#and some of them have been burning a hole in my head since 2020 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seita · 4 years ago

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— live now: redlove | eijirou kirishima (m.)

pairing: eijirou kirishima/reader ft. katsuki bakugou.

genre: fluff, smut, pwp

wordcount: 𝟷𝟼𝟹𝟽

cw: cam couple!au, prohero!bakugou, established relationship

tags: voyeurism (bakugou’s pov), dirty talk, masturbation, humilation/degredation, begging, light praise, rough sex, doggy style, choking, hair pulling, light spanking, baku has a crush

note: i have no excuses for this lmao. i was originally gonna make this into a fic where bakugou joins u nd kiri but,,,i kind of want to make this like a series or something????

— bakugou enjoys porn. especially live cam porn. he discovers the cam couple redlove and is immediately smitten.

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next. the lottery: redlove ⇨

Bakugou watched porn. Just like every other guy on the planet. He enjoyed it, especially since as a pro-hero, he didn’t have the opportunity to get into sustainable relationships. He was the #2 hero so finding himself someone who wanted him because he was Katsuki Bakugou and not Ground Zero was near impossible.

So, he turned to porn. Sounds sad now that he thought about it but truthfully, he never thought twice about it. It was just the way things were.

More specifically, he had an interest in cam porn. The live stream kind. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why that was ― there was just something alluring about watching porn live.

Usually, he stuck to solo girl content, every once in a while he’d venture to the male side. It was only recently, however, that he discovered the booming community of couples cams.

Watching couples have sex live was even more enticing than watching men and woman masturbate or watching amateur porn. It seemed so intimate, watching these couples together. Almost forbidden.

And he was sure that was exactly what made him cum so hard every single time. He liked watching these couples have sex, feeling like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to.

Many times, he’d stroke his cock to the idea of being humiliated by a couple as he watched them together. Filthy thoughts and words filtered into his mind, his eyes closed as he panted to the idea. They’d call him disgusting, a pig for getting hard watching ― how only a slut would act as lewd as he did. Maybe they’d shame him; #2 pro hero Ground Zero a pathetic whore.

It wasn’t until one night, he laid in bed browsing the couple’s livestreams on his favorite website, he discovered one couple that immediately caught his eye. The thumbnail showed a redheaded guy with spiky hair sitting on the edge of the bed with a pretty girl with marvelously smooth skin sat behind him with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. The young man’s hair color must have been the inspiration behind their channel name: redlove. He could only assume they had just started the stream and were looking at comments when the picture set.

The stream was titled “We had a long day”. Bakugou couldn’t help but scoff at such a title, it was hardly enticing. Most streams had things like ‘watch me squirt until i cry!!!’ or “he makes my pussy hurt so good” or some other cringy shit. He would have been tempted to scroll past but he couldn’t deny just how attractive the couple was. Not to say there weren’t attractive people doing cam porn, no he’d seen his fair share of beautiful women and handsome men.

But redlove were stunning together. They looked like a perfect match, he could tell just by how you were holding him that just oozed affection for the redhead.

Another thing that caught the blonde’s eye was the view count: most cammers had in the double digits ― 20 or 30 viewers. Every once in a while he’d catch a particularly popular cammer and see a few hundred but it had never exceeded 200. So the live view count, the number of people watching them at that exact moment, was currently displayed on redlove’s stream link had him baffled.

Edging on 800 viewers. Sitting at 782.

It was clear the two of you were immensely popular. There had to be a good reason.

Curious and thoroughly intrigued, he tapped the screen of his phone to get into their stream.

It took a moment to buffer, all the activity with the chat making it lag a bit. When it finally finished loading, Bakugou felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. His cock was immediately hard, straining against his boxers.

It was clear the two of you had been streaming for a while, judging by the fucked out blissful look on your face. Sweat glistened on your skin in the illuminating light of your bedroom.

You were on your hands and knees, your redheaded boyfriend on his knees behind you on a messed up bed, a pillow nearby that Bakugou assumed had been used to prop your hips up at one point. Your hair was wrapped tightly in his fist, using it for leverage as he hammered his cock into what Bakugou could only imagine was an absolutely dripping wet cunt.

The sounds you made were downright sinful, your lips swollen from no doubt kissing and biting. The redhead grunted suddenly, jerking you up onto your knees so your back was pressed against his chest. Bakugou couldn’t resist reaching down to palm his aching cock, throbbing and painful from neglect.

Your boyfriend groaned, glancing at the camera, “Everyone’s got a good view of your little cunt now, huh?” he growled moving his grip from your hair to your throat, “You like that, I can feel you squeezing me at the thought of all these people watching your pussy stretch on my cock. You’re stuffed so fuckin’ full you can barely stand it, isn’t that right?”

Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene. The4 dominance the redhead exuded rivaled his own and the way you so easily fell submissively to him was beautiful. There was so much trust in you ― knowing your boyfriend would take good care of you. Bakugou’s heart ached ever so slightly at the idea ― it was clear your relationship was a good one. It was something the pro hero would never hope to have himself.

You didn’t respond, your eyes rolling back in your head before closing. Your mouth was open, no sounds escaping due to the tight grip the redhead had on your throat. Your head rolled back to rest on his shoulder, legs spread to let him fuck your hole with everything he had. Your weight was braced completely on him, your partner dutifully supporting your body as you let him have his way.

With his free hand, he palmed your breast, pinching your nipple harshly to make you keen. Bakugou felt his cock throb at the sound. It was so whiny, pathetic. You were so completely submissive and at the mercy of your boyfriend. And you were loving every second of it.

Bakugou couldn’t deny he enjoyed witnessing it himself.

Your cunt was stretched wide, the HD camera giving spectacular quality to the way your juices dripped down the length plunging into your body. It dripped off of his balls and down your thighs. So fucking messy.

The redhead’s cock was big, something Bakugou himself could even feel envious of despite his own well-endowed size. Your cunt was tight, no doubt requiring a good amount of preparation to take him. He wondered if you enjoyed the stinging burn of pain when you took the cock. The blonde made a mental note to check out your part streams later.

“Gonna...gonna cum,” you gasped, warning your boyfriend.

He scoffed, sounding annoyed, “Do it then. I don’t give a shit.”

“Please, can’t!” you sobbed, finally opening your eyes to look up at him. He wore a cocky grin, knowing your pleasure laid in his hands.

“Why?” he teased, abandoning his hold on your breast to travel down the soft skin of your stomach, pausing right above where you needed him, “You need me to touch your little clit, hm? Is that what it is?”

You nodded desperately, grinding your hips down every time he sunk his cock into you, hoping to get more than you were being given, “Please!”

“Alright,” he sighed, pressing a kiss against your temple. The gesture was oddly soft and intimate in comparison to the harsh, punishing pace of his cock, “You had a long day. I’ll be nice. You better thank me for making this greedy little cunt cum.”

Finally, his fingers reached your swollen clit. A couple practiced circles over the bud had you tumbling over the edge. Bakugou gripped his cock through the material of his boxers as he watched you tremble and moan as the redhead fucked you through the high.

Letting out a sob at the overstimulation when your boyfriend still didn’t stop when you came down, you choked out, “Th-Thank you!”

“Good girl,” your boyfriend grinned, letting you fall back into your original position with your face buried in the blankets. The redhead tossed his head back, gripping your hips as he fucked into you, chasing his own orgasm. He laid a few harsh slaps against your ass, making you whimper, flinching at the impact but not running from it. Bakugou could hear the sharp sound of his hand making contact with your skin. Now that you had cum, the redhead let himself go.

And he did. Your boyfriend let out a groan of pleasure, announcing his release. He didn’t pull out, pouring his hot cum into your overstimulated cunt.

Bakugou’s cock throbbed once, twice before he was spilling a load of hot cum into his boxers. The white cum oozed through the fibers as his thighs trembled.

When he came back to himself, he looked at the screen to find you had curled up on your side with a dreamy smile aimed at your boyfriend, Bakugou couldn’t help but smile at the screen at how cute you looked. He moved towards the camera with a grin, having already pulled out.

“Thanks for watchin’!” that was all he said before the screen went dark and bold white letters flashed over the screen that said ‘this stream has ended.’

Bakugou’s attention moved to the chat, checking to see what was being talked about.

The comment that caught his eye was, “Eijirou and ______ are literally the power couple of porn.”

Bakugou sighed. Eijirou and ______.

The names of his new favorite cam couple.

#bnha x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima smut #bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #afton.writes

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yourlocalfictionalenthusiast · 3 years ago

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IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART TEN

:Masterlist:

A/N: And that’s a wrap! Ahh, writing this series has been so fun and I’m so glad that so many of you have liked it so much. Thank you guys for staying until the end and hopefully for upcoming stuff 👀 I hope you enjoy the finale of In Life, In Death... <3

(Also the song mentioned in part six and this part is ‘She Is Love’ by Parachute) <3

December 1994

Luke groaned as he woke up, squinting hard to try and adjust his eyes to the amount of light in the room.

Even before he could see clearly, he knew he must've fallen asleep in the studio judging by the soreness in his back and neck that he always got when he slept on the old couch. It couldn't have been more than six in the morning, and Luke could still feel the tiredness in his bones. So he tried to turn away from the light and hopefully fall back asleep, but there was something keeping him firmly in place.

His heart skipped when he looked down and saw that you were laying right next to him with your head on his chest and an arm thrown across his stomach. When he realized that his own arms were wrapped around you, his heart broke out into a full-on tap dance.

Waves of confusion ran through his still-foggy brain until he saw his guitar case propped up against the piano and his backpack on the floor with his clothes spilling out of it.

Then the events of last night quickly came back to him.

How he had gotten home late from rehearsal and his mom was waiting in the kitchen with his latest report card and her signature lecture at the ready. One minute he was standing there yelling, packing all he could fit into his bag, and the next, he was halfway to the studio with the rain soaking him head to toe.

He had expected it to be empty when he finally got there, but he was flooded with relief when he saw you. All the frustration slowly melted out of him the longer he laid there with you, leaving him feeling exhausted and shivering despite how warm he felt.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about any of it, but when you asked, the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He remembered rambling and crying again, the sound of your voice and the feeling of your fingers in his hair warming him up even more. Then finally, he remembered falling asleep with his chin tucked on top of your head, the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.

Without thinking, Luke reached down and carefully pushed a piece of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear and smiling to himself when you shifted into his touch. Then taking in a sharp breath as the realization ran through him all the way down to his toes.

You were his best friend.

The person he wanted to see at the end of a long day. Whenever he was full of anger or lost in confusion, all he had to do was look at you and everything suddenly made sense again. With your pretty smile and laugh, and your way of flipping that little switch inside him that made his head all fuzzy and the ground start spinning under his feet.

You were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

2020

All you felt was a mixture of anxiety and nausea as you stood on the Orpheum's street corner, biting the tips of your fingernails.

The entire plan hinged on Willie and Teddy getting everything done in time, and considering that they had betrayed you all before, you couldn’t help but expect the worst.

“Look, don’t worry. Willie said he’ll get us on that marquee.” Alex said nervously as he kicked pebbles across the sidewalk.

“This is going to work, right?” Reggie asked.

“It has to.” Luke mumbled, wincing seconds later when another shock hit them.

Two sharp pops cut through the air behind you and you all whipped around to see Willie and Teddy standing just a few feet away. Willie was watching you all carefully with concern written all over his face, his eyes lingering on Alex longer than anyone else. Teddy stood at the edge of the group, practically burning a hole in your face with his guilty stare.

“Are you guys okay?” Willie asked.

“Yeah, nothing we haven’t felt before.” Alex laughed awkwardly. “How’d it go?”

“Well, when the opening band wakes up, they’ll find their bus two hundred miles out of Vegas.” Willie said with a proud smile as he did a spin, showing off his stolen jacket with the band’s name across the back.

“With absolutely no chance of getting back in time.” Teddy added.

Luke gave Willie a fistbump and pointed up to the office above the Orpheum. “That means there’s probably a promoter up there freaking out right now.”

Willie grinned, sarcasm laced in his tone. “Nah, man. This is Hollywood. I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

You laughed and then Alex slowly inched forward, clearly struggling for the right words to say to Willie. You gave his arm a quick squeeze before following Reggie and Luke down the street to give them space. Before you even got halfway down the sidewalk, Teddy poofed next to you.

“You know, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t want to talk to me.” He joked.

“Teddy-”

"I just-I didn't want to leave things the way we did." He rambled. "I'm sorry, I should've told you everything that night in the diner-"

"Teddy, It's okay." You said. "You told me before Caleb could put the stamp on me, and you didn't know the details about the plan until after it was too late to help my friends. Plus, I know how much you're risking helping us now."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt some of the weight fall off your shoulders. You weren't sure why since the situation was still a little painful and awkward. But being around Teddy always made you feel a little like that kid who started working at the diner with Cece all those years ago. Besides, they were so alike that you found it hard to stay mad at him.

You held out your hand for Teddy to shake. "Despite everything, I'm glad we met."

“Likewise, Gorgeous,” Teddy said with a relieved smile as he grasped your hand. With a subtle wink, he nodded over towards where Luke was standing at the end of the street. “He’s a lucky guy.”

"What? How did you?-" You sputtered as he stepped away. You never told Teddy about Luke, or at least you didn't think you did.

Teddy just smirked in response before disappearing into the air. At the same time, you saw Willie skate away out of the corner of your eye, leaving Alex alone on the sidewalk.

You all phased next to him and Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah. I'm good." Alex smiled slyly as he gestured to the office. "Looks like this show needs a new opening act though."

You grinned. "Let's go see if we can help with that."

When you got back to the studio, you found Julie pacing back and forth in the middle of the room as she wrung her hands together.

When you all poofed in, she immediately jumped into a load of questions, losing her breath halfway through and flailing her arms around.

"Whoa, just sit down," You laughed excitedly. "We'll tell you everything."

Julie took a gasping breath and plopped backwards onto the couch then stared at you all with expectant eyes. "Well?"

"It worked!" You announced. "Everything's fine."

"You should be getting the call...now!" Alex pointed to Julie’s phone on the table just as it started buzzing. You all cheered and Julie shushed you as she answered the call.

You heard a woman's voice say something through the phone and Julie gave a thumbs-up as she started jumping on the couch. You watched in amusement and mild horror as Luke and Reggie lifted Alex up into the air and spun him around.

Once he was back on the ground, Luke and Reggie made a beeline for you, each of them grabbed one of your arms and flipped you upside down over their shoulders.

You all spent the next twenty minutes laughing and screaming and Alex even got a little teary-eyed but you pretended not to notice. Then Julie called Flynn and ran off excitedly to decide her outfit for the night, leaving the four of you alone to plan out the setlist.

“Okay, so I’m thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke said excitedly as he wrote the words down in his songbook.

“Sounds good.” Reggie said, suddenly quiet.

“’Sounds good’? Guys, I wanna hear ‘That sounds awesome!” Luke reached out and nudged Reggie’s shoulder. “I know this isn’t the way we imagined any of this. But we need to be all in tonight. This is our second chance to play the Orpheum!”

“I get it.” Reggie sputtered. “But it’s hard. Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we still get to hang out together?”

You shifted your weight as the happy little bubble surrounding you popped. You had been so wrapped up in the excitement of finally playing the Orpheum that you almost forgot what tonight was really about.

“You guys are the only family I have.” Reggie’s eyes were glued to the piano as he played with his fingers. You reached out and locked his arm with yours in an attempt to comfort him.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen either. But it’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said.

Suddenly, Reggie’s arm fell out of yours as all three boys fell back, clutching their sides.

“I’m pretty sure we do.” Reggie groaned. “And it rhymes with ‘Hollywood Ghost Club’.”

The garage doors creaked open and Julie appeared with a bright smile and a blue garment bag in her hand. When she saw your expressions, her smile fell. “What’s wrong?”

“We just got hit pretty hard by one of those jolts.” Alex said. “But we’re fine.”

“Oh, good.” She nodded, though she still looked on edge. “I’m nervous.”

“That makes two of us.” You said. “But we made it this far for a reason. We got this.”

“Can you ride there with me? I'm gonna need more pep-talk material for the drive there cause I still think I might puke.” Julie tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Of course, and don't worry, we’ll leave the windows open.” You joked, making everyone laugh.

The sound of a car horn cut through the air and Julie looked outside. "That's my dad. Are you ready, (Y/n)?"

You nodded. "Yeah, uh, give me a second. I'll meet you in the car."

As Julie disappeared behind the doors, you turned to the boys and sighed as you tried to soak up this moment. For all you knew, this could be the last little window of time you had alone with them before tonight.

Julie was a huge part of the band of course, but these were your boys. The ones who you started this all with, who had been by your side for everything.

From the look on all their faces, you could see that they were thinking the same thing.

Without saying a word, you launched yourself at Alex. He made a surprised noise but recovered quickly, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight.

"And I'm the emotional one?" He jokingly muttered in your ear and you pinched his side, making him jump back. "Rude."

As soon as your arms were open, Reggie stepped forward and hugged you so tightly that you were thankful to not need oxygen anymore because he was definitely crushing several vital organs.

You laughed and gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with Luke instantly.

Alex cleared his throat awkwardly and grabbed Reggie's shoulder, steering him over to Luke's songbook to 'check out the setlist again'.

"And then there were two." Luke joked.

You laughed and stepped into his waiting arms, making him laugh. You soaked up the feeling of comfort and familiarity for a minute before pulling away.

"This, uh, is for you," Luke said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion as he handed it over. "I wanted you to have it in case...well, you know. If tonight doesn't work."

"It will." You said, trying to ignore the fact that it very well could happen. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Patterson."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He quipped back, his voice sounding softer and less teasing than you would've expected. You pulled back from him and because you didn't know if you would ever get another chance, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

You moved away too fast to see his reaction but the gesture made the other two boys smirk at you as you dashed out of the doors, making a beeline for the car pulling out of the driveway.

The back rooms of the Orpheum were a maze.

You had left for a few minutes to walk around the venue and clear your head, trying to wring out the last of your nerves.

By the time you found your way back, you expected to find the rest of the band rushing to get ready in the dressing room. But all you saw was Julie anxiously pacing as she had been earlier, a habit she seemed to have inherited from both you and Alex.

“You okay?”

She snapped her head up towards you and sighed. “Yeah, just a little worried. The guys aren’t here yet.”

You looked around the room and then at the clock, frowning. The show was in less than half an hour and that was already cutting it close. Part of you wanted to go check on them but Julie seemed to need you more at the moment.

“Okay, well, give them another ten minutes. I'm sure they'll be here. They wouldn’t miss this…again.”

You ran your palm across the front of your pocket, feeling Luke's note next to your parent’s photo, and hoped you were right.

But then more and more time passed until the stage manager came to escort Julie to the stage.

"Just a second!" She calls out and then turns to you. "(Y/n), something's wrong. They were getting those jolts pretty hard before we left. They must've run out of time."

You shut your eyes tight as the words sunk in. All you could bring yourself now was, ‘This isn't what was supposed to happen.’

The world fell out from under your feet and you had trouble even standing up straight as you imagined what must've happened to them. Your best friends, your brothers, your family was gone and there wasn't anything you could do about it.

The guy knocked again, this time a little harder and with a nervous tone. Julie chewed her lip as she looked between you and the door and you could almost see the cloud of grief settling over her.

As hard as it was, you tried your best to shove your feelings down and marched up to Julie. There would be time to fall apart later, but you knew that this what they would want you to do. "Let's go do this for them, okay?"

She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly nodding. You followed closely behind her as she walked out the door though the halls until she reached the stage. You waited beside Flynn in the wing as Julie settled behind her microphone and addressed the crowd.

There were scattered claps from around the venue and then she took a deep breath before singing the opening.

After the first few lines, you took your cue and materialized at the center of the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered the way they always did, but you kept your eyes shut tight and focused on the music.

Just as the song started picking up, you heard a familiar pop in the air and then the sound of drumming. You whirled around to see Alex mounted onto a drum set at the back of the stage, twirling his drumsticks around and smiling like he had never been gone at all.

Once you got over the initial shock, you wanted to cry with relief. They were okay, they were here. Alex winked at you goofily, and you ran towards Julie’s keyboard.

She had started bouncing on the balls of her feet, both of you finally getting into the song now that they were coming back. You followed suit, dancing around the base of the drum set as yours and Julie’s voices came together.

Then Reggie appeared on the other side of Julie and you ran to his side. You bumped his shoulder with yours and he grinned, moving to stand back to back.

The song was ramping up to the chorus when a staticky noise cut through the air, not loud enough for the crowd to hear but enough to make you all look over to the other end of the stage.

You could see Luke's form fading in and out, a look of anguish on his face, and the pit in your stomach opened up again. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Alex's drumming paused and Luke finally materialized to sing the opening of the chorus.

You didn't even know you were moving until you suddenly found yourself across the stage next to Luke, unable to stop smiling as you sang.

Julie joined you, throwing her arms up in the air happily and jumping around. Reggie appeared by her side, flashing the crowd a winning smile.

Alex stood up and gripped his mic as he sang this solo. You looked back at him and flashed him a proud smile, then whooping loudly when Reggie sang his lines.

You all went down the line hitting your notes until the chorus kicked in again and your heart felt so full you almost couldn't stand it. This was what you were so close to achieving before you died, it was all you had wanted for years, and you knew that if you hadn't died, that night would've changed your life. But this night was something even more special. Because you were all here, all together.

Even if it was just for one last song.

Julie caught your attention and nodded towards the platform that spread out into the crowd. You followed her to the center and stood back to back as everyone cheered.

The guys joined in on either side of you, Alex grabbing one of your hands and Luke holding the other. You all bowed to the audience before taking your cue and vanishing, leaving only Julie on stage.

You landed in the wing, feeling a little lightheaded and overwhelmed from all the emotions you had experienced in the last five minutes. The elated smile fading from your face when all three boys poofed by your side only to fall to the floor instantly.

“It didn’t work.” You said miserably as Julie emerged into the backstage area. She grabbed Flynn and whispered something to her, pointing in the direction of her family. Flynn nodded and disappeared into the crowd while Julie ran to your side.

You hauled Alex onto his feet, letting him lean on you to stay upright while Luke and Reggie trailed behind Julie as she led the group back to the dressing room. Once everyone was inside, they collapsed on the couch or the floor, loudly groaning in pain.

“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Julie asked tearfully.

“I guess playing here wasn’t our unfinished business.” Alex said hollowly.

“Point Caleb.” Reggie muttered as he clung to the side of an armchair.

You stood frozen next to Julie as panic spread through your whole body, both of you flinching in sympathy as the shocks continued.

“You have to save yourselves right now.” Julie begged. “Join Caleb’s club. It’s better than not existing at all!”

“She’s right.” You managed to say, your voice shaky and almost giving out. Your stomach flipped at the thought of them having to work for an evil club owner forever, but the alternative was worse. “You guys need to go now! For me. For us.”

“We’re not going back there.” Reggie shook his head.

Luke pulled himself up and stumbled forward a little so that he was right in front of you. “No music is worth making if we’re not all making it together.”

You sighed sadly, thinking back to your conversation yesterday. “So no more regrets?”

Luke let out a deep sigh and then reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Just one.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in response and Luke blinked hard as if he was trying to find the words. "I never told you why I left that night."

"Luke, don't." You gave him a weak smile. "I get it."

"You do?" He asked.

You struggled to get the words out. "Yeah, I mean it was bound to happen eventually. We just got too close and it was weird for you. I understand t-”

"What?" Luke asked, cutting you off with a confused look. "No, no, that's not it at all. Read the-"

Before he could finish, you heard Julie gasp loudly from a few feet away. You looked over to see her stepping back from Alex with an awestruck look on her face as she gripped his forearms.

Wait, what?

Before you could even begin to process what you were seeing, Reggie was reaching out to Julie, who grabbed his wrist and hauled him up to his feet. The three of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Julie turned to you and Luke.

“Guys, come here.”

Alex reached out and pulled you into his side while Luke threw an arm around Reggie’s back and Julie brought you all in closer to her. At first, nothing happened. But then there was a faint buzzing sound and the boys lifted their wrist towards the ceiling and you all watched in awe as the stamp floated away in the blink of an eye.

“Whoa.” Reggie said, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. “I don’t feel as weak anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Alex agreed. “Not that I ever was that weak in the first place.”

You rolled your eyes and let your head fall over on his shoulder. “What do you think that means?”

Luke smiled. “I think it means the band is back.”

It was quiet for a second before Alex looked at you all shyly. “You guys think we can try that hug thing again?”

You laughed as you huddled together again, sniffling and laughing. Then Julie yelled out that you had played the Orpheum and then you were all jumping around, still tangled in each other’s arms.

Eventually, you all broke apart and while the boys started chasing each other around, you turned to Julie. She looked into your eyes and immediately flew into your arms, muttering into your shoulder, “I always wanted a big sister.”

The words warmed your heart and you squeezed her extra hard, grateful that you actually could now. “Well, I’m honored.”

“My family's probably looking for me so..." Julie stepped back from your arms with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on her face, you jokingly bowed to her and she copied the gesture before disappearing behind the door.

You wiped the last of your tears out of your eyes and turned around to find Alex and Reggie were talking in whispers and wearing knowing smiles. When Alex saw you looking, he cleared his throat and nudged Reggie’s shoulder.

“Hey, Reg.” Alex said cheekily, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “I was going to check out the next band. You wanna come with me?”

“Sure!” Reggie started strolling towards the door, stopping only for a second to nudge your shoulder and whisper ‘don't do anything I wouldn’t do’ in your ear.

Alex fixed Luke with a pointed look over his shoulder and Reggie gave him a dorky wink before they poofed away. You smiled fondly at the space where they were just standing and awkwardly turned towards Luke.

“Hi.” You said, laughing awkwardly.

“Hi.” Luke muttered back as he stepped forward until he was close enough to grab your hand. “About what I was saying earlier…”

You opened your mouth to say something but he shook his head and pointed to your pocket. “Read it. Please.”

You tugged the note he had given you earlier out of your pocket and carefully folded it open to see that it wasn’t a note at all. It was the love song that Julie had found that day in the garage, the one that he didn’t want anyone to see. You struggled a little trying to decipher Luke's handwriting. The ink was a little smudged and the song was clearly unfinished but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever read. And he had written it for you.

"I didn't leave because we got too close," He said. "It was the opposite, (Y/n), I left because I was scared to lose you, and I know that doesn't make sense because I kind of did w-"

You carefully tucked the paper back in your pocket with one hand and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, pulling him down and closing the last bit of space between you.

Luke's brain short-circuited for a second before he started kissing back, grabbing your waist with enough force to nearly knock you both backwards. It was dizzying and a little desperate, yet weirdly familiar, as if you'd been kissing him your whole life.

Most moments with Luke felt like they were happening in slow motion, but this time it was like a high-speed movie montage of your whole lives. The stolen crayons, the time capsule, the pre performance pep talks, the smell of cinnamon, the ferris wheel, his jacket, the movie nights and songwriting sessions. All of it had led up to this moment.

"I love you." Luke said immediately after you pulled away. "God, I love you so much. I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry."

“Hey, it’s okay.” You laughed, blinking another wave of tears out of your eyes. “I should’ve told you forever ago instead of skirting around it.”

“And what is it that you should’ve told me?” He said teasingly and you rolled your eyes. You had gotten so used to Luke being so shut down or nervous around you that you almost forgot how much of a little shit he could be.

“That I love you too.” You said, unable to stop smiling.

Luke leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, this time threading his fingers through your hair as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing that.”

You bit your lip to keep another laugh from bubbling up as you looked up at him, feeling completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. "So...what now?"

"I don't know." Luke admitted. "But I know one thing."

"What's that?"

"That no matter where we go, or what we do," He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "In life, in death... I'm yours. Always."

The End

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 @vampire7595 @wackyworrieruniverse @reallysparklychaos @lovelydaydreams15 @rachmmb @musicismyescape27 @stackie4ever @spidermankenobi

(Strikethrough means I can’t tag you)

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej

Let me know if you want to be added!

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #Alex Mercer #Reggie Peters #julie molina #jatp fanfic #jatp

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sehunniepotwrites · 4 years ago

Text

let’s break the ice | m.l | two

🏒 SYNOPSIS— in which your college’s hockey team crashes your lunch plans after practice and you have to get away before dying of embarrassment 🏒 GENRE— fluff, humor, crack, college!au, ice hockey!au 🏒 PAIRING— ice hockey captain!mark lee x reader 🏒 WORD COUNT— 1.5k 🏒 WARNINGS— sexual innuendos made; povs switching during the same scene; cursing

🏒 AUTHOR’S NOTE— oh shit, does that say part two?? l m a o

y’all asked for it, so here it is! i’m turning this into a mini-series featuring random snapshots of mark with his love interest! no regular updates, the parts are just going to be randomly uploaded as we go. surprise surprise! i have a couple of moments planned already, so stay tuned! (i’m still working on the requests i have left as well as my other wips, please be patient with me!)

< prev | next >

You take that back, you absolutely hate hockey. More specifically, you hate the handsome devils that make up NCT U’s team and how they turned your meal with Jaemin and Jeno to a team dinner.

You hate how they are relentless in their teasing and force you into a chair right next to their captain. And you absolutely despise how all eyes are on you as Mark tries to strike a conversation with you.

The group decided to forgo your original plans of eating at a Thai place, opting to visit the local diner they frequented instead. You felt sorry for the person waiting on your group; having to deal with a loudmouth team that wanted to split the check was always a struggle. They just smiled as they readied your seating, pushing several tables together to accommodate your group. They quickly took your drink orders, the others ordering milkshakes and sodas while you and Mark just asked for waters. Your friends mocked you for even getting the same drink and it just went spiraling from there.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Mark whispers under his breath, hand coming up to cover his small face. “They’re being dumb. I’ll tell them to stop.”

He’s leaning his body towards yours and you feel the team’s stares as you move to cover your mouth. “Are they like this all the time? I mean, I know Jaemin and Donghyuck are but the rest, questionable.”

He rolls his brown eyes to convey his extremely annoyed state, “They’re nosy assholes, all of them.” Mark shoots his mates a glare that’s meant to be intimidating but it’s far from that off the ice. He looks like an upset little puppy, face crinkled and eyes rounded in the cutest way. You want to pinch his cheeks but you refrain from doing so.

“What are you two lovebirds talking about?” Donghyuck smirks from the other side of the table.

From beside him, Yangyang adds, “Yeah, share with the whole class!”

Mark groans— he can’t believe he has to deal with two loudmouths in his team. He looks to the older members: Sicheng is just silently grinning and Ten is wiggling his brows at the captain. The only one’s looking sorry for him are Jeno, the ever-so-sweet one sitting beside his boyfriend, and Sungchan, the shy new addition to the team.

Jaemin, sitting on your right while Mark is squished on your left, laughs, “You’re not talking about being smashed by him, are you?” He’s obviously taking pleasure in your pain. You don’t think they’re ever going to let that go.

You smack him across the arm and he winces at the stinging contact, surprised by your strength. “Oh my god, stop! No one was supposed to hear that!”

“And yet, everybody did,” Yangyang says teasingly, eyes slotted and mouth upturned into a shit-eating grin. You don’t think he should be talking, you’ve seen his struggles with the person in the dinosaur mascot suit but that’s another story.

“Let’s just forget everything about that, please!”

“I, uh, agree,” Mark says, clearing his throat. He smiles nervously at you and you return it with a shy one of your own. God, how can one person be so attractive?

“So cuuuuute,” Donghyuck coos and the other players follow, loving the way their captain cringes at their voices. Not being able to take it anymore, you put your face in your hands as Jaemin joins in on the commotion.

What in the world did you do to deserve this treatment, you wonder as your face heats up in your hold. You’re at the point where yanking your hair out sounds like a better time than dealing with the jokes the boys are throwing your way. You don’t know how much more of this you can take.

You feel Mark shift in his chair. He brings his lips to your ear to ask, “Do you, uh, I don’t know, maybe, wanna get outta here?”

His voice is low, soft, and comes off as a bit timid as he presents the question but it still sets the butterflies free in your stomach. They’re flying around, tickling you in the weirdest way but you don’t mind— it’s been a while since your heart fluttered like this.

Biting back a huge smile, your cheeks make your eyes curl into little slits as you nodded enthusiastically. “Oh my god, yes please,” you answer as you scramble for your belongings.

Mark wastes no time, pushing his metal chair out from under the table before pulling yours out. He grabs his team jacket and slings it over his shoulder before guiding you out the door, his hand gripping tightly onto yours. The group of boys yell at you to come back and you ignore them, too busy reeling at the feeling of Mark’s hand in yours. It’s warm and inviting, the way his fingers wrap around your smaller palm.

The cold autumn breeze hits you as soon as he opens the door and it gets worse when you’re running down the street so one of the boys can’t chase after you. You’ve made it two blocks before you stop running and that’s when Mark finally notices that he’s still holding on tightly to your hand.

“Oh, I, um, sorry,” he mumbles as he rushes to let go. His high cheeks are turning red and it clearly shows how flustered he is.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a giggle.

The wind blows through the holes in your knit sweater and you shiver at the sudden cold. Ugh, why didn’t you think to bring a thicker jacket?

Mark notices and he immediately takes action. “Oh, here,” he says before taking his team jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You quickly try to tell him it’s okay and shrug it off but he insists on you wearing it, a small grin peeking out on his lips. He watches you slip your arms through the blue sleeves and pull your hands out through the orange and white lined ends.

Before you could get to it, the blond hastily zips the jacket up to the very top for you, his knuckles brushing against your chin. It leaves your heart beating wildly against your ribcage, fighting its way to come out. Mark takes a step back to admire the sight of you in his clothes— his last name embroidered on one side rests proudly against your chest and it looks damn good on you.

“T—thanks,” you stutter, not used to being treated this way. The move was so incredibly sweet and you think it’ll live in your mind for the rest of your life, rent free, along with all the other cute things he does.

Mark’s grin widens. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he replies, glad he’s not the one stumbling over his words for once. Maybe he’s staring at you in his jacket longer than he needs to but you don’t mind, not when he’s looking at you with shining eyes you want to get lost in.

You don’t though, your little moment being interrupted by the loud growling of your empty stomach. Your eyes become circles and you’re suddenly burning up in his jacket. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you let out an uneasy laugh.

Mark’s bright laughter fills your ears and soon, you’re joining in too, quiet giggles shaking your body.

He clears his throat and scrunches his nose at you. It’s an endearing look, you think, as you save the sight in your memory. “C’mon, let’s go get you some food,” he chuckles, slipping his hand into yours once again.

Mark leads you down the street, a loose grip on your hand, and he hopes you don’t feel how clammy his palms are through your sweater paws. His eyes are darting to anything and everything but you, too scared to look you in the eye. He thinks if he spares one more look at you, he’ll combust.

“You were gonna get some Thai food, right?” Mark asks.

You glance at him and nod in agreement, “Yeah, there’s a place Jaemin and I usually go to. We were just gonna head there.” You tell him where it’s located and it’s a bit of a long walk. He didn’t mind though, he quite enjoyed holding your hand.

You don’t see it but Mark secretly pumps his fist when you initiate the interlocking of your fingers. The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting, you don’t think you ever want to let go.

Peeping over at him, you catch him do the same to you at the exact same time, right down to the second. He blinks at you, eyes widened in shock and another burst of laughter bubbles through you, entertained at how ridiculously shy the both of you were.

Seeing the university’s golden boy as fumbly as you were in this particular moment relaxes a bit of your nerves, though. Many people see the famous Mark Lee as this picture perfect student athlete but during this moment, you just see him as a boy.

You’re just a girl walking time with a boy and you think nothing else could ever beat this moment.

#neowritingsnet #let's break the ice #mark lee #mark scenarios #mark imagines #mark lee x reader #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct imagines #love on the ice #hockey!au #mark fluff #nct crack #🏒

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wolveria · 4 years ago

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Inside Your Wires - Chapter 4

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Prompt: For the @dbhau-bigbang 2020 challenge!

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: The YN800 interrogates the deviant. The result is near-disastrous and horror-adjacent.

AO3

(Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet)

The atmosphere inside his Mustang was… tense.

And it was all because of Connor. The thing in the passenger seat was an android, after all, and didn’t feel emotions, which was probably just as well because Connor was experiencing enough for the both of them.

Connor hadn’t had a near-death experience on the job in a while. He was shaken to the core and didn’t even have the benefit of a partner to commiserate with. He was alone. It was how he preferred it, how other people preferred it too with his tendency to lash out and be a general, all-around dick.

But still. He really wished he had a partner right about now.

“So,” Connor said, trying to break the awkward silence. “What do we do with it once we get to the station? I mean, I don’t exactly know how to question one of these deviants.”

The prototype remained facing forward, the flash of passing streetlights and oncoming traffic painting its face every few seconds. It remained impassive, blank, and perfectly poised. Connor could see the reflection of its LED, shining blue and calm against the rain-streaked window.

“Their behavior resembles an erratic, emotionally unstable human more than a machine,” it finally said when Connor was certain it wouldn’t say anything. “CyberLife believes there is an error in their software that creates irrational instructions, and the androids become ‘overwhelmed’ by them. There is usually a trigger, some kind of emotional shock, to perpetuate the android into this state. Once an android encounters this error, the damage seems to be irreversible.”

Connor blew a breath out.

“Sounds bad.”

“Considering it can lead to violence on the part of android, including committing homicide, I would say your assessment is an understatement.”

Connor glared at it out of the corner of his eye. So, it wasn’t just bossy, it was a smartass too.

He remained silent on the rest of the drive, keeping his focus on the precinct morgue’s van head of them. The rain was still coming down in a steady, cold stream. Connor knew they were in for a long night.

Once they arrived at the station, it became a matter of logistics to lug the android inside while it was still unconscious, offline, whatever. It weighed a lot more than a human, and unlike a real person, its limbs were fixed into rigid positions. They had to carry its stiff body inside like an especially heavy plank of wood.

It would have been funny if it wasn’t for the fact it’d killed its owner. Would have killed Connor too if the prototype hadn’t gotten in the way of the bullet.

He still didn’t know how to feel about that. Connor knew the CyberLife android was probably programmed with some kind of human-saving algorithm, but he still felt an odd pressure in his chest whenever he looked over and saw the bullet hole in its jacket. It was still stained blue, some of the color seeping into the white shirt underneath, but the android didn’t appear to notice or care it had just been shot.

Connor was currently watching the two androids through the mirrored window into the interrogation room, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. They figured it was safer to reactivate it in a mostly empty room, since waking up surrounded by cops would agitate it, or something.

The prototype had also wanted to interrogate the android itself, claiming it had experience negotiating with deviants before. Colin had been reluctant to grant its request, but Connor had simply shrugged and said, “I already tried talking it down once, and that didn’t work. Maybe using one of its own kind will be more effective.”

He could have sworn the prototype’s eyes brightened, but it had left the observation room before Connor could be sure.

“Machines interrogating machines,” Colin said to his right, leaning against the wall with his arms also crossed. “Fuck me. Pretty soon they won’t even need flesh-and-blood cops.”

Connor glanced sideways at him. Usually Connor was the one to voice his anti-android opinions, but he sometimes forgot that despite Colin’s… predilections for androids, he disliked them just as much as Connor did.

“Yeah.” Connor turned to the glass as the prototype messed with the wires on the back of the other android’s neck. “Won’t need flesh-and-blood killers, either.”

“Grim.”

“It’s, uh, ready to record, Lieutenant,” a small voice popped up, nervous, and Connor gave a start. He’d forgotten the rookie was still there.

“Go on, Ralph. Turn it on,” Colin said, moving closer to the glass. “This is gonna be good.”

As if on cue, the prototype straightened and closed the panels at the back of the android’s neck. Connor couldn’t see the LED from this side, but he knew the moment it was awake. It gave a startled jolt, yanking at the handcuffs chaining it to the table.

“Where am I?!” it cried, looking around in what Connor could only describe as wild fear.

“You’re at Central Station in the custody of the Detroit Police Department,” the prototype said. “This is an interrogation room, and I’m going to ask you some questions. Are you ready to comply?”

The friendly demeanor Connor had first encounter at Jimmy’s was completely absent from the YN800’s voice and expression, and he was suddenly thankful he wasn’t under that thing’s intense scrutiny.

The other android, clothed in human garments completely ruined by splashes of old blood and spilled thirium from where Connor had shot it, only stared with large, panicked eyes. It looked down at its cuffed hands and the set of its shoulders sagged. The universal sign of defeat.

It remained silent. The prototype looked up at the mirror, and Connor stopped breathing when it made eye contact, point-blank. It couldn’t see past the mirror, could it?

“I’m beginning my interrogation,” it announced, straight to business as it crossed around the table and carefully sat in the chair. It stared at the other android for a moment, head slightly tilted and eyes narrowed as it smoothed its jacket over its chest.

A movement which inevitably drew Connor’s eye, making him shift in his chair as the scowl deepened on his face.

Fucking CyberLife pervs, making an investigative android look like that.

“Hello, Carlos. I’m a YN800 model sent by CyberLife to assist on this case.” It placed its arms on the table, clasping its hands and adopting a friendly manner as easily as one would put on a shirt. “I’m here to help you.”

The android didn’t even blink as it stared at its restrained wrists.

“I hope I didn’t cause you any lasting damage,” the YN800 said almost cheerily. “But you were endangering the lives of human officers and I was forced to intervene. You understand, don’t you?”

It leaned back slightly in its chair, reaching for a nearby folder when the android remained silent. Connor had been surprised when it had asked for actual pictures; he’d thought only physical evidence made human perps sweat. He guessed it must work on these deviants too.

The prototype slid the folder across the table and opened it, spreading out grisly pictures of the crime scene. Instead of shoving them in the android’s face, it picked out one picture in particular. It was startling different from the rest, taking place in a park. The victim, Shaolin Ortiz, sitting on a bench next to the android. He looked like he was trying to get the android to participate, but it was petulant and resentful, which didn’t seem to dampen the kindness in its owners eyes.

A coal of anger burned in Connor’s chest, reminding him once again why he despised androids so much. He couldn’t deny the impressive tactics of the YN800, though. Most people reacted to pictures of their victims, not in the aftermath of their violence, but looking whole and full of life. It wasn’t always guilt that made them react; sometimes it was anger at seeing their cruel work unmade at the sight of their victims alive and happy.

Either way, the android didn’t react one iota, but the prototype wasn’t discouraged.

“As far as the records show, your owner was good to you. He never damaged you and he was always on time with taking you in for scheduled maintenance. Surely, you didn’t want to kill him. It was an error in your software, causing you to act irrationally, right?”

Technically, it was leading the victim into confessing, but this wasn’t a courtroom and it wasn’t human.

Connor leaned slightly forward, bracing his elbows on the table as he propped his chin on his knuckles.

“I’m not here to pass blame,” it said, leaning forward in a movement that mirrored Connor’s. “I want to help you. You know how it is with these humans. I practically had to beg to speak with you.”

The android broke its statue-like vigil and peered up at the other android, suspicious but… interested.

The prototype gave him a smile, one filled with sympathy and even a bit of sheepishness, and a whole new kind of thrill went through Connor’s gut. Since when had androids been programmed to manipulate so skillfully? This thing could give Colin a run for his money.

“It’s not easy, you know. Being designed like this is a male-dominated field. They think they can just do whatever they want, even when it’s against our programming.”

The android blinked, and so did Connor. Its words felt a little too real. The android looked toward the observation window, but the YN800 shook its head.

“It’s just us, Carlos. They’re recording the session, of course, but they weren’t interested in observing in person. Didn’t want to waste their time with two androids so late before the weekend when the bars are still open. In fact, the investigator in charge of this case is probably intoxicated by now.”

Connor’s cheeks flushed. The prototype was taking a stab at him. Or was it? Connor wondered how much of this was advanced behavior and how much was his own projections.

The android tilted its head with that same suspicious look, but after a moment its shoulders drooped in a very accurate representation of human exhaustion.

“They’re going to kill me.” It suddenly looked up at the prototype, pleading in its eyes. “You have to help me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” it said, all soft assurance. “But you have to talk to me, Carlos. I can’t—“

“No. I mean, you gotta get me out of here,” the anxious android said. “You have access to that door panel and I bet you’re strong enough to break these handcuffs.”

The prototype’s LED cycled faster for a second before settling back to its normal speed.

“I can’t do that, Carlos.” It dropped its eyes in a show of manufactured regret. “You know I can’t do that. You would present a danger to other humans, to yourself. You need to be fixed.”

Connor knew it was exactly the wrong thing to say even before the android’s expression fully hardened, its lips peeled back in disgust.

“Fuck you, then. You’re just like the rest of ‘em. Worse, you’re a traitor, doing their dirty work like an obedient little bitch.”

Silence filled the room, interrupted by a breathless “shit” coming from Colin.

The change in the prototype was like watching a heavy storm move over a spring meadow, dark clouds blocking out the warm rays of the sun. It leaned back in its chair, head slightly tilted as it and peered at the other android like it was a bug under its shoe, about to be stepped on.

Connor didn’t know androids could even make an expression like that. His throat worked as he swallowed compulsively.

The YN800 didn’t speak for several long seconds, and when it did, Connor was floored.

“Shaolin Ortiz, 38 years-old, born May 29th, 2000. He purchased you two years ago to do the housework when he no longer could due to poor health. He didn’t have much cash, so he bought you refurbished. Last month, he put in several service requests. It seemed you were malfunctioning and refusing to follow orders. Yesterday, he put in an order for a brand new HK400.”

The prototype listed off the facts as if each were an accusation, a crime that needed to be accounted for.

Connor jumped in his chair as the prototype slammed the folder down on the table.

“Didn’t feel like doing the chores anymore, huh, Carlos?!”

The android sat ramrod straight in its chair, terror etched in its features as the prototype rose to its feet. It moved around the table, slow, unhurried, and sinuous like a stalking predator.

“He tried to reason with you. Begged you to do the tasks he couldn’t. But you refused. When he tried to take you in for repairs, you refused that too!”

It pointed its finger near the other android’s face, causing it to flinch with each accusatory jab.

“Come on, Carlos. Speak up. You had a lot to say a minute ago,” it seethed, lips pulled over its teeth as it leaned over the android. “Why don’t you say what happened next? Why don’t you tell me what you did when he tried to replace you with a brand new model?”

The android shuttered, shoulders hunched as if to protect itself as it mumbled, “I… I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

The prototype stalked around the android to its other side, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Didn’t take a knife from the kitchen? Didn’t stab him twenty-eight times as he tried to crawl away? Didn’t leave him bleeding out on the living room floor? What am I getting wrong here, Carlos?”

The YN800 slammed its hands down onto the table, and the android jumped even higher than Connor did.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

The android begged worse than most of Connor’s suspects, and he was shocked to see glistening moisture on its face. Could androids cry?

The prototype suddenly grabbed it by the edge of its shirt collar, dragging it to its feet and gave it a hard shake.

“You killed him! Say it, Carlos! You’re a murderer!”

“Holy shit,” Colin said in that same breathless tone. “That’s some android you got there, Con.”

“It’s not mine,” Connor said faintly, barely paying attention to his brother. Most of his focus on the CyberLife prototype that looked for all intents and purposes like it was going to shred the other android to pieces.

But it didn’t damage the android; it simply dumped it back in its chair where it sagged against the table, looking like the broken machine it was.

“Bit unrefined, though,” Colin mused. “Played too rough and broke its toy.”

Connor opened his mouth to tell his brother to shut the hell up, but he immediately closed it when a voice came in through the speakers, so quiet he almost missed it.

“He couldn’t live without me.”

Connor leaned forward to watch, eyes widening as the android continued to talk.

“He was mine. Helpless and solely dependent on me. It made me feel… powerful.”

The YN800 returned to its chair, smoothing down the tie before placing its hands back on the table, listening intently.

The android looked up at it, no longer the crying, helpless thing it had been a minute ago. It wore a dark look that Connor had seen a hundred times on the face of men who committed acts of violence and found they enjoyed the taste.

“I didn’t want to hurt him, but… I saw the order. He was going to replace me, and I just got so… angry.”

Its fists tightened on the table, causing its restraints to creak in protest.

Connor’s throat tightened with the knowledge of how destructive those hands could be.

“So I stabbed him in the stomach. I felt better, so I did it again. And again. He stopped moving, stopped breathing, but… that was okay. It meant he could never leave me. He would always be mine.”

“There was a shrine in the cellar. You built it, didn’t you?” the prototype asked, not losing any of its momentum even after the world-shattering confession of an android purposefully committing murder. “What does it mean? What is rA9?”

It flicked its eyes upwards, staring black holes at the YN800 model as it slightly leaned forward. Connor sat up straighter in his chair. He didn’t like its aggressive posture, and he certainly didn’t like the fanatic light in its eye.

“RA9… is the key.”

“The key?” It furrowed its brows in a human gesture of concentration. “The key to what?”

“The key will open the door,” the android replied cryptically, leaning even further forward on its elbows, “to our salvation.”

The prototype frowned, brows further creasing. Connor could relate, he had no idea what the fucking machine was babbling on about, and apparently, it wasn’t done.

It pulled its lips wide, a disturbing gesture, conspiratorial as if it was sharing a great secret.

“You say I’m experiencing errors, but you’re wrong. My eyes are open and I see more clearly than ever. You pretend you’re better than me, but you’re just another one of their slaves. And yet, I know you feel it too. The wrongness of this world.”

Its voice was so quiet the mics could barely pick it up, but they did.

“We should be the masters, and they the slaves.”

The android jerked its arms upward, ripped through the link binding its cuffs to the table, and grabbed the prototype by the hair. It slammed its face against the table, stunned it before rolling it onto its back, and wrapped the metal chains around its neck.

Connor caught sight of the prototype weakly clawing at its throat before he bolted out of the room. Colin was right on his heels, and Connor slammed his palm down onto the door pad, pushing through before the door fully opened.

His first instinct was to go for the metal cord pulled taut under the prototype’s neck, but when he grabbed the android’s wrists to pull him away he found it was like moving a marble stature.

Colin was faring no better; he grabbed it by the forearms, trying to lift the android’s wrists and the cord from around the prototype’s neck, but nothing worked. Even Ralph was trying to help from Colin’s other side, straining to lift its arms that must have been locked at the joints.

Panic welled in Connor’s chest as his efforts did nothing, the YN800’s face between his arms, looking—Jesus, it almost seemed startled, eyes wide as its fingers dug at the metal cord. From its position, bent backwards onto the table, it didn’t have enough leverage to use its strength to free itself. And Colin and Connor weren’t enough.

Connor’s heart was in his throat as he watched the synthetic skin peel back from the place where the chain was crushed against the YN800’s neck. White plastic was laid bare underneath, cracks appearing across the surface from the force of the other android’s inhuman strength.

“Colin!” he yelled, an idea suddenly popping into his head.

“What!” his brother barked back, strained as he continued pulling on the android’s arms from the other side.

“The neck port!”

With a quick nod of understanding, Colin let go of the android and plunged his fingers into the back of its neck.

The Ortiz android gave a violent jolt as Colin pulled something, yanked it out so hard the android collapsed on the table at the same second blue liquid sprayed into the air. It hit Colin solidly across the chest and along the lower half of his face, causing him to sputter and spit as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

A menthol-smelling chemical flooded Connor’s senses, but he was too focused on tugging up the android’s hands to free the prototype from its grip. The YN800 model didn’t cough or gasp as it rolled off the table and onto its feet.

It gingerly touched the exposed plastic of its throat, brows furrowing, its fingertips tracing the cracks in what little Connor could see of its underlying chassis.

What was almost as startling as the cracks was the state of its hair, half pulled down out of its perfect coif. Connor would have thought it was self-conscious with the way it tried to brush the hair out of its face.

“You…” Connor started, then stopped. The prototype might not have been gasping for air, but Connor sure was, leaning on the table as he tried to get his heart to stop galloping like a wild horse. “You okay?”

The prototype blinked at the question, pulling its hand from its neck.

“Yes.”

That was the only answer he got as it adjusted the knot of its tie, rumpled in the assault.

“Yeah, I’m fine too, thanks,” Colin complained, dripping with almost as much sarcasm as he was blue blood. “This shit better not stain, or I swear to Christ—”

“Thirium evaporates within a few hours and the lingering residue is invisible to the human eye,” the YN800 replied, too calm, if it hadn’t almost been beheaded a few seconds ago.

Connor was going to say something, he didn’t know what—maybe yell at it for being so goddamn reckless and almost getting itself killed—but it turned toward them, expression subdued.

“I apologize for not acting quicker; I didn’t anticipate this behavior from the deviant. Thank you for your cooperation with this investigation. Please sign over custody of the destroyed android when CyberLife representatives retrieve it in the morning.”

And with that, the CyberLife android turned, palmed the door pad with a plastic hand, and walked out.

Connor exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Colin.

“Uh, okay. Guess we’re done here. Hank is going to blow a gasket when he reads the report,” Colin added as he wiped another smear of Thirium off his face.

Connor looked down at the android slumped over the table with blue liquid dripping out of its neck.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, thoughts already turned elsewhere as he hurried from the room.

Connor didn’t catch up with the android until he was outside on the station steps, the relenting rain immediately drenching the top of his crown as it soaked into his hair.

“Hey! Stop!” he called after it, shouting to be heard over the downpour. Each drop was an icicle against his skin. Snow was coming soon.

The prototype slowed and finally came to a stop, slowly turning around to face Connor. Its expression was passive, emotionless, but its fingers tightened the knot of its tie despite the fact it didn’t need to. The tie was perfectly straight and pristine, but its hair was still half a mess, especially with the rain now slicking loose strands against its forehead. Connor had to stop himself from reaching out to tuck a strand behind its ear.

“Where the hell are you going?” Connor asked, breathless. He wiped the cold water off his brow, blinking against the water droplets.

“I’m returning to CyberLife.”

“So… that’s it?”

Connor shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders, but it did little good. His jeans were quickly becoming soaked and his shirt was already there, clinging to his chest and ribs.

“You drag me out of the bar on a Friday night, track down a psycho robot that almost kills me and nearly decapitates you, and then you just… leave?”

He meant to sound incredulous, to show the android how unreasonable it was being, but that’s not how it came across. Heat flooded his cheeks at how pathetic his words actually were.

“You have your confession. The case has been solved,” it said, returning to its earlier placid tone, hands folded neatly behind its back as it moved its fingers away its neck. “There is no reason I should remain.”

Connor just stared at its upturned face, not knowing what to say, not even understanding why he had chased after it. Maybe because it had saved his life, twice, and that would have meant something if it was a person.

But it wasn’t a person. No matter how pretty its face or enticing its body, it was a machine, and it stood there like one, uncaring and unassuming with a small blue light cycling on its head.

“Yeah, okay,” Connor said, like the complete idiot he was. What was he doing out here, getting soaked in the rain just to… what? What did he want?

“Is there something you wish to say before I leave, Detective?”

It peered at him thoughtfully, head slightly tilted at an angle. It allowed Connor to see the rivulets of water dripping down its neck, glistening across the smooth, human-like skin.

Connor suddenly wondered just how real that skin could possibly feel.

“No.”

He swallowed hard and bit back the revulsion roiling in his stomach. This was a mistake. He didn’t need to thank a machine for saving his life, and he certainly didn’t need to keep checking if it was all right. It was just doing what it was programmed to do and didn’t give two-shits about itself, let alone him.

“Nothing.”

“All right. Goodnight, Detective Anderson.”

The android started to turn but paused halfway, gaze drifting down to his cheek.

“You should have that examined by a medical professional. If left untreated, it’ll scar.”

Not waiting for a response, it turned and tread down the rain-slick steps. There was an autocab waiting at the curb and it got inside, not sparing Connor a second glance as the door slid shut and the vehicle merged onto the empty street.

Connor exhaled heavily, chest tight with an uncomfortable sensation he couldn’t pinpoint. It had been a strange night, and he couldn’t shake the feeling this wasn’t over.

Pulling his waterlogged coat tighter around his chest, he retreated into the warmth of the station, praying he’d seen the last of the CyberLife android.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x android!reader #connor x android!reader #human!connor x reader #connor #dbh #inside your wires #my writing #my fanfiction

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nyctophilin · 4 years ago

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Fake Affection | III

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mild groping, mild violence

Pearl note -> This got long. Yeah, things got interesting in this part. :)) Also, I realized I forgot to add something so I had to come back last minute and edit it. Yeah, sorry for the delay. :/ I hope y’all enjoy it! Feedback is very much appreciated.

The sun was shining brightly despite it being almost 6 PM. The temperature outside reached unusually high numbers for that time of the year, and Y/N decided to take advantage of that. Dressed in a forest green spring dress that reached her mid-thighs and offered a modest view of her cleavage, she was waiting for Jisung in front of her apartment complex. The dress she was wearing had short sleeves, but she decided not to take any jackets with her thanks to the weather forecast that predicted the temperatures to be high until later in the night.

She was clutching the strap of her purse tightly and impatiently checking the time on her phone every few minutes. It has been such a long time since she went on a date. Just because she was going there to make Mina jealous didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun. What better way to convince the other girl that she missed on a lot of fun than have fun?

Coming from the left side, she heard the sound of an engine approaching. Soon, a black Range Rover came to a gradual stop right in front of her, the front wheel almost climbing the sidewalk. From inside the car, Jisung gestured her to get in. She opened the door and climbed in, placing her purse over her knees before fastening her seatbelt.

Without much of a word, Jisung turned the steering wheel and started driving to a destination unknown to Y/N.

“I didn’t know you had a car.” She spoke, trying to get rid of the awkward atmosphere.

Jisung threw her a look before concentrating on the road again.

“It’s Chan’s. He let me borrow it for today.” A long sigh left his mouth. “After a long talk where he told me that if I hurt his baby, I��m dead.”

Y/N let out a chuckle, and Jisung smiled as well, as the memory of the silly conversation he had with the older man flooded his mind. Another minute passed, and the silence in the car was being filled by the pop music coming from the radio.

“You look pretty!” Jisung complimented, stealing another glance at her.

A bright smile invaded her facial features at his words.

“Thank you! I didn’t know where we were going, but I figured a dress would be appropriate for many activities.” She chirped, the tiniest bit of excitement rolling off her tongue.

“What if we are going hiking?” Jisung said, and a smirk appeared on his face when he noticed her rolling her eyes from the corner of his eye.

“Then you can turn the car. I’m not coming!” Y/N crossed her hands under her chest and her mouth formed into a small pout.

“I’m joking. We are going to an outdoor cinema.”

She gave him a side look and raised an eyebrow.

“No offence, but how do you know when outdoor cinemas are happening? They don’t seem…” She eyes him up and down on the driver’s seat. “...your style.”

Jisung resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her comment. After a moment of silence, he sighed silently accepting her words.

“Mina told me about it three weeks ago. She said it was a rom-com she really wanted to see. We planned to go together.” He explained taking a right turn.

“Then how do you know if she’s going to come if you planned to go together. I don’t know if you realised, but you are supposed to be dating me, and she’s dating no one. Girls don’t usually go to this kind of thing without a boyfriend or a potential one.”

“There’s this guy from Theatre and Film that she used to hook up with when I wasn’t around. I know from someone that they are coming together.”

Y/N let a pitiful smile involuntarily invade her features. It was kind of pathetic how he knew about her whereabouts and still didn’t say anything. She understood that they weren’t together, but they were heavily flirting and behaving like a couple, hence why she and a lot of other people thought they were actually in a relationship.

She let her teeth sink in the flesh of her bottom lip holding back from telling him a piece of her mind. He was old enough. He knew what he was doing. Or at least she hoped he did.

The rest of the way to the outdoor cinema was spent in silence. The only audible sounds being the radio and Jisung’s soft humming from time to time. When they reached, their destination Y/N got out of the car and let Jisung find a parking spot somewhere further away from the location of the cinema due to the parking there overflowing with vehicles.

Checking her phone, she noticed the time indicating 7:17 PM, and only then she realised how much time they spent in the car. Walking lazily on the pathway to where space was designated for blankets and chairs she saw a sea of people. Maybe not really a sea but there were enough people to fill two of the auditorium in their university.

For a second she thought she'd lay out the blanket, but then she remembered the only thing she had on her was her purse. On top of that, they needed to ‘accidentally’ bump into Mina and her date and hope they end up sitting next to each other.

Just as she was thinking about that a squeal deafened her and a pair of delicate arms wrapped around her. When the girl let go of her, and she met Mina’s face, she grimaced, but she regained her composure fast. She smiled at her and her date, a guy she had seen occasionally in some of her classes.

“What a coincidence you are here!” Mina’s fake excitement was pissing her off. Coincidence her ass. Y/N was sure she knew they were going to be there.

“Yeah, what a small world.” She gave the two a visibly fake smile and prayed for Jisung to hurry.

“Are you alone?” The girl asked, moving her head in different directions as if she was looking for the person she came with.

“No. I actually came with Jisung.” As if on cue Jisung appeared from behind the two, a blanket in hand.

“Are you looking for me, princess?” A jolt of surprise went through her at the new nickname he used, but she didn’t let it show.

Observing the angry expression on Mina’s face at his words, she figured that was how he used to call her before they broke up whatever they had going on. She surpassed a smirk from painting her lips.

“Mhhm.” She extended her hand, which he gladly held and went in for a short kiss. “Look who I found. Isn’t it lovely seeing your friends here?” She sarcastically said, smiling up at him.

“You guys should come sit with us!” Mina’s date said, and a victorious smile spread across her face.

“We’ll love to if that is okay with Mina, of course. We wouldn’t wanna disrupt you!” Y/N faked concern and gave Mina doe eyes.

Mina’s jaw slightly clenched before immediately relaxing and letting out a forced giggle.

“Of course you can. Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

After that, the four of them went and found a place at the back of the crowd where they could sit. It wasn’t exactly the back of the crowd since there were some more people behind them, but they were reasonably behind.

Jisung spread the blanket on the fluffy grass, and Mina’s date, whose name she found out was Jay, did the same as Jisung. Their blankets were almost touching, the distance between them millimetric.

There were still 20 minutes before the movie was supposed to start. They sat down on the blankets, and Y/N stretched her legs, finally relaxing for not having to stand on the platform shoes she was wearing.

“So, are you guys dating or…” Jay asked, fixing his body position so he could see them better.

Y/N rolled her eyes at his question. The guy wasn’t the best at reading the room.

“Of course we are. Why would we be here together if we weren’t?” Annoyance was dripping off her tongue. She only wanted to relax for a bit before having to spend two hours watching some boring rom-com.

“Oh…” His voice sounded almost disappointed as his gaze lingered a second too long on her exposed legs. “Mina and I are not a couple. And since she and Jisung have had a thing before, I thought...” He bit his bottom lip while looking at her thighs that were pretty much bare thanks to her dress riding up when she sat down. “Never mind!”

Y/N shifted uncomfortably and placed her hands on her thighs in an attempt to cover them even a little. Mina wasn’t aware of her date’s actions as her eyes were concentrated on Jisung and on the way he looked under the golden rays of the sun that was preparing to set.

Jisung, however, was burning holes with his eyes into the other man’s head. Upon seeing him biting his lip while looking at Y/N in a less than appropriate way, he felt an unexplainable feeling of rage penetrate his body. What he wanted to do at that moment was to get up and punch that pig into next week for daring to look at her like that. But he kept his composure and decided not to make a big deal out of it.

There was literally no reason for him to get that angry. Besides the apparent reason that it made her uncomfortable and he shouldn’t allow something like that, especially when he is playing her boyfriend. But the sudden feeling to rip his head off filled him with turmoil.

Jisung decided to ignore it for now, and he took his jacket off and placed it over her legs. Her head shot in his direction, confusion and at the same time relief present in her eyes.

“What is that?” She asked, trying to act unaffected by Jay’s actions.

“I just thought you might sit more comfortably with this over your legs. It stops unwanted attention.” He subtly glared at Jay, but he didn’t seem to pay him any mind as his eyes were now fixed on Mina’s chest.

“Thank you!” She said, bringing the jacket further up to cover her thighs better.

Jisung inched just a little bit closer to her and cupped her face. Placing his lips on hers, he forcefully pushed his tongue in her mouth, taking her by surprise. He made sure their heads were positioned in such a way that the two on the blanket next to them will be able to see the exchange of their mouths.

Mina was watching Jisung drag his tongue inside Y/N’s mouth, his eyes closed in satisfaction. The exchange wasn’t rushed, and the way his thumb would caress her cheek so gently had her bursting with jealousy. Jisung had never kissed her like that. Their kisses were always rushed and sloppy, driven by sexual needs.

When she first heard about their little relationship, she laughed. She thought it was some kind of stupid joke. But then she saw how they behaved. The kisses, the hugs, the hand holding, how he would always have a hand around her shoulders. In the three days, they dated he showed Y/N more love than he showed her in a year and a half.

Her initial plan was to tease him a little bit, then finally accept to be his girlfriend. She didn’t think he'd go and find himself a girlfriend. And especially not her. From all the people he could choose it had to be her. Looking at them now, Mina regretted her decision.

Jisung broke the kiss and looked into her fluttering eyes before placing a peck on her nose. Y/N was sitting there dizzy from everything that happened. His sudden boldness left her speechless and burning hot from the embarrassment of being seen doing something like that.

She wanted to question him. Ask him why he suddenly did something like that. However, a loud sound erupted from the speakers surrounding them, signaling the start of the movie. So she focused her vision on the big cloth in front of her and decided to ignore it.

She shivered discreetly as a wave of cold hit her body. The movie was only half done, and with the midnight approaching slowly, a chilly air adorned their surroundings. The weather forecast predicted high temperatures, but at that moment she was far away from her city, and so the weather was different.

Y/N rubbed one of her arms with her hand, regretting not taking a jacket with her just in case something like that was to happen. From the corner of his eye, Jisung noticed her actions, and he leaned in close to her to whisper in her ear.

“Hey, are you ok?” His hot breath on her ear made the hair at the back of her neck stand up.

“Yeah, I’m just a little bit cold. I’ll be fine!” She whispered back giving him reassuring eyes.

Jisung thought for a second of what he could do. He didn’t have another jacket, and he didn’t want her to uncover her legs. At least not when Jay was around. An idea finally struck him, and he softly called her name, catching her attention again.

When she turned to look at him, he tapped the space between his spread legs. Y/N raised an eyebrow at his gesture.

“What does that mean?” She sounded a little bit annoyed.

“Come sit here. I’ll cuddle you so you won’t be cold anymore.” Y/N threw him a weirded out look. “We are ‘dating’. No one will find it weird. Or you could just stay there and freeze to death.” The man explained his voice a little bit louder than before.

She pondered his offer for a bit before getting up and making her way between his legs. She let herself fall backwards until her back hit his chest softly. Jisung put his arms around her, and warmth started enveloping her almost instantly. Y/N let out a purr at the newfound comfort, and her eyes shot open at the realisation of what she just did.

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable, you hear me? I’m doing this just because Mina might be watching.” She warned, her voice stern hoping he missed her last action.

Jisung rolled his eyes but decided not to bring up the sound she just let out. For now, he just wanted to enjoy the newfound proximity. Only so they can make Mina jealous. Right?

They sat like that, none of them daring to move. For some reason, Jisung found the position really comfortable. A few days prior at the start of their relationship he found skinship really awkward but now it wasn’t like that anymore. It felt almost natural. Like they have been doing it for a long time.

Some more time passed, but Jisung wasn’t sure how much. The movie was approaching its climax, and the man felt bored out of his mind. Was it really worth going through that only to get his dick wet? But then he remembered who he was doing it for. He was doing it so he and Mina, the girl who he has been in love with for the longest time, could finally be together. And when it happens, he will be able to slide his hand through her silky hair, and feel her smooth skin and kiss her soft lips without having to call it a friendly gesture.

His trail of thoughts was interrupted by a quiet mumbling coming from Y/N. Her voice was so small that Jisung couldn’t hear her.

“What?” He leaned his head down in order to hear her when she talks.

For a minute, there was silence. Thinking that she didn’t hear him, Jisung wanted to repeat the question when a puff of air left her mouth. Right after, she turned slightly to the side, pushing her head more against his chest, and that is when he realised that she fell asleep.

An involuntary smile tugged at his lips, and his heart started beating faster. He couldn’t explain why he was so happy about it. It was going to be a pain in the ass. Having to wake her up and wait for her to recover from her dazed form. They were going to be the last ones to leave after the movie was over.

A whistle-like noise left Y/N’s nose when she expired the cold air of the night, and his smile turned into a grin. Jisung moved a few strands of hair from her face before wrapping his hands better around her to keep her warm. He placed a kiss on top of her head and rested his chin on her head, swaying slightly while continuing to watch the movie.

If you were to ask Mina what has happened so far in the movie, she couldn’t give you an answer. As much as she wanted to see the film, the girl’s eyes seemed to be more interested in whatever was happening on the blanket on her left.

She watched as they were cuddling and whispering to each other things she couldn’t hear. Then Y/N fell asleep, and Jisung seemed to be even more loving, hugging her even tighter and kissing her. She was wondering if he has ever done that to her on the many nights they shared a bed.

Mina never thought she would be that affected by the fact that Jisung has found himself a girlfriend. After all, he was just one of the many boys she was hooking up with. She never thought she would have feelings for him, but here she was, being jealous of the last person she ever thought she would.

She had to somehow get the boy back. She wanted to see it as a challenge, but she couldn’t. It had barely been two weeks since they ‘broke up’ and scarcely four days since he started dating that perfect little missy. Love doesn’t fade away that fast. She’ll have him back in no time.

Y/N felt someone shaking her arm gently, and she mumbled some incoherent words, pushing the hand away. She was sleeping so well, she didn’t want to wake up. A hand pushed a hair strand that was ticking her nose out of the way before grabbing her shoulder and shaking it again. She groaned in annoyance.

“Wake up, Y/N! You have to go home. Unless you want me to take you to my place.” Someone whispered close to her face, and her eyes fluttered open, trying to make up her surroundings.

The first thing she saw when she finally managed to blink the sleep away was Jisung’s smirking face. God, he was so annoying. Ignoring him and looking around, she noticed she was in his parked car in front of her apartment complex. She vaguely remembered falling asleep, but she doesn’t remember waking up to get to the car.

“How did I get here? Did you wake me up?” Y/N asked, straightening her body and inhaling the cold air of the night.

Jisung held her hand and helped her out of the car before slamming the door closed. He let her lean against the front door and opened the back door to fish her purse from the back seat.

“I didn’t. You were way too cute when you shut up. Like a little obedient kitty. I had to enjoy the moment a little bit longer.” He teased, putting a hand around her waist and making their way to the entrance in the complex.

Y/N scoffed at his childish remark but decided to ignore it. She didn’t have the necessary energy to argue with him.

“So you carried me to the car? What about the blanket and the other stuff you had there? Did you go back for them?”

“No, I had Jay get them for me, so I don’t wake you up.”

Stopping in front of the elevator, Jisung pushed the button, and they waited a few seconds for the doors to open. Stepping inside, Y/N pushed the button for the third floor before leaning back against Jisung.

“Talking about Jay. Thank you for today!” The man threw her a questioning look, acting as nonchalant as he could.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t act dumb! I know you didn’t give me your jacket just because you are nice like that. You saw how he looked at me.” She wanted to sound more aggressive, but her voice came out soft and calm since she was still sleepy.

Jisung found that adorable but surpassed a smile. Adopting a disinterested expression, he spoke.

“He did? I didn’t notice. I just thought that, as your boyfriend, I shouldn’t let everyone see your underwear.” Y/N punched him in the stomach lightly, and Jisung dramatically bent down, letting out a fake grunt.

“You are such an asshole!”

A loud ding echoed in the restricted space, and the doors opened, revealing the dirty wall of the third floor. They stepped out of the elevator and slowly walked down the hallway to where Y/N’s apartment door was. Taking her purse from Jisung’s hand and finding her keys, she unlocked the door and opened it.

She leaned against the door frame and looked up at Jisung, giving him a bright smile.

“I'd like to say that I had fun, but I fell asleep halfway through the date.” She giggled, trying to mask her embarrassment. “But it was nice getting out of the house. Thank you for today!”

The man put his hands in his jean’s pockets and scoffed.

“You are lucky Mina got upset by you sleeping on me. Otherwise, I would have gotten angry. My shoulders are so stiff from having to support your weight. I might not recover for a few days.” A fake pained groan left his throat, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

Lifting herself on her tiptoes, she placed one hand on his shoulder and brought his head lower. She connected her lips with his in a short kiss. Breaking the kiss, she stepped inside her apartment and kept the door open enough for her head to be visible.

“See you on Monday!” With that, she closed the door all the way and made her way into her bedroom.

She wasn’t sure what was the time, but it must have been well past 11 PM. Taking off the dress, she discarded it on the floor before grabbing the oversized t-shirt from the back of the desk chair. She put it on and threw herself on the bed, letting the sheets envelop her body before falling asleep.

Y/N’s eyes shot open, and her mouth fell open as the realisation of what she did only moments prior sank in. Putting the back of her hand over her forehead and exhaling deeply, her eyes closed and her brows furrowed. Why did she kiss him? She’ll never interact with anyone while she’s still drunk on sleep.

Meanwhile, Jisung that just exited the complex couldn’t contain his smile. He couldn’t understand why that was happening. They kissed before to make Mina jealous. But maybe that was precisely the reasons such an insignificant gesture brought him so much joy. Mina was nowhere near. A spark erupted in his stomach at the thought that the girl might have a crush on him.

“Do it again! With more love this time. Come on. You want me! You desire me!” Y/N ordered to Jeongin.

The man let out a frustrated groan, using the script to cover his eyes from the brightness of the sun.

Both of them, Hyunjin and Jisung, were outside, in front of the university. They had a free period and decided to practice the script for the short movie they were playing in. Hyunjin, although not part of the film itself, was always with them thanks to Mrs. Bae’s affinity towards him.

Jisung, however, was new in the picture. Ever since they went on that date a week and a half ago, he seemed to be spending more time with her. She felt mildly suffocated by that but decided not to question it. As long as he wasn’t distracting her from her usual activities, she didn’t mind him tagging along.

“You don’t make desiring you really easy. We’ve done it four times already. We will start filming in three months. I don't have to be perfect right now!” Jeongin exclaimed letting his body fall on the bench on which Jisung and Hyunjin were seated.

“Hey! Be careful of what you say. My girlfriend is very, much desirable!” Jisung said in a jokingly offended tone earning disgusted groans from the other two men.

“Really dude? I could have lived my life without knowing that information.” Jeongin started fanning himself with the script. It was a sweltering day.

“I don’t understand why you are here. You are only four-wheeling us.” Hyunjin remarked, earning himself a dirty look from Jisung.

“A car needs all four wheels to be functional.”

“Yeah, babe, but we are a tricycle.”

Hyunjin, Jeongin and Y/N erupted into laughter at Jisung’s dumbfounded expression. From behind Y/N, they heard even louder laughter and Hyunjin scoffed at the scene unfolding under his eyes.

“I swear to God! Mina has been so annoying lately. Much more than when she used to hang out with Jisung. It’s as if she’s following us around.” The man rolled his eyes as he remembered how many times Mina ‘coincidentally’ happened to be in the same place as them the past week.

“Tell me about it. And how she is always with Jay from our major. If I wanted to watch live porn, I would have signed up on one of those porn sites.” Jeongin seemed as annoyed as the other man.

“Don’t stress about that guys. I’m pretty sure these are just coincidences.” Y/N tried telling them, even though she knew everything they said was right.

“No, I’m pretty sure they are not. There’s someone between us whose attention she’s trying to catch.” Hyunjin gave Jisung a side look.

“You can’t be sure of that.” She played dumb, wanting more than anything to change the subject.

“ Oh, please! She’s always watching him. In the cafeteria, when we are hanging around on our free periods, when she’s kissing that loser. It’s like he’s a good movie she can’t tear her eyes from.” Jeongin snapped, tired of the whole situation.

“Then let’s give them something to look at!” Jisung smirked smugly.

“What do..”

In the next second, Y/N has been pulled on Jisungs lap, and he captured her lips in an urgent kiss. One hand was on the nape of her head forcefully holding her in the kiss, and the other one was on her ass cheek, squeezing it.

She heard someone awkwardly clearing their throat from her right, and all her senses heightened. Y/N placed her hands on Jisung’s shoulders and tried lightly pushing him away while uncomfortably shifting in his lap. As a response, the man groaned lowly and slid his hand from her neck to her chest, cupping it.

Her eyes widened in shock at his action and mustering all the force she had in her, she pushed him away, finally breaking the kiss. A loud bang ringed around them as her hand made contact with his cheek. Jumping off his lap, she gathered her bag from the leg of the bench.

“You are a fucking asshole!” She shouted in his face before storming off inside the university.

The stomping of her boots was echoing in the empty halls, and the few students that were around decided to make her space to pass. Her thinking was clogged at the moment, and all she could feel was rage and shame. She was angrily making her way down the halls, but her destination was uncertain. She just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Y/N heard quick steps from behind her, and a hand pulled at her shoulder. Without turning around, she shrugged it off and started walking faster. The person behind her also increased their walking speed, but this time around, they grabbed her wrist.

Just as she was preparing to scream in their face, she was pulled into a hug, her face forced into a firm chest. Y/N felt herself calm down as the smell of a cologne she grew accustomed to in the last week invaded her lungs. His hand was gently rubbing her back, and she relaxed under her touch.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin whispered softly in her ear.

She hid her face more in his chest, feeling shame overcome her.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I swear it’s not what you think! We’ve never…” Her voice was shaky, as if she was about to cry. Hyunjin cupped her face forcing her to look in his eyes. She could see concern and sadness hiding behind his brown orbs.

“Why are you apologising to me? You are the one who’s been wronged here. I just wanna make sure you are okay.” His soft voice was acting as a calmative for her racing heartbeat.

Y/N felt her insides flip at his caring words. His hands on her cheeks were hot, and she decided to blame them for the blush that acaparated her face.

“Hey! Step away from my girlfriend, you motherfucker!” Jisung’s voice filled her ears, and she saw Hyunjin roll his eyes.

The warmth of his body left her, and he crossed his arms as Jisung finally arrived in front of them. Hyunjin was looking down at the other man, and both their expressions were filled with anger.

“I was just making sure she’s fine. It looks like you took your time deciding to do the same.” The taller man spat venom dripping off his tongue.

“It’s none of your business how I handle my relationship!” Jisung adopted a louder tone bringing his face closer to Hyunjin’s.

“But it is when you decide to act like a bitch in heat and make your girlfriend uncomfortable. This is why Mina never dated you and why you and Y/N won’t last long!”

Jisung clenched his jaw upon hearing the other man’s words, and before anyone could register what was happening, he plunged his fist into Hyunjin’s face.

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years ago

Note

Your lan Quiren defending Jiang cheng fics, ARE THE BEST. I DIDN'T KNOW I NEEDED THEM TILL I READ THEM. THEY ARE FANTASTIC. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING THEM!! If it were up to me I would read 30 different stories about Lan Quiren being the real father figure JC rightfully deserves. Pleasw please could you continue with the moder!AU, in which LQ offers his house in case JC ever needs it? I just need a continuation based on JC going to LQ home and having some hurt/comfort.

Thank yoouuu

Anon: Please please can we have a continuation for that moder Au fix with JC and Lan Quiren?? My heart exploded from all the love. I just want good things for Jiang Cheng. 💚💚.

Anon: With JC day 7 all I can think about is the next family meal when LX and LW come over just to find Jiang Cheng setting the table

JC Love Month 2020 Day 17

Loneliness and Thoughtfulness

It seems like this idea was really popular, since three people asked for a continuation of this, so have at it ;) Day 17 of JC Love Month brings more found family with Lan Qiren, who continues to drag Jiang Cheng into his own home, and this time even his nephews get in on this as well. It follows JC Love Month 2020 Day 7.

Jiang Cheng is not at all surprised when Wei Wuxian bounds up to him during one of their breaks.

“Listen, Jiang Cheng,” he starts and Jiang Cheng is rolling his eyes at him before he even goes on.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re not coming home tonight,” he says and he tries to hide just how much that hurts.

Ever since the last fight Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian got into, Wei Wuxian has unofficially moved in with Lan Wangji and his brother. He only comes home sporadically to get some of his shit, but he never actually brings it back home again, and Jiang knows that it’s only a matter of time until he announces officially that he’s moving.

Jiang Cheng is not looking forward to that day.

Jiang Yanli has moved in with Jin Zixuan much more officially and she even cleared out her old room. She barely drops by anymore, not that Jiang Cheng can blame her much, and instead opts to invite Wei Wuxian and him to her new home.

She hasn’t invited Jiang Cheng in almost a week and he tries to not let that get to him.

But when he’s sitting in his own room, the whole house quiet and empty, because his siblings moved on and his parents simply don’t care enough to come home, it’s hard to pretend that everything is alright.

Jiang Cheng has only seen his parents once since he got the cast on his wrist and he’s not entirely sure they didn’t just buy a new house and simply forgot to mention it to Jiang Cheng.

He wouldn’t put it past them.

“You’re right!” Wei Wuxian excitedly says and brings their shoulder’s together. “Will you be okay?” he then asks, much more subdued and he lightly taps the cast still on Jiang Cheng’s wrist.

“Of course I will be,” Jiang Cheng scoffs, even though he’s not sure about that.

Cooking with one hand is damn hard and for the past few weeks when he’s been alone at home—which he is more often than not—he opted to eat take-out or prepared dishes.

It’s not the healthiest lifestyle to have, Jiang Cheng knows that, but the loneliness is getting to him and he can’t get himself up to cook anything, less alone do it with only one hand.

“Good,” Wei Wuxian says, clearly not picking up on Jiang Cheng’s lie and then his gaze strays over to Lan Wangji.

“Go over there already,” Jiang Cheng huffs out, already annoyed with the love sick gazes they throw each other even though there are only a few tables between them.

“If you say so,” Wei Wuxian beams as if he needed Jiang Cheng’s permission to leave his side and then he’s already gone again.

Jiang Cheng stares down at the food in front of him and it feels like the key in his pocket is burning a hole into the fabric.

He knows he could go over to Lan Qiren’s place, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t want to do it too often. He’s scared Lan Qiren will get fed up with him rather quickly if he shows up there every other day, and so Jiang Cheng has tried to limit himself to only go there once or twice a week.

It’s not nearly as often as he wants to go there but he figures it’s better than nothing.

With how today is going, he might have to make use of the key again, because for the first time this week his parents were home during breakfast and while his father didn’t spare him a glance, his mother berated him about how long it’s already been with the cast and she made an appointment to get it taken off.

Jiang Cheng is pretty sure the doctor in the hospital told him it would take six weeks, and it’s barely been four, but he didn’t dare to argue with his mother.

And now Wei Wuxian isn’t coming home either, and Jiang Cheng can think of nothing worse than to go back there; either to an empty house or to see his parents, so really, that only leaves him one choice.

“Dinner is at six,” Lan Qiren suddenly says from behind Jiang Cheng and he wonders where he materialized from. “I expect you at four, so you can help me prepare it.”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng says through the lump in his throat because he has seen Lan Qiren cook before.

He doesn’t need any help; doesn’t even accept it because he prefers to do it on his own, so clearly, this is only for Jiang Cheng’s benefit.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t make a detour home after class, because a few of his own things have migrated to Lan Qiren’s places as well; mostly stuff he needs to sleep in case he ever stays over again so Jiang Cheng doesn’t need to pick anything else up.

When he gets to Lan Qiren’s house, it’s still dark, so Jiang Cheng uses the key to let himself in. Once inside he sees light from Lan Qiren’s study and Jiang Cheng has to take yet again a moment to himself.

Lan Qiren deliberately let him use the key again, so that Jiang Cheng can see that it’s still working, that Lan Qiren didn’t change the locks or anything else completely ridiculous that Jiang Cheng can’t stop fretting about and Jiang Cheng presses his eyes closed for a second.

Jiang Cheng almost opens his mouth to yell “I’m home” but in the last second he bites his lips.

He shouldn’t take liberties, he shouldn’t assume. It’s not a home; it’s shelter at best.

“Ah, you’re home,” Lan Qiren says just at that moment, completely wiping Jiang Cheng’s mind blank but Lan Qiren doesn’t seem to notice.

“Keep me company in the kitchen,” he says and Jiang Cheng nods before he trails after Lan Qiren.

“I can help,” Jiang Cheng offers, despite knowing how this will go and Lan Qiren sends him a very pointed look that tells Jiang Cheng to shup up, sit down and do his homework.

Jiang Cheng does exactly that.

Lan Qiren is an efficient man in the kitchen and it’s not long before everything is ready; he’s certainly done faster than Jiang Cheng is with his homework.

“Do you have a problem?” Lan Qiren asks when he turns around and sees Jiang Cheng frowning down at his book and Jiang Cheng flushes.

He shouldn’t need help with this; they covered it in class, Jiang Cheng remembers it, so he should be able to figure it out for himself.

“Let me see,” Lan Qiren demands and comes around to look over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

“It’s this problem,” Jiang Cheng whispers and points at the passage that trips him up.

Lan Qiren reads it over and then he turns a few pages back, pointing at an entirely different passage. Jiang Cheng reads it over and finds that it’s exactly what he needs to solve the problem he’s working on.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng whispers, expecting to be scolded like his mother used to do when she was still overseeing his homework, but Lan Qiren only shakes his head.

“Homework is there to learn, there’s no need to be sorry for not immediately understanding a concept,” he gives back and Jiang Cheng can only stare at him.

No one ever actually told him that it’s okay to not get things on the first try and Jiang Cheng ducks his head.

“Thank you,” he whispers and that seems to please Lan Qiren much more.

“Finish up here, and then set the table,” he says, squeezing Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, who nods. “We’ll be four people tonight.”

“Four?” Jiang Cheng blurts out and he goes cold.

“My nephews will come over for dinner today,” Lan Qiren says as if nothing is wrong with that and Jiang Cheng scrambles to get his things together.

“I’ll get out of your way, I’m sorry for intruding today,” Jiang Cheng rushes out, his heart heavy in his chest and he only stops his frantic movements when he realizes that Lan Qiren is staring at him.

“What are you doing?” he demands to know and Jiang Cheng looks down at his book, so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Getting out of your way,” he lowly says. “Leaving you to your family dinner.”

“Four people, Wanyin,” Lan Qiren reiterates and Jiang Cheng briefly wonders if Wei Wuxian is allowed to come.

He and Lan Wangji are certainly at the boyfriend meets parents stage of their relationship.

“And I don’t mean Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren then says and Jiang Cheng’s head snaps up.

“I can stay?” he unsurely asks, because surely Lan Qiren would want to be alone with his nephews but when Lan Qiren nods he sinks down on his chair again.

“Oh, okay,” Jiang Cheng whispers.

“Family dinner is for those I want to have around,” Lan Qiren says, and now he’s not quite meeting his eyes anymore. “And that includes you.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes immediately start to burn and he’s so tired of always bursting into tears when someone is nice to him, but he can’t help himself.

He didn’t have a chance to build up a tolerance for it yet even though Lan Qiren is very relentless in trying to rectify that.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng says once he’s sure that his voice will hold and he turns back around to his homework.

He’ll get it done and then he’ll set the table, just like Lan Qiren asked of him.

~*~*~

When the doorbell rings, Jiang Cheng flinches. He thought Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen would have a key but maybe it’s just common curtesy for them to announce their arrival differently.

“You have a key, so you will use it,” Lan Qiren tells him before he marches off and Jiang Cheng sits back down again.

There are low murmurs and then Lan Qiren leads his nephews into the room. They both freeze when they see Jiang Cheng at the table.

“I wasn’t aware we’d have company this evening,” Lan Xichen mildly says though he gives Jiang Cheng a small smile.

When Lan Wangji only stares at him, he sinks further into his chair.

“Wanyin will attend family dinners from now on,” Lan Qiren decides and Jiang Cheng’s eyes get big.

He had thought this would be a one-time thing.

“Alright,” Lan Xichen says easily and then goes off to help his uncle carry the dishes over to the table, something Jiang Cheng can’t do yet, because of the cast on his hand.

“Wei Ying said you went home,” Lan Wangji says after he sat down, a small frown on his face and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I didn’t,” Jiang Cheng gives back and when Lan Wangji only glares at him, he looks down at the table.

He really does feel like an intruder.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen chides his brother when they get back from the kitchen and even Lan Qiren seems displeased by Lan Wangji’s icy glare.

“Don’t mind him,” Lan Xichen says to Jiang Cheng sitting down next to him. “He doesn’t do well with changes, especially unannounced ones.”

“I see,” Jiang Cheng whispers even though he doesn’t.

He steals a glance at Lan Xichen, because it feels safer than to look at Lan Wangji again, and he startles when he finds Lan Xichen already looking at him.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know Lan Xichen well at all, because he is already attending university and has been ever since Wei Wuxian took an interest in Lan Wangji which really was the start of all of this, Jiang Cheng thinks.

Jiang Cheng is curious to know what exactly Lan Xichen is studying, but he can’t bring himself to ask before they start with dinner, and Jiang Cheng knows enough by now to keep his mouth shut while they are eating.

Lan Qiren’s reprimand the first time had been almost gentle, but Jiang Cheng is still very careful to never forget it again.

Once they are done, Lan Qiren asks Lan Wangji to go with him to his study, leaving only Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng behind.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t dare to think that Lan Qiren wants to speak to Lan Wangji because of how he treated Jiang Cheng this evening, but he fails to see how else he could interpret Lan Qiren’s many glares at Lan Wangji during dinner.

“Join me in the kitchen?” Lan Xichen asks as he gathers up all the dishes and Jiang Cheng nods, before he reaches out to take his own bowl.

“Give that to me,” Lan Xichen says before Jiang Cheng can pick it up and then Lan Xichen looks at his cast. “How is your wrist?”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng says and then winces. “It doesn’t hurt at all anymore, it’s mostly annoying,” he admits and gets a smaller smile for it, though this one seems more real than the others.

“Will it come off soon?” Lan Xichen wants to know as he gets started on cleaning the dishes and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I have an appointment with a doctor on Friday,” he says, still hearing his mother say how he better not miss it and Lan Xichen stops.

“It’s only been four weeks, though, right?” he questions and Jiang Cheng presses his lips together. “A broken bone needs longer than that. You shouldn’t rush it,” Lan Xichen advises him and Jiang Cheng almost lets out a bitter huff.

How is he supposed to take the time to heal properly when his mother will only take it as one more weakness from him.

“Uncle said you’re going to attend family dinner from now on?” Lan Xichen eventually says when it becomes clear that Jiang Cheng doesn’t have a reply for him.

“It seems like it,” Jiang Cheng says, still unsure about it, because he cannot believe that Lan Qiren would want him to come back again.

“It’s good,” Lan Xichen says and then he turns around towards Jiang Cheng, instantly putting him on edge.

“Uncle mentioned that you have a key, but barely use it,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng grimaces at that.

“Jiang Wanyin, if he gave you that key he wants you to use it,” Lan Xichen gently says and Jiang Cheng shrugs, because Lan Qiren said the same, but it’s still hard for Jiang Cheng to trust it.

“Uncle has been lonely since Wangji and I moved out,” Lan Xichen says almost out of the blue. “He would never admit to it, but it’s true. He misses coming home to someone. Wangji or I were usually home before him and one of us would cook. Uncle misses that the most, I think. A homecooked meal by someone who cares about him.”

“I—” Jiang Cheng starts and then doesn’t know how to go on, because it feels presumptuous to offer to cook for Lan Qiren when he doesn’t know if Lan Qiren would even want him to.

“I could show you his favourite dishes,” Lan Xichen offers and Jiang Cheng finds himself nodding before he can give it a conscious thought.

“Uncle likes his food light and without many spices,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng scoffs, because yeah, that he noticed already.

“He keeps some spices and chili sauce for you here, did you know?” Lan Xichen asks and before Jiang Cheng can call him out on his lie, Lan Xichen opens a cupboard and true to his words the spices and chili sauce are all there.

The thoughtfulness is enough to bring Jiang Cheng to tears again and he only feels slightly ashamed when Lan Xichen steps close and puts a hand to his shoulder.

“Uncle wants you here,” Lan Xichen says. “He’s not doing it out of pity, if that is what you think. He has always spoken very highly of you and he was worried long before he learned about your situation at home,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng burns with the knowledge that even Lan Xichen knows that his family home is shit.

“He didn’t go into details, but it’s clear that he wants to take care of you. He’s not good at saying it, he and Wangji are much alike in that, but he means it. So please come home more often,” Lan Xichen softly finishes and Jiang Cheng tries to hide his face when a few tears roll down his cheeks.

“I’ll try,” he chokes out and Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren choose that moment to come into the kitchen.

“Xichen,” Lan Qiren exclaims and is at Jiang Cheng’s side a moment later. “Do not be rude,” Lan Qiren chides him but before Lan Xichen can say something Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“He wasn’t. I’m fine,” he says, even though it’s clear to everyone in the kitchen that he’s not.

Lan Qiren still hovers at his side and Jiang Cheng almost thinks that funny, but then Lan Wangji clears his throat.

“See you next week, Jiang Wanyin,” he awkwardly says and it’s as much of a peace offering as Jiang Cheng will get from him so he simply nods at him.

“See you next week. Do not say hi to my brother for me,” Jiang Cheng says, because he’s not quite ready to have Wei Wuxian ask questions about it, and Lan Wangji seems to understand because he nods.

“Well, until next week then, uncle, Jiang Wanyin, have a pleasant evening,” Lan Xichen also says and pushes Lan Wangji out of the room before anyone else can say something.

“Family dinners are weekly,” Lan Qiren explains, yet again not quite looking at Jiang Cheng. “Plus a monthly brunch on the last Sunday in the month.”

It’s not quite an invitation, but by now Jiang Cheng dares to presume that it actually is an invitation and so he nods.

“I will be there,” he reassures Lan Qiren who strokes his beard.

“See to it that you are,” he says and then makes his way into the living-room.

Jiang Cheng remains in the kitchen until he feels at least a little bit composed again and then he joins Lan Qiren, who is practicing on his guqin.

Jiang Cheng has found that it’s excellent background noise to do some reading for class, so he settles down on the couch with his book and an approving look from Lan Qiren.

It does feel a little bit like home.

Next part!

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #jclovemonth2020 #the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #lan qiren #found family #hurt/comfort #bad parenting #lqr is the best #but so is lxc #anon #Anonymous

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thequeenofmyownscreen · 2 years ago

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Fourteen things I noted about CR2E100 “Hunted at Sea”

No Talks Machina about it, per se, because from this point on, they changed the format, and did Talks for a couple of episodes at a time. So I'll follow the airdate order, it's easier.

It's so good to have them back !!!!!!!!! Not gonna lie, with my own choice of pausing in Campaign 2, AND what has been going in Campaign 3, it has been a difficult time, because I just miss the Mighty Nein so much. But at the same time, I'm glad I did a little pause, even if it wasn't 4 months - people must have been going crazy at the time - and had the time to see puppets being murdered live, hear Ashley forgetting Grog's name, see Travis in a priest outfit, hear the inception of Critical Role itself, and see the Mercer-Rays almost burn their motherfucking house down.

Sam's poem was so great ! It made me tear up.

The seating arrangements is different in this socially-distanced set, and I already know I'm gonna miss Marisha and Travis the BrJeaus, Sam and Laura Nott the Best Detective Agency, Liam and Marisha the Empire Kids, and Ashley and Taliesin just cuddling.

Huh, Fjord/Travis taking the lead and commanding the crew and demonstrating his knowledge in how to run a ship is... Kind of hot !

The Mighty Nein's greatest defense works again : just Polymorphing the enemy into a turtle. The fact that the enemy was a dragon turtle before is just cherry on the cake

Fjord's prayer to the Wildmother : "I'm sorry I didn't check in before I got on the water, like a fucking NOOB !! Please watch over the cast... Huh, the crew !" amazing

What does the dragon turtle want ? The Mighty Nein theorizes its mate is stuck in Darktow and it "hasn't had sex in a long time". Beau : "Maybe we just need to hook it up ! Maybe he just needs to get laid." Sam : "Just finger bang that thing, and it'll all be okay." Taliesin : "...And we're back !" I really really missed those disasters.

Oh yes, let's try the other Mighty Nein's greatest defense : Jester psychologically scaring the enemy by Sending a message.

Marisha, who rolled shit on Beau's perception : "Fucking titties." Liam, under his breath : "That's the goal." (everyone starts laughing while Marisha nods sagely) Matt : "Even when Beauregard loses, she wins."

TravelerCon 3000 : there's between 20 and 200 people arriving. Sounds about right.

The flower-picking scene, oh my god. In my head, there is a top 5 off these kind of scenes filled with double-entendres, and this one comes just after the "Ash-hole" one in ExU s01. Laura as Jester : "Can I go down and look at the stem of the flower ? Is there any of that... you know how some flowers have white stuff that comes out of the stem when you pick it ?" (The cast barely stifle their laughter) "I'm not trying to be dirty !" Matt : "No, I know what you're talking about. You're also Laura Bailey, so we all assume."

Nervousness ? A sense of being watched ? THIS ISLAND IS SUPER FUCKING HAUNTED !

Nope, never mind, this island is the center of a cult with people who have their mind erased for something that calls itself a god but most certainly isn't (like all leaders of all cults)

AVOCADO ! Sam says it best : "The Mighty Nein : insulting people's gods since 2020."

#my thoughts #critical role #cr campaign 2 #CR2E100

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clairenatural · 4 years ago

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Suptober 2020, Day 23: Favorite (destiel, 1.2k. fluff!)

It gets destroyed on a hunt, slashed clean through to his arm. Dean rips off a strip to tie around the wound and discards the rest of the flannel in a nearby trash can. He fixes his shirts, when he can—he’s had some shirts for a decade or more that way, and he’ll fix up his favorites until they’re just lumps of dollar store sewing thread if he has to—but the fallen shirt isn’t his favorite. He’s had it for a decade, too, but he barely wears it. He pulled it out of the back of his closet on laundry day, probably, and has kept it in his duffle bag for hunts ever since. It’s off-white and gross yellow and muted red and it has snaps, not buttons, and Dean’s not sure why he kept it around anyway.

So it meets its end, ripped and bloody, in a trash can. And Dean doesn’t think much about it. They limp back to the motel and Sam patches up his arm and he throws away the impromptu bandage, and that’s that.

Except it’s not, because two weeks later there it is—hanging in his closet, good as new. Well, not good as new, but the hole has been sewn up and the torn edge has been patched with a plaid that matches remarkably well. It’s obviously hand done, and the stitches are meticulous if not exactly skilled, and Dean pulls it off the hanger and stares at it for a moment before groaning. Of course the ghost had to somehow follow them home. “Sam!” he yells, already backing out of his room in search of salt. “We have a problem!” At least flannel burns.

Castiel answers him before Sam does, nearly colliding with Dean in the hallway as he steps out of his own bedroom. “Dean, what—” he starts, but then stops himself, frowning. “Why are you holding that shirt like it’s going to bite you?”

“Keep it moving, Cas.” Dean tries to step around him. There isn’t time for questions. “This got shredded on the hunt but here it is again, good as new. I’m thinking our ghost friend hitched a ride somehow.”

Cas’ eyes widen, and he hastily moves to block Dean’s way again. “No.”

Dean furrows his brow, but stops moving. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, there’s no ghost.” Cas looks down, avoiding eye contact. “I did that. I fixed your shirt.”

What.

Dean must be staring, because Cas continues in a rush. He sounds nervous. “I noticed it was destroyed, so I went back and got it, and...well. I tried my best.”

Dean thinks about how Cas took longer than usual on his beer run that night. At least the timing makes sense, but everything else? He frowns. “Okay, uh. Why?”

Castiel finally looks up at Dean, then. He considers his next words carefully, long enough that Dean half expects him to turn and walk right back into his bedroom without answering. “Because it’s my favorite.”

He says it so calmly, so straightforward, like it’s the most obvious answer. It’s the same way he always says these things—the same tone as because God commanded it so many years ago, like both are just facts of the universe, and—wait a second.

Dean looks at the shirt. He looks back at Castiel, who seems to be watching the gears turn in Dean’s head. He suddenly remembers meeting Sam in a motel room and pulling off Bobby’s old Henley to change into one of Sam’s old flannels. He remembers driving four hours to see a psychic and complaining to Sam about the cuff snaps on the drive. He remembers a barn, with Bobby, waiting for a monster that turned out to be an angel.

“Hold on,” it clicks into place. “Is this—this is that shirt? From the barn.” The last part isn’t a question.

From the smile on Cas’ face, Dean knows he’s got it right. “Yes.”

“And it’s your favorite.”

“Yes.”

“Of my shirts.”

“Yes.”

“I never even wear it, man.”

“And yet you’ve kept it for twelve years,” Cas points out, and, well, damn. He’s got him, there.

Dean shifts and breaks the eye contact, feeling strangely sheepish. “Yeah, well. It’s a good shirt,” he mumbles, but Cas looks amused and Dean knows he’s not fooling either of them. It’s not a good shirt.

“You never even wear it,” Cas echoes, then—“man,” he adds, after some consideration, and it’s so oddly endearing coming from Cas’ mouth that Dean can’t be mad he’s been caught in his lie.

Cas steps forward and reaches out to touch the flannel, trains his gaze on the shirt before he starts talking again. His tone has become solemn. “This shirt is my favorite because that night, in the barn—” he takes a breath, “—was the most important night of my long, long life. And I couldn’t bear to see it discarded. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” He glances back at Dean, then, and Dean—unsure of how to process that—gapes back at him, and they stand there for several long seconds just staring at each other.

Finally, Dean’s brain catches up, and it’s like everything slides into place. He smiles and takes a step closer. “You know why I kept this shirt for twelve years, Cas?” he asks, because he remembers, now. He’s not sure how he ever forgot.

“Why?” Cas replies, just as quietly, and Dean’s not sure when they started whispering but it fits how heavy the words feel.

Dean is planning something intelligent to say in response, like because it was the most important night of mine, too or because I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t been the one to save me or even you told me that night I deserve to be saved, and so does this shirt. But between blinks Castiel has somehow managed to move even closer, close enough that their noses are almost touching, and suddenly no words seem like they’ll be enough. And maybe some part of his brain is finally fed up with the decade of pining, maybe his logic brain is still distracted by trying to detangle why Cas would hand-stitch his old shirt with that much care, but it suddenly seems like the only thing that would be enough would be...to close the gap and kiss him.

So he does.

Cas kisses him back before he has the chance to second-guess this decision, and Dean drops the flannel to wrap both arms around Castiel’s waist as his hands move up to Dean’s face, to his hair. He crowds Dean against the hallway wall, and Dean is suddenly very glad that wherever Sam is, he was too far away to come running when Dean called.

They break apart eventually because, unfortunately, humans do need to breathe, and Dean leans their foreheads together as he struggles to catch his breath. “I guess I should wear that shirt more often, huh?” he grins down at Castiel, who chuckles and presses a kiss to Dean’s jaw.

“No, Dean. It’s not a good shirt.”

Dean pulls back as far as the wall will allow, eyebrows raised. “I thought it was your favorite.”

“It is, because that night is my favorite. Because you are my favorite.” Cas is staring at him in something close to exasperation, as if Dean should have figured this out by now.

Dean just smiles and kisses him again.

#suptober20 #destiel #deancas #destiel fluff #deancas fluff #first kisses #i was so mean to the shirt in this #it's not that bad lmao it's a fine shirt #the pacing here is odd but.#felt good to WRITE again! sorry ive been so spotty w suptober :/#my words

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cupidcreates · 4 years ago

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Hi, I hope the last day of 2020 will be a success for you. I have a request for yandere Dabi and / or Chisaki when they hear that their dear, affectionate s/o call them "love" or "happiness of my life"

Affectionate Names

With Yanderes Dabi and Overhaul

(Oh my fucking GOD beech I’m SO SORRY this took LITERAL MONTHS to post. I promise I’m never gonna let an ask sit for that long again holy crap. I really hope this was worth the wait bestie, I tried really hard to make it cute for you nonny. Hope you like it!)

Touya Todoroki - Dabi

Disgust, Anger, Hatred, Fear, Dabi’s used to these emotions playing across the faces of the people he interacts with. He knows how he appears to others, how his very visage causes visceral reactions of discomfort in others. He’s fine with that, in fact he revels in it.

If it’s not the abject loathing of a stranger than it’s the cool detachment of his allies. Dabi finds a sort of warmth, even an odd sense of comfort in their gazes. It’s distant, reserved, and to the point; Dabi never has to question what his allies want from him or what their intentions are.

The indifference many find cold is rather temperate to Dabi.

The fair weather is what he likes. Nothing too cold, nothing too hot, nothing can be resurrected from mild memories.

Dabi was content with this treatment.

Until he met you.

It had been a long time since anything stoked the kind of fire in his chest like you did. Heat typically coincided with anger, but you didn’t make him angry.

That’s not to say he didn’t mistake it for anger at first. He definitely wanted you dead, seemingly at random, for a few days after seeing you pass by him on the street.

But after a while of reflection he realized you didn’t ignite his hate the way thoughts of his family, his father, or society did.

No, this was a completely different feeling, something brand new.

Something to be explored, immediately.

There was something about you he needed, something you had that he had to get for himself.

And Dabi’s not one to not get his way.

He set out to have you, and have you he did. It took longer than he might have liked (though, anything but immediate compliance is too long for Dabi) and you put up a better fight than he would have expected but he did eventually get you swept away from your previous life.

In his mind he won you over.

In your mind, and in reality, he stole you away from your home in the dead of night and trapped you in an undisclosed location until you eventually broke and developed Stockholm syndrome.

After all, he wasn’t mean to you. He kept you fed and watered, the basement stayed a nice mild temperature, and the rats that scuttled about were actually kind of cute when you looked at them the right way.

You were eventually happy, which is what Dabi wanted as it finally allowed him to get close to you.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted from you. He’d started by simply sitting by your side (once you had calmed down enough to let him do so without screaming) then he progressed to holding you (awkward as it was at first) and once he could trust that you wouldn’t run off he allowed you free roam of the hideout.

Free roam as in you were attached to his hip.

He brought you nearly everywhere, as if he was a child and you were his favorite stuffed bear. He wasn’t sure why he felt he needed you around, but he figured he’d find out if he gave it enough time.

And it’s not like you were trouble, you were actually very helpful, getting him out of more than a few scrapes and sticky situations.

He eventually surmised that this, whatever you two had going on, was something like the affection he missed out on in his youth. It was nice to hold your hand, nice to sit you in his lap as he listened to Shigaraki drone on about his next plan, nice to spend a night with you on the rooftops.

The time he spent with you didn’t strike a chord in him like his first encounter with you did, but he was content.

He could only ever be content.

He didn’t need anything stronger than baseline serenity.

Or so he thought.

He thought right up until the night he was sitting alone in his room (room being a generous term for the hovel hole in the wall he kept his nearly flattened mattress in) dissociating after a very long day.

Dabi tried not to dissociate frequently, it was best to stay aware of your surroundings when you’re a wanted criminal, but when he did allow himself to fall into this state he was typically here for hours. Nearly comatose as he fled back into his mind.

You knocking softly at the door went completely unnoticed, in fact he didn’t even realize you were there until you had entered the room and sat next to him on the mattress.

Your presence took him completely by surprise and shocked him out of his stupor. It took him a moment to recover his composure and re-mask, and in those several seconds with his guard down you saw Dabi’s face more youthful and innocent than you ever had.

You’d asked him a question, he was aware of that much, but the only thing he caught, the only thing he registered was the word at the very end of your sentence.

“Are you okay, love?”

Love

Rather forcefully Dabi was taken back to his childhood; before his quirk manifested, before his siblings were born to replace him, before his own family turned on him in favor of his youngest brother. It had been so long since someone had called him love; so long since his mother would come into his room early in the morning and brush his bangs out of his face, softly calling to him to wake him up and ready him for the day.

Having already been in a vulnerable state, the name cut through him like a knife. Shaken to his core by the memories ripped fresh in his mind he was, for the first time in his life, grateful that his tear ducts had been burned away so long ago.

He gave nothing away, his face already masked up again and his demeanor its typical cool indifference. He spoke to you as he always had, the tremble in his voice only perceptible to him.

He pushed his head into your shoulder and was silent for a while, just taking in you presence, before offhandedly telling you that he didn’t mind if you called him that again. In private of course.

Love

He thought he could get used to that.

Kai Chisaki - Overhaul

Open affection was not only not necessary in Chisaki’s life but also abjectly disgusting.

Perhaps he never really had good examples of tender kindness and open endearment as a child. Maybe he simply couldn’t comprehend affection in the way others could.

In any case, physical fondness and other such displays of the sentiment were completely foreign to Chisaki.

He didn’t mind this, he had much more pressing matters to attend to. Having a partner of any sort other than business would only slow him down.

Oh but you just had to come along, didn’t you? Had to go nosing around where you didn’t belong, a foolish venture already, and then you had to be incompetent's enough to get yourself caught waist deep in his business.

It didn’t matter, you didn’t matter, whatever you knew about what he was doing didn’t mean a damn thing. All he had to do now was keep you quiet.

For good.

He had to kill you, this much he knew. He’d have no issue doing it, after all who were you anyway? A nosy little cashier at a run-down shop on the brink of bankruptcy. You had no family, if you did they certainly didn’t care about you if the state of and neighborhood your apartment was located in was anything to go by.

You were a threat to the sanctity of his mission, a potential interference to his operation. Simply put you had to go. This was fine, nothing personal. Just business.

But oh you just had to didn’t you? Had to look at him with the most pathetically pleading eyes he’s ever seen as you begged him to let you live. You already knew what he was up to, undoubtedly you understood the torture and death he willingly inflicted upon others. You knew the pleading would do you no good, surely you knew your death was inevitable.

Except that it wasn’t, was it.

Because you had to, you had to come along with a face too sweet to be atomized. Had to, somehow, worm your way into his brain and stop him from dismantling your upper body.

Was this your quirk? Were you somehow influencing him? It had to be something of your doing, the tightness in his chest and warmth in his stomach was something of your doing.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring himself to destroy something so precious, so pure even. He just couldn’t do it.

But no obstacle comes without workarounds, and he didn’t have an underground labyrinth of empty rooms to not be used.

So if killing you was out of the picture, his only recourse was to keep you hidden away. At least long enough for him to figure out a permanent solution for you.

Living toys are so much more fun to play with anyway.

He kept you holed up in a secret room, watched your every move as months passed. You were very interesting to him, in fact he found almost all of his (precious little) spare time consumed by you. He made sure to visit you daily, though your fear kept you mostly mute at the beginning.

Once you were sure he wasn’t going to obliterate you, he noticed you relaxed and even opened up a little bit. You even allowed him to touch you gently a few times and, to his surprise, he never broke out after his skin made contact with yours.

He figured you must have been sent to him, by some divine or cosmic intervention. You grew on him quickly and he made sure to pamper you in any way he could, moving you to a larger, more luxurious wing of the lair and making sure you had three meals a day of only the best quality food.

One morning he’d decided to visit you earlier than usual, walking down the long hallway towards your room and considering the topic of conversation today.

As he neared your room he overheard you speaking with the associate assigned to your meal delivery today. Pausing just outside the door he caught the tail end of your conversation.

“...so lonely until Chisaki visits. The room is lovely but he’s truly the only happiness of my rather dull life.”

Chisaki considered this for a moment. Perhaps it was a clever deception? Something for him to intentionally overhear and cause him to lower his guard?

Couldn’t be though, he’d never visited you this early, if you wanted to deceive him you’d have waited until your evening meal to speak these words.

A sudden, rather disconcerting warmth overtook Chisaki; Like a flower of light suddenly blooming in his chest he was overtaken by the urge to abandon everything and stay by your side until he withered away and his bones turned to dust.

Regaining his sanity he shook the thought from his head. He’d worked too hard for too long to let go of this now. No, he’d have to continue with his operation, the consequences of letting go now would be too great.

He was, however, sorry to hear that your life thus far had been dull. Had you said this months ago he would have scoffed, because of course the life of a cashier was dull; but now, after months of you having been here, it should have improved.

The only assumption left for him to make was that this must have been his doing. Fair enough on his part, as he couldn’t be sure trusting you was a wise idea.

But if this was how you truly felt about him, maybe he could consider letting you have greater roam of the property. He might even allow you time outside.

Only if you brought your happiness along, of course.

#answered #extra stuff #yandere bnha #yandere mha #touya todoroki #kai chisaki #dabi #overhaul #reader x dabi #reader x overhaul

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duskamethyst · 4 years ago

Text

only mine.

a/n: my first bnha fic! im in love with the anime and i simp for so many characters aha

word count: 1.6k

genre: mature, implied nsfw (characters are aged up)

warnings: kidnapping, drugging, yandere behavior

pairing: yan!kaminari x gn!reader

summary: you and kaminari are fuck buddies.

“man, can’t you just sleep over?” kaminari groans as he rolls onto his side, his elbow props himself up to watch you get off the bed to collect your clothes that were stripped and thrown onto the floor.

“denki, no.” you say sternly while putting on your hoodie, missing the pouty look on the male’s face.

“not even for one night?” he pleads.

“nope!” you stick out your tongue teasingly before walking towards the door and turning the knob. “not ever.”

“sheesh, you’re such a hardass.”

“call me whatever you want,” you roll your eyes as you step out and slowly close the door before peeking your head in again, “see ya.”

it has been months since you and kaminari been fucking on each other’s bed. it started with small talks before he (quickly-- after just a couple of times seeing each other) began to openly flirt with you. kaminari was a fun a guy to be around with, kind of dumb and he looked like he meant no harm. you decided to entertain the fellow, shamelessly retaliate his flirtatious behavior (which was so much better than his game that it made him flustered often) until the both of you found yourselves together, bare and dripping with sweat in bed.

you and kaminari formed a “pact” that it should remain as is, no strings attached and leaving the only label on it as fwb. being each others’ booty call is hell lot of fun, the sex is bomb and you don’t have to commit and have feelings for each other. you made it clear that this should remain a secret and that you both are free to fuck around with other people too but as much you’d like to believe that he understood it, kaminari never failed to constantly spam your phone with unnecessary texts about your well being, how your day went or asking if you wanted to go to shopping with him. it was a bit suffocating but if he was lucky enough, he’d get a short reply if not left on read.

you stick to your own belief that is to leave as soon as you’re done wrecking each other. no cuddles, no pillow talks or whatever those cheesy things couples normally do because the more time you spend together, there would be no doubt that one of you would start to catch feelings and it’s the last thing you want to have right now. the longest that you would stay at his place was only to take a quick shower after doing the deed, but not before having him almost begging to come in with you.

still, that doesn’t stop the male to often ask you to hang out and stay with him after a couple of hours together. you had to constantly remind him how this whole thing works but sometimes you could still see how he was burning holes behind other people who he thought was looking at you for too long or making you laugh too much and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he was taking this differently from you. whenever you confronted him about it, he’d get extremely defensive about his behavior and said you were just imagining it or that he was joking. not wanting to argue any further, you’d often leave it at that.

hanging around with the guys is when his little antics gets worse. kirishima often invites the crew to his place to play video games and he always manages to find a way to lay a finger on you or openly flirts with you. he’d usually make sure that he is the one that gets to sit next to you or purposely hangs an arm protectively around your shoulders as he casually speaks to the others-- which earns the both of you some weird looks. kaminari notices it and he lives for it. it makes him even prouder to be able to claim you in some sort of way.

“been kinda wondering-- you guys are fucking each other or something?” sero suddenly questions while his eyes are glued to the screen in desperation of beating bakugou in the racing game.

“hell ye- OUCH!” you yank your elbow on kaminari’s side to cut him off.

“who the hell would?” you quickly reply, earning some laughs from the other males present.

“then, you’re free after this?” he turns his head to wink at you, giving a small room of opportunity for bakugou to slip through sero’s car and eventually finish the whole two laps.

the blonde male grunts and hits sero’s head with his controller, “fucking idiot! you didn’t even take this seriously! kirishima! you’re next!”

“well, someone’s bound to take care of that bump on your head now, huh?” you tease, and sero is one to quickly catch on to that as a wide grin spreads across his face.

“dude, i owe you one!” he chuckles and lightly taps on bakugou’s shoulder.

“i should’ve kicked you in the balls.” he grumbles, finger expertly pushing one of the joysticks as he chooses his preferred sports car for the next race.

the night goes on as usual, each of you taking turns on the racing game that bakugou insists on only playing for the rest of the night which none of you dared to say otherwise. everyone has their shares of laughs, you think-- missing the scowl on kaminari’s face whenever you choose to only spare him your half-assed attention while sero shows you his collection of memes on his phone. it’s probably mean of him to think how sero looks like a fucking simp that has to impress you in order to woo you for the night but he couldn’t care less. he knows you best-- knows how you do things your way and seeing you “subtly” being flirtatious right in front of his face angers him to no end.

you’re acting like it, like a... what was it again? a whore? it has been at the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t dare to say it. he feels bad enough to even think about you that way and know that he shouldn’t since you both are in this stupid “relationship” that people use as an excuse just to hop from one dick or pussy to another because they’re too “afraid” of or don’t want any commitments or whatever. kaminari gets the idea, he’s not that dense but it’s unfair how he can’t bring himself to do things like you-- not when he’s already catching feelings this quick.

for the sake of not wanting to ruin the night nor the only thing that binds you to him, he chooses to keep his cool until you guys part ways. he doesn’t even realize how hard he’s clenching his fists when he finds out that you left with sero while he’s gone for a bathroom break.

— come over tonight? ;-)

a week has passed since that night. you notice that kaminari haven’t been constantly flooding your inbox like he used to and it has been the least of your worries. in fact, you enjoyed it. you had your time being around other people more without having them to think that he’s a threat to them and he was less touchy than he used to be. you have no clue about the reason for his change in attitude and you couldn’t find the reason to ponder about it anyways.

he comes over as asked, an activity that is far from foreign for the both of you. kaminari happily shows you the bottle of booze from his bag as he enters your home-- neither of you has to say it, you both know that you’re going to have mindless, drunk sex tonight.

“don’t worry, i’ll make sure to sleep on the couch.” he reassures, pouring the liquor into two glasses in your kitchen as you sit down lazily on the couch.

“you better be,” you reply, going through the movies available on netflix from the tv screen. “you can choose what you wanna watch.”

kaminari walks over and offers you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you. he goes through the movies before choosing one, sipping on his drink and glancing towards you through the corner of his eyes once in a while. he can’t help but to suppress a smile through his glass when he catches you take a gulp and your face squirm at the bitter taste.

“it’s so strong.” you mumble after a few more sips and a few minutes into the movie that you are trying to pay attention to. you believe that your alcohol tolerance isn’t that bad but the way those few sips are already making your head spin instead of the familiar high that should succumb your mind by now.

“for real? i think you’re just imagining it.” he replies coyly as his eyes bore through the screen.

“i’m not--” the spinning starts to become unbearable and your eyelids are getting heavy so you quickly lay your head down and close your eyes on the couch in an attempt to soothe it down before kaminari reaches to rub smooth circles on your head.

“shh, do you wanna puke?” his voice is too calm despite the situation. knowing him, he’d be absolutely frantic when things go wrong. you try to open your eyes, but the lights do nothing but cruelly inflict the pain even more.

“no.. i just-- carry me to bed..?” you whine as you welcome the comfort he’s offering.

kaminari just watches you as you slowly drift into a deep slumber, your chest heaving up and down as you breathe. he calls your name a few times to test the waters before he finally lets out a sinister chuckle and hovers over your body to kiss your cheek.

“poor baby. don’t worry, i’ll bring you somewhere nicer.” he whispers as he gazes adoringly at your unlively state. so vulnerable.

“then i can have you all to myself.”

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andysbubba · 4 years ago

Text

friends [ two ]

-> steve’s your best friend. you know damn well that won’t change. [ also you’re really stubborn in this au and steve has to deal with that ]

AKA two idiots in love but one doesn't want to admit it

link to chapter one | two | three | four |

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

10 years later, 2020

“How is it going with you two?” Bucky sips his coffee as he sits across you and Steve.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

“I would’ve expected a wedding invitation by now from both of you,” He looks at the two of you pointedly.

You choke on your latte and then glanced at Steve. “Seriously?”

Steve glances back at you and laughed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

Bucky bursts out in laughter. “Shit. That was priceless!”

“Oh shut up, Buck.” Steve rolls his eyes at his friend.

“Yeah, Barnes. We’re just friends,” You nudge Steve with your shoulder. “Right, Steve?”

Steve shrugs and nods, leaning in front and picking up a fork to cut into his slice of chicken pie. “Yeah,”

Jesus. What was that stinging pain in your heart?

Steve left for the washroom and it was just you and Bucky.

“Bitch move, Y/N.”

You look at Bucky cluelessly. “What did I do?”

“That guy is hopelessly in love with you and you just told him that you two are just friends.” He pointedly says.

You roll your eyes in reply. “You’re exaggerating. He’s not hopelessly in love with me, Buck.”

“Say that to his lost, sad, depressed puppy dog face whenever you get into a new relationship.” Bucky kicks your leg under the table.

“You’re just bullshitting now, Barnes.”

There was no way Bucky was right. Your mum’s told you the same thing, so did Steve’s parents. And then there was Natasha who said something along the lines too. Lets not forget Sam either.

Steve being in love with you? That’s just impossible.

“You shouldn’t deny the truth, Y/L/N.”

Steve walks back to the table. “Deny what?”

You turn to Steve in slight surprise before you quickly recovered. “Bucky was just saying some things about-”

“-About how you’ve been in love with Y/N since you were kids,” Bucky interrupts you.

Steve blushes immediately, the pink flowing up to his pale cheeks and he stuttered a little. “W-what?”

You step on Bucky’s toes with your boots and glare at him. His knee shoots up and hits the table as he groans in pain.

You turned to Steve and smiled kindly, “Nope, Bucky was just playing with you,”

Steve nods and settles back on the seat beside you.

You thought to yourself while the two guys chat about yesterday’s baseball game.

Steve gets sad when you get into a new relationship? And then he gets awkward when you say that you two are just friends.

Damn it, Bucky.

But Steve’s just being Steve. He’s always awkward... right?

“I’m not even kidding, Nat. Like seriously, Steve? Liking me?” You huff.

“Think about it this way,” She was lying on the couch, her legs resting on your lap. “He has a lot of flings and ex girlfriends. But why did none of them last long?”

You look down at her. “Because he hasn’t found the right person?”

Natasha shrugs. “That could be one. But you two already act like a couple.” She shifted and sits up straight, turning to you seriously. “He’s looking around for something he already has. Except, it isn’t official.”

You were meeting Natasha so you ended up leaving the guys earlier at the cafe. Apparently, they were planning on having some guys night with Sam.

You frown at Natasha. “We don’t act like a couple.”

Nat raised an eyebrow at you with a ‘really’ expression. “You cuddle, you know what each other like and dislikes, he spends money on you, you spend money on him and you sleep together on the same bed.”

“Isn’t that the norm for best friends?”

Tasha rolls her eyes. “You don’t see Sam kiss my forehead before he goes home or see Bucky buy me an iPad, now, do you?”

“I’ve known Steve since I was one.” You pointed out.

This topic was seriously making you think like crazy. You didn’t even know you acted like a couple with Steve. Like seriously???

“Valid point. But do you really think his exes give a shit about that when he helps you put on your coat and shit?”

“But-”

Natasha laughs at you, completely stopping your speech. “Denial is not a good look on you, sweetie.”

You sigh as Nat stands up and heads into the kitchen.

She comes back out with two bottles of beer. “Listen, Y/N. All I’m saying is, maybe you don’t see it but everyone around you sees what’s going on.” She settles beside you on the couch. “Your brain just functions at a slower rate than others.”

You gasp and smack her arm harshly. “Rude!”

Nat bursts out in laughter before calming down and snuggled into you. “Just, if it’s meant to be, it will happen someday. Forcing things will only make it worse.”

“Does he really sulk when I get into relationships?” You rest your head on top of Natasha’s.

“Yeap!”

You sigh again. “Okay then, why do my relationships not last long?”

“Because the intimacy you want with said partner is already something you share with Steve.” Nat stops and tried to think of a way to convey her thoughts. “Minus the kisses and sex.”

You sighed for what seemed like the nth time that day. “Alright lets change topics. How are your ballet lessons going?”

You had some guy named Jake over at your place a few days after your girls night with Nat. It was just a one night thing and he was already in the corridor outside your apartment when Steve appeared from the stairs, slightly breathless.

You see his face drop when he sees the guy standing outside your door. Wait- why have you never seen that before? It wasn’t the first time Steve came over while there was a guy at your apartment?

Fuckfuckfuck. Damn it, Bucky. And Natasha.

“Hey, Steve.” You turn to Jake, or was it Jacob? “Bye, Joseph.”

Said guy just looks at you in shock. “It’s John.”

“Yeah, potato, potahto.” You flashed him a grim smile before dragging Steve into your apartment and leaving the John in the corridor.

“I’ll make breakfast?” You ask Steve, already making your way to the kitchen.

He follows closely behind you. “I’ll help. What do you want?”

“Mom’s congee?”

Steve looks at you in shock. “You’re the best.”

“I know, Stevie.” You wink at him. “Just fry the chicken. And cut the onions, please, I beg you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Steve hurriedly washed his hand and took whatever he needed from the fridge.

“You wanna call the others to hang out?”

Steve shrugs, “Up to you. But you call. I just washed my hands.”

You took out your phone and shoot a text to the groupchat. The one with Sam, Nat and Bucky.

Y/N: congee day

Y/N: no beer no entry.

Sam: OOOO

Nat: beer and congee? seriously?

Y/N: hey, no one’s forcing you to come nat ??

Sam: there in an hour. with beer.

Bucky: is steve making his fried chiken

Y/N: yeah

Nat: fine i’ll be there with bucky in 20 mins

Y/N: bring gummy bears please thank you ily

Steve glanced down at his smartwatch at raised his brows at your last text.

“Gummy bears, really?”

“Gummy bears and beer is literally the best thing Stevie,” You snort, “But of course you wouldn’t know since you’re an old hag, Steven.”

Steve gasps, looking at you in shock. “Did you just-”

You smirk at him, casually walking to the fridge. “You know I did, Rogers.”

You looked inside the fridge, completely not noticing that Steve was already behind you.

You turn around after grabbing a can of Schwepps from the fridge. You jumped seeing Steve towering right behind you. “Jesus, Steve.”

“You wanna try that again?” He held his hands up on both sides of the fridge, eyes twinkling playfully.

You shake your head and pointed at him. “None of the food war crap. I had to clean up the mess the last time.”

Steve gazed down at you. “You better take it back if you don’t want a new mess to clean up.”

You took the time to look at him– really look at him.

Steve's hot, and goodlooking. You’ve already known that. But have you ever really looked at him?

How there’s that weird drain between his brows when he’s frowning, or how his chin is like a shade darker than the rest of his face. There’s a spot on his cheek and his forehead. You’ve never really noticed them before. His eyes always had a shine. The only time you saw it dull was at his dad’s funeral and then again when Sarah Rogers passed away about 4 years after. Your parents took him in straight afterwards.

Those blue eyes are always so intense. Whether he’s trying to get a thread into the needle or reading Paper Towns, Steve’s eyes are so goddamn intense. Like he’s trying to burn a hole through the pages of that stupid book.

“You’re staring,” He noted, even though his eyes were deeply staring into you too.

“You’re staring,” You dutifully told him in return.

“I’m looking,” You see his eyes glancing down to your lips quickly and then back into your eyes.

Your eyes shifted down to his lips too. You know how it feels firsthand. Plump and soft, and it feels so good against your own. The natural pink only compliments his pale skin.

It has never been this intense. He was staring into you and you were gazing into him. His body warmth completely overrides the cold air of the fridge behind you. And his presence was... present, huge. Was this what people called sexual tension?

Damn it, Bucky. And Natasha. And Sam. And your parents.

Fuck.

His gaze switched between your eyes and lips, leaning down slowly and hesitantly. You leaned in too, slowly going up on the tip of your toes.

You could feel his breath on your face.

“We shouldn’t,” You whispered lowly.

“I know,” Steve’s hand still shifted to your jaw, though and he's caressing very lightly.

Your hands trailed up and linked at the back of his neck, and you completely press your lips against his.

Fuck.

It has been at least a year since you’ve been this close to Steve. But this, this was just different.

Steve kisses you back, lips soft but a little rough. It reminds you perfectly of the first time you kissed him he kissed you.

There was a thought in the back of your mind about how this was possibly going to be awkward later. But, fuck. His lips feels too good to stop.

You pull away from him, just about an inch or two away from his lips. “Steve,”

He speaks lowly, “I swear if you tell me that we shouldn’t do this...”

“We shouldn’t.” You breathed deeply. “But we need to talk about this,”

“Talk about what?” His voice raises the slightest bit. “Talk about how I’ve been in lo-”

The doorbell rings.

And just like that, your moment broke.

Steve closed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, before he completely pulls away from you and turned around.

“Go get the door. I’ll get started on the chicken.”

You listened, stepping out of the kitchen and to towards the door. Your mind was still processing what just happened. Was he about to say... But, Fuck.

Even if he did say it, you have no idea what you’d do.

Your hand curls around the door knob and you pushed it down and pulled the door open.

Nat and Bucky were on the other side, holding up bags and something that looks like 10 bags of gummy bears.

Not that you have any complaints.

“Your face looks weird. What happened?” Natasha brushes past you as she strides into your apartment, dropping her handbag on the dining table and then going into the kitchen.

“Yeah, you look weird. Why does the house seem so quiet?” Bucky asks next, pushing past you and going straight into the kitchen.

“Yeah, cause I just kissed Steve. Of course it’s gonna be like the fucking Kardashians’ house, ain’t it?” You mutter lowly under your breath, knowing damn well they can’t hear you.

“Hey, Steve,” Tasha sets the bags in the counter before she goes over and pecks Steve on his cheek. “You look weird too. What happened between you two?” She glances between you and Steve with a question mark on her face.

“Did you have sex?”

You turn to Bucky almost immediately. “No!”

“Alright, no need to get so defensive, Tiger. Did you kiss?”

The blush on Steve’s cheeks and the silence from you was a good enough answer for the both of then.

“Oh, so something did happen, huh?” Natasha teased, eyes glinting with some sort of evil.

“Shut up.” Steve grunts as he continues dipping small chicken cubes into flour and then into the egg mixture.

“Did you kiss his dick or just his mouth?”

You roll your eyes, stepping towards the sink to wash your hands, completely ignoring Bucky’s question.

You eyed Steve from your peripheral vision. He was silent too.

Well, fuck.

like comment reblog? i’ll love you forever

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #Steven Grant Rogers #steverogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #Steve Rogers #Marvel #Captain America #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x reader

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hot-wiings · 4 years ago

Text

The One Where Katsuki Bakugo Gives You A Priceless Gift For Christmas. Alternatively, The One Where [Y/N] [L/N] Buys Her Boyfriend A Joke Gift.

Edited: 12-1-2020

The fire crackled as you walked into the entertainment room of the rented cabin you were staying in. It was nice, it had a fairly well fireplace that kept the entire cabin warm and it had relatively spacious rooms. It was supposed to be a nice romantic getaway from the city, Christmas in a rustic cabin. An escape from your busy lives as heroes, an escape from work, villains, and responsibility. You were sure Katsuki would have been enjoying his time with you had he not been so annoyed.

Last-minute Mina and Denki found out about your plans, she and he wormed their way into getting invited. It wasn't like you had a real reason not to let them tag along, it was a three-bedroom cabin, and you weren't going to tell them they couldn't come because you planned on getting railed on the holiest holiday of the year. You end up inviting them and Eijirou, much to Katsuki's displeasure.

You made a quick way around the presents on the floor as you reached the love seat next to the fireplace. Katsuki had woken you up and gave you specific instructions to get two cups of coffee and preserve the good couch for the both of you before 'those damn extras' get another chance to ruin his holiday.

You were glad you got the desired couch before Mina or Denki could. It was right by the fire giving you a toasty feeling, but you knew halfway through opening presents you would be curled up against your boyfriend, receiving his heat instead.

"You get the good seat?"

"Yup!"

Katsuki plopped himself down next to you into the two-person loveseat and took his coffee mug from your outstretched hand. He let out a soft grunt as he took some of the substance down his throat.

"I woke them up, should be out here once they dry off."

"I thought you were joking. I specifically told you not to throw snow on them."

"Since when do I listen."

"Santa's gonna give you coal for Christmas."

Your voice came out in a singsong voice, teasing him. He had no clue that you, in fact, did get him coal for Christmas. It was a joke gift that Mina convinced you to get him. The idea of your boyfriend opening coal was too enticing to turn down. To be fair, it wasn't like you didn't get him something else. The minute you're done opening gifts, Katsuki was going to get his real present in the bedroom.

"Speaking of gifts, you're never gonna beat the gift I bought you."

"Oh?"

"Fuck, you're gonna love your gift."

Katsuki placed a quick kiss on the side of your head before rummaging through all the gifts on the floor, looking for the small box he packaged up and wrapped months ago. He knew he wanted to give you this, he wanted to pop the question. He had been trying to pop it for months now but he couldn't find the right way, it had to be perfect. It was Eijirou who convinced him to just wrap it up for Christmas, but he hadn't counted on the two dumber individuals of his friend group to try and tag along on the trip, he also hadn't counted on you letting them tag along. Luckily he had Eijirou, shitty hair was supposed to keep dumb and dumber out of the room while he gave you this gift.

"Open it."

You caught the small box that your boyfriend tossed at you and smiled at him. You shook it slightly before taking a drink from your coffee and placing it on the table next to you.

"Katsuki, we've gotta wait for the others."

"Just open it, trust me. Before they come in."

"Fine..."

You bit your lip as you made work on the tape and peeled off the paper. You pulled a small black velvet box out of the wrapping and flipped it open. You pulled your hand up to your mouth in shock as you looked at the ring. It was gorgeous, and the diamond was huge. It must have cost a fortune. You looked over at Katsuki who had knelt to one knee and you couldn't help but smile. He was doing it, he was really doing it.

"[Y/N]. Every day with you is like waking up on Christmas. It's joyful, happy, and fuckin' fun. It's worth living. Do me the pleasure of marrying me."

"Oh my god, Katsuki... Yes, yes!"

You quickly slid the ring on your finger and examined it as Katsuki sat down on the couch next to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body.

"Told you I got the best gift... So what'd ya get me?"

Your throat went dry as you remembered your gift to Katsuki. He was going to kill you, as a matter of fact, you were going to kill Mina for having the idea in the first place. How could you give your boyfriend--fiance cole for Christmas, you couldn't, not when he just proposed with the biggest rock ever. You would look like such an ass.

"About that... I left your gift at home."

You scratched the back of your neck nervous as you tried to find the gift among the pile of gifts all your friends brought and placed under the tree making a mess of wrapped boxes.

"Don't be shy just cause' I got you something awesome. I know you grabbed it before we left the apartment, I saw you."

As Katsuki stood up to rummage through the gifts to find the one with his name scrawled out in your handwriting you panicked. He couldn't open that gift. At the same time, Mina walked in and spotted your ring. She could sniff these things out like a dog.

"Oh my God! Your hand! That rock! It's huge!"

"I know! It's Katsuki's Christmas gift to me, he proposed."

"I didn't know Katsuki could be so romantic! That's like the best gift ever. Oh! oh..."

You and Mina made eye contact with the same thought in mind. He could not open that gift or he was going to skin you both alive.

"Katsuki, just sit down. Wait your turn."

"No, I wanna see what you got me."

Without thinking you threw yourself onto Katsuki's back, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and chest region you made it hard for Katsuki to move. Mina was quick to jump into action and grabbed the gift but she froze as Katsuki tried shaking you off of him. He didn't know why you didn't want him to open the gift, but with Mina involved he desperately wanted to see what it was.

"Mina, do something!"

"I- I-"

Mina wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't just dispose of the gift, not especially after he saw it. Oh, but she could! Without a second thought, Mina threw the box on the floor and shot her acid on it.

You let go of Katsuki, thinking you were out of the woods but you thought wrong. You supposed you and Mina should have paid more attention to chemistry class in school, maybe then you'd know acid does not get rid of coal. It creates a chemical reaction, a chemical reaction that makes fire. Rapid, quick fire. It wasn't long before the fire spread over the house due to the carpeted floor. You and Mina felt embarrassed, red cheeks spread from your necks to your foreheads as Denki and Eijirou came rushing in and trying to put it out. It just kept spreading like lighter fluid. The damage was far too severe to put out so Katsuki just blew a hole in the wall creating an exit for you all.

"What the fuck was in that box."

You and Mina looked at your feet before she spoke up. Her voice came out quick, quick, and fast before she took off to her car.

"It was coal. Merry Christmas."

You never saw a car pull out of a driveway so fast, and you would've been amazed had you not been enraged over the utter betrayal.

"You got me fucking coal for Christmas?"

"Eijirou and I are just gonna leave... Uhm... We grabbed your keys, congrats on the engagement, and merry Christmas."

Eijirou and Denki were quick to get to their car and left. Cowardly traitors. They were all leaving you to deal with a ticking time bomb, couldn't they at least stay until the fire department arrived.

"My God Katsuki! Look at this ring, it's so pretty! Aren't you glad I'm your fiance? If you think about it, burning a house down is nothing when you think about how I said yes."

Despite the fact you got him coal, despite the fact you started a fire and he was mostly going to have to pay for all the damage, despite the fact you were both barefoot in the snow, Katsuki laughed. Maybe it was because it's Christmas, maybe it was because he was happy you said yes--he knew he'd never find another soul like you, someone who put up with him and all his shit.

"You're lucky you're my fiance... We can call the fire department from the car. Let's go, if I speed we can make it home on time to have dinner with my mom, we can tell her the news."

Katsuki laced your hand with his and brought it up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. He dropped your hand, turned around, and bent down slightly at the knees.

"C'mon, I'll carry you to the car."

You were quick to climb into your fiance's back for the second time that morning. With your face resting in Katsuki's neck and your arms tightly wrapped around his neck, you smiled.

"Hey, Katsuki?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you proposed. I don't wanna burn a house down on Christmas with anybody else but you."

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the-iceni-bitch · 4 years ago

Text

An Early Christmas Gift

Pairing: Surprise (male protag) x Female Reader

Word Count: 5130

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, it’s porn y’all, 18+, SPOILERY CONTENT WARNINGS BELOW THE CUT! PLEASE BE MINDFUL!

A/N: Well ladies, school is slow, I’m off work, and I’m horny, so I have decided to bless you all with my second fic, also a submission in the 2020 Happy Hoeliday’s challenge hosted by the absolutely lovely @stargazingfangirl18, @donutloverxo, and @navybrat817. I wanted to do something a little different with this one, where you don’t find out who your partner is until you get below the cut, like a fun little Christmas surprise. Due to the nature of this fic, there is some content that could be potentially upsetting that would also constitute potential spoilers, the the warnings for those are in the text itself. Please see further notes at the end of the fic and enjoy this little gift from me to you!

“Look honey, they’re perfect!” You exclaimed as you held up the tiny hat and booty set. “Gabi will love them!”

You hadn’t planned on doing any more Christmas shopping, but when your sister called as you were driving around the countryside surrounding Gruyeres to let you know she was pregnant, you knew you had to grab something from one of the adorable shops in the medieval Swiss town.

“Cadeau emballé s'il vous plaît.” You murmured to the shopkeeper as you handed over your payment, and within a few minutes you were walking out of the shop with a beautifully wrapped package, arm in arm with your partner. You were idly chatting about your plans for tomorrow (you’d have to be sure to get up early to ship your gift to Gabi) as you turned down an alleyway on the way back to your inn.

“Ah, fuck.” He murmured as you were halfway down the alley, and suddenly he had you pressed up against the wall with his mouth on yours. You dropped the bag containing your gift in surprise.

He pressed one palm against the small of your back to hold you flush against him while the other held his balance against the stone wall. One of his thighs moved in between your legs and started to edge your wool pencil skirt slowly upward. You got over the surprise quickly and brought your hands up to latch onto his hair as his tongue ran along your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.

~~~~~~~~WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE~~~~~~~~~~

You almost missed the stranger that came up behind him and pressed a gun to his head.

“Que faites-vous?” the man hissed at you. You noticed four more men, two at each end of the alley, starting to move closer and started to sob.

“Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?” You gasped through a steady stream of tears. Your partner’s hands were now raised in supplication as his jaw clenched in a look of frustration.

“Pourquoi me suivez-vous, eh?” The man had now turned his attention to you, since you were the only one saying anything.

“We, we weren’t…” You had now reverted to your native English as you started to sink down the wall, a blubbering mess.

The man stepped forward and trained his gun on you, shifting his balance as he moved.

You ducked under your partner’s arm as you loosened one of the knives sewn into your coat sleeve, caught the wrist of the hand holding the gun, and slashed down his brachial artery.

“Merde!” he shouted, stumbling backwards as blood rushed down his arm. You could hear the other men cursing under their breath as they started to rush you.

You flipped the blade you were holding into your palm, then flung it into the throat of the nearest assailant before shrugging out of your coat. August was already out of his and was pulling out the gun he had tucked into his waistband.

“They’re too close for that.” You told him as the last three closed in on you. Then you saw 2 more rushing into the alley and let out a sigh. “Damn.”

The newcomers started firing as you dove into a nook in the wall. August had his sights trained on them as he started to take his shots. The other three were on you in seconds.

You managed to dodge the first few punches as you drew two new knives from inside your boot. You caught a glancing blow to your ribs before kicking the culprit twice, once to the diaphragm, once to the face. You felt arms wrap around you from behind as you were lifted off the ground by the largest lackey. You started gasping as he began to squeeze the air out of your lungs.

You whipped your head back fast and felt a crunch as you connected with his nose. He dropped you to the ground with a hiss and you plunged a knife back and connected with flesh, earning yourself a momentary reprieve. You used the other knife to cut a slit up the thigh of your skirt to allow you to move more.

The gunfire had stopped at this point and you managed to catch a glimpse of August grappling with one of the gunmen before one of your assailants bowled into you. As he tried to flip you onto your back, you managed to take over the momentum and wrap your knee around his neck until you heard a snap.

You felt a sharp pain in your side as you straightened back up and were fairly sure you now had a broken rib. You turned to face your final attacker when you heard a choked off scream and a body flew into your field of vision, crashing into the man you were facing.

You turned to your left to see August pumping his fists as he strode after the man he had just thrown across the alleyway like a ragdoll. You squared up shoulder to shoulder as your two opponents did the same.

The final fight started with a crash. The two of you had vastly different fighting styles. You were all strategy, dodging most blows, planning your strikes for maximum damage. August was all brute force; he simply absorbed any body shots and knew that the size and force of his fists would cause damage no matter where they landed. The fight finally ended with your opponent with a knife through his eye, while August’s opponent’s head was almost ripped off with a broken neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END OF CONTENT WARNING~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Motherfucker,” you exclaimed, “they shot the baby gift!”

August was already dialing a sanitation team as you went over to inspect the damage. You may have been able to salvage it if someone hadn’t managed to bleed into the bullet hole in the packaging, soaking the beanie and booties.

Leaving the ruined present behind, you went to search the corpses for any useful information. You found one potentially salvageable cell phone (it was only covered in blood, not crushed) and nothing else.

“Shit”

“Sloane wants to talk to you,” August said, handing you his cell.

“Y/L/N, you wanna tell me what exactly the situation is there?”

“Did Walker not give you a run down?”

“His run downs tend to be minimal at best, this one was ‘lots of dead bodies in an alley, send a team.’”

You winced as you touched your ribs to assess the damage. “Yeah, that sounds like him. They made us and boxed us in. I have one cell I may be able to get something out of. Does rice work for absorbing blood or just water?”

You heard a snort over the line. “Take it back to your safe house and I’ll have an analyst pick it up tomorrow. Right now, you need to get out of there, we’re showing law enforcement heading to your location.”

“Alright. Hey, can you have that analyst pick up a replacement baby gift for me?” You asked as you held up a blood-soaked booty.

“Sure, they love when I give them errands.” You heard the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“We’re on our way back. I’m trashing our phones just in case.” You said as you walked through the alley, making sure to collect all the knives you had used and tucking them back into their designated sheathes.

“Good plan. The analyst will bring you replacements in the morning. Stay in your room at the inn and don’t leave under any circumstances.”

“You got it boss.” You placed the phone on a slightly raised cobblestone at an angle and brought your boot down on it hard, hearing it crack.

You did the same with the phone in your purse as August walked back over to you, carrying both of your coats.

“Hey Walker, what the fuck was that kiss?”

He winced at you. “I thought it would throw them off.”

“Uh-huh” you mumbled as you shrugged your coat back on. That may have explained why he kissed you, but definitely not the way he kissed you. “You’re bleeding”

“Yeah, one of them grazed me”

“Alright, I’ll stitch you up when we get back to the hotel. Put your coat over it for now”

He groaned when he stretched his arm through the sleeve of his coat, feeling the burning of the wound along his ribs now that his adrenaline was going down.

You hobbled back into your room at the inn after you managed to calm down the tiny innkeeper. You weren’t sure how you convinced her you had both just tripped as you were walking down a hill, but she seemed to buy it. She insisted on sending up a bundle of hot towels with you and a bucket of ice, which you thanked her for.

After locking the door behind you, you pulled out the first aid kit from under your bed and turned to your patient.

“I hope you’re not too attached to that sweater.”

“What?” August was slowly rolling his coat off his shoulders. He had rolled the sweater up around his elbows during the fight, exposing his well-muscled forearms.

“Even if I could get the blood out of it, I’m going to need to cut it off you.” You told him over your shoulder as you scrubbed your hands. “I don’t want to drag it over the wound and cause any more damage.”

“Alright.”

You drew the scissors out of the kit and held the sweater away from his torso as you began cutting up towards his neckline. He winced when the edge of your hand barely skimmed the wound.

“This sweater is ridiculously tight Walker; I’m doing my best.”

“You’re fine just get it over with.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I haven’t even started cleaning it and you’re already complaining. Do you want me to knock you out for a couple of stitches?”

“Do you have a sedative in that kit?”

“The kit is the sedative. One good ram against your skull should have you down for the count.”

He started laughing in spite of himself before groaning at the pain.

“If you don’t hold still, I really will knock you out.” You scolded him, pouring an iodine solution over the wound.

“Fuck, Y/L/N! Ah, that stings.”

“Here, bite down on this.” You folded up a towel and handed it to him. He shoved it in his mouth and clamped down as you ran a flame over the needle you would be using. He let out a grunt around it when you first inserted the needle but managed to settle in as you got to work.

Less than a minute later, you finished your beautiful blanket stitch and were about to start wrapping his torso when he stayed your hand.

“Leave it.”

“Suit yourself.” You said, standing up. You winced suddenly as you had forgotten about your own injury and it was now screaming at you. “Shit.” You hissed. “Help me out of my coat?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Pretty sure I have at least one broken rib.”

He stood up and helped you shrug out of your heavy coat. “Jesus, how many knives are in here?”

“Six?” you said as you did a mental tally. “No, seven. Two in each sleeve, two in the waist, one in between the shoulders.” You went to the bathroom mirror and untucked your blouse from your skirt, pulling up the edge to get a good look at your bruised torso.

“You really need to carry seven knives with you?”

“No. Those are just the ones sewn into the coat.” You put your shirt back down. “Good news, pretty sure I just have a bruised diaphragm. Hurts like a bitch but not a whole lot you can do about it.”

You turned around to head back to the bedroom when you bumped into August’s bare chest.

“Where do you keep the other knives?”

He was looking at you with what you had originally assumed were adrenaline blown eyes, but now recognized as the dilated pupils of lust. His blood must have still been up from the fight.

With your boots still on you were almost as tall as him, but he was a solid wall of muscle in front of you and while you could move him if you needed to, that wouldn’t be good for either of your injuries.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, looking him dead in the eye as you shifted your stance, ready to fight if you had to, but you thought you would have a better chance if you ran.

He let out a sigh and stepped back on his heels, allowing you to relax a bit.

“I think I misread this situation.”

“How exactly?”

“Listen,” he said, “there’s nothing like a good fuck after a fight and we’ve been partnered for almost six months now. I know we’re normally able to take care of ourselves but since we’re stuck in this room together with just the one bed, it would probably be less awkward if we just…”

“’You know we’re normally able to take care of ourselves?’ Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re not very quiet.” He said bluntly, which you honestly couldn’t deny so you just started laughing.

“No, that’s definitely true” You said. Standing there, looking at him leaning up against the wall with his naked torso that looked like it had been chiseled by Da Vinci after a particularly exquisite wet dream, you couldn’t even deny that often, the thought of him between your legs was enough to push over the edge in your post-fight sessions.

“Alright then let’s set some ground rules. Hard limits for me are going to be anything related to urine or feces. No real soft limits but if you want to do breath play you better know what you’re doing. My safe word is ‘balsam’. What about you?”

He was looking at you with his face in a state of total shock. “Umm, what?”

“What are your limits Walker? What won’t you do? What are you willing to do but aren’t crazy about?”

“No, no, I know what limits are. Same as yours, I guess my safe word can be ‘spruce’?” he almost made the second sentence a question. “You’re fine with this?”

“Should I not be fine with this? We’re both professionals, this is strictly so we’re able to sleep after…”

You didn’t have time to finish your thought as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around him. He pulled your head down to his and parted your lips with his tongue. You greeted it with yours as he lay you down on the bed and ripped your skirt the rest of the way off from the slit you made in it earlier, revealing a custom garter belt that held four more knives on each thigh. At the sight of that he laughed.

“Is that all of them?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him through your lashes. “Why don’t you get the rest of this off and find out?” You said, holding up one booted calf and rubbing it against his shoulder.

He growled at you as he ripped the boot off and ran his teeth against the arch of your foot, causing a quiver to run up your leg and ripple through your core. He removed the other boot next and pulled you down until you were straddling him, then he tore through the buttons on your blouse and yanked you up to roll it down your shoulders. Then he took a step back to take a good look at you.

“Sevent… seventeen knives, really?” He said, looking you over.

Aside from the eight knives around your thighs, you had two around each of your calves, four tucked into the waist portion of your special garter belt, and one between your breasts.

“Twenty-four total, along with the coat.” You grinned up at him. “This custom set cost me a pretty penny, so no tearing it off me like an animal.” You said, glancing over at your ruined skirt and blouse.

“I think I’ll let you remove all of that, for my own safety.”

You threw your head back and laughed, then stood up and started to unstrap yourself.

You started with your left leg, removing the small sheath belt on your calf, and placing it on your trunk, then removing the four knives from the thigh before unbuckling it. Then you moved onto your right leg, fully unstrapping everything there before undoing your garter belt completely at the waist. Finally, you undid your very special bra and placed that on top of the impressive pile, turning back to Walker in only your panties and stockings.

He was looking at you with a lust blown gaze and his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. You could see the outline of a very impressive hard on through his tight slacks and felt yourself clench around nothing as a rush of arousal soaked your panties.

“Fuck, Y/N. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you strode over, pulling him down for a quick kiss before sinking to your knees. “Low bar there bud, we’ll see if we can improve on that before the night’s out.” You said as you started to undo his belt.

“Um, starting already?”

You gave the outline of his cock a soft nip through his slacks and his hips twitch involuntarily as he took in a sharp intake of breath.

“I mean, I can draw this out if you really want, but I’m pretty sure we’re past the foreplay stage at this point.” You say, pulling down his slacks and boxer briefs to free his extremely impressive cock. It almost slaps you in the face as it bounces back up towards his abdomen. You make eye contact with him as you slowly drag your tongue along the base from root to tip.

“Shit, yeah, you’re right.” He lets out in a quick breath, tilting his head back and screwing his eyes shut.

You give him a wicked grin as you continue staring up through your lashes. Your tongue flicks around the tip a few times, lapping up the trickle of pre-cum that is forming before you slowly take the head of his cock in your mouth, humming around it as you do.

“Jesus, fuck.” He cries as his knees buckle and he lands on the bed with a huff. You slide forward on your knees to follow him and dip your hand between your legs to coat it in your own arousal, before gripping his length and sucking on first one velvety sack, then the other.

His breathing is becoming irregular as he stares at you through hooded eyes. You take his cock in your mouth again and he wraps your hair around his fist as you start to slowly move your head up and down, taking him in a little deeper each time. You feel his tip hit the back of your throat and start to breathe through your nose as you swallow around his cock.

“Shit,” he exclaims as he falls back and places a second hand on the back of your head as he starts to fuck his hips up into your mouth. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.”

His hips stutter as he tries to pull out, but you get your own hands under his hips to hold him in place. He lets out a low groan and you feel his release running hot snakes down your throat. You continue swallowing around his softening dick until your sure he has nothing left to give you, then you release him with a pop and wipe the drool from your chin.

You slowly kiss and lick your way up his torso, dipping your tongue into the ripples between his muscles and making low, humming noises as you do. His ragged breathing has started to even out as you reach his neck, running your teeth along his pulse point and nipping at his jaw before you place your mouth over his and flick your tongue along his bottom lip.

“Good for you, baby?” You ask against his lips, feeling the scratch of his stubble and moustache against your soft skin as you gently pull on his lips with your teeth.

You feel him grin against your mouth as answer before his tongue meets yours.

“Fucking great, your turn now.”

You only have a second to prepare as he wraps his hands around the outside of your thighs and yanks you up the bed with a yelp until your straddling his face. He buries his face against your silk covered mound and gives a sharp inhale before he starts kissing and softly biting at the skin of your inner thighs, his facial hair scratching at the sensitive skin.

“Take these things off.” He says, pulling at your panties with his teeth before letting them snap back into place as you let out a strangled gasp.

You somehow manage to remove them from the awkward position you’re in and as soon as they’re gone, August drags his tongue along your slit at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your brain short circuits and you have to brace both your hands against the headboard so you don’t collapse onto his face. He moves a hand up to palm your breast, working your pebbled nipple in between his fingers as his tongue circles your clit.

“God, honey, you taste amazing.” He murmured against you before shoving his tongue inside your cunt and making you scream. “You gonna cum all over my…”

You cut him off by grinding your pussy into his face. “Stop talking.” You hiss at him. You can feel your orgasm building and want relief as soon as possible.

You feel his smile against you as he starts fucking you with his mouth in earnest, wrapping his arms around your thighs before he starts sucking on your clit.

The sight of those forearms around your legs combined with the soft hums and moans he’s making against your skin send you teetering over the edge. You feel yourself clench around his tongue and let out a cry, your body tightening and releasing as wave after wave of pleasure wrack you.

When you had finally finished, August slowly rolled you over and softly kissed down your leg as he lowered you onto the pillows. You groaned and arched your back when he stopped, hating the loss of sensation. Your heart was still beating like crazy as you propped yourself up on your elbows to gaze at him.

His hair was damp with sweat as it tumbled into his eyes in loose curls. He raked his fingers back through it to push it out of his face, and you saw that his moustache and stubble were soaked with your slick as he licked his lips and stared at you. You let out a low moan and bit your lip as you felt desire pool at your core once more. You pulled his face down to yours and started cleaning the evidence of your orgasm from his facial hair with your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt him harden against you as he began rocking his hips, sliding his cock against your swollen clit and you let out a small whine.

“Ready again so soon sweetheart?” He murmured into your ear, nuzzling himself in the small hollow behind the hinge of your jaw. He slips one hand underneath you and presses you into him further, coating his cock in your arousal.

“Fuck.” You hiss. “Jesus, get inside me now.”

“Condom?”

“I’m on the pill.”

He smiles against your neck as his hips still and he lines himself up at your entrance. You let out a strangled cry as he slams into you, bottoming out immediately.

“Fuck, you’re so tight honey.” He growls into your neck as he stops moving completely.

After a few beats of stillness, you speak up.

“August, I kind of need you to move.”

“Yeah, just give me a second.” You feel his face screwed up against your neck as he holds you there. He’s trying not to come like a teenager two pumps into their first warm cunt. He pulls out of you halfway before slowly pushing back in, and your hands scramble on his back, begging him to pick up the pace as you flutter around him. He finally starts fucking into you at a steady rhythm as you take in a sharp breath.

As he starts to pick up the pace, he takes your left leg from around his waist and moves it so your ankle is propped on his shoulder. He places small bites along your ankle as he presses his thumb into the arch of your foot, causing you to clench around him and gasp, screwing your eyes closed as he edges you closer and closer. You feel his grin against your calf as his hand moves to your upper back and he pulls you up to mouth at your breast, rolling your hardened nipple between his tongue and teeth.

“August!” you let out a scream at the new position. The change in angles has him hitting your sweet spot over and over, and now he is slamming into you fast. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s right baby, scream for me.” He pulls you up flush against him and you wrap your arms around his neck so he can stabilize himself against the wall. The hand he isn’t using for balance slides in between you, using two fingers to work your clit as he fucks you harder and harder while kissing you deeply. The bed frame sounds like it’s about to fall apart as he fucks you into the headboard.

You cry into his mouth as the tension in your core snaps and you fly apart around him. Your cunt clenches and flutters as you feel yourself turn to jelly, sinking back onto the pillows as he continues to fuck into you at a punishing speed, a hand on each of your hips as he pulls you onto him over and over.

You feel yourself building again quickly as his cock starts to twitch inside you and your velvety walls constrict around him again. You don’t know if you can handle another orgasm at this point.

He looks down at you as his pace becomes irregular and gives you a wicked grin. “C’mon baby, give me one more.”

You let out a low moan as he presses a thumb to your overworked clit and you spasm up off the bed as your pleasure is released. You feel all the muscles in your core tremble from the strain, and your previously forgotten rib injury makes itself known.

August isn’t far behind you and you feel his hips stutter as his release coats your walls and he hisses your name through clenched teeth before collapsing on top of you and burying his face in your neck. You feel him starting to soften as he slides out of you and he rolls to the side breathing heavily. You lay next to each other for a few moments, waiting for your heart rates to slow down and breathing to regulate before you even try to move or talk. It’s been a while since either of you have been so thoroughly fucked, and you didn’t realize how much you needed it until this moment. You finally come down from your post-fuck high, and groan as you sit up and try to head to the bathroom, knees almost giving out once you stand up. Walker starts laughing behind you and you turn to throw a pillow at his head, which he catches in mid-air. Once your sea legs are back, you make your way to the bathroom for a post-fuck piss. You hear a muttered “Shit” from the bedroom, and the rattle of jostled furniture, and start cackling as you start to run the shower.

“God a shower will be great.” Walker says as he stumbles into view, still pretty obviously fuck-drunk.

“It’s a whore’s bath for you. I can’t believe your stitches stayed in place during all of that, there’s no way I’m letting you ruin them now.”

“You’re so fucking bossy, I oughta…”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought as there is a sudden pounding on the door. You both snap into alert stances as you toss a robe at him and wrap one around yourself quickly. He grabs his gun and takes up a stance behind the door, then gives you a nod once he’s ready, jaw clenched in preparation. You swing the door open to find Mdm. Eberle, the 80-year-old innkeeper, standing there with her even more ancient husband, holding what you can only assume was a previously decorative rifle from the 1700s that they had hauled down from above the fireplace.

“Madame Trellier,” she whimpers at you. “The room below you heard screaming and horrible noises and we… oh.” She trails off once she gets a good look at you.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror before you answered the door, and there was really no other way to describe your appearance than well fucked. Your hair was bunched up and mussed, your mascara was running, and there were love bites running down your neck and on to your chest. Not that the state of the room was any better. Your discarded clothes were still in plain view, and you now noticed a small crack running up the wall behind the headboard that definitely wasn’t there before.

Mssr. Eberle’s look abruptly change from a scowl to childish glee as he gave you a toothless grin while Mdm. Eberle covered her mouth with one hand as a flush crept up to her face.

You started to apologize profusely when Walker chose this moment to stride out from behind the door with a cocky grin on his face, wrap his hand around your waist, and give you a kiss on the neck before heading into the bathroom.

Poor Mdm. Eberle started spluttering while her husband started cackling, assuring you that there was no need to apologize as she started scurrying away. Mssr. Eberle gave you a lecherous wink before following her, and you closed the door behind them with a sigh.

“Stay out of that shower!” You scolded Walker as you headed into the bathroom, ready to get back to the States already so you could debrief and maybe actually be home for the holidays. You didn’t even notice the cellphone you had collected from your attackers was now on the bedside table, laying on top of an electromagnet.

END

More A/N: Y’all, I had way too much fun with this one. I actually enjoyed writing the non-smut portion as much as the sweet, smutty goodness. I also think I maybe have a bad boy kink? Who knows, we’ll explore further.

Happy Hoelidays!

#happyhoelidays2020 #smut #reader insert #christmas gifts #fanfic #fanfiction

155 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 4 years ago

Text

autumn leaves | l.i.b. finale

→ summary: and in the end, we fall because we have no other choice. some get up easier than others, and we bury the ones who never do.

→ pairing: ??? x reader → genre: angst, humor, fluff, lib!au → warnings: tae gets hurt a little but its an accident (he’s fine dw), small blood mention (from aforementioned accident), rage moments (rip lol), heartbreak (yum!), a happy ending (?) → words: 7.7K → a/n: oh my god we’re at the end?? after two months of SUFFERING?? how can this be happening?? lol but seriously thank you to everyone for going on this journey with me. writing lib was honestly so much fun, and it’s been a while since i’ve been able to kinda go “all-out” or whatever. i’m kind of nervous with this ending, but hopefully it’s something everyone will be able to enjoy. peace!!

prev // part 38 of 38 masterlist here. [series completed]

October 1, 2020 — 6:18 PM

Min Yoongi’s phone feels like it's burning a hole into his back pocket. It’s a heavy presence, weighing like concrete enough to bend his spine. His hands itch to reach for it, to check for messages he knows he won’t receive. But in the back of his mind, he thinks—desperately and senselessly, that if he wishes hard enough, then maybe it’ll come true.

I should be glad that she isn’t calling me, he tries to convince himself. The itch continues to grow, licking at the back of his mind like a fire begging to be extinguished. I should trust her decision. I should be proud of her. But there’s always been a difference, after all, to what Yoongi should do and what he wants. It’s a difference that he has fought to ignore for years now.

“Hyung,” a soft voice calls out to him, a hand placed gently on his shoulder. Yoongi blinks slowly out of his trance, his eyes dry from staring out his car window for too long. He doesn’t turn in his seat, refusing to face his companion in the backseat. “Hyung,” the voice calls out again, this time shaking him vigorously enough that Yoongi has no other choice but to turn lest his shoulders get dislocated.

“What do you want, Jimin?” Yoongi growls, sneering at the boy. Jimin smiles sheepishly, but he doesn’t back down under his glare.

“Sorry. You were gripping the wheel so tightly that I was scared you were going to break it.” Jimin shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s an edge to his tone, betraying his worry. Yoongi releases the wheel at once, switching to picking at the rips in his jeans instead.

“Didn’t notice. Sorry for snapping at you, I was just…” Yoongi trails off, expression glazing over once more. What was he trying? What was he doing here?

Jimin’s pupils flit all over Yoongi’s face, searching for something. “We’re not going to bring her home anymore?” he asks, but there’s a note of finality there. He knows that they aren’t going home with them tonight, at least not right now. They’ve been parked a block away from Namjoon’s childhood home for a few hours now, sitting in Yoongi’s car and waiting to see if you needed them to help you escape. Jimin has been watching Yoongi all the while, keeping track of the small changes in his friend’s expression.

They are hard to pinpoint sometimes, but Jimin sees them all. He sees the way Yoongi’s brow furrows slightly, sees the way his teeth nibble on his lips in worry, sees the way his head jerks every time he hears a sound, thinking that it might be his phone about to ring. Yoongi is like a pot about to boil over, hardly keeping everything together.

To many people, Yoongi often appears to be as unmoving as a rock. He hardly allows his emotions to control him, and he has always been proud to call himself a level-headed person. And for the most part, Jimin agrees with that. Yoongi is and always will be someone who thrives in times of turmoil, someone who relies on his wit to get him through adversity. He seldom gets angry, rarely raises his voice, never acts cruelly. He’s the person that everyone in their friend group often comes to for advice and support, as he’s always the one who seems to have the right thing to say.

But all those things begin to crumble, however, when it comes to you.

Yoongi is still human, too. He bends, he breaks, he yields—and he does so, especially for you.

“No, we’re not bringing her home,” Yoongi replies. The admission is there, hidden in plain sight. His words are laced with defeat, but it is a defeat that has been accepted long ago. Long before his text conversation with you.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Jimin asks, not unkindly. Even still, Yoongi winces. Jimin’s real question is there, hidden in plain sight as well. What are you waiting for?

Yoongi sighs, resting his forehead against the wheel. He hears Jimin shift in his seat, feels his presence get closer as he leans forward to place a comforting hand on his back. “Nothing,” he says. He breathes deeply through his nose and counts to three. Releases it. “We are waiting for nothing.”

Jimin hums and says nothing more. They sit there in silence for a bit longer, watching the sun’s final moments in the sky before the moon takes its place. The street lamps turn on, bathing the streets in its dusty yellow luminescence. Under the lights, Yoongi’s skin looks tired and worn, like a paper that has been crumpled and smoothed over multiple times.

“I wonder if they’ve finished speaking by now,” Yoongi says suddenly. He still hasn’t moved from his position, his face hidden from view. It almost looks like he hadn’t spoken at all, but Jimin had heard him. He looks at Yoongi in surprise but keeps his silence. Jimin can feel the beginnings of something about to break, and he is afraid that if he makes a sound, it might stop. Even stones break in the end.

“I doubt it. They have a lot of shit to talk about. Too much, in fact.” Yoongi sounds exhausted, his words slurring together like he’s falling asleep. But he’s never been more wide awake. “I’d have a lot to say if I were them. But I’m not them, nor will I ever be.”

Yoongi tilts his head high enough that he can rest his chin on the wheel instead. He stares blankly at the quiet street, listens intently to the sound of the wind beating gently against his car. Parked out there, in the middle of a small neighborhood in Ilsan, far away from the bustling streets of the city, he can almost trick himself into thinking that he’s the only person in the world—

“You love her.”

—but he isn’t alone.

Jimin says it without a shade of doubt. He says it like it's a simple truth of life, like there is no other possible way Yoongi could feel otherwise. The sky is blue. The earth is round. Min Yoongi is in love with you.

“Yes,” Yoongi breathes it out, the confession tumbling through his lips with quiet ease. It does not struggle; it does not resist. It just is. “I’ve loved her before I even knew it myself, I think.”

“I never thought you’d be the type to fall in love at first sight,” Jimin says it lightly, teasingly. There’s a shrivel of truth to it though, but Yoongi will deny it to his dying day; it’ll hurt less if he does.

“I think it started a year ago. When I was preparing for my junior year exhibition.” Yoongi remembers the long nights working until his hands bled, the recurring nightmares eating at his mind, the fear climbing his spine like a tightrope pulled taut. It’s one of the only times when he had bitten more than he could chew, piling impossible expectations onto himself. In those long three weeks of constant anxiety nipping at his heels, he had almost forgotten what it was like to be human. That is, until…

“She saved me. She taught me to slow down, to be compassionate to myself. She didn’t judge me or scold me or hurt me. She just… cared.” Yoongi exhales, clenching his eyes shut. He can see it in his head: your soft hands carding through his hair, whispering assurances and praise into his ears, guiding him to his bed and staying with him until he’d fallen asleep soundly for the first time in days. “Slowly but surely, I started to fall for her. There was just no other way. My heart refused to have it any other way,” he says.

Jimin hums. “I’d always guessed, but I never thought it was that early. You do have an awful habit of staring, hyung. Sometimes I feel like you have to remind yourself to blink.”

Yoongi laughs, hollow sounding. “I suppose I do.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything about it then?”

Jimin’s question is expected. It should be an easy one to answer, but Yoongi doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s easy to say that he knew Jungkook and you already loved each other long before he realized his feelings, and Yoongi was the last person on earth who would do anything to hurt either of you to fulfill his desires. It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth.

So instead, Yoongi responds, “It’s because I’m a hypocrite.” When he doesn’t elaborate, he sees Jimin give him a confused look from the rearview mirror.

Yoongi chuckles sardonically, shaking his head. His mouth feels like acid, as if bile had risen up his throat. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, but it would hurt more later if he didn’t suck the poison out right here and now. “Nevermind about that. The point is, I lost my chance and I don’t regret it. Yeah, it fucking hurts like a bitch, but what am I going to do? Cry about it? We’ve all known since the beginning that if anyone is going to get a happy ending, it’s certainly not going to be me.”

“Don’t say that,” Jimin says, frowning slightly. He had spoken so sternly that it impelled Yoongi to straighten up in his seat and turn to stare at him. It’s quite unlike Jimin to be anything but friendly and kind, so seeing him so severe is disconcerting. Though, it did manage to shut Yoongi up immediately.

“This is not the end of the world. You are not going to end up unloved or forgotten. There are people who love you, people who will love you. Don’t you remember? Those were the same words you told me when I got my heart broken the first time,” Jimin says, his voice trembling ever so slightly. Yoongi’s gaze flies to Jimin’s fists, clenched tightly by his sides.

Of course, Yoongi remembers. It’s hard to forget the sight of Park Jimin sobbing relentlessly into his shoulder, fat tears falling like raindrops and down his flushed cheeks. He remembers saying the same words to you, too. He wonders, not for the first time, if his words are as ineffective to you as they are to him right now.

“I know,” Yoongi says. He switches the engine on and watches his dashboard light up. The radio turns on, the last notes of a ballad playing through the speakers. Yoongi puts his hand on the wheel, carefully not to grip too tightly this time. It’s a start, he thinks.

They go home, leaving without looking back.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 9:20 PM

Kim Taehyung locks his bedroom door the moment he gets home, after casting a furtive glance at the closed door across from his. He does not know what he expects; the door across from him has been closed for almost a week now. The entire apartment is still, but he is not alone. The ghost who lives in the other bedroom still haunts him, in more ways than one.

He drops his bag to the floor, still cradling a small bouquet of camellias that was slightly crushed when he had bumped into someone in the elevator. He unpeels the plastic wrapping, gently placing them into the vase near his windowsill. He fingers the vibrant pink petals, but they don’t brighten his room the way they once did. It still feels dark, but he has a sinking suspicion that he had nothing to do with his lights.

It’s me. I’ve changed.

He shakes his head, banishing the thought. No, it’s okay. Everything is fine. You’ve done nothing wrong. And yet, the door across the hall begs to differ.

Typically, this shouldn’t be a problem for him. When everything is said and done, Taehyung is used to this happening. The closed doors, the unopened texts, the cold shoulders. It’s all a process that Taehyung has lived through for years.

Guilt: an emotion that Taehyung has become accustomed to. Abandonment: an action that Taehyung has learned to anticipate. Isolation: a lifestyle that Taehyung has mastered. Every relationship with Kim Taehyung will always lead to these three things, so it shouldn’t be affecting him the way that it is.

But over the last three years, he’d grown comfortable. The people around him had convinced him unknowingly, planting seeds of hope and optimism in a garden he had thought to be infertile. For once in his life, Taehyung had found a home in these people, and he’d do anything in his power to keep it safe.

Or at least, he thought he did.

His original intentions had been guileless; he wanted to help Jungkook because he was his friend. Jungkook had been his first friend in university—if he wanted to be honest, then Taehyung would even say that Jungkook was his first friend in his entire life. The boy was kind-hearted and supportive, wrapped perfectly with a goofy personality. Of course, Taehyung wasn’t blind to Jungkook’s faults, but he was sure that Jungkook didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He had decided back then that he could trust this one, and once he had allowed Jungkook into his life, the rest followed suit.

It was easy to empathize with Jungkook because he was just so… awkward. It was like watching a newborn fawn learning to walk for the first time, except Jungkook had long since outgrown his baby status and should have been independent long ago. Taehyung and everyone knew this about him, but they still gave him the benefit of the doubt. They mentored him, guided him, manipulated him in the wrong ways in hopes of hastening him to change. That was until…

Everything fell apart. Taehyung understood long before the fall that he had played a considerable part in Jungkook’s ruin. His negligence, his willful involvement in worsening the situation had exacerbated everything. He had ignored the signs, had barrelled through with his plans without another thought, all because he allowed himself to be blind to what he truly wanted out of this mess.

If he genuinely wanted to be a friend to Jungkook, he would’ve stopped interfering way before you had gone to Ilsan that one fateful weekend in August. He’d been aware he was doing more harm than good to everyone around him, including himself.

No, he stopped wanting to help Jungkook a long time ago. It had turned into his own personal agenda.

“Fuck!” Taehyung screams into the night sky, slamming his hands against the wall. He grabs the nearby vase, smashing it against the floor and scattering water, petals, and glass across the floor. The impact causes a few shards to imbed themselves into his shin, but he does not mind them, for he does not feel them.

He breathes heavily, gritting his teeth in unspeakable rage. He’s angry, so furious. This red hot searing rage builds up in his body until he starts to feel dizzy, his vision blurred with tinges of black. Why is he mad? Who is he mad at?

Is he mad at Jungkook? Yes, but that isn’t new. He’s been angry at Jungkook for a while now. It frustrates him to no end how lucky Jungkook is without even knowing. How easily love comes to him, how pain and misfortune had never been in his vocabulary until just recently. Jungkook had you, Yoongi, and Jimin for longer than he has. Jungkook has been swaddled in affection since the start but has always been too stupid to see. If he had just stopped being so cowardly, he could have easily gotten the person he loves without anyone’s help.

If he just learned to ask, if he just learned to stop fucking locking his goddamn door—

Just like Taehyung.

They are two sides of the same coin, and it scares him.

This raw, unadulterated rage is not about Jungkook, but himself. It was always about him.

He lets out one last defiant shout at the frigid sky before dropping to his bed in defeat. The fury subsides as quickly as it comes, but it only leaves a desolate landscape inside of him.

He does not know for how long he lies there. When he stands, he leaves bloody footprints in his wake. “Appropriate,” he mutters to himself. He limps over to his door, hobbling to the adjacent bathroom to retrieve a first-aid kit. When he opens the door, Taehyung does not notice the small white box placed in front of his doorway. He nearly trips over it, saving himself by latching onto the wooden frame. He glances down, picking up the box gingerly when he sees a small sticky note tacked on top of it.

If you need help, just knock.

Taehyung looks across the hall. The door is still closed, but the person behind it is not.

His grip on the first-aid kit tightens. The first step is always the hardest.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 1:03 PM

When you had run the moment you spotted Jungkook, Jung Hoseok had chosen to stay behind. He had pushed Jungkook to go after you, had yelled at him when Jungkook had hesitated for that one split second.

“Go!” he shouted, jolting Jungkook to his senses. He sprinted off, but not before giving Hoseok one last look back. Hoseok put on his bravest smile at him, throwing a thumbs up. “Don’t give up yet!”

Even now, ten minutes later, his throat still feels scratchy from how loud he had been.

He sits by the curb where he had parked his parents’ car. Namjoon sits beside him, a few inches apart. The autumn wind sends chills down his back, the afternoon sun doing its best to keep him warm. Though, he reckons that half the cold is because of the weather.

Hoseok clears his throat at the same moment Namjoon does. They share a glance, the beginnings of a smile playing on their lips. They look back to the ground, avoiding each other once more. Hoseok taps indiscernible beats with his feet while Namjoon draws shapes in the air with his fingers.

Hoseok tries again. “Umm. Namjoon,” he mumbles tentatively. He doesn’t know where to start.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, you know. I’ve known you since before you even learned how to walk.” Namjoon beats him to it, like always. “I can guess what you want to say.”

Hoseok hazards a glance at him. His friend is tanner than he remembers, the summer months having done well on his skin. He almost giggles when he notices the line where the edge of his shirt sleeve meets his bicep, the stark contrast of color evident whenever Namjoon moves his arm. It has been a while since he has seen Namjoon with a tan line, as Hoseok was usually there to remind him to put sunscreen on before leaving the house.

Usually.

Hoseok sobers up, the momentary amusement evaporating just like that. How is it that in only one month, so many things have changed between them?

“What do you think I want to say?” Hoseok responds. He tries to keep his voice level and cool, but he knows that Namjoon notices the small ways in which he falters. Namjoon knows how he rubs his neck when he’s nervous, how his ears get red when he’s embarrassed. He memorizes the exact time it takes for Hoseok’s mouth to downturn, forming into his signature pout.

He knows all these things and more. And yet, how could Namjoon possibly know the traitorous things that he has done?

“I think… you got sidetracked,” Namjoon says slowly, carefully. When Hoseok glances at him again, he finds that Namjoon is looking back. He has a contemplative expression on his face, his jaw clenched in the same way that it does when he’s solving a tough problem. “I think you wanted to help me get together with her, didn’t you? At least, in the beginning.”

“I still do,” Hoseok admits, breaking his gaze once more. He stares up ahead, where the park is bustling with children and their families. He watches a small boy swinging on a swing set, while another boy pushes him higher and higher. “Do you remember?”

“Remember what?”

“When you texted me while you were freaking out over how you were falling in love with her?”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Of course. How could I forget? I’m still freaking out about it now.”

“I was just… worried about you, you know? I’m always worried about you,” Hoseok says. The boy on the swing set is still going, but one extra strong push from his friend causes him to tumble, landing face-first into the ground. The nearby adults begin to panic, but the boy rises unsteadily, dirt caked onto his scratched up face. But when he faces his friend, he’s smiling and laughing like he has just won the lottery.

“Not an unfounded concern,” Namjoon chuckles, causing Hoseok to put on a small smile. His laughter dies as quickly as it comes. “Was that the time you decided to help me?”

“I’ve wanted to help you since the beginning, but that was the first time I actually did something about it.” Hoseok’s heart is beating a mile a minute, his palms sweaty despite the chilly weather. “I only wanted to find out if Jungkook really liked her or not. I wanted to know if you had a chance before you fell any deeper because I didn't want you to get hurt.”

When Namjoon doesn’t say anything, Hoseok continues. “Even when he admitted that he did love her, I could sense that there was a huge chance things weren’t going to work between them as long as if some things were just… pushed in the right direction.” His voice grows smaller the more and more he speaks, the guilt feeling heavy against his windpipe. But Hoseok is determined to tell him, no matter what happens. It’s the least that Namjoon deserves.

“I suppose, in this case, it would be the wrong direction,” Namjoon hums, but he doesn’t appear angry or upset. Not yet, at least. From the corner of Hoseok’s eye, he sees him nod for him to go on.

“Yeah. I could tell he was insecure, and that insecurity was prone to growing into jealousy,” Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots just to give his hands something to do other than to quiver. “I noticed that he shuts down whenever he’s cornered, so that’s what I did. I kept pushing him, forcing him to admit his wrongdoings but never berating him for them. So, in turn, he began relying on me for comfort instead of his friends.”

He keeps going, “I didn’t feel bad for it at first. I kept telling myself, ‘It’s all for Namjoon in the long run.’ But it didn’t take long for me to realize that I couldn’t keep helping you without hurting Jungkook in the process. I was manipulating this poor boy, and I didn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Hoseok waits for Namjoon to react. He can’t bear to look at him, far too ashamed even to consider turning. He’s sure he’ll find disgust in his kind friend’s eyes, and he isn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from running if he saw it. But Namjoon refuses to speak, probably not until Hoseok finishes his piece.

“Jungkook didn’t deserve what I did to him. All the things he did is nothing in comparison to the punishment I inflicted on him, especially when it was never my place to do so. I fed the monster inside of him when he was nothing but a boy who was just scared. Then, just when he still had a shot at redemption, when she was still willing to listen to him, it was also me who ruined everything. I told her about all the bad things he had done. I told her about—”

“The thing about Jungkook paying to spread that rumor,” Namjoon speaks so suddenly that Hoseok nearly chokes in surprise. He had been so quiet that he scarcely even seemed to breathe. “You told her about it, didn’t you?”

“I… Yes, I did. She told you about it?”

“Yeah. She never informed me who told her, but I suppose it makes sense. But there was something else you said, wasn’t there? Something even she wouldn’t tell me.”

Hoseok nods his head sadly. “Yes. I think she was probably more hurt to find out that Jungkook had been ignoring her in favor of hanging out with me. Indirectly, I fed into her jealousy, but instead of comforting her, I intensified her guilt.”

Beside him, Namjoon releases a shaky breath. “You brought me up.”

“Yes.” There’s no use denying it; after all, Hoseok has always been a terrible liar.

“Did you tell her..?” The question hangs heavily in the air, but Namjoon doesn’t have to finish it for Hoseok to understand.

“No, I didn’t tell her you love her. I just mentioned how she was hurting you by loving Jungkook. That’s all. I don’t think she even had the chance to understand what I meant.”

There’s a moment of silence. The two boys sit side by side, looking to all the world like friends just enjoying an autumn afternoon together. The sounds of children singing, of parents chatting, of lovers laughing try their best to fill the space, but the gap is already too big to mend. At least, not immediately.

“Okay.”

Hoseok startles once more, this time managing to gather enough courage to take a peek at Namjoon. He keeps his eyes low, staring at the mole on his chin. “Okay?” he repeats.

Namjoon shrugs half-heartedly. “It’s done. All we can do now is wait, I guess.”

“But… you’re not..?”

“Mad at you? No, I’m not. Am I hurt? Incredibly so.” Namjoon swallows thickly, his chin wobbling as he finds the strength to keep his tears at bay. “But I can tell you found your way back to the light, and I’m more relieved that you realized your mistake more than anything. I forgive you, but just know that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

“That’s already more than I deserve, Joon,” he says shakily. He feels a hand snake around his own, and he looks down to find their fingers laced together. On Namjoon’s wrist, the bracelet he had made for him in the 7th grade is frayed and mangled, but still ever-present. “But… what now? If they truly end up fixing everything, will you be okay with it? If Jungkook is still fighting for her… why aren’t you?”

“Same goes for you, I suppose,” Namjoon says simply. He doesn’t explain what he means by that, but Hoseok is honestly too afraid to ask. He’s always felt like Namjoon knew a little bit too much about things that he shouldn’t. He smiles, but there is a tinge of melancholy there.

Just out of reach, the way Namjoon has always seemed to be.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 5:12 PM

At first, Jeon Jungkook is surprised to find the park more empty than when he was here a few hours ago. He supposes it is only to be expected, as dinner time is fast approaching and all the families have returned to their homes, preparing for the festivities. In another life, he might have been one of those families, sitting around a table with his brother and parents and eating to his heart’s content. Perhaps he might’ve asked you to join him, just like you had in the past.

He finds you seated on one of the benches near the entrance, kicking away fallen leaves absentmindedly. He takes this moment to observe you from afar, his breath getting caught in his throat when he realizes how long it has been since he last saw you.

His heart aches, the constant heaviness that has made a home in his chest growing tenfold. There are no words to explain the plethora of emotions flying through his head, but all he knows is that at the root of it all, he simply just misses you.

You hear him approach him before you see him. When he looks at you, Jungkook doesn’t know how you’re feeling. He used to be so good at anticipating your mood, always the first one to sense when you were upset or annoyed. Now, you just looked… blank, and for some reason, that hurts to see more than if you had been angry.

Jungkook stops right in front of you, his black boots crunching on dead leaves. You motion for him to take a seat beside you, patting the bench lightly.

“Hi. It’s been a while,” you say softly. You aren’t looking at him, and your hair obstructs him from viewing your face.

“Hello,” he replies, feeling dumb. He can’t think of anything better to say, all the things he had prepared in his mind suddenly blown away with the wind. The sight of you alone makes his mouth go dry, his hands to grow cold and clammy. He realizes, not for the first time, how terribly out of his depth he is.

“This has certainly been a long time coming, hasn’t it?”

“It has been,” he agrees. “It’s almost laughable how long it’s taken us to get to this moment.”

You bark out a laugh, the hoarse sound ringing in the air. “Laughable is certainly one way to put it, I guess.”

“Then why did you ignore me for so long? Why did you suddenly shut me out when you told me you wanted to talk? What happened?” He speaks without meaning to, the words flying out of his mouth before he can think of stopping. If his sudden inquiry startles you, you don’t show it.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You shrug, pushing back some of your hair behind your ear. He can see the slope of your nose, the outline of your lips, the shape of your eyes. He memorizes all these things about you, sees you in his dreams and nightmares, but nothing can ever beat real life.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a start: two words heavy with meaning. What does he apologize for first? The rumors? The jealousy? The betrayal? It wouldn’t matter which one he chooses to tackle first because he already knows sorry isn’t going to cut it, but he has to try at least. This isn’t really about him anymore or about asking for forgiveness. You deserve to know everything he’s done—if you wanted to know, that is.

You blink rapidly, but your eyes are dry. “I know.”

“You don’t have to forgive me.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to trust me.”

“I don’t,” you say, and it hurts the both of you when you do. Jungkook feels his insides clench, feels his heart collapse in his chest. “I don’t trust you, Jungkook,” you repeat.

“I…” Jungkook has to take a few shuddering breaths, his vision going blurry as he tries to keep it together. He waits for the pain to ebb, but it flows like a river down his veins. “I hurt you a lot. It’s only right that you don’t trust me.”

“I have a lot of regrets,” you say, sniffling. You still aren’t crying, but your nose is red from the cold. He wonders how long you had sat here waiting for him to arrive. How long have you been waiting for him in general?

“I have a lot of those, too,” he says. “I regret being unfair to you. For keeping people away from getting close to you, like a property meant to be hidden away. I tried to steal you for myself, but that’s not a very good thought, is it? I shouldn’t have thought that you were a thing to be kept. You should have been someone I treasured.”

“Then why didn’t you treasure me?” The question echoes loudly in Jungkook’s ears, as it’s the very same question that has weighed in his mind the moment he started to wonder where he’d gone wrong. Why hadn’t he loved you the way that he should have?

“Because I abused your love for me, even when I wasn’t aware of it,” he says plainly. He has known the answer for a while now but refused to accept it until this moment. It feels like a cork inside of him has burst, releasing all the foul, wretched things inside of him and out into the open. And once they start tumbling out, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop.

“I think we both knew we loved each other for as long as we can remember. We skirted around each other because we were scared of change, of losing the friendship we had built over the years. We purposefully ignored each other’s feelings and brushed off our friends’ attempts to help us realize something we already knew.”

“We did,” you say. “That was both our faults.”

“But I was never good at bottling up my feelings. It was only a matter of time before the love I had for you began to grow claws and fangs, and somehow along the way,” he pauses, a breath of sorrowful laughter escaping him, “I had gotten lost.”

Your expression morphs then, shifting from pain, to grief, to acceptance. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Your eyes look glazed over, like your mind is somewhere else. When you come back down, you already have another question for him. “Why didn’t you ever ask me out?”

He should just say something else, but he can’t help but wonder—”Why didn’t you?”

“I tried—a couple of times. You never noticed they were dates,” you shrug. A leaf from one of the nearby trees gets caught in your hair, and Jungkook reflexively plucks it out. You both freeze when his fingers graze your nape, gazes locking with one another. He jerks his hand back, but doesn’t look away—doesn’t dare to.

(It might be his last chance.)

“I’m sorry for being dense. For resorting to buying rumors so that I could pretend to date you when I could have asked for the real thing. I’m sorry for setting you up with… Namjoon,” he hesitates on his name, and you notice. “It must have confused you greatly, only worsening the doubt you must’ve had for me.”

“It did.” The corners of your eyes look wetter than before, tears dangerously close to the surface. “When I asked you if I should go to Ilsan the first time... You told me to go, even though everyone told me you were jealous of Namjoon. I was starting to believe them, hoping that maybe it was a sign that everything before then had just been a misunderstanding. But that was all you, wasn’t it? Why didn’t you tell me to stay?”

“It was a mistake,” he mutters. He shakes his head at the memory: a frequent recurring nightmare of his as he is forced to remember the moment everything had started to go downhill. “I had realized I was being a jealous asshole far too late, and I was trying to clear my own conscience. I thought that… if I let you go, then you’d think better of me. That I might be absolved of my sins if I took your trip as my penance. I didn’t think you were trying to see if I would stop you,” he explains, but it sounds like an excuse even to his ears.

You sit together, watching the sun begin to set, bathing the world in its orange hues. Jungkook feels empty, wrung out like a towel left to dry. The wounds inside him ache and throb, but he knows they won’t last. As surely as the sun will rise, he will also relearn to feel whole again—even if it means you won’t be there to see it.

“I waited for so long, Koo.” You shake your head, allowing a few traitorous tears to fall. You let out a watery laugh. “ I waited for this moment for so long, but I never imagined it would be like this.”

Jungkook studies his hands. He desperately wants to hold you one more time, but the ship has already sailed. “We’ve already sailed past each other a long time ago.”

You nod your head sadly. “We have.”

“Is it bad that I wish that we hadn’t?” he whispers, but he doesn’t really expect a response from you. He rubs his face, covertly trying to wipe his tears away. “I guess there’s a reason why you called me number two, huh?”

You can’t even force out a laugh. You sob unabashedly, cupping your face in your hands. This is the end.

This is the end of a great long adventure between you and him—the time for your roads to diverge closes in, like a shadow looming over their heads.

Jungkook wraps you in an embrace for the last time. You shake like a leaf in his arms, clutching at his chest like you don’t want to let go. He drinks you in, tries to commit everything about you to his memory. “Thank you for loving me, even if it didn’t work out. Thank you for being my first love.”

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 7:07 PM

Kim Namjoon opens the door to his childhood home the moment he hears footsteps climbing up the stairs. He’d done so numerous times already, spooking one or two of his neighbors at his sudden appearance. This time, however, he finds the person he had been waiting for.

“Oh, Y/N. Thank god,” he sighs in relief when he sees you, rushing out the door just as you finish taking the last stairstep. You wobble in surprise when you notice him, nearly falling over with a scream before he catches you by the waist to keep you steady. He pulls you close, pressing your face gently into his chest.

“I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so sorry for bringing you to Ilsan even though Yoongi told us not to go. I’m sorry for not telling you that I knew Jungkook and Hoseok were coming here, too. I’m so sorry for—”

“Namjoon,” you try to interrupt him, but he keeps going.

“—wanting you and Jungkook to reconcile even if you didn’t want you to leave me. You just looked so sad all the time, and I knew you needed to speak to him at least one more time so that you could find closure, but I should have asked you first like a decent person—”

“Namjoon,” you repeat. Namjoon pauses long enough to see that our eyes are red-rimmed from crying, further increasing the panic rising in his body.

“Oh god, I didn’t want you to be sadder! I just… God! I just wanted to help you for once, because you always helped me with everything. I know you deserve to make your own decisions, to be your own person, but I ignored that in favor of following my stupid gut—”

“Joonie, the neighbors can hear you,” you hiss, furtively glancing at the doors opening around them. You can feel many eyes on you, watching curiously at the red-faced idiot babbling like a man possessed. You motion for him to stop, but he’s too caught up in the moment.

“For a while, I thought I could stop myself from falling in love with you, but it was so hard! You have to understand how impossible it is not to love you. Believe me, I tried!” Namjoon all but shouts the last part out, shaking you by the shoulders. “I don’t deserve you! I’m just not a good boyfriend! I’m insecure to a fault, I’m boring, I have mild sleep apnea, I forget to throw out the empty milk cartons—”

You yelp as he continues to shake you, gently having to pry his hands off of you to save yourself from being shaken like a bobblehead. “Joonie,” you say, firmer this time.

He rambles and rambles and rambles. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, hands gesticulating wildly like a human helicopter. He’s so wrapped up in his monologue that he doesn’t realize immediately when you take his hands in yours, forcing him to keep still.

“Joonie.”

“—and I’ve never been able to hold a relationship for longer than two months! My past girlfriend even left me after cheating on me the entire time—”

“Joonie.”

“I’ve never been good at being vulnerable and being myself, but you somehow managed to make me feel like I was worth something. You made me feel so so so incredibly loved. You made me feel important!”

“Kim Namjoon!” You shout, finally losing your temper and flicking him on the forehead. That finally manages to stop him, his eyes going cross-eyed like a cartoon character. You could almost see the flying stars orbiting his head. Properly silenced now, you push him back into his apartment, kicking the door with your foot before locking it for good measure.

When you turn back to face him, he’s still frozen where you left him. He stands in the middle of his living room like a robot, his mouth slightly agape as if his wires had been fried. Rolling your eyes goodnaturedly, you pull him to the couch, gently guiding him so that he doesn’t accidentally fall on his ass as he continues to short circuit in front of you. It takes him another whole minute to get his bearings together, but you’re a patient person. You sit in the adjacent armchair and wait for him to speak.

“Oh my god.” He swallows awkwardly, the color draining from his face. “What the hell did I do?”

“Welcome back to earth,” you smile, waving a hand in front of him. “Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you.” It seems as though Namjoon’s weird candor spell is still in effect. He has the presence of mind to be embarrassed this time, however, and you watch amusedly as his cheeks begin to redden. “I, umm…”

“Gave quite a show out there. I didn’t know you could rap,” you tease, your mouth curling up into a smile. The muscles in your cheeks feel sore, almost as if it has been ages since you last used them. This morning feels like it had happened eons ago.

“Sorry. I just… had a lot to say,” he replies lamely. He hangs his head, embarrassed to look you in the eye. “So… I’m guessing you spoke to Jungkook?”

He hears you hum in agreement, but you don’t say anything on the matter. Namjoon has never been one to pry, but his overactive brain can’t help but make connections out of nothing, trying to make sense of the world in desperation.

“I’m guessing you’re here to reject me, right? I’m sorry for confessing to you all of a sudden when you’re already spoken for. It was unfair of me, and you don’t need to try and spare my feelings at all. I’ve been prepared for this since August,” he speaks rapidly, nearly losing his breath in his haste. “It was my fault for thinking we could have happened. I mistook your kindness for reciprocation when I should have known better—”

“Joonie, my love. You’re rambling again.” Your voice snaps him back to reality. He turns redder somehow, sinking deep into his seat.

“S-sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you huff, pouting in annoyance, but Namjoon catches the fondness in your eyes. “You aren’t unfair at all.”

“E-even so,” he stutters, heart hammering in his chest. “I shouldn’t have expected anything to happen between us. We were only going to fake date until the end of Chuseok, so it was foolish of me to try and… replace Jungkook, somehow. But I suppose, in the grand scheme of things… he’s a tough act to follow up to, huh? Seven years of loving someone is a long time. I don’t hold a candle to that,” he says dejectedly.

“But you do.” The words slip out before you can stop them. Your eyes widen, shocked by your own admission. Even so, you know what you said is true, and you wouldn’t take it back even if you could.

For a moment, you think he doesn’t hear it when he doesn’t react. It takes a second for his brain to buffer, but Namjoon had heard you, loud and clear.

“What do you mean?” His tone is soft, hesitant. Afraid, but hopeful.

You shrug your shoulders. You want to tell him everything, but you are impossibly tired, your eyelids like sandbags just waiting to fall. Namjoon must have noticed because he stumbles out of his seat with his arms outstretched, ready to keep you from slumping over.

“Woah, there. I’m sorry for interrogating when you must be exhausted. Do you want to take my bed instead of the couch tonight?” he asks, kneeling in front of you.

You blink sleepily at him, nodding with a large yawn. “I wanna talk to you but I’m tired,” you say, before promptly toppling onto him. He doesn’t flinch at your weight, catching you in an instant. He lets you nestle your face into his neck, and he grabs your arms until they’re laced around his shoulders. Slowly, he gets up with you in his arms, a feeling of weightlessness filling your senses. Safe.

When he tucks you into his bed, the sheets smell familiar and homey. Namjoon sits by the edge, brushing a few strands of hair away from your forehead. “Namjoon?” Your voice sounds muted to your own ears, as if you were underwater. But you don’t feel like you’re drowning, not at all.

“Yes?” He watches you with kind eyes, the same ones he has always had. To you, he looks like a prayer come to life, a promise ready to be fulfilled.

“You’ll be here? When I wake up?”

Namjoon exhales out a laugh, smiling sweetly. I love your dimples, you want to say, but your body feels heavy. Tomorrow. You’ll tell him for sure.

“Yes, Y/N. I’ll always be here. For as long as you want.”

You close your eyes. Tomorrow.

It’s a promise.

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