickly, no-nonsense boss who kind of hated him the first moment he showed him an ounce of kindness.)

“It’s … really no problem at all,” Jon says, sounding a bit stiff in a way that’s hopelessly endearing, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with Martin’s gratitude. Then, even more stiffly: “You’re … doing all right?”

The tentative concern in Jon’s voice is enough to bring a flush to the tips of Martin’s cheeks that he desperately hopes can’t be seen in the low light of Jon’s office. “Y-yeah. As well as I can be, I—I suppose.”

“Well,” Jon says in a businesslike voice, like he’s delivering a report, “if you need any further accommodations, please let me know. Given that this was a workplace incident and you were investigating the Vittery building on my request, the Institute and I are responsible for ensuring that you remain safe while you’re … displaced from your previous home.”

Martin has always been good at reading people. And for all that Jon wears various masks of professionalism and skepticism and authority, he’s still surprisingly easy to read. It’s easy to control an expression, to control a tone of voice, but Jon’s eyes are always so much more emotive than he probably means them to be. Right now, they’re flitting around the room, from Martin to the floor to his desk to the floor again, like they’re afraid to settle on one place for too long.

It’s easy to identify the emotion as guilt. It takes Martin a few more moments to place what, exactly, Jon is guilty for.

“It’s … not your fault, you know,” Martin says slowly. “What happened with Prentiss. You’re not … responsible for it.”

Martin expects Jon to brush him off—to tell him that he’s being ridiculous. He doesn’t expect him to say, with a voice that leaves no room for argument, “I am not responsible for Jane Prentiss’ presence in the Vittery building, yes, nor for the fact that she followed you home. But I would be remiss not to acknowledge that you encountered her while following up on a statement, per my request, and that I … was not as cautious as I should have been with regards to sending you on dangerous assignments.” Jon’s eyes are sheepish now, and a touch concerned. “I will be sure to take the appropriate precautions in the future, as it would be unacceptable for you to be injured or … otherwise hurt whilst performing your duties as an archival assistant.”

It’s not a heartfelt statement by any measure. Really, it’s just common decency, and definitely what should be expected from one’s superior in a line of work that is (apparently) much more dangerous than it appears to be on paper. But Jon’s eyes when they finally turn to Martin are softer than he’s ever seen them, even as his expression remains carefully neutral and professional, and it feels like Jon has just said something profoundly kind.

Martin’s heart has some stuttering, skipping things to say about that particular fact.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently. “Th-thanks.” He considers mentioning again that Jon really isn’t at fault for sending him into a building that, for all Jon knew, contained nothing more than a few very persistent spiders. But he doesn’t. Instead, he holds the little scrap of kindness he’s been given close to his chest, stammers something about getting back to work, and leaves Jon’s office before he says something embarrassing like I like it when you care or you have kind eyes or we could share the cot if you stay too late.

Tim wiggles his eyebrows at Martin as he takes a seat back at his desk, and Sasha gives him a much more subtle knowing look. Martin ignores both of them and busies himself with the statement sitting on the corner of his desk, diving back into the formatting he’s been struggling with all morning.

Jon is his boss. Jon doesn’t even really like him, when he’s not feeling guilty for almost getting Martin killed. It’s never going to work between them.

A bit of the tension bleeds out of Martin’s shoulders. His eyes drift back toward the door to Jon’s office—the golden nameplate outside it, embossed with Jon’s name, the frosted window, the old, warped wood—and he feels something light and comfortable settle in his chest.

Jon is prickly and lovely and blunt and awkwardly conscientious and completely unattainable. Jon is never going to look at Martin with affection in his eyes and ask Martin to run away with him to pursue a romantic, fairy-tale ending, and Martin is never going to feel that intense, awful discomfort that seeps into the gaps where the love once was. He can blush and stammer and imagine holding Jon’s hand and kissing the inside of his wrist and tangling his foot with Jon’s underneath a table, and nothing will change.

It’s never going to happen between them. And it’s better that way.

The car ride to Scotland is quiet. Jon keeps sneaking glances at Martin when he thinks Martin isn’t paying attention, as if Martin will vanish if he doesn’t keep a watchful eye on him. It should be irritating, but … maybe he’s right. Martin doesn’t feel fully here yet. He still feels empty and numb, like all of the emotion and life and things that make him him have been cut away, consumed by the salty fog that had filled his lungs and stung his throat as he inhaled.

Peter Lukas is dead. Martin had felt it happen with a sort of empty detachment—the ripples of fog as Peter disintegrated into nothing but mist and static. Jon hasn’t spoken about it since they left the Lonely, but Martin had seen the tension in his shoulders as they’d returned to their flats to pack and taken the keys to the car from Basira and made their way painstakingly through London traffic.

Martin had wanted to tell Jon that it was all right—that everything was going to be okay. But his throat refused to form the words. It took all of his energy to remain present and solid, and he just … couldn’t. So he remained silent and gripped Jon’s hand as tightly as he was able and focused on not giving in to the Loneliness that still lingered underneath the surface of his skin.

Now, both of Jon’s hands are on the wheel of the car, his fingers and elbows rigid and stiff. Generic pop music spills out of the radio, the signal distorted enough that Martin only catches about half of the song, the rest swallowed by static. Better than him, he thinks absently. Right now, he feels as if he’s only static.

He can’t remember if he was like this before the air opened wide in front of him and he was swallowed whole by the fog, the panopticon gone in an instant and replaced with nothing but endless gray. He was … close, he thinks. Every day, things grew dimmer, his own thoughts and feelings more difficult to get a handle on. It grew harder and harder to remember why he was resisting at all. What his goal was, other than to just … be alone. He thinks he would have forgotten entirely, had Jon not been three floors beneath him, alive and breathing and reminding him that he was doing this—all of this—for a reason.

It had been … lovelier than Martin ever could have imagined, falling in love with Jon. It grew within him like a garden, new flowers cropping up every day. Some were white and delicate, blooming in his lungs when he looked at Jon and felt the all-consuming need to bundle him up in a blanket and make him tea and hide him away from the things in the world that wanted to hurt him. Others were purple and angular, blossoming with every lunch they had together and story Jon told him. And some were red and thorny, roses with waxy petals that made Martin’s cheeks grow hot every time Jon said his name like it was special or treated him kindly or smiled.

So when things grew difficult—when the loneliness crept too close, when he grew too comfortable being invisible, when he had to look Jon in the eye and tell him that he didn’t want to see him—Martin retreated to the quiet garden in his soul. He ran his fingers along the petals and stems and leaves and reminded himself that he needed to do this, or he’d lose Jon again and the garden would shrivel and die.

It had been an easy decision, in the end.

There’s a soft crunching noise, and Martin breaks free from his thoughts to see that they’ve transitioned from the smooth asphalt of the motorway to an unpaved gravel road. It’s bracketed on either side by trees, and though the sun has long since set, Martin can still see the gentle swell of hills around them, outlined softly in the moonlight. He thinks, for a moment, that he sees fog, clustering around the bases of the hills and swirling around in tight eddies, but when he blinks, the image is gone.

“We’re almost there,” Jon says quietly. It’s one of the few things he’s said to Martin the entire trip. Then, after a moment: “It’s … rather nice out here.”

Martin supposes it is. The landscape around them had been a vibrant green before twilight had washed it out into deep blues, and there have been cows dotted around the fields, shaggy and brown and grazing contently. It’s a stark change from the grays and browns of central London, with buildings on all sides and people everywhere and no chance to ever really see the stars. If circumstances were different, Martin thinks he would be cooing over the cows and trying to get Jon to stop so he could take pictures and enjoying his first trip outside of England.

Instead, Martin just nods.

Jon seems to understand. He sneaks another glance at Martin—full of something soft that Martin, in his foggy state, doesn’t quite know how to parse—but remains silent for the rest of the trip. It could easily be a stiff, uncomfortable silence, but … it’s not. It feels companionable.

When did being around Jon become so easy?

Daisy’s cabin is small and squat, nestled between two hills and idyllic in a way that doesn’t match the rough-hewn, steel-eyed woman Martin had known. The inside is dusty and cold, and Jon mutters something about central heating before disappearing down the corridor and leaving Martin standing in the living room, staring at the place he’ll be living in for the foreseeable future.

The place he’ll be living in with Jon for the foreseeable future.

Martin feels something in his chest stir at that—a strange, twisting emotion that’s there and gone before he can put a name to it. He shivers, in a way he doesn’t think is from the cold, and goes to find Jon.

He … doesn’t think he should be alone right now.

They find an old, rusted radiator that miraculously still works, pumping out hot air with a groan of metal. Jon digs a set of musty sheets out of the linen closet and begins dressing the bed. Martin notes the lack of a second bedroom, and he thinks he might object to the implication that they’ll be sharing a bed if he weren’t aware of the fact that he might vanish if left alone for too long. (Or if he were himself enough to feel embarrassed. Or to feel anything.)

He doesn’t think anything shows on his face, but Jon’s always been keen, even more so now that knowledge drips into his mind like water from a leaky faucet. Jon’s hands flutter over the sheets for a moment before he says, “I … hope this is all right?”

Martin tries to find his voice to agree, but the energy required to summon it is too much, so he settles for a shallow nod. He doesn’t think it’s a sufficiently enthusiastic agreement, but Jon doesn’t question it. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, then says, “And … you’re all right?”

It’s a bit of a ridiculous question, really. No, Martin isn’t all right. No, there’s nothing Jon can do about it. No, he doesn’t know when things will be better. Or if they’ll ever be better.

Martin just looks at Jon, eyebrows slightly raised. Jon lets out a small, dry laugh. “Right. I … suppose that was a silly question. I—I meant…” Jon hems and haws for a long moment before finally saying, “Do you feel … safe, here? W-with me?”

That question has a much easier answer.

When Martin nods without hesitation, Jon visibly relaxes. “Good,” he says, voice rough around the edges. “That’s … that’s good.”

They stand there for a moment longer, the silence between them thick and heavy but not uncomfortably so. Finally, Jon clears his throat and says, “Well, I—I suppose we should rest then. We can … talk tomorrow?”

Martin nods and tries to smile. He doesn’t quite manage it, but … that’s all right. For now, this is enough.

Jon retreats into the bathroom, and Martin finds himself overcome with exhaustion. He slips into the soft pajama trousers he’d absently stuffed into his duffle bag, climbs under the covers, and is asleep before the sound of running water from the other room abates.

Martin doesn’t remember what happened in the Lonely. Things had been foggy and disjointed, slipping through his grasp when he tried to hold onto them. He barely remembers what came after, when Jon had led him away from the sand and the fog and the waves, his palm a searing heat against Martin’s. His first few days at the safehouse are spent in a similar fog, like each muscle in his body is frozen solid and he’s slowly attempting to warm them with a matchstick flame.

His third day is … better. His fourth, better still. By the end of the first week, Martin feels more himself than he has in months, if still acutely aware of the fog that now lives in his lungs and creeps out of his throat when he thinks too hard about what’s transpired or when Jon is out of sight for too long.

Martin remembers what it’s like to be happy. He feels it when he shuffles sleepily into the kitchen on their eigth morning in the safehouse and sees Jon standing in front of the stove, hair tied up in a neat bun and eggs sizzling in a pan in front of him. He remembers what it’s like to be frightened. He feels it when he wakes at night, shivering and shaking with the lingering memory of dreams of nothing but endless fog and aching loneliness.

And he remembers what it’s like to be in love.

He remembers it just in time to lose it.

The worst thing, Martin thinks, is that he’d almost managed to convince himself that it would be different this time. He knows, logically, that it’s not that simple. He’d done a little bit of research after what happened with Nino, reading through a few web pages on aromanticism before becoming overwhelmed and closing out of every single one of them. He tentatively returned to them a few years later after realizing that this wasn’t something that he was going to grow out of or move on from.

He had difficulties settling on a label, partly because of the sheer number of them and partly because he … didn’t quite know how to categorize his feelings. How could he categorize something that he’d only felt once before? Gray-romantic seemed the safest option, so that was the one he settled on.

(Not that he ever told anyone that he was arospec. It never seemed important, even when Sasha would needle him about his crush and Tim would make too-loud suggestive comments that could surely be heard through the door to Jon’s office.

… Martin misses Tim and Sasha. He thinks, if he’d had the chance—if he’d had more time—they would have been the first people he told.)

Martin knows that his relationship with romantic attraction is complicated. Yet somehow, he’s still found it within himself to hope that this time, things will be different. This time, when he tells Jon that he’s very in love with him and has been for a while, those words will continue to be true even after they’re spoken. (He ignores the fact that the actual thought of saying them aloud makes his stomach twist and his mouth grow chalky.)

But, just like with Nino, Martin doesn’t get the chance to try. Jon beats him to the punch.

“I … I love you,” Jon says quietly. He has Martin’s hand in his, and he’s holding it so gently Martin might cry. There were things Jon said before this moment—a conversation that has led them here—but Martin is having a hard time recalling any of them. All he can think is no, no, not now, not here.

His skin crawls. His hands are clammy, and he’s sure that Jon can feel it. He has the instinctive need to get away, but he’s also frozen in place, the lump in his throat sealing away all of the words that he should be saying.

He should be saying something.

The silence stretches on between them, the vulnerability on Jon’s face slowly morphing into concern. “... Martin?”

He sounds so confused, and Martin … he can’t. He just can’t. He doesn’t think he’ll survive the moment when that confusion turns to hurt.

So Martin swallows sharply and forces his hand to squeeze Jon’s and says, “I love you too.”

And he does, in a way. He wants Jon here, by his side, eating breakfast next to him and rambling to him about whatever latest thing has piqued his interest and listening to Martin describe the cows he’s seen on his walks. The thought of Jon leaving—of losing him, the same way he lost Nino—makes his stomach twist into knots, because Martin loves him.

Just … not in the way that Jon thinks he does. Not anymore.

And Martin can’t help but feel guilty about that fact.

Jon frowns at Martin for a moment more, like he can tell that something’s wrong but he’s not entirely sure what. Martin breathes out slowly and gives Jon as genuine a smile as he can muster, trying to convey that everything is fine. That nothing’s wrong—why would anything be wrong?

It must work, because Jon exhales slowly, his expression softening into one of the gentle smiles that Martin has grown so fond of. He rubs a thumb over the back of Martin’s hand in a motion that should be comforting but only reminds Martin of the fact that Jon is doing it because he loves him.

Martin thinks that Jon is going to kiss him then—isn’t that usually what comes after things like this?—and dread coils in his stomach. But Jon doesn’t. Later, Martin will find out that Jon dislikes kisses just as much as he does (though for different reasons). For now, though, Martin can only feel relief when Jon squeezes his hand once more before letting go and standing. “I’ll go make us some tea,” he says quietly, then retreats to the kitchen.

Thinking back on it, Martin wonders if Jon knew then. That something was wrong. But for now, he just feels relieved that he has the space he needs to breathe.

It’s their second week at the safehouse, just a few days after Jon told Martin that he loves him, that Jon finally sits Martin down after dinner and says softly, “Martin, am I … am I making you uncomfortable?”

“What?” Martin says, like he has no idea what Jon’s talking about. (Like a liar.) “No. What … what makes you think that?”

Jon wrings his hands together. He’s wearing one of Martin’s sweaters, and Martin doesn’t know how he feels about it. The clothes sharing is fine. The fact that Jon is clearly perceiving the clothes sharing as a romantic gesture is … less than fine.

Martin told himself that it would be okay if Jon perceived their relationship as a romantic one and Martin didn’t. He was good at pretending. And besides, how different could things be?

Very different, as it turned out. In all the ways that mattered.

Jon seemed to take any opportunity he could to touch Martin—a hand brushing against the small of his back when he passed behind him to grab a mug, an ankle nudging against his underneath the table as they ate, a head resting on his shoulder as they sat side-by-side and read. Martin had never been particularly touch-averse or touch-starved; touch was just … touch. He’d liked it when Tim had tousled his hair or when Sasha had thrown her legs across his on the breakroom couch, but he didn’t feel like he was missing out on anything on the days he went without any human contact at all.

Now, it’s all Martin can do not to flinch away from Jon’s touches, knowing that each one is delivered with love and affection that Martin can’t return. Though perhaps he hasn’t been doing as good of a job as he’d thought, judging by the concerned look Jon is giving him now.

There have been other things too—whispered I love yous in the early mornings and soft smiles that seem somehow more and little gestures that are so Jon but also so romantic—and Martin wants so badly to disappear back into the fog in those moments. But that … that wouldn’t be fair to Jon. It’s not his fault that Martin is like this, after all.

(It’s not Martin’s fault either. He knows this, logically. He’d spent a long time hating himself for what happened with Nino, for how he couldn’t just be normal and go on dates and enjoy something that the rest of society seemed to prize above all else. It had taken him years to finally come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t broken, and he couldn’t be changed. That this was just … who he was.

It doesn’t mean that sometimes, he doesn’t wish that he could be someone else. And he’s never wanted it more acutely than when he stares at Jon’s kind brown eyes and soft smile.)

So Martin lied and lied and lied. And he thought he’d been doing so successfully. But here Jon is, frowning at him, a careful distance between them, and Martin feels his chest begin to tighten.

“I just…” Jon begins, then stops. He looks down at the couch, studying the ugly floral pattern with apparent rapt fascination. Martin doesn’t know what to say, so he waits anxiously until Jon finally continues, “It doesn’t feel like you’re … happy. I know that things have been hard, a-and … it’s all right if you still need time after the Lonely, but it…” Jon swallows. “It feels like some of it may be because of me? W-when I touch you, sometimes you get … tense. And sometimes…”

“Jon?” Martin prompts after a moment, the word strangled by the growing lump in his throat.

“Sometimes,” Jon says quietly, “when you tell me that you love me, it … it feels like you’re lying.”

And the way Jon says it—tentative, with wide, hesitant eyes, like he’s the one that’s the problem—makes Martin’s desire to keep up the ruse crumble away in an instant.

It still isn’t easy to come clean. But he forces himself to do it anyway.

“It’s complicated,” he begins, then winces. Not a good start. Sure enough, Jon’s shoulders grow tense, and he shifts slightly further away, like he thinks Martin wants more space. Because he thinks he’s done something wrong. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” Martin adds quickly. It’s not you, it’s me, he thinks wryly. “It’s … not your fault.”

Jon opens his mouth—to say what, Martin doesn’t know. He barrels on before Jon gets the chance to speak, his haste making his words harried and blunt.

“I’m aromantic.”

Jon blinks at him, clearly surprised by the abruptness of the statement. After a long, awkward moment, during which it becomes abundantly clear that Jon is waiting for Martin to make the next move, Martin continues, “My relationship with—well, with relationships—i-is complicated. I-it’s, um … it’s hard to explain? A-and I don’t want you to think that I—I don’t care about you. I want to be here, w-with you, just…”

“Not in a romantic capacity?” Jon finishes softly.

Martin exhales heavily, feeling a bit like a hole has been punched in his chest and he’s slowly deflating. “Yeah.”

Jon is looking at him with soft, kind eyes, and Martin doesn’t know what to do with them. So he buries his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice coming out muffled.

“Hey, hey.” Jon’s hand brushes against Martin’s shoulder before pulling away quickly, and that just makes Martin feel worse. “You haven’t done anything wrong either.”

“Yes, I have,” Martin says into his palms. “I lied. I let you think that I—I was still in love with you, and … Christ, that was shitty of me.”

“I … do wish you had told me sooner,” Jon concedes. “But … only because I care about you, Martin, a-and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me.” He hesitates. “You … do know that I’m not mad at you, right? Th-that I wouldn’t have been mad, o-or upset, or hurt, if you told me that you didn’t feel the same way about me?”

Martin takes a deep breath, then another. “But I did,” he says raggedly. “For … for so long, I did. Ever since Jane Prentiss locked me in my flat for two weeks and you believed me when I told you about it a-and let me stay in the Archives. A-and I didn’t lie, in the Lonely. I did love you, a-all the way up until…”

Martin trails off. Jon lets the silence linger for a moment before saying gently, “If you don’t want to explain it to me, o-or if it’s hard, you don’t have to. But … if you can, I’d like to understand. For myself, a-and for you.” He wraps his hands tightly around his knees where they’re tucked against his chest. “This is important, and … I want to get this right.”

Martin exhales. He picks at a loose thread on the couch between them, focusing on it so he doesn’t have to meet Jon’s eyes and can pretend like he isn’t so extremely exposed and vulnerable right now. “I … I do want to explain. O-or I want to try. It’s … hard, though. Mostly b-because I’ve never had to explain it to anybody else? But also because … I don’t really understand why I’m like this.”

Jon opens his mouth, and Martin holds up a hand. “I know, I know—you don’t … have to comment on that.”

Jon closes his mouth and tentatively shifts so his knee is pressing against Martin’s. Martin waits for the tingling of his skin, the pins-and-needles discomfort, but it never comes. Maybe it’s because he knows that this is an act of comfort rather than one of affection. It’s … really nice.

He presses back with a sigh, feeling a bit of the tension and nerves drain out of him. “I—I get that love is difficult for me,” he says quietly. “I’ve just … always had trouble with the fact that what makes it difficult is that I’m someone who apparently never actually wants their love … requited. And if it is, I just … can’t anymore. It all goes away, a-and I just … fall out of love?”

Martin can feel Jon’s eyes on him, inquisitive and searching, but Jon doesn’t say anything. There’s a moment of silence between them, during which Martin tries and fails to collect his mess of feelings and thoughts and emotions into something that he can verbalize. Finally, Martin sighs and says, “It’s ironic, isn’t it. I’ve loved you for so long, a-and I still do, but … not in the way you love me. Not anymore. And now you’re the one who—who loves someone w-who doesn’t … who can’t…”

“Oh, no, Martin.” Jon’s hand is covering his then, and it’s warm and gentle and lovely, and Martin could cry. “I’m not…” He hesitates, squeezing Martin’s hand once. “Well. I am still in love with you. In the … romantic sense. I—I don’t want to lie to you about that. B-but I also love you in … so many other ways. Y-you’re my friend, Martin, a-and you’re someone that I can trust. You … you make me feel safe, e-even when there’s … so much in my life that’s dangerous and unpredictable, and I know that you’ll … always be there for me when I need you to be. I want to be here with you, always. I would … be happy in a romantic relationship with you, yes. But I would also be happy to just be with you. In whichever way you will have me.”

Martin’s throat feels very tight. “Oh,” he says faintly. He feels a pressure at the corner of his eyes and realizes, with a flush of embarrassment, that there are actual tears collecting there. He stares hard at the lamp just behind Jon, trying not to let any of them escape.”You, um … you really … mean that?”

“Of course,” Jon says, like there’s no question to be had about the matter. “You are … such an easy person to love, Martin. In all the ways it’s possible to love someone.”

Martin tries—he really does—to keep the tears back. But it’s just … so much, and Jon is so lovely, and this is more than Martin ever thought he was going to be able to have. So he takes a shaky breath in, and on the exhale, a few tears slip free and trail down his cheek. He brings a hand up and scrubs them away, mutters a sorry underneath his breath, but Jon just squeezes his hand tighter.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay, I’m … I’m here. I’m not leaving you.” Jon hesitates. “Provided that that’s … all right with you, of course.”

Martin can’t help the shaky laugh that escapes him. “Yes, it’s all right with me. Of course it is.”

Jon smiles, and Martin aches with it. “Good.” He nudges his knee gently against Martin’s. “Because this cottage would get very dull without you in it. Who would I talk to about all of Daisy’s awful romance novels?”

Martin laughs again, and it chases away most of the lingering tension in his body. “Be careful what you wish for. I’m going to start doing dramatic readings next.”

Jon’s eyes sparkle with humor, but his voice is sincere when he says, “I look forward to it.”

True to his word, over the next week, Martin does increasingly dramatic readings of the worn, water-warped romance novels stacked haphazardly on the safehouse shelves. (Skipping the, quote, ‘unnecessarily erotic’ bits to avoid Jon’s pinched look of discomfort and his own beet-red face as he stares down at words that should really not be used in a sexual context ever.) He bakes cookies, laughing when Jon drops the cup of flour he’s holding and ends up covered in it. He spends the first three walks after their conversation wringing his hands together before finally asking, in a series of nervous stutters, if Jon would like to hold hands while they walk.

“But not in a romantic way!” he hastens to clarify. “You just have very nice hands, a-and I’ve always liked the idea of holding someone else’s hand, but—you know, th-the romantic connotations of it aren’t … great, and … you know, now that I think about it, this was a stupid question, you don’t have to—”

And then Jon takes his hand and squeezes it gently, and Martin feels a warmth spread through him that he doesn’t quite know what to do with.

That’s been happening a lot lately. He … doesn’t think he minds at all.

Then, a few weeks after their conversation, Jon turns over in bed to face him and says, without any preamble, “Have you ever heard of a queerplatonic relationship?”

Martin has, but only in passing, so he shakes his head. Jon explains, sounding very much like he’s reciting the wiki page for the concept, which is … more endearing than it has any right to be, probably.

“Does … does that sound like something you might be interested in?” Jon says nervously. “W-with me, of course. If that wasn’t … clear.”

Martin nods before Jon is finished speaking. “Yeah,” he says, maybe a bit too eagerly. Then, quieter: “Yeah. I’d … I’d like that.”

Jon smiles then, bright and wide and lovely, and it occurs to Martin—not for the first time, and probably not for the last—that he can have this. That he can be with Jon—maybe for the rest of his life, though that’s a … big thought that he definitely isn’t ready to look at head-on yet—without the dates and the kissing and all the other romantic gestures that Martin always thought were necessary for something like this. That they can be happy, together.

That Martin can have his fairy tale ending, and it doesn’t have to look like he’s always been told it should.

Martin smiles back at Jon, reaching across the bed to brush his fingers lightly against Jon’s. And for the first time in a long, long while, he finally feels like he’s home.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #(in a queerplatonic capacity)#my writing #my fic

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realcube · 4 years ago

Text

random kisses with BNHA characters 💋

characters: bakugo, dabi, todoroki & kirishima

tw// swearing

katsuki bakugo

FJDBETIUSCA ok so i firmly believe that the first time you snuck up behind bakugo to surprise him with a lil’ kiss on the cheek, he was blushing so profusely and to hide it, he began wiping his face while muttering profanities

JUST SO THE PETTY BITCH COULD PRETEND LIKE HE DIDN’T ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT

‘ew! what was that for?!’ he snarled, aggressively rubbing his cheek to appear as though he was wiping off the kiss but in reality he was trying to hide his furiously red blush

‘awh, did you not like it?’ you pouted, cocking your head to the side at his negative reaction, ‘mina said it’d be cute.’

now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place

neither of which were kirishima

he could say he didn’t enjoy it but not only would he be lying, it might upset you and that’s the last thing he wanted to do tbh

especially bc you were both a bit apprehensive about physical touch up until now so it definitely took you some balls to make the first move

however, he’d have to swallow a lot of pride to admit that he liked it

so he eventually settled with muttering, ‘it’s whatever.’

perfectly executed, bakugo thought

you rolled your eyes at his answer, knowing full well that if bakugo didn’t like something, he’d make it a point to tell you - as he has done in the past

but the last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable so you didn’t pull anything like that again for a while

you didn’t really mind tbh but bakugo definitely did

i mean, you gave him a teaser of your touch and now he was addicted, so it was cruel of you to just withdraw so quickly

he thought that you were taking a break bc you didn’t want to come off too strong but one night, you were just sitting beside each other on his bed and you didn’t even care to give him just a little kiss not even a peck

livid. he was livid.

did he have to make the second move? is that how this works? he didn’t really know

‘uh, are you gonna kiss me or what?’ he hissed, shooting you a forced glare

your eyes widened, ‘uh, sorry, what?--’

‘i’m not saying it again.’

you smiled, shuffling over to bakugo before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, ‘okay, fine. anything my lil’ princess wants.’

‘OH FUCK OFF!’ he barked, playfully pushing you away slightly

‘okay, okay- i’m sorry!’ you giggled, leaning back in to briefly silence him with your lips, ‘that was a bit mean of me- if anything, i think asking for what you want is very manly.’

you stared at his displeased and gruff expression before realising that you should probably elaborate to fill the awkward silence

‘and what��s wrong with being a princess?- if you were one, i think you’d be cinderella-’

‘and you’d be the rat who makes me clothes.’ he let out a low chuckle at that comparison

‘i’m never going near you ever again.’ you grumbled, trying to scoot away from him but being prevented from doing so by his tight grip on your shoulder after he hastily slung his arm behind you

‘good!’ he scoffed while simultaneously pulling you closer

dabi

literally didn’t even faze him at first

you’d just sneak up behind him to pepper kisses on the nape of his neck and he’d simply turn around then offer you a bite of the burrito he was having

or you’d rush up to him while he was on his phone to press a quick kiss on his cheek and he’d just show you the meme he was looking at on his phone

no blush, no chuckle, no smile in sight

HOWEVER something that does get him every time is when you kiss along his lil’ face staples or when you’d make the ‘mwah’ sound effect as you kissed him

he thinks it’s so cute 🥰

and after a while of you doing that, he’ll probably start doing it too lol

but only on the top of your head or on the back of your knuckle

he doesn’t hold your hand too often bc of his quirk and also he generally doesn’t find it practical but sometimes when you are just sitting next to each other — watching a movie or sumn — he reaches out for your hand and just showers it with kisses

on the tips of your finger, knuckles, nails, wrist, palm- literally everywhere

oh and bites on you when he’s hungry and you’re making food-

that’s like his version of surprise kisses lmao

you’ll be daydreaming while stirring the pot of macaroni then he’ll sneak up behind you — silent asf — and bite on your shoulder or take your hand to bite your knuckle

although they aren’t full on bites, like a nom not a chomp, if that makes sense, it feels really weird bc his teeth are sharp as hell

it scares the shit out of you every time btw

one time, you tried nibbling on his hand in a similar way that he does to you but you were almost sick 🤢

like his hands literally reek of ash and smoke

you tried to play it off like it wasn’t an issue bc you didn’t want to hurt his feeling or whatever but like..he knew- and he felt bad that you felt obliged to kiss his crusty hands

but it also amused him to watch you try choke back a gag as your lips pulled away from his hand so yeah 🤠

shoto todoroki

every kiss he gives you is a surprise kiss bc you never see the bitch coming-

anyway, it’s impossible to surprise him with a kiss or hug or anything like that bc he just knows when you are nearby

he’s on hyperalert 24/7

the only time you’d possibly be able to surprise him is when he’s extremely tired or..asleep

but you can try though and he’ll commend your efforts :))

if he’s sitting in the common area and you try to shock him from behind with a sudden kiss on his shoulder, he’ll just look at you like 🙂 ‘good morning, (l/n).’

the first time you ever actually make him jump with on of your kisses is probably like..3 years into your marriage WIUGFLREUIBL

anyway, he highkey loves it though

it ALWAYS makes him smile bc you try so hard at something so trivial

flashback to that one time you hid in the pantry for a good 10 minutes just so you could jump out and scare him with your affection

but he opened the door and after you jumped out at him, he was still like, 🙂 ‘oh, hi, (l/n). what were you doing in the pantry?’

he might try do something similar to you but with minimal effort

for instance, if you’re waiting for him to arrive at the park, mall etc for a date and he notices that you haven’t seen him yet, he’ll just creep up behind you before hesitantly tapping your shoulder, accompanied by the most monotone ‘boo.’ you’ve ever heard

honestly, he kinda wanted to snatch your hand up in his but he tapped your shoulder instead bc he didn’t want to scare you into thinking that some random guy just took your hand

anyway mans doesn’t discriminate w/ his kisses just show him affection and he literally doesn’t care if it’s ‘random’ or not, all kisses are equal in his eyes

eijiro kirishima

plz he is the ceo of random kisses

definitely the sort of guy to creep up behind you and cover your eyes, ‘guess who!’

you sighed, instinctively covering his rough hand with your own, ‘i have no idea, eijiro. who is it?’

then he peppers your face in kisses,no matter who is around

the bakusquad will literally call him a sap till the day he dies and every single time kirishima will reply with ‘heh, okay.’

anyway, back to the scheduled programme

if you just rush up to him at lunch, give him a kiss on the forehead then bolt off, he’ll be a bit flustered but overall very hyped

not even confused tbh like he won’t even ask about it lol

ALSO if you’re in a support course and he comes back from a trip and you greet him by tackling him to the ground with affection, he will melt

like he could’ve literally came back from fighting villains, horribly injuring himself or almost dying but powering through, then you show him some love and he’s like ‘my time has come’ then he passes away 😇

but other than your initial burst of love energy when you first see him, you’re generally as gentle as possible with him when he comes back from a mission

which is the perfect opportunity to give random kisses bc he’s spent the last few weeks being on high-alert so now he’s just ..relaxed :)

oh and plz visit the dorm after school to surprise him, he will literally fall so hard- 😍

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dcforts · 3 years ago

Text

[week 3: i can still recall our last summer]

1.6k, pre s12.

Dean said it was too hot. He’d said it fifty times already since they left the bunker this morning and they were not even halfway through the journey.

He huffed and puffed, saying how uncomfortable he was in his jeans and tshirt and how much he hated his sweaty skin sticking to the vinyl seat. Cas tried to look sympathetic.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” said Dean, his eyes on the road, little drops of sweat above his upper lip. “At least loose the trench coat. I feel like I’m wearing it, it’s making me physically sick,” he said overly dramatic.

Cas indulged him and slipped it off, took off his jacket as well and loosened his tie.

Then he unbottoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He did a pretty nice job of it, he thought. He'd had done it a couple of times before, but Dean always said it looked messy and usually rolled them down again to do them himself.

Cas didn't mind that too much; Dean's fingertips travelling up his arms felt different than anything else he'd have ever experienced and he kind of started anticipating it.

Dean must have felt really bad today though, because he didn’t do anything but throw a quick look at him. Despite not being affected by it, Cas could tell the weather was unusually hot and Dean was definitely not used to it. Still, he could do with a change of topic.

Dean seemed to cheer up a bit when they passed a sign saying they were nearing a gas station, but then spent the time it took to get there to complain some more and apologize to his girl for not thinking of getting her a drink sooner. Cas managed to avoid making a comment on Dean talking about his car like that.

The place was pretty much empty. There were only two pumps that looked pretty old and a little store behind them. Dean stopped the car at the pump closer to the road and wriggled in his seat to take out a few dollar bills from his jeans, “I’m gonna get gas, could you go ahead to pay and get me something to drink?”

Cas nodded, “Sure.”

So he stepped into the store where the A/C was blasting and some mellow music was playing in the background. He wandered towards the fridges that held the beverages and spent a while trying not to feel overwhelmed by the choices available.

He knew what kind of beer Dean preferred, but it was too early for that. He scanned the shelves and looked for something that seemed refreshing.

There was one kind of juice that promised to be a "Natural Fruit Drink" and was stored in little colourful pouches. It looked refreshing enough. He grabbed two lemonaded drinks and a big water bottle.

“Would you consider this being a refreshing beverage?”

The old lady at the cash register smiled at him as if he was being funny, “Sure. There’s only one*, right?” she said, winking. She looked like she was expecting a reaction from him, but Cas didn’t know what to say. First of all, he was paying for two pouches.

“Uh –"

“Nevermind, dear,” she huffed a laugh, “you were probably too young to remember.”

That was highly unlikely, Cas thought. Thankfully she was handing him his receipt already so he was able to get away from the conversation with a, "Have a good day, ma’am.”

When he got outside Dean was waiting for him leaned against the Impala. There was no one else still, so he wasn’t in a hurry to free the space and lose the shade of the canopy over his head.

He had his arms crossed and looked like he was thinking intensely. Probably a way to murder the Sun.

He looked up when Cas approached, “What you got for me?”, he said and when he saw what he was carrying, he had the funniest reaction.

He started laughing.

“What?”

“Capri Sun?” he laughed some more, genuinely delighted, “God,” he said, taking one of the pouches from Cas, “Wh-why did you get these?” he asked in a silly voice and didn’t even wait for Cas to reply. “I haven’t had one of these in like – forever.”

He turned the pouch in his hands and then his smile softened and disappeared. He cleared his throat and knitted his eyebrows.

“You don’t like it?” Cas asked, confused by the sudden change of expression. “I also got you water.”

“Uh – no,” said Dean, “No, nothing like that. It’s just –” he was still turning the thing in his hands and not making any move to start drinking it. “These remind me of my mum?” he said like it was a question. He looked up at him and let out a little laugh. “It’s – weird. I can’t really – I mean I was three. I know I can’t possibly remember, and maybe most of the things are like – a wish or a dream or something, but – You know when you get like, memories from tastes and stuff? Like in In Search of Lost Time.”

Cas didn’t really know.

It must have read on his face because Dean snorted, “Forget it,” and kept going, “It brings me back to when I was a kid and – I don’t know.” He looked at the pouch. “I think it was summer? Must have been summer. I don’t even – She’d like, take me to the park, I think. I don’t remember Sam being there, so it must have been the last summer where it was just me and her, you know, before she – ” he trailed off, his hand gently squeezing the pouch. “Yeah. Anyway, I don't even know if it's real. Could be a commercial or something." He clicked his tongue, then finally jammed the straw in the plastic and brought it to his lips.

Cas was still standing there, his hands full, watching him as he drank. There was more to the story and he didn't want to interrupt. Sure enough, Dean added, “Anyway, when she was gone and we got on the road, money got a bit tight. I remember crying and kicking ‘cause my dad wasn’t buying it for me. That I remember well. I remember I learned not to ask for it anymore. So I had kind of – forgotten about it.”

He fell silent. Dean's childhood had been unfair and tragic and if Cas could have had the power to do something to set it right he would have. Dean rarely talked about it so casually. He didn't seem sad like other times, but as he finished his drink, Cas still felt the need to tell him, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, I'm not upset," he was quick to reply, shrugging, "I mean, real or not, it makes me feel good." He flashed out a smile, "It's making me feel good right now," he said, raising his eyebrows playfully at him, "Guess it'll remind me of today now too. And at least I'm sure this is real."

“Is today really a good memory?" asked Cas, skeptical, "You complained all the way here. And I thought you said, 'I'd rather go back to Hell than live another day like this.'"

Dean snorted, “Yeah, well," he said, one corner of his mouth going up in half a smile, "the weather is not all there is."

He looked away and walked a few steps to throw out the empty pouch. On his way back he headed straight towards Cas, and came to stand very close to him.

Cas blinked, “Do you want the other one?”

Dean smiled like he was being funny. “Nah, I’ll drink that later,” he said, but still took out of his hands both the water bottle and the juice and Cas didn’t understand what was going on when Dean sent them bouncing onto the backseat from the open window, barely taking his eyes off of him. Cas could not help but stare back.

“What-" he tried to ask, but Dean was already cupping his left elbow with one hand, soon joined by the other and unrolling the sleeve of his shirt. Oh.

Dean lowered his gaze as he worked and Cas took the chance to stare at him from such a short distance, focus on his eyelashes, his sweaty brow, the dark freckles on his skin. He was really close, closer than Cas thought he'd like to be in this heat. Cas' arm dangled by his side like a dead weight when he released it and his right arm was already halfway up in offering. Seeing that made Dean smile a little.

They were really close.

They were really close and Cas kind of wanted to step closer.

“You are so bad at this,” Dean huffed, his fingertips and knuckles brushing his skin. Cas thought it hadn’t looked that bad, but Dean would surely know better than he. He'd almost finished rolling up the other one as well, and he was slowing down his movements.

Cas wished he had four other arms.

"So -" Dean said, taking his time to smooth the last of the wrinkles, "How about a deal? If I start complaining too much, you -", he pursed his lips like he was thinking it through, but he was just trying to be funny. Cas found him funny, "you can play some music, drown out my voice."

"Do I get to choose the tape?" Cas asked, feigning innocence.

Dean looked up to give him an unamused look that said he was taking it too far, but when their eyes met he realized Cas had been waiting for that and was actually holding back a grin.

So Dean puffed a sigh to smooth the smile that was threatening to curl his lips. It didn't really work so he had to look away to hide it.

"Fine," he said in the end, finally letting go of his arm. He gave him a pat on his shoulder as he walked past him. "I'll let you choose the tape." He pointed a finger at him from the other side of the car. "Just this one time."

Cas was fine with that.

*a reference to the 82' commercial you can see here - just a fun a coincidence that it's the same year Dean's referring to :)

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

#deancassummerprompts21 #deancas #deancas ficlet #destiel fanfic #mentions of dean & mary #and #john winchester a+ parenting #me: okay for this prompt i have a very sad idea #cas: k but what if i rolled up my sleeves?#so i researched capri sun and they were distributed in the us starting from 81 so phewww just in time #or this whole thing wouldnt have made any sense #i know i cheated cause its not really their last summer but it was THEIR last summer yk?? :)))) yeah i know i cheated #my writing #cant believe im finally posting this #bet ill find 29032 mistakes a second after it goes live #playlist to write you say? i only listen to 80s commercials on repeat

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ateezinmymind · 4 years ago

Text

my brother’s best friend (part 3)

word count: 4k

fluff, angst (tw: mentions of abuse)

(part 2) (series masterlist)

tag list: @brie02 @a-soft-hornytiny @reeateez @multidreams-and-desires @woowommy @joongiebug @dreamyyang @fag0thh @renjunes @jung-wooyoungie @springbreeze96 @lizsvcks @yeosangmystar

the silencing aura between the two of you would seem unbearable to sit through- if it were in any other condition. the drizzle misting your clothes, skin and hair along with the distinct shatter of the different groups of people's conversation down the dock was the only thing you could physically understand and sense.

“y/n” wooyoung starts, the look in his eyes desperate for something you couldn’t make out at the moment, seeing him after such intense emotions about seonghwa, and having the one boy that you wanted to consolidate your heart in front of you made your tears break through. releasing a small whimper, seeing the way wooyoung stiffens himself and brings his hand to cover his busted lip. he calls your name once again a bit louder, stepping to the bench —sliding himself to your side.

you were flooding with so many emotions, those of confusion and guilt

“wooyoung.. i-“ you choke out as he instinctively pulls you into his chest. heaving out, and feeling his body shake as he too releases a cry.

“y/n, why..?” he says quietly in your ear “why are y-you here?”

“I needed to get away from h-him” you mumble into his damp shirt clutching onto him close, smelling the scent of fresh spring and comfort from his body- eases you into a sort of relaxation

the grip on your waist tightens when he hears that seonghwa was troubling you, nuzzling into his neck until all the sudden wooyoung is standing. one of his hands still remains along your side as he bends over to look into your puffy eyes, moving stray hairs out of the way and behind your ear- wooyoung puts his forehead against your own.

“do you want to walk with me?” he speaks softly, swallowing hard when you give him a faint smile- accented with a beautiful blush along with the few tear streams. your eyes searching in his, heads touching, the two of you so close you feel the warmth of his breath against your face.

sliding your head away from his, you stand up straight into his arms again- this time giving him a proper hug. arms wrapped tightly around his torso as wooyoung's hands slide from your waist to your lower back, bringing you closer against his body.

you didn't realize how much affection you’re starved of, and how long you've actually been waiting to fully embrace wooyoung again.

“y-yeah, that'd be nice” you reply into his chest not wanting this moment to end so soon

even though the terms of you two running into each other was on the lower side, it felt so good to have a face you knew that cared for you- a boy who was respectful and sweet to you.

“c’mon pumpkin” wooyoung chirps up, pulling away

you slightly blush from the nickname, it was cute.. and sweet.. just like him.

though something was definitely up, hence the way his lip was busted and the way undertones of purple were rising along his jaw

all of this, just as you were about to walk made you stop in your tracks. pulling wooyoung's arm so he turns around, you slide your hand to gently trace your fingers over his chin. feeling his smooth skin, then to his lip, softly running your thumb over the plump and red mound.

doing this causes the male to suck in a breath, the way your fingers delivered such delicacy to his face made his heart pull. the look in your eyes and how your eyebrows furrowed together looking at his face- made him a bit more nervous than he would like

“will you please tell me what happened?” you whisper, leaning in slightly as your hand comes behind his neck pulling him down to his ear

“pretty please woo woo?”

you pout sadly when he rips away from you, and watch him start to turn towards the end of the dock.

you just stand there shocked that he just started leaving, feeling your face burn with embarrassment you huff out with guilt. did you say something offensive? did you push the limit to your boundaries?

“y/n! are you coming?” wooyoung breaks you from your mind running thoughts

standing there with a hand rubbing the back of his neck as he balances on the ends on his feet, your heart tugs slightly.

“i said i wanted to walk with you”

the rain settled down as the two of you got back to the sidewalk, up away from the beach. the sky just beginning to turn dark, the lights lit along the railing of the dock twinkling in the distance when you look back.

you and wooyoung walking side by side, shoulders touching each other slightly every so often- making him bring space between (it would seem as from shyness?). neither of you had spoke a word yet, the tension heavily overwhelming the atmosphere

the way the silence just rested over, made you and your thoughts come through. you were a bit cold, your clothes although dry from the previous precipitation- your internal warmth escaped, you were emotional, you were confused-

peeking a glance over to wooyoung, the view of him brings a small smile to your mouth. his hair curling to his eyes, wet and dark. he was quite handsome like that actually.

you shouldn’t even have that on your mind right now, because there’s much more needed to be tended to- according to what happened to his sweet face.

but you forget how long you’ve stared for, and when wooyoung locks his gaze upon yours, you blush and stutter out an apology

“a-ah sorry-“

your mind feeling so many uncalled for nerves, why was your body reacting this way? this is wooyoung here, your brother's best friend- and just a certain boy who deserves so much.. a boy you've come to be very fond of-

“so y/n,” he pipes out while playing with his fingers, “do you want to talk about it?”

“uhh.. about..”

“him.” he replies back curtly “did he hurt you?”

the mere thought that he had hurt or upset you somehow made wooyoung feel so much inner rage. how did he let it happen? wooyoung knew seonghwa’s intentions, he knew that the certain male had a thing for younger girls in school. how he would treat them all high and mighty just for his pleasure, fuck- and he had got to you.

“well, no- not exactly” you say looking down at your pacing feet, “i stopped him before-“

“i knew it” he blurts out, interrupting you in the process “i knew he had some plan going on- why the fuck was he here anyway? there’s no other thing for seonghwa to come back here, why else would he have come”

the way he kept rambling about it made you start getting a little agitated and you weren’t even really sure why you felt so much right before you snapped.

“maybe he wanted to hang out with me-?! maybe wondered how i’m doing for a change!” you stare back at wooyoung, stopping your movements- feeling your tears come back as you try and finish your outrageous sentence, “m-maybe he came back because missed me..”

watching the switch in your emotions flip and turn into someone he’s never seen before made wooyoung call out to you again ever so softly. cupping your cheek as he furrows his brows together and searches into your glazed and fire filled eyes

“y/n..”

“i don’t know why… maybe i’d have someone close like my brother to.. i just” you ramble on then- abruptly pause and look down to the concrete discretely “i miss him-”

“i miss yeosang, wooyoung i don’t know what i was thinking, but when i saw hwa i thought things would be better.” taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes once more, “maybe he’d make me feel different..”

all this rush of emotions waving and thrashing into you made you blind to what wooyoung was going through, and when the silence stretched longer and the more you two just held your gaze- regret settled in your mind

“i’m sorry-“ you squeak out embarrassed, making your body move forward quickly ahead of him.

“this is so selfish of me woo- i’m so sorry”

pretending you don’t hear him call out after you walking away, wooyoung slowly jogs after you

your face is probably a sight to see with tear stained cheeks, puffy eyes and a bright blush.

it’s been awhile since someone had seen you cry, you always made sure to make it that way too. your mom didn’t need another reason to worry or feel stressed, and you find it awkward spilling your innermost emotions. but it was different right now- and you weren’t even sure as to why. maybe it really was because wooyoung had been a kind face and heart to you since the day you met. maybe it was because this was the first time to show him a different side of your usual composed self to him- and it was at a sense awkward but yet vulnerable and familiar.

“y/n!” he cries out to you, grabbing your hand in his tight so you halt your movement.

tugging on you hard, wooyoung faces you straight on and cups your cheek with his other hand. his face pulled into the expression of sadness and eagerness as he scanned yours- sub cautiously analyzing your lips and the way they quivered softly. oh how they looked so soft and delicate, how much he wanted you to erase that pout away with a small kiss- but nope, that's not happening.. it just can't.

“y/n why is it selfish?” he asks sadly “it’s not selfish in any way, you have every right to speak out about what you feel- it’s only natural!”

bringing your hand up to hover over his cupping your face, you trace small lines around his fingers as you try to calm your emotions. watching his lip tug with dried blood, you felt defeated- why was it that when wooyoung wasn't there you didn't feel so numb? why was it when wooyoung came, you felt so guilty and overwhelmed- like it's the only time you finally realize the outcome of something in the past?

“i'm sorry.. woo, everytime it seems- i just can't help but feel bad around you-” you pipe out warrily, looking over every feature of his face but his eyes, “you have so much more going on and i have no clue as to-”

“oh pumpkin.” he interrupts, scoffing out and letting go of your cheek to lift your chin up to him for a better view, making your eyes connect with his again “no worries! please i'm sorry to make you worry- i only slipped walking home earlier in the rain.. bashed my mouth right into a bar- pretty embarrassing right?” he giggles out his best. “glad no one was around to see that”

wooyoung could only think you were so overwhelmed seeing his face so he just went on about it, not referring to tell you about his home life yet… or really ever.

but watching the way his eyes flickered with this hidden emotion, you get the weird feeling that wasn't the whole truth he was telling you..

going up the steps to your porch- holding hands with wooyoung, you quietly open the front door. not wanting to wake your mom, because you’re coming home at such a late hour she’s probably in her study sleeping at her desk.

taking off your shoes, you release wooyoung's hand and head into the kitchen- when a piece of paper catches your eye.

on the walk home from the beach and following incidents, wooyoung made sure to comfort you until you were no longer on edge. holding your hand all the way home, giving it three squeezes every once and awhile- which you returned back joyously.

unfolding the piece of paper on the counter, you immediately recognize the handwriting to be seonghwa’s- making you quickly turn to look at wooyoung behind you. seeing he was busy untying his shoe laces you focus back to the note not paying attention to how your hands moved shakily.

“hey little lady,

i understand how things are going to be with us from now on. i’m sorry that it ended up like that.. i really thought it would have a different outcome- but nonetheless i hope you’ve made it home safely.

ah yeah— your mom didn’t actually suggest i’d see you.. i told her that you were the one who wanted me to come, sorry about that.

i understand that our relationship was different with yeosang around- i only wish it could’ve been more y’know.. you were always so cute y/n! yeah .. well i guess have your extreme fun with that freak jung wooyoung.. who lives off the deep end

i miss you already~

-seonghwa”

swallowing the unknown formed lump in your throat, you fold the paper back up and shove it in your pocket before woo can ask any suspicious questions. taking in a deep breath, you do your best with clearing your head- seonghwa had the audacity to apologize like it was nothing? why the fuck did he he bother writing a note to you? he used your mom as an excuse to get to you? and he fucking lied to your mom? this all.. this all was disgusting to you.

“you good y/n?” wooyoung chirps up behind you, ever so gently touching your waist- which involuntarily sent chills over your body

unawaringly jerking away from his hand, you turn to smile up at him. feeling yourself grow unexpectedly hot, and light headed- you push yourself back to lean against the counter.

“yep! all is good wooyoung- do you want hot chocolate?” you say, doing your best at not sounding wary.

the way he looks at you, cocking his head to the side- makes your body feel a little weak. hating the feeling, hazy and unaware of what you look like.

you speak again before he can even answer your first question, trying to present yourself with no issues.

“so.. the bonfire!“

hearing you mention that deal right now… after you just got done having a journey through emotions. wooyoung let’s out a light chuckle- one from your blushing face and two from your seemingly nervous demeanor and how quick you changed the subject. though the way your hands fiddled with the counter you were gripping tight didn’t go unnoticed by him and instead gave him worry. were you really okay?

“yes i would love some hot chocolate y/n…” he retorts back- then as he folds his arms across his chest, wooyoung shoots you a look of ‘i can see right through you’

“why mention the bonfire? i thought you didn’t want to hear anymore of it”

lifting yourself standing straight again, you accompany yourself with grabbing a mug out of the cabinet and hot chocolate packets.

“ah.. well i just guess it’d be nice, to uh have a little distraction? maybe..”

if wooyoung didn’t smile upon hearing that- he would have some problems. you, y/n- wanted to go out for a distraction? to the school bonfire? this friday? did he hear right?

“wait seriously pumpkin? are you joking?” he makes his way to your busy side.

watching you place the water filled tea kettle on the stove and empty the powder mix into the cups, he sees the way you’re a bit shaky. your hands busying themselves with whatever is by before you turn to him.

the two of your bodies closer than intended, as wooyoung’s knee brushed against your inner thigh it made you take in a deep breath and leave your mouth open slightly as he watched you.

oh how you looked right now- you were so oblivious to how wooyoung really felt about you. innocent was it? no. just not cared for properly, and he wanted to help so badly. your wide eyes and staggering breaths made him tone down a bit because… you’d just been harassed like four hours ago by an old ‘friend’ and that’s a dick move.

plus… even he was nervous himself, he didn’t know how you felt about him- and hell, this was just a bad time in general

“w-well yes… but only if i’m with you wooyoung!” you shriek out slapping his chest playfully, “i won’t go if you don’t- and i won’t go if you leave me, because you are literally the only person i like”

“wait. one. second… y/n, likes me??” wooyoung sings out teasingly leaning into your embrace, poking his tongue out as he smiles.

making you slap your hands over your eyes and whine out in embarrassment, you throw yourself into the crook of his neck.

“quit it… you know what i mean woo” you giggle out

all of this felt so natural, so familiar and you missed it. you missed this wooyoung, being so distant since yeosang’s deployment… you just wish this moment could be more.

yeosang said to stay away, and to not listen to him would make you the world’s worst sister- you loved your brother, very much. but. maybe, for once you could do something for you- for yourself

as the both of you slip into another long hug, your once hiding face now leaning into wooyoung’s shoulder while he softly grazes one of his hands down your side- stopping when he reaches your hip to softly squeeze. as he still holds your body close with his other hand, pulling you flush against him. your bodies so comfortable with each other, it was healing something going on inside the both of you… no longer were you nervous or scared, intimidated and embarrassed

then the tea kettle howled with its boiling water- and the two of you separated once more

did he feel bad about lying to you? yes. wooyoung wanted to be able to tell the truth, but as much as he wanted to be comforted because of it- he doesn’t want to bring it up to be seen differently. the rest of the night with you continued on with guilt, and it didn’t get better when you made jokes about him being clumsy and busting his face.

he would just laugh out and hit your shoulder, and it’d be forgotten with a sinking feeling in his stomach of really why he has a purple jaw and a split lip.

wooyoung even had to bring up a semi true story from his childhood in order to try and convince himself- and you that he’s okay- and has always been accident prone.

“i’m not kidding y/n! san literally just laughed during the whole thing!!” wooyoung squealed out trying to convince you of the one time he got dragged by san’s grandparents’s dogs on a leash and tried to ride a bike doing so.

which all didn’t end up well— having him crash the bicycle into a stranger's car and the dogs escaping throughout the street.

“wait who’s san?” you ask curiously as your laughter comes down

wooyoung’s face quickly lit up, bringing his hand to itch his ear- he spoke softly as if he needed to keep the subject light and happy, “ah, well he’s an old friend. my first friend actually!”

taking a short pause, wooyoung scoots himself further into the sofa with his hot cocoa in hand. while you hug your knees to your chest watching him get more comfortable.

“well before i moved anyway. san and i were very close and i consider him as my brother! i tried my best to always be there for him like he was for me”

you couldn’t help but feel yourself smile upon the description of wooyoung’s friend, he seems to be very important and it makes him happy

“you should go see him woo!” you tell him sweetly, poking his side playfully

causing him to snort out a stifled laugh and scold you for making him almost spill his drink

“ahh i don’t know, my dad wouldn’t let me i don’t think” wooyoung says before even realizes the words spoken and immediately feels cold as he sits straight and sets his mug down on the coffee table and looks at you

his quick movements scared you a little and his aura gave you worry

“you okay?” pulling your legs down from your arms, you lean over slightly and rest your hand on his now bouncing leg

something he does often- seeming to you when he’s nervous or uncomfortable

“oh yeah! sorry i just realized that we have school tomorrow y/n! and it’s late!” he hurriedly swipes off your hand and heads for the front door, giving out apologies

school? really? he was thinking about that? no way. wooyoung would never, he is one to stay up late any given time with someone who would love talking for hours! what’s going on with him?

“woo? you’re kidding? you can stay if you want- or i can walk you home”

upon hearing your offer he easily shuts it down and refuses politely, “oh no need pumpkin, it’s all good- thank you for the cocoa, i owe you!” and as he opens the door to the cold night air he waves out at last

“see ya tomorrow okay?”

the next day at school wooyoung arrived late

you too, were on the brink of being late- since you woke up with 15 minutes to get ready. not even getting a stomach full with breakfast

today wasn’t really settling right, wooyoung was giving you these vibes that were unfamiliar between the two of you

everytime you both were alone together he’d muster out an excuse and leave you there with these thoughts of sadness and … curiosity- it seemed at least

what did you miss last night that set things off differently?

was it because you asked about san?

it couldn’t be that, no. wooyoung looked like he enjoyed telling you about his great friend, you obviously could tell they’ve been through many years together

but, what was it?

what did you say and do to him that caused such awkwardness…

making your way into the hallway, the students dispersing in different directions- everyone’s voice canceling each other out, but you can’t help but hear wooyoungs.

turning the corner to the cafeteria for lunch break, you see him leaning against the vending machines- arm above his head, as he spoke through the phone

“yeah for y/n, but i don’t know… things might be weird, i sorta ran away from her last night.. whoops” he scoffs out, yet gives a soft laugh

you could tell just from his stance and the way his feet bobbed up and down from the sides of his shoes- that he was a bit on edge

“i probably wrecked it, i think i just made it weird..”

you had no clue as to who he was talking to, but you kind of felt bad invading his private conversation

so releasing the breath you were holding, you walked the other direction to take a different route and on your way away, something peaked your attention all over again

“i really wanted to stay with her last night-“

wait. wooyoung.. didn’t want to leave you? then why did he-

what was really stopping him from- wait.. hold on.. or was it rather

who was stopping him...

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez fic #jung wooyoung #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #wooyoung ateez #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung #ateez reactions #ateez blurbs #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #wooyoung series

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Powerful Ch. 2

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU*

Warnings: Misogyny (not from Shouta), a dagger, kinda fluffy

Word Count: 3.5 k

Author’s Note: This is turning out pretty good, I think. It’s turning into a kind of slow-burn ish thing, and as much as I can’t stand slow-burn sometimes, I’m liking it so far. If I’m being honest I feel like (hopefully) this is the thing that can help me get over my smut writing block. I haven’t been able to get myself to write smut for a while, and I’m hoping this can help me fix it.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Also, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I usually put in that little line spacer when there’s a pov change. You know, this one:

____

So yeah. And the three asterisks (except the ones at the beginning):

* * * Usually means a timeskip. If it’s unlabelled it’s only a short skip, anything over 24 hours I’ll label.

Enjoy~

Shouta woke you up, his rough hands rubbing your back and deep voice softly calling your name. When you let your eyes flutter open you realize you’re still on top of him, only your head is further cradled into his neck and your leg had found its way around his waist. The position had your face warming as you lifted your head and met his dark eyes.

“Good morning, little one.” He sounded groggy, like he’d just woken up himself. You pulled away and he released you so you could sit up. Off of him. You couldn’t quite hold his gaze, so you looked down at the bedsheets.

“Good morning, Shouta.” He sits up beside you, a hand grasping your chin and making you look at him.

“Am I too forward? Or are you afraid of me, little one?” You raise your eyebrows, not expecting him to really consider your own comfort.

“Can I speak freely?” He nods, and you take a breath.

“You are being just a little forward, but I think it’s only really enhanced because you’re known for being cold and unwelcoming. And also the fact that we only formally met last night.” His hand drops, and he waits for the second half of your answer. You take a moment to choose your wording, make sure you’re accurately communicating your feelings without offending him.

“While I do feel awkward and, frankly, small around you I don’t necessarily fear you. So far you’ve shown that you aren’t cruel, and though you are capable of some...violent things, I have no reason yet to believe you would be violent toward me.” A small smile tugs at his lips, a foreign thing to see.

“I assure you, I am not a violent lover. Nor will I ever be.” He reaches over and grabs your hand, lifting it to his face and leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. It’s a simple, sweet gesture that has your face and chest heating. Then he gets up and you follow him out to the living room where three large suitcases are waiting. Your suitcases, you realize, Mother and Father must have packed all your clothing and had them sent here. Shouta picks up two of them and you take the last one, returning to the bedroom.

“The closet has plenty of room, so go ahead and sort everything out. I’ll be in my office. Once you’re done just wait for me, we’ll be going out later.” You nod, and he’s disappearing into his office. For the first time, you take a good look at the room. Your room now, you remind yourself.

It’s large, enough to fit three more king beds with plenty of spare room. The king-sized mattress sits in a black frame that was built to look like it was hovering inches off the ground, fitted with light gray sheets and a large black comforter. The entire room is illuminated by lights embedded in the ceiling, the floor a dark hardwood that matches the doors to the bathroom and walk-in closet. A table sat on either side of the bed, both painted black to match the bed frame.

The walk-in closet is big as well, though it’s much brighter than the main bedroom. The floor is smooth white tile, a white center island with a glass top looking into the top drawers that held numerous watches and ties. Most of Shouta’s clothing seems to be folded, the suits and more high-end clothing the only pieces hung up. You filled the empty spaces with your own clothing, keeping everything organized like you had back at home. With everything tucked away, you decided it was time to change out of the robe, tugging on undergarments you missed those, a pair of loose sweatpants and a racerback tank top. Then you brought the now empty suitcases back to the living room and dug through the kitchen for some breakfast.

____

Shouta emerged from his office to you humming to yourself as you worked over the stove of bacon and pancakes. He didn’t even know he had bacon, let alone the ingredients for pancakes. It was quite cute, seeing you bounce lightly along with the tune you’re humming, spatula in hand. It’s a domestic sight, completely foreign to him. He leaned on the doorframe, choosing to admire you a while longer.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come get some food?” He blinked, slightly shocked, you hadn’t even turned around to see if he was there. You must have heard the door open, though he made sure none of the doors in his home creaked. It’s an irritating noise. He made his way over to you, hooking his chin over your shoulder and placing his large hands on your waist.

He knows he’s moving a little fast with the intimacy. He’d asked you earlier, though you said you didn’t mind, you were absolutely right that it’s weird being so close so soon. In all honesty, as long as you’re alright with it he wants to continue being touchy like this. He’s never truly had any interest in naming a partner, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want company. He’s been lonely for a long time, longing for someone to hold, and while he’s absolutely sure any woman would love to court him willingly, he wants someone special.

He can’t stand the women that throw themselves at any man with power and money, most of them only in it for their own gain. If he were to announce before the ball that he was looking to name a wife, he’d probably have had a line of fawning women on their best behavior to butter him up, flirting and smiling those too-big smiles in an attempt to get a rock on their finger and power to wield at their leisure. That’s why he’d decided to watch from afar, and you struck him as different the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

The more time he spent in your company, the more he’s commending himself for picking you. You’re one of the probable few that held a semi-neutral opinion of him, not fearful nor starstruck. You’re intelligent, well-articulated, and while you have your limits you tend to go with the flow, let the wind carry you this way and that. And you’re honest with him, he has no doubt you’ll tell him if there’s a boundary he crosses.

____

You’re grateful he can’t quite tell the state you’re in right now. Shouta’s hands on your waist flustered you, more than you care to admit. Sure, he’s advancing rather quickly, but you meant it when you said you didn’t mind. You’d been forbidden from dating, made to save yourself for the strategic marriage your father had planned. For the longest time you’d wanted to be held, touched and loved by someone. And here Shouta is, fulfilling all your teenage daydreams. He has no reason to be so close behind closed doors, where no one can see you, so he must feel some sort of real attraction toward you right? Otherwise he’d be more closed off, only opting to speak on his own terms and not caring at all about you or your comfort.

You shake yourself from your thoughts and the two of you sit at the dining table, quietly eating your breakfast. It is a little awkward, but you expected as much. Shouta, like you, probably isn’t used to eating with another person. You both finish breakfast soon, and once the dishes are washed Shouta startles you with his next words.

“We’ll be leaving in an hour or two for a lunch meeting with a few other clans.” You have to take a pause and think about what he’d just said.

“We? You want me to join you?” A part of you wants him to confirm it, another hopes he doesn’t.

“Yes, I want you there with me.” Cue your confusion.

“It’s almost unheard of, having a woman in a clan meeting.” As much as you hate the patriarchy and its traditions, they are still traditions that, once challenged, could upset many people.

“Let’s say I’m breaking the status-quo. If I’m going to have a wife, she’ll be wielding my power alongside me, not just existing as a means to further the bloodline.” It becomes apparent to you that Shouta, despite his position, is very much not traditional. You turn to him and lean against the kitchen counter, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So why have you chosen me? I’m the daughter of a very low-ranked oyabun, have almost no experience compared to you and I am most definitely not someone other oyabun would approve to be your wife, let alone leading the entirety of the Yakuza.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, crossing his own arms.

“I don’t care what other oyabun may think of me or my choices, they don’t dictate what I do. As for why I’ve chosen you, it’s quite simple. I’ve known you for less than a day and it’s already obvious to me that you can take most things in stride, without allowing it to affect you emotionally. You’re good at compartmentalizing your own thoughts, can keep a level head under pressure, and that’s exactly what I need.” Your own eyebrows raise, not expecting a read like that.

“And last night as I watched you, it was clear to me that you’re skilled at masking your emotions, especially nervousness or fear. Think about what any other woman would have done, had I walked up to them and asked their name. Before I could get another word out they’d probably drop to their knees and begin begging for their lives. Most would probably faint on the spot, pounce on me, or any other number of unsavory responses after announcing a sudden engagement to me. But you? You did nothing, simply answering my question and taking my hand with no theatrics.”

You nod slowly, mildly understanding his point. While it’s true you had almost no reaction, you’re almost sure there’d be at least a dozen other women in that hall that would have reacted the way you had.

“Still, there must have been many others that acted like I did. For me to be so completely unique is…” You trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Unlikely? Yes. Impossible? No. I trust my own judgement, little one, and you should have a little more faith in yourself. Now, let’s go get ready. I’ve already got a dress for you to wear. It’s only semi-formal, we’ll be going to a restaurant for this meeting.” You give a small sigh as you follow him into the bedroom.

All you can do now is go along with it, whether you trust his judgement or not. Suddenly being put in a position of so much power is stressing you out a little bit, but Shouta isn’t wrong about your compartmentalization. The stress could be dealt with later, right now you have a meeting to attend.

* * *

On second thought, maybe the stress should have been dealt with earlier. Standing outside the restaurant, wrapped around Shouta’s arm is making your heart pound in your chest. You’re unconsciously squeezing his bicep, and even as he looks down at you, there's nothing on your face to indicate your nerves. You’re completely deadpanned, eyes focused and mind working overtime. Shouta’s calloused hand falls over yours, a mildly comforting gesture.

“Don’t worry, little one. The most you’ll have to do is sit still and look pretty. I’m aware of your inexperience, I don’t expect you to be put on the spot. If you are and feel uncomfortable then all you need to do is tap my leg. You’ll be fine.” You nod. The pep-talk is appreciated, but it isn’t the meeting itself you’re worried about. What kind of backlash will Shouta be getting once you enter? What will be said about his reputation afterward? All you can do is wait and see.

You stride into the venue, and are led to a private room by a hostess. You can hear the casual conversation from the open door, but once you’re inside the immediate silence is unsettling. You don’t need to look directly at the half dozen men to know all their eyes are fixed on you as you both sit at the head of the table. Shouta quickly and smoothly brings the attention off of you.

“It’s good to see you, gentlemen. Let’s get this meeting started, shall we?” The tension in the room is still palpable, the clear discomfort from the men hadn’t vanished, but their main focus now is the subject of the meeting. You sit and listen carefully as they talk about several things, from natural disaster preparations to minor territory disputes. Some of the smaller syndicates under these oyabun had spread operations outside their borders, but that was quickly settled as most was due to small misunderstandings and unclear borders. Soon the meeting was nearly coming to a close, and suddenly Shouta left to use the restroom.

And now, you’re a lioness in a clan of hyenas.

You keep quiet, listening to their conversation and following along with the political debates to further familiarize yourself with the inner workings of the higher circle. Suddenly the table goes quiet, and you lift your eyes from the table to meet the gaze of six men that value tradition. Unsure what to do, you drop your gaze again, but don’t drop your chin, choosing to look down your nose at the wood grain. Shouta had told you to hold yourself as he does, and you make sure to try, but you know when to keep to yourself.

“Tell me, girl, what are you doing here?” You blink, not expecting to be confronted so blatantly. You look up at the man who had asked the question. He looks to be in his late forties, jet black hair graying at the temples and striking brown eyes aged and tired. He’s not thin, a little heavier-set, but it’s clear there was a point that he was fit and muscular. He’s already irked you. You nod your head, a small bow, before calmly answering.

“My name is (y/n). I would appreciate it if you could please use it, Oyabun. I am here because Shouta wants me to be here.” The man narrows his eyes at you, a small scoff comes from one of the others but you don’t avert your eyes to him.

“Well why does he want you here, girl?” The blatant rejection of your request made your blood boil, but you kept a pleasant face.

“I don’t know. If you wish to know you may need to ask him yourself, Oyabun. And please, call me (y/n).” You’re certain he won’t use your name, and you addressing it again will probably anger him, but you can’t care too much when you know you’re within your right to ask that anyone use your name. Especially when you yourself are using a title for the man.

“I’ll address you how I see fit. Just because you’re the Black Dragon’s fiance does not mean I will acknowledge you as anyone of importance.” Ah, that’s right. You had forgotten Shouta’s nickname. Black Dragon is the name people used for him, whether they were afraid of the man or in awe of him. You take an imperceptible, steadying breath. Misogyny is one of the few things that challenge your composure.

“I do not ask you to acknowledge me as a person who holds power. In fact, I am aware of my previous rank and understand that it was maybe unwise to have me here. All I ask is that you please use my name.” The near growl that escapes the man does nothing to your self-control, doesn’t even strike any kind of emotion other than irritation. At this point, the other five men seem to be siding with you, their gazes fixed on the rather aggressive-reacting oyabun with something akin to confusion.

“Do not talk back to me, girl! I should remind you of your place here.” The other men sit in shock as he rises from his seat and begins to circle the table. He must have had tunnel vision, because Shouta’s voice cuts through the room so abruptly he freezes, his eyes snapping over to the entrance where Shouta stands, glaring daggers at him.

“Touch her, and I will personally bury you six feet under.” The man is frozen in shock, almost in disbelief. He tries, albeit weakly, to get Shouta on his side.

“O-oyabun! I… This girl, she--”

“I believe she asked you to use her name. Politely, might I add.” He’d been listening? How long had he stood there?

“In fact, you should address her as Onna-oyabun.” Your breath caught at that, the same as the rest of the room. That title was a myth, a rarity in its own right. There were so few instances where that title was applied to a woman under such specific circumstances that it’s a mere legend today. The most recent was an old woman who had inherited her deceased husband’s clan, which was extremely small, and even that was long ago.

Shouta’s hand landed on your shoulder, his rough thumb drawing small circles into your skin. He was silent, waiting for the older man, or anyone in the room, to oppose him. You could feel his glare in the faces of the other clans’ oyabun, the intensity of it making even you uneasy. It felt like an eternity before Shouta spoke again, venom laced in every syllable.

“I’ve chosen to let you keep all of your teeth, in favor of keeping her from seeing what violence I’m capable of. Next time, I won’t be so gracious. It’s time to go, little one.” You bow your head quickly before taking Shouta’s extended hand and strolling out of the room.

In the car, it’s silent. You have every intention of apologizing for causing a scene, though you aren’t sure if you should speak here or at home. Shouta doesn’t leave you any options.

“What is it? There’s something bothering you.” How perceptive.

“I’m sorry, Shouta.” He turns his head, his expression questioning your intelligence.

“For what? For asking to be addressed in a way that isn’t demeaning? He had no reason to ask why you were there, let alone attempt to attack you like that. I always hated that man, you’ve just given me a reason to threaten him.” You did a double-take.

“You heard everything? How long were you standing at the door?”

“Ah. I put a bug in the metal piece on the front of your dress. I knew they might be unsavory toward you, and with me out of the room they were more likely to speak their minds.” You nearly gawked at him. No wonder he’d chosen your dress for you.

“You never went to use the restroom.” He shook his head.

“No, I didn’t. It is I who should be apologizing, little one. The entire ordeal was intentional, as much as I hoped it wouldn’t actually take such a turn. Though I will say I was serious about that title. I fully intend to marry you, and I intend to have you by my side for every meeting from here on out.” You suck in a sharp breath at that bit of information. Marriage seemed like such an abstract concept until now, having Shouta say it somehow made it all the more solid. And to join him for every meeting?

“As long as there are no more surprise incidents then I think I can come with you.” A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he squeezed your hand.

“Deal. Though I may need to do that a few more times just to keep some men in line.” You let yourself giggle, he must hate a few of the others as well.

“In that case I’ll help you. I was afraid he’d actually get me for a second there.”

“Really? You didn’t even react. What if I were a split second too late?” You smirked, a mischievous little tug at your lips.

“Well if you were too late he’d have at least one stab wound and be bleeding out on the floor.” He shoots you a bewildered look before you tug up the hem of your dress, exposing a large dagger strapped to your thigh. He can’t contain his laughter, throwing his head back and wiping away at a few stray tears once he can breathe again. You can’t help but laugh with him, and notice just how handsome he looks when he’s happy, or in this case amused.

“Wouldn’t that be an unpleasant surprise.” He chuckles a bit more, getting it all out of his system before looking over at you.

“Regardless, I won’t be letting them get that close. I’m sure you’re capable of defending yourself, and as much as I’d love to see you stab an annoying misogynist, the risk to your safety still remains. Not to mention he disregarded my warning last night. You’re untouchable, little one, he knows this and still thought he could touch even a single hair on your head.”

You let a small smile settle on your lips, lacing your fingers with Shouta’s as a comfortable silence falls between you.

******************************

Tags:

@inumorph

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #shouta aizawa mha #shouta aizawa bnha #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa bnha #aizawa mha

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haikyuu-appreciation-club · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, I was hoping to get an emergency request? I’ve been depressed and had my heartbroken a bit, so I’m kinda staying up at night just having bursts of crying fits, and so I was wondering if I could have some hcs of how Tsukishima, Aone, Ushijima, and Daichi would treat their s/o if they spent the night with them when they were crying on and off through the night. Thanks, and feel free to delete this if it’s not something you wanna do x

hey there anon!

im so sorry to hear that love, remember that it is 100% okay to cry and that every single thing you’re feeling is valid <3

my messages are always open (and ask box is too if you prefer to stay anonymous) xoxo

I hope you enjoy our bbys showing you some much deserved love :)

•Tsukishima, Aone, Ushijima, and Daichi Comforting Their Crying S/O•

warnings: mentions of mental health issues

genre: comfort + fluff

characters: tsukishima, aone, ushijima, daichi

•Tsukishima•

tsukishima was usually very snarky and playful when it came to your relationship

back and forth bantering was how you two showed your affection for one another

but when tsukishima heard your soft cries from beside him he knew that this was a time where he had to be more cautious with his words,

“Hey, what's the matter with you?”

you turned to look at him, eyes puffy and red, with hot tears streaming down your cheeks

you swiped at your face and offered him a forced smile,

“I’m fine Kei, sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep.”

he didn’t miss the slight shake in your voice with your attempts to lighten the mood

he tsked and flicked your forehead,

“I’m not an idiot Y/N, why are you crying?”

you casted your eyes downward, too embarrassed to face your boyfriend

it’s not as if you didn’t think he’d care or you were too nervous to open up to him but you didn’t want him to view you as weak or troublesome,

“I guess I just haven’t been feeling the best lately. I’ve been getting sad more often than usual without a reason and I don't really know what to do.”

tsukishima looked at you as you tried to stop your lip from quivering

seeing you like this made his heart hurt

he always hated seeing you so upset but he wasn't always the best at reassuring you during your time of need

he sighed, more towards himself then you, and pulled you into him

“Kei wha-”

“Quiet,”

“But what are you-”

“Y/N, save me the embarrassment and just cuddle with me, will you?”

your eyes widened at his statement, it was very rare for tsukishima to initiate something like this

but you didn’t complain, curling up next to him and wrapping your arms around his figure

soon after, the feeling of sadness washed over you once more as you tried to hold back your tears

you didn’t want to seem ungrateful by continuing your pity party

after all tsukishima practically leaped out of his comfort zone to help you

however, as you shook lightly in tsukki’s hold you felt his arms that were encasing you give a soft squeeze,

“you can let it out, it’s just us Y/N.”

once those words met your ears tears began flowing down your cheeks all over again

tsukishima held you, running his slender fingers through your hair until you fell limp in his hold, slipping out of consciousness

once he knew you had fully drifted off to sleep he placed a kiss on your tear stained cheek,

“I love you.”

•Aone•

aone was a very light sleeper, so he didn’t miss the light whimpers that escaped your lips as you lied next to him

at first he didn’t really know what to think, maybe you were having a nightmare or something of the sort?

but when he heard a sob rack your body he knew that wasn’t the case

aone wasn’t one to freak out over things, he was very composed and calm even in difficult situations

so, as soon as he sensed something was wrong he didn’t hesitate to take initiative

sitting up and gently shaking your shoulder, he spoke in a soft voice,

“Y/N.”

you turned to face him and immediately he could make out the tears staining your cheeks

he was never one to use his words, choosing to stay quiet for a vast majority of the time, but you didn’t ever mind

his actions had always spoken so much louder then his words ever could

you knew how much he loved you, it was displayed with every single thing he did

and when he silently tugged at your hand, lifting you away from the covers and into his warm embrace, you felt his love all over again

he lightly rubbed your back as you continued to cry into his chest, your arms lazily returning the hug

a part of you felt embarrassed being caught in such a vulnerable state but the way your boyfriend was caring for you washed away any feeling of unease

after a while, the soothing rhythm of aone’s large hand moving up and down your back brought you to a state of peace

however before the two of you drifted back off to sleep, aone tugged on your hand once more, pulling you out of the room

“Aone, where are we going?”

he didn’t answer you, just pointed in the direction of the front door

you were confused but figured it would just be simpler to comply with his unknown idea then to ask questions

aone pushed open the door and the cool air met the exposed areas of your body

you shivered a bit as you watched your boyfriend sit down in front of you, staring up at the night sky

he looked back and patted the spot next to him, signaling for you to join him

as you sat down, aone wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, letting his body heat warm you up

the two of you sat there watching the stars in each other’s company

it was nights like these where you were truly grateful to have someone like aone in your life

•Ushijima•

ushijima was never exactly good at understand emotions or comforting others

so when he woke up to hear you softly sobbing beside him, he didn’t know how to react

his first instinct was to ask your upfront what was wrong but he had been told many times before that he was too blunt and he didn’t want to make things worse for you

so, he lied there trying to figure the best way to approach the situation

that was until he heard you get quieter and quieter, and soon enough your whimpers grew silent

he was confused at first but he figured you just had a nightmare and decided to approach you about it in the morning

after squirming around a bit, trying to get comfortable, he finally settled by your side with his large arm draped around your mid section

he always loved these nights with you, it gave him the opportunity to be in your company without the constant worry of conversation

he knew you didn’t mind his silence but the nagging from his teammates had made him a bit insecure about his quiet nature

so, being able to just lay down and enjoy your presence was definitely a favorite moment for him

he began to drift off into sleep until he heard your quiet cries once more, the sound leaving a pang in his chest

although he was not the best when it came to feelings, he did not want you to go through your issues alone, so he sat up and turned to you,

“Y/N, what is wrong?”

you flinched at the sudden sound of his voice, not realizing you had woke him up,

“Oh, sorry Toshi. I just had a bad dream, that’s all. Don’t worry you can go back to sleep.”

“You had been crying earlier as well. Is there something bothering you?”

you had tried to hid your emotions from your boyfriend for so long, but iit wasn't as if you didn’t trust him or didn’t want to confide in him

you just didn’t want to worry him or make him feel awkward about the whole situation, which is why you had been trying your best to muffle your sobs

but seeming as the whole plan back fired, you had no other choice but to come clean,

“It’s just, I’ve been feeling kind of off lately. I don’t know exactly why but I just feel sad,”

you peered up at ushijima through damp lashes and watch as his brows furrowed at your words

quickly you cut the conversation short, already feeling as if you were bothering him,

“I’ll be okay though so don’t worry, lets lay back down, okay?”

you leaned back to snuggle into the covers when you felt ushijima grab your wrist

“Come with me.”

“Huh?”

he didn’t give you an answer as he hauled you out of bed and towards the bathroom

you sat yourself down on the floor as he kneeled in front of the tub, turning on the water and grabbing some bubble bath from under the counter

you watched as he prepared a bath, humming your favorite song subconsciously as he did so

soon enough he had finished, wiping his hands on his pants and turning towards you,

“Undress please.”

your cheeks flushed at how straight forward he was with his words but you complied none the less

once you had stripped yourself bare, he lightly grabbed your hand and helped you into the tub

he spent his time kneading your body, earning groans of satisfaction from you as he released the tension in your sore muscles

as he massaged some shampoo into your scalp he spoke up,

“I am not good with my words, you know this. But when I am feeling unpleasant, I enjoy relaxing like this. I hope you do as well.”

your heart melted at his statement

he always tried his best in your relationship, even though he was unfamiliar with the concept

“It feels really nice Toshi, I’m definitely feeling a lot better.”

“I’m glad Y/N.”

he paused his actions for a moment as he peered directly into your eyes,

“I love you very much.”

you smiled up at him as you brushed your fingers across his cheek,

“I love you too Toshi.”

•Daichi•

daichi had noticed something was a bit off with you this past week

you seemed quieter and less cheerful then normal

so it wasn’t a huge surprise to him when he woke up to you crying into your pillow

despite his anticipation, it still broke his heart to hear your soft whimpers as you clutched the fabric beneath you

daichi wasn’t one to hesitate when it came to comforting you

whenever you had been down he was always right there, ready to pull you into a tight embrace or place gentle kisses on your forehead

and tonight wasn't any different as he grabbed your shoulder and turned you so he could see your face

his fingers gently swiped across your cheek, collecting the tears that you had shed,

“Y/N, what's the matter?”

when it came to your boyfriend you had always felt this sense of comfort, even when you’d try to hide your emotions or go through things by yourself, he was always right there with you

so when he asked you that question you felt compelled to let him know the truth

“I-I don’t know. I just feel so empty and broken, I don't know what to do. I’m sorry Daichi.”

“Hey, there’s no need to be sorry babe. Life can get the best of us sometimes and I understand that. But remember Y/N, you aren't alone in all this. I'll be right by your side, always.”

you looked up at him and smiled at his words, letting out a soft hiccup as he cupped your face in his hands

“Do you wanna talk about it some more?”

you shook your head slowly

daichi brushed his thumb across your cheek and pulled you close, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead,

“Alright, do you wanna watch a movie?”

that suggestion received your immediate approval

you two always watched a movie at the end of your rough days, it was the perfect way to spend time with one another and get your minds off anything that had been bothering either one of you

you snugged up to daichi as the light from the laptop illuminated your faces

he wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss to the top of your head,

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Daichi.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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planetsano · 4 years ago

Text

push and pull.

prompt: bakugou has been neglecting the reader because of work. she can't handle that because all she wants is love and attention.

warning(s): ceo!au, major sugar daddy vibes, aged up, hurt/comfort, f!reader, softie baku at the end.

pairing(s): bakugou katsuki x reader

You definitely felt like a spoiled brat. Walking around the Gucci store with a pout displayed on your glossed lips and nose held high like nothing in the vicinity was even close to being decent enough for you. Heels clicking lightly against the marbled flooring as you wandered around. This was such a drag. Your manicured finger lazily traced a handbag on a display table, it was probably worth someone's salary but you weren't interested. Your eyes were locked on the handsome blonde man pacing back and forth outside the big glass windows of the store. He was angrily speaking into the phone stopping ever so often to insult whoever was on the receiving end.

That— that stupid jerk is Bakugou Katsuki, your boyfriend, and he pinky promised to spend the day with you uninterrupted. Meaning no work calls, no emails, no boring paperwork— just you and him spending time together. He even promised to buy you that new handbag and the matching shoes you’ve been absolutely dying for but here you were in your current situation.

Recently, Bakugou has been incredibly busy with work but you couldn't exactly blame him. He was the CEO of a very successful multi-billion dollar company. But these past few weeks felt like you could never catch him not answering a business call or typing some boring email. Attempting to get one kiss from him always led you to be met with a dismissive wave of the hand as he answered the call. You knew it wasn't wise to bother him any further because he did have a temper. You’ve seen countless people on the receiving end of his rage and you didn't want to be met with it. Though it was sexy at times, you never liked upsetting him so you just left him alone. Always feeling deflated and discouraged as you opened up a tub of your favorite ice cream. Stress eating. This happened on multiple instances over the course of nearly a month. Quite frankly, you felt unwanted and it was driving you mad.

Walking around this store, there were so many beautiful and luxurious things, but your heart wasn't in it. Shopping wasn't much fun without his hand in yours giving you his opinions about how a dress or shoes would look on you, helping you zip up your dresses and sneaking naughty makeout sessions in the dressing room. Don't worry, you knew you looked pathetic. All pouty and woe as me. My rich boyfriend isn't giving me attention, life is so tough… you could laugh at yourself right now.

You missed him a lot but you were understanding… as understanding as you could be. You wondered if it was selfish to feel this nasty feeling pooling in your chest and stomach. Was it selfish to feel.. neglected? Was it selfish to want to have him all to yourself for just a day?

Was he.. losing interest in you? Was there someone else? Surely work couldn't take up that much of his time.. Did you upset him recently and didn't realize? Feelings of anxiety and nausea started to bubble up within you.. You didn't feel well at all and started to get sick to your stomach the more you got caught up in your thoughts. You wanted to leave. Now.

You hastily exited the store to find Bakugou. It looked like he was just about to come back in to find you, but you stopped him in his tracks. Almost immediately he noticed how drained you looked. Like there was something bothering you. He thought maybe some had said something rude to you but before he could react you spoke.

“Baby, can we go home? I don't feel good..” You looked up at him with a frown, your dainty hand resting on his chest.

The car ride back was quiet. Bakugou noticed your sudden change in demeanor causing him to take more than a couple glances at you in the passenger seat. Usually you'd be so bright and talkative, ushering him to sing along to whatever shitty song you had playing but you were radio silent. Maybe you actually didn't feel good? He would make ure to have his assistant buy you some medicine.

Men are so clueless..

“You ready?”

Your eyes averted their attention from your reflection to the handsome blonde casually adjusting his cufflinks behind you. He looked absolutely stunning standing there in an all black suit accompanied with a red tie. It not only complimented his eyes beautifully, but it matched your sparkly red gown as well. It almost pissed you off how he could be doing the bare minimum and still manage to look that good. But now wasn't the time to oogle. You came up with the conclusion that if he wanted to neglect you then you’d give him a dose of his own medicine. You ignored his presence and picked up your favorite highlighter and a brush, dusting your collarbones lightly to make them pop.

Bakugou walked a few steps closer and you continued to focus on your reflection in the mirror. He leaned over to plant a single kiss on the end of your shoulder, then made a trail of light and soft kisses along your shoulder blade, to the base of your neck and finally to that sensitive part of skin just below your earlobe. It took everything in you, plus more not to give in to his affections, but you desperately wanted to melt under him. You were so incredibly touch starved, especially these days. You missed him, but at the same time you were so upset with him. You couldn't just give in the moment he realizes you exist again. Fuck him. You were supposed to be angry. Not needy.

“You look fuckin’ amazing..” His voice was deep as he whispered into your ear. You closed your eyes tightly and sighed deeply, quickly getting up from your vanity stool and brushed past him, not even looking in his direction. You didn't get far before Bakugou grabbed your wrist and pulled back towards him fully closing the gap between you two and secured an arm around your waist making sure you weren't going anywhere.

God, you could feel him staring a hole into your head as you looked off to the side avoiding eye contact at all costs. You just couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You’d break.

Bakugou grabbed your face with his free hand forcing you to look at him, temporarily squishing your cheeks and making your lips go into a kissable pout. His harsh crimson gaze was locked onto your doe like eyes making you feel incredibly vulnerable and shy. You hated the power he had over you. Something as simple as eye contact making your ears and cheeks flare up in the color red. The thoughts and emotions from earlier coming back all at once threatening to make you sick all over again.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He asked bluntly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and irritation from your behavior. He could see something was bothering you and it was pissing him off that you weren't talking to him.

“Nothing.. I promise..” You replied. “I'm happy! See?” You forced a smile on your face as Bakugou watched your bottom lip quiver and eyes water as you tried to pathetically convince him you were fine all while looking like a kicked puppy.

“You’re a shit liar. You're about to fucking cry.” Bakugou’s hand shifted to cup the side of your face. You leaned into the warmth of his hand

“Tell me what's wrong.” His voice was still blunt and expression still stern. He never wants to see you like this. Sure, you got upset or even bratty from time to time but he's never seen you in this state and it worried the fuck out of him.

“I-I.. I just-!” You struggled to find proper words to convey how you felt. His thumb rubbed your cheek gently somewhat calming you down and keeping you from hyperventilating.

“Breathe.” His voice and expression softened upon seeing you teary and vulnerable.

“I just miss you!” You blurted out. Bakugou looked down at you with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“You're so busy with work you seem to forget I exist, I don't say anything because I-I’m proud of you and I want you to be successful! I understand you're very busy but.. but is it too much to ask for thirty minutes of your time? Katsuki, I miss spending time with you-” Bakugou watched you pour out all your emotions and thoughts like word vomit.

Guilt hit him all at once like a fucking train seeing you crying because of him. He was the reason you felt like this and he wanted to punch himself in the face for not noticing how unhappy you were sooner. He did admit that work seemed to be the only thing he’s been about lately. Neglecting his love life, his friends, his family, maybe even his own health. Even holding you this close made him realize that he hasn't been.. this close in proximity to you in a while. He fucked up.

“I-Is there someone else? Is that it? My hair.. I can change it if you'd like. Do you still love me? I-” That was the final straw for him. He cut you off with a swift kiss to the lips. It surprised you but you almost immediately moved your lips into sync with his. The kiss was sloppy and too many emotions fueled it, but the most prevalent one was want.

Bakugou’s heart ached hearing your words. Of course he still loved you. Everything about you was perfect in every way, there was no way on Earth he would lose you over some random extra that probably only wanted him for his money and last name. The fact that you were so.. willing to change for him to make him happy because you were so in love seemed so... wrong. He thought that if anything he should be the one trying to make you happy. He couldn't give a fuck whether your hair was long or short, curly or straight, he loved you regardless. Your appearance was never a factor in his feelings for you. Only a bonus.

He pulled away from your lips suddenly and looked at you. Your eyes were puffy, mascara was running and your lipstick was smeared but you still looked beautiful. It was a look he particularly liked but, it was not under these circumstances. You were usually on your knees.

“Don't say stupid things like that.” Bakugou started.

“..I'm so shit at relationships..” He struggled with his words and you could see it in his face. He wasn't ever one to express how he felt.

“‘m sorry for treating you like a fucking stranger.. you know I love you. No one else could even hold a fucking candle to you, that shouldn't even be a thought in this pretty fucking head of yours.” He sighed.

“I don't fucking care about how your hair looks.. I only care about you.” He finished.

Your crying stopped at some point when he was speaking and you were only met with soft hiccups. Bakugou wiped the final few tears from your cheeks and left a kiss on your forehead.

“Stop crying over me. I'm not worth it.” He whispered against your skin. For some reason his words shocked you. Not worth it? You thought was worth all your tears plus more, what was he on about? Did he really think he wasn't good enough for you?

“You don't say stupid things like that either. You're worth all the good things in the world.” You said softly. Bakugou’s heart fluttered at your words and he almost felt himself blush. There was a comfortable silence before you spoke up again.

“Oh no,” You looked at the time. “We're going to be late to the event and I look atrocious” You looked up at him with a pout.

“Fuck it. They'll be fine without us. Those bastards are annoying as hell anyway.. Let's get dinner, yeah? You can pick where we go.” Bakugou proposed and you smiled.

“Let's go.” You stood on your tippy toes and planted a kiss on his lips.

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed this! For only 2k+ words I feel like I took forever to write this. I just wanted it to be up to standard.. feedback would be amazing. Also, my requests are open! Thank you for 100 followers! ❤️

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki imagine #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou

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patandpran · 3 years ago

Text

In Loathe With You

What happens if Taekyung confronts Shinwoo about why Shinwoo has been avoiding him since the incident in the library?

Aka the one where Shinwoo definitely doesn’t ‘hate’ Shinwoo. In fact, it’s kind of the opposite.

The way that Taekyung looked at Shinwoo terrified him.

Taekyung made Shinwoo feel seen. Like all the bullshit and layers of self-doubt and defensiveness were stripped away by Taekyung’s gaze alone.

Taekung looked at people with such intention, it was as if Taekyung was studying you like his life depended on it but Shinwoo soon realized it was more of a survival tactic that Taekyung must have developed to navigate social situations. The more he could gather in mere seconds, the more likely that Taekyung would be able to handle the interaction without too many consequences.

Shinwoo had felt something between them shift after Taekyung stepped into the way of the fight. The cut beneath Taekyung’s eye was a reminder that he put himself in harm’s way for someone that repeatedly declared that he ‘hated’ him and called him ‘annoying’.

Who did that?

It took Shinwoo some time to muster up the courage to call Taekyung and, in his own awkward way, thank him for the gesture. He couldn’t help but stutter anytime he was around Taekyung. He was so hard to read and decipher that it was both unsettling and fascinating to Shinwoo. It made him want to reach out into Taekyung’s mind every time they shared space and find out exactly what was going on for his peer.

So Shinwoo had bought a package of bandages.

…. With the intention of offering them to Taekyung as a sort of peace offering.

But then he encountered Daon and Taekyung in the library and Shinwoo’s confidence shattered into a million pieces. Shinwoo had seen the fondness that Taekyung looked at Daon with a million times before, whether it was students who wanted to date him or friends who looked up to him as if he were some sort of God on Earth.

Shinwoo knew he could never compete with Daon. Daon was warmth, sunshine and refreshing sweet tea while Shinwoo was ice, a cup of bitter coffee and a day inside escaping the rain. Daon was laughing and beaming smiles while Shinwoo was a comfortable shared silence and contemplation.

And it seemed like Taekyung had already decided what he wanted, despite the connection that Shinwoo had felt brewing between them. There was a part of Shinwoo that was shocked that someone like Taekyung would fall for Daon’s warmth but Shinwoo knew how hard it was to escape the power of Daon’s influence. Even Shinwoo had once felt trapped by his feelings for Daon but quickly realized they worked much better as friends.

So, Shinwoo took a step back despite what his instincts told him.

He kept his feelings to himself and started to rebuild the wall between him and Taekyung again so that he wouldn’t get hurt. It was better to feel nothing than to feel hurt. It was better to pretend to loathe someone than love them. The pain was more obtuse.

But Taekyung didn’t seem to appreciate the regression. A few days after the incident in the library, Taekyung cornered Shinwoo in the student council room during a study period that they both shared. Shinwoo regretted ever going to the student council room that day, knowing that Taekyung paid close attention to details such as people’s routines.

“Why are you ignoring me again?” Taekyung demanded bluntly, slamming his hands down onto the council table where Shinwoo was sitting.

This was another quality of Taekyung’s that Shinwoo admired. His need for transparency and honesty meant there was nothing left unclarified, as much as Shinwoo liked to keep things hidden. Taekyung tolerated no BS and Shinwoo found it quite refreshing.

“I-I’m not.” Shinwoo muttered in response and tried to avoid Taekyung’s piercing glare by pretending to study the form he was filling out.

“You’re not good at lying.” Taekyung accused and it somehow didn’t come across as an insult when he said it.

“Look, I’m trying to get this clubs form done so if you want something to entertain you, why don’t you clean the council room again?” Shinwoo deflected, hoping it would be enough to get Taekyung off his case. He really wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation right now.

Instead of taking Shinwoo’s suggestion, Taekyung rounded the table to the side where Shinwoo was sitting and sat in the chair directly next to Shinwoo’s. The sudden invasion of space made Shinwoo’s breath hitch in surprise and when he looked up to meet Taekyung’s gaze, he was shocked to see a look of resolve rather than frustration.

“I don’t know what I did to upset you, but whatever it was, I’m sorry.” Taekyung shared, his voice softer than before.

Shinwoo swallowed slowly, taken aback by the abrupt shift in Taekyung’s tone. “You didn’t do anything. Nothing’s wrong. I don’t know what you mean…”

“You started to open up to me.” Taekyung interrupted Shinwoo in earnest. “You called me! You apologized to me and you even started to greet me… but then, these past few days… it feels like it went back to how it was before. I don’t want to feel invisible to you anymore.”

The hurt was obvious in Taekyung’s words and the guilt quickly flooded through Shinwoo. The last thing he wanted to do was cause Taekyung pain. He had removed himself from the equation so that Shinwoo and Daon could pursue whatever was going on between them. He didn’t want to mess with what was obviously brewing between them. Plus, in taking a step back, Shinwoo was protecting himself too. But how could Shinwoo possibly explain this to Taekyung without revealing his feelings for him?

Because that was the crux of it all.

Shinwoo liked Taekyung.

And that was exactly why they had to go back to how they were before…. So no one got hurt.

“Is it because I heard the stuff your middle school friends said?” Taekyung surged on anxiously. “I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s none of my business, unless you want to tell me about it. I’m never going to push you to tell me things you don’t want to. I just… I want us to get along. I want us to be friends.”

The word ‘friends’ stung more than it should have but that was a pain that Shinwoo would have to learn to tolerate. He could see that the way he was treating Taekyung was doing more damage than it was worth. If Taekyung wanted to be friends, he could keep his feelings hidden as he had with Daon. They would soon dissolve into feelings of platonic affection..

But would they?

There was something innately different about how Shinwoo felt about Taekyung. His feelings were more visceral, like they lived deep within rather than just on the surface. They hadn’t known each other for long but Shinwoo’s feelings for Taekyung felt like they had always dwelled within, ready to rise to the surface when he first laid his eyes on Taekyung.

“Okay.”

That was all that Shinwoo could offer.

The weight of everything sat upon his shoulders and the image of encountering Daon and Taekyung in the library flashed in his memory, sending a pang of hurt through him once again. It spread through his body like a slight shiver as he kept his eyes on Taekyung.

“Okay.” Taekyung responded slowly, almost as if he didn’t believe what Shinwoo had set.

Shinwoo watched as Taekyung momentarily gathered his thoughts, hoping that the interrogation was over and he could at least pretend to return to his work and be left alone with his thoughts. But Taekyung didn’t seem satisfied with the conversation.

“You don’t have to answer but… what changed?” Taekyung asked and Shinwoo wished he had simply continued on with the ‘I hate you’ charade. It would have been easier than having conversations like this one.

“It seemed like, for a second there, that you actually might want to be friends with me.” Taekyung expressed and Shinwoo could hear the vulnerability in Shinwoo’s words. “But then it quickly went back to how it was before… what did I do wrong?”

Shinwoo sighed, letting his gaze fall to the table rather than having to face Taekyung. “Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong… I just… I think it’s best if we keep a distance between us.”

“Why?” Taekyung shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Shinwoo could feel the truth on the tip of his tongue but he knew honesty would destroy any semblance of a friendship that they had between him and Taekyung, especially given how Taekyung felt for Daon.

“I saw you and Daon in the library.” That was the only explanation that Shinwoo could offer but it only seemed to confuse Taekyung even more.

Taekyung turned his chair to face Shinwoo more directly. “Okay… but what does that have to do with anything?”

For someone so observant, it seemed like Taekyung had a blind spot to how people felt about him. It made the whole interaction both unbearable and embarrassing for Shinwoo but Shinwoo also knew Taekyung wasn’t going to let him escape until the matter was resolved.

“I saw how you looked at him.” Shinwoo explained slowly, the words feeling like poison as they passed through his lips.

“Huh?” Taekyung’s brow knit together for a moment before his eyes grew wide with realization. “You think I like Daon?”

The truth hurt already but hearing it directly from Taekyung felt like a slap across the face. Shinwoo didn’t know how to respond besides nodding and remaining silent as Taekyung regarded him intently.

But then Taekyung did something unexpected - he reached out and gently trailed his fingers across one of Shinwoo’s ears. The touch made Shinwoo become starkly still and all remaining thoughts disappeared from his mind.

“Your ears are red again.” Taekyung remarked softly, leaning in toward Shinwoo.

Shinwoo couldn’t help but let himself be caught up in the moment for a few seconds before his eyes fell on the bandaid that Daon had placed on Taekyung’s face. At that, he pulled away from Taekyung’s touch and turned his eyes away as well, feeling the shame flood through him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shinwoo saw Taekyung’s hand hover slightly before retracting it and touching the bandaid on his face. “Daon doesn’t like me. He takes care of everyone. You should know that by now, Shinwoo.”

Taekyung looked back to Shinwoo and blurted out, “But you like him.”

Shinwoo shrugged, “He’s nice to me. I think maybe I thought I did for a second but then I realized it was a different feeling…. It was friendship, not a romantic feeling or physical attraction. I’m just not used to people having any investment in me… he made me feel seen. But I understand the difference now.”

“How?” Shinwoo wondered, not even processing the relief that he was experiencing at hearing that Taekyung didn’t want to be anything more than Daon’s friend.

“Because of how I feel about you.” Taekyung admitted, the nerves clear in his voice. “Don’t you wonder why I was so insistent about finding out why you hated me? It was borderline obsessive!”

Shinwoo’s mind turned to static. He understood the possibility of what Taekyung was saying but it was too unbelievable to conceive that Taekyung felt the same as him, especially considering how Shinwoo had treated him.

“You want to be my friend.” Shinwoo expressed numbly.

“No, you don’t get it.” Taekyung was shaking his head in disbelief again before becoming still and solemn. “I like you, Shinwoo.”

For a second, Shinwoo thought he had heard Taekyung wrong or was imagining things. But then Taekyung kept talking, “Maybe that will make you hate me. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything but I just felt like something had changed between us and maybe...Maybe I don’t know how to have friends but what I do know is that I don’t want to just be friends with you, Shinwoo. I don’t expect anything in return, I just… need to be honest with you.”

“Honest.” Shinwoo repeated the word numbly as he was still in shock by Taekyung’s confession.

“Before I ever said anything.” Taekyung bit out.

Shinwoo realized too late that he must have come across in a mocking tone as a look of hurt crossed Taekyung’s face before he shoved his chair back to make an escape. An all too familiar shame was clear in Taekyung’s eyes as he moved toward the door of the student council room.

And even though Shinwoo was still in autopilot, his body leapt into action on his behalf, knowing that if he didn’t act now, he might lose Taekyung forever. The damage would be done if he didn’t make his intentions clear.

Shinwoo slipped in front of Taekyung and put his back to the door to block Taekyung from exiting. Taekyung took a surprised step back and tore his gaze from Shinwoo’s, letting out a huff of frustration. “I don’t need your pity, Shinwoo. I get it now. You hate me and that’s never going to change.”

“I don’t hate you.” Shinwoo practically whispered. “I never did.”

Taekyung looked urgently back to Shinwoo. “What?”

Shinwoo took a deep breath and stepped closer to Taekyung, raising his hand to gently run his thumb over the bandaid on Taekyung’s cheek. “I don’t hate you, Taekyung. I was… terrified of how you made me feel.”

“I don’t understand.” Taekyung murmured under Shinwoo’s touch.

“The weight of what I feel for you, it was too much.” Shinwoo explained slowly, articulating every word. “That’s why I acted like I hated you. I was awful to you because… well, you were overwhelming. I didn’t want you around because… well, I like you too, and I was scared of what that meant.”

Taekyung relaxed slightly, his expression becoming more open and curious than defensive. “But what does Daon have anything to do with this?”

“I was planning to bring you a bandaid as an apology for how I treated you after the fight.” Shinwoo answered, embarrassed about how he had handled the situation. “But then I saw you and Daon in the library and I guess.. I just didn’t want to get in the way of you too.”

“Like I said, there’s nothing to get in the way of.” Taekyung raised his hand to put around Shinwoo’s wrist and leaned his head into Shinwoo’s palm that was still cradling his face.

“I know that now.” Shinwoo shared with a relieved sigh.

And then something beautiful happened. Taekyung smiled at Shinwoo and something in Shinwoo melted. The walls of ice that he had worked so hard for so long to build up began to dissipate because of Taekyung’s mere presence.

“So… what does this make us?” Taekyung asked boldly, beaming at Shinwoo.

“It definitely makes us more than friends.” Shinwoo responded, a smile tugging at his own lips.

Taekyung leaned forward so their foreheads touched momentarily before he pulled back again. He had a satisfied look in his eyes and he teased, “Your ears are red again. I guess you really do like me.”

Shinwoo rolled his eyes. He could get used to this banter but he might never get used to the reality that Taekyung felt the same way he did and had been brave enough to share those feelings with him.

And, just like that, Shinwoo wasn’t so afraid of how Taekyung made him feel anymore.

#light on me #Korean bl #korean drama #kdrama

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kpop-reactions-and-texts · 4 years ago

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Pentagon Reaction to their S/O suddenly being clingy/emotional than usual

Request: can i request a pentagon reaction when their s/o suddenly starts getting more clingy and emotional than usual and them finding out it's because she's feeling down? thank you! :-) i love your writing

Hello sorry you had to wait this long! Thank you for loving my writing and I hope I didn’t disappoint you ❤️

Jinho: He would find it weird at first that you keep clinging on to him, but he wouldn’t mind it too much. Jinho would start matching your clinginess and hug you more often. He would notice that something was wrong when you were getting more emotional though. Jinho would watch you more closely to try and see if he could figure out what was wrong. He’ll probably wait for you to talk about it when you were ready. He’ll try to show his support silently and remind you that he was there for you no matter what.

“I don’t know what’s going on but I’m here. If you feel like you need to keep hugging me then that’s fine. But I hope you’ll come to me when you feel like crying too.”

Hui: He would be one of the members who knew something was up right away. As the leader of a Kpop group, he needs to be observant and constantly look after the members. So when you start acting more clingy than usual, he would know something is wrong. When he catches you crying, Hui would then figure out that you are feeling down. Hui would probably do little things to try and cheer you up. He’ll bring you flowers and take you on more dates in case you were just feeling lonely. He’ll bring you lunch at work so he’ll know that you are at least eating. He would listen to you when you rant about things that happen. In general, he’ll try to be more affectionate and wait for you to tell him what made you feel so down.

“Do you want to go on a date in the park? We can just go have a picnic and forget about our troubles.”

Hongseok: I think at first Hongseok would love that you were giving him more attention than usual. He would find it cute that you were being clingy and it made him feel more loved. Hongseok would know you were feeling down when he noticed that you were getting teary-eyed a lot. It made him feel horrible that he didn’t noticed right away. He’ll be torn on whether or not he should approach you on what was bugging you. He didn’t want to force you to talk when you weren’t ready, but he did want to try to help you. In the end, he’ll wait for you to approach him but he’ll remind you that he is here for you.

“You don’t have to tell me why you are feeling down, but just know I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

Shinwon: I think Shinwon is the type of person who will tell his S/O everything. He wouldn’t be the type to hide what he is feeling. So I think he’ll notice right away when you are feeling down and be confused on why you didn’t come talk to him. He’ll let you be clingy and probably try to show more affection back. If he noticed you were being emotional and start crying then he’ll wipe the tears away without saying anything. He wouldn’t know what to do to make you feel better or get you to tell him what was bugging him. Shinwon would decide to just let you be for awhile and would intervene if he sees that you were feeling worse. He would trust that you’ll come to him if it was serious.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. We can just lay down and cuddle if that’ll make you feel better.

Yeo One: Changgu would probably notice right away that you were feeling down. Changgu is the type of boyfriend who really loves his S/O and will notice everything about them. He’ll probably be just as clingy as you are being. It’ll hurt him to see you feeling down and he’ll cry when you do. He’ll cuddle you and hug you every chance he gets to try and lift your spirits at least a little bit. He’ll be patient and wait until you tell him what was making you so upset. In the meantime, he’ll just spend his time making you feel loved. He’ll let you cling to him, cry, and just do whatever you want.

“I don’t like seeing you cry but if you feel like you need to then go ahead. My shoulder is always here for you to lean on.”

Yanan: He wouldn’t understand the sudden change in your behavior at first. He’ll probably give you a weird look if you cling onto his arm or suddenly pull him into a hug. He’ll let you do it because he loves you and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. It’s when he catches you crying that he realizes you were most likely feeling down. It made him feel bad that he didn’t catch on to your feelings. He’ll start giving you more affection as well. He’ll tell funny stories or jokes if he sees you become emotional. He’ll hold you when you decide to rant about what was making you feel that way. Yanan will pretty much let you do whatever you want if it meant you felt better in the end.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t notice you were feeling down. I’m always here for you though. So if I need to act as your teddy bear then so be it.”

Yuto: He will be the most confused on why you were suddenly feeling clingy. He thought maybe he hasn’t been showing you as much affection and that’s why you resorted to clinging onto him. Yuto would try to be more affection and take you on more dates. He definitely would enjoy spending more time with and seeing this affectionate side of you. It was until he realize you were being more emotional as well that he figured something was wrong. It would make him sad to see something was affecting you that much. He would try his hardest to try to cheer you up, and try to take your mind of things. Yuto definitely wouldn’t stop until you were happy again.

“How can I help you? Do you want to go out and forget about it? Or do you want to talk about it? I’ll do anything as long as I can see your smile.”

Kino: He would definitely be the one who would match your energy the most. If you were being really affectionate and clingy, then so would he. If you were being emotional and started cry, then he would follow suit. You wouldn’t even need to tell him that you were feeling down since he would already know. He would definitely be more clingy than you were even being. Kino would think since you were being a little more affectionate that maybe that was helping you feel better. So there wouldn’t be a day where Kino wasn’t hanging off you until you were feeling better. Kino would love his S/O a lot so nothing would stop him from doing absolutely everything in his power to make you feel happy again.

“I don’t know what is making you feel so down but it doesn’t matter. I’ll always be here to make you smile again. And I’m never leaving.”

Wooseok: Wooseok would be one who is most worried about his S/O. He would notice the change in your behavior right away. He thought maybe you were just having a bad day so he let you cling to him, and held you when you cried. However, he became extremely worried when he notice you were still feeling a bit down. He wouldn’t really know what to do besides letting you do whatever you wanted. He would try his hardest to cheer you up. He’ll plan special dates, he’ll cook for you, and bring you gifts in hopes that he’ll get a smile. The poor man would worry if any of this was helping you in the slightest. All he knows is that he loves you more than anything so he’ll keep trying to make you happy.

“I don’t know how to make you feel better. But I hope I am. If there’s anything you need just let me know.

#pentagon reactions #pentagon #kpop reactions #kpop

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cherienymphe · 5 years ago

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Unhappily Married II (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: eventual NON-CON, dad!Steve, age gap (reader is a 20 something college student so that could range from undergraduate to graduate and Steve is late 30s), slight college!Peter x reader

DNI if this offends you!

summary: your dream job becomes a nightmare when your employers reveal their true colors.

{also thanks for 1k!}

You woke up the following morning by the feel of someone gently shaking you awake. It took you a minute to get your mind right enough to open your eyes, squinting at the sunlight that was pouring in through the window. You blinked a few times, adjusting to what was in front of you before frowning in confusion.

You pushed yourself up to lean back on your elbow, reaching out to the smiling baby as he slapped his tiny hands against your arm.

“Nathan? How did you get in here?” you asked him, taking him into your arms as you fully sat up.

“He was being a handful and wanted to see his favorite person.”

You jumped a bit, startled by the voice, and turned to find Mr. Rogers leaning against the doorway…the open doorway. He was only wearing sleeping pants, and your skin pricked.

“Oh,” was your only response.

You swallowed, returning your gaze back to the blond baby as you ignored Mr. Rogers’ gaze.

“I made breakfast, so whenever you’re ready you can go ahead and come down,” he said, straightening.

“Um, Mr. Rogers,” you called before he had the chance to walk away.

He looked over his shoulder at you, eyebrow raised.

“I uh…I have the worst habit of locking my door,” you chuckled. “Even in houses that aren’t mine, and I could’ve sworn I locked it last night. It’s juts a thing I do, and I-.”

“No,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he jiggled the door handle. “You must have forgot. It was unlocked this morning.”

He was lying. You knew he was lying. You remembered last night, how he tried to get into the room for whatever reason but couldn’t…because it was locked.

“Oh. You’re right, I must have forgot,” you murmured.

He chuckled, shaking his head at you.

“How else would I have been able to bring Nathan to you?”

“Right,” you agreed.

“Come on. You don’t want your food getting cold…”

You stared after him for a bit when he walked away, eventually turning your wide gaze to Nathan. You bounced him for a bit, a small sigh escaping you before standing with him in your arms.

You could hear humming coming from the kitchen as you descended the stairs, feeling awkward in Mr. Rogers’ t-shirt and boxers. His back was to you when you entered, and you careful slipped Nathan into his highchair, brushing your thumb against his cheek as he gurgled at you.

“Um, Mr. Rogers,” you began.

He heaved a sigh, and you closed your eyes, cursing yourself as you knew what was coming.

“Y/N,” he chided as he turned around.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” he said, setting your plate down in front of you.

“N-no. I-.”

“Do you have something against calling me Steve?” he questioned, placing his hands on the counter as he stared you down.

You shook your head.

“No, of course not. It’s just a habit-!”

“Well, kick it.”

You reared back a bit, eyes widening at his sudden harsh tone. You waited for him to crack a smile, laughing at his “funny joke” but he didn’t. He just held your gaze, raising an eyebrow when you didn’t respond.

“Sorry…Steve…”

He hummed in satisfaction, backing away as he went to prepare Nathan’s bottle.

“So what is it that you were going to say, Y/N?” he questioned over his shoulder.

“I was just wondering about my clothes,” you answered.

“Oh, they’re in the wash. I wanted them to be fresh for you when you got ready to go.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, grimacing as you decided to dig in.

“I told Peter to get me at 10,” you said.

You watched him glance up at the clock, and you did again too, noting that you had maybe 15 minutes before Peter showed up.

“Well, they aren’t going to be dry for another 45,” he said, shaking Nathan’s bottle as he turned around. “You can get them next time.”

You glanced down, fingering the black boxers.

“Well, what am I supposed to wear?”

He glanced up at you, the corner of his mouth curving upwards just a bit.

“What you’re wearing is fine. Just go home in my clothes,” he said, handing Nathan his bottle.

“Right,” you murmured. “You could’ve just given me something of…Sharon’s, you know.”

He scoffed a chuckle, facing you as he leaned against the counter, arms folded over his chest.

“If I could have, I would have, but Sharon doesn’t own anything regular in her closet. If she isn’t sleeping naked then it’s in some fancy negligee that’s more for show than practicality. You’ll thank me later.”

You blinked, uncertain if that was true, but nodded anyway.

“Thank you again. The next time you come, this mess with Sharon should be sorted out,” Steve said, hand grazing your back as he led you to Peter’s car.

He opened the door for you, and you quickly slid in, ignoring Peter’s curious gaze. Steve leaned in the window, smiling at you and Peter.

“Good to see you, Peter. I took good care of her, don’t worry. She’s all yours, safe and sound,” he teased.

Peter chuckled in response, but you could tell that it was forced. The both of you waved Steve goodbye, and there was the tensest awkward silence after Peter rolled up the window. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you as he took in your state of dress.

“Y/N…”

“Just…drive, Peter. Please. We’ll talk about it when we get home,” you begged.

He stared at you for a few more seconds before eventually sighing and doing what you asked.

The drive felt shorter than usual, or maybe that was just your busy mind going over everything that had happened over and over again. You wanted to be upset with Sharon, but you understood. She was upset, probably overwhelmed, and it was probably an impulsive decision to not return home.

However, according to Steve, her behavior last night wasn’t uncharacteristic, but who’s to say he was telling the truth. He was a cheater and a liar. Still, you wished that she had called you to let you know. You had been worried.

On top of it all, Steve was acting…weird. You would have written it off to just your imagination, but… You had locked that door last night. Hadn’t you? You were half asleep last night. You could have imagined the whole thing. You suddenly shook your head. No. No, you had definitely locked it after he had left your room.

Maybe…maybe it wasn’t a very good lock. That was a thing with doors sometimes, right? Maybe it malfunctioned or something when he went to open it this morning, and it just…opened. That happened sometimes. You blinked when you realized that the car had stopped, probably for a while, and Peter was staring at you.

You turned to look at him, and he frowned.

“Are you wearing Mr. Rogers’ clothes?”

You huffed a sigh, getting out of the car. Peter followed suit, walking around to meet you as you walked towards the apartment.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, I am! You can see that, can’t you?”

Peter’s frown deepened, hurt seeping into his eyes at your harsh tone. Your heart clenched, and you swallowed, eyes stinging with tears.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. “That… I didn’t mean for that to come out like that.”

“Hey…hey…”

You dropped your head into your hands, shoulders trembling. Peter wrapped an arm around you, opening the door with his other hand as he ushered you inside.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened last night?”

Peter grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your face before wiping your cheeks.

“It’s Steve,” you whispered.

Peter froze, face hardening.

“What about Steve? What did he do?”

“He’s… He’s cheating on Sharon,” you quietly confessed.

His eyes widened, lips parting a bit.

“What?” he gasped in disbelief.

You nodded, sitting down on your couch.

“Sharon found…something that didn’t belong to her. She thought it was mine and confronted me, but it wasn’t mine. Peter, it was someone else’s,” you said, looking up at him.

Peter sighed, sitting beside you.

“She was so upset that she didn’t come home, last night.”

Peter ran his hands through his hair, taking everything in.

“…and…and now Steve is acting weird-.”

“Weird how?” he asked, lifting his head. “You think he knows that you know?”

“No, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Not that kind of weird.”

He was fully facing you, now, eyes hard and searching.

“What kind of weird then? Y/N?”

You opened and closed your mouth, unsure of what to say.

“I could just be imagining things-.”

“Weird how?” he repeated.

“He gave me his clothes to sleep in, Peter,” you sighed out as if that was explanation of enough.

Peter ran his eyes over you, pursing his lips as he eyed them again.

“Yeah…I noticed.”

“He said that Sharon didn’t have any regular clothes, but I don’t know if I believe that, and…”

You trailed off, wondering if you should tell him about the door incident.

“…and what?”

You shook your head.

“Nothing. He’s just acting strange,” you whispered.

Peter sighed again, rubbing the back of your neck, thumb grazing the skin underneath your jaw.

“I think you should quit,” he eventually suggested.

“Peter, I can’t-.”

“Y/N, your employer is cheating on his wife. You are their babysitter. This is going to get messy, and if you don’t think you’re going to get caught up in this, you’re wrong.”

“Peter, I need the money.”

He huffed, pausing his ministrations. He relented, hesitantly nodding.

“Yeah, okay, okay. We’ll see what happens, but Y/N…”

You looked at him, giving him your full attention.

“The minute this involves you…the very minute you start being affected? You are out of there,” he said.

You nodded in agreement.

“Okay.”

You kissed Peter goodbye, stepping out of the car. You waved to him when you got to the door, watching him drive off with a sigh. You hesitantly knocked, and your eyes widened when the door was opened by none other than Sharon.

“Mrs. Rogers!”

You threw your arms around her, and she gasped in surprise before releasing a chuckle. She returned the hug, bringing you inside.

“You’re back.”

She threw you a tense smile.

“I am,” she said, leading you through the house. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. It was a spur of the moment decision.”

“I completely understand! No, really, I get it. I was just so worried,” you said as she pulled you through the kitchen and to the back of the house.

She chuckled, but it didn’t seem sincere.

“There’s really no need.”

“Are…are you okay?”

She stopped just outside of the double backdoors, facing you with a small smile.

“I will be. Steve and I are working it out,” she replied, eyes focused entirely on you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that. Infidelity was a deal break for you, something you could never get past, but they were married…with a son… Things were different for her. She had much more to consider than you did, so you simply returned her smile.

“That’s…good.”

She didn’t reply, instead turning around to push the doors open. You jumped, eyes widening at the backyard full of people all yelling ‘surprise’ in unison. You pressed your hand to your chest, blinking a few times as Sharon dragged you into the backyard.

“Um… What…?”

“I felt so awful about last night, so I arranged a last minute get together to celebrate your next semester abroad,” she explained, hands gripping your shoulder.

“It is indeed something to celebrate,” a familiar voice said, slinking up beside you.

You turned, watching as Steve held a drink out to you, and you hesitantly took it.

“Thank you,” you said. “I know it’s supposed to be a surprise, but I wish that I had known. I would have made Peter skip class.”

Sharon chuckled, and Steve only smiled.

“Like Sharon said, it was incredibly last minute,” Steve replied as Sharon pulled you along to greet their friends.

You felt a little out of your element, surrounded by people you weren’t familiar with, aside from your employers. You recognized Tony and his wife, Pepper. You also recognized Sam, Natasha, and James from that day at the mall too. Everyone else were entirely new faces.

You mingled though, finding yourself quite comfortable with a woman named Wanda and her brother, Pietro. You appreciated the grand gesture, and while you definitely enjoyed yourself, you wished Peter was there with you.

Sharon was ready to kill you yesterday for thinking you were the one to be sleeping with her husband. You found it odd that she was too upset to even come home last night only to spend the next day coordinating a get together with her husband.

You pulled away from the gathering for a moment to step inside. You claimed you needed to use the bathroom, but you really just wanted a moment to yourself. You took the time to text Peter, telling him of what was going on, wishing he was there. When he didn’t reply, you figured he was in lecture, and opened the door with a sigh.

You lightly gasped as you nearly ran into Steve, standing in the hallway outside of the bathroom. You stumbled a bit, and he reached out to steady you.

“Sorry. I was-.”

“Texting Peter?” he lightly questioned, raising an eyebrow at the phone in your hand.

“I was just telling him about the party,” you replied, trying to discreetly get out of his grip.

Were you crazy or did his hands tighten around your arms?

“I’m sorry he couldn’t be here, I know you would have wanted that, but Sharon was insistent upon doing this today,” he apologized. “When she dropped Nathan off at her mother’s this morning, I knew there was no stopping her.”

You paused, realizing that Nathan was absent. You had noted it earlier but had forgotten to ask. You had assumed that he was asleep upstairs or something.

“Nathan’s not here?”

He shook his hand, a blond strand escaping to kiss his forehead as he eyed you.

“Sharon wanted to make sure you showed up,” he said with a shrug.

“Right,” you said, taking a step back, but he only followed, still holding you.

The hallway was dark, the sound of the party muffled. It felt like the two of you were somewhere else entirely, and with how big the house was, you might as well have been. You felt your heart race and fear started to creep in as he ran his eyes over you.

“Mr. Ro- Steve. I should get back downstairs-.”

“I know what Sharon told you,” he interrupted, voice low.

Your eyes widened, and you glanced away, down the hall as if someone would come up the stairs to save you.

“I don’t…” you trailed off at the look on his face.

“I know you think I’m a lying cheat, but that’s only half the truth,” he began, one of his hands sliding upwards to rest where your neck and shoulder met.

“I-.”

“I didn’t cheat on Sharon,” he murmured, looking down his nose at you.

You frowned in confusion, nervousness growing as he pushed your back against the wall.

“She only thinks I did…”

“What?”

“She won’t give me a divorce, so I had no choice but to force her hand,” he confessed.

Your frown deepened, disbelief and shock and disgust flowing through you all at once. This was a conversation that you definitely shouldn’t be involved in, but your shock outweighed that thought.

“That’s…cruel.”

“That’s marriage,” was his simple reply. “Only now she wants to work something out.”

You glared at him, jaw clenching as you fully realized Steve Rogers was not the man you thought he was.

“That’s because she loves you,” you spat. “She was so upset yesterday-!”

“I thought she only seemed upset?” he questioned, tilting his head at you.

You swallowed, glancing away. You jerked when he reached up to gently grip your chin, eyes widening at him as he leaned in. His nose brushed against yours, and you squirmed in his grip.

“You’re so sweet, Y/N. Truly a Godsend to this household…to Sharon, and yet you have no idea what she’s willing to do to keep up the façade,” he murmured, pressing himself against you.

You pushed against him, but it was futile.

“W-what are you talking about? Get off of me-!”

You yelped against his mouth as he kissed you, pinning you to the wall. You wiggled in his grip, but he only held you tighter, groaning against your lips while he groped you. He pulled your leg to rest on his hip, and you beat your fists against his chest.

“Steve,” you gasped into his mouth, salty tears running into your lips as you pushed against him.

One of his hands palmed your breast, and you turned your face away. His soft lips dragged along your neck, brushing your ear.

“I always thought you were so cute,” he mumbled, breath ragged. “…but you had just been holding out on me.”

You shoved against him.

“I hardly recognized you that day at the mall. Is that how you normally dress for Peter? How lucky he is,” he mused, turning you to face him, pressing his lips against yours once more.

You could feel his hard length pressing into you, and you pushed his head away, opening your mouth to scream when you were interrupted.

“Steve?”

The familiar voice came from the bottom of the stairs, and Steve pulled away from you with a quickness, leaving your head spinning at the abruptness of it all.

“Yeah,” he called back, walking away from you and towards the stairs.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Sharon asked.

You were frozen against the wall, trembling as you stared at the wall in front of you. Steve glanced back, and he caught your eye, a small smirk on his face.

“I was just looking for her actually, but I think she’s in the bathroom,” he said, descending the stairs. “I heard her talking so she must be on the phone with Peter.”

“Oh, how sweet. I feel awful that he couldn’t be here, I just wanted to throw this so badly…”

Her voice trailed off, and you didn’t know how long you stood there, fear and horror coursing through you at what had just happened. You eventually straightened, hesitantly descending the stairs.

“Y/N, there you are! I was just looking for you,” Sharon said when you entered the kitchen. “Steve told me you were talking to Peter.”

Steve was there, leaning against the fridge, and you eyed him.

“Uh…yeah. I don’t feel really good, so I think gonna go-.”

“No,” she pouted. “That’s horrible. Wait just a few minutes, and Steve will take you-.”

“No! No, that’s way too much trouble. I’ll just call Peter back and tell him-.”

“So he isn’t on his way then? Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. You said so yourself that he’s in class. Steve will drive you home.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she waved you off.

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You feel unwell, so Steve will have no problem making sure you get home,” she said, opening the cabinet. “Let me fix you some food to go.”

You glanced at Steve while her back was turned, immediately looking away when you found his dark gaze already on you.

tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @kellyn1604 @mcudarklibrary @darkficreposter @villanellevi @xoxabs88xox @harringtonsblackgf @sebabestianstan101 @notyourtypicalrose @opheliadawnwalker3 @readermia @everythingstucky @ironlady1993 @guardingstarlord @lovelymoonkiid @esistmon @sweetbvcky @mavelfanatic @beeeb05 @mrsdeanwinchester19

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #marvel #Dark Fic #dad!steve rogers #dad!steve

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twink-appreciation-posts · 4 years ago

Text

Human Behavior - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter thirteen of “all bets are off”

feelings are so complicated i think we should just abolish them, everyone feels nothing forever.

warnings: semi-public stuff, teasing, angst, feelings feelings feelings, spencer is lowkey an asshole but it’s okay bc it’s hot

“Hey, if it’s not too much trouble, wear a skirt tomorrow.”

Those were Spencer’s final words to you that night as you walked him out of your apartment. At the time you had barely responded, still feeling quite upset about nothing, but when you awoke in the morning you felt a bit bad about kicking him out, so you opted to at least do something nice and follow his instructions.

You tugged at the skirt a bit as you walked into the lobby of your office building. “You listened.” Spencer grinned as he noticed you walking in, approaching you. You gave him a tired smile, wishing you had had a bit more time to prepare before being thrust right back into the fire that was your interactions with him.

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t wanna deal with being reprimanded all day for not doing what you asked.” You replied a bit too snappily. Spencer looked at you quizzically.

"Are you okay?” He asked, seeming confused.

You nodded. “Totally fine, Spence. Tired, but fine.” You assured him. It was true. You were fine, your head just kind of… hurt? Like a bit of a physical headache, but also just mental exhaustion. Damn. You hadn’t taken into account the fact that rough sex for a week and a half could cause some fatigue. Oh well, you had dealt with worse in your life.

Spencer hesitated, analyzing you. “Are you sure?”

“100%.” You fiddled with the fabric of your shirt.

He frowned a bit, not quite believing you, but not wanting to push it. “Well, hey, I have something to give you!” He perked up a bit, and you found yourself perking up as well. A present? He ruffled through his bag. “Take the stairs with me?” You tilted your head curiously and nodded, treading behind Spencer as he walked into the stairwell. He pulled a little box out of his bag, and you watched, eyes locked on as he opened it to reveal a dainty little choker. You felt all sorts of emotions, the overwhelming one being confusion, seconded by some form of excitement.

“What’s that?” You asked, a stupid question considering it was obvious.

“A gift.” He grinned, picking it up out of its box and allowing you to take a better look. “I know you said something about one with a little bell, I was considering maybe taking it a step further and adding a tag with my contact information in case you get lost,” He teased, and you felt yourself turn pale. Oh yeah, you had teased him about a collar. But this? You should have been embarrassed, but it was kind of pretty. And it was a gift. From Spencer. Spencer had bought you a gift. You blushed. “But, I thought this would be a bit more suitable for day-to-day life. A bit more subtle.”

You nibbled your bottom lip a bit. “Ah, so this is the notorious collar I’ve been dreading?” You chuckled a bit. “It’s um, it’s kind of pretty. Definitely not as bad as it could have been.” You stuttered.

“Can I put it on you?” He asked, almost excitedly.

You couldn’t help but grin. “Am I allowed to say no?”

He laughed. “You are, of course, but if you do accept this gift, there are some rules that come with it.”

“Oh, hooray. More of your infamous rules!” You exclaimed sarcastically. “Can I ask what they are before I let you trap me in them?” You questioned.

“Of course,” he tucked your hair behind your ear gently. “You should keep the collar on at all times unless you get my permission to take it off. This doesn’t include when you shower, of course, but even when you’re at home alone or at work it should stay on.”

You considered this for a moment. “What about when I sleep?” You asked.

“I think it should be more than comfortable to sleep in, but if not we can talk about it.” He assured you, fingers running over the fabric of the choker.

You shrugged in defeat.“I guess the only way to know is to try it on, yeah?”

That was all it took for him to move towards you, clasping it around your neck. Your hand went up to touch the new jewelry. “Velvet,” you chuckled knowingly, fingers grazing the soft fabric. “Still your favorite, huh?”

His eyes were locked on your neck, “It looks good on you, what can I say?” His breathing became a bit heavier as he took in the sight.

It was almost weird seeing him so openly affected by you. You felt a surge of power. “Mm, I think this whole collar thing was more for you than me, huh?” You teased.

“I like seeing you wear a physical reminder of who owns you.” He admitted, running a hand through his hair.

You had one goal in mind as you watched him grow more flustered by the second. “Of course you do. You like the power you have over me, don’t you daddy?” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, and you felt your knees weaken. “But we should get to work before we’re both late, don’t you think?” You walked past him, shoulder brushing his, as you began walking up the stairs. You didn’t make it far, though, before he grabbed your arm, stopping you in place.

“Where did this confidence come from all of a sudden?” He asked, voice low.

“I can enjoy my power over you just as much as you can enjoy your power over me.” You replied, attempting to gently tug your arm away.

You waited for another snarky comment, but instead were met with a tug. Spencer turned you around, lips slamming onto yours almost painfully, and his other hand moved to your jaw, forcing your lips apart further and granting his tongue access to your mouth. You kissed him back, of course, hands running through his hair. It didn’t take long for his hands to begin to wander, one finding t's way down in between your skirt, caressing the bare skin of your thighs. You whimpered into his mouth, flinching away, scared to make too much noise even in the stairwell. Spencer pulled his lips away from yours, using his knee to push your legs apart, widening your stance, hands wandering higher, rubbing circles on your inner thigh.

“You suck.” You breathed out.

He didn’t reply, only pushed his leg further between your legs. You felt your body began to grind against it automatically, craving the friction. You let out a huff of frustration and pleasure, angry at your body for giving in so easily. “What are you doing, Y/N?” Spencer asked.

You looked away, face red, and stopped. His hand moved back to your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he spoke. “Did I tell you to stop?” You shook your head, or at least tried to considering he was holding your face. “Then why did you?”

Why did you stop? Because you were embarrassed? Because you were going to be late for work? There were plenty of reasons.

"I dunno.” You settled on. That didn’t seem to be the correct answer though.

“I think you do know. I think you’re embarrassed.” He placed a hand on your hip, pushing and pulling your body against his. You didn’t reply, eyes pointed at the floor. “No? Am I wrong?”

You stopped fighting your desire a bit now, allowing yourself to grind down a bit more onto him. You held back your moans as best you could, biting down on your lip to suppress them.

“I guess if you’re not embarrassed,” Spencer leaned down a bit, leaving a single kiss on your neck. “You’d be fine begging me to let you finish right here on my thigh.”

You gulped. No. God no. You were embarrassed. You were totally definitely embarrassed. “N-No-“

But it was too late, he was holding your waist, keeping you perfectly still. You groaned at the lack of stimulation, pushing against his grip to no avail. “Beg.” He repeated.

“P-Please, daddy?” You mumbled, looking up at him with your best and most convincing face of desperation.

“Please what?” He replied, showing no signs of sympathy.

“Please let me, um...” You trailed off. Did he seriously need to hear you say it? “Um... you know.”

He laughed a bit. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, baby.” He cooed. Fucking hell could he get any more annoying?

You inhaled deeply. Fine. “C-Can I please ride your t-thigh?” You said quietly, staring at the ground.

“Of course you can.” He eased up his grip, allowing you to resume your previous movements, and you were grateful for it. He was kissed your neck, a hand firmly rooted in your hair, but it was short-lived. As you began to inch closer to release you felt him pull away a bit. Oh fuck no. He was not about to pull this again.

Except he was.

He moved his leg away from your body, leaving you without anything. “We’re late.” He said simply, glancing down at his watch, and you stared at him, anger and desire bubbling up inside of you.

“No. Spencer, no. Don’t do this, come on.” You whisper-yelled.

“Do what? You asked if you could ride my thigh, and you did, didn’t you?” You swore you could punch him right in his perfect face. You could shove him down the stairs, perhaps.

“Don’t argue semantics with me. You’re the absolute worst.” You seethed, pouting.

He paid you no mind, walking up the stairs. “We should hurry, we might miss the briefing, don’t you think?” You didn’t move, staring in disbelief, until it dawned on you that he genuinely had no intention of coming back. You groaned in frustration, walking up the stairs behind him in defeat.

You guys were, luckily, on time for the briefing, walking into the meeting room alongside the rest of your colleagues. Spencer took a seat next to you, and you scooted your chair away from his, crossing your arms. He glanced at you and raised a brow, amused. You glared. Who could blame you for feeling mildly angry at him and slightly petty? Especially after what he had just done. JJ began to explain a couple of new cases she was keeping her eye on, and you tried your best to pay attention to her rather than the man next to you who was clearly looking your way. He piped up eventually, citing some statistic that was relevant to the conversation, and used the opportunity to casually adjust his chair and the position he was sitting in, a hand nonchalantly brushing your leg. You knew it had to have been on purpose, right? No way this wasn’t one of his calculated moves. You pulled your leg away, crossing it over your other, and ignored him. The rest of the briefing really only consisted of you trying to control your thoughts, some of them horny and some of them about the violent things you wanted to do to Spencer for fucking you over like that. As soon as the meeting was done you made a beeline to the door, avoiding any chance of giving him time to talk to you.

“Hey, Y/N!” JJ called out, catching up to you.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing! I just noticed that necklace choker thing you’re wearing and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before. Is it new?” She asked, examining it.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you chuckled. “It is new. You like it?” You smiled, trying to appreciate the comment without thinking about everything else associated with the new gift.

JJ nodded sweetly. “I do. It really suits you.”

“Where’d you get it? You have a special someone in your life?” Emily was approaching you now, teasing, and you scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “With this job? I barely have time for myself, let alone someone else. Plus, men aren’t worth the stress. I mean, there’s nothing they can do that a good ole’ piece of silicon can’t do better.” You joked.

Emily and JJ burst out with laughter, echoing sentiments of agreement.

“I don’t get it.” You whipped around at the sound of Spencer’s voice behind you. He was staring at you, feigning some sort of innocence, but you knew. You knew he was doing this to mess with you.

“Oh, don’t worry about it Spence.” JJ giggled. “It’s not something you need to get.”

He shrugged in response, locking eyes with you before walking away.

"Can you imagine him in the bedroom?” Emily lowered her voice to be quieter. “I mean, he’s a human super-computer.”

“Before you joined the team he made out with some girl in a pool while he was supposed to be acting as her bodyguard. You’d be surprised.” JJ gossiped back, nudging you. “Remember that?”

You hadn’t actually remembered that event until now. It wasn’t really relevant to you, so you didn’t particularly keep it in mind. You had only heard a few jokes and stories about it, anyway.

“I don’t know what’s more surprising, the kissing or the choosing him as a bodyguard.” Emily chuckled.

You were tuned out of the conversation. How long ago had that been? You couldn’t remember exactly. Was he still in contact with her? He had never mentioned her before, sure, but you guys never really talked about that type of stuff.

“She was some superstar actress too,” JJ elaborated. “Famous from being on some beach bikini babe TV show. Typical upcoming Hollywood starlet. I don’t know how he managed to do it.”

You frowned. Fuck. Yeah. That girl had been gorgeous. And famous. And now he was messing around with you? “Do you think they still talk?” You tried to ask as casually as you could.

JJ thought about it for a moment. “Well, I’ve never heard anything about it, but he’d have been stupid not to keep in touch. I know she gave him her number.”

“We should get Garcia to hack his phone records and check for any California area codes.” Emily laughed.

"Maybe we should.” You half-joked back absentmindedly. You weren’t even sure if you really wanted to know if he still talked to her. It probably would’ve been better if you hadn’t remembered their whole affair altogether.

The three of you went your separate ways, walking to your desks, and you just sat and thought. A hand played at the velvet on your neck, fingers tracing over it. This whole thing with Spencer had made you feel more confused than any case you had ever worked in your life. Your job was to understand human behavior, and yet you were at a loss. You couldn’t understand him, but even worse, you couldn’t understand a thing about your own thoughts and feelings. Why were you so attached to a dude you had fucked a few times? Was it all just that weird post-sex sadness Spencer told you about? Was this normal? Or were you going insane, maybe? You couldn’t tell. Or maybe you could. Maybe you had just been suppressing the answer to all your questions, shrouded in denial. Maybe you weren't bad at understanding your own behavior, maybe you were just bad at accepting it. You needed coffee, you decided, so you got up, walking past Spencer’s desk, avoiding looking at him at all costs. He watched as you walked by and you almost laughed. He was a genius, but he was so unaware. You couldn’t blame him, you had been unaware of it too for a long time. But it seemed, despite your greatest efforts, it seemed you had fucked up. You thought your biggest mistake had been hooking up with him, but your mistakes had gone far beyond that. Oh, no. You had a much larger issue at hand. You had caught feelings for Spencer Reid.

taglist <33

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae @brokenanxiety @andiebeaword @spencerwaltergubler @la-vie-en-amour1 @rainsong01 @taekwinkle @dreamer7black @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @creepingfromthecorners @joyousreid @slutforthegubes @cluelessnitwhit @downondilaudid @screeching-student-unknown @gretaamyk @thegingerfairchild @criminal-minds-reider @spencerrreid-cm @collegestudentvevo @pastathighs @midnightsubmissives @spencer-reid-enthusiast @emilyxprentiss @drreidshands

#all bets are off #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler x reader

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jeonqqin · 4 years ago

Text

no more choices. [m]

k. seungmin x reader x l. felix | friends to lovers au

— ❝You loved your boys. They were your soulmates and the only two people you could imagine spending the rest of your life with. In what way, you didn’t know—until Seungmin returned from his two month trip to America, and things began to change rapidly.❞

WORD COUNT: 9k

CONTAINS: college au, best friends to lovers au, confusing love between best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, dom!felix, soft dom!seungmin, sub!reader

WARNING: threesome (mmf, barely any male on male), oral (male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, self-deprecating thoughts

A/N: my first requested fic,, thank you anon!

▸ request

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

minnie ♡ [5:47]

Hey princess

minnie ♡ [5:47]

Just got back to the dorm, so I’m gonna unpack

minnie ♡ [5:48]

Do you want me to pick you up after class?

You smiled down at your phone as the professor droned on at the front of the lecture hall, your thumbs rapidly typing a reply.

[5:48] sent.

No, I’ll walk :)

[5:48] sent.

I missed you

minnie ♡ [5:48]

I missed you too

minnie ♡ [5:48]

Call me after class, okay?

Setting your phone down with a dopey smile, you sighed.

Seungmin had gone to America for two whole months to study under a well-known law firm in Los Angeles and was just getting back from the airport today. You wanted to be the one to pick him up, but due to your afternoon classes, he decided to spring for a taxi.

You really needed a night of mindlessness after having a packed week of lectures and classes, and that was guaranteed when you were with Seungmin. Normally the night would consist of a movie and some cuddling, then the two of you would fall asleep on the couch before nine. And that was exactly what you craved as you struggled to retain any of the information your professor was spewing.

The lecture ended after another hour, though it felt like several, and you quickly packed up your things into your bag. At least you had gotten your notes and listened enough to have a decent idea of what the next project would be. You could hardly care, you were just eager to get back to your dorm so you could see Seungmin.

But as you were leaving the university, there was a sudden force knocking into your back and almost pushing you over. “How’s my beautiful girl?”

You laughed as the not-so-stranger placed several tickling kisses on the crook of your neck, holding you in place so you couldn’t wiggle away. “Felix, get off!”

“No way, babe. You’re stuck with me.” He said, his breath seeing shivers down your spine.

It had always been the three of you—it was you, Seungmin, and Felix who were stuck together. You grew up with the boys, going to the same elementary school, and coincidentally continuing to enroll in the same college. It was a special connection you shared that not many people could say that they ever experienced, and the three of you came upon it by chance.

You did everything together, whether it be homework or parties, and you would drop whatever plans you had for each other. They were closer to you than siblings could ever be, and they were ultimately the people you considered to be your soulmates. The three of you could crash onto one of your small dorm beds and talk for hours about things that normally you would keep to yourself until you fell asleep surrounded by one another.

With them beside you, most first experiences were shared together—being there to celebrate Seungmin’s most recent internship at a prestigious law firm, and when Felix finally earned his third-degree black belt. As well as other things. The first alcoholic drink you ever had was in Felix’s room while his parents were having a dinner party and the three of you managed to sneak some wine. At your first high school dance, the boys went as your dates, matching your dress with a blue tie on Felix and a blue handkerchief haphazardly folded in Seungmin’s breast pocket.

That night was one you didn’t like to reminisce, solely because you tried to grind against Felix, and had participated in a very awkward slow dance where you happened to knock your forehead into Seungmin’s.

Seungmin took your first kiss in middle school, followed up by one from Felix, all because they needed to be on even ground. The boys were there for you to cry on when your first boyfriend broke up with you, Felix spewing death threats while Seungmin spoke comforting words in your ear.

Your first high, your first low—it was all with them.

“Did Seungmin send you?” You asked, grabbing his hand and continuing forward. Such gestures weren’t foreign between you and Felix—public displays of affection weren’t Seungmin’s cup of tea, but Felix thrived on them.

“He told me not to tell you.” He snickered, plucking your phone from your back pocket and typing in your password. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but you were asked to call him after class.”

He pressed the call button and immediately put it on speakerphone.

“You on your way?” Seungmin asked.

Felix slipped his arm over your shoulder, leaning towards the phone. “Meet you at the dorm, Minnie!”

“Oh,” there was a brief pause on his end. He sounded hesitant, and despite it being subtle, it didn’t slip by you. “See you soon.”

“Okay, Min. Love you.” You responded out of instinct, waiting for his response with a smile.

Seungmin hummed. “Love you too.”

You held onto your phone until the beep. Seungmin’s tone set you on edge. He had seemed so happy when he texted you in class, so it was off-putting to hear him in a bad mood.

With a sigh you stuffed your phone back into your pocket, continuing the short walk to the boy’s dorm.

“Did he seem weird to you?” You turned to Felix, a small furrow to your brow.

Felix sighed, ruffling his bangs. “A little bit.”

“Right,” you frowned. “I hope he’s feeling okay. His flight was pretty long.”

“Maybe he’s just tired.” Felix shrugged, reaching down to lace your fingers with his. “Don’t worry too much.”

You felt a smile twitch onto your lips as he squeezed your hand. He was probably right.

After their first year of college, Felix and Seungmin were offered to stay with their upperclassmen friend, Bang Chan, in his apartment with him and five others. But they declined, in favor of staying roommates in the school’s dorms. You suspected it was only because they wanted to stay close to you, and as flattered as you were that they loved you enough to pass up an opportunity to live in a more comfortable place, you felt frustrated. The two boys were always throwing away chances to grow and change just so they could be with you. You loved them to death, so you wanted what was best for them, even if that meant that they would distance themselves.

You had always been the one who thought rationally when it came to your friendship, and you didn’t ever see that changing.

Felix unlocked the door of his room, pushing it open and throwing his jacket onto his desk. The dorm itself was neat and clean, a tell-tale sign of Seungmin being home—granted, you had seen it the other day and Felix had really let it go.

“Minnie?” You called as you stepped into the room, peeking your head around the corner to see him already on his bed setting up a movie on his laptop.

Your voice startled him, causing him to jump. But the surprise was quickly wiped from his face when you launched yourself into his arms, eager to tuck your face into his neck to inhale his cologne. He and Felix always had two very different scents, and they were both two smells that put you at ease. But this time, the moment you pushed your nose against his jaw, you recoiled at the foreign smell that stuck to his skin.

It was strong, and not at all Seungmin.

He chuckled at your expression, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his neck. “Sorry, it’s a cologne I picked up in America.”

You frowned. “Right…”

Felix came to your aid immediately at the sense of your displeasure, throwing his arm around your shoulder and tugging you down onto Seungmin’s bed. “Get used to it, Y/n. It’s been two months. Minnie’s practically a new man.”

You grimaced. “Ew, don’t say that.”

Felix popped a quick kiss onto your cheek, smiling widely as you squealed in shock, swatting at his arm.

Seungmin pursed his mouth to the side in discontent at the scene. He hadn’t seen you or Felix in two months, and it seemed that the constant lovey-dovey actions weren’t getting any milder.

Great.

But the buzzing of his phone had him tearing his gaze away from you, grabbing it from the side table to check the caller-ID. Unfortunately for him, you also catch it as well, your smile slowly fading from your lips. He quickly flipped his phone over and muted the buzzing, despite it already being too late for that.

An awkward silence filled the room as Seungmin cleared his throat.

“Sarah with a heart?” You laughed; short and tense. “You could’ve taken it, Minnie, it’s not like we would mind.”

Felix raised a brow. “Sarah with a heart?” He snickered, sending Seungmin a smirk. “And who is that?”

Seungmin shrugged, busying himself with his laptop. He definitely didn’t want the two of you asking questions about his visit to America; he had done a few things that he didn’t want to tell you quite yet. He knew Felix would make fun of him, and you would pout for the next couple of weeks.

But the topic was already up.

“Oh yeah, I met her at one of my friend’s baseball games.” He looked away, tossing his phone onto his bed. “In America.”

“And what’s with the heart?” You asked, tilting your head to catch his eye. “Are you dating her or something?”

Initially, you said it like a joke. But you quickly realized that it wasn’t funny as he remained silent—it was true.

“You’re dating a girl in America?” Felix asked for both of you, his eyes wide. “And you didn’t tell us this important detail when we regularly asked ‘oi, Seungmin, what’s new?’”

“We’re not really dating, okay? She just—”

“I thought we told each other everything?”

Your broken words had him pulling his lips between his teeth in guilt. He knew you weren’t upset at the fact that he was “dating” someone, but because he withheld the information. In all the years of being friends, you all made it a ritual to tell each other about important changes. And yeah, the fact that Seungmin was romantically involved with a girl from America, was pretty important.

“Well,” Seungmin shrugged, frustrated. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

You scoffed. “Really? Now it’s not a big deal?” You stood from the bed, turning to face him. “What about that guy that asked me out at that bar? Was your reaction then totally justified?”

He remembered. The three of you had gone to a nightclub for Felix’s birthday and you had been pulled from their arms by a man with too much muscle—in his opinion. It wasn’t that he was mad about you being carried away, Seungmin was upset because you took the time to dance with him. So he had grilled you a bit when you returned with messy hair and pink cheeks.

Perhaps he had been a bit jealous, but that was beside the point.

“No, I was upset because you ditched us on Felix’s birthday—”

“Oh, because you weren’t jealous at all.” You said accusingly. “Right? It wasn’t because I was giving my attention to that guy and not you, right?”

Seungmin felt the retort bubbling up in his throat, but it was immediately cut down when he watched Felix grab you by the hand and tug you into his chest. His eyes rolled, turning away from the small display.

“You’re both stressed. We should go to bed and talk about it in the morning, okay?” Felix hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Fine.” You agreed, releasing a breath.

But the three of you stood there, completely still.

Fights weren’t unusual for you, although you never once left them unresolved. And you weren’t sure about Seungmin’s feelings, but you were still pretty upset with him. You knew you needed to sort things out, and so did he. Unfortunately for you, Felix was pretty adamant about keeping the conflict between you and Seungmin to a minimum.

You also had no idea how the sleeping arrangements would go; you were mad at Seungmin, but it was still his first day back and you really wanted him to hold you.

Felix cleared his throat from beside you, breaking the silence. “I have a shirt for you to wear,” he motioned towards his side of the room. “I’ll grab it.”

You thanked him quietly, turning away from Seungmin just in time to miss him throwing a glare at Felix’s retreating back. He really had no idea what had him so worked up, but with every little domestic act that you and Felix shared, he grew even more irritable. Sure, it could’ve been that he missed you, and he wanted to be the one to put you in his shirt.

But it also could’ve been his fear of you and Felix growing closer that was clawing its way up his throat.

“Okay,” Seungmin scoffed under his breath. “And you’re complaining about me not telling you things.”

Though, unfortunately for him, you heard him loud and clear. You spun back to face him, fuming.

“What was that?” You asked slowly, knowing very well what he just said.

Seungmin threw his arms up as Felix returned to your side cautiously, his spare shirt dangling from his arm. Seungmin glared at the offending piece of fabric. “You two!” He motioned towards you. “It would be fucking insane of me to think that you weren’t a thing now! Do you think the guys don’t tell me shit while I’m gone?”

Felix pressed forward, frowning at Seungmin’s brash words. “It doesn’t matter what people tell you. Y/n and my relationship has nothing—”

“Kissing? Making out with your best friends doesn’t matter now?” Seungmin raised an accusing brow, glad for the few inches he had on Felix.

Your face flushed in both anger and embarrassment.

It hadn’t been your first kiss shared with Felix—he had been one of your first after all. But one afternoon the mood was just there and he leaned in. It wasn’t even awkward afterward, solely because it was you and Felix, and the two of you always shared romantic gestures. What was a little kissing? You told yourself not to think anything of it.

Until Seungmin’s comment, of course.

“And you tell Hyunjin before me,” Seungmin said, betrayed. Though, he wasn’t really sad because of the betrayal. Something else was presenting to be a harder pill to swallow, “So are you two a thing now or what?”

Your gaze snapped up to him, your eyes wide. “What?”

“Last time I checked, you didn’t just kiss your friends,” Seungmin replied bitterly, his words having more of an impact than you expected.

Felix took a hasty step forward, his brows pulled tight. “You’re acting like a real asshole, Min. Did America change you or is this shit coming from the guy I called my best friend two months ago?”

Seungmin sneered, standing. “Oh, fuck you, Lix.” He jabbed a finger forward into the shorter man's chest, his mouth opening before he could process what was about to come out of it. “I told you that I was in love with her way before you pulled this shit.”

Silence took over again; raw silence.

Your mouth hung open at Seungmin’s unexpected confession. Never had you taken into account whether or not the boys could hold those feelings for you, and you were quickly regretting that. They were always your best friends, and thinking of them as something else was playing tricks on your mind.

Before, you had felt jealous of the girls that the boys occasionally brought up—pouting whenever they called them pretty or stepping away from the conversation when they got into too much detail. But you never chalked it up as jealousy.

The messy pieces of the puzzle were starting to arrange themselves.

“Well, I love her too, asshole.”

And what a mess it was indeed.

You took a step to the side, looking at both boys with wide confused eyes. “You what?”

Felix and Seungmin shared a glance, suddenly unsure about everything going forward. You were traveling into uncharted territory, which was something you were used to doing together, but not to this extent.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Felix avoided your gaze. “But yeah. I’ve kinda been in love with you for a while.”

Your eyes flew to Seungmin who wasn’t faring any better than Felix, his own eyes cast downward. You swallowed. “And you?”

He nodded shyly. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Why?”

Your question shocked them, the clear break in your voice included. They understood that you were confused, but they couldn’t push past their best friend instincts when they saw you with tears in your eyes.

Felix immediately pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your form in a comforting embrace. While Seungmin stepped closer, his hand carefully pushing back a few strands of hair from your face. It was hard for you to hold in the tears that threatened to fall, when the two boys you loved more than anything were holding you so close. You missed them so much that it started to hurt.

“No, don’t ask why beautiful,” Felix whispered against the side of your head, feeling his own emotions rise up. “You don’t have to ask why.”

Of course, you did. Why would they fall for you, when there were plenty of other girls falling at their feet? Why did both of them have to love you? Why did you feel so conflicted suddenly?

You took a deep breath, your body stiff. “I can’t choose. It would kill me to choose.”

The boys took a moment to look at one another—having been best friends for so long gave them the ability to understand each other’s thoughts with a simple look. And hopefully, they could see that they were thinking the same thing.

Felix rubbed your back. “You don’t have to choose, Y/n. We wouldn’t make you do something like that.”

You shook your head, letting your forehead fall against Felix’s shoulder. Your head hurt. “Why—why didn’t you tell me?” You whispered, barely loud enough for them to hear you.

“I—” Seungmin sighed. “It wouldn't be fair to you…”

“We knew you didn’t feel the same,” Felix said against the side of your head, his voice tense.

Seungmin was someone who easily hid his emotions. Sometimes to the point where you found it hard to decipher what he was really thinking. But Felix couldn’t hide anything from you, and he knew that.

As for you, they weren’t as well versed in your thoughts.

You swallowed, pulling away from Felix to look him in the eye. You watched his jaw tick under the pressure of your stare, but you didn’t let up. “You don’t know that.”

Their eyes fell onto you, intense.

“I love you too.” The saliva collected in your throat. “I love both of you too.”

You didn’t like the look they shared. Even if they shared their feelings first, it felt like you were the one with everything on the line. Before you had time to dwell on finding the reason, you pushed past them to sit on Seungmin’s bed, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

“This isn’t you saying you love us like every other time, right?” Felix asked as he hesitantly strode with his hands in his pocket to close the remaining space between him and you, leaving Seungmin standing in the middle of the room. When he was at your side, he caressed your face to take your nervous eyes away from the floor and over to him instead. The crease between your brows softened automatically when you met Felix’s gaze, and he leaned in so you could feel his breath against your lips. “Do you mean it the same way we do?” Straightening up, his calm and laidback aura disappeared for a second, allowing you to see the worry behind his eyes.

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded. His palm was cool against your hot cheek, and it was suddenly very clear why your heart fluttered every time he touched you. “I do. I feel the same way.”

“And that’s why you kissed me?” Felix questioned, Seungmin slowly joining his side. His fading auburn hair hung in his eyes and you resisted the urge to push it out of the way for him. Felix leaned close, “The whole time I was waiting for you to tell me to stop, but you didn’t. I thought about it for days and couldn’t get the feeling of your lips out of my head.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you listened to Felix’s words whilst looking into Seungmin’s darkening gaze. Something about the way he looked at you made your palms sweat, and the vibration of Felix’s deep voice didn’t make it any better.

“Did you know how you were affecting him, Y/n?” Seungmin asked, the subtle teasing tone in his voice surprising you.

Your head shook before you processed what he really said.

“Well, did you feel the same way?” It was Felix’s voice that asked, his lips caught between his teeth.

Looking down, you watched Felix’s hand fall to your knee, carefully pushing your thighs apart as he took a seat beside you on his bed. All of a sudden, the fabric of your jeans felt too constricting under his palm, and the sweater was too warm on your body. Felix could see your need in the way your fists clenched from where they pressed against the bedsheets, and he had to hold back a snicker.

Sliding his hand further up your thigh, he leaned into your neck to simper just outside of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “What do you really want us to be, princess?” Felix whispered, running his tongue over his lip. “Best friends? Or…”

His fingertips brushed between your thighs, the touch so light that you had to look to make sure it was really happening. Your breath caught. “Lix, I—” But his palm flattening against your core had you choking on your words.

“I don’t think what you did to us was very fair,” Felix hummed. You felt the whimper bubble out of your throat before you even realized you made the sound. But Felix was proud of his effect on you. “I think we deserve an apology.” His hand slid over your dampening cunt, carefully—almost lovingly. “Right, Min?”

Your eyes jumped to Seungmin, having forgotten he was still there. He stood in the middle of the floor, stock still, eyes hyper-focused on his best friend’s hand at the junction of your thighs. He had been silently watching up until Felix acknowledged him, his eyes lifting not to look at who addressed him, but you. Though it looked like he was trapped in place, you suddenly had a sinking feeling that he would turn around to leave. So you took your bottom lip between your teeth and sent him a pout that he always had a difficult time denying, “I’m sorry, Minnie…”

Seungmin made a little choked up noise at the back of his throat, taking a hesitant step closer to see more clearly.

“Show us how sorry you are, sunshine,” Felix said, his voice low. Patting your thigh, he commanded, “Up. Let’s see our pretty girl make it up to us, hm?”

Whimpering, you complied, standing up on shaky legs to give Felix better access to your jeans. He carefully reached to pull you closer, maneuvering you between his thighs to unzip your jeans and pull them over your hips. The pace was agonizingly slow, and you couldn’t help the embarrassed blush that rose to your cheeks when he let out a low whistle. He slid one finger under the elastic of your underwear, releasing it with a snap against your skin. “Cute, huh?” Looking over your shoulder, his eyes met Seungmin’s.

“Wow,” Seungmin swallowed. “Pink panties, Y/n?”

Though you couldn’t see him move closer, you could feel his fingers ghost along the hem of your shirt, gently lifting it over your head and throwing it to the floor.

Felix snickered, tracing a finger over the cup of your bra. “They match. Why am I surprised?”

You preened under his touch, lifting your arms to curl around Felix’s neck. You were nervous to take that first step again—you could mask the last kiss as a mistake if Felix miraculously changed his mind, but if you took that leap for a second time, fixing what little of the friendship you still had would be impossible. You would be too far to go back.

Fortunately—despite it being a risk—the decision came easy to you.

Your legs saddled his lap, your breath shallow as you cautiously brought your lips to the corner of his mouth, placing a coy kiss there to feel the power fall back into your hands. His hand stuttered as he placed it on your waist, his fingers fumbling over the waistband of your underwear. But his eyes flickered to Seungmin and a small chuckle left his lips. “I don’t think it’s been made even yet, beautiful. Don’t you think Minnie should get the chance to kiss your pretty lips before I do?”

Seungmin snorted, sliding his hands over your ribs. “It’s like middle school all over again.”

“Yeah, but this time I got her first kiss—” Felix smirked, transitioning to English flawlessly, “Mate.”

Seungmin glared playfully, making a point by threading his fingers through your hair and coaxing your head to turn his way. “Jealous?”

You had momentarily forgotten that Seungmin just got back from spending two months in America, and his unexpected English sent a spike of arousal through you. With a whine, you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into you to close the gap.

Seungmin’s lips felt different from Felix’s, his approach automatically more aggressive than the tender kiss that you and Felix had shared. His teeth nipped at the flesh of your lips, which had you involuntarily bucking your hips against Felix. There was something about how they were still fully clothed while you were presented almost completely bare to them that had you painfully turned on.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, Felix slid his fingers past your underwear. In your surprise, you bit down on Seungmin’s lip, melting at the groan he let out while Felix continued to tease you, spreading your arousal from your entrance to the little sensitive nub. Finally, he sunk two slick fingers inside, slowly stroking your velvet walls, and you uttered a shuddering whimper into Seungmin’s mouth.

“God, baby… You’re so tight.” Felix groaned, feeling around your cunt as you began meeting his prods. “Fuck, Min. You have to feel how perfect this is.” Felix hissed, using his free hand to grab Seungmin’s and push two of his digits in beside his own.

The feeling of both of the boy’s fingers stuffed into your core was something you never wanted to forget—your moans loud to convey your lust to your two best friends.

It was your little noises that had both of them twitching in their trousers, the whole scenario still so unbelievable in their eyes. The only reason why they never wanted to pursue their feelings for you was a fear of losing their relationship with each other. They knew there was no way that it could be the three of you if they tried to make you theirs individually.

“You’re wet because you have our fingers filling that cute pussy of yours, hm?” Felix grunted against your neck, sucking bruises into your unmarked skin.

With a particular thrust of what you believed to be Seungmin’s fingers, you jerked away from his lips, feeling boneless and falling against Felix’s chest. “Yes. Feels so good—fuck.” Eyes squeezing shut, your back arched. Seungmin then found that special spot inside you, pressing his long fingers against it over and over and over again. It was too much, your thighs almost snapping together if it weren’t for Felix’s elbow pushing them apart.

Inching closer, Seungmin used his free hand to slide the skinny straps of your bra down, one at a time. As soon as your breasts came into view, the boys groaned, Felix’s face only inches away as Seungmin tweaked the nipple between his fingers. Seungmin was usually an ass man, but nothing could compare to how pretty your tits looked under his hands. He had to hold in a moan when you wiggled around and stuck your chest out for him, wantonly panting and mewling his name.

“I’m gonna cum—” You gasped, tugging on Felix’s shirt, the feeling of the two boys working on you becoming too much.

But suddenly, the feeling of fullness disappeared as Felix pulled his fingers away from you, dragging Seungmin along—ruining your orgasm. Your eyes snapped open with tears clouding your vision, walls clenching around nothing, desperate for them to bring the pleasure back.

“Not yet, baby. I think I want your first orgasm to be on my tongue.” Felix murmured, sending Seungmin a taunting look.

“Now?” You asked, pleading.

Felix chuckled, popping his slick covered fingers into his mouth. But then, torturously, he pulled his digits out and pushed them past your own lips, allowing you to savor your own juices along with his unique taste on your tongue. Patting the bed beside him, he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “Come on. Sit up here for me, beautiful.”

“Hold on,” Seungmin huffed, playfully nudging Felix’s shoulder. The younger of the two wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing a giggle out of you, and sat in the place beside Felix. Hoisting you up onto his lap, he situated you so your feet rested against the outside of his thighs, leaving you open for Felix’s prying eyes. “This is the least you could do for me while Felix gets to taste you.”

You shivered at the feeling of his breath against the back of your neck, leaning your forehead on his shoulder. “But Minnie, I could—”

“Not now, beautiful. Be good and then you can play with us.” Felix said, biting his lips before tugging your underwear down your legs and immediately wrapping his lips around your clit. He then slid—not his fingers—but grabbed Seungmin’s hand and pushed two of his fingers into your pussy. You gasped, bucking up against his hand.

You heard Seungmin’s moan in your ear, followed by your own, “Fuck, honey. Look at you…”

Felix hummed a chuckle, letting Seungmin move his own fingers inside of you. And soon enough, he started to really finger fuck you, hard enough for you to feel feverish. The precise rub of his long and thick fingers had you painfully close again. With Felix’s deadly suction on your bud and Seungmin’s fingertips brushing the sweet spot inside of you, the buzz in your stomach climbed quickly.

Finally, the little cord in your belly snapped.

Moaning through your orgasm, your hips shook and jerked, your fingernails digging into Seungmin’s wrist that was still pumping in and out of you. Felix was quick to flatten his tongue over your gushing slit, collecting as much of your juices as he could, like a man starved.

“Your legs are shaking, baby,” Seungmin stated, pulling his soaked fingers from your hole and running a soothing palm over your quivering thigh.

You smiled, completely breathless, just trying to recover from your orgasm. “Yeah, just—wow.”

Standing from his kneeling spot, Felix wiped your release from his mouth. His eyes darkened at your fucked out form being held tightly by Seungmin’s strong arms, and he made a quick decision. With a slow stride to his own bed, Felix pulled his shirt over his head and fell back onto his mattress. When you sent him a look of confusion, he raised a brow, “You wanted to thank Minnie for being so patient, right?”

Your head turned to face Seungmin, blinking up at him as you nodded. “Yeah…” So you slid to your knees, taking Felix’s spot on the floor. Though, not before running your palms under his sweatshirt and helping him lift it over his head, nearly whimpering at the sight of his toned chest.

Felix laughed, unbuckling his belt. “She missed you.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin smiled as you leaned forward to place a soft kiss against his stomach. His hand cupped the side of your face. “I missed you too, sweetheart.”

You hummed, coy. “You still smell different.”

Seungmin snorted, leaning back against his hand to watch you unbutton his jeans with eager movements. “I’ll use my other cologne from now on.”

“Good.” You said, slowly pulling his jeans down his hips. The second his hard and throbbing cock was in your hand, you could feel yourself start to clench around nothing, dying to feel the weight of it on your tongue. Stroking him slowly, you whispered, “You’re bigger than I thought.”

Through his heavy breaths, Seungmin laughed. “Do you flatter every guy you’re about to suck off?”

Glancing up at him with the wide-eyed look he loved so much, you answered cheekily, “just you,” and you were pulling his cock into your mouth, eagerly running your tongue over it.

Seungmin was in heaven—he never expected to see your pretty lips pulled tightly over his dick, and it was so much better than he thought. The hardest thing was keeping himself from tipping his head back and shutting his eyes because of the pleasure. He didn’t want to miss the way your eyes watered when you dropped down and took everything you could, or how your tongue darted around the head when you lifted up. And he had to hold back a moan when you swallowed around him until your saliva pooled out of your mouth and leaked down your chin.

With everything you were doing, Seungmin couldn’t help but groan and call you his good girl. You preened at the praise, happily wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock to gently suck, tasting the precum that leaked after his low moan.

Threading his long fingers in your hair, he guided your head as your sweet mouth brought him closer to his release, gasping when you moaned around him as he held you down. How he got so lucky—he had no idea.

“Cum on her face, Min.”

Seungmin was caught off guard by Felix’s deep voice, not expecting it to send a jolt of electricity straight to his cock.

But it did, and with one last moan, Seungmin cursed, pulling his cock out of the perfect feeling of your mouth. He roughly stroked himself to orgasm—cumming in multiple spurts over your face. You took it eagerly, shutting your eyes and obediently opening your mouth to catch as much as you could. The grunts of his pleasure fell to your ears like honey—you loved Seungmin’s voice almost as much as you loved Felix’s, and hearing him moan so prettily had you leaking.

His hand dropped from his cock and he released a shaky breath, watching intently as you opened your eyes and kept eye contact as you gathered his cum on your tongue. You swiped your index finger over the strands of his drying cum on your face as you showed him the pooling of white on your tongue. At a loss for words, Seungmin just watched as you closed your mouth to swallow it down, unaware of the rumbling groan in his chest. You then presented him with your clean tongue with a coy smile.

“Fuck,” Seungmin huffed as you pushed your cum covered fingers into your mouth as if it was your favorite treat, cleaning up every drop that was left on your cheeks. His broken voice caught, “How are you real?”

Still filled with excitement, you lifted to your feet—only wobbling a little—and wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his. Seungmin hummed into your mouth, shifting you closer with his arms sliding around your waist, pushing his lips harder against yours. You sighed, pleased with the way he could handle you so effortlessly.

With the way you melted into his arms, he completely forgot about your argument from earlier. He didn’t care. You could love Felix more than him—as long as he could still hold you, he didn’t care.

“As pretty as you two look right now,” Felix rasped from his place behind you, his voice strained and rough and—wow, you never thought he could sound hotter. “I’d really love to feel your tight little pussy around my cock, sunshine.”

Looking back, your hands tightened on Seungmin’s shoulders at the sight of your gorgeous best friend laid out over his bed like a god. His tan skin illuminated by the setting sun that peeked through the window, the freckles that you loved prominently contrasting against his flesh. How could one person be so beautiful?

Even though his cock stood up straight in attention, pulsing with need and leaking down the length, he still acted laid-back and carefree to tease you. “I waited so politely. I think I deserve a thank you too, right?”

You nodded with a smile, more than happy to do as he asked. There was no way you could deny your sweet friend, not after everything he had done for you.

When you approached his bed and crawled over him, you leaned down to kiss the head of his cock gently before straightening up to peck his grinning lips. But as you turned to grab his shoulder, about to straddle him, Felix pulled away with a smirk, shaking his head. Before you could ask why he raised a brow and glanced to the side. “Hands and knees. Look at Minnie.”

Understanding his request, you spun to face Seungmin, and couldn’t help but pull your lip between your teeth.

He watched from the other side of the room, his arms folded behind his head as he watched with bated breath. You hadn’t expected Seungmin to enjoy something like this, but seeing his red face and dark eyes, it made you even more eager to continue.

He was soft against his stomach, but the way Felix grabbed your hips roughly to manipulate your body just the way he wanted, adjusting your wet heat snugly so it was hugging his hard length, it made Seungmin’s dick twitch. Cheekily, Felix leaned over your back to murmur into the back of your neck, just loud enough for Seungmin to hear, “I think Minnie should get a punishment, baby. It’s only fair since he went off to find some American girl while we were patiently waiting for him to get back.”

You whimpered at the feeling of his rutting hips against your ass, head going dizzy. “But—but he didn’t—oh, fuck…” The head of his cock slipped over your sensitive clit, cutting your breath short.

“Uh-uh, beautiful. He was so mean to us when we came over. He needs to see what he would’ve been missing if he went off with Sarah, got it?” Felix gritted through his teeth, snapping his strong hips into you, just grazing his cock against your hot folds.

You then nodded your head fast, no longer thinking straight. You didn’t want to punish Seungmin—you missed him, and whatever disagreement you had before was erased the moment he held you in his arms. But with Felix teasing you to insanity, you just said whatever you could.

Lifting you up with his hands on your hips, Felix placed one last kiss against your spine as a reward. When he lined himself up to your entrance—torturously prodding only the head of his cock inside you—you squirmed in his tight embrace, wanting more. In English, you heard Felix murmur, good girl, and then he was pushing his length into you.

With no fight left in you, Felix slid his cock into you with no trouble, his hips sitting flush against your ass. Before your narrow walls were quite used to the new stretch, you suddenly felt a push of his hips and an unexpected pain on your ass, a loud smack falling flat in the small room. Whining, you looked over your shoulder, locking eyes with Felix’s now stern ones. He growled, “Look at him while I fuck you.”

Obediently, your eyes shifted to Seungmin, and Felix started moving.

It was all so much. With Seungmin watching you get fucked by your best friend so intently, and Felix’s low groans above you, it was hard to take. Everything was overwhelming in the best of ways—you didn’t even remember when your eyes started watering. With your high moans mingling with Felix’s low growls, it was pornographic.

And Seungmin was suffering.

Breath heavy and short, he took his hardening cock in his hand and pumped it slowly. All he could do was watch Felix push in and out of your tight little hole, his eyes flickering between your half-lidded gaze and Felix’s taunting smirk. Felix really did want to punish him.

“Later—” Felix panted, thrusting hard into you. “Later we will see how good you are with both of our cocks stuffed inside of you—ah, see how much you can take with Minnie’s fat cock right next to mine, hm?” Felix groaned, planting another hard smack to your ass as you mewled at his filthy words. He might’ve been talking to you, but his eyes bore into Seungmin’s, both of the boys making a silent promise to each other.

You were theirs—both of theirs.

Quickly, you were approaching your high for the second time, your stomach tensing and mouth falling open. As your breath began to pick up, Seungmin caught on and motioned to Felix, biting his lip at your pleasured expression.

So Felix hummed, sliding his hand over your throat and lifting you up so your back was flush to his chest, giving Seungmin a perfect view of your pretty tits bouncing with each thrust. Felix pressed his lips against your ear, smirking at your little pleas. “If you cum now, I won’t let you feel Seungmin’s cock inside of you.”

You practically cried, feeling the wetness of your eyes fall to your cheeks. “Please, Lix. It’s so much—so good. I need to cum…”

But your whines fell to deaf ears, Felix’s focus zeroed in on how Seungmin gripped his cock hard and hissed through his teeth. His length pulsed inside of you, his groan sending vibrations straight to your cunt and causing you to clench down on him. His orgasm hurled into him by surprise, a deep string of curses falling from his lips as he haphazardly pushed your front back against the mattress and pulled himself out of you just in time to release over your ass. Growling, his palm connected with your wet thigh one last time for good measure.

Huffing raggedly from his orgasm, Felix clenched his jaw. “Get over here and fuck her.”

Seungmin didn’t waste any time getting off his bed, and stumbled forward, ready to finally feel you around him. He kneeled beside Felix, allowing the shorter boy to manhandle you so you were leaning back against his chest, feeling secure with his arm around your torso.

Felix grabbed Seungmin by the wrist and pulled him forward, looking at his best friend carefully. “C’mere Min…” He instructed gently.

Seungmin nodded, grabbing your hips and lining himself up to your entrance. He needed to feel you too—he needed to so bad. “Okay—fuck, Lix. She’s so wet.”

“Yeah, she is.” Felix chuckled, rubbing his free hand down to play with your wet folds, showing Seungmin what he was really in for.

You shook when Felix’s thumb brushed against your throbbing clit, a broken moan leaving your lips. Both boys hissed as you bucked forward, more desperate than they thought.

Seungmin then pushed into you, moaning softly at the tightness of your cunt.

You cried out, head falling against Felix’s shoulder as the stretch of Seungmin’s cock rendered you speechless. It was hard to believe you had just been fucked, with the completely new feeling of Seungmin’s silky length teasing your sweet-spot, the head just barely brushing it as he bottomed out. He groaned at the wonderful warmth, but held you tight, whispering words of praise mingled with curses of how tight and perfect you felt around him.

“Please, just—” you moaned, pushing down on him. “Just fuck me, Seungmin.”

Felix ran his lips down your neck, grabbing onto your hips as Seungmin shifted just enough to brush that small spot up inside of you. Felix lifted your hips as you whimpered, groaning in your ear, “You heard her, Min. Fuck her.”

So he did—thrusting his hips forward with a strangled moan.

There was no better feeling than having your two favorite boys holding you so tightly. Felix’s fingers digging into your sides hard enough to form bruises and Seungmin’s strong arms caging you under him. It was ethereal. Even though you were overstimulated and so so painfully close to your orgasm, you couldn’t help but feel so happy. Never did you think you would feel so happy, But with them, how could you be surprised?

Seungmin’s thrusts stuttered, his cock digging into you at a breathtaking speed, and Felix’s hands starting to bounce you up and down on him—it was too much. Sobbing, you came around his cock, pulsing and clenching and leaking all over Felix’s strong thighs.

“Shit, baby, you’re cumming so well around his cock. Look at you,” Felix praised, dragging his fingers over your pulsating nub to coax another loud moan from your throat. Your orgasm was intense—possibly the most intense you had ever felt.

As hard as it was to keep a rhythm, Felix helped Seungmin the best he could to bring him to his second high, his dick twitching inside of you and adding to your pleasure. “Oh, fuck—”

“Cum inside her hot pussy, Minnie.” Felix moaned, high pitched and pretty, one of his hands guiding Seungmin’s hips into you for one last hard thrust before he released deep inside of you—just like Felix instructed.

You felt so gloriously full, Seungmin’s warm cum pooling between your legs. You hummed softly, threading your fingers gently through Seungmin’s soft hair and leaning your head against Felix’s where he had his face tucked into the crook of your neck. Both breathing heavily from the intensity of their orgasms.

Seungmin panted, leaning into your palm and making eye contact with Felix. “Did you…?”

Felix nodded, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Yeah.”

The three of you smiled wide, your heartbeats in sync as Seungmin shifted you to lay properly on the bed, carefully helping Felix collapse next to you. He felt warmth spread through his chest, seeing the both of you blissed out and exhausted. “Hold on, I’ll get something to clean up.”

Felix snorted. “Always cleaning, huh?”

Seungmin rolled his eyes fondly, standing and moving to the bathroom to get a washcloth, grabbing a few of his shirts and clean pairs of your respective underwear.

His mind swarmed with thoughts—both good and unpleasant. But he pushed them away for another time. He just wanted to curl up around you and fall asleep, perhaps he could deal with them in the morning.

But returning, he froze, his eyes locked onto you and Felix tucked in together on the bed, you pressing soft kisses along the boy's face. Felix’s little laughs were a complete contrast to his persona he had brought earlier, but still so entirely Felix. It made Seungmin’s chest tighten. And in the short time, he had been gone, you had managed to throw your hair up and out of your face, letting him see every little bruise and bite Felix had left on your neck.

The picture was both so perfect and so heartbreaking.

Finally, your lips landed a quick kiss on his, your eyes soft as Felix leaned in for another and another. You giggled, rolling to rest your weight on him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Gently brushing Felix’s golden hair from his eyes, you sighed, “I love you, Lix.”

He smiled, tugging you closer. “I love you more.”

Seungmin never thought it would hurt to hear you say those words to each other—it was so pure, so intimate. He actually felt like he was intruding on something, which was foreign when it came to you and Felix. Never before had he felt like an outsider, it had always been the three of you against everything.

He knew it would change after you realized their feelings for you, but never like this.

He was brought out of his thoughts by your sweet voice, his eyes snapping to you, and his heart aching at your pretty smile. “Hm? W-What was that?”

You frowned briefly, catching the hitch in his voice, “What’s wrong, Minnie?”

He quickly threw the washcloth to Felix, his friend catching it with ease as he carefully placed your clothes on the bed. “Nothing. Just tired.” He cleared his throat, motioning back towards the bathroom. “I’m just going to take a shower, yeah?”

And without waiting for your reply, he slid out of the room, finally catching his breath.

His heart thundered in his chest, the warm feeling of embarrassment encasing his face. He quickly turned the shower on and leaned against the wall for a moment to compose himself. Listening to the water run, he felt a sting at the back of his eyes, cursing as he pressed his palms against them.

As much as he wanted to regret what just happened, he couldn’t—it was solely the best moment of his life, after taking you to that silly high school dance where you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and he could feel your warm breath against his neck. That was the first time you told him that you loved him.

Granted, it was only as a friend, but the moment still made his stomach twist in knots.

Running a hand through his hair, he stepped into the shower. Seeing you and Felix together intimately was one of the biggest reasons why he didn’t want to go to America and the only reason why he tried to date Sarah. And confusingly enough, after tonight, he wasn’t sure if he was just upset about his chances with you being gone, or if he was upset about both of you being in love with someone else.

Did he really love both of his best friends?

“Seungmin?”

He jumped at the sound of your voice, gripping onto the shower curtain to keep balance. He must’ve been so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear you open the door.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah?”

The curtain pulled back and his eyes widened to see not only you but Felix—both of you still naked. Your expression showed your concern, and despite being naked in front of the two people he recently discovered that he was in love with, he couldn’t help but feel bad for making you worry.

You sighed, sharing a look with Felix, before stepping into the shower in front of Seungmin, back facing the running water. Felix followed suit, taking the place behind you and pushing Seungmin out of the reach of the warm water. He could hardly care though, with the two most beautiful people he had ever seen, naked, and only inches away from him.

“Minnie, tell us what’s wrong. We’ve known you for our whole life, you can’t say you’re ‘just tired’ and think we won’t notice you’re upset.” You said, running your hands over his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him.

Seungmin swallowed. “I don’t—”

“Seriously, Min,” Felix huffed, leaning against your back to catch Seungmin’s wandering eyes. “Tell us what’s wrong. We haven’t gotten this far by not talking to each other.”

It broke your heart to see him like this. Especially since you didn’t know what caused it��

“I think I’m in love with both of you.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt Felix’s grip on your shoulders suddenly tighten. You really didn’t expect him to say that.

“We love you too, Min,” Felix said, brows creasing in question. “You know that.” His voice was hoarse, he sounded choked up.

Seungmin felt goosebumps rise over his skin, but he knew it was due to Felix’s words and not because he was cold standing outside of the stream of water. “I know you guys do. I get it…” He trailed off as a conclusion. It was stupid, he knew that, but he was a lot more insecure than he let on.

You glanced back at Felix, and you locked guilty eyes. As his best friend, you knew that Seungmin didn’t like sharing his feelings freely, so you should’ve seen his grief coming.

Biting your lip, you took Seungmin’s face in your hands, directing him to look at you. His eyes were glossy and wide, and you could feel your heart clench in your chest at the sight of the innocent little puppy that you grew up with. “Seungmin, you don’t get it. We love you too—so so much.” You smiled, leaning up to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I love you too, Seungmin.” Felix swallowed, clearing his dry throat. “More than you know.”

He couldn’t fathom the chances of his world coming together so perfectly, it just seemed so impossible in his mind to be able to have you both. All his life he had called the two of you his—his best friends, his soulmates, his partners, whatever title seemed to fit. But he never believed that there would ever be a day where he was able to just call you his.

Maybe he finally could.

In a burst of emotion, Seungmin pushed forward, leaning down to kiss Felix. Your body was suddenly stuck between the two boys, your hands wrapping around Seungmin’s shoulders as his arms snaked around your waist, holding you tight against him.

Growing up, Seungmin never liked his family home. It was too big, way too empty—filled with many memories that he would rather not think of. It didn’t feel like a home to him. And you and Felix replaced that empty space. You gave him comfort and Felix gave him security, and he loved every bit of what you all shared. So he didn’t mind that he didn’t have a home.

But standing in the smallest shower in the world, with you and Felix by his side, he felt different.

Pulling away from Felix, he panted, licking the taste of his best friend from his lips. You giggled at the goofy smiles on their faces, placing a quick kiss on Seungmin’s cute nose.

Both boys stared down at you—their girl—in complete and devoted awe.

457 notes · View notes

marvelfansince08love · 4 years ago

Text

Jealousy Sin

Word Count: 4397

Pairing: Lou Miller x Tammy x Reader - Established Poly Relationship

Prompts “You’re so pretty” “And you are drunk, darling”, “Wait, say that again”, “Go fuck yourself,” “How about you fuck me yourself, you coward?!”, “Come on now, dear. Let’s not torture her any longer”

Warning: NSFW 18+, bad smut writing lmao.

A/N; @existentialcrisiscat thank you for sending in this request and look just in time for your birthday tomorrow! I send you my best wishes and I hope you enjoy this early bday present, July babies are the best!

Thank you @imnotasuperhero for reading over this! Second attempt at poly smut so enjoy the mess lmao!

Permanent Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers

I do not own these pictures!

Prompts 14,16,20,39 “You know that the heart of a shrimp is located in its head and that a snail can sleep for 2 to 3 years continuously,” You excite, reciting from a ‘50 fun facts’ book Constance left lying around the lounge area of Lou’s apartment building. Your back against Tammy’s side with your legs stretched out on the sofa while she twirls a strand of your hair around her finger loosely peeking over to look at the ridiculous book. You hear Lou scoff from the open kitchen, making her way to where you are. She hands you both a glass of wine each before grabbing a hold of your ankles and lifting them up from the sofa so she can sit close to you; your legs now stretched out across her lap.

“That’s ridiculous babe. You read the weirdest stuff.” She teases, tickling your feet lightly making you squirm and yelp slightly at the sudden sensation making her eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Hey! It’s true, see!” You turn the book around for her to read.

“She’s right Lou. They are real facts,” Tammy defends teasing the older woman slightly, knowing that it’s usually you against them. You smile smugly at her as she snatches the book from you grumbling about ‘the mess that girl brings every time she’s round here’ making you and Tammy laugh. The back and forth exchange continues for some time as you all enjoy a rare peaceful night in; with another successful heist for the two woman and your new promotion underway, the lighthearted mood continues into the late night with loving kisses exchanged and sweet caresses as you all stumble into bed, tangled up in sheets and limbs as hot wet kisses are pressed on warm glistening skin.

Being with Lou and Tammy for the past six month has been the most wonderful ride you have ever been on and you never want it to stop.

Pure Paradise

Two weeks later

Over the past two weeks the little bubble you three had created started to show cracks leaving you feeling insecure and down right pissed off. You see, being with two women who lead a life of crime no matter how elegantly and successfully they do it, can be difficult. Their planning has to be precise with no page left unturned, if one thing goes wrong it could mean prison for them and no one wants that. They’ve only ran one big heist since you started dating but you were in your honeymoon phase with them back then, they could do no wrong in your eyes. The less frequent phone calls and texts were justified when the two women hung the moon in your mind:

‘It’s a big job they have. They need to focus and make sure it goes right, they still love and care for you the same, Y/N’. Debbie would remind you quietly away from the others, always aware and seeing behind the fake persona.

“You are not going out, Y/N. That’s final.” You stand in your black turtleneck dress and heels, arms crossed in defiance.

“Yes, I am. I’m celebrating my promotion with my colleagues whether you two like it or not.”

“Come on, darling. Stay with us we had this reservation booked for tonight for weeks,” Tammy pleads slightly a little confused by your decline. You usually love date nights, especially when it involves the two of them and food from your favourite restaurant.

“Why are you being like this Y/N? You’ve been distant the last week and a half and don’t think we haven’t noticed you sneaking out of our room in the middle of the night to sleep in the guest room.” You scoff at the word ‘our’.

‘It hasn’t been our room for the last two weeks’ You think spitefully.

“Why do you even care Lou! You and Tammy have been so busy with each other the past two weeks, you barely noticed me leave last week for TWO DAYS Lou. It took two days for either of you to message me and then when I am here you’re both hovering over building prints and potential crew members, I understand that this isn’t something I’m a part of but you could at least act like me not being a part of this doesn’t affect our relationship!” You shout aiming your anger at both women. While Tammy has the decency to look guilty and slightly apologetic, Lou’s face turns hard and cold.

“I’m sorry if our job has taken an importance over yours for once! We thought you understood what you were getting yourself into when we asked you to be a part of our lives Y/N, stop being a clingy brat and grow up.” Lou rages, her chest raising and falling heavily. Tammy takes a step forward to chastise Lou for her burst of anger but before she can intervene you hold up a hand indicating for Tammy to stop as you chuckle humorlessly with unushered tears, speechless. You shake your head in disbelief before grabbing your clutch and rushing for the door and heading into the night.

***

The bar is crowded, full of warm bodies pressed closely together as the dim blue lights glow over the dance floor. You feel the rush of alcohol swarm your mind making you dizzy as you sway lightly to the beat of the sound, you notice your phone illuminate with missed calls and worried texts from your significant others. Your pissed and upset state had quickly changed once you had hit your first bottle of wine and twirled around on the dance floor with your colleagues after some time and a few tequila shots later, the fight you had with them seems miles away. You feel funny and brave as you see Tammy’s name flash on your phone and press the green icon to answer.

“Well... hello gorgeous,” You flirt, your voice deep and slurred.

“Y/N? I can’t hear you much. Darling, please tell me where you are so I can come and get you and bring you home to us?” You scoff at that before stumbling towards the smoking area by the front of the club.

“Tam-Tam, I’m fine. Apparently I’m a brat and this is what brats do right?” You mock, hearing Lou sigh slightly in the background:

‘Is that her? Let me talk to her’ You hear Tammy hush her as if batting her hand away from the phone making you giggle.

Tammy has always been the calmer mediator between you and Lou.

‘You drive her crazy with your bratty ways Y/N’ Tam teased one evening her hand wrapped tightly around your waist as you shrugged in fake innocence while watching Lou struggle to contain herself from across the room at her makeshift bar where she stood with Rose and Debbie, you and Tammy knew that the dress you were wearing was a little on the short side and showed your chest off beautifully driving them both wild, especially Lou.

“Baby you know she didn’t mean it… you know how hot headed she can get,” Tammy murmurs, bringing an offended ‘hey’ out of Lou in the background. You roll your eyes and huff, knowing how right she is.

“Why don’t you tell me where you are darling? We miss you,” Tammy confesses softly, making your heart flutter slightly. But with dutch courage in your system, you simply roll your eyes.

“Well it doesn’t feel like you have missed me at all,” You murmur, leaning heavily against the wall of the club watching the nightlife before you.

“You know that's not true and I’m only going to ask you this one more time Y/N. Where are you?”

“Eye spy with my little eye, something being with L.” You giggle at your attempt of humour giggling loudly as Tammy huffs on the other side of the phone.

“Hilarious babe, really.”

“You're supposed to say Lamppost,silly!” You exclaim, hiccuping in between your sentence making you giggle once more.

“I’m coming to get you,” Tammy states, you can hear her moving around as if gathering her keys and heading for the door but not before hearing her and Lou argue about who’s going to get you. You sigh in defeat, knowing you have had far too much to drink and secretly want to go home so you can wrap yourself up in their warmth.

“I’m at Russo’s.” You mumble, sulking in defeat before hanging up. Your colleague Matt pops his head out of the door scanning the smoking area, looking for you. He sees you and waves before striding over.

“Hey Y/N! Come back inside, Lucy is bringing another round to the table. We’re celebrating in style tonight sweetheart.” You cringe subtly at the pet name before smiling weakly at him.

“I’m actually waiting for my ride. I think I’ve reached my limit for the night.” You try to joke making him laugh a little too much, he steps closer to you and leans against the wall next to you as he lights a cigarette before offering you one. You shake your head in decline before scanning the street hoping to see Tammy’s ‘soccer mom’ car.

“You look amazing tonight, by the way. Those two women sure are lucky.” Matt compliments, his eyes scanning you from head to toe lingering too long on your chest making you wrap your leather jacket around you, hiding from his lustful look. You step back to try and put some distance between you.

“Oh uh, thank you and if anyone should be the lucky one it’s definitely me.” You state trying to put the point across.

Fuck off!

“Have you ever thought of expanding this ‘little relationship’ to four people or is it a women’s only type of thing?” You gape at him in disgust as he shrugs his shoulders and smiles cheekily thinking he’s being charming. Before you can retaliate you feel a strong arm wrap around you from behind, making you smile slightly knowing that familiar pull of electricity.

“We are perfectly happy with the three of us Mr.Lawson, if you would kindly remove yourself away from my girlfriend before I send you back in there with an even higher pitched voice than before that would be much appreciated,” Tammy suggests, her voice hard and commanding making you shiver slightly at her authoritative tone. She stands tall in her heels, putting herself slightly in front of you, blocking his view of you. You watch as he gulps and stutters over his words, his face red in embarrassment as he stumbles an apology before heading back inside. You go to tease her about throwing her top energy around like that in front of others outside of the bedroom but her face shows that she’s in no laughing mood, you throw her your most doe eyed look making her sigh in defeat; never being able to stay mad at you.

“Come on baby, let’s get you home.” She mutters into your ear as she pulls you closer to her side while guiding you over towards her car.

You fumble around trying to get comfortable in the seat, once situated you relax against the warm seat as it heats up around you making you sigh contently. You lean your head to the side and face Tammy, taking in her soft features and full lips as the street lights hit her side profile making her look like an angel.

“You’re so pretty,” You mumble to her, as you brush a finger across her cheek lightly and tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“And you are drunk, darling,” She teases back dismissively, although her soft smile and tinge of pink on her cheeks shows how affected she is by your statement. You grin lazily at her as you feel sleep succumb bringing you into darkness.

***

You wake by the sound of Tammy’s whispering voice coaxing you awake.

“Come on darling, you need to wake up. You can’t stay in here all night,” She whispers, shaking you slightly.

“5 more minutes, mom.” You mumble, turning away from her making her laugh out loud which causes you to wake, eyes wide at your slip up.

“Wait, say that again.” She asks, subtly getting her phone out.

“You better put that phone away Tammy or I’m going to stay with Debbie for the night.” You threaten, knowing how jealous her and Lou get whenever Debbie flirts with you to tease her best friends; which you are more than happy to go along with. She scowls playfully.

“Fine fine, come on then, you lightweight. We better get in before Lou sends out a search party for the both of us.” She murmurs, climbing out of her side and walking around to help you out of the car. You frown suddenly realising that it was only Tammy who came to get you.

“Is she still really mad at me?” You ask sadly, starting to sober up slightly and relaying the fight from earlier in your head.

Tammy helps you out of the vehicle and wraps an arm around your waist before giving you a reassurance kiss on your temple.

“Yes… but not as pissed off as she was earlier on. She… we both know we’ve been rather neglectful of you lately and we promise to make it up to you.” She confesses, her eyes showing how sorry she is.

“I’m sorry for acting out like I did… I know how important it is to make sure the job runs smoothly, I should have been more understanding. I’m sorry Tam-Tam.’ You apologise, pecking her cheek lightly.

You both walk steadily through the front door but stop in your tracks when you notice Lou sitting casually on one of the single chairs in the living room area, her legs spread wide in her black suit pants and white open button shirt revealing a peek of her black bra making you and Tammy gulp.

“Lou I..” She holds her hand up, silencing your apology.

“Did he touch you?” You frown in confusion not fully understanding her meaning.

“Who?”

“That guy from work, did he touch you?”

“How do you know about th-”

“Nine-ball,” you all say in unison, although Lou and Tammy’s casual tone in answer contrasting with your pissed off one doesn’t go unnoticed by either woman.

“You were checking up on me through the security cameras!? Nice to know that not only am I a selfish brat, I'm also an unloyal one,” You snap towards them both as Tammy reaches for your hand, making you step back.

“You know that’s not the reason, love. We didn’t know where you were, we needed to make sure you were safe,” Lou reasons for them both while Tammy nods in agreement, moving towards the middle space between you and Lou.

“Oh because you care so much, fuck you both and your possessive asses.” You snapped in reply.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen me possessive yet sweetheart.” She says cockily as Tammy hums in agreement, clearly staying mutual within this argument you think sarcastically.

“Well maybe I should go back out there and find him then, let’s see the real Tammy and Lou.“ You taunt, watching as both Tammy and Lou’s eyes flash dark, making your confident smug attitude flutter slightly.

“Go fuck yourself,” Lou spats clearing hitting a nerve, making you retaliate.

“How about you fuck me yourself, you coward?!” You fight back, not realising that during your heated argument Tammy had slowly made her way behind you. You watch as Lou’s tense figure deflates. Her crystal blues flash with lust, swallowing quietly knowing that look all too well; the look that haunts your wet dreams whenever you’re apart from them.

“Is that what you want Y/N, you want us to show you who you belong to?” Lou questions grinning slightly, knowing that's exactly what you want while standing from the chair and stalking over towards you. She rolls up her sleeves slowly revealing the tattoos on her forearm as Tammy stands behind you placing her hands on either side of your hip keeping you in place, smirking knowingly. You shiver in anticipation, loving when they both take control over you.

“I dunno Lou. Do you think she deserves it after the stunt she’s pulled tonight?” Tammy questions Lou as if you weren’t trapped between the two women as Lou creeps dangerously closer, you bite your lip trying to hold back a moan as you feel Tammy’s wet tongue trace the shell of your ear. You watch as those blue eyes grow darker as they follow the direction of Tammy’s tongue carefully. Lou presses her front against your own; chest to chest, her nose brushing over yours before moving over your cheekbone and towards your ear, you watch from the corner of your eye as Tammy and Lou share a heated kiss over your shoulder making you groan loudly. This seems to draw their attention away from each other, their matching grins doing nothing to help the creeping wave of pleasure that ignites deep within your core.

“Oh look Tam, it seems our darling girl wants our attention. Do you think we should give it to her?”

‘Yes!’ You scream internally. Tammy laughs and takes sympathy to your doe-eyed expression gently cupping your face and turning you slightly towards her so she can place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I think we should... Besides we owe her an apology, I’m sure we can make it up to her.” Tammy mutters between placing quick wet kisses along the side of your jaw and neck. With that Lou swoops in and lifts you over her shoulder making you yelp out loud causing Tammy to giggle at her girlfriend’s actions before she slaps your ass and shushes you while she races ahead up the stairs, her hips swaying showing Lou her plump behind. You hear Lou growl low at Tammy’s teasing demeanor as she follows slowly after her up the stairs mindful of you being over her shoulder.

“Oh, am I just some sort of slave that you can carry around, you caveman?” You accuse, earning you a slap on the ass.

“Ow! Watch it Miller. You know how tender my ass is,”

“And I can’t wait to see that gorgeous ass all red on our bed, baby.” You squirm at that making Lou chuckle.

She carries you into your shared bedroom before slowly lowering you down making you brush fronts as your feet touch the ground. She places a tender kiss to your mouth before looking over your shoulder and grinning, her eyes filled with glee and admiration. You turn around to face the bed, understanding Lou’s expression. Sitting upright against the headboard on top of satin sheets wearing a black lingerie babydoll set is Tammy. You lick your lips at the sight of her, drinking her in.

“Did you have this on underneath those ‘mom’ clothes?” You tease, watching her roll her eyes at your poorly timed humor, loving it nevertheless. Her smirk confirms your suspicions. You watch as she slowly makes her way towards you both crawling on her hands and knees until she reaches the bottom of the bed, she kneels tall and beckons you both closer. You follow her call like a pirate to a siren as you are about to touch her, Lou wraps an arm around you, her chin against your shoulder.

“You are far too overdressed,” she whispers huskily into your ear, as she slowly unzips the back of your dress letting it fall to the floor in a heap before placing sweet kisses along your shoulder blades and spanking your ass hard. You close your eyes at the sensation and the feeling of cold air hitting against your warm skin, you feel a second pair of hands skim over your front tracing light touches across your chest before wrapping gently around your neck pulling your forward an inch as full luscious lips meet your own making you both moan in unison. You open your eyes and meet deep brown pools so full of love and passion.

“Now, who's the one overdressed?” You tease making Tammy smirk mischievously before you both draw your attention to Lou who has left staggered marks along your neck and shoulder. She pulls away slightly and smirks as she unfastens the buttons of her dress shirt, you crotch in front of her and yank her suit trousers down in one sweep letting her step of them, you kiss your way back up her body while Tammy pushes her shirt off her shoulders, leaving us all equally in some state of undressed. Tammy grabs hold of your hand and pulls you towards the bed letting you fall onto your back as she crawls to lie beside you leaving trails of kisses up your body, you eye Lou who stands tall and confident at the foot of the bed in just her briefs; her bra now discarded into the pile of clothes on the floor. She slowly makes her way onto the bed as she licks, bites and kisses her way up your leg towards your inner thigh making you moan and clench slightly.

“You can only cum if one of us says okay baby girl.” Tammy commands softly into your ear, you whimper and nod your head in agreement as Lou pulls your panties down your leg before placing a light kiss against your wet heat making you shudder at the sensitive flesh. Before you could catch your breath Lou dives her tongue deep into your entrance, fucking you with her tongue as Tammy wraps her mouth around your sensitive nipple biting gently, making you moan out loud with pleasure. They both continue their tongue motion over and over again making your body hot and wet with need for release but with Tammy’s words swirling around in your head, you hold off from releasing your pleasure. Lou slowly removes her tongue from your wet folds and presses a kiss on your clit before soaring forward to Tammy and kissing her hard and clumsily letting her tongue tangle with hers, they both moan enjoying the taste of you. You lick your lips at the raw sight of them both above you and whine for their attention as they both look back towards you once again.

“Come on now. Dear. Let’s not torture her any longer,” Tammy teases, pulling away from Lou’s lips.

Lou moves to your other side and lets her tongue skim across your bottom lip before pressing her pale lips more firmly against your own, you feel another pair of lips on your own; the taste of vanilla lingers on your mouth knowing Tammy has joined you both in the fight for dominance as tongues tangle and clash together. You pull apart slowly savouring the moment before Tammy moves south towards your legs, wrapping her delicate hands around your ankles and pulling you further down the bed slightly. You frown in confusion before realising she was making room for Lou to sit comfortably above you with her thighs on either side of your face, you can see her arousal from above you making you whimper in want, licking your lips eagerly. You can practically hear the smirk in her voice:

“Always so eager baby,” she teases, lowering herself a little bit more towards your awaiting mouth. You flick the tip of your tongue over her clit making her squirm and gasp you grin smugly knowing exactly where she likes it the most before taking the sensitive bundle of nerves between your teeth and wrapping your mouth around it, sucking hard. Your mouth releases her clit momentarily as you gasp at the feeling of two cold fingers filling your entrance and curling, hitting your most sensitive spot making you cry out as Tammy picks up her pace.

“So wet and needy tonight darling.” She mutters before diving between your legs and taking your clit into her mouth. You feel Lou’s thighs tighten a fraction around your head making you refocus back onto the enjoyable task of making Lou come. You all continue to rile each other up, picking up your pace, thrusting your tongue deeper into her heat as you grind your hips further onto Tammy’s fingers. Tammy moans as she moves to sit in between your thigh as you bend your knee just enough to add pressure against her wet folds allowing her to grind herself against your bare skin, you bring your thumb over to her clit rubbing the sensitive nerves hard making her moan loudly. The room fills with loud cries of passion as desperate bodies continue to thrust against one another, the knot in your stomach begins to become tighter, you squint your eyes trying to hold off your orgasm.

“Come for us baby, I want to hear you scream.” Lou breathes above you as she grinds hard one more time before allowing her own release. Lou removes herself from above you and lies lazily on her side facing you both, rubbing her fingers over her heat while she watches you and Tammy continue to grind roughly against one another; your fingers working faster and deeper as you both throw your head back in pure ecstasy letting yourself ride out your orgasm on Tammy’s fingers. Tammy collapses against your glistening skin leaning her head against your shoulder as you brush your fingertips softly against her back making her purr ever so slightly. Lou moves from her position and sits upright against the headboard gesturing for you both to join her, Tammy removes herself from your lap as you crawl over to Lou’s awaiting arms and curl into her side. Tammy moves to your other side and drapes an arm over your waist resting her hand gently on Lou’s hip, brushing her thumb back and forth; resting her forehead between your shoulder blades. You feel Tammy’s warm breath against your glistening skin as she speaks softly.

“You belong with us Y/N. Don’t ever think we don’t love you or want you...we wouldn’t be us without you” With that said, she presses a light kiss to your back while Lou hums in agreement pulling you closer, her arm reaching across locking you in between their embrace, you smile cheekily.

“So does this mean I’m still a brat?”

A slight pinch to your hip bone is your only reply.

#lou miller x reader #tammy x reader #I'm a hoe for lou miller and Tammy #prompt request #oceans 8 #lou x tammy #poly relationship #smut fic #cate blanchett x reader #sarah paulson x reader

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whumpingcrow · 3 years ago

Text

Pt.14 "Honeymoon"

CW: injury mention/description, unconscious whumpee, bondage, panic attack mention, memory loss, teeth pulling mention (brief, vague), drugs/alcohol, creepy/intimate whumper, death mention, gun mention (brief), abduction, car setting, airport setting, security guards, plane setting, plane crash discussion, tics/tourettes (pretty explicit), August needs his own warning (let me know if i missed anything!)

Elias felt heavy when he woke up, like his head was full of sand. He couldn't open his eyes for a moment, just heard distant, almost panicked voices. After a few seconds, he was hit with an onslaught of pain so bad that his ears were ringing and he could feel his throat closing up. After he adjusted to it (it never faded when it was this bad, he just was able to feel around it, live with it), he realized his hands were tied behind him and he was propped up on a chair. A groan slipped past his lips as he lifted his head up, trying with every last bit of energy to open his eyes.

"Ah, there he is," he heard someone say, "good morning, sweetheart."

"Don't fucking touch him!" That was Tyson, Elias recognized his horrified voice instantly. Why was he so upset? Who else was here? Why the hell couldn't he open his eyes?

"Come on, bunny, wake up." Now when the voice spoke it was accompanied by a hand on his cheek, and he whined at the soreness that lit up there when it was touched. He couldn't remember anything happening, He remembered, through the hazy memory of a panic attack, Tyson telling him that Allen and Leo were there, and then he left the room. Elias waited in the bedroom, standing numbly in front of the closet on shaking legs, trying to gather his thoughts as he pulled on a shirt. But then what?

He finally forced his eyes open, squinting up at the blurry figure in front of him. It took him a few seconds to focus, but when he did his entire chest lit up in a dull panic and he tried to snap his head away from his gentle fingertips against his skin. August only laughed. "Careful, don't hurt yourself."

Elias looked past August, and Tyson was tied up in one of the other kitchen chairs, looking just as beat up as Elias felt. "Oh god," he whimpered, dropping his head down in despair, "oh god!"

"Don't be so dramatic. Didn't you miss me?" August knelt in front of him, taking his face in his hands and smiling. "God, I haven't been able to get you off my mind."

"Please," Elias sobbed, "please stop, August. Please."

At those words, Augusts face softened, and he looked human, almost sad. Elias always felt uneasy when he did that, it was so hard to tell if the sudden affection and compassion was real or if he just wanted Elias to think he liked him. And Elias was stupid, because every time it made him confused and doubtful because how the hell could the person who had gotten so high once he tried to pull out Elias's teeth suddenly have emotions? Where did he hide them away, when he was torturing Elias like it was his purpose? August ran his thumb across Elias's face, wiping his tears away. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry. That last day I...I never meant to go that far. I didn't mean to hurt you so bad. And I am so unbelievably sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

"You killed me!" He shot back. As soon as the sentence echoed back to him and he realized how he'd yelled, he snapped his mouth shut and braced himself as much as he could. He was surprised when August didn't hit him or get angry, only nodded sadly.

"I know. I'm so sorry, angel-"

"Get away from him you fucking asshole!" Tyson shouted again. August took a deep, aggravated breath before he stood straight, slowly making his way across the kitchen to Tyson. Tyson sat straighter as he approached, as straight and tall as he could with the ropes securing him to the chair. He tried to look brave, but he had seen the videos and the pictures, he had seen the aftermath of August's violence on both Elias and Allen, he knew the damage this monster could cause.

Elias watched on in horror as August swung, nearly knocking the chair over with how hard he hit Tyson.

"August!" He shrieked, pulling hard at the ropes around his wrists. "August stop hurting him!"

August tipped his head back, groaning in exasperation. Elias looked at Tyson, who was caved in on himself, trying to steady is ragged breathing. Elias couldn't help but think that it was all his fault, that if he had just stayed dead Tyson would not be hurting and in danger right now.

"Eli," August said, turning back to him. Elias flinched, looking up at him with wide, tearful eyes. "I can't stand being away from you, angel. It's tearing me apart."

"I don't...August, I c-cant..." He dropped his head down as a sob tore through him, squeezing his eyes shut. He gasped when August grabbed his shoulders hard, leaned away from him as much as he could. "P-please, August. Please stop this."

"I have to leave here, I'm going out of country until things settle down." He grabbed Elias's face, forcing him to look up at him. Elias finally opened his eyes as August smiled that warm, almost welcoming smile that always dropped Elias into a confused spiral. "I want you to come with me. I can make you so happy, Eli. We can be together all the time and be so happy. Remember how great it is to be together? Remember-"

"Don't listen to him Elias," Tyson pleaded, "he's lying to you, don't listen to him."

Elias sobbed when August started to pull away from him, knowing he was going to hurt Tyson again. "August, d-dont! Please don't!"

"Elias you need me!" August insisted. His voice had an edge of desperation, like he really was torn up about being away from Elias. "I know that you need me, you're doing horribly without me. I can see that and I know you can see that. Come with me."

"I can't. You...you're gonna hurt me and I can't...I can't deal with anymore pain."

August shook his head to himself, a look on his face that said 'you give me no other choice', then slowly pulled a handgun out of his waist band. "Suit yourself, then." He huffed, lifting the gun toward Tyson.

"No! No August stop wait!" Elias screamed, fighting hard against the rope, absolute panic coating every word he cried. "I'll go with you! Don't hurt him, please!"

August froze, then slowly lowered the gun. Elias felt a helpless sob tear through him and August sighed. "I knew you'd come to your senses," he tucked the gun away and stepped towards him to undo the rope around his wrists, "that's my good boy."

Elias stood on trembling legs when he was able to, clutching at August's shirt so he wouldn't fall. August looped his arm around him to help him stand, or just to touch him, it really could be either. The disgusting familiarity of the way August touched him made him want to cry.

"Don't do this, Elias!" Tyson cried, thrashing in the chair to try and free himself. He was losing Elias again, he was helpless and Elias was going to be hurt again and he couldn't do anything. It was agonizing to watch him limp toward the front door all wrapped up in August, leaning heavily against him. "Don't you fucking leave me!"

"I'm s-so sorry Tyson," he gasped, "I'm so fucking s-sorry."

Before either of them could say anything else, August pulled him out of the apartment and into a van. The second they were sitting down, Elias collapsed in on himself and began sobbing harder, his lungs heaving. August pulled him into his chest, holding him close.

"It's ok, bunny," he soothed him, "just breathe. You're alright."

It took him a long time to calm himself down, especially because every time he heard August's voice it sent him panicking again, but after awhile he pushed himself away from August and wrapped his arms around himself, looking out the window at the passing traffic.

"What happened to your face?" August asked, trailing his knuckles over his cheek gently. Elias tensed up, closing his eyes.

"It doesn't matter." He muttered. He wondered why August was asking that, didn't he send that man to the party himself, to hurt Elias? He probably just wanted to hear him admit to it, to describe what happened in detail. Elias bet that August would probably like that, the sick fuck, and so he didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Don't be like that, sweetheart. Tell me what happened."

With a huff, Elias retold the story, told him he knew that August had sent him, that it was painful, that he bled, all the grimy little things he knew August wanted to hear. By the end of it, he was shocked to see August looking rather displeased. He was silent, and it made Elias's skin crawl just as it always did, but then he sighed and forced a small smile onto his face.

"I'm glad you're here with me," he said, as if Elias had never said anything at all, "everything feels...right again." He glanced down at Elias, smiling wider at him. "Did you miss me?" He asked.

Elias looked up at him, a frown on his face. August didn't look any different than before, he was still handsome and clean shaven and unforgiving. His dark hair was slicked back out of his face, his dark blue eyes eerily flat, the smile he put on didn't quite reach them. In a way, Elias was glad he was seeing his face, that he didn't have to linger on the last memory of being choked to death anymore. "Yeah," he rasped out, "yeah, I did."

August smiled widely at him, it looked so genuine for a second that Elias felt a tiny inkling of relief. He was still rigid when August kissed him, but he leaned toward him obediently. It felt so familiar, his strong hand holding his face steady and his tongue slipping through his lips. "God, Eli, you have no idea how badly I missed you. It absolutely ruined me, what I did to you."

"I wanted you to," Elias admitted, "I was pissing you off on purpose so you'd kill me."

August chuckled, shaking his head. "Still, I shouldn't have taken it that far. I'm so happy you're still here."

Elias was surprised when they got to an airport, August definitely had balls, he had to give him that. He didn't know how he kept getting away with any of it, with getting out of jail and making it to other places with no issue. Even as they walked through security, he seemed relaxed and unbothered. Elias was more nervous than him, and he wasn't even the one in trouble. Even the security must've noticed his anxiety, because at one point one of them squared up to him, looking him up and down.

"How are you doing this morning?" One of them asked. She was short and stout, her voice firm yet sweet. Elias glanced over at August, who was seemingly making jokes with another security guard a few feet ahead of him.

"I've never been on a plane before," Elias mumbled, "I'm a little nervous."

She smiled warmly at him, watching in curiosity as he kept checking to see what August was doing, where he was. "Well you look like you're nervous about more than flying," she observed, "if you have anything to share with me I could take you to customs. It's more private."

Elias tensed, thinking for a moment about the offer. This could all be over if he just told her what was happening, she could call someone and August would go back to jail. But even then he wasn't sure it would end there, August had proven time and time again that jail wasn't going to stop him, and he didn't want Tyson to really get hurt. It was easier this way, to just go quietly and let August do what he wanted to him, at least then he would take all the pain instead of the people he cared about.

"No, I'm fine, thank you." He smiled weakly at her, then turned to see August watching them carefully. He thanked her again, then walked over to meet him.

"I hope you're not getting cold feet," he joked, "don't want things to get messy, do we?"

Elias shook his head quickly and leaned against him. "No, I want this."

August smiled at him, reaching out to pet his hair. "Thats good, bunny."

Once they were on the plane, Elias was even more nervous. His whole life he had been too broke to go anywhere, and he honestly didn't think he'd ever get the chance to go on a plane. And now that he was, he was with the worst possible person.

"What's wrong baby?" August whispered. He reached out and placed a hand over his leg. Elias looked at him, face twisted into a frown, and shrugged.

"Ive never been on a plane. I'm nervous." He frowned more when August chuckled softly and grabbed his hand.

"You'll be ok. I've got you." He sighed when Elias leaned his head against his shoulder, running his thumb over his hand. "You have no idea how terribly I missed you Eli. I missed holding you, I missed having you in my arms." Now he was whispering, his lips in Elias's hair as he spoke.

"You know, you did a really good job at making me repulsive. Tyson couldn't even look at me shirtless."

"You're not repulsive, little one. Not at all." He kissed his forehead gently as he spoke, brushing his hair back. "You are a work of art. Some people just don't know how to appreciate that."

Elias shook his head. "You're the only one that thinks that."

"I'm the only one that needs to think that." Now he grabbed at his hair, forcing him to tip his head back and look up at him. Elias usually would mind the aggressive contact that much, but with the engines blaring around him and already tight knot of anxiety in his chest, it only made his heart sink in his chest.

"August, please," he whimpered, before August could open his mouth to say anything, "please I'm so nervous already please don't grab me that way." He was surprised as August instantly loosened his grip, grabbing his face gently instead.

"So pretty when you beg like that," he hummed, "I missed hearing my name come out of your mouth."

Elias ignored the comment, instead dropping his head against his chest and closing his eyes.

He tried to sleep for the most part, but everytime he drifted off he was reminded of where he was and who he was with, and he woke up again with a new bout of anxiety. At one point he sat up and August was sleeping, and for a few moments he debated flagging down a flight attendant to help him. It wasn't worth it. Nothing was, at this point. Instead, he turned toward the window, peering down at the blue ocean under them. They were so high up, and so far away from anything. From Tyson.

At that, he started crying softly, covering his face to try and quiet his sniffles. It was so god damn hopeless now, he was going god knows where with the closest thing to evil he'd ever experienced, nothing mattered anymore, life might as well be over.

"What's wrong, angel?" August said, grabbing his shoulders gently. Elias let one muted, broken sob out, then curled into himself to try and stop any more. "Elias, what is it?"

"I'm so s-scared," he whimpered, "I'm terrified."

"We're ok, baby. We'll be there soon, we're perfectly safe." As he spoke, he stroked Elias carefully, trying to calm him down. When Elias shook his head, he realized what he meant: Elias was afraid of him. Not of being in the air, not of the plane crashing, but of being stuck with August. He sighed and pulled him closer, until his forehead was pressed against his shoulder. "I'm gonna be more careful with you, bunny. I know I was really rough with you before, I know better now. You've got nothing to be afraid of. I taught you so well, you can handle a little pain, I know you can."

Elias was silent, and August was suddenly furious with him. He'd spent all this money, not his own of course, and time and effort just to get him and take him some place nice, and now he wasn't speaking to him? And here August was, trying to comfort him. As if he was worth the wadted energy. His hands grew tighter, and just as quickly as he began to console him, his voice became a threatening whisper. "Where do you get off on being afraid, anyways? You said it yourself, I'm the only one who wants you. You don't get to be scared, I'm going to do what I want to you and you're going to shut the fuck up about it. Understand?"

Elias bit back another sob and nodded quickly, waiting for August to let go of him. When he didn't, he just closed his eyes tighter and tried to calm himself. He counted to ten, but he still felt like screaming, so he counted to twenty. Then thirty. Once he was up in the 50s, he began to tic. He jerked against August, whining softly as he did. This was the worst possible time and place for an attack, everyone would look at him, August would be annoyed and ashamed, he had no where to go and hide while he waited it out. He was trapped, and that only made everything worse.

"Son of a fuck!" He gasped, trying, and failing, thanks to his hands that just never wanted to be still enough to be useful, to cover his mouth to quiet himself. Tears were still spilling down his cheeks, his whole body was shaking with the effort of holding back more profanities or punching the chair in front of him as hard as he could, like he knew he would if he wasn't biting it back with everything he had. People had already begun to swivel around and stare at him. He wished he could disappear.

"Eli, calm down," August warned him quietly, "don't shout like that."

"I'm so- bitch!- I'm sorry." He was crying harder now, embarrassed and scared beyond belief. He wanted to break the window and fall to his death, just to be away from all the stares. He ticced again, ramming the heel of his hand against his skull hard, and whined at the pain. "God damn it!"

August must've realized what was happening then, because he wrapped his arms tight around Elias to hold him still, rocking him a bit. Most of the time, August didn't seem to give a shit when Elias was like this. Sure, when his friends came over and they all laughed and amused themselves with it, August would join in. Sometimes he would try to make it worse, try to make Elias as embarrassed and flustered and anxious as he could just so they could all laugh at him when he couldn't help the awful things he was shouting or the strange sounds that he didn't know he could even make or the ridiculous movements of his body that looked idiotic, August told him a few times. Other than those times, he didn't seem to notice or care about them. Only a few times, when it was painfully obvious that Elias was hurting because of it, had August ever comforted him through it. And thank God today was one of those times, Elias thought, as he qstarted saying, "You're ok, Eli. It's all ok."

Elias sobbed, grabbing at August's arm desperately, trying to gain a little stability. He ticced for a few more long, painful minutes, and then grew exhausted against August and his tics turned from violent outbursts to small twitches in his hands and neck. August loosened his grip gradually, then pulled away completely to look at him. He wiped his tears away gently as he inspected him.

"You alright?"

He only nodded in response, then pulled his knees up to his chest to hide his face. People were whispering around them, he knew they were talking about him. He wished they could just get to wherever the hell they were going, get this shit show over and done with in one way or another. Elias couldn't help but wonder if it would end the same as last time, with hands around his throat and edges of his vision dark and such a distant pain Elias wasn't even sure if it was considered his own. He wondered if August was telling the truth and really was going to be more careful and try not to hurt him. He wondered what Tyson was doing right then; he was hoping that he was getting him help and dreading that Tyson was maybe celebrating the fact that Elias was gone again. It took everything he had and more to convince himself that Tyson wouldn't do that, that Tyson loved him (for whatever reason) and wouldn't stop until he was home safe (again, Elias still really couldn't figure out why). After he was able to cling onto that tiny sliver of hope, that Tyson would at least try, he was proud of himself. He kept repeating it to himself in his head : "Tyson will try to find me, Tyson will try to find me" as they flew hundreds of miles further from home by the minute.

The plane began to descend.

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