#and then there was the incident where a child looked me in the fucking eyes and said You Are A Lesbian.

[six-of-cringe]

For a run of the mill cis woman, I get a lot of comments and questions about my womanhood from kids at my job. I had a boy today at the ropes course say to me "You have a deep voice. You sound like an adventure woman." Which not only is the best thing anyone has ever said to me, it is a great reminder to any trans women out there that are insecure about their voice. Keep in mind that you simply sound like an adventure woman.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC More Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Dick, opening his arms wide and going for a hug: hey, Danny!

Danny, looking him in the eyes without blinking: did you know that centuries ago fae really liked to crawl inside human bodies and use them as nests? I heard human insides are really warm and squishy.

Dick, sweating, frozen in place: ...no?..

Danny, smiling and cheerfully jumping to hug Dick: I didn't either!

Jason, because he is feeling adventurous today: I have a question. Where do Fae come from?

Danny: Ah, so B hadn't had the Talk with you yet, what a shame. So when a woman and a man love each other very much-

Damian: Enough of your foolish jokes, I do not wish to hear the sex talk from you. To answer your question, Todd, Fae come from the dreams.

Jason, deadpan: ...really?

Danny, very awkwardly: Um. Dami. Brother to my soul. I'm so sorry.

Damian: What?

Danny: I told you we come from dreams only because you were four. That's not actually how it works. We just fuck.

Duke, narrowing his eyes at Danny suspiciously: So, for the past week and a half, I've been having this recurring dream about you eating my brain with a fork like spaghetti. I was wondering, is it, like, a you thing or a me thing?

Danny, very offended: Duke! Not every weird thing that happens in this house is my fault! That is very rude of you!

Cass, after Duke had apologized profusely and left: You.

Danny, rolling his eyes: Yeah, okay, I did do that. In my defense, his fear tastes like the perfect greasy cheeseburger, and I have to get my fair share of junk food somehow.

Cass: >:(

Danny: Okay, I'll stop. Eventually.

Bruce, in his nth attempt at gaining information from Danny: How do you know if someone is a Fae or not?

Danny: Throw a fish at them.

Bruce: ????

Danny, not even looking up from his phone: Fish are scared of the Fae. So if you throw a fish at someone and the fish gets scared, they are Fae.

Gotham Rogues a week later: We have no idea why Batman keeps throwing guppies at us, but we collectively suspect his new child is to blame.

Danny: Oh, I'm forbidden to enjoy caraoke nights.

Steph, who suggested he join: What? Why? Is it some kind of punishment for the pizza incident?

Tim: No, it's because if he starts singing, we all lose our grip on reality.

Damian: And our dignity.

Danny: They mean they start dancing whether they want it or not, and I have videos to prove it. Wanna see Jason twerking? Or I have one with Tim and Bruce waltzing through the manor.

Steph, as everyone else bemoans their fate: With great pleasure.

| <- prev | next ? |

@violet-foxe

[captainadwen]

Damian Wayne vs the World

Sixteen year old Damian Wayne is on the hunt for a younger sibling. Being more discerning than Bruce 'child collector' Wayne, Damian's firm criteria for Batman's latest adoption problem includes but is not limited to: black haired, blue-eyed, tolerable humor, not evil, and most importantly - younger than Damian.

Lucky for him, fourteen year old newbie vigilante Danny Fenton is the perfect fit. Now, to fulfill his end of their deal, Damian must defeat the evil government organization hunting Danny in order to gain a baby brother.

Or, @livinghalfway your post made my brain go !! but in such a different way I figured it was better to make a separate post, hope you don't mind/enjoy still

~~

Damian Wayne re-entered Tim Drake's life like a gnat revealing itself in a closed bedroom space. Tim was in t-shirt and a boxers, maneuvering ramen into his mouth with one hand and scribbling out an epiphany on a murder case with another, when Damian's demonic dulcet voice echoed down from the ceiling. "Drake," said Damian, judgemental, "You live like this?"

Tim nearly choked on his ramen, because the day Damian doesn't attempt to murder him - however doubtfully accidental this incident might be - is the day Darkseid decides to be friends with the Justice League. "Fucking knock," Tim coughed out. "And get out. No one invited you in."

"Put better traps if you don't want me here," said Damian, dropping from the ceiling where he'd crawled in on wall-clamps.

"This is my apartment," said Tim. "It's called courtesy."

Damian sniffed. He padded around to Tim's desk and frowns at his cases, then said, with no further lead up, "I need your assistance."

"No," said Tim.

"You did not even listen to my request."

"Don't need to," said Tim. "Answer's still no. Door is that way. Bye."

"Father says mutually assisting each other is beneficial," said Damian.

"Father," said Tim sarcastically, "blamed me for you exploding a glitter bomb in the batcave two weeks ago."

"That is your fault for not being able to provide evidence to the contrary in an appropriately efficient manner," said Damian. He squinted down at Tim. "And he apologized. Eventually."

"I would not have glittered the batcomputer," said Tim. "Do you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to backup those servers? No, because you don't like tech work, you just profit off it."

"Blaming me for Father's mistake," said Damian, "Most mature of you. But we must put our differences aside. I have selected a new family member and I need you to dismantle a government organization."

That drew Tim up short. He blinked down at his ramen as though it might explain Damian's words to him, but the ramen remained disappointingly uninformative. "Repeat that," said Tim, gesturing with his chopsticks. "Slower, and with more detail."

Damian pulled out his phone and sent him an email. Silence surrounded them in the brief moment it took Tim to set aside his chopsticks and open the email. The subject line was titled 'New Baby Brother', which birthed all sorts of horrifying nightmares of Damian Part 2: Demon Child Boogaloo. The teen in the inserted picture, however, was reassuringly not in possession of Damian's bone structure.

He did have black hair and blue eyes. "Who am I looking at?" asked Tim.

"Daniel Fenton," said Damian. "He is fourteen years old, enjoys puns, and has recently awakened 'ghost powers' that allow him to transform into the vigilante Phantom to fight other ghosts."

"Is he also an orphan with a tragic backstory?"

"No," said Damian, and Tim relaxed. "But that will not be an issue. We can share custody if they cannot be removed from the picture."

"Jesus H, kid."

"I am joking, of course," said Damian blandly. "Murder is wrong."

"Ha ha," said Tim. "If he has parents already he's not joining our menagerie."

"He will," said Damian, with a smug upwards tilt of his lips. "He and I have a deal."

"So you're coercing him in addition to stalking him. Anything else you want to share with the class?"

Damian considered this query with a serious frown, which was how Tim knew this was not a flight of fancy or a very early midlife crisis (although with their lifestyle and Damian already having died before...).

"He has," said Damian after a moment, "a rogue that calls himself 'The Master of all Technology' and is a technopath." This was clearly meant to be of interest to Tim, and not to be a stereotype, but it kind of was.

"Great." Tim turned his attention back to the email the demon child sent him. He scanned through it quickly. There was apparently a secret and evil government organization dedicated to the investigation and extermination of 'ghosts' and other paranormal creatures in the world. Their latest efforts were focused on the town of Amity Park, Illinois, which was 'infested with ectoplasmic pests'. Their words, not Damian's. (It was specified in the email.)

"Okay," Tim drummed his fingers against his desk. "Before I help you defeat this secret evil government organization so that," he opened the email attachment with a contract on it and squinted at the legalese, "this poor newbie teen you've harassed into signing this joins the family in exchange."

"I did not harass him," Damian huffed. "It was a gentleman's agreement."

"Does he know that?"

"I am not a politician, Drake. I thoroughly explained the terms and legalities before presenting any contract. Now ask your question."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because," said Damian, tone implying 'you are stupid and haven't noticed something obvious, idiot'. "Father has begun saying he misses the noise around the manor and looking wistfully at old pictures."

"We still live there though?" said Tim. Damian looked flatly at him. "Sometimes."

"If you lived there frequently enough," said Damian, "you would already know Father is having...empty nest syndrome." Damian sounded disgusted. "I refuse to tolerate whatever inadequate and incompetent child he will find."

"So instead you found an incompetent and inadequate child for him?"

"Don't be stupid, Drake," said Damian. "I would not have chosen someone inadequate. Daniel is merely lacking formal training. Father can rectify this. It will keep him occupied for at least the next two to four years, which gives me enough time to find another black-haired, blue-eyed, tolerable child I approve of to be his successor and my second younger sibling." Damian paused. "Or until one of you procreates and gives him a grandchild."

"You're really serious about this," Tim whispered in horrified awe.

"I am serious about everything I do," said Damian. "Now, you will help me defeat this evil government organization so that our new sibling joins us."

"Okay," said Tim, but his mind snagged on a minor, throwaway detail, so utterly in odds with Damian 'Demonic Jealous Child' Al Ghul it surely came from another person - "Did you just call this kid your successor?"

[eoieopda]

triple-dog dare | lsm

“Bambi.”

The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario. 

He didn’t love that analogy.

Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:

“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”

pairing: lee seokmin x reader summary: when you're left off the guest list to seokmin's parent's thirtieth anniversary party, you're content to keep your questions to yourself and stay home. seokmin, on the other hand, is not content. in fact, he pulls the one card he knows will always win. au: childhood best friends to lovers genre: fluff, angst, smut type: one-shot rating: 18+ only. minors do not have my consent to interact. wc: 13k cw: pov switches, complicated sibling dynamics (seokmin’s), there is in fact one (1) bed, halmonis gone wild, stupid childhood nicknames, fingering (v), oral sex (m receiving), multiple orgasms, implied penetrative sex (p in v). reader notes: afab, uses she/her pronouns, wears a dress/heels to the party, is implicitly an only child. the setting is intentionally ambiguous, so she's not implicitly korean and/or asian. there are no descriptions of body shape/size, complexion, etc. a/n: thank you to the incomparable @daechwitatamic for beta-ing this! it's been a long damn time since i've written anything, so this might not have seen the light of day without jo, the hype-man. on that note, i suck at summaries; just read the fic, lmao. svt masterlist. svt permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist.

For being the walking disaster that he is, there have been shockingly few moments in Lee Seokmin’s life where he’s needed to shove his oversized foot into his oversized mouth.

Prior to the incident at your apartment, the last time he’d embarrassed himself like this was when he’d asked his oldest sister, Soyeon, in earnest whether or not she was pregnant, only to learn that she was just bloated; and he’s just an ass.

To your credit, you’re far from cruel when he slips up, but that almost makes it worse. You visibly deflate when he asks his well-intentioned but ill-fated question, rather than letting him have it the way his two siblings would have done.

The day in question went like this:

He asked, “Did you reserve your room yet for the 31st? If not, we can double up. It’ll be a lot cheaper.”

And you blinked, stunned like you’d been slapped. “Have I what?”

It dawned on you both at that moment that, for whatever reason, his parents’ thirtieth anniversary party was in fact news to you. Two things then happened at once: you tried to hide your surprise and the twinge of pain that comes with being excluded; and he racked his stupid brain to find any explanation for why you had to feel either one of those things.

The best option he found was to gently toss his middle sister, Seonmi, under the metaphorical bus. 

“Seonmi’s been working on something special for them. You know how she gets,” he waved dismissively. “So obsessed with finding the perfect napkins — ” He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “— and creating custom cocktails, that she misses the forest for the trees.”

You didn’t look convinced. Likewise, you didn’t look any less uncomfortable.

Fuck.

“I’m sure it was an honest mistake.” To drive his point home, he reached from his spot on your couch to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. “I have a plus-one, so it’s not like it’ll be a logistical problem. You belong there as much as we do.”

And he meant it, wholeheartedly. 

All his life, the running joke has been that Soonyi and Minseok Lee have four kids: two biological daughters, a younger son, and his otherwise unrelated twin, who spent more time sleeping on his top bunk than in her own home next door. 

The way he saw it — and the way he’s sure his parents would see it — is that no family gathering is complete without you. That’s a hill he’d die on if need be.

You shifted in your seat, which caused his hand to slip off your knee, whether or not you meant for it to happen. Glancing uneasily out your window, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, mumbling, “I don’t know…”

Seokmin frowned. You didn’t see it, though, and therefore weren’t moved by it. Instead, you cycled through your anxious thoughts at high velocity. If he was still touching you, he’d be worried that your sparking brain might catch him on fire.

“What if it’s not a mistake? I mean, what if it’s a couples thing?” 

He couldn’t even classify these questions as rhetorical because he wasn’t meant to hear them in the first place. Though you asked out loud, each one of them was for your ears only. From his half of the couch — miles away — his frown deepened, unbeknownst to you.

“You know, Seonmi follows me on Instagram; she’d know that Kai and I broke up a few months ago. Maybe she doesn’t want me to feel awkward? Even if I went, and I didn’t feel weird about that, her expecting it to be weird might make it weird, right?”

Fuck.

You’d spiral all day if Seokmin didn’t stop you. As much as he loves how thoughtful you are, he knows better than most that you have a tendency to take it too far, inflicting that relentless consideration on yourself until it wounds. 

“Bambi.”

The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario. 

He didn’t love that analogy.

Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:

“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”

Begrudgingly, you’d conceded, just like Seokmin hoped you would. You sat with him while he figured out travel plans to the mountain resort, helped him visualize what the hell he needed to wear to an event like this. When the time came, you sent him half the cost for the room he booked, even though he repeatedly insisted that you didn’t need to chip in.

Now, that unsolicited sum sits untouched in his Venmo balance. You sit next to him on the night train out of town.

Sit, he thinks, is a bit of an understatement. You’re barely upright, so exhausted from your work day that his shoulder and side are bearing most of your weight. His arm went from tingling to numb an hour ago, but Seokmin doesn’t mind. There isn’t a burden he wouldn’t carry for you, up to and including you yourself.

Besides, he’s not worse off for being left to his own devices. In fact, he keeps himself thoroughly entertained by taking selfies of the pair of you. The aftermath will stay securely in his camera roll — largely because you’d kill him if you saw how squishy your face is, pressed against his coat, or how your little pout trembles slightly, almost as if you’re trying to talk through your sleep — but he still finds it worth the risk. This mochi-cheeked version of you is one of his favorites.

When Seokmin has amassed enough silly photos to comprise a dossier, he tucks his phone back into his pocket with a self-satisfied smile. You’re still out cold, so you don’t stir at his subtle movements or the sound of the concession trolley rattling your way down the aisle.

The girl manning said trolley is significantly outweighed by the thing itself. She hardly looks old enough to have graduated high school, he figures, and he can’t imagine how it is that she’s working at this hour — or how she got stuck doing this job, when it takes all she’s got to maneuver the giant metal contraption through all the train cars.

“Anything, sir?” She asks politely, albeit slightly out-of-breath. 

Even though she’s speaking to him, her gaze is directed squarely at his hat, leading him to believe that she may also be too shy for her job. Nonetheless, it’s been two entire hours since his dinner, and he’s on the brink of starving to death, so he coughs up a few bills in exchange for several different snacks. 

She could do him the kindness of assuming his massive pile of food is for sharing, but she doesn’t. She gestures to you and whispers, “Anything for your —?”

Seokmin intercepts the question, knowing exactly where it’s headed: in the same direction as the million others like it that he’s heard over the years. 

“— parole officer?” He supplies with a smile, “No, this nap is fueled by a lot of crab rangoon. She’ll be out for the duration, I fear.”

Both halves of his response seem to stun her, which means he has to cover his inevitable laugh with a fake cough. 

This bit of yours will truly never get old, although the implications that prompt it did a long time ago. It was a stroke of genius on your part, dodging inaccurate references to your relationship status by offering up something too absurd to converse around.

“You two make such a cute couple,” an Uber driver once told you.

“He’s not in a relationship,” you’d politely corrected him. “He’s in witness protection. I’m duty-bound to keep him and his identity safe.”

The silence turns awkward, so Seokmin thanks the girl and gives her a smile he hopes says, “you’re allowed to run away from me now; I won’t take it personally.” She bows her head a little too eagerly, then skitters off with a grimace, like she pulled something in her neck.

Alone again with you, he wiggles gently upright in his seat so that you can rest more comfortably against his pectoral, rather than his shoulder bone. Even though you’re still asleep, Seokmin swears he hears a quiet mmpfh, as if you’re expressing gratitude. He bites his lips to keep from smiling, knowing that smiling in your proximity is one step away from laughter: the only thing you��ve never been able to sleep through.

Instead of giving into the urge, he murmurs, “You should get paid royalties whenever we use that joke. Being as smart as you are should pay off.”

Now, he knows he’s not simply hearing things because you’re just barely loud enough to overcome your own mumbling. 

“Agreed,” you sigh on an exhale before slipping to sleep off again.

“Well?” 

There are two beats between his first question and his next: the unfilled gap you’ve left in the conversation and the cab’s trunk shutting firmly. “‘s that cool with you?”

Seokmin stares at you, staring at him. His expression is soft, like your lack of responsiveness is something to be fond of, rather than annoyed by. It’s unexpectant, too, leaving the door wide open.

You blink. “Sorry — I — What did you say?” 

Hitting him when he least expects it, you shift your suitcase from your dominant hand so you can gesture properly to the bright, poorly crocheted bucket hat flopping over his forehead. “It’s a bit hard to hear you. That hat is so loud.”

His quizzically raised eyebrows drop in an instant. Likewise, that airy smile of his flattens into a straight line. 

Bullseye.

“Is it me that you hate?” He asks, tone dead serious as he points his finger towards his own chest. “Or is it the very concept of whimsy?”

You’re too busy biting back a grin to protest when, without being asked, Seokmin reaches out and takes the handle of your suitcase into his own hand, as well as the garment bag you’d draped over your arm. Before turning away to abscond with both sets of luggage in addition to his own, he shoots you an incredulous look. It dissolves entirely before his face even disappears from view. 

“This is an objectively delightful hat,” he mutters, nonetheless, in furtherance of the bit.

He spots a member of hotel staff standing on the sidewalk directly outside the hotel’s double doors and pleads his case to them. “She made me this hat, you know,” he announces, gesturing back to you with a nod.

The valet’s uniform hat casts a shadow under the lamplight, but it doesn’t do enough to hide the expression on their face. It is abundantly clear — even in the dark — that they didn’t hear a single word Seokmin said before he offered up that bit of trivia, seemingly apropos of nothing. They muster up a customer-service smile that doesn’t reach their eyes and tell him it’s a wonderful hat. Meanwhile, you roll your eyes from behind because nothing either of them just said is true.

That hat is the byproduct of delusions of grandeur and innumerable skeins of color-conflicting yarn. You made it for yourself, believing that you were the kind of cute and kitschy person who could pull it off; and inconsolable weeping Christ, were you wrong. It was — no, is — your greatest fiber arts failure.

Frankenstein’s floral monster would be in a secondhand shop somewhere if you’d had any say in the matter. It isn’t because you didn’t. Seokmin “rescued” it from the “to donate” pile on your bedroom floor. Since then, he’s worn it at every — public — opportunity, season be damned.

Admittedly, he’s exactly the kind of cute and kitschy person who can pull it off, but you’ve decided out of sheer pettiness to keep that appraisal to yourself.

You take your time catching up to him, both because his long legs make it hard to keep pace; and because the room is reserved under his name. After all, he’s the welcomed guest, not the reluctant party-crasher. The receptionist is already handing him a white keycard when you finally reach the desk. Seokmin holds it up between his index and middle fingers, closed-eye grin sparkling in a matching shade of ivory.

Though the journey up to your shared room is long, the real trip is being confined to an elevator with mirrors for walls. 

No matter how hard you try to avert your eyes, you manage to keep finding some new, horrible angle of your stale, post-train state. It’s torture. Three versions of you stare back with deep, dark undereye circles; and all you can think about is how dull your complexion is — especially in comparison to Seokmin, who may as well be bioluminescent with the way he glows from the inside out.

It’s joy, you know, his primary state of being and something he radiates like no other. He’s happy to be here, happy that you’re here, and happy to be happy. Whether or not he means it to be, it’s infectious. Now, you feel yourself starting to smile, too.

Despite your quiet observation, you must have missed him looking at you. Seemingly out of nowhere, he carefully sets down your belongings, raises his now-empty hand, and cups the right side of your jaw. Unaware that you’ve frozen solid, he swipes his thumb carefully over your cheek, tilting his own head to the side and frowning.

“I got you bad, huh?”

You blink.

“The zipper on my coat,” he explains, laughing. “Looks like it took a bite out of you when you used me as a pillow on the train.”

For reasons you can’t possibly explain, the only word to roll off your tongue is a sheepish, “Sorry.”

For a second, Seokmin is just as confused as you are about whether you’re needlessly apologizing to him or his coat. He chuckles quietly at how easily distracted you both are, then he gets back to the point: “Does it hurt?”

“No.” 

Your response comes unnaturally quick. Your pulse does, too, when you finally make eye contact with him. After clearing your throat, you give him a half-hearted smile, ignoring whatever medical event you seem to be experiencing. “I didn’t know it was there until now.”

He hums in acknowledgment, then rescinds his hand. You watch in silence while he re-encumbers himself with your luggage and turns back to face the elevator doors, which open almost immediately.

Seokmin steps out easily, like the weight of your respective burdens doesn’t mean a thing. “I’d say this way, please, but I’ve already forgotten the room number,” he admits with a sheepish laugh. “The keycard’s in my pocket.”

You take his cue and reach into the front, right pocket of his coat for the keycard. As soon as you see the room number, you snort.

“You booked room number 218 because that’s your birthday, and then… what? You forgot your own birthday?” 

“I’m deeply flawed.” He sighs, put-upon. “Now, let’s go, Bambi. It feels like you packed a week’s worth of bricks.”

There’s no time to point out that you never asked him to carry your suitcase or bag for you in the first place. Likewise, there’s no opportunity to ask exactly how many bricks is a week’s worth. He’s on the move again before you can blink, energy evident in each step regardless of how late it is.

Once again, you follow Seokmin’s lead. Despite the signage, which is clearly visible on the wall, he walks confidently in the wrong direction, prompting you to grab him gently by the elbow and steer him the opposite way. His smile doesn’t falter; he plays it off as if he was just testing how closely you’re paying attention. 

It takes several turns down several additional hallways before the pair of you reach your target. When you come to room 218, you tap the keycard against the reader, causing the lock to click open. You turn the handle, push the door open into the room, and step awkwardly out of the way so your personal bellhop can get by.

“This is what I was trying to tell you when you so viciously insulted my favorite accessory.” Seokmin nods his head towards the center of the room. “All of the rooms Seonmi included in the reservation block have a king-sized bed — singular. The rooms outside the block are criminally overpriced for ski season.”

It’s far from the first time you’ve doubled up, so you shrug. “Just like old times, right? Like, when you thought your house was haunted, and you forced your way into the top bunk with me?”

“First of all,” he says as he sets both of your suitcases down and places one hand on his hip, the other pointing at you. “We were six.”

After locking the door behind you, you toe off your shoes, smirking at him from over your shoulder. “What’s your second point?”

“It was haunted —” He insists. Then his stern expression melts into something smug, the way it always does when he’s about to blatantly rewrite history. “— and you asked me to come up there because you were scared.”

A laugh slips out of you automatically, but you selflessly decide to let him have this. Crossing to him, you pat him on the bicep, patronizingly simpering all the while, “You are the brave one.”

Even though you’re both cowards, and he knows it, he pockets this little victory with a pleased hum and a grin.

Turning away from him, you make a beeline for the closet area near the door. There, you shuck off your coat and hang it up, out of the way. While you do, Seokmin passes you both your garment bag and his. From there, the pair of you work in efficient silence: you, pulling your respective formal wear from their bags and smoothing out any wrinkles; him, tucking away your extensive collection of toiletries in the bathroom.

When everything is in its place, you turn back around and notice for the first time how beautiful the room actually is. Though the shades of the floor-to-ceiling windows are almost completely drawn, the snow-covered mountains are at least partially visible through the gap in fabric. If you had the time, you’d spend all day tomorrow sitting on the forest green, velvet chaise directly in front of the window, staring at frosty peaks so massive, they feel close enough to touch.

To your right, an electric fireplace heats the room, while a portrait-framed television hovers on the wall above the mantle, flipping through famous artworks as a screensaver. In between flashes of Van Gogh’s Almond Blossoms and Klimt’s The Kiss, you catch a glimpse of Seokmin’s smile reflecting on the black screen.

Awestruck, you turn to him and sigh, “Don’t let me get used to this.”

He jerks his thumb to his right, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Don’t judge me if I steal one of the bathrobes. They’re probably more expensive than half the shit in my apartment.”

“I won’t, but they’ll bill you for it when they figure it out,” you warn him. “On that note, do you need to shower or anything before I start my skincare side quest?”

Seokmin shakes his head, causing the crocheted abomination to flop. “All yours. My hair’ll get weird if I don’t deal with it tomorrow before we head out.”

And with that mental image of his insurmountable cowlick, you quickly grab your pajamas and shuffle off towards the bathroom.

The first few seconds after you close the door are spent gawking at the insanely intricate, geometric tile pattern in the walk-in shower. Thinking of how much time it must’ve taken to lay each one of them, you set to work on your own tedious task: your ten-step regimen of cleansers, toners, serums, and moisturizers. Seokmin says otherwise, but you don’t think any of them truly make a difference. As stupid as you know it is, the routine itself is therapeutic, even if your skin is no more bouncy and glowy than it was before.

When it’s all said and done, you emerge from the bathroom to find your best friend stretched out on the half of the bed nearest the door with his eyes fixed on his phone screen. It’s the side of the room he always chooses, claiming that it’s to protect you from any intruders, but you know the truth: he’s too much of a freeze baby to sleep near the window, and he knows you like it cold.

“Feeling refreshed?” He mumbles to the best of his ability; his sweatshirt hood is pulled up and drawn so tightly that it squishes his cheeks and chin, restricting his movement.

Chuckling quietly as you go, you pad over to your half of the bed and slip under the comforter. Like a moth to a flame, the other occupant sends his last text, tosses his phone to the side, and scoots closer to you, eager to siphon whatever extra body heat he can. His head winds up on your shoulder, while your cheek rests against the top of his head.

“Before you tell me that I look it, I’d encourage you to stare long into the abyss that is my under-eye circles.”

When he laughs, it’s merely a puff of air from his nose. “You never look as tired as you feel,” he says distractedly, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “Pretty miraculous, given how little sleep you get.”

That comment warms you up so thoroughly, you wonder if he can feel it. Then, you wonder if that was the point. You intend to tease him for that, but then it dawns on you how fidgety he’s being. It’s rare for him.

“You okay, Thumper?”

It feels silly, using that nickname after so long. Your clumsiness stuck around for the ride, continuing Bambi into perpetuity; but he grew out of his companion name when he hit puberty, and his giant feet were suddenly proportional to the rest of him. 

He’s certainly no bunny, nor is he a child, but the low ebb of anxiety rolling off of him reminds you of the scared little neighbor boy you used to know. It fits, even if it is silly.

At first, Seokmin begins his explanation without peeling his gaze off his restless fingers. “Apparently, Seungcheol and Mingyu are in town.”  Then, his eyes slowly lift up to find you peering down at him. “They want to meet up to go snowboarding before we leave.”

Ah.

There it is: the top-secret look in his eye that only you can decipher. The one he’s been practicing for years, at your insistence, for moments like this, when he needs to be talked into something. When he needs to be brave and avoid missing out on something he’d love, solely because it freaks him out.

You respond the same way you always have; the way you once pinky-promised you always would: “I triple-dog dare you.”

He sighs deeply, neither fully resigned nor relieved, but then he nods. His head knocks slightly against your shoulder as he does. “I’ll do it.”

And that’s that; it’s settled.

Or so you think.

A beat passes in silence, until Seokmin suddenly pipes up again, “But you’re going to have to hold my hand on the chair lift, or I’ll pass out and fall to my death.”

“Deal.” 

You grab his hand now in consideration of your promise and scratch affectionately at his palm. Surprisingly, his thoughts haven’t made him clammy. His skin is even softer than usual, likely due to the expensive hotel lotion he’s undoubtedly now harboring in his suitcase. Tongue firmly in cheek, you look at him sideways. 

“Just — leave the hat in your suitcase, okay? The snow will be blinding enough.”

Seokmin’s been dressed and ready for at least thirty minutes, but you’re still standing exactly where you have been for the last forty-five. Face pinched, you turn this way and that in front of the mirror, smoothing fabric that’s already wrinkle-free, apparently for the hell of it.

“I’m oh-for-three.” Your exasperated sigh is punctuated by your bare, right foot stomping on the carpet. It doesn’t make the impact you likely hope it will, at least sonically. It does, however, speak volumes about how close to the ledge you are.

“All of them looked good,” he says earnestly. “I think this one is my favorite, though, if that means anything.”

Apparently, this is the wrong answer. Your wild-eyed gaze lifts from your own reflection until you’re staring him dead in the eye through the mirror.

“Why did I even pack this?” You ask, “Do you see this?”

Suddenly, you lift a manicured hand to point at your neckline, from which he’d admittedly been averting his eyes. “This is too much cleavage for a family function, isn’t it?”

As quickly as you glanced at him in the first place, you go right back to fussing with your dress, thankfully missing the way he swallows thickly.

Fuck, now he’s staring — but you’re the one that made him look in the first place — and he can feel heat rising to his ears, a dead giveaway. His sudden silence does enough to communicate his struggle. He has no idea how to respond without vaulting over the boundaries of your friendship.

Is it hot in here?

Deciding to rely on his usual tactic, he jokes his way out.

“If you think I’ll ever side against tiddie…” He forces a grimace, shaking his head gravely. “Then you really don’t know me at all.”

You laugh loudly, and whatever one-sided tension filled the room snaps like a twig. Better still, the smile you give him stays on your face while you reassess your dress. Seokmin takes it as a personal victory that you commit to his choice, rather than cycle back through your options for the second time. 

While this means that you’ll both be able to hit the open bar sooner rather than later, the biggest upside is that he no longer has to keep excusing himself to the bathroom so you can change again, and again, and again.

You finish up quickly, tossing on jewelry, and then turn to him. His shoulder keeps you steady while you slip into your devilishly high heels. Seokmin pays them little mind now, however; his attention is drawn to the accessories you’ve chosen. Sure, they match perfectly with the rest of your outfit, but that’s not what strikes him. It’s the fact that everything you’ve picked was gifted to you by his parents at one point or another.

Unable to stop himself, he reaches out and gently taps on one of your dangling earrings. “Eighteenth birthday,” he muses to himself. 

Then, both his gaze and his hand lower to your necklace. He skims his fingertip along the delicate, gold chain, inadvertently making you freeze up. “Christmas 2019?”

You shake your head slightly, though it barely counts as movement.

“Ah,” Seokmin corrects himself. “2020.”

Sensing that he’s somehow made you uncomfortable, he reels himself back in and clears his throat. “Shall we?” He asks, furnishing you with a bent arm to loop yours through.

You take his cue, link your arm to his, and sigh, “I suppose we shall.”

The walk to the elevator is quiet, in that neither one of you says a thing. Seokmin can hear the gears in your head turning, though, without any conversation to drown them out. 

You step inside that glorified, mirrored box; and for a few minutes, he lets you work through the thing he knows ruined your sleep last night. That is, until he hears your breathing come a little quicker than usual.

“Hey.” 

It was supposed to be a jumping off point. He was going to go from there and reiterate that you belong here with him. The plan was to reassure you for as long as it takes to get you to believe it, but you look up at him almost helplessly, and his Etch-a-Sketch brain is wiped clean in an instant.

The very best he can do is smile and offer a single word: “Hi.”

“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes twinkling. 

Your plagued frown curves slightly back in the right direction. The creeping shroud of doom lightens, if only a little bit.

“That’ll do, pig.” You swat his arm, but he says it again, emphatically, “That’ll do.”

Halfway through you scolding him for quoting Babe at a time like this, the elevator door reopens, ready to regurgitate the pair of you out onto the ballroom level. 

Unlike the lobby, which sits only one floor below, this floor looks like it was ripped straight from the pages of a fantasy novel. Everywhere he turns, there’s something new — and vaguely elven — to look at. Fairy lights hang in perfectly spaced arches from the lofted ceiling, delicately illuminating the exposed, wooden beams above. The chandeliers — plural — are crafted out of antlers of some kind, cutting between rugged and highly refined.

As stunning as it all is, Seokmin’s mind snags on a single conclusion. You’re the one who voices it, though, much to his surprise.

“This is the most Seonmi thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you whisper to him, all without taking your eyes off the extravagance in front of you. “Is this a dress rehearsal for her wedding next year?”

He bites down on his lips hard to keep his laughter to himself. Of course, you’re dead on. Nothing about this space feels like his parents, who are supposed to be the sole focus of this entire event. He already found it odd that they agreed to such a big to-do in the first place — especially when it would require their loved ones to go out of their way, literally and financially — but this is….

“Am I being petty, or is this kind of… selfish?”

Petty, no. 

Psychic? Probably.

“You’re right, and you should say it.” Seokmin nods and withdraws his arm from yours so that he can drape it properly around your shoulder. “This way to the beer, please. We’ll need it.”

Merely four steps in the direction to the bar, and a screech rings out from somewhere neither of you can locate. In fact, Seokmin’s head is turned the opposite way when someone launches themself at you, damn near ripping you from his hold.

“Oh, my god! I knew you’d come!”

Soyeon’s relief in seeing you is palpable. Seokmin can practically feel his bones being crushed as she hugs you tight, swaying from side to side. He catches a glimpse of your expression, which barely peeks through the curtain of his oldest sister’s hair; you’re far happier now than you were in the elevator.

His sister kisses the side of your head. “I missed you so fucking much. I love my residency program, but I hate how far away it keeps me.”

A solid minute passes by like this. When it starts to get unbearable, Seokmin clears his throat, hoping to remind his sister that she hasn’t seen him in months, either; and he’s also standing right here.

Instead of greeting him, Soyeon shoots you a wry smile. “Who is he today? A fugitive you’re harboring?”

In tandem, the two of you appraise him with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. See, this he didn’t miss: being both of his sisters’ least favorite younger sibling.

“Oh, no, though I can see why you think that.” You shake your head, then reach out to pat his shoulder patronizingly. “If anyone asks, this is a foreign diplomat, and I’m the interpreter he can’t understand a word without. Best not say hi to him; he won’t know what you’re saying.”

Soyeon nods, though Seokmin wonders if she truly  gets what you’re trying to achieve. Not quite, he realizes a moment later. Instead, she covers his chin with her hand so she can squeeze both his cheeks at once.

“He’s adorable,” she coos. “Doesn��t look old enough or mature enough for diplomacy, though.”

Seokmin rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be doctors, can we?”

Again, in tandem, all eyes on him widen with feigned shock. Between overlapping gasps of “he does understand!” and “someone’s been studying!”, he shakes off his sister’s touch and scowls.

“If you’re going to keep bullying me, can you at least do it at the bar? That way, I can numb my suffering with booze.”

At this, Soyeon drops the charade and pulls him into a hug like a vice grip. She holds him so tightly that his vision starts to get spotty. It’s not until he gently pats her back, begging for air, that she lets him go.

“I missed you too, Thumper,” she swears, prompting you to snicker.

Now, he’s annoyed for a completely different reason — one that makes even less sense to him. That nickname hasn’t bothered him in the last decade, so it shouldn’t now. Then again, the only person who’s called him Thumper since middle school is you.

The rules are different for you, if they exist at all.

“And I promise to catch up with you later, but I’ve got five thousand questions for Bambi, and the answers aren’t half as juicy with you around.”

Just like that, his plus-one is subtracted.

As much as you love Soyeon, she’s no Seokmin. With him, talking is easy; he never rushes to fill silences, doesn’t steer the conversation with a white-knuckled grip. 

On the contrary, his oldest sister comes forward with a pickaxe, smashing through small talk while she mines for the wild stories she thinks she’s missed out on since moving away.

You don’t blame her, really. If you spent all your hours in a hospital, only sleeping in the lulls between other people’s trauma, you’d probably become just as intense — the human equivalent of a cracked-open fire hydrant — in the search for closeness, too.

In the thirty minutes you sit with her, you brief her on all the cliffhangers you’d left her with the last time you saw her.

Yes, you’re still stuck with your lease in the same apartment; and the old lady next door still regularly sets off the building’s fire alarm by accident.

No, you decided not to stay with Kai and haven’t spoken since the breakup; he needed more of your time and energy than you wanted to sacrifice for him.

No, Seokmin still hasn’t gone out with anyone that you know of in months. In fact, it’s been so long since either of you have touched on this topic, especially compared to how little time he and the last girl were together, that you can’t even remember her name. 

Beyond that first, limited fact, you keep your mouth shut about the rest. It’s not your business to share; and it wouldn’t kill her to ask Seokmin about himself for once.

The longer you spend with her, the more frustrated you find yourself getting, although you keep this fact to yourself, too. Soyeon and Seonmi have both spent their lives fussing about Seokmin, talking about him like he’s some helpless baby, without doing much to get to know him.

That’s it.

If you were at all confident that Soyeon would take the initiative, you’d let her find all of this out on her own. She won’t, you know, but maybe it’ll sink in if she hears it from you.

“Seokmin’s doing really well, now that you mention it,” you offer, though she barely mentioned him in the first place. “He got promoted last month; he’s now lead architect on that massive commercial lot downtown. Apparently, it’s still a secret, whatever it is they’re putting there. Must be something special.”

Seokmin is something special, you all but yell inside your head.

Soyeon’s eyes brighten. 

Nobody loves secrets quite like she does. You wait for the barrage, anticipating all the questions to which you’ll have to respond with “seriously, I don’t know,” but they don’t come.

Instead, she puts her drink back on its coaster, reaches out, and squeezes your wrist with her slightly chilled hand. “I’m grateful that he’s always had you, Bambi. If he didn’t, I don’t know if he’d lean in to opportunities like that.”

The look on her face tells you she means it. Maybe that’s what makes your stomach sour: that she can sit there, hearing of Seokmin’s accomplishments, and still find a way not to credit him for them.

Anger ignites inside of you. The flames lick up your esophagus, ready to explode, and you suck in a breath with every intention of letting her burn.

But then an arm slinks around your waist. Seokmin’s head bumps slightly against yours until you’re cheek to cheek.

“I hope I’m interrupting something.”

For a second, you think his slight tipsiness caused him to misspeak. Tilting your head to the side the best you can, you look at him out of the corner of your eye and catch his very subtle wink.

Soyeon opens her mouth, but Seokmin makes his wish a reality.

“Sorry, sis,” Seokmin says, entirely unapologetically. “I just found out that the band takes requests; and I’ll be goddamned if Bambi and I don’t show you clowns the meaning of dance.”

It takes no encouragement whatsoever for you to slip off your stool, get to your feet, and inch your way closer to his side. Then, like a starting gun was fired, the two of you bolt clumsily away from the bar, with you shouting “sorry!” over your shoulder as you go.

Your heels skid against the dance floor when you finally reach it, but Seokmin steadies you before you can eat shit in front of god and everyone.

“You’re way too expressive, you know that?” The fact that he’s out-of-breath doesn’t keep him from laughing. “I could’ve seen that grumpy turtle face of yours from space.”

Unintentionally, you prove his point, drawing your eyebrows together and frowning. “I do not —”

“— Also, I lied,” he interrupts yet again.

This, coupled with the everything else going on, leaves you too stunned to speak.

“This band is all trot, all the time. They don’t take requests — trust me, I tried — but if you stay here with me long enough, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Seokmin doesn’t wait for you to answer because he knows it’s a yes. He doesn’t wait for you to assume your position, either, and instead holds your left hand in his right before placing your right on his left shoulder. This close, you feel the urge to tell him how handsome he looks with his hair parted off his forehead. You don’t, however.

The music swells behind you. Seokmin leads, and you follow, swaying slowly and moving across the floor.

“Two birds?” You remember to ask, one eyebrow arched.

His right arm lifts. “Spin,” he whispers. You step under his arm, then twirl. While you’re facing the opposite direction, he continues, “There. Do you see it?”

“Oh, my god.”

You do.

The bar stool you were just occupying is now filled by Seokmin’s great-uncle, Hajoon, while his new and much younger girlfriend, Yunhee, hovers near his shoulder. Even from this distance, you can see the look of abject distress on Soyeon’s face, totally unhidden by her attempt to seem engaged.

You return to your position in front of Seokmin, your hand accidentally landing on his bicep, rather than his shoulder. Flustered by the deceptive bulk there, you immediately scoot your palm back to where it belongs.

He leans in so that only you can hear him. It doesn’t feel necessary at all, given how loud the band’s horn section is, but you don’t recoil this time. 

“They had me trapped over by the appetizers,” he explains, low voice making you shiver involuntarily. “Every time he started a story with when I was your age, I wanted to point out that Yunhee hadn’t been born yet.”

You can’t help the laugh that erupts out of you and therefore can’t pull your head away from Seokmin’s ear in time to save him. Instead of wincing or complaining, he looks at you and breaks into laughter of his own as soon as your eyes meet. The effect doubles, and before you know it, both of you are teary-eyed.

“How the hell did you get away from him?”

It’s a feat you've never once managed. Uncle Hajoon’s inability to read a room is equal parts due to his horrible hearing and his tendency to never stop talking. Even if he did leave space in the conversation for you to excuse yourself, you’d never successfully get the message across.

Seokmin lifts his arm again but not for you. He takes his leave to spin himself, simpering as he goes, “That’s where Yunhee came in handy, actually. I didn’t know she had it in her, but she’s not as much of a dud as we initially thought.”

“Oh?”

“She told him that I should be able to dance with my girlfriend, and he shouldn’t keep me any longer.” He shrugs. “It didn’t seem like the time to correct her.”

All the heat in your body goes straight to your cheeks. Nonetheless, you attribute it to the dancing and choke out, “No royalties for me, then.”

“Not this time.” Seokmin shakes his head. “I said that Soyeon was trying to catch up with everyone and would love to hear his stories.”

You bite back a grin. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Maybe.” He smiles with every single one of his teeth. “But you’re free.”

“Surprisingly so. I haven’t felt the Eye of Sauron on me at all yet.” Just in case your statement serves as a jinx, you glance around the room for Seonmi. The tension you’ve been keeping in each one of your muscles slackens when, once again, your radar is blip-free.

“Dinner was supposed to start ten minutes ago. If I had to guess, she’s either leaving a scathing Yelp review or personally waterboarding the chef as we speak.”

“Both at the same time,” you counter, earning a wry smile. “She inherited your mom’s self-assuredness. If she believes she can, she will.”

After the pair of you dance through two more songs, the band breaks, and the hotel’s battalion of waiters come in, bearing domed, silver trays. Seokmin takes off in a hurry for your assigned table in the far corner of the ballroom, so famished that he barely remembers to tug you along behind him.

Through the meal and all its complimentary wine pairings, you do your best to focus on the conversation. Seokmin introduced you to the few people sitting with you that you haven’t had the occasion to meet yet. While he does what comes naturally to him, charming them with ease, you struggle for the first time to pay attention to him.

A few tables over, Seonmi sits down with her fiancé, joining the company of her parents; Soyeon and her date are there, too, leaving Seokmin out by design. Like an insane person, you can only watch her, rather than Seokmin’s blatant theft of bites from your plate. She laughs at whatever jokes her mother cracks, but you’d recognize that look of veiled angst anywhere. She isn’t happy, you realize. You can’t avoid the feeling that you’re the reason why she isn’t.

Time passes, somehow too quickly and too slowly. The plates are emptied, then cleared away by the wait staff — except for your half-empty glass, which is your third. Much like the other guests at your table, the joyful buzz you’d been feeling so far leaves, too.

All that’s left is you, Seokmin, and that ominous, storm cloud you can’t seem to shake.

“You’ll probably feel better if you talk to her.”

He’s always more observant than you give him credit for. You snap out of your zoned-out stare across the room in order to look at him. You frown. “I doubt it. She already looks pissed. Me parading my presence here despite her isn’t going to help anything.”

“Bambi,” Seokmin sighs, not impatient but gentle. “She’s not exactly warm, but she has always liked you. There’s literally no reason why she wouldn’t be happy to see you —”

You open your mouth to argue.

“— that happened over twenty years ago, and you really need to stop feeling guilty about it —”

You close your mouth, cross your arms self-consciously, and sink in your seat. Despite yourself, you glance over at him and catch the way he’s looking at you. He doesn’t need to say the words out loud for you to hear them.

It’s either the unspoken dare, his reassuring, soft-eyed smile, or all the blasted merlot that does you in. You’re not sure which of the three was the coup de grâce, and as you slink off towards her table, you realize it doesn’t matter. For one reason or another, you’ve decided that fear isn’t going to get the better of you this time.

Seonmi somehow senses you coming. Even without the band underscoring your movement, your timid steps across the mahogany parquet should’ve been impossible for anyone to pick up on. 

Must be an older sister thing, you think, being doomed to keep a perpetual eye on others. 

She doesn’t say anything when you slip into the chair next to her, which doesn’t bode well but isn’t a deal breaker, in and of itself. The important thing is that she doesn’t get up to leave. You tell yourself that this is a good sign. The knot in your stomach begs to differ, however.

Say something.

Say anything.

“Everything’s… lovely, Seonmi, seriously.” You gesture around you, smiling, but she only gives you a cursory look. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this one.”

Seonmi takes a sip of her cocktail — something bitter, the petty voice in your head assumes — and lets the corner of her mouth rise slightly. If it’s the closest thing you’ll get to a smile, you’ll take it. She hasn’t granted you a proper one in the decades since you got gum in her favorite Barbie’s hair.

“Thanks, kid,” she sighs, setting the drink back down on her personalized, cardboard coaster.

You can’t remember the last time she called you “Bambi”, let alone your real name. Just like Seokmin, you’ve always been a child to her. Apparently, you always will be, no matter what you do.

Her grip around the glass remains rigid, not unlike her overall posture. Condensation weeps under and around her manicured fingers, uninhibited. You watch those droplets soak through the coaster’s design, darkening her parents’ initials and wedding date, while you mull over whose turn it is to talk.

Ultimately, as is usually the case, Seonmi makes this decision for you. Without so much as a glance at you out of the corner of her eye, she muses, “It was a lot of work, getting all the details ironed out.”

You pick up on the subtext immediately. One of those details would’ve been the guest list; another, the invitations. Seokmin assumed it was all an accident and said as much to you no fewer than a hundred times, but this little comment from his sister blows his assurances to smithereens. 

Your exclusion wasn’t an accident at all.

Suddenly, somehow, the room is twenty degrees colder. You shoot a panicked glance over to where Seokmin was just sitting, wanting nothing more than to slink back to his warmth with your tail between your legs; but he’s not where you left him. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found.

Fuck.

“Ah,” is the best you can do.

And then the two of you sit awkwardly in silence while the seconds age in dog years.

You should’ve brought a drink over with you so you’d have something to do with your hands. Or your phone — except you left it on its charger, you idiot — or a time machine, so you can revoke your bullshit decision to walk over here in the first —

“He deserves that, don’t you think?”

The combined suddenness of her voice and the switch in topics makes you jolt ever so slightly. You try to pass it off, to pretend that you’re simply adjusting the skirt of your dress, but your efforts go unnoticed. Seonmi is too busy pointing casually ahead, drawing your focus to the center of the dance floor.

Like absolutely no one else is watching, Mr. Lee twirls around his laughing wife, his heart-shaped smile beaming so brightly that it almost hurts your eyes. The love of his life has to hold one of her hands over her mouth to keep her laughter from bursting out; the other hand is raised with the rest of that arm, allowing her husband to spin himself underneath. When he’s halfway through, she surprises him, drops her arm down, and embraces him fully, giggling all the while.

It almost makes you tear up — Mr. Lee’s unabashed, silly love, and how much it reminds you of his spitting-image of a son; the way Seokmin’s mother’s eyes sparkle in the same blissful, radiant way his do. Maybe the same can’t be said for his older sisters, but it’s abundantly clear where Seokmin came from. It’s even clearer where he should end up.

“Yes,” you breathe, and it almost sounds like a laugh because of course, he does. Before you can stop yourself, you ask, “Is that really a question?”

No, you realize too late, it’s bait.

Without batting an eye, she counters, “Is it really so hard for you to let him have that?”

Seonmi turns her head to look you dead in the eye. Confusingly, despite her words, there’s nothing in her tone or gaze that reads like malice. If anything, the slight furrow of her brow shouts concern.

Your mind is spinning too fast to keep up with. Whatever her next move is, you’re too dizzy now to see it coming and too disoriented to follow it. With the knot in your stomach tightening further, you stammer, “Is — what?”

“God,” Seonmi drops her face into her hands. “You don’t get it, do you?”

A fish on dry land, all you seem to know how to do is open and close your mouth. You may not be literally flailing, but with the state your mind is in, you may as well start.

“Seokmin loves love.” 

She says each of these words slowly, like she’s trying to hammer each nail through a thick skull. 

“It’s the one thing he’s wanted most since he was a kid, yet I can count on one hand the number of short-term relationships he’s been in. He doesn’t ever bring anyone home to meet us; he doesn’t bring anyone to weddings, or parties, or holidays; he just brings you.”

Of course, you’ve been right there through all of his situationships. He’s always scant on details when they end — and you’ve never pressed for any — but you know better than anyone that nothing has stuck long-term. 

You’ve never thought about how odd this really is, but with Seonmi spelling it out for you now, you can’t come up with a single, good reason why someone as objectively incredible as Seokmin can’t make these things work — or why, even as you rack your brain, the only constant you can find in his life is you.

She glares now, as if she’s daring you to speak; as if you’ve got anything she’d deem worth adding. The bulldozer revs up again, whether you’re ready or not: “You’ve always been the only person he saves space for, whether or not there’s a place for you, and he has no room left in his life for someone to love him like that —” 

Seonmi points again to her parents, who are circling slowly on the dance floor, talking softly to one another. 

“So, what is it? Do you truly not see what he’s missing, or are you choosing not to because you like his attention?”

Your eyes burn with tears, but you can’t let them fall, and you can’t wrap your head around why that is. 

Who are you hiding them from: Seonmi or yourself?

The longer she stares at you, the muddier it gets. You don’t want her to be right. You don’t want to be the kind of person she’s describing; but there’s something awful whispering in the back of your mind, saying that you might be. 

You’ve left every relationship you’ve been in, telling everyone who asks in the aftermath that you like being on your own better. But that’s bullshit. It’s not your own company that you keep when you’re single; it Seokmin’s. 

He makes sure that you never spend a day feeling alone, that he’s always available over the phone in the rare times he’s not physically with you. As his best friend, he treats you better than every single one of your exes ever has. Like you’re worth more than anyone else will credit you.

What kind of friend are you if you feel relieved whenever his relationships expire?

Seonmi’s hand drops, landing half-heartedly clenched on the tabletop. Just the same, her voice drops until it’s almost a whisper. 

“I am begging you,” she pleads, eyes narrowing desperately as they search yours. “If you don’t want him, someone else will. Please just —  get the hell out of their way.”

By the time you reach the elevator, all you’re left with is a blur. You’ve already forgotten how the conversation ended, or which one of you was the first to get up. If she said anything else to you, it was drowned out by your own hammering pulse and a looping chorus of voices validating your biggest fear, stating in no uncertain terms that you don’t belong.

You’re shaking when you reach your floor. Heels clicking under unsteady footsteps, you make for room 218; and as you go, you shove your hand into the well-concealed pocket of your dress for the keycard Seokmin forgot to grab himself on the way out earlier.

He’s certainly not in the room when you finally step inside, although you have no clue where he’s gone. It’s for the best. The door closes behind you, and with no one to see it happen, you burst into tears.

All rational thought flies out the window, shaken off by the tornado of utter confusion tearing through your brain. You grab your suitcase, needing nothing more than to be anywhere else, and begin haphazardly throwing your things back inside of it.

Why did you still come with him, knowing it wouldn’t end well? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told him no; he would’ve listened if you truly meant it.

If you didn’t mean it when you initially tried to squirrel your way out of this, why not? Was it just your friend asking sincerely that won you over without a fight; or was it because you knew, deep down, it’d hurt to see him bring someone else?

Why would it hurt?

The answer to that will crack the foundation of everything the two of you have built, but only if you admit it to yourself. It can’t threaten you if you don’t say it out loud, don’t make it real.

So, you won’t. 

You’ll bury it deeply enough to forget about, repour the concrete, and tiptoe through the rest of your life with your best friend still at your side.

That is, if your friendship survives the weekend — rather, your sudden departure from it — at all.

“Halmoni, it’s time to go back to your hotel, okay?” 

He coos this, as if he’s pleading with a toddler at bedtime, because that’s exactly what it feels like to wrangle the drunk, 80-year-old clinging to his arm.

Physically, she needs to hold onto Seokmin to keep herself steady. Mentally, she’s ready to run and has made several attempts to do just that when she thinks his guard is down. It’s no wonder the hotel staff cornered him and begged him for help; she’s too wily for those who don’t know her.

The manager had at least done him the courtesy of hailing a cab. It sits out front, warm and waiting, while he shepherds his grandmother through the lobby.

“— and another thing!” She slurs.

There is never not another thing. She shouldn’t bother concluding her sentences in the first place; she’s never done talking.

“I told your sister — I said, Sunny —”

Seonmi, he dares to presume, although he doesn’t dare to correct her.

“— you can’t have stuff like this —” She gestures animatedly, albeit vaguely around her. “— in places like this and expect retirees to pay for it! I said — oh, what did I say? — Ah, I said, ‘find me the cheapest motel in the area, or I’ll be staying in your room with you’ —”

Her kitten heels hit the brick outside with an angry thwump.

Seokmin can’t help himself. “She didn’t go for that?”

“No!” His grandmother squawks. 

The driver sees the ball of a woman wobbling his way and quickly exits the cab, skirts around it, and flings the back door open for her. 

“I can’t imagine why, halmoni,” he lies through his teeth, which shine down on her in his best, least sincere smile. “You’re a blast in a glass.”

She roars with laughter, even while two grown adults work together to pour her into the backseat without bumping her head on the doorframe. “Glast in a blass!”

“Exactly. Can you —?”

He gives up before he finishes voicing his request; it’s no use. Instead, he bends down to hug her and finagles the buckle of her seatbelt while she’s too distracted to fight him off. That click is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, after the clunk of the door shutting her in.

By the time Seokmin turns to the cab driver, his grandmother is fully slumped in her seat, pilled peacoat rising and falling with every wine-laced breath.

“I am so sorry.” He sighs, which devolves into a sheepish laugh, and fishes all of the cash out of his pocket. No tip could possibly cover the emotional toll of this ordeal, so he does his best and gives the driver everything he has.

The driver’s eyes widen. Seokmin gets the impression that he doesn’t quite understand the task he’s undertaking. 

Poor bastard.

Seokmin continues, “My grandfather is at the inn already; he didn’t feel well enough to come here, but he’ll be ready to get her inside once you drop her off.”

“Sounds easy enough.” The driver smiles and holds out his hand to shake. 

Seokmin reciprocates, and he declines to explain just how wrong that assessment is. He thanks the man and chirps a quick goodbye to his grandmother before rushing back inside.

Walking into the ballroom, he hopes to find you and Seonmi laughing about whatever misunderstanding had gotten in your way before. At the very least, he expects you to still be sitting next to each other at the same table. That would be good enough, he thinks; he could assist in repairing the situation from there.

The problem, it seems, is beyond his help. Neither one of you occupies the same table. If his quick scan tells him anything, you’re not even in the same room.

No matter which way he turns, he can’t spot you. His sister, on the other hand, is near the far corner, having what looks like a nightmarish conversation with their parents. There are approximately five billion things Seokmin would rather do than get in the middle of that, but you don’t have your phone on you, and he has no other way to find out where you went.

Above the heads of the two women, Seokmin’s father catches sight of his approach. They lock eyes; there’s something insane in his father’s gaze. The older man shakes his head, mouthing “no.”

Seokmin stops short, raises his hands with the palms up to get across his confusion, and mouths back, “Bambi?”

In response, his father extends a single finger and points upwards. He then makes a shooing motion with his hand. His wife and daughter are so engrossed in their argument that neither of them catches the pantomime or Seokmin’s quick exit, back the way he came.

On the elevator ride upstairs, Seokmin worries. The most likely explanation is that you went to find your phone so that you could find him – but you haven’t texted or called him in the time he’s been looking for you, so he supposes it isn’t likely after all. 

Maybe, he thinks, the wine caught up to you. You’re not as strong a drinker as you think you are. While he walks down the hallway to room 218, he steels himself. Even though you both hate it, he’s ready to hold your hair if he walks in and finds you with your head in the toilet. That dress looks too good on you not to be expensive; he’d rather talk you out of your embarrassment tomorrow than have you shell out for dry-cleaning.

You didn’t deadbolt the door behind you, which strikes him as odd. In fact, you didn’t even close it properly; it isn’t latched. All he has to do is tap on it for the door to open.

“Bambi?” He calls out before stepping inside entirely, thinking it’s only decent to confirm in advance that he’s not an intruder. “Sorry for disappearing. I had to pour my grandmother into a cab – it was exactly as awful as it sounds.”

The faint rustling sound he hears isn’t coming from the bathroom, which is both dark and unoccupied. Part of him wants to take this as a good sign, but the rest of him wonders if he’s walking in on a burglary. That flicker of fear is followed by a stupid sense of validation: 

You always laugh at him when he cites this as his reason for choosing the bed closest to the door; you claim it’s statistically unlikely. Finally being able to say “I told you so” after a robbery wouldn’t make either of your belongings magically reappear, of course. That said, it might make him feel a little better.

But the figure rooting through your suitcase isn’t a bandit at all. It’s you with your coat on.

“Um,” he starts, unintentionally startling you. “What is….” 

His question peters out when you look up at him. There are broken mascara tracks down your cheeks, as if you tried to wipe them off without actually looking at them. Above them, your wide eyes are wet, like you’re seconds away from crying all over again. Even worse, you’re trembling.

Seokmin’s only instinct is to reach for you. Before he can wrap his arms around you, you jerk away from him. “Please don’t.”

So, he stops, though he doesn’t understand why. This is quite literally the only time in your life that you’ve pushed him away.

“What’s going on?” Ideally, he’d project calm at a time like this. He just sounds desperate. “What happened with Seonmi?”

“She — um, she didn’t — It wasn’t that bad; I’m just… You know how sensitive I get when I drink wine.”

Like a switch flips, a half-hearted smile takes over the bottom half of your face. It’s not real; if it was, your eyes would light up and crinkle at the corners. Whatever that look is, it’s bullshit.

Seokmin gestures to your suitcase, where everything you brought with you has been unceremoniously shoved. “Sensitive enough to, what, run away? No. I’m not buying it. She said something — or did something — to make you this upset. Bambi, what happened?”

His urgency is selfish, he knows it. Seonmi’s always been way too intuitive for her own good. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking; how god-awful he is at acting platonic.

He tries — has been trying, for a long time now — to shake these feelings off because he knows you’re not emotionally available. Because he knows who he’s supposed to be for you, and how devastating it would be if he threw your friendship away.

That devastation is right in front of him now; and it’ll  push you out of his life forever if he doesn’t shut it down. He has to get in front of it.

You strike first, though. “Seokmin, why didn’t you bring anyone else?”

There are two ways for him to interpret that question: with the emphasis on anyone, meaning not you; or as an escape route. For your sake, he chooses the latter.

“She gave me a plus-one, not a plus-two,” he says softly.

Despite his tone, it must hit you like a punch. You nod curtly, once. “Got it. Basic math. Thanks, Seokmin; that was never my strongest subject.”

Foot, meet mouth.

You immediately set back to work, reaching for the lid of your suitcase to close and zip. Before he thinks once, let alone twice, his hand darts out and flattens against the mesh inner pocket on the top, preventing you from doing so.

“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “Not happening.”

You don’t scowl at him the way he expects, nor do you even stop to look at him. It’s far worse than that; your eyes start swimming, focused helplessly on your suitcase. 

When you speak, your voice cracks. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place. I knew that this invitation shit wasn’t an accident; I knew I wasn’t welcome to —”

“— You came anyway.” Seokmin doesn’t mean to snap at you, but the point is moot. Softening at the edges, he quickly continues, “And I’m glad that you did because I don’t want to be here with ‘anyone else’.”

It’s not the whole truth, so it may as well be a lie. You know him too well for him to get away with it; it was stupid of him to try. Your head turns, and the slight narrow of your eyes says it all.

I triple-dog dare you to tell me the truth.

This fork in the road has two dead ends. His only options are to do just that or double down and lie straight to your face, while you see straight through him. Either option pulls the pin, he figures, so it’s no longer a question of who gets hurt; it’s who gets hurt worse.

Seokmin jumps on the grenade.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else!”

It comes out too loudly, startling you. In a way, it’s angry, too. He wishes could project that anger onto Seonmi for starting shit, as usual, but the person he’s maddest at is himself for putting you both in this position.

For the first time ever, he can’t decipher the expression on your face. He’d shove his foot into his mouth to try and keep himself quiet, but his adrenaline is firing on all cylinders, and he can’t seem to stop shouting.

“And I’m really fucking sorry to say it because I know you don’t want to hear it, not from me or anyone else. So, you can leave, alright? I’m not going to stop you.”

The force of the surprise almost knocks the air out of him, so quick that Seokmin can’t process what’s happening until his back is flush to the wall behind him — until your hands, flat against his white button-up, curl to grip the fabric, and you kiss him so hard that he sees stars.

You’re surprised too, it seems. When you pull away, chest heaving, you freeze in the same way he does. Eyes searching the other’s, unsure of what to do now that twenty-plus years’ worth of boundaries have been blown to bits.

You whisper, “Are you still sorry?”

Of the five million feelings swelling inside of him — fear, kind of; joy, yes; fucked up by your blown-out pupils, definitely — regret isn’t one of them.

Actually…

He cups your face in his hands like water from a spring, drinks down the sight of you in this new and perfect light. “I’m only sorry that it took me this long to tell you,” he confesses before kissing you back twice as hard.

You’d ask Seokmin to pinch you and prove to you that you’re not dreaming, but the fear you feel at the thought of waking up is too overwhelming. 

Even if it wasn’t, he can’t help you, can he? 

His hands are far too busy.

Your pretty dress is long gone now, having been shucked off and tossed somewhere out of sight. In its place, it’s Seokmin’s body that now drapes over yours, warm in touch and tone, like molten gold. 

His middle and marriage fingers curl inside you, working you up again; and all you can do is cling desperately to his hair, whimper, and wait for the fall.

“I take back what I said earlier,” he murmurs between nips and kisses at your neck.

You can’t ask him to elaborate. You’re too close to careening over the edge for the second time tonight; too busy babbling fucking nonsense.

His simper against your throat reverberates all the way down, lights up your every nerve in tandem like a switchboard. “Only an idiot would tell you to be less expressive.”

The pad of his thumb swirls over your clit; its movement synchronizes with his middle finger inside of you, targeting your weak spot. He presses down on that spongy patch of nerves, and your hips buck involuntarily, a hallmark of your body begging for you while your words fail.

“You were right, though.” 

You summon all your concentration. “I’m always right,” you counter. Seokmin pulls his mouth away from the underside of your jaw just to look at you pointedly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

He picks up the pace of his ministrations, pulling no punches. You’re teetering on the ledge with no real ability to lift your own neck; your head crashes back against the pillow as you wail, clenching and gushing around his fingers.

“I do know how sensitive you get,” he snickers before slipping his fingers from you and sweeping down to kiss you sweetly.

The ringing in your ears has barely subsided, but you’ve decided not to take anymore of his teasing laying down. Slipping your fingers from his hair, you move your hands to his shoulders; and with whatever muscle control you still maintain, you flip him off of you, onto his back.

“How long —” 

You climb over his lap and straddle him, placing your palms flat against his chest. It’s as much a show of dominance as it is a carefully disguised trick for balance. 

“— have you been waiting to say that?”

Caught red handed, Seokmin shoots you that trademark, heart-shaped smile. His cheeks were already flushed from the effort he just expended on you; that perfect pink only deepens when he blushes and laughs, “What, you think I can’t come up with killer lines in the heat of the moment?”

You scratch your nails gently down the lines of his abdominal muscles. “Nope,” you purr.

Sitting up on his elbows, Seokmin tilts his head to the side and narrows his dark eyes at you. You’re nowhere near used to seeing him look at you like this, like you’re something to be devoured. The feeling of being wanted so badly makes your stomach flip.

“Give me some credit, won’t you?” He asks, voice low. “You’re a knockout; you’re naked in front of me for the first time; and it’s a miracle I can talk at all when I feel this concussed.”

When you lean in, he licks his lips expectantly. You’re close enough to kiss him, of course, but you stop a few millimeters shy of your mark and watch him fight the urge to pout. His eyes search yours, almost pleadingly.

“Is that why you’re still not naked?”

Seokmin’s next move is to reach for the black briefs he’s still got on, but you stop him, encircling each of his wrists with your hands.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut with a patronizing shake of your head. “You’re fired. I’m in control now.”

If the little sigh he lets out is any indication, he is very much on board with your self-promotion.

He takes your cue and reels himself in, allowing you to move further down his body, your fingertips hooking under his elastic waistband and tugging as you go. When his length finally springs free, you duck your head to take him into your mouth, beyond eager to feel his weight on your tongue.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, eyelids fluttering, while you swirl your tongue around his head. “Feels s-so —”

The rest of his sentence gets stuck in his throat; you take what you can of him down your own throat, working whatever remains with your hand. 

Seokmin wants so badly to watch, you know he does, but he’s sensitive, too. His head tips back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open.

It’s messy, the spit dribbling down your chin and the sound brought forth by the suction of your mouth around him. The obscenity of it all spurs you on. Nothing inspires you quite like Seokmin’s breathy whines and low moans, though. Above all else, it’s his reaction to you that slicks the inside of your thighs.

You’d give him the ending he deserves, right down the back of your throat, but you feel his fingertips graze your shoulder, beckoning you to look up at him.

Voice rough, he pleads, “Come here.”

With his steadying hands on you, you move back into your original position with your bent knees on either side of him. You immediately spot the indent his teeth have left on his lower lip, which is now slightly swollen. Delicately, you brush your thumb over the mark. “Oh, you’re a goner.”

Seokmin looks at you pointedly. Though you tease, you’re even worse off: drunk on the taste of him, as much as the sight of him underneath you, wanting you just as badly.

“Alright, alright,” you concede. “I am, too.” 

The hand you use to wave dismissively at him then reaches down between your thighs, fingers wrapping around his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

“But I’m taking you down with me.”

And you do.

So thoroughly that you barely recall him staggering off to the bathroom when all is said and done, the wash cloth he returns with to clean you up, or the way you slump into his waiting arms before promptly falling asleep.

You sleep so soundly, in fact, that you don’t stir when the sun blares through the open curtains. Likewise, when Seokmin carefully maneuvers himself out of the tangle of your limbs and places your head on a real pillow instead, you’re none the wiser.

What finally gets to you is the clatter of the expensive, hotel-issued shampoo clattering against the floor of the shower, echoing off the tile like a sonic boom. You sit bolt upright in bed, staring bleary-eyed in the direction of the bathroom. 

As if on cue, Seokmin pokes his head out of the doorway to see if you managed to sleep through the noise. Damp hair splays over his forehead, hanging just as loosely as his lazily-knotted bathrobe. If you weren’t still too sleepy to function, you’d love nothing more than to grab him by that tie and drag him back to bed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Bambi,” he coos, though his mouth is full of both toothpaste and a toothbrush in a distinctly greener shade of blue than usual.

You merely point at his mouth with a half-powered look of distress, otherwise unable to put your suspicion into words. He doesn’t get it; he glances down at his chest, looking for what he assumes is a stray glob of paste.

When you finally do speak, it’s a prayer: “Please tell me that’s not mine.”

Seokmin blinks at you, then down his nose at the toothbrush he’s using. He cocks his head to the side, opens his mouth to assure you it isn’t, and finally, when the realization makes his eyes widen, he groans.

You wail, “Noooooo!”

Memories of your last trip together clash before your mind — specifically, attempting to navigate a drug store in a foreign language while you shopped for the replacement toothbrush Seokmin is currently holding.

Ears bright red with embarrassment, he ducks back into the bathroom. Immediately, you hear a rush of water from the tap, which nearly drowns out his feeble cry of “I’m sorry!”

“I know it’s an honest mistake, but how do you make it twice?” 

You collapse back onto the pillows and bury your face in your palms; and you stay that way, even when you hear him padding softly over to you. The mattress shifts under his weight as he makes his way, one knee at a time, until you feel him looming over you. His hands reach out and gently pull yours from your face.

Before you can get any ideas, Seokmin flattens himself on top of you; a weighted blanket, smelling like vanilla and spearmint. He folds his arms across your chest and props his chin up on the top of his right wrist, bright eyes sparkling as he peers up at you.

Suddenly, you find it very difficult to be annoyed with him. The worst part is that none of this is by design. He always just looks at you this way, not to get out of trouble but because you’re you.

Your hand reaches out of its own accord and brushes the remaining damp strands off his forehead. When your touch lingers, Seokmin leans into it, warming your palm with his cheek.

“Hey,” you say, after failing to come up with anything better.

He beams. “Hi.”

“Why are we awake at this hour?”

That smile of his evaporates slowly, giving way to a grimace you’ve seen before. “Seungcheol and Mingyu want to meet up at the ski lodge before the post-brunch crowd gets there,” he explains. “And I told my parents we’d get breakfast with them first, since yesterday was… well, mostly a disaster.”

“And it will conveniently provide you with time to think of a way out of snowboarding?” You chuckle quietly and pat his cheek.

Seokmin shakes his head firmly, then stretches his neck enough to kiss you.

“No,” he mumbles defiantly against your lips. “I never back down from a triple-dog dare.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

I saw the Dad! Stanley, could you make the Dad! Stanford one? Like how his reaction come back after 30 years saw Reader already become responsible adult

-🐈‍⬛

Ford kept a picture of you -his life’s greatest achievement- in his pocket at all times during his time in the multiverse, reminding him of who he had waiting for him back home when he felt as though he was at his limit.

Being a father was never on the docket but the moment you entered his life he dedicated himself to raising you as best as he could, even going so far as to do extensive amounts of research in preparation for any and every vital moment of your life.

You had became a pivotal part of his life and made everything he did even more important for he was doing it for you and the future you’d live in. He wanted you to grow up prepared for anything and everything life would throw at you, along with how to handle yourself for the inevitable day where he couldn’t be with you anymore. (He hates it as much as you did)

He commemorates everything you did and dedicated parts of his journals to you and your growth or things that you did that made him laugh. (You wore his coat once and Ford was fighting the demons within him known as cuteness aggression because of how it swamped your tiny form.)

An excerpt:

‘They look at me like I’m something and I’m worried that one day they’ll grow up and not view me as such when they see what I’ve done when they slept soundly in their crib, but all I do, I do for them.’

However this desire to watch you grow and be apart of your important developmental stages would be cut short when he fell into the portal when you were just 8 years old.

His last words before the portal closed entirely to Stanley were: ‘no! Y/n! I haven’t done everything I’ve wanted to do with them yet! Go trick or treating with them on Summerween! Go Fishing! Watch them grow up! Stanley, don’t leave them alone, they really hate being alone!’

And raise you Stanley did as he would try his hardest to keep your memory of Stanford alive and well, thinking it was the best he could do after accidentally taking his brother from you. He’d even make a whole album for when Ford comes back from the day he fell into the portal.

Stanley didn’t miss a single moment to capture you doing something adorable (dressed up as a paranormal detective for the summerween he took you out on) or similar to Ford himself (becoming curious about about the mystery of Gravity falls after an incident with a bunny demon and even making a series of journals yourself)

Stanley made sure to capture every little thing he could from you helping him run the shack, to you making your first friends, your little experiments on how much food Soos could stuff in his face without getting full. Which was fun until he always threw up.

You were so much like Ford it hurt Stanley to look at you sometimes because all he could see was his brother in you that he had to look away sometimes, and he knew that Ford would be so fucking proud of the person you grew up to be but also knew that he would hate himself for not being there for it all.

So when the day came when Ford finally retired home, his first words as he stepped out of the portal were; ‘where’s y/n?’

Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Stanley could only watch as you, a full grown adult of 38, stepped forward with tears in your eyes when meeting face to face with the man who raised you before his brother took over, reaching out to him whispering ‘dad?’

Ford was shocked to say the least when he looked over at this adult calling him dad, only for his brain to work fast and connect the dots as he pulls out the picture of you as a child from his coat pocket and made the connection that you and the smiling child in the picture he held close to his heart were one in the same.

You were now all grown up and he wasn’t there to see it happen with his own eyes, something that broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he never got the chance to see it himself! The coat that hung off of your frame was his, he could clearly tell but it didn’t swamp your form like it use to, it suited you and the makeshift journal Ford saw you had clutched in your hand and knew you were his child in more ways then one.

You had his curiosity and his need to understand the unknown to great but sometimes dangerous depths, god he missed you so fucking much, his sweet child and his sweet child you’ll always will be in his eyes as he watched as you quickly walked towards him and hugged his frozen form tightly as you wept in his shoulder.

‘Dad.’ You said. ‘I’m all grown up.’

Ford chuckled weakly as he too found himself unable to keep the tears at bay, ‘I can see that sweetie pie,’ he said as he held you tightly against him. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to see it.’ He adds knowing that this will be one of his life regrets until the day he died, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use this time to catch up with you and learn all about you all over again.

‘It’s okay.’ You reassured him, clinging onto him as though he’d disappeared again. ‘It’ll give me an excuse to talk your ear off about all my expeditions, my theories and my thoughts on everything that’s been going off here.’

‘They really are cut from the very same cloth as you.’ Stanley told Stanford as he watched you tuck Dipper and Mabel into bed that night. ‘They’re smart and even graduated from a prestigious college at the top of their class, they were even valedictorian just like you back in highschool, but they came back to gravity falls because they wanted to dedicated themselves to helping me in getting you back.’ He adds as Stanford looks at his twin with tears in his eyes.

‘And I wasn’t there to watch them walk across that stage…’ he mutters and Stanley pulls out a photo that he had taken during your graduation ceremony and gave it to Ford who could only smile weakly as he took you in. You had blossomed so much when he was away and it broke Ford even more when he realised that he knew little to nothing about you now.

‘I’m such a terrible father.’ He tells Stanley who grips him by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye.

‘Hey! You are not a terrible father, they love you so much that they stay up late at night trying to decipher you work in hopes of finding a lead so that they could have their father back in their life. So don’t you dare say that about yourself when they’ve nothing but miss their father for the past 30 years!’ Stanley scolded him just as you walked into the hallway after bidding dipper and Mabel goodnight.

You heard them but decided not to speak up about it, after all today had been quite emotionally exhausting and all you wanted to do was sleep. ‘I’m going to bed, good night dad, good night uncle Stan.’

‘Hold it you.’ Stanley said as he walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling away as he smiled at you. ‘Night pipsqueak.’ You smiled back before looking over at Ford, wanting to go to him and Stan could see the conflict in your eyes and pushed you towards his twin before retreating to his room.

‘So I was thinking that we could go monster hunting…you know like father and child. I’ve been trying to track down this dragon like creature that’s said to live on the highest mountain of gravity falls since its conception.’ You said awkwardly as Ford smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

‘I’d be glad too sweetheart, you don’t have to ask me to spend time with you because I’ll always want to spend time with my child.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but smile widely as you hugged him tightly again. Needless to say you and Ford made up for lost time in quick succession as you both ran away from being burnt alive by the massive dragon that was originally thought to be a myth.

[raytoebiter]

viv. kick me (written work)

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It's 4:37PM when the harsh beams of sunlight finally mellow down to a mere soft glow that blankets the whole interior in a delicate color. It's also 4:37PM when you finally reach the café and the bell chimes emit a pleasant noise you're accustomed to.

“Oh, dear [Name]!” A voice laced with so much delight greets you, and you can only return it with a grin of your own, “how was school today?”

You slipped the snoopy slippers on, already dragging yourself over to your grandma whose arms are prepared wide and open for the hug that you've always looked forward to.

It never fails to soothe the tension in your shoulders when she rubs a particular spot.

“School was fine,” you sighed absentmindedly.

“'Is that so? Speaking of school, where's your friend?”

Your gut squirms in annoyance, frowning at the way her eyes spark up so childishly despite being adorned with wrinkles.

Friend, my ass.

Irked, a groan left your lips, “he’s probably gonna be here soon.”

The word, ‘soon’ sounds so bitter in your mouth. You just fought with the guy earlier at morning classes because–who the fuck even throws a dildo at someone's face!?

Your face burns, unaware of your grandmother chuckling in satisfaction until she's already pulling you near to the counter, “I'll make you hot chocolate, and after this, you can turn the sign over.”

Okay, do not think about Scaramouche. Do not think.

You gulped, urging the damn Incident away from your weary mind, “swiss miss?”

She grinned with a blink, “of course! Now, hurry up and sit! you’re gonna have a long day today, missy.”

Save me, you clench your jaw, god, save me from this 6-Hour-Shitshow..

Sighing, you deliberately and slowly place the phone back to the counter, head tilting abnormally to peek at the entrance of the café—and there he is. All in his glory, the Almighty Twink-A-Fuck.

You gulp. Deep breaths. Step. Walk. Step.

“Hey,” you half-assedly smile, lightly knocking onto one of the square windows on the door.

His hair bounces when he perks up from his phone, imperceptible widened eyes catching onto yours before it shifts to those narrowed eyes you're more accustomed to.

“Why the fuck are your doors locked.” Not a question. You shrug, already reaching out to the lock.

“Cats often get in here because they know how to open doors,” a pseudo smile reaches your lips, sweetness lacing your voice, “and ‘sides, I forgot you were coming.”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. A bell chime fills the silence, and you step over to the side as he enters.

A bright shine catches your peripheral as Scaramouche enters into the café without a care in the world, and holy–

Is that a fucking porsche!?

You abruptly whip your head to Scaramouche—who seems way too busy absorbing the interior of your café as if the asshole hasn't already been here a week ago—before whipping it back to the Shiny Glamorous Porsche. Because, what the fuck.

Okay, listen. You're not exactly an expert in The Damn Art of Cars but a Porsche had been on your wish list for years. God forbid the amount of times you've ratted off of your grandmother's ears as a child about how much you've salivated over damn metas and engines. At this point, you'd probably rather fuck a vehicle than a perso–

—A gasp. Then, horror. Absolute horror dawning in those indigo eyes. And.. and mirth? The fuck–

“You do realize you just said those outloud, right,” he deadpanned, voice tinted with indifference and amusement. Like what you said was the most appropriate thing. I mean, then again, you've said far worse things, but god–in the café? Where your dearest grandmother is quite literally just meters above your head? And could potentially hear you despite the thick hardwood floors?

That thought sends electricity to your body.

Pathetically, you sputtered, alternating between defending yourself, telling him to shut up because your grandmother is literally just upstairs and reasoning that, hey, can't you just let a girl nerd out? Only to end up giving him the Fuck-You finger when not even a coherent sentence ended up leaving your lips after a mere 3 minutes of full on panicking.

..Yeah, get that, motherfucker.

“Okay,” he drawls facetiously, after seconds of radio silence, “So, you want to fuck my car. Cool. My car's cool too.”

I swear I will haunt this asshole to death when I become a ghost.

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up. I don't want to hear it. Shut up.” resigned, your hand points to a double boiler, as he lets his gaze unceremoniously follow it.

Again, he snorts at the quaint sound of water boiling.

Then, he turns back to you with a sneer and a knowing lint in those fucking goddamn eyes, “well, whatever. I'll be in your care then, fruitcake.”

–

“Number 12 on the counter, please!”

Okay. So, even though you thought the Twink Fucker implied to be an absolute nuisance roughly three hours ago, he's actually surprisingly decent in the field. He knows how to do a few latte art, can brew an Americano correctly at least, and is mildly, overall experienced at it.

And admittedly, the way he moves around the area would what you call a fucking graceful dance shitshow. Listen, you're not one to exaggerate, but hell if you don't admit that the asshole frankly looks like he's dancing around while brewing damn espressos.

(You can feel bile gathering up in your esophagus when you ponder more over the damn poise he has.)

Presently, it's been three hours since the shift had started, and you've done nothing but scrutinising the Twink-Ass with keen eyes as your grandmother had given you the task to.

And embarrassingly enough, it seems you're not the only one, guessing with how much habitués has been ogling the mysterious new face at the counter. You're pretty sure that neither of them has the balls to ask, considering they linger quite a bit longer in favor of inspecting the asshole’s face instead of asking for his damn number.

However, as time ticked by, an old lady whom you recognize as that one lady who sells adult toys on a sidewalk manages the balls to ask. However, when she does ask, she doesn't ask the asshole. No, no, she comes to you. With the most expectant shine in her eyes and a girl’s name rolling off of her tongue.

And you, who have decided to be the kindest, offer the old lady 10 numbers with a note that you managed to write behind Scaramouche’s back, “tell your granddaughter to spam his phone; he likes those things in a woman,” followed by a wink. It's clear she's a bit perplexed, but she nods anyway.

That's revenge for the fucking dildo, asshole.

Four hours pass, and the café finally settles down as the end of the shift steadily approaches. And it's then that Scaramouche finally and unfortunately breaks the streak of not talking to you for four hours straight.

He approaches with the same pseudo smile he offers to the customers and with a patronising tone, he asks, “so? how’d I do?”

Absolute dogshit. I don't want you here.

“I’ll send my feedback to grandma later,” you sardonically smiled, avoiding the question as you tilt your head to the short stack of papers on the rickety table.

His attention flitted between you and the paper all the while having his lips pursed into that smile before dropping his facade and clicking his tongue.

“What? Don't tell me you were expecting flattery,” you snorted.

In return, he grimaced, “ew, god, no. I don't consider your flattery to be worthy enough to brood over.”

Your brows raised, “careful, now. your job is quite literally in my hands right now.”

The grimace only deepened before it twisted to a scowl, “I'll just find a new one if you ever do fire me from here.”

“As if anyone would ever accept your nasty ass.”

“Your nanny did.”

“That's ‘cause she doesn't know what you're like in school.”

Incredulity coursed through his features before chuckling, the sound itself bitter, “you sound like someone that I really fucking hate.”

“You do hate me,” you answered, simple and true. Not that you were ever bothered by it; you hated him too.

Then, in a fleeting moment, his gaze flickered to you, a confused glimmer in them as his brows raised the slightest bit as he reluctantly replied, “no, I fucking don't?”

The fuck?

Your stomach twisted, feeling the familiar sting in the back of your throat, “what?”

“Not as much as I hate that someone, anyway,” his voice silent yet so full of resentment before a newly complacent tone replaces it, “Also, I dislike you, asswipe.”

Oh, okay. You frowned. What's the difference? Did the word, ‘hate’ have a much deeper meaning? Weren't they just the same?

“..Well, I hate you,” you don't miss the way his face dropped to a deadpan, “that one's really obvious.”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter with an elbow propped on one of the sturdy machines, “really fucking obvious.”

This time, you respond with a glare.

In return, you get a disgusting tongue stuck out to you before he annoyingly decides to spare you the time and gazes off somewhere to the distance instead–blissfully ignoring your glares of daggers and muttered profanities.

Of course the peace doesn't last long.

"What's up with you and fucking Porsches anyway?"

A sigh, "please just shut up."

Then surprisingly, he does shut up. He did scoff though. Your gaze moved to the clock just right above the entrance.

9:47PM. Two hours left before your bedtime. You could wait it out and send the asshole home. But then again.. maybe you could overwork the asshole.

Under the guise of reluctance, you break the silence, “I’ll go clean up. We’ll switch from here, and then you can go home after.”

His head snapped to you, slightly tilted, “switch?”

“Yeah, switch. You go help grandma upstairs and I'll take care of the stuff from here. And, I'm pretty sure the pastries will be here at around..” you shot a glance at the clock again, noting the time, “twelve minutes from now, so off you go.”

As if contemplating, he narrowed his eyes before a smirk tugged at his lips and he tauntly drawls, “sure, whatever you say, fruitcake.”

A vein throbs in your temple. You could handle other names like dumbass, ass-kisser (???), fuckwipe, dickwad and other things you'd prefer not thinking about but this? It.. just sounds so..

“..Annoying. Fucking annoying.”

He rolls his eyes with a snort, already turning on his heels and heading to the staff room, “tell me something that's new, asswipe.”

"Back door's the exit for the staff here, by the way!"

The door clicked to a close, and you briefly wondered if he heard you or not.

..Well, nevertheless, you hope he wakes up with the most fucked up body ache known to mankind.

───────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

|| previous episode - next episode. ||

───〃★tunes of your heartbeat masterlist

synopsis: in which your fate somehow gets entangled into a messy jumble between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. the question is; did the curse work?

taglist (50/50): @toekissers , @raineyun @localscarasimp , @potteraep , @shutingstar , @feiherp , @scaraenthusiast1 @dazqa , @wraithisd3adinside , @x-hihihi-x , @court-jester-stuff , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @trulyylee , @jayzioxx , @featuredtofu @kazemiya @help-whatdoimakemyusername , @skyoverkill1 @phoenix-eclipses , @anqelkoz , @miyakomari @saechiro @franaby , @swivi , @vixialuvs , @heusalettle @kunikissr @yomishen @mywillt0live , @baldrapunzel @jiminscarmex @sushitushi, @liuaneee , @shynsgore , @mechanicalbeat1 , @marivaudages , @okukura , @azzumei @lucid1tty @iloveescara @usagiarchive @kyouzki @theunhingedmf @kangyeonie @mi2ukiss @bubblebellaz @eternallykira-143 @lumiicch

• featured song - nothing's gonna change my love for you by george benson

authors' notes - i tried my best in writing scara as VAGUE as fucking possible while also keeping the brandname of him being a fake idgafer💜 also you know those people who tries so hard to wink but just can't? i imagined that with [name]'s grandma and i just fucking cackled at the image lmfao

p.s - if u don't know the meaning of the song scara had on the last pic then i suggest u do a google search😋😋😋 gonna be a big ass foreshadowing

(ask to be added or removed)

[findmeinforks]

The Incident - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

A little one shot that I just couldn't stop writing. A good angst to fluff (btw my fics will never be all angst, im too soft). Also do not fear, Im working on a Sam fic and part 3 to not letting you go. But you let ME know what you think of this one ❤️ 2K words

"My SISTER, Paul. She's my fucking SISTER!" you yelled, voice hoarse as your throat cracked.

"I could give a SHIT LESS WHAT SHE IS. YOU'RE. NOT. GOING." He screamed, jaw taut as he tried his best to subside the tremors that were threatening to take over his body.

You ignored the teeth he bared, shaking your head and scoffing.

"Aren't you tired of this?! I'm going over there. I HAVE to know she's safe."

"YOU SERIOUSLY THINK I'LL JUST SIT BY AND WATCH MY IMPRINT GO TO A PLACE WHERE I CAN'T PROTECT HER? WHAT ABOUT ME KNOWING THAT YOU'RE SAFE?? HUH?? YOU'RE SICK IF YOU THINK I WOULD BE OKAY WITH THIS!"

"Sick?!? SICK?!? LETS TALK ABOUT HOW 'SICK' IT IS THAT YOU WOULD WANT TO KILL HER AND THE BABY. THATS MY FAMILY PAUL!"

"AND WERE NOT?"

It had been like this for a week straight. Ever since the pack stormed through the door announcing their mission to kill Bella and the unborn child within her.

You felt as though your two families had been pinned against each other. Head spinning at the idea of there being a 'choice' between your sister and imprint.

On one hand you were desperate to make sure she was alright, but also exhausted at the never ending battle with your boyfriend.

Sure you had talked to Bella over the phone, but you didn't buy into the lies like your father had. Even though you knew significantly more than he did, she still attempted to downplay the situation. She had done this numerous times since getting thrown into the vampire world, but she could only keep you in the dark for so long before you unraveled the truth.

You had to see her. Even if it was the last time. By fate, or at the hands of the pack. You had to be there for her, as she would you.

Leaving your imprint though? Was at task challenging at best. On at least four different occasions you fought with Paul for so long that Emily and Sam had to intervene, prying you two apart at the pleads of other pack members.

Emily would console you while you ranted and Sam would make Paul run off his anger in the woods. When you faced him again, it turned into a rerun of the same argument. Nobody in the house had gotten sleep, and the things were progressively getting worse.

Quil came through the door, widening his eyes.

"Just a heads up everyone, a little comedic relief does not go over well. I saw my life flash before Paul's eyes." He huffed before sitting down.

"When is this going to be overrrr?" Embry whined. He shoved his head in his hands on the kitchen table while you and Paul went at it in the front yard.

Emily sighed.

"Unfortunately sooner than you think....Y/N packed her suitcase this morning." She said quietly.

"You're not really going to let her go over there are you?!?" Kim stood up, looking at both Emily and Sam.

"If you would like to stop her, please, be my guest." Sam motioned his hand to outside, where you and Paul could be seen through the window. You were throwing your arms up and pointing fingers at him, while his voice boomed loudly, towering his large frame over yours.

Kim winced.

You had always been the calm to Paul's raging storm. 'Made him all soft' as the guys would tease. None of them had actually seen you two disagree with each other. In the mind link they saw glimpses of minor arguments, most of the time being reconciled in the sheets..

Paul eventually got an order by Sam to think about something else while on patrol. 'Literally, anything else'.

"She's not going anywhere. I can count on my hand how many times they've been apart since he imprinted. They'll work it out eventually." Jared said as he pulled Kim on his lap, taking a hunk out of his apple.

Kim didn't share a look that she believed him, worriedly looking out to where you stood.

A few moments passed when her body stiffened and she gasped, making Jared look where she was.

"SHIT! SHIT!" He said, throwing Kim off his lap.

Sam turned to look out the window in time to see Paul phase, his sharp claw making contact with your skin. Your blood curdling scream instantly had everyone else off their seats, nearly knocking each other over to race outside.

You laid on the ground as your body wracked with sobs, clutching your side. Blood gushed through your hand as you started to panic, scrambling to stand. The large silver wolf only stood for a few moments before Paul shifted back, completely horrified as he frantically tried to reach you.

He felt his heart nearly rip out of his chest as you backpedaled into Emily, who was helping to hold you upright.

"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! IM DONE!" You cried.

Sam stood in the middle of the two of you.

Paul could feel his chest caving in, hand out, speaking more gently than he had at all in the past week.

"B-baby. Please. Please, I'm- I'm so sorry baby. Please let me just see-"

"NO! I'm done. I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm done." You repeated like a mantra, limping to the car.

"Y/N you cannot drive like this..." Emily attempted to say as she stepped in from behind you. She could see your anxiety was heightened, and afraid to set you off further.

"I have to go," you choked, on the verge of tears as you tried to open the drivers side. You had yet to even notice the gash in your side, adrenaline pumping wildly through your body.

Paul made his way around Sam, grabbing your other arm that was holding the door.

"You are crazy if you think I'm letting you leave like this. Please come-"

You yanked your arm from his grasp.

"Don't. Let me go!" You said coldly.

Paul froze. He couldn't move. You never spoke to him like this. Even in the numerous fights you two had this week.

Every single instinct in his body needed to help you. He knew you were downplaying your injuries. He knew he just royally fucked everything up. But the absolute last thing you could do was walk into a house full of vampires dripping in blood. Fucking doctor or not.

"Come inside and let me take a look at you, okay? Please." Emily said to coax you, frantically looking at your wound.

This made Sam follow her gaze, looking down to see the blood pouring from your side hadn't stopped, and you were growing paler by the minute.

"Y/N....you're going to stay here and I'll call Sue." He said in an authoritative voice, leaving no room to argue as he turned to start dialing the number.

You almost argued. You almost fought both of them on the subject. Your stubbornness almost won.

But you felt an immense pain. So strong you don't know how the hell you didn't notice it when you stood up.

That couldn't be good.

"....Y/N?" Paul said, barely above a whisper. Tears were now silently streaming down his face as he held both hands out slightly. Not close enough to touch you but to be prepared in case you fell.

You could feel yourself start to float in and out of consciousness. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on something. You looked at his hands that were outstretched.

Those hands that you held on your first date. The hands that hover your back anywhere you go. The hands that lift you up from the couch on movie nights to bring you to bed. The hands that move in just the right way when making love to you. The hands that were now shaking, not out of anger, but fear. You loved those hands.

"Y/N? Baby?" Paul said louder, more urgently as he could see you fading.

You watched him get blurry as the world started to spin.

"Paul," you murmured, before fading into darkness. The last thing you remember were the hands that caught you before you hit the ground.

"Y/N!!!" Paul screamed as he caught your body falling into him.

Sam ran back, telling him Sue was just up the street. He instructed Paul to carry you inside and onto the bed. The pack dispersed, each trying to find something to help you such as towels, an emergency kit and pillows.

Paul held you close as he lay you down, while repeatedly whispering in your ear.

"I'm so sorry baby. I'm so-so sorry. I cant lose you. Youre everything to me. I'll never yell at you again. I swear on my life. You can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want. Please, I love you." Paul pressed kisses to your hairline when Sue and her nurse friend entered.

Jared reluctantly came in behind them to lead Paul out of the room as they worked.

"Come on man, she'll wake up soon I promise."

After he was guided out, Paul slid down to sit on the other side of the door, refusing to move. Jared didn't push it, leaning down to sit next to him.

"Sue's seen this kind of stuff before. Just needs stitching up and stuff," Jared reassured as he put his hand on Paul's shoulder.

"It's not the injuries I'm worried about. So much as what she'll think of me when she wakes up. I....I fucked this one up, Jare."

"If Emily can forgive Sam, I think Y/N will forgive you. She's crazy about your ass."

Paul just nodded, praying he was right.

~

Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you woke. You looked around to see that you had been bandaged up along your left side, an IV attached to your arm sat close by. You attempted to sit up, whining when the pain wouldn't allow it. Within a few minutes Emily entered, her face showing relief.

"You're up! How are you feeling?" She checked the IV before sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of your body.

"Sore...where's, where's Paul?" Your heart ached as you started to replay what happened. There was no doubt in your mind what happened was an accident. You had seen the signs he always warned you about, and chose to ignore them in the heat of the argument. Not only that, but the look on his face when you had refused him was too much to bare.

Emily smiled, not expecting you to want to see him so soon.

"He's just outside the door. Hasn't moved. He didn't know if you'd want to see him..."

"I need to talk to him."

It hadn't even been a few seconds when Paul stood at the door. He looked more out of shape than you did. The disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't slept in days.

"I'll give you two some space. Just holler if you need anything," Emily spoke as she stood up, making her way around him and down the stairs.

Paul remained where he stood,

"If you don't want to be with me I understand. I have no words for my actions other than I am so...." he cleared his throat, trying not to cry. "So incredibly sorry I put you through this. I put you in danger when I was trying to keep you out of it. You don't have to stay I-"

"Paul please just kiss me." You interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest as you already made up your mind in forgiving him.

He stood for just a moment longer, trying to comprehend if he heard you correctly. It was when you weakly opened your arms for him that he wasted no time in rushing over to you, cupping your face and gently yet passionately kissed you with everything he had. Tears flowed his cheeks at the relief that you still wanted him. Even after everything he had put you through.

You two pulled back for air after a moment, and you ran your hand through his hair.

"I forgive you, okay? I can't imagine my life without you."

He let out a breath, smiling for the first time in weeks.

"It will never happen again. I swear on my fucking life baby." He caressed your hair, neck, landing his palm on your heart.

You two sat like that for awhile. Almost scared to leave each other's presence. You two talked for hours on the bed. Paul had confessed that the night before, while you were sleeping, the pack had fought with the Cullens. You learned that Paul refused to go, not wanting to leave your side. You were grateful to hear that Sam didn't push on him being there, knowing you were all that mattered to him, and he'd refuse him if he had too. Even if it went against his every instinct as a wolf. Turns out that Jacob had imprinted on your niece, and Bella had survived, now as a vampire.

You weren't particularly thrilled your sister was now a bloodsucker, but as long as she was alive, you were happy.

Paul eventually made his way to the other side of the bed, kissing every exposed inch of you, whispering all the things he loved about you in your ear until you fell asleep.

When your heartbeat slowed down and he was sure you were out, he reached down and felt the velvet box in his pocket. No doubt in his mind about the future you both held.

[portagas-chan]

Platonic Yandere Doflamingo and teen daughter reader

Overprotective Dad

Platonic Yandere Doflamingo x Daughter Reader

I tried my best. I hope you like it!

Doflamingo adored you and spoiled you rotten because you were his only child. His only daughter. To him, you were the most important person in his life and no one could prove him wrong. He will kill anyone who hurt you physically and mentally.

There was a time when you were a child and a maid accidentally spilled hot tea on you. You cried because the tea felt so hot on your skin and he quickly called a doctor and soothe you. After that incident, you noticed one thing. You never saw that maid again.

You were too young to understand back then but now you do. You turned 18 a few months ago. You were happy because you thought Doflamingo would finally let you leave the castle and explore the outside world. You thought you could finally travel the seas. That was your dream.

However, during your 18th birthday, you asked him if you could become a pirate like him and travel the seas but before you could even finish your sentence, he cut you off.

"No," just that simple one word was able to crush your dreams in an instant.

"Why?" You argued.

"The outside world is very dangerous, [Y/n]. How many times do I have to tell you that? There is no way you can become a pirate. This castle is the only safe place for you."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "But dad, I wanted to become a pirate like you. I just-"

He raised his voice, "[Y/n]! I don't want you to become a pirate like me. You know, I hate repeating myself. I don't want to hear about this topic again! Do you understand me?"

"Yes," You muttered.

"Now go to your room!"

That was the first time your dad had ever raised his voice at you. You left crying and feeling dejected.

But you were determined to leave. You loved your dad but sometimes he is just too much. You heard that he had to attend the Warlord meeting and will be back in a few days. You took this opportuinity to sneak out and it seems like luck was on your side because it was successful.

"Where is [Y/n]? Where did she go?!" Diamante panicked.

"I think she left. I checked every room in this castle and she is nowhere to be found," Baby 5 sighed.

"Fuck!" Diamante cursed.

"Doffy is going to be so mad," Trebol said.

"We have to tell him."

And they did. They told him about the terrible news through the den den mushi. He was flying in the sky heading towards Marineford but the news made him paused and he was thankful that he was still near dressrosa.

Doflamingo did not take it well. His frown deepened, his veins popped out on his forehead and he looked like he will kill anyone who gets in his way. Abandoning his meeting, he wasted no time and flew at the fastest speed back to Dressrosa.

An hour later, he arrived at his castle to see you tied up in your room. He glanced at Diamante, "Where did you find her?"

"Green bit. Thank god she didn't go too far. If we were a little late, she would have been gone for good."

He narrowed his eyes at Diamante's words, "Untie her."

Diamante nodded, obeying his orders.

"Fufufu~ You are very persistent, my daughter," He walked towards you with a grin. You could tell that even though he was grinning, he was very angry inside.

You were scared of what was going to happen next. You were born isolated from the world and now you sneaked out but got caught. There was no way he was going to continue let you live like you used to.

"I'm sorry, dad but I won't do it again! I promise!" You apologized hoping he would let it slide this time.

"Sure but can I trust you? I don't think I can. Last time, you asked me about this and I told you to never bring it up again. You said you won't but now look at what you did. You crossed the line, [Y/n]," He was no longer smiling. He looked upset, mad and most of all, disappointed in you.

You stayed silent because he was right. You lied to him but how could you not? You were getting tired of being restricted from leaving the castle.

When he saw that you have given up on going against him, his signature grin returned to his face.

"Starting from now on, you will be locked up in your room. And for extra precautions, I will have to put these bracelets on you" He took them out of his pocket.

"What?" You were confused. Bracelets for extra precautions?

Doflamingo took your hand and put on the bracelets on both of your wrists, "They will explode if you leave this castle."

You froze in place. Your eyes widened as you looked at your dad in fear and despair.

Doflamingo grinned and hugged you.

"Don't worry, [Y/n]. In this world, I will be the only one who loves you and care for you. I am the only one that will always be by your side. And that is why you can never leave your dad. Fufufu~"

[sniigura-archive]

Multiversal DP (1)

Chapter 2

College Au! Adam x Fem!Reader x Canon! Adam

Summary: You thought God was looking down at you with a pitiful look, when your apartment burned down and the only person who answered your call was your whacky situationship.

But when a weird angel appears, who uncannily looks like Adam just in bigger and even more obnoxious, you realise that God was straight up laughing in your face.

This is based on my College Au! but you don’t need to read it to understand this.

CW/TW: Fire, Porn with slight Plot, Two-Shot, Jealousy, Controlling behaviour, TW ADAM, misogyny, toxic relationship, sci-fi bullshit which makes no sense, Mutual masturbation, slight financial dependency on readers part, possessive behaviour, tell me if i missed anything

A/N: This will be a two shot i swear ‼️‼️ nothing more nothing less

Today was a bad Saturday.

It was exhausting and went on longer than it should. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. First you had to drive to your college library to give back a book otherwise you would be fined, then you had to work an extra shift because someone got sick (hangover from the party yesterday you skipped), then your bus didn’t come without warning? What the fuck was that about? Since it was the last one you had to fucking walk home.

You were tired to your bones.

If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would have noticed the light coming from the floor above your apartments, and the fact that it glowed suspiciously orange and red. Walking up the stairs, the further up you got the more you noticed a heaviness in the air. Is someone using their bbq inside again?

Until the fire alarm went off, while you were one floor away from your apartment. What? You just stood there, frozen in shock. Is this a test? Standing still on the steps you considered continuing your way home, until everyone started spilling out of their own apartments. Ugh. So you’re doing this.

Fleeing with everyone else the building, you stood outside while you watched as the flames finally showed themselves from the outside. Since the apartment where it started was directly above yours, you saw the flames caught over to your own. It smelled like smoke, despair and money you will have to spend to replace everything. You don’t even know if your landlord has insurance. He hasn’t repaired your AC unit in 2 years now.

It felt dreamish, the way the fire department came, being able to see how a big portion was consumed by flames, and in the end sitting at the curb while freezing your ass off. One thing is clear, you won’t be able to sleep in your own bed tonight.

Your neighbours sat with you, together with a fireguy who chatted with everyone about the damage. Some sort of support beam came down. You didn’t bother engaging in the conversation.

It drifted towards where everyone is going to stay, your neighbours already had that figured out. He’s staying with his boyfriend, she’s going to visit her sister and they are going to each take a child and visit their own parents. When the eyes moved to you, you felt uncomfortable. Where will you stay?

“You should start calling your family, sweetie.” The old woman told you, her voice rough from all the cigarettes she smokes.

Everything today got you fucked up. Taking in a shaky breath and wiping your hands on your jeans, you stood up to make a few calls. Walking away from the group and basically hiding behind the firetruck, you didn’t want everyone to see that fact that you have like 3 contacts in your phone. You think they already know, though.

Since it’s in the middle of the night, or more like the new day already, Monica didn’t answer, neither did Dymphna or Bernadette. Maybe you should just crash in a motel. Then you remember what’s in your budget and how the motel in your price range had some weird incidents regarding rats and cockroaches and meth deals.

Tapping your phone against your forehead, you tried to keep calm and think. Then you remembered who gifted you that phone and you sighed.

Opening Adam’s contact, you hit the call button before you could chicken out. Holding your phone against your ear, you felt panic wash over you and before you could fumble around to end the call, Adam picked up.

“Fucking hell, baby, if yer callin’ me for anythin’ but a good dicking down ‘m gonna be pissed.” His voice was gruff and it’s clear to you that you just woke him up. He mumbled out the words.

All you could muster up was a sob and a weak “Sorry.”

“Where the fuck-“ You hang up before he could finish his sentence. Great. Why did you even think about calling Adam? Are you stupid? Desperation makes people do crazy things.

You tried to call your friends again and when everyone went to voicemail you thought about blocking them all in a blind rage because why the fuck can’t they be there during an emergency? Taking deep breath to calm yourself, you reasoned with yourself that you too would be sleeping during the witching hours.

Nervously biting down on your lower lip, you considered throwing yourself off a bridge to cope with everything. Deciding against it, you looked at your notifications instead. Adam was spamming you.

[Adam Godfree]: where r u 1:11 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:12 AM

[Adam Godfree]: send ur location 1:13 AM

[Adam Godfree]: baby 1:14 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15

[Adam Godfree]: i’m not mad just say where u are 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:16 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: answer my fcuikng calls 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: im cuminv over u btter be fucking there 1:17 AM

More messages and call attempts clogged your notifications.

The fact that Adam is the only one answering in your time of need is lowkey so embarrassing. Since you read the messages through your notifications field, you aren’t leaving him on read. You think that would have ticked him off even more.

Taking a sneak back at the street, still covering your body with the fire truck, you noticed that everyone was gone. They all have retired for the night. It was a pretty intense debacle, everyone coming out to watch and film. The fire truck was started and you jumped slightly, fleeing towards the side walk.

If a fire truck drove you over you’d be very very very unhappy.

Sitting down on the street like the loser you are, you rubbed your hands over your face. Don’t cry. You’re all alone. But don’t cry. Don’t cry. Looking up the nearest Motel near you, which you could afford, you got up. Your legs felt weak. You didn’t even have a fucking phone charger with you. At least you took your laptop and the charger with you, if any of your files were gone you’d die.

You couldn’t help but think of everything you need to replace. Ok maybe you can cry a little. Crying and walking is an honest to god awful combination but beggars can’t be choosers or whatever.

Maybe you should text Adam that everything’s fine and that you were just being a bit dramatic. It’s been like, what? 10 minutes? And he usually takes 20 minutes to get here. You feel bad that he had to drive half the way.

Just as you were about to open the chat, a car turned into your street with an illegal speed. Damn.

Is that Adam’s car??? Double damn.

Adam stopped the car besides you with squeaking breaks and tires. He threw open the car door, and even before he fully stepped out he was yelling at you, “Bitch, what the fuck?!? You have the fucking nerve to call me up in the middle of the night and then to ignore me?? Do you even know who the fuck you’re talking to? How many other-“

“My apartment burned down.” You wanted to bawl your eyes out.

Everything you have meticulously worked hard and saved up for is gone. All your memories and trinkets and plants and everything you valued.

“..You’re joking?”

You shook your head, deciding on covering your face with your hands while you full on started sobbing now. Your breathing was hysterical and you thought you were about to full on start hyperventilating now because you have to apply for new documents now and what’s with your class notes and well at least all your cards were with you. Do you have to get a P.o. box now and how much does that cost? Can you even afford to be in a motel so long, do you have to pay for that? What happens if they can’t like restore the apartment complex where will you live the market is horrible and you’re going to be homeless and in debt, won’t you? You will have to drop out or take up more shifts or even get a second job but your grades and scholarship and and and and and and

Adam walked over towards you, but you were too deep in your mental breakdown spiral to notice it, and he carefully placed his hands on your shoulders. You flinched slightly at the unexpected contact, but when you realised it’s just Adam you relaxed again. Taking your hands away from your eyes, you had them resting on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t worry that pretty little head. I will take care of everything, alright?” Adam’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. His fingers were massaging your tense muscles. You looked up at him with wet eyes and nodded pathetically at him. You didn’t trust your voice.

Adam started grinning down at you, “I have always wanted a cum dump at home, anyways.”

This just made you start crying again. Motel it is.

“Ah, bad joke. Don’t cry, cmon. You know me, babe, don’t have ta do anything you don’t wanna do.” He pulled you into his chest, his hand smoothing over your hair while the other rubbed your back. He’s warm and soft. You continued to sob into his sleeping shirt, while clutching at his shirt.

You don’t know for how long you’ve been crying for, but Adam simply stood during that time with you at the side walk, while comforting you. He didn’t speak, which was rare.

Once you have finally made the rational adult decision to calm down, after god knows how much time has passed, you lifted your head up from his chest and took a step back. You were still sniffling and you didn’t even want to image what your face was looking like.

Adam grasped your cheeks into his hands while wiping away your tears with his thumb, “Alright, alright, let’s get you to bed. Must have been exhausting for my poor, little baby.”

He leaned forward, giving your forehead a kiss. Then he grasped you by the shoulders and lead you towards the passenger seat, opening the door for you and helping you in by grasping your hand in his. Once you were sat down, with your bag at your feet, Adam leaned down towards you and put your seatbelt on for you. He closed the door and walked over to sit down in the drivers seat.

Driving to Adam’s apartment was relaxing, music was playing and you were starting to fall asleep.

“..Ho….that…ven..hap..”

“Huh?” You lifted your head up from the car window, blinking at Adam sleepily.

“I asked how the fire even happened?” Adam glanced over at you, you were going to be there soon.

You sighed, and rested your head again against the window, “Guy feel asleep with a joint in his hand…Or was it his mouth? Doesn’t matter. Curtains and carpet caught on fire.”

“Oh my fucking…You’re kidding me?” Adam drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

You stretched your arms, hands and fingers out before you, “I wish.”

Adam continued watching you, glancing at you as if you didn’t notice. He was trying to be slick. Smoothly parking his car, he got out. You opened your car door, taking your bag with you when you left the car. Adam took your bag from you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing you into his side. You both made your way to his apartment.

Taking off your thin winter coat, together with your old boots, you were ready to just pass out.

“You want me in the guest room?” You asked him, while rubbing at your eyes.

“The fuck? No. You’re sleeping with me, baby. Pun intended.” He winked at you.

You sighed warily, you’re too exhausted to even glare at Adam. He was still fighting with untying his own boots. Shifting from one leg to the other, you decided on looking around Adam’s living room. Nothing has changed. Still weirdly sterile and empty. His bedroom was at least somewhat different, filled with band posters and guitars.

After Adam finally got his shoes and jacket off, he intervened your fingers with his and lead you to his bedroom. He went and rummaged through his closet, giving you a sweatshirt, “This should do for now, we will get you new fucking clothes tomorrow….”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“Yeah, yeah, how about you remember this next time I want my dick sucked? How I’m such a nice fucking guy, and how you owe me, babe.” Adam pinched your cheek while he spoke, grinning down at you.

Dear god, please fix up your apartment as fast as possible. With lots of love, your saddest creation.

Adam answering your call is literally the devils work, you can’t explain it otherwise. Is this some sort of punishment? What did you do in your last life to deserve this.

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you got out of his grasp and turned your back to him to get dressed. Taking off your own hoodie, and bra you slipped into the sweatshirt Adam gave you. It was soft and the material was thick and nice. It was huge on you, but that’s just because Adam is a big guy. Everywhere.

Taking off your jeans, you folded your clothes messily and put them on Adam’s desk chair. Adam was already in his sleeping wear, since you gracefully woke him up in the middle of the night. He was in bed, watching you get dressed, while he yawned.

Ducking under the blanket with him, Adam grabbed your arm and dragged you towards him. It’s like he wants to live in your skin. He made your head rest against his chest, while he had his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Wake me up again today, ’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down ever fucking again.” He grumbled at you, while giving your ass a pinch.

You gasped slightly, before burying your head into his neck. He always smells nice.

Before you knew it, you were already asleep.

In your dream, a big support beam in your burning building was dropped on you. Crushing your body to the floor, with your back to the ground.

Blinking, you slowly but surely woke up, with your heart hammering against your chest. Trying to turn over, you noticed something heavy laying on you. Adam’s head was on your chest, his arms were wrapped around your back and his breathing was even. Remembering his threat, you decided on letting him sleep. Sighing and burying your hand in his soft hair, you decided on continuing snoozing.

But as soon as you buried your hands in Adam’s hair, Adam lifted his head up and was now resting his chin on your chest. Does he not know that tits are sensitive?

With his oh so charming grin on his face, you just knew he was up to no good. He shifted and was now resting his weight on his arms, besides your head, rather than using your body as a pillow. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Adam crashed your lips together, he is as shameless as always. His hand roamed your body, till he slipped it under your sweatshirt. Gently fondling your left breast. He rolled his half-hard dick on your thigh.

Disconnecting your lips from his, you whimpered against his lips.

“What happened to ‘Good morning’? ‘How did you sleep?’. What happened to that?”

Adam moved to kiss your ear, cheek and then your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses against your skin, while he panted against you.

“Mornin’ slut,” Why is his morning voice so fucking sexy? “you jerk me off right now ‘n I’m going to buy you whatfuckingever you want today.”

You would jerk him off for free. You did jerk him off for free. Are you a whore?

Adam sat up, moving so that both his knees were besides your stomach. You were happy he didn’t sit down on you, he could easily crush you. That’s sexy, though. He kneeled over you, and you saw his dick strain against his fuzzy pants.

He grasped your sweatshirt into his big hand, pulling it up towards your chin to expose your tits. Seeing them made him smirk. Taking your hand into his, he placed it on his dick and ground your palm against him.

“Watcha waiting for, baby?” He purred while looking down on you.

Adam always made you horribly nervous. No matter how often you hang out, or fuck, he always has you blushing and stuttering. Fuck. Grasping the hem of Adam’s pants into your hands, you pulled them down together with his underwear.

His dick was heavy, curving downwards and already leaking pre cum. You’ve had this monster inside you more than once, but every time you’re surprised at just how big he is. It’s not only his length, but also the girth. Jesus. Stretching you out mercilessly every time, you struggled with wrapping your fingers around him. His gold prince albert piercing glinted in the dim light.

Realising with your hand wrapped around him, that jerking him off with dry hands was probably not the move. Making sure to lick your other hand, while keeping eye contact with Adam, you wrapped your now wet hand around his member. You started with slow a slow movement, spreading his pre cum across his dick. You licked your other hand, because this was for sure a two hand job, you now were able to use your left hand for the lower part and the right hand for the top part.

Massaging his tip with your thumb, Adam groaned, “Ughh, fuck babe, you loooove serving me, don’t you? Making me cum is, like, your fucking dream job.” He laughed at his own fantasy, “Don’t worry tho, making your pretty pussy cum is my own life work.”

Adam reached back, his hand brushing over your hips and finally getting under your panties, “Sooo wet already? You’re too easy.” The way he grinned and sounds giddy made it obvious how much he enjoyed it. His fingers found your clit and then your weeping hole. He gathered the wetness on his middle and pointer finger, he then went to massage your clit.

Your hips jerked up, at the sudden pleasure cursing through your body. Moaning up at Adam, your hands stuttered their jerking movements. Quickly catching yourself, you speed up your movements while focusing on Adam rubbing at your clit.

He moved his fingers to pinch your clit in between his fingers, you whined while your hips jerked even more, “Stop that. Do it properly.” You hissed at him, while glaring up at him.

Adam simply snickered at you, but he did move back his fingers to continue rubbing your clit. You moved your left hand to massage Adam’s balls, gently moving your fingers across that sensitive part of Adam. Grasping softly in your hands, arching your palm up in a wave motion.

“Fuuuuuck, ha, you’re doing so well.” Adam moaned out, while he intensified his finger movements. Shit, you’re close. But so was Adam, you could tell by his furrowed brow, he was moving his hips to grind his dick further into your hands and fingers, his noises and breathing.

“Pleaseee, Adam, won’t you cum all over..me?” You pouted up at him, massaging his dick.

The pressure build up in your lower stomach, your pussy clenching around nothing as you felt yourself cum. Shit. Adam laughed at you, his fingers never left your clit.

It didn’t take much longer for Adam to cum after you, coating your torso white. It was hot, sticky and thick. Ugh. Adam’s fingers still didn’t left your clit. What an asshole.

“EeeeEeeenough, Adam, Oh fuck-“ You tried to angel your hips in a way that he leaves your most sensitive part alone, he chuckled and wiggled his hand out off your panties. Thank god.

Adam pulled his pants back up, and sat down besides your laying down body. You tried to catch your breath, your clean hand covered your eyes. With Adam’s sweatshirt not covering you anymore properly, you were starting to get cold.

Taking your face in his hands, Adam gave your cheek a wet kiss. He brushed his lips over your ear, before whispering in your ear, “Aren’t you just my precious little slut? Go shower, baby.”

You nodded your head at that, showering would be a smart move. Getting up, you located your clothes, before you started walking Adam gave your ass an stinging slap. Gasping in surprise, you went and covered your ass with your hands.

“Man, I didn’t even wake you up..” You grumbled at him, going over to take your clothes.

“Yeah bitch, but you made me wait till you woke up to drain my balls.” Adam got out of bed, stretching his arms over his head.

You stuck out your tongue towards Adam, with your clothes in hand you took off towards the shower. Using Adam’s stuff always felt weird to you. Obviously he doesn’t have woman shower gel, but still. Smelling like Axe was sure something, having your friends side eye you for your smell was even worse.

Getting out, you towelled yourself dry. Slipping into your clothes form yesterday, you left the bathroom. Seeing Adam in the kitchen, at the stove, you made your way over. Wrapping your arms around his mid section, you buried your head between his shoulder blades.

Adam wrapped his one hand over your intervened hands. God, he’s such a big guy.

“Hey baby, you like french toast?”

You simply mumbled a yeah into his shirt, while smelling how good Adams cologne smells. No wonder he’s so popular. If only it wasn’t for his mouth. Adam rubbed your hands with his thumb while chuckling. He turned the stove off and turned around, taking your face into his hands he gave you a deep kiss.

“You excited to fulfill your womanly role of being in the kitchen while you’re here?” Adam mumbled against your lips.

“…You piss me off beyond believe.” You shoved him away by his shoulders, while he laughed.

He didn’t stay away for long, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your bodies together.

“Why? You don’t wanna be my pretty little housewife? Nah, but seriously you do have to pull your weight ‘round here.” Adam pushed a few wet strands of your hair out of your face.

You nodded at Adam, “Of course….I know it wouldn’t be enough but I could give you the amount of rent I pay?”

Adam looked at you like you were stupid, “Babe, I fucking meant, like, cleaning up after yourself, cooking once in a while and hopping on my awesome dick. Well, it’s more of a bonus to be able to ride me whenever you please. I can make that pussy fucking churn, baby, you know it.”

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you simply hid away by smashing your face into Adam’s chest. His incredibly soft chest. Gliding his hands all over your body, Adam bend his neck to whisper into your ear,

“Sit down before the food gets cold.”

Sitting down, you let Adam fix you and him a plate. It all felt weirdly domestic.

Once you were finished, you put everything in the dishwasher while Adam made his way to the bedroom, to get dressed. You plopped down on the couch, twirling your thumbs basically. Sighing, you laid down on the couch. Adam entered the living room.

“What’s up? Stop looking all depressed and shit, we are bout to empty my fucking wallet. Aren’t woman happy to go shopping on a man’s hard earned dime?” Adam stood in-front of you, with his jacket in hand.

“I just..I can’t believe I’m homeless…..This is my biggest fear coming true. Oh my god….I’m homeless…” You covered your face with your hands and groaned loudly. You’re fucking homeless.

Adam scoffed at you, taking your hands into his own and taking them off your face.

“Baby, you’re living here now. We will put your last name on the fucking mailbox and whatever else you need. I will handle everything, sweet thing, don’t you fucking worry.” Adam grasped your knee into his hand now, shaking it slightly, “Cmon, get fucking up. I need you to lighten my wallet up.”

You stood up, nodding at Adam, “Okay, okay, let’s get going.”

Walking towards your jacket, you put it on, together with your worn out boots. Fall is a bitch and winter was even worse. Adam furrowed his brows at your clothes, he grabbed your jacket and felt your jacket lining.

“Jesus, this thin thing doesn’t do shit for you, and what the fuck’s up with your boots? Woman, we have to get you a whole new wardrobe.” He shook his head at you, like it’s your fault you’re broke.

Shopping with Adam played out as well as you thought. When Adam asked you which store you usually go to, and you said the thrift store he looked unhappy. He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you all across the mall.

Unsurprisingly, his favourite place was the underwear section. When you grabbed a multi pack of basic panties, Adam looked at you like you personally ruined his life with that decision.

This whole thing was tiring, you just wanted to lay down. At least Adam had the time of is life, sending you to the dressing room and getting to play dress up doll with you. Eh, at least he isn’t bitching at you, he complains about how woman sizes are not all standardised, how the stitching is shit and how it can be that they don’t have that top, in that colour, in a bigger size. He’s in his zone. He has you try on stuff in different colours, shapes, sizes and man he’s picky as fuck.

All you wanted was a few sweatshirts, one pair of jeans and some socks and underwear. In the end you got a new fucking closet, your make up items basically replaced with the expensive version of your drug store ones, shampoo and conditioner from brands you couldn’t even pronounce, and some sanitary products. Once Adam started looking at sundresses (summer is like 6 months away??) you put your foot down and told him you wanted to go home. You weren’t sure more bags would fit on his arms and in his hands anyways, since he refuses to let you touch anything.

Standing in line at the last checkout, Adam was preoccupied looking at bras. Telling him your bra size was probably a mistake. Letting him drag you to a lingerie store was the other mistake. You felt your phone vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans.

Pulling it out, it was a group chat call from your friends. Accepting the call, you held your phone against your ear,

“‘Yello?”

“What in Christs name is going on that you call up a storm in the middle of the night?”

You could barley understand a word, with 3 different people talking at once, but that was the gist of it.

“Uhh, nothing bad. Apartment burned down.”

“WHATTT???”

Before you could elaborate, you felt your phone being snatched out of your hand. Looking back, you saw Adam glare at your phone.

“If it isn’t the fucking Hexenzirkel!….Mind your own fucking business, everything here’s alright.” With that he hung up your phone and pocketed it. Great. Now that’s a fire you will have to put out later.

Adam herded you forward, towards a free register. He paid for everything, and then took you towards the parking garage where he left the car. Stacking everything in the backseat and trunk, you sat down at your seat. Adam got in, and he started driving home.

Calming your friends was sure a thing you had to pull off. Explaining to them what happened and why you live now with Adam, off all people, was sure something you did. With lots of interruptions. Monica and Dy both assured you that you could always crash at their apartment, in their guest room.

Well, they won’t be able to make you cum 3 times in the span of 20 minutes, so you were going to ride this out. Literally.

You already realised that living with Adam would include lots of sex. He kind of made it his mission to christen every room in his apartment. More than once.

So across a few weeks, he had you ride him on the couch, eating you out in the bathroom, bending you over the kitchen counter, having you suck his dick in the guest room and romantic missionary in his bedroom. And much more and more frequently. Trying out cock warming sadly didn’t go as well, Adam doesn’t have the self control for that, but tying him down on a chair did help with that. And it was hot as fuck.

What you didn’t take in account for was the domesticity of it all. Cooking with Adam, drying the dishes while he washes, watching shows and movies, talking about each others day at the end of the day, cuddling, sleeping in each others embrace, listening to Adam sing and play his guitar, his rambling about the girls his band and music he enjoys, showering together and washing each others hair, grocery shopping together. It’s all so soft, you didn’t really except it. It scares you.

Adam had a lot of bad qualities, like how he tries to give you a curfew, you have to change your phone password every week, you’re sure he has your phone location somehow (you really have to check your app and settings), he keeps making attempts of convincing you to quit your job, tries to dictate what you wear outside the house (all you wear rn are baggy clothes anyways, not because of Adam but because it’s cold af), he always asks you where you’re going and with who, for how long will you stay out? Should he come with you? Don’t worry, baby, he will give a lift and coincidentally stays there for as long as you. Right besides you. He hid away all the door keys?? He loves scaring you and he has a tendency to make your keys and phone disappear when you’re about to leave.

So yeah, privacy was non existent. But when your landlord sent you an email on how you should still pay rent?? Adam took your phone and told you he would take care of it and lo and behold, another email followed up saying that you don’t need to pay for shit. Who would have fucking thought. A few days after the fire you were allowed inside again, picking out whatever wasn’t fully destroyed. There wasn’t much, Adam came with you, and when you were close to crying again, he gave your head a kiss and bought you your favourite take out.

You’re pretty sure he’s trying to condition you to be dependent on him, since when he makes you cum he has a tendency to whisper to you about how you’d should cancel your lease, how you should quit (again) and how nice wouldn’t it be to be his little housewife? You’re happy you got the copper IUD, otherwise you would be pregnant right now. Since Adam is insatiable.

At the end of the day you get fed, get 8 hours of sleep and Adam tries to drive and pick you up wherever you want. So you have been throughly enjoying the past few weeks. The fact that you have to reassure your friends that you are fine and juggle Adam’s weird behaviour is just something you have to deal with.

You were close to falling asleep. Adam was laying on the couch, with you on his chest. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, while you buried your face into his neck. His one hand was under your shirt, his fingers traced heart shapes on your skin. You felt his heart thump through his chest, in a slow rhythm. The TV was playing in the background, some fucking Family Guy episode Adam picked out.

The lights started to flicker, faster and faster.

“What the fuck?” Adam sat up, looking around confused.

All the electronics were starting to go crazy, the TV switched between movies and shows, the microwave started going off, together with the fire alarm. You rubbed your eye, while yawning. Everything came to a hold when everything got shut off. You sat in the dark.

“..Huh?” Is all you could get out. Whats going on?

“Fucking fuck. Did a fucking fuse blow out on me?” Adam ushered you off his lap, you stretched your arms over your head.

“Did you forget to pay utilities? Happened to me once or twice.” You threw into the room.

Adam scoffed at that, “Did you forget or were you too broke? I pay my shit on time, don’t fucking worry about it. Fuck. I think the fuse box is out on the hallway.”

“..Both.” You made an attempt at going back to clinging to Adam, he was comfy and you were tired.

“Can’t get rid of you, huh?” He chuckled at you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you closer to him, “Need me to carry you to every fucking errand I need to run?”

You nodded at him, humming in agreement. Adam slipped his arm under your knees and the other under your shoulder, when he stood up he took you with him. Carrying you bridal style. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Don’t drop me! Ah! Adam!”

“Damn babe, usually you only scream my name like that when I make you cream all around me! Don’t stress yourself, you weigh nothing to me. Watch this.” Adam laughed at you, he spun you around in his arms. Then he proceeded to do squats. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. After that, the final round, he did bicep curls, using you as his weight.

“Drop me, gym bro.” You laughed at him.

“Yes, mam.” Adam suddenly let go off you for a second, or at least made it seem like that.

Your heart dropped, genuinely thinking that Adam let go off without warning. But he quickly caught you again, laughing at your screaming and horrified expression. He set you back on your feet, grinning at you.

“Chillax babe, as if I would ever drop ya.” He brushed your hair away from your face.

“Fuck off, asshole. How about we look for that fuse box? I don’t wanna live in a lightless apartment.” You hissed at him, swatting away his grabby hands. At least your eyes got adjusted to the dark.

Before Adam could answer, everything started to go crazy again. TV blaring, lights flickering, beeping and fucking sparks flying.

Adam yanked you down with him by your arm, you both were squatting behind the couch.

“Fucking hell?! What the fucks going on??”

A blazing, colourful tear appeared into the air, between the TV and couch. Man were you happy to have said couch as a shield. A high pitched tone sounded through the air, causing both you and Adam to grimace. Covering your ears, you squinted while trying to take a look at the weird slit. It was changing size and form and honestly, you weren’t too sure what you were looking at. So you just ducked behind the couch again, not wanting to know what actually was going on.

Then it just stopped. Everything was pitch black, taking a look out the window you saw that non of the lights in the other buildings were on anymore. Fucking power shut off.

“Let’s get fucking out of here befo-“ Adam started speaking, but was interrupted by a horrible sizzling sound. You were sure that the sound waves which vibrated through the air were touching your soul.

The tear appeared again, just this time in a circle form. Adam and you ducked behind the couch again, while the…thing moved and changed and screeched. It stopped. Again.

“Jesus Christ…” You whispered into the darkness, looking at Adam with big eyes.

“Uhm, fuck no, I’m not the J- Dog. I’m fucking Adam, you know? The first dick on fucking earth?”

??????

Adam and you looked at each other like you have just seen a ghost. You both shoot up from behind the couch at the same time.

What kind of creature appeared in the living room????

He’s very tall. Too tall. And big. His horns hit the ceiling, so he has to awkwardly slouch. What even is his face? Are those golden wings? How fucking big are they? Wingspan of over 9000? Whats that round thing over his head, a halo? With a weird ass robe. Oh my god. What’s even going on anymore?

“Fucking sick, you both can hide your wings and halo? How long did that take you to fucking master? A century or two?” The thing gave you both a once over, his gaze lingered on Adam’s face, but he just shook his head. A century? You weren’t even ready to continue living for another 10 years.

You reached your hand out, grasping Adam’s arm tightly. Adam’s muscles were tense and he seemed to grind his teeth, glaring at the unwanted guest. God help you.

“What? You two to fucking shocked seeing this big of a deal, huh? I totally get it. Want an autograph?”

“..We…Don’t need to….Hide our…Wings. Because we are…People…?” You decided on saying. It’s better if you speak and not Adam, since he looked close to blowing up.

The creature blinked at you, “Oh shit…Don’t fucking worry about this little incident, sugar tits, upstairs we got extra protocol for this.” He turned his huge back towards you and Adam, giving you a nice view of his glowy, golden wings.

Since your heart was starting to calm down, and you were able to think clear, the realisation creeped in that he kind sounded like Adam? Weird coincidence.

Adam’s face soured even more at the pet name, “Al-fucking-right, listen here, A-“

Grabbing Adam by the collar of his hoodie, you yanked him down. Placing your finger against your lips, to signal for him to shut up, you let him go again. It’s best if Adam does not start a fight with a whole ass angel.

Said Angel was snapping his fingers repeatedly. Each time he did, the electronics started going crazy again. All that appeared were sparks around his fingers, and where the tear was it sizzled slightly. Great.

“The fuck? Why isn’t this shit working?”

Adam crossed his arms infront of his chest, looking unhappier with every passing second. This won’t go well. You feel it in your soul.

The angel nervously threw a look over his shoulder, at you and Adam. As if any of this was your fault. Rolling your eyes, you bit your tongue.

“…You sure you’re a fucking angel?” Adam spoke into the tense atmosphere.

“Yes I’m fucking sure I’m an angel! Have some fucking respect, without me non of you fuckers could be frolicking right fucking now!”

And so it starts. While the two men threw insults at each other, you tried to breath through your panic. Taking a good look at the angel, not only did he have the same voice as Adam, his face reminds you off the masks Adam’s band wears whenever they perform. Maybe….

“Take off your mask.” You decided on telling the giant. All eyes were on you now.

“Woah, bossy. And here I fucking thought you were a well trained bitch, who knows not to interrupt when the men are speaking.” Alright, you hate that guy.

He hooked his fingers under, what was finally revealed as a mask, and slipped his face out of it. Even though his hair was a mess, one thing was clear. That was Adam.

It was uncanny to watch, you were uncomfortable. It clearly felt like that they weren’t supposed to be in the same room. The only difference between their faces was that this one didn’t have any piercings, and he looked to be in his thirties. Good to know that Adam still will look hot in like 10 years. DILF. The even have the same facial expressions, and reactions to each other.

“You supposed to be some shitty alternative version of me, or what?” Adam asked, his chin in his hands and head tilted.

“Fuck no, you dumbass didn’t listen to me? I’m fucking Adam, the first man? More like my genes are alive and well in you. Good to know.” He nodded at Adam.

“Are you sure? Because his name is also Adam, and he has two ex girlfriends named Lilith and Eve. Same break up as you had…….Are we in a Bible fan-fiction? Why does everyone I know have biblical names and a fitting background?” Is your whole life a lie??

The angel simply blinked at you, then his gaze shifted towards Adam. He chuckled nervously again, once again snapping his fingers. All it did was make sparks fly and mess further with the electricity, not just in this apartment but also with every other building outside.

“Fucking stop it, shit obviously isn’t working.” Adam dragged his hand over his face, obviously exhausted.

“Well, if you can travel through space just like that, what’s really stopping you from also going through time? We basically already know that alternative universes are a thing, if we think of both timelines as water streams, going at the same speed….or time?” You put your hands infront of each other, not touching having them touch, “You must have accidentally messed something up in your travels, causing you to fall out of your stream into ours…” Moving your right hand to bump it into your left one, you imaged the angel falling and tumbling into your world.

“…That’s so cool.” You whispered under your breath, the angels wings fluffed up, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking cool, babes.” He looked so proud of himself, as if he did it all on purpose. Idiot.

Adam glared at his doppelgänger, while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and yanking you into his side. He rubbed his chin against the top of your head, like an animal marking it’s territory. You were too far into your multiversal fantasies and connecting it to your physics classes, to notice the angle smugly grinning at Adam, as if he won that round. Weird macho behaviour, which you couldn’t care less for.

“What are we fucking supposed to do now?” Adam asked, carefully.

“..Is the couch free, bro?”

[dovveri]

sun-kissed

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 5 • part 6 • part 7

synopsis: an unexpected arrest deters filming for day 4 so instead, y/n and sana spend the day together. almost like a date?

warnings: mentions of child pedophilia! suggestive, cursing - i forget to tag that alot bcs its in all my fics but just assume its always there oop

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: okay this took me way longer than it should’ve to write but i think it’s maybe my favourite chapter so far… or maybe i’m soft rn 🤭 enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

could they have made any less of a scene?

the sirens have stopped but the blue and red lights continue to blaze as you stand in shock with the rest of the contestants while the cops raid the mansion.

sana had been taken away by the producers as soon as the police cars had pulled up.

when they're finally done checking the mansion, they walk out a cuffed wonsik. his head is down, refusing to look at any of you, hands behind his back as he's shoved into the back of the police car.

none of you had a clue what was going on, you were all enjoying the third rose ceremony and nothing could've predicted where this night had led you.

eventually, after the police have long driven away, the producers return with sana who looks a little shaken up. you head towards her immediately, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, but she can't seem to face you, eyes blank as she follows the producers instructions for everyone to come back into the mansion.

"sana? sana?" you're trying to get her attention, shaking her slightly.

she snaps out of it with a blink, looking up at you in confusion, "hm?"

"you okay? kinda lost you back there."

"mm yeah i just- it was just really unexpected."

"what was?"

she nods her head towards the producers who are now standing in front of the leftover contestants preparing to make an announcement.

"okay guys so we only just found this out but wonsik has been arrested on charges of owning child pornography, engaging in pedophilic acts, and sexual assault of a minor. the police have searched the house and confiscated all of his items and any incriminating evidence they could use in court. as you all know, we do conduct background checks on all contestants before they are accepted onto this show, and we apologise that this incident has been overseen. we won't be editing wonsik's arrest out of tonight's episode, but he has obviously been eliminated. we'll take tomorrow off filming to allow you all a small break and please do let us know if you have any concerns moving forward with filming."

what the actual fuck?

as soon as the producers are done with their announcement everyone is talking on top of each other, trying to figure out just what the hell happened and how this happened under everyone's noses.

"did you know?"

"holy shit i never saw that coming out of him-"

"man its always the quiet ones that are the most fucked up-"

you turn to sana in shock, feeling much like how she had looked just a little earlier. "sana?"

she's still a little distracted when she looks at you, "hmm? i'm tired y/n. let's go back home?"

you're nodding quickly, leading her away from the aftermath to the quiet cool of the outside air. you wave down your driver and quickly lead sana inside, stuttering out directions to your villa and sitting back, sneaking a glance at sana who's looking out the window with glazed eyes.

the drive back is silent save for the low hum of the engine. you're a little surprised when sana shuffles closer to you, linking her arm through yours and placing her head on your shoulder, still not saying anything.

you take her hand in yours, interlock your fingers, and lean your head on hers. the rest of the short drive is spent like this, the silence is thoughtful, but not awkward.

even as you arrive back at the house, your hands never leave each other's, you lead her towards your shared bathroom and brush your teeth side by side. only letting go of each other when you both go to start your nighttime skincare routines.

sana has a much more intricate routine than you because of her obsession with all things health-related and her need to take care of her skin well. so you finish earlier than her, mumbling a quick goodnight while she's still bent over the sink and moving past her to retire yourself to bed.

you close all the blinds, intending to have a full night's rest and wake up late tomorrow because filming was cancelled, climbing under your sheets and sighing at the feeling of soft fabric against your skin.

your eyes are slowly drifting shut when your door peeks open, and sana's slipping in, closing the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness again. she tiptoes to the edge of your bed, lifting the cover and sliding inside, cold feet come to entangle themselves with your legs, shuffling close as you get a whiff of her night serum, the sweet, tangy smell of mandarin subtly descending upon your senses.

"this is okay right?" she's murmuring against you, you're lying face to face, eyes sleepily open while your eyes readjust to the darkness, making out the soft curl of her eyelashes and the perfect slant of her nose.

you hum against her, sliding an arm over her waist and pulling her closer, resting your foreheads together and closing your eyes comfortably.

you think she's drifted off to sleep after a few minutes, but she speaks up in a whisper, barely there, you wouldn't have heard her if you weren't almost lip to lip, "y/n?"

"hm?"

you feel the soft breath of her sigh against your lips, "i... i should've known... he- i could've put him away faster- i gave him a platform- he was on national television and oh y/n, kids the kids he took advantage of could've seen him on tv and thought-" she's slowly panicking the tone of her voice getting shakier as she spirals and allows herself to voice her thoughts out loud for the first time, "-thought that he was in the right that it was okay that there were no consequences and then i kissed him oh my god i kissed him y/n and what kinda message does that send like-"

"sana sana baby shh, shh c'mere-" you're pulling her into you, tucking her head under yours and she starts crying and shuddering, hands twisted at the collar of your shirt.

"i just- like what's worse is i actually liked him-"

"mm no no sweetie stop stop. listen no-one knew what he was okay? it's not your fault you fell for him you can't blame yourself for that. he literally came here with the intention of making you do that you were just another one of his unlucky victims okay? and look, once this gets out on the news he's not going to have that platform anymore okay? in fact he'll probably hate that he came on here because he's going to be even more infamous than if he had stayed anonymous. we can only be real and truthful going forward so that those poor kids are validated in their feelings. he's going to be put away for a long long time now and he's not gonna have the chance to pull any more of that shit okay?"

she's sniffling into your shirt, listening to you talk and soothe her. you continue whispering sweet reassurances into the night, waiting for her to calm down.

she sniffles again, finally looking up at you, eyes red and snot dribbling out of her nose, your heart aches, "can we go out tomorrow? just us, like old times."

you smile at her request, nodding and pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead, "of course baby. we can go do whatever you want. i promise i'll be yours for the whole day."

she's smiling, thanking you softly and closing her eyes. you wait to hear the her breath slow into quiet even snores before you stop stroking her hair, just holding her against you and closing your own eyes. drifting off to sleep with the adorable mimimimi sound she lets out only when she's exhausted and sleeping well.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

the next morning the both of you wake up around 10am, a comfortable time that allowed you to sleep-in, but not so much that you'd miss out on the entire day.

some producers stop by to check in on sana and go through a small debrief of everything that's happened and what they have left to film in the show.

you can tell she's still a little on edge and wants to get away from everything as fast as possible so you politely ask the producers for time off today and to leave the both of you alone until tomorrow since no filming was happening anyway.

eventually, they're leaving and sana's throwing on casual white pants, a light cardigan on top of a knit button-up, sunnies, grabbing her prada handbag and she's ready to go.

you're lucky you have so many things at your disposal, even multiple cars in the garage to pick from as you grab a random set of keys and click unlock. spotting a white convertible respond with its headlights flashing twice and leading sana towards the car, hopping in. sana's mood has already improved greatly, bubbling with excitement as she lists off some names of a couple restaurants you could try in town for lunch. you smile at her nodding along and humming as you start the engine, pulling out of the garage and onto the valley road, turning on the radio and laughing at the way sana almost jumps out of her seat, neck craning up, eyes closing, letting the wind sprinkled with a hint of sea salt blow through her hair, breathing in a deep breath of satisfaction.

you know you're meant to keep your eyes on the road but it was empty anyway and sana looked so so beautiful. you traced the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips as she smiles, the sharp lines of her jaw, and the smooth plane of skin at her neck.

she's peeking an eye open at you, laughing when you realise you've been caught, her giggle high and airy. you loved her so much. and it was getting harder and harder to say that to her without it meaning something a little more.

you're pulling into town soon, she's babbling excitedly and pointing at things that interest her with the curiosity of a child, you're trying to find parking and smoothly drive into an angled spot just in front of the restaurant you had both decided on.

you're jumping out of the car and running to the other side to get her door, and she's giggling and smiling when you take her hand, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles, and helping her out of the car.

you enter the bustling shop hand in hand, smiling kindly at the waiter who greets you and ushers you to a table situated next to a large window, allowing a picturesque view into the bay area with a couple fishing boats coming back in after an early morning.

you continue your act of chivalry, pulling out her chair before she sits, and then walking over to take your own seat across from her.

you both glance over the menu enjoying the hum of a busy eatery.

"do you know what you want yet y/n?"

the words on the menu were quickly meshing together, lots of french and seafood terms you wouldn't be able to take a first guess at the meaning of. you pout and shake your head.

she giggles at your antics, "it's okay i'll order for us." she's waving over the same waiter who greeted you at the door, then listing off a few menu items, her french sounding poised and elegant, though you knew she had not-so-secretly spent a year obsessing over french ballet and had even taken up a few lessons herself, only to realise she was much too clumsy to continue it. she had thanked your mutual friend mina for the gracious lessons but resorted to attempting to learn french as an outlet for her obsession.

"-leave out the pickles in everything. and that'll be all thankyou."

your heart picks up a little at the small gesture. you despised anything with pickles in it, and she knew that, making sure you wouldn't have to pick out any of those sickly green slices.

you smile in thanks when the waiter leaves with your order, only to come back quickly afterwards with a bottle of chardonnay which she pours into two elegantly carved wine glasses she's brought along with her.

you raise your eyebrows at sana, questioning the alcohol, but she only sits forward, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning her head into it with a smile.

"day drinking?"

"what? i'll drink yours if you don't want it."

you roll your eyes at her affectionately, taking the glass and sipping, humming at the sweet and tangy bitterness that fills your mouth.

she copies your actions with a beam, setting her glass back down and licking her lips. you follow the action.

"is there anything else specific that you wanted to do today?" you're asking her, taking another sip from your glass.

"mm, not really. i don't mind as long as i'm with you."

"glad to know you're feeling well enough again to flirt."

"oh always with you baby. you're the only one for me."

"that's a bold faced lie and you know it."

she pouts at that, and you can't help yourself, leaning forward and pressing lightly on her bottom lip.

"stop that. put that back in there."

she licks your finger and you hiss, pulling away quickly in mock disgust while she laughs, "please you've made me suck on your fingers and now you're grossed out?"

the waiter decides to come with your first dish at that exact moment, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks when she overhears sana's comment, you don't fare much better when you flare up in embarrassment, hastily wiping your finger on your skirt and babbling out a loud thank you to the waiter.

you glare at sana who's trying her hardest not to laugh, no shame whatsoever, shaking in her seat at the effort of keeping it in, her lips pursed and eyes twinkling.

"you're so going to get it when we get back." you mumble as you stab into a mussel on the plate in front of you.

"awwwwh poor baby's embarrassed, don't worry, mommy will make it better."

your fork drops at the term and you feel yourself going extraordinarily red. she's laughing now, loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few onlookers and you throw your napkin at her, whining and slinking back into your chair trying to hide your face.

it's a few seconds after you've folded you arms across your chest and tucked your chin in, willing the heat in your cheeks to go away while staring into your lap, that sana's stopped laughing.

she picks up a mussel with her fork and holds it out to you, leaning forward onto the table again, eyes bright making an 'ahh' sound.

you turn your head, not giving her the satisfaction of paying her attention, but she's persistent, "c'mon y/n. i'm sorry i won't tease anymore i promise."

it's no surprise that you can't resist her, rolling your eyes and opening your mouth, accepting the fleshy piece of seafood and chewing. she's smiling and poking her own piece to put in her mouth, humming at the taste and making sure it was to your liking as well.

the rest of lunch is spent like this, playful and fun, it's good to be able to feel like yourselves again after all the hectic film shooting.

you're standing up to grab the bill after you're both finished when sana shakes her head at you, "i got it already don't worry."

"huh? what do you mean?"

"i told the waiter earlier in french so you wouldn't know. just let me treat this time? i still haven't really been able to thank you for coming along with me for this."

"what? sana this was like... a one hundred dollar meal at least. don't be silly let me pay you back."

she's humming and putting her cardigan back on, standing up and walking in front of you, "pay me back by winning something for me at the arcade?"

you sigh, grumbling along as she giggles at you, taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant, thanking your waiter who still looks a little off-put by you, and walking down the street to where you had spotted the small arcade earlier.

you purchase a hefty amount of arcade tokens and get straight into all the classics. sana just barely won air hockey against you, jumping and whooping with every goal, you have to take off your jacket midway through the game, sweating as you try and focus on hitting the little puck. you get her back on the dance machines though, you can't keep in the laugh when she somehow ends up sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled and missing every following beat.

you cycle through the arcade, speeding through mario kart and midnight run, shooting with abysmal accuracy at the gun games, trying your hand at some of the more unique japanese arcade games they have (which sana completely destroys you at), and eventually ending up at the wide variety of claw machines.

sana's pulling you towards one with spy x family collectibles, and you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to get the small anya keychain for her.

she's giving you instructions from the side of the machine, trying to give you as much perspective as possible before the time runs out and the claw drops. you wait with baited breath as it grabs the keychain, comes back up with a whir, and then... the keychain falls out at the bump at the top of the machine.

you don't even hesitate when you push in another token, determined to win this one thing.

sana's with you the whole way, her reactions only getting more and more expressive with each loss.

you're probably on your 9th try, the claw grabs onto the keychain, lifts it up, and with a whoop the keychain's falling successfully into the claim box. sana's caterwauling and jumping into your arms and you lift her up in glee, spinning her around once before setting her back down. you bend down to pick up the keychain, presenting it to sana with a flourish, and then she's kissing your cheek and squeezing you against her in a hug, thank yous spilling out of her in rapid succession.

you giggle against her, hugging back, relishing in the contact.

after you exchange your arcade tickets for prizes, you head down towards the docks, stopping for some ice cream before making it to the boardwalk.

there are a few other couples doing the same thing, and when you nod politely to an elderly couple holding hands, you're hit with the abrupt realisation that you and sana must look like a couple right now. unless people were homophobic, then you'd just be a couple of close friends, maybe roommates.

you're suddenly hyperaware of the sweat starting to collect on your palm, releasing her hand and wiping it on your skirt when she looks at you with a cocked head, mid-lick of her ice cream cone, eyes wide.

you switch your own ice cream cone to your other hand so it looks like you had an excuse to let go, avoiding her questioning gaze.

eventually you both decide to sit down at the end of the boardwalk, legs dangling over the edge and looking out across the bay. there weren't any boats currently docked in so you had a clear view of the blue vastness in front of you.

sana's leaning in and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"...what?"

she doesn't speak, her eyes darting down to your own ice cream cone and back up.

you roll your eyes and hold it out for her.

she's grinning and sticking out her tongue to lick a long strip along the side of your cone, humming in satisfaction.

"wanna try mine?"

"i'm okay thanks."

she's pouting and you can't have that so you lean in and lick some of hers, cringing at the overly sweet taste of artificial fairy floss but the smile she gives you afterwards makes up for it.

you both sit back and enjoy the light afternoon breeze, a calming presence after the hectic running around you did at the arcade.

"i missed this." sana speaks up first.

"me too."

"things have been pretty crazy with the house. i'm really glad that you're here with me though."

you turn to her and smile, "i'm glad you let me come."

"of course. the home visits later on are gonna get a little crazy. every season those are always full of drama."

"do you know who you want to end up there yet? your final four?"

she hums, thinking for a little, "still not really. we have... nine- wait no, eight since wonsik's a pedophile. so jacky, eunji, jihyo, momo, jun, jiwon, nayeon, and dae."

"it's a good mix i think. they all have different types of chemistry with you."

you're distracted by a buzz on your phone, taking it out and opening your messages.

miyeon: y/n!!!!! i just saw the news about wonsik! its everywhere rn r u guys okay?

"who's that?" sana's looking at your with a curious lilt in her voice.

you hesitate to respond, knowing how she reacted the last time you and miyeon were together.

"oh just my uncle. he's asking what to get my mum for her birthday later. you'd think he'd know since they're siblings but..." you trail off, typing a quick response back to miyeon.

y/n: it was crazy no one saw it coming! the producers called off filming today.. probably so they can deal with all the legal disputes that'll come up bcs of this

you tuck your phone back into your jacket, ignoring the new messages you get. you could respond to miyeon later. today was meant for you and sana.

sana's sighing and leaning her head on your shoulder, "wish i wore swimmers. it's such nice weather and the water looks soo good."

"we can head back and go for a swim in the pool if you want? we haven't had a chance to use it yet. may as well get the most out of being the main character on this show."

she's up in seconds, grinning, all fatigue gone as she practically prances back towards the car, only turning back to yell at you to hurry up.

you beam at her, running to catch up, laughing and smiling, just the two of you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

sana's yelping when you cannonball into the deep end of the pool, splashing her with cold water in your wake.

"y/n!!"

you break the surface grinning and laughing, trying to splash more water on her.

"sto- stop! y/n oh my god-"

"hurry uppppppp! it's not cold if you get it over and done with!"

"no! i need to put on sunscreen first!"

"sunscreen? it's 4pm!"

"there are still UV rays at this time! i don't want to die from skin cancer and if you're a good girl you'll get out and let me put sunscreen on you too."

you narrow your eyes at her while she's lathering her legs with the white cream.

you decide to ignore her, diving into the pool and resurfacing a few times, splashing around by yourself while she takes her sweet time. to be honest, you're glad for the coolness the pool offers you, when sana first stepped out in her pale yellow bikini, you had felt your cheeks blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. you'd avoided her gaze quickly, instead opting for racing her outside and jumping in right away.

now that she wasn't watching you though, you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted over to her. she had finished with her legs and was now applying lotion to her arms. you traced the outline of her-

"y/n!"

you startle in the water, and she's looking at you curiously when you make a sort of weird strangled sound and water goes swashing around. "y-yeah?" you clear your throat, hoping you weren't as red as you felt.

"can you help with my back? i can't reach." she's looking at you with a dangerous pout, eyes pleading.

you mumble incoherently as you swim towards the shallow end, stepping out of the pool and grabbing the sunscreen bottle from her, gesturing for her to turn around while she grins at you.

you squirt some of the lotion onto your hand, rubbing it diligently into her back. you knew how much she cared for her skin, and even though you cared significantly less for your own, it mattered to her so you had to make sure you did a good job.

the problem arose when you started reaching her lower back. the pressure you've been applying becomes considerably less when you realise just how close you are to sana's ass. sana's very very attractive ass, only emphasised in these bikini bottoms.

"feeling shy y/n?"

"s-shut up."

"you can do my ass too if you want y'know. it's not like it's anything you haven't felt before."

you can picture the cheeky smirk on her face while you recap the sunscreen bottle after you're finished. and really, you just felt like you had to do something about that so before you know it, a hand's coming down and smacking her, a loud resounding slap followed closely by sana's yelp.

you're jumping back into the pool, trying to push the image of her cheeks rippling in the most perfect way to the very back of your mind.

when you break the surface again with a bubbly laugh she's still standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.

"did you just spank me y/n?"

you stick your tongue out her in defiance, sending a splash of water her way.

"oh you are so dead!" she's jumping in now, and you're scrambling away trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. but she closes in quickly, tackling you underwater and pulling you down so you're both submerged.

you're grinning and then you're laughing, but not in a good way because her fingers are at your sides tickling you and digging into all of the sensitive points in your body she's discovered over the time you've known each other.

you spend the next few minutes trying to one up one another, droplets of water flying everywhere, noisy screeches and laughs sounding out. you're lucky this mansion of a house was situated in the valleys with no neighbours or you most definitely would've gotten a noise complaint.

eventually, you decide to call a truce, cheeks sore from smiling, stomach sore from laughing. you float onto your back, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh in comfort. you can feel sana floating next to you, your heads next to each other, hearts beating in tandem.

she’s speaking up after a minute, "cats or dogs?"

you snort, "i don't mind."

you can hear the whine in her voice, "just pick one."

you hum thinking about it for a little, "whatever suits my lifestyle better i guess. if i'm really busy with work or i have to stay home a lot then probably a cat. but if i have a big backyard or something then probably a dog. knowing me though, i'll probably end up with cats. i'm too lazy to keep up with the energy dogs have."

"not with me though right?"

"what? of course not with you. also, you're not a dog sana."

"people say i look like a shiba inu."

"that's not the same thing."

she giggles a little before sighing, "you suit cats. okay. it's decided. we're getting a cat when we go home."

"huh?!"

she's breaking into high-pitched laughter again and you can only find yourself to be slightly concerned over whether she's being serious or not. you could deal with that at a much later date though. you drift back into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the night wildlife slowly wake up in the valleys next to you.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"i love you."

your eyes are opening now, heart rate picking up. there's no reason to panic right? she meant it as a friend. a friend. so why was it so hard to say it back to her? as a friend?

instead, you say, "enjoy our date that much minatozaki?"

she doesn't respond with the same teasing tone you're expecting, "i really did." all honest and pure.

you're gulping, "...me too."

you know she's standing when you feel light waves push against your body, so you lift yourself up, looking at her puzzled, but she only goes to stand in front of you, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her waist.

you let her, squeezing slightly and dropping your head onto her shoulder, your eyes drinking in the pinks and oranges of the sunset.

"you're not gonna say it back?"

you stiffen behind her, "what?"

"you know what."

she's tightening her hold around you even before you try to subconsciously escape.

you let out an almost-laugh breath, "...i love you too sana."

"was that so hard?" she's turning now, pupils dilated when they meet yours, pink lips slightly parted, noses almost touching.

you're shaking your head no, breath caught up in your throat.

a crinkle appears between her eyebrows, you have the urge to smooth it out, "are you lying?"

another shake of your head.

you feel her breath against your lips as she lets out a soft exhale, the tightening of her hands against your forearms helping ground you, if only slightly.

"i hope one day you'll be able to tell me the truth." you're confused, what was she talking about? "for now i guess this is fine." and then she's leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

its almost an automatic reaction now. your mouth is moving against hers even before your brain registers you're kissing.

she's sweet, she always is. but this kiss is a little different. it's not filled with passion or heat, not like all your previous kisses that have always led to tangled limbs and heavy breaths. it's soft, tender, like she's trying to tell you something with her lips. you just weren't particularly versed in this form of sana communication yet to be able to tell what that was.

when she breaks away, the sun is dipping behind the horizon, her forehead leaned against yours, breaths coming in shorter after the lack of air.

she shivers a little when a cool gust of wind starts up.

"inside?" you ask.

she nods, letting you go, and following you out of the pool to dry off.

the rest of the night, even when you end up sprawled on messy sheets, sweat coating your bodies and arms around each other, your lips still tingle from her kiss in the pool. you fall asleep dreaming of small kittens, ice-cream, and sana.

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 2 (Steddie X You)

Part 1 Here

Warnings: Mafia Gangster Eddie/ Officer (Slightly Mean) Steve/ Fem Doctor Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, degrading (lightly), choking, spanking, Slight FLUFF, they like her

ANGST: Obviously (and not just cause I'm me), Boys interrogate Andrew (mentions of punching him and making him bleed, stabbing his hand), mentions of shootings, mentions of Child Abuse (definitely trigger warning), Eddie talks about an incident with his father that lead to him "getting his ass beat", mentions of Andrews abuse upbringing. Eddie talks about his fears of having another partner brought into his particular life style. Steve get a little short with the reader in the beginning but he apologizes. Cliffhanger ending again because I can :)

Word Count: 6818

“Not if we shoot you first.”

At Eddie’s words, you cocked the gun and pulled the trigger.

The man in front of you screamed in pain as Steve grabbed his arm and pried the weapon from his hand, shoving him to the ground. He hastily passed it to the gangster before stepping over the person you had just shot in the shoulder.

“Y/N, give me that.” The adrenaline and fear of what you just did coursed through you as your hands shook. You knew he was speaking but you couldn’t understand a word. “Y/N! GIVE ME THE GUN NOW!”

A heavy exhale left his lips as you pointed the weapon at him causing him to pause as he held his hands up once again. 

“Honey, everything’s ok. Hey, look at me. No. Don’t look at him. Focus on me, baby.”, Steve cooed as your eyes constantly flicked to the gangster in pain and bleeding on your living room floor. “I’m sorry I shouted. I’m not angry with you and neither is Eddie. Right, Ed?”

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

“See? You did good, baby girl. Now, remember what we said about letting us take control?” Tears began to stream down your cheeks as you nodded eliciting a soft smile from him. “Good. That’s good. Can you let us take care of this for you? Can you give me my gun, Y/N?”

Slowly, he inched closer to you, extending one of his hands as he continued to whisper praise.

“Good. Good, baby. You’re so brave. I’m going to grab the gun now, ok?” 

You nod your head a bit to aggressively and once again he smiles as he reaches for his weapon. After gradually removing it from your grip, Steve yanks you to him as he firmly presses your face into his chest.

“Everything’s going to be ok, Y/N. I promise. Stay right here with Ed and I’m going to grab my radio real quick just to make sure no one calls in the noise. I’ll be right back, ok?”, he instructed, running down the hallway once you confirmed. 

“Hey. How did you know where we were?”, Eddie growled from his place on his heels beside the other man. When he didn’t respond, he roughly grabbed his collar and tugged him upright. “Answer me.”

Andrew spit in the gangster’s face and he threw him back down, kicking him in the stomach for good measure. 

“Alright, here’s some pants, honey. I want you to get dressed and put on some shoes. You’re coming with us.”

“We should take her to my loft. The boys and I can watch out for her till we get all this resolved.”

“Am I not safe?”

Both sets of eyes turned to glance your way at your question and before they said a word you knew the answer. 

“Definitely not now after you shot one of Jason’s men.”, Andrew laughed sarcastically. “As soon as he finds out, he’s going to send people to rip you apart, you fucking whore!”

Steve stepped towards him, pressing his foot against the bullet wound making the man howl in pain.

“Shut. Up.” After his last word, the officer punched him in the face so hard it knocked the man out. “Y/N, come on. I need you to focus! Put these on and grab your shoes—”

You palm collided with his cheek hard and Eddie hastily placed himself between you two.

“This is all your fault! I told you I never wanted to see either of you again!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you protesting last night!”

“Fuck you, Steven!”

“You don’t get to fucking call me by my name like that, little girl. You will show me the respect I fucking deserve!”

 “HEY!”, Eddie bellowed, silencing you both. “Steve, grab this asshole and put him in the trunk of your cruiser. We’ll interrogate him in my building. Do you think you can manage that?”

With his eyes never leaving your own, he nodded before turning to do what the gangster commanded. Once the officer was out of sight, he faced you, gaze and tone equally as intense. 

“Put on your clothes and pack anything you may need for the next couple of days. After we find out how he knew where we were and make sure it’s safe, you can come back home.” When you started to protest, his eyes darkened to a level that told you it was time to listen. “This isn’t a negotiation. You’re coming with us. Now, we’ll be leaving in 15 minutes whether you have a bag or not so I would stop wasting time and do as we say. Do I make myself clear?”

Scoffing in annoyance, you begin to head towards your bedroom to pack but a ringed hand abruptly grabbed your bicep holding you in place. 

“I said do I make myself clear? I don’t like being ignored.”

“And I don’t like random gangsters breaking into my apartment.”, you sass. 

His eyes continued to bore into yours as his grip remained steadfast; neither of you willing to back down. 

“This is the second time in two days you’ve saved my life.” Eddie’s sentence threw you off guard as a shaky, nervous breath escaped your lips at his change in tone. “I’d like to return the favor by saving yours.” Releasing his hold on you, you gave him one final glance before running to your bedroom.

***

The Munson gang ran an entire area of Hawkins but the head himself had an entire building dedicated to him and his business. It was common knowledge that this was a place meant for certain people for certain reasons but rumors around town said police could never get a warrant or find anything incriminating to seize it and arrest people inside. 

“Stay by me and don’t say a word.”, Eddie commanded, flashing you a comforting smile when you nodded. 

Steve parked his cruiser around back, taking a side entrance so no one would see him going in, let alone with one of the rival gang’s men over his shoulder.

As you entered through the front door, the gangster’s entire demeanor shifted into a more authoritative one as he stood up as straight as he could and hardened his features. 

“Hey, Mr. Munson. We were really worried about you.”, a doorman greeted at the front desk. 

“I’m fine, Marcus. No reason to worry. I’m going to my loft; can you make sure no one bothers me? I don’t care if it’s the fucking mayor. Tell ‘em Edward Munson is busy.”

“Yes, sir.”

You watch with wide eyes as he motions for a man in a security uniform with his finger and whispers something you can’t hear into his ear. As you both stroll towards the elevator, a bunch of men run past you and exchange words with the man before disappearing from your view. 

As the doors close, Eddie pushes the top floor button, noticing your eyes scan the other floors. 

“These two floors are for men that work for me. Most of them are people who can’t afford homes or a place to stay so I set them up here. This one is for the kids and people to relax. There’s a pool there and a bar for everyone to have a good time. In this job you need to know when to let go and let your hair down.”, he smiles softly as he continues. “The floor above that is where we keep supplies and do planning if we need to. I have an office there as well that I work from when meeting with partners and things like that. And this…” 

The elevator door dings as it opens to a small hallway leading to a door that the man opens and gestures for you to enter. 

“This is my apartment.”

Your jaw drops as you step inside and marvel at the gothic style décor of the massive space he called home. There were many feets of open space filled with black furniture to match the setting. Along the walls were different guitars as well as media posters including multiple bands you imagined were his favorites. Near the open kitchen area was a set of stairs that led directly to his open bedroom where you were able to see a huge comfy looking mattress next to a window and a nightstand with some books you couldn’t make out from where you were standing. 

“This place is gorgeous.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Definitely a step up from a trailer.”

Steve banged the front door open as he wrestled with the man in his grip and tossed him roughly to the floor. 

“He was awake when I opened my trunk.”, he grunted in frustration as he headed towards the dining room table to grab a chair. 

“Y/N, why don’t you put your stuff on the couch and go to that fourth floor I mentioned. There’s a kitchen and you can—”

“I’d like to stay…please…”

Eddie’s eyes scanned you carefully as he delicately took hold of both your arms. 

“Pretty girl, what’s about to happen isn’t going to be pleasant. You’ve already dealt with and seen enough these past few days.”

“I’ve seen a lot most of life.”, you breathily chuckle. “Especially in my field. I just…this involves me to and I want to know how worried I should be. Plus…”, you glance towards the officer who was tying the rival gangster to his seat. “I’m scared and I feel like the safest place for me to be is next to you two. You promised me that…that you’d keep me safe.”, you whisper.

After pushing some of your hair behind your ear, he kissed your forehead before heading towards a closet off to the side. As Steve backed away from Andrew, it was just then that you noticed his chest was bare except for his holster making you salivate at how delicious he genuinely looked. The sound of his throat clearing brought you back to reality when your eyes landed his smirking face.

“Caught you.”

“I was, um, I was looking at your abs—”

“I bet you were.”

“At your bruises, officer.” His grin grew as he placed himself in front of you. “You’re going to aggravate your wounds if you keep doing things like this.”

“Doing what? Lifting people over my shoulder?” His strong palms take hold of your hips, picking you up, and placing you on the kitchen counter nearby. “I think I’ll be ok. Look, I’m…I’m sorry I was short with you back there. What you did was incredibly brave.”

“I forgive you. I’m sorry I smacked you.”, you murmur as you cup his face causing Steve to sigh happily as his eyes fluttered shut. 

“Are you sure you want to be here for this, honey? It’s not just what we’re about to do to this man but who we have to become.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise when he feels your lips softly connect with his own before his eyes open again to meet yours. 

“I want to see it.”

Nodding, he removes his holster and places it beside you just as Eddie comes up beside him, handing him some brass knuckles.

“I want you to know, Y/N, that what you are about to see is NEVER a way we would talk to or treat you. You never have a reason to be afraid of us.”

Eddie’s tone was a mixture of soft but strong as if he desperately needed you to understand this. It made you wonder if past relationships they had been in especially himself were scared away by the behavior they were about to display. Or maybe this particular man had experienced behavior like this on himself from someone he trusted. 

Again, you weren’t sure what it was about these men but you trusted them when they said this even reaching for the gangster’s face and kissing his lips. 

Flashing one last comforting smile, you watched as their faces slowly fell, their eyes darkening as they slipped into a particular headspace and turned around to face the unlucky man tied to the chair. 

***

“You know, I think it’s funny…that you two keep lying to this woman…you and I both know you can’t keep her safe.”, Andrew chuckles as he throws his head back to glare up at them. “You couldn’t even keep him safe!”, he sasses as his eyes gesture towards Steve.

They both smile at each other and Eddie places his hands on his knees as he dips his head into the man’s eyeline. 

“How did you know where we were?”

“Lucky guess?”

You jumped as Steve’s fist flew, hitting the gangster in the face so hard that blood flew from his lips.

“I always find it funny myself that Jason keeps men like you around who have zero insight whatsoever.” As Eddie spoke the officer continued to deliver blows to different parts of Andrew’s body. “Because if you did, you’d realize how much trouble you’re actually in.”

“Fuck…you…”

“How did you know where we were?”

Another witty retort, another punch delivered. They went around like this for a while with both men getting nowhere. As your eyes scanned the rival gangster, you noticed even with considerable amount of damage he received, he didn’t seem to be phased at all. While this lifestyle was rough and Andrew had probably been punched many times there was no way he could still be as cognitive as he was.

 “Were you beat up a lot as a kid?” Your voice cut through the chaos as all the men glanced your way. “Since you were a child, maybe?” 

Steve’s eyes scanned the bleeding man as his jaw clenched and he tried to sit up straighter. He had seen this before many times in interrogations. You were on to something.

“H-Hurting him like this won’t get through to him. He should be at the very least passed out by now but it’s kind of like a built-up tolerance. He’s been through this already and since he’s still so young… I would assume either he was bullied—”

“Which wouldn’t be the case, would it, Mr. Jock-I’m-Best-Friends-with-a-Prom-King?”, the cop teased. 

“…Or he grew up with it in his house.” 

Eddie’s gaze shifted from you back to Andrew as he folded his arms and waited for a response.

“Well look at that, Andy. It looks like you and I have some things in common.”

The gangster casually reached into his pocket and flipped open his switch blade eliciting a small whine from you at the action as the veins in arm flexed while holding it to the man’s throat. Why was that so fucking hot?

“Your father was a businessman if I’m not mistaken, just like my friend here.”, he muses as he pats Steve’s shoulder. “From the stories I’ve heard from him, I’m not surprised your dad was an asshole. Me on the other hand, I had the head of a mafia corporation as a parent. Trust me, Al definitely knew how to teach me and my mom a lesson.” The knife he was holding gradually traveled down Andrew’s chest to his stomach. 

“One day while he was at work, I stole a pack of cigarettes from his nightstand thinking with how much that man smokes he’d never notice. Joke was on me because when he got home, he dragged me out of bed and threatened to cut off my fingers if I didn’t tell him the truth.”

Abruptly, Eddie slams the blade into the man’s hand making him scream before Steve covered his mouth. 

“I told him what he wanted to hear and fucker still beat my ass.”, he laughs sarcastically. “How did you know where we were.” When all Andrew did was cry and whine, he twisted the knife causing him more pain. 

“I followed you! I fucking followed Steve from the station! Goddamn it!”

“Did you tell Jason where you were going?”

“NO! The last time I called him was as this fucking dumbass left! Jason told me, to grab you and kill Steve if he got in the way! I didn’t even know anyone else was in the apartment! If I had I would have fucking taken her out.”, he spat through gritted teeth. “Jason doesn’t care about your fucking whores, you fucking dick!”

As Andrew kept shouting obscenities, Eddie slowly moved till he was standing directly in front of you and his fingers reached out to caress your cheek. 

“But, oh, just you wait! Because when I tell him what happened, he’s going to torture them both in front of you so you can watch them fucking suffer! Sweetheart, I don’t know what these assholes promised you but I assure you aligning yourself with them is the biggest mistake you’ll ever making make!”

“Close your eyes, baby.”

As soon as you do what he says, you squeak and cover your ears as the deafening sound of a gun rings loud through the room. 

“Don’t open them until one of us says, ok?”

You nod as you listen to them move quickly around you. Eddie makes a phone call to a couple of his men and murmurs instructions to them when they come up to his home. Mid way through everything, you feel strong arms grip your wrists to wrap your arms around a sweat dripping neck. 

“It’s alright, honey. It’s just me. Hold on tightly, alright?”, Steve cooed as he lifted you off the counter and carried you up the stairs before placing you on a mattress. “You can open your eyes now.”

As you carefully pry them open, you are met with the officer’s soft honey irises as he kneeled in front of you on his knees. After removing your shoes and pants, he notices your hands that you had placed in your lap were subtly shaking. 

“Everything’s ok, baby girl. He was just shouting those things to rattle you. Andrew was never the carefullest criminal. I know he was Jason’s friend but I’m surprised he kept him around with all the mistakes that kid made.” His large hands cover your own as his thumbs comfortingly rub against your skin. “Eddie and I aren’t like that. We are very meticulous especially when it comes to each other. We aren’t going to let anyone fucking hurt you.”

You only muster a small nod before Steve tilts you back against the pillow and pulls the covers up to your shoulders. 

“Steve? Will you stay with me please?”

“Yeah, um, let me clean up a bit.”

Once everything was resolved, Eddie exhaustedly climbed up his stairs, taking off his shirt and tossing it aside before freezing at the sight in front of him. You and his boyfriend were fast asleep on his bed with you seemingly gripping his hand for dear life. Steve had placed his arm around your waist but you intertwined your fingers with his own and clung to his arm like child holds a teddy bear. He was the big spoon to your little one and for the first time in a long while the man he loved seemed to be sleeping peacefully. 

Carefully, he slid in beside you, kicking his shoes gently to the floor, and drifting off to sleep himself. 

############

“10-4 that’s a negative on Officer Harrington. If anyone gets eyes on him please be advised the captain is looking for him.”

Steve’s eyes groggily shot open just as Eddie rolled over to unclip the walkie from his vest on the floor and hand it to him just above your head. 

“Yeah, hey 10-4. Officer Harrington here. Does…Does he need me to come in?”

“For your shift? Yes, he would appreciate that.”

Checking his watch, he bolted awake and jumped from the bed to hastily put on his clothes. 

“Shit. I’m sorry. I overslept. These 48hr days are killing me. Tell the captain I’m on my way! Over and out.”

“Are you late, Steven?”, Eddie joked as he cracked his eyes open to watch the man fumble with his wardrobe. 

“Fucking…woman is like a valium. I’ve never slept so…heavy in my life.”, he mumbled as he threw on his vest and double checked to make sure all his equipment was attached. 

“Is it her or the long hours you’ve been working lately to protect me?”

“Is she staying with you today?”

“Way to avoid the question, sweetheart. That’s up to her. Since Jason and the rest of them don’t know about her she can go home and we can follow through with leaving her be.”

Steve paused, letting his shoes dangle in his hand as what the man was saying fully sunk in.

“Oh, I guess you’re right. I just, um…”

Eddie’s eyes fully open as he sits up and leans his head on the officer’s shoulder while comfortingly rubbing his back. 

“I know. I like her to but she really needs to think about if this is a life she wants to be a part of. We didn’t exactly have a choice but she does.”

***

When you wake up, you find yourself alone in bed again but as the familiar panic washed over you, the smell of bacon and eggs settles your worried brain. Glancing beside you, you notice your bag was put on a chair near the bed as well as a towel as if to silently inform you that you could take a shower before coming down if you wished. 

Grabbing your things, you tiptoe into the bathroom and quickly change. When you finally pause and exhale a nervous breath, your gaze shifts taking in the beautiful area before you. The claw tub was exceptionally huge with an equal size attached standing shower. The black tile matched the décor of the rest of the apartment with the white contrast of everything else making the furniture stand out. 

As you pulled up your hair, you took in the items on the sink in front of you taking amusement in the fact that none of it looked expensive. You’d figure as a man who owned this kind of space and ran an entire gang, EVERYTHING he owned would be top-notch. Not to say that you didn’t enjoy the smell of Eddie’s cologne or Steve’s travel sized bottle of hair product. You weren’t the type of woman that needed lavish things and appreciated the fact that it didn’t seem like they did either. 

After spraying on your own body spray, you tossed your things to the floor and took a seat on the bed to slide on your shoes. You didn’t mean to be noisy but you couldn’t help being curious as you took in the things around you. On the wall directly across from you was a framed poster for the movie “Evil Dead” and directly beside that a guitar with a signature scrawled across that you couldn’t make out from where you were.

On the nightstand were regular things such as a clock, cigarettes with an ashtray, and a book you assumed was fantasy by the fantastical cover but a framed photo caught your eye as you lifted it to take a closer look. 

It was an image of the officer and the gangster in bed holding each other with Steve asleep just below Eddie’s bare chest. His tattooed arm extended out in front of him to get them both in frame as he softly grinned while playing with the other man’s hair.

Smiling to yourself you placed the image back down where you found it and quietly opened the drawer below. Your eyes flicked to the gun that was nestled there, ignoring it as you flipped through some papers you found with words that made no sense and sketches of he and his boyfriend in oddly sexy looking Renaissance style garb. 

“Steven Harrington, the salacious, handsome Paladin came to bring justice to Rouge Edward Munson but little did he know that this particular man had a little magic up his sleeve seducing the knight and falling love. Edward had never been in love before but he knew after that night in the Paladin’s carriage, he would do anything for him.”

“I love you to, you nerd.”

You giggle at what you assume is Steve’s comment and place the papers back in the drawer. Near the back was a photo album and your smile grew as you looked at the images within.

“Hm. Steve was right. You are nosey girl.”, Eddie scolded in a light tone as leaned against the railing by the stairs. 

“You really love him don’t you?”, you ask, flashing him a picture of the officer rolling his eyes with a smile as the long-haired man laid himself over his shoulders, locking his hands lazily around his neck. 

“Yeah, I do.”, he answers as he comes to sit beside you. “I honestly never thought I would…fall in love you know…and definitely not with a fucking cop but…like that saying says, ‘You can’t control who you fall in love with.’”

The gangster’s eyes carefully watch your face as you continue to flip through the images of them together, only looking away when he noticed you blink as your head tilted. The photo you were looking at was what you guessed was a younger Eddie in front of a woman in a beautiful pink gown with wavy curls like his own. He was grimacing as she kissed his cheek but that didn’t erase the happiness that emitted from his demeanor. 

“Is this your mom?”, you ask and he affirms. “You look like her.”

“Heh. Thank you, princess. You have no idea how much hearing that means to me.” Turning the page, you find a couple more images of them together but as you continue forward you notice his body language change as a 10-year-old Eddie is standing between two men that look vaguely like him. “That was taken right before my dad left me with my uncle.”

“What happened to your mom?”

“She died.”, he sighed as he suddenly grabbed the album from your hand and put it away. “Come on, I made you something to eat.”

After following him down, you place yourself on one of the stools and wait patiently for him to slide a plate in front of you with a cup of coffee. You mutter thanks as you begin to eat trying to ignore the fact that the gangster’s chocolate-colored irises were once again burning a hole into your skin as he stared at you.

“When I was six.” Eddie stated matter-of-factly as he leaned over the island close to where you were sitting and continued. “My mother died when I was six. I lived with my dad after that but…let’s just say he wasn’t the best father.”

“Was the story you told last night real?” When he nods, a sad sigh leaves you. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

He shrugs brushing off the feeling of sadness that always washes over him when he talks about this topic. 

“So, yeah, since it seems the Carver’s don’t know about you…I can take you home…and you’ll never hear from us again. I’m, uh, sorry about everything. I promise you won’t get in trouble or anything like that.”

“Oh. Do you want me to leave?”

“No…but I don’t want you to feel trapped either.”, he sighs. “Y/N, we like you so much. I know you said we don’t know you and I understand that but there’s something about you…” When he pauses, you watch as he stands up straighter and hardens his expression like he did when you two first walked into his building. “Steve and I had no choice in the life we chose. Like I told you the other night, I’m a gangster; I kill people. Steve’s killed people and done some other terrible shit that could get him put in prison for the rest of his life. We’re both assholes and as I’m sure you’ve notice have tempers at times. We like to control as much as we can which is hot as hell in the bedroom but can be infuriating anywhere else.”

Stepping around to your side of the island, he swiveled your stool till your body was facing his as his fingers gripped your chin. 

“If you stay you’re ours. No one would hurt you or disrespect you because you’d be ours and everyone knows not to mess with things that belong to me.” Your breathing stuttered as his thumb grazes your lips. “We like that you’re strong with a bit of an attitude but you seem like you can also submit and listen which is perfect for men like us. Because that tells me you can handle us, not just out there but under the covers as well.”

Your eyes close as the tip of his nose grazes yours, the humid air from his breath warming your lips. 

“Or anywhere else we feel like having you. Against your apartment wall, in the back of Steve’s police car, or even… on this countertop.”

Grabbing his face, you bring his lips to your own mewling at the taste of his tongue as it glides along your own. There was an immediate sense of urgency in your movements as if you didn’t have him now you would implode. 

“Wait… your cut—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Trust me. Fuck.”, he groans, pulling you out of your chair and spinning you around to bend your top half over the marble in front of you. 

Eddie hastily yanks down your pants and panties before fumbling to free his cock from his shorts and spitting in his hand as he strokes it along his length. With his palm pressed to the small of your back, you both moan as he runs his tip between your folds, collecting your slick, and guides himself into your core. 

“Oh fuck. Steve was right. Fuck, princess, your pussy is so fucking tight.”

“Eddie…”

“Yeah, baby? Does my dick feel good?” You whine at his question, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts allowing him to hit that sensitive inside of you that has your eyes rolling as your head hangs. As one of his palms abruptly smacks your ass, the other grabs a handful of your hair, and tugs you backwards till your feel his lips against the shell of your ear. 

“I asked you something, little girl. When I ask you something I expect a fucking answer. Does my dick feel good stretching your tight little pussy open?”

“I…I can’t…”

Eddie grumbles through clenched teeth as he wraps his arms around you; one looping around your tummy and the other across your chest so his hand can lightly grip your throat. He pressed your back against him and you whimper as he rolls his hips slower but harder, slamming his cock impossibly deep into your cunt.

“You can’t what? You—fuck—you can’t fucking use your words to answer me? Aw, poor pathetic little girl. So dumb off my cock she can’t even speak.” The palm near your stomach travels between your legs and slaps your clit making you jump. “And so sensitive to. I like that.”

Turning your head slightly, you press your forehead against his cheek and Eddie dips his chin so his lips can kiss yours. 

“Y-Your cock…your cock feels so…so fucking good, Eddie!” You rush out your last few words making him grin as he pushes you back down against the counter and pounds into you. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. I want to feel you squeeze me.”

Your hands clung to the counter as your body shook and you came hard around him. The gangster grunted at the feeling chasing his high until you heard him moan your name under his breath and feel his release warm your insides. 

After he pulled out, you turned your body to face his right as his forehead leaned against your own. Eddie’s eyes were still closed as he continued to pant, his palms resting under your shirt against your lower back. 

“I’m afraid.”, he murmured throwing you off. 

What could a man like him possibly be afraid of? His eyes gradually opened meeting your confused ones before continuing. 

“I wasn’t prepared for Steve nor was I prepared for how much I would come to love and care about him. I would kill for that man and if anyone took him away from me…” He exhaled heavily, shaking his head as if to wipe away the thought entirely. “Like I said, there’s something about you… we weren’t prepared for you either and the way I feel about you after these few days… I’m afraid to be vulnerable like that again. Not just for me but for my business. Another vulnerability is another thing someone can use against me. It’s not just about me when it comes to this gang. I have a lot of people that need me and look up to me…sort of like your patients.”

Your hands cup his face as you tenderly lean forward to kiss his lips.

“Maybe…we all have some thinking to do. I know you said you didn’t have a choice in your lives but you both very much did and do. Being a doctor was who I was meant to be but I very much had a choice of where I opened my clinic and the people I help. I could have turned you both away… I knew Steve wasn’t going to hurt me… but I helped you…”

Eddie nodded in understanding, backing away from you as you two got fully clothed again. 

“Would you like me to drive you home?”

“Please.”

###############

Steve exhaustedly sauntered into Eddie’s loft, pulling off his gear and everything he didn’t need as he tossed them on the couch. 

“Hey you.”, the long-haired man smiled as he came down the stairs and tenderly kissed the officer as both men fell onto the sofa behind them. 

“How was your day?”

“Long. They’re still looking into Carver’s men being murdered but at some point they’ll give up. The higher ups honestly prefer to let you guys duke it out on your own.”

“Did they mention Andrew?”

“No but it’s too soon for Jason to really be worried yet. I imagine you’ll hear from him before we do.” Steve smiled softly as Eddie’s fingers gently ran through his tussled hair and petted his head. “How’s Y/N?”

“She’s good. We had a bit of a talk today and then I took her back to her apartment—”

“You what?”, the officer interrupted in a sharp tone. “So that’s it? You just said a few words and that was that?! You just took her home?!”

“Steve, calm down—”

“NO! Don’t tell me to calm down!”, he shouts as he rises to his feet. 

“I thought we agreed that if she wanted to go home and be left alone we would honor that.”

“You didn’t even let me get a chance to say how I feel!”

“Oh? How DO you feel, sweetheart? What would you say if she was here right now?”

“I’d say that I fucking care about her! I think she’s witty and kind... She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Besides you, I’ve never wanted to protect and take care of someone more than I do her. Every day I go out there and risk my life but no one fucking cares except you which is one of the many things I love about you. She makes me feel the same way. I feel like she genuinely cares if I’m in pain or hurting.”

“She’s a doctor, babe.”

“It’s more than that, Ed, and I know you know that. FUCK! I wanted to get to know her better. Now she’s going to think we just used her for her clinic and sex. I hate that that’s the last idea she has of us.”

“I don’t think that at all.”

Steve’s head whipped around at your words finding you at the bottom of the staircase in similar pajamas they saw you in when you were watching over Eddie.

“You didn’t let me finish so I thought I’d let you get it all out.”, the gangster smirked. “I was going to tell you I took her back to her apartment because she asked to get a couple of things so she could stay with us for a few days.”

“So we CAN talk and get to know each other better.”

Relief painted Steve’s face as he listened to you speak before determination darkened his eyes and he strides confidently towards you, lifting you into his arms, and carrying you back up the stairs. 

Tossing you onto Eddie’s bed, you couldn’t help but giggle as he roughly but needily tore off your clothes as his lips roamed all over your skin.

“I told you, sweetheart, passionate with a good heart.”, Eddie teases as he takes a seat in the chair beside the mattress. 

You grinned his way as Steve sucked and nibbled on your neck, his pant covered cock grinding against your core as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Fuck. Did you get to feel her today?”, the officer groaned towards his boyfriend as your lips picked up where he left off, trailing down his jawline while your fingers unhooked his belt and tried to push down his trousers.

“I did and you were right.”, the gangster answered as he leaned forward to capture Steve’s lips. “Her pussy is too fucking good and so tight especially when she comes. Just like you, baby.”

You and Steve moan loudly as you grip his length and guide him into your dripping heat making Eddie’s smirk widen as he licks his lips. 

“There you go, pretty boy. Fuck her harder with that big, thick cock. Little girl doesn’t mind it rough, do you baby?” The moment your head shakes, a hand shoots out to pinch your cheeks and adjusts you so your eyes meet his. “What did I say about unanswered questions?”

The man above you pants heavily as he watches your face while his partner’s palm shifts to your throat and squeezes. When he releases his grip, a hiccup and a mewl leave your throat that has Steve grunting aggressively as he pumps into you harder till your eyes close. 

“I…I don’t mind it—shit—I don’t mind it rough. Steve, please.”

“You want to see something that really gets him going?”, the gangster whispered in your ear.

You watch as his palm gently runs through his boyfriend’s hair, down his back, and guides effortlessly over his ass. Steve’s head shot up, his mouth falling open into a wide O as Eddie pushed two of his fingers deep inside of his entrance. 

Pushing up on to one of his palms, he pounded into you making your cunt cling to him as you listened to all the beautiful sounds that fell from his mouth. 

“There you go, baby. Make her cum. Make this good girl cum.”

The coil in your stomach violently snapped, your back arching into his chest as you cried and screamed his name. It was too much for him as Steve fell flat on top of you and chased his high, slamming his seed deep into your body. 

“Are you okay?”, you murmur as you nails run softly down his back. 

“Yeah…fuck…I’m fine. I’m…I’m glad you decided to…to hang around.”, he pants as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Need some water, hun? We ain’t nearly close to being done.”

You both chuckle at Eddie’s words as he tilts down to kiss your lips. 

##############

ONE WEEK LATER

“What’s got you all smiley?”, one of the nurses asks you as she passes by your office.

“Nothing, I’m just happy. Am I not allowed to be happy?!”, you joke as the young lady laughs at your response. 

“You are absolutely allowed to be. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you wear any other emotion beside stress and worry. Dr. Y/L/N wouldn’t have happened to meet a new guy now did she?”

“No…”, you blush. 

“Oh my god, you did! I have to know everything.”

“Isabella, did you come to my office for a reason?”, you deflect.

“Your new patient is here and ready to see you.”

You grin at her as you head down the hallway to the exam room, your grin promptly falling as you read the chart. 

“Izzie, are you sure this is the right file?”

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“No reason.”

Her eyes continue to scan you over as you heavily exhale and open the door, stepping inside. A gentleman in a nice suit and a green button up underneath turned to face you beaming from ear to ear as he stepped closer to where you were standing. 

“Hello there. You must be Dr. Y/L/N. It’s nice to make your acquaintance. I’m Jason Carver.”

#############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer 

[ghoularaki]

the lonely district

↠  summary: In the years after the slime monster incident and Midoriya's disappearance, he had come back to haunt both you and Bakugou. He no longer was the boy you once knew, but a villain ready to take what was his. Revenge was best served cold, afterall.

↠  word count: 7, 523

↠ pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader x midoriya izuku

↠ genre/warnings: smut, angst, prohero au, DARK CONTENT, villain deku, yandere, shock collars, implied stalking, kidnapping. NSFW (NONCON, sub! reader, (reluctant) switch! katsuki, dom! izuku, fuck or die, loss of virginity, creampie, spanking, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, blowjob, no aftercare)

↠ a/n: this is an old fic i have been trying to finish since 2019 so im sorry if the writing feels inconsistent. i just really wanted to finally finish it since it was half finished. also excuse the very outdated villain deku trope rip

It’s been a long day and honestly you just wanted to go home. For some reason, your supervisor thought it was a good idea to pair you with Dynamight or rather Bakugou Katsuki—your childhood friend. If you could even call him that. For the longest time, you both had not gotten along, but since you had the mutual friend of Midoriya Izuku, you had to interact. That all changed when Bakugou got his quirk and he turned into a cruel bully. The dynamic and interaction formula was always the same: Bakugou would torture Midoriya in any way he could, Midoriya would just let it happen and you would defend him, turning it into a full blown brawl between you and Bakugou. It stayed like this for a while until that day Bakugou was held hostage by that slime monster and Midoriya went missing.

After that you had clung onto Bakugou in a desperate need to make sense of both of them getting hurt on the same day and the loss of your best friend. Surprisingly, Bakugou let you. But not without string of degrading names following. Despite his harsh words, he never once pushed you away anytime you silently sought comfort. Even though he didn’t act like it, he too was affected by Midoriya’s disappearance. Maybe he felt guilty, maybe he just missed his punching bag, or maybe he finally matured.

You would never know since he was so emotionally constipated. It was a bitch and a half just to get him to admit that you were one of the most important people in his life. Even now as you are both pro-heroes in your early twenties, it’s difficult for him to call you his best friend. Sure, he would be concerned if anything happened to you—that worry built with your childhood friend missing—he would rather die than confess to that.

Thing is, Midoriya didn’t stay “missing” for so long. No, he wasn’t found nor was his body. No, he never returned to his poor mother after years of being gone with open arms. No, there was never a “welcome back” sign, but his face plastered on every wanted poster within Japan. The bastard had joined the League of Villain with a big ol’ grin on his freckled face. That cursed day when you met with those emerald eyes again had haunted you forever. Tears streamed down your face, watching him be reborn into a whole new person. He didn’t have an ounce of guilt in his bones, he only gave a maniac smile, mocking you. 

Didn’t you miss me, N/n-chan? You look a little… sad, He drawled out with a smug look, glee coursing through his veins as you sob as if you had found him dead instead of him breathing, finally alive. 

It was when he had escaped that Bakugou for once let you clutch onto him, holding in his own sorrow as you openly sob into his shirt. And he did it again when the League of Villains was supposedly defeated but Midoriya or rather Deku still ran rampant. 

That’s where you two are now, there was another sighting of Deku in the area and you were assigned to bring him to face judgement. You knew what would become of him if you caught him. Still clinging onto the memory of an innocent child, you almost hoped that you would never find him. 

Bakugou had other plans.

Since day one he had wanted to find that bastard (his words, not yours) and give him absolute hell for becoming a villain. 

“It’s probably just another false alarm, just like the other seven,” You sassed him as you both walk towards an alleyway. 

“Doesn’t fucking matter, we still have check just in case this time it’s not,” Bakugou growls stopping away.

You rolled your eyes and made a face at him from behind his back.

As if he had a sixth sense, he barked, “I know you’re being a brat. I would stop if I were you or else you want your ass blow into the fucking stratosphere.”

Once you both got to the alley way only to be met with a dumpster, you pivoted and raised your brow at Bakugou. He rolled his eyes at you and went towards the dumpster. He opened it to see if there was any hints or evidence Deku even here. Still standing near the entrance of the alley, you the hair on your neck rose. A primal instinct that you were being watched set alarm bells ringing in your head. As subtle as you could, your eyes bounced around the enclosed area in hopes to find the danger before it finds you. 

A bad feeling sunk in your stomach like a rock does in water. Hesitantly you said, “Hey Dynamight, I think we should leave.”

“And why the fuck should we, Umbra,” He spat out your hero name. 

“Because,” you strained, still observing your surroundings, “I have a bad feeling about this. I think we should leave and get some back up.”

He slammed down the lid and stalks up to you, venom in his voice, “Are you running away from a fight.”

“No—” You started, but he cut your off.

“Oh really,” He mocked, “Because to me, it seems that you are.”

“Can you not be an asshole for a couple seconds and listen to me?” Your voice pitched, not understanding why he’s being so difficult. 

“Listen to you? Now why would I listen to you when it seems to me that you are avoiding any place that could have him in it?” You were about to start defending yourself when he cuts you off again. “It’s almost like you don’t want to find him.”

Your eyes widen at him, you couldn’t even feel offending knowing it’s the truth. Though, you rather not fuel Bakugou’s already large ego and denied him. “I’m just trying to make sure none of us get hurt!”

“I don’t need your fucking concern, I can beat any asshole including him easily,” He boasted.

“Oh get the fuck over yourself,” you barked, scowling at him. “Stop acting like you’re the fucking best, asshole.”

“I’m sorry what was that, Number Seven Hero?” Bakugou stepped closer until his face were mere centimeters away from yours. You just glare up at him, not caring that the height difference made you seem less intimidating. 

“This isn’t the time for a dick measuring contest, something doesn’t fucking feel right here and I just want to make sure neither us get seriously injured.” You jabbed your finger in his chest to emphasized your point.

“I don’t need your fucking help!” He roared and grabbed on your wrist to throw it away from him. 

You ran your fingers through your hair and then pull at it in frustration, “Why can’t you just let me help you—help us for once! You don’t always have to be the savior,” You let out a growl before finishing, “Fleeing isn’t being a coward, it’s being smart enough to analyze the situation and your own weaknesses!”

“So you’re call me fucking stupid now, you shitty brat,” he bit.

“That’s all you got from that?!” You screeched before letting out a laugh that held no humor, “You’re fucking helpless.”

“Helpless? I’m the helpless one? You’re the one that wants to fucking run away just because you ‘have a bad feeling’.” He did air quotes around what you had said.

“Oh God, Lord fucking forbid, I’m just looking out for both of our asses since you want to play big macho man!”

As you both start a screaming match with each other, you failed to notice the emerald eyes stalking you like a cat does a mouse. 

“You’re so fucking clingy just like that damn Deku, hop off my dick,” He snarled and clicked his tongue at you as if you were a misbehaving child.

Rage built up within your chest at his ill words. Syllables that were only meant to maim almost leave your tongue when you heard a noise a little too close to comfort. Adrenaline coursed through your bones, knowing your suspicions were right. You grabbed onto Bakugou’s wrist and turned towards the dark corner of the alley to fade into the shadows in hopes to escape. You ignored how he starts to yell profanities at you. Before you could even take two steps, you were pulled back by your hair into a firm body. 

You let out a grunt at the sting from the strands being pulled from their follicles. 

“Not so fast,” The voice whispered in your ear. 

Growling, you elbowed the person in the stomach and jump away from them before they could grab you again. When you turned around, you jaw dropped in shock.

“Izu-chan?” You stuttered out. 

“In the flesh,” he taunted with arms raised to the side.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. He had matured so much since the last time you saw him. His hair was shorter but still as unruly, his jawline was chiseled along with his cheekbones, he still wore a dress shirt with a vest and tie, but for once it was tied properly. 

“Finally decided to fucking show up,” Bakugou seethed. 

Midoriya pouted as he lets his arms drop with a whomp sound against his outer thighs.

“Oh come on, Kacchan don’t be like that. I thought this could be like a family reunion,” He gives a grand smile before it dropped, venom in his tone, “Didn’t you miss me?” 

“Sure, miss you so much, you shit stain.”

Midoriya fiegned hurt and clutched his chest in dramatics, “Oh, how you wound me so, dear Kacchan.”

Bakugou straightened out his back and got in a offensive position, “Enough with the fluff, Deku. It’s time I send your ass to jail.”

Cheek twitching, Midoriya glanced at you still shellshocked. Bakugou came at him, arms positioned behind him to perpell him at the shorter male. Right as Bakugou raised his fist to blast Midoriya in the face, he grabbed you and placed you right in front of him. Bakugou skidded to a halt with widened eyes, not wanting to hurt you in the process. You locked eyes with him. Your knees wobbled from being manhandled so easily.

“Using a girl to shield you is low.”

Midoriya simply shrugged and brought a hand up to cradle your throat. His fingers tightened when he felt you gulp underneath his gloved hands.

“Scared, Love?” He slithered in your ear. He looked down at you, before peered up at Bakugou. At his enraged expression, he licked the shell of your ear. You whimpered and flinched away the best you could.

This was exactly why you didn’t want to meet Midoriya. Even before he disappeared, he was smart and cunning. He knew how to get under Bakugou’s skin, and render you useless. Tears bubbled up as you faced the fact the boy you once loved had died long ago. Pretending to still trembled, you subtly widened your stance. Bringing a hand to Midoriya’s, he took it as you sniveling.

“Shh, don’t cry.”

Looking at Bakugou, you hardened your expression. Quickly, you gripped Midoriya’s wrist and with all your might you stepped forward and used his weight against him to throw him over your shoulder. When his back hit the ground, he let out an irritated grunt.

Wasting no time, you grabbed the quirk cancelling handicuffs on your belt and raced towards him. As you went to straddle him, he kicked your feet from under you and you fell with him. Bakugou took your place and was on top of Midoriya in no time. With acute flexibility, Midoriya spun around and kicked Bakugou in the face.

“Gah! Fuck,” Bakugou growled while gripping his face.

Wind still knocked out of you, Midoriya focused on Bakugou.

“You were always stupidly resilient,” The villain seethed. “I’m done playing games.”

“Good, because so am I.”

Bakugou lunged at him, ready to blast him to kingdom come. Midoriya side stepped his attack. Huffing, he went at him again. The two of them stayed the dance for a while. Any attack Bakugou attempted to do, Midoriya merely avoided with such leisure. The asshole even had his hands behind his back.

Watching as you got up to join the fight as well, Midoriya sighed. “Stubborn, the both of you.”

With such grace, he grabbed Bakugou’s hair and slammed his knee into his face. Stunned, the hero stumbled back. Before he could process the hit, Midoriya kicked him in the head, rendering him useless. Your mouth gaped at Bakugou being so easily taken out. His lids flickered as he struggled to get up.

“R-run,” He commanded, before falling.

Scrambling away from the villain, you sucked in your breath as you go to phase into the shadows. Before you could, Midoriya gripped you again. This time, his hands wrapped the column of your throat and squeezed. Frantically, you slapped against his forearms.

Adding more pressure, he leaned over you as you form slacked to the ground.

“Sweet dreams.”

Bakugou was the first to come to his senses. He squinted his eyes to adjust to the light that hung above him. He groaned as he observed his surroundings, noticing that he was in a dingy basement. There wasn’t much besides a queen size bed near the corner along with a door that he had no idea where it led and an opening with stairs peeking around the corner from where he saw.

Clutching his head, he turned to see your still slumbering form not far from him. Panic built up in him as he scrambled over to you and sighed in relief when there is no sign of vital injures. He starts to shake you awake, trying to think of a plan to escape.

After a couple moments, you let out a hum and your eyelids fluttered open. Just like Bakugou your eyes squinted at the sudden light probing at your pupils. 

“Katsu,” You groaned, mind still fuzzy so the old nickname slipped out. Your throat killed.

Bakugou shakily exhaled, glancing towards the concealed stairwell, “Yeah, it’s me.” His hands are gentle as he helped you up into a sitting position. You lean against his chest, body to exhausted to even hold yourself up. Which was odd to you since you were sure that Bakugou got the brunt of each hit that Midoriya landed.

“Where are we?” You asked huskily despite knowing that he probably was just as clueless as you.

“Why the fuck would I know that, brat,” He bit, before sighing and apologizing. He’s just irritated that you both were captured.

“It’s fine, it was a stupid question, anyway,” You smile up at him. 

Bakugou looked down at you and then furrowed his brow when he sees the collar around your neck along with a prominient bruise. Now that he thought about it, he felt one around him, too. You seemed to also notice as you reached towards him and traced the collar, confusion written on your face.

You and him were clad in different clothes as well. Instead of his hero suit, he now adorned plain sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You were wearing the same, but shorts instead. What a fucking perv.

Before you two could question each other, the thud of door opened and closed, followed by rhythmic footsteps coming down the stairs. Your heads snapped to the sound and Bakugou took a defensive stance to see Midoriya strut into the basement with a valiant smirk. You scrambled to stand with Bakugou, but your legs give out for a second and he had to catch you. Once you were sure on your feet, you glared at the man in front of you. 

“Aw why such aggressive faces,” The villain pouted.

“You know damn well why, you fucking bastard,” Bakugou seethed, tiny explosions crackling in his palms. 

You glanced to the shadows creeping up the walls. Shifting your attention to the stand off that the two men were having, you only hoped Bakugou could distract Midoriya enough for you to slip passed him. Ignoring the way your heart pounds at the thought of joining the darkness once again, you raced towards the vantablack. Almost like predicting your movements, Midoriya grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. His arm snaked around your waist. You struggled as best as you can, but his grip got so tight a squeak left your lungs.

“Aw, N/n-chan, you so adorable,” He nuzzles into your neck. He trailed his cold nose up the slope your neck, purposely digging into the bruise, up to your cheek so he could whisper in your ear, “Have you ever heard of cute aggression? It’s quite a funny concept. Humans when we see something cute, we just find the need to squeeze it until it cries or even die. Funny, right?” As he speaks his grip only got tighter and you stand straight as a pole as he licked the shell of your ear, again.

“Get the fuck away from her, you freak.” 

Bakugou took a step towards you, but Midoriya dropped his hold on your wrist, to fish something from his dress pants pocket. The hero observed the other man, not wanting to be too brash when your life is on the line. He won’t make the same mistake twice.

Midoriya started to fiddle with what looks like a remote between his gloved fingers. “I would be careful what you say, Kacchan, because the results may be… shocking,” He smirked to himself at his own little inside joke. 

“What was I saying, my angel?” Midoriya began, but you kneed him in the crouch and jumped away from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You commanded, ready to fight your childhood friend—no, this villain.

Instead of instantly attacking, Midoriya stayed bent down, clutching his stomach as he giggled. A shiver crawled up your spine at his laugh that lost all warmth it once had. He was insane. He cackled for what seemed to be ages before he stands up straight and all humor gone from his face. 

“Interrupt me one more time, and I swear to god,” He snarled, his doe eyes dropped into menacing slits. “As I was saying,” Midoriya reached for you again, but you slapped it away.

“I said don’t touch me,” You spat at him.

“Fine be like that, fucking brat.” 

Searing hot pain was all you felt. You screamed at the top of your lungs as you collapsed onto the cement floor in front the villain. Bakugou could only watch in horror at your shrill howls. You desperately clawed at the collar around your throat as it felt as if liquid fire was shot into your veins. 

“What are you doing? Fucking stop it, you’re hurting her!” Bakugou practically begs as your body withered in agony. 

Midoriya only shrugged, “I believe that dwindling down the pain is the best way to train."

You gasped for breath, struggling to get even an ounce of oxygen. 

“She’s not a damn dog!” Bakugou felt so helpless as he watched you struggled to inhale and he growled when your face starts to turn vermillion. “She can’t fucking breathe, you bastard!”

Cold washed over your body. Falling onto your side, you sucked in as much air as you can try to ignore the urge to vomit. 

With such a disgusting poise, Midoriya beny down and sat you up. He forced you to lean against his chest just as you did with Bakugou. “Poor baby, you tried so hard to save you and Bakugou. You even attempted to use your quirk. Isn’t it scary? You still sleep with the lights on, don’t you?” He cradled you and his tone was just so condescending but you couldn’t do anything about it.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bakugou questioned.

“Oh, he doesn’t know,” Midoriya teased, keeping his eyes on you. He felt twisted arousal at those tear stained cheek and how you lips shimmered with spit. “The poor, little baby is terrified of the dark. Absolutely terrified!”

"What?"

"Pretty juvenile, isn't it?” He mocked, then turned his attention to the hero a couple feet from him. “To be honest, she didn't plan ever using her quirk again after that incident when she first got her quirk. You remember it, right? She was missing for hours, poor thing was stuck in the shadows all alone. But, after seeing you captured by that slimy fuck and my 'disappearance' poor thing blamed herself for not being strong enough. That day on she promised to become stronger to find me and make sure her dear friends will never be harmed again. Isn't that just sweet. The perfect hero story."

Multiple emotions flashed on Bakugou’s face; confusion, worry, anger and guilt. "Why— why would you become a hero for such a stupid reason, huh?! I can protect myself!" His words were sharp as he glared you down, hating how dazed you look. Despite his declarement, guilt tugged at his heart. He couldn’t help but think if he was just a little stronger and didn’t fuel your need to be a hero, than either of you would be in this situation. 

Softly, the villain started to wipe away the drool that pooled in the corner of your mouth and the tears that had yet to dry from your face. You furrowed your brow and tried to focus on Bakugou and answer his question that sounded more like a plea. 

"I just wanted to be strong, too. You and Izu-chan always protected me so I wanted to return the favor." The words were slurred but it still stirred something in both of the men. 

"And just how sweet," Deku seethed, now gripping your cheeks so hard your lips became puckered. He pulldc your face close to his before he clicked his tongue and pushed your face away, letting your body dropped as he stood. 

“Fuck,” you hissed. Your reactions were slow so your head hit the concrete with an audible thud.

Bakugou attempted to go to you to check you were okay, but Midoriya held up the remote.

“Ah, ah, ah,” He tutted at the hero with a wagging finger, “If you haven’t noticed, I get to say what goes and I don’t think I said you could go near her.”

Bakugou only growled like a feral dog but doesn’t move in fear of seeing you in such misery again. “You’re a bastard I hope you know that.”

“And what does that make you, Kaccan,” Midoriya’s tone was cold, so cold that the temperature dropped. 

You stared down the remote, formulating a plan. If you could only grab the damn remote then he won’t hold so much power you both and you can move freely. Seeing that he was distracted by Bakugou, you pushed yourself up to stand. Not caring how your bones screamed to rest, you slinked up and reeled your fist up to punch him with all your might. A whoosh came from how fast your went to strike. Your breath caught in your throat as Midoriya seize your fist without even looking at you.

“You stupid, stupid girl,” He sung without any emotion. He snatched your jaw and shook your head, amusement in his eyes as you tried to kick and squirm. Without any effort, he threw you away and you fell to a heap onto the floor. “Stupid, stupid girl,” He repeated and then he pressed onto the remote. 

A loud grunt cracked and echoed into the basement. You watched in horror as Bakugou crampled to the cement, trying his damndest to get the collar off. A shiver ran down your back, knowing exactly how he must feel.

“He didn’t didn't do anything!" You screeched.

"Right now he didn't," Midoriya shrugged, watching how the mighty fall with a smile. 

Bakugou let out a shout he tried to hold back, not wanting to give Midoriya the satisfaction or to worry you. It was too late for that though as you crawled over to the villain. You clutched onto his pants, begging, “Please just let him go. Just make it stop please.” New tears started to form watching the most important person to you crumpled over in pain on his knees. 

A gagging noise rings in your ears as his face is now red like a rose. 

“Please!” You screeched, now hugging Midoriya’s legs and gazing up at him with watery eyes. Snot and tears ran down your visage as you repeated please over and over again. “I’ll do anything, just please let him go, he can’t breathe!” You babbled pleases as if it was the only words you know. 

Midoriya’s eyes lit up a maniac green seeing you gravel at his feet. God, you were so fucking pathetic. His cock twitched as you begged you were made to. 

"Anything?" He drawled out, not caring how Bakugou choked. It was only background noise to him.

"Yes, anything! Just please stop all of this, I'll do anything you say." There was clear desperation in your voice.

Midoriya let out a hum before answering and turning off the collar, "Call me Izu-chan again like you used when we were kids."

You tilt your head at the simple command. It was easy enough, you were about to reply then Bakugou gasps out, "Don’t do anything that sick bastard tells you to!"

Pure ire flashes on Midoriya’s face. He snarled as he looked at Bakugou’s quivering form trying to suck up oxygen and was about to press the button again until he hears your heavenly voice.

"I-Izu-chan, Izu-chan please don't!" You pulled yourself closer, so close that your breasts squished against his shins. You kept gaze up at Midoriya, trying to look innocent as possible to please him. Honestly, it was working because as you looked up at him with those teary eyes, he can’t help but notice how beautiful you look at his feet. Worshipping him as if he is a god. Midoriya reached down and cradled your cheek within his gloved palm. You closed your eyes and snuggled further into its warmth, trying to seem inconspicuous as you hear Bakugou start to stand. Pouting, you laid it on thick praying he kept his attention on you. "Don't hurt him! He-he's just being brash like usual. Please he doesn't know any better."

“You’re right,” Midoriya stared at you with adoration, but it fell when he locked gazes with the hero inches away from punching him in the face, “He doesn’t know any better.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened as he froze at how he was able to catch on so fast. He was about to send an explosion towards the villain when Midoriya kicks you further away from Bakugou and pressed the damn remote again. 

You could only whimper out a little, “Katsu,” that breaks his heart. He went toward you again but he felt that pain once again. He fell to the floor not too far from you. Body exhausted, he just collapsed to heap on the floor. The shocks were gone as fast as they came, but before he could even attempt to crawl to you, Midoriya straddles his back. He tries to buck him off but his arms were grabbed and harshly forced behind his back. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” Bakugou tried to say but the hand not holding his arms, pushed his head into the ground. He grunted when the side of his face hit the concrete, leaving him immobile. Midoriya adjusted himself so that he was now stranding the back of Bakugou’s thigh, spreading the hero’s leg. 

He giggledvwhile cruelly shoving his knee into Bakugou’s crotch, "Now if you are both done interrupting me, we can finally get this show on the road." 

A huff left Bakugou at the stimulation that grinded against his groin.

“What are doing you bastard!” Bakugou barked, slight desperation in his voice as his cock started to spring to life. Midoriya only ignored him as he pressed hard, reveling in the tiny groan that left Bakugou’s chest. “I said, what are you doing?” Bakugou squirmed more, but nothing happens.

Midoriya pressed his front into Bakugou’s back and whispered in his ear, “How does it feel to be the one pushed down. Not so fun is it?” 

“What is this? Some sort of fucking revenge fantasy, sicko?” Bakugou groaned, hating how his body was betraying him.

Humming, Midoriya kept his knee grinding into the hero. Bakugou tried to scramble away, not wanting you to see him so weak, but Midoriya got a lot stronger with age. An uncanny amount.

Against the small of his back, Bakugou felt how hard Midoriya was. The need to vomit built up in his throat. Shuffling himself, the villain put himself between his childhood friend’s hips. Through the thin material of his sweatpants, Midoriya’s length rubbed against the line of his ass.

Leaning down so his lips brushed against the hero’s ear, Midoriya’s breath stuttered. He had been waiting for this moment for so long. His tip leaked in the confides of his slacks, begging to sink into Bakugou or your heat. The way Bakugou struggled against him only added more stimulation.

Not wanting to get too ahead of himself, Midoriya opened to see you crawling to the shadows on the wall. Sighing into Bakugou’s ear, the man under him shuddered. Still grinding his cock into Bakugou’s withering hips, he pressed the remote to see go slack against the floor. Your whimper had Bakugou turn his focus to your writhing form.

“S-stop,” His words had a double meaning.

Giving one last harsh thrust that if there weren’t clothes between the two men, his cock would have surely breached the hero’s hole, Midoriya got up. He clicked off the eletricity and followed how drool foamed out your mouth.

“Get on the bed. Sit at the head and wait, if you don’t,” He waved the remote in front of Bakugou’s flustered face, “You know what will happen.” Midoriya pointed with his chin at your form.

As Midoriya pulled his weight and grip from Bakugou, he went to the bed as instructed. Heaven knew he wanted to knock the motherfucker out, but your life was on the line. Settling into the metal bars of the headboard, he watched Midoriya go to your pliant form.

Or so he thought.

When Midoriya bent down to grab you, you snapped your foot up and kicked him right in the nose.

“Shit!” He cradled his nose, tears flooding his sight.

Sprinting to Bakugou, you reached for him and prepared to barrel into the darkness. Falling onto the bed, Midoriya quickly recovered and pinned you underneath him. You screamed and clawed at the bedsheets. Kicking and squirmed, you did anything you could to get him off you.

Midoriya grabbed your head and smothered your face into the cushions.

“Don’t,” He bit. Not at you, but at Bakugou who got ready to fight. “I’ll fucking snap her neck and make you fuck her cooling corpse.”

Grinding his teeth, Bakugou could only watch as Midoriya maneuvered your thrashing form. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he placed your body across thighs so you were butt was perked up on his lap.

“Damn, I thought Bakugou would be the brat, not you.”

“Fuck you!” You screeched.

You were so sick of being antagonized by him. Adrenaline in your system had you acting out of character. Wrenching your arms behind your back, Midoriya ripped off your shorts and your panties. Terrified, you fought more, not liking where this was going. Before you could move more, a thundering slap burned in your bare bum. Screaming, you whipped your head to Midoriya.

Tears pierced your waterline. He- he just spanked you like you were a child.

His face stone-cold, he didn’t offer any comfort. Bringing his hand down again, your feet kicked pathetically at the sting. He hit the same place again. Sobbing, your head fell into the bed. The fight in you left as quick as it came.

Seeing you were more calm, Midoriya rubbed his large, calloused hand over your burning bum. “You done?”

Whimpering, you nodded your head.

Despite your form sagging, he doesn’t lift you up. If anything, his hand wandered until his fingers brushed against your slit. Gasping, your head sprung up to try and make eye contact with him. He ignored you to spread your legs and get more of a view of your cunt.

“S-stop it,” You begged.

Midoriya dipped into your hole to gather some of the wetness that unwillingly spilled from you.

“Why stop when your pussy is so wet for me?”

Swirling your clit, your legs twitched from the stimulation. Going back to your hole, he breached you with two fingers. You winced from the intrusion. Thrashing, you didn’t want someone to touching you there, especially for the first time.

Midoriya caught attention to your flinch, “Oh, are you a virgin?”

A shit-eating grin spread across his face when you sob, not stopping shoving his thick fingers further into you. Looking over at Bakugou, he isn’t ignorant to how the hero’s nostrils flared. “Aww poor Kacchan, you wanted to get to her first, didn’t you?”

“Die,” Bakugou snarled, but his eyes didn’t leave the fingers splitting you open.

Midoriya huffed a laugh, and leaned down to you, “I bet he would have made it real special. Too bad all he’s gonna get is my sloppy seconds.”

Ripping his fingers from you, you gasped at suddenly being empty. Licking your escense from his appendages, Midoriya forced you up. Roughtly, he ripped off your shirt so you were completely bare. Without care, he threw you down between Bakugou’s legs, a pillow below you. Getting behind you, he propped your hips up so you were face down and ass up.

Not giving two shits what Midoriya says, Bakugou gripped onto one of your hands as a small form of comfort. You clutched onto him, fear turning your tummy in tiny twists.

Midoriya unzipped his pants and brought them down to pull his cock from the tight cloth. Sighing in relief, Midoriya stoked himself with a few weak pumps. One his knees, he dragged himself closer to inspect both of your holes on display for him. With thumb, he ran it down from your ring of muscles over your hole and to your clit. Brushing it, he went back to your hole, he hooked his thumb inside and pried you apart.

A shuttering moan left at being exposed for his greedy eyes. Not caring you weren’t prepped enough, Midoriya brought his cockhead to your pussy.

“W-wait!” You begged, but he only bullied his way inside.

Only the tip was inside and you were being ripped apart. Bakugou gasped your hand tighter. More and more of your ex-childhood friend shoved himself inside. At halfway, he pulled out until it was just the head, and then slammed all the way to the hilt.

Screaming into the pillow, you cried as he tore his way into you. His balls slapped against your clit as he started a brutal pace. Your nipples chaffed against the rough texture of the bedding.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Midoriya moaned.

He didn’t hold back his noises. Fucking into you, he groaned and whimpered, loving to finally be inside you. He had waited for years to feel how warm you were. When he was still a hormonal teen, he would spend hours yanking his cock to the thought of tearing you open. Who was he kidding? Even well into his adults years, he still fucked himself to you.

And him getting to you before Bakugou was the cherry on top.

A petty, insecure him wanted to shout, ‘I win!’ right at the man in front him. But staring at him, as he silently seethed at watching you get fucked by the man he hated, was much sweeter.

Crowding you, Midoriya leaned down to groan in your ear, “Look at you. Your sloppy cunt molding just for my cock. You were made for me.”

His head leaned down further to suck the length of your neck. Kissing the nape, he harshly bit into it and you screamed at the piercing ache. Tilting his hips, he hit the spongy part in you, a moan finally leaving you. He kept abusing it as his hand went down to your clit. Instinctively, you spread yourself further for him. His cock stretching you past your limits had your brain fog up in pleasure. Mouth gape, you whimpered into the pillow.

Working you over, Midoriya didn’t stop his pace or how he twiddled your clit. Too fast for your liking, a tightness tugged in your lower stomach.

“N-no.”

Midoriya caught on to how you scrambled away from the pleasure, “Oh, are you- fuck- are you gonna cum?”

In denial, you shook your head.

Laughing at you, Midoriya didn’t stop, just kept going as he was. Pinching your clit, your legs spasmed. You bit your lip to hold off the orgasm, but it was too late.

With a pound into your g-spot, you moaned as you came all over the villain’s dick. Groaning, Midoriya’s hips stuttered, but he was far from completing with you. Licking your neck, he bit into your flesh.

The pleasure quickly turned into pain as he didn’t stop. “Stop, it h-hurts!”

“Good.”

Ramping up his thrusts, you screeched into the pillow. Clutching onto it with your free hand, Bakugou stroked your hair to help you work through the agony. Tilting your head up, you looked up at the hero with bleary eyes. Drooling dripped down from your lips for a different reason.

From your fucked out expression, Bakugou almost came just from that. He knew it was wrong, but his cock has never been harder. You looked so beautiful ruined. If only it was him splitting you apart until you were crying.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for the next orgasm that threatened to rip through you. Midoriya’s thrust turned sloppy, he finally let up on your clit to focus on his own end. Gripping your hips, he forced them back to fuck you further on him.

You screeched and clenched around him when he bumped your cervix. At that, Midoriya stilled his hips. Cum shot out from him and deep in your cunt. He didn’t move until all of his cum spilled inside you. Your body hummed and twitched.

Sagging down, you were exhausted. Midoriya pulled out from you and you whimpered at being empty after being fucked open. Though, he didn’t leave you alone. His hand cupped your cunt, not letting any cum dribble out.

“Your turn,” Midoriya addressed Bakugou.

“What?” The hero asked stupidly.

“I did say you would get my sloppy seconds, didn’t I?” He tilted his head, mocking him. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Steeling his resolve, he agreed, “Fine.”

Like a puppet on strings, Midoriya pushed you onto Bakugou’s lap. Hand still cupped over you cunt, Bakugou tugged down his sweatpants and boxers. Sighing as his cock slapped against his clothed stomach, he grabbed your thigh to bring you closer.

With Midoriya’s help, you were positioned over his cock. Pressing against your back, you noticed he didn’t put his own away. Ignoring it, you locked gazes with Bakugou. He returned it.

Taking the reigns, Bakugou tugged you from Midoriya’s grip and he let him. Pulling his hand from your cunny, Bakugou replaced it with the blunt head of his cock. Cum spilled down to your thighs. Using it as lube and still stretched open, Bakugou slipped inside you with little resistance. He was a little bit bigger than Midoriya and thicker. Despite that, you didn’t wince as you sank down to the hilt.

Grasping you, Bakugou cradled your face. With little patience, he began thrusting inside you. Moaning, you didn’t stray away from his ruby eyes. Here, in this moment, you could pretend it’s just you two. Maybe the tension between you finally bubbled over and he took your virginity like you secretly wanted. And maybe, just maybe, Bakugou could take it like he longed for as much you did.

Matching his momentum, Bakugou brought his thumb over you parted lips. Dragging it across your bottom lip, he slipped his thumb inside. Moaning, you licked at the oddly sweet skin.

Midoriya cut into the moment, “Don’t you dare cum until I say so.”

Glancing at him, you see him sitting at the end of the bed, working himself back up slowly. His hand twisting over his length a lot slower than Bakugou’s thrusts.

Hooking his thumb on your bottom teeth, he brought your attention back to him. Eyes not straying from his, he let his hand slither down to hold your throat. The grip gentle. You sunk into his hold, it so much softer than you ever expected.

His other hand went to your neglected clit, circling it. Moaning for him. your thighs shook. Hands on his plush chest, you traveled down to grip his wrist. If he kept going, you would cum and you didn’t want to know what Midoriya would do.

Bakugou took at as encouragement and pressed further.

“I- I can’t!” You hiccupped.

Taking mercy on you, Midoriya said with a wavering voice, “Cum. Now.”

Not wasting a moment, Bakugou pushed you down onto the bed. Hand still on your throat, he hovered over you. In the tangle, his cock fell out, but he quickly fucked it back in you. Like a man starved, he slammed his dick in and out of you.

Groaning, you tilted your hips to encasing him inside you more. With his knees, he spread you further and went back to your bundle of nerves.

“You’re so pretty,” Bakugou leaned down, and bit right where Midoriya did before. He tried his best to cover all of that bastard with himself.

His sweet words had your vision swarm. Kicking your feet and curling your toes, his next bite did you in. Cumming with a loud moan right in his ear, Bakugou quickly followed. His cum mixed with Midoriya’s.

Flopping on top of you, he kissed where he bit you as an apology. Deep in you, his cock softened and fell out. Whimpering, you welcomed being empty once more. Your hips were battered and bruised.

“How cute,” Midoriya mocked.

From under Bakugou, you stared at the man who towered the both of you, still stroking his own cock. “I’m far from done with you two.”

Twisting his head to the villain, Bakugou sneered, “Fuck off. We did what you wanted.” He refused to move, covering your form with his to protect you.

The shorter male’s face dropped. “If both don’t get to work sucking my cock, I’ll shock you until you’re fucking stupid and nothing more than little fuck dolls.” Hand tight around the remote, you didn’t take his threat lightly.

Crawling out from under the hero, you went down on your knees on the cold concrete floors. The bones already ached. Glaring at Midoriya, Bakugou didn’t break eye contact as he got on his knees right next to you. It was comically how his form swallowed yours.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Midoriya had you two between his knees. Raising his brow in impatience, you leaned over to lick his cockhead. Bakugou copied you to focus on his balls. Sucking one of them in his mouth, Midoriya bucked up forcing you to take more of his length.

“S-so good,” With both hands, he gripped you and Bakugou’s hair.

Pulling off his cock, you kissed furthered down until you met with Bakugou’s mouth. Departing from Midoriya’s sack, Bakugou licked up until your mouths connected. Over his dick, you both made out, tongues brushing against each other.

Your moan vibrated against Midoriya causing him to shutter.

“For a virgin, you are a natural.”

Clenching your eyes closed, you tuned out his voice and went down to his balls. Taking your place, he went to Midoriya’s cock and took it all in one go. Leaning over you, your lids went half mast, watching Bakugou swallow the villain causing him to give a girlish moan.

Moving to his other ball, you gave it attention, sucking it your mouth. Your tongue swirled around it. Bakugou moved up and down his cock with expertise, smirking when Midoriya whimpered again.

“F-fuck!” He groaned and pulled you both off him.

Ripping his hand from the one in Bakugou’s hair, he stroked his cock and aimed it at you. With two pumps, he came all over your face. You flinched back as it almost hit your right eye.

Releasing you, he leaned forward as shame washed over you. Cum still spilled from your cunt. Being the only one covered in cum and naked, you felt dirty. This time, tears did pour over as you refused to make eye contact with the man above you.

Sensing your shame and pissed at being degraded, Bakugou glared at Midoriya. Hatred seeped from his pores.

Midoriya merely smirked. Tapping your collar, you were forced to look at him.

“It’s going to be so much fun completely breaking you two.”

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 13 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: took me so so long, but I think the wait was worth it. 😭 let me know what you think, love u!😉

W/C: 4.072

part twelve

"Okay, is there anything left for me to do?"

I raise my head, looking up at my dad from my phone. The stack of papers on the dining table immediately giving me a headache.

"Are you asking me, dad? Or are you talking to yourself?" I ask, getting up from my position on the couch to see what his mid-life crisis is about.

"Myself.." He replies, bringing the ugly ceramic mug I’d decorated at the age of five up to his mouth.

The blue cursed-looking unicorn, with the biggest red eyes staring back at me, makes me clear my throat.

I mean, even I would have thrown that thing away after my child forgot about it.

"What are you doing?" I ask, leaning forward to flip through the stacks of paper.

Poor trees...

"Stop messing with them, y/n. They are important documents for work.."

I hum in understanding, holding my hands up in surrender.

"You're really killing off nature with these.." I add, scratching my itchy nose.

"Will you please go and do something useful, sweetheart?"

I sigh, instead of walking away, I sit down next to him. Turning to him with a smile on my face.

"Give me something useful I can do.." I ask, giving him a sickly sweet smile.

I hear him chuckle, his hand coming to rub my shoulder, before he points to the stack of papers on his left.

"The other documents I’d rather not have you go through.."

He reaches for the papers, placing them in front of me.

"Can you sort these in chronological order? It's images of camera footage, date and time are on the top right."

"Sure, dad.." I agree, flipping through the black-and-white printed images. Curiosity raised at what I'm seeing.

An individual, with more of a masculine frame standing outside of a huge, luxurious house.

Dressed in- from what I can make out to be, a black t-shirt, along with the ugliest pair of jorts I have ever seen.

"Where is this from? New case?"

"Bellingham's case." He replies curtly, writing something down on his notepad.

It was astonishing how anyone could read his handwriting.

Were lawyers second in 'the most unreadable handwriting' competition, next to doctors?

I raise my brows at his answer, interest peaked suddenly. I look around the house, as if Jude would pop up like some ‘Bloody Mary’ game if called out for three times- but I remember he is out tonight, enjoying his break from training at fuck-knows-where.

"Footage from the break-in?"

"Yes, honey- any more questions?" He glances at me for a moment, raising a single brow in question.

"No, not really..." I say, eyes flying to the date and time.

I only recognize the date as the first match we played in the Champions League this season, back in September at Bernabéu.

The dates do match up, and when I continue flipping through the images. Seeing more and more images of different dates, with more damage done to the home, makes me gasp.

How did Jude and his mom even live here for many more months after the first incident?

I feel goosebumps rise up on my skin at the thought of feeling unsafe in my own home. Had I known how terrifying the things that happened to Jude were, I wouldn’t have been such an asshole when he first arrived.

My stupid mouth and I...

I shake my head as if to remove my thoughts, taking a deep breath before quickly sorting and stacking the images correctly.

If I had known sooner, maybe I could have been more civil towards my unwanted roommate..

"Girl, turn the lights on. I literally cannot see a single thing." Amira complains, smacking her bubblegum in the loudest way possible.

"I hate winter. Seriously, why does it get dark so early?.." I complain, hurrying over to switch the light on in my bedroom.

"Stop complaining and do a twirl for me.." She says, placing her phone against something stable, so she can see me properly.

"Oh, sure your majesty.." I mock, chuckling at her, before doing a 360.

"You look so damn good. I swear, if you don't take a man home-"

"It's a party- or event , full of my colleagues. I can't be a hoe tomorrow night.."

"If you wanted, you would.." I watch her smirk, before she runs a hand down her dark locs.

"We can do that when you're visiting next time.."

"Can't- I have a man." I hear her chuckle, and definitely don't miss the sound of another, deeper laugh in the background.

"Oh, great thanks for reminding me. Hey Trent, stop listening in on us.." I say sternly, leaning in towards the screen.

"He's not listening in. He is on the phone with Jude.."

Oh, fuck, great.

I turn towards my door, praying Jude or Trent wouldn't be too loud on the phone.

At this point, I was surprised that the jig wasn't up yet.

Amira already knew about it, of course. I just hoped Trent didn't.

I mean, it would be foolish to think that Jude and I could keep our secret to ourselves. But for once, I trusted he would keep his mouth shut about us living together.

Everyone knows that men gossip more than women. They could know the most intricate details of the juiciest drama you'll ever come across, and never utter a single word about it until you ask about it directly.

"Trent's gone, now speak. Why do you look like you're sweating buckets?"

"I feel sick, like- my stomach hurts.." I begin, struggling to take my dress off.

"Maybe you got your period?" She suggests, using the screen to watch herself dot the pinkest liquid blush on her cheekbones.

"No, my Clue app says I'm getting my period in six days.." I reply, hanging my dress back into the closet. Then, I grab my pajama set, pulling the comfy clothes on quickly.

"You're probably nervous about tomorrow.." She mumbles, fidgeting with the lamp next to her, before blending the blush seamlessly into her foundation.

"What could I possibly be nervous about? I've been going for like two years, since I became eighteen.." I flop onto my bed, cuddling my soft pillow against my body.

My thoughts wander for a moment, something close to déjà vu washing over me.

"It's the butterflies.."

I snap my head back towards my phone, pulling a confused face.

"For?.."

"For Jude- You have butterflies in your stomach for Jude!" She screams unnecessarily loudly, making me drop my phone onto my bed.

I gasp, retrieving my phone from the mattress, looking back at her with wide eyes.

"Are you crazy?! Dude, he's literally across the hallway!" I exclaim, burying my head into my pillows.

"He probably heard you!" I cry out, giving her a middle finger.

"Exactly my intentions! I swear, everybody in the fucking world knows he wants you at this point. I've never seen two people in this much denial before."

"I literally don't know what to do with myself, thanks for emphasizing that.."

"How long is it going to take for you to be honest with yourself? Another six months, yeah? You like him, come on. You like him.."

"I haven't liked anyone since high school.."

"Let's not bring high school love into this. You were sixteen, should’ve been worried about GCSE's instead..."

"Okay, let me do a little magazine quiz for you.." I watch her spray her fixing spray onto her face.

She dries her face with a small fan, before leaning in and looking at me with a serious expression.

"Go ahead.." I groan, sitting up properly.

"What do you think of when you see him?"

"I don't know? 'There he is again'?" I answer stupidly, looking at her. I watch her cover her mouth, probably disappointed with my reply.

"Okay- let's try this. Imagine, tomorrow, you see him in a suit, tie all of that-  dresssed up nicely, with his hair freshly cut. He smells like the sexiest cologne you have ever smelled. No 'Doir, Sauvage' shit- think 'Tom Ford, Oud Wood'.."

The rest of whatever the fuck she says doesn't register in my brain, but the heat slowly pooling into my body, down my stomach and thighs, tells me enough.

It tells me too much.

I’m fucked, done for.

A lost cause.

I need an exorcism..

"I'm ready!" I shout, taking one quick look in the mirror, before grabbing my handbag off my bed.

I stuff a powderpuff, some lip products, and my phone into my bag and rush down the stairs.

"Come on, honey. It's one thing to be late- another thing for me to be late to the event I'm co-hosting.." My dad says, already standing at the front door, navy blue suit making him look handsome.

"Ready! What do you think?" I ask him, pointing to my dress and heels.

"You look very beautiful. I did not think you'd wear such a daring colour.."

I know what he wants to say. ‘You look just like your mother’, but ignore those thoughts.

I shrug at him, glancing in the mirror again. The scarlet-red dress clinging to my skin is just the right amount of sexy and chic.

Of course, I had to go for a mini dress, ignoring my dad's wishes, because I could and I'm an adult.

I adjust my silver necklace, watching it glisten in the overhead light.

"Come on, y/n. Enough admiring.."

I nod, quickly walking behind him into the car.

I buckle my seatbelt, the mix of my dad's cologne and my perfume overwhelming me for a second.

"Wait? Where's Jude? Is he not attending?" I look at my dad, watching him pull out of the driveway.

"He will attend, but he said he would arrive with his teammates. He didn’t want to inconvenience us."

Inconvenience?

What did he mean with that?

I mean, we had not spoken properly for days- but inconvenience?

Am I overthinking things?

"Come and grab a drink with me.." Lina says, grabbing my wirst to pull me towards the cocktail- or in this case, mocktail bar.

Due to the discouragement of the players drinking alcohol, mid-season- it was the upmost important for this party to only offer non-alcoholic drinks.

And considering what had happened last time I was drunk- I wasn't complaining, at all..

The party had started two hours ago, though a little formal. We made the most out of it, while dancing along with the beautiful live music. The clock would strike twelve in a little, indicating the beginning of a new year.

Something about New Year’s Eve made me incredibly emotional at times. Maybe, it was the realization of life going faster than I thought- or maybe, it was some resentment I held against the negative things that happened in the year.

Even so, I tried to make the most of this party every year. Dancing wholeheartedly, tasting the food the chefs had worked so hard on, drinking the delicious drinks made by the bartenders.

"I'm going to get a Negroni- How about you?" Lina asks, wrapping her arm around mine as we walk towards the bar.

"I don't know- maybe I’ll just ask for a recommendation.." I speak, looking over at her. Her black dress hugging her figure as our high heels click against the floor.

"Oh, look who's here too.." She says, motioning ahead with her eyes and chin.

I follow her gaze, furrowing my brows in confusion. My eyes land on a couple of the football team players, all looking happy as they order their drinks one by one.

"Oh.." I mouth, lips pulling back into a straight line as I spot Jude next to them.

And of course, just like my dear best friend had described last night. He is dressed in a sleek, black suit matched with a crispy white shirt.

I watch him interact with his teammates, unconsciously staring at him as we near the bar.

His pearly white teeth show as the corners of his eyes crinkle, probably laughing at something funny one of the guys said.

I almost gasp out loud when he turns around, my eyes moving down to see the deep red handkerchief, placed neatly in the pocket of his suit.

Why in heaven's name- did we match?

I lean against the bar by instinct, drawing my attention back to the bartender who's standing in front of me. Eyes darting to the menu, of course- to only see non-alcoholic options.

Maybe, I did need a different type of drink.

'I'll have a Negroni, please.." I hear Lina say, and look at her for a moment before turning back to the bartender. Trying to ignore the fact that I can feel a pair of eyes burning holes into the back of my head. 

What was that called again?

Scopaesthesia?

Whatever it's called, there should be a name for someone's warmth too- because Jude probably could feel the heat radiating off my body at this point, even if he isn’t standing that close to me..

"And what would this beauty like?”

I stand up straight at the words, looking at the smiling bartender.

I give him a soft, appreciative smile back, enjoying his non-creepy way of delivering a compliment, and quickly ask for a recommendation.

As y/n speaks to the bartender, he laughs back, leaning in to whisper something into her ear. It earns a chuckle from her, making her lean against the bar again.

Unaware of his own body language, Jude tightens his grip on his glass. His jaw twitches, and he turns away from the scene, scoffing to himself before taking a gulp of his drink.

His body tensing up does not go unnoticed by his friends slash teammates. He gets a pat on the shoulder from Dani, making him relax for a moment.

"Loosen up, brother. Have some fun.." Eduardo speaks, giving him his signature smile while clinking his full glass with Jude's.

Jude nods, walking closer towards the crowd of his teammates, trying his absolute best to remove his brown eyes from the girl.

The girl his brain has not stopped thinking about, ever since that drunken night..

From the way she looked, spoke, dressed- he was infatuated with her.

And tonight?

The sexy red dress, hugging her body- showing skin-

He is fucked, absolutely fucked, especially when he realizes how clammy his hands are.

The normally confident and playful Jude vanishes for a moment. He's acting like a lovesick teenage boy, too nervous to ask his crush out for prom.

The hour passes painfully slow, with the both of them sneaking glances at each other every other minute. Their friends notice, of course, smirks on their faces as they realize how clueless they are.

Young love shouldn't be this complicated, they think, wanting to push them towards each other already. Tired of the back and forth they were a part of these past months. The patience they had was running low, even though it wasn't anything harming or hurting them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!" A sharp, ear-piercing sound echos from the microphone, booming out of the speakers.

The speaker is none other than a Real Madrid executive, standing next to the chic, wealthy woman, is y/n’s father.

The entire venue’s attention turns to the two individuals, conversations and laughter cut off immediately.

"Just like every year since our successful partnership with Mr. l/n. We thank you for being here at our annual New Year's event!"

The room answers with happy and loud cheers, some clapping along in agreement. An interesting mix of almost all the athletes signed to Real Madrid, their hardworking staff, and not to forget, esteemed lawyers from the law firm.

"We will enter the new year in ten minutes! Please enjoy the rest of your night!"

As if on cue, the room goes back to their own conversation. And the restless, nervous wreck y/n immediately turns around to visit the bar again, asking the bartender for another one of the drinks he'd made for her earlier.

She didn't even remember what it was called. All she tasted and saw were strawberries- which meant that the bright pink, iced drink was good enough.

She grabs the drink off the counter, thanking the bartender, before turning around to return to her friends.

She looks down to watch her step, high heels starting to hurt her feet, as she tries to walk without tripping, making her forget to watch where she’s going.

Before the girl is aware of it, her body collides with a harder one. Glass in her han, tipping over, the pink drink splashing all over a white, crispy shirt.

y/n gasps, eyes widening in horror. Looking up from the disaster, she makes eye contact with a shell-shocked Jude. His own, brown eyes widening impossibly wider than hers.

Covering her mouth, she places the glass on a small, round bar table next to her, turning to him wordlessly.

"Oh- I, umh.." She stutters, sweat practically visible on her temples at this point.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She thinks, multiple thoughts running through her head like Usain-fucking-Bolt..

With only one brain-cell working in between them, and their hearts beating like crazy. She grabs his hand, pulling him off the dance floor- into a small closet, behind the stage. Away from the peering eyes and cameras at the event.

She turns away from him, closing the door, before locking it. Ensuring no one would walk into this disaster of a sight.

"Take it off.." She begins, speaking without thought. Reaching for a roll of paper towels, ripping off a stack of them before starting to dab away the moisture from his now pink-stained-shirt.

Her eyes dart up, lips parting slightly as Jude shrugs off his jacket, throwing it to the side.

The dim light flickers in the small, suffocating room. She halts the hurried dabbing, making eye contact with an equally entranced Jude.

"Sorry.." y/n whispers, breath hitting his plump lips. Her hand moves up again, rolling some more of the paper towel around her hand, before wiping off the excess moisture again.

Jude's body stiffens, particularly his abdomen. He takes a sharp breath, looking down at the flustered girl.

For some reason, a sudden switch flips inside of him. He sighs, eyes roaming up and down her form, a warm, but burning feeling settling in his stomach.

He decides to move for a moment, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. It causes y/n to freeze up this time, her body going rigid as she watches him expose his arms.

Even in the dim light, his muscles protrude, along with the bulging veins running down his forearms.

"Fucking hell.." He says in a low voice, unbuttoning the top buttons of his ruined shirt, making the girl’s eyes widen again.

"What- What are you doing?" She asks, heart almost exploding due to the pace it’s beating at.

"I'm burning up in this room.." He replies, making direct eye contact with her, as he fidgets with the white buttons.

Revealing more, and more skin..

It's like he's dropped the nervousness within seconds. Looking into her eyes while fixing the collar of his shirt.

Even though it takes him approximately ten seconds, to the girl in front of him- the moment is dragged out horribly long and in slow motion.

Her breath hitches at the delicious sight, and she gulps while looking up at him.

Deeply entranced in the tension filled- sensual moment, she drops the wet, used paper towels mindlessly onto the floor.

The lights flicker once again, making her eyes squint as she takes him in.

No doubt, the image will be burned into her infatuated mind from now on. Gnawing at her sanity and logical thinking.

Of course, he smells good. So damn good, the perfect mix of musk and powdery cologne.

Not only is the sight delicious, but the smell is too.

The loud music outside of the small enclosed space continues, the crowd singing along to the chorus of a well-known song.

She looks down for a second, trying to collect her thoughts before she says something completely unhinged.

"Jude.." She whispers, heart beating erratically in his chest. y/n can feel her hands shake, her legs trembling in her high heels.

Their breaths mingle as they look into each other's eyes. A silence settling in between them after she says his name.

Jude's veins practically burst at the sound of his name leaving her lips. His eyes dart to the perfectly glossed lips that say his name so sweetly, so softly..

His mind goes dizzy at the sound. Wanting to hear it over, and over again. Loving the sound most ardently..

A soft groan leaves his mouth, and he traces her beautiful features with his eyes, until he makes eye contact with her, again.

"We should leave this place. The countdown is about to begin.." She whispers the only words she can think of saying, breath shaky and faint.

Jude does not answer with words, but his eyes do dart towards the door. Ears perking up as he hears the familiar countdown begin.

"Twenty!" The crowd exclaims, happiness and excitement buzzing throughout the venue- except in the small room they are in.

"Jude!" She says again, voice a little more stable than before. She raises her left hand, pulling on the hem of his now- untucked shirt.

He snaps his head back at her, watching the soft skin in between her brows pinch together in frustration.

"y/n.." He whispers back, head leaning closer against hers. Making her grip on his shirt grow tighter. Skin on her knuckles tightening from the strength she's using.

"What?" She asks, voice fiery sharp, and impatient. Emotions making her eyes glisten, along with the jewelry adorning her neck and ears in the light.

Though, the tension is high and suffocating- Jude grins suddenly, plump lips stretching as he leans in closer. His own eyes, now with a hint of playfulness in them, roaming around her face.

"Ten!" They hear the crowd exclaim, continuing to cheer and laugh together.

"What?" She says again, lifting her chin up to look him in the eyes. Her breath hitches at the playful expression on his face, like he's an imminent danger to her heart and lungs.

"You're the most annoying fucking person I have ever met.." He speaks, with no real malice in his tone. A chuckle leaves his mouth, soft breaths hitting her lips.

y/n's heart stutters at his words, and the change of emotion in her eyes makes him go absolutely crazy.

"Fuck, and I love that. I love you, y/n.." He breathes, his hand cupping her jaw.

He watches her face intently, watching her blink multiple times, before her hand travels from the hem of his shirt to his unbuttoned collar.

She wraps her hand around the fabric, pulling him closer with a small jank. Wetting her lips with her tongue, she speaks again.

"Then fucking kiss me, you annoying douche bag.."

The words leave her mouth in a fluid, rehearsed way, and she loses herself in his deep eyes.

"Three!"

"Fucking gladly.." He mutters, both of their eyes fluttering shut as his hand moves over to the small of her back impatiently.

"Happy New Year!"

Their lips brush against each other, her hands gripping onto his shirt with a vice-like grip.

Her breath hitches at first, making him chuckle cockily against her lips. His hand supporting her jaw in the most tender way possible, as his thumb rubs against the softness of her cheek.

The soft press of their lips touching make their hearts flutter.

Realizing there is no point of return from this, the feathery touches turn into heated, greedy ones.

The rush of adrenaline makes them lose their self-control, an unstoppable, alluring feeling injected into their veins as they continue soaking in the moment, until they part for air.

Their ragged pants brush against each other's faces, a small smile pulling at her lips. Eyes finding each other again, as their hearts beat in unison.

Jude stares into her eyes, thumb running down her jaw, as he smiles back at her.

"Beautiful. You're beautiful.."

[wlntrsldler]

If the boys played “never have I ever” in an interview, what would be revealed to the public?

I SPRINTED TO MY COMPUTER

here's the transcript of poisoned mercury's buzzfeed interview where they played never have i ever as part of their press tour to promote their new album:

interviewer: thank you guys for coming!

luke *smiling while he fixes his mic*: thanks for having us :) we were just talking about how we used to do buzzfeed quizzes when we were younger.

travis: there were many days where we'd be in luke's house back in connecticut and completely forget that we were supposed to be rehearsing because we got caught up trying to figure out which inside out emotion we were.

interviewer: well, i'm glad to hear it because today we're gonna play a game of 'never have i ever.'

chris: unrelated but i fucking love that show. team paxton for life.

luke: dude no. ben is clearly the right choice.

connor: ok mr. enemies to lovers, of course you'd say that.

luke: shut up???!

travis: i think if we took the inside out quiz again right now, i'd get disgust because that's how i feel being in a band with two idiots who are so in love with their girlfriends.

connor: swear to god if i hear another "no you hang up first," from either one of you *looks at chris and luke* i'm blowing my brains out.

interviewer looks around the room, trying to ask the producers what she should do. the video editors are already stressing because they know they have to bleep out a lot of the words the boys are using.

interviewer: .... so let's start with the first question. never have i ever gone skinny dipping.

chris: fuck, how did you get all of us on the first question?

connor: yeah we've gone skinny dipping a few times, but the most recent was last summer. mama c-- shoutout mama c, we love you!

luke: yeah, we love you mama!

connor: she put all of us on timeout and we spent the entire summer at a music camp and on our last night, we all went skinny dipping at the lake with our roommates.

luke: oh shit, i forgot about that. those were good times. *looks at chris* i miss camp bro.

chris: me too.

travis *stares deadpan into the camera*: do you see what we have to deal with?

interviewer: never have i ever had a crush on a friend's sibling.

travis: guilty.

chris *turns his head so fast*: given that you're related to connor and luke is an only child, you better be talking about a non-band friend.

travis *shrugging*: your older sister is hot, rodriguez.

chris: stay away from my sister.

luke *looks at the interviewer with wide eyes*: next question or you'll have a video to submit to worldstar.

interviewer: oh! uh, okay-- never have i ever accidentally posted something to my main account instead of my private or close friends one.

connor *cracking up*: castellan, wanna take this one?

luke *blushing*: this feels like a targeted question because we know the infamous video of me with the handsome squidward filter on (the hozier incident) that was supposed to go on my close friends story! i was so embarrassed. to be clear, i was JOKING. i don't actually flirt like that.

travis: i've seen you flirt with y/n, and you in the squidward video had more game than you normally do.

luke *teasing because he knows travis does not want a relationship*: and yet who's single between the two of us?

connor: oh he got you there.

travis: y/n, if you're watching this, you deserve better. he's a loser. i have better friends i can set you up with.

luke: five star, if you're watching this, you're stuck with me. there's no going back.

interviewer: never have i ever had a song written about me.

chris: this is a great pivot to promote our sophomore album's lead single, "kiss her you fool!" we wrote this song about our front man, luke, here. our second album "optimism don't come easy (unless it's with you)" is out now.

interviewer: i love that shameless self-promo.

connor: i think we as a band can benefit from having some shame, but thank you.

chris *turns to luke*: this will also come as a shock to you, but there's another song out in the world that's kinda about you.

luke: huh? which one?

travis: quinnie, remember her? she was in cabin 7. she wrote the bulk of it, but y/n actually gave her the idea. chris and connor helped her with instrumentals and the song is sick.

connor: it was amazing. quinnie is so talented. if you guys haven't heard her music, i highly, highly recommend it. the song we're talking about is called touch tank. you guys should check it out.

chris: agreed. she's also just a fucking cool person. she's one of our closest friends in the industry.

travis *making a heart with his hands*: we love you, quinnie!

interviewer: okay, final question since we're running out of time. never have i ever gone on a world tour for my band's second album.

luke *laughs*: i see what you did there. that was good.

connor: we are soooooo excited to announce that we're going back on tour! this summer, we'll be seeing all your beautiful faces again. tickets go on sale this friday! we hope to see you there!

luke: check out our band's twitter for more information on how to get tickets and to see if we'll be coming to a city near you.

chris: we miss seeing you guys!

travis: see you guys so soon! we love you!

interviewer: that's all the time we have for today. thank you guys so much. it was a pleasure!

[igotlovestruck]

mr lover [ ben chilwell ]

— right where you left lover girl sequel, this takes place two years later!

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — ben chilwell x singer!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — romance, mentions pregnancy, google translated french . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ clearing my drafts again 😵‍💫 if you ask me, i’m obsessed with singer!reader fics lol

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

benchilwell

liked by masonmount, yourusername, reecejames and others

benchilwell family time

view all 592 comments

user am i reading this right ?? ‘family’ time ??

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yourusername

liked by benchilwell, masonmount, cmpulisic and others

yourusername look at me, i am the favourite hooman now.

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user not y/n quoting from captain phillips 😭

benchilwell once i get back home, i will take my title back

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yourusername omg !! mr fuzzy wuzzy was my childhood pet 🥹 maybe i should adopt another ferret

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benchilwell

liked by masonmount, yourusername, judebellingham and others

benchilwell home is where the heart is.

view all 289 comments

yourusername but god i love the english

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yourprivate

liked by masonspriv, reecespriv, mikaspriv and 23 others

yourprivate hehe oops

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yourusername and benchilwell

liked by masonmount, chelseafc, england, madders and 8,826,937 others

yourusername we’re getting him a human in a few months 🙈

view all 399,826 comments

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user this is the cutest announcement 😭

user as a fellow dog mummy, i approve of this post!

weratedogs 100/10 for being such a good boy and will be the goodest big brother!

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user y/n went from writing how she’s stuck in the past, to loving herself and loving a new person 🥹 now she’s probably gonna write something about her baby ... just thinking about it rn makes me emotional

— ❤️ by yourusername

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benchilwell

liked by prodbymika, masonmount, madders, england and others

benchilwell eleanor chilwell is here 🩷👨🏻‍🍼 you did good mama, i’m proud and grateful to you, yourusername. i love you both

comments on this post have been limited.

yourusername thank you dada, we love you too 🩷

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, charles_leclerc and 3,826,929 others

yourusername the happiest i’ve ever been 🩷 merci pour tout mon benji. je t'aime toi et eleanor de tout mon coeur. (thank you for everything, my benji. i love you and eleanor with all my heart)

view all 150,729 comments

benchilwell 🩷🩷

user several chapters missed but i’m glad to see you so happy y/n 🥹

user i was surprised when they announced she was pregnant, bit i was more surprised to know that they’re married now 😭

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─────────────────

yourusername and benchilwell

2,836,729 likes

yourusername darling, don’t you ever grow up... just stay this little. happy birthday my sweet eleanor🩷 mama (with the help of dada) wrote a song for you baby, me and dada loves you sooo much. never grow up out now ✨

view all 238,861 comments

benchilwell growing up too fast, my ellie bear 🥲

user ellie bear... 😭 bens such a girl dad

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user y/n and her happy ending 🥺 CURRENTLY TAKING A BATH WITH MY TOASTER RN

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 19)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

For a fleeting moment, Tommy appeared defeated, having never expected such revelations tonight. However, regaining control swiftly, he leaned against the wall menacingly.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me sooner, eh?" Tommy roared furiously struggling to contain his anger. Sweat trickled down his forehead, making him shiver involuntarily as his mind raced through various scenarios regarding his future interaction with you and his son. 

"Because you abandoned me, Thomas! You said that you won't, but you did!" you shouted, exasperated and you could see Tommy visibly cringe upon hearing these harsh words, pain etched deeply across his features.

Inhaling sharply, Tommy turned abruptly, walking towards the window without saying anything further.

"No one can know that I am the father of your child, Y/N," he stated matter-of-factly after a brief silence, indicating his demand rather than asking for consent. "Do you understand?" he then ought to ask and you nodded. 

"I understand and I had no intention to involve you in his life until now that Polly told me about your plans for Boston," you said vehemently, standing your ground firmly. "Fucking opium, Tommy! I do not want to have any part in this business," you insisted, displaying your commitment to distancing yourself from this kind of life. 

"Do you seriously think that I would have put you in danger Y/N?" Tommy murmured softly, a pleading note laced in his question, searching your eyes earnestly before explaining the situation to you.

"Michael is taking on the opium business independently and I made sure that you are not going to be involved in these activities," Tommy explained before telling you "I still love you Y/N. I always will. And I will never put you into harm's way, I promise," Tommy declared solemnly, his tone heavy with conviction. "As much as you might hate me right now, I will always try to protect you," he told you and you looked at him, finally able to read genuine concern in his eyes - a stark contrast to the cold disregard you often witnessed.

For a split second, you considered letting go of your grudges and opening your heart once again to the man you used to love so passionately. But then, reality set in, reminding you why you chose this path and all the reasons why reconciling with Tommy wouldn't work.

Despite his claims, your trust remained broken, his promises unfulfilled. Even though you found solace in seeing him vulnerable and humanized, your resolve only strengthened as your pride refused to let you surrender to the emotional turmoil.

"I am glad, because my son means everything to me now and I need to be around for him so that he has a better life than me growing up," you replied coolly, turning away from him just as Tommy's maid, Frances, barged through the door.

"Mr Shelby, there has been an incident at the Midland Hotel," she informed urgently, her eyes wide with worry, causing your heart to skip a beat.

"There seems to be a fire," continued Frances cautiously, fear evident in her voice and, almost instantly, anxiety coursed through you as this was where your son was staying with your maid. 

"Oh my god. I need to go there, right now Tommy," you exclaimed, panicking as images of your baby flashed vividly in front of your eyes. Before Tommy could say anything, you hurried past him towards the door. 

"Wait, Y/N!" Tommy yelled but you ignored him, running frantically toward the exit. As you bolted through the house, you could hear Tommy calling your name repeatedly, ordering his staff to follow you and ensure your safety.

Tommy ran after you, following you to one of his Bentleys and helping you get inside. As he jumped into the driver seat himself, he glanced briefly at your flushed complexion and reassured you that everything would be fine.

"You don't fucking know that, Tommy. My son is there, with my maid, at the hotel. What if something happens to him?" you screamed, filled with dread and panic.

"You need to calm down Love. Panicking is not going to help you. Now focus, did anyone follow you from the docks when you arrived?" Tommy asked as, without hesitating, he pulled the vehicle onto a side street, speeding rapidly towards the hotel.

"No, no one has followed us," you replied uneasily while tightening your hold on the edge of the leather seats, anxiousness consuming you whole.

Tears brimmed silently in your eyes, ready to overflow at any moment. Gripping your hand, Tommy reached over and intertwined our fingers together in a desperate attempt to alleviate some of your stress.

All throughout the journey, his focus shifted between driving and checking on you, ensuring your comfort amidst the chaos unfolding outside.

Once arrived at the burning building, Tommy parked the car quickly and leapt out, heading towards the entrance. In the background, sirens grew steadily louder as more emergency vehicles approached.

"You cannot go in there Mr Shelby," a young policeman tried stopping Tommy, brandishing a stop sign in one hand. Despite his authority, Tommy forcefully pushed passed him, determined to find his son, dismissively ignoring the officer's protests.

You felt weak and helpless, your palms sweaty as you struggled to remain composed, clutching onto Tommy's arm for support.

As Tommy navigated through the crowd of concerned faces, pushing aside those who got in his way, a sense of relief washed over you as you saw your son being safely evacuated from the hotel along with your maid.

Your breath hitched audibly, the tension melting away like ice under sunlight.

Their clothes were singed and black smoke covered their skin, visible evidence of the horror they'd endured mere moments ago. Your instinct was to run to them immediately, but Tommy halted your movement, gently holding you back as, in the distance, he saw two men who appeared to be a thread. 

"Wait," he commanded sternly, holding you back as he watched the men closely before, with his other hand, unholstering his gun.

"Tommy, what's going on?" you demanded, steeling yourself as you squinted through the dense cloud of greyish smoke enveloping the area.

"The fire wasn't an accident..." Tommy muttered, observing the suspicious duo warily as they casually walked away from the chaotic scene. "And I think that you are the target," he then went on to say while keeping his cool.

"Me?" you asked, shocked. "But you said that I won't be in any danger with this new business deal taking place," you retorted accusingly, unable to conceal your alarm.

"It's not because of the new business venture. It's because of something Arthur got himself involved in while serving time earlier this year," Tommy explained, causing your chin to drop.

"My father went to jail? How did I not know about this?" you asked worryingly but Tommy simply told you not to worry too much about it before hushing you back into his vehicle discreetly.

"I need you to wait here for me while I clean up this mess. Promise me that you won't leave the car," Tommy ordered authoritatively, wanting to make certain that you would indeed wait for him instead of getting involved directly in potentially dangerous situations.

His commanding presence and intensity left little room for argumentation; you reluctantly agreed, feeling a mix of uncertainty and apprehension rising within you.

"Yes...but..." you began, causing Tommy to become impatient.

"Just fucking promise me Y/N! I will make sure your son...our son...is safe," Tommy finished off emphatically, locking gaze with yours to make sure you understood how serious the issue was.

Unnerved, you nodded fervently, promising to adhere to his directive.

Feeling guilty for placing you in such precarious circumstances, Tommy took another glance at you before giving you a gentle yet firm squeeze of your shoulder in reassurance. Then, turning away from you, he marched swiftly towards the hotel, disappearing into the thick clouds of grey smoke obscuring the entrance.

You watched intently, your entire frame quivering slightly in apprehension. After several tense minutes of waiting, Tommy reappeared beside your car window again, dusting the ash off his jacket which was also covered in blood. 

His intense demeanor didn't seem to waver, even in light of the terrifying events transpiring before your very eyes. 

"Where is my son?" you queried impatiently, your hands shaking nervously as you waited for an answer.   

"Moss is driving him and the maid to Arrow House as we speak. He is safe, but you and your family will need to stay with me until things settle down," Tommy responded grimly, attempting to console you as best he could in spite of the dire situation.

A wave of relief surged through you, temporarily calming your nerves. However, lingering concerns regarding your own safety persisted, forcing you to pose additional questions.

"What about the men? Will they not follow them?" you wondered aloud, wondering whether Arrow House was safe. 

"Not unless they rise form the dead," Tommy said before taking a seat in the driver's seat again. His tone was stoic and unfazed, leaving no doubt about his determination to put an end to these enemies and restore peace. 

"I made sure that message gets through to the man who sent them for you, and I will have my men guard the house to ensure your safety as well," he thus told you and, after that, an eerie silence descended upon you as Tommy drove off.

Unconsciously, you slipped your trembling hand into Tommy's, seeking warmth and security - a gesture that spoke volumes about your bond and affection for each other.

The atmosphere was sombre, tense – reminding you of the gravity of the situation and the danger this life brought with it and you knew that, for the sake of your son, things had to change.

For the first time since you met the Shelbys, you found yourself questioning whether you should continue down this path or try finding solace elsewhere. A life far away from any illegal activities perhaps but, this line of thought was interrupted by your arrival at Arrow House, which is where Moss greeted you out the front. 

Seeing your son's face caused tears well up in your eyes once more. Holding your arms open, you immediately took your baby into your arms, showering him with kisses and apologizing profusely for putting him in harm's way.

He was only six months old and still so innocent, but already experiencing terror like this, which pained you deeply as the responsibility you bore increased tenfold. The desire to provide a safer future for him intensified exponentially. All these emotions mixed together within you, creating an almost tangible weight within your heart.

"May I hold him?" Tommy asked cautiously, peeking around you at your precious boy while Moss took your maid inside. With tearful eyes, you looked over at him, nodded, and slowly handed over your cherished treasure to him.

Inhaling sharply, Tommy held the tiny infant against his chest, tenderly rocking him back and forth as if trying to absorb every last bit of fear and turmoil from the day's events. 

"What did you name him?" Tommy softly whispered, looking into the deep blue eyes of his son, whose eyebrows seemed perpetually furrowed in concentration. 

"I named him Edward," you informed him and Tommy smiled, feeling both love and admiration swell inside him as he cradled the small child in his strong arms. His gaze turned toward you, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow etched across his features. It was evident that the day's dramatic turn of events had taken its toll on him, too.

"He is perfect, isn't he?" Tommy remarked, gazing down at his son who was still nestled snugly in his arms. There was a quiet earnestness to his voice, and you couldn't help but feel moved by his sincerity. "Look at how peaceful he looks, in spite of all that happened tonight, eh" he went on to say and you couldn't agree more.

As you witnessed the tenderness with which Tommy handled the child, it became increasingly clear just how important family meant to him.

"He must be hungry. I should go inside and feed him," you offered hesitantly, making an effort to return to normalcy amidst the looming threats and escalating violence.

Without saying anything, Tommy gave you a subtle nod of approval, indicating that it was time for some respite and comfort. As you headed indoors, however, you noticed Tommy remaining outside, speaking to one of his associates. Curiosity piqued, you continued walking further into the house without interruption, passing through the grand entrance hall towards the dining room, still filled with guests.

Robert immediately acknowledged your presence, asking you what happened while Lizzie gave you a stern look and raised an eyebrow quizzically.

She knew that the child you held in your arms was Tommy's son but did not say anything, choosing to remain silent for now. Her jealousy simmered beneath the surface, and it wasn't until your father, Arthur, questioned whose child this was, that Lizzie spoke up. 

"That's your grandchild, I believe," she announced defiantly, drawing attention to everyone present. 

"My grandchild, eh? Who is the fucking father then?" Arthur demanded loudly, a hint of anger in his voice as he glared at you in disapproval.

"Just a man I met in Boston, who is not around anymore," you lied, not wanting to admit that Edward's father was no other than your very own uncle. 

Arthur scoffed at your explanation, muttering under his breath that there were never really any good men in the world anymore who were willing to take responsibility for their actions.

Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks redden as guilt crept into your conscience, knowing full well that you hadn't been entirely truthful. But you reasoned with yourself, telling yourself that lying about who the father was, served the greater good.

"Well then congratulations, Love. Welcome to fucking motherhood," Lizzie commented bitterly, unable to hide her disdain. 

Despite her animosity, you ignored her, focusing on the task at hand: ensuring your son's needs were met, especially during such tumultuous times.

"Thank you, Lizzie," you thus simply told her before she abandoned you to seek out her husband to be, who she knew had disappeared hours earlier, with you by your side.

When Lizzie finally found Tommy outside, she confronted him about bringing you and your son to his house for the engagement party. 

"Why would you bring her here, Tommy? And why bring her brat along as well?" she demanded, causing Tommy to become angry. "The child is yours, isn't it? You fathered a child with your own fucking niece!" Lizzie spat just as Tommy pulled her aside and told her to keep her voice down.

Frustrated by her accusatory tone, Tommy replied angrily, "I brought her here because she is fucking family, and so is her son. They need protection. But I didn't invite her to our fucking wedding, Lizzie! Polly did!" 

Lizzie rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Is he yours?" she asked and Tommy clenched his jaw, struggling to control his temper.

"No, he is not," he lied calmly and, again Lizzie rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he was lying. 

"I want this whore and her bastard child out of this house as soon as possible. Do you understand?" Lizzie retorted sharply, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. 

"She is my fucking niece, Lizzie! She will be staying until it is safe for her to return to Boston. Now go inside and attend to the fucking guests. I have things to do, eh" Tommy dismissed Lizzie abruptly, not bothering to conceal his annoyance. He needed to make arrangements for better security and handle various business matters related to recent developments.

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