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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years ago

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Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

#måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin #damiano david imagine #damiano david #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio

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iamnmbr3 · 3 years ago

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Hey! This is a bizarre ask but hopefully a welcome one after *gestures at the destruction and fire*. I’m completely new to the Loki/thorki fandom, having essentially come in via the exit door by watching the Loki tv series first. I was honestly just watching it for junk value to have something in the background while I knit. However, when I realized that I didn’t understand anything by the middle of Ep. 1, I went back to watch Thor 1 so I could get what was going on. And HOLY SHIT I was utterly captivated by Loki’s character in the original movie, as well as by the Loki-Thor and Odin family dynamics. I’ve now watched through the films and have been increasingly disappointed by the portrayal of Loki (since Avengers 1 frankly) save a few glimmers of good characterization here and there.

I can’t believe that I’m getting myself into another queer coded (and now more than coded wtf) “villain” with a tragic backstory who’s done dirty by the fandom at large, but here we are! I’m also super into thorki because goddamn… they sure do have a Dynamic™.

So I guess my question is, what is actually good here? I feel like I’ve been trying to fight my way back to Kenneth Branagh!Loki, and have been largely unsuccessful within canon content. Do you have suggestions for a newcomer re: fics, fanart, and meta that actually treats Loki seriously? (and thorki as well?)

Hey! Welcome! Sorry about the mess *gestures at the garbage fire that is the TVA Show The Larry Show The "Loki" Show*

And this isn't a bizarre ask at all. It was really nice to receive actually! And yeah! I'm so glad you went back and watched the originals. The TV Show character is a completely new character played by the same actor who has nothing in common with the original character (who yes is absolutely fascinating and captivating and multilayered). Honestly I just think of the tv character as Larry, Loki's dumb lookalike cousin bc they have nothing in common lol. So glad the show led to you discovering good content...and thorki. And yeah Thor 2011 is amazing! It's so underrated. If you want meta relating to that and also just gushing about the film you can def check out my Thor 2011 tag.

My thorki tag of course has thorki stuff including art etc. I've also got an art tag which has both thorki and non-thorki works. If you want fic recs you can look in my fic rec tag which has a bunch of good stuff both thorki and gen.

Also here are some good thorki fics to start out with that I've really enjoyed. Most are ones I read early on when I just discovered the ship. Also @illwynd has a great thorki blog btw that you should def check out (and also their sideblog @throwbackthorki). Edit: I’ve also added some gen fic recs.

Thorki Fic Recs:

Chaos War by astolat (words: 34,203 | rating: E)

It was never easy to find Loki when he wanted to hide, but he wasn't doing a particularly good job of it at the moment. Probably he didn't think anyone from Asgard would be wasting their time hunting for him while the shining ones churned their way steadily through all the realm.

Loyalty at Any Price by seidrade (words: 22,663 | rating: E )

“This whole time, I’ve been searching the Nine Realms— alone— for answers to questions I barely know how to ask. I thought Heimdall at his watch, our father upon the throne, and most grievously… I thought you lost to me forever.” Thor’s resurgence of anger gives way to something like despair. He can’t tell whether he wants to pummel Loki into one giant bruise, or hold him and weep like a child.

When Thor returns to Asgard and exposes Loki’s deception, his demands for answers and Loki’s reluctance to give them soon bubble over into a cathartic confrontation.

Born to be Kings by Kadorienne (words: 66,618 | rating: T)

When the princes of Asgard made their ill-fated jaunt to Jotunheim, Odin arrived to fetch them before the frost giant grabbed Loki's arm. Odin was able to carry out his plan to make Loki his puppet king of Jotunheim. But how long will Loki remain an obedient puppet?

Yidrigar by epistolic (words: 5,174 | rating: M)

Sometimes I am envious, but never doubt that I love you.

The Heavy Crown by orphan_account (words: 10,024 | Rating: M )

Odin is dead. Loki must take up the mantle of King even as war threatens Asgard, Thor remains bereft of both Mjolnir and his immortality, and stress coupled with the knowledge of his heritage drives Loki to the brink.

No Common Thing by ravenbringslight (words: 8,283 | rating: E)

Loki follows Thor to a brothel and gets the shock of his life.

On the Eagle's Wings by illwynd (words: 2,975 | rating: T )

After Loki falls from the Bifrost, Thor begins to write him letters every day.

How long we were fooled by Ark (words: 28,227 | rating: E )

Loki is not a good man, he knows; there is something rotten in the core of him; and even a much better man might let Thor kiss him, since Thor still tastes of sizzling lightning, like gathering rain, like a desire so fierce and so awful to him that when released it could bring Asgard to its knees.

sunshine by thorvaenn (words: 18,257 | rating: E )

A post Infinity War fluffy piece.

Thor and Loki are among those who are trying to pick up the pieces, but must first fix each other.

Edit: And Some Gen Fic Recs too:

lose my idols to find my voice by Lise (words: 1,548 | rating: T)

This is no homecoming.

monstrare by Lise (words: 1,174 | T )

Loki is Asgard's second prince, brother to Thor, son of Odin and Frigga.

Isn't he?

farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear by Lise (words: 3,113 | rating: T)

Loki and the terrible, horrible, no good, very long delayed reckoning.

Five Times Loki Could Have Been A Villain by Kadorienne (words: 3,344 | rating: G | Character Death)

Five AUs where Loki is not a mere antagonist, but an actual villain.

He would have acted very differently.

When It Sings, When It Lies by dreamsthebirds (words: 14,145 | rating: G)

Thor AU, based on an awesome norsekink prompt for a scenario in which Heimdall doesn't open the Bifrost to Jotunheim, Odin doesn't ride to the rescue, and Loki is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Interdimensional journeys, shattering emotional revelations, and walking trees ensue.

Ichor in Violet by tirsynni (Words: 14,574 | rating: T)

When Thor learns that Loki can travel to other realms without Heimdall seeing, of course he convinces Loki to take them both to Jotunheim to hunt Frost Giants. There an accident unravels centuries of lies and threatens to unravel Loki, too.

The Sinking Feeling of Anticipation by JaggedCliffs (words: 8,624 | rating: G)

When Æsir come of age, they receive a gift from their parents, one meant to aid them in their adult lives. When a prince of Asgard comes of age, their gifts are not just for themselves, but for the realm.

Loki watched Thor receive Mjolnir at his coming of age ceremony – one of the greatest weapons in the realms, for one of its greatest warriors. Now, it's Loki's turn, and he knows Odin will grant him something just as magnificent.

Won't he?

Exsanguination by Lise (words: 8,610 | rating: G)

exsanguination /ex·san·gui·na·tion/ v.intr. To be drained of blood. (And all the rest.)

#asks #fic rec #thorki #thorki fic rec #thunderfrost #Loki #Thor #Marvel #MCU #loki fic rec #loki fic #loki tv series #loki show #Loki Series critical

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namisthecoolest · 3 years ago

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Part II - "One step forward, two steps back."

Gwyn couldn't sleep. How could she after all that has happened ? Mindlessly her hand went to grasp for the necklace but ended up clutching air instead. The tightening in her throat, that she was trying really hard to get rid of, intensified. Mind stilling didn't work and now she lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. She can't stay alone, not with her mind wandering off to places she doesn't want to go. She quickly got up and wore her leathers. That's what she has been doing for the past few months when she waked up breathless with tear stains on her cheeks and a silent scream lodged in her throat. Go up to the House of Wind and train until she's numb of the pain, both physical and emotional one. It was the night of the past years Winter Solstice when the Shadowsinger first found her training in the middle of the night trying to cut the ribbon. That was the first time they had a real conversation rather than him barking orders and teaching her techniques during training.

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When the Shadowsinger landed on the balcony that night Gwyn was surprised because she thought everyone was going to be staying at the High Lord and Ladys river estate. She started apologizing when he cut her off saying he came to retrieve something he left behind. It was like any other night. Her waking up finding herself in darkness and covered in sweat. She didn't think twice before changing and headed up. Every muscle of her body was aching at first but now all is numb and she welcomed it.

"I forgot something. "

She knew he was lying so instead of calling him out she asked, "At two in the morning? "

His eyes shone amusement when he replied with, "I can't sleep without my favorite dagger. "

"A comfort to every growing child. "

They talked a little more before she asked.

"Do you sing?"

Gwyn doesn't know what had posessed her. It could either be the cold got to her head or she was so desperate to divert her mind that she clutched to the first thing she thought of. But it was a question she had in her mind ever since she had heard his title. But that's what it was supposed to be. In her mind not out in the open and especially not in front of HIM. But they were talking and she already asked it and there's no going back so now all she could do is wait for the answer.

He went silent for a second before asking, "Why do you ask? "

"They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing? "

"I am a shadowsinger-It's not a title that someone just made up. "

Well that doesn't answer her question so she shrugged and asked again. "Do you though.... Sing? "

He eyed her peculiarly before the corner of his lips tipped up and let loose a low sound which sounded an awful lot like a laugh. HOLY SHIT SHE MADE THE AZRIEL, SPYMASTER OF THE NIGHT COURT, LAUGH. She was still reeling from her achievement and that's why she could barely register his answer.

"Yes."

Well now she was more curious. She opened her mouth to ask more but was cut short when he corrected her techique on using the blade. Well she couldn't be of blame when all Cassian does nowadays is make googly eyes at Nesta and she said as much to the Shadowsinger, who unsurprisingly agreed. They think they are doing a great job at hiding it but are failing awfully because even a blind person could sense the heat and intensity crackling between them whenever they are near each other.

"Happy Solstice. Don't stay out too much longer. You'll freeze.", he said and left when she nodded and she went back to trying to cut that Motherforbidden ribbon knowing she won't be going back until the heaviness in her heart felt a little lighter.

That night she went back to her dorm later than anticipated. She was on her way up to the priestess's dorm halls when she stopped in her tracks when she thought she heard a familiar voice. She followed the voice to Clotho's desk where she saw the Shadowsinger slide something to Clotho on her desk. She wasn't close enough to hear the whole exchange, but she saw him nodding and then he left. She thought he was probably here for some official business and didn't think much of it. The next day she got the necklace from Clothos with a note saying a friend left it for her. For the first time in a long time the tightness in her chest loosened a bit for her to breathe freely for a few seconds. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever received. A rose pendant that shined every time it moved. So this is what Azriel was doing in the library last night. But he didn't want her to know it was from him. Why? Without thinking much of it she put the necklace on and smiled the whole day.

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Fastening her hair in a braid her eyes caught the black cloak in the corner of her closet. She gulped thinking of the circumstances she and the Shadowsinger had first met and what she had found---NO NO she will not think of it. Her eyes were watering again and so she quickly got out of her room and went up the stairs. When she reached the balcony the sun was already peeking from the horizon. She stared at the sky while it changed its colors in various shades. She took a large breath forcing the fog in her mind to clear.

She had slapped him. For what? Because he had given her a gift meant for another? Fuck. She lost it when she finally processed what Elain was saying last night.

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Elain was staring at something below her face. Her necklace. She smiled remembering who gave it to her and touched the rose.

"Isn't it pretty? " , she asked her still smiling.

"Yes.Very.May I ask how you got it? "

Strange she had thought. Elain and Gwyn never talked. Now all of a sudden she had approached her and asked about the necklace.

"A friend left it for me at the library. " Not the complete truth but if Azriel wanted it to be anonymous and the least she could do is respect his wishes.

"Huh, it looks exactly the same one I had returned to Azriel last Solstice. "

Gwyn's blood went cold. "What? ".She hated how her voice cracked.

"Oh... Azriel had given it to me as a Solstice present. I had returned it of course. But it looks like he found someone else to give it to. "

The necklace suddenly felt like a heavy chain on her neck. Her eyes watered from what?....hurt. The necklace that gave her solace a while ago now was the reason of her heart being gripped painfully. She stood there frozen, until she couldn't take it anymore. Ripping the necklace from her neck she shoved it in Elain's hand who took it with a stone cold face. When she whirled around to leave she came face to face with the cause of her tears. Azriel......how could he do this to her? He gave her a gift as an... afterthought? Someone who would happily take something rejected by another? Someone to be pitied? Is that what he thought of her?. Him standing there with wide eyes didn't help the roaring that grew by the second in her head. She slapped him with all her strength and fled from the spot telling him to never speak to her again.

Mor had found her outside the throne room. She took one look at Gwyn's face and winnowed her back to the library. She was very thankful for her to not question why she was crying. Mor ensured Gwyn had safely reached her dorm and took her leave.

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Gwyn doesn't know how long she has been staring at the horizon. Apparently long enough for the birds to start chirping and the sun to fully come up. Rubbing her face with her hands she groaned internally. She had lashed at him for something he was not at fault of. It was her fault. She placed her expectations too high for someone like her. A priestess who was violated in ways that cannot be undone and carried baggage more than she can endure. She thought she meant something to the Spymaster of the Night Court. She thought they had been friends after all the late night training sessions they had after the first one and the jabs they threw at eachother every now and then. She was nothing more to him but his student. What was she thinking? Of course he deserved someone like Elain- beautiful, innocent, unstained....perfect. She has to get that through her head. Even if it meant she has to press down her feelings towards him. The ones she would never dare now to indulge in. How was she going to face him now? But she has to try to make things try. After all he still is her trainer and she doesn't want things to be awkward. Determined to set things in their righful place, which also included her expectations which was too high for her own good, she took a deep breath.

"I'm the rock against which the surf crashes ~inhale~ Nothing can break me. ~exhale~ ", she whispered to herself and the world around. With renewed strength she turned around. She let out a humorless laugh and thought the Mother has a wicked sense of humor by---her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she saw HIM standing on top of the stairs, his gaze focused solely on her. She hardened herself.

"Shadowsinger."

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #nessian #nesta archeron #the night court #feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #elain archeron #acosf #acomaf #acowar

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paint-music-with-me · 2 years ago

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ok so

i’ve been thinking about what i want in s2 bc what else can i do while i wait for saturday to come and literally destroy me???

and i realized that i am hoping for so much in s2

usually in sequel series/seasons, i feel like so much potential is lost after building so much in s1 and im worried about it happening to KP

but right now? what they have so far? i think they could build a really good s2 - they just need to keep their priorities in check

ive not read the novels (and i don’t plan to) but ultimately what i think may or even should happen is:

kim and chay don’t get resolved -> leads to the major (emotional) conflict btwn KP bc i feel like porsche will have to decide how to move forward with chay and kinn who are on two different sides: one wants porsche out of the mafia world and the other wants him by his side. i think the tension btwn them will heighten everything for whatever plot they may throw into the mix that involves the mafia.

then from there, there could be more tension from kim and chay as kim tries to reconcile with chay but maybe he gets on the bad side of porsche when he finds out about what happened btwn the two of them?? so more tension??? maybe kim does some reckless stuff as he contemplates his actions and what kind of person he is (idk analysis but maybe he thought he was different from the mafia; that rather than destroy, he’d create but in the end he broke his own heart and chay’s)

ultimately im saying i need more kimchay scenes bc holy shit wow....they didn’t have a lot of scenes together?? it’s why i was soooo confused abt how chay can just say “ily” so fast (but then again chay does wear his heart on his sleeve) after they spent a couple of sessions of tutoring together like i need moreeee

also obvi while all this internal turmoil shit is happening btwn these four, let’s add more tension where pete is all conflicted and emotionally constipated about his place, his role, his personhood as vegas also tries to rebuild the minor family from the ground up (maybe throw in some... idk like i heard vegas had a stepmother but she bailed when Kan died - but imagine what’d it be like if she was a rising boss who wanted to take over - maybe that’d bring an interesting conflict for kinn and vegas to start working together?? which brings pete and vegas more scenes to interact unwillingly??? and also venice potential??? but also gods i dnt want a baby brought into this shit aaahhhh) idk man

and like all of this gotta be paced out nicely like now they’ve got 3 couples intermingling w/ e/o so it gotta be evened out just a bit *sigh*

wow...

all of this to say...

i need angst in s2 but i need it to be good - i need it to literally eat me from the inside out with anticipation and fear for what’s to come. no bullshit love triangle, no half-assed B plot line, no stupid mafia war shit that’s not even worth fighting over. No. I need blood-pumping, heart-pounding, rage-inducing, tear-ridden vibes from s2 or i’ll seek out blood myself my dudes holy shit

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borkthemork · 3 years ago

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BorkMork’s Amphibia Fanfiction Recommendations

There are so many absolutely fantastic fics out there, so these will be generalized. They could be character studies, one-shots, anything that was able to pull in my interest and leave me an absolute mess.

I won’t be tagging the authors here because I don’t want to bother them, but if any of you do know them feel free to tell them that their creativity and works are lovely, and that they have made my day ever brighter.

Anyways, let us begin.

Any Work by MayDayGirl_Save_Our_Ships

Okay so I was part of the Amphibia fandom back when it first aired. And back then there weren’t that many fics even though I was craving to see more focus on the Plantar Family and how much they mean to Anne, and overall character studies. So when I read Two Truths and a Lie, the characterization pulled me and it still aged well regardless of the new info we got about these characters today.

Years later and I am pleasantly surprised to see that the characterization once again swings and succeeds with the other fics MayDay has created. I laughed, I yelled, I felt numerous feelings for the Plantar family, and I would highly recommend their content.

bloom by dragondawdles

I haven’t been here when I saw the boom in Newtopia fics, but I had a massive craving to see Marcy fics when she first arrived in the city. Dragondawdles pulled me into this fic immediately with their prose, the characterization of Marcy and Lady Olivia, and also the really cute doodle that accompanied the story itself.

It gave me everything I wanted, and to see Marcy be curious over Lady Olivia made me ponder even more about how they acted toward each other. Overall, a cute one-shot!

Any Work by DeeTheTeaDrinkingDragon

There is something gentle about the tiniest touches, of well-done prose and filling in the potential blanks. I first read Constellations when I scoured around for some Marcanne content, and this one was the softest cuddling fic I had ever witnessed with my eyes.

It was vivid, very visually stimulating in its wholesome atmosphere, and I couldn’t get enough of it. Also, Dee’s Stay was able to check off everything I speculated for Marcanne in Season Three so me and my friend were yelling loudly over that. Would recommend them!

Any Work by feebop

I love character studies. I love authors who can pull me into the narrative through dialogue and description. Put it all together and you get feebop’s Starlit Review and Painted Yellow Lines.

Honestly, I reread them just because I feel so inspired by the attention to detail and the prose itself, they’re that good. And being able to see character studies between Marcy and Sasha always left me satisfied. I cannot recommend their stuff enough!

Any Work by mira_blue

That’s right, more character studies! Mira_blue has a few fics already but my absolute favorites would be her stuff on Marcy and Sasha, because those left me to speculate about those two more than anything, and it’s always lovely to see people’s takes while keeping the people in-character.

This Is Home is dear, because damn you can definitely get me emotionally wrecked in under 1,500 words and this is a great example.

Dance With Me by Hugh Jidiot

Long fics here we go. It took a bit to get me into Dance With Me, but when I finally had to time to read it I was absolutely pulled into Marcy and Anne being absolute disasters while trying to get ready for a massive social event. There are a lot of laughs, lots of events being filled in-between, and some study into Marcy’s thought process when it comes to socializing with people.

Few key comments on the fic itself. It took a while to get used to the newt ocs but they became absolutely enjoyable as things went on, and my favorite would be Fiona, just saying.

Also the practice dance scene was the hardest I’ve laughed in 2021 so thank you, Hugh, for this beautiful piece.

Any Work by Mighty_Ant

Fill-in-the-blank fics are always fun, but man Mighty_Ant knows how to write these so well, especially when it comes to what is basically the physical representation of emotional as heck music.

Reading the fics always flowed well to me when I narrated to myself, and you could tell the person is a professional writer with the amount of techniques used to emotionally fuck me up, especially Sasha’s story.

Thank you, Mighty_Ant, and I can’t wait for your Marcy fic!

Is She Really Your Daughter? by red_lensed_glasses

Do you ever just want to read a fic about Anne’s parents and their perspective of Marcy? And then cry? For hours? This fic is for you.

It’s such a really interesting take when it comes to how the Boonchuys perceive Marcy, and the ending got me very, and I mean very, upset for really good reasons. This fic is a recommendation, I love it!

Anne 2.0 by mandaree1

I always wondered if Anne ever got a scar from, y’know, breaking her arm, so this was a delight to read when it came to Marcy’s POV of the situation. You get Marcy being an analytical nerd in her writing style — in an intriguing second-person, no less — and it’s just really good!

Heron by TheDinosaurNerd

I stumbled upon this fic while I was looking for some Grime and Sasha one-shots, and I really liked the dialogue found in this! Very succinct, to-the-point, but in said succinctness you are able to form a really well-done fill-in-the-blanks story.

not delivered. by camomile_t

God. This is one of the big ole’ fics in this fandom that is keeping me alive throughout the hiatus, I love text fics when done well, especially when they utilize the features and limitations to basically do storytelling, and this is one of those examples. Cause holy shit.

This fic takes any theories about what could happen in Season Three and goes the limit. You get Marcanne, you get a well-done mix of comedy and angst, you get Sasha having her redemption, you get the Plantars/Boonchuys being a supportive family, and a lot more!

I binged the hell out of this and kept up with each update with much eager anticipation. You have no clue, my friend and I keep speculating and theorizing in DMs over this fic. It is so good.

There Will Be No Dancing by PartlyCloudySkies

I have read this fic so many times. Ten? Twenty? I don’t know, but I keep coming back to this just because of how well-written it is. When I tell you that this fic plays out like a legitimate Amphibia episode, I absolutely mean it.

This fic is an Amphibia episode from some alternate universe and is now given to us on a silver platter.

And for what????? We were given to this free and we’re supposed to take it with no complaints?????? Understandable, have a good day. I can’t.

You get amazing pacing, a writing style that fits Anne’s perspective to a T, dialogue and comedy logic that hits what Amphibia is all about, and you also get two girls being gay in Newtopia. What’s not to love?

Go read it. Do it. Put a comment. I don’t know what you do, but just acknowledge the fact that this fic has ruined the shit out of me and now I cannot recover, ever.

#amphibia #marcanne #amphibia spoilers #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright

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shimmershae · 3 years ago

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My thoughts on Episode 9--No Other Way

As always, placed behind a cut for those of you that would rather escape my babbling, lol. You’re welcome.

Okay.

It took a minute for my app to wake up. It didn’t get the memo to rise and shine at 4 am like the rest of us--how much do I hate that work has trained my body to wake up at a set time everyday, no matter whether I want to or not, lol--but I guess it served me well in the end so.

Anywho. I had a bit of a wait. Thus, time to think and let my brain get with the program and during this little siesta, I mulled whether my anticipation had ultimately been outweighed or overshadowed by dread thanks to the ongoing OTT celebrations from certain factions of fans.

Spoiler alert: turns out I really and truly don’t trust their judgment for shit, never have, and I’m too ready to see our babies to care about their never-ending hate campaign. 10/10 recommend this attitude to everybody. It saves a whole lotta grief.

Enough lead in. Y’all ready? In 3-2-1. Shae’s stream of consciousness review coming right at ya.

Okay, okay. Maggie’s getting tossed around like a ragdoll by a big, burly NFL linebacker retiree/Reaper while those Angry Birds fireworks spears are screaming past her like missiles. Cool opening. Cool. Whoa. Is that what they call making a splashy entrance? Or a dramatic AF exit?

Well holy shit. Just when did it change from me rolling my eyes and stifling a groan whenever I see Negan to breathing out a sigh of relief and feeling--I don’t know. I wouldn’t call it happy exactly but I know at least he’s gonna spice up Maggie’s scenes so there’s that. I will say though. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed JDM--big difference, big distinction, what have you--until I saw his scruffy mug so yeah. We’re gonna admit my crush (lifelong, lol, thanks to Denny, my beloved) is still going strong. ; )

Personally, I think the mere fact Negan hasn’t ditched Elijah and run to save his own hide is earning him some reluctant, perhaps subconscious, definitely unwanted brownie points with Mags.

I’ve always wanted a secret door to somewhere, lol, so that secret door in the infirmary delighted me much more than it should have. I blame my love of A Secret Garden as a child.

Ahhhhh! I’ve missed the opening credits and the theme song and hearing it and knowing we’re essentially on a countdown to the last time is making me emotional. It really is. That said, I do still prefer the original opening credits and would love if the show went all “retro” for the finale and had a new “old” version again. Just to tie things up in a neat little bow of nostalgia. It’ll never happen but oh how I wish it would.

That shot of Rosita and Lydia going all Buffy the Vampire Slayer on the stair Walkers was simple but badass. Love the girl power. Oh and Dianne lives! Only to die? We shall see.

The fuck do those things want in the basement so bad anyway? Do Judith and Gracie smell like a couple of walking chicken nuggets to them? A late night Taco Bell Cravings Box? You’d think they’d be most interested in all the people they keep trying to convince us are upstairs.

Anyway. Moving on.

Yeah, no. Make that 4 feet of water in the basement make sense. I’ll wait.

Jerry! Aaron! Oh wow. My girl Carol looking beautiful as ever! Listen. Would I have liked to SEE her working with the superheroine sisters to save the walls? Hell yeah. But I’ll take what I can get because I was honestly afraid they were just gonna allude to her whereabouts offscreen after the shoddy treatment our leading lady got in 11A.

Kelly being so reluctant to leave her sister’s side. My heart. I love them.

Gracie’s whistle! Aka, the call to the Undead Wild. But whatever. Baby girl got some lung power for Daddy Aaron to hear it over the storm. Or maybe he just got Daddy ears and could hear that whistle anywhere like a dog hearing a dog whistle. Yet more proof Aaron is half Golden Retriever/half human.

Carol, Kelly, and Jerry are my kind of trio. I’d follow them anywhere.

Well. At least it’s partly cloudy with what looks like a chance of rain later at Meridian, lol.

Father G--still hobbling to fight another day.

Daryl--is that what they call a knife to the gut (sorry, lame, I know)?

It’s been so long since I bothered to watch any of the boring Reaper bullshit that I don’t remember if Austin is significant to Daryl’s latest prisoner/fake turncoat arc or not. Kudos to the Reaper outside that door for dropping that name for me. Other than asshole Carver, I can’t distinguish one from the other.

Leah legit sours my throat with bile. Maybe that’s what Angela Kang was going for. I don’t know. Someone forgot to send LCol the memo though. Or else she immediately deleted it sight unseen for plausible deniability. Even her voice triggers that upheaval response. Ugh.

Side note: I actually feel bad for these dudes playing Reapers. Unproblematically excited as far as I know and their story went over like a lead balloon.

Daddy Aaron to the rescue! Whoa. Cool underwater shot with that Walker kill. He saved our little girls. Whew. For a minute there I was worried about Judith. Insert eyeroll emoji. Judith handled that situation like a champ. I was worried for Gracie, full stop, but at least it looks like they decided to spare Aaron. Well, maybe not. Oh shit.

“Worry about yourself first.” LMAO. Father Savage is back, y’all. Reaper priest almost had him. Or did he? “No oneis above saving?” Hmm.

Maggie being chased by Carver like the final girl. Methinks she’s leading him into a trap. At least I hope so.

Really though? A bat? Negan, man. Choose another weapon. Anyway. I do love the teamwork but you know that’s gotta be triggering AF.

“Well. Ding, ding.” The way that made me LMAO. It’s all in JDM’s delivery, y’all. Think I’m gonna steal that for later.

Maggie’s reluctant acknowledgment of gratitude to Negan is enough. I’m tired of the retread dialogue but she owes him nothing she doesn’t want to give. He gleefully murdered her husband. The father of their unborn child. He can keep trying to prove he’s changed but IMHO? If she doesn’t want to accept it? She doesn’t have to.

The Elijah dude really made me feel his pain over his sister with just his face and no words so kudos.

C’mon, now. I thought people were saying Daryl was yelling “Don’t” to Maggie about Leah. LOL. I mean, did LCol plant that suggestion to make it look like Daryl actually still give a shit?

Smart move to use Carver. Least I think. We’ll see.

Listen. Team Family climbing around like Olympic Champion monkeys this ep. I could never. Don’t have the arm strength, lol. I’d be like that squirrel trying to climb that greased pole to the bird feeder. Y’all know the one.

Lydia saved Aaron? My baby girl. Oh my heart. Wonder if this will change or move the needle somewhat on my boy’s perception that no Whisperer is worth saving or that they’re all bad? Lydia saying “You would have done the same for me” truly made me pause because despite knowing his misgivings, knowing the times he hasn’t full on embraced her as family and one of their own, she still believes in his good heart, and it makes me cry for her. That trust. I loved the little pause on Aaron’s part before he answered her. It’s almost like he didn’t realize he actually would and was surprised. Anyway. I think Lydia’s finally earned her standing with Aaron as one of the family and I could honestly see him going full protection mode for her in the future.

Where is Dog in all this chaos? Gnawing on some milk bones? I hope he’s warm, dry, and well fed. Little traitor, lol.

Yeah, Leah’s a duplicitous bitch.

Why does this feel like some kind of Western duel or standoff?

“Nope. No Jenson/Jentzen (sp?) here.” LMAO. I do love me some savage ass Father G. “Call me Gabriel.” Negan’s face SENT me.

Fucking go, Maggie. I loved the dramatic music that accompanied that little piece of deserved and earned brutality. ;) Never mind I don’t know who the hell Elijah was talking about because they redshirts. The world is down a bunch more boring ass Reapers and Negan knows he better toe some kind of line.

Dammit, Daryl. You dumbass. She deserved DEATH not BREATH.

There my boy Dog magically is. Thank goodness they didn’t have Leah use him against Daryl in their ugly breakup. My heart couldn’t have handled it.

Maggie knows Alden’s dead. C’mon. That’s why she went alone. They finally decided to remember the poor dude. Adam has had so many sets of parents. Maybe Commonwealth has some kind of support group for that.

All those crosses. Ouch.

Negan ain’t wrong. Maggie gonna do what Maggie gonna do. There goes any levity or tension to Maggie’s story, but you know what? I’m here for it because your girl is TIRED of them having the same scene different verse over and over again.

Carol looking out and watching for her bae like Daryl did after spending all night on that log with Negan and looking mighty fine doing it, I might add. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but did they raid a Cabela’s in between reinforcing walls, putting out fires, and playing lifeguard in the basement?

Of course her man is the first one she sees.

Judith running to Uncle Daryl always makes this girl smile. Sue me. I’m a sentimental fool.

Look at Lydia’s happy little face.

The way Carol almost fell into Daryl’s arms like a wife happy to see her husband home made my heart flutter. You know she’s keeping her cool in front of the kids.

Both my girls feeling some kind of way about Negan. My, how times have changed. I wonder. Will Lydia harbor any future resentment toward Maggie for this? She didn’t know Glenn so she’s not as closeto the history there. But she’s been an outsider so she identifies and empathizes with Negan somewhat. Future conflict between the two of them perhaps?

Look at little RJ. They keep that cute baby monosyllabic or silent, lol.

Okay. I bought Father G’s look at Rosita but girl looked kind of unimpressed, lol.

How adorable is Coco?

OMFG. That’s what people been declaring canon over? LMAO. Whoever called it a Bro Shove was spot on. All they needed was a basketball and a court and I could have seen them going to shoot some hoops later. It had that kind of catch up feel. It was cute. I’ll give you that. And it hinted at literally no romantic feelings or implications at all. Daryl looks like he just got reunited with his sisters. Y’all. For real. Put down the crackpipes if you forecasting marriage proposals because of this. We good.

Now the implications of Carol witnessing? That screams jealous, insecure, disbelieving of her own worth love interest. But antis gonna anti so of fucking course they see it as Carol shipping them when the truth is she is literally the only person on earth, fictional or real, that honestly and without ulterior motive, ships Daryl with happiness.

And y’all. Carol is literally framed between them. She is 100% the reason why it’s not like that and she just doesn’t realize it. At this point, the only person, ahem--people, in more willful denial are the shippers of the other ship.

Stormtroopers on horseback. Surely our nerd Jerry can appreciate this. You know he’s a not so closeted Star Wars lover. Has to be.

Eugene running ahead saying “we’re all friends” made me giggle, okay. Josh as Eugene has a very distinct gait/run and it never fails to make me laugh.

Look. If Daryl and Connie really were like *that*, realistically, who do you think he’d be standing within arms’ reach of lined up in front of some strange newcomers he for sure doesn’t trust? Certainly not Carol. C’mon, people. Put your thinking caps on. Shit goes down? He wants Carol nearby just in case. I swear. Some people willfully dense AF.

6 months later, huh? I hate Angela’s apparent lady hard on for these time jumps but I do appreciate the idea that Maggie really said fuck slimy Lance Hornsby and his politician’s suit.

Holy shit. Daryl in stormtrooper gear demanding Maggie open up the gates of Hilltop. WTF, lol.

Who’s Stephen Campbell? Anybody know? Some digging is in order.

So. Some overall impressions because I figure if you’re still reading at this point, why the hell not?

I love that shit actually got done.

Maggie and Aaron were badass.

Daryl was a dumbass letting Leah live. Like that time they didn’t end the Governor, I fear this one will come back to bite them in the ass.

Daryl’s reunion with Carol and the kids was heartwarming and felt like two marrieds that had been through it all a million times before reuniting and it had the right kind of understated flavor, considering they haven’t 100% cleared the air with each other.

Daryl 100% views Connie as a sister. Kelly too. Only Carol and the antis think otherwise and only Carol’s reasons make gd sense.

Lance is slimy AF.

Lydia has my heart. Girl saved a man she felt didn’t 100% have her back as a former Whisperer and Aaron felt small because he’d been wrong not to embrace her wholly.

Aaron is such a good dad.

Carol and Negan remain the only two that have the ability to cut through the bullshit and see the larger picture. Except where Daryl is involved for Carol because her heart and her insecurities are too damn loud.

Judith, Uncle Daryl scenes, however small? Continue to warm my heart.

RJ is literally just there as a peace offering for pissed off R!chonne fans to keep the lid on their rage, IMHO. He’s cute but so far? A non-factor. Because the mama that lost Andre so tragically would have never left him. Ever. I don’t care how people try to rationalize that OOC behavior to benefit their shipping preference/perspective. I’ll die on this hill. M!chonne as a character was done so dirty but I suppose backstage decisions dictated their options and they chose the least sensical one that pandered the most to the ship. They dampened my personal enjoyment in the process. Here’s hoping they’ll find a way to right the ship in the future.

Father G and Rosita are still so mismatched. Like I don’t even get the vibe she’s really into him. More that she looked at the X’s and O’s and decided he best overall benefits Coco and okay, fair. I don’t understand it but I do.

Anywho. I cannot wait for super spy Carol to take the Commonwealth down.

The rest? I’ll reserve judgment.

Here comes Angela’s explanation points, lol. Let’s see if I learn anything new.

Nope, nope.

Although. It didn’t really hit me how much Maggie’s killing of Carver literally echoed Negan’s killings of Glenn and Abe until I saw the moments back to back so yeah. Kinda cool but Maggie still has the moral high ground, IMHO. By a hair.

I’d explain why but this is already a typo ridden thesis so.

Until next time, lovelies.

Same time next week.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons #Shae's thinky thoughts

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retroellie · 4 years ago

Note

Love the ellie imagines so far 🥺 could you maybe do one where the reader who’s ellies best friend is jealous about her and cat but ellie is oblivious to it? like maybe there’s a “i think you deserve better” and ellie is in complete shock

Summary: You get jealous about Ellie and cat’s relationship, confessions are made

A/N: Thank you for the request<3 Y’all’s minds are too powerful, i couldn’t come up with this stuff alone. This kinda sucks but i hope you like it, i’m loving these soft request :)

Warnings: Some violence, cheating (kinda, sorry cat :( )

Word count: 1.9K

“Shit.” You hissed out, grabbing a nearby stick.

You threw off the runners body from on top of you before getting up to run to ellie. There was a runner on top of her, swinging its arms around, trying desperately to bite ellie. You ran up behind it, bashing it over the head. You kept hitting it over and over and over again until the stick had broken.

You threw down the broken stick before letting yourself catch your breath, watching the body just in case it decided to come back to life. You hear shuffling next to you.

“Holy shit, that was close.” Ellie said, looking at your handy work

You looked over at her, hand over your stomach from where a clicker tackled you. Your body felt sore, the pain of the cuts and bruises you had gotten. You saw blood trickle down her neck, suddenly your heart dropped.

“Are you bit?” You said, grabbing at her.

You moved her hair from her neck, expecting to see a bite mark but only to see something so much worse. There was a big red/purple mark, you’ve never done anything like that but you weren’t dumb. It was a hickey, the complexion of her skin made it stick out a lot. Your heart dropped even more, so the rumors were true.

“What is it?” She asked, seeing how your entire demeanor had changed.

You moved your hand away from her neck, suddenly wanting to go back to jackson and never come out of your room. You looked her in the eye, she looked worried.

“No bite mark, well if you include hickeys as a bite mark.” You said, faking a small grin.

Her eyes widened, grabbing onto her neck suddenly embarrassed. You chuckled, picking up your backpack that had fallen off your body. You threw it across your shoulder, trying to shove your gun in there as well.

“Damn it.” She said, pulling her hair down to cover it. “I swear she’s like a vacuum cleaner.”

You were happy she was happy but you couldn’t help but feel some kind of heartbreak. You have liked her ever since she came to Jackson but Cat had her eyes on her. Cat was great but you couldn’t help your feelings.

You shook your head, handing her backpack to her. She smiled at you before putting hers on.

“So you guys are a thing huh?” You asked, walking around to try to find some supplies

“Uh, yeah. I guess..” She paused. “I mean she always tells people we are and I mean we kiss a lot.”

You shouldn’t have asked, the thought of them together made you sick. Ellie was such a kind and sweet soul, she was always so nice to you. You craved the attention she gave you, she never failed to compliment you. For a while there you thought she liked you back but you knew she wouldn’t go for someone like you, cat was lucky.

“That’s cool.” You said, slight jealousy peeking through your voice

You walked over to the door, feeling Ellie's eyes on you the entire time. She was your best friend for 3 years so she knew when something was bothering you. She bit her lip slightly, wondering what it could be.

“What? You don’t like her.” She asked.

“No, it’s not that.” You said as you pushed on the door, trying to get it open but it wouldn’t budge.

She watched you closely, she had an idea that you didn’t really like cats but she never really knew why. You had a good way of covering it up though, you still were good friends with cat.

“Than what is it?” She asked, watching you struggle.

“I think she’s a talented artist.” You started, trying to push the door open with all your might. “She’s a nice girl and I love her, she’s a good friend.”

You pushed in the door harder, it wouldn’t budge and you needed help but Ellie was so concentrated on getting the answer out of you she just watched.

“I just don’t think you two are good for each other.” You said before punching the door, almost breaking your wrist. “ GOD DAMN IT.”

Ellie smirked at your anger, leaning against the door. You looked up at her, rolling your eyes when you saw her stupid smirk on her face. You let a sigh out, knowing you put yourself in a shitty position.

“What do you mean, ‘not good for each other’” she asked, a smirk tone in her voice.

You folded your arms across your chest, you were stuck. You didn’t want to spill out your feelings for her on accident but what do you say? ‘Hey I don’t like your girlfriend because I am in love with you and think about you every night before bed’, don’t think that’ll end too well.

“Look, I love you both. I really do but I don’t think you guys like each other. Don't try to tell me you do because I know you ellie.” You say, looking her in the eye.

Her arms were folded, she watched as you stumbled on your words, picking and choosing carefully what you say. She thought you were so cute when you were nervous.

“I just think you deserve better.” You finished, watching her reaction closely

She was surprised you said that, not knowing much of what it meant but she somehow felt her heart flutter. She felt in that moment you cared about her, it was sweet.

“You think I don’t like her??” She asked, she knew what she was doing. She was making you nervous and digging the hole you were in deeper until she got you right where she wanted you too.

You didn’t want to talk about this anymore, you wanted to curl up in a ball and die. You didn’t want to hurt her feelings and you didn’t want to lie to her.

“I know you don’t like her.” You started. “You like Dina.”

Her eyes widened, did you really not know?? She felt like she dropped so many hints, was she too subtle. She liked cat, she was the best person she'd ever met but it all happened so fast. The night cat kissed her, she was planning on asking you to go to the dance with her. Her plans changed that night but her feelings didn’t.

It makes her feel like shit that she likes you, I mean she’s dating someone but she’s liked you for years. She gets all blushy when thinking about you. She knew she couldn’t get rid of these feelings when you held her hand the entire time while getting her tattoo. She couldn’t stop staring at you, the way you giggled at your stupid jokes you told attempting to distract her from the pain.

You knew something was wrong when she went silent, you probably said something wrong but you didn’t want to make it worse. You put your hands on the door once more, ready to push it open.

“Help me open the door please, Joel and Tommy are probably worried.” You said, trying to break the silence.

You tried to push once more but Ellie put her hand out, stopping you from pushing.

“Ellie...” you started

“You think I like Dina?!?” She interrupted, her voice was filled with disbelief

You dug yourself into such a deep whole, she was frustrated at this point. You felt so dumb.

“Well yeah, I see the way you look at her.” You shrugged.

You felt like prey under a predator's gaze, anything could happen right now. Your Breath hitched a bit, anticipation swooning in your stomach

“How do you not know??” She asked, shocking you a bit.

You were beyond confused, the feeling making you a bit dizzy. The nervousness, pain and jealousy you felt was overwhelming.

“What do you mean?” You asked, your slightly voice above a whisper.

She scoffed, throwing her hands up. Her frustration confused you more, did you say something that made her angry?

“I don’t like Dina y/n” she started, frustrated a bit. “And you're right I don’t like cat, as shitty as it sounds.”

She stared directly at you, closing in on you. If it was a different situation this would be a perfect opportunity to kiss her, but you held back. She was obviously upset about something you said.

“I mean, I’ve been dropping hints for years...” she trailed off, her eyes boring into you. “You really don’t know, i mean all those times we’ve been alone in your room.” Her eyes lightened up abit

You just stood there, not knowing what to say. You were speechless, you didn’t know those were hints. You thought she was yet being a good friend, I mean that one night when she went in for a kiss but you freaked out and split before anything could happen. But that happens a lot to best friends, right. Could you be that stupid?? Or was Ellie just really bad at dropping hints??

“You like me..” you said, in such disbelief

“Yes...” she breathed out, of all times you guys had been alone together this was the most intimate. “I’ve liked you for a long time, me and cat just kinda happened before I could get to you.”

Your nervousness drifted away, your stomach no longer hurt but was met with butterflies. Your mind felt fuzzy and your hands shook, but it wasn’t out of nervousness. It was from the rollercoaster of emotions you were on, overwhelming you.

“You suck at dropping hints.” You chuckled out, trying to lighten the mood

She chuckled as well but that scared her a bit. Did she put you on the spot, did she make you feel uncomfortable. She had no idea but she was glad it was finally off her chest, she loved cat but having to fake something for so long can make a person crazy.

“Sorry...” she whispered

“No no, it’s fine. It’s just” you paused. “I like you too, it just came so fast. I’m not sure how to process it.”

That sentence gave Ellie some kind of hope, knowing she didn’t hurt you in any way and you actually felt that same.

“I know and I’m sorry...” she looked around nervously. “We should probably get back to Joel and tommy, we can talk about this later if you want.”

She started to turn around to finally help you with the door, but you stopped her just as she did you. You pulled her into you, standing on your tippy toes. You pulled her into you, kissing her.

She was met with surprise, she wasn’t expecting that. She melted into the kiss, pulling you closer by your hips. Your arms found their way around her neck, this wasn’t how the day was supposed to go. You finally pulled away, her hands still around your waist and yours around her neck.

“I’m confused.” She whispered, breathless from the kiss.

“Me too..” You replied, moving a piece of hair from her forehead. “But i’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

She smiled, she knew she had a shit load to do when she got home but for now she was with you. She pulled you into another kiss, this one a little more passionate than the last. She wasn’t sure what was to come but this moment made it all worth it.

(credits to gif owner)

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us x reader #tlou ellie #the last of us fanfiction

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vocalyunho · 5 years ago

Text

Why’d you only call me when you’re high?

pairing — San x reader (fem)

genre — angst, smut

word count — 2.8k

warnings — mentions of alcohol, oral, fingering, spanking, choking (not really), explicit unprotected sex.

synopsis — San’s on your doorstep again, high and needy, like every other time. You can’t bring yourself to say no to him though, not when your emotions for him are this strong.

A/N: AM’s “Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” was the inspiration of this.

“are you up?”

San’s text got followed by one more shot that made his throat feel like he’d breathe out fire in the form of bright blue flames. He tried to walk to the bathroom and once he reached it, his already blurry vision got blurrier, as he held himself up by holding on the sink. The clean mirror in front of him, that reflected his -not so good- state, told him it was about time he left but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not with his mind on how you weren’t there with him, by his side, and he knew, very well, he shouldn’t want you there.

All his calls to you went unanswered and all his texts got overlooked with one single text that said it all “why’d you only call me when you’re high, San?”. He couldn’t bring his mind to logically answer to that, not because he wasn’t sober -even when he was he couldn’t answer to that- but because there was no answer to his liking that could explain that.

Exiting the -God knows what type of- place he was in, all the streets were empty. The dim yellow lighting from the streetlights was the only thing that helped him walk on the sidewalk and not in the middle of the road. His jacket felt heavier than ever, but the cold breeze of the spring night didn’t let him take it off. He walked slowly, his mind going dizzier by the bright lights of the ‘twenty four hours open’ little shops that were there for people who were out for the night, like him.

He walked past one of them and, turning his head to the right, he thought he saw you in there. His eyes widened but after a while, your -almost too real form- vanished proving him that this was just his mind playing tricks at 3:30AM. San shook his head in an attempt to make it see things as they were but as he kept walking, he passed in front of a dark alley in which two dudes were smoking something illegal, probably. His heart skipped two or three beats when he thought he saw you there again. This time though, he wasn’t so naïve. He shook his head harder and when he opened his eyes again, he was sure you weren’t there. His legs continued walking on their own. The sounds of the meager cars passing by him, echoed in his ears making his head throb at the too much noise pollution. He thought he saw you everywhere…

He didn’t have a final destination when he left the bar, he walked and walked but when he reached your neighborhood, he felt like he was finally home.

Your bell rang, echoing in the silent apartment, and you flinched at the unexpected visit at such hour. Your eyes left the tv and, walking to the door, you looked through the peephole before opening it with a heavy heart. And there he was, at your doorstep. Again. His eyes filled with lust and need like every other time but, this time, there was something else there too that you couldn’t figure out. You’re tired, so tired of it, but you can’t bring yourself to refuse to his request…to refuse to him.

“I was so worried”, he said with heavy eyes, his hand against the door frame, holding him up “why didn’t you answer to my calls, I didn’t know if you were okay”

“you need to leave, San”

“let me stay just for the night”

It’s funny how many times you’ve heard that sentence leaving his plump lips and it’s even funnier that you let him stay every time, even though things always end up the same. With you under him and his lips on your hot flesh that feels like it needs him and only him.

…And his lips were on yours in a second, this time too, after the door was shut close. His hands all over your body worshiping the curves sculpted by heaven itself or so he thought. San got rid of his jacket fast, that was now laying on the wooden floor of your small living room and his shoes were here and there as he took them off without glancing at them. He was too busy sucking on your neck, marking it, making it his but at the same time, not his, at all.

Your mind said no, but your heart could only scream yes. You could smell every single drop of alcohol he’s consumed tonight, you could sense every bit of need in his actions and every bit of desire in his breathy moans against your neck, but not a single hint of love.

His body was so close to yours, you could feel every inhale and exhale and he kept coming closer, moving your body backwards until you reached the plum bedroom. He knew your house better than you at this point, but what hurt you the most is that he also knew your body better than you. He’s kissed, marked, licked, explored all of it and you’d lie if you said you didn’t like it. But it hurt.

San reached for the hem of your white t-shirt and only detached his lips from your neck for a second to take it off. Like a starved man, he attacked your lips moaning your name in the process. Before you could think of it, he started unbuttoning his own shirt and once it was completely open, your fingertips moved to his exposed body like they had a mind of their own. You caressed the toned chest and flexed abs up and down the same way your tongue had done millions of times before. He moaned in your mouth and your knees weakened.

Your body was aching both because of need and pain. San always kept coming back to you and the gullible hope in your heart, always thought it was because he wanted you like you wanted him. He needed you like you needed him…with the actual meaning of the word, not just for the animalistic drunk sex you had.

He pushed you on the edge of the bed and slid your pajama pants to your ankles till they were off and thrown somewhere on the floor along with his own. You crawled further up the bed as he got rid of his boxers, like it was the most useless piece of clothing ever. His cock sprung up, red, swollen, needy as always, with pre-cum already leaking from the tip and you knew how this would go but you still stayed there, anticipating for it.

You only needed him to care. You only needed to wake up the next morning and find him next to you on the bed, but it never went like this.

He crawled on top of you and before he could move, you held his wrists tightly. You just wanted to see him for a bit, to know that he was really there, to let him know that this means more than he thinks to you…and he stayed. He stayed staring at you and you felt like this was the first time he’s ever looked in your eyes. You always thought his face was a masterpiece, a painting in a museum where all other works of art would be jealous of the beauty it held. His lips were always red and plump, his nose high and elegant like a Greek god’s and his eyes…these were your favorite. They held the entire sky and all of galaxy’s stars, no matter how corny that sounds.

“I don’t have a condom”, he broke the silence but you expected that from him, he couldn’t keep himself any longer, probably.

“you never do”

“you’re on birth control, right?”

“yeah”

“that’s my baby”

He kissed your temple and you wished he could, for once, mean both the “my” and the kiss.

“you’ll do as I say and you won’t come before a let you?”

“yes”

San was always slightly aggressive when drunk, but especially talkative and very much horny.

He lowered his body until his face was in between your legs and grasping your thighs, he didn’t even dare to take your panties off. The fabric was in between his fingers in a second and when he slid it to the side, he pecked your clit softly. The familiar tingling feeling washed your spine. He ran his tongue along the entirety of your center, collecting some of your silk and once it was down his throat, he pressed his tongue on the bundle of nerves. Your eyes shut close fast and a small moan left your lips, and before you could even get used to his actions, he puckered his lips and sucked hard “o-ohmygod”

You grabbed his hair and your fingers got clumsily tangled in the waves. Your hips backed up asking for more but he only dug his fingers on the soft flesh of your thighs, keeping you down and open for him to do as he wished. The lewd sounds of your silk getting sucked echoed in the silent apartment, driving you crazy and you felt your center burn. San’s eyes were closed until he took one hand away from your thigh to wipe the wetness from your cunt, before pushing two digits in. “holy shit-”

He only moaned at your curse as he synchronized the quick thrusting of his fingers with the lapping of his tongue and you pulled his hair when you felt your climax reaching you “S-San imgonna come”.

“don’t you dare baby”

He took his face away from your cunt and brought it on your level, but the thrusting of his fingers quickened making your eyes roll back and your head pin to the pillow. “let me see that pretty face of yours”, he groaned and pulled your chin down. You couldn’t care less at how he stared you, you only needed to chase after your orgasm even if he told you not to. The sounds from between your legs got squelchier and he bit his bottom lip in an attempt to make his hand keep going. You moaned loudly when your legs started trembling and San pulled his fingers out of you fast.

You whined at the sudden lack of penetration but he straddled you and brought his fingers to your lips, tapping them softly “open up”. You did and he inserted them to the pit, making you gag but as he pulled them slowly backwards you got to taste yourself, moaning both at the taste and the feeling of his fingers in your mouth. San twitched.

“I think you should be a good girl and fall on all fours, mhm?”

He said and took your underwear off as he left your lap. He always loved it doggy and as you held yourself up and turned around, he grabbed your hips bringing them higher than the rest of your body. Your face fell on the mattress and before you could see him from the corner of your eye, a loud smack landed on your ass.

“fuck baby, why so sensitive today?”

The way you backed your hips down made him wonder what changed today. You usually push them higher to earn more but not this time.

“I need you San-”

“you need what?”

“you”

He caressed the reddened flesh before landing another, harder smack on it “you need what?”

“your cock-”

“that’s right”

“inside me, pplease”

He guided himself to your entrance but only nudged it up and down, earning a loud sigh from you.

“San- please”

“I love it when you beg”

“fuck please”

Every pleading felt like music to his ears. He adored it when the walls of your pride fell apart for him, mostly because he knew you weren’t like this in other spectrums of your life. You never begged anyone for anything, but you did beg him because you needed him.

“your pretty begs only get me harder, babygirl”

Your heart clenched at the nickname “please San, let me feel you”

“only because it’s you”

He took his hand off his member and held on your sides as he pushed in slowly, groaning at the tightness around him.

“fuck yes”

It felt more relieving than painful and you sighed loudly at the long-awaited stretch. He went halfway in before drawing his hips back and snapping them forward again. His hands roamed your sides, moving you against his dick slowly and it would feel like lovers making love, if only there was the tiniest hint of love hidden in his actions or words. Sometimes it fooled you, making you feel like there really is something bigger there, something that could grow and even reach the level of love but you were wrong. If love exists in one party, it can never be called proper love…

His thrusts started getting faster and you clutched on the sheets on each side of your body for support. The force of his hips made you bounce against him and every time he drew back and in again, your bodies collided rhythmically.

“shit-”

San’s eyes narrowed as he tried to thrust faster, but he didn’t warn you, and once he bottomed out, a loud cry got mixed with your whimpers. Your knees weakened and you felt like collapsing while San only went faster, shortening his thrusts but hitting deep.

“S-San”

You tried to hold his thigh as your legs spread further without realizing, but he grabbed your knees and brought them up as they should be again. You cried out and pushed your ass up to help him reach deeper but he throbbed and the groan the left him came from deep in his chest.

“d-do you like that?”

“ohmygodd”

He slapped your ass and it hurt more than before but a smile creeped up your lips knowing how you would see his mark on you the next morning, once again. When your hand on his thigh got held, it took you by surprise. Your wrist was in his palm and, in a moment, he brought it up on his lips and kissed it softly contrasting the way his hips treated yours.

“fuck baby, you’re so good”

“San I’m-”

“come for me”, he almost growled and wrapped his hand around your throat to bring you up against his chest. The warmth on your back made you give yourself completely in him. He held you as he wished, he moved you as he wished, he fucked you as he wished…and you could only love it. Your head fell back, on his shoulder and you could see him from a new angle. His jaw was clenched and sweat was already dripping from the side of his face. He looked too good like that.

He saw you staring at him and the exposed flesh of your neck was more than enough to occupy his lips. He kissed on it like when he first came in your apartment tonight, but this time he nibbled and sucked more gently. He wanted to hear all your sounds, to know that he was the one responsible for them. Your eyes rolled on the back of your head when he hit your g-spot and his lips on your neck made it feel like heaven. He twitched and let a deep groan tickle your skin, you felt him trembling…

Cries of his name rolled off your tongue and your walls clenched hard. He held your side tightly with his left hand while the other was still around your throat, holding gently rather than harshly. His thrusts began to slow down and get longer but your mind went dizzier and dizzier. It was like you were drunk on the pain of him not loving you back instead of the bliss he was sending you to. There was no way you could take it anymore, you couldn’t keep bearing this pain, you needed him to be with you on daylight too, not only during the night when he’s drunk and in need of your comfort.

“baby-”

“San…pplease come-”

Your voice was desperate and almost a real cry as your climax got over you and you came around him, trembling and falling forward but he kept you steady. He forced his hips forward, with heavy pants and quivering thighs.

“can I stay afterwards?”, he spoke softly even though he was on the verge too.

“you already are”

“not only till the sun rises”

He kissed your lips and came with a deep groan, painting you like a canvas.

#ateez san #san smut #san angst #choi san #choi san smut #ateez smut #ateez angst #kpop scenarios #kpop fics #kpop smut #san x reader #ateez au #if you haven't yet please listen to 'why'd you only call me when you're high' by the Arctic Monkeys

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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats on 500 followers!!!!! Your writing is amazing and you totally deserve it! Would you be able to do “Can you please stop biting your lip…it’s distracting.” for analogical? If you don’t get inspo for it that’s totally fine I’m just on a total analogical kick recently lol

@wisherbystarlight thank you!! i absolutely love analogical so here you go

Title: abject impermanence

Word Count: 3,570

Content Warnings: implied suicidal ideation (in reference to virgil ducking out), negative self image

(fic masterpost)

Virgil would rather die than admit this to anybody, but he develops a crush on Logan after their first debate.

It’s ridiculous, and bothersome, and stupidly humiliating, and he has to spend a few days in his room before he feels prepared enough to face anyone again, prepared enough to put up his usual walls and throw around his usual sarcastic comments, and all the while, his heart is beating far too fast, his mind racing, insisting that he’s being obvious, that everyone knows.

(That is what being Anxiety means: he is under a microscope all the time, his every movement watched and analyzed and derided, alone in a crowd of people who wish him nothing but ill.)

It’s awful, really. Is he truly so pathetic that the first time someone treats him like his opinions are valid, he falls head over heels for them? Because he has to admit, that’s the root of all of this. The debate, and the fact that even though Logan didn’t agree with him, he still treated him with respect, like he was someone worth listening to, and none of the light sides have ever acted like that before.

And they’ve certainly never told him that they don’t mind his company.

So. He has a crush on Logan. And it takes him a few weeks to calm down enough to really think about it, but when he does, he decides that nothing has to change. It’s not like he’ll ever work up the courage to act on these feelings

(because holy shit, how badly would that go? He can picture it now: Logan sneering at him, Logan rejecting him, Logan informing him that he would never in a million years have feelings for someone so irrational and useless, and while Virgil is at it, would he kindly remove himself from his presence and never come back and— well. Maybe Virgil is irrational, but he can’t bring himself to risk something like that)

so the only thing to do with them is pretend they’re not there, right? He’ll keep all of his emotions right here, in his chest, and then one day, he’ll die, and no one else has to know a thing about it.

He doesn’t see what could possibly go wrong with this plan. Which is odd for him because usually, he can only see the things that could go wrong. But the only factor in this plan is him, and his own ability to disguise his feelings, and he’s been successfully doing that for a very long time.

(After all, it’s been years, and none of the others have managed to figure out how much their rejection hurts him, how deeply it strikes at the heart he pretends not to have.)

But he doesn’t anticipate things changing. He doesn’t anticipate trying to duck out, at least, not until the moments in between making the decision and actually going through with it, and he doesn’t anticipate anybody coming after him. He certainly doesn’t anticipate their reactions, doesn’t anticipate being told that he’s important,

(because since fucking when?)

and doesn’t anticipate their acceptance.

He doesn’t anticipate telling them his name.

And alright, maybe he could deal with all of this. Maybe he could ease his way into being one of them, edge his way into their inner circle. It’s something he once would have thought impossible, but now, they seem determined to make him one of them, to bring him into their family, and even though part of him wonders whether they’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t duck out again, doesn’t hurt Thomas, a larger part of him is ecstatic about the fact that they’re including him at all. Maybe he can let himself have this, for once.

But that night, Logan comes to his room.

“Do you have a moment to talk?” he asks, and reluctantly, Virgil takes off his headphones.

Because, yes. Of course. He’s hardly busy, and even if he were, he’s certain he’d figure out a way to put it aside in favor of Logan, because really, he’s helpless to do anything else.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, aiming for casual. He thinks he makes it, if only because he is very practiced in hiding how much of a mess he is internally. “What’s up?”

Logan looks uncomfortable, a bit shifty, even though he hasn’t been in his room nearly long enough for its effects to take hold.

“I merely wanted to check in with you after today’s events,” he says, and then pauses, biting his lip, something that Virgil finds incredibly distracting. “Specifically, to ensure that you are alright.”

He blinks. “Of course I’m alright,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“Well, I was considering everything that happened, and it occurred to me that we glossed over precisely what ‘ducking out’ would have done to you in the long term.” In an oddly vehement motion, Logan shoves his glasses further up his nose. And Virgil knows very well that as the embodiment of Logic, Logan tries not to display his stronger emotions, but right now, he is the perfect picture of distress. “I find it likely that if Thomas had been unable to utilize you for an extended amount of time, you may have… disappeared, for lack of a better word, not unlike a muscle that atrophies after disuse.”

Well, yes. He knew what he was risking. But he’d felt low enough that he didn’t particularly care about himself.

He was just tired of hurting Thomas.

(And maybe, just maybe, if there was a part of him, small and insidious in the back of his brain, that found the prospect of nothingness appealing, he’ll keep that to himself.)

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But that didn’t happen. You guys came and got me, and I’m okay now. Not gonna do anything like that again, I swear.”

“That’s not my point,” Logan says, even more upset entering his voice. He crosses his arms, holding his shoulders tensely. “No matter how illogical it might seem, I find myself wondering what might have happened had we not attempted to reach you in time, and the idea is… displeasing.”

Oh.

Despite himself, Virgil’s heart flutters.

“So, I arrived at the conclusion that assuring myself of your continued well-being would help to assuage my concern.” Logan fidgets. “As well as the fact that… I want you to be alright. For yourself, and not just because I am…”

“Anxious?” Virgil can’t resist finishing, even as he feels his face flushing underneath his foundation. God, he hopes Logan doesn’t pick up on that. He shouldn’t be reacting this strongly to something as simple as basic worry, especially after the day they all had, but to know that Logan has been thinking about him? That Logan doesn’t like the idea of him not being around, doesn’t want him to vanish?

That Logan cares enough to come check on him like this?

It’s a strong, heady feeling, and Virgil has the sneaking suspicion that his crush has just upgraded itself.

“Yes,” Logan answers, and he seems a bit embarrassed, but he holds his ground, staring Virgil straight (gay) in the eyes. The direct eye contact is intense, almost too much for him to handle, but Virgil finds himself unable to look away.

“Well, uh, I appreciate it, I guess,” he manages. “Really, it’s nice to know that you care.”

“Of course,” Logan says, and seems almost indignant at the idea that he might not. “I value our discussions,” he adds, and Virgil has to pretend that that statement doesn’t almost give him a heart attack.

But that is mostly the end of that conversation, because really, neither of them is very good with touchy-feely emotions. Logan sinks back out shortly after, and Virgil is left alone in his room, his headphones lying uselessly on his lap as his mind reviews their exchange over and over again, searching for all the places where it might have gone wrong, or where he might have messed up. He can’t really find any, and that is a realization in and of itself, almost enough to distract him from the bigger one, the one that looms over him.

It’s not just a crush anymore. He could try to deny it, but he thinks that would summon unwanted attention. So he accepts it, accepts that he is… he’d say infatuated, but infatuated isn’t the right word. Infatuated doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels when he looks at Logan, doesn’t cover the way his heart races and his words trip over themselves and the way he longs for his approval. It doesn’t cover the way he knows so many little details about him, like the way Logan pushes at his glasses or fiddles with his tie when he’s nervous or upset, or the exact way his lips curl around the edges when he’s pleased and trying not to show it. So many little details, none of which would be on his radar at all if he wasn’t—

Well. He won’t deny it. But he doesn’t particularly see the need to voice it, either.

After all, it’s not like it changes anything. Or at least, it shouldn’t. He wasn’t planning on sharing his feelings when they were a simple crush, and he’s certainly not going to share them now that there’s more.

Except, nothing is ever that simple,

(Nothing ever can be, with him. It’s what he does best, turning easy things into overcomplicated messes because he can’t let go of all the what ifs—)

because suddenly, he’s welcome to spend time with the others. Is welcome at their table, is welcome in the commons, is welcome to join their movie nights and their game nights, and most of the time, he even feels mostly okay with doing so, because Patton is enthusiastic in his invitations, and he can tell that even Roman is honestly trying. And sometimes, it makes him want to cry, because this is all he’s ever wanted, to be one of them, and now he can and it’s almost too much.

The only problem with that is that he’s spending a lot more time around Logan.

Which is fine. Great, even.

Except, sometimes, Logan will do things. Little things, inconsequential things, but things that remind Virgil all too clearly of the feelings he keeps nestled under his heart.

For instance, Logan bites his lip a lot. When he’s working, when he’s watching movies, when he’s listening to the others, and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s a stupid thing to get caught up on, but he can’t help himself. And it’s not as if Virgil’s attraction to him begins or ends with the physical, but—

Whenever he does it, Virgil can’t stop his eyes from zeroing in on his lips. Can’t stop himself from thinking about how much he would like to kiss him.

He would like to kiss him a whole lot. And he’s fairly sure he’s being pretty obvious about it, but he can’t bring himself to stop.

So, really, he should have prepared himself for the possibility of being found out. Under any other circumstance, he would have, but there’s a saying, he thinks, about love and fools.

“Can I help you with something?” Logan says, and Virgil flinches violently, the rest of the world coming back into focus. He snaps his gaze up to meet Logan’s eyes, and the expression on his face might be amusement, maybe, but it could also be annoyance, and in fact, it’s probably definitely annoyance, because actually Logan is annoyed with Virgil and maybe even angry and now their budding friendship is completely ruined and all because Virgil doesn’t know better than to stare when he really shouldn’t be staring and—

No, stop. Stop. He’s not going to do that, not right now. He wrests his thoughts back under control with an effort.

Logan was working, typing away on his laptop, biting his lip as he concentrated. And Virgil just so happened to be out in the commons as well, in the perfect position to watch him and daydream, just a bit.

He needs to reply. He’s left it too long, and Logan’s eyebrows are inching up his face as he awaits a response. And the longer he takes to come up with something, the more suspicious Logan will be, so he should just shrug, mutter a denial, and pointedly turn his attention away. Something like that.

But it’s his job to make snap decisions under pressure. And sometimes those decisions aren’t the right ones.

So instead of taking another second to think things through and deflect Logan’s interest, his mouth opens ahead of his brain and says, “Can you please stop biting your lip?”

Logan stares. Virgil feels himself wilting.

“… It’s distracting,” he finishes weakly, and prays for the ground to swallow him whole. He can’t even manage to sink out

(because his mind is screaming at him now, screaming horrified recriminations, screaming all of the worst case scenarios, and it’s taking all of his concentration to breathe properly, much less get out of here)

because the sheer force of his embarrassment is leaving him paralyzed, curled up in his chair and with nowhere to go, nowhere to escape Logan’s widening eyes.

“Is it now,” Logan says, and he doesn’t sound particularly angry, but Virgil could very easily be wrong. Or, he could be angry and trying to hide it. Or maybe he’s not angry, but irritation would probably be just as bad, at this point.

“Sorry,” he mutters, hunching in on himself. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

“Virgil, you’re magnifying,” Logan says softly, and that softness is worse than any anger could be, because what if he’s figured it out? What if he pities him? Virgil would take just about anything over pity. “Whatever you think you just said, I assure you that it didn’t come off nearly as badly as you seem to believe.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Though, I can’t say I’m certain of what you meant, considering—”

He cuts off suddenly, and Virgil can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He should leave now, leave before Logan draws his conclusions, but he is frozen, powerless to do anything but let this train wreck happen in real time.

“I wouldn’t ordinarily consider biting my lip to be a disruptive habit,” Logan says slowly. “It makes no noise and does no one any harm, and it’s not something I would think affects anyone else. But you were staring, which means there is something about the habit that draws your attention. I can only think of a few reasons for that.”

He takes it back. Pity would be far better than this, than this slow and measured reasoning, drawing out all of Virgil’s best-kept secrets, spiraling toward a conclusion that he never wanted anyone to know, much less Logan himself.

Perhaps that is why he says what he says. Because with this, Logan is only prolonging the inevitable, and it’s torture.

It’s like a band-aid. The biggest band-aid ever, maybe, covering one of the worst wounds of his life, but a band-aid. And it’s coming off one way or another, so he might as well rip it off now and brace himself for the sting.

“Oh my god,” he says. “It makes me want to kiss you. That’s why it’s distracting. And I’m just gonna go die in a hole now, if that’s alright.”

His face is burning, mortification rising up in him like a tidal wave, threatening to swamp him. This is, possibly, the worst thing that has ever happened to him, ever.

(It’s not, of course, because anything and everything is better than it was before he was accepted, when he was on his own and so lonely and bitter all the time. But this comes close, he thinks. It’s a different kind of hurt altogether, but a hurt nonetheless.)

Logan sets his laptop down, giving him his full attention. For a moment, he is completely silent, and Virgil prepares himself to stand and sink out and into his room, where he will spend the next few weeks huddled under the covers on his bed with his headphones on blast, hating his life and himself for being such an idiot, because here he is, ruining one of the best friendships that he has ever known, and for what? Because he was too much of a moron to keep himself from staring, from forcing his unwanted attentions upon the one side who was more likely than any of the others to notice what he was doing? It’s pathetic, and stupid, and he knows it, and Logan knows it, and—

“I don’t see why you need to do that,” Logan says. His voice shakes, just slightly. “You could kiss me, if you wanted.”

Virgil stills. He can’t have heard that right.

Logan clears his throat. “That is to say, I would enjoy it, if you kissed me. If I’d realized you were interested, I would have broached the topic sooner.”

Hysterical laughter threatens to escape him, his brain dissolving into static, because what? And he knows he needs to say something, needs to respond, but his vocal cords refuse to work, so he’s left sitting there, staring, stricken dumb.

Logan glances away, something like uncertainty crossing his face. “I apologize,” he murmurs. “I’m not doing this right, am I?”

And that is what finally spurs Virgil to action, because Logan sounds so terribly dejected, and that is absolutely not allowed. Not when it’s Virgil that’s made such a mess of things, when none of it is Logan’s fault at all.

“Do you mean it?” he croaks.

Logan blinks, his expression clearing, and then landing on comprehension. His face softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stands, crossing the floor and kneeling in front of where Virgil sits.

“Of course I do,” he says, and then reaches out with one hand, cupping Virgil’s cheek. Virgil’s breath catches, the contact shooting lightning across his face and down his spine. His heart starts beating faster, and he doesn’t know whether it’s fear or anticipation or some mixture of the two. Most of him still hasn’t processed that this is happening, hasn’t made the jump from Logan can never know about my feelings because he’ll reject me and then I’ll have no choice but to jump off a cliff to Logan knows about my feelings and he is doing the exact opposite of rejecting me hoooooly shit what do I do—

“I think about you often,” Logan says. “Ever since our first debate, if I’m being completely honest.”

Virgil blinks.

The laugh escapes him, then, but there’s not much hysteria in it. It’s something warm, now, something bright and colorful and blooming as he realizes just how much of an idiot he’s been, as his anxiety slowly begins to fade away,

(not completely, never completely, because he is who he is and that will never change, and his mind is already looking to the future, at all the fresh new opportunities he is going to have to screw this up, but for now, in this moment, he has Logan here in front of him, offering to kiss him, telling him that his feelings aren’t as one-sided as he convinced himself they had to be, and it’s very difficult to be negative at all, in the face of such a beautiful thing as this, as him)

morphing into something that he is tentatively willing to call hope.

“Yeah?” he says. “Me too.”

Before he can lose his nerve, he shifts position, leans down, and kisses Logan. Lightly, briefly, and it’s really more of a peck than anything else, but in the split second in which their lips meet, Virgil can feel just how soft Logan’s are, and when he pulls back, anxiously searching for a reaction, Logan’s cheeks are dusted with red.

“Yes, um,” Logan says. “That was… good. Would you like to do it again?”

A wave of fondness washes over him, and he lets it drag him away.

“You dork,” he says, and pecks him on the lips again. He doesn’t yet have to courage to try for more, but he thinks that might come with time. If he is allowed time, if he is allowed this, and he is not prone to optimism, but for once, he might be willing to give it a go.

Optimism, and whatever this is, new and exciting and budding between them. And there is a part of his mind that is screaming at him, insisting that he’s only going to hurt Logan or get hurt himself, and that no brief happiness could ever be worth that, but—

Logan’s lips are gentle and soft, and Logan is smiling at him, and that, he thinks, might be worth the world.

(“I would be extremely displeased if you died in a hole,” Logan informs him a bit later. “Please refrain from doing so.”

He agrees, if only because of that fact that if he died in a hole, he would never get to kiss Logan ever again. And now that he’s started, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

He is not one to believe in permanence. Or in happy endings. But just this once, he’ll try it, and trust that Logan will catch him if he falls.)

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @ldavmp4

#analogical #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #my fic #long post #cat does prompts #wisherbystarlight

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cherrybracelets · 4 years ago

Text

We Fell In Love in October

dad!spencer x reader

a continuation of these blurbs. you do not need to read them to read this fic, but they all take place in the same universe

word count: 2.7k | warnings: pregnancy, hospitals, other than that all fluff

We fell in love in October, That’s why I love fall, Looking at the stars, Admiring from a far

There was nothing that broke your heart more than the fact that you were missing your daughters first time trick or treating. But, as Spencer reminded you every day, you were way too pregnant to be out walking around all night while she got candy. You were devastated, but you knew he was right. You were nearing your due date and felt like you were carrying a whale around at all times. There was absolutely no way you’d last longer than 20 minutes without whining about how your feet hurt.

So you and Spencer decided you’d stay home and hand out candy while he took Imogen to the fanciest neighborhood in your suburb so she could get the best candy. You remember trick or treating in the same neighborhood as a kid, and the houses always had full size candy bars and toys. There was one house that made a mini haunted house in their front yard every year, and it was your favorite thing as a kid. You felt sick thinking that Immy was going to experience it for the first time without you.

“You promise me you will take a ton of pictures and videos? If there’s not at least 500, we are literally getting a divorce,” you pouted, helping Spencer get his costume on.

“Babe, I promise you won’t miss a second of it. I know it sucks you can’t go, but you have to keep my little baby safe,” he smiled, kissing your swollen belly and then bringing his lips to yours, giving you a small peck.

“I’m gonna go check on her, make sure she’s got her costume all set. Why don’t you go downstairs and relax, you seem a little high strung today,” he teased, walking out of your bedroom together and into your daughters room.

“Of course I’m high strung, Spence. I’m a thousand months pregnant and you’re taking my daughter away from me to walk around alone in the dark.” You felt yourself tearing up, one again out of control of your emotions. Being pregnant fucking sucked.

“Do you not trust me to keep Immy safe? Do you know what I do for a living?” Spencer laughed, and you rolled your eyes in annoyance as you walked down the stairs to go flop on your couch.

You felt the baby kick, and you placed a hand on your belly. You both decided not to find out the gender, the same thing you did with your last pregnancy. Spencer loved not knowing, claiming you got ‘more gifts’ if you didn’t know. But it drove you crazy. Even though you didn't know for sure, Spencer was convinced it was a boy. He wanted a son so bad, so you played along with his fantasy, but you were pretty certain it was a girl. You felt the same as you did when you were pregnant with Imogen, even craving the same foods as before. You had a mother's instinct- you knew who she was.

You leaned your head back on the couch, closing your eyes to rest for a moment. You seemed to be constantly exhausted, despite spending most of the day sleeping. You slowly rubbed your belly, always afraid that if you went too long without touching her she would forget you.

“You ready, Mommy?” You heard Spencer’s voice say, from the top of the stairs. You smiled happily, keeping your eyes closed as the two of them came down to the living room in their costumes.

“Let me see my loves!” You responded, giggling in anticipation as you awaited your daughters first Halloween costume.

“Look at me, Mommy! I’m so pretty!” Imogen said, Spencer holding the girl in his arms. You opened your eyes to see her dressed as a fairy- exactly what she wanted. You felt yourself tearing up, which were a mix of happy and sad tears.

“You both look so amazing!” You stuttered, trying to get your words out through muffled cries.

“Don’t cry, Mommy!” Immy pouted, wriggling out of Spencer’s arms and onto the couch to give you a hug.

“Oh, I’m not sad, Im. You’re just so pretty!” You kissed her on the top of the head, trying not to mess up her costume.

“We should probably get going soon. I don’t want to be out too late,” Spencer frowned, checking his watch and looking outside to see if it was getting dark yet.

“Right, of course. Please keep me updated, okay?”

“Of course, my love.”

“Have fun, you guys. Be safe!”

Spencer and Imogen waved goodbye to you, blowing you a kiss as they walked out the door. You tried your best not to cry as they drove away, trying to focus on getting ready to hand candy out to other kids. You knew it was probably just your anxiety, and the fact that you and Spence had been watching scary movies every night for the past month- but you had a bad feeling about tonight. And it was only a short time later when you realized your feeling was right.

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Spencer was one of the smartest men alive- that was indisputable. But where he excelled in book smarts, sometimes his common sense was lacking. Like how he was consistently forgetting to charge his phone. So when it died after only an hour of trick or treating- probably because he hadn’t stopped taking pictures since they left- he felt like a huge idiot. Especially considering how much you reminded him to plug it in every night before bed.

But he tried not to panic, convincing himself he had recorded enough of the night to satisfy you. Plus, now he could really be in the moment with his daughter, which was what it was all about, right?

“C'mon Daddy,” Imogen groaned, pulling Spencer by the arm up to another house. And as Spencer followed his daughter, he realized where they were. This was the house. The ‘haunted house’ house that you talked about every Halloween, that the both of you were so excited for Immy to experience herself. And Spencer had promised you a thousand times over that he would record the entire experience.

‘Fuck,’ he thought to himself, shaking his head in disappointment, preparing for the inevitable fight when he had to tell you he didn’t record it. Unless, they just don’t go? That could work, right? He would just tell you that they didn’t do it this year, and next Halloween they could all go together. The plan was perfect. Except for one thing.

“Please, Daddy. I really wanna go to this house,” his daughter frowned, crossing her arms in frustration.

“Immy, please just listen to Dad, okay. Not this house.” His daughter was persistent and adorable, which made this incredibly difficult.

“No. I want to go to this one.”

“Imogen Josephine, when your Dad tells you no, you have to listen.”

“No! I want to go!” She turned around quickly, running up the driveway to the house. Spencer rolled his eyes in annoyance, chasing after her. She was running quickly, not paying attention to her surroundings. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and Spencer knew it. But he couldn’t catch up to her before disaster struck. She tripped over one of the decorations, falling on the pavement and falling on her arm.

“Ow!” She yelled, her eyes filling with tears as she sat on the ground. Spencer caught up with her, immediately getting on the ground and checking on her.

“Imogen! This is why you listen to me when I tell you no!�� He yelled in frustration, trying to see just how bad her scrapes and cuts were.

“Don’t yell at me!” She responded, now fully crying and screaming.

“I’m sorry, peanut. I didn’t mean to get mad,” Spencer responded, wiping the tears from her cheeks and picking her up.

“My arm really hurts,” she wept, holding her now swollen wrist away from them.

“Okay, peanut, I think we need to go to the hospital and get that checked out,” Spencer instructed, carrying his daughter down the street and back towards their car. He knew you were going to kill him when he got a call from the hospital. He felt sick to his stomach as he got Immy in the car and started driving. What an absolute nightmare. Maybe he couldn’t do it without you. Maybe his skills as a parent were only valid if you were around to watch him.

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Seeing all of the cute kids in their costumes was definitely making you feel better. You knew you had to trust Spencer. He was an amazing Dad and husband, and he would always take care of your girl. You knew he would.

But, everything seemed to fall apart in about five minutes. It all started when you went to check Spencer’s location, a bad habit that you knew wouldn’t solve anything. When it popped up that he couldn’t be located, you felt your stomach flip and your heart skip a beat.

“Damnit Spence. Charge your fucking phone…” you whispered, shaking your head and digging your nails into your palms. It was okay, though. He was fine, they were fine. Right?

And then the worst possible thing could’ve happened. You felt a weird pain in your abdomen, one that caused you to nearly double over and fall on the floor. Only a few seconds later, it made sense. Your water broke.

You weren’t due for another two weeks. This could not be happening. There’s no way. But another contraction a few minutes later made it clear- you were having your baby, and Spencer had no phone. Holy shit.

You reached for your phone and instinctively called JJ, telling yourself it was because she lived the closest but also knowing she was the only person who could handle being in the delivery room with you if you couldn’t find your husband.

“I’m going to kill him,” you screamed into the phone, not even bothering to greet your friend or explain the situation.

“Woah, okay kiddo. What’s going on?”

“His phone is dead, and I am having this damn baby. I am going to kill him.”

“Oh, Jesus (Y/N). Okay… um… we can figure this out. Do you know what neighborhood they're in?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll send Will to go drive around and look for them. In the meantime, I am coming to pick you up and take you to the hospital. Just relax, take a few deep breaths. Everything will be fine.”

You hung up the call and grabbed your hospital bag, patiently waiting by the door. JJ was only about ten minutes away, but it felt like you were waiting for hours. You tried calling Spencer’s phone a few times, but it went right to voicemail. This could not be happening. Holy shit, this could not be happening.

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Spencer pulled into the emergency room parking lot, whipping his car through the lines as his daughter cried in the backseat. He finally found a spot, parking terribly and quickly grabbing Imogen.

“We’re here now, peanut, everything’s gonna be okay,” he reassured her, not truly believing the words himself. His heart was racing, his breath shaky and his mind going a million miles a minute. He needed to talk to you as soon as possible- he needed you to tell him, and your daughter, everything would be okay.

“Hi, um, my daughter fell and hurt her arm. I just need to get her checked in,” he spoke, his voice quick and panicky as he stood at the desk.

“Of course. What’s her name and date of birth?” The woman asked, smiling kindly at the two of them.

“Imogen Josephine Reid. She was born April 8th, 2017.”

“Oh, wonderful, I’ve got her file right here. Let’s get her admitted.”

Spencer stood impatiently, holding his daughters hand as she stood next to him, watching the secretary take her sweet time to admit Imogen. Spencer was tapping his foot in frustration, which Imogen quickly noticed, placing her free hand on his knee and telling him to stop. Spencer just laughed at his daughter, who was always so unapologetic, always just telling people whatever thoughts came to her head.

“Oh no, this is not good,” a familiar voice behind him said. He turned around quickly and saw JJ, a nauseated look on her face.

“What are you doing here…” Spencer asked, furrowing his brows in confusion. She appeared just fine, and she wasn’t with anyone else.

“Spencer, don’t freak out, but-”

“SPENCER REID!” You yelled, your face red and voice fuming.

“Wait, what is going on?” Spencer looked at you, confused, as you were being wheeled into the emergency room by a nurse.

“Why are you at the emergency room, Spencer? What happened to Imogen?”

“Hi Mommy! I fell and hurt my arm!” Imogen responded, her face stained with tears and her costume ripped from the fall.

“What?” You were seething, staring at Spencer with wide eyes. You were about to yell again, but your whole body seized and pain shot through your body. Another contraction. They were getting closer, and you knew it was only a matter of time before this baby came out. You whined loudly, gripping onto the arm of the chair and closing your eyes in pain.

“We need to get you in a room now, Mrs. Reid,” the nurse instructed, looking at JJ and Spencer.

“Wait… are you… are we having a baby?” Spencer’s eyes got wide, excitement filling his face as he realized what was going on.

“Yes, Spencer. Maybe you could try to not let this one break their arm,” you yelled, immediately noticing Spencer’s shit in tone as you yelled at him.

“Okay, okay, everyone. I’m sure what happened with Immy was an accident, right Spence?”

“Yes, yes I promise. She was running and tripped…”

“See, (Y/N)! Just an accident. So why don’t I take her to go see the Doctor and you guys can go… have your baby,” JJ smiled, doing her best to handle the situation. She was used to dealing with yours and Spencer's chaos. She was also Imogen’s godmother, and she did not take that role lightly.

“Okay… okay… let’s go have our baby.”

“Let’s go have our baby!”

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On November 1st, 2020, at 1:17 AM, your second daughter was born. You weren’t shocked at all when the doctors told you it was a girl, but Spencer was at a loss for words. They wrapped your small newborn in a blanket and handed her back to you. You were even more in love with her than you thought possible, and so was your husband.

JJ and Imogen were in the waiting room, along with Will and the rest of the team. Immy’s arm was fine- nothing more than a bad bruise. They had given her a halloween ice pack and a bag full of candy, to which JJ allowed her to have a little too much, and she crashed from the sugar rush pretty hard. She was passed out in Uncle Rossi’s arms, drooling chocolate all over his pajamas.

“Guys… she’s here.” Spencer smiled, walking out of the delivery room to share the news with his family.

“She? Another girl? I knew it. You owe me twenty bucks, Derek,” Garcia giggled, Derek rolling his eyes in response.

“Can we meet her?” JJ asked, happy to have another little girl to spoil.

“Of course. Come on!”

Rossi woke Imogen up, who was thrilled to meet her baby sister. Everyone walked quietly into the room, where you were holding your sleeping daughter in your arms. You were overjoyed to see all of them, knowing they would always be your family, and the first to meet your baby, because they were her family, too.

“Mommy!” Immy yelled, running towards you.

“Shh, be quiet, peanut. She’s sleeping!”

“Got it. Quiet.” Immy whispered, giggly as she looked down on her little sister.

“She looks like you, Spence,” Emily laughed, lightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulder.

“Do you remember how much Imogen looked like (Y/N) when she was born?” JJ asked, smiling down at the two girls.

“We now have a clone of each of us. It’s only a matter of time before we take over the world,” Spencer laughed, his arm wrapped around you and the baby.

“What’s her name?” Hotch asked.

“Lola. Lola Danielle Reid.”

“Welcome to the BAU, Lola.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction

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guudak · 4 years ago

Text

andante, andante

pairing: jungkook / oc genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining word count: 7,522 The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.

“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?”

“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.”

You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”

“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be.

“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head.

“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”

Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”

The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ”

He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.

You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -

i’m sorry

im so so sorry.

can we talk

please

You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.

You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.

hi jungkook i’d love to talk

are u ok

Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.

In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.

“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled.

At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.

“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs.

A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother.

The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?

“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back.

“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.”

“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you.

You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.

“Hey, cutie.”

And there it was.

Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”

A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh.

“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”

Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.

“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”

“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.

“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”

Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”

“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him.

He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.”

Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”

He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.

“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?”

“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”

He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.”

“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest.

“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”

Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”

A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so.

“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.

Then came the finale.

The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up.

Exhibit one -

“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed.

It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila.

You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Exhibit two -

“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in.

She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?

Exhibit three -

“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”

You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!”

“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”

You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook.

So that was that.

By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.

And finally: exhibit four.

“Hey.”

You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next.

You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?��

His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.

Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature.

“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”

Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?”

Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven.

His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.”

Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks.

Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name.

He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”

It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all.

Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms.

“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’

No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.

No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.

It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.

There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell.

Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him.

“You remember anything from yesterday?”

“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.”

“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”

“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”

Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.

“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.

The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.

Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head.

His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.

The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed.

You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring.

“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion.

“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”

“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”

He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”

You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.”

Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.”

You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”

He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”

His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers.

“Not just the alcohol talking?”

“No.”

You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.

“Sor—“

“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.”

You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.

He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room.

Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right?

While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered.

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”

The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him.

He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.

“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape.

“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.

You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead.

You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed.

In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.

For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.

At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm.

And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been.

“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.

“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”

“Scooch over, babe.”

Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.

The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground.

Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.”

“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”

He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”

“What, where?”

“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.”

Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.

Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.

Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”

You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.”

“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”

Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”

“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.

He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?”

“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”

“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”

You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously.

“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous.

“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye.”

The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.

“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”

“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”

“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”

You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath.

It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place?

“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”

You hear the voice before you see the face.

Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook.

“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point.

Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.

Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again.

“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.

It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior.

The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.

His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.

You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.

He blinks. “You … you have?”

You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”

After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.”

You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.

“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.

“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”

“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.”

“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you.

His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”

You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?”

“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.”

You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.

“How long?”

He exhales. “A while.”

“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”

He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”

“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”

At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.

Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.

Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.

“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”

A pause.

“What do you mean?”

“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”

He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”

“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”

He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”

“Should we try it?”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.

“But then it’ll be awkward.”

“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”

A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear.

“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”

If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.

But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.

He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.

Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.

“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.

In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees.

“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.”

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”

It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate.

The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you.

Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.

It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder.

When was the last time someone looked at you like that?

The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.

When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him.

“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper.

“I’m embarrassed.”

You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”

“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.”

“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing.

“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”

“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”

“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”

“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”

His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.”

“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.

It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”

Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”

His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.

“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”

a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99

originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader

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apollostears · 4 years ago

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don’t look, don’t touch | l. zhang

Request: A night out on your honeymoon turns into something more when others can’t stop touching what’s his.

Fandom: EXO

Pairing: Lay Zhang x black!reader

Warning(s): angst-ish, smut, light spanking, dirty talk, & swearing

Creator: maya

A/N: this took me forever to write and i am so sorry!! hope you love it!! xx

*gif not mine*

New marital bliss was a thing. Oh My God was it a thing! You had never seen Lay so at peace and happy then when you did after y’all had gotten married.

His energy matched yours and anyone from a mile away could tell that y’all were newlyweds. Well...almost everyone.

“You’re looking a little too sexy for dinner in a hotel restaurant.” Yixing’s voice was light as he emerged from the bathroom, his hands fastening his cufflinks.

You smirked at him through the floor-length mirror. “Is my handsome husband being a little possessive?” You teased, sending him a wink through your reflection as you applied some gloss to your lips.

Yixing wore a knowing smile on his face as he approached you. Coming up behind you, he caressed your curves through your silk dress and pressed himself up against you.

“Not all, my darling wife, i’m just feeling sorry for all the men that will never know what it’s like to have a Goddess at their side.” He spoke into your ear before pressing a kiss to the tip of it.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you couldn’t help but smile at his loving compliment. “You are such a romantic.”

“I can show you how much of a romantic I am. What do you say Mrs. Zhang?” Yixing was a devil and he knew that as he lightly nibbled on your neck.

You had to suppress your own desires as you wiggled your way out his arms. “Sorry baby, but it’s day four of our honeymoon and you’ve had me to yourself this whole time.”

Making your way across the room, you slipped your heels on and grabbed the shiny room key that matched the aesthetic of the building.

Peering over your shoulder, you saw your lover pouting. “The faster we eat, the faster you have me to yourself.” You bribed him with a light voice.

Yixing perked up a bit at that, grabbing the rest of his things and following you out the door.

That didn’t stop him from making a mess of your lips on the short trip down to the lobby. By the time the doors opened, his lips were glossy and yours weren’t.

“If I look a hot mess when we get off this elevator Yi, we fighting.” You warned, stepping off the elevator before him.

“Mhm, i’m sure.” He responded, placing a hand at the small of your back as the two of you walked towards the host.

The young male smiled at you two, ready to make a good impression. “Good evening, how may I be of service to you today?”

While Yixing handled the reservations, your eyes wandered to the decor of the resturant. Although a hotel resort was where you were staying, the place never lacked in its interior design. It felt like some high-end place off fifth avenue and you were so grateful that Yixing decided on something like this.

“Holy shit, [Y/N] [L/N], I can’t believe it’s you!” A voice you never thought you’d hear again, had startled you from your thoughts.

Shifting your gaze, you found the culprit. It was your ex, the one before Yixing, and he stood with a group of men in dress suits.

A soft smile found your lips and you gave a small wave. “Hey Ezekiel, long time no see.”

Your tone was light, having no ill-will to the person who ultimately led you to your soulmate. “I never thought I’d see you again! How have you been?” He questioned, giving you a side hug, but not removing his arm.

“Very good actually, just here with my husband. How about you?”

Casual as ever, you naturally removed yourself from his extended embrace and politely waited for him to answer. The shocked look on his face bringing you more satisfaction than normal.

“Husband? You got married?” Mouth agape and eyes wide in shock.

Before you could speak, Yixing had appeared next to you with a firm hand on your waist. “Honey, our table is ready. Who is this?”

Ezekiel was in even more shock to see the handsome man that had became your husband. With a smile, you introduced the two and could feel Yixing tighten his grip on you.

“Nice to meet you but we have to go.” You barely had time to squeeze out a farewell before Yixing pulled you to y’all’s table.

You pouted at his behavior and kept a confused look on your face as you got ready to speak to him.

“So...what was that about?” You asked, picking up your menu to hide your face from his eyes. You wanted to seem causal about the situation, the only emotion showing would be confusion.

“They have that wine that you like, want me to order you a glass?” Yixing asked, smoothly avoiding the question.

Peering your eyes over the menu, you gave him a glare but didn’t press the issue. “Sure.” Your tone was clipped, but that didn’t seem to phase your husband as he hummed in response.

Men. You thought to yourself before focusing all your attention to the list of items in front of you.

Deciding what you wanted, you put your menu down and studied the man in front of you. Your husband was a work of art, incredibly gorgeous with an aura around him that couldn’t be touched.

He was power and just the very thought of his strength had you squirming in your seat.

Noticing this, Yixing raised his eyes over the menu. “Something wrong?”

His concerning voice went straight to your core as you put on a tight smile. “Nothing honey. Do you know what you want? The waiter is coming.”

You had already caught him coming up behind your husband and he was a little on the cute side, but very young. You’d call him adorable, a puppy.

Nodding his head, Yixing closed his menu and put it on top of yours just as the man had arrived.

“Good evening, my name is Lei and it’ll be my pleasure to serve you.” The young man had introduced himself, all his attention on you.

But you were too caught up in the way his name was like your husband’s.

“Awe babe! His name is like yours!” You cooed, looking at your man excitedly.

Yixing hummed in response, his eyes focusing on the male who blatantly disrespected him in front of his wife. Not to mention the way he was trying to pry on you like you weren’t on a date.

The young man’s smile was beautiful, bashful that you were cooing over him. “What’s your name beautiful?” He asked, shifting so his body would cover Yixing.

Pulled from your ignorance, you noticed what he was doing. The kid was trying to lay game in front of your husband and shamelessly check you out.

Just as you had prepared yourself to speak, Yixing was up and by your side quickly.

“Her name is none of your damn business. I’ll be sure to leave a comment with the manager about your behavior kid.” He spoke sharply, before turning to look at you. “We’re leaving, lets go.”

You were stunned to say the least and your movements were robotic as you let Yixing guide you out of the restaurant.

Once y’all stepped foot on the elevator, you had finally processed everything. Your husband was seething, he was tense as he stood slightly in front of you. You were unsure on if you should speak, but decided it might be best to do so.

“Yi...what’s wrong hun?” Your voice was soft, nonthreatening so you wouldn’t set him off.

“When we get in this room, I want that dress off and you on your hands and knees on the bed.” Yixing’s voice was stern, reigniting the flame in your belly.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, surprised at his dominating nature. He wasn’t always like this with you, but it never failed to take you by surprise.

Yixing didn’t appreciate your silence and he turned his head to the side and glared at you from his peripheral. “Am I clear?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stuttered out your answer and soon licked your lips after, feeling your mouth go dry from the thoughts of what he’d do to you.

The elevator bell dinged and the pristine doors slid open. Yixing stepped out first and you followed. Letting you in the room first, you hurried to the room and did as told. A chill ran down your spine as the cold air hit your bareback.

The electric blue panties you wore felt damp against your core as you waited in anticipation. Hearing the front door click and dress shoes hitting the marble floor, you craned your neck to see Yixing come in the room.

His tie was loosened and his top two buttons were undone. His hands worked to unfasten his cuff links and your eyes almost rolled back at the sight.

“Face forward.” He commanded, not even glancing your way.

You swallowed a desperate whine and did as he said. The expensive curtains were pulled back and you could see all the lights of Shanghai.

Pulled from your thoughts, a sharp smack to your ass cheeks had you jolting forward in surprise. “Ahh!” A cry of surprise escaped past your lips before you could stop it.

Another smack followed and your ass was caressed shortly after, blending the lines between pain and pleasure.

“I wanted to take my wife out on a date, but instead was met with men who couldn’t seem to tell who she belonged to. Now I have to mark what’s mine.”

You didn’t stop the small moan that escaped your lips as you clenched your pussy around nothing. Yixing was hardly like this, choosing to make love instead. Those guys must’ve really pissed him off.

“I’m ready daddy.” You assured, giving him the green light to do as he pleased.

Yixing hummed in content and you soon felt a dip in the bed behind you. Wet lips and cold fingers covered your ass, close to where you wanted him most.

“My good girl, always ready to please her daddy.” He cooed, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your mound. The other, pulling at your nipples.

Your back arched and you moaned, your hips rolling back for more friction. The sting of force that spread across your cheek made you moan even louder, having grown accustomed to the sharp feeling.

“Such a slut aren’t you? Wearing that dress, allowing men to look at what’s mine. This is what you wanted isn’t it?” Yixing roughly pulled at your nipple and slapped your pussy causing more moans to tumble from your lips.

Panties slid to the side, Yixing began to tease your wet hole, groaning at the slick that had already started to form.

“Fuck you get so wet.”

You slightly pushed your hips back, hoping to get his fingers to slide in. Noticing what you were trying to do, Yixing gave a dark chuckle and situated you so that the top half of your body was hanging off the edge of the bed and your lower half was draped across his lap.

The sound of fabric tearing sounded through the room and you were sad to see the electric blue panties tossed to the floor. “I’ll buy you more.” He muttered, silencing any issues you had with his abrasive behavior.

“I’m going to fuck you using my fingers; don’t move and don’t speak, understood?” Yixing spoke sternly in your ear, pulling at your hair a bit.

Your breaths were quick and short from his touch alone. You were sure you’d be feeling everything that he gave you tonight. “Yes sir.”

Yixing rubbed your clit a bit and you struggled to stay still, but when he suddenly plunged two fingers deep in your pussy, you really had to find some strength not to move. Clenching your fist around the Egyptian sheets, your hole clamped around Yixing’s fingers.

“Relax for me love, I got you.” He cooed, rubbing circles on your lower back to relax your muscles.

Letting out a deep breath, you focused on relaxing and tried hard not to make a sound as he pistoned his fingers through your pussy. Any other time, you’d feel self-conscious of the sounds coming from your hole, the slickness of your juices creating air pockets of noise, but you were so strung out you couldn’t care.

“So warm and tight—shit! I can’t fucking wait to replace my fingers with my cock.” Yixing’s mouth spewed vulgarities and you could only listen. His dirty talk made you grow wetter and you could feel the knot of pleasure forming.

Tears blurred your eyes as you reached a euphoric state, a third finger slipped through your barrier and violated you in the best way possible. A choked sob was held back in your throat with your teeth biting down on your tongue. Toes curled and back stiff as a rod, a wave of pleasure came crashing over your body as you shook with tremors and clamped around Yixing’s fingers.

“That’s it princess, good girl.” He praised, relishing in the way your walls fluttered rapidly around his fingers. Once you calmed down, he slowly removed his fingers and licked them clean, enjoying your taste.

Breathing heavily, your eyes were still closed as you came down from your first orgasm of the night. Gently sitting you up, Yixing cupped your face and brought his lips o yours for a passionate kiss.

Feeling yourself sink into his arms, you leaned more into the kiss and moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue. Yixing pulled away first, attacking your neck in love bites while you sat there in his lap, allowing yourself to be loved on and marked.

“You are everything to me Mrs. Zhang and I want the whole world to know.”

“Show them then.” You softly said, cupping his face in your hand and staring deep into his eyes.

Capturing your lips in another kiss, you felt yourself being lowered back onto the bed, a comfortable weight settling over you. Seperating for just a moment, Yixing made haste removing his clothing and shoes, tossing them wherever before climbing back on top of you.

“You ready?” He asked you, holding eye contact with you as he awaited your answer.

Nearly five years together and he still asks for consent, it makes butterflies erupt in you every time. Nodding your head, you smiled. “As always.”

Without further prompting, Yixing’s grabbed the base of his cock and slowly rubbed it against your folds, moaning with you at the feeling. “Please baby, I need you.” Whines spilled from your lips like an apology, desperately wanting to be filled by him.

With a smirk, he did as asked. With a swift snap of his hips, he buried his cock deep into your pussy. Your mouth dropped open and your breast were pushed upwards as you arched your back. Sweat had began to form and your pussy contracted wildly while moans pushed past your lips.

“Fuccckkk.”

Yixing gritted his teeth as he tried to focus on not nutting just from your face alone. He always told you how pretty you looked while getting fucked and if you kept squeezing him like that, he would surely buss quick.

“God, you’re so tight! Fit me so well baby, shit!” Yixing swore, slowly moving his hips back and forth to gain a rhythm.

In no time, Yixing was pounding into your pussy at a speed that border fast and slow. Pulling his hips back enough to snap them back into you, making his cock hit your spot every time. Your hands wandered his body while moans tumbled out, your nails dragging down his biceps before pulling him closer to you. This fuck was different than the ones you’ve had since being here. While it started off rough, Yixing is handling your body in the softest way possible.

His hands were positioned on either side of your head, gripping the sheets there. His eyes were mesmerized by the way your tits jiggled with each thrust he gave. It was becoming too much to bear. “I love you. I love you so much.” The words came from Yixing’s lips in urgency.

Tears had started to form again and you reached your hands up to pull him into a kiss. Using your tongue to caress the inside of his mouth, one of your hands began to pull at the hair on the nape of his neck. As his thrusts grew faster, you anchored your legs around his hips to hold on.

Pulling away, you struggled to catch your breath as the knot formed again. “R-rub my clit baby, i’m so close to cumming.” You cried, focusing on the feeling you were about to recieve.

Bringing a hand down to your throbbing clit, Yixing harshly rubbed circles on it, desperate to see you cum. “Oh shit! Right there, right there, right there!” You squealed, bucking your hips into his hand.

Watching your face scrunch up the closer you got to climaxing had Yixing’s cock twitching inside of you. The feeling itself made you moan and clamp down on him as you came hard. Feeling your walls tighten around his cock as you orgasmed, had him cumming right behind you with a violent yell.

Your thighs trembled as Yixing collapsed gently on top of you. The sounds of heavy breathing filled the hotel room while y’all tried to gather yourselves. Lazily, you began to run your fingers through his hair, feeling him relax even more.

“I love you forever Yi. That’s a promise I do not regret making.” You spoke softly, basking in the afterglow of love making.

Tilting his head to the side, Yixing looked up at you and kissed the valley in between your breast. “I am eternally yours and i’m sorry for reacting that way. I love you too much to let you go. You’re going to be the mother of my kids and grow old with me, I can’t have anyone else thinking otherwise.”

All you could do was smile at your husband’s slight possessive behavior. Marriage wasn’t going to be easy, but with him by your side, you could get through anything.

Taglist: @knjkitten @olamidey

#kmimagines #ambw imagines #kpop imagines #black!reader #exo #exo x black!reader #exo imagines #lay zhang #lay zhang x black!reader #lay zhang imagines #yixing #zhang yixing x black!reader #mayawrites #requested #exo smut #lay zhang x reader #exo lay #exo lay smut #smut

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blanchimont · 4 years ago

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sober up

characters: jeon wonwoo x female reader

genre: college au, slight angst

warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 5.5k

summary: as much as you want to deny that what you feel for wonwoo is just a stupid little crush, your heart breaks and you have the strong urge to cry nonetheless whenever you think of him.

note: i wrote this the entire day while paying barely any attention to my online classes lmao pls enjoy <3

“So what are your thoughts about Wonwoo?” Mingyu offhandedly asks you as the both of you ate breakfast before heading for your 9AM class. He doesn’t miss the way you whirl the spoon inside your coffee mug a bit stronger than you’d like, causing some of the liquid to drip out onto the tabletop. He doesn’t say anything about it and just waits for you to answer.

“Thoughts as in...what do you mean?” You ask in response, briefly glancing at the man in front of you before looking away to drink your coffee that was still a little bit too hot. You frown behind the mug and you aren’t so sure if it’s because you almost burned your mouth or it’s because of the intention behind your best friend’s question.

“You know what I mean,” Mingyu sighs.

No, I don’t know what you mean. You think to yourself, but you don’t want to say that out loud especially with how intimidating Mingyu looks like right now. You feel like you’re being interrogated for a crime you don’t know you committed—okay, but maybe you did do something for him to stare at you like that.

The thing is, you pride in yourself for always being a responsible drinker. Whenever your friends would invite you to join them have dinner and drink to end the stressful week in college, you often end up being one of the most sober-looking people among your peers by the end of the night. One bottle of alcohol is enough for you to feel buzzed, and sometimes you don’t even get to finish the entire bottle. Because of that, you sort of feel proud that you’ve never done anything foolish yet while intoxicated, unlike your friends who had you doubling over in laughter, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes because of how stupid and scandalous they can get when they’ve had too much alcohol in their system.

It just so happens—and you swear you have no idea why—that you decided to drink more than you could last weekend while out with Mingyu and the rest of his friend group who adopted you, and suddenly you had more friends than you ever anticipated.

It’s not that you did something so scandalous, but you do feel embarrassed because it was so...out of character for you to do it. You really wanted to blame Soonyoung for asking you that question, but you also blame yourself for losing the filter in your mouth that you ended up answering him way too honestly for your liking.

“—Okay, okay that’s enough Seokmin. How about you,” Soonyoung calls your attention and you wince at how you immediately felt your world spinning when you turned to your left to look at him. The boy laughs at your dazed state before continuing, “What do you think of our Wonwoo over here?”

You stare at the said boy who half-absentmindedly drank the entire can of beer in one go. You think he’s acting like he didn’t hear Soonyoung ask the question but you’re aware that he’s also waiting for you to say something.

And even before you could stop yourself to organize the thoughts inside your head because holy shit—he looks a hundred times more attractive tonight and you aren’t sure anymore if your head is spinning because of the alcohol or because of the way Wonwoo just looks so insanely beautiful—the answer you give Soonyoung leaves everyone on the table looking at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“He’s insanely attractive. I think I have a crush on him, actually.” You’re drunk as fuck but you’re also hyperaware that Wonwoo’s staring at you. So you chug down the remaining alcohol left in your bottle. You wanted to dig your own grave right then and there.

You grimace when you see Mingyu leaning closer to get your attention back. He raises his eyebrows at you and you wish you just really ended up blacking out that night so you could use the I-don’t-remember-what-happened card on him.

“I think Wonwoo’s a really nice and thoughtful friend, even if there’s this weird...mysterious aura to him. He listens well to the people around him,” you finally answer your friend. Suddenly you want the time to go faster so Mingyu could no longer interrogate you and you can finally head to your creative nonfiction class.

Mingyu stops acting like you committed a crime and continues eating the pasta in front of him. “I’m sure you know you said a different answer last Saturday.”

“Look,” you drop the fork on your plate and sigh. “I was drunk, okay? Had way too much alcohol than I anticipated. I didn’t—”

“You didn’t mean it?” Mingyu squints his eyes at you.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Is it wrong to say I have a crush on one of your close friends? Am I breaking a best friend code between us that I didn’t know about?”

You sound defensive and you hate how high your voice got the more you bombarded Mingyu with questions. He was really good at riling you up so early in the morning.

“It’s not that,” your friend shakes his head and finishes up his food. You still haven’t consumed even half of yours. “I actually approve of the two of you, just so you know.”

“What the fuck, Mingyu. It’s just a stupid crush.”

“Yeah it sure is.” You really hate how he’s narrowing his eyes at you right now. “Then why are you avoiding each other? It’s been four days and it’s fucking annoying already.”

“I’m not avoiding him. Midterms just ended and finals are around the corner sooner than you’d like. We’re all busy. And I don’t want to bring up to him what I said. That was so out of character for me to do.”

“Okay, but it’s driving me insane that the both of you have been acting strangely since then.” Mingyu rubs his hands over his face.

You pause. “What do you mean Wonwoo’s been acting strange?”

“Since that Saturday night I’ve been trying to bring you up in our conversations just to get a reaction out of him.” You roll your eyes, what an idiot. “I know you guys didn’t talk about what happened afterwards. Either he flinches or makes this weird face or flees the moment I mention you.”

“Mingyu you’re a fucking idiot.”

“You are too. I am aware that you hate talking about your feelings and I would be proud of you for saying that last Saturday because that was such a huge step in getting out of your comfort zone but you were stupidly drunk and the both of you acted like nothing happened.”

Mingyu’s right and this very fact pisses you off. You were never good at verbally expressing your true, honest, and raw feelings towards anyone. It physically and mentally pains you to do so. Sometimes you want to blame your upbringing, how showing any signs of emotions ranging from affection to sadness to anger seemed very taboo within your family. It left you unable to sort your own feelings out as you grew up, so now you ended up being too quiet, dishonest, and afraid of being vulnerable in front of anyone. But you don’t really want to blame anything or anyone else because for fuck’s sake, you’re already in your twenties and it’s about time that you should be more responsible. Yet you’re aware that you’re acting childish around Mingyu because he’s confronting you about something you didn’t want to deal with ever.

“But Gyu,” you take a deep breath, suddenly feeling anger bubbling inside of you. You don’t even know why. “It’s just a stupid crush. It’s not a big deal.”

There you are again, downplaying and being in denial of your own feelings. You know it’s not just a stupid crush. You’ve been head over heels for Wonwoo since Mingyu introduced you to his friend group. You’ve been head over heels for him ever since he sat beside you in silence to keep you company while the rest of the boys went crazy in front of the karaoke, unintentionally leaving you out because they were having so much fun and it’s not their fault and it’s okay because Wonwoo’s beside you. He’s been occupying your thoughts ever since he showed you the brightest smile you’ve seen from him when he spotted you sitting alone at the second row of the lecture hall, taking the seat next to you so you wouldn’t feel too lonely when no one else wanted to sit near the front. You felt so embarrassed after noticing that Wonwoo had to make himself feel smaller in his chair so he wouldn’t block anyone behind him while the professor droned on and on about art history. He really didn’t have to keep you company at the expense of sitting comfortably in class. You couldn’t stop thinking of him ever since he let you borrow some of his books, and you didn’t even ask him to do it but you figured he did it anyway because you said you needed inspiration for your creative writing class. And you wanted to cry because you think you’re in love with the way his mind works after realizing that the books he lent you were really good. You like him so much and you feel insane for feeling this way because it’s only been a few months since you’ve known him and the two of you don’t really talk as often as you wished you would so you can get to know him better, but that doesn’t stop you from catching these unnecessary feelings for him—

“But would you date him if you had the opportunity?” Mingyu interrupts your train of thought.

Alright, that’s enough. You stand up and fix the things inside your bag, preparing to leave and head for your class. “I would but I don’t really want to date right now, not ever. You know I told you that already.”

“You wouldn’t even give him a chance?” Mingyu pouts and mirrors your actions as he realizes that the conversation really isn’t heading where he wanted it to.

“I just casually confessed that I have a crush on him. Stop making a big deal out of it. That’s all I did that night, alright?”

You don’t miss the way Mingyu stares at you for a moment before he nods and leads the two of you out of the cafe. You swallow the lump in your throat because you have this ugly, terrifying feeling that Mingyu knows something you don’t, that there’s more to just you drunkenly saying you liked Wonwoo.

And now you’re starting to doubt if you really remembered how things played out that night.

You bump into Wonwoo sooner than you wanted to. And you feel stupid because your first instinct upon seeing him walking down the hallway towards your direction was to turn the other way around and take the other flight of stairs, even if it meant consuming more travel time to head to your next class that was starting in ten minutes.

You almost let out a sigh of relief because you successfully avoided confronting Wonwoo—or so you think. You jump when you feel warm fingers wrap around your wrist and you nearly bump into the chest of the man you wanted to run away from when you turn around.

“Hi, sorry about that,” you mumble as you take a step backwards to give him more space. He was wearing a plain oversized gray shirt, black jeans, and a worn out beanie. If this was any other guy on campus, you would’ve rolled your eyes at how he lacks good fashion sense and how he dresses so similarly like all the other college boys (except Minghao, god bless that man). But this is Wonwoo and you have this urge to cry because he looks ridiculously good in whatever type of clothing he wears, and it’s not fair—

“It’s fine. Are you heading towards your next class?”

You are about to answer him but the classroom next to where the two of you are standing just got dismissed, so there is a surge of students leaving and occupying the already cramped hallway. You almost lose your mind when you feel Wonwoo’s hand on your arm, pulling you close to him after a huge guy bumped into you and left without an apology.

Wonwoo stares at you like he wants to say something else, but before he could, you stop him because you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that. “Yeah, it starts real soon, actually. I should leave.”

You don’t even realize that his hand is still resting on your arm until he dropped it and put some distance between the two of you. “Right. I shouldn’t keep you waiting.”

But Wonwoo does nothing but just stands in front of you. You have half the mind to apologize for what you said last Saturday night, then you realize that what will probably come out next from your mouth is to tell him to forget about it. But you honestly, honestly do not want him to forget about what you said. Yet you aren’t also prepared to face the repercussion of your actions. So you nod your head and think that it’s best to act like nothing happened.

“I’ll...see you around then.”

You think you see Wonwoo’s smile falter slightly, but when you blink he’s already grinning at you. “Okay, bye.”

You turn around and your legs feel like jelly as you walk down the stairs. You have the urge to stop halfway just to cry and you don’t even know why you want to. But you’re running late for your class, so you pick up your pace so no one would steal your seat in the front row.

Maybe you aren’t sure whether it was worse pretending like nothing happened than just explicitly telling Wonwoo to forget that you ever confessed that you have a huge crush on him.

You refused to see Wonwoo around after that encounter.

Mingyu invited you to hang out with the boys at Vernon’s place, yet even before he could spill all the details about who’s coming and who’s not, you reject his offer, making an excuse that you still have a case report to finish even though you’ve already submitted that two days ago.

“You’re not avoiding Wonwoo hyung, are you?” He stares at you as he leans against the door frame of your bedroom. He is dressed so nicely and you want to compliment him but he’s beginning to piss you off again.

“Mingyu.” You whirl around in your desk chair and stare at him.

Despite your threatening tone, he pushes himself off the doorframe and sits on your bed. “You’re really annoying whenever you start crushing on someone, you know?”

You don’t say anything and turn around to put your attention back on your laptop. But the next words that escape Mingyu’s lips leave you frozen in your seat.

“I’m actually starting to think what you feel for hyung is more than just a crush. Like, you seriously like him.”

Since when the fuck was Mingyu this perceptive of your feelings? You feel nervous at your discovery, because perceptive Mingyu means he is going to probe into things you usually keep stashed away from your consciousness. He’s known you for so long that he knows that you have troubles when it comes to dating. It’s not because you’ve had extremely bad experiences before—it’s actually the opposite of it. You’ve never been into any romantic relationship because you believe no one’s ever shown interest in you. You let people’s comments about how cold, intimidating, and unapproachable you are get into your head that you are convinced that no one will like you for who you are. You used to be afraid and insecure that you’ll end up alone, but you’re older and busier now and you’ve come to accept that maybe dating and finding someone who loves you in that way won’t ever be meant for you.

You ignore Mingyu and try your best to focus on reading your lecture notes. You can hear rustling on your bed and you figure that your friend lied down. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think the two of you look good together.”

Your hands itch and you want to throw your pen at Mingyu, but it’s childish to lash out at him. You roll your eyes instead. “I am starting to think you’re the one who likes Wonwoo, especially with the way you keep bringing him up in our conversation.”

“Why can’t you just be brave for once and acknowledge your feelings? Stop pushing them away. You’ll only end up hurting yourself.” You’re shocked at how fast Mingyu moved from your bed to your desk. He’s so much taller than you and he looks intimidating again with how he towers over you while you timidly sit on your chair.

“Can we please not talk about this? I don’t want you or me to be in a bad mood. You’re hanging out with the boys soon.”

“Alright, just answer this one last question before I go.”

You gulp and nod your head because you don’t have any choice left but to concede.

“Why did you and Wonwoo hyung kiss that night and then act like nothing happened when it’s obviously bothering the both of you? I know you’re not the type to act so recklessly and kiss any random people because romantic relationships are uncharted territory for you but Wonwoo hyung is no stranger so why—”

“Wait, what?” You feel your head spinning and there’s this heavy weight pressing on your chest that goes all the way down to your stomach. You want to throw up.

“What?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You think you give Mingyu the shock of his life with how high the pitch of your voice got. But you belatedly realize that it is probably because of how angry and confused you look like right now.

It is Mingyu’s turn to roll his eyes at you. “Don’t use the ‘I-don’t-remember-what-happened’ card on me—”

“No what the fuck seriously, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” There are tears in your eyes and Mingyu gets startled but stays frozen in his spot. You feel so ashamed that whenever you think of Wonwoo you have this urgent need to just break down and cry. Maybe it’s your hormones—you tend to get extremely emotional when you’re nearing your period—or maybe everything about Wonwoo simply makes you sob.

And then it dawns on you how stupid you were when you got drunk that night. Not only did you casually drop the “I have a crush on you bomb” on Wonwoo but you also kissed him? Kissing someone while drunk is totally out of character for you and you want to slam your head against the wall because you seem to never make any good decision when it involves Wonwoo.

Your mind is reeling. You begin thinking that Wonwoo hated the confession and the kiss that’s why he never touched on the topic afterwards. Or maybe he wanted to ask you about it when you bumped into each other a few days ago but he sensed that you wanted to run away. Either way, none of you are handling the situation properly (how the fuck are you supposed to handle it anyway?) and you’re afraid that if you don’t do anything about it soon, things are going to get awkward between you two and if not, you’re going to have to live the rest of your life regretting not saying anything and watch Wonwoo move on with his life as if that incident never happened at all. After all, it’s easy to brush it off and say it was a drunken mistake.

The heavy weight on your chest is pressing on you again. Mingyu’s right, you’re always afraid of confronting your own feelings. The moment you realize that you’re catching feelings for someone, you run away even before you can figure out if the person feels the same way or not. So you end up alone, always standing at the side as you watch your friends get into relationships and look so happy. You always walk silently behind one of your friends and their significant other, not wanting to disturb them. You learn to look away without feeling bitter when couples around you share a quick hug or kiss. You get used to sharing a car ride with your friends and their partners, sitting alone in the backseat in the dark as you laugh along with their ridiculous jokes.

You’re used to being alone while your friends find people who love them unconditionally. You’re happy for them each time it happens—you really are—but sometimes there’s this ugly lump in your throat that forms once your mind starts imagining what it feels like to be in their shoes. And then the dread settles when reality catches on to you and tells you that you won’t ever experience that.

The first time you bare your heart out even just slightly happens with Wonwoo. You’re upset that you’re drunk when it happened, but you’re also relieved because you aren’t sure if you want to know what else went down that night, if you said more to him, and if he said anything at all.

It takes you a while before you realize that Mingyu’s wiping away the tears that spilled from your eyes. He’s wrapping his arms at you so tightly and it’s so warm and you want to cry even more when he starts apologizing profusely for being so pushy about the topic.

The next time you’re invited to hang out with the boys, you don’t have the heart in you to reject the offer again because it’s Soonyoung’s birthday. And although you want to blame the boy for asking that question which started all of this emotional mess inside of you, you have a soft spot for him and you’d hate to see him get sulky around you when you turn him down.

Since the night Mingyu revealed that you and Wonwoo apparently kissed, you’ve only seen the latter twice. The first time was in a coffee shop. You had a thirty-minute break before your next class starts and you were really hungry and sleep-deprived, so you stand in line as you stare at the menu with hazy eyes. As you tap your foot while you glare at the back of the head of the person in front of you, your eyes accidentally look at the source of noise on your right. There, you see Wonwoo sitting on a table with five other people you don’t know, except for Junhui. You feel your eyes twitch when you realize that a girl was sitting so comfortably close next to Wonwoo and you want to look away but the boy is already looking up at locking eyes with you. You almost pretend you don’t see him—that’s what you always do when you walk past people you know because you don’t have an idea whether you should greet them or not—yet Wonwoo flashes you a small smile before paying attention again to what their group was discussing.

This heavy feeling in your chest comes back and you’re afraid that the distance between the two of you grows wider sooner than you want to.

And your fear is further reinforced the second time you see him that same week.

It’s not like Wonwoo always sits beside you in your art history class to keep you company inside the large lecture hall. It probably happened only five times because on most meetings, either Wonwoo comes later than you and there is already someone else sitting next to you, or you spot him sitting at the back of the room and you refuse to go all the way to his row because you prefer being closer to the front. Yet what hurts this time around is you arrive earlier than Wonwoo and you’re sitting alone in your row again but when he arrives, his eyes don't even search the lecture hall for you like he used to, and instead he walks up straight to the back of the room. No one sits next to you for the whole period and even though it usually didn’t bother you, you left the class feeling like shit because someone always used to make you feel less lonely.

So far, Soonyoung’s birthday celebration is going well. You and Wonwoo shared polite smiles but for most of the night, you mingled with completely separate people. Mingyu no longer gives you knowing glances because he still feels guilty about making you cry, but you brush off his very cautious attitude around you and just choose to stick by his side the whole night.

You don’t know where things went wrong but as the night deepened, you suddenly found yourself sitting on one of the benches in the backyard alone with Wonwoo. And you’re drunk, again.

You’re stupidly laughing at Soonyoung who looks like he is on the verge of crying as he defended himself in a game of mafia. You are the first one to get killed because the first round is boring and they randomly decided to gang up on you, so you leave the circle and head back to the kitchen to get more soju to drink. When you come back, Wonwoo is already eliminated and he’s sitting on the bench you mentally reserved for you to occupy alone.

You’re too exhausted to avoid him so you sit on the bench either way. “I called dibs on this bench first.”

Wonwoo pushes up his eyeglasses. “Your name isn’t written here.”

You snort and drink from the bottle. You don’t say anything else and just watch the rest of your friends accuse and betray one another. You think that Wonwoo does the same and you turn to him to check his reaction when Mingyu sets himself up to get killed by the rest but your heart drops when you realize that the boy is already staring at you. “What?”

“Did you mean it last time?”

And there it was again—the urge to run away. The beating of your heart against your chest drowns the loud yelling of the boys and you can only focus on Wonwoo’s unreadable face. He’s really beautiful and it’s upsetting.

You tear your eyes from him to look up at the clear night sky. You wonder if you should just bite the bullet and be honest with your feelings this time. You’re shitscared you’re going to fuck this up so you down some more soju before replying. Your voice suddenly sounds so small. “It’s just a crush. Sorry if I’m making you feel uncomfortable about it.”

It was silent for a while and you brace yourself for the worst, for the part where Wonwoo admits he did feel uncomfortable and says that it’s better that they just forget about it. You prepare to take a deep breath to prevent tears from forming as you absentmindedly listen to Wonwoo turn you down. But it doesn’t happen.

“Do you tend to kiss people you crush on?” Wonwoo’s eyes are still on you and you really want to hide now.

“I’m sorry about that,” you mutter quickly. Your grip on the bottle tightens because you can feel that you’re trembling. “I don’t have a clear memory of that happening but nonetheless I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Wonwoo scoots closer to you and you want to put some distance but the armrest stops you from doing so. He is sitting too close to you and you hate how it feels like your senses have been dialed up to eleven. Even without looking, you can feel his intense gaze on you, his warmth lightly touching you, his breath fanning your face, everything. “But did you mean it?”

You let out a shaky breath. Mingyu’s voice saying you’ll get hurt if you keep pushing your feelings away rings loudly in your ears. You’re already in your twenties and you should be more mature in talking your feelings out but you’re just so so afraid of everything. Wonwoo’s just asking you a question but it feels like you’re going to be executed if you say the wrong answer. Never in your life have you ever been honest with your feelings towards anyone. You have yet to face rejection because you would never say anything, but you know you won’t like the taste of it.

You stare at Wonwoo and you realize once again that you never make good decisions whenever it involves him. To hell with it.

“Yes.”

For a fleeting moment you’re afraid Wonwoo didn’t hear you because your voice was barely above a whisper, but what happens next makes you drop your soju bottle on the grass.

Wonwoo’s lips are on yours and the way you’re holding on to his jacket for dear life brings you back to a distant yet familiar memory, one where you’re clinging on to Wonwoo’s shoulders as he cups your face in his hands and kisses you breathless. You can faintly remember that Saturday night, how you and Wonwoo separated from the group after your drunken confession. If you try harder maybe you’d remember what words were exchanged between the two of you before you tiptoed and placed your lips on his, but the way Wonwoo’s gently biting on your lower lip right now while caressing your sides makes your brain swim inside your skull. You decide not to think anymore and relax yourself against him, kissing him back with the same fervor. You decide to ignore the howling noises your friends are making while Wonwoo kisses you harder as if he hasn’t already been doing that. You decide to focus on his lips on yours and his arms wrapped tightly around you, because that’s all that matters.

You still think you’re dreaming because after that kiss, you and Wonwoo don’t exchange that much words except you finally having the courage to tell him how much he makes you feel happy and less lonely, how much you want to know him better, and how much you don’t want him to be so far from you. You remember Wonwoo reciprocating, saying that he’s been interested in you ever since Mingyu introduced you to the boys. You look shocked when he says that, and he pouts when he realizes that aside from the kiss that Saturday night, you also don’t remember him confessing to you. And then you feel like shit for handling this mess improperly, so you kiss him again as a form of apology. Wonwoo kisses you back to tell you that it’s fine.

A large pillow hitting the side of your head snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to glare at Mingyu who is leaning against your doorframe. “Was that necessary?”

Your friend rolls his eyes at you and enters your room to pick the pillow up from the floor. “Yes, because you look stupid smiling alone.”

You snatch the pillow from his hands and smack him upside the head. “You’re annoying.”

“Thanks, you’re such a lovely friend. After everything I’ve done for you,” Mingyu pouts. You pay no attention to his annoying face so he turns to leave but stops when the doorbell rings. You freeze and look up at your friend.

“Oh yeah, I invited your boyfriend over.”

“Without telling me?!” You hastily stand up from your chair to put on a hoodie and fix your hair, cursing Mingyu in the process for acting like he also lives in your apartment, inviting people over whenever he wants to.

“I said I was going back home over the weekend and I thought you would be lonely in your apartment without me bothering you, so I invited Wonwoo to keep you entertained.” There’s a smirk on his face and you push him out of your room until you reach the main door of your place.

“You’re fucking annoying,” you pinch Mingyu’s side and he yelps as you open the door to kick him out. You don’t feel sorry when he bumps into Wonwoo in the process.

“You’re so ungrateful!” Mingyu fixes his shirt and pats Wonwoo on the back. “Take care of her hyung. I’ll see you both around!”

When your best friend finally disappears down the hall, you let Wonwoo into your place. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he echoes.

You smile up at him as you grab his hand. You’re convinced you’re still dreaming, but when Wonwoo brings your hand to his lips to place featherlight kisses on your knuckles, you wake up and then the heavy weight on your chest disappears. Reality catches on to you and tells you that everything will be alright, because Wonwoo’s here.

#my work #seventeen #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen imagines #wonwoo imagines #100+ NOTES WTFFFF THANK YOU?!??!?#100+

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nonstop-haikyuu · 4 years ago

Text

Can’t Do This to Me, Baby

Another fic from my other blog! Daichi has the best thighs in Haikyuu and they deserve all the hickeys. Of course, with eagle eyes like Noya and Tanaka, however, avoiding teasing is impossible. Revenge is needed and Daichi is more than willing to hand it out. Seriously, big shoutout to @haikyuufairy for enabling me on this one!

Word Count: 4478

Warnings: thigh fucking, rip the kitchen counter, hickeys galore, slight breeding kink, riding, Tanaka and Noya are menaces, Captain kink (don’t look at me like that), praise kink, fingering, vaginal sex, gagging with fingers, small mention of a possible threesome, itty bitty bit of D/s but not really??

As captain, Daichi held a certain amount of prestige with his team. But thanks to years of volleyball, he had thick thighs that were oh so wonderful and I couldn’t help but pay special attention to them when I had the chance.

“Baby, baby, please, you can’t leave hickeys, my team will see.” Daichi insisted, fingers tight in my hair. I glanced up at him as I sucked another bruise on the inside of his thigh before I whined, “But baby, you look so good with all these marks. Plus, it’s not like they’re actually going to say anything to you, you’re their captain. They respect you enough not to tease you about having sex with your girlfriend.”

He laughed and fell back into the pillows as I continued to kiss upwards on his thighs, leaving small marks, and he groaned, “Clearly you haven’t spent enough time with the second years. Ennoshita won’t say anything but fuck baby! Oh god, you’ve gotta stop, you’re killing me.” I pulled away from the newest bite I left then gave a small lick to it before I crawled into his lap, murmuring, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

His fingers tightened in my hair then he pulled me into a kiss, sliding his tongue into my mouth as I moaned. Daichi pulled away then he murmured, “You didn’t hurt me, I just didn’t want to come just from you giving me fucking love bites, baby. Now c’mon, give me a condom and I’ll fuck you like you want me to.”

That familiar gleam, the one that always seemed to have a place in his eyes during an intense match, had begun to set in and I squirmed with anticipation. Not only were his thighs good for leaving marks, but fuck, they were a hell of an asset during sex.

I nodded with eagerness and fumbled through the top drawer while Daichi pressed his fingers against my slit, a growl rumbling through his chest as he felt how wet I was then he sighed, “You're already so wet for me, baby. God I can’t wait to fuck you, you’re so good to me. I love you.”

I whimpered when he pulled his fingers away then watched with awe as he began to fuck his hand covered in my slick, groaning, “Goddamn, Princess, what I would give to fuck you raw. Fill up that pretty pussy so full you wouldn’t be able to shift without come trickling out.”

“Daichi, oh god, please!” I cried out, rocking against his thigh. He grabbed the condom from my fingers then kissed my jaw, cheeks and finally my lips before he murmured, “We can’t do that though, baby, you know that. But soon, when we’re older. I’ll give you that and so much more. “

I moaned at the promise then he gripped my hips before pulling me close enough to press the head of his cock to my hole, murmuring, “That’s a good girl, just sink on down for me.” I drew in a deep breath and did as he asked, sighing when I finally slid to the hilt. I pressed my forehead to his as I drew in a couple deep breath then Daichi asked, “What’s the matter, baby, you want me to fuck you? You don’t want to take a ride?”

It wasn’t until this moment that I was thankful it was a weekend. Daichi often pushed himself to the limits during the week and his body usually paid the price for the work he put in, which meant that he ached on most days. As much as I enjoyed riding my boyfriend, there was nothing quite like having him pin me to the bed and fuck me. I gave a small nod and a grin stretched across his face then he gripped the backs of my thighs to flip me onto my back. I laughed and kissed him.

Monday came like normal and I had planned to sit in on their practice since I didn’t have anything planned for after classes. I entered the gym and slid my shoes on, chirping, “Hello everyone!” The team turned and greeted me separately.

“Hey (Y/N)-chan!” Noya chirped as I gave a respectful bow to Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei. I waved to my kouhai then turned in search of Daichi, who was currently practicing his receives with Suga and Ennoshita. I waited until they circled together for a quick drink of water then waved to them with a bright smile before claiming a place against the wall, prepared to work on the last bit of homework for the day.

The practice was mostly uneventful until they were almost finished with their first set of a practice match. Daichi had dug out a low ball and his shorts rode up on his thighs higher than usual, leaving the marks I had left a couple nights before in plain view. The first to notice the hickeys was unsurprisingly, Suga. He grinned in my direction then nudged Asahi,who flushed with color at the sight and quickly turned away from his captain, who gave an inquiring look to his best friend.

Then two of the first years noticed the bruises. Yamaguchi quickly turned away from Daichi and I watched as his freckles were overtaken with the red of his blush while Tsukishima merely rolled his eyes at the sight. That’s when the second years managed to catch a peek of the purples, reds, and blues decorating their captain’s thighs.

“Holy shit, Daichi, I think your girl has fancies your thighs a bit much there.” Tanaka crowed, earning the attention of his fellow classmates. Noya lit up at the opportunity to torment his senpai then he laughed, “Oh my god, I haven’t seen that many bruises even on an overripe banana!”

It was at this exact moment when I realized what Daichi had meant by I hadn’t spent enough time with the second years. I could practically see the gears turning in Noya and Tanaka’s heads as they constructed joke after joke about their captain’s sex life before my boyfriend snapped, “Shut up and get back to work!” Thankfully, the two listened to him and the game resumed, with the three seniors, Ennoshita, Kazuhito, and Kinoshita taking both sets.

Daichi walked towards Ukai and Takeda then murmured something to the two, earning nods for whatever he asked, before he walked towards me, rumbling, “Grab your stuff, we’re leaving.” My eyes widened at the realization of what was about to happen then the second years, with the help of Suga yelling encouragement at Daichi, began to tease us as we walked out of the gym.

He offered his hand out to me then murmured, “I cleared it with Coach, I’m leaving early for the day. You and I need to have a bit of alone time.”

“Daichi, you’re not mad at me, are you?” I asked quietly, squeezing his hand. He glanced down at me then replied, “Yes, I am.. I told you no marks and yet you insisted on not listening to me and now I have the underclassmen poking fun at the fact that my girlfriend is insatiable and doesn’t know how to keep her teeth to herself. Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”

The calm before the storm. It was something that I had hated about Daichi. The man had a poker face like no one else I had even seen, besides Ennoshita. That kid was unbeatable when it came to hiding the nasty emotions he felt, except when he dealt with Tanaka and Noya, but those two were enough to make the strongest will bend.

I cuddled into his side and he sighed before pulling his jacket from around his waist, draping it over my shoulders. I smiled up at him then Daichi muttered, “Even when I’m mad at you, I still can’t let you freeze.” I let out a soft laugh and cuddled closer, satisfied that he wasn’t ignoring me, before we stopped at Sakanoshita Store for a couple of meat buns to eat while we finished walking to Daichi’s.

He pulled me into his apartment by the front of my shirt and kissed me,, his other hand claiming the back of my thigh as he rocked into me. I moaned quietly then he pulled away, murmuring, “I’m going to take a shower, you can do whatever you want for right now.” He turned away to start his shower and I snagged the front of his shirt, whining, “Daichi, there’s no point in taking a shower when you know that you’re going to fuck me.”

He glanced down at my fingers tangled in the hem then met my eyes as he cupped my jaw with his hand, asking, “Are you whining at me?” I paused at the coldness of his tone and felt the material of his shirt slip through my fingers then mumbled, “Yes, Captain. I’m sorry.” Daichi hummed at my apology and released my face as he stated, “You do have a point, baby. I’m going to put the rest of the meat buns away, alright?”

He began to move away and I decided to follow him, hands sliding around his waist to press my cheek against his back. He paused and I pressed myself against his back with a smile, murmuring, “I’m sorry, did you want me to stay put?” He drew in a deep breath and replied, “No baby, you know that you can go wherever you want. But you have to at least walk with me.” I curled against his back and followed his footsteps into the kitchen as he put the buns into the fridge then he turned in my arms, kissing me on the top of my head. Daichi tilted my head upwards and asked, “So, are you ready to reap the consequences of your actions?”

My tongue peeked out at the question then I chirped, “I’m sure I’m going to enjoy whatever you dish out as punishment.” He chuckled at my insistence then kissed at the underside of my jaw as he murmured, “You’re so eager and you don’t even know what I’m going to do to you for the hickeys you left, even after I asked you to stop. I might not even let you come today, baby.” My eyes widened at the threat and he turned me around to bend me over the counter, stating, “You look so pretty underneath me, baby. I’m glad you didn’t change out of your uniform yet, that way I can just flip up your skirt and look at that, fuck. Cute little panties, were you hoping that my team would see and it would rile me up, baby?”

I whined at the question and pressed my hips against his, muttering, “Daichi, c’mon.” He cupped my cheeks then turned my face to kiss me on the corner of my mouth before he insisted, “You can wait for me, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me?” A small smirk stretched across my face and I chirped, “What’s the fun in being good when you can be bad, Captain?”

Daichi groaned in my ear and pressed against me, growling, “You’re really going to push your luck right now? Fine, baby.” His fingers tightened around the waistband of my underwear then yanked downwards and he kissed at the backs of my thighs, purring, “Goddamn, I may have thick thighs but yours could save my life, baby.”

I laughed at the statement and glanced behind me when he came to a stand then teased, “You still have nicer thighs than I do.” Daichi growled at my insistence and rumbled, “I’m pretty sure you have nicer thighs.” I pressed backwards then replied, “I’m sure we can have this argument at a later time, you’re supposed to be punishing me for the beautiful hickeys I left.”

He hummed at the reminder and pressed a large hand to the middle of my back as he rucked my skirt up higher to expose my ass. A thick thigh slid behind my legs then I gasped. He was playing dirty tonight and oh god it was going to feel so fucking good. Daichi slid his free hand underneath the front of my skirt then cooed, “You’re already so wet for me, baby. I guess you really did want the team to see your handy work, huh?”

“Daichi, please don’t tease me.” I moaned, my forehead against the counter. His fingers circled my clit and he pressed his thigh tighter against me before he replied, “Baby, this is nothing and you know it. Now stand there and take it like a good girl.” He pulled his fingers away from the bud and I cried out at the loss then he pressed them against my lips before he ordered, “Open and suck for me.”

I did as he asked, whimpering against the slick fingers, then he groaned, “Fuck baby, you’re so eager to listen to me. Maybe I won’t be so mean and I’ll actually take it easy on you.” He backed away then I began to protest still with his fingers against my tongue, only for him to press them deeper in my mouth, warning, “I’d suggest you not be too much a brat for your captain, if you know what’s good for you.” I choked against the digits then he pulled them out, strings of spit dangling from my lips, before he turned my face and kissed me.

He rocked against me and we shared a moan then he backed away to pull his shorts down. I glanced behind me to try to gain a look, only for Daichi to push me harder against the counter, earning a cry. He laughed at the sound then he stated, “You’re so loud for me, baby. It’s adorable.” I groaned at the compliment then two fingers slid inside, forcing it into a loud sob. He growled at the sound and encouraged, “Keep it down, there’s people we live next to still, little girl.”

He honestly didn’t believe that keeping me quiet would be that easy, did he? I pushed backwards and moaned, his fingers sliding deeper, then cooed, “C’mon, Captain, you can do better than that, can’t you?” He knew I was baiting him, it was a game that we often played but I still felt the same thrill when he pulled his fingers out and I gasped at the sudden emptiness. Daichi leaned forward and kissed my cheek then ordered, “Legs together. I’m going to fuck your thighs, baby.”

“Fuck, oh my god.” I moaned, head falling forward at the demand then did as he asked. He moved his hand off my lower back then the head of his dick pressed between my inner thighs. He sighed in my ear after pushing his cock further between my legs and he snarled, “Shit baby, this is almost as tight as your pussy is. I should fuck your thighs more. God, I can feel you dripping for me.”

“Fuck please, Daichi, please fuck me!” I pleaded, wiggling my ass at him as he continued to fuck my thighs. Slick dribbled down my skin and he sighed, the head of his cock bumping my clit. I whimpered and dug my fingers into his hip with a sob, “God, Captain, please! I promise I’ll be your good girl, please, I need your cock, need you to fuck me senseless!”

“You’re missing something in that statement, baby. What are you supposed to say right now?” I growled at his ridiculous question then the answer slid in. Right. Of course. The reason why we’re here for a reason, the wonderful hickeys that remained on Daichi’s thighs that I don’t regret. He wanted an apology for something that we both enjoyed. What a difficult situation.

“If you’re looking for an apology, Captain, you’re not going to find it. I’ve got nothing to say sorry for.” I informed him. He growled at my stubbornness then snapped, “You're such a brat. I can’t believe you at times.” I laughed and tightened my thighs, drawing a groan out of him as I replied, “You’re so easy to rile up. No wonder Tanaka and Noya bug you so much. You always have the most amusing reactions.” His hand slid further up my back and tangled in my hair, pulling the strands to yank my head upwards. I screamed at the pain that raced down my spine and Daichi fucked my thighs faster, clearly deciding that I didn’t deserve mercy.

“You’re such a noisy little brat. Maybe I’ll bring Suga back with us so he can choke you on his cock while I fuck your tight little pussy. That way you can’t make any noise.” Daichi snarled, snapping his hips faster. I cried out at the suggestion and pressed my hands against the counter to help push back against my boyfriend, taunting over my shoulder, “If that’s supposed to make me behave, I hate to break it to you, but that’s not the way to do it. If anything, that only makes me want to be worse.”

“Of course you would like that. Your captain and vice captain fucking you like the whore you are.” he murmured in my ear, wrapping an arm around my waist to help prevent the onslaught of bruises that was sure to blossom by the next morning. Daichi kissed down my neck and bit my shoulder, pulling a cry from my throat as I leaned into him, stuttering out, “Daichi, please! I want you to fuck me!”

A laugh bubbles out of him, without the familiar warmth that I was so used to before he kissed my cheek, stating, “That’s cute that you still think that you’re in charge here. Come on baby, do you want me to take you into the bedroom and fuck you right?”

He was giving me an out from the punishment and as hot as that certain position against the counter was, it was uncomfortable with the pinch of marble pressing against my skin. I pushed against his chest and he pulled away with his fingers tangling with my own before he tugged me to the bedroom. Daichi nudged open the door with his foot and ushered me inside, murmuring, “Go on, get undressed for me.”

I nodded in understanding then pulled my sweater over my head and wiggled out of my skirt, thankful to be naked. Large hands tightened around my hips and Daichi leaned into me, kissing at my neck, murmuring, “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. I’m so lucky to love you.”

I smiled up at him and said, “And I’m so lucky to love you. I’m sorry for leaving hickeys. It’s just, I couldn’t resist and you didn’t make me stop. I’m sorry if I pissed you off.”

He laughed quietly and kissed me, tongue pressing into my mouth, then he slid away, reminding me, “Baby, you wouldn’t do anything that I don’t like and you know how I feel when you bite me. Sure, it’s a bit embarrassing having my kouhai see the marks you left, but fuck, baby. It’s hot when you get in that mood.”

“You act as if that mood is rare. If it were up to me and I knew you wouldn’t get picked on, I would be leaving hickeys all over your thighs every chance I got.” I informed him, pushing him on the bed. He smiled at me and replied, “Trust me, I’d let you do it too. Anything for you, baby.” I crawled into Daichi’s lap and pulled his shirt over his head then admired the way he looked underneath me. Dark eyes watched as I rocked against his thigh, a soft moan spilling from my lips then I whimpered, “Please… please, I need it, Captain, need you to fuck me.”

He pushed me onto my back and he wrapped a hand around the base of his dick then he purred, “You’re so pretty when you beg for me. It’s okay, baby, I’m gonna fuck you.” Daichi reached into the top drawer and grabbed a condom to roll on. I watched with intrigue as he did then tilted my hips upwards to allow him to sink just the tip inside.

I panted and he made me wait for the rest of his cock then Daichi praised, “You're so pretty, baby, so patient with me. I love you.” My nails clawed against his back as he sunk deeper inside me then I cried out, “Fucking hell, Captain! God, please, please, just fuck me, Daichi, I promise I’ll be good! I’ll do anything, please, I just need you to fuck me!”

His grin stretched wider and he kissed my cheek then he fucked up into me, fingers tightening around my hips. My head slammed back into the pillow and I sobbed at the pleasure rushing through my senses then Daichi cooed, “You’re so good, baby, so fucking good. God, I love you.” I clutched at his back and kissed at the crook of his neck as I murmured, “Love you too, so much. Please make me come!”

He laughed at my insistence and cupped my face then he kissed my cheeks and forehead, thighs tightening. I lifted my ass higher to change the angle, sighing with delight. Daichi groaned then pressed me back into the mattress, warning, “My pace, baby, not yours.” I whined at his order and tangled my legs around his waist, the headboard rocking against the wall. Had I not been half gone with pleasure, I would have cringed at the sound and the scuff marks that would likely remain as a reminder of what happened tonight. But now, there wasn’t a single thought that ran through my head that wasn’t related to Daichi.

“Yeah, that’s good, baby. C’mon, hold onto me tighter. This is going to be a bit rough.” Daichi snarled, fingers knotting through my hair as he tugged on the strands. I cried out when the pain mixed with the pleasure that overtook my mind and body and tilted my head backwards, offering up my throat as a treat. He grinned, a mean undertone settling across his features, and encouraged, “That’s it, baby, so easy for your captain.”

“Daichi, please- oh god!” I sobbed as his hips snapped faster and a growl burst from his chest. He sucked hickeys into the skin of my throat and teeth skimmed the bruises, ripping a keen from me as he bit harder. His fingers tightened around my hip then his thumb found my clit, pressing harshly against the sensitive spot before he rubbed tight circles. I cried out as my orgasm was dangled just inches from my face then he groaned, “That’s it, baby, come for your captain, you’re such a good girl for me. Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come.”

I whimpered at his instruction and my head tilted backwards as I screamed. I delighted in the pleasure that diluted my senses then Daichi growled in my ear when his own orgasm shuddered through his body. He backed away slowly, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, then pulled off the condom and tied the end before he murmured, “I’ll be right back, okay, baby? Just wait for me while I go get some things.”

I let a small noise of acknowledgement and he smiled softly before disappearing into the bathroom. He returned with a warm washcloth in hand then wiped gently at the inside of my thighs before cleaning the rest of my come away. Daichi brushed my hair out of my face and asked, “How’re you feeling, baby? Feel okay, need some water?” I nodded and he placed the cloth in the dirty laundry then entered the kitchen, clearly grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge.

When I opened my eyes again, Daichi had returned with water and an old shirt of his in hand, clearly prepared for my need to cover up. I glanced down and realized that he had already pulled on a pair of sweatpants before I accepted the items, pulling the shirt over my head. I sighed with relief when the cool water slid down my throat, easing the soreness that had settled in. He offered up a hair tie and I quickly accepted it, thankfully to get my hair out of my face before curling into Daichi’s side.

“So you’re really not mad about the hickeys, Dai?” I murmured, stroking his hip. He smiled down at me then answered, “Course not, baby. I already told you- I think it’s hot when you get all bitey and possessive.” I laughed quietly and he tugged our blankets over us, pressing his cheek against the top of my head as we settled in for the night.

Morning came early and I groaned at the gentle soreness in my body then Daichi kissed my shoulder, murmuring, “How are you, baby? Hurt?” I hummed at the question and stretched out with a soft moan before answering, “Little bit but it’s good, love. Feels so good.” He chuckled and slipped out of bed. He tugged me out with him then I fell against his back as we walked into the bathroom, prepared to get ready for the day.

We had entered the gym then Tanaka and Noya immediately greeted us, rushing out multiple questions back to back before I tugged my jacket off, revealing the multitude of bruises on my throat. The second years paused at the sight and exchanged a knowing grin before the teasing set in.

“Holy shit, girl, looks like our captain got his revenge for the hickeys on his thighs, huh?” Tanaka chirped, looping an arm around my neck as Noya jumped in front of us, laughing at my terrible attempt at hiding the multiple marks that Daichi left. I gave a small sigh and muttered, “I knew I should’ve skipped the rest of the week.” My boyfriend glared at the two then barked at his second years, “You two, three laps around the court for harassing our guest!”

Noya and Tanaka turned to try and make their cases against why they shouldn’t have to run laps for teasing me, only for his expression to harden, leaving no room for argument. The two took off and Daichi gave me a soft kiss on the cheek as he asked quietly, “How are you feeling?” I pressed a gentle hand to my neck then replied, “I regret that I didn’t invest in a scarf this winter.”

He laughed at my statement and chimed, “Alright baby, here’s my jacket, I’ve gotta go change. Love you!” And with that, he raced to catch up with Suga and Asahi, who clearly was prepared with taunts and statements of their own about the hickeys. This team was ridiculous, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

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