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nevvdrinksteaa · 10 months ago

Text

history // charlie walker

pairing: charlie walker x reader

original prompt: you’re paired with charlie walker for a school project, it gets dirty

warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn WITH plot, afab!reader, slight angst (charlie thinks you hate him for like 5 whole minutes) pet names, oral (male and female), dom!reader, sub!charlie, begging, making out, fingering, whatever the fuck it’s called when you grind against sheets to make yourself c*m, overuse of the nickname ‘char’, never written for dom!reader before (bare w me), no specific reference to body type !! please let me know if i forgot anything!

word count: 3.1k

this is NOT proof read so if there are any mistakes ignore them! i believe that anyone of any shape or size and anyone of color can enjoy this. i don’t believe there is any description of physical appearance (please please correct me if i’m wrong, i don’t want to make assumptions about anything!!)

please send in more stuff for me to write because i’m in the mood to zoom 🫡

~~~

1:40 PM

you sat in history, your last period class, shaking your pencil hearing it tap, tap, tap with every move. eyes trained on the clock wishing the last twenty minutes would fly by quicker, eager to get your weekend started.

“for this project, you are all going to be in partners”

everyone shot up from their bored positions at their desks, starting conversations with friends deciding who’s working with who. you look over at your best friend, grinning.

“settle down, your partners were pre-chosen. i think we need some variety in the groups we see”

the class started to groan as the teacher stated that the partner lists were posted on the board, stating specifics on the projects and that it will be due on monday. everyone started to get up from their seats to check the list on the corkboard at the front of the room. you started to write down ideas, assuming your partner would find you.

of course it’s due monday, there goes my weekend. what’s the point of your parents going out of town if-

“uhm hey, i think we’re partners”

you look up, noticing charlie walker standing at the front of your desk, looking at the floor in front of him.

“you think or you checked the list and know?” you smirk at him, giggling to yourself.

“you got me there, i saw it on the list” he states, settling in the chair beside you.

he started rambling, talking about ideas he has for the project.

“okay charlie, here's the deal” you state bluntly, “my parents aren’t home for the weekend and i really want to get this project finished as soon as possible so i can have friends over on saturday”

he was taken back at your tone, shocked at the rude nature. he figured you didn’t like him, and wanted to get it over as soon as possible so you didn’t have to be seen with him. why else were you so angry when you had always been so sweet to everyone? weren’t you two friends?

“well we can do it after school and work on it today, i’m good at history so we should finish it really soon” he says quietly, trailing off towards the end.

“perfect” you say, grabbing your phone and handing it to the boy. “give me your number and i can text you my address”

the final bell rings and the class starts to gather their things. you sit up from your spot at the desk, collecting your books to leave. “i’ll shower when i get home and you can come over after, does three work?”

“sounds good.” he doesn’t look up from the desk as he’s still writing down notes.

“see you later, char” you say, giving him a smile he doesn’t notice.

walking back to your locker, you catch yourself thinking about him and how awkward he is, finding it indearing. you were excited to work on your project with him, you had a crush on him for a while and you hadn’t had any courage to say anything to him.

you grab your things and start the trek to your car, stopping your friend to tell her about your plans for today on your way out.

“the universe is giving you signs partnering you up with charlie, maybe it’s time to tell him about your crush.” she says, shoving her shoulder into yours as she walks.

“yeah right, he’s so infatuated with kirby i would just embarrass myself if i told him i liked him.” you state rolling your eyes. “he’d laugh in my face probably”

“he’s too sweet to do all that” your friend says stopping once you reach her car, “charlie walker is probably not the type of person to be rude about letting someone down, he’d probably say thank you and talk about a movie that’s about to come out”

she unlocks her car as you laugh at her joke, trying to ease the nerves in your stomach. you wave goodbye and turn to leave, hearing your friend shout out her window “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do”

you laugh as you walk to your car, sitting in the drivers seat and starting it before heading home.

maybe she’s right, i should just say something.

~~~

you wipe the steam off of the bathroom mirror after stepping out of the shower, skin red from the burning shower you took. you start to pat your damp skin dry before you heard a knock on your door. checking the time to see it was 2:45. fuck, he’s early.

you wrap yourself with the towel tightly before you start down the steps to answer the front door.

“hey” charlie starts, face starting to get beat red after noticing you in a towel. you notice him start to fidget with his hands.

“you’re early char” you say opening the door wider and waving him in. “you can wait in my room while i get dressed, it’s upstairs next to the bathroom”

you both start to walk up the steps and you point to the right when you get to the top. “it’s on the door on the left, get comfortable and i’ll be right there”

you hear charlie hum and grip the strap on his bag before he turns to your room. you step into the bathroom and finish getting dressed, drying your skin and putting on comfortable shorts and a crop top. you head back to your room and stand in the doorway, noticing charlie with his back to the door, looking at the pictures and vinyls hung on your walls.

“you’re not going to steal anything, are you?” you tease, sitting on the middle of your bed with your bag, pulling out your history books.

“of course not” charlie says, “just looking at all your stuff”

he takes a seat across from you, where he had preset his books and notes from class. you grab your phone and turn on some music, asking if the choice was okay and a hum of approval in response.

“so, where should we start?” you ask.

~~~

you guys worked on your project for about an hour before you heard your stomach growl. you drop your pencil and look up at charlie who was scribbling away. “are you hungry, char?” you ask

he hummed no at your question and you started to get anxious at his lack of response, he normally would talk your ear off about anything and everything. “is everything okay?”

“yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“you’re just really quiet today, i wanted to make sure everything is alright with you.”

“i just want to finish this project so i’ll get out of your hair, i know that you don’t really want me around”

his response caught you very off guard. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, shaking your head back and forth softly. “what are you talking about?”

he shrugged his shoulders, not looking up from his lap.

“char, look at me” he looked up at you, trying hard to keep eye contact. “why would you think that?”

“you said earlier you wanted to get the project over with so you could make other plans this weekend.”

you noticed him look back towards his lap and you were confused on what he was talking about

“i figured since you don’t like me, you wanted to get rid of me quicker”

your eyes softened, realizing you didn’t phrase your comment from earlier properly. you immediately felt bad, you never wanted him to think that you didn’t like him. you liked charlie, quite a bit actually. he was very smart, charismatic, and oh so sweet; you couldn’t believe he thought you hated him.

you scooted closer to him, setting his hand on his knee. he looked up towards you with a nervous expression.

“i don’t hate you, i’m so sorry that i made you think i did. i was just upset earlier that we were given a weekend project the same week my parents were out of town” you gave his leg a little squeeze

“oh” he replied, holding eye contact with you. “now i feel stupid”

“don’t feel stupid, it was all my fault. i’ll hang out with you all weekend just to prove to you i like you.” you paused, wanting to say something more. you took your hand off his knee and put it in your lap, looking at the ground, you took in a deep breath.

“actually char,” you start to trail off, feeling the nerves all the way down to your toes. “i really like you”

“what?” you felt the bed move, charlie shifting in his seat

“i don’t expect you to feel the same, i know you have a crush on kirby, robbie told me a while ago, i just felt like i needed to tell you before i lost the courage to”

charlie didn’t say anything, he felt so dumbfounded by your sudden release. he didn’t know what to say, he liked you to, he just never knew how to express it. he liked how kind you were to everyone and how you always loved to listen about everything he has to say.

you got up from your seat quick, anxiety crashing at his silence. “i’m so sorry, just forget i said anything. i’m going to grab a water” you state, heading towards the door

“wait” you heard him get up from the bed and head towards you, “do you mean it?”

you make eye contact, “of course i mean it, i wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true char”

he stood directly in front of you, “i like you too”

neither of you said anything after that, all that could be heard was both of your breaths and the quiet sound of radiohead coming from your phone. he looked between your eyes and your lips.

“do you want to kiss me charlie?”

“yes” he says softly

you felt his lips on yours, pecking slightly. he was so nervous, you knew you had to lead

“do you want to make out with me?”

“please” he nodded quick, looking back to your lips.

you lean forward to kiss him, hands moving up to the back of his neck. you could feel his hands on your hips, barely making contact. you slightly pull away, catching your breath.

“please touch me char”

you felt him grab your waist, pulling you back to his lips. you rake your fingers through his hair, pulling at the root slightly. he whimpered at the feeling, gripping your sides harder.

you started to walk the both of you slowly toward the bed, not breaking away from the kiss. you settled into his lap, feeling his hands glued in place.

“you can touch me anywhere” you say breathless, pulling away

“i’ve never done this before” he admits shamefully

“we can do whatever you feel comfortable with.” you reply, playing with his hair.

you felt one of charlie’s hands leave your hip, slowly heading towards your chest. he let out a breath when he felt you weren’t wearing a bra. he was gentle with his touch, as though he was scared to break you. your hand found his and pressed harder, encouraging his movements.

he started to kneed his hands, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your nipple. you let out a soft moan, pushing your lips back to his. you started to grind your hips back and forth, earning a breathy sound from his mouth. he opened his eyes to look up at you and you took the opportunity to bite the bottom of his lip, moving immediately to his neck, rubbing his cock with your hands.

“is this okay baby?”

“fuck- yes please”

you start biting and kissing the skin below his ear, moving your hands to start unbuttoning his shirt. he shrugs it off his shoulders and you start to make your way down to kneel on the floor, kissing and sucking his skin on your way. you look up at him as you fumble with his zipper, batting your eyelashes at him. he sits up slowly to help pull his pants down, taking his underwear with him. he sets his hands on either side of his legs, slightly gripping the sheets with nerves.

you take his dick in your hands, shocked at the size, before spitting on it. you rub your hands up and down earning a moan from charlie.

“fuck- please i-” he trailed off when you kissed the head, tasting salt on your lips.

“please what baby?” still stroking his cock

“i need more, i want more please”

you lick a long strip from his balls to the tip before putting him in your mouth. slowing going up and down using your hands to help with what you can’t fit. you grab charlie’s hand, moving it from his side to the top of your head. he laces his fingers in your hair, slightly pushing and pulling with your movements.

“i think i’m going to cum”

you pull off, stroking him quick with your hands, “are you going to cum in my mouth char? be a good boy and cum in my mouth for me”

he nodded, eyes shut tight as his head leaned back. “say it charlie, tell me”

he opened his eyes, locked with yours. wiping a tear from your face, so fucking pretty.

“i’m gonna cum for you like a good boy fuck-”

you went right back to work, taking him deeper and blinking the tears from your eyes. you wanted to see charlie cum so bad, you felt your hands move down inside your shorts. rubbing your clit over your panties.

“fuck, i’m cumming, please let me cum. wanna be good for you”

you moaned around his dick and felt charlie grip your hair harder. his dick started to twitch and you felt your mouth get hot, cum filling your throat and mouth. you pulled off slowly, swallowing as you went, keeping your mouth open to pump the rest of his cum on your tounge.

charlie was a rambling, moaning mess. whispering how good it felt and how good you were. he saw you give his dick one last kiss and come back up to meet him face to face.

“thank you”

you gave him a quick kiss, giggling. “you don’t have to say thank you”

he wanted to say it a hundred times over, he couldn’t believe that he just got head for the first time. “can i…” he trailed off

“can you do what char?” you sounded so innocent, like you didn’t just finish choking and gagging on his dick.

“can i do you now?”

you got close to him, kissing up his neck. “you want to eat me out baby?”

“yes, please. please let me make you feel good”

you nodded and stood up from your seat next to him, pushing your notes to the bottom half of the bed. you slipped your top off and pushed your pants down your legs, getting comfortable by your pillows. “come here char”

charlie was quick to move above you, taking your lips to his, touching anywhere his hands could move.

“i might need some help” he sighs sheepishly.

“start by moving all the way down” you say as you give him a quick kiss for encouragement. “do whatever you think is right, i’ll tell you if i don’t like it”

he nodded and moved to your neck, kissing and licking, keeping his hands roaming. you felt him reach your nipples, his hot breath close before sticking his touch out to lick one. he saw your lips open to let out a quiet gasp of air and started to suck, earning a moan in response. he moved his hand, pinching and pulling at the left while he kept his mouth at the right, then switching.

“just like that pretty boy” you said as you move your hand to play with his hair.

he was blushing at the pet name, feeling his cock getting hard against your hip. he started to move down, kissing anywhere and everywhere he could, scared you’ll change your mind. he makes it past your stomach and to your thighs, gently pulling them apart.

he lets out a subtle groan, “so pretty” he mumbles. “can i touch you?” he says rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.

“of course” you sigh, anxiously waiting for his touch

he slowly brings his hands to your pussy, collecting your wetness on his fingers and spreading it around. he finds your clit and starts to rub in small, slow circles, watching you raise your hips slightly.

“right there baby” you say closing your eyes.

he brings his mouth to your pussy, licking a long strip from your hole to your clit. “you taste so good” he says lowly, almost to himself. he continues to play with your clit and eat you out. trying different rhythms and motions based on your movements and sounds.

“char, please put a finger in. i’m so close”

charlie is quick to push in and up, finding that sweet spot. you grab his hair, pulling at the root.

“fuck yes, right there”

he can’t help it, all the mumbling and moaning makes him start to grind into the bed, intoxicated by you. he can feel his cock, hard and throbbing against your silk green sheats.

he slowly slides in a second finger, curling them upwards, taking your clit between his lips and sucking softly.

“i’m gonna cum” you felt your body start to feel fuzzy, stomach pulling at the feeling. “fuck charlie, i’m cumming”

you felt yourself tighten against his fingers, grinding down on his tongue, which was eager to lap up your release. you heard him whimper, seeing his hips stutter against the bed.

he pulls his head up from your pussy, making sure to not look at you in the face. “i’m so sorry”

you look at him confused, leaning forward to see the wet spot on your sheets. you smirk at him, grabbing his hand and licking your juices off his fingers.

“don’t be sorry, this was amazing,” you lean forward to kiss him “and knowing you came from eating me out is kinda hot”

you giggle as you lean back, still catching your breath. charlie moves beside you softly rubbing your hand. “so what do we do now?”

you look up at him, “well” you start lacing your fingers with his “for now, we lay here until we fall asleep. then tomorrow morning we’ll wake up and shower and maybe finish where we left off”

charlie grins from ear to ear, “oh yeah?”

“i mean, if that’s alright with you” you mumble

“being with you is alright for me” he says, kissing your forehead.

#charlie walker #scream 4 #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker smut #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #rory culkin x reader #nev writes

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 months ago

Text

Previous part here

Words: 4,362 Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Warnings: language (duh, it's Negan), references to past violence, references to traumatic events, fear and anxiety, mentions of illness and mentions of character death (Lucille), sexual content Summary: Having healed up from Dante's attack, Y/N pays Negan a visit. A/N: This is the last part in this series. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's always bittersweet to conclude a series, but opens the door for more new writing. <3 Looking forward to more Negan in the future! <3 Thanks for reading!

Why were you so nervous? You were wringing your hands as you climbed the steps of the apartment building and let yourself inside the outer door. Your heart was fluttering in your chest like a moth around a lamp. You chewed on your bottom lip as you headed down the hallway and stopped in front of a door with a shiny brass “4.”

You pulled in a deep breath and knocked, shifting a bit nervously as you waited for a response. You didn’t have to wait long. Negan pulled the door open with a curious expression which quickly grew into a relaxed smile when he saw you standing there in front of him. The light in his hazel eyes took you aback.

“Hey, doll. Well, isn’t this a nice fucking surprise?”

“Hi,” you greeted him. “Is now a bad time?” you asked, laughing a little, nodding toward the paint splotches on his gray t-shirt.

“Not at all,” he smiled. “Anytime is a good time for you. Come on in,” he said.

Negan stepped back to invite you inside. “Thanks,” you replied, crossing the threshold. Your heart was still racing more than it should. Negan closed the door behind you and followed you up the hall. “Doing some redecorating?” you asked, stopping in the living room. You could see old sheets draped over some furniture in the next room and a few brushes sitting out on a paint can.

Negan swept a hand back through his hair. “I’m sure you’ll be surprised to hear this, but I’m not really a flowered wallpaper kind of guy,” he said. “I found some decent supplies so I thought I might as well make this place a little more mine.”

You paced over to the doorway and peeked into the next room. The walls were freshly painted with a deep, dark blue. “Mmm,” you hummed, nodding. “Bit different than your last digs. And the ones before that…”

“Different is a good word.” He sighed suddenly and you looked back at him. “Fuck me, it’s good to see you,” he said. “You’ve got no idea how good. I didn’t realize it but I really got used to seeing you at least at every meal,” he said. You watched his eyes drift up to the fresh scar on your forehead, to the still healing split in your bottom lip, and then down to the fading bruises on your neck. His smile faltered a little at the sight and you thought you saw a faint flicker of anger in his eyes.

“Are you going through withdrawal?” you teased him, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Are you implying that I’m an addict and you’re my drug?” he asked in a deep voice. He watched your eyes widen a little and then crinkle in a smile as you held in a laugh.

“Maybe. Is that… accurate?” you asked with a hesitant laugh.

Negan pulled in a deep breath and there was some ember burning in his hazel eyes as he let it out slowly, his attention a bit intense as it was fixed on you. “Maybe,” he said in a low voice, gravel on the edge of it. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at you again. You registered the lean but strong muscles of his forearms. They were peppered with tattoos, revealed by his gray t-shirt. You felt a burst of warmth in the middle of your chest.

You ducked his gaze (chicken…) and found yourself nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t come by sooner. Things have been busy with the council since Dante, um—‘opted out’,” you said. “And then I’ve still been having some symptoms, so… resting a lot.” You still felt a wave of fear and a cold chill every time you thought of the doctor who had nearly killed you. Sometimes you had nightmares about him bending over you, the look on his face, the feeling of being totally helpless as you struggled, of actively knowing your life was drifting away under his hands. Negan’s voice pulled you from that dark trail of thoughts.

“You don’t have apologize to me, darlin’. I’m just glad you’re here at all,” he said softly. “Did they figure out how he punched his ticket?”

“Not for certain. But Siddiq suspects a cyanide capsule or something similar from what they saw when they found him dead in the cell. Daryl had searched him right after—after I was in the clinic when he went to question him. He didn’t find anything, but something that small would be easy to hide.” Negan nodded, his brow knit and expression serious. “I just wish we knew why he—why he wanted Alexandria to fall so badly. Everyone here was nothing but kind to him. There were no clues about it at all.”

Negan nodded. “I don’t think that fuckwad was ever gonna talk,” he said seriously. “And I’m real glad he’s dead. I might have gotten into trouble again putting his limp-dick, coward ass down myself after what he did to you,” he growled. You could see his hazel eyes darken with rage again as he thought about Dante’s attack. And there was a deeper emotion bubbling beneath the anger, something he hadn’t yet even fully admitted to himself.

“Well—” you ripped your gaze from his, ducking your head once again (double chicken…), a soft pout on your lips, “better you don’t get in trouble again, Negan. You’ve only just gotten out.”

“I’m guessing I have you to thank for that,” Negan said. “At least, in part.”

“First of all, you have yourself to thank for that. People are seeing how you’ve changed. Secondly, I withdrew from the vote. Seemed like a… minor conflict of interest considering it was my life that you saved,” you explained.

Negan nodded. “How close was the vote?” he laughed.

You smiled at him. “Not as close as you’d think,” you said. Negan would have to accept that as an answer. You paced around his scantily furnished living room and looked into the kitchen. He hadn’t been in the new space long, only since you’d left the clinic which was perhaps a week and a half ago. Before that, he’d pretty much refused to leave your side and Michonne had given in and not asked him to return to the cell once Dante had… vacated it.

You were curious to see how he’d make the apartment his as he got settled. He did have some of the shelves stocked with books already, including the ones you’d given to him when he was still in the cell. You looked through them, running your fingers over the leatherbound spines, tilting a couple down to look at the covers. Negan watched you from his spot leaning up against the doorway. He liked the sight of you here, looking relaxed and (in his opinion) like you belonged. It was a sight he could get fucking used to. You suddenly glanced back at him and smiled, perhaps even blushing a little as you realized his eyes were on you. “Are you being nice to the neighbors?” you asked, pacing over to the couch and sitting down, sinking into it and making yourself at home.

“Neighbors?” he laughed. “I’m pretty fuckin’ sure Michonne purposely put me into an empty building. Not too many people want the big bad wolf living next door,” he said.

“Well, maybe that’s for the best,” you admitted. “For you and for them.”

“Oh, absolutely. I plan to be downright vile and filthy in here. It’s gonna be my hedonistic bachelor pad,” he joked. “Interested?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “At least you’re honest in your advertising,” you retorted.

His teasing smile faded and then he was staring at you again with that look on his face, the one that was so soft it raised goosebumps on your skin. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. You felt your face flushing again. “What?” you asked him, one of your eyebrows lifting.

He shook his head. “Nothing. I just like the sight of you on my couch.” He straightened up. “In fact, I’ve got just the fucking thing for the occasion…”

You watched curiously as he went into the kitchen and quickly came back with a wine bottle in hand and two glasses. “Where the hell did you get wine?” you asked as he sank down beside you on the couch.

“Doll, I’d think you would have realized by now how resourceful I am,” he smiled, popping the cork. He was just pouring the second glass when he stopped, knitting his brow. “Wait—should you be drinking this after what happened? How’s your noggin’ doin’?” he asked, looking suddenly deeply concerned.

“It’s been two weeks. One or two glasses won’t kill me,” you replied. “I won’t tell Siddiq if you won’t…”

“Oh, thank fuckin’ God. I’m clearly only plying you with alcohol to lower your inhibitions for some freaky deaky,” he joked, giving you another amused glance.

“Negan!” you scolded him, feeling your face grow hot yet again.

“Too much?” he laughed. “I’m kidding of course, doll. The truth is… I—I think I’ve got you up on too high of a pedestal to ever try something like that.” He handed you a glass and you were giving him a queer look. He only smiled. That damn charming, wolfish smile that made your stomach flip.

“What are we drinking to?” you asked him.

“How about—and I know this is fucking cheesy but—new beginnings?” he offered, still smiling at you, his hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“I’ll drink to that,” you said softly. You clinked your glass against his and took a sip, settling in deeply to the cushions. Negan watched your smile fade and his brow drew downwards, low over his eyes. The hazel seemed to darken toward brown flecked with gold.

“Something on your mind, doll?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Not really. Just—sometimes it still hits me how close I came to dying that day. And—and when I was fading… instead of seeing the faces of people I loved, I could only look up and see him. You know how people say their life flashes before their eyes when they think they’re about to die? Or they’ll see their loved ones smiling at them, remember good memories? That—that didn’t happen for me,” you mused. “I could only see him. And feel the complete overwhelming fear and powerlessness.”

There was a long silence where you stared down into the deep plum color of the wine in your glass and you twirled it in your hands. “Oh, well… It’s over now,” you sighed. When you were brave enough to look up at Negan again, you were shocked to find that his eyes were glassy, seemingly brimming with tears.

He wet his lips thoughtfully and then sighed, setting his glass aside on the small table in front of the couch. “My wife—the only real one—her name was Lucille,” he said. “I was a complete prick to her—useless as far as being a good fuckin’ husband. I cheated on her. Spent money we didn’t have. Lost my job. But she—she was the real thing. Beautiful and smart and fiery and kind. I didn’t deserve her.” His voice was deep and laced with feeling. “She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer…”

Your heart ached. His breath was shaky as he went on. It was staggering to hear this near mythical man’s deep voice laced with such tender feeling and regret.

“The world turned when she was in the middle of her treatment. I kept her going as long as I could, finding the medicines she needed and delivering her doses of chemo but—” he shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed. “In the end, I couldn’t help her anymore.” His voice broke as he went on, his eyes shining with tears. “I—I couldn’t do the one damn thing she asked of me at the end. She was ready to go and she wanted me to be... She—she asked me to stay and just be with her until the end and I couldn’t do the last of what she fucking asked me to do. I went running off after medicine which wouldn’t do a goddamn thing for her.” He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and drew in a long, steadying breath, blinking away the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. “I was helpless to stop it.” He looked right at you, meeting your vibrant eyes, empathetic and concerned, with his own. It felt as if he’d cracked himself open to the core at that moment and your heart started to race. He reached for your hand and you startled a little at his touch, pulling your eyes from his and looking down as he smoothed his thumb over the silkiness of the skin on the back of your hand and then over the lines of your palm, much as he had that day in the cell, when he’d saved you those raspberries… Your heart was pounding as he spoke again, your breath stolen. His voice pulled your eyes back to his.

“When you fell that day, right in front of me but basically unreachable on the other side of those bars… and then when he came in—” Negan gulped and shook his head. “I felt that same fucking helplessness all over again. I felt the same terror that I wasn’t going to be able to do a damn thing. I can’t even put into words how fucking scared I was that I was going to lose you right in front of me.”

You had to remind yourself to breathe as he went on.

“It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve actually wanted anything. Except maybe to die or get out of that fucking cell. Until you came along, darlin’.” Negan’s eyes flitted down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

You found yourself nearly frozen as he clasped your face in his and caressed your cheek, his eyes searching yours. You felt the soft pout of your lips part just a little on their own, without thought. It was driving Negan crazy. He tilted your head slightly down and your eyes fluttered shut as he placed a kiss on your forehead beside the new pink scar and still fading bruising. His thumb traced along your jaw as his fingertips wrapped delicately around the nape of your neck. His eyes drifted down to the faint yellow and brown bruises from the doctor’s hands. Negan’s head tilted and he leaned in to kiss the side of your neck and then the front of your throat and then the other side. You felt like an electric shock ran through you at the touch of his lips, soft and tender, but heating you through. You couldn’t stop the breathy exhale that left you as he pulled away and met your eyes again, his hand resting on the side of your neck and his eyes searching your face.

His eyes flitted down to your lips again, perhaps settling on the now healed split in your bottom one. There was something pleading in the way he was looking at you, but somehow still dominant or powerful. You couldn’t quite find the right word… Like it was possible that he could consume you like the flames of a wildfire, but you knew he wouldn’t, at least not entirely. You felt nearly lightheaded despite having had perhaps two sips of your wine.

“You missed a spot,” you whispered to him… and he smiled. And it crinkled the corners of his eyes and set them alight. And the last of your reservations and hesitancy fell away as he leaned in, more hurriedly this time, and kissed you, tipping your chin up so your lips met his.

He kissed you with an unmistakable fire and need and you found yourself melting under his touch, yielding to his hands as they combed through your hair, tangling into it, and slipped down to grip your shoulders and smooth over the bare skin on your arms.

You reached for him and arched into his waiting body, your arms looping around his neck. Your fingers found their way into his hair as you kissed him back more heatedly, giving in to the need you too felt. The need to be touched and kissed and held by him, the need and desire you’d been warring with inside yourself since you’d felt that first spark of attraction months and months ago. Negan wrapped an arm around you and pressed the small of your back toward his body, tugging you against him, and smiling as you returned the kiss with more and more heat. He let out a hum and then a low chesty growl as your teeth dragged over his bottom lip and you fought him for more dominance.

“Easy, doll,” he warned you, separating just enough to speak. “Have you got any idea what you’re toying with right now?” he laughed. The man had hardly been touched in years and with every passing second, he wanted more and more to completely collide with you.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘doll’?” you asked, your voice breathy and low. You pulled back and met his eyes again and they were lust blown and starry, as you were sure yours were… but there was something else in them too. Some other something like tenderness. Heat was pooling in your chest and your heart was beating so hard and fast you were sure he could hear it.

Negan smiled. “I thought that had grown on you, but I guess we’ll have to find something more suitable,” he replied. He pulled back just a little and bit his bottom lip, considering you, that damn smile still on his face. “Hmm…” he hummed thoughtfully. “What do you want, baby?” His voice was deep and smooth as he said it, and you had a feeling the jerk knew exactly what that word would do to you.

A small smile started on your lips and then grew into a wide, jubilant one. Your arms were still around his neck “I want you to fucking kiss me again,” you said.

And he was more than happy to oblige, crashing his lips against yours in an almost bruising kiss. He could faintly taste red wine on your tongue and soon you were straddling over his hips on his lap, your hands clasping his face and running through his hair, drifting down to press a palm flat to his chest, his muscles rippling under your fingers. His hands drifted over the angles of your back and down to the curves of your hips and buttocks as he hummed into the kiss. Soon his hands hooked under your knees and he tipped you onto your back on the couch, suddenly leaning over you, caging you beneath him.

Both of you broke for a moment to catch your breath and Negan again kissed your forehead and your neck. His lips drifted across the scattered bruises there up to your jawline and then back to your lips. He pulled back again and caught your eyes, his expression intense but searching. “Is this too much too soon?” he asked you.

You smiled up at him again, still catching your breath. “Fuck no,” you breathed.

“Thank fuckin’ God,” he growled, before capturing you in a kiss again.

It didn’t take long before you were tugging his t-shirt over his head and he was freeing you of yours with an urgency of a man starved. He lifted you from the couch to press your skin to his as he peppered more kisses over your neck and down your collarbone, his fingers leaving hot trails on your skin.

Soon, the two of you were just flushed skin and crashed together completely, moving seamlessly with one another. Negan’s attention was intense and electric and it wasn’t long before he was pulling sinful and blissful sounds from you and you from him, your softness and curves driving him wild, every roll of your hips dragging him closer and closer to the edge. As you neared your peak and his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, his fingers laced between yours, and the only things you could hear were your own pounding heart and his ragged breathing as the two of you crashed over your highs together.

“Fuck me, baby girl,” he growled, burying his face against your neck and into your hair and breathing in your smell. He felt like his heart was about to burst.

You let out a light laugh. “I just did,” you purred into his ear.

He pulled back, chuckling, and smiled down at you beneath him. “You ain’t wrong,” he said, smoothing some sweaty strands of your hair away from your face. He leaned in and kissed you softly this time, gently. “Fuck,” he sighed, sweeping a hand back through his hair and separating his heated skin from yours. He reached for a blanket folded over the back of a chair beside the couch and spread it over you, hooking a hand under your legs and laying them over his lap.

You were chewing on your thumbnail, a little stunned and bashful suddenly as you looked up at him.

“You need anything?” he asked you, smiling at the blush in your cheeks. “Glass of water? Towel? Lobotomy?”

You laughed and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Lobotomy?!”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling. His hands drifted over your legs and drew circles on your hot skin absently. They smoothed down to give you a gentle foot rub as he looked over at you. “Because you must be out of your tits to fuck Alexandria’s Most Hated… I can’t believe you did that. Someone is going to have to give you a talking to.”

You shot him a half-amused look and rolled your eyes. “God, you’re right… What the fuck am I doing here?” you joked, starting to pull away from him and stand up.

“Nuh uh uh!” he laughed, catching you around the waist and tugging you back against him. “I am nowhere near done with you, baby,” he growled into your ear. Your top teeth dented into the pillow of your bottom lip. “How about we go get you cleaned up in a nice hot shower… and then get absolutely filthy again?” he asked, kissing your neck.

Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“And then you’re staying the night with me,” he murmured, brushing your hair to one side and kissing down your neck and shoulder.

“Oh, I am?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely, you are,” he said. “I want to hold you until the sun comes up. It’ll be the first good night of sleep I’ve had in six fucking years.”

You smiled to yourself. “Mmm… I guess that sounds okay,” you teased him, feigning indifference.

“‘Okay’?” he growled. “Oh, darlin’, you shouldn’t have said that…”

You let out a surprised peal of laughter as he lifted you into his arms and headed for the bathroom.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You awoke gently to sun filtering in through sheer curtains, staining the whole room a shade of medium blue. Negan’s warmth and weight was tucked up behind you, his arm draped over your waist. He rolled onto his back beside you as you stirred and you turned over to look up at him. Your hand landed in the middle of his chest and he gave you a peculiar look, a cautious smile on his handsome face.

“Morning,” you said, tucking yourself in against him more tightly, soaking in his warmth.

“Good morning,” he replied. You could feel the deep reverberation of his voice beneath your palm. “You doin’ alright, darlin’?” he asked.

“Hmm? Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked, a soft frown tugging at your lips.

“Well, I think part of me still expected you to roll over this morning and freak out at who was playing the big spoon,” he said.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and fixed a concerned expression on your face, looking up at him. “We’re going to have to work on your self-image, Negan,” you said. It pulled a laugh from him.

“Oh, are we, babe?”

“Yes!” you said seriously. “You have so much to offer. You’re more than your past.”

He sighed and gave you a more sincere, somewhat dreamy smile. “If you keep saying it, I might just believe it someday. Come here,” he said, pulling you back against him. You settled down under his arm, his hand landing on the dip of your waist. You tucked in against the crook of his neck. “Hey—one thing though. You can’t tell Daryl what we did on the couch last night. Or against the wall of the shower. Or at the side of the bed. Or the foot of the bed. Or—”

“Negan,” you sighed.

He laughed. “I’m just saying—he’s got this whole protective brother thing going on with you and I would like to remain alive and intact.”

“I can’t believe we’re in bed together right now and you’re bringing up Daryl,” you retorted.

“Hmm. That’s a fair point. Should we add another to my list of offenses?” he said, his hand drifting down to your thigh beneath the covers.

You laughed, heat already flushing in your chest and face. “Several, I think…”

“Several? You’ve got it, baby doll…” The End

#negan smith #negan imagines #negan drabbles #wicked wednesday #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan x y/n #negan fics #the walking dead #negan twd

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pjmmania · 3 months ago

Text

If Snow Decides to Fall

2. “Hi, you.”

Chapter Warnings: Light smut, references to sex, pregnancy

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jimin had gotten out of bed before you, for once. His place on the bed was left a gathering of sheets, cold and crumpled.

After brushing your teeth and hair, you got into a cozy lounge set, and padded out of his bedroom, into the hallway. The sound of running water could be heard from the kitchen, so that's where you headed next.

He was still in his typical sleep attire - boxers and nothing else. His toned back was facing you, giving a view of the moons etched into his skin. He was filling up a pot in the sink to make French-press coffee when he heard your footsteps.

You were greeted with his hoarse, low morning voice, "Hey, you're up."

"Morning," you yawned, "You are up earlier than usual.”

He turned off the tap as you sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island, “Yeah, I didn’t sleep well honestly. Kind of hard when you find out your girlfriend’s pregnant.”

“I know, I didn’t sleep the greatest either,” you said prior to realizing, then your cheeks flushed a deep rose, “Wait, girlfriend?”

Jimin turned around and put the pot of water on the stovetop to boil. He was grinning at you handsomely, with hair slightly disheveled, “We hang out, have dinner together, watch movies, have lots of sex, and we love each other enough to have a kid together. I’d say we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now, if you’d like to be.”

You smiled back, “I suppose that’s reasonable.”

He rounded the corner of the grey marble top of the island, aiming straight for your lips. His kiss was short and sweet, exactly the kind you had grown accustomed to when it came to Saturday mornings with him.

“Would you like some coffee?” He asked before pecking your cheek.

You wrinkled your nose, “I’d love some, but unfortunately I probably should stick to decaf now.”

He pursed his plump lips together and hummed, “Oh shit, that’s right. Are you hungry at least? I can make the eggs you like.”

“Over easy?” you shook your head and laughed, “I don’t think I can have those either. They’re too raw.”

Jimin chuckled, bowing his head in defeat, “Scrambled then.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded and happily returned to the stove, getting out a pan and setting it on one of the burners. As he opened the fridge to get out a carton of eggs, he glanced back at you through slightly puffy eyes, “So aside from not being able to have your normal breakfast, is there anything else different?”

You propped your chin up in the palm of your hand, “You mean the symptoms? Well, it’s been kind of mild, to be honest. The only symptoms I’ve had so far are sore boobs and a little bit of spotting. Actually, now that I think about it, I might be sensitive to the smell of kimchi too. But that’s all.”

“I hope it continues to be relatively easy," Jimin cracked a few eggs into the pan, "But I'll be here for you if it gets worse. This reminds me of something important I thought about while you were sleeping - your key."

You tilted your head to one side, "My key?"

"To my apartment," he said, "You have it, but you always knock on the door and wait for me to let you in. From now on, please use it. Let yourself in, whether I'm here or not."

"Are you sure? I don't let myself in because I know how much you value your privacy."

He smirked, whisking the eggs to scramble them, "If I wanted privacy from you, I wouldn't have given you a key in the first place. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I really enjoy your company."

In an attempt to conceal how much of a sucker you were for his little flirtations, you pursed your lips together. Still, it was plain as day when he glanced at you. This flustered yet giddy expression was a habit of yours that he adored.

Jimin turned the heat up slightly on the stove before letting the eggs do their thing, "Besides, I want to be here for anything you need. My biggest fear with this whole thing is not being there like any decent father would be. It will be hard enough with my schedule."

You detected the insecurity on his face, "Don't worry. I promise I'll use the key from now on."

You scooted the stool backwards so you could get up. Then you made your way to the other side of the island, hugging him from behind. Your cheek pressed against his back.

He released a content sigh and twisted himself to face you, enveloping you in his chest instead. His lips kissed the top of your head, "It's interesting. I feel like one moment, it's really hitting me, and the next, it doesn't feel real."

"I know," your voice was slightly muffled against his skin, "I can't believe I'm going to be a mom."

Jimin had recollections of you playing with the kids of your coworker. He knew you had a loving, natural touch with children, "I've seen you with Chaeyoung's twins. You'll be an amazing mother."

You didn't know if you believed him with such immense pressures staring you down, but you smiled anyway, "And I've seen you with the managers' kids. I think you'll be an outstanding father."

He laughed a little nervously, "It feels so absurd applying the word 'father' to myself."

"But we'll get each other through it," you muttered, "Because we love each other, right?"

He smiled again, closing his eyes and cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms, "Exactly."

Both of you heard a little sizzle coming from the pan on the stove. Jimin chuckled, “I’d love to stay like this, but I don’t want to serve you burnt eggs.”

Eating breakfast that morning was slowed by both of your needs to talk this through some more. He had to leave for another recording session at noon, but there was still time to discuss some of the general things.

You told him about what your care provider told you, “Apparently, the best time for me to get an ultrasound is in the next couple of weeks. I’m assuming Doctor Baek will be able to give me a list of recommendations for obstetricians. I guess you wouldn’t be able to go…would you?”

“I hate to say it but I don’t know,” he said with his hands on his thighs, “We are due in Tokyo next week and will be there for eight days, doing various promotions and the Vogue shoot. This is going to be one of the biggest issues throughout this whole thing. Some things are easy to get out of, but others won’t budge. And even if I could make it to an appointment, how would I be able to explain my presence there?”

You don't know how you could have forgotten about the Tokyo trip. Sometimes, you attended trips like this, but a photoshoot as big as Vogue didn't require your assistance. They had quite a few of their own people for styling.

“That’s right,” you huffed in a slouch, “The doctors are legally prohibited from saying anything, but there’s no way we’d be able to avoid other patients and staff seeing you and talking.”

He swallowed a bite of food, nodding along, "It might be a stretch, but if we can get the ultrasound for this coming week, we can have the doctor come here. As you know, I leave my Friday evenings free when I'm in town."

"Here? You're comfortable with that?"

"Not entirely," he admitted, "But like you said, they can't say anything without risking losing their license. It makes sense for the sake of privacy, and it would allow us to squeeze it in between all of my commitments."

"That sounds nice, but I’m going to be swamped at work this week. We’re putting together your styling concept for the tour next year. Maybe we could find time after you get back from Japan.”

Jimin became more serious and put his hand on your knee, eyes firm, "Y/N, as much as I want to be there, let's not ignore the advice of the professionals. If it's better to get a read on you and the baby sooner rather than later, then don't wait for me.”

It was disheartening, but it was something you’d have to get used to. You wanted to do this, but it little about it would be normal. You had to make peace with that.

“Okay,” you sighed, “I’ll call today and see what’s available.”

He leaned forward to kiss your temple, “I’ll be excited to hear all about it, baby.”

You smiled at his touch, “Well that’s that. Now onto an even more pressing matter…”

He finished what was on his plate and took another sip of his coffee, “Which is?”

“Who are we going to tell about this?” You asked with raised brows, “Obviously no one at the company can know, at least not yet.”

“I’ll have to tell the guys at some point before you start showing, or they will figure it out on their own. And I know they would keep the secret for as long as we asked them to.”

You already felt mortified with that, but again, you had to get used to the awkwardness, “Alright. What about our parents?”

A twinge of guilt rang through him, like a child who was about to get a scolding. Jimin took his empty dished and got up to put them in the dishwasher, mumbling a cuss or two.

He said under his breath, “My parents would definitely come around, but they’ll also want to kill me.”

“Do they…know about us?”

The dishes clanked in the washer as he shuffled some things around, making room for the new ones, “I’ve told them I’ve been seeing someone and that things have been getting more serious. But they’d never see this coming. What about your parents?”

Your features sank, “They’d probably want to kill you too, no offense. I don’t think they’d be thrilled with the idea of their daughter having a baby with a popstar out of wedlock. It’s, uh…kind of a negative trope.”

“I get it,” Jimin then came over and took your dishes away for you, “Have you told them about us?”

You wanted to shrivel up and hide somewhere, “Not exactly…”

He was taken aback, “Really? Not a single thing?”

You sat on your hands and shrugged, “They’re as traditional as it gets, Jimin. They wouldn’t react kindly to me sleeping with you. They don’t even agree with the career I chose. Honestly, I don’t really speak with or see them that often. They live on the other side of the country.”

He could have been offended by the idea of your parents’ disapproval of him, but he wasn’t. Instead, he grinned, “Then I guess we have our work cut out for us.”

You half laughed, though you were more apprehensive than amused, “We certainly do.”

Jimin was the last to join the recording session. It wasn’t a big deal - the others started without him, taking turns in the booth.

When he entered the recording room, Jungkook was in the booth with headphones on, singing the lines in front of him. Yoongi and another producer were sitting at the panel, while all the others were either sitting on the couch or bean bags.

“There he is!” Hoseok called out with his classic mile-wide smile.

Taehyung covered his mouth, chuckling, “You look exhausted, hyung. Late night?”

Just because the work had begun didn’t mean he could escape a little teasing. It was normally alright with him. After all, they all knew about the affair, but his patience would be thinner than normal today. He was running on little sleep and just had his world shaken.

He faked a short laugh, but it didn’t travel all the way to his eyes, “Yeah, late night.”

Namjoon made room on the couch and he sat back onto the plush leather, letting his head lean all the way back. The leader and the others were glancing at one another with confused looks on their faces. It was typical for Jimin to be the last one to arrive, but once he showed up, he was in work mode. Right now, he looked somewhat out of it.

“Woah,” Jin said, “Must have been a really late night.”

The session lasted hours. Much to their surprise, Jimin never seemed to get into the groove. He recorded his parts well, but the intense focus was simply absent.

Jungkook, who had been with him the day before, already had a suspicion that this was about you.

Not only was this their brother who they passionately cared for, but they also had an important trip coming up. They needed to figure out what was going on.

When it was time to wrap up, the six members waited for the other producer to leave the room. It was only after that could they mention you by name. After all the years together, it was like they developed a form of telepathy. Something was up with their friend, and they moved in-sync to fix it.

Jimin was puzzled as to why no one was grabbing their things to leave.

Once they were isolated as a group of seven, Namjoon started the conversation from his same spot on the couch, “Let’s stay for a few minutes to talk about whatever’s going on.”

He knew it was about him, “I’m alright, guys. Really. Just exhausted.”

“Are you positive? Because you don’t just seem tired. You look withdrawn.” Jin said.

Trying to play it off coolly, he smirked, “That can happen when one gets tired.”

“Jimin, come on. It’s us,” Hoseok urged, “We just want to make sure you’re all good.”

“I am.” He gave the persuasion another go.

But it was to no avail. Jungkook spoke up next, leaning with his back against the wall, “I’m sorry, hyung, but I have to wonder if this is about that thing with Y/N yesterday.”

“What thing?” inquired Yoongi.

The youngest of the group looked to the man in question to give him a chance to respond, but when Jimin had nothing to say, he continued, “I was with him when we ran into her on our way back from the shoot. Their exchange was kind of weird and timid. Something between them was off.”

The others could definitely see how that would be strange. They’d all witnessed the two of you interact before, and it was always great. You gelled together so well, so effortlessly.

“Oh,” Taehyung took a much more sympathetic approach this time, “Are you guys going through a rough patch?”

He would have panicked that someone had heard that, but he watched the producer leave with his own eyes. It was all clear, “No. As I said to Jungkook yesterday, we are perfectly fine.”

They weren’t buying it. Their disbelieving faces made that painfully clear, but he couldn’t tell them the truth yet. Both of you would need some time to let this sink in and plan some things out. Still, he had to give them something, just to get them off his back.

Jimin sighed, “Okay, fine. I was going to tell you all when it felt like a good time and place, but something has changed between us. Recently, Y/N and I decided that we are going to start taking our relationship more seriously.”

“Soooo, what?” Jin asked, “You’re finally going to call yourselves a couple?”

“Yeah...I also told her I love her.”

Some of the guys hooted, others sighed out of pure relief. They thought this day would never come.

Yoongi chuckled, “That’s wonderful and all, Jiminie, but we all fucking knew it for months.”

“About time,” Taehyung beamed, “So she’s officially a girlfriend?”

Begrudgingly, knowing it would cause another mass tease, Jimin nodded, “Yes, she’s my girlfriend.”

Hoseok smirked, “So you’re exhausted because you’ve been pulling out all the stops, huh? Nice.”

“And he’s not focused because he’s got love on the brain.” Jungkook messed with his hair a bit. Jimin quickly brushed it back into place, rolling his eyes with a soft grin.

Oh, if only they knew what was actually on his brain at the moment, he thought. But it didn’t matter. He did what he needed to do for the time being. Now all he had to do was keep up the facade for a few more weeks, or until you and him mutually decided it was the right time.

All but one began to get their things together in preparation to leave. Namjoon felt another point needed to be made on this topic, but decided to let it go for now. It was getting close to dinnertime and they had made plans to order in at Jin's place. He would bring it up there.

Jin's apartment was so home-like and comfortable, which was why it was a common hangout spot for the group on nights like this. There was a feast of food in front of them to share and fill their stomachs. The soju was flowing, warming them up and loosening some tongues.

Jimin, for one, appreciated some semblance of normal life with his friends. He tried not to dwell on it, but he realized that being a part of nights like this would likely become a scarcity once he had fatherly duties to perform. His career would have to change, but now he was confronted with the possibility, or inevitability, of his friendships changing.

Hoseok, who was sitting next to Jimin, gave him a fraternal arm around his shoulder, tugging him closer, "Hey, now that you and Y/N are official, she should come around us more often. She could spend some time with Yunhee too."

Yunhee was his longtime girlfriend, and by no means the only serious romantic partner in the group. Namjoon and Jin were in relationships as well. It could be good for you to get to know the other women who were dating members of BTS, if anything for the moral support side of it all.

The head of the group heard Hoseok's suggestion and it resurfaced his concern from earlier. His head perked up, thinking now was the right moment. Namjoon consumed another sip of soju first.

"I don't know if that's the best idea, Hobi."

The other conversations at the table simmered down. He didn't intend to get everyone's attention, but there was nothing to do about it now, "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy for you, Jimin. Y/N is a nice person and all, but let's not forget where she's employed."

"So what?" Hoseok's brows were furrowed, "She can't hang out with us or our girlfriends because she's a stylist?"

"Well...yeah," Namjoon sighed. It didn't feel good to administer this dose of reality, "At least not in larger social settings."

"That's a little much." Jungkook remarked.

"No, he's right," Taehyung said, "I think we all trust ourselves and the other girlfriends to keep it quiet, but no one else can know. I don't know what repercussions they would have for you, Jimin, but Y/N would get fired."

"Exactly, thank you Tae," the leader nodded, "It sucks, but we can't treat this like we treat the other relationships. None of us want to see her lose her job over this. That means she can't be invited to parties, or given any special consideration when we run into her at the studio. We have to keep doing what we've always done."

Naturally, eyes began to land on Jimin, who was sitting there quietly until he noticed. He shook his head and swallowed the cut of pork that was in his mouth, "Look, Y/N and I are adults. We know what it means for us if we want to be together. Maybe someday, if things keep getting more serious, we can try to work around the company. But for now, we've talked about it and we can live with it."

There was a short hush at the table, as if everyone was expecting him to make some kind of protest against the notion of continued secrecy. Jimin began to think about what Hoseok said initially. Knowing what he knew, he thought it would be a good idea for those closest to him to get to know you better.

He added, "I do think it would be nice for you guys to spend more time with her, though."

"Sounds good to me," Jungkook grinned, stretching his arms up behind his head, "Besides, I'd like to know the inside scoop on how they plan on dressing me for the tour. Pick her brain a little."

Jimin chuckled, "I think they are in the very beginning stages of that, but go for it."

Namjoon was glad that there was a general agreement among the members. However, if he was honest with himself, his concern wasn't just with outside people having raised suspicions - you were in question too. Plenty of women chased fame through matters of the heart. What if you were capable of leaking the relationship yourself for a bit of notoriety?

He felt slightly disgusted with himself for thinking it, but his protective side was coming out. It had happened to other idols before. Plus, the fact of the matter was that none of them knew you that well. It couldn't be ruled out.

"Well, at least we don't have to keep pretending behind closed doors." Yoongi laughed.

Jimin looked at him, confused, "With who?"

"With you!" Jin guffawed, "You were so reluctant to put any sort of label on this relationship for so long. And you got annoyed whenever one of us would bring it up, so we've all been acting like we didn't notice the obvious."

"I feel like we do a pretty good job of hiding it," Jimin defended himself, "I don't treat her any differently than the other stylists."

Hoseok nudged him lightly, mouth full of ramyeon, "Yes, but in private, you have a certain face when she comes up in conversation. Seriously, we'll have to hold up a mirror for you next time it happens. Your eyes start darting around the room and your jaw gets really tense, the same thing that happens when you're suppressing any emotion."

He laughed at himself, taking another shot of soju, "Then I'm glad I don't have to embarrass myself anymore."

The evening returned to normal after the guys got bored of teasing their friend. All the while, Jimin felt like an imposter in his own body. He was selling it so well, a happy version of himself.

To some extent, he was happy, but he was also in a state a shock and apprehension. Three emotions swirling about within him, all equally strong and combative. He knew the shock portion of it would fade away soon, but could only hope that the nerves would follow suit.

He felt sturdy in his love for you and the desire to go through with the decision - he only wished that he felt confident that he could be a good, present father. His own dad was always there for him, nurturing and guiding him every step of the way. Jimin felt like he could count on him for anything. Would this child feel the same?

The hang-out ran late, giving him plenty of time to stew internally. Contradictory to past behavior, he was the first to call it a night.

The others started trickling out one by one, back to their own apartments. Being the named leader of the group, Namjoon always found himself being the last one out the door. Though he fell in the middle of the rank when it came to age, he tended to act like the oldest sometimes. Always making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to, or, on nights like this, making sure they were all okay to drive home.

A perceptive and sensitive soul, Jin always noticed this and it made him pity Namjoon. He could let loose every now and then - the leader side of him didn't need to be switched on all the time, certainly not when it was just the seven of them in private.

Once the others were all gone, Namjoon let out a breath. He still had to get his charger and light jacket, and then he'd head out too.

Bending over to unplug his charger from the outlet by the baseboard, he said to the host, "Thanks for having us as always, Jin. Sorry it went so late again."

The oldest waved away the compliment, "Never a problem, Joonie. But you do know this is my apartment, right? You don't have to stand here with me and say goodbyes until they're all gone."

Namjoon chuckled and fiddled with the white cord in his hands, whirling it like a propeller, "Yeah, I know. Old habit, I guess."

He then put on his jacket, fixing the collar and tugging it in a few places. The two men locked palms and brought it in for a hug, patting each other on the back with their free hands.

"Well, I'll see you." the leader smiled tiredly.

"Night." replied Jin.

Namjoon approached the door to make his exit, but he couldn't shake this one thing. He paused, "Hyung?"

"Yeah?"

He turned back around and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, "Do you think this whole Y/N thing is good for Jimin?"

The older appeared unpleasantly surprised that he could pose such a question, "Uh, yeah, I do. She seems really sweet and they've been going pretty steady for a long time without an issue. Why?"

"Nothing, I just...nevermind."

"No," Jin stopped him from leaving, "What is it?"

Namjoon pursed his lips together for a moment, "I don't know. All of the potential issues with the company aside, what if she's just chasing his money or fame?"

Jin smirked, "I could maybe wrap my head around the money concern, but fame? They're a secret. There's no fame to be had. Unless you think she'd blab to the press on her own?"

He shrugged, "I mean yeah, it's possible. It wouldn't be the first time a person dated someone famous for some time in the spotlight. Now that they're serious, is it so strange to worry that she might turn around and use Jimin for some time in the spotlight?"

"Actually yes," Jin laughed in disbelief, "Because her job is on the line."

"I'd argue there would be plenty more for her to gain by publicly associating herself with one of the most famous faces on the planet."

The oldest member became more frank, "I have to say I'm surprised at you, Namjoon. It isn't like you to rush to judgment like this, especially of someone you hardly know."

He defended his consternation, "Well, it's the first time one of us has had this type of risky relationship. I just want to make sure Jimin's thought this through. If she-"

"She won't."

"But if she does, what happens? He'd be crushed. We all know that his last breakup tore him apart, and that was done in private. Imagine what it would do to him if she betrayed him like that."

Jin sighed, "Look, I think you're a good friend for wanting to guard his wellbeing, but no one here has been given any reason to think that Y/N would do anything like that. And Jimin is a full-grown man. He's capable of making his own decisions. It doesn't make you any better of a leader to helicopter over his dating life, even if you have doubts."

Namjoon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, nodding. Jin was right. There was nothing to validate his concerns - it was all mere conjecture.

"Okay," he breathed, "You're right. I guess all we can do is stay out of it and see where it goes."

His older brother gave him an exhausted smile and patted his shoulder, "Exactly. Goodnight, Joonie."

Namjoon turned around, nodding his head, "Night."

As he left the apartment, he still had a nervous feeling planted in his intuition. There was just something about this he didn't like.

*One Week Later*

You went to Jimin's place the Saturday morning before he left for Japan. You hadn't been able to make it the night before, buried in work up to your eyeballs. It had been a rough morning for you so far - the infamous morning sickness had arrived throughout the past few days. It was funny they called it that, you thought, because it wasn't relegated to the morning only. So far, however, it was pretty manageable with the help of a vitamin. More often than not, it was a wave of nausea that would hit you without resulting in actual vomiting.

For the first time, you let yourself into the apartment without knocking. Once inside, you saw his duffle bag by the door, all ready to go, but he was nowhere in sight. The blinds were open, however, so you assumed he was awake.

You set your purse down on the entryway table and removed your shoes. As you padded closer to his bedroom, you picked up on the faint sound of the shower running. Entering the bedroom, you saw that the bathroom door was wide open, the space inside becoming slightly steamy.

You couldn't help but smile a bit as you went in. There was a large corner tub in there, but it was empty. Your eyes went instantly to the feast of Jimin's bare frame on full display in the walk-in shower. No curtains, no glass door. Just him.

His back was facing you, unbeknownst to your presence, letting you get a good view of his toned backside - and that included all of his backside. If only you weren't feeling so shitty, you would have been enticed beyond help.

You crossed your arms and cleared your throat.

Jimin didn’t even turn around, only laughed lowly, “Enjoying the show, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “Only a little, and unfortunately I mean that. I feel terrible this morning.”

He turned around, slicking his fully damp hair back out of his face. Eyes containing a devoted concern, he felt an entrenched need to solve the issue, “What’s wrong?”

You sat down on the closed toilet seat and sighed, hands on your knees, “Mainly queasy, a bit fatigued.”

He smiled sympathetically, extending his hand, “Come on.”

You laughed a little, “In there?”

“Nothing sexual, I promise,” he smirked some more, “Seriously, it will help.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and took off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. You trusted that his intentions were nothing but authentic. You caught him ogling your body once or twice, but he kept his urges in-check as you took his hand and stepped into the shower.

The warm water pattered on your skin, already giving way to some relaxation in your stirred stomach.

Jimin wrapped his arms around you from behind, kissing the cartilage of your ear, “I used to get horribly nauseous before big performances and interviews. A warm rinse and some deep breathing always helped me ease up. Just focus on breathing, I’ll take care of the rest.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his caring embrace, “Okay.”

You kept your eyes closed as you inhaled and exhaled slowly, concentrating on the drops of water hitting you like a massage. Even better was the feeling of him washing you with a soapy loofa. There was no scent to whatever body wash he was using - just a soothing, sudsy coating on your skin.

Despite him meaning his promise not to take a lewd approach, Jimin couldn’t help but get a semi as he cleansed you, touching and looking at every inch of you. Your breasts were even more pillowy when they were glistening with shower drops.

“Is it helping?” He asked quietly.

You nodded with a soft grin, “Yes, thank you.”

The applied pressure lessened when he got to your stomach. He glided the wash over this area lightly and lovingly. When you realized how much attention he was giving to this part of you, your eyes opened to find him looking down at your abdomen with a lightness on his features.

You wiped some strands of hair out of his face, sticking them on top of his head with the rest, “What are you thinking about?”

He looked up to meet your gaze, “How nervous yet eager I am to watch your belly grow.”

You cupped one of his cheeks in your palm, “We can be nervous yet eager together then.”

He took a gentle hold of the wrist near his face and kissed your hand, “I really am sorry that I’m going to miss the appointment on Thursday.”

“I am too,” you sighed, “But it’s not going to be helpful to us if we dwell on things we really can’t change at the moment. Our experience will be different. We just have to live with that.”

Jimin hummed and turned you around slowly so that he could hug you from behind once more. His chin nestled on top of your shoulder. As he treated you to a couple of affectionate pecks on the neck, you held his arms.

“I just know there’s some way we can do this without having to be so elusive. There has to be. We can’t keep this a secret from the company and the public forever. Neither of us can live like that.” He said.

You continued to breathe deeply, the sickness subsiding bit by bit, “I hope you’re right.”

The two of you remained comfortably silent in the shower for a little while longer, simply existing with one another. It ended far sooner than you would have liked, but he had a flight to catch and would need to leave for the airport in an hour.

Both of you got dressed again and shared a cuddle in the living room while there was still time.

You enjoyed being encased into him while you could, your nausea almost gone now, “I know it’s only eight days but I’ll miss you.”

He felt the same. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been apart for that long before, but things were radically different now. There was something tying you together now on a much deeper level, “I’ll miss you too. I hope this coming week is easier for you.”

You put on a brave face, “I have feeling this won’t let up for a while. I read that some women have sickness their entire pregnancy. I hope I’m not one of them, but I’ll live either way. My workload will be lighter, so that might help.”

Jimin chuckled, rubbing your thigh absentmindedly, “Are you going to save the hottest wardrobe for me?”

You giggled, “You know the final decision isn’t mine. It will take some time, though. We are still in the elementary phases. Once we have all of the fabrics and color palettes finalized, we will move on to the shopping phase.”

“That sounds so fun,” he lamented, “Getting to pick designer clothing for all of us.”

“It can be fun, but it’s a lot of pressure at times to match the concept perfectly. You’d be surprised how many moving parts there are to simply picking out some outfits for the stage. We also take your personalities into account, to some extent, because you pick your own clothes for most interviews and promotional activities. If the clothes you wear on stage match your real style to some degree, then suddenly the whole thing feels like one giant authentic concept.”

He kissed your temple and laughed, “You’re such a little nerd for your job.”

You pushed into him playfully, “Rude.”

“No, it’s cute, baby,” he went on chuckling, “I love that you’re passionate about it.”

You exhaled into his chest, “I am, and I’ve grown to really like the people in the department too, not just the ones who are assigned to BTS. I guess that's why part of me wish we wouldn't have to let this secret out. I wish I'd be able to stay."

Jimin held you tighter, "You don't know that you won't."

"It's a high probability," you said, "It's like you said earlier. We can't keep this from the company forever. Living like that would be hell."

"We'll take it one day at a time. I just don't want to see you give up hope that things will work out."

"I won't," you promised, "I'm just trying to be realistic."

He huffed, "I know you are. I wish I could make reality more comfortable for us."

You shifted your position, propping yourself on your elbows to be able to look him in the eyes, "Speaking of being realistic, when are we going to tell the guys and our families?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he had to mentally prepare himself to comprehend doing either of those things, "I can't wait too much longer without telling the members. Last weekend they noticed something was up. I was able to brush it off by telling them we decided to make things official between us, but they're just too close to me to keep the secret for very long."

You accepted this. It only made sense. These men knew him so intimately and were around him constantly. You adored Jimin but agreed that he probably would fail to conceal the news from them for very long.

"Okay," you said, "Maybe we can tell them together a few weeks after you get back. I'll be starting to show within the next month or so, and I'm sure you want to leave time to tell your family before the members."

He concurred, "I would like to tell my parents sooner rather than later. This just feels too big not to share with them right away. And honestly, as much as I'm dreading their reaction, I would appreciate their advice."

You tried to offer a reassuring smile, but the topic was disconcerting for you too, "I understand. Why don't you wait until after the ultrasound? That way you'll be able to answer the questions they will inevitably have, like what the due date will be."

He mirrored a more pleasant face, "That's reasonable. Do you think you'll do the same?"

You dropped your head and groaned, "I don't know. I love my parents, but I really don't expect a good response from them. And they will hold a grudge..."

Jimin ran his hand through your hair and stared at the ceiling, "I guess I better get ready to meet them, and you should get ready to meet mine."

Your eyes snapped back up, filled with apprehension, "What? H-How soon?"

"I don't know. But again, let's just take it one day at a time sweetheart. This week, all you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, hm?"

You re-centered your nerves and nodded, leaning your forehead against his, "And remembering to call you after the ultrasound."

He broke into a chuckle and tilted his chin upward so he could lock his lips with yours.

"Yes, that too."

Then the alarm on his phone went off. He had set it so that he wouldn't get carried away with holding you and run late for the airport. Both of you sighed. It was time to get up off this couch and say goodbye. You had to leave so he could catch his ride. For the sake of keeping the relationship under wraps, you couldn't exit at the same time. Jimin gave you one last hug by the door.

"Fly safely," you told him, "Have fun. I'm excited to hear about it when you get back."

He grinned, "I will. Keep drinking plenty of water and eat well."

He then released you from the hug and placed his hands on your tummy, "And have a nice time seeing our little...pomegranate seed?"

You giggled, "Good memory. I'll send you whatever photos I get."

You were pulled in for a series of heartfelt, slow kisses. Feeling so close to him made all of the fears seem smaller, even if it was just for a minuscule amount of time. Both of you knew to your cores that your lives would never be the same again, but your strengthening bond made it bearable.

“I love you, Jimin.”

“I love you too.”

It was finally ‘Ultrasound Day’. Your appointment was at two-thirty, and you were filled with the jitters.

So far, no one in the office seemed to notice any of your symptoms. You’d been caught once or twice in the middle of a nausea spell, but were able to chalk it up to stress.

By the time to leave rolled around, you had been collaborating with Chaeyoung, comparing her fashion sketches with your swatch ideas. The goal was to identify some actual outfits that the team would then work towards replicating with various designers. The only thing standing between mere ideas and reality would soon be the finalization of the budget.

When you told your co-worker that you had to head off to another doctor's appointment, she seemed a little confused. You had just gone to one, two weeks prior. You made the excuse that it was only a routine follow-up to the one before. On your way out of the office, you wondered when you'd let them all know. Your belly was going to grow, whether you liked it or not.

You got in your car and put in the directions on your phone. You were going to a different hospital to see an obstetrician recommended by Doctor Baek. According to her, this new care provider had the capacity to give at-home ultrasounds, if you ever requested it. It was important to you to find someone who could if it meant that Jimin would be able to experience at least one of these.

When you were finally called back into the room, your hands had gone cold and clammy. A lovely nurse took down some of the basic information, took your vitals, and drew your blood to run a quick lab.

By the time the doctor came in, you were more than ready. She was in a set of navy blue scrubs with a sunshine smile, "Y/N, I'm Doctor Yoon. It's a pleasure to meet you."

You shook her hand, "Nice to meet you as well."

She sat down at the same computer where the nurse had just logged some information, looking it over, "Alright, so we're looking at about seven weeks. Your symptoms all seem totally normal. So far so good, Y/N. How are you feeling? Ready to see your baby?"

You smiled, "It's been a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. But yeah, I'm ready."

She didn't ask you if a father would be attending, assuming by your demeanor and words that you came alone. Instead, she gloved her hands and scooted closer to the exam table where you were sitting, "Okay then. Lay back there, and you can go ahead and undo your pants a little bit."

You followed her directions.

"Right, so I'm just going to put a little gel on your belly. Be warned, it's a bit cold." Her cadence was so pleasant - you were glad that you were evidently given an excellent recommendation.

The gel was cold, but it warmed up to your skin as she spread it around with the wand. You hadn't looked at the screen yet, frozen and not quite as ready as you said you were. There was a muffled sound that became more pronounced once Doctor Yoon seemed to have honed in on one spot.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

That's when you looked. It was like something in your DNA had been kicked into gear in an instant. This intuition seemed to tell you exactly what it was. The screen was mostly grey, aside from a black zone in the middle. Nestled in that black pouch was a precious little white shape. It wasn't the perfect outline of a human being. In fact, you had no idea what developed parts you were seeing. But that new and profound maternal instinct within you was filling your heart with love and protection over this tiny thing.

"There you are," Doctor Yoon smiled, "And quite a strong heartbeat for your age, little one."

You didn't realize how emotional you were getting until you blinked away a couple tears. You didn't expect anything like this. In an instant, a small yet powerful connection was made, and suddenly your outlook was crystal clear.

This was yours and Jimin’s baby. A new little life that came directly from the love you shared with one another. Yes, the road ahead was bound to be tough, but now you were certain that it was all going to be worth it. Come what may, you were going to be a family. You were joyful, excited.

You began to smile through your tears, “Hi, you…”

Doctor Yoon was glad to see your reaction, “Everything looks great here, Y/N.”

“Oh good.” you beamed, unable to tear your eyes from the image on the monitor next to you.

She made a couple of clicks with a mouse as she continued to check around for another minute or two. Then she paused the screen and removed the wand from your abdomen. The image was still up on the screen for you to enjoy while she wiped the gel from your skin.

The doctor smiled as she peeled the blue latex gloves from her hands, “The measurements look good, all aligned with what we should see at seven weeks. Based on that, I’ll give you a due date of the eighth of January.”

In your soft, enchanted haze, you thought there couldn’t be a more perfect birthday for your child.

Doctor Yoon stepped out of the office for a brief minute or two. In the meantime, you re-fastened your pants and sat up. When she returned, she had printed photos to give you, “I had a feeling you’d want these. Now your second ultrasound should fall somewhere between eighteen and twenty-two weeks. I’d highly recommend scheduling that at the front desk as you head out. Just makes it easier.”

Your happy expression faded slightly as you held the printed scans in your lap, “Oh, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to yet. The father…he travels for work often and would definitely like to be a part of the second one. We haven’t gotten to talk about any dates yet. And we’d like to possibly do it at home, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” she nodded, “I do home visits all the time. You just call whenever you get it sorted out. In the meantime, just keep pushing through the symptoms and don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions, alright?”

You smiled, “I won’t. Thank you so much, Doctor Yoon.”

“My pleasure.”

When you walked back out into the parking lot, the world looked different to you. You couldn’t stop grinning and looking at the scans.

You couldn’t wait to share it all with Jimin.

He was pacing the floor by the bed, itching for that call to come. He knew your appointment was early in the afternoon, but the sun was setting outside his hotel room and he hadn't heard from you yet.

The other guys went out to a restaurant, at which management had booked a private room, to have dinner. He stayed behind, telling them that you two had plans to FaceTime. It wasn't a lie, but he got teased mercilessly for it.

Finally, it came. His phone started buzzing, presenting a red and green button. He immediately pressed his thumb on the green button and slid it to the side, only to be greeted with the sight of you. Despite all of the not-so-fun symptoms you told him about that week, you looked radiant. It put a grin on his face to see you that way.

"Hi!" you chirped, head falling back onto the pillow on your own bed.

He chuckled, "Hey, baby. You're in a good mood, huh?"

"I am," you smiled, "How are you?"

"Good," he nodded, making himself comfortable by sitting on the all-white hotel bed against the luxe headboard, "We had Vogue today. It was a good shoot, good interview. No complaints. But don't make me talk about my day, I want to hear about the appointment."

You laughed, but then your expression settled into one of simple and pure bliss, "Jimin, I don't know how to describe it. It was quick, but one of the best moments of my life."

There was a huge relief and eagerness to know more, "Try to describe it, please. What did you see?"

The angle of your camera shifted a bit as you leaned forward, reaching for something. When it went back to normal, you were holding some photos up for him to see, "This."

It wasn't the most clear image, but it made his eyes squint with one of his largest smiles. He'd seen ultrasounds before, so he knew where to look. There was his child.

A tight sensation formed in his ribcage, but it wasn't bad - it was his heart swelling, "Oh my God, Y/N..."

"I know." you near whispered.

He experienced a rush of adrenaline, pushing his hair back only because he didn’t know what to do with himself, "Wow, that's incredible."

You were happy to see him have a similar reaction to yours, "That's not even the half of it, though. I heard the heartbeat."

Jimin could see you starting to get emotional and it made him want to leap through his phone and share this beautiful moment in person, "You did?"

You nodded, eyes brimming with tears. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, "It was just the most adorable sound, Jimin. The doctor said it was so strong for it being seven weeks."

"And everything else looks good?"

A content sigh left you as you smiled, "It's all perfect."

Now a new paternal emotion was unlocked for him - pride. He was somehow proud of his little son or daughter for having a good heartbeat and for growing so well, "That's wonderful. God, you have no idea how much I want to be with you right now. And wish I was there to witness it with you.”

“Me too,” you said, placing the printed scans on your wooden nightstand off to the side, “But I’m too excited right now to think of any downsides. It’s like all of the worries I have just evaporate when I look at those pictures. We’re really having a baby.”

Your boyfriend looked so alleviated and pleased to see you this assured. He licked his lips, “We really are, sweetheart. Did you get a due date?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “January eighth.”

“January eighth,” he repeated with a single nod, “What a great way to start the new year.”

You giggled, “That’s true. A little winter baby.”

Jimin let his head fall back and let out a long, peaceful sigh, “This trip can’t end soon enough. When I get back Sunday night, I need to see you. Will you come over?”

“I’d love that.”

“And please take a picture of one of those scans and send it to me. I want to be able to look at it after we get off the phone.”

“I will.”

He didn’t want to, but he then said, “Okay. I’ll let you go now. Go make yourself some dinner.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “How did you know I haven’t eaten yet?”

“Because I know you,” he grinned cheekily, “We’ve spent a lot of evenings together, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m aware of your nightly habits.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks, “Fine, then I’ll go make myself something. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well tonight, baby. I love you.”

You knew you’d never get bored of hearing that come out of his mouth, “I love you too.”

Your face was then removed from sight. A few seconds later, he received a text from you. Opening it, he was graced once more with the image of the sonogram. A subconscious twinkle came upon his face as he zoomed in on the tiny white form in the middle.

The room was quiet, giving his mind all the space in the world to contemplate the little one yet to come into the world. Without knowing it, he uttered the same words you did:

“Hi, you.”

#jimin x reader #bts #fanfic #jimin #park jimin #romance #bts fanfic #bts fic #jimin fluff #fluff #pregnancy #angst

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grudgecollector · 12 days ago

Text

Afterglow | Nam-gyu / American!Reader

You're reading part four

Story Summary: Nam-gyu gets a new job and finds himself falling for the girl behind the deli counter.

Words: 1.9k

Tags/Warnings: Nam-gyu and Thanos have PTSD, canon divergence, Thanos lives, heavy angst, fighting, references to past substance abuse, slight suicidal ideation

A/N: Oh boy oh boy, now this is a chapter I cooked up with the devious side of my brain.

This is a particularly heavy chapter, lots of angst, but in the next one I'll make up for it I promise (maybe ;))

Also I'd like to thank you guys again for the continued love on the Afterglow series. I wasn't expecting to do this many chapters, but I love them.......

MASTERLIST | Mini playlist to fit the chapter

October thirty-first, Halloween, one of the most anticipated holidays for kids and adults alike. You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the idea of being able to celebrate with Nam-gyu. It made you feel like a kid all over again, happily trying to plan out costume ideas, helping decorate his apartment a little bit. You were trying hard not to go overboard with your excitement.

Since Halloween wasn’t as popular in South Korea as it was in the United States, you wanted to make sure that you could give both him and Su-bong an authentic experience. Candy, costumes, make-up, scary movies. Even parties, which you were never fully privy to in the past, but willed yourself to make an exception this time around.

You jiggled your spare key a little in the lock of Nam-gyu and Su-bong's apartment, wiping your feet on the welcome mat outside before removing your shoes. Your umbrella was still dripping on the concrete just outside the door, you silently hoped to yourself that nobody would take it while you were inside.

Su-bong was sitting on the couch twirling a finger through his fresh hot pink hair, fingertips still stained in the dye. He was watching one of his many guilty pleasure shows at a low volume. His brows were knit together in what seemed to be concentration, and something a little more.

“Hey, Su-bong.” You greeted with a smile, setting down a few of the things you had brought for tonight.

His head snapped over to look at you, “Oh hey, didn’t hear you come in.” His own smile faltered a little, it was distant, the usual happy spark in his eyes replaced with something a lot more unrecognizable.

“I think Nam-gyu’s still asleep.” He answered your unspoken question flatly. His usual teasing and friendly demeanor shut away.

Strange…

All you could do was nod. Your eyes stayed on him for a beat longer than usual before you made your way down the short hallway to your boyfriend’s room.

You carefully grasped the knob to his door and opened it slowly, not wanting to accidentally wake him up. There was a faint smell of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air. His room was almost pitch black if it wasn’t for the little bit of light let in by the open door.

Right on the bed was the outline of your boyfriend underneath the covers. His weighted blanket was pulled tight around his shoulder as he laid on his side, breaths coming out in slow quiet snores.

Worry tugged at your heart, it was four in the afternoon, usually he never slept this long.

You passed the threshold of his doorway, closing the door quietly behind you. A part of you didn’t want to disturb him, deep in your stomach you know you should just leave him be. But you just couldn’t, not with the thorny feeling of curiosity jabbing itself into your side.

“Nam-gyu.” You whispered softly, a gentle hand settling itself on his covered shoulder. “Honey it’s really late, you should probably wake up.”

He woke up with a startled gasp, his body going completely rigid underneath his sheets. You could hear his quickened breaths against his pillow, a tell-tale sign you recognized all too quickly. You were quick to press the switch to the lamp on his nightstand, his room being cast in a soft yellow light.

There in the bed lay your boyfriend, a trembling man under a heap of blankets. He glanced over his shoulder with worried eyes, tears already brimming. Almost a year with him and you had never seen him so utterly terrified.

Your name fell from his wobbly lips, trapped within a choked sob, he looked like a scared child seeking comfort.

You wasted no time making your way to your usual spot on the bed, sliding underneath the heavy sheets and bringing him into your chest.

The sobs he released into your shirt were raw with emotion, as if they were being torn from his body unwillingly. You didn’t care that his tears and snot were seeping through the fabric and onto your chest.

He was shaking like a leaf in your arms, hiccuping sobs forcing his fingers to grip tighter around the back of your shirt.

~~~

Su-bong clenched his jaw at the sound of Nam-gyu’s sobs. A part of him wanted to storm into his friends room and tell you to leave, that he would handle things himself. But he couldn’t… He wouldn’t do that to either of you.

You were the closest thing to normalcy Nam-gyu has had in his life since the games. Su-bong knew that more than anyone ever would.

He watched for two years as his friend dragged his body through life pathetically. Picking at his arms every now and then as the itch, the urge, that unmatchable craving started to eat at him as he was consumed by his ever present thoughts.

And once you came along, the dust finally seemed to settle. It was like watching his friend be built back into the man he met, while he wasn’t as selfish or as snide as he used to be, he finally found his smile again. His laugh no longer sounded forced.

He was finally happy.

Su-bong would be lying to himself if he said that you being around was a comfort for him too. After the things both Nam-gyu and him did back in South Korea, they both needed that reminder that innocent minds such as yours were to be cherished. Those genuine smiles and laughs, clueless to the true horrors in the world.

Nam-gyu was always so distant around the anniversary of the games. Shut off from the world, sleeping away the day just so he didn’t slip back into old habits. He always looked so hollow when he would finally show his face, dark bags under his puffy eyes, hair a mess, wearing the same exact clothes that he had been wearing four days before.

A sigh fell from Su-bong’s lips as he noticed the cries of his friend finally started to quiet down, occasional choked sobs drifting through the thin walls.

Su-bong knew that if you were going to continue being in a relationship with Nam-gyu, you had to at least be given a half truth eventually.

Given a glimpse of the extent of Nam-gyu’s gruesome, tormenting, past.

~~~

Nam-gyu felt so pathetic. His eyelids clenched so tight he was almost scared his eyes would pop in their sockets. He tried his best to will his tears away, the sobs subsiding into pitiful whimpers and sniffles.

“I’m sorry… Fuck… I-” He was quick to push himself away from you, albeit a little harsher than he intended. Sitting up quickly and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I…”

He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, his mind twisting and spinning so rapidly. Nam-gyu brought his hands up to his face, dragging his blunt nails along the skin of his raw cheeks. He hoped that the brief bite of pain would bring him some sort of relief.

God his fucking hands… If only they could stop shaking for just a second.

Nam-gyu could feel your eyes boring into his back. He couldn’t bring himself to look over his shoulder at you. Your sweet, caring, beautiful face. It made his gut twist in a sickening way when a sudden gory image flashed in his head, an image of you in the games, dying in front of him.

“I need to go.” He suddenly breathed out, rushing towards the door before you could even think to reach out for him.

The world felt like it was spinning around him as he rushed to grab his jacket, slipping on one shoe at a time.

His mind was on one thing and one thing only.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going Nam-gyu?” Su-bong hissed, cutting through his friend’s tunnel vision.

It wasn’t an actual question, Su-bong knew exactly what Nam-gyu was planning to do. To search for that glorious hit that could make him forget everything that tormented his fragile mind.

“Dude… You can’t do this shit. Not today.”

He snatched the keys from his trembling friend’s other hand, throwing them all the way into the kitchen, completely out of reach.

“Su-bong…” Nam-gyu whispered his friend's name in warning, eyes glued to the wooden floor of their living room.

“Your fucking girl is here bro… Do not do this shit.” An accusatory finger was jabbed lightly into Nam-gyu’s chest, “You can shut me out all you fucking want, but not her.”

A tornado of emotions swirled recklessly inside of Nam-gyu. Right now all he wanted to do was forget, to wash all of his guilt away with one simple hit. That’s all he wanted. His heart was racing so fast in his chest, and his ears were ringing so loud he could barely concentrate anymore.

“Sit down and smoke some weed or some shit, but we both swore that other shit off years ago, together. You can’t go sliding back on me now.”

Nam-gyu’s hands tightened at his sides, body flushed.

Their eyes, their faces, everything was burned so brightly behind his eyelids.

“I can’t do this anymore!” He finally shouted, making Su-bong flinch a little, “I’m so fucking tired! I just- I can’t… FUCK!”

~~~

There was the sound of shattering glass in the hallway, so sharp and loud as you stared at Nam-gyu’s door. Still in shock from his sudden departure, seemingly running away from his deep seated emotions.

You threw back the covers hastily, ripping open his door and finding both boys fighting, yelling at each other in a way you had never seen them before.

A picture frame was lying broken on the floor next to the front door, glass spread throughout the living room floor. Su-bong’s foot came dangerously close to one of the shards as Nam-gyu continued to jab his finger into his friend’s chest.

“It has been so fucking easy for you! You don’t even act like it fucks with your head like it does mine!” Nam-gyu screamed at him, angry tears running down his cheeks.

Su-bong couldn’t help but scoff, pushing against your boyfriend’s shoulder to force him to back up, “You don’t think it’s been hard on me?! Why do you think I go out so often?!” He pushed again, “I can’t stand being here by myself! I can’t get that shit out of my head! So I drown it out by going to clubs and bars!” Another push, “Don’t you think I wanna go out and get so fucked up out of my mind, do something I’ll really fucking regret?!”

This time it was Nam-gyu who pushed him back, much harder than Su-bong had done to him, “Don’t fucking touch me again.” His voice was cold, bordering emotionless if it wasn’t for the slight tremble in his words.

It broke your heart to see him like this. There was so much pain built up inside of him, all you wanted to do was grab his hand and usher him back into his bedroom. Hold him until he calmed down again.

But you knew that wouldn't be possible, not with how fired up he was now. You felt hopeless, unsure how you should act under situations like this.

You had been shaken out of your thoughts finally when Nam-gyu's hand grasped the doorknob firmly, "I'm going outside for a smoke. I gotta cool off." His gaze barely flickered past your shoes when he glanced towards the hallway. "I'll be back in a bit."

#sorry lol #squid game #nam gyu #player 124 #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game reader insert #nam gyu x reader #nam gyu reader insert #nam gyu x you #violet writes

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bluestarlett · 3 months ago

Text

Hey! So, uh...

One of my family members used to work for this old animation studio, I'm pretty sure it was called, like Calamity Animations, or something?

But anyway, the studio closed down maybe in the early 2010s, and the family member who used to work there has this big box of old concept sheets and storyboards, and I found a pretty neat one!

Seems like the show was called something like, "Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium"? It kind of looks like a Ruby Gloom knockoff at first glance- which is probably why it never aired.

The main character is this little devil girl, and I'm not all too sure what her name is, since in some of the concept sketches and scripts she's referred to as Soul, and other times she's referred to as Atlas. She's also got a chicken named Scarell, which I'm pretty sure is just a dumb play on the name Darell.

She seems pretty adventurous from what I can tell but she's always having to deal with her sister and brother getting into some kind of problem.

I think these are her siblings, Heart and Mind? But sometimes they're called Artem and Polly, which I guess is a play on Artemis and Apollo. Afaik they're always bickering and annoying Soul (or Atlas?) with their arguing. Seems like the plot of every episode is that Soul has to find some way to get the two to make up and usually it works, until the very next episode where they have another petty fight. As someone who grew up with siblings, its honestly funny asf.

And then there's... this guy?

He's called the Showhost or Storyteller a lot, so I guess he is this 'Chonny' dude in the title? What's weird about him is that in all of the storyboards, his face is always cut off by the screen, kind of like Ms. Bellum from PPG. There's not really much said about him, he's kinda just a weirdly cryptic and out of place character for a kids show.

Apparently, there are still a few files of early episodes out there somewhere and I think even a physical copy, but we couldn't find any in the box that my aunt (the one who worked at the animation studio) brought home, so we're guessing someone else is in possession of them. So, hey, if anyone out there knows anything about this show, you should hmu! It seems cute and I honestly want to know the story behind it.

Bye for now!

#chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash #cj mind #cj soul #cj heart #cccc mind #cj whole #fake lost media #reblogs > likes #Blueartletts

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 2 years ago

Text

Another Classic Rock Fan

masterlist

summary : a broken jukebox leads dean to a woman who’s so much like him that she sweeps him off his feet.

pairing : (earlier seasons) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, sexual themes (?)

word count : 1.7k

warnings: language, implied sex/nudity, violence

gif source

“Son of a bitch!” You muttered, hitting the side of the jukebox, as if that would suddenly fix the (clearly half-a-century-old) machine in front of you.

“I tried that ten minutes ago sweetheart, it doesn’t do much,” A man’s voice said behind you.

“Well, maybe you didn't hit it right!” You exclaimed, hitting it again but in a different spot.

“What song are you trying to play?” He asked.

“AC/DC, You Shook Me All Night Long. And, before you say anything; if you want a shot at getting in my pants tonight don’t you dare disrespect that band,” You replied before you finally turned around to look at the man. “Or any of the classics, while you're at it.” He was taller than you, with brown hair and light brown eyes that stared down at you. The room was dark, but you could see a smirk form on his full lips when he saw your face.

“Hey, I wouldn’t dream of it!” He held up his hands in defense. “I’m an AC/DC fan myself.”

“Favorite song?” You quizzed, narrowing your gaze.

“Trick question, they’re all great,” He shrugged a little.

“Correct,” You nodded. “List some songs though.”

“Thunderstruck, Sin City, Girls Got Rhythm, Let There Be Rock; should I keep going?”

“No, I believe you're a fan,” You laughed, letting your guard down a little.

“So baby,” He smirked, “what’s the going price?”

Your smile disappeared and you stared daggers at him. “Go to hell!” You exclaimed before you brushed past him, intentionally bumping into his shoulder as you did so.

“Wait- That’s- Shit,” He stuttered, regretting what he said.

You turned around, a childish smile now on your face as you looked up at him; “Shot Down In Flames, nice job. You really thought I didn’t get the reference?”

“I really thought,” He laughed lightly. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” You turned back around and he followed you to the counter. You could feel him staring down at your ass and you smirked a little; you wore your jeans that accented that feature for a reason.

“I’m Dean, by the way,” He smiled when the two of you sat down. “What’re you drinking?”

“I’m Y/n, and just a beer’s fine.”

“So, is there a reason you’re alone at a bar on a Thursday night?” He asked, motioning the bartender toward you. He then ordered two beers.

“I’m in town for work, don’t really know anyone here,” You shrugged and took a sip of the beer.

“Me too, actually,” Dean responded.

“Really? What kinda work?”

“Law enforcement.”

“Would not take you for a cop,” You nodded in response.

“So, who got you into AC/DC?” He asked, wanting to change the subject.

“My mom traveled for work so my little sister and I were stuck in the car a lot. My mom loved classic rock. It’s all she ever played for us, really.”

“No way! My dad was the same way! Traveled for work, loved the classics, played ‘em for me and my little brother all the time!” He exclaimed, both of you smiling widely.

The two of you talked about nothing in particular for another twenty or so minutes, Dean making the occasional flirty joke about taking you to his motel room.

“Oh my god!” Sam exclaimed, covering his eyes in a hurry.

“Sam, what the hell! Knock!” Dean huffed back as you hurried to cover yourself with the sheets. Dean stood up, still wearing boxers, and you sat up in the bed.

“Wait, you’re Sam?” You furrowed your brows. “And you’re Dean. The Impala in the parking lot…shit. You’re not- You’re not the Winchesters, right?”

“How’d you know that?” Dean asked.

You covered your face with your hands and groaned; “Oh my god! You must be working the case here! The four women drained of blood?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Dean repeated, his voice now raised a little.

“Calm down, I’m a hunter,” You sighed. “I’m here working the case too, it’s clearly a vampire!”

“You’re a hunter?” Dean affirmed.

“What, you didn’t see the anti-possession tattoo?”

“No, I definitely did,” He smirked.

You looked up at him, a smirk finding its way onto your lips as well. You stood up, holding the sheet like a towel wrapped around you. “So, why don’t we work the case together?” You said, placing an open hand on his heaving chest.

He took your face in his hands and replied, “Of course,” before he kissed you.

Sam cleared his throat obnoxiously before he exclaimed; “Four dead bodies? Possible vampire nest? Impending doom? Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Sammy-” Dean started.

“Come back in about fifteen minutes, okay?” You told the taller man and then kissed Dean again. Sam got out of the room in a hurry so as not to see what the quickly escalating situation would become.

“I’m Agent Jovi, this is my partner Agent Sambora,” Sam and Dean flashed their badges as you did the same.

“And I’m Agent Paula Stanley,” You added to Dean’s introduction. Dean looked at you as if with awe as you simply continued with the conversation. “Could you take us to the bodies, please?”

“Right this way,” The doctor replied. You followed him to the morgue, Dean’s eyes glued to your ass as you walked away.

“Dean?” Sam interrupted his train of thought.

“What?” Dean exclaimed, clearly out of sorts and still very distracted.

“God, you are a mess!” Sam joked, Dean just looked at him with confusion. “C’mon, you’re practically drooling over this girl!” He laughed lightly.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Well, she- She’s just-” Dean scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Dude, it’s okay. Just, ask her out after the case, please? We’ve got lives to save,” He patted Dean’s shoulder before they both walked into the morgue as the doctor walked out.

“Hey, does this girl look familiar?” You scrunched your eyebrows and looked at the newest vampire kill; the fifth vampire kill.

“No, does she look familiar to you?” Sam asked. He took a look at the toe tag, “Silvia Mortenson?”

“Oh my god, she was at the bar last night! I’m sure of it!”

“Did you see her leave with anyone?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, uh this man; he struck out with me,” You inhaled sharply, “so he went to talk to her.”

“That’s when you went for the jukebox,” Dean nodded.

“Yeah- Wait, were you watching me?” You questioned, a slight teasing tone in your voice.

“I may have had my eyes on the ridiculously hot woman in the Kiss tank top,” He smirked.

“So, we know who it is. Now what, we watch him, see who he leaves with, and follow them?” Sam interrupted.

“Or, we do the smart thing,” You shrugged. The brothers looked at you with confusion. “Use me as bait, duh! I lure him out, let him take me to the nest, you two follow me and we take them down from the inside.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean shook his head. “That’s not happening.”

“Why not?” You asked.

“Uh, where do I start?” Dean scoffed. You slightly tilted your head, confused. “It’s way too dangerous! You could die!”

“We’re hunters, Dean; danger and death are kinda in the job description.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Dean trailed off, trying to think of a way to keep you out of immediate danger.

“Yep, we’re doing this,” You nodded.

“I’d like to take you up on that drink now,” You smirked, sitting next to the vampire. He had offered to buy you a beer the previous night, but you turned him down.

“What, you're not leaving with Leather Jacket again?” He replied, gesturing to Dean, who sat at the other end of the bar.

“Well, I’m not one to kiss and tell, but let’s just say I want a real man to rock my world tonight.”

He led you back to his motel where four other vampires were waiting. Sam and Dean rushed in after you, but you had already beheaded two of them. Sam got one, while Dean got the other. You walked up to the last one, the one you had followed here.

“And just so we’re clear, this man,” You pointed at Dean, keeping the machete in your hand ready, “is amazing in bed!” And you chopped the vamp’s head off. You turned to Sam and Dean, all three of you splattered with blood. “What?” You asked, seeing the shocked and confused looks on their faces.

“Gotta say, that’s the craziest way a woman has ever complimented me,” Dean smirked.

“Just setting the record straight,” You shrugged, smiling.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sam exclaimed when Dean walked into the room.

“I’m here to pack up before we hit the road?” He furrowed his brows before Sam rolled his eyes.

“So where’s Y/n, then?”

“She’s got her own room, second floor, why?”

“Did you get her number?”

“No…?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Can you just get to the fuckin’ point?”

“Go ask her out before she leaves!” Sam exclaimed, seeing the gears in Dean’s head slowly turning before he left the room.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean said, standing outside your motel room.

“Sure,” You shrugged a little. You opened the door further so he could go inside.

“Why’d you say that? To the vampire, I mean.”

“About you being good in bed?” He nodded. “Well, when I was flirting with him at the bar I had to lie and say you weren’t good in bed, so I figured I’d set the record straight before killing him.”

“Oh!” He let out a bit of a laugh. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Can I ask you something?” You asked. “What are you doing here? I thought the famous Dean Winchester was all about lovin’ and leavin’.”

“That’s what I’m famous for?”

“Well, that and you know, all the incredible hunter stuff.”

“I- I’m here to ask for your number.”

“Hunter phone, or personal?” You asked. (It was pretty common for hunters to have at least two phones - one for hunter contacts and one for friends/family.)

“Personal, is what I was hoping for.”

“Okay,” You smiled.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #spn fanfic #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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uhohbestie · 3 months ago

Note

Hey y’all, I’ve been really wanting to do some fanart for TAMN (because it’s absolutely fantastic) and was wondering if y’all had any ref sheets for how you depict y’all’s versions of the characters? Thank ya!

We do! I really should make an official post or something so they're more accessible, but we never actually thought anyone would draw for TAMN so these are incredibly sketchy as they were only ever meant them for me and Key to look at OOPS.

One day I'll redraw them properly, and I'd like to add the entire Life Series survivor compound too! But in the meantime:

Here they are! With a few notes from me:

Grian's outfit has organically evolved along with the fanart produced by the community, because their interpretations inspired me, etc. etc. He originally was wearing a bulletproof vest, which most often gets drawn as a sweater-vest or a more tactical/fishing vest, which I think I like more. He also wears a hiking compass around his neck:

Because that's what I learned to navigate with, and therefore it's all I know! Scar's outfit remains basically 1:1 his The Crafting Dead series outfit, just with the addition of it specifically being a Top Gun-style aviator jacket with all the patches on top.

The general vibe of the AU is one of warm browns and desert-y tans, so KSQ are very de-saturated compared to their canon designs in order to fit in with the world. Pops was the very first TAMN drawing I ever did (technically he's the main character of the au!), and he's considerably more geared up in the fic, but under all his layers and winter gear he's definitely still got a Marineland sweater on.

I started a big reference sheet for the Compound, but then Key and I got swamped with finishing the fic and editing. Maybe now that it's all queued up I can get back to it, though! >:D - 🔒

#TAMN asks #anonymous

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cer-rata · 8 months ago

Text

I did it, I finished the fic.

Cover by the amazing @nicodrawings

It's 109k and fully complete, welcome to my oc's first cursed, sappy adventure.

"Heart of Gotham"

Fandom: Detective Comics

Rating: T M

Summary:

Conrad Bishop thinks he knows who he is: A nerd, a goof, a coward. But heartbreak comes along to destroy that version of him. As he shatters, an alien ring decides that the depth of his pain has the potential to forge him into a potent Star Sapphire. While grief may be a devastatingly powerful form of love, can he survive on it alone? Maybe not. But it’s what he thinks deserves.

Everyone thinks they know who Damian Wayne is: A prince, a pariah, a hero. The truth is worse. No one thinks he’s easy to love, and he agrees. It’s fine. He doesn’t need it, he’s got duty and a body to spend in service of it until there’s nothing left to hate. But sometimes? Sometimes he wonders if that’s all he can be.

By chance they share the same science class, and--for better or worse--that's all it takes to send them on a path that neither of them would have ever dared to consider.

Love conquers all.

...Maybe

Excerpt:

Damian started changing out of his uniform and Conrad awkwardly looked away. He cleared his throat. “Hey, so, I’ve been thinking…”

“Hmm?” Damian grunted as he unclasped and slid his tunic off.

“Well, you used the ring to save me, right? But you know...the whole bit is that if you want to heal someone you have to…uh. You'd…you'd have to love--"

“Philia.” Damian cut in quickly.

“Did…did you--was that a slur?”

“…No! Philia is the Greek concept of love between friends. That’s what the ring was pulling from.” It was mostly true. It was mostly philia. Mostly.

Conrad considered that for a moment, then beamed. “Oh. Oh! So you admit it? You think we’re friends?”

Damian finished pulling a hoodie on and turned to squint at him. “How are you this stupid.”

“Oh my god you do!”

“If you’re like this for the entire ride back, there is a high likelihood that I will change my--oh come on!” Damian complained fruitlessly as he had to endure yet another hug. “I should have let you bleed out.” He hissed, and Conrad just laughed.

“I love you too, buddy.”

A tip of the hat:

Before I get into anything else, again the cover and reference sheet were done by the amazing @nicodrawings. She's terrific, professional, easy to work with (and I am ANNOYING), and I think the quality speaks for itself. Her art is tremendous and her covers are maybe the highest quality I've seen from an indie artist.

And those colors.

Her commissions are open right now and she's making a fan comic that looks so cool, and she does all this other cool stuff. Check her out, okay?

Concepts, Themes, and Character Focus

The core questions I wanted to ask were:

"Can two broken people ever be good for each other?"

"Can you actually move past the pain of loss?"

"How do you love someone?"

I love Lantern lore, and Star Sapphires specifically. Maybe too much

I was fascinated by a Corps that represented love but was usually fueled by despair and anguish instead, and wielded one of the harder to control colors of the Emotional Spectrum. So I decided to create one from scratch and place them in Earth's most notorious tragedy factory: Gotham City.

Conrad is shamelessly emotional and ruled by his affections, and was like that even before the ring. The only son of a pair of Haitian immigrants, Conrad grew up feeling very loved, and even his parents terrible handling of his attempt to come out wasn't enough to shake that. But his parents never really pushed him, and his easy-going nature meant he didn't develop a lot of self determination. Then he suffers an incredibly traumatizing loss, and suddenly his carefully laid carpet of normalcy and avoidance is torn up to reveal some structural problems underneath.

Damian is emotional and ruled by his affections, and is a little ashamed of it. He also felt loved when he was growing up, but unlike Conrad, much of the love he received was in the form of praise for his success, which had the unfortunate effect of making him seek approval in ways that were often unhelpful, most often to himself. He's tried so hard, and done so much work to be a better person, and he's even accumulated a group of peers who adore him. But he's still lonely, has trouble accepting his own progress, and the guilt he carries making new connections difficult.

Everyone is a couple of years older than they are in canon, which I did to make the content more appropriate, and also so I could play with the ambiguity of those three undocumented years, and hand wave away some of the more...uncharitable parts of canon without having to rewrite everything. This is Damian still on his early Rebirth character track, before the many resets to his character development. He's still harsh and somewhat antisocial, but he's also older, more mellow, and has worked through a couple of things. He's settled enough to allow for some honest introspection.

I didn't initially plan for this to be a love story, but their internal conflicts were complimentary and their deepest wishes slotted together so neatly that the direction felt natural. They cover many of each other's weaknesses and blind spots, while making some of their other hangups worse.

The romance isn't even the critical part really, it's just the way they end up expressing emotional intimacy. They are friends first, and that's what holds everything together. It's all about them showing up for each other in ways that are sometimes difficult, and the fact that they always will, regardless of whether they're in a relationship or not.

It's an awkward, intense, teen relationship, and it's not always a good thing for either of them--even before factoring in cosmic super weapons and secret identities.

Also, there are... a lot of cameos and odd side characters.

#dc comics #dc fic #damian wayne #dc oc #original characters #batfamily #green lantern comics #star sapphire #star sapphire oc #my fics #tkaa au #green lantern #batman #conrad bishop #heart of gotham

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hayakawalove · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet As Sugar

Description: You had been Satoru’s sugar baby for what felt like forever now, so what were you supposed to do when he left you home alone with nothing to entertain yourself? (PART ONE OF MY “Sugar” SERIES)

TW: Daddy kink, reader is referred to as girl, unprotected sex, spit, alcohol mention, readers kind of annoying and a brat LMAO, exhibitionism, voyeurism, readers referred to as a slut once, cumming inside, major cucking, phone sex

A/N: Thank you to @icepopbucky23 for uttering the words sugar daddy gojo to me and @JuicyT for helping me flesh out ideas on Archive of Our Own and @zeninsama for helping me think of things for this fic! They are all super wonderful people, so please check out their work as well!

Part Two

Part Three

Banner credit to @benkeibear

“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” You complained loudly.

You were sitting on Satoru’s California king size bed, the name very apt. The high thread count sheets underneath the palms of your hands kissed your skin, beckoning you to cozy up with a blanket.

“I’m sure you can find something to do, hm?” Satoru responded as he packed his suitcase.

He was going on a trip for the week. Ever since you started seeing him, you hadn’t spent a week alone. What did he expect you to do while he was gone?

Your eyebrows furrowed up in frustration as you crossed your arms. You complained more since your arrangement with Satoru started, but in a way he was the one enabling it. He couldn’t help but love it when you got riled up. Satoru turned around and smiled at you. Your bottom lip jutted out, making for a kissable pout. He stopped what he was doing and walked up to you, leaning down with his arms on either sides of you, caging you in.

“Why don’t I send your allowance early? That should keep you nice and busy while I’m gone.” He cooed down at you, pinching your cheek.

You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand away. Getting your money early would keep your hands full, you thought.

~~~

Except, both of you were wrong. You blew through most of your allowance the first couple of days Satoru was gone. Having spent it on ornate jewelry and purses. You only ever used one at a time, but you bought them just because you could. Your favorite thing you purchased was a black lingerie set. It was silky smooth, save for the lace that decorated it. You knew Satoru was going to absolutely love it, maybe even give you a raise. The mere idea sent giddy thoughts straight to your head. You began to ponder what you would spend the money on. A vacation maybe? That could be fun.

Right as you began thinking about where you would go on your metaphorical trip, your phone rang loudly. It immediately snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned the screen over and saw Satoru’s contact pop up.

“Daddy 💗💸🤩”

You hit the big green button and slid the phone to your ear.

“Hey daddy.” You answered with a smile, turning to lay on your stomach.

“Hey, how’s my princess doing?” He questioned.

Satoru was on a business trip, so you were surprised he had the time to call you.

“I’m good, although I already spent all my allowance.” You pouted while playing with your hair.

“That’s too bad bunny, why don’t you be a good girl for me and take some pretty pictures?”

You smiled devilishly, looking to the high end lingerie brand bag. Sending photos of yourself in that was sure to drive him crazy. He always hated looking but not touching.

You bid farewell to each other before hanging up. Jumping up to your feet you shimmied off your cozy night gown and picked up the bag. It was slightly hard to put on at first, but you were able to figure it out after 10 minutes. The fabric flaunted your favorite parts of your body. It was perfect. You walked over to your full length mirror and posed in it as you took pictures. The make up you wore complemented the lingerie, you could only dream of what Satoru’s reaction would be to these pictures. With a sigh you hit send on his contact. You decided to take a bubble bath as you waited for his response.

You hummed to yourself as your body soaked in the lavish bubble bath. Just as you felt your muscles relax into utter bliss you heard your phone chime. Flipping it over you noticed a notification from Satoru. With a grin you opened it up, already knowing what would greet your eyes. A picture popped up on the screen. One that sent all the heat rushing to between your thighs.

Satoru’s body filled up your screen. He stood in front of the hotel mirror with his shirt pulled up. The fabric was held taut between his lips, lips you so desperately wanted between your legs. Your eyes trailed down the plane of his chest all the way to his waist. In one of his hands he held his cock. By the way it shined you could tell precum was dribbling from the tip. It made your mouth water.

A message popped up below the picture.

See what you do to me bunny?

Your legs squirmed and clenched beneath the now-lukewarm-water. Your fingers traveled below your navel and reached your core. A moan escaped your lips as you began tracing your mound. You could feel the slickness from your heat coating your fingers. The feeling only turned you on even more. However, it wasn’t enough. It never was.

You craved the stretch only Satoru could provide. His lithe fingers, or his wide cock. It didn’t matter to you, but you needed him. Your fingers attempted at pleasuring you, but it only caused further frustration. With a exasperated sigh you texted Satoru back.

It’s looks so good daddy. Wish you were here. I can’t get myself off.

I need cock.

You typed out the messages languidly. There was nothing he could do about it anyway, short of hopping on the next flight. You don’t know why you even bothered.

Your phone chimed as you got a response from Satoru.

Need cock?

Be patient bunny. You’ll get what you need.

The cryptic messages only angered you more. Couldn’t he see that you were suffering without him?

You sat in the bath for another 15 minutes, mind drifting off into a relaxed state. You were half dreaming when you heard the buzzer to your apartment go off.

Your eyebrow quirked up as you shot up in the bath. You weren’t expecting anyone. It was after 9 o clock, so you had no idea what kind of surprise guest it might be.

You hopped out of the bath and grabbed your pink silk robe, tying it loosely around your figure. Your hair dripped cold water around your face, causing a shiver to run up your spine. Looking through the peephole you saw a man, one who couldn’t be much older than you. He had long black hair that was tied up in a bun, and wore semi formal attire. He donned a long sleeved black button up shirt and black pants. He was attractive, you thought.

Alarm bells aside, you decided to open the door.

“Yes?” You asked, peeking your head out.

The man turned his head to look at you face on. He was even more breath taking than you had realized. His eyes were sharp, and he had nice full lips.

“Y/N?” His deep voice rang.

“Satoru sent me. I’m Suguru.”

Your eyes flitted down then back up, assessing his body language. He came off as nonthreatening, but your guard was still up. Before you could further question him, Suguru pulled out his sleek phone and pressed a couple of buttons before handing it to you. Satoru’s name was shown on the screen as it appeared to be ringing him.

“Hey man, what’s up? Did you find her place okay?” You heard Satoru speak from the other end.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. He really had sent this stranger to your house. But why?

“Satoru, why did you send this…guy to my house?” You spoke in a hushed tone into the phone, turning your head slightly to give you privacy. Suguru just watched with an amused glint in his eye.

“Aw bunny, you said you needed me right? Well I can’t be there right now, so I sent you the next best thing.”

“What’re you even talking about?”

“You want to be fucked don’t you?”

Goosebumps crawled over your skin. That was true, but you meant by Satoru, not a stranger.

“How does $5000 sound?” Satoru asked, noting your silence.

You raised your eyebrows at the amount. He was going to pay you to have sex with his friend?

“That sounds good daddy.” You murmured, playing with your hair.

The more you looked at the man, the more attractive he became. He had a similar build to Satoru, but where Satoru’s features and energy were light, this man felt dark and mysterious.

“Just record the whole thing and send it to me afterward, how does that sound princess?”

You nodded even though Satoru couldn’t see you.

“That’s my girl.” He said before hanging up.

Your cheeks flushed as you handed Suguru’s phone back. He took it from your hand and slid it in his pocket. Without another word you silently stepped to the side, allowing him entrance into your apartment. Suguru looked down at you, grinning and running his tongue along the side of his teeth. A shiver ran up your body as he passed you. His cologne instantly filled your nose. It was a faint spicey scent that made your knees weak.

After he entered your apartment, you closed the door behind him. Nerves were beginning to rumble in your stomach. You hadn’t had sex with someone besides Satoru in two years. Suguru walked in and surveyed the place, choosing to lean against your table. You cleared your throat trying to shake your nerves.

“What’s your drink of choice?” You asked him, making your way to the kitchen.

“Whiskey.” He called out.

Luckily for you, Satoru had gotten you an expensive bottle a couple of weeks ago. It had sat in your cabinet untouched the entire time. You never felt like it was a good time to open it, but you figured now was as good as any.

You cracked the lid open and grabbed a cup for him. The amber liquid poured into the glass, sloshing around as you walked to Suguru. He took it from you and tipped his head back, downing the liquid in one gulp. He maintained eye contact the entire time.

You fiddled with your fingers, anxiety coursing through your blood.

“Um, follow me?” Your voice shook slightly.

You led him to your bedroom. It seemed like he was letting you take the lead in conversation and pace.

Once you got to the room you grabbed your phone and slid open the camera, hitting record. Your eyes slid over to your dresser, finding a good place to set it down in order to film what was about to happen. You bit your lip and turned around, walking to your bed and stopping short in front of it, sliding your robe off. You subconsciously held your breath, your gaze sliding away from him. You were so nervous you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“How should we, um.” You mumbled.

From the corner of your eye you saw Suguru’s eyes gaze around your body. Everytime Satoru fucked you, he didn’t know where to look. He wanted to see it all. But Suguru was taking his time, carefully assessing each inch of your exposed skin. You couldn’t tell if it made you feel sexy or self conscious.

Suguru hummed at you before taking a large step forward. You quickly snapped your head up to look at him and he grinned softly. The room was silent, save for your pounding heartbeat, which you were almost positive he could hear.

“Tell me if you want to stop, yeah?” He spoke quietly.

You nodded. Suguru’s eyes became hazy as he leaned down and tipped your chin up with his forefinger. He pressed his lips against yours. You moaned into the kiss and grabbed onto him, all your worries suddenly dissolving. There was only desire now. His tongue glided against your bottom lip, quickly parting your mouth. All thoughts from your mind became muddied as you felt him pull your naked body close against him. There was something so thrilling about being completely undressed while he wasn’t. His teeth smoothed over your lip making you moan out again.

Suguru walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit your bed. Your hands instinctively clutched his arms to stabilize you, and you felt him smirk against your lips. He began unbuttoning his shirt while you clumsily fumbled with the buttons on his pants. In a matter of seconds you felt his bare body against yours, his clothes haphazardly thrown about your room. His skin felt hot to the touch as he grabbed your waist and helped you sit down. Once he laid you down, his hands trapped you against the bed. His lips traced the sensitive skin on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Whimpers tumbled out of your mouth, ones you couldn’t decipher. He seemed to understand just what you needed.

Suguru sat next to your bed and dragged you down by your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. The movement jolted you, making you squeak out. He grinned and spread your lower lips with his pointer and middle finger, putting you on full display for him.

“Satoru was right, you really are pretty.” He mumbled before diving in.

His tongue made contact with your clit first, the sensation sending electricity through your veins. A loud moan erupted from your throat as his lips wrapped around your nub and began to suck. His tongue felt like heaven between your thighs, quickly lapping up your wetness only to create more. He slid his muscle into your aching hole and moaned at your taste. At the rate he was going, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last. Your hips began bucking against his lips, desperate for any sort of friction. Pleas fell on deaf ears. You begged him to keep going, and you begged him to stop. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. It felt good. Too good. It felt like you were going to burst at the seams. You were sure you were going to.

Suguru’s dark eyes flicked up to you, enjoying your reactions. He could tell you were inching closer to bliss, and what he wouldn’t give to see that happen.

“Come on pretty girl, give it to me.” He mumbled against your velvety skin.

You felt your stomach tighten and your core contract before you came. Your back arched as you rode out your high on his tongue. It felt like your nerves were on fire.

Your ears rang as you settled back down, breathing hard and looking up at the ceiling. Suguru was giving his best friend a run for his money. Both men were incredibly good at using their tongues, you could only imagine how good Suguru’s cock would be.

Black hair came into view as he loomed over you. His eyes dazzled as he watched your post bliss.

“Wanna taste how sweet you are?” He asked rhetorically.

Before you could respond, Suguru’s hand reached up and squished your cheeks, parting your mouth. A glob of spit escaped his lips and fell against yours. You quickly drank it like it was liquid gold. The salty taste of your cum mixed with his spit made your head spin. Your eyes silently begged for more and Suguru caved. His lips smashed against yours, taking the breath straight from your lungs. You didn’t care. You didn’t need it anymore. All you needed was him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down, desperate for more contact. He obliged and closed the gap, pressing his bare chest against yours. Suguru’s tongue slid against yours. He pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lust bitten lips.

You placed your hands on his bare chest, pushing him away from you slowly. Suguru raised a brow at you and stood up between your legs. You stared up at him as you sat up, face inches away from his hard cock. The tip was flushed pink, with beads of precum leaking from it.

You stuck out your tongue, licking the underside of his cock as it pressed against his stomach. Suguru shuddered in response. Your tongue traced the sensitive veins, memorizing the shape. You wanted to make him feel just as good as he made you feel. You traced all the way up until you reached the tip, which you eagerly took into your mouth. Suguru sharply inhaled as your warm mouth greeted his cock. It filled your mouth nicely, quickly hitting the back of your throat. It elicited a gag from you, spit dribbling down your chin. He raised one of his hands, gently placing it on your head. He helped guide you back and forth along his cock. Salty precum landed on your tastebuds, making you moan around his cock. You could stay here forever if you wanted to, but it seemed as though Suguru had other plans.

He pulled your head back, watching as a string of spit snapped back disconnecting yourself from him. His hooded hazy eyes penetrated into you as he helped crawl you back further onto the bed.

Suguru’s large frame towered over you as you lay beneath him on the bed. His cock nudged between your folds, sending a tingle down your spine. His cock began to slide back and forth between your folds. Everytime it caught on your clit you moaned into his mouth. The sound only encouraged him more. Angry red marks dotted his smooth skin as you dug your nails dug into him. Wetness coated his cock making it easier to slide against you.

Raw, you were going to fuck him raw. And the idea only excited you.

Here was this man you had met less than an hour ago, pressing his hard cock against your most intimate area.

The head of his cock parted you, splitting you open as he carefully slid inside. Your mouth dropped open at the sensation. Suguru looked up at your face as he breathed hard. He could feel your muscles squeezing around his cock. If he wasn’t careful he would cum any second.

As Suguru pushed his cock into you completely you threw your head back. He filled you up in a different way than Satoru. Not better or worse, but different. Tears pricked your eyes from the pleasure, moaning out. Suguru looked down and saw how wrecked you looked, and he hadn’t even gotten started.

“I understand what Satoru sees in you.” He said with a grunt, holding your thighs tight as he thrusted in and out.

You withered below him. All your senses felt heightened. Before you could comprehend what was happening, Suguru shoved his phone in your face. You heard a couple of rings before Satoru’s voice carried over the line.

“Bunny?” He asked, as if he was expecting it to be you.

You couldn’t speak, only moans escaped your mouth.

“I see you got to work, are you being a good girl and filming?”

“Y-Yes! Oh god.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you correctly.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Y-Yes daddy! I’m being a good girl, your good girl.” You babbled as Suguru fucked into you harder.

“Hmm, good. How does it feel?” Satoru asked.

“Good, so good.” You chanted, squeezing your eyes shut.

You felt Suguru deep inside your walls, each thrust sending a wave of euphoria over you.

“That’s good princess. Now, I want you to open your eyes and look at him while he fucks you. Think you can do that for me?”

Your eyes pried open to gaze at the man above you. His hair was much messier with bangs sticking to his forehead. He licked his lips while you stared at him.

“Say my name. Let him know who you belong to.” Satoru egged on.

Your eyebrows scrunched up. You knew better than to disobey him though.

“S-Satoru! Belong to Satoru! Holy shit, don’t stop please don’t stop!” You cried out.

Suguru’s face hardened as he pounded into you.

You could feel him as he dragged against your plush walls, stretching you to the brim. His pelvis grinded against your clit each time he pressed into you, only adding to the ecstasy. Thoughts of the camera completely escaped your mind as you only focused on what you were feeling and what was in front of you. You could hardly think, your mind shattering at how good it felt.

“Oh fuck I think I’m gonna-” you moaned.

Suguru wrapped a hand around the back of your head and held onto your hair, tilting your head forward forcing you to look down at where his hips met yours.

“Ask daddy.” Satoru spoke.

Your legs shook around Suguru. It was getting hard to hold the phone and focus.

“Please daddy let me cum, I’m gonna cum. Please daddy!” You squealed.

Satoru let out a deep laugh.

“Cum for me bunny, cum on his cock.”

You felt the dam break, your muscles clenching and unclenching against his sin. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you dripped in pleasure. Suguru let out a strangled grunt as he felt you cum on him. The sound shot straight to your pussy, immediately beginning to tingle again.

“Shit, so f-fucking tight.” Suguru cussed under his breath.

His eyebrows bunched up in concentration as he slammed harder into you. Sensitive, it all felt too sensitive. You squealed out in retaliation, or desperation, you didn’t know.

His cock drove in and out of you fast, leaving you no space to think. Satoru was still on the line listening to everything unfold. The idea sent shivers down your spine. You turned your head to look at your propped up phone, knowing it was recording every single thing that happened. Your lips parted as your mouth dropped open. Suguru was hitting some deep part inside of you that made your toes curl.

You continued to make eye contact with the camera, knowing Satoru loved when you looked at him. Suguru’s hand reached up as he nudged your face to look back at him. You were met with obsidian black eyes as he penetrated you.

“Look at me.” He whispered.

In that moment, you knew this wasn’t for the camera. You knew he wasn’t even thinking about putting on a show for his best friend. In that moment, he wanted you for himself. He stuffed his middle and ring finger into your mouth, effectively gagging you. Satoru’s fingers were longer, but Suguru’s were much, much thicker. Salvia began to pool around his digits as you choked, tears quickly filling your eyes.

“That’s it, good girl.” Suguru mumbled, tipping his head back, looking down his nose at you.

You felt so utterly full on both ends. You didn’t know where you ended and where he began. Everytime you felt like you could breathe around his fingers, he shoved them deeper down your throat. You let out a whine, one which became distorted around the thick fingers.

Suguru’s breathing became quicker and more labored, you could tell he was close. Your eyes looked up at his, begging silently for him to cum. He groaned out as heat spread through his body. Spurts of cum shot out, immediately filling you to the brim.

You breathed out heavily as Suguru slowly removed his fingers that were drenched in your spit. He maintained eye contact with you as he stuck out his tongue and trailed it along his fingers, licking up your saliva. The sight made you dizzy.

“That sounded like you had fun. Where did you cum Suguru?” Satoru’s voice broke the tense silence.

The two of you stared at each other as his cum began to leak from your hole, even though it was still plugged with his cock.

You weren’t sure if him cumming inside of you was part of the deal, but it was too late now.

“I think I have an idea.” Satoru chuckled, taking your silence as answer enough.

“I’ll send the funds over tonight Y/N. You did good.” Satoru spoke softly over Suguru’s phone.

Your cheeks heated up in pride. You always liked hearing his praise.

You passed the phone over to Suguru who grabbed it, carefully pulling his cock out of you.

The two of you hissed at the feeling. You immediately felt empty once more, craving the stretch again.

“So, where’s my reward Satoru?” Suguru asked cheekily, his eyes lingering on your leaking core.

“What, was cumming in her not enough?” Satoru responded with a light laugh.

Suguru rolled his eyes and ended the call with Satoru. He bent over and began pulling his clothes over his body, signaling the end of the night. You couldn’t stop staring at his body. It was slick with a light sheen of sweat. How had you never seen this man before? You were beginning to feel grateful towards Satoru for giving you this opportunity.

Once finished with getting dressed, Suguru walked over and leaned down to pick up your phone. He flipped it around, camera facing you and walked up to the bed.

Suguru looked into the screen and leaned down, zooming in on your pussy. Streaks of white dripped out, sliding over your skin. His eyes trailed over your body. A hint of longing passed over his face. He ended the recording and smiled as he handed over your phone.

“I can see myself out. You shouldn’t get up too soon.” Suguru said smoothly.

You nodded, at a loss for words. He dipped his head down once before exiting your room, and out your front door. It felt like everything had been a dream, ending before you could even comprehend the situation. A shaky breath escaped your mouth as you sunk down further into your bed.

~~~

You were nestled up in your plush blankets, the events of the night replaying in your mind. Your heart still pounded in your ears. You grabbed your phone and flipped through your camera roll, finger hovering over the video. Once you clicked on it, it began playing. Obscene noises filtered through your phone speaker causing your face to heat up. Satoru wanted this?

An alert pinged on your screen.

It was a phone call from Satoru. You cleared your throat and paused the video, clicking the green button.

“Hello?” You asked.

You could hear Satoru’s voice on the line. It was laced with exhaustion, with a hint of something else.

“I wanted to call before you went to sleep. How are you feeling?” He sighed out.

The two of you began talking about your day. One of your favorite things about Satoru was how easy he was to talk to. You really enjoyed his company. Your eyelids began feeling heavy, but then the conversation turned over to what happened with Suguru.

“How do you feel about it?”

Heat rushed to your core at the memory being brought up again. You liked Satoru more, but you couldn’t deny how it felt.

“It was good. Really good.” Your voice stuttered out.

You could hear Satoru chuckle on the other end. His reaction only raised your body temperature.

“Good, I watched it earlier. You looked…” Satoru drawled out. You heard him let out a deep content sigh. You couldn’t see it, but he was fumbling with his pants.

You squeezed your legs together as you began to feel throbbing between your thighs.

“Wish you were here daddy.” You mumbled.

“Oh? You truly are insatiable bunny. You still need more?”

You whimpered back.

“Go on and touch for daddy.”

The sentence alone almost made you moan. You held the phone as you shimmied your shorts down. You could still feel Suguru’s essence leaking from you.

Your fingers dragged their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You began circling it, feeling pleasure course through you.

You couldn’t help but moan. Satoru listened intently as he pulled his cock out, precum already coating the tip. Although he chided you for it, Satoru was just as insatiable as you. He already came to the video earlier. It was the hardest he had cum in a long time. So hard he had to lay there for 10 minutes until he could feel his body again. But it somehow it still wasn’t enough. He began pumping his cock as he listened to your moans.

“Feels so good daddy.” You sighed.

Satoru smiled as he stroked his cock. Images of the video flashed through his mind, particularly one scene.

“Suguru came in you, didnt he?” He questioned.

Your gut tightened at the question. He did, and Satoru knew it.

“Yes.”

Your fingers sped up as they danced along your clit.

“Smear it around baby.” Satoru ordered.

Your face flushed. You reached down to your aching hole and dipped your fingers inside, scooping out the remainder of Suguru’s cum. The feeling made you gasp out, as you rubbed the cum on your clit. The sensation made everything more wet and hot. You were using another man’s cum as lube while you listened to Satoru, and that turned you on even more.

“I’m not there to spit on it so we’ll have to make do.” Satoru groaned.

The image of his best friends cum painting your clit shot waves of pleasure through his body. He wondered how it looked, how it felt.

“Tell me bunny, who were you thinking about when he fucked you?” He questioned.

You moaned out, heat creeping up in your cheeks.

“You daddy, always you.”

Satoru chuckled and sucked in a deep breath.

“Come on baby, tell daddy the truth. Were you thinking about him? Were you thinking about Suguru?”

Your mouth dropped open, your fingers speeding up.

“Daddy he looked so good, he felt so good. Are you mad? I thought about you too, but he-” You groaned.

“You’re so naughty bunny.” Satoru lowered his voice.

“I’ll make it up to you, I’ll give you anything you want. Please don’t be mad.” You cried out, inching closer to your much needed release.

“Such a good little girl. I’m not mad baby.”

Your fingers sped up as they rubbed your clit. You knew you wouldn’t last long, especially with the way Satoru sounded.

“Go on, tell me how it felt to fuck him.” Satoru’s voice hitched.

“So good daddy. I felt so full of him. Stretched me so good. When he came inside I-” You blabbered, feeling your core tighten.

“Yeah? My good little slut. How’d it feel to have another man fill you up nice and full?” He groaned as more precum spilled from his tip.

You whimpered in response, your body overheating. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“So so nice daddy. Want him over again. Please daddy, can he come over again? Want him to fill me up while you watch.” You begged.

Satoru swore in response. His body shuttered at the thought. He could imagine you on your hands and knees in front of him as his best friend took you from the behind. Your eyes rolling back in pleasure as Suguru’s cum filled you up once more. He imagined painting your face with his cum while you were coming down from your high.

That image was all Satoru needed to send him over the edge. His cum shot in spurts all over his hand and lap, so much so that he knew the only way to clean up would be to change all of his clothes and the sheets.

“Yes, yes bunny we can do that.” He breathed out.

Hearing Satoru moan was like music to your ears. As he breathed hard you felt your body contract before sending you off into bliss. Electricity filled your body as you moaned out. As you came you felt Suguru’s cum seep down your slit and out of your pussy, coating you in it.

Your and Satoru’s heavy breathing sounded like a chorus. You never wanted this feeling to end, but luckily you knew for certain it would come again once Satoru came home.

As your thoughts drifted off and your eyes began to feel heavy, you heard your phone chime.

$5000 deposited into your bank account.

“For all your hard work today.” Satoru said with a smile.

#my writing #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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drewharrisonwriter · 5 months ago

Text

One Day at a Time - Ch. 4: Normal

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The weeks had passed in a blur of routine and quiet moments shared between you and Dave. His migraines, though still present, had become more manageable with the medication the doctors had prescribed. Life on the farm had settled into a peaceful rhythm, and with each passing day, the bond between you deepened, the connection growing stronger with every shared experience.

One evening, as you sat across from each other at the kitchen table, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the room, you decided it was time to share some exciting news.

“I got an email today,” you began, your voice casual as you took a sip of your wine.

“Oh?” Dave looked up from his plate, curiosity piqued. “What’s it about?”

You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face. “I’ve been invited to speak at a convention in DC. It’s a big deal—a lot of people from the industry will be there.”

His eyes lit up with genuine excitement. “That’s amazing! When is it?”

“In a couple of weeks,” you replied, leaning back in your chair. “I was thinking… maybe we could make a trip out of it? You know, see the sights, visit the museums, take a little break from the farm.”

Dave nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I like that idea. I’ve never been to DC, have I?”

You tilted your head, wondering aloud. “My guess is as good as yours,”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Beats me. But hey, if I haven’t, I guess it’s about time I checked it out.”

The two of you spent the rest of the evening making plans, mapping out the places you wanted to visit and the things you wanted to do. There was an air of excitement, a sense that this trip would be a new adventure—a chance to explore not just a new city, but perhaps something deeper between you.

–

The day of the trip finally arrived, and the two of you packed your bags and set off for D.C. The drive was long, but the hours flew by in a blur of easy conversation and laughter, the kind that had become second nature between you.

The miles rolled by as you chatted about everything and nothing, which is pretty funny for the both of you considering he does not have memories of his past, yet he talks like he does.

When you finally pulled into the city and checked into your hotel, the sun was beginning to set. The room was cozy, with a queen bed taking center stage, its crisp white sheets inviting after the long drive. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, the air seemed to change—charged with the same electricity that had been simmering between you for weeks.

You both looked at the bed, then at each other. Dave smirked. “So… you think this one will hold up better than my bed back at home?” Referring to that moment a few weeks ago where you both were going at it so rough, that the bed literally collapsed.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Let’s hope so. The last thing I want is for you to end up in the hospital again.” Referring this time to the first time you and Dave slept together.

Dave raised an eyebrow, crossing the room toward you. “Are you saying I should be worried?”

“Maybe,” you teased, taking a step back as he closed the distance. “But if you’re up for the risk…”

“Always,” he replied with a grin, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer. “Besides, I love it when you get jealous when the nurses flirt with me…”

You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes playfully but kissed him anyway.

“Hey…” He gasped, pulling away from the kiss “I’m yours…” He reassures you.

“Pretty sure?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, very sure,” he conceded, his lips brushing against yours. “Let me show you…” He smirked.

Your heart raced as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

“Only yours…,” he murmured before capturing your lips in a kiss, slow and teasing at first, his hands sliding up your back. The kiss deepened quickly, fueled by what felt like weeks of pent-up desire when it was only the hours-long drive that kept you both from being this close. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his head in one swift motion.

Dave grinned, his eyes dark with anticipation. “In a hurry, are we?”

“Just making up for lost time,” you quipped, your hands roaming over his chest as he pulled you closer, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“I like the way you think,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. His hands moved to your hips, sliding under your shirt, his fingers brushing against your skin. “You’re not the only one who’s been waiting hours for this.”

With a quick tug, he pulled your shirt over your head, his gaze raking over you with a mix of hunger and admiration. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his hands trailing down your sides.

You felt a blush creep up your neck, but you met his eyes with a teasing smile. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“Good,” he replied, his voice full of intent. “Because I plan on going everywhere.”

He guided you back onto the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as he settled over you. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your hands tangling in his hair. The intensity of the moment made the world outside fade away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

“John…” you breathed his given name as his lips trailed down your neck, his hands skillfully unhooking your bra and discarding it without breaking the kiss, arching into his touch as his hands explored every inch of you.

His mouth found your nipple, teasing it with his tongue before he moved to the other, eliciting a soft moan from you. “You like that?” he asked, his voice full of warmth.

“I think you know the answer to that,” you managed to reply, your breath hitching as his hand slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“Let’s find out for sure,” he whispered, sliding your panties down and tossing them aside. His fingers found your core, his touch gentle but purposeful, sending shivers down your spine.

“God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he teased your entrance, his eyes locked on yours. “You’ve been wanting this as much as I have.” He murmurs as he inserts two of his fingers inside you.

Dave’s fingers curled upwards and moved slowly, deliberately, finding that spot inside you that always made you gasp. As he curled his fingers just right, his thumb began to rub circles on your clit, adding a new layer of sensation that made you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

"Right there?" he whispered, his voice rough with need, his breath hot against your ear.

Your response was a breathless moan, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Yes… please… don’t stop…”

He added a third finger, stretching you further, and you gasped, your back lifting as the pressure inside you built higher and higher. "God, yeah…just like that…”

His fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. “Come on,” he coaxed, his voice low and encouraging. “I want to feel you come for me. Give it to me… let me feel you.”

Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as the pleasure spiraled out of control. “I’m… I’m so close…” you whimpered, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for release.

“Come for me, darlin’,” he murmured, his fingers thrusting deeper, curling just right. “I want to feel you…”

And then you did, your climax crashing over you like a wave, your body convulsing around his fingers. You cried out his name, your hands fisting in the sheets, your muscles clamping down hard on his hand as he continued to work you through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his tone both commanding and full of adoration.

When the last tremors subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers, watching your face closely. His thumb rubbed one last circle over your clit, making you shiver and gasp again. “God, you’re amazing,” he said softly, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting you. “So damn sweet.”

You smiled, still breathless, but with a teasing glint in your eye. “I think you’ve had enough fun for now…”

He chuckled, lowering his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “Not even close,” he murmured against your mouth, positioning himself at your entrance. “I’m just getting started.”

He pushed in slowly, filling you inch by inch, his eyes never leaving yours. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling almost overwhelming after the intensity of your release. “God, fuck…” you breathed, your hands gripping his arms.

He groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he began to move, his thrusts deep and slow, your hand moving up to cup his head, threading your fingers through his hair. “You feel so good… so perfect,” he whispered, each word a ragged breath.

You moaned, your hips meeting his, and he picked up the pace, his rhythm steady and deliberate. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” you gasped. “More… please, don’t stop…”

He grinned, gripping your hips tighter, lifting your bottom half off the bed slightly, changing the angle. The new position allowed him to drive deeper, each thrust hitting that spot that made your vision blur with pleasure. “How’s that, darlin’?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

“Oh, God… yes!” you cried, your nails digging into his back as he set a relentless pace, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the room. “Just like that… don’t stop…”

He felt you tightening around him, your body trembling with the approach of another climax. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard you knew it would leave bruises, but the slight pain only added to the pleasure. “Come for me again,” he demanded, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. “I want to feel you come all over me… then milk me dry…”

Your breath hitched, and with a few more thrusts, you were falling again, your body shaking as another orgasm tore through you. You cried out his given name, your muscles clenching around him, squeezing him so tightly he almost lost control.

He groaned, feeling you convulse around him, and he pushed deeper, harder, lifting your hips higher to angle even further into you. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasped, his voice hoarse. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “Come for me,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Fill me up… I want to feel all of you…”

That was all it took. With a low, guttural moan, he drove into you one last time, his body stiffening as he came, emptying himself deep inside you. His hips jerked with every pulse, his fingers still gripping your hips like a lifeline.

He stayed buried inside you, panting, his head resting on your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed. “That was… incredible…”

You nodded, your body still tingling from the aftershocks. “I couldn’t agree more…”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re not so bad yourself…”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression softening. “I mean it,” he said, his voice serious. “I don’t ever want to be without you.”

You pulled him down for another kiss, feeling his heart hammering against your chest. You didn’t say anything knowing that he’s not yours to keep, instead, you kissed him again.

He grinned, his hands caressing your sides as he held you close. “I’m yours,” he murmured, and you felt his body relax into yours, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

–

Over the next few days, you and Dave played tourists, taking in the sights and sounds of the nation’s capital. You visited the National Mall, wandering through the museums that lined its expanse. The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History captivated both of you, with its towering dinosaur skeletons and dazzling gemstone exhibits. Dave seemed particularly fascinated by the Air and Space Museum, spending hours admiring the aircraft and spacecraft on display.

“Can you imagine being up there?” Dave mused as you stood beneath the massive Space Shuttle, his eyes wide with wonder.

You smiled, slipping your hand into his. “I think you’d make a great astronaut. You’ve got the calm under pressure thing down.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Maybe in another life.”

Each day brought new experiences, and with them, a growing sense of ease and contentment. The city was vibrant, and full of energy, and you found yourself enjoying every moment with Dave by your side. Whether you were strolling through the U.S. Botanic Garden, admiring the lush greenery, or standing in awe of the Lincoln Memorial at dusk, there was a sense of connection that made the trip feel special.

Next Chapter 👉🏻

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedropascal #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal fan fic #pedrohub #dave york equalizer #dave york x you #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york #equalizer 2 #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfic #dave york x female reader

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reborrowing · 5 months ago

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a strange appearance, part six

Stranger Swap Masterpost | ao3 First | Prev | Next

word count: ~2900 cws: fear, angst, hunger, reference to past abuse, reference to last chapter's mention of human-ish experimentation (nothing new)

Phoebe

Phoebe yelped as the ground slipped out from underneath her without warning. Or, table, as it were. She reached the floor sooner than she should have, and her leg banged against the edge of the coffee table and stayed there. She caught her breath and sat up and was briefly confused by what she saw. Her apartment, the front room, exactly as it had been the night before.

“Oww,” she said loudly, but the shock was probably worse than the impact.

It was over.

She rubbed at the fresh sore spot on the back of her head and briefly considered how hard she’d hit it. None of the morning was possible and it would be far from the first time Phoebe had fallen asleep in front of a screen instead of in her bed. Again, the idea presented itself: the whole thing had been an unwanted dream.

But she looked down (down, thank god!) to the coffee table and there was her phone, still open to an obscure journal article. And there was the sheet scrap she’d tied around herself like the world's tiniest toga. Dull pain all over assured her that she’d done more than lay around on the couch. She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye as something darted out from underneath a sweatshirt left empty on the couch.

Val, she realized.

She didn’t have time yet to marvel. They scrambled across the couch cushion much faster than she’d expected, and then kept going. She only got a glance at their face, but they were obviously panicking again. They clawed their way up the back of the couch frantically, but had nowhere back there to go but a jump to the hard floor on the other side.

“Woah, woah, stop! Hey!” she cried.

Phoebe lurched unsteadily to catch them before they could fall. They flailed for a second, trying to find a new handhold in the upholstery, then fell limp against her grasping fingers. She cupped her other hand around them and pulled them away from the couch.

It went without saying, but they were so small. It was almost easier to understand the scale looking at them than what she’d already gone through this morning. Val didn’t even fill up her palm. How many things their size had she lost, she wondered, running a finger along the length of their stringy tail. It twitched as she reached the end, tickling her with its trail of fluff, and then jerked away to curl up around Val’s leg. She took a sharp breath.

How many things their size had she broken?

She realized that Val definitely hadn’t meant to hurt her earlier because would be all too easy to accidentally hurt them now. A sudden twitch would send them to the floor, a tight squeeze might break bones. She angled her palm to try and make a more comfortable seat and wondered if that was even possible.

Val looked past her hand as if sizing up the fall, until she moved to block their jump. They shook and hunched forward, hugging their knees, as if they were trying to make themself even smaller. Or maybe just trying to keep warm? They’d been wearing a thick sweatshirt all morning and now they were back to the nude. Phoebe wondered if their size gave them trouble with temperature. She hadn't felt too cold but...they weren't human.

“I’m sorry,” they whispered.

“For what? You’re good, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. I can put you down on the table here if you’ve calmed down a bit,” she said.

She didn’t want to let go of them. She wanted to turn them over and over in her hands like a puzzle until she had more answers. But she was curious, not heartless: she could wait.

“This is normal for you, right? Like nothing else happened?” she asked. They finally looked up to meet her gaze, their expression uncertain.

“Y-yeah, yes. And please, put me down. Please. I’ll be good.”

Val’s tone made her uneasy. There was a sudden bitter taste in her mouth as she re-contextualized the scars down their torso. The size of them, the symmetry of the scratches. That burn on their shoulder looked horribly circular and unnatural, not something likely to have come about accidentally. She felt sick realizing they probably hadn’t been speaking hypothetically about being hurt if a human discovered them. Her disgust must have slipped out onto her face and been misinterpreted because their heart rate suddenly spiked and they leaned forward.

“C-calm, I mean! I’ll sit still. Please,” Val’s voice cracked and wavered.

Phoebe bit her tongue and slowly knelt down to let them on the table. She was still hovering way above them and wasn’t sure how to fix that without laying down which seemed just as uncomfortable. Val dropped almost immediately dropped into a seated position and sat with a tense, unnaturally straight posture and waited for her to say something.

"Dude, it's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," she said.

She didn’t like this. She’d never been especially good with uncomfortable feelings, whether they were her own or someone else’s. She tried to joke about things being so normal again to the tiny person sitting on a coaster and it didn’t help. She laughed nervously and after a pause just long enough that even she was sure it was still uncomfortable, Val joined her. She didn’t know what else to do and mumbled something about going to get dressed, pointing out the scrap she’d been wearing so they could do the same if they wanted.

Val flinched again, the fur on their tail bristling as the shadow of her gesture approached but otherwise they were nearly perfectly still. Her cheeks pinked as she realized they may not want to wrap up in some old, trashy rag a near-stranger had just been wearing. She decided she should just get herself dressed first and shifted uncomfortably, debating whether or not she should leave them here or if that would strand them on the table. Was she supposed to cut up another outfit to be a good host? Finally, Val stood and shuffled to the fraying purple scrap.

“What are you going to with me?” they asked quietly.

“What?”

“I thought it would be nice to know before you… I don’t know. Sorry. I can just get dressed,” they muttered.

“No, what do you mean? I’m not gonna do anything to you,” Phoebe said.

They bristled and turned to consider her with eyes wide enough that she could see the iris properly, even from here. They looked bewildered and disbelieving. That sick feeling in Phoebe’s stomach grew, along with a pressing need to defend herself—was it that unbelievable? Were their experiences so universally awful that they thought humans were all just as cruel? The disgust must have slipped out onto her face because they recoiled and slunk back to grab the scrap.

“No, I’m sorry, no, it’s just I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you. Or, no, I’m not doing anything with you, that’s not what I meant, I mean—I’m not going to hurt you or kick you out or anything. I’ve never had a guest that’s…like you before. That I knew of anyway.”

Val managed a smile at that, if only for a second.

“I—it’s not that I think you want to hurt me or anything but…after…I don’t think anyone would blame you for…you could, you know?” they said, voice soft.

“If you mean like, for earlier, I’m not mad. Like, all these bruises don’t feel great but you were having a bad morning, I get it. Kinda. But I don’t want to get payback, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said. It was enough to get them to relax at least a hair.

“I—we probably should get dressed, like you said. My um, my clothes are under your dresser from this morning, if you don’t mind giving me a lift over there. O-or you could bring them here, if you don’t want to—it’s awkward, now I know,” they said with an empty laugh.

“What would you prefer?” Phoebe asked and they startled.

“Oh! Um, either is fine, thank you. Whatever’s easier for you.”

Phoebe was skeptical of that, given how skittish they’d been, but held out a hand for them. She didn’t want to dig around on the floor, she had spent enough time down there today. Val cringed at first as she reached for them, then loosened as they looked at her open, waiting palm. They bundled up the sheet scrap to cover their chest before looking up at her with a shy smile.

“Thanks. Um, for not grabbing me again. And…just, thank you for not being mad,” they said.

Phoebe nodded uncomfortably. She’d only been trying to keep them from hurting themself, had she hurt them instead? They didn’t look injured. Her hand wavered, but they bounded easily up her fingers and sat on the cushion of her palm with a lightness that took her breath away. They had an easy balance even on her uneven flesh and settled comfortably against her fingers as if they had been made to fit there.

They were so impossibly small and spectacularly delicate-looking. Their eyes were big and wet and they were altogether cute in the same way as a kitten, if she pretended she didn’t know about those brutal scars. She brushed her thumb through their hair and felt their ear twitch as her fingertip passed it by. The fur on the end of their tail tickled her palm as—also like a cat—they thumped it against her hand in apparent annoyance until she sheepishly apologized.

“It’s alright, you’re not the first. I already knew I’m pretty,” Val said.

Phoebe rolled her eyes and stood up. They set a hand on her thumb as if for balance, little claws resting in the ridges of her fingerprint, but she could tell they didn’t need the support—there was no weight in the gesture. Unlike her, they were used to this. They barely swayed as she started to walk.

“Hey, so, before we uh, turned back, we were talking about other people like you? You said you were a borrower, was it?” she asked.

“R-right, I was… we were looking at those… right. Yeah, borrower. I don’t know if that’s the ‘right’ word, scientifically. It’s like…you’re human but call yourself mankind? I think there’s another word,” they mumbled.

“Like what?”

They took a deep breath and crossed their arms like they were hugging themself. She could feel the tension ripple down their back. She waited for them to decide on how much they were willing to share.

“I always just say borrower, but, um…I think it also starts with b, maybe. Not sprite, though. I’ve never heard that.”

“I’ve never heard sprite describe anything real, just fantasy creatures. I guess I’ve never heard of anything like you being real either,” Phoebe said.

This time Val muttered too quietly for her to hear and gestured towards the dresser. They must be with questioning again. She set them down on the floor and shuffled backwards to the closet, hyperaware of how heavy her footsteps were, before turning around to grab her own clothes and offer them some privacy in process.

By the time she turned back around, Val had vanished. She called out and looked under and around the dresser for where they could have hidden themself, but they were gone.

Val

Val spent what felt like an eternity tucked against the side of the mattress waiting for Phoebe to give up and leave. There was a terrifying minute where they chose not to breathe as the shadow beneath them deepened and Phoebe searched in the dusty space below the bed. She sighed when all she could find was her own clutter. They were glad they were themself again but they wanted this whole thing to be done and over. They worried it never would be.

They should come out, they knew that. It was awful and rude to run off and disappear without a word of goodby, worse to skulk around where they didn’t belong. Even if she really wasn’t upset with them already, she’d have every right to be furious when she found them. And it was a matter of when, not if, unless they moved away from her apartment entirely. She knew now and Val was a mediocre borrower on their best days. She’d catch them eventually. Their gut told them it would have been better to stay and cooperate and just hope they could convince her not to use them as a lab rat.

They had only run because the colony was so close—running was the right thing to do by borrower standards, or the least wrong anyway. If they could convince the colony that it hadn’t been their fault… Better yet, they could try to cover it up like it had never even happened. They’d never be able to do that if they stayed with her.

All Val wanted was a place in the colony where they could pick up some specialist trade and never had to leave the walls again. They were more learned than most borrowers after all, entirely literate, they could be useful. They didn’t mind tedious busywork. They didn’t mind being ordered around. They were tired of being fending for themself alone like this.

“I guess you went home. Not sure how I feel about you skulking around my room, but... alright. I’d still like to talk about… well, everything, really, if you’re willing to come back sometime,” Phoebe said eventually.

Talk. Would she really be willing to leave it at talk?

They let another few minutes pass after she left the room before rushing for the nearest escape. The climb home was long and laborious without their gear and once they made it, they collapsed onto their little sponge bed and stayed there for days.

Val listlessly re-arranged their shelf in a futile search for a forgotten stash of food. There hadn’t been anything there yesterday, or the day before, but the day before that they had found a little pile of sunflower seeds they didn’t remember taking. Those had only lasted so long.

They hadn’t left their loft since they made it back home. They’d barely left their bed. They had lost track of how many days had passed—at least a week. They should have been packing. They should have packed, past tense. They should be gone. They should have sent word to the colony in the center of the complex that one of the tenants knew, (that maybe everyone knew), but how could they defend themself this time—the truth was too unbelievable to be an excuse. And how many times could they mess this up before Parsley and the rest of their council told Val that they were no longer allowed to live in the complex?

The idea terrified them more than starving did. They weren’t built to survive outside, not with the weather and the cold and about five hungry, violent creatures for every one Val had already heard of. No, they’d much rather starve than get banished to the wild to be eaten.

But it was getting late. The unit downstairs had pets and the one next door had another outcast rumored to have been exiled for his violent tendencies. Val didn’t have the energy to navigate around either. They barely had the energy to trudge around their own loft. If they didn’t do something now, this was going to get even worse and then they would die.

They wrapped themself in another layer of flannel and glared at the floor. As if in mockery, the kitchen below them smelled amazing. It was so close. Hot, seasoned food. They could almost see it through the drywall, simmering on the stove.

Muffled music bounced through the walls, occasionally joined by Phoebe's off-key alto. They listened when she spoke up now, in case she was saying something that they needed to know. Several times, she had addressed them directly as if they were in the room with her. She wanted to see them again.

She said she didn’t mind if they stayed.

They squeezed their eyes closed and rolled deeper into their bedding. Bad idea.

Of course she said didn’t mind if they stayed. She was more than curious, prying. She had let them go, but Val had felt the hesitation. The slight jerk of her hand when they went to leave, the desire to keep them for herself to study. Val shuddered at the thought of those photos and pulled their blankets tighter around themself.

Maybe some ants would make their way into the loft, now that Val had choked down the last of the herbs they’d been using as pest deterrents. Their empty stomach lurched in distaste that roiled into another pang of hunger. They had never liked their mother’s awful outdoorsy, survivalist eats. God, they envied how long a human could go without food—what good did the ability even serve, when they had all the food they could want?

Maybe they should risk the cabinet once they were sure Phoebe was away from the kitchen. Maybe she hadn’t set any traps. Maybe they could get lucky again. Maybe it wouldn’t so bad.

taglist: @da3dm @whumpsday @gt-daboss

(To be added/removed from the taglist please comment, ask, or message, I’ll forget if it’s just in the tags of a reblog!)

#g/t #giant tiny #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t stories #my writing #stranger swap #oc: val #oc: phoebe #is this anything #i no longer know #just want 2 finish and be done have one less wip you feel

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kidrauhlschik · 1 year ago

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4. Tangled Memories - Lee Know AU

Post Traumatic Amnesia (PTA) is a transient state of confusion, disorientation and memory loss that occurs immediately following a traumatic brain injury. PTA is sometimes also referred to as post traumatic confusional state and can occur from the moment of injury until the return of continuous memory.

The accident was a tragedy.

But it was the best tragedy to ever happen to you.

Final Part - See pt 1, 2, & 3 on the Masterlist linked above

Warnings: angst, f!reader, enemies to lovers, drunk driving, gaslighting, Fighting, yelling, cursing, angst, heartbreak, lies, angst, accidents, not proofread, minho is mean, lmk if I missed anything!!

Words: 2.2k

You find the note the next morning and immediately crumple it up and throw it in the trash. Since when has Minho been so sentimental and needy?

You can understand that he's over whatever rivalry he two of you used to have, but you're not. Up until the day before, you thought Minho was good, perfect even, but opening your eyes and remembering all of the awful things he's made you deal with made things so much different.

For starters, you can't believe that you trusted him. He's just as manipulative and sneaky as he's always been. He took advantage of your vulnerable state and made you depend on him. He would have been okay with you dying that day and all of the sudden he's not.

Yet, he also coaxed you down from your panic attacks, he made sure to always available for when you needed him, he stayed with you around the clock when you were injured. Thing is, you wouldn't have gotten injured if it wasn't for him.

The back and forth is overwhelming so instead of pondering on the fact you go to check your phone, which probably made things even worse.

Chris: He told me. Im so sorry. Its all my fault.

Innie: Wanna talk? I heard what happened.

Seungmin: I can't believe you didn't tell us you were remembering stuff.

Hyunjin: I'm sorry for keeping you in the dark. We need to talk.

Lix: Hey wanna come over? I can make us brownies and we can talk things out.

Changbin: Are you okay?

Jisung: Minho is really sorry. I am too. We all are. Can we talk it out?

Chris: Please?

Not wanting to deal with everything right now, you shut your phone off and begin your day. It's time to clean up and enroll in classes again. You should probably catch up with your other friends as well, you'd been very distant because you were always hanging out with Minho. It's best to keep busy and avoid thinking about that snake.

Tragically, as snakes would have it, Minho manages to slither his way inside your thoughts on a regular basis for the next month. As much as you hate it, you couldn't help seeing him in everything. He was in your sheets, in your kitchen, next to you on the couch, in the park, in the flowers, and in the sunset. Everything reminded you of him, every version of him, the bad and the good, and you're not sure which one you prefer.

Classes were to start in a week, through your circumstances, the school was able to let you enroll late to your classes, but you were now a year behind. There's so much to catch up on, yet your brain allows something to distract you from your studies, and that something is always Minho. He hasn't made an effort to make contact with you, which reassures you that whatever he had going on was all made up in his head. Maybe it was all a moment of hysteria.

The hysteria felt awfully real to you though. You can't help but doubt yourself and ask if the sleezy, ignorant, cold Lee Minho actually felt something for you, or if you felt something for him. That's why it's better to keep busy rather than to sit and ponder.

Chris: Wanna come over? It'll just be me and Jisung :)

You had forgiven the guys awfully quickly for your predicament. You could see why they'd put Minho in that situation in a moment of anger, they didn't even know that you were remembering your past, and although you wished they would have stepped up more to impede the shit show that happened with Minho, you can tell that they're sorry. They're your best friends after all, but you were still keeping them at an arms distance for the time being. Except for Hyunjin. He always encouraged you to chase after Minho and you couldn't help but too feel betrayed at that. No one else pushed you into his arms but Hyunjin did, and who knows? Maybe if he hadn't, you could've remained civil with Minho instead of playing house.

When you walk inside of Chan's dorm, the smell of warm pizza welcomes you like a warm hug.

"Hey! How are you?" Jisung asks from the couch beside Chan.

"I'm good, thank you." You offer a small smile in return as you take off your coat to lay it on the nearest clean, flat surface.

The place is a mess, there a cups everywhere, the trash is overflowing, and the entire floor had become a laundry basket. "I don't keep you guys in check for a year and all of the sudden your place becomes a pigs den?" You laugh while sprawling yourself on Chris' couch, throwing your legs over Jisung.

"Hey! It wasn't us, it was -" Jisung gets cut off by Chan discretely pinching his leg under the blanket. The younger winces but remains silent.

"Yeah, Jisung's been a mess lately." Chris smiles apologetically.

"Haha. Yeah, sorry." Jisung adds.

You couldn't help but feel as if they were hiding something, but before you could question them, the front door swings open.

"Jisung. What the hell do you want? I was in the middle of practice." The second Minho spots you, he freezes like he did before. Loss for words, he just stares at you as if he'd seen a ghost. He wants to walk out and get as far away from you as he can, but he also wants to run up to you and hold you in his arms. He wants to apologize over and over again, he wants to beg for your love, but he knows better than to think that you'd accept him.

You immediately hop off the couch, quickly on guard, wishing that he wasn't standing in front of you. Seeing him in your memories was very different than seeing him in real life. He looked thinner, tired, and restless. The Minho you had been seeing for the past year looked happy and healthy. Now he was drowning in his hoodie, his hair was messy, and his expression read exhaustion. You couldn't help the worry that seeped its way into your brain.

"What are you doing here?" You ask.

"I live here." Still staring at you in shock, unfortunately, it seemed that he'd gotten even better at hiding his emotions.

"What about your place?"

"I got kicked out for not maintaining the place while I lived with you."

Was he implying that this was your fault?

"You never had to live with me in the first place." An argument. Something you were both so used to, now caused an ache in both of your chests. Your words catch at the base of your throat, and Minho doesn't even have the energy to argue.

Minho finally takes his eyes off of you, scanning the area, looking at the mess he'd made at his friends dorm. The past month had been hell for him. He kept on beating himself up anytime he had a second alone with his thoughts. The only good thing he had done since he left your place was joining the school's dance team, hoping that doing something he enjoyed could take his mind off of you. He was wrong. Every time he showed up to practice, he remembered that you were the only reason he was doing this, not giving up on his dream. He was undereating and overworking himself to the bone, which was not the healthiest coping mechanism but the other option was to rot away in the couch.

He nods and makes a move to turn away, leaving the dorm again.

"Don't walk away Lee Minho!" He pauses his steps but doesn't turn around.

"You wanted me to leave."

"It's not that easy! I don't know what I want okay? I'm in shambles. I want you to leave, but I want you to come back right after. I want you to cry but it hurts to see you in pain. I trust you but I hate you. Worst of all I love you, but I don't even know what's real anymore." You throw your arms up in desperation, not even realizing that Jisung and Chris had left the area long ago. "I just want to know what's real."

Minho finally turns to look at you with an expression that can best be read as indignation. Or was it desperation?

"You want to know what's real? The real thing is that I want to know every part of you, every scar, every bruise, I want to trace the map of you! All of you and every thing about you. My fingers a compass, and your freckles the constellations that I will chart in my heart. That way, when I close my eyes I'll have you in my stars forever, because guess what? You're already in everything else! You're in the sun, in the air, and in my reflection. I'm drowning in the memory of you and the worst part is that I can't even see you!" Minho walks towards you but you stay frozen in place.

"It's never been the way you looked, it was always the way you were. You were like me, both broken and angry. It wasn't until I saw you behind the walls and I was able to see you bare. I would have fallen in love with you with my eyes closed, but I never could because we never allowed each other the chance. You told me that you didn't want to be the shell of who you are, so why can't you let yourself be happy?" He's face to face with you know, a mere couple of feet apart. He was no longer loud, but more so calm. His plea turning into a confession.

"From the moment I saw you making a fool of yourself in that park, I knew that you were worth the broken heart. Finish breaking my heart, and you'll find yourself inside. I'm sorry, but I'll never find the right words for you. You are my everything, always, and even that is not enough."

"Minho stop." Somewhere in the middle of his speech, your eyes decided to betray you and tears were now freely streaming down your face.

"I'm glad I found you, the real you, because before you, I never knew what to wish for. Want me to be honest?" He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm terrified of letting you in. I'm scared to see myself more clearly through your eyes, wondering if I'm good enough. I already lost you, but the truth is that not having you scares me more than all the other truths of love. So please, look at me in the eyes and tell me that I'm not being real right now."

He's mere inches away from you, searching for an answer on your face.

So many thoughts but no clear answer runs through your mind, you're just overwhelmed by his confession, the situation, his mere presence, is not letting you think clearly whatsoever. So you break eye contact and make a bee line for the door. While holding the door knob, you stop and say your last words.

"Sorry Minnie."

Minnie.

The one term of endearment that Minho allows to give him hope.

Of course on the first day of class you'd be running late. You hated being late and the stress of studying is weighing heavy on your shoulders. How could the morning be any worse?

Luck is a funny thing though. Just when you think things couldn't get worse, they always do.

You bump into someone that simply continues walking, making you drop all of your notecards and papers on the floor. You immediately bend down to begin collecting everything, but there is so much going on around you. People playing around, others trying to find a seat, and more reuniting with their friends after the summer. So much people, so many noises, this is why you're never late to anything. The stress begins to build even more, to the point where your hands begin to shake, needing to move faster in order for you to find your own seat.

His hand comes out of nowhere. Body shoving away the people that were stepping on your stuff, rushing to pick everything up to help you. He hands everything he collected in a neat pile and you cautiously take it. He then turns to the nearest desk on his left, grabbing two coffees and handing you one.

"Hey, I'm Lee Minho. Looks like we're in the same class. Wanna sit together?"

Starting from where you left off was messy, but maybe starting from the beginning wouldn't be so bad. It will take time, but it might be worth it. If everything was real, it will definitely be worth it and more.

"I'm Y/N. I'm down, but I have to warn you, I can be a bit mean at times."

He laughs and hovers a hand on your lower back to guide you to the two empty seats next to each other.

"I wouldn't change that for the world." He gives you a small smile that could also be a smirk. He had the audacity to be cocky?

Despite that, you can't help the little ray of sunshine that warms you from the inside.

“I hope you mean that Lee Minho.”

“I always mean what I say.”

A/N: okay, i am not in love with the ending but honestly if it was up to me, i would've ended it on the last chapter. I'm trying something new w happy endings. Thank you so much for reading!!

TAGLIST: @stanstraykidsskz @weareapackofstrays @linos-kitten @cassidymb121

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the-way-astray · 4 months ago

Note

It's the Never Change Anon again! Enjoy!

—————

Title: Never Change chapter 2

Pairing: Stria x Keefe

—————

"I'm still waiting for you to tell me who Shannon is."

"Your mind might explode."

Keefe raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely insulted. "I think you'd be surprised what I can handle."

Well, insulting him was the goal, so Stria felt no remorse. "Trust me, you can't handle this. I'm really just protecting you." Stria smiled warmly and sweetly, her face the perfect picture of someone looking out for a friend. Keefe rolled his eyes, and Stria laughed internally. Maybe she should call him sweetie next time. His eyes might pop out of his head.

"Well, most of this is just you being upset about my sense of humor," Keefe said, a very true statement. Stria nodded. "I am quite funny, if I do say so myself."

"Stop saying so yourself. Please. That's, like, half the problem with your humor. Not only are you not funny, but you're vocal about how funny you think you are. It's unbearable."

"That's an opinion," Keefe defended. Somehow, he'd been miffed enough by most of the essay that she hadn't had to endure his ridiculous smirk even once since they'd gotten their smoothies. "One most people disagree with."

"Yeah, because Shannon decided to write that for some reason."

"What the hell does this Shannon person have to do with anything?!"

Stria smiled sweetly again, tilting her head. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Excuse me?"

Stria was internally cackling. He looked so frustrated. This was amazing. "You heard me."

"You're a very unpleasant person," Keefe said, crossing his arms.

"I'm not trying to make this date pleasant."

Oh no. Now she was having to deal with the smirk again. Dang it. Could they go back to her needling him? That was fun! "Thought you said it wasn't a date."

"It isn't."

"But you just said it was."

"This date, as in, a day on the calendar," Stria said. Truthfully, it had been a slip of the tongue, and she wasn't sure where it came from. She just hadn't known how else to refer to what they were doing, though she could think of a few better options than date now that she was actually considering it. "It's always a date. You can wipe that smirk off your face."

"I don't think I will." His smirk grew. Ugh. He was the worst.

Well. She'd just have to wipe it off for him, then. "Fine. Guess it's time for us to get back to the things I hate about you. Where were we again? Oh, yes! The way you always push until you get what you want. I'm even enabling you by being here right now, but it's worth it, because I get to rant to you. Why do you not take no for an answer? You help Sophie, not by choice. She thinks it's easier to just tell you what you want to hear than argue with you. There's citations on the sheet!"

"What are you citing?!"

Stria brought back the sweet smile. "None of your concern."

"Will you cut that out?!"

"I don't plan to."

Keefe groaned. "You can at least explain this to me." He was pointing to something on the sheet, and Stria leaned in to see what it said.

“‘Is it okay if I enter your mind?’ Fitz asked. ‘Dude, do you realize how creepy that sounds?’ Keefe interrupted. ‘It’s less creepy than reading her feelings all the time without telling her,’ Fitz argued. ‘Hey, it’s not like I try to do that! You’re just mad that Foster can’t hide things from me.’” (144) Keefe gets bored, so he interrupts Sophie and Fitz’s cognate training for no reason. You know, because he’s incapable of keeping his nose out of others’ business for two seconds. And not only that, he has the audacity to say he doesn’t try to read Sophie’s emotions. Sure, he’s not doing it all the time, every time, but he does it when he feels she’s hiding something.

"I think I explained it pretty well on the paper," Stria said simply, internally cackling at the way he looked genuinely offended.

"Aside from the fact that I have no clue how you're quoting conversations you were not there for and still won't explain what those numbers mean, I don't try to read Sophie's emotions! They're just loud!"

Stria pointed to the last sentence of the section he'd indicated, not about to waste her breath repeating something she'd already said.

"Uh, I feel that she's hiding something the same way I feel all the rest of her feelings: by accident!"

"Sure."

"It's like you're deliberately trying to misunderstand me!" Keefe exclaimed.

"On the contrary. I think I understand you quite well." Stria crossed her arms. "As you can see, I know far more about you than you might anticipate, and suffice to say, I don't like what I know."

"Okay, no. You don't get to just pretend you know me because you've seem some weird written account of all my conversations!" Keefe snapped. "You don't like my personality? Fine! My friends do. Friends being Fitz, Dex, Sophie... yes, they roll their eyes and tease me about it, because we are friends. If they didn't like me, they wouldn't hang out with me!"

"Wow, you really need to believe that, don't you?" Stria remarked.

Keefe grit his teeth. "I don't know how you know these things. I don't know why you're so sure you understand me, when none of these weird quotes are in my perspective."

"Your perspective is worse, trust me."

"My point is, you think you have me all figured out, and you're wrong."

Stria shrugged. "If you're so sure, why should you care?"

"Because you think the worst of everything I do! It isn't fair!"

"I only do that because everyone else thinks the best of everything you do!"

"That isn't even true!" Keefe exclaimed, exasperated. "Look, I'm not about to get into details about my personal relationships to some girl I barely know, but there's a lot more than what you've got written down on this paper. And if you think everyone just loves me and everything I do all the time, you're wrong."

Stria almost retorted, but something about this particular brand of exasperation that he was showing made her stop. There was something oddly vulnerable about it, and she was surprised Keefe wasn't covering it up with atrocious jokes. Or maybe they were past that stage, since he had some idea that she'd a good deal of his life. "Of course your friends love you," she admitted instead. The shock on his face when she admitted it was almost as good as his earlier fury. Not quite. But almost. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?'

"There's people... it doesn't really matter to you, actually." She didn't need to explain to him about the Pinterest KOTLC fandom. Especially since she wasn't telling him who Shannon Messenger was.

"I think it matters a lot, actually."

"Yeah, well, I'm the one who knows it, and you don't, so it's up to me whether or not it matters to you, actually."

"It's my life, you know," Keefe snapped. "If you know all this random stuff about it that I don't, you should probably tell me."

"Trust me—"

"I don't. You sound like the Fork man when he's trying to convince Sophie she doesn't need to know who her parents are."

Stria blinked.

Really? He was going to make that comparison?

"Want to know who your parents are?" Stria offered, deliberately misinterpreting the quesiton. "Their names are—"

"I'm good, thanks."

And... now he really didn't look like himself. Maybe bringing up his parents was a bad idea. Stria didn't like him very much, but she took that particular sore spot of his very seriously. "Sorry."

"For what?"

Nope. He wasn't getting any more of an apology out of her than that. He was really good at getting people to feel bad for him, wasn't he? "We should probably get going," Stria said curtly. "I'm out of smoothie."

Keefe sighed, standing up. "Okay. Want to do this again sometime?"

Stria blinked slowly.

Then again.

Then, "I'm sorry, did you just say you want to do this again?"

"Yep."

Okay, Stria was at a complete loss. "Why?!"

"I don't know. I hate talking to you. I hate the way this stupid essay trivializes things I genuinely struggle with." He absentmindedly traced his hand over one of the passages still on the table, and Stria glanced at it, wondering what he was talking about.

“‘And Fitz isn’t perfect, by the way.’ ‘He’s close enough.’” (238) No??? Nobody is. And here’s a fine example of another forced consolation scene. Keefe lathers it up with the self-pity and feeling sorry for himself, and later on down the road, Shannon realizes that and her solution to that particular problem is hilariously atrocious. I’m writing this quote in blue so that it’s easy to come back to later, because I’m going to talk about it once we get there. But for now: Keefe’s personal pity party is clearly only there to make the audience pity him. All he’s doing right now is acting weirdly whiny and jealous of Fitz for . . . being “perfect”? Which again, jealousy is natural. But Keefe has never in his life tried to achieve perfection, and has in fact always tried to do the exact opposite, so why would he be jealous of Fitz for being perfect all of a sudden? It’s completely out of character for him. Shannon. You can’t just make Keefe jealous of Fitz for the sake of being jealous of Fitz because you want a forced consolation scene. It has to make sense. Keefe would never be jealous of Fitz for this particular reason. Keefe doesn’t try to be perfect at all. Why would he care that Fitz is “perfect”?

"I think I make a good point in that passage."

Keefe laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head. "Like I said, you don't know me half as well as you think you do."

Whatever. They didn't need to keep arguing over this. "Okay then. Let's say I don't know you at all and nothing in this essay matters."

"Which is true," Keefe agreed.

"Why on Earth would you want to do this again?"

"You're just..." Keefe pressed his lips together, studying her for a moment. "You're so... different."

Stria barked out a laugh. "Oh. Oh, you did not just say that. You did not just say I'm not like other girls. I can't do this."

"Why do you have a problem with everything I say?"

"Shannon really made you like this, huh? She did. She literally did. I mean, I'm actually not that surprised, but wow. Wow."

Keefe rolled his eyes. "Oh no, me having my own personality. I can practically feel you burning with hatred."

"I am," Stria agreed.

"So are we on for next weekend?"

And for the same inexplicable reason Keefe wanted to see her again despite his fury, Stria agreed. "Fine. But we're getting milkshakes next time."

—————

I'd love to see people's guesses on who I am.

Yours are fascinating. I see an anon is fully convinced that I am Katie. I will admit, I have read fanfiction by Katie before, and Katie's writing style for KOTLC is similar to Shannon's in a lot of ways, so I've consumed a lot of KOTLC in the style in which I write it.

Perhaps I am Katie. Aren't we all Katie?

Sorry for quoting your essay twice, but it seemed like the best way to get into your head for this. I look forward to your response!

not breaking this down like i did with part one, that would simply take far too long. the people have spoken! they want more never change. anon, you're popular lmfao.

and it seems there are some people that are super invested in this, so i can create a taglist, if anyone wants to be added.

you get notes instead of a breakdown this time:

""I'm still waiting for you to tell me who Shannon is." "Your mind might explode."" it's hilarious that i refuse to tell him who shannon is . . . you should make me tell him in a future chapter. that would be so funny

not the condescending sweetie/sweet smiling/"don't worry your pretty little head over it" . . . lmfaooooo i don't do that on principle but it seems like something keefe would do. so i understand where the sentiment comes from

"Stria was internally cackling." WRONG! i was externally cackling. it was a bit concerning if i'm being honest

""I'm not trying to make this date pleasant."" did i just slip . . . i don't slip . . . not like this . . .

"You help Sophie, not by choice. She thinks it's easier to just tell you what you want to hear than argue with you. There's citations on the sheet!" there is in fact citations on the sheet. many, many citations on the sheet. anon, you're doing a fantastic job of reminding me why i hate canon keefe. also sophie exists in this strieefe fic???? where my rant where i criticize sokeefe exists? how does that work? what does she think of me?

ooooooh, you really should've had me bring up the keefe grabbing people's hands to read their emotions, including sophie herself

""It's like you're deliberately trying to misunderstand me!" Keefe exclaimed." you're making me mad at a version of keefe that isn't even technically canon anon you're working magic here

""Wow, you really need to believe that, don't you?" Stria remarked." truly i do believe keefe's friends like him. i just think that was a poor writing choice on shannon's part

""Your perspective is worse, trust me."" very much agreed. the way he thinks of sophie in his head disturbs me a bit. also fitz. but sadly i haven't gotten there yet. anon, does the physical copy i handed keefe contain the part two excerpt i released?

""Because you think the worst of everything I do! It isn't fair!"" that's not true, not that keefe would know that . . .

""Look, I'm not about to get into details about my personal relationships to some girl I barely know, but there's a lot more than what you've got written down on this paper. And if you think everyone just loves me and everything I do all the time, you're wrong."" sir . . . who initiated this again . . . anon, fantastic job making him as annoying as possible. also did keefe read my disclaimers. i specifically stated that i was only listing the bad things about him. tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk keefe. i expect better next time

"Stria almost retorted, but something about this particular brand of exasperation that he was showing made her stop. There was something oddly vulnerable about it [ . . . ]" yeah i would not care. tear the man to shreds. only time i care is when his abusive parents are brought up. i have some decency, i suppose

""Of course your friends love you [ . . . ]"" wait did i contradict myself. didn't i say that keefe needed to believe that before? was i trying to be purposefully mean? doing character analysis on myself like hmmmmm

"She didn't need to explain to him about the Pinterest KOTLC fandom. Especially since she wasn't telling him who Shannon Messenger was." NOT THE KOTLC PINTEREST FANDOM GOODBYE. ANON I'M WHEEZING. also i should tell him who shannon messenger is. i think it would be so funny

""It's my life, you know," Keefe snapped. "If you know all this random stuff about it that I don't, you should probably tell me."" actually it's sophie's life . . . why didn't i tell him that . . . and it's not his entire life it's just the things i hate with a passion :) hope this helps :)

"You sound like the Fork man when he's trying to convince Sophie she doesn't need to know who her parents are."" honestly? fair. i should tell him who shannon messenger is and watch his head explode. it would be funny

"Stria didn't like him very much, but she took that particular sore spot of his very seriously." well, clearly anon knows me decently well. this isn't helping the katie allegations

keefe: want to do this again sometime? also keefe, when he's forced to justify: ""I don't know. I hate talking to you. I hate the way this stupid essay trivializes things I genuinely struggle with."" like, sir???? that's not helping my confusion here. for what and why

wondering how you chose those two passages in particular right now. was there a reason or did you just decide to pick two at random?

""Okay then. Let's say I don't know you at all and nothing in this essay matters."" and then i walked out. the end. just kidding

NOT LIKE THE OTHER GIRLS I'M SCREAMING

""Why do you have a problem with everything I say?"" i don't, but i appreciate the unreliable narration. there are points (in everblaze, mostly) where keefe is genuinely funny

WAIT I JUST REALIZED. my rant is categorized by book. so keefe would be confused about seeing the titles, too, right? unless this canon has the rant not having the titles or something somehow

""Shannon really made you like this, huh? She did. She literally did. I mean, I'm actually not that surprised, but wow. Wow."" me when shannon writes keefe for real

""Oh no, me having my own personality. I can practically feel you burning with hatred."" not the problem. the problem is that his personality is a cringy dumpster fire :) hope this helps, keefe :)

"And for the same inexplicable reason Keefe wanted to see her again despite his fury, Stria agreed." hello i don't like how this is ending in a very unreliable narration implication way again, anon

MILKSHAKES!!!! WOO HOO!!!!

i'm hesitant to say katie is my top suspect anymore, but clearly whoever wrote this knows my brand of keefe haterism pretty well. but also isa, who's katie's best fandom friend, and at least one, possibly two, other anons think it's her. hmm. hmmmmmmm. i honestly have no idea who you could possibly be at this point, but. i guess we'll see . . . assuming you're planning on spilling the beans at some point

@myfairkatiecat tagging you again so you can either defend or implicate yourself, whichever one

the essay quoting was good :) you should keep doing it :)

#never change #keefe would not like me and i don't like him #asks #anon #but then . . . it also could be katie . . . oh this is pain #never change chapter

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byuteablanc · 10 months ago

Text

One Human and a Whole Lotta Bones! | Skeleharem x Gender Neutral Reader

—

I hope you enjoy this! If you need to find the beginning or any chapter, refer to the links at the bottom of the post!

And if you prefer to read on AO3, click on this!

—

Chapter Two: Hand Soap

Your hands were covered in coffee grounds. Of course Sans just “had to go to work” and he “was almost late” and couldn’t spare a single minute to clean up after he knocked over the container of specialty South American coffee grounds.

You made a mental note to get him back later, maybe put the coffee grounds in his slippers? Maybe in his bed? Maybe in his skull while he was sleeping? Decisions, decisions…

As you fantasized your revenge, your hands were busy with cleaning the mess. To even more detriment, these skeletons did not own not one broom in their whole house. And when you asked Sans where the broom was so that you could sweep, he asked “what’s a broom?”. So you had to get on your knees and scoop of the small mountain of coffee grounds. You didn’t know how these skeletons survived.

Your hands, now considerably dirty, needed to be cleaned. You got up and turned to the kitchen sink to clean them, only to find the soap diluted with water. You sighed, trying to make the best of it, but it was so diluted that the coffee just got watery and combined when you tried to wash it off.

Now frustrated, you decided to walk past the foyer and up the stairs to the nearest bathroom. This bathroom was shared by Edge, Stretch, and Blue, it also had diluted soap. You would think that Edge in particular would have better standards of soap to wash his hands with.

Continuing to the next bathroom, which was shared by you, Cinnabar, and Russ. There was a similar issue. You remembered that the soap was a little low this morning, Russ and Cinnabar were going to answer for their crimes as soon as they came home.

Traversing the hallway to the third-nearest bathroom which was Sans’, you would’ve usually been hesitant to enter someone’s room without their permission, but right now you were so frustrated and coffee-handed that you could care less. Despite your frustration, the same problem occurred in Sans’ bathroom. “This is ridiculous…” you muttered to yourself.

It wasn’t your first time encountering this issue. But when you’d walk about the house to another bathroom, at least the second one you went to had pure, non-ninety-percent-water hand soap.

Your last hope was Papyrus and the basement, and you had hoped with all your little human soul that Papyrus would be your salvation. That Papyrus would be the one to save you from this coffee-grounds-on-hands nightmare. You reached his bathroom and the same lack of real soap was found.

You were considering up wiping your hands on Sans’ bed sheets.

With just a sliver of PATIENCE left in you, you decided to go all the way down the stairs to the basement bathroom. You found the same problem.

You took a deep inhale, decidedly fed up with this whole ordeal.

“mornin’, sweetheart”

“Red, get your coat. We’re going to the store to buy hand soap,” you thought for a moment, “also a broom.”

“what the hell is a broom?”

—

Coffee grounds still on your hands, you were on a mission. Eyes narrowed, hands on the wheel, you took Red in your car and to the store. Red thought the whole situation was hilarious and started laughing as soon as you told him, and continued to laugh until now.

“oh! oh it hurts! hahahah!” He had your passenger seat laid back to accommodate for him. You silently noted just how large he was, which wasn’t a bad thing, just interesting. You didn’t know how a skeleton could be “large”.

“I’m glad someone is getting a kick out of this.” You remarked, rolling your eyes.

“hey doll, at least you have free car freshener after this!” he laughed, holding a hand to his would-be-stomach in pain.

“Maybe you should get car freshener? Yours always smells like mustard.” you shivered in the memory. You and Red arrived home at the same time one evening and when he opened his door to speak to you, you got punched in the face with the smell of the mentioned tangy yellow paste. It was so potent that it threw you back a little like how a small tidal wave would.

“i would want nothin’ better than to be surrounded by golden delicious,” he recalled fondly, getting a dreamy look to him. This seemed to knock him out of his laughing spell however, which you were grateful for.

Face contorting into a look of disgust, “You have odd tastes.”

“don’t knock it tell ya’ try it, doll. you might just find yourself in love.”

“Over my dead body.”

“don’ threaten me with a good time.”

You shot him a look of surprise mixed with excuse-me-what-the-fuck-did-you-just-say. Acutely noticing your rage, his lackadaisical smile turned nervous. “s-sorry sweetheart! i didn’ mean it! h-honest!” he had his hands up in defense.

Satisfied with his apology, you turned your attention back to the road. After this, a somewhat thick tension began to settle between the two of you. You ignored it, not caring about the lack of talking. It allowed you to focus on the road better anyways.

“soooo, what’s school like?” he muttered, trying to ease the tension.

“Tiring at times, but otherwise it’s educational I guess? It’s just learning so that I have better opportunities, not much to it.” You shrugged, getting closer and closer to your destination.

From your peripheral vision, it looked like he furrowed his brows. “well, ain’t it fun at least? i would think school was interactive and entertainin’, what otha’ way would there be ta’ learn?”

Did he not experience school before? “Much of the opposite, especially in graduate school. Maybe it’s fun in elementary, but after that stage, learning becomes more and more tedious.”

You took a glance to his face, he was frowning, usual smile now crooked. “that sounds awful…”

You shrugged. “It is what it is. I mean, have you ever experienced school before?”

“no”

Your eyes widened in surprise, turning to him just slightly. “So you don’t have an education? Like not even kindergarten?”

“first of all, i do “have an education”. like i know pemdas and how to read and whatnot. second of all, what the hell is “kindergarten”?” he stated sassily, enunciating the “r” in kindergarten for emphasis. He might’ve even sounded a little offended.

“Kindergarten is the first stage of systematic schooling young kids go through, well that’s if you don’t count preschool. Did monsters not have a school system for their society?” you raised a brow. Your knowledge on the underground was incredibly sparse, forged on small snippets on what Cinnabar already told you that you just happened to remember. You usually didn’t like to ask about it, because the underground seemed to be not so great for any of your roommates to discuss openly.

“well, uh, we didn’… i mean we… everything that we uhh…” his eyelights got darker and darker.

Well now you felt bad.

“Sorry for asking, just disregard what I said.” You waved to him, attempting to soothe the tension and absolve your guilt.

Here comes that familiar tension. You exhaled in result. You noticed that with Fell and Edge in particular, that whenever the Underground came up they quickly became tense. You were somewhat concerned, always wanting to ask what was wrong. But since you weren’t close, you always defaulted to an apology and running away to leave them alone. Only now, you were stuck right in this small confined metal space on wheels.

“It would seem like we’re here!” You said quickly, thanking the universe that you had something to say. Your announcement also knocked Fell out of his trance and within a blink of an eye, his light returned to his eyes.

“now i’ll finally see what a broom is,” he chuckled, acting as if he wasn’t just a little rattled.

“You’re probably going to be disappointed in the results honestly. It’s not too interesting.”

“oh doll, any dumb human shit is interesting to me.”

—

“you were right this is borin’.”

You stood before the mighty cyan broom with white bristles, hung up against the white peg board. You were in the housekeeping section of the store. You had now wished you double checked what these skeletons also didn’t have before you came here.

You chuckled. “I told you so.”

“i mean, humans got to live on the surface for years and some loser created somethin’ that’s only used to sweep stuff up? you all couldn’t think of anythin’ else?” He asked, disappointed.

You shrugged for like the third time today. “Humans are practical, not at all fun like you guys.”

“well that’s fa true!”

You slowly furrowed your brows, turning before him. “‘well that’s for true’?” You repeated back to him, amused.

Red seemed confused. “yea, what about it?”

“And you say you have an education.”

Now it was his turn to give you a glare.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

He sighed, taking the broom from where it was hanging. “What’s next on our list, scholar?”

Jeez this not being educated thing really seemed to strike a chord. “We need hand soap as you might recall.” You showed your hands for emphasis, which were still covered in coffee grounds.

“heheheheh yeah.” he giggled.

You continued on your journey to obtain the gilded hand soap, Red in tow, definitely debating whether or not to poke you with the head of the broom.

You looked all around the store to any section otherwise applicable to where hand soap might be and you couldn’t find any. This was your worst nightmare. Red seemed to enjoy your misery, but was not happy with all the walking you two were doing all over the store.

You ended up approaching an employee about it. They were a small monster that looked like cat or a dog, either was fair game honestly. They had white fur, and were wearing a yellow and light blue striped shirt with a little green vest that has their name tag. ‘*Temmie*,’ you read, ‘*Interesting name*.’

“Hello, Temmie is it? Where might the hand soap be?”

“Hoi! I am TEMMIE! I wok heRe! yayA!”

You heard Red snickering behind you, more at your situation than the store employee.

“Wonderful, but do you know where the hand soap is?” You asked again, trying to be polite.

“buy temmie flakes! me went to cooleg for sails!”

You frowned just a smidge. Red was shaking with how much he was containing his laughter.

“Hey, Mx. ! I can help you!” Said a voice.

Finally someone helpful!

You turned behind you to see another little dog or cat creature thing. Their green vest read “Bob”.

“Sorry about my colleague, you were requesting hand soap correct?” You nodded. “I see you’re in the home goods section. Did you look in the sanitization section?” You nodded again. “The kids section?” You nodded again. “Even the utilities section?” You felt like your head might pop off with how much you were nodding.

“Oh great Asgore! I‘ll look in the back and see if we have any.” Bob said, quickly turning a corner to go look.

Red was smiling. “the day can’t get easier for you huh, doll?” You simply sighed in reply, hunching over in hopefully-short-lived defeat. “you sure have a latte on your plate.”

You giggled a little at that. This situation was too stupid not to. Red seemed to beam at this a little, becoming considerably more perky in demeanor. “i mean, if i was in your situation, i would’ve bean home and given up by now.”

Your giggling turned to chuckles. He continued gleefully. “i would be a little depresso if i was you right now.”

You began to laugh out loud, surprising Red and making him laugh too. You could see through squinted eyes a small dusty red blush form on his cheeks.

After a moment of laughing, your energy died down. You looked at him, giving him eye contact. “Thank you Red, I appreciated that.”

His face suddenly bursted with red, but then quickly faded as he looked away from you. “n-no problem, sweetheart! anytime! if you ever need a couple of laughs, i’m the funniest monster around.”

You looked at him with mock skepticism. “Now don’t sell yourself too long, Red.”

He began to wear an expression of mock offense. “what? i make ya feel better and that’s how ya do me? you might as well rip my SOUL to pieces, doll.”

You giggled at his silliness, putting a hand up to your mouth. You then heard foot steps coming your way, it was Bob!

“Sorry, but we don’t have any hand soap in the back. And I made sure I looked, we are out out.”

You sighed, shoulders falling. “I appreciate you looking, thank you for helping me.”

Admitting defeat, you take Red to the self checking aisle to purchase your broom.

—

Now back home, hands stiffened by dried sticky coffee grounds, you sat in the den. Red went somewhere, probably to his room. You were alone.

Until Cinnabar came in and saw you.

“You’re home early.” You remarked.

“And You Have Coffee Grounds On Your Hands… Why?” He replied, raising a brow.

You sighed, being reminded of your predicament. “The house doesn’t have any hand soap for me to use to wash it off, and when I went to go buy some with Red, the store had run out.”

“Ahhh…” He hummed in response, brows furrowed for just a moment in something other than thought. “Did You Look In Our Supply Closet?”

You didn’t know they had one of those. “You guys have a supply closet?”

He playfully rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip. “C’mon Y/n, We’re Not Savages!”

Well until today, two of them had no idea what a broom was so you wouldn't put savage past them.

Decidedly leaving that detail out, you raise your eyebrow in skepticism. Cinnabar sighs and softly grabs your wrist, deliberately avoiding your hands, taking you to the supply closet close to the kitchen.

You could cry right then and there. There was hand soap! Finally you could wash your crusty hands and finally go back to your soft, supple skin! “Thank you so much Cinnabar!” You take a bottle of soap and run to the kitchen sink.

“No Problem Dearest!” He yells to you as you ran, giggling at your enthusiasm.

—

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