#i always try to pick just one shot from one scene so.

[swallowedabug]

MAYKO NGUYEN Hudson & Rex 5.14 (2023)

[depresssant]

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story

warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc

you want to die.

you always do.

staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.

"you? i should give my money to you?"

"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"

"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."

that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.

"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—

"stop right there!"

damn it.

you think too soon.

a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.

"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"

gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"

"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.

"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."

you do know. you wish you wouldn't.

"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."

"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."

"are you sure—"

"completely."

please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.

"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."

"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."

"of course."

you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.

that is the summary of your life.

taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.

the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.

that's exactly what happens.

your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.

leaving you in your own pile of misery.

it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.

gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.

the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.

tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.

even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.

"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"

your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."

"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."

"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."

an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.

"excuse me?"

you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.

zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"

"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.

"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.

the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...

well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"

jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."

that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."

you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.

tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."

"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.

"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."

"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.

your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"

"let's be friends!"

"no."

"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.

"no."

"too bad! you're my friend now."

"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."

his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.

tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"

"really now?"

"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"

... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.

"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."

this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."

what the hell are you doing?

the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?

nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.

"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."

there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.

"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."

"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"

"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"

you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤

ding!

your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.

mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.

a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.

telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.

after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."

"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.

honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?

you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.

"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.

you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."

"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"

your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."

you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?

"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."

and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.

ewwww

this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series

um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it

[starskq]

I STILL HATE YOU / J.W

Pairing ◊ bratty!fem!reader x brattamer!wooyoung (ft. '99 line)

Genre ◊ SMUT, angst, ennemies to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), reader is a brat, harddom!wooyoung, they hate each other, fingering, rough, degradation, petnames (good girl, sweetheart...), oral (fem receiving), lots of angst

Word count ◊ 4,6k

Summary ◊ : You and Wooyoung hated each other, but your friends thought it would be a good idea to lock wooyoung's room to "sort things out"

a/n: just a sucker for dom Wooyoung 😵‍💫 enjoy! (not proofread)

You were part of this tight-knit friend group with Wooyoung, Yunho, San, Mingi, and Yeosang. Usually, you would have considered yourself lucky to be surrounded by such a cool bunch of people, but there was one glaring exception: Wooyoung. From the moment you met, you and Wooyoung clashed like fire and ice. You were both cocky, always trying to outdo each other with snarky comments and sarcastic remarks.

It wasn’t even like you had any reason to hate each other; it just happened. Maybe it was how Wooyoung always seemed so smug, with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. Or maybe it was how he would always find some way to one-up you, no matter what. Either way, the tension between you two was almost palpable, and it was clear to everyone around.

The others in the group seemed to take it in stride. Yunho and San would roll their eyes and laugh it off, while Mingi would try to play peacemaker, often unsuccessfully. Yeosang, on the other hand, seemed to find your constant bickering somewhat amusing, though he rarely got involved. Despite the tension, the group managed to stick together, probably because your mutual animosity oddly balanced the dynamic.

One Friday night, you were all hanging out at their place, lounging on his beat-up couch, debating over what movie to watch. Wooyoung, as usual, had a different opinion from you. He wanted to watch some action flick while you were in the mood for a horror movie. The debate quickly turned into a full-blown argument, with you and Wooyoung standing face-to-face, jabbing at each other with pointed insults, as usual.

“Why don’t you just admit your taste in movies sucks?” Wooyoung sneered, crossing his arms.

“Oh please, like you even understand what makes a good movie,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

Yunho sighed loudly, standing between you two. “Alright, can we just decide already? It’s just a movie.”

San laughed, shaking his head. “You two are hopeless. Can’t even pick a movie without turning it into World War Three.”

The argument over which movie to watch was reaching a boiling point, and everyone in the room could sense it. You and Wooyoung were standing toe-to-toe, practically shouting over each other.

“I’m telling you, action movies are way more entertaining,” Wooyoung argued, his voice filled with exasperation.

“And I’m telling you, horror movies have way better plots,” you shot back, not willing to back down.

Yunho exchanged a knowing glance with San and Mingi. They’d had enough of the constant bickering and had been joking for weeks about taking drastic measures to put an end to it.

“Alright, that’s it,” Yunho said suddenly, standing up. “I can’t take this anymore. We need a break from your constant fighting.”

Before you could react, Yunho grabbed you by the arm while San and Mingi grabbed Wooyoung. You struggled, demanding to be let go, but they were determined.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” you yelled, trying to shake off Yunho’s grip.

“Let go of me! I’m not done here!” Wooyoung protested, struggling against San and Mingi.

Yeosang, who had been quietly watching the whole scene unfold, opened Wooyoung’s bedroom door. “In you go,” he said calmly, stepping aside.

Yunho and San practically shoved you both into the room and quickly shut the door behind you. You heard the click of the lock, and the realization set in.

“Are you guys serious?” you shouted, pounding on the door. “This is so immature!”

“Yeah, open the door! We don’t need this!” Wooyoung added, equally furious.

From the other side of the door, Yunho’s voice came through, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You two need to sort this out. We’re not letting you out until you do.”

“You can’t be serious,” you groaned, leaning against the door in frustration.

“Oh, we’re very serious,” San replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re both our friends, and we’re tired of the constant fighting. So figure it out.”

Inside the room, you turned to face Wooyoung, who was glaring at you with just as much annoyance as you felt. You crossed your arms, refusing to be the first to speak.

“This is ridiculous,” Wooyoung muttered, pacing back and forth. “Like locking us in here is going to make us get along.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a jerk all the time, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” you retorted, not missing a beat.

Wooyoung stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Me? A jerk? You’re the one who’s always acting like you’re better than everyone else!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I only act like that because you always have to be the center of attention!”

Outside, you could hear your friends laughing and chatting, clearly unconcerned about the drama unfolding inside the room.

“Can’t believe they did this,” you muttered under your breath.

“Same,” he replied, sitting down on his bed with a huff. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? How is this my fault?” you demanded, sitting down on the floor opposite him.

“You’re the one who always has to argue with me,” he said, gripping his hair in frustration. “You just can’t let anything go.”

“Because you’re always wrong!” you shot back, the argument feeling strangely familiar, yet different with no audience to play to.

You exchanged a heated glance with Wooyoung, who looked ready to explode. “This is all your fault,” he said, his voice low and accusing.

“My fault? You’ve got to be kidding me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, please,” Wooyoung sneered, getting up from the bed and stepping closer. “You’re the one who’s always picking fights.”

“Because you’re always so damn infuriating!” you retorted, matching his step forward until you were face to face.

The tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, it felt like something would snap. Instead, you both turned away with a huff, deciding that silence might be the best strategy. Maybe if you stopped engaging, your friends would see how pointless this was and let you out.

The silence stretched on, heavy and uncomfortable. You sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, while Wooyoung sat on the edge of it, staring at the wall. The minutes ticked by slowly, each second filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You could feel his presence, every movement and breath, making it impossible to fully relax.

After what felt like an eternity, the silence became too much to bear. You shifted, the slight noise breaking the uneasy peace. Wooyoung glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you snapped, unable to hold back.

“Nothing,” he muttered, looking away again.

The frustration boiled over. “You always do this,” you said, your voice rising. “Acting like you’re so much better than everyone else.”

Wooyoung’s head whipped around, his eyes flashing with anger. “Better than everyone else? You’re the one who’s always acting like you have something to prove!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly try to undermine me!” you shouted, standing up.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, standing up to face you. “You think you’re the only one who’s frustrated? You make everything so damn difficult!”

“Me? You’re the one who—”

The argument escalated quickly, voices rising, insults flying. The room seemed to shrink around you as the anger and frustration spilled over. You were both shouting now, words tumbling out without thought.

“You’re so arrogant!” you yelled, stepping closer to him.

“And you’re so damn stubborn!” Wooyoung shot back, closing the distance between you even more.

The space between you was electric, charged with anger and something else you couldn’t quite identify. The fight became more heated, the words more cutting.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “But you’re just a coward, hiding behind that smug attitude!”

Wooyoung’s eyes blazed with fury. “You don’t know anything about me!”

“Maybe because you never let anyone in!” you screamed, pushing him back. He stumbled slightly, then came back, his face inches from yours.

“Maybe because you never tried to understand!” he shouted, his breath hot on your face.

You felt a surge of anger and recklessness take over. “Why would I want to understand someone as pathetic as you?” you shot back, your words sharp and cutting.

Wooyoung’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Shut up,” he said, his voice low and filled with warning.

You met his gaze with a challenging look, the anger and adrenaline making you bold. “Make me,” you replied, your voice steady despite the wild beating of your heart.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Then, before you could react, Wooyoung grabbed your shoulders and pulled you toward him, crashing his lips against yours in a rough, almost desperate kiss. The suddenness of it stole your breath, and for a split second, you were too stunned to respond.

But then you felt a surge of heat, a mix of anger and something much deeper. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands moving to tangle in his hair as you tried to pull him even closer. It was a battle, not a kiss—each of you trying to dominate, to claim the upper hand.

Wooyoung’s hands tightened on your shoulders, his grip almost bruising as he pushed you back against the wall. You gasped, but it only made the kiss more intense. Your hands slipped from his hair to his back, clutching at his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongues and raw need. You could feel the anger in it, the frustration and the years of unspoken tension. But there was something else, too—a desperate desire, a need to finally break through the barriers you’d both put up.

You fought back, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him grunt. He responded by pressing you harder against the wall, his grip on your shoulders almost bruising. His lips moved against yours with a fierce intensity, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, demanding submission.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunted, your voice breathless but defiant.

Wooyoung growled, one hand moving to grip your jaw, tilting your head back forcefully. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he muttered against your lips before biting down harshly on your lower lip, drawing a gasp from you, almost drawing blood.

You retaliated by digging your nails into his back through his shirt, trying to assert some control. But Wooyoung was relentless. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, his body pressing against yours, leaving you no room to move.

“Pathetic,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re always so desperate to prove yourself.”

“Better than being a smug asshole,” you shot back, twisting in his grip but finding no escape.

Wooyoung’s laugh was dark and mocking. “You like this, don’t you? Being put in your place.” His free hand trailed down your side, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.

“Shut up,” you spat, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Make me,” he countered, echoing your earlier challenge. His lips found yours again, even rougher this time, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, dominating every movement.

You bit down on his tongue, earning a growl from him as he pulled back slightly, only to return with even more force. His kiss was punishing, each movement designed to remind you who was in control. You couldn’t help but respond, your body betraying you as you arched against him.

“You’re such a brat,” he hissed, his lips moving down to your neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks. “Always trying to fight me, but you’re just as desperate for this as I am.”

‘’Fuck you,” you repeated, though the words lacked conviction as a moan escaped your lips.

“Admit it,” he demanded, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers digging into your skin. “Admit that you want this.”

“Never,” you gasped, tugging against his hold on your wrists.

He yanked your hands down, pinning them behind your back with one hand while his other hand slipped under your shirt, trailing down your stomach with rough, possessive movements.

“Let go of me,” you demanded, but your voice wavered, betraying your conflicting emotions.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Not until you learn to keep that mouth of yours shut.” His fingers found the waistband of your pants, slipping inside with a determined, almost punishing force.

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your core, the sensation both shocking and electrifying. “You’re such an ass,” you hissed, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Such a dirty little mouth,” he taunted, his fingers moving with a rough precision that made it impossible to think clearly. He found your clit quickly, starting to circle it roughly. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.’’

Before you could respond, his fingers pushed inside you, the intrusion rough and unyielding. You bit back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but it was impossible to ignore the intensity of his touch.

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot and taunting. “You act all tough, but deep down, you’re just a needy little slut.”

“Shut up,” you managed to gasp, your body betraying you as you arched against his hand.

His fingers moved faster, rougher, each movement designed to break down your resistance. “Fuck. You’re so wet for me. Just admit it.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give in. “I hate you,” you spat, though the words lacked conviction.

“Oh, I know you do,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But your body says otherwise.” He added another finger, stretching you, making you gasp. “Look at you, so desperate and needy. It’s pathetic.”

You wanted to retort, to throw another insult his way, but the sensation was overwhelming. His fingers moved with a brutal efficiency, hitting just the right spots to make you squirm. The anger and hatred mixed with the undeniable physical attraction, creating a storm of conflicting emotions.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. “Admit that you want this.”

“Never,” you gasped, though the word came out more like a moan.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, and he thrust his fingers harder, making you cry out despite yourself. “Say it,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I… I want it,” you finally admitted, the words torn from you unwillingly.

“Good girl,” he murmured, a mocking smile on his lips. “Was that so hard?” He continued his rough ministrations, his fingers moving in a relentless rhythm that left you trembling.

The words were degrading, but they pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed around his fingers, pleasure crashing through you in waves. You cried out, unable to hold back, your hands gripping his arms for support.

Wooyoung watched you with a satisfied smirk, his fingers continuing to move inside you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart,’’ he murmured, his voice softening just a fraction.

You tried to catch your breath to regain some semblance of control, but Wooyoung was already kneeling in front of you, his hands roughly pushing your pants and underwear down to your ankles.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you stammered, though your body betrayed you with a shiver of anticipation.

“You think I’m done with you?” he growled, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks. “I’m going to show you what happens when you push me too far.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his tongue flicking against your clit with a precision that made your knees buckle. You gasped, one hand flying to his hair, the other bracing against the wall for support.

“Wooyoung, stop—” you started, but your words dissolved into a moan as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue working you over with relentless, rough strokes.

“You’re going to scream for me,” he muttered against you, his voice vibrating through your core. “Let your friends hear how much you need this.”

“Fuck—no,” you managed to gasp, though your voice wavered.

Wooyoung laughed, the sound dark and cruel. “We’ll see about that.” He intensified his movements, his tongue moving in ruthless circles while his fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, but it was no use. The combination of his rough touch and skilled tongue was too much. Your hips bucked against his mouth, and a cry slipped out before you could stop it.

“Louder,” he demanded, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “I want them to hear how much you love this.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, but the defiance was slipping away with every flick of his tongue.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe later,” he said, diving back in with renewed intensity. His tongue moved faster, harder, and you could feel the pressure building again, even more overwhelming than before.

Your resolve crumbled, and you let out a loud moan, unable to hold back. Wooyoung smirked against you, his satisfaction evident as he continued to push you closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” he murmured between strokes. “Scream for me like the needy little slut you are.”

You tried to resist, to stay bratty and defiant, but it was impossible. The pleasure was too intense, his dominance too overwhelming. With a final, desperate cry, you came, your body trembling as the orgasm crashed over you.

He didn’t let up, his tongue working you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a shaking, gasping mess. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied smirk on his face.

He stood up from his knees, his eyes dark with a mix of triumph and raw lust. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on you again, his hands rough as they grabbed your wrists and pulled you toward the desk beside you.

“You think we’re done?” he growled, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “Not even close.”

You tried to muster some defiance, but the intensity of the situation left you breathless. “You’re such an asshole,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky.

“And you’re about to learn just how much of an asshole I can be,” he replied, pushing you forward so that your upper body was bent over the desk. His hands were on your hips.

Wooyoung didn’t waste any time. You heard the rustle of his clothes as he freed himself, and then you felt the blunt pressure of his cock against your entrance. He didn’t bother with gentleness; he thrust into you in one brutal motion, making you cry out.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his grip on your hips bruising as he started to move, setting a punishing pace. “Bet you love being fucked like this, don’t you?”

You tried to hold onto some semblance of control, to maintain your defiance. “Go to hell,” you spat, though the words were weak, almost drowned out by the sounds of his relentless thrusts.

Wooyoung laughed, a dark, mocking sound. “Already there, sweetheart,” he replied, his hips snapping against yours with a brutal rhythm. “And you’re fucking coming with me.”

Each thrust was rough and demanding, pushing you closer to the edge with a ruthless efficiency. You could feel the desk digging into your skin, but the pleasure was overwhelming, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“Such a dirty little slut,” he murmured, leaning over you so that his breath was hot against your ear. “Can’t even form a proper sentence, can you?”

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a broken moan. Wooyoung’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing even more forceful, and you felt the pressure building again, a coil tightening inside you. Wooyoung felt your tight walls pulsing around his cock. 

“You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you?” he taunted, his voice low and rough. “Say it.”

“I—” you gasped, trying to fight the pleasure, but it was useless. “I’m going to—”

“That’s right,” he cut you off, his tone filled with dark satisfaction. “Come for me, you filthy brat.”

The words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a loud cry, your body trembling as the orgasm ripped through you. Wooyoung didn’t let up, his thrusts relentless as he chased his own release.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice filled with contempt and desire. “So desperate and needy. Pathetic.”

He pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could process the loss, he was moving you again, his hands rough as he pushed you toward the bed. You stumbled, falling onto the mattress, and he was on you in an instant, flipping you onto your back.

“Think you can handle more?” he asked, his eyes dark and challenging.

You nodded, too breathless to speak, your body already craving the next wave of pleasure.

“Good,” he said, positioning himself between your legs. 

He entered you again, the angle different but no less brutal. Your hands clutched at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he pounded into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge once more. He took your thigh and pressed it against your chest, thrusting deeper. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his grip on your thigh hard enough to leave marks. “Such a perfect little slut for me.”

The pleasure was overwhelming, turning your mind into a hazy blur. You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, as he fucked you with a relentless intensity, pouring all the rage from earlier into it. 

“Can’t even talk, can you?” he mocked, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “Too dumb from getting fucked by my cock.”

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a series of incoherent moans. Wooyoung’s thrusts grew even more forceful, and you felt the pressure building again, another orgasm threatening to crash over you.

“You’re going to come again,” he said, his tone commanding. “And you’re going to scream my name when you do.”

You shook your head, trying to hold onto some shred of defiance, but it was useless. The pleasure was too much, too overwhelming. With a final, brutal thrust, you came, your body arching off the bed as the orgasm tore through you, as you screamed his name. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. He continued to move, his pace never faltering, pushing you through the aftershocks and into another wave of pleasure.

By the time he finally came, his release hot and overwhelming inside you, you were a trembling, incoherent mess. He pulled out slowly, leaving you breathless and spent on the bed.

“See?” he said, his voice filled with mocking satisfaction. “All you needed was to be put in your place.”

You glared at him weakly, the fire of your anger not completely extinguished despite the overwhelming pleasure. “I still hate you,” you managed to say, though your voice was weak, more breathless.

“And I still hate you too,” he replied, his expression hard. “But at least now you know what happens when you push me too far.”

The room was filled with the tension of your unresolved hatred, the physical release doing nothing to ease the animosity between you. As you lay there, trying to catch your breath and regain some sense of composure, one thing was clear: the war between you and Wooyoung was far from over, but for now, you had been thoroughly defeated.

————————

Outside Wooyoung’s room, Yunho, San, Mingi, and Yeosang were still gathered, exchanging knowing glances and quiet laughter as they waited for the inevitable explosion of another argument. However, when the first loud moan echoed through the door, their expressions changed from amusement to shock.

“Did you just hear that?” San asked, eyes wide, looking at the others for confirmation.

“Yeah, I definitely heard something,” Yunho replied, raising an eyebrow. “That didn’t sound like an argument.”

Mingi covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. “I think they’re… uh… working things out in a different way.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened as another, louder moan filtered through the door, followed by a string of incoherent words. “Oh my god, they’re really going at it,” he said, looking both amused and slightly horrified.

Yunho shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, this is unexpected.”

San smirked, nudging Yunho. “Guess our plan worked a little too well.”

Mingi couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “Should we just… leave them to it?”

Yeosang nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I don’t think they need an audience for this.”

Yunho stood up, clapping his hands together. “Alright, everyone. Let’s give them some privacy. I think they’ve got enough to handle without us hanging around.”

San stretched, yawning dramatically. “Yeah, I could use a break from all the drama anyway.”

As they gathered their things, another particularly loud moan resonated through the door, making them all wince and then burst into laughter.

“Okay, that’s our cue to leave,” Mingi said, heading towards the front door.

“Maybe we should go get some ice cream or something,” Yeosang suggested. “Give them plenty of time to… sort things out.”

Yunho nodded, opening the door. “Good idea. I think we all need a break from this craziness.”

As they left the house, the moans and muffled sounds of pleasure faded into the background, replaced by the summer evening's quiet hum.

“You know, I always thought they’d kill each other before anything like this happened,” San said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Guess there’s a fine line between love and hate,” Yunho chuckled.

“Or in their case, a very loud, very thin line,” Mingi added, laughing.

As they headed down the street, leaving Wooyoung and you to your privacy, the group couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It seemed that locking you two up together had definitely brought some unexpected results.

[knoxic]

Teasing and Loving

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: smut, Eris being a simp, smut, emotional talk, smut

wc: 2,8k

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, trying for a baby (hinted at), oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, no beta

a/n: technically it was part of the How to be a High Lady series but it works better as a one shot imo

"Love?" Eris called out to her, pushing her office door far enough to fit his head in, at her nod he let himself in, closing the door behind him. "A letter arrived from Winter." He gently set the letter on her table, away from the other papers scattered around the place.

"Oh, what did they want?" She looked up from the book she was studying, catching the amused grin he tried to hide.

"I don't know, it's for you." He slid the letter closer to her as if to make a point.

"Ah, I'm still getting used to receiving letters like this..." She felt slightly embarrassed but brushed it off, she closed the book carefully and placed it aside before picking up the letter. Eris had made his way around her table and was leaning against it by her side, watching her every move.

"Hello, fellow High Lady! I was hoping we could spend some girl's time together, perhaps while our males discuss some court business, let them handle all the work for a while, now that we are allies, they ought to be friends too. So, what do you say? We could meet here in Winter and I could show you the wonders we have, or, you could show me what Autumn has been hiding all these years, Kal and I have always wanted to visit Autumn, the few hours we get to spend there for the meetings do not do it justice, that I'm sure of.

Eagerly waiting for your response,

Your fellow High Lady, Viviane."

"Viviane is asking if I want to spend some 'girl's time' with her," she giggled, "And I think Kallias finally crowned her High Lady." She showed Eris the letter, pointing to the first and last phrases.

"About time," Eris uttered, "Was starting to think he didn't have it in him."

"Eris." She gave him a pointed look. Sometimes his old self would come up, a natural response, they were both working on it.

"Habit, sorry." He smiled at her, faking innocence but quickly erupted into laughter, making her join him. It was so weird for him not having to insult someone at any opportunity encountered, that when he did, out of nowhere, it was funny.

"You're so stupid." She said, stomach cramping from how hard she was laughing.

"Darling, you marry this stupid, deal with it." Eris sighed, running a hand through his perfect hair trying to compose himself. "So, will you?"

"Yes, it's been way too long since I've had a girl's time." She started searching for some paper so she could write back to Viviane.

"Not to sound insecure or anything but... what exactly do you females do on your 'girl's time'?"

"Just girly things, males and our sex life, you know," she responded nonchalantly, "Last time I had one, one of my friends had even reenacted some scenes..." Eris' face at that moment was something she'd paid to see again. His eyes looked like they'd pop out of his head, his cheeks flushed redder than she'd ever seen before, his mouth was hanging open and he looked like a fish when he trying to talk.

"Relax, Eris! I'm just joking." She laughed, her belly protesting. She saw through watery eyes the moment Eris regained his composure, his smirk gave her a hint that they had a long night ahead.

Two big hands pulled her body up, making her squeal and laugh even harder. Eris picked her up and turned them both so he was now sitting on her chair, his lips kissed her neck while his hands found the ticklish spots around her body.

"You think you can fuck with me and not be punished for it, little witch?" His voice was rough with lust, her laughter died down and turned into soft moans.

"Careful, I might reenact what you'll do next with Viviane..." A hand smacked her cheek, the warm feeling of the scalding fire that ran through his veins made her shiver with goosebumps, the whisper of his slender fingers running up her spine only making her tremble harder. The effect Eris had on her was insane.

"Don't you dare. Not the time to play, love." He bit her shoulder. She nodded, knowing Eris wouldn't actually be mad at her for misbehaving, but he would be stressed, and while he'd never act like his father, an stressed Eris was more sad than anything, and she hated that. He was done being used and beaten, the stress he endured all these centuries was enough to mess with his head so hard that now he could barely bear feeling stressed.

She nodded against his neck, kissing and nuzzling his shoulder. In response, he tugged her closer to him, his fingers finally working on the buttons of her dress, pulling apart and setting her down on her desk to take their clothes off.

When Eris was done unbuttoning his shirt, her hands found his muscular chest, pushing him back, signaling for him to sit. She quickly got down on her knees, Eris purposely slipped the fabric of her dress where her knees would meet the floor, making sure they wouldn't hurt so much. Her fingers worked on the strings of his trousers, when they slipped inside the waistband, Eris lifted his hips for her to slip them out, his briefs following suit, during their undressing, Eris had also taken his boots off.

Her hands danced around his torso and tights, lightly scratching his skin, her fingers followed his happy trail before touching his cock, squeezing him the way he liked while running her hand up and down. His warm fingers caressed her arms, encouraging her to keep the pace.

After he was completely hard, she started licking his tip, running her tongue against the underside, slowly going down and licking the whole expanse of his member. His quiet sights and humming making her skin tingle, leaning away from him she admired her artwork, the way his skin was redder in certain spots, his breath was ragged even with so little action, his eyelids almost fully closed and his hair the same messy hair she saw at home. His vulnerability came with a messy version of Eris that would make anyone question if it was really him, his usually perfect styled hair seemed to have never seen a hairbrush, his enviable posture sometimes slumpy.

"Don't stop..." He whined, his head lolled from one side to another.

Taking pity on him, she brought her mouth back down, taking as much of him as she could, bobbing her head slowly, taking him deeper everytime she went down until her nose was pressed against him.

"Gods... What did I do to deserve you?" Eris mumbled, when she looked up, his eyes were fully closed and his mouth had formed a pleased smile.

Eris wasn't really into blowjobs, at least not like the other males she knew, he'd never refuse it of course, but he wasn't one to ask for it. She never asked and Eris never said anything, but she had an inkling that it might have something to do with his father, the way he viewed and treated females, Eris was bound to have heard and, perhaps, seen some disgusting things.

Her mate's hand gently cradled her head, not moving her, just holding. His hips twitched every time her mouth fully enveloped him, she noticed how much effort he was putting into not thrusting up.

"You can fuck my mouth if you want." Her voice was raspy and breathless when she spoke, immediately going back to sucking on him, paying special attention to his tip. His eyebrows furrowed like he was in pain, mouth opened in a silent moan, the muscular thighs under her finger tensed. Suddenly Eris was pushing her head away and yanking her up into his lap.

"For someone who claims to hate teasing, you're doing it way too well, sweetheart." His hands slipped through her hair until he had a good hold of the back of her head, he pushed her closer to his mouth, just enough that she could touch him if she stuck her tongue out, when she tried to lean in for a kiss, he pulled at her hair. He laughed at her pout and gave a mocking peck to her bottom lip, a mere brush that could never be called a kiss.

"You're mean, you know that?" She pushed at his chest, not exactly trying to push him away, all her strength went to keeping her smile at bay.

"But my love... someone needs to take that seriousness off your pretty face."

"You just say that because you can't be serious around me, I smell envy..." She sniffled jokingly, the only scent that filled her nose was arousal, the musk smell of Eris and the slick coating her thighs.

Eris giggled, throwing his head back, one of his hands left her waist to rest at his abdomen, his body convulsing with soft laughter. None of the males she met before laughed like that, in fact, she wasn't sure if they ever truly laughed. Eris, despite his upbringing, knew how to have a good laugh.

"Oh Gods... I couldn't have asked for a better mate." His  head was still thrown back, if the sight of his body slumped in her chair didn't say anything, his relaxed smile sure did. "Kiss me." The hand that remained on her waist ran up to her cheek, "Kiss me." He repeated, bringing her head closer. "Drown me with the taste of you." Their tongues danced. "Make me forget how to breathe without your hands on me." Her hips lifted enough to take him inside her warm cunt, the feeling making them both groan. "My body is yours, my soul is yours, my heart is yours, take my mind too. My every thought is yours, everything I think is formulated with your face in my mind, everything I plan is thinking of you and us, our future, our family..."

Their heartbeats synchronized, their mouths dancing, the rhythm of her hips rocking their bodies, their chests collided with rapid breaths, hands here and there squeezing and feeling. "Eris–"

"Yes! Yes, yes, please!" His hands went back to her hips, helping her bounce on top of him, her head dropped to his shoulder, nodding.

Eris gasped, as pleasure threatened to push him off the edge, he braced an arm on her waist and lifted himself off her chair, his unoccupied hand pushed the paper off the desk, he'll help reorganize them later. Feeling the kisses she planted on his neck, combined with her sigh of pleasure when he slipped her down his cock, almost made his knees buckle.

He set her down onto the desk, curving an arm under her head, giving her time to adjust to the new position before he started to thrust, his forehead resting on hers, their breaths fanning each others faces.

Her hands ran the whole expanse of Eris' back, encouraging him to thrust into her, each snap of his hip against hers threatening to push her off the desk, the arm he slung under her head being the only thing keeping her from doing so. The intensity of having sex with Eris never failed to amaze her, she wasn't sure if it was because he was her mate, or if it was really just in his nature to be intense, probably both. Due his accidental edging, Eris already felt close to cuming, the fact that she kept squeezing him didn't help, he was sure she was doing it on purpose, brat, he really taught her well. He couldn't stop his hips from stuttering so he just stopped, resting his cock fully inside her, his head dropping to her chest to suck on her perky nipples, trying to pretend it was all in purpose, unfortunately for him, it didn't foul her. Her soft giggles filled his ears, both her hands moving to his head, running her fingers through his wild red hair.

"Have I already told you I love your messy hair?"

Eris pulled back from her breast to look at her, a expressionof shock on his face before a breath burst out of him, "My hair is not messy, love." He answered while giggling, thinking she was joking. She only rolled her eyes in response, moving her hips against his, Eris' mouth feel open, his eyes slammed shut.

"Close already?" She smiled up at him, knowing too well the effect she had on him. Her legs moved so she had a firm grip of him, now being able to move her hips better, squeezing his cock whenever he was pushed deep inside her.

"Keep doing that–" His words were cut off by a groan, "And I'll cum before you." Eris' whole body trembled.

"It's okay." She pulled his head closer to hers, nuzzling his nose before initiating a kiss. She doubled her efforts to make him cum, moving her hips harder and faster, licking into his mouth like an starved female.

Eris groaned, his body tensed, his knees buckled, his arms gave up and he fell fully against her, she could feel his thighs shaking and a hot liquid filling her cunt. She felt every spurt of cum, his cock throbbing, the way that even when he was finished he was still hard. As soon as he regained control of his legs, he trusted slowly into her, pushing his cum as deep as he could.

When he came down from his high, Eris pulled back from her mouth, not once had she stopped kissing him, his eyes roamed through her beautiful body, his hands squeezing her breasts and stomach, sliding down until his thumb met her clit, rubbing lazy circles on her, just enough to feel good.

Eris slid his cock off of her slowly, catching the small spurt of cum that came out and pushing it back inside her. After meeting her gaze one last time, he fell to his knees, his mouth placing gentle kisses and nibbles on her plump thighs.

His nose brushed her clit, their scents mingled together filled his nose, his tongue licked her slit like the starved male he was, slurping his own release mixed with her wetness. Her moans drew him insane, she was a quiet female so to know she made those beautiful noises because of him, was maddening. Her hands brushed his hair out of his face, careful fingers touching his pointed ear, making it twitch involuntarily. She felt more than heard her mate's groan, the vibration directly on her clit pushed her off the edge she didn't even know she was treading. Eris didn't stop, the pleasure building up inside her as if she never reached her release at all. His slender fingers pushing through her throbbing slit, curling into a spot inside her that made her see stars, after years of experience, Eris could definitely bring her orgasm after orgasm if he wanted to, and that's what he did. Pushing his fingers as deep as they'd go and pulling them out before she could slip off again, he played with her until he was sure she was too deep in pleasure to hold it back.

When he was done, she could barely feel her own body, still tingling with pleasure and her mind too fogged up. She felt warmth and his scent enveloped her, her cheek pressed into something hard, his heartbeat helped bring her back to herself. Eris' hand brushed her locks behind her ear, caressing her hair mindlessly, he planted kisses where he could reach, head, forehead, eyes, nose, until she stared back at him, eyes still shining as she smiled.

"That was good." She said, voice barely a whisper. Eris hummed in response, smiling back.

He helped her into his shirt, knowing she was too sensitive to wear her dress again. After that they went back to their chambers, still holding one another as they went. All the servants had gone to bed by now, so no one saw their half dressed High Lord and Lady walking through the corridors.

"Are you too tired for a bath?" Eris asked agaisnt her neck, never one to stay away from his mate. "Hungry? I can go make us something." He brushed her jawline with his nose, arms tightly holding her against him.

"Not too tired, and kind of hungry but I'd rather have you here with me." She answered with her eyes closed, bathing in the affection he poured on her.

"I'll draw us a bath, and then we'll go eat something." It was natural for them, so many times had Eris gone to visit her in the middle of the night with an empty stomach, right after finishing all of his work for the day. It only got worse when he became High Lord, so many things to be fixed that the only moment they got to themselves was at night, when Prythian was asleep.

Taglist: @callsigns-haze , @lilah-asteria , @mybestfriendmademe , @coldmermaidhologram , @rcarbo1 , @andreperez11 , @st4r-girl-official , @tenshis-cake , @pirana10 , @esposadomd lmk if you want to be added/removed

A/n²: I accidentally wrote "you can duck my mouth if you want"... and when I read it midway through the smut it was... cringe, I stopped writing. had to go feed the ducks

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene V: The Temporary Bliss)

Your fleeting moment of happiness is quickly overshadowed as old wounds from the past resurface.

Part warning: (18+) fingering, protected sex (because helping him roll down a condom is hot), and, unfortunately, angst Words: 4.8k A/n: so this is the last part of Act III: The Deception, you might want to prepare yourself as we get closer to the truth

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You were a coward. A fool. A mess. You didn’t know what to label yourself anymore, or if there were even words to describe the way you felt. But you did know one thing—you didn't have the strength to confront Spencer, you couldn't even see his face without feeling sick. So you did what you did best.

You avoided him. Plain and simple.

It was actually easier than you had expected. After that dreadful weekend, there seemed to be enough cases to distract you. You traveled across the state, one week in a new place, and another in a different city. By the end of the month, you hardly thought about him at all. Your friends seemed to be unaware of the underlying tension between you, and even if they did notice, they surprisingly kept their thoughts to themselves—everyone except Derek who teasingly pointed out that you seemed more focused on your work than usual.

You had shrugged off his comment with a forced laugh, brushing it off as if it was just a harmless observation. You told yourself that you were fine, that you had everything under control. But despite your efforts to stay distracted, the reality was different. The moment the plane landed back in Quantico, you knew you would have to face him again, especially when Emily suggested to hit the bar.

Her reason was to blow off steam after a gruesome few weeks, which was followed by a chorus of agreements from the team. Now you were left with no more excuses. Your eyes drifted toward him, his gaze slowly met yours, and that was how you found yourself in the same dingy, low-lit bar the team always gravitated to an hour later.

The familiar murmur of conversation and clinking of glasses greeted you as you entered the place. While the others settled to their usual spot in the corner, you quickly made a bee-line towards the bar. The bartender, a tall man with a slightly overgrown beard and sharp blue eyes, looked up as you approached.

He was cute, in a rugged, rough-around-the-edges kind of way. You would normally find yourself attracted to these types of men—confident, approachable, and with a certain easygoing charm. But apparently, your heart had other ideas, preferring a certain someone with a genius-level IQ with warm brown eyes.

“Hey, you're back," he greeted you, nodding his head. "Haven’t seen you in a while."

You leaned over the bar. "It's been a busy month."

"Where did you go off to this time?"

"Chicago."

He whistled softly. "Chicago, huh? Must have been a big one to send you all the way there." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “What did the bad guy do this time?”

You gave a small, secretive smile. "You know I can't talk about that. That's classified information."

The corner of his lips turned into a wide grin. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He picked up a glass and began wiping it down. “So, what’ll it be tonight? Your usual Margarita?”

You hesitated, shaking your head.

"Sex on the beach?"

Normally, you'd ask for either—you preferred something light and tangy, a drink that was strong enough to take the edge off without overwhelming you. But tonight was different. Tonight, you needed something with more kick.

“Give me a shot of tequila—no, make it two.”

A frown briefly crossed his face. “Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes,” you insisted. “I need something stronger tonight.”

The man studied your face for a moment before he nodded, pouring two generous shots in front of you. He turned to grab lime wedges from the small fridge under the counter but stopped abruptly when he noticed you’d already downed one of the shots.

"Wow, you weren't kidding.”

The strong liquor burned your throat. “That is disgusting.”

“That’s why you need this to chase it,” he said, sliding the lime wedge and a pinch of salt towards you. “Here.”

You purposely ignored him and brought the second glass to your lips, feeling the burn even before you swallowed.

“Here, take it.”

“No, I’m fine.” You pushed the now empty glass toward him, making a face. “Pour me another one.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on! I’m here with the gang!” You gestured toward the corner where the team was sitting. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

He hesitated, glancing over your shoulder and then back at you. “Fine, but this is the last one,” he said, reluctantly pouring another shot.

You gave him a quick nod, grabbing the shot and lifting it to your lips, steeling yourself for the burn. Just as you were about to drink, you felt a firm hand on your wrist. Your body tensed, not because of the sudden interruption, but because you felt another hand resting at your back before it slowly slid across, settling just at the soft curve of your waist.

You didn’t have to turn your head to know who it was. His smell was unmistakable—clean, with a hint of soap and the faintest trace of coffee.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

You watched as Spencer took the glass from your grip, settling it on the counter. Your brows knit together in confusion. “What are you doing?”

But instead of answering you, his eyes were focused intently on the bartender. “You shouldn’t have given her another glass.”

The bartender’s eyes widened slightly, and he held up his hands. “Hey, she asked for it.”

You nodded along. “To be fair, he did offer me Sex on the Beach.”

That didn’t seem to help. Spencer’s grip tightened on your waist, and you could feel him pulling you slightly closer to him. “That’s not funny. We need to get you some water.”

“Reid, it’s just two shots—”

He cut you off, turning back to the bartender. “Can she get a glass of water?”

The bartender nodded, quickly grabbing a glass and filling it with water. He handed it to Spencer, who then turned his attention back to you. “Drink this, please.”

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you protested.

He placed the glass in your hand. “Drink it.”

“Two shots,” you argued, finally facing him. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve drunk a lot worse than this.”

“I'm aware.”

“Then why does it bother you so much?”

He went quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting between you, the glass of water, then back to you.

“Because I don’t like being the reason you’re drinking something you hate in the first place.”

You quickly downed the cool water. How could you even answer that? Your skin suddenly felt hot, and your palms grew clammy as he kept his hand on your waist. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“It’s not because of you,” you said, shrugging as you set the glass down.

"Isn't it, though? Why else would you be reacting this way?"

“Maybe I just like tequila now. Did you ever think of that?”

“You hate tequila," he replied as if it was common knowledge.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve developed a taste for it.”

“So you’ve suddenly decided you like something you’ve been avoiding for years?”

“Maybe I’m trying new things,” you shot back, your tone sharp. “Maybe you should try it too.”

There was a moment of silence as he considered your words. "I am trying new things."

You felt him tug you slightly, letting your body fall against his. Your heart sped up as you stared up at him. Even in the dim light of the bar, his brown eyes seemed to catch the faint glow, looking lighter and more intense than usual. You watched as his gaze drifted slowly to your lips.

"Reid..."

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

His expression softened as he looked back at you, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. "I'm trying to play the perfect boyfriend."

"So this is all an act?"

This was it, the moment of truth, the point where everything could change. He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “No,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your hip.

Your hand fell to his chest, fingers pressing lightly to feel the rapid beat of his heart. It was pounding, just as fast as yours.

"Spencer..."

He let out a sigh—a sound that seemed to carry both relief and a touch of disbelief as it left his lips. "I thought I'd never hear you call me that again."

He was right. Ever since you drifted apart, calling him Reid felt safer, like a barrier that kept things distant and professional. Spencer was too personal, too intimate for the walls you had built around yourself. But now, standing so close, it felt like the past and present were colliding, making everything more confusing.

Your finger played with the knot of his tie, absentmindedly tracing the pattern. "You're making this more complicated."

He nodded. "I know."

"We're supposed to break this off."

"I know."

"We're supposed to stick to the plan."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling for a moment before replying, “If that's what you want, then we'll go through it. But...”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "But what?"

"But I need to know if it’s really what you want." His voice faltered slightly. "If you want me to leave, I will."

His question hung in the air like a thick fog, making it hard for you to think clearly. It was a simple choice, wasn't it? Stick to the plan, keep up the fake dating, and finally break it off. No mess, no complications. But why, then, did the thought of him leaving feel like a heavy weight in your chest?

You caught him nervously trailing his bottom lip with his tongue—a habit of his when he was deep in thought. The simple gesture made you feel an unexpected pull, and before you knew it, you found yourself pressing closer to him.

“Spence,” you murmured. “You’re making this really hard.”

“I don’t want to make it hard,” he said quietly. “I-I just I need to know where we stand.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. The words felt heavy on your tongue, but you knew you needed to say them.

"I want you to leave," you started, watching as his expression shifted, a hint of pain flickering in his eyes as he slowly pulled away. But before he could step back, you tugged on his tie, pulling him back towards you. "But I'm leaving with you."

His eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?"

And suddenly, a wave of embarrassment washed over you, and you looked away. "What I'm trying to say is... that—well..."

"Well?"

Your gaze focused somewhere beyond his shoulder, finding it easier to speak without meeting his eyes. "I want to finish what we started that morning."

He blinked, processing your words. "You mean... when we..."

"Yeah."

You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Oh." He leaned in slightly, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back. "How drunk are you right now?"

You couldn't help but let a laugh escape your lips, finally looking back at him. "I had two shots!"

His expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You know what this means, right?"

"What?"

"If we…" He trailed off, clearing his throat before continuing, "If we do this, it'll change everything."

You smoothed down his shirt, your fingers lingering on the fabric. "I know."

"And you still want that?"

"I do."

He took a deep breath, searching your eyes for any hesitation. "And you want to leave... right now?"

"Look, if you don't want to—"

He quickly cut you off, shaking his head with a slight, nervous chuckle. “No, I do. I just… I want to make sure you do too.”

"I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't mean it."

His eyes softened. “You’re right,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile that looked almost like a grimace. “Okay. Okay. We’re doing this.”

Seeing him easily flustered was always amusing for you, and this time was no different. "Come on," you urged him, taking his hand in yours. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait, shouldn't we tell them we're leaving?"

You glanced back at your friends. "And tell them what? That we're going to have sex?"

He almost tripped over his own feet. "Well, when you put it that way…"

You squeezed his hand and flashed him a smile over your shoulder as you started toward the exit. With a quick, eager step, he followed behind.

Spencer’s apartment was just as you remembered—deep green walls, warm lighting, bookshelves lining every corner. But you barely had a moment to register your surroundings before he had his face buried in your neck.

His lips found the sensitive spot below your ear. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as his mouth trailed a wet path down your throat, and you had to push against his chest slightly because he was pressing you too hard against the door. For a man who spent most of his time buried in books, he seemed to have an unexpected strength that took you by surprise.

“Hey, hey,” you murmured, a soft giggle escaping as you tilted your head to look at him. “Slow down.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes before leaning down again, his hands coming up to cup your face as he kissed you.

His lips were hot against yours, moving with an eager, almost desperate need. He sucked gently on your lower lip, pulling it into his mouth before releasing it with a soft, audible pop. The sudden absence of his mouth left your skin tingling, only to be followed by the gentle graze of his teeth, a playful nip that made you gasp and clutch his shirt tighter.

You felt lightheaded, melting under his touch as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them open as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them open. You let him in willingly, your tongue meeting his eagerly. The sensation left you feeling hot and dizzy, your entire body craving for more of his taste. It was as if his kiss was an intoxicating drug, leaving you utterly addicted. Even when he pulled away slightly to catch his breath, you grabbed him again, pressing your lips firmly against his.

Spencer sighed with pleasure as he held the back of your head, his fingers splaying against your scalp. You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, lost in the way his lips moved against yours, but the instant you felt his growing bulge brush your hip, you gently pushed him away.

A thin, glistening string of saliva followed you, and you reached up to wipe it from his mouth with a quick, almost embarrassed swipe. His breath came in ragged gasps as he looked down at you, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Sorry, I-I got carried away," he mumbled, letting his hand trail down your spine. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. "You thought I pushed you away because I want us to stop?"

"Uh... maybe? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, Spencer," you said softly, reaching up to loosen the knot of his tie. "I pushed you away because I need you to take me to your bed."

He watched intently as you pulled off his tie, and when you pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, his hands fell to his sides.

"Are you going to watch me undress you, or are you going to help?"

A slow smile spread across his face as he shrugged off the jacket completely, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. "I think I can manage that."

He started to unbutton his shirt, his fingers brushing against yours. The moment the last button was undone, he let the shirt fall to the floor with a soft rustle. Your palm glided over his chest as you took in his bare skin. You expected his body to be lean—he had long limbs, after all—but you didn't expect the subtle, defined muscles beneath your touch.

"Spencer, have you been working out?"

You could tell he was embarrassed by the way he shifted his gaze from you. "Morgan convinced me to stay in shape," he admitted with a shy smile. "He insists it's part of the job."

You plant a kiss right above his heart. "Well, it's definitely working."

The warmth of your lips seemed to ease his embarrassment, and he let out a soft sigh, his hands coming up to caress your back. You glanced up at him again. "Will you take me to your bed now?"

He quickly nodded and guided you towards his bedroom. Once inside, you pushed him down onto the edge of his bed. His hands roamed across your body as you slipped between his legs, slowly unbuttoning your blouse. The front of the fabric fell away and his gaze followed every movement, his hands eagerly helping you slide it off your shoulders.

Your bra came off next, the straps sliding down your arms as you tossed it aside. His eyes swept over you with admiration as he licked his lips, his gaze lingering on the exposed curve of your body. He pulled you closer, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts.

When he wrapped his lips around your nipple, a sharp, electrifying pleasure shot through you. His tongue flicked and teased, alternating between gentle suckles and soft nibbles that made you gasp and arch into his touch. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him to you as he continued his ministrations, moving from one breast to the other.

The hand on your back slid lower, his fingers finding the waistband of your pants. You felt him unbutton them, the fabric loosening around your hips. With a firm but gentle tug, he slipped your pants down your legs, followed closely by your panties, until both garments pooled around your feet.

His hand began running up your leg, fingers slipping between your thighs. He let go of your nipple and looked up at you with those brown eyes that seemed to gleam under the light. “Can I touch you?”

You brushed his hair back gently from his forehead. “You’ve touched me before.”

“I want to hear you say it.” 

You felt his fingertips brush so lightly over your clit and you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed out, “You can touch me.”

All you could do was sigh as his fingers moved again. He was so gentle, so careful, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, spreading your arousal with each teasing stroke. His eyes never left your face, watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your features, drinking in the way your lips parted and your breath hitched with each touch.

"Th—That feels good," you cooed, your eyes fluttering low but not completely shut, wanting to see him as he worked over you. He followed your gaze where his fingers continued their exploration, gently pulling back the soft flesh to expose your clit. He traced light, feathery strokes over the sensitive skin and the motion left your legs shaking, nearly losing balance if he weren't holding you against him.

He grabbed the back of your thigh. “Put your leg up here.”

You complied and rested your feet on the bed, giving more access. The new position allowed him to press his fingers more deeply against your clit, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm. You were trembling, mind numb from the way he was touching you, and you almost couldn’t take it when he dipped his middle finger inside your cunt.

"God, Spencer,” you gasped, dropping a hand to the wrist that was nestled between your legs, nails digging into his skin. He slipped another finger inside you, and your eyes screwed shut this time. You could feel his fingers curling inside you, seeking, then finding, the tender spot that made you cry out in pleasure.

Everything became a blur after that. His fingers continued to thrust into you, and with each movement, you grew wetter, the slick sounds of your arousal echoing throughout his room. You clung to his shoulders for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he pressed soft kisses across your chest. His thumb then brushed against your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure in gentle circles.

"I'm…” Your eyes fluttered open when his mouth latched onto your hard nipple. “I'm gonna come... if you... keep doing that..." 

You weren't even sure why you were warning him, but you couldn’t stop yourself as your hips rolled against his hands. His thumb circled your clit faster in response, and the world around you began to spin. You gasped his name, the sound escaping your lips in a desperate, breathless moan.

When his teeth softly grazed your sensitive nipple, you finally snapped. Wave after wave of orgasm bliss rolled through your body, the pulse of pleasure sending your thighs trembling as he held you through all of it. It's all too much, too intense, and you were left completely spent, shaking, breathless, and needing to lay down immediately.

Spencer caught you as you collapsed on top of him, the force of your weight pushing him onto his back. You stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly against his. But it didn't last long when you felt his bulge press right between your thighs. Without thinking, you found yourself rolling your hips.

He let out a sharp gasp, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you moved against him. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness of his erection pressing against you through the fabric of his pants as your face hovered above his, lips barely touching.

"So when are you going to fuck me?"

He bucked his hips against you. "I-I... I have a condom in my drawer."

His words made you falter. Why does he have a condom?

It was stupid, really, you knew why contraception was necessary. But the thought of him having an active sexual life with someone else after you had drifted apart stung deeply. It wasn’t technically your business, but knowing that he might have been with others hurt, especially when the last man you had been close to was him.

"Spence... why do you have a condom?"

You hated how small your voice sounded.

He gently brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes searching yours as he weighed his words before letting out a sigh. "After… after that night, when we—almost… I just wanted to be prepared. I didn't know if… if we'd ever…"

You slowly relaxed. "So you haven't used any?"

He shook his head. "No, I haven't."

Your heart swelled at his words. You leaned in and kissed him softly, a sudden rush of affection washing over you. "Well, I think it's time we put it to use," you whispered against his lips, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "Where did you put it?"

"Bottom drawer, on the left."

You pulled away to reach over to his drawer, hearing the sound of his belt buckle unlatching behind you. Your eyes briefly flashed towards the book sitting on the nightstand, a glimpse of its cover catching your attention. But you didn’t dwell on it, you were too focused on rummaging through his things until your fingers brushed against the familiar texture of the wrapper.

He was completely naked as you turned to face him again, your eyes catching his cock resting perfectly against his stomach as he leaned back against the pillows. You crawled over to him and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his bulging tip.

He let out a sharp hiss. "I-I don't think I can last long if you do that."

You smiled and straightened yourself, your fingers delicately tearing open the wrapper. You could feel his eyes on you, half-lidded with desire, his focus narrowing to the way your fingers brushed against his skin. His body tensed, and his breathing grew heavier, as you slowly slid the condom down his length.

The thin latex felt almost invisible under your fingertips, allowing the heat radiating from his body to seep through. He couldn't take his eyes off you, mesmerized by the way your fingers glided over him so effortlessly. Your touch was firm yet gentle, and when you finally reached the base, you gave him a final, possessive squeeze.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hands finding your hips as you positioned yourself over him. You hovered above his tip, teasingly brushing it against your entrance before slowly sinking down. You paused halfway, adjusting to his size, feeling lightheaded as he stretched you regardless of how wet you were. It was overwhelming, but the numbness was exactly the kind of rush you were seeking.

And finally, with a deep breath, you let gravity pull you down, taking him all the way in.

You both gasped at the sensation, the intense fullness causing your muscles to clench around him. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he steadied you. Then, slowly, you began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down.

Your breaths synchronized, shallow and quick, as you found a steady rhythm. Spencer’s hands guided you, his palms pressing firmly on your hips before trailing back to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. You held onto his jaw as you leaned in, your lips meeting in a heated, breathless kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth and your brain turned to mush.

He kissed you hungrily while your hips continued to rise and fall, each movement driving him deeper inside you. You felt his hands roam your body, one sliding up your back to pull you closer, while the other remained on your ass, encouraging you. You moaned into his mouth, the sensation of his lips and his cock brushing your tight, inner walls making you tremble with pleasure.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his. "S-Spence..."

He nipped at your bottom lip, casually biting and pulling it between his teeth. "Mhm?"

You didn’t know why you had called out his name, only that you needed to. It was more of a reflex than anything else, a desperate need to connect as your pace quickened. He let out a low, throaty sound of pleasure as your walls clenched around him. And that was when you heard your name on his lips. It was soft, but it was enough to drive you to the edge. You rolled your hips urgently, trying to chase that familiar, blissful sensation but your thighs started to burn, your movements slowing down a little. He sensed your struggle and tightened his hands on your waist.

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips bucking up to meet yours with force. His thrusts suddenly became more relentless, each powerful push driving him deeper inside you. The slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt filled the air, the squelch of your joined body punctuating with each thrust.

The pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until it was all-consuming. Finally, with one last, powerful thrust, you were both pushed over the edge. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm at the same time he spilled into you. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut as your fingers dug into his shoulders, riding out every wave of your climax.

It took a few more minutes before you felt his body relax. You did the same, collapsing on top of him as he is hands softened their grip on you, gently caressing your back.

"Are you… okay?" You simply nodded, too tired to find your own voice. His thumb brushed your side. “Are you sure?”

You nodded again, snuggling yourself closer, feeling the weight of your body pressing down on him. He kissed the top of your head.

“I know you’re making yourself comfortable, but I really need to go to the bathroom.”

You lifted your head, meeting his eyes. “Would it bother you if I peed at the same time you clean yourself?”

The smile that spread across his face lit up his features. “Of course not.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his chest before reluctantly rolling off him. Spencer slid off the bed and reached for your hand, helping you up. You both moved to the bathroom, where Spencer headed for the sink to wash up while you made your way to the toilet.

As you sat there, you thought about how surprisingly natural this felt—almost as if you had done this before. The way he naturally kissed your cheek before exiting the bathroom didn’t feel awkward or out of place, it was oddly comforting. When you finally finished, he was already waiting for you in comfortable clothes. He stretched out his hand, and when you took it, he pulled you close. “Are you hungry?”

You found yourself nodding. “I could eat something.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll make us some sandwiches, I think I have enough stuff in the fridge,” he suggested, and then added somewhat sheepishly, “I also, um, put some fresh clothes out for you to use. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart might burst at how adorable he was. “Thank you, Spence. That’s really sweet.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before heading to the kitchen. You picked up the clothes he had laid out for you—a soft t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, but as you held them, your gaze drifted back to the book sitting on his nightstand. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked up the book, studying the cover.

The Narrative of John Smith.

You opened it, noticing the handwritten quote on the first page.

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone, we find it with another.” —Thomas Merton—

A sudden feeling of nausea hit you, as if you’d been punched in the gut. You flipped through the pages, trying to steady your breathing. It wasn’t the softness of the paper that greeted you as you slipped onto the next page, but the sharp edges of something hard brushing against your fingertips. You carefully pulled out what seemed to be a photograph, your heart sinking as you realized whose it was… Because right in your hand, Maeve was smiling back at you.

Maeve.

Maeve. Donovan.

Everything suddenly came crashing back, the past shooting straight to your heart. The memories, the pain, the confusion—it all flooded your mind in an instant. You remembered why you and Spencer had drifted apart, why that night had changed everything. The woman staring back at you was the reason you had shut yourself off from him in the first place.

No, it wasn’t all her fault—you’d be a heartless fool to blame a dead woman for something she couldn’t control. But she had consumed his mind. The presence she held in his life was enough to end the friendship you once had. And now, holding the photograph, you felt an overwhelming tightness in your chest that made it hard to breathe. The walls seemed to close in, the room feeling too small.

You needed to get out of here.

You quickly pulled on your clothes, the fabric feeling suffocating as you hurriedly dressed. Your movements were frantic, driven by a need to escape. You dashed out of his room, but Spencer was already standing by the bedroom door.

"I was just about to call you, the food is—hey, what's wrong?"

You walked past him, the pain constricting your chest so tightly that you could barely breathe, let alone speak. “I… I need to go,” you stammered out over your shoulder.

Spencer's face fell as he saw the distress in your eyes, his hands reaching out to stop you as you headed for the front door. He turned you to face him, and the moment he saw the tears threatening to spill, his own expression crumpled in worry.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his hands gently cupping your face. You flinched and shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me.”

You noticed the hurt in his eyes, but you barely looked at him, trying to control your own emotions. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion. You felt the lingering warmth from the post-orgasmic rush, the serotonin still buzzing in your veins, but at the same time, the gut-wrenching pain was consuming you. The fleeting sensation you’d felt moments ago seemed like a cruel mockery now, as your heart twisted with every beat.

“You’re really leaving?”

You slowly nodded, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Just like that, after tonight?”

You remained silent, your mouth shut tight. Then you heard him mutter something under his breath, barely audible but unmistakable.

“That’s what you always do, isn’t it?”

Your eyes snapped to him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

There was a heavy silence, a beat of rising tension as his eyes narrowed at you. “You run away when things get hard.”

You stared back at him in surprise. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Yes,” he said sharply. “Every time we get to a point where we might actually resolve something, you disappear.”

Was that really how he saw you? Someone who ran away at the first sign of trouble? The thought was a bitter pill, one that left a heavy, sour taste in your mouth.

“That’s not fair,” you protested, shaking your head as you felt the sting of tears at the corner of your eyes.

“Well, you know what’s not fair?” His voice suddenly turned a pitch higher, each word cutting through the air. “Pulling me into this—this whole fake relationship thing and then running away when it starts to mean something real.”

“What?” The accusation stung, a sharp jab to your already fragile heart. “You think this was easy for me? You think I didn’t have doubts?”

"I think you dragged me into this and now you’re scared because it’s not just a game anymore," he pressed, his eyes flashing with frustration as he stepped closer. “Every time l show that l actually care, you run away.”

“I don’t run away.”

“Yes, you do. You always bail on me,” he argued, his tone growing sharper with each word. “Just like that morning, just like now, and just like that night—”

You finally had enough.

"Don’t you dare bring that up!” You snapped. “You don’t get to use that against me. You know exactly why I had to leave!”

Spencer flinched as if he was struck. The impact of your words hit him hard, and you could see the hurt and realization dawning in his eyes. His posture sagged, the tension in his shoulders melting away as the anger drained from his face. “I know, I know,” he whispered, the regret clear in his voice. “I-I’m sorry.”

Your heart ached, the pain of old wounds reopening. The memories of that night, the way you felt invisible and helpless—it all came crashing back. You shook your head, taking a step back, needing to put distance between you. “No, I can’t do this right now.”

You turned away, desperate to escape. The walls felt like they were closing in, your chest tightening with every breath.

“Wait,” he called after you. “I’m sorry. Please… I don’t… stay, please.”

You paused slightly, but you couldn’t let yourself give in. Not when every painful memory from that night seemed to claw its way back to the surface. Not when the fear of getting hurt again loomed so large. Not when you knew if you turned back now, you might never find the strength to walk away again.

“We should end this whole thing,” you said quietly, each word feeling like a knife twisting in your heart. “I’ll tell Hotch first thing in the morning.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. The reality of what you had said sank in, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had frozen. His face fell, a look of utter devastation crossed his features as his eyes searched yours, trying to grasp at the fragments of what was left. He opened his mouth to speak, but you couldn’t bear to face him any longer.

You slowly reached for the door, wrenching it open before stepping into the cold night. You left him standing there, watching helplessly as you walked away for what felt like the hundredth time.

[novemberheart]

{overview} Another milestone in your relationship with the pack begins, but some members want it to move faster….

{warnings} cursing, mentions of needles and incisions, mentions of sex (nothing really graphic), fem reader, sappy scene, reader being *slightly* objectified, poly141 some smexual smention 😉

Chapter 9 <- Chapter 10 -> Chapter 11

“You're still here.” you smiled, rubbing at your eyes. John smiled at you. He was leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee.

“Don't mind me.” Simon yawned from the couch. “Wouldn't want to interrupt anything.” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don't worry. I'll let you know if you're interrupting.” you teased, walking past him to go to the bathroom.

“Her bedhead is rather endearing,” John commented after you left.

“Don't get too excited. Not sure Kyle’s ass can take anymore.” Simon grunted. John just chuckled.

“Or Johnny’s,” John added, causing Simon’s head to snap back at him.

“You bastards said no group shite until I got better.” Simon reminded.

“Think Kyle filmed some of it. I'll have him send it to you.” John smirked.

“Thank you,” Simon growled, turning back around. You luckily missed that conversation, popping back out after you had brushed your teeth.

“Go pick out an outfit, pretty girl. We have some things to do today.” John spoke, causing you to flush.

“Fun things?” you hinted.

“A mix.” He replied not giving too much away. You huffed heading back towards your bedroom.

You decided to finally wear something one of the boys had gotten for you during your shopping spree. It was a flowy knee-length dress with spaghetti straps. They certainly had taste- you'd give them that. You fixed your hair and made some minor adjustments to your face. It was also still a bit chilly outside so you paired it with a cardigan.

A rumble of approval vibrated in John’s chest as you stepped out. He was pleased with how nice you always looked (even when you just woke up) and he couldn't help but stand a bit taller when people did a double take as you walked by. He would blame it on alpha pride, but he knows Johnny and Kyle enjoy parading you around just as much.

Simon stayed quiet on the couch, eyeing you up and down.

“Ready?” John asked. You nodded your head following him out the door. You stopped, prancing back to the couch where Simon was. He stayed still, but you knew you weren't being sneaky. You leaned over the back of the couch pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he could swat you away. You were surprised when he made no move to.

“I miss you already.” you sighed playfully, skipping back over to John, who was thoroughly enjoying himself at the sight before him.

“I do that to people.” Simon gruffed, making you chuckle.

“Got a daredevil streak in ya, hmm?” John smiled down at you as you walked.

“Just a bit,” you whispered, with a smirk.

“Good girl. He could use some roughing up.”

You immediately understood why he didn't share with you where you were going. You frowned heavily as you approached the medical center.

“‘Nough with the face, sweetheart.” John soothed. He ran the back of his pointer finger against your cheek, causing them to raise in a tiny smile. “We’ll get you chipped then I’ll take you out on a date. How's that sound?” he hummed, watching you as you began to soften to the idea.

“Alright.” you drew out, entering the building as he held the door open for you.

The nurse who ended up coming to chip you was the same one you saw in Simon's hospital room.

“Look at you!” She smiled, running her hands up and down your arms. “You look good, hun. How's the big one?” she questions, getting the supplies set up.

“He's good.” You smiled, trying not to look at the sharp objects.

“Glad to hear. Have you ever been chipped before?”

You shook your head.

“Well this is what it looks like.” she shared, showing you a small disk. It was a bit smaller than a dime.

“That doesn't look too scary.” you swallowed.

“Right? And Dr. Hathaway will give you a shot so you won't feel anything.” she soothed. Just then the door opened and a bubbly woman in a doctor's coat entered.

“Alrighty, now I know how nervous you must be so let's get this done.” she sang. Despite her chipper attitude, her accent was very posh. John moved away from the wall and turned your head to face him, using his other hand to hold your hair out of the way. His thumb rubbed against your cheek and you allowed yourself to relax into him.

“Thanks, Alpha.” the doctor praised his actions, giving her the perfect view of behind your ear. The title made your eyes widen. What business did she have calling him that? Maybe it was a cultural thing. Where you were from the only people who called an alpha ‘alpha’ were pack members. You didn't have to dwell on it long.

“John is fine.” he politely corrected. Your eyes peered up at him and the corner of his lips lifted. Your hands reached up grabbing a hold of his wrist and hand, wanting to keep him as close as possible.

“Alright, love. You are going to feel a small pinch.” Dr. Hathaway warned. You weren't too worried about the needle, just about the incision. John continued to rub soft circles against your cheek and you stared ahead at the picture of sailboats on the wall. “Alright, love. You are all done. Great job.” Dr. Hathaway cheered, giving your arm a gentle squeeze.

“I didn't even feel anything,” you said. “Thank you,” you said to both the nurse (whose name you should really learn) and Dr. Hathaway.

“Thank you,” John repeated after you. “Good girl.” John praised, pressing a quick kiss against the top of your head. He let go of you, all the warmth leaving your body.

“Thank you,” you said suddenly. He looked at you with a quirked brow. “For being gentle with me. I really appreciate it.” you cleared your throat beginning to feel tears well up in your eyes. You quickly blinked them back.

“It's my job as your Alpha and it's something I’ll always be happy to do.” He said softly. The two of you stared at each other for a long moment. An understanding beginning to grow between the two of you. In the back of both of your minds, this situation was admittedly a bit temporary. John had you on a short leash, wanting Simon to get better more than worrying about your feelings. If you didn't fit he wouldn't think twice about sending you back. But you did fit. Perfectly. You got Simon out of his shell. Johnny’s smile hasn't left in a week. Kyle had a new air about him, more confident and excited. Hell, the two muppets raced each other home every day so they can be the first one to kiss you on the cheek.

He didn't even want to admit the things you did to him.

And then there was you. Kate had been right. You had been looking for an out since you arrived. You might have had one on the first day, but that felt so far away now. None of them had done anything to prove to you that they were an incapable, unworthy pack.

It seemed both of you were staring the rest of your lives in the face.

John had ended up taking you to the movies. It was a silly lighthearted comedy. About halfway through he worked up the courage to let his hand wander over to your side of the seat. His fingers skimmed against your knee, watching you out of the corners of his eye for any signs of discomfort. Your hands reached down and grabbed his, resting his hand on your lap. You tangled your fingers together, melting a bit when you realized two of your hands could fit in one of his.

You rested your cheek against his arm, trying your hardest to hold onto your purr. He was happy, you could tell by the sudden warmth entering your nose. You breathed in quickly, trying to absorb as much of the smell as you could. He must not have worn scent blockers today. How did you not smell him before? They must've just worn off. You wondered if he did that on purpose.

Fog and campfire, with a slight hint of tobacco. The fog was fresh and light, but then you got the warmth of a campfire. Smoking can change anyone's scent- not by a lot, but there will always be an edge of it. It must be different from what Simon smokes. Johns complements the warm, firey scent whereas Simons sticks out a bit more.

He leaned down and you wondered if you overstepped. “Gonna have a headache if you keep breathin’ me in like that,” he murmured. You looked up at him- a bit hazy from the scent. He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, adjusting in his seat. “Pretty thing,” he grumbled, trying to focus his attention back on the movie.

“How’d you do?” Kyle questioned as soon as you bounded back in. You were excited to see him. You hadn't seen much of him the past two days because he was busy training some ‘FNGs’ as Johnny had called them.

“You were right it didn't hurt,” you affirmed. He was in the kitchen working on his second bowl of cereal. You hesitantly moved a bit closer to him, and he quickly pulled you closer, tucking you into his side. His fingers brushed against your hip

“Can I interest you in some cereal?” he questioned. “It's gourmet, straight from the finest factory in Albuquerque, New Mexico,” he said in a French accent causing you to giggle.

“Yes, please.” He quickly got a bowl, filling it for you before you could even think about doing it yourself. “My legs are cold. I’m going to change quickly.” you excused yourself, darting to your bedroom.

“You smell good on her,” Kyle spoke up, eyeing his alpha.

“Drivin’ me bloody crazy in the theater. If she smells like that normally can you imagine how she smells in her heat? We’re gonna have to get a cabin in the middle of nowhere.” John groaned, leaning his elbows against the counter. Kyle chuckled.

“That might not be too bad of an idea actually. I was looking in the handbook and we are allowed ten days off a year to deal with heats.” Kyle explained. John sighed. He really needs to look over the omega section of the handbook. He wouldn't want you to miss out on something just because he wasn't diligent.

“Something to think about.” John agreed.

“Is it okay if I sleep with my door open?” you questioned.

“Course,” John answered instantly. “You been havin’ trouble?”

You scrunched your face a bit and nodded.

“I've never been a good sleeper,” you explained. John nodded his head in understanding.

“You can always sleep with me, Bonnie!” Johnny called from the couch. You snickered at the enthusiasm in his voice. “Wasn't kidding.” he pressed with a smirk on his face.

“Tell you what, I’ll try with my door open tonight, and if that doesn't work I’ll come hunt you down,” you promised.

“I'll take that.” he compromised. You got your things ready to go take a shower.

“What are you doing?” Simon questioned, leaning over to peer at Johnny’s phone.

“Trying to find spooky sounds off of YouTube,” Johnny replied. “Haunted house, maybe?”

“You are not scaring her into sleeping with you, fucking nutter.” Simon scolded, ripping his phone out of his hands.

“You're right L.T. I've turned into a desperate man.” he sighed.

Helloooooo! Hope everyone liked this choppy chapter! Chapter 11 will be posted in three days! It's a bit of a rough one 😬 Friendly reminder: reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated, and don't be afraid to pop by my inbox and say hi (and tell me your deepest darkest secrets)

[becomingmina]

Favourite time and place to eat you out - SKZ maknae line. 18+only mdni

Filth lmao

Maknae line:

Han/Han Jisung: Before he goes on stage. Dressing room.

Idk Han just screams horny 24/7.

“Need my good luck charm,” he spins you around into the dressing room after kicking Felix and Seungmin out.

“You going to be good and cum for me before I go out?” He asks pulling your hand towards the couch. All you can do is skip in with him nodding.

He lies back on the couch then pull you to sit on his face, your skirt covering his features. He chuckles then flip your skirt up, moving your panties to the side.

“You’re always so good wearing a skirt to my music shows,” his tongue swipes up and down your folds. The contact making you shiver, you start to grind on his face, hands gripping his wavy brown locks in return.

“Y/n, you wanna be even more good for me next time and not wear panties at all?” He grips your thighs as he starts make out with your pussy, his nose nudging your little bundle of nerve. He loves the way you try to conceal your moans in a setting like this. And although it makes him very needy himself he has to toughen up to go on stage hard, because he knows you’ll return the favour when he comes back.

Felix/Lee Yongbok: After movie night on the couch.

“You reckon the girl should have picked the other guy?” Felix says as he starts to press kisses to your neck.

It’s always like this. When the credit scene starts rolling after a movie on Friday night, Felix would start to shower your body with kisses then his fingers would make their way into your panties, feeling how sticky and wet you are for him. You loved it though, and to be very honest when it’s your time to pick a movie, you would research for one that is erotic or has explicit sex scenes just to get the both of you riled up.

“So wet for me already baby,” he teases. “You must’ve been waiting such a long time for the movie to end hey?” Felix continues to spread your arousal around then pops his fingers in his mouth.

“Need to eat you, I won’t let you wait any longer,” he says before sucking your clit. Felix loves how tired and drained you are on a Friday night, love the way you’re perfectly still with your legs spread for him as you eats you out like it’s his last meal. This would go on for hours.

Kim Seungmin: Before sex. Only when you’re both in bed.

Kim Seungmin doesn’t like quickies. He only would eat you out before you guys have sex. Don’t get him wrong, it’s not that he doesn’t like it. He loves to eat you. He becomes vicious and he just gets so horny from it which always leads to him dicking you down. And he wants to be in the comfort of his own room for that. You would have to cum atleast twice from it before he even thinks about letting you have his cum.

“Give me one more then I can give you my dick,” Seungmin prefers to suck your clit as he finds its makes you go a little bit more dumb for him.

“You haven’t cum enough for me to slide in,” he taunts knowing damn well you’re nearly at your limit and his dick is straining against his pants desperate to be taken care of.

“One more Y/n, you can do it,” all you do is groan at him as your hips lift off the bed into his face, your third orgasm builds up.

“Minnie, please,”

I.N/Yang Jeongin: After he cums in you, any where.

“Too- too much,” you whimper under Jeongin as he laps up the juices and his cum pouring out of your cunt.

“Stay still for me noona,” Jeongin murmured between his kitten licks and sucks.

Jeongin loves to eat you out after he cums in you. He finds it quite intimate to eat his cum out of you and he just thinks you’re super cute when you squirm for him to stop but your hands grip his hair to keep him in place.

If you’re both in bed, his large hands would keep your hips flat on the bed while his tongue dives deep wanting to collect all the semen he shot out just minutes before.

If you two had settle for a quickie, oh god he would have you pressed up against the wall as he kneels down with tongue out waiting patiently under your cunt for his cum to drip out.

Hyung line here.

[tonyboneysblog]

curiosity kills the cat: one shot!

parings: Touya x reader

word count: 1.3k

notes: this was originally gonna be a part in a fanfic I was cooking but i genuinely could not figure out how to write childhood friends with Dabi’s crisped ass.

warnings: none!

summary: Touya always sees kissing in movies, all dramatic and lovey dovey, is it really his fault that he wants to try it on you? just to see how it feels of course!

“this movie fucking sucks.”

“language Touya.”

currently, you were at the treacherous Todoroki household.

Why? You may be asking.

Because you wanted to watch a movie, 27 dresses specifically.

Unfortunately for Touya Todoroki, he’s your only friend to watch the movie with.

now the two of you have been friends since pre-school, kids bullied you- Touya saved you.

you stuck around him after that, much to his dismay.

“Why would you make me watch this garbage.” Touya says harshly.

You huff loudly, “to see if your cold, dark heart had anything in it.”

Touya giggles at your little comment, you liked his laugh.

you wanted to watch this movie for a week, practically begged Touya on your knees for him to even watch it with you.

Touya doesn’t enjoy cheesy rom-coms.

He’s made that quite clear throughout this whole movie.

when the two main characters tried on the dresses he complained.

when they went to the bar together, he complained.

when the characters sang at the bar, he complained then too.

yet when they kissed, Touya didn’t even open his mouth.

“yuck- want me to skip?” You say for Touya’s sake.

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking, “nah, it’s just a kiss.”

“What- you’re suddenly cool with lovey dovey stuff now?” your face is set perplexed.

Touya shrugs, “I see it in TV all the time, why should I care?”

You hum softly, “adults kiss too much.”

Touya hums in agreement, his foot starting to steadily tap.

the movie continues, you catch Touya scoff at one of the movies jokes, he seems to be…actually interested.

but that damn tapping won’t stop.

Doesn’t his leg get tired when he does that?

Finally, at the end of the movie the two main lead get married, and the main actress has her 27 bridesmaids.

cute movie.

“Did you like it Touy?” you ask with excitement bubbling inside your chest.

He responds bluntly, “No- terrible movie.”

“Liar- that was the most I’ve ever seen you pay attention to something!” You point an accusing finger towards him.

Touya swatted your finger away, “I was waiting for the guy to murder the girl.”

“What?!” You retract your finger quickly.

Touya shakes his head as if it were obvious, “He had serial killer vibes..”

You sit there on the couch utterly silent from the words that just came out of Touya’s mouth.

His brows furrow slightly, “What?”

“Nothing, weirdo..”

Touya melts into the couch, picking up the remote and scrolling through the streaming apps choices.

“Any thing else you’d like to watch?”

“Being a gentleman I see?” You hum.

Touya chuckles softly, never responding.

The room is on a comfortable silence for the moment, aside from Touya tapping his foot against the glass table his feet are propped on.

Touya’s foot staggers, “Why do you think adults kiss?”

“Because they like it.” You answer quickly.

Touya shakes his head softly, “yeah but why, why do they like it?”

“Why would I know the answer to that.”

Touya glares at your for a moment, “oh please- your parents basically make out all the time when I’m over.”

“So that means I should know why they like it?” You pick at the fur blanket that was thrown over you prior to starting the movie.

Touya hums a small, “yep” before his foot starts to tap again.

“Didn’t think you were so affected by the kissing scene…” you say under your breath, Touya heard anyway.

“I-I wasn’t affected, I’m just curious on what’s so good about it.” He says quickly, the tapping increasing.

You seriously doubt Touya’s even looking at the tittles on the screen by how fast he’s tapping the remote button.

“Well I wouldn’t know…”

Touya stays quiet for a moment, thinking.

probably about something stupid.

“We could know.”

yep, something stupid.

“What you implying Touya?” You elbow his ribs, making him yelp.

“Ow- I’m saying that…nevermind.” Touya rubs his ribs softly, dropping the remote next to you.

“I mean…you’re just curious right?”

Touya looks up at you, the tapping gets faster.

“Yeah- Why…?”

You pick up the remote, looking it over to act like your doing anything else other that what your about to do.

“We could- do it..” you say quiet and soft.

Touya doesn’t respond, the tapping stopped at least.

suddenly, Touya grabs the remote from your hand- setting it aside.

“We could.”

Great, now you’re forced to look at your best friend.

“Yeah?” You say barely loud enough for Touya to pick up.

Touya nods, his foot starting to steadily tap again.

You cup Touya’s face with your hands- oh gosh are you really doing this?

Touya places his hands on your lap, truthfully he has no clue where to put them.

the taps get faster.

You and Touya look at each-other for a moment, just to make sure you don’t absolutely ruin your friendship.

More like a “you really wanna do this?” stare.

but hey, you were curious.

so was Touya.

1 + 1 = 2.

Two kissing more specifically.

“Jus’ do it already..” Touya says quietly, his face growing red.

You press your lips to Touya’s, it was..nice? soft? kinda gross.

Touya’s lips were quite soft actually, he’d wear chap stick like he’d wear clothes though- he hated dry lips.

Touya’s hand steadily went to your cheeks as well, only difference was his were a lot warmer.

At some point, Touya’s tapping stopped.

you a Touya didn’t though, it’s normal for friends to experience things together- how is a kiss any different?

Your cheeks felt so warm.

wait no- that’s Touya’s quirk.

You starting patting Touya’s thigh as a signal to chill out.

And he got the memo, only after a minute.

You and Touya were only slightly out of breath- you might have 1st degree burns on your cheeks though.

“M’sorry…?” Touya says with his dumb cracky voice.

“you burned my cheeks.” You say curtly.

Touya groans, “I didn’t know I activated my quirk!”

“I’m never kissing you again.” Your tone gets slightly aggressive.

Touy burned your precious face though- so he deserves it.

“I said I didn’t-“

A sudden laughter breaks through Touya’s speak, one that didn’t belong to him.

You whip your head to the door way only to see Touya’s siblings, Natsuo and Fuyumi.

Natsuo is holding onto his stomach, dying with laughter while Fuyumi looks mildly disappointed- more like embarrassed.

“Touya-nii…” Fuyumi says softly.

Touya’s face goes completely red, even reaching his ears.

“You didn’t see a thing.” Touya says sternly.

Natsuo laughs more as he grabs Fuyumi, “dude we saw everything!”

Fuyumi covers her face and Natsuo starts to re-create the scene.

“Oh-la-la! Y/N please kiss me I’m so desperate!” Natsuo says through his giggles.

You can see steam coming from Touya as he jumps over the couch to get to Natsuo.

Natsuo sees this and starts to book it.

So now you have a wild Touya and a trouble making Natsuo in the house.

Fuyumi looks at you, then runs to her room- poor girl doesn’t even wanna face you.

how are family dinners your invited to supposed to go now?

curiosity kills the cat you suppose.

and you are the cat in this situation.

EP:

“Mrs. Rei, this is absolutely delicious!” You say while crunching down on whatever Touya’s mother made for the night.

Touya hums in agreement, basically halfway through his second plate.

Natsuo chuckles before speaking, “maybe you should ask her for some cooking lessons Y/N- mom’s experienced.”

Rei smiles softly, “thank you, Natsuo.”

Natsuo immediately gains the most devious smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Maybe some kissing lessons as well, since you and Touya like that too.”

Immediately silence hits the table.

Touya immediately slams his blow onto the table.

Natsuo runs for his life down the hallway as Touya almost jumps over the table to catch him.

As soon as the boys leave the room your met with a stone faced Rei.

you clear your throat.

“Fuyumi can vouch for me, me and Touya would never do something so sinful!”

Rei chuckles softly, “Fuyumi told me when I came home…”

You whip your head to Fuyumi as she takes her leave, doesn’t wanna face your wrath.

you look towards rei again, sweating bullets as you hear Natsuo screaming bloody murder from two rooms over.

“w-we we’re just curious!”

AN: yall need smth after whatever the hell that episode was😭

[inkspiredwriting]

Love, Hate, and the Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves had always been known for his sharp mind and sharper tongue. Y/N, his girlfriend, was no different. Their relationship was a fiery mix of love and playful antagonism, a dynamic that often left the rest of the Hargreeves family in stitches. Today was no exception.

The siblings had gathered in the living room of the Umbrella Academy, the air filled with the scent of popcorn and the sound of laughter. Klaus had found an old box of family videos and insisted on a movie night, much to everyone’s amusement.

Y/N and Five sat on the couch, bickering over which movie to watch.

“I’m telling you, Five, ‘The Princess Bride’ is a classic!” Y/N argued, holding the DVD case up for emphasis.

“And I’m telling you, Y/N, if I have to hear ‘As you wish’ one more time, I might throw myself into a time vortex,” Five retorted, rolling his eyes.

Diego snickered from his spot on the floor. “Ah, the sweet sound of true love.”

“Viktor,” Y/N pleaded, turning to him for support. “Back me up here. ‘The Princess Bride’ is timeless, right?”

Viktor smiled, enjoying the show. “It is, but watching you two argue is better entertainment.”

Luther, munching on a handful of popcorn, chimed in. “You know, Five, for a guy who’s been through the apocalypse, you’re surprisingly bad at picking battles.”

Five shot him a glare. “And for a guy who’s part gorilla, you’re surprisingly bad at shutting up.”

Klaus, sprawled out on the other couch, giggled. “Oh, leave them alone, Luther. This is their foreplay.”

Y/N and Five both turned a shade of red, but neither was willing to back down.

“Fine,” Five said, crossing his arms. “We’ll watch ‘The Princess Bride’. But if I start quoting it sarcastically, you have only yourself to blame.”

Y/N grinned triumphantly. “Deal. And for the record, if you don’t cry when Inigo Montoya gets his revenge, you’re heartless.”

Five smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. My heart’s in perfect working order. Unlike some people’s taste in movies.”

As the opening credits rolled, the siblings settled in, occasionally glancing at Five and Y/N, who were now sitting unusually close, sharing a bowl of popcorn. The movie played on, and true to his word, Five couldn’t resist a few sarcastic comments.

“‘My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’ Classic line,” Five deadpanned. “Really hits you in the feels.”

Y/N nudged him playfully. “Shut up and watch, smartass.”

Halfway through the movie, during the iconic fire swamp scene, Klaus leaned over to Diego, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Do you think they’re actually fighting, or is this some weird foreplay we don’t understand?”

Diego chuckled. “Given how they are, it’s probably both.”

Y/N threw a piece of popcorn at Klaus. “We can hear you, you know!”

Klaus caught it and popped it into his mouth. “Just saying, you two have the sexual tension of a rom-com.”

Five rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a smirk. “And you have the brain of a goldfish, but we still keep you around.”

Laughter erupted, and even Y/N couldn’t help but join in. The teasing was relentless, but it was also filled with affection. The Hargreeves were a dysfunctional family, but they were a family nonetheless.

As the movie reached its climax, Five found himself genuinely engrossed. He glanced at Y/N, who was watching with a look of pure joy on her face. Despite their constant bickering, he loved seeing her happy.

The final scene played out, and as the credits rolled, Viktor turned to them, grinning. “So, how was it, Five? Are you a ‘Princess Bride’ fan now?”

Five shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N beamed. “I’ll take that as a win.”

Klaus jumped up, stretching dramatically. “Well, this was fun. Let’s do it again sometime. Preferably with more popcorn and less bickering.”

Diego smirked. “Less bickering? With these two? Not a chance.”

Five stood, pulling Y/N up with him. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s leave these amateurs to their popcorn.”

Y/N laughed, following him out of the room. “As you wish.”

The siblings burst into laughter again, and Five couldn’t help but smile. Their love/hate relationship might be a source of endless teasing, but it was also what made them, well, them.

As they walked down the hallway, Y/N slipped her hand into Five’s. “Thanks for watching the movie with me, Five.”

He squeezed her hand, his usual sarcasm softened by genuine affection. “Anytime, Y/N. Just don’t expect me to quote it back to you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she teased.

And with that, they continued down the hall, ready for whatever adventures and arguments lay ahead, knowing that as long as they had each other—and the Hargreeves’ relentless teasing—they could handle anything.

[bonus-links]

DIRECTORS COMMENTARY PLEASE I LOVE HEARING YOUR THOUGHTS AND PROCESS <3!!!!!!!!

YEAHHH lots to say for this update

there's a scene I didn't so much as cut from the beginning of this update as significantly shorten: Wolf, Loft, Wake, and Slate are changing into their lighter outfits. Loft says the same line as having the party, Wake begs them for this one day with his Gran Gran, and they all agree they can wait. I've been trying to get better about like, not putting a ton of work into unnecessary connecting scenes, which is why I cut it down. Wake sounding more cavalier also works better for the overall chapter. But i was sad to leave this joke out lol:

may I present to you, Slate's picture gallery! he was mostly on task documenting flora and fauna but he gets a little sidetracked sometimes

I love the idea that he's just, like, kind of terrible at photography. he documents stuff for Zelda and it's always weirdly cropped and kind of out of focus, but she appreciates it anyway.

Slate is also picking flowers for the party! so he is still helping out on that front lol

idk if i've mentioned this before, but beetle does still have pincers! they're just. idk what the right word is. retractable maybe? yeah. like the ancient weapon blades

the filling of the half moon pies is pineapple :-) i was. so worried about it looking like an egg HAHA.

I thought way too hard about how they were going to cook these pies. I was originally going to draw a clay oven or some other setup, but ultimately I thought the Zelda tradition of only having pots over fires to cook was a funnier nod lol. So, they're frying the pies

believe it or not, I wrote this scene before reading dungeon meshi HAHA but it certainly served as good reference for how to set up shots for it

Aryll did in fact eavesdrop on Wake telling Tetra The Situation

That's Champion's little sister in the memory! I like the headcanon that her name was also Aryll.

Champion and his sister are making meat pies instead of pineapple ones.

One again, made a bunch of layout mistakes I ended up having to fix, except this time I didn't catch them until I had already gotten to rendering :-( if you're a patron, you probably saw these versions in the WIP:

problems here: Wolf is walking the wrong away. I was sad we'd be losing his expression but alas. And for the panels with Champion's sister, the angle is too low to be an actual POV shot. I could've left it and said he's just sitting or something probably but it was really bothering me lol so I redrew everything. and then recolored all of it. woof.

as a general rule, if he has scars, that's Slate. No scars is The Other Guy

I understand the complaint about this in BOTW, but I actually kind of like that weird moment that occurs after you finish a memory cutscene, and it just abruptly goes back to Link looking blank-faced like nothing happened. It implies this kind of....distance from the memories that I find interesting. Slate has complicated feelings abt the memories of Champion's life he gets, but like. there's pies to make

shout out to peony she's a real one

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it. 

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack. 

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s. 

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun. 

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best. 

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening. 

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him. 

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either. 

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins. 

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no. 

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️

[gunnerfc]

Wingwoman | Steph Catley x Cooney-Cross!Reader

Summary: Your sister Kyra notices your crush on Steph and takes it upon herself to be your wing woman 

Warnings: I did use she/her pronouns for R and there is a small makeout scene!

WC: 2.4k

AN: I just think that Steph Catley <3333333

Kyra rolled her eyes when she heard your loud laughter in response to Steph's not-that-funny joke. The midfielder was shocked no one else had figured out your crush on your fellow Aussie, you made it painfully obvious to everyone, including Steph herself. Your younger sister decided right then that she would become your wingwoman and help you get a date with your national team captain.

Kyra took her first shot during the team’s gym session when you were separated from Steph. It was hard to not find you two attached to the hip. 

“Hey Steffy,” Kyra sang as she picked up a set of weights. “Hi, Kyra,” the older woman responded, a small groan falling from her lips when she noticed who it was. Steph loved Kyra but she was not in the mood to deal with any of her jokes.

Steph had, or so she thought, been doing her best to show you how interested in you she was. Yet, all of her advances seemed to fail when you made no effort to reciprocate her feelings. You two have played together for the Matildas for a long time and the defender has always had a small crush on you that seemed to grow when you joined Arsenal. 

“What do you think of Y/n/n,” Kyra asked, trying her hardest to make anything obvious just yet.

Steph paused her movements, a small weight still in her grasp. She could feel her cheeks grow warmer at the mere mention of you and quickly turned her head away from the young midfielder. Why was your younger sister suddenly asking about you?

“Um, I think she’s... cool,” the defender replied, rolling her eyes when she couldn’t come up with a better word to describe you. She had plenty of nice things to say about you, but all of them were far too romantic and cheesy to say to Kyra.

“I disagree but whatever, moving on,” Kyra joked, not missing the chance to be a typical younger sister. “Do you think she’s pretty,” she questioned, hoping to bait Steph into saying more than just ‘cool.’

“Of course, why wouldn’t I? She’s one of the prettiest people I’ve ever met,” Steph rushed out, her cheeks once again heating up as she thought about how attractive you were.

Kyra had to resist the urge to dramatically gag at her words and instead opted to not respond. She left Steph to do her weight lifts, leaving her confused and slightly worried that she might have made it too obvious she had a crush on you.

Steph tried to shake her thoughts but she heard you laughing loudly at Katie and Leah and her eyes immediately landed on you. She wasn’t sure what else she could do to make you see how she felt about you but little did she know Kyra had it (slightly) under control.

Kyra didn’t say anything else to either of you until you were in the car headed to your shared flat. “So, when do you plan on telling Steph you’re madly in love with her,” your younger sister teasingly asked when you stopped at a red light.

Your eyes widened in shock as you jerked your head in her direction. “What are you talking about,” you rushed out, you thought you hadn’t made it obvious at all considering Steph hadn’t tried to make a move.

“Please, have you heard how loudly you laugh at her jokes,” Kyra rolled her eyes as she responded to a text from Alessia.

“Her jokes are funny,” you tried to defend yourself, you thought the jokes Steph made were hilarious.

“Everything is funny when you haven't fucked,” Kyra shot back with a raised eyebrow, daring you to challenge her words.

“Kyra!,” your eyes widened at her words, but you had no other rebuttal and focused on driving once the light changed. 

The rest of the car ride was silent as you replayed Kyra’s few words. Surely you hadn’t been that obvious with how you acted around Steph. If your sister was able to catch on, maybe your other teammates had as well. Or, maybe Steph herself knew and didn’t feel the same way and that’s why she hadn’t made a move.

While you spent the rest of the evening thinking about every interaction you had with Steph, Kyra was busy texting Alessia and Vic asking for help trying to set you up with Steph. You could hear your younger sister giggling through the walls and could only hope she hadn’t told any of your Arsenal teammates. Or worse, your Matildas teammates. You knew if any of them knew, you truly wouldn’t live it down.

Kyra rolled her eyes at her screen when she read Alessia’s text that said she should force the two of you into a closet. The midfielder quickly responded saying that was too cheesy and she needed something different.

An idea popped into her head when Vic said something about needing one of you to feel jealous. The team had planned a night out for the upcoming weekend after the game and knew it would be her chance to force one of you to make a move. She quickly texted the small group chat to say she had a plan but refused to elaborate. 

Kyra spent the rest of the week planting small hints to you and Steph about the other, hoping to make you both think about the interactions you two have had. After the final whistle blew for that week’s game, Kyra watched you hug Steph for much longer than two friends would and rolled her eyes when you both pulled away with a deep blush.

The team quickly showered and changed before heading to a local late-night hangout bar to celebrate the win. You purposely avoided Steph and opted to sit with Stina and Frida at the opposite end of the table but your eyes swayed toward the defender every few seconds. 

You nodded along to the conversation your two teammates were having but your mind was focused on Steph. The little comments Kyra had made throughout the week were starting to get to you and you felt like you were getting your hopes up. 

You weren’t paying attention when Kyra, along with Alessia and Vic, excused themselves to the bar. This would be Kyra’s final move in an attempt to get you and Steph together and if it didn’t work, she might have to take Alessia up on her offer to shove you two into a closet. 

“Excuse me,” your younger sister started, gaining the attention of the closest bartender. “Do you see that girl at the end of the table over there,” Kyra asked as she subtly pointed over her shoulder to you.

The bartender nodded in response once his eyes landed on you. “Can you fix a random drink and take it to her and tell her someone from the bar sent it to her? But don’t say who, we’re trying to make two idiots realize their feelings,” Kyra asked, hoping this would work out the way she was hoping. 

The bartender chuckled to himself at her request but nodded again anyway. Kyra knew you wouldn’t drink during the season but a random person wouldn’t know that which made it seem a bit more believable that it was from a stranger. The trio quickly headed back to the table, no one had realized they had been at the bar. 

You were deep in conversation with Stina when a drink was placed in front of you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and you felt your cheeks warm slightly when you realized all of your teammates' eyes were on you. 

“Um, I didn’t order this,” you started but the bartender quickly cut you off to tell you it was from someone else. He didn’t stick around long enough for you to ask who at the bar it was from.

A few of your teammates let out whistles and laughs before they started teasing you about having an admirer. You playfully rolled your eyes at their comments but when you locked eyes with Steph, there was a different look in her eye that you hadn’t seen before. You swallowed lightly before tearing your eyes from hers and continuing your conversation with your Swedish teammate. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Steph stand before making her way to the bathroom. You resisted the urge to let your eyes linger on her and forced yourself to keep the conversation flowing. Your phone dinged a few moments later with a text and you quickly apologized to Stina before checking who it was from.

You held your breath for a moment when you read Steph’s name followed by her asking you to come to the bathroom. You waited a moment before excusing yourself in hopes it wasn’t obvious. With your back now facing the group as you made your way to the bathroom, you missed the little high-five your sister and her two new close friends gave each other. 

You quietly knocked on the door to let Steph know you were there and it was unlocked a second later. You quickly entered the bathroom and locked the door behind you. Steph was leaning against the sink with her arms crossed. You’ve never seen her look this upset, especially at you in the years that you've known her. 

You waited to speak, giving her time to process whatever she was thinking. The silence in the room was thick and the tension was growing. You watched Steph clench her jaw a few times before she started speaking.

“This isn’t how I thought I'd be telling you this but I’m in love with you. I know I should have told you sooner but I didn’t know if you felt the same way because you never seemed to reciprocate anything then Kyra kept saying these little comments that made me think that maybe you do feel the same way,” the defender declared before stopping to take a breath.

Your jaw fell open slightly at her words, the shock was evident across your face. You thought about her words, pausing on what she said about your sister. Kyra had been telling you both things the past week in hopes you’d both get it together and say anything to the other. A small part of you was grateful for your sister’s intervention but you were mainly focused on the fact that Steph felt the same way you did.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way I do, I thought you were just being super friendly! If I had known you felt the same way, I would have said something way sooner, I just didnt want to ruin our friendship on the off chance you didnt feel the same way,” you blurted out before Steph had a chance to say anything.

Both of you stood in silence as you processed what the other said, realizing you both are terrible at reading hints. Steph chuckled to herself before she took a few steps toward you and moved a hand to rest on your cheek. You locked eyes with her before yours dropped to her lips, subconsciously licking your own as you thought about kissing her.

Steph took one final step toward you until your noses were touching before whispering against your lips “Can I kiss you?” You nodded softly and her lips were on yours a second later. Your lips moved against each other slowly, giving you both a chance to truly take in the fact you were actually kissing.

Steph’s lips started moving against yours faster as her other hand moved to rest on your waist. You tilted your head slightly making it easier for her to take control of the kiss as one of your hands wrapped around her wrist. Your lips fought each other before Steph pulled back when air became a problem.

The defender rested her forehead against yours as you both heaved slightly in an attempt to catch your breath. “I can’t believe we have to thank Kyra for this,” you groaned softly when the realization hit. 

“Actually, I think we should thank whoever sent you that drink,” Steph joked with a small smile on her face.

You laughed softly at her words before speaking again, “Were you jealous, Steffy” you teased with a matching grin on your face.

Steph rolled her eyes at your words but the red tint on her cheeks gave her away. You chuckled as she leaned in to give you a quick peck before unlocking the door behind you. You made your way back to the table your teammates were at, ignoring the teasing comments thrown your way.

“Fucking finally,” Kyra groaned when she noticed your intertwined hands. “If that drink didn’t work, I was ready to lock you two in a closet and throw away the key,” the midfielder huffed when you two sat down.

“Wait, it was YOU who sent the drink,” you gasped at your sister, eyes wide at her words.

“Yes! Neither of you would have made a move if it weren't out of jealousy so I had to come up with something,” Kyra all but yelled. 

The rest of your teammates laughed at her outburst knowing she was right. You and Steph sat in shock even though you both also knew she had a point. “Anyways! When’s your first date then,” your sister smirked.

Neither of you spoke as you both went red in the face. “Um, we didn’t get that far,” the defender spoke for the both of you as she cleared her throat.

“What do you mean you didn’t get that far, you were gone for like ten minutes? What happened in the bathroom,” this time, it was Caitlin’s turn to question the two of you.

You both avoided the eyes of your teammates, finding your surroundings much more interesting. It was Katie who started laughing loudly before shouting you two were doing something “dirty.” Your eyes widened and before you could tell the group that wasn’t true, more teasing comments were thrown your way. 

You groaned at their words before Steph leaned in to whisper in your ear to ignore what they were saying. Her hand wrapped around yours tightly as your teammates said every joke they could think of. 

Your face was hot as you heard the things they were saying but you did your best to tune them out. You locked eyes with your sister who was across from you, sending her a small smile and mouthing ‘thank you.’ Kyra sent you a bright smile in return before laughing along with your teammates.

Deep down you didn’t mind the comments they made, you were just grateful to finally be making progress with Steph. You squeezed her hand softly before leaning back in your chair, a large grin gracing your features.

[longing-for-the-past-times]

The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - three.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 4,057

synopsis: you get wasted in a pub and Ghost has to take care of you.

warnings: mentions of drinking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, Ghost being a softie

notes: I had a lot of fun writing this. Here are the main videos that inspired some scenes (potential spoiler alert): one, two

reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

three.

The traditional post-mission gathering at the pub was in full swing in the late hours of the night, despite it being a Tuesday evening. The atmosphere was almost cosy and relaxed if you were to overlook the three people on the karaoke stage and the way their out-of-sync voices resounded throughout the room.

Seated at one of the tables with a glass of sparkling water, Captain Price exchanged a distressed look with Ghost, who was nursing a shot of Kentucky Bourbon. It was the captain's turn to drive so alcoholic drinks were out of the equation for him.

So he had to spend the entire night watching you, Gaz and Soap getting wasted and trying every form of entertainment the pub offered. You'd started slow with a game of darts, the loser having to drink a shot of whatever the winner decided. As the night progressed you went on to the pool table, had a break to tell stories and debate the key moments of the mission and eventually ended up at the karaoke bar, drunkenly singing to whatever songs were popular at the moment.

You were currently wedged between Gaz and Soap, leaning against each other for support, swaying and gesturing with exaggerated expressions when a new song would come on. You had lost track of the quantity of alcohol you consumed a while ago, yet everything seemed brighter and more colourful than before, so you didn't mind. You didn't know most of the songs that were playing at the karaoke bar, but that did not stop you from singing along, even if your voice was slightly out of tune. What you knew is that you were happy, perhaps happier than ever and, out of a sudden, you felt the need to express that in the loudest way possible, by taking Soap’s phone from his hands and picking the next song.

Surprised by your sudden move, Soap chuckled and gestured to the bartender to prepare three more drinks, even though he had his arm sloppily thrown around your shoulder, and was fighting a tough battle with gravitation. On your right side, Gaz was sloppily reaching towards the microphones, almost tripping over an imaginary wire. You caught him in the last second, grabbing a seat and forcing him to stay put as the first notes of the song echoed through the pub. A surge of drunken determination rushed through your veins as you took one of the microphones and turned towards the table Ghost and Price were seated at, wobbling slightly in the process.

“Captain, Lieutenant - I just… I just wanted to say this is for you. To Price - always being the helicopter, yet cool dad of the group!”. The drunken cheers of Soap’s and Gaz’s quickly accompanied your words, none of them realising how quiet the room had got. Everyone else left in the pub at that hour seemed to put whatever they were doing on hold and watch the inebriated toast with interest.

“And to Ghost!”, you went on unaware of the mood shift, your voice gaining momentum with each word, “who is always taking care of us during missions and let me fall asleep on him once! Cheers!”

Shaking his head in an attempt to hide the grin dancing on his lips, Price raised his glass and beckoned Ghost to do so too. At that moment, Simon was glad he was wearing the balaclava - he could feel an uncharacteristic blush spread across his face, not to mention that he could not control the visible twitching of his lips. The public seemed to be satisfied with the makeshift speech as a round of applause rippled through the crowd, but stopped as suddenly as it began. A familiar tune began to play in the background, and Simon almost pinched his forehead in frustration and disbelief when he saw the drunken determination and the over-confident grin plastered on your face: he had seen that expression before, it meant you were up to no good. His fears were instantly confirmed when the opening chords of Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” filled the space, being quickly accompanied by the shouts and whistles coming from the crowd.

You, Gaz and Soap began swaying to the rhythm of the music, humming along to the first part of the song. Ghost was actually impressed that you made it sound nice, keeping your voices low and soft and singing in sync for once. He turned his head to Price, not surprised to see the older man had reached for his phone and was filming the trio like a proud father on recital day.

That is until the part of the choreo came. And literal chaos ensued, as the three of you began screaming because that was definitely not singing, the high notes, even stopping to gasp for air every once in a while.

"I hope life treats you kind And I hope you have all you've dreamed of And I wish you joy and happiness But above all this, I'm wishing you love!"

He did not know when he made eye contact with you, but Simon found himself trapped inside your E/C eyes. The bourbon tasted sweet on his lips, but it did not compare to the joyful and carefree expression you wore on your face as you tried to keep up with the lyrics of the song, occasionally stumbling across Johnny and Kyle who were just as inebriated and dedicated to the artistic moment as you were. The familiar feeling of warmth and comfort was once again blooming in his chest, and for the first time, he decided to let it grow and see where it would take him.

---

You hadn't meant to lock eyes with Simon, definitely not when you were singing a romantic song you handpicked for the occasion. Yet your judgement was clouded by all the alcohol you'd consumed up to that point and now you couldn't tear your eyes away from his chocolate ones. And from his soft blonde eyelashes that made your heart flutter every time you saw them- making you even stutter on the lyrics of the song that you kept close to your heart. At one point you weren't even aware of the words leaving your mouth, just going along with Gaz and Soap, the two literally putting their hearts into the song.

That was until the second part of the choreo came. And you were so into it that you all fell down on your knees, pathetically crying and shrieking the high-pitched notes that Whitney Houston handled with ease.

Simon did not even know why the three of you bothered to come to training and shooting practices. In moments like that, your voices were lethal weapons alone.

And when the song came to an end, the crowd politely applauded you, secretly glad that it was over. Price was careful to save the video twice so as not to lose it, the proud and amused expression on his face not faltering once:

"I think it's high time we took them home, don't you think?", he asked Simon in an unusual cheery mode, downing his glass of sparkling water.

Ghost could only nod as his eyes were trained on your swaying figure. You were leaning against Gaz, a drunken smile on your face as you downed the drink the bartender slid to you with a wink. For a moment, Simon was too caught up in studying the way your eyes crinkled at the corners to notice them widen in an instant as you brought up a hand to your mouth. His jaw tightened when he realised you were stumbling towards the bathroom, probably sick from one too many a drink, and subtly gestured to Price that he'd get you and meet him at the car, before heading towards the bathroom himself.

However, he slowed down in his steps when he realised he wasn't the only one headed in that direction; the bartender had already beaten him to it. Ghost stopped dead in his tracks, his fists involuntarily clenching as he noticed the man standing near the entrance to the ladies' room, wearing an almost expectant expression, his gaze directed towards the toilets. The sound of you throwing up was the only thing that could be heard against the muffled background sound of the pub, followed eventually by the rush of flushing water.

Washing your hands and face, you took a look at your pale face in the mirror, closing your eyes in defeat. It was definitely time to call it a night and find a ride home or crash on someone's couch, and you accepted the thought as you made your way out of the restroom. Yet you didn't manage to go far as a man you vaguely recognized as the bartender stopped in front of you, hands crossed over his chest in what was supposed to be a masculine stance. You internally scoffed at his posture; you have seen it all during the years you've spent in the military.

"Hey!", he eventually said, a light smile on his face. "Hello! Do you mind, I would like to go back to my friends?", you briefly asked, already trying to sneak past him.

But the man was insistent and stepped in the same direction, making you stop once more.

"Look, I just wanted to say I really enjoyed the show you put on tonight!". You raised a single eyebrow, a poker look on your face. "You and your friends, I mean!", he quickly added, blushing slightly. "And I was just wondering if you would like to stay for a drink after my shift is over and, you know, perhaps go to my place afterwards and…" Rolling your eyes in frustration, you let out an impatient sigh and tried to go past him again, only to be stopped by a firm grip on your arm.

"Look, you should really think about it-" "I wouldn't do that if I were you. She may be drunk, but she can still kick your ass in at least six different ways."

Drunk as you were, you couldn't hide the grin that spread quickly across your face as you took in the imposing figure of the Lieutenant, his skull balaclava lending him a threatening air in the dim light of the hallway. The bartender swiftly let you go, his eyes darting between you two as you staggered towards Ghost, too busy to fully take him in to take note of the hand that was softly placed on the small of your back.

"Oh, mate, I think this is a misunderstanding! I was just… but who the hell are you actually? Do you know him, darling?"

You grimaced at the unjustified use of the endearment, a plain expression of distaste replacing the previous smile. You swayed slightly, having to lean against Ghost as you mumbled something unintelligible about the toast. An unexpected wave of fatigue hit you out of nowhere, making you nestle your head against his chest, your arms weakly wrapping around his shoulders.

"I'm tired, I wanna go home, Ghost!", you murmured gently into his shirt, the vibrations of your voice sending a quiver down his spine. Yet if Ghost was affected by the unexpected display of clinginess, he did not let it show. Instead, he made a quick job of scooping you into his arms, your head nestling in the crook of his neck. Letting out a satisfied sigh, you closed your eyes and unconsciously nuzzled your cheek against the soft material of the balaclava, breathing in the scent of his cologne, your hands still clinging onto his shoulders in a koala-like grip.

For a fleeting moment, he became utterly oblivious to his surroundings, his mind consumed by the moment, struggling to make sense of the situation in which both of you had found yourselves. He didn't exactly freeze, but his brain didn't work properly either as the feeling of your breaths against his balaclava sent an electrifying jolt through him. You may have just washed your face and the perfume you wore must have faded during the night, but the subtle smell of your shampoo lingered, sweet enough to leave an impression that he knew would stay with him for the days to come. When he eventually realised you weren't alone, that the bartender was still loitering by the restroom's entrance, Ghost shrugged, remembering your previous words:

"You should have listened to the toast, mate!"

---

Carrying you to Price's pickup trunk proved to be no easy feat for Simon; he was too distracted by the hold you had on him, both literally and figuratively. It was as if his mind had turned to jelly and he could not distinguish dream from reality. And at that moment, he experienced the sensation of living within a pleasant dream, you being in his arms just as he often yearned for when trying to fall asleep in the solitude of his room.

If Price was surprised by the state you found yourself in, he showed no signs. He had just managed to secure Soap in the passenger seat, while Gaz was passed out in the back, head leaning against the window, an empty look on his face.

"I'm sorry Simon but you'll have to sit in the middle tonight", the captain chuckled under his breath as he was watching Ghost put two and two together while you were still clinging to him as if your life depended on it.

He would not be able to get in the car while also preserving the position you found yourself in, yet he did not want to give it up. For a passing instant, he actually thought of walking to your place- a weak attempt at trying to make the moment last longer. But he could feel Price's badly concealed smirk like the heat of the sun in July and he had to fight, actually fight the groan that threatened to leave him as he nudged you with his shoulder.

"Wake up, Bambi! We've got to get you home, come on!" His words reached your ears as a distant sound and instead, you chose to relish in the vibrations that resonated against your skin, letting out a small hum of approval.

"Ok means okay, come on!" "Mhm, sure…" "Y/N…" "Simon…"

Clinging on him like a koala had no visible effect on him, but you saying his name, his real name, made Ghost freeze and set his dark eyes on you. He could not control the cocktail of feelings swimming in his orbs, ranging from surprise to pure adoration, and the thought of hiding them did not even cross his mind at that moment.

Until you were both showered in a sudden burst of light, quickly followed by a camera shutter. Behind the Polaroid camera, Price did not even bother to hide his satisfied expression as he watched the picture develop with a soft whirring sound.

You, on the other hand, instantly jumped from Ghost's arms, the flash of the camera making you look like a deer caught in the headlights. You were still inebriated, as the world was spinning much more than it should have, but the drowsiness from earlier had evaporated in an instant. Shaking his head in disbelief and muttering something along the lines of "fucking hell", Ghost did not even bother to answer Soap's cheers. He just squeezed into the backseat of Price's car, seating himself next to Gaz and trying his best to ensure you would not hit your head and get in safely. And the giddy smile he got as a response was worth it.

Price was the last to get in the car. As he positioned himself behind the wheel, Ghost couldn't help but wonder where he'd hidden the Polaroid camera and the picture. Knowing the older man, he could only hope the instant shot would not be displayed in the lounging room, alongside other just as embarrassing moments.

Not that he had something against you or the picture.

He just thought that the moment was rather special, even intimate to him and that it should not be shared with all other SAS operators who spent their time in the lounging room when on base.

"You three did quite a show out there!", Price half-turned towards Soap and the backseat riders, a comic expression on his face.

"Thanks, dad!", you replied in an awfully cheery tone, swaying slightly from one side to another. You kept humming to yourself, not taking note of the awkward silence that had settled in the car.

"Bambi, did you just call Price 'dad'?", Soap asked from the front seat, his shit-eating grin being reflected in the rearview mirror.

"Do you see me as a father figure, Y/N?", Price quipped in, smiling softly at your confused expression. Simon did not even dare to glance in your direction - he knew the doe eyes were making a comeback and he was definitely not inebriated enough to handle them.

"I certainly do!"

Gaz's voice was muffled as his cheek was currently squished against the window. But the message got across and you reached across Ghost to pat his shoulder, aggressively nodding in compliance.

"And this is why", you began by raising a finger in the air as if to strengthen your point, "you are my brother, Gaz!".

Your drunken determination was almost comical to watch, but it topped when you squealed in excitement:

"Let me give you a kiss!"

"No, you won't! I'm definitely not getting caught up in the middle of this!"

Ghost's answer, more of a growl actually, was instantly followed by Soap's booming laughter as the Scot was trying to turn and face the backseat, extending a grabby hand towards you:

"I'm happily accepting your kisses if you'll let me, bonnie!", he slurred half of the sentence, his head comfortably propped on the headrest as he puckered his lips in your direction.

"No one's getting any kisses!"

----

"Come on, careful, there's a step there!" "I wanna go home…" "We are almost there, Bambi. Now, do you have your key?" "Yeah, it should be in my pocket. Let me… let me look for it…"

Murmuring to yourself, you fished the keychain and held it before your eyes, a small chuckle escaping your lips as the keys kept jingling. The tiredness from the pub was making a comeback and Ghost had to carry you inside after he managed to open the door while also balancing your swaying silhouette.

"Oh, this couch looks good!", you muttered to yourself, letting yourself fall on it.

But instead of touching the plush pillows, you felt two strong arms sneaking around your waist and keeping you partially suspended in the air. You opened your mouth to protest, but before you were aware of it, you were headed in the direction of your bedroom, a warm hand placed on the small of your back.

"You should change into something more comfortable…", Ghost muttered, frowning when you started shaking your head and slurring: "I'll do it in the morning."

He already felt like he was prying, being inside your home, in the privacy of your bedroom, so he did not push the topic and instead, knelt down and removed your sneakers.

"You should at least clean your face." He pressed on the issue, all too aware of your fixation with skincare and how you would complain to anyone on the base about the latest breakout on your face. "Mhm.." "Mhm means yes, Bambi!", he groaned in frustration as he bent down to scoop you in his arms again and carried you to the bathroom, where he laid you on the fitted furniture so that your faces were at the same level.

Ghost was no stranger to makeup removal techniques - he had his fair share of experiences he had gone through when learning what worked best for the black paint he used to smudge the area around his eyes. But he began to grow tired as well, and being in your house took him way out of his comfort zone, so he resumed reaching for a pack of makeup wipes, instead of looking for a cleansing balm or micellar water. His touch was gentle against your face, his fingers applying the suitable amount of pressure needed to get rid of any traces of eyeshadow and whatnot. There was a faint tremor in his hand when he reached your lips, but the remnants of lipstick had to be removed too.

He was not prepared for the sudden shiver that raced down his spine the moment his fingertips brushed against your lips. His breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat as he continued to delicately trace the outline of your lips, the warm and comforting sensation he'd felt before, making a return. For a moment, the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you locked at the moment, Ghost's eyes fervently searching for yours, as he rested a gloved hand against your face.

Letting out a soft sigh, you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

"Don't fall asleep on me…", Ghost hummed under his breath, involuntarily rubbing his thumb against your cheek. His gentle touch was a far cry from the deadly one that had become second nature on the battlefield.

"I trust you'll catch me", you whispered back, a delicate smile on your face.

And he did. With a tender grin under his balaclava, Ghost lifted you into his arms once more, cradling you like the treasure you were. Your head rested against his chest as he carried you back to your bedroom, each step filled with a quiet intimacy, completely new to him.

He entered the dark room, gently lying you down on the soft sheets, almost amazed at how quickly you passed out, again. Yes, you may have been wasted, completely inebriated, but you also trusted him to let him take care of you in your state.

Even if the action was foreign to him, Ghost tucked you in as best as he could, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. His internal conflict was a raging storm, but he eventually let the few shots of bourbon get to his head. With shaky gestures, he peeled the mask up to his nose and brought his lips to your forehead in a chaste kiss. His warm breath lingered over your face for a couple of seconds before he quietly exited the room, leaving you in a peaceful slumber.

---

Bonus scene

Sitting by himself at the small table in the kitchen, Simon lifted the balaclava up to his nose and breathed in the scent of Earl Grey, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. He could see the tendrils of steam rolling out of the freshly brewed mug, the late autumn morning sun filtering through the blinds and bathing the room in warmth and light.

After every single evening spent celebrating in the pub, you, Gaz and Soap had to take the day off and volunteer yourselves for the night watch. Ghost had grown so accustomed to the usual agitation, whether it was Gaz jogging in the kitchen for a snack, Soap casually napping in the lounging room, or you, asking everyone where they had hidden the cookies, and he was finding it weird to spend the day in relative silence and peace.

And he was so lost in his thoughts, replaying the events of the previous night in his head, that he failed to notice the private who was lingering in the doorway and looking at him with a mixture of fear and admiration. It wasn't until he reached for the milk, that he took note of his presence and gave him a questioning look. "Captain Price asked me to deliver this personally to you, sir!" The private placed a white envelope on the table, saluted and quickly left the room. Simon had no time to analyze the interaction as his eyes settled on the letter.

Only it was not a letter, but a photograph. And after double checking, he was alone in the room, Simon actually let out a small chuckle as he held the polaroid in the sunlight, his eyes softening at the sight of you cradled in his arms, nuzzling your head against his chest.

taglist: @neoarchipelago, @thecorruptedlovely, @mitchlow, @fieldsofbats, @thaprilks, @stars-andfreckles, @that-napa-know-how, @preistinajamjar

[ggukiepie]

one of your girls (jungkook x reader) (part 1)

we don't gotta be in love, no i don't wanna be the one, no i just wanna be one of your girls tonight ~ i wanna take your light inside dim me down, snuff me out ~ give me tough love leave me with nothin' when i come down

pairing: fwb!jk x oc, brief jimin x oc

tags: smut, angst, a little bit of fluff (like teeny tiny)

warnings: two smut scenes, kissing, marking (hickeys), fingering, brief handjob, protected sex, slight dom!jk, sub!oc, praise, dirty talk, grinding, edging, oral (f. & m. receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, spit kink, brief masturbation (m.), squirting, brief anal play, back shots, cum shot, multiple orgasms (you'll see), aftercare

word count: 5.8k

a/n: been in my feels lately i had to write it out lol; wrote this in one sitting my hands actually hurt omg; inspired by the song "one of your girls" (ik don't roast me idk why it's stuck in my head fml); if this gets taken down then bye bye i literally just wrote it here directly lmaooooo; anw enjoy !!!! part 2 / drabble i (flashback)

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

You knew what you were getting yourself into the night you said yes to Jungkook. You knew you'd fall for him, be under his spell. You knew you'd end up getting hurt. You prepared yourself, you really did, yet you were still surprised when you woke up each morning and he wasn't beside you in bed. You felt your heart break a little bit more when you saw him with another girl, whether she'd be one of your friends or a complete stranger to you.

You tried to guard your heart. Reminded yourself to prepare for the worst. Forced yourself not to fall, not to be blindsided. I'm just having a little fun, you told yourself for the nth time.

jk: u busy tonight?

you: not really! just writing a paper that's due next week

That was sent hours ago and you mentally cringe at your reply. You always find yourself oversharing to Jungkook when you didn't even need to. You wanted to make it seem like your whole situationship was just casual. Like you didn't care. He rarely shared much about his personal life and so should you. But that hardly happened. You didn't want him to think that you cared, that you were clingy or waiting for him to text. You didn't even wait five minutes before replying and he hasn't even texted back.

You know what his text means. He wants to fuck and that's it. But he doesn't say it outright. No, never. He wants to make it seem like he cares, that he wants to know how your night is going. But he just wants to know if you're free to fuck and once you reply, he'll keep that as a reminder in the back of his mind, like he has a mental list of girls he can sort through at the end of the night when he's bored or when he wants to have a little bit of fun.

You know you're just one of his girls on his roster and you're fine with that. You're not his girlfriend and he's not your boyfriend. Though it does seem like that on some days, which is when you get the courage to not reply to his texts. When you try to shut him out and move on. He usually shows up outside your lecture hall with a cup of coffee in hand, bunny smile on his face as he waits for you to walk into the hallway. Like he's waiting for you, picking you up from class like a good and loving boyfriend.

It's all for show and it's only to get himself on your good side again. It works every time. You don't question yourself anymore. Jungkook likes the chase, likes the adrenaline of going after girls and trying to get them to fall for him, or sleep with him, or whatever. It's all the same to him.

You sigh again as you check your phone, hoping for a reply but knowing he won't text back. It's a Friday night and he's probably at some party. You go through your texts and open the conversation with your best friend.

jihyo: see u later! im picking u up so u better be ready >:(

You can't help but laugh at her insistence. Jihyo knows what you're going through since you tell her everything. You tell her you don't care though, that you're not looking for a relationship right now and your "thing" with Jungkook is just casual. But you know she sees right through your lies. It's even more obvious when you ghost all your friends and lock yourself in your apartment every night. She's trying to make you forget and move on and have some actual fun so you indulge her every time.

You get ready in less than an hour and actually put some effort into your appearance. You're not sure which party you're going to but you won't be surprised if Jungkook will be there as well. Maybe if you look hot enough he'll choose you tonight.

You hear a knock on your door and open it immediately, finding Jihyo laughing at something her boyfriend has just said. Most of the time you end up hanging out with her and Mingyu because she's always dragging you with her to keep you from being lonely. You don't mind it though because they're fun people to be with. Even though Mingyu is Jungkook's roommate and best friend. But Mingyu isn't anything like Jungkook. He looks at Jihyo like she's hung up the stars and moon. Loves her with all his heart and doesn't leave her second guessing. You always wonder why him and Jungkook are friends when they're so different.

Jihyo turns to smile at you, but it's still the lovestruck smile she gave Mingyu just seconds ago. You know you have the same kind of smile reserved for Jungkook. You wish you didn't but at the same time you're glad you do, like you have a part of yourself only Jungkook can see. Even though he doesn't do the same.

"You look so hot tonight!" she squeals as she pulls you in a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes, making eye contact with Mingyu as he nods his head in greeting. Jihyo steps back and grabs your hand, dragging you out your apartment so fast you barely have time to lock the door behind you. "Let's go before all the good drinks are gone."

It's a short but fun walk to the house where the party is being held. You find yourself laughing with Jihyo and Mingyu the whole time. They're the type of couple that doesn't make third wheeling a bore.

Loud music blares in your ears the moment you step inside. You feel your heels sticking to the floor. A typical frat house throwing a typical Friday night party. You immediately take shots with Jihyo and Mingyu. You need it to be able to survive the night since you already feel yourself tensing up at the possibility of Jungkook being in the same place as you.

You spot your other friends and hangout with them for the rest of the night. It's when you're playing beer pong with Jimin as your partner do you see Jungkook at the other side of the room. He's talking to some girl which is nothing new. It shouldn't phase you but it does. You thought you were going to be his pick for the night since he texted you a while ago.

You feel your heart fall at the sight of them, your chest physically hurting that you make Jimin throw the ball twice for the both of you since you can't focus. You feel all the fun and happiness slowly leave your body. You feel your stomach churn at the way he's got her trapped against the wall, tattooed arm placed beside her head, mouth whispering right against her ear. She's smiling and giggling at whatever Jungkook is telling her. You wish that were you.

"Forget about him," Jimin mutters in your ear. He's watching your beer pong opponents take their turn as you're watching Jungkook and the girl.

You shake your head at Jimin, turning your head to smile at him just to make it seem like you're okay. Just like Jihyo, he sees right through you.

Jimin's another close friend of Jungkook. They're not so different. Jimin likes to sleep around but he makes it clear that he doesn't want anything serious. Always nice and gentle with the girls he sleeps with. Jungkook makes it seem like you're his and only his. You wonder again why they're friends.

"Seriously, Y/N," Jimin says, a little bit of urgency in his tone. It's probably the look of longing on your face that raises concern in your friend. Everyone sees how broken you look when you catch Jungkook with another girl.

"I know," you say after a while. You talk just a little bit loud enough to be heard over the music. "Jungkook and I just sleep with each other. It's casual and that's it."

You hear Jimin sigh. He nods his head and it's his turn to throw the dirty ping pong ball. You've had this conversation with him and Jihyo numerous times already, sometimes it's the both of them and sometimes it's on separate occasions. You say the same thing every time. You think your friends are starting to give up on you. Maybe you should as well.

You force yourself to have fun for the rest of the night, always trying to be in a room where Jungkook isn't. You're not sure if he's spotted you. You don't know which hurts more—him not spotting you because he doesn't even bother looking for you in the crowd, or him spotting you but not talking to you because you're not his choice for the night. Either way, he doesn't care. You know he doesn't but you wish you did. You thought you'd catch his attention with the black dress you're wearing. Or with the way your hair is styled. But it doesn't work and you tell yourself that it's okay. You always see him in your peripheral though, either talking to someone or flirting with that girl.

You decide to leave when you see Jungkook leaving as well, fingers tangled with the girl's. She looks like a giggling mess and you can't blame her. Everyone falls for Jungkook's charms. You try not to dwell on the fact that they're going to have sex.

It's Jimin who walks you home. He can tell you're sad so he talks about his day and his classes, avoiding Jungkook's name even though you're positive that they hung out today. Jungkook's intertwined in so many people's lives it's hard to leave him out. But Jimin makes an effort just to distract you. You're grateful for it though and he keeps up the act all the way to your apartment. He asks if he can use your bathroom and you say yes, mindlessly changing into your pajamas once the bathroom door closes behind you. You thought you'd have a little bit more time to finish changing but you suddenly hear Jimin swear behind you. You live in a little studio apartment so there's not much room to hide.

"Oh fuck— Shit," he says. You turn around laughing to see him with his hand over his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbles.

You're in your underwear but you don't mind. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before," you chuckle.

"Still," he reasons.

Because you're stupid and heartbroken and hurt, you walk up to Jimin and gently grab his wrist, bringing his arm down to his side. You look at him looking at anywhere else but you. Eventually he looks down at your body for a split second and you laugh at him.

"We shouldn't," he whispers.

You shrug your shoulders. "Just a little bit of fun, right?" you ask with a smile on your face. "Like old times?" you giggle.

Jimin lets out a scoff but it's more of a laugh. Like he can't believe you're both doing this again. "You sure you're not drunk?" he asks as he makes eye contact with you. Bingo. You got him.

"Nope," you say sweetly.

"But Jungkook?"

You roll your eyes to mask the hurt. "Don't care."

Jimin looks at you intently to make sure you're not bluffing. While you wait for his answer you unclasp your bra and let it fall down your shoulders, exposing yourself to him. His eyes widen at the sight.

"Okay," he breathes out. He suddenly holds you by the waist to place you on the kitchen counter. It has you giggling at him.

"Eager?" you ask when he starts kissing your neck. You feel him drag his teeth across your skin, like he's thinking if he should mark you up or not. You stretch your neck out even more and feel him biting at your skin, sure to leave a bruise.

"Just excited," he mumbles against your neck. You feel him smile.

You unzip his pants while he's busy sucking your nipples. He's hard already when you start pumping your hand up and down his cock.

"Feels good, baby," he moans in your ear. You're still wearing your underwear but Jimin doesn't mind, just pushes it to the side to insert two of his fingers inside your pussy.

"Oh," you choke out. He finds your spot right away and rubs his fingers against it. He doesn't make you come, just fingers you to make sure you're prepped. It's quick when he takes his fingers out and grabs the condom in the back pocket of his jeans. You watch him tear the packet open and roll the condom down his length.

You both don't say anything else as he pushes his cock past your tight walls. Doesn't give you a moment before he starts pounding, his skin slapping against yours.

It's always like this with Jimin—just quick and easy and no feelings attached. You both don't do it much, it happens at the most random times. Usually when you want to forget or when he's stressed from school. And after this you're both back to being friends. It's never awkward. You wish it were like this with Jungkook instead.

"Jimin," you moan when he starts rubbing your clit. "Gonna come."

"Go ahead, baby," he breathes out, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and leaving his lips there. You push yourself to release and Jimin follows right after. You're both breathing heavily when he pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the bin. He zips up his pants and starts looking for something on your bed. You're still trying to catch your breath when you feel a shirt being put over your head. Jimin's sweet like this—does aftercare in the most platonic way possible.

"There," he says after helping you wear the shirt he found. He doesn't know it belongs to Jungkook. You don't think he minds if he does though.

"Thank you," you say quietly and give him a small smile.

"Anytime. I'll see you around, okay?" He kisses your forehead and you watch him leave your apartment.

The silence engulfs you and you think you should feel disgusted with yourself—that you're pining over a guy but you just had sex with another. With his close friend out of all people. But you push the thought to the back of your mind as you jump down from the kitchen counter and walk into your bathroom. You're just like Jungkook, you tell yourself. Just casually sleeping around and nothing else. He doesn't care and you don't either. You feel a teeny bit better.

You take a warm shower to wash all the remnants from tonight. You actually take your time just to clear your jumbled up mind. It's almost 30 minutes later when you step out and check your phone while you're drying off, heartbeat stopping at a text you've received almost an hour ago.

jk: u up?

jk: hey reply to me :(

jk: coming over

Your eyes widen at the last text. It was sent just 10 minutes ago. You don't know where he's coming from but the campus isn't that big so he'll probably be here soon. You quickly finish drying off and change into comfortable clothes. You hear a knock on the door the moment you finish changing. You take a deep breath before walking to the door and opening it.

You notice Jungkook's wearing the same clothes from the party but his shirt is a bit wrinkled. You think he just came from the girl's place. Probably fucked her and is here now because he's not satisfied. You should feel disgusted and mad but you're not. You're no better. You just slept with his friend.

"Hi," you mutter.

He smiles at you and leans in to kiss you on the lips. "Hey, sweetheart." It has you swooning.

You step to the side to let him in and he walks straight to your bed, sitting down to take off his shoes before lying down comfortably. You follow him and sit down on your bed right by his waist. He stretches out his arm to drape it over your thighs and you start tracing his tattoos absentmindedly. This is your usual routine.

"Did you stay in all night?" he asks. Just a little bit of conversation before he does what he's really here for. At least he has a little bit of decency. You don't mind though, it makes you think that he cares about you when he asks things like this.

You shake your head and smile at him. "Nah, Jihyo and Mingyu dragged me to that frat party." You can tell he's trying to hide his surprise.

"Oh, I didn't see you there," he mumbles.

"It's okay." You shrug. "There were a lot of people."

"We could've played beer pong together, I know you like doing that every time you're out."

Your heart clenches at his remark. You're surprised and hurt every time he remembers little things about you. "I was with Jimin, don't worry." Jungkook doesn't know the double meaning to it.

He nods and runs his fingers across your thighs. "Missed you. Sorry I didn't reply to your text earlier, got caught up in something." You know that's a lie. "Just got back from the party too, that's why I came here late." Another lie.

You nod and smile as if you believe him. And you force yourself to because it's easier than knowing the truth. It's silent for a moment before he mumbles c'mere and brings you on top of his lap.

"Missed this," he says quietly as he squeezes your thighs. His hands trail up your waist till he's squeezing your tits beneath the shirt you're wearing. You start grinding on his cock, getting out of breath too quickly. You missed this too. It's been a week since you last had sex with Jungkook which is a long time for the both of you.

"Kook," you pant. He's pinching your nipples knowing that's where you're most sensitive.

"I know, sweetheart. Take your shirt off for me, hm?"

You nod your head dumbly and do as you're told, watching Jungkook stare at your body. He stops moving beneath you and you're about to ask what's wrong when he brings his hand up to touch the hickey on your neck that Jimin left.

"Who's this from?" he asks. You can't tell if he's mad or just curious. Jungkook isn't showing any emotions on his face and you're starting to get nervous.

"Just..." You think if you should tell him the truth. You look into his eyes and try to see if there's any semblance of care. You don't know. You really can't tell. Then your eyes trails down his body, to his neck and the wrinkly white shirt he's wearing. There's a red stain on the collar and you know it's lipstick. From the girl he slept with earlier. "Someone," you finally mumble.

"Someone?" He continues rubbing the spot gently until he presses down on it with his thumb. He doesn't press down too hard, but it's with enough force to have you hissing slightly.

"It's from Jimin," you finally say. He doesn't say anything but raise an eyebrow at your reply. You don't know if he already knows that you and Jimin have slept together. He doesn't look so surprised, or maybe he is and he's just really good at schooling his expressions.

He makes eye contact with you again and you feel his hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair to press your lips against his. The kiss feels urgent and rushed, his tongue instantly slipping in your mouth and tangling with yours. You're on top of him yet you feel defenseless as he holds you by your hair and kisses you hard. You let Jungkook do as he pleases and forget about the little conversation you just had. You start grinding on his cock again and he reciprocates this time, hips moving against yours.

Before you know it, he rolls you over and pins your arms above your head. You stare at him with wide eyes and he smirks at you in return. He holds your wrists with one hand and takes off your shorts and underwear with the other. He's fully dressed while you're not and you know you're at his mercy. He knows this too as he spreads your thighs apart with his hand.

"Keep your hands there," he whispers. You hold your bed frame for good measure. You just want to please him. He trails kisses down your body, from your neck to your nipples to your tummy. He stops by your thighs and you feel his breath against your skin. You squirm beneath Jungkook to get him to do something, to touch you and pleasure you. He shakes his head, still with that damn smirk on his face. He starts kissing your thighs, close to your pussy just to tease you.

"Didn't know you and Jimin have a thing going on," he says against your skin. You shiver at the vibrations his voice provides.

You feel Jungkook bite down on your inner thighs. "We don't," you choke out. He scoffs and starts kissing your pussy. Just light kisses that start making you crazy because you just want his mouth on you. "We're just friends," you say weakly.

He looks up from where he's laying between your legs. "Like us?"

Us.

You know what he means but at the same time you don't. You're friends with Jimin like you're friends with Jungkook. But you don't long for Jimin like you do for Jungkook. You don't yearn for Jimin the same way, don't look for him in every place you're at, don't pine for his affection or his touches. Jimin isn't like Jungkook and you both know that. You just don't know if you're different from the other girls Jungkook fucks.

"No," you say truthfully. It's said with defeat and desperation because you know he's not going to touch you till you answer him. "Not like us."

You know Jungkook won't pry anymore because he finally starts licking your pussy, starting with your outer lips until his tongue is inside your hole licking every crevice. Then he starts sucking your clit and that's when you truly lose it, legs going around his head to keep him against your cunt.

"Fuck," you almost scream. You're so close already that you should feel embarrassed but you're not. Jungkook knows your body too well. No one holds a candle to how good he eats you out. "Please," you whimper.

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"Please make me come!" you beg. "Need it, need it so much." You starting grinding your hips against his mouth.

"You're so desperate," he chuckles. It's said meanly but the comment flies over your head. You don't care anymore; you just want some sort of release. "But not yet."

You suddenly feel cold because Jungkook removes his mouth from you, standing up and getting out of the bed to remove his clothing. You continue holding the bed frame above you because you want to be good for him. You watch him strip his clothes off till he's naked just like you, tattooed hand wrapping around his cock.

It's long and thick and it splits you open every time he fucks you. You really don't know how you manage to take him every time.

Jungkook is so mean and unfair with the way he's teasing you right now, pleasuring himself while you lay on the bed. You're about to open your mouth to complain when he finally nods his head, motioning you to get up. "Kneel. Hands behind your back, okay?"

You nod your head and get in position on the bed, head tilting up to look at his cock. It's so hard and the tip is already leaking. You just want your mouth around him.

"Open," he says.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, just the way Jungkook likes. As expected, he spits directly into your mouth and you swallow right away.

"Good girl. Now suck."

He brings his cock to your lips and you immediately start sucking. You push your length all the way in till you feel him at the back of your throat.

"Gotta take all of me in, pretty. Or else I won't fuck your little pussy."

You know Jungkook takes his threats seriously so you back up a little to catch your breath before taking him in your mouth again. God, he's so big and thick your jaw is already starting to feel sore. But you power through and keep taking him in your mouth until your nose touches his tummy. You try not to gag around him but it's no use. You also feels your eyes tearing up.

Jungkook doesn't care you're struggling. In fact, he loves it because he's got that stupidly handsome smile on his face. He strokes your cheeks for a while and you try to even out your breathing.

"I wanna fuck your throat, sweetheart. Can you take it?" he asks sweetly.

You know it's a rhetorical question but you nod anyways, as much as you could with a dick down your throat.

"Let me in then."

You close your eyes and relax your throat even more. Jungkook holds your head then and pushes you towards him even deeper. You're helpless since your hands are behind your back. You gag again and start feeling lightheaded.

"There we go," he finally says once his whole length is in your mouth. You feel the tip down your throat. You're struggling so much but you try not to move. You just want to please him. "Gonna move now," he mumbles and starts moving his hips. You let him fuck your throat for God knows how long. You're full on crying when he stops and withdraws his length halfway out your mouth. You take the time to gasp for air and you even cough a little, head bowing down to regain your breathing. You faintly hear Jungkook laugh above you.

"I'm not yet done, love. Was just feeling nice enough to give you a little breather."

You nod your head and look up at him, mouth opening wide to let him know you're ready again.

"You just let me do whatever I want, huh?" he chuckles. You're not sure if he means something else but to you it does. You willingly let Jungkook do anything to you. Even if it results in heartbreak.

He stares at you for a while and spreads the spit and precum that's on your lips. "So messy." Then he's back to inserting his length inside your mouth. The glide is smoother this time since you're already prepped. "There we go," he groans out. He stays still and feels the imprint of his dick on your throat. "Look so pretty for me."

Jungkook starts moving again but thankfully his pace is slow this time. You're sure you'll have a sore throat by tomorrow.

"Keep your eyes open, okay? Wanna see you cry."

You look at him while he's fucking your mouth, looking at the way his cock moves in your throat. You're starting to lose your breath and you think Jungkook could tell as well because he grants you reprieve and steps back. You're coughing more this time, hands catching yourself in front of you. You barely get enough time to regain your breathing before you feel Jungkook grabbing your head and bringing your lips to his.

"Did so good for me," he says against your mouth.

You're trembling in his hold and you grab his arms to steady yourself. "Fuck me please," you try to say but your voice comes out hoarse and ragged.

He kisses your cheek and then your jaw. "I will, don't worry," he coos. "Always gonna give you what you want." Another lie. You know that's not true.

You're putty in his hands as he maneuvers you to the position he wants to fuck you in, which is on your hands and knees with your ass high in the air.

"Just like that," he whispers. He pushes down on your shoulders even more so that you're wide and open for him. He starts rubbing your pussy and you can't help but moan out loud. "You're so wet, sweetheart. All from sucking my cock?"

You nod wordlessly from your position on the bed. "Jungkook!" you scream as he plunges two fingers in your pussy. He's ruthless as he fucks his fingers fast and hard, hitting your g-spot right away. "Please," you cry out. You're so wound up and tense and you just want to come already but he won't let you.

You hear Jungkook chuckle from behind you. "Still so tight, baby. Thought Jimin stretched you out already." You're about to reply but you feel his thumb press against your rim and your senses go haywire, mind going blank because you're so overwhelmed.

"Please, please," you beg quietly. You're crying again and you'd do anything at this point to get Jungkook to fuck you. He withdraws his fingers from your holes and you hear the crinkling of plastic behind you. You turn your head slightly to see him slipping a condom on. Jungkook has never fucked you raw and you never asked why because you already know the answer. You'll get hurt hearing the truth anyway.

He holds your hips to steady you. He rubs the head of his cock up and down your folds. "You want this?" he asks roughly.

"Yes. Please."

Finally, finally, Jungkook pushes his cock in your pussy. It doesn't take long because you're so wet he slides right in to the hilt.

"You feel so good around me." He stills for a moment and you grab your ass to spread your cheeks even more.

"Please move, Kook."

You hear him groan. "God, baby, you're filthy." He starts fucking into you and your mind goes blank. You feel his thick cock slide in and out, the tip already kissing your cervix.

"Feels so good," you mumble incoherently. Jungkook fucks you quick and hard, holding your hips so tightly you know it's going to bruise. You feel his balls slap against your clit which adds even more pleasure. You feel yourself getting close again and arch your back.

"Can I please come?" you ask through your moans. "Please let me come, Jungkook. Please—"

"Come," he finally says. It's the only word you need to hear before you let go, that coil in you snapping and bringing pleasure all over your body. You don't know you're moaning so loudly you're almost screaming. You feel your pussy just gush and it gets so wet and sticky you're surprised Jungkook doesn't slip out. It's so filthy that you hear squelching noises as well. Your orgasm goes on for so long you don't know how you're still holding yourself up.

"You creamed my cock so much, baby," Jungkook says. He slows down his pace but he's still moving so you can ride out your high. "Got me wet and even your sheets."

You barely hear him and there's just a buzzing sound around your head. Your body feels so heavy and you just want to collapse but you arch your back even more for Jungkook.

He laughs. "Think I fucked you stupid." He increases his pace again and you just kneel there and take it. "Gonna make me fucking come," he growls as his hips snap against yours. "Fuck." He fucks you some more and you groan every time he hits your g-spot.

Suddenly, he pulls out so fast. "Don't move," he groans. You stay in place and watch him remove the condom off, hand going to stroke his cock as he brings himself to his release. You feel his come on you, right on your pussy and asshole. "Fuck, baby," he groans. You feel even stickier with his load on you. Then he bends down to kiss your neck, and then your cheek, and then a gentle one on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks quietly. His arm goes to wrap around your waist and you slowly start sinking onto the bed.

"Mhm," you mumble and try to keep your emotions at bay. You always feel so overwhelmed after sex with Jungkook. You let a few tears fall down your cheeks but it's the kind of tears of relief from an intense orgasm.

Jungkook presses his front against your back, not caring that his come is still on you. He starts kissing your face again then rubs his nose up and down your throat. "Just breathe, yeah?" he says quietly. You nod weakly against his hold and do just that. The both of you say nothing as you try to calm your racing heart.

You don't know how many minutes pass by until Jungkook stands up. You don't have the strength in you to move your position on the bed or ask where he's going. A few minutes later you feel a wet rag on your back. You let Jungkook clean you up while the both of you still don't say a thing. Then he's moving you on the bed again so your head is on the pillows and he's right behind you, lying down comfortably to be the big spoon. You feel him kissing your head.

"Sleep," he mumbles against your hair. With Jungkook holding you and with his steady breaths guiding yours, you fall asleep right away.

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

You don't know what time it is when you wake up but there's still sunlight peeking through your curtains so you suppose it's still morning. You turn to face the other side of the bed only to find it empty. You don't know what time Jungkook left, if he stayed the night or left the moment you fell asleep. You're used to it already but it doesn't mean you're not hurt. Your heart constricts at the empty space beside you. You move again to lay on your back and cover your face with yours hands, letting out shaky breaths while trying not to breakdown. God, maybe Jimin was right. Just forget about him.

But it's hard not to. It's hard to forget about him when you have sex constantly, when his touches are gentle but also rough. When he wants you to reply to his messages and when he wants you against his body. It's hard because he's friends with your friends. It's hard when he takes care of you after every intense orgasm. It's hard when he makes it seem like he wants you just as much as you want him.

[skzdarlings]

deleted scene ; sharing a bed with lee know

original sharing a bed one-shot with lee know.

author's note: this is incredibly random, but this is a deleted scene from the lee know instalment of the sharing a bed series. it got cut when i decided to start the story after their big fight rather than show the build-up, but this scene was really cute and i always missed it lol so i am randomly posting it now.

content info: just fluff, some reader crying, and minho being secretly whipped.

word count: 890 words.

-

“Oh no!” 

Minho looks at you over the top rim of his glasses, his mouth full of food.  His phone falls forgotten on the wooden table.

Pouting, you push your salad towards him. 

“They put in the red onion,” you say with more misery than a salad miscommunication warrants.  Much to your horror and his immense bemusement, tears fill your eyes.  “I said no onion.” 

He chokes on his food, trying to swallow quickly so he can talk.  You wipe a stray tear while he hacks into a napkin.  His own eyes are now watery from his spontaneous pork-induced brush with death, but he reaches across the picnic table to wipe your face first.  He’s Minho so it’s more of a gentle slap on each cheek, but you take it with gratitude. 

“It’s okay,” he says, firmly but carefully.  Your behaviour is probably confusing him as you are notoriously composed and pragmatic by nature, so red onion is the last thing he would expect you to cry about.   “Just ask for another one.”  

“I can’t,” you say with a wobbly bottom lip.  You shove the salad further away like a petulant child.  “The line is too long now.  We don’t have time to wait for our turn then wait for them to make a new one.  We have to be back on the highway in no less than twenty minutes or else we aren’t going to beat the rush, and if we don’t beat the rush then we could be late getting to the camp site, and then we could lose our reservation. And I can’t eat this salad because the onion is so strong that it overwhelms everything else.   It’s fine.”   

It’s fine.  It’s fine.  Just one more thing gone wrong this week.  You didn’t cry about the guy.  You didn’t cry about the job.   You are crying about the red onion.  It’s fine.  

Minho takes off his reading glasses as if looking at you directly will help him make sense of your nonsense.  He doesn’t say anything, just stares with his dark brows knit together.  Wisps of dyed blonde hair and their darker roots flutter under the circle of his backwards cap, a cool wind brushing over your picnic spot. 

Of course the weather sucks too.  You and your best friend finally have a shared weekend off and you decided to go camping, so of course it’s been overcast and grey for the whole drive so far. 

Of course the rest stop cafeteria put red onion in your salad. 

“Okay,” Minho says after a minute of just staring at you.  He mutely slides his plate toward you and takes your salad for himself.  When you try to protest, he threatens you with a plastic knife.   “Eat,” he says, pointing to the dish with the knife.  He digs into the salad without further commentary, returning his glasses to his face and picking up his phone to keep reading. 

You stare despondently at the dish for a moment.  Then that bottom lip wobbles more, and more, and more, then suddenly—

Minho drops his phone again, startled when you burst into tears.

“Ahh,” he says, reaching for you with both hands this time.  He tries to reach past your fingers to cup your face, but you are rubbing your eyes and also bouncing with your hiccups.   He eventually gets a semi-stable grip of your chin, thumb pressing hard to tug your face to his when you look away.   “Baby,” he says, “what the fuck?” 

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you say, still hiccupping.  “You just l-l-love me so mu-u-uch!”

“Um,” he says, frowning.  “Sorry.  Here.”  He swaps your plates back.  “I hate you.  Fucking bitch.  Eat your fucking onion salad.” 

You laugh in spite of yourself.  It coaxes you out of hiding, your tear-streaked face turning to his willingly. 

Minho can be loud and goofy, and he’s something of a lunatic around his guy friends, but you and him have always had a quiet, easy friendship.  You are the epitome of regimented and organized, not to mention the very definition of introverted, but he’s so easy-going that your flow as a duo has always been seamless.   You can sit together for hours in silence and not feel awkward once.  His presence alone brings you comfort.  He has seen many sides of you over the years.  Annoyed, happy, content, frustrated, disappointed.  You frown a lot.  You don’t tend to overreact. 

Bawling your eyes out is a new one. 

“I’m fine,” you say with a sigh. 

“Oh, well, if you’re fine,” he says dryly, picking up his phone and pretending to return to it. 

When you giggle, he smiles just that bit, putting the phone down again.  He is clearly out of his element as you seldom require active solace in any sense of the word, so he just sits there flexing his hand and staring at you. 

“Should I… kill them?” he asks uncertainly, pointing over his shoulder to the food stand. 

You laugh again, the sound still a bit shaky.   You shake your head. 

“Are you sure?” Minho asks.  “We could probably run them over on our way out.” 

“Thank you,” you say.  “I’m fine.  I guess I’m just a bit worked up.”

“Hmm.”  He switches your plates again, giving you his food.  “Try being worked down for a bit.” 

“Okay,” you say with a snort.  “I will. Thanks.”

He smiles a little smile, the kind reserved just for you. He looks satisfied he has done his job for now.

You can't help but smile back.

[byoldervine]

How To Always Have Writing Ideas…

For A New Story:

1. Keep a list. Any time you have one of those sudden bursts of inspiration in the middle of writing a separate story, don’t quit your current WIP or pretend you’ll ‘just remember it’, put it into a separate list. You can always go back to this later on

2. Writing prompts. Look them up, use random word generators, pick a random object you can see, whatever helps you come up with any idea at all. Write a few paragraphs. Can it evolve from there?

3. People watch. Go to a public place and make up backstories for the strangers you come across. That man in the hat is using it to hide his elf ears. That woman with the bright pink hair didn’t dye it, she’s secretly the main character of an anime trying to dodge all the tropes and cliches. That toddler is actually a guardian angel reincarnated to watch over their new baby sibling. What brings them to this place? Where did they come from? Where are they going next?

To Continue An Existing Story:

1. Act it out. Say the words aloud, act out what your characters are doing, get props or people to act off of if you need to. See what feels like the most natural progression of the moment

2. Coffee shop AU, or other substitutional one-shot. Good for establishing dynamics between two or more characters, or even just working out a lone character’s day-to-day. Just write a few paragraphs about your characters entering a coffee shop or similar appropriate establishment/ordinary location. What do they do? What do they order to eat/drink? What do they say to each other? How do they treat the staff and other customers? If all else fails, write what they do after they leave, as if it were an ordinary day for them

3. Rubber duck it. This is something programmers use to work out where they went wrong in their code, but I’ve found it can work for figuring out story stuff as well. What you do is get a rubber duck, or any other object of focus, and start explaining your problem to it out loud. In this case you can read your chapter to the duck, or even give it the full run-down of the plot so far. Warning; side effects may include getting frustrated that the problem was right in front of you and subsequently throwing the duck

For Both:

1. Writing graveyards. I talked a bit about them in a previous post, but writing graveyards are basically just the folder you store your deleted scenes in instead of yeeting them into the void. Reread those, see if they have anything you can recontextualise or repurpose

2. Combine ideas. My WIP Byoldervine is a combination of two separate plots I had that I realised I’d be able to combine - twice. I first realised I could put together my ‘angel and demon heroes protecting humans from a war between heaven and hell’ story and my ‘quest through the fantasy realm to find the ingredients to a cure for a dying god’ story into the same universe as two sides of the same story as a duology. Then I realised I could just remove a few characters, tweak a few plot points and mash them completely together into one book. Combining them works wonders and minimises worldbuilding

3. Go out with friends or family. I guarantee that the one time you’ll be flooded with inspiration is when you don’t have an opportunity to write it down