#like I just wanted to give him a cup of hot chocolate and smother him with weighted blankets until he felt better again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shoutogepi · 4 years

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Pink Handcuffs

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.7k

[ ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰!), ☀︎ ] smut

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : switch!shouto, power play, bondage (cuffs), temperature play + food play, teasing, 69, begging, praise, baby/master dynamics, squirting, and a little aftercare <3

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : The only time you can tame your pro hero boyfriend is when he’s bound beneath you in pink, fluffy, quirk-cancelling cuffs.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : sooo u guys always are requesting sub sho, and i finally delivered hehe. this is my first time participating in a Sewer collab, ty to the mods who have been so sweet & welcoming to me even tho i’m shy and don’t talk too much 🤍 also i’m so sorry this is late, my bf decided to take me on a surprise vday trip!

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i actually think white chocolate is the inferior chocolate but i wanted it to look like cummies bc that’s hot soo… yeah this is the only acceptable situation to eat such an abomination imo ☺️

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There was absolutely nothing wrong with the ravioli you ordered, nor the appetizer that preceded and the dessert that followed. If anything, each dish was divine in its own respect— as they should be, coming from perhaps the most exclusive, romantic restaurant in the city. Especially on an occasion like today. But the thing was, you didn’t harbor much of an appetite for such luxuries. Not when your boyfriend was casting heart eyes directly at you all night, not even batting an absurdly long eyelash at the longing gazes of the other restaurant-goers.

You were hungry, alright. Just… for something else.

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The leather of his loafers had been slowly rubbing against the exposed top of your foot throughout the meal, your heels not offering you much protection from his affectionate game of footsie. He had the nerve to reach across the linen tablecloth and lace your fingers with his, playing with them as he leaned in and allowed the flickering candlelight to wash his face with a romantic, warm glow. Ever the gentleman, he had offered you a spoonful of his risotto, and when you had returned the outstretched offering of your own meal, he locked eyes with you and allowed his tongue to wander out to caress the cutlery before he closed his lips around the silver, two-toned eyes glinting dangerously. You were sure your cheeks turned a temperature high enough to achieve the perfect sear of the wagyu on his plate.

It was criminal for him to be acting like this. To be giving you his undivided attention, to be looking at you as if you had hung the moon and all the stars. As if you were the moon and all the stars.

And for him to have shown up in such a devilishly handsome ensemble— a dark, charcoal suit with a crisp dress shirt, rolled up so that the lean muscle of his forearms was exposed to your ravenous eyes. The muted turquoise tie around his neck only made his left eye jump out at you, something he damn well knew you were defenseless against.

But it was that smirk that really got you going. That satisfied little curl to his perfect, pink lips. He knew what he was doing. He knew that he was going to be inside you in just a matter of time, however long it took for the pair of you to finish eating and get back to his apartment. And he thought he was going to ravish you as usual— and there was nothing wrong with that, really— you loved when he had his way with you. However, that wasn’t what was going to happen tonight. Tonight, he was yours, and he was going to be completely at your mercy.

So you let him have his fun at dinner. You let him fluster you and play with you, let him think he surely had the upper hand.

Because it would be that much more fun for you when he finally realized what he was in for…

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You sat on the edge of the cloth sectional, upright and on guard as you awaited Shouto to return from the bathroom. Half of you had expected to be pressed against the wall the second you entered the premises, smothered in a passionate kiss and his hands messing up your styled hair. Instead, he’d taken the time to pour you a drink and freshen up from dinner, promising to return in a moment before he disappeared down the hallway. Little did he know, he had given you the perfect opportunity to hide your surprise underneath one of the couch cushions— the fuzzy, pink pair of handcuffs completely concealed underneath one of the many pillows that littered the area.

The music from the sound bar across the room was low and pleasant, the melody soothing to your frayed nerves. Your fingers played with the tassels on the corner of the pillow behind you, busying yourself as you allowed another gulp of wine to coast down your throat. This would be your first time… taking charge, so to speak, in your relationship with Shouto.

The dynamic between you was equal back and forth in all other aspects except for your sexual relationship— although sometimes he managed to sneakily pay for more of your dates than you liked to admit. You were still getting your footing as a couple, still in that unbelievable, all-consuming honeymoon phase where the pair of you were so obsessed with each other that your heart felt like bursting whenever his lips pressed against yours. So, taking this step— leap, rather— was quite a bold move.

Shouto returned from down the hallway, a gentle smile turning the corner of his lips upright. You could smell the cologne that wafted off of him as he moved to sit beside you on the couch, his arm naturally reaching out to lay behind your shoulders, allowing his warmth to spread and seep into your side.

“Would you like to watch something, love?” he inquired.

It was unfair of him to look that good while he was just asking you a simple question.

You fake-pondered the suggestion for a minute, entertaining him as the lust in his gaze only increased by the second. “Hmm… not really,” you replied honestly. “I kind of had something else in mind.”

He mirrored you as you tipped back the rest of your glass, setting the thin-stemmed crystal to the side. “Oh?”

His voice had dropped an octave, his eyelids drooping as you watched the salacious intent sharpen within his brilliant irises. It was almost too much, being the target of his desire— it made you forget for a moment that you were the one taking charge tonight. Only for a second, though.

“Yeah,” you whispered in the most wanton tone you could muster. You scooted closer to him, pressing up against his side fully, and placing your hand on his far shoulder. That took him by surprise, if the flicker of the emotion across his features was any indication. It was gone as soon as it came, but that was fine— you were just getting started, after all.

Shouto’s eyes met yours as your hand trailed up to cup his jaw, your heavy gazes locking just before your lips captured his. He was still for a moment, savoring the feel of your lips on his before he pulled you closer to him, his arm wrapping tight around the small of your back. It wasn’t long before the innocence of your initiation melted off, and his tongue greeted yours as you parted your lips for him. He tasted like the confection you had split for dessert, mixed with the tang from the wine you’d both just downed. His sweet tongue was a welcome flavor, brushing against yours as his hand moved to caress the back of your head. Time seemed to warp as you drowned each other in kisses, and you found yourself almost losing track of your plans once again. But you forced yourself to remain conscious of the situation— managing to take off his shirt and tie, revealing his sculpted torso to you.

Knowing that Shouto was just as consumed with the kiss as you were, you took the opportunity to sneak the handcuffs from underneath the cushion, balancing them on the top of the sofa skillfully. He sighed as you let your fingers slide through his silky locks, his breath hot on your slick mouth before his lips covered yours once again. Then, you trailed your nails down his forearms, grasp tightening around his wrists and pressing them up beside his head. You peeked at him through low-lidded eyes, reassured when you saw his eyes were shut and brow scrunched— seeming to enjoy your little power play, completely oblivious. A thrill struck through you as you swiftly transferred his wrists to the awaiting fluffy cuffs, the telltale click too fast for him to realize what was happening, for both his hands were secured in the device in under a second.

Shouto stiffened, his body jerking as he tried to move his hands to your sides. His eyes snapped open, looking to you in confusion before he glanced at his wrists, the pure shock blooming on his face, plain as day. You moved in to kiss the soft skin on his throat, taking the chance his surprise gave you as the wheels began to turn once again in his brain. Once he seemed to recuperate, his jaw hung open as he tried to find the right words— any words, really. But your lips on his neck only slowed him further, your hands slipping up to rub at his chest while you continued your ministrations. He tried to say your name in admonishment, but you crawled onto his lap at that exact moment, and it turned out sounding more like a moan instead.

“What… what is this, love?” He finally managed to ask, his voice deliciously low and gravely, rumbling against your front as you shamelessly pressed your body against his. He tipped his head back as you sucked at the skin beneath his jaw, holding in another moan while he inspected the cuffs further. “Where did you manage to get these?”

He was, of course, referring to the restraints around his wrists. He was right to question it— the cuffs around his wrists were the very same ones he saw on the daily, thanks to his profession. They were of professional grade— high caliber, quirk-canceling cuffs— identical to the pair that laid in the pack of his hero suit in his bedroom closet. He tried to activate his ice just a little, but wasn’t surprised to find his powers did not answer his request.

You stirred your hips around his lap, causing his attention to return to you instantly. His gaze grew more desirous as he inspected you, your insides fluttering with a quiet relief that he seemed into the whole charade. “I have my ways~” you replied vaguely. There was no way in hell you were going to bring up how you had to beg your friend Bakugou for months on end to get your hands on a pair of these babies. You could tell him that later, when your sexy-time was over. Instead, you kissed him again, brushing his corded neck with your thumbs on either side, cradling his face the way you knew he loved so dearly.

Shouto dropped it immediately, not wanting to push it when you were grinding on top of his lap, taking the reins and smothering him with your soft, sweet lips. “They’re pink,” he managed to observe, his breath getting choppy as you stole all of it away.

It was true, the cuffs boasted a fuzzy, pink material around the insides so that the restraints wouldn’t be so harsh against his pretty skin. The color looked simply divine on him, a perfect mix between the two shades of his hair. You had hot-glued the plush cloth to the cuffs the other day, and while it seemed like a ratchet method, it was the only way you could get the damn things to stick.

“They are pink,” you confirmed, brushing your lips against his ear, your teeth gently scraping on the outer shell. “You wanna know what else is pink?”

His hips bucked and his strong thigh pressed against your core through your clothes, pleasure shooting through you at the sudden stimulation. He answered without hesitation, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

You smiled at his honesty, confidence leaking into your veins from his agile reply. “Ask me nicely, and I’ll consider showing you.”

His eyes rolled back as you pressed down harder onto his lap, his slacks now forming a rather tight looking tent at the front, which you took full advantage of rubbing yourself against. “Please show me, Y/n. Show me what else is pink baby, please, I want to see…”

There was no way you weren’t going to oblige after that, so you smirked to yourself and got off his lap, moving to stand before him. Shouto scooted forward slightly, his legs spreading to showcase the length trapped between them as his eyes burned into yours. You took your time fiddling with the back of your dress, sliding the zipper down and then carefully slipping the garment off your shoulders and down your hips.

“Fuck.”

And there went the eloquence he was so renowned for.

Shouto’s tongue wandered across the bottom of his teeth as his eyes flicked up and down your body, taking in how the pink lingerie clung to every dip and curve on your body. The pure lust on his face made another wave of confidence surge through you, and you turned as you stepped out of the dress, making sure to shake your ass for him a little as you bent over.

“Get over here and take these off.”

You looked back at him, a mix of amused and aroused at his sudden change of inflection. He didn’t sound all that complacent now, his voice deep and demanding— the one that you were accustomed to whispering nasty things into your ear while he rearranged your guts.

“I don’t think so, baby.”

His brow rose the quickest you’d ever seen, the surprise evident on his face yet again. “Excuse me?” he balked.

You stood upright and turned to face him, unapologetic and unafraid as you stalked closer to his sitting form. Spreading your legs so that you were straddling him, you leaned into him, your face was right in front of his as you whispered, “I said, I don’t think so, baby.”

If he tried to stop the shiver that coursed through his body, it didn’t work. His eyes closed and he inhaled sharply as you rubbed yourself against his lap, your cunt dampening the lace that separated your core from his slacks. Your hands crawled down his torso, taking your time to knead the taut muscles that lined his front. When you reached the top of his slacks, you smirked and thumbed over the well-kept trail of red and white that disappeared underneath. You helped him maneuver so that he was rid of the luxurious clothing, leaving him only in a pair of boxer briefs that looked rather tight at the moment. His cock was visible through the dark material, a long and thick temptation to stray from your agenda.

“One sec,” you nearly giggled as you ran over to the kitchen, taking the bowl you had prepared when he was in the bedroom earlier from the microwave.

Shouto watched you from the couch, still trying to devise a plan to get out of his restraints and take his revenge on you. But that all slipped away the moment you returned and stooped to your knees in between his legs, and he could see what the contents of the bowl in your hands was, exactly. It looked like… milk?

As if you could read his mind, you drizzled some of the melted liquid off the spoon and onto your finger, offering him a taste. Like he had done in the restaurant, he made sure to keep your gaze as his tongue curled around your finger, lips closing and sucking the food in question off. His eyes lit up at the distinct sweetness, his mouth following your digit slightly as you pulled it back.

White chocolate.

You laughed to yourself, happy that he seemed interested— his cock jerking against his thigh when you took a spoonful and began to drizzle it over his chest. It was hot, the chocolate molten so that you had to trace over the lines you made swiftly with your tongue, ensuring it didn’t harden and stick to his skin.

Shouto started moaning as you licked up and down his body, watching as your pink muscle trailed around his body, all the while avoiding the one area he really wanted you to pay attention to. A dark spot had started to form at the tip of his cock, and he was painfully hard.

You suckled at one of his nipples, a spot which you knew he was especially sensitive to. He groaned as his head fell back against the cushions, rutting up against you with measured precision. It was hot having him under your complete control, having him squirm and moan beneath you, desperate for your touch. You were sure your panties were drenched by now, there was no way you weren’t with the way he was looking up at you.

Finally you moved your attention to his thighs, his ass moving off the couch instantly as your fingers curled into his underwear, dragging them down his legs and depositing them onto the floor. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock, looking full and beckoning. The fucsia tip was engorged and shining with precum, evidence of his arousal that glistened in the low lighting and left a thin path down the length of him. The cool air of the room must have felt intense for him, for his length reached forward on its own, begging for your touch.

Shouto said your name lowly, gravel in his voice as he watched you eye his cock. He damn well knew that you were thinking about how good it would feel to just slip your panties to the side and press him inside of you, how amazing it would be to have him stretching your cunt with his cock. He was sure that he would slip right in, too— he didn’t have any doubt that you were wet from teasing him like this.

You kept his gaze as you spooned around the outline of his flushed member, from one thigh to the other, along the bottom of his abs and over his prominent V. The fire in his eyes only ignited further as he watched your tongue move across his skin, the white liquid pooling against the muscle and gathering in your mouth. His cock strained as it tried to reach for you, wanting for you to milk its own white liquid from it instead of the melted chocolate. Then, you were climbing onto his lap again, offering the melted candy to him while you gripped his shoulders.

His tongue met yours with enthusiasm, sweeping off the chocolate and collecting it into his mouth. You moaned as he eagerly took the liquid from you, taking his time afterwards so that his tongue mingled with yours, enrapturing you in another kiss. Once again his hips jerked up against you, his cock dragging across your clit through your lingerie. You tried to scowl at him, but it felt too good and you ended up letting out a soft mewl instead.

Shouto looked pleased as the noise slithered out of you, his arms straining to reach for you but the cuffs stopping him from doing so. He growled at the restraints, the short chain clinking as he fought against it futilely. “Y/n, please,” he huffed, irritated. “Just take these off and I’ll reward you.”

Shaking your head, you gyrated across his lap again, eliciting a groan from him. “What if I just take the reward for myself?” you purred, getting up and pushing him down to lay back onto the couch.

He was about to object when you slipped your panties down your thighs. Voice caught in his throat, he watched a strand of slick stretch between them and your cunt before he shut his mouth and leaned back, complacent. He seemed to understand what you wanted, keeping his arms still above his head as you slipped your legs between them, then planting your knees beside his neck. He clicked his tongue at your demand, but he didn’t wait long before he split your folds with it instead.

You could feel him smirk against your cunt when you moaned, the direct stimulation strong enough to make your toes curl already. The position allowed him to cup your ass with his hands, fingers digging into your plush flesh as he moved the skilled muscle to trace along your clit. He switched between kissing the bundle of nerves and sucking on it, savoring the way your legs began to shake on either side of his head.

All the while, you busied yourself with kissing down his chest, slowly getting closer and closer to his cock that was leaking onto his toned stomach. You didn’t bother with the chocolate any more, and you didn’t care to tease him either— you wrapped your hand around him and took the head into your mouth, moaning as your lips pulled tight around him.

“God— so good, baby” Shouto gasped, throbbing in your hand as his fingernails dented the skin on your ass. He moaned into your pussy, pushing his tongue inside your entrance and moving it feverishly against your velvet walls. His hips drove up and you gagged around his cock, which only made him pull your body tighter against his face, working harder against your cunt. The pre helped him slide into your throat easier, your spit beginning to drip down his length as you struggled to pace yourself, head bobbing as best you could.

He continued to slurp at your entrance vigorously, even with the restraints making it hard for him to hold onto you. You could feel his smooth hair tickling the insides of your thighs as your hips swung back and forth over his mouth, your fingers cutting shallow grooves into his thighs as you slid his length along your tongue.

“Fuck, just like that,” you paused, saliva shining on your lips as you glanced down at Shouto, his tongue rubbing at your clit with steady licks. You took a moment to enjoy the view, his chiseled jaw protruding as he ravaged your sex, having abandoned any defiance he previously harbored. You luxuriated in another minute of his sensual efforts before you moved your hips back, carefully taking your legs out from between his arms and moving so that Shouto was sat upright, and you were hovering over his lap again.

A silvery sheen covered the bottom half of Shouto’s face, his eyes blazing into yours as he wiped his chin with the back of his cuffed hand, then licking his lips. Even if you were the one in charge here, he knew how to rile you up, and he certainly knew how to deliver as well. You just didn’t expect for him to try to fluster you.

“Did that feel good, Master?”

You sputtered at the sudden title, eyes wide and body still while you lingered above his lap, his hard cock grazing your slick thighs. Your mouth hung open as you tried to formulate words, the shock evident on your face. “I—”

Shouto seemed charmed by your lack of response, your brain still buffering as you tried to process what he had just called you. He raised his cuffs over his head, settling into the couch while he thought he had managed to snag the upper hand from you.

Like hell you were going to pass him the reins.

“That felt so good, baby,” you purred, enjoying the shock that suddenly appeared in his vibrant irises. You dragged your hand down his chest, fingertips bumping over one of his rose-colored nipples. “You’re such a good boy for me.”

His cock smacked against your thigh, your eyes glinting down at him as his body betrayed him in his fleeting attempt to hide his response to your praise. Suddenly the mischievous look in his gaze had dissipated, melting into longing instead. He seemed confused by the sudden change of emotion, but you didn’t give him long to contemplate it— you lightly drew your nails down his abdomen and grasped his cock, a startled noise sounding from his throat. Tracing the swollen head against your slit, you doused him with your arousal, teasing the pair of you as you dipped the tip just barely inside before rearing back. You half expected him to thrust up and sheathe himself inside of you, but he only laid there beneath you, watching your core glide against his length in assent. His legs twitched with the urge to feel your silky cunt around him, but he remained still, athletic thighs strained while his hips wiggled just barely. His eyes widened as you turned around, presenting your bare ass to his gaze and allowing your cunt to part, dragging it along the vein on the underside of his erection.

“Aha—” he sucked a breath in through his grating teeth, brow furrowed and gaze focused on where your bodies connected on his lap. “Please Y/n…”

You looked over your shoulder at him, catching how his pupils were dark and full of lust. There was nothing you wanted more than to stuff him inside you already, but you had to hear him utter it one more time before you allowed the both of you to sink into pleasure. “Please, what, Shouto?”

His gaze lifted from his lap to meet your eyes, full of desire. He whispered, this time much more shameful than the last, “Please sit on my cock… Master.”

You smirked, straightening your hips over his, arching your back, and sinking down onto his awaiting length. Impaling yourself with his cock always hurt at first, the girth of him stretching your sopping core like nothing else— no one else— could. It was impossible to stop yourself from crying out, agreement coming from Shouto in prefect harmony. The cuffs clinked as his hands flew down to grab your waist, awkwardly placing them on your lower back as he couldn’t grab you as he desired, thanks to the pink, fuzzy restraints.

“Good boy~” you moaned, ass jerking back to swing your hips down onto the tops of his solid thighs. There was a ridiculous amount of pleasure that coursed through you with each rut of your hips against his, beginning to find a rhythm as the lewd smacks interrupted the soft music humming from the other side of the room. His cock jumped in response to your praise, stretching to press into a spot nestled deep inside your gummy walls.

Shouto watched you shiver through hooded eyes, feeling your cunt clench down onto him as your hips pushed down to get his cock to press harder inside of you. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he groaned, head tossing back over the back of the sofa, a long moan following.

“Oh God,” you whimpered, knees pushing into the cushions so you could find an arch that allowed the very tip of him to relocate the same angle, again and again. Your slick started to drip down your thighs and onto the tops of his, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. You felt like your stomach was on fire with how turned on you were— having him at your complete mercy made your cunt tighten around him, lust clouding your head.

One of your hands moved behind you and planted on his abs to help leverage your weight as you bounced on his lap, the other hand sneaking between your legs to toy with your neglected clit. Shouto whined when your fingers touched the sensitive nub, your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter at the stimulation. It felt amazing to rub yourself with his cock plunging deep inside of you, your slick bountiful enough to spread across your clit and aid your efforts.

You kept up the pace, your thighs beginning to tremble as the pressure in your stomach continued to heighten. All the while, Shouto was moaning from beneath you, trying to hold his noises of content back, but failing each time. His large, rough hands trailed up and down your spine while you humped his lap, the metal of the cuffs a sharp contrast on your skin from the soft, pink cloth you fixed onto them.

“Slow down, love,” he choked out, the words heavy in his throat. There was no way he was going to last at the pace you were setting, not after you had handcuffed him, sucked him off, and started throwing your ass back onto his lap. You didn’t want to stop, but you knew that if you ignored his plea he was going to cum too soon. “Wait—” he whined when you got off his lap, standing up and turning around, letting him watch as you unhooked your bra.

You didn’t make him wait long, though. Your knees sank bank into the cushions on either side of him, but this time, your front was facing him. Shouto took in the sight of your naked chest gratefully, taking it upon himself to slip one of your nipples into his mouth. Guiding his wet cock back between your legs, you exhaled as you lowered yourself onto him again. Teeth grazed across your chest, your fingers winding through the short hairs at the back of his neck and carding through them. The new position allowed him to reach new depths when you fully sat on his lap, your toes curling at the edge of the cushion. You rolled your hips in slow and precise circles, grinding his length inside of you brazenly.

Leaning in so that your teeth could pinch at his bottom lip, you forced him to look up at you, savoring the fucked-out expression painted across his handsome features. “Fuck baby, your cock feels so good inside me,” you whispered, lips trailing across his cheek so that you could nip at his ear and test your newfound discovery another time. “You’re such a good boy, Shouto~”

Pure euphoria crashed through you as he bucked his hips up, slamming his cock balls-deep inside of you. You knew that you were supposed to be the dominant one right now, but it was impossible to keep the moan his action induced inside.

“Anything for you, Master,” he grunted, a sinful crackle in his tone as his tongue traced over your collar bone.

It didn’t help that his voice was so damn deliciously low— he was already sexy enough on his own. But when he had you all to himself, he stepped it up another level that none could ever imagine existed— the side of him that was devoted to your pleasure, the side of him that was dedicated to pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body until you were left boneless and breathless.

Shouto began to bounce you on his lap slightly, meeting you each time your hips fell down so that he could push entirely inside of you every time. You didn’t want to let him take over just yet, but his hips never seemed to tire, even now when yours began to tremble with exertion. That familiar pressure was back and building again, faster than last time in between your hips. Shouto was well aware of your declining energy, his hands cupping your breasts and thumbing over the hard buds on each one, the cuffs digging into your middle with each thrust.

“Take the cuffs off, Y/n,” he murmured, fingers twisting at your nipples gently. Then he started to suck a hickey into your cleavage, his cool breath making goosebumps appear on your skin.

“No,” you gasped as you dropped particularly hard onto his cock, silky inner walls spreading especially deep as his length pressed inside of you. “I can’t— have to make you feel good —agh, fuck!”

He flashed you a short smile, huffing as you continued your efforts on his lap. “I feel good when you feel good,” he replied, pinching at you harder, relishing the sweet moan that tumbled from your open mouth. “Please, I’ll behave, promise.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else from him, leaning back and swiping the key from underneath the book on the coffee table— where you had stashed it when you hid the cuffs in the first place. As soon as the cuffs were off, Shouto tossed them to the other side of the room, the pink restraints clattering as they landed somewhere on the floor. His hand immediately gripped your waist, fingers spreading out across your lower back, and tilting you back slightly while he leaned forward, thrusting up into you with fervor. The other hand made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling it so your throat was exposed with your head thrown back.

The sudden change in angle elicited a pathetic mewl from your chest, his cock hammering into your g-spot at such a pace that you were instantly brought to the brink of an orgasm. You clung onto his shoulders for dear life, his head buried in your neck while he sucked his mark into your skin, the wet, quick slaps of your fronts meeting repeatedly echoing through the apartment rhythmically.

“S’That feel good, Master?” His tongue trailed up your throat and he nibbled at your ear, just as you had done to him just minutes ago.

You could barely think, your cunt pulsing as you got closer and closer to cumming right around his cock, your fingernails digging into the thick muscles that lined his shoulders. “Y-Yes, fuck— so good— such a good boyyy~” you cried, tears gathering to dot along your lashline, your body overwhelmed with the ecstasy rushing through your entirety. “God, Shouto— I, I’m gonna—”

“Do it, love,” he ordered, hands dropping so that each cupped an ass cheek, spreading your legs even more so that each thrust was ensured to drive as deep inside of you as possible. He could feel your pussy clamping down on him, squeezing his cock hard enough that you must’ve been right on the edge, just needing that extra little push. “Please— ahh fuck, I— I want you to cum on my cock. Cum for me, Master.”

That was all it took for you to be creaming on his length, your body quivering in his hands as your cunt fluttered with bliss. It felt like the world was crumbling away and that Shouto and you were the only two people on the planet, like he was pouring oxygen into your veins just as you were about to run out of breath.

As you were still in the throes of your orgasm, Shouto maneuvered you so that your back was pressed up against the top of the coffee table in front of the couch, falling to his knees and throwing your shaking legs over his shoulders. The bowl of white chocolate and the magazines in the corner of the table fell down onto the hardwood floor, but neither of you were paying attention to the sound of the ruckus.

He began fucking you then, his hands clasping your thighs so that your body stayed close enough for him to slam his hips into yours without mercy. “Fuck Y/n, you’re so sexy, look at you, baby,” he hissed, taking a moment to examine your puffy cunt, spitting on it crudely before a thumb began to rub at your clit earnestly. “I’m your good boy, huh? See how good I fuck my Master?”

“Oh God— oh, fuck Shouto, yes! Don’t stop!” you exclaimed, and somehow, even though you were still cumming from before, another pressure started to build in your stomach, gathering faster than you could comprehend.

A heightened euphoria rushed through your nerves and tickled at the ends of your limbs, different from before. You whimpered when you realized what was happening, but by then it was too late to warn him— Shouto was pounding into you relentlessly, and his thumb steady on your clit only made your high arrive even faster. A strangled moan slipped out of you as clear liquid splashed across his abdomen, your body shivering and convulsing as it struggled to handle the pleasure he delivered to you. You had certainly orgasmed before, but this was as if the pleasure you had felt increased tenfold, leaving you truly wrecked and exhausted.

You were still squirting as you came to, and when you were finally able to look at him, you watched as he stroked his slick cock with ferocity. His eyes were focused on your soaked thighs before they closed and he groaned deeply, ribbons of white spurting past his hand and splattering across your breasts and stomach. His palm slapped onto the tabletop beside your waist while he hunched forward, out of breath as pleasure wracked through his fit body, the muscles that lined his torso heaving while his pink cock throbbed in his hand.

Your head fell back onto the table as you recuperated, shocked that he had just made you squirt all over him, and then he proceeded to cum at the sight, painting you white with his spend. Another minute passed and you were still trying to find your breath, coming down from your high, even though Shouto had already recovered from his.

A warm hand cupped the back of your neck, and you opened your eyes, realizing suddenly that you were secure in his arms, moving past the messy living room and down the hallway to his bedroom. His lips pressed against your forehead softly when he entered his room, your heart skipping a beat in your chest as you took in the dozens of lit candles that lined the walls and windows. It only continued when he turned into the ensuite, the bath filled with cloudy pink water, flower petals floating on the still surface and littering the surrounding tiles.

“Shouto— this is…” you tried to sit up in his arms, but he only held you tighter against his chest. There was a proud look that lingered in his eye, yet he only offered you a soft smile as you looked between him and your surroundings. No one had ever committed such a romantic act for you before, and you sure as hell hadn’t been expecting such a suave move from your boyfriend of a couple months.

So this is what he must’ve been doing when you had returned from dinner.

“There were bubbles, but someone distracted me and they must’ve popped while we were preoccupied,” he explained, fingers brushing a strand of hair to the side of your face.

“I— it’s perfect, baby,” you chirped as enthusiastically as you could, your body still drained from the exertion of two consecutive orgasms. “Thank you, I love it.”

He hummed as he shifted your weight to one arm, reaching out and activating his quirk to heat the water to the right temperature again. You sat in his arms, satiated and more content than ever as you surveyed his handsome face. Surely there would be hearts in your eyes, with how loved you felt in this moment.

Once he was satisfied with the warmth the water offered, he stepped into the tub, slowly submerging the two of you in the pleasant-scented bath. The warmth flooded into your tired bones, your body happy to be swaddled in his embrace as he held you close. You hummed as you rested your head against his chest, hand coming to rest beside your face.

“How’s the water? Just let me know and I’ll fix it to your liking… Master.”

You scoffed and slapped at his chest, the pink water splashing across his pale skin. He donned a genuine smile at the sound of your laughter, calloused fingers stroking down your spine. “Shut up,” you managed, cupping his neck and pressing a kiss to his throat to show your words held no real intent, “It’s perfect, I mean it. Thank you, Sho.”

Shouto’s smile remained, his eyes soft as his leg curled around one of yours beside the porcelain of the tub. “You deserve it,” he murmured, thumb swiping across your cheek to rid you of a water droplet that had splashed onto you from your attack. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

happi belated vday babes!! <3 once again, sorry it’s late~ I hope you all had a good one tho!! :3 love y’all <3 <3 <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 . 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Hello love! I agree it’s missing Frankie Morales hours all the time 😔

For a lil inspo if u want maybe a spontaneous day exploring the city with him, museums, parks, everything, just a soft romantic day with him🥰🥰

AN | I’ve missed him! So have some fall fluff!

Pairing | Frankie x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Frankie, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey,” you felt a gentle hand brush your hair out of your face as you made a small sound of protest and burrowed into your pillow. A warm, soft chuckle reached your ears, causing you to open one eye and peek at your intruder. Much to your heart’s delight, you found Frankie studying you intently, a soft smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. His dark locks were still wild from sleep; he looked as tired as you felt but he was already fully dressed, two steaming cups of coffee in travel mugs in his hands, “hi sleepyhead.”

“Francisco,” you grinned at him, suddenly feeling much more awake than a few moments ago. Sitting up, you wiped away the bleariness from your eyes as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “what are you doing up? It’s early...it’s Saturday.”

“I know,” he nodded, looking like he was about to burst due to excitement, “but I have a little something planned for us. So, I figured we could get a jump on the day.”

“You have something planned for us?” your eyes lit up with excitement before you practically jumped out of bed. You took the coffees out of his hand and set them on the nightstand before throwing your arms around Frankie and holding him close. You smothered the side of his face in kisses, placing a few extra ones to the little bald patches in his beard, “oh, Frankie. I love you so much, you’re the absolute best!”

“You don’t even know what I have planned,” he chuckled and as you shrugged lightly, “it could be something horrible.”

“Nothing could be horrible when it’s with you,” you insisted, causing him to pull you into his arms before he kissed again, his large hands going to your waist as he held tightly onto you. Sighing happily, you buried your face into his chest, inhaling his familiar, warm scent. You were half tempted to pull him back into bed, but you really wanted to know what he had up his sleeve as well, “now, Mr. Morales, tell me what you’re up to.”

“Now if I told you, that would just ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?” you pouted at him, causing him to beam at you. He gently put a hand on your cheek, which in turn only made you melt, “go and get dressed and we can head out on our adventure.”

“Adventure - now that sounds like something I can definitely get behind,” before he could get another word out, you clapped your hands excitedly before practically running past him and into the bathroom to quickly get ready. Whatever little adventure Frankie had planned was sure to be good.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re really going to make me coffee and get me my favorite pastries for breakfast, make me get into the car, but still not tell me where we’re going?” you nudged Frankie’s knee as he concentrated on the road in front of him. That didn’t stop the smile you could spy from spreading on his face. It was a crisp fall morning; the kind where everything felt fresh and renewed, the ushering in of a new season. It was your favorite time of year and you always tried to take advantage of everything it had to offer. This year however, Frankie seemed to get a head start.

“That would ruin the whole point of it being a surprise,” he took a drink of his coffee as you just laughed at him, taking a huge bite out of your pastry, making yourself comfortable as you settled in for wherever he was taking you.

After a period of comfortable silence, his hand found your thigh, his thumb tracing aimless shapes onto the fabric of your jeans. When you finished your hot chocolate, you became sleepy and decided to give in to the comforting lull of slumber, closing your eyes as you leaned back into the seat. Frankie hadn’t noticed at first until you made a few sounds in your sleep, stirring lightly. He grinned to himself, turning the radio up slightly as he softly sang along with the music. Even though it was still going to be a bit of a drive, he had a feeling you’d enjoy the little surprise he had in store.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Psst,” your eyes practically sprang open as Frankie gently shook your shoulder. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep now; rubbing your eyes and getting out a small yawn, you tried to figure out where you were, “you’re up just in time!”

“How long was I out for?” you were in a parking lot, with a sea of other cars all around you, people moving about excitedly. This had to be something good from the looks on everyone’s faces, “where are we?”

“Not too long,” he promised, “it was about an hour and a half, sleepyhead Bee.”

“Well you did have me up early on a weekend, so you can hardly blame me,” you stuck your tongue out at him, “now, what’s all this? Out with it, Morales.”

“Well, it is now officially fall, your favorite time of the year, so I figured what better way to bring in the start of the season than to go to the state’s biggest harvest fair?” Frankie could practically see the way your face lit up with each word. You always loved doing anything and everything fall-related and luckily Frankie had no problem indulging you. He not-so-secretly loved it just as much as you, “so here we are - you can get all the pumpkin things your heart desires...including pumpkins!”

“Francisco,” you grabbed his face and pulled him closer, kissing him gently as his cheeks tinged a dark pink, “you did all of this for me? You really didn’t have to…”

“I know,” he shrugged it off lightly, “but I wanted to. I mean if you don’t want to go in we can turn around and go home…”

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head, already moving to open your door and jump into the cool air, “this is the best - no, you’re the best. Now, come on, this place looks huge and we have to do all the things.”

“And we’ve got all the time in the world to do that,” he followed suit and got out of the truck, instinctively reaching for your hand. You practically skipped to his side as you slipped your hand in his, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“I hope you realize we’re going to be coming home with all the pumpkins?”

“Why do you think we took the truck?” Naturally Frankie knew better by now, after several autumns together, that you were going to go all out with the decorating and pumpkin carving. You only responded by swinging your arms and practically skipping towards the fair’s entrance.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frankie had picked the right fair; that was immediately evident to you when you noticed all the different things to do and see, including stalls that were selling all of your favorite treats. You made sure to go through and pet all the animals, insisting to Frankie that the two of you should get a goat, made it through the giant corn maze, and picked out a collection of pumpkins. There was plenty of cider consumed and all sorts of desserts, but the one you hadn’t expected was to find that there were rides at this fair.

You’d never been a particularly huge fan of them, but when you’d come across the ferris wheel, you couldn’t help but grow excited. Frankie immediately noticed how excited you became, bumping your hip with his, “wanna go on it?”

“Yes, and no,” you admitted sheepishly, “I like the idea of a ferris wheel but what if we get stuck at the top? Or it tips or...something?”

“Nothing will happen,” he insisted, trying to suppress a smile as you realized how silly your concerns were, “I promise I’ll keep you safe and sound. And if something does happen and we fall out, I’ll be your cushion.”

“How could I possibly say no to an offer like that?” you let him lead into the line, butterflies fluttering around your stomach; you were sure that it was a combination of nerves and Frankie. Even after all this time, he still made you feel like you were falling a little more in love everyday. You supposed you were; because no matter how much you loved him, there was always a little more to love everyday.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn’t long before you were seated and slowly moving towards the top of the wheel, your heart beating anxiously as you waited for something to go wrong. When it didn’t, you visibly relaxed as Frankie put his arm around you and pulled you in close to his warm body, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “this isn’t so bad, is it?”

“No,” you agreed softly, admiring the view and all the pretty glittering lights of the fair, “it’s never too bad when you’re around. Thank you for this, Frankie. I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, Bee,” he chuckled warmly as you rested your head on his shoulder, “that is one thing you’re never going to have to question.”

You took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his palm before lacing your fingers together when he cleared his throat, “my family was asking about you the other day - well, us…”

“Oh? What were they asking about?” your interest was piqued as you glanced at him, hoping it wasn’t anything too bad. You loved his family, and had always thought they loved you too, but of course, there was always just the smallest bit of doubt in your mind, “is everything okay?”

“Of course,” he quickly promised, “they were just asking if we wanted to go to theirs for Thanksgiving and then asked about Christmas plans…”

“We went to my family’s Thanksgiving last year, so we have to go to yours this year,” you reminded him, knowing you regularly alternated which group of family you went to, “but what about Christmas?”

“Well, Mama said they’d love to have us there on Christmas Eve on one condition…”

“Which is?”

“She said she finally wants us to get engaged,” your heart stopped for a moment at his words as your eyes grew wide. You pulled back and looked at him in surprise. He just laughed at the incredulous look on your face, “she said it’s been years and it’s about time we made it official and you know - the usual stuff.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“Not much,” you could tell he was trying to remain cool and collected, “but I told her I’d see what I can do.”

“Oh,” he touched your cheek as your face warmed up and your mind was spinning, “I-I umm...okay.”

“I’m not proposing,” he said after the worried look on your face, “don’t worry. When I do, its going to be something much more grand than this.”

“When?” your eyebrows shot up at this very carefully picked choice of words, “not if?”

“Of course when,” he insisted, “when I ask you’re not going to be expecting it at all. But I promise it’ll be good.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but grin at him, “well then...I look forward to your proposal, Mr. Morales. Almost as much as being your wife.”

“You won’t see it coming,” he seemed so sure of it, “trust me.”

“Sure….hey! Christmas is two and half months away!”

“And?”

“That’s so soon,” you suddenly realized.

“Exactly,” you hadn’t even realized that you’d come back down and it was time to set off the ride until he stood up and stretched, motioning for you to follow, “you won’t see it coming!”

“Fine,” you followed after him, the two of you laughing at each other, “I’ll accept that as a challenge. Game on.”

“Game on.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pedro Character Taglist (strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings. Strikethroughs will get removed if not taggable)

@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @dodgerandevans @cannedsoupsucks @april-showers-and-flowers @klaine-92 @softboiipascal @rpcvliz @im-an-adult-ish @dobbyjen @thevoiceinyourheadx @niki-xie @jediknight122 @xxlovingfandomsxx @mrpascals @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @ilikemymendarkandfictional @actual-spawn-of-satan @wanderlust69 @lazybeeches @beskarboobs @someday-when-you-leave-me @leaiorganas @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @madslorian @artsymaddie @haildoodles @windfallss @spookispunk @nikkixostan @edencherries @stillshelbs @djarinbarnes @alyispunk @ayamenimthiriel @gallowsjoker @its–fandom–darling @star017 @amneris21 @empress-palpat1ne @cable-kenobi @gooddaykate @princeofdorne @natthebattygeologist @riddikulus-obsessions @sleep-tight1 @mamacitapascal @14mcmd1122 @leaiorganas @hoodedbirdie @kenzieam @dobbyjen @jedi-mando @milkxxkookies @lazybeeches @general-latino @jediknight122 @cosmoschick @recklessworry @jaime1110 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @thatnerdwriter @bestintheparsec @pascalisthepunkest @kristeng42 @rosie-posie08 @this-is-the-wayy @thevoiceinyourheadx @mrlokis

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #tf #soft hours start now and end never 🥺

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cocochannel00 · 4 years

Text

Only Wish (This Year)

All Y/n wants for Christmas this year was Harry to be home... so what happens when Harry can’t make it? (a part of the ‘Christmas song fic challenge’)

Word count: 3k Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

A/N: hello my loves! This is my submission for @goldenbluesuit’s christmas fic challenge, Christmas is literally my favorite holiday of the year and I’m so happy I got a chance to do my first fic writing challenge based on the absolute bop that is Britney Spear’s “Only Wish (This Year)”. If you want to read more great Christmas fics by some amazing writers checkout the Christmas Song Masterlist Here and if you want to read and more of my writing check out My Masterlist Here. I hope you enjoy!!

"Love I think the tree looks a little crooked"

"No, it's not! It looks fine," you grumbled as you tried to fluff one of the branches that was limping to the left a bit. You had just gone out with Anne yesterday to the Christmas tree farm to get it. The two of you spent nearly two hours walking around the field looking for the perfect tree to put in the living room and after your fingers and toes had officially gone completely numb the two of you gave up and settled for the lanky one in the corner of the field that no one wanted. The tree towered over you quite a bit and had a bit of a tilt, but it reminded you a bit of Harry and this Christmas that was what you wanted, him.

"The reindeer you just hung up is about to fall off, Love" he mumbled from the screen of your computer as he face-timed you from the studio in LA. Rushing over to the left side of the tree, you scooped up the ornament quickly just as it was beginning to slide off of the scrawny branch you had placed it on earlier. As you less than gracefully began to pick yourself off the ground, you heard a wolf whistle come from your husband.

"On second thought, if you keep bending down like that I think I might actually like this tree" Harry stated with a smirk as you gave him the middle finger. "Your mom and I picked it out yesterday cause we thought it looked like you. A little lanky, a little scrawny... looks like he just rolled out of bed" you replied with a laugh.

"I'm going to spare my ego and pretend you didn't just compare your beautiful, loving, and supportive husband to that sad drooping tree you have in the corner."

"(Y/n) is that Harry you're talking to in there? Tell him he better be making it home for Christmas Eve dinner or I'm going to be having a stern talking with Jeff" Anne shouted from the kitchen where she was finishing up some cookies for when Gemma and Michal' today.

You could see the color drain from Harry's face as he scratched the back of his neck. You and Harry have been married now for a little over a year but had been dating for well over three, so you know his every tick and giveaway and when Harry begins to scratch and rub at the back of his neck you know it's bad news.

"I've got this really good chorus started with Mitch, but were still trying to figure out whether-"

"Harry"

"We spent all of yesterday working through the tracklist and I think I've narrowed it down to-"

"Harry"

"I think I'm going to end the album with the song I wrote on our honeymoon. I tweaked the melody but it's still-"

"Harry" you whispered for the last time before he finally stopped his rambling. You could see him by the way he was avoiding your stare that he didn't want to say the words you both were dreading. He isn't coming home for Christmas. You both knew it was a possibility when he flew out to LA nearly five weeks ago to finish the album before the new year. Despite Harry's offer of having you come to LA with him, your job didn't allow you the luxury of taking off that much time especially during one of your busiest times of the year. You had held out hope that Kid Harpoon and Harry could tie up all of the loose ends ahead of time, but clearly, that wasn't going to happen.

"I tried baby, I really did. There are just too many little things that need to get done here. I promise I'll try and make it back next week, we can have our own little Christmas together in London" he stated trying the lighten his crushing words. This was supposed to be your first Christmas as a married couple together so to say you were disappointed would be an understatement, but you knew that if you let Harry know he would be on the first flight out to London.

"It's ok, we both knew this could happen. I'm sure Anne and I will spend way too much time fussing over Adelaide to even notice you're not here" you replied back trying to lighten the mood a bit more by mentioning Gemma's adorable two-year-old daughter.

"Stop rubbing it in" he joked as Jeff called his name in the background. "I need to get back in before they all have my head for keeping them here past midnight again. I'll try and sneak another call later tonight if you're still up"

"So good, H. I love you"

"I love you too, (Y/n). See you soon" Harry replied back as he hung up. You closed your laptop and continued your quest to finish decorating your slightly distorted Christmas tree. Securing the lights onto the tree had somehow become the hardest part of decorating the tree, so while you were wrapped in a mess of bulbs and strings you didn't even notice Anne come in with two cups of hot chocolate.

"Oh dear let me give you a hand" Anne muttered as she placed the mugs on the coffee table before rushing to your side, delicately untangling you from the lights while placing each string perfectly in its place. You gave her a quick thanks before you walked over to the couch to admire your work.

"He texted me to check up on you, that crazy son of mine. Swear I love him, but sometimes he's got just no sense of priorities. Leaving his wife all alone for the holidays, just not right" Anne said as she passed you a mug and sat down next to you.

"I appreciate you belittling your son on my behave, but reset assured that I am ok. I'm sad we won't be able to spend our first Christmas together as a married couple, but I'm sure we'll have our own little Christmas once he gets back. Besides, I still get the full week off of work and I get to spend time with you and baby Adelaide for the next couple of days and it will be great!"

"Well if you ever need me to put him in his place you let me know, ok sweetheart? Can't have my favorite daughter-in-law feeling upset" she said as she wrapped her arms around you.

"Thanks, Anne" you replied as you gave her a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Anytime dear. Now quick, turn on channel Hollywood Gossip before Gemma shows up, she never lets me watch this show. I heard Lily James was spotted with an ex-boyfriend again"

The two of you spend the next hour catching up on some gossip and making lists of everything that still needed to be done before Christmas in two days. If there was one thing you were certain about, it was that you were going to make the most of your situation and try and have the best Christmas possible

**********

It was Christmas eve and you had spent the entire morning cooking and prepping for the large family meal you and Anne were hosting for Gemma and Michal and a couple of close friends. The two of you had been absolutely buzzing and Christmas tunes had been playing throughout the house since you both woke up bright and earlier at 7 am. You had scoured your suitcase for the perfect Christmas outfit but after spending 20 minutes trying on outfits in the and had settled for one of Harry's red cardigans and some dark washed jeans. The smell of the vanilla candle that smelt just like Harry that Anne had left in your room last night made you miss him even more as you finished getting yourself ready just in time to hear the doorbell ring downstairs.

You peeked out the window and saw Gemma and Michal standing at the door with little Adelaide at their feet and quickly ran to the door to greet them. Once you opened the front door a pair of small arms wrapped themselves around your legs as Adalaide screamed your name.

"Well hello, my sweet girl. I missed you so much! Did you miss me?" you asked as she nodded quickly. You picked her up carefully and smothered her face in kisses just as Anne came over to greet everyone. The five of you made your way out of the foyer and into the kitchen as Gemma wrapped her arms tightly around you and dragged you to the far end of the kitchen.

"Good afternoon my favorite sister. How is the married life treating you? Any surprises I should be worried about this Christmas?" she asked as she stole a Christmas cookie off of one of Anne's various dessert displays.

"It's been very nice, thank you. I don't think you'll be having any surprises from me this Christmas"

"Pitty I was hoping they be able to be in the same class as their cousin could go to school together," she said nonchalantly smirking at you as you stood there confused.

'What do you mean cousins? Adelaide already in day-care and I don't-- Oh my gosh Gemma are you -"

"Shh don't say it out loud, but yes. About eight weeks along, but we haven't told anyone yet. I'm telling you because last time I told you everything went well, so I think you're my good luck charm... and I need you to drink all of the shots Chloe tries to feed me tonight" She mumbled as you laugh and give her a big hug.

"Well congratulations Gem, I wish you both the best. Hey Adelaide, did you know what special person is going to be joining you really soon?" you asked the little girl in your arms as she played with the butterfly necklace Harry had gotten you for your second anniversary together.

"Santa"

"You're right baby Santa is coming tonight. Why don't you help me and Nana Anne finish decorating these last cookies before everyone gets here"

**********

The night was fantastic. After all of the guests had arrived, you all sat down to eat the wonderful roast Anne had been making all day. The room was filled with laughter and smiles as people recounted their most embarrassing Christmas stories. Your favorite was Michal's who as a child got so excited about seeing Santa at the mall that he actually peed on Santa's lap while telling him what he wanted for Christmas. Gemma discreetly slid her shot glass to you numerous times throughout the night and despite the questioning looks coming from Chloe, no one questioned Gemma's excuse of being the designated driver this year. Overall it was by far one of your favorite holiday meals to be a part of, you only wish Harry could have been there to share it with you.

"Me pants are about to explode, but does anyone fancy a little Christmas Eve stroll outside?" Michal asked as he cuddled a sleeping Adelaide to his chest.

There was a chorus of agreements and your large group slowly began to clean up their placemats and prepare themselves for the trek out in the snow. You helped Gemma load the dishwasher as Anne distributed Tupperware for everyone to take leftovers home with them before running upstairs to grab your winter jacket and boots. After everyone was all bundled up, you all headed outside into the snow, Gemma, and Michal leading the way as walked along the sidewalk. You watched the way Gemma placed a snowflake on Adelaide's nose and waited for the little girl to giggle before quickly wiping it off just to do it all over again. You continued to watch the interaction with a yearning in your heart at the thought of having your own kids with Harry and being able to take them on walks and show them ordinary things like snowflakes. Just as you had begun to drift off into your subconscious world Anne came up next to you and wrapped her arms with yours.

"That will be you someday, I can just feel it" Anne stated as she squeezed your hand tight. You gave her a small smile and nodded your head.

"I hope so. Just have to get your son to stay in one spot long enough" you joked as you rubbed your hands together for warmth.

"That man worships the grown you walk on, Love. If you tell him you want kids right now he'll drop everything"

"Hopefully when I get him back next week we can talk about it all a bit more" you replied as Anne nodded her head.

Your walk lasted about a half-hour until Adelaide began to cry saying she was tired and wanted to go to bed. You all preceded to head back into Anne's home for a bit to warm up before everyone would drive back to their respective homes to continue to celebrate their Christmases. Being the busy body that you were, you began to make tea for everyone in the hope of avoiding the dreaded interrogation about Harry and your's relationship that always came towards the end of these gatherings, but it never came. You think Anne must have warned them that you were feeling somewhat sad about Harry not being there because they managed to avoid the topic throughout the rest of the night. Just as the clock struck midnight everyone slowly began to say their goodbyes and exchanging any last-minute gifts that needed to be given. You helped Anne gather everyone's things and waved your last goodbyes before heading into the living room to relax a bit.

"I'm a bit wiped out dear so I think I'm going to head to bed early. Will you be ok here by yourself?" Anne asked cautiously as you scrolled through some pictures Harry had sent you the other day of him at the studio.

"Yes, I think I'll be ok. Have a good night Anne and thank you for a wonderful Christmas"

"No thanks needed dear, you're family now and always will be. I'll see you in the morning".

You waved a quick goodbye as Anne left upstairs to her room. The silence downstairs was only making your feelings of missing Harry worse so you decided to put on the TV and watch a Christmas movie to lift your spirits a bit as you cuddled Harry's picture to your chest. You know he was having Christmas Eve dinner with Jeff's family now and you didn't want to bother him so you decided that you would suck it up and wait until tomorrow to call him and tell him how much you really miss him. All you wanted this Christmas was to have him sitting next to you, sipping on a couple of hot chocolate and making fun of your weirdly patterned socks.

You hoped that flipping through the tv channels would help distract you but the minute you started channel surfing and Love Actually popped up on the screen in front of you, the waterworks began. You cried because you missed Harry. You cried because you didn't get to share all of your happy memories of today with him. You cried because you could cuddle him to sleep and wake up to his delicious scent. There you sat in his childhood home wrapped in a fuzzy blanket crying. You sobbed into the blanket as quietly as you could in the hopes of not waking up Anne and after what felt like an eternity, you finally fell asleep on the couch

*********

You were peacefully asleep on the couch until the sound of music blasting from the kitchen speaker startled you awake.

“I signed my letter that I sealed with a kiss I sent it off, and just said this...”

"Oh, fucking shit. Stupid fucking Tom calling me at..." you heard as a crash came from the kitchen.

You jumped from your curled up position on the couch and turned around to see where the noise was coming from. As you sank deeper into the couch hoping not to be seen, you saw a silhouette moving around the kitchen searching the drawers. Your pulse began to race as you start to run all of the potential ways in which this intruder could kill you right now. Just as you were about to reach for your phone to call 999, the intruder turned on the light and you saw a familiar head of curly hair.

"Jesus fucking christ Harry nearly gave me a heart attack" you stated as Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.

The two of you stared at each other for a while before you finally processed what was going on. Harry was here. Harry had made it. He was here for Christmas. He came. You all but sprinted off of the couch and launched yourself at him, hearing release gasp as you latched on to his body like a koala.

"Nearly gave me a heart attack there, love" he stated as he wrapped his arms around you and ran his hands through your hair.

"I could say the same thing. Who comes home after midnight and doesn't say anything, especially when said person said many times that they weren't going to be to make it home"

"Wasn't supposed to be home but then mom said you looked upset after our call yesterday so I told Jeff I would finish the rest in the London studio and zoom call any last-minute details. Excited to have me home?" he asked with a smirk.

"No" you stated trying to hide your excitement.

"Come on Love, don't lie to me. I'm excited to be home. Get to spend Christmas with my beautiful, smart, kind, amazing wife. Get to shower her with gifts. Best Christmas ever"

"Definitely best Christmas ever" you mumbled back as you leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips after so long.

"I have one more surprise for you that I think you'll like" he stated as he broke away from the kiss.

"What" you whined as he laughed at you.

"Told Columbia that I'd make the record, but that I'm not releasing it till the end of next year. Want to settle down a bit more, gain more stability in case..." he trailed off as he cheeks turned pink.

"In case what?" you asked innocently even though you knew exactly what he was insinuating.

"In case you want to try for a baby like we talked about on our honeymoon. Said you wanted more stability from me before we started trying so this me giving you that. Don't want to pressure you or anything and this is your choice and I don't- "

"Yes," you whispered.

"Yes?" he questioned before you nodded your head and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Tears appeared in his eyes as he spun you around the kitchen. You laughed as he chanted "baby baby baby" quietly as to not wake Anne but the joy in his expression spoke volumes. You were both ready for this next chapter in your life and whatever happens next, as long as you were together, you knew everything would be ok.

“Hey babe” you whispered as Harry continued to cheer quielty.

“Yes, Love?”

“Is Britney Spears your ringtone?”

“Maybe... It’s festive!” he defended as you laughed

“Ok love, whatever you say”

Hope you all enjoyed and happy early Christmas to all who celebrate and a Happy Holidays everyone!!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #Christmas #harry styles x fluff

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clarawatson · 3 years

Text

It Only Takes A Taste (2)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded) Summary: it’s your second time meeting Aaron. He’s still flustered and precious but he (might) manage to give you his number. W/C: 2113 Warnings: none yet! A/N: i haven’t got chapter names yet, just accept they’re all called ‘it only takes a taste’ haha. AO3 tags: @willowrose99 @genevievedarcygranger @maryosprinkle @kleff03 (if you want to get added, lmk!!) Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

The next time you meet him, it’s 2am. Rita’s three weeks off her due date. She’s been staying at Joe’s place, with his wife, because the heating’s gone out in her apartment and her super is a foul man. If you were inclined to murder, he’d be first on your list. Right now she’s out the back, trying to wipe chocolate sauce off her uniform. The baby’s been kicking for hours and knocks things around the counter sometimes. At least it isn’t throwing her ribs out this time.

There’s a couple of teens drinking milkshakes in the window, they’ve snuck out after bedtime and they’re giggling to each other about how bad they are. You’ve seen their parents drive by twice (they’re regulars after school) but no one’s come in yet.

The agent drives by, and then does a u-turn and comes back. It was literally a double take, no matter how you look at it. You clearly saw him slow down and try to look in the window as he tried (desperately tried) to stay on the main road. And then he’d turned around and come back.

He’s even prettier dry than he was wet. (Your mind spirals to where that could have gone, which is not something you expected from a 2am shift). He’s loosened his tie and his hair is falling free of the gel. He looks less tired, and yet more tired. A different kind of tired. This one would be fixed by a good night’s sleep.

“Hi,” he says with a little quirk in his lip that could be him fighting off a smile.

“Hi,” you return with a full smile. He sits in front of you and steeples his fingers under his chin.

“I’m Aaron.”

A fortnight you’ve been wondering his name and he just swans in and hands it to you on a silver platter. Bless him and his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y/n,” you introduce. “And what can I get for you tonight, Aaron?”

“Maybe not a coffee.” He doesn’t break eye contact with you. He has such a cheeky smile you almost want to reach over and wipe it off his lips. “A hot chocolate would do. I’ve got to sleep enough to take my kid to school.”

“Have here?” Your hands hover over the in-cups and the out-cups. He taps his finger against his chin.

“In.” He folds his hands and you notice he’s not wearing a wedding ring. Kid, no wedding ring, weird hours. Could be a score, could be a serial killer. Could be both! No. Not both. There will be no fraternising with serial killers. Not if you respect your life.

Would it be weird to ask him where he works? If he works for one of the alphabet soups, will it get you in trouble? Maybe. People don’t like you poking around when sensitive information could be involved. You still ask anyway while the coffee machine has it’s little dummy spit at having to work at two in the morning.

“Quantico,” he says. He probably saw you trying to figure out how to ask. And that’s really all he can say. Maybe. He waggles his eyebrows just a little and you think he’s maybe a little too cheeky for this early in the morning. If Rita was working she’d be swooning all over him.

“That’s very prestigious, but, sir, I don’t think you have the security clearance to be in this diner if you only work at Quantico. We deal with Area 51.”

“Long commute,” he teases.

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s what the uneducated think. I can break a few rules as long as you don’t start asking questions. No asking about where they keep the aliens, okay?”

“Never.” He wraps his hands around the mug as you push it to him, absorbing it’s warmth.

“Did your son like the cookie?” you ask. Is it weird to remember he has a son after one interaction? Or the cookie? But he smiles. It’s okay.

“He’s actually in love with it. He’s not stopped talking about it. I think my sister-in-law might kill me.”

“Joe’s magic in the kitchen. I’ll save a couple of cookies if you know when you’ll be in next?”

Is that too forward? Maybe. He pulls out a little day book and places it before him.

“Is Thursday too soon?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You make a note to tell Joe you’re working on Thursday. “Sounds like a good day to collect a cookie.”

“If someone could cut this monster out of me, that would be GREAT!” Rita yells in the kitchen. Her voice is still far too loud out here. Aaron finally drops his gaze from yours, grinning into his hot chocolate.

“Shit, babes, I’m serious. I’ll got for a pocket knife at this point. I’m hot, and it’s not hot, I have to piss every four minutes, I can’t even sit in a car properly and taking the MET is stupid because I still have to pee!” She stops up short, seeing Aaron, and blinks as if she could erase her last comment. “Hi, sorry, you’re rain boy.”

“I prefer Raymond.”

There’s a beat where you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. The cheeky demeanor falls from his face.

“Rain Man! Tom Cruise! Smile." Aaron has no option but to smile at Rita. Too late you realise she's checking the alignment of his teeth to actually equate him to Tom Cruise. "Raymond, for sure. Shit, that’s funny,” Rita laughs, groans, and turns on her heel out the back. She needed to pee again. Aaron smiles just a little.

“Want some pie?” you offer. There’s still a bit left. Joe won’t be in for another hour or so, but there’s some in the oven to take out just before three. Aaron nods.

“Yeah, please.” He puts too much money in the tip jar again. Hands you the exact money for the pie. Had he looked at the menu online? Maybe he had. You take a slice out for him, then a slice for yourself. No harm in that. The whipped cream goes on his like a mountain. You put a bit beside your own pie slice, but Aaron’s grinning.

He looks like he may do something childish. He doesn't, though, as you join him in pie eating. The teenagers start giggling about something they're watching on their phone.

Rita comes back looking more tired than usual. Her whole body looks tired as she gets her purse and rubs her belly.

"Say bye to Rita," she says without much playful effort.

"Bye Rita," you return and kiss her cheek as she lifts it to you.

"And to Baby."

"Bye Baby, be good for Mom."

Rita snorts. Joe gives you a list of things to do while he's taking Rita home. Apparently Lola's coming in to replace Rita, but that's only going to be proven by Lola actually turning up. Aaron raises his hand around his fork and waves. Rita waves back and waddles out the back.

"Is she okay?" you ask Joe, and he nods. He waves goodbye to Aaron, even though he hasn't introduced himself yet. Aaron waves too.

"That's a lot to worry about," Aaron says. You shrug and reach over the counter to Aaron's plate, taking some of his cream. He laughs and puts his arm around it to protect it.

"They're family. Less worrying, more caring."

He nods as if he understands. "Might use that sometime."

"You're welcome to."

He gives you a smile that only uses half his face. Gosh, he's cute. But it’s nothing more than fleeting night time visits, right? Okay, maybe not, he clearly turned his car around because he saw you working. You catch him staring at your left hand, studying it intently. No one wore rings at the diner, just because everything got stuck underneath them and there was nothing worse than having a maple syrup adorned wedding ring.

“There’s no one,” you tell him, which flusters him entirely. He smiles and looks down at his pie, blush creeping over his face. “Weird hours in a place like this? Hardly a brilliant base to build a relationship on.”

“Yeah.” He might want to say more, but he’s smiling at you again. “Weird hours, strange place, know that story.”

“Sucks, hey?”

“Oh yeah.”

The teens from the window go home when they’ve finished their milkshake. You tell them to get home safe and pray their parents don’t come in asking where they went. Aaron scraps his plate, scooping up the cream and pie soupy mess.

“I have to go,” Aaron sighs. He runs his hand through his hair and his fingers get stuck in the left-over-gelly-mess. You smother a giggle as he rolls his eyes and pulls his hand out with tiny little crack-crack-crack’s. It sounds painful.

“I’m going to shower and get this shit out of my hair.”

“It’ll look nice without it in.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

He blushes, returning to the man you’d met coming out of the rain.

“Well I’ll remember that for next time.”

Your heart jumps. Next time! There’ll be a next! Time!

“Listen, hey, um,” Aaron says as he stuffs a couple of bills into the tip jar. “Here--” he stops again, then shakes his head like he’s giving himself a vote of confidence. “This is…” he stops again and licks his lips, then pulls out a business card from his suit pocket. He scratches his number onto the blank back, and then Aaron at the top. “My number,” he managed to finish.

“Thanks,” you respond before wanting to smack your head onto the counter. Thanks?!?! There are a hundred better things to say. “W-when do you want me?” When do you want me??? “To be here, on Thursday, for the cookies.”

Aaron’s gone red. Your face is hot. This is a disaster. There’s no fixing this disaster. There’s no fixing it at all. But Aaron smiles all the same.

“U-uh. I’ll text you?” he looks so flustered.

“You haven’t got my number,” you giggle, because he hasn’t. You’ve got his. He looks like a tomato as he blushes even more. “How about I text you my number, and you tell me when you’re free, and I’ll make sure there’s three cookies set aside for you that no one else buys.”

“Three?”

“You, your son, your sister-in-law.”

“I could really use you at work,” he laughs and… sits back down. Four seconds ago he was in such a rush to leave, and now he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world. He’s so precious, you wish you could just put him in a jar and protect all that goodness from the evils of the world. Surely he couldn’t have met too many of them just yet? He’s still got a smile that could brighten up the night sky, people who’ve seen all the hurt and pain in the world can’t smile like that.

“I don’t think I’m clever enough to get into Quantico. Unless they like people serving them coffees,” you smile gently and he tilts his head while looking at you. A curious puppy. You want to lean over and squish his cheeks for thinking you could be anything more than a server at a roadside diner.

“You’d brighten the place up.”

“You brighten my place up.” Corny, highschool grade flirting. He smiles all the same. Can he smile any more than that? Probably not, he might combust and become a star. “You know you don’t have to keep putting money into the tip jar, right? Not the amount you do. Most people just put in their change.”

He looks at the tip jar. “It’s for Rita’s hospital bills, right? It’s why she won’t look at it, because she’s embarrassed, but also why you and Joe count every bill that goes in it.”

“Alright, Sherlock Holmes.”

“It says on the jar,” he jokes, and points to the permanent marker that’s bled through the otherside of the tip jar. You laugh. Aaron laughs.

“I do have to go.”

“Go,” you laugh. “I’ll text you when I’m off my shift.”

He nods, looking a little sad to go, but also a little excited. He must really love his son.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Y/n.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Aaron,” you return and watch him leave. Shit, he’s even cuter leaving. He even waves from his car before he drives off. You’re close to squealing when the bikie gang pull up, flooding the carpark, then all come in ready for their coffee. At least Aaron’s hot chocolate warmed up the machine for them.

#It Only Takes a Taste #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #diner!au

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batsandbugs · 4 years

Text

Bats Bugs and Boomerangs Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everyone, coming at you with another series! This is actually for a late secret santa gift exchange! My recipient was @m3owww! Her fandoms were Maribat and Avatar the Last Airbender, so I thought: Why not both? She already had a Maribat characters in the show type fic, so I created a fic where they watched the show. It slowly spiraled out of control though, so this is Chapter 1. I’ll eventually have the batfam (and Marinette) react to the whole series, so comment here and on ao3 what you want to see. So Phi, this is kinda like the gift that will keep on giving? Maybe? I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!

Our story begins on a frosty winter evening, outside Gotham at Wayne Manor. Marinette sat in the library working on an assignment for her History of Fashion class. She was alone, because Damian, Dick, Tim, and Bruce were out on patrol, with Barbara on comms. Tikki, unless eating or involved with a transformation, spent her time sleeping due to the freezing weather. While the other Kwami either resided in the box or roamed the grounds, and generally stayed out of the human's way.

Marinette gazed out the window, snow falling softly through the air, covering the ground and the tree branches. A crackling fire warmed the room. She shifted, and a painful ache shot through her leg. Marinette glared at the offending appendage, which was the reason she wasn’t out with the team tonight.

Her Miraculous could cure any injury sustained on the battlefield, it didn’t help her one bit when it came to her own natural clumsiness. She hadn’t paid attention as she’d walked out of class one evening. The dim lighting hid a black ice patch and she slipped and fell. Thankfully, her ankle was only sprained and not broken, but she would be out of commission for at least two weeks. Probably more if Alfred got his way.

Speaking of the elderly butler, he strode into the room carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

“Good evening Miss. Marinette. Need another refreshment?”

She sighed at the cold coffee dregs in her mug. “That would be nice, thank you, Alfred.”

He hummed, grabbing a teacup, and pouring her a serving. “How does your leg feel today? I notice you were leaning heavily on Master Damian after supper.” He handed the cup to her and the warmth was a welcome sensation for her chilled hands.

“Yeah, he’s been nice helping me around.” Nice was a misnomer, more like extremely overprotective. He point-blank refused for her to stay at her own apartment, mostly due to its location on the fourth floor with no elevator access. He all but forced her to watch him pack her essentials to bring to the manor while she recovered. Since then, his attentiveness in ensuring she had what she needed within reach and helping her to class had grown. It was a tad smothering considering his usual aloofness, but she enjoyed his actions for the affection it implied.

“It’s throbbing and hot and feels worse than it did three days ago.” She took a tiny sip of the tea and relaxed into its spiced aroma. Alfred made the best tea.

He nodded. “It will feel uncomfortable for a while until it starts to mend. Just continue to rest and remain off it and you will be back to carousing around the city like the rest of them in no time.” He poured his own tea and seated himself in the plush armchair across from her spot on the couch.

“Oh, Alfred you say that as if you would not be right there along with us if age allowed,” said Marinette with a grin. The stories Dusu could recount about the elderly miraculous holder were nothing short of entertaining, and she knew damn well Alfred had the same need for action as the rest of the Waynes and their assorted allies.

“I’d do nothing of the sort,” he said primly, taking a sip of his tea to hide the tiny smirk on his face. Marinette couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant silence. Despite the pain in her leg Marinette pushed through it and finished her assignment, while Alfred read until it neared time when patrol ended. He bustled up the remains of the tea and promise her a fresh cup when he finished seeing everyone arrive safely.

Later, although she could not say how long, she was buried deep in a book and didn’t notice when Damian entered the room until he sat next to her on the couch.

“Good evening angel.” His hair flopped in his eyes, loose and damp from the shower. In his hands, he held a tray with two cups of steaming tea.

“Thanks.” She took the proffered cup of tea with a smile. “How was patrol?”

“Boring,” he sighed. “You certainly are not missing anything.” If he wouldn’t have taken offense to it, Marinette would have described the look on his face as a pout.

“What about the drug seller Tim tracked to the lower docks?”

Damian shrugged. “Gone silent after we busted the last shipment. Seventeen years in and maybe the criminals finally figured out committing crimes in the same city as a relentless vigilante team is a bad idea,” he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Marinette couldn’t stop herself from giggling. It was a common joke among the family that Gotham’s criminals never learned.

“I think it means we’re doing our job right,” said Tim walking in with a steaming mug. Marinette opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Don’t worry, it’s decaf.”

“Like Pennyworth would let him drink anything else this time of night,” scoffed Damian, while taking a sip of his tea.

“I’m perfectly capable of monitoring my own caffeine intake, thanks,” Tim said in offense, seating himself across from the couch in the reading chair previously abandoned by Alfred.

“No, you’re not,” called a voice from the hallway. Dick walked in with a large mug of what was undoubtedly hot chocolate. “The last time he didn’t check your drink after patrol, you used coffee instead of water to brew another pot, and then added four whole bottles of five-hour energy. You didn’t sleep for three days.”

“I also solved five crimes, figured out where the Penguin was hiding, and streamlined the dropbox submission system for Wayne Industries. Life requires tradeoffs.”

“No that’s just you, ignoring basic human necessities. Anyway, besides Tim’s caffeine addiction, what are we talking about?” asked Dick.

“The reason for the lack of crime,” offered Marinette.

Dick shrugged, “Happens every year because of the weather. Even criminals get cold. They’ll return to their usual transgressions once the weather warms.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Tt. Weak,” muttered Damian.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Not everyone receives extreme weather training under threat of dismemberment, demon brat. We should take the opportunity to enjoy the break.”

“Tim, your version of a “break” involves paperwork,” chided Dick.

“It’s not my fault the rest of you people don’t have lives. I’m a remarkably busy person. And what is this, the-criticize-Tim-hour?”

“Oh, only an hour?” smirked Damian. “I thought it was a continuous event, one could choose to participate in whenever the mood struck. I will have to file all my complaints immediately.”

Tim pouted. “Marinette,” he whined. “Can’t you control him?”

She shrugged, “What do you expect me to do? I’m his girlfriend, not his minder. Besides, they criticize because they care.” She laughed when all three boys snarled their noses at the prospect of feelings.

“Marinette, angel, please; never say that again. I criticize because I am right, and they should know it. Not because of any high-minded ideals such as genuine affection.”

“Okay, okay, enough,” said Dick. “If we have a bit of a break, we should do something! Together, as a family. I think Cass and Steph come back in two days.”

“Grayson, just because your girlfriend is off-world visiting family and you have nothing to do does not mean it holds true for the rest of us.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Tim, “Except not quite, because I don’t have a girlfriend, but I just said I’m busy. R&D is rolling out a new prototype next week, and I have two board meetings scheduled and-”

“Not to mention,” Marinette cut Tim off. He could talk about his schedule forever because he just had that many events. “I can’t move around, what would we even do? Play games?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “The list of games officially banned in our family includes, but is not limited to; Monopoly, Uno, Checkers, Risk, Risk: Legacy, Twister, Jenga, Clue, Guess Who, Poker, Chess, and Go Fish.”

“Oh…” muttered Marinette.

“And that doesn’t even include videogames.”

“After the Wii Bowling incident of 2013, the media room wall was never the same,” Dick said, shaking his head in despair.

“I actually apologized for that, okay?” exclaimed Damian. “Why do you always have to bring it up?”

Marinette fully intended to ask about the incident later. “Okay, so games are out.”

“Ooh,” Dick’s eyes lit up, “How about we call a Family T.V. Event?”

Tim groaned, “The last time we did that we blew up the shed, and got the police called.”

“Well, we won’t watch a crime show.” Dick turned to Marinette. “Jason picked; we watched Breaking Bad.”

“I can see how that would spiral out of control.”

“The time before that, we set fire to the media room and started a familial feud,” Damian pointed out. “Game of Thrones,” he added when Marinette looked to him for clarification.

“Even worse.”

“Okay, fine, so we don’t have the best track record picking shows. But I swear I have a good one this time.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

Tim snorted. “What? Like the kid’s show?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Really Grayson, a cartoon? I know you are developmentally stuck at five, but not all of us are.”

“I’ve never watched it, but I’ve heard good things about it,” said Marinette. She knew there was a French translation of the show, but she preferred to watch media in its original language. Before moving to America, before dating Damian, her English had not been strong enough to confidently watch a show and understand all of it.

“Perfect!” exclaimed Dick. “I know you three and Cass haven’t seen it, and neither has Bruce or Alfred. I would bet Jason’s seen some of it, but I’ll have to check. Barbara and I have, but that’s fine, she loves the show. We’ll have to see about Steph too, but I’m sure she’ll enjoy it regardless. There are awesome characters, battles, suspense, comedy, and it’s not likely going to inspire us to blow up the shed or tear each other to pieces!”

“I have in no way agreed to this Grayson. Drake back me up.”

Tim paused for a moment, stuck between his need to disagree with Damian and the need to get out of Dick’s crazy plan. Unfortunately for Damian, the former won out. “Actually, you know what, a show could be fun. The episodes are what, thirty minutes? Shorter than Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones.”

Damian groaned while Dick responded happily, ignoring his brother’s distress, “Around twenty minutes actually. We could have the whole show finished in about a week or so.”

Damian turned to her, eyes wide and hopeful. “Marinette, please tell me you are on my side?”

She patted her boyfriend’s arm, “Sorry, mon amour, I’m stuck either way. Might as well watch a show.”

Damian flopped against the couch with a pout. “Betrayed. I have been grievously betrayed by my own brothers and girlfriend. What is this world coming to?”

“Woo!” exclaimed Dick, a wide grin splitting his face. “This is going to be great.”

“This is going to be awful,” moaned Damian.

-0-0-

It took a bit of convincing on the part of Dick to get Bruce and Alfred to agree to the venture. Marinette, after learning the full details of the last two Family T.V. Events, was wholly unsurprised. She also did not know the full extent of what Dick did to get Jason to agree (apparently, he and Bruce were fighting, again, so this was expected.) although it probably involved a bribe. But by the week’s end, the entire family was together, all under strict orders (and puppy-dog eyes from Dick) to be on their best behavior.

Which, without a doubt, not a single one of them knew what that entailed.

The arguing started with seating placement, then about who controlled the remote, then over the distribution of snacks, drinks, blankets, and pillows. At one point Jason pulled a knife, which prompted Damian to pull his knife, suddenly Cass had two shurikens visible (where she even kept them while wearing a tank top and shorts, no one could say), and then everyone was yelling with sharp pointy objects in hand.

Once the argument was firmly under control, Alfred collected the weapons and placed them in a wicker basket, along with all the mobile devices, until the episodes for the night were finished. The only one allowed to have a phone was Barbara who was in charge of checking police scanners for any major trouble while the family took the evening off.

Marinette seated herself curled up against Damian on the edge of the couch. She set her foot propped up on an ottoman so it wouldn’t get jostled, and she could continue to ice it throughout the evening. Damian secured their own bowl of popcorn, so they didn’t have to share it with the others.

“Alright, here’s how we’re breaking this down,” announced Dick, who won the battle for the remote, and therefore the episode schedule. “The episodes are short, at least, much shorter than the last show we watched.” He directed a pointed look at Jason.

“I make no apologies.”

“We’ll watch half a season a day, ten episodes apiece. The closed captions will be on but try to keep the chatter to a minimum.” Marinette held back a laugh. Damian explained no one kept quiet during these nights. Watching the show wasn’t the point of these events; if that were the case then they would just watch it all on their own time. The point was the time spent together. This is why even Bruce, emotionally constipated and single-minded in his pursuits as he was, put away the suit for a few days to watch T.V. with the rest of his collected family. Talking was expected.

“We will, if you will,” called Stephanie.

“I take offense to that.”

“Aw just sit Dickie, let’s watch the show,” exclaimed Jason.

“Yes, Grayson you already wrapped us into this pointless venture; we might as well get it over with,” Damian grumbled. Marinette found his hand in the folds of their shared blanket and laced her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand, and, when he was sure no one else was looking gave her a small smile. Marinette smiled back, he pretended to be such a grouch, but deep down he was a giant softy at heart.

Dick frowned, saying “Fine, fine, you don’t have to be spoilsports about it.” And pointed the remote at the T.V. starting the first episode.

-0-0-

It didn’t take ten seconds before the commentary began.

“Four elements?” exclaimed Tim. “Are you serious? I could name at least a dozen off the top of my head. How are there only four nations? 0/10 completely unrealistic. Political infighting alone-”

“Ah, shut up, replacement.”

“Ruthless fire nation?” said Stephanie. “Methinks a little propaganda might be occurring here.”

“A hundred years!? What, has no one competent been born the entire time?”

Marinette shrugged. “The disadvantages of finite magic systems, Dami. It's learned indifference.”

“Honey, after a hundred years that’s not hoping, that’s naivety,” said Stephanie in response to Katara’s impassioned speech.

“She’s right!” exclaimed Dick.

“We know that, but she doesn’t.”

The show moved on to Katara and Sokka in a boat. Sokka held a spear above the water.

“Is he hunting that fish?” growled Damian.

“Ah yeah, I forgot you may hate the entirety of Sokka’s character,” said Dick with a grimace. “Whoops.”

“She’s not very good at the water moving, is she?” asked Marinette

“Waterbending,” Dick and Barbara said in unison.

Sokka chided Katara about her weird water magic. “Oh, he’s not going to be a dick for the whole show, is he?” asked Steph.

“He gets better.”

“They grew up here right?” asked Damian, as Katara and Sokka become caught in a rapid. “How did they not anticipate an event like this.”

“I knew I should have left you at home. Leave it to a girl to screw things up!”

“HEY!” shouted all the women in the room.

They watched as Katara’s fury built and broke the iceberg behind her.

“Good. Use anger, anger is alright,” Cass commented for the first time.

“Okay, you’ve gone from weird, to freakish.”

“This punk is just asking for a beating isn’t he,” growled Jason.

The beam of energy shot into the air after Katara and Sokka broke open the ice. “That’s not going to cause any trouble,” said Tim, rolling his eyes. “Nope, not suspicious or completely conspicuous at all.”

The scene switches to a metal ship.

“Finally! Uncle, do you realize what this means?”

“Oh, look, the bad guys,” deadpanned Tim. “I was right.”

Jason grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it into his mouth “What happened to his fucked-up fa-”

“YOU’LL FIND OUT!”

The scene switched back to Katara and Sokka. The figure is revealed to be a hyperactive little kid.

Damian frowned“Oh, I won’t like him either, will I Grayson?”

Dick tilted his head, “Eh.”

Then Appa is introduced.

“Father, could we-”

“No, Damian.”

They watched the children depart, and the scene moved back to the Fire Nation ship.

“Even if you're right, and the Avatar is alive, you won't find him. Your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all tried and failed.”

“Well considering the Airbender child has been in an iceberg, it’s not surprising they failed.”

“Because their honor didn't hinge on the Avatar's capture. Mine does. This coward's hundred years in hiding are over.”

“Is it just me or does this angry, emo prince remind anyone of demon spawn?”

“Todd, shut your mouth before I remove your tongue.”

Marinette leaned in close, “Maybe just a little like you.” Damian looked at her with a betrayed pout.

The scene switched and they watched Aang lie to Katara about the Avatar.

“The air child is guilty. Will cause problems later.”

“Narrative Cass, it’s narrative.”

Damian scoffed. “Miscommunication is plot convenience, and it’s a sloppy one at that.”

They watched Aang’s dream of how he ended up in the iceberg, him waking up to Katara and his introduction to the village.

“Well, no one has seen an Airbender in a hundred years. We thought they were extinct until my granddaughter and grandson found you.”

“Extinct?”

“He went into the ice and woke up to find the world different. Anyone getting serious Captain America vibes here?” said Jason, tone-deaf to the clear horror on Aang's face.

“Jason, he just found out his people potentially went extinct!” chided Marinette.

“It's not for stabbing! It's for air bending.”

“Please tell me the main character is not a pacifist,” begged Damian.

“Well, he is a monk,” said Barbara with a sorry look.

“I sense he's filled with much wisdom,” Katara says as Aang sticks his tongue to his staff and it freezes.

“I switch back and forth between liking this girl and not. One second she’s got gumption, and the next she’s all starry-eyed and naïve,” grumbled Steph.

“I wonder who that reminds me of,” Damian whispered into Marinette’s ear. She felt her cheeks heat up.

"I'm not naive," she shot back.

He raised a hand with two fingers close but not touching, "You're a little naive." Marinette huffed, but silently admitted to her boyfriend's point. She had a tendency to believe the best in people; she saw it as a strength and appreciated it in this Katara character, but it was so far from how Damian viewed the world, it honestly confused his siblings when they first started dating.

Damian confided in her that he found it inspiring. She had been through so much, understood the cruelties of others, and still could see the good in people.

The scene switched to the Fire Nation ship again, and Iroh explained the concept of firebending to an irate Prince Zuko.

“Finally, a display of actual competence,” exclaimed Damian.

“Enough! I've been drilling this sequence all day. Teach me the next set! I'm more than ready!”

“My tutors would have skewered me if I dared to act in such a manner,” he commented again, softer than the first time. More so that only Marinette could hear. Damian’s family was more than aware of his childhood and what it entailed; Marinette slowly learned with comments like this. She squeezed his hand again and received a small smile.

The scene shifted back to the village where Sokka’s failed “warrior lesson” occurred, and then-

“We don't have time for fun and games with the War going on!”

“What war? What are you talking about?”

“Where have you been, frozen in ice for a hundred years?” joked Dick.

They watched Aang offer to take Katara to the North Pole to find a water bending master. The two children go and play with the penguin creatures, but the tone shifted when an old Fire Nation ship appeared on the screen.

“Bad ship” muttered Cass.

“If you want to be a bender, you have to let go of fear.”

“There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t even know where to start,” said Tim.

They watch Aang and Katara enter the Fire Nation Ship and wander talking about the war.

“Aang, how long were you in that iceberg?”

“I don't know. A few days, maybe?”

“I think it was more like a hundred years!”

“Are you kidding me?” yelled Jason. “How are they just figuring this out now?”

On-screen Aang stepped on the line of wire, tripping the traps.

“Tt. Amateurs.”

"See, she told him it would be a bad idea!"

A flare rises through the air.

“That’s not going to cause any-”

“Oh, shut up Tim.”

The Fire Prince once again appeared on the screen.

“The last Airbender!”

“I was right,” he mumbled.

The screen faded to the credits, and Dick turned to the group.

“So? What do you think?”

“Slow.”

“Nobody has any sense.”

“Are any of the characters actually likable?”

He frowned. “Okay, okay, so the first episode isn’t the best. I swear it gets better. Back me up here Barb.”

Barbara nodded. “He’s right, it takes a few episodes to build the characters up and we see some genuine action. But by mid-season, I swear you’ll be hooked. And then we’ll get to season two and the best characters will arrive.”

“Hey,” Dick exclaimed, pointing a finger at her. “No spoilers.”

“I thought it was fun,” Marinette offered. “It’s very clearly a kid’s show, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” She wasn’t going to say each and every person in the room had childhood traumas, and a show full of lighthearted fun was probably just what they needed. She could think it, but she wouldn’t say it.

“Thank you, Marinette,” said Dick with a smile.

“I rather enjoyed the elderly tea drinker,” intoned Alfred. “He’s more than he appears to be.”

“Uncle Iroh? Yeah, he’s the best!” commented Barbara. "But everyone is great."

“Alright, episode one finished, nine more to go.”

“Let’s hope it’s more enjoyable than the last,” uttered Damian, a chorus of agreement followed his statement, but when the show started up everyone grew quiet again.

Marinette was sure whatever happened next, it was bound to be interesting.

Tag List (Although it is on ao3 too)

@m3owww @your-resident-chimken-nuggie @loveswifi @fusser90@animegirlweeb @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere

#damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #moodboard #damientte #damianette #marinnette dupain cheng x damian wayne #mlb x dc #characters watch the show #maribat watching atla

223 notes · View notes

taeyaxx · 4 years

Note

How would the Haikyuu Captains spend Christmas with you? Like, what gift would they get you and the activities y’all would do? (Bokuto, Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Terushima)

tae’s notes: aaaaaaah!! ok so i love my nsfw but sfw like this makes my heart go 🥺🥰🥰 i really love hc’s like this too because all these boys are DORKS!!! thank you so much for the ask!! <3

⫸ ━━━━━━━━ ♥ ━━━━━━━━ ⫷

tags: sfw, fluff, bokuto is the biggest nerd when it comes to the holidays, holiday fun, cozy winter’s, warm sweaters, longer post, hc’s, mention of nsfw, mention of alcohol, just mostly sweet hc’s okay 🥺

⫸ ━━━━━━━━ ♥ ━━━━━━━━ ⫷

taglist: @kaaidalupita @ushiwakajimas @lunarkawa

okay so for bokuto i imagine him as the BIGGEST holiday person

like he goes above and beyond for the holidays

especially Christmas!!!

will go all out and i mean it!!

brings home a billion decertations and makes it a competition to see who can hang up the most in ten minutes

he always wins somehow

buys you two ugly ass sweaters too

like i mean those really really ugly sweaters that he knows are ugly but it’s become a tradition between you two

just wearing.......the ugliest sweaters as you two put the tree up

as for gifts i think bokuto isn’t one to put like....a lot of money into them?

feel like he’s the type of guy to buy you something that hits you in the heart and makes you want to smother him in kisses

nothing too expensive but it’s the sentimental thought that counts

as for party games or activities i think bo would be into the cuter ones like gingerbread houses or just baking in general

not that he knows how to bake but he likes to help you make cookies okay

(by help i mean he’s got his arms wrapped around your waist and chin on your shoulder and watching you bake and occasionally handing you things)

he’d sweep you under the mistletoe and kiss you until you both started laughing

picking you up he’d carry you off to the bedroom, sharing a chuckle with you for no other reason than just how in love he is with you

and then he’d quiet down and make the slowest, sweetest love to you 🥺

alright the next boy is the lovely oikawa!

feel like he isn’t the BIGGEST holiday person

for no reason i just think he’d be like “eh it’s another day”

but that DEF changes when he meets you

his attitude starts to go from “it’s a Tuesday” to slowly looking forward to every holiday he can celebrate with you

especially Christmas because it’s the one day he can spoil you in gifts and you can’t really get mad at him

like bokuto tho, he wouldn’t be the most expensive gifts

he’d get a bunch of things he had noticed you spoke of or the things your eyes lingered on just a little longer than others when you two were out

def the type to wake you up with breakfast in bed

like isn’t the GREATEST cook in the world but he knows how to make some decent food

and he makes sure everything is perfect for your holiday morning

he’d pull out your favorite sweater of his and he’d wear it all day

bring you warm fuzzy socks and his favorite sweater for you and a cup of coffee/tea/hot chocolate

his main gift is probably that one pair of shoes you had wanted for awhile but could never bring yourself to buy

or just any similar gift

for activities, oikawa is ALL about the games

he sets up every holiday game he can think of

does that stupid thing where he wraps a specific gift in like 12 layers of duct tape and 8 layers of bubble wrap and 5 layers of zip ties

like is an ASS abt it but it’s always funny having to beg him to get a pair of scissors for you because he went overboard again

after gifts he’d pull you off to the bedroom and kiss you slowly before

giving you all the pleasure in the world 🥰

next is daichi! let’s just say....

MY BOY!!!

daichi here isn’t into any other holiday EXCEPT for Christmas

mans does everything for Christmas

he’s buying the decorations and hanging them up with your help

setting the tree up IN NOVEMBER !!

goes crazy with the lights outside too

like y’all are def known for being THAT house on the street just

full blown Christmas lights

when Christmas morning comes tho, he’d wake you up nice and early (not anymore so than normal tho) and take you into the kitchen where he’s made the BIGGEST breakfast for you

i’m talking every breakfast food is out on the tabel and you can’t help but shake your head

cause who’s gonna eat it all?

somehow you two finish up whatever you can before he’s moving onto doing some small activities

he doesn’t go crazy with them but likes to do some stuff with you

somehow got into painting?

don’t know how it happened but i feel like he sets up an entire thing in one of the spare rooms

and you two just paint the silliest things you can think of

and at some point you two def play drunk roulette and try to guess what alcohol was what in each cup

as for gifts the man is stupid when it comes to buying things

he goes so overboard when spending money on you

doesn’t buy like 15 million gifts but will buy you 3 or 4 SUPER expensive gifts

and you sit there, opening them up and knew he would spend too much money so you also had to buy more expensive gifts

that he would use everyday just because you paid for them of course

by the end of the night you two end up on the couch, cuddling under a giant blanket, and watching some hallmark Christmas movies smh

and if you want something a little more exciting, because daichi is That gentleman, he waits for you to ask

and when you do? y’all don’t even move to the bed

he’d kiss you all slow and dim the lights and let the movie behind you play out as you two focus on the more intimate parts of the holiday

kuroo my baby.....my life....my heart I love him

mans is so cute during the holidays he’s just 🥺

baby boy doesn’t wake up super early at all

he’d wake up a little bit but you two know it’s too cold so you just cuddle in closer and fall asleep until noon

when you two finally get up tho, he’s sluggish pulling you out of bed and giving you a sweater to wear and that’s all he wants you to wear

pulling you into the living room to reveal his gift for you and it’s gotta be like a dog or cat or something istg

you’d just walk into a new cat sitting on the couch just sleeping away and you just SIGH

“kuroo...it’s adorable but this will be the 4th cat we have”

“BAAAABE it’s so cute tho 🥺”

so you get another cat lol Which is fine cause…..it is cute 🥺

can’t decide if kuroo would wait until night to get into the sexc or if he would just start the entire day off with little whispers and lazy sex and then it’s just all daaaaay baby

pulls you into the bath together

like srsly would fuck you all day long as a gift too

and god if it isn’t a great gift tho smh

finally you both decide to get dressed and go out to any open place for dinner

being too tired from the rest of the activities you had done all day

which is probably why you guys don’t play any games at all lol you just end up being too tired

so no traditional activities other than being bent over every surface in your house

after it gets too dark i’m sure you two would just cuddle into bed, legs tangled up in a mess and just whisper all the things you love abt each other yk how it be 🥺🥺

NOW THIS IS MY MAAAAAAN UGH

ushi doesn’t really see the desire of the entire holiday

like giving gifts and eating a good dinner should be EVERY NIGHT he thinks

Christmas eve you two would visit his family (cause uwu farm boi) so that way he’d have you all to himself Christmas day

probs has a tradition on like baking pie together or some kind of sweets

makes it a little competition to see who can bake the best pie tbh

you always win somehow

other than that he really isn’t into too many games?

he just enjoys your company and usually places you and himself in front of the fireplace and you two cuddle for the entire day

you read books and joke and laugh and paint your nails and do just mundane things together

at some point in the night tho he’d turn on some music and would slow dance with you in the kitchen 🥺

as for gifts?

BRUH

that’s all i’m gonna say sjksjd

ok ok but no this man buys you SO MUCH

like yeah he doesn’t see the reason to buy you gifts only for this one day (cause let’s tbh he buys you gifts constantly)

but for Christmas? he just..... “oh this is a thing everyone else does so i must do it too” but in the kindest way

buys you an entire new wardrobe because he notices you wanting some new shirts

buys you new purses or wallets or jewelry

would surprise you with a trip to some vacation home somewhere

like he is all god giving on Christmas

lowkey would def surprise you with an entire new wardrobe just for lingerie and you can’t fight me on this

it makes you a little sad you only buy him a few new watches and new ties or whatever else he might have mentioned over a few lunches or dinners

he doesn’t mind tho since he’s literally all abt pleasuring you yk

for the later activities tho, i feel like he’d be more like daichi?

like def would bend you over the counter as you two cooked dinner or in front of the fireplace but he waits for you

waits until you’re calling for him to make love to you

and when he does? UGH

let’s just say he has you crying later

baby boy....baby....

much like kuroo i feel like he’d wanna make love ALL DAY

wakes you up early just to have morning sex

after the third round you have to tell him they need to eat something

and tbh feel like he might lowkey forget to get you a gift until the LAST DAY

like he def just bought this gift last night and wrapped it while you slept

and tbh....it’s so cute of him to do that jkjks

he seems like the type to buy you jewelry or socks or both lol

like buys you a new necklace and some rings

def doesn’t try to talk you into getting a matching tongue piecing yk

also feel like he’d buy a new set of “bedroom toys” for you two to try out

and at first it’s like “of course he would” but you thank him later after using them

also a HUGE fan of ugly sweaters

but makes it a game to see who can MAKE the ugliest sweater like

you will not see this man spend money on an ugly sweater but he will buy a bunch of ugly accessories just so you two can have fun making them

so it’s a tradition now that you two a week before Christmas begin making ugly sweaters

usually it ends up being a tie smh

feel like he would be into a bunch of other games tho

like the white elephant games or caramel apples and ginger bread houses

he just wants to spend all his time with you so he looks up a bunch of games you two can play

he almost seems like the type to do puzzles? so maybe you two would work on a 2,000 piece puzzle together

watch really old and bad movies together too

for some reason i feel like he’d be the best cook out of all the boys??? for no reason really i just...imagine he knows how to cook so well

so he def makes this big ass dinner of anything you wanted even if it’s not traditional food

like the one year you guys literally had PIZZA just because it sounded good

also talk abt snow ball fights and building all sorts of things outta the snow

and y’all can fight me on this............after a few years he’d be that cliche guy to propose to you and confess his entire heart out for you

(of course you say yes becausae you’re so in love with him 🥰)

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 11

* * * * * *

Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap

A slightly hairy hand shoots out and wraps around your fingers. The person it belongs to gives it a gentle squeeze, prompting you to look up at him.

Bucky’s brown eyebrows raise in concern and his lips twitch at the corner in sympathy.

“I know there’s a lot on your mind right now but the tapping-”

“Sorry.” You sigh, eyes moving back down to the cup of hot chocolate you’d long since stopped drinking.

Despite the insanely cold and snowy weather of New York, Bucky and Steve persisted they take you out of the compound.

The tense atmosphere in the facility was a bit smothering. On top of that your friends had noticed how upset you were over your current situation with Natasha.

It’s been a mere four days since everything happened and you’ve genuinely felt lost without the redhead. And while your friends have been giving you all the love and support you could ask for, it didn’t fill the void Natasha’s absence at created.

Steve’s free hand reaches across the table and squeezes your shoulder,“ y/n it’s going to be okay.”

“Is it though?” A sigh leaves your lips,“ how okay can it be if I’ve hurt someone I love?”

Due to you having felt your love for Natasha for a minute now, the words are spoken casually. As if this wasn’t the first time you’d said them. But Steve and Bucky know that this is in fact the first time you have.

Which makes their shock become written on their faces. Brows raised, jaws dropped, and eyes on you.

Looking up, you notice their expressions.“ What?”

“You love her?” Bucky asks.

Que your shock. Not at knowing but at saying.

“I- wh-” the groan you let out earns frowns from the few people scattered about the coffee shop, and burying your face in your hands makes your friends sigh.

“Just, talk to her.” Bucky shrugs, not sure what else to say.

Gaze rising to him through your fingers, you reply,“ I can’t. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” You sit up straight,“ and she has a right. I preached honesty in all of our sessions and our first date just to be lying to her the whole time. I’m the biggest hypocrite.”

Steve nods,“ I don’t think you did it to hurt her. And I think Natasha knows that as well. But trusting someone- its-” the blonde starts off strong but seems to lose his words.

Bucky is the one that continues,“ when you trust someone and they lie to you it fucking hurts. Regardless of their intentions. So give her time.”

You nod.

True to Bucky’s suggestion. Time is exactly what Natasha needed. Less time than you’d expect.

In fact she comes to you the next day.

Your legs hand over the back of the couch, fingers brushing the soft rug as you hang upside down. Across from you, Carol sits in your chair petting Goose.

“I’m just saying, talking about your missions to space would help. Not even in an “address your traumas” way just in general.” You tell your friend.

A low laugh sounds from the blonde,“ I talk about my missions all the time. Maria and Monica love my space missions.”

“Are you being completely honest with them when you talk about it?”

Her frown answers that for you. But before she can verbally reply, your office door opens.

Glancing over, you see the ex-assassin standing in the doorway. Green eyes flicking from Carol to you. And as quickly as possible you scramble to stand from the couch, damn near kneeing yourself in the face as you do so.

Liho casually strolls in behind Natasha, eyeing the foreign cat in Carol’s lap.

“Natasha. Hi.”

Hi? You mentally scold yourself. Is that really the best I could do?

Carol is quick to excuse herself, holding Goose, and smiling softly at you before slipping past Natasha and down the hall.

The redhead gently closes the door behind her and looks at you silently.

“I’m real-”

“Am I still scheduled for a session?” Her eyebrow quirks.

You nod. Silently moving to sit in your chair across from her. You give a smile to Liho who purrs as you pet her and seconds later finds her way on to your desk(a place she always puts herself in when Natasha comes by).

It’s far too quiet for your liking but you know it’s best to let Natasha speak first. The last thing you want is to piss her off before she’s even spoken.

The woman gets comfortable on the couch, legs crossing, as she looks over at you.“ Doc what are your thoughts on hypocrisy?”

You breathe a humorless chuckle, mumbling an “I deserved that” before answering.“ I believe that hypocrisy is purely driven by self-interest. Most commonly, hypocrites go against their own morals because they feel that the personal benefits mean more than acting morally.”

She hums,“ you see. I have to ask because I’m currently in a situation with my girlfriend. She’s lied to me on a number of occasions even though she explicitly demanded my honesty throughout our relationship.”

“And, um, how does that make you feel?”

“Like-” she licks her lips, eyes diverting to the bookshelves,“ like maybe she lied to me because she doesn’t trust me. Which hurts, cause I’ve given her every reason to, despite my reservations.”

Bucky said it. She trusted you and you fucking hurt her.

“Do you think that’s the actual reason behind her lie?”

“Was it?” Her green eyes find your e/c ones again.

Taking a deep breath, letting your shoulders drop with the exhale, you scoot to the edge of your chair,“ I trust you with my life Natasha and I have since the moment you let me in. I just- I lied because I didn’t want you to think I was weak. Which is stupid I know, assuming just makes me look like an ass, but I guess I was projecting.”

Your words make her frown. Her head tilts in the slightest.“ Projecting how?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I do feel weak. And it’s been a pretty prominent feeling this past year than ever before. Which- I’m not blaming any of you but, just being here? Talking to all of you? It’s like most of you have dealt with all kinds of things your entire lives.

And then I take on a mere hour of those emotions and I feel like I can’t handle it. While part of me knows I can. Another part of me feels like I’m in over my head, thinking I can help you.”

Natasha watches you as you speak and she swears you look more vulnerable in this moment than you ever have(and that’s including when you told her about the judgement you received for your powers). And it breaks her heart to hear that you don’t see how strong you are.

Which she feels she should correct.

Standing, the woman rounds the table, and squats in front of you. She takes her hands in yours and tries to catch your eyes.“ Y/n you are far from weak. The fact that you’re even able to help us cope with our traumas is strong. To then take on those emotions yourself-” she trails off with pride swirling in her eyes.

Her admission is definitely soothing in the moment at least. But you’re suddenly reminded of how this started in the first place.

“My reasons for hiding it don’t make it better. I never should’ve lied to you, regardless of my insecurities.” Your eyes flicker away in uncertainty, before returning to those gorgeous green orbs.“ I- I love you Natasha and I’m sorry for making you questions your own trustworthiness. I also promise to never ever lie to you again, just, please, give me another chance.”

If she’s being honest you had her at I love you, but your promise makes it a million times better. And she trusts you to hold that promise.

Gently, she brushes a strand of hair from your face, and cups your cheek,“ you get one,” her serious expression morphs to a smile,“ mainly because I love you too.”

This takes the top spot for your favorite moments with Natasha, effectively knocking your first kiss and date to spots two and three.

Leaning forward, you cup Natasha’s cheek, and pull her into a kiss. For the first time you feel love communicated through the action. Perhaps it had been there before and you hadn’t noticed, either way you love it.

As does Natasha, possibly even more so, proven by the way she lifts up, deepening the kiss as she situates herself on your lap.

The woman’s legs rest either side of yours, effectively trapping you beneath her, as her tongue dances with yours.

Daring to go further, you trail away from her lips, taking in a deep breath before attaching yours to her neck and collarbone. If the tightening of her legs around you is anything to go based off of, she enjoys your actions.

So much so that an involuntary moan quietly escapes her as you gently suck a mark onto her skin.

When she pulls away, you think that’s the end of this, at least for now.

Natasha climbs off your lap and walks across the room to the door. The lock clicks with the twist of Natasha wrist, and she’s turning back to you with a dazed look in her eyes.

Holding your gaze, she slowly grasps the bottom of her shirt, and raises it above her head. Your heart pounds with every inch of skin that’s revealed to you.

Your eyes catch the scars littering her abdomen and you move without thinking. Walking over to the woman and running your fingers along a more noticeable one.

The pink, slightly puffy, skin makes it clear it’s completely healed. But you can only imagine the pained it’d caused when inflicted.

“You’re perfectly imperfect Miss Romanoff.” You whisper, lifting your eyes to hers.

It’s almost reeling to see the intensity in her green eyes.“ I love you.” She says for the second time and your heart beats that much faster.

“I love you too.”

The both of you seem to free fall into the passion of the moment. Hands make quick work of your clothing until it’s thrown around the room and your laid bare before each other.

Hovering above Natasha, you kiss from her now bruised neck to her chest, sucking a nipple into your mouth until it stands at attention. Only moving to the other after she’s moaned, her fingers curling into your hair.

She gives a pleasantly painful tug when you release her second breast with a quiet pop. And as your eyes meet, you kiss her again, simultaneously running your fingers through her folds.

Her arousal wraps around your fingers and you swallow her next moan with another kiss.

While the walls are soundproof, you aren’t interested in finding out just how much.

She bites her kiss swollen bottom lip as you ease a finger into her and press your thumb to her clit. You match each thrust of your fingers with a roll of your thumb.

All the while loving the sound of your name falling from Natasha’s lips like a prayer.

Not wanting to be the only one receiving such immense pleasure, the redhead snakes a hand between your legs and applies the perfect amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves.

A breathy cry of her name leaves your lips as your body jerks from the sudden touch and incredible feeling. You have little to no idea how that reaction effects Natasha, that is until another rush of arousal pushes against your fingers.

Then reminded of your goal, you focus on bringing Natasha to heavens gates, curling your fingers inside of her.

“F-fuck Y/n.”

Had her own fingers not been slipping into you, you definitely would have been smirking proudly.

The fluttering of her walls around your fingers gives away how close she is so you increase the speed in which your roll your thumb against her clit.

“Let go, I got you.” You assure her, the words a breath against her ear, and exactly what she needs to do so.

Clenching around you, her back arches, effectively pushing your chests together. She shuts her eyes and slowly grinds against your fingers to ride out her high.

A moment passes of you feeling her heart pound against her chest as she comes down. And the second she does, without warning, she curls her fingers inside you.

“You are going to give me the pleasure of watching you come undone aren’t you?” She asks, lips barely pecking yours.

But you nod, climbing higher and higher with each thrust.“ Y-yes.” You verbally answer.

Natasha takes delight in seeing your usually calm self seemingly so undone. A smirk tugs at her slips and she deliberately presses harder against your clit. That action timed with one seemingly deep thrust of her fingers sends you over.

Your girlfriend even more please to hear your curse her name in ecstasy.

Breathlessly, you rest your forehead against her shoulder. Catching her obvious action of licking you off her fingers.

Spurned on by her action, you pull her into a bruising kiss. Your hand gripping her hip as you press ever closer.

And you don’t even try to stop yourself from, once again, telling her,“ I love you.”

Earning a glorious laugh from the woman who then kisses you,“ I love you too.” And god you could hear those words forever and die happy.

* * * * * *

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers @wildhoney32 @criminallyhamilton @fayhar @nat-km-mh @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #prove me wrong #reader insert

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starlight-writes-stuff · 3 years

Note

hi again omg! im getting into the feral boys and i was hoping you could do some headcanons for them with a reader that has their period (but could you make it gender neutral if possible?) - ⚙️ anon

⚙️ anon ! hi ! i can absolutely do this , im sorry it took a long time . i genuinely ended up LOVING these , and i hope you do too !

AYO LOOK AT THESE : reader who gets a period , mentions of cramps , usage of tylenol / painkillers of that sort , very very very fluffy feral boys content . i luv them .

reblogs are always appreciated ! <3

dream :

would be incredibly worried :(

and unbelievably empathetic

he’s such a good fkn person in general ugh

“i don't know how it feels but i would imagine its … not good”

he would just want to keep you comfortable

“stay in bed, baby, i’ll bring [whatever] to you”

would go on pad/tampon runs for you

and wouldn’t be a pussy about it

“what size ? how heavy is your flow ?”

would call you while he was in the aisle to double check

and would get more than one box

“i know it fluctuates”

while he was out he would pick up some little gifts for you

just things to keep you comfortable

a blanket because “it looked soft”

some of your favorite chocolate

“did you know that chocolate produces endorphins ? which can help with cramps ?”

a little teddy bear

and would pick up some junk food for you

he’d move his stream to comfort you all night

“can i hold you ? will you still be comfortable ?”

would end up laying your head in his lap and running his hands through your hair

he’d do small , soothing actions until you fell asleep

and would be so still while you napped on him

clay would die if he woke you up

you’re his number one priority , and you need your rest

george :

sweet gogs would be . so concerned .

“... are you alright , my love ?”

would get pouty because you were irritated

but would understand

he tries his best to help you in anyway possible

brings you water and tylenol

and would make you a snack to go with it

“you have to take it with food so your body can process it , darling .”

purchases a heating pack to keep at his house

and genuinely just tries to keep you as comfortable as possible

picks you up bridal style

to transfer you from couch to bed

and would be SO upset when you whimpered in pain

“did i hurt you , baby ? are you okay ?”

you’d try to explain that it wasn’t him at all

just your body working against you

but would insist on nursing you

going as far to lift your water cup to your lips for you

“wanna make sure you’re taken care of , sweet thing .”

would bring you desserts and comfort foods

and would eat half

gogy would try to get you to nap

“your body is working so hard ! you need rest !”

and would be elATED when you fell asleep tucked against him

he’d run a hand up and down your back while you slept

trying to comfort you even in unconsciousness

sapnap :

trying his best

bless his little heart

would be incredibly concerned but very scared

not necessarily of you

but of you

wouldn't want to make you mad in any way , shape , or form

is worried that you’ll rip him to shreds

but is also v soft for you

doesn’t like seeing his s/o in pain :(

so he’d be very careful with you

won't give up his cuddles tho

would jump 10 feet into the air when you said “ow!” after he wrapped an arm around your lower tummy

apologizes incessantly

feels bad for the next week

would make you tea and warm drinks to help

and would diy a heat pack out of rice and a sock 😭

nick would NOT want to leave you alone

so he’d try to cook

and would do pretty well !!

would make you mac and cheese from the box

but it was so good

and would feed you oreos

he’d make you both milkshakes, too

karl :

nurse karl™ is on the case

he would be the BEST at taking care of you

would have an entire period kit at his place

and would carry tampons/pads in a bag in his backpack just in case

karl knows you inside and out

and has taken notes on what to do while you're on your cycle

stocks up on all your comfort foods the week before

makes sure you have plenty of supplies

he would make a movie lineup for the two of you to watch together

all cheesy rom coms and disney flicks

he’d sing all the songs to you

would make jokes about being your prince charming

karl would try to make you smile in any way he could

he would make you a comfy spot on the couch

with lots of pillows and blankets

“is it okay if i hold you ?”

would be s o gentle

barely touching you

“baby , i'm not made of glass”

“but i don't want to hurt you !”

would end up spooning

and karl would smother you with kisses

“gotta kiss it better >:(“

he’d keep you clothed in his big hoodies and sweatpants

and would make sure that you always had a warm towel when you got out of the shower

karl would run all the errands you usually did

and would bring flowers back from the store

quackity :

loml big q

god he would be so so so tender with u

he would go completley soft

because seeing you in pain just rips his heart to shreds

has the whole phantom pain thing

because yall are so fkn close w each other

wouldn’t leave you alone like ,,, ever

is so worried that you’re going to lose too much blood

you’ve tried to explain that your body regulates it to an extent

but he doesn’t care

he’d call your mom to ask for tips

and would follow all of them to a t , PLUS everything that he’d picked up on already

would make sure to keep you hydrated

gets gatorade “because you need electrolytes !”

he’d run you warm showers

and get you clean , soft clothes

would give you back and neck rubs to help with your muscles

alex would lay in bed with you all day

he’d love when you napped on his chest

would set timers on his phone for giving you ibuprofen

“every six hours , my love .”

alex would 100% get midol and be so proud that he found it

finally makes a trip to the store on like ,,,,,, day 3/4

would take a picture the pads/tampons you use so he gets the correct ones

and would buy multiple boxes so you’d never run out

is incredibly comforting

does small tasks for you

brushes your hair and tries his best to braid it back

would make you foods that are high in iron

“you need it , baby , it’s for your blood”

but would follow it up with hot chocolates for the both of you

he’d sing softly to you until you fell asleep in his arms

and would press little kisses to your head

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baoshengxianbei · 3 years

Text

happy secret santa @hero-of-dork!! I was your giftee and this is a very delayed tumblr post of the fic

chapter under cut (if you'd prefer to read it on tumblr)

Flakes drift down from the snow-white layer of clouds blanketing the sky, coming down in gentle white flurries and smothering Hateno in a blanket of pure, shimmering snow. Bare trees line the lane, branches dripping with dangerously sharp icicles that sway back and forth with the wind. Kids’ laughter rings, bright and loud, as they chase one another throughout the town, pelting each other with snowballs.

The town looks stunning, but Wind is far too concerned with burying himself in the frankly ridiculous pile of blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows that the chain had collected over several months to be able to appreciate the natural beauty of a Hyrule in the depths of winter.

“Come on, sailor, why aren’t you out there?” Legend teases, a smirk on his face as he leans over Wind’s shoulder to look outside, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hand. “Go play! I know the champion’s practically begging the old man to let them outside.”

Wind’s breath fogs up the window, and he idly drags a finger through the steam, wincing slightly as the glass squeaks beneath his strokes. “It’s way too cold to do anything right now, Vet,” he complains, resting his chin on his arms as he glares at the world behind the glass.

“Oh, please,” Wild gripes as he approaches them from behind, bundled up in his snowquill set. “The temperatures up in the Hebra Mountains are way worse than down here.”

Wind gives him a surprised look. “How do you survive?”

Wild winks and does an impromptu little twirl. “Never doubt the powers of fashion, Sailor,” he says, a grin painted on his face.

“I take it bargaining didn’t go too well?” Legend says, straightening up, hiding his expression behind his mug as he takes a long sip of his drink.

Wild crosses his arms and makes a little ‘hmph’, shaking his head. “No. Time says that it’s ‘not worth freezing to death’ or something like that.” He throws his arms in the air. “I don’t get it! We’ll be fine! As long as you have a warm outfit, you’re good to go. And I could even go up to Rito Village and get more snowquill sets! It’d be expensive, but worth it…” He grumbles. "He even went outside with Wars right after telling me that! Hypocrite."

"Well, I'm sure he had his reasons," Wind grumbles as he shifts into a sitting position, dragging his arms back into his blanket burrito. "But even if you manage to convince him to let you go outside, you should count me out.

“Aw, but why?” Wild pouts.

“Because it’s cold outside!” Wind gestures to the snowy wonderland through the window. “The last time I saw weather this bad, I wasn’t even on Outset!”

“But it’s fun! It’s so much fun, Wind. Legend, tell him!”

Legend blinks. “What? Why me?!”

“I don’t know! You’re the only other one here who likes snow!”

“I never said that!” Legend asserts. “The only times I’ve ever encountered snow were all in dungeons, so I don’t exactly have the best relationship with it. Once, I had to wear this ridiculous-looking parka to clear one, and it was just—“

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wild interrupts him. “Ridiculous-looking? Now I have to see this.”

“What? No, I’m not going to put it on!” Legend gestures to his tunic. “I’m perfectly fine wearing this!”

“You’re wearing shorts in the middle of Wild’s Hyrule, Vet,” Wind points out. “There is no way you’re fine.”

“I can handle a little cold, Sailor,” Legend bites, though he grips his mug just a little tighter and closer to his chest.

“Whatever you say, Leg,” Wild grins. “Anyways, where did you get the drink?” he asks, bending over to look at the hero’s cup.

“Hey, hey, hey, this is mine,” Legend says, raising the mug over his head, out of the champion’s reach. “And I got it from the rancher. If you want some, ask him.”

Wild gasps. “Twi has hot chocolate? He’s been holding out on me!” He points a finger at Wind and Legend both. “This is not over, you two. Vet, I’m getting you in that parka, and Sailor, you’re going outside today. Just you wait!” he says, before bounding off, likely to pester Twi about the drinks.

Wind shivers, drawing the blanket closer around himself. “There is no way I’m going outside today. Absolutely none. There is no chance, at all, that I will move from this spot.”

Legend laughs. “You know, he’s just going to come back and keep on bothering us, over and over and over again.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not leaving,” Wind grumbles. “Hylia herself could threaten to strike me down and I wouldn’t move.”

Legend hums in agreement as he takes another long, drawn-out swig from his hot chocolate, staring out at the flakes of snow gently drifting down from the sky.

Just then, a scream erupted from somewhere deeper inside the house.

Legend spat out his drink, staring in wide-eyed horror at the smaller hero, who’d fallen from his perch by the window. Wind matched his own terrified gaze, before shaking his head back and forth and waddling towards the stairs as fast as he could, leaving a trail of blankets behind him. Legend scoffs before sweeping the younger hero off his feet and into his arms, much to the sailor’s chagrin.

“Legend!! What are you doing?!” Wind shrieks as he wriggles, trying to escape the veteran’s grasp.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Legend shifts his grip. “I’m carrying you, so you don’t trip on one of your blankets and break a leg or something. And stop moving so much!!”

Wind pauses his struggling as he yanks a blanket down over his face, ears a bright scarlet red.

Legend jumps over the last couple of steps, letting out a small “oof” as his feet strike the ground, before unceremoniously dumping Wind on the ground, where the small hero pops up, hair a tangled squirrel’s nest, looking around frantically. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

Hyrule pops out of the little kitchen, raising an eyebrow at Wind. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine,” Legend says, grinning down at the pouting hero. “Anyways, what was that scream we just heard? Is anyone hurt?”

Hyrule shakes his head. “No, that was just Wild. He jumped Twi and they started wrestling.”

“And you’re not… concerned?” Wind asks.

Hyrule scratches his cheek. “…No? I mean, they’re not going to hurt each other that badly. I think.”

Legend groans. “Is this about the fucking hot chocolate?”

Hyrule nods. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, the Traveler’s legs were knocked out from under him, and he fell on his ass as the rancher and champion rolled out of the kitchen, (lightly) slapping and kicking and scratching. Wind went to help Hyrule up, while Legend rushed forwards, attempting to pry Wild off Twi, but to little avail.

“Come—on,” Legend gets out, through gritted teeth. “This is so—OW!”

Legend jumps back and shakes out his hand, looking over at the champion. “Did you just bite me?!”

Wild’s wolfish grin is quickly swallowed as the two bump into another wall, jostling the Great Fireblade that rests mounted on the wall. Legend winces as he watches the two roll around the room, Wild shrieking loudly and Twi’s dulcet tones beneath them, quieter but still really, really loud.

An insistent pounding sounds at the door, and Wind practically sprints over to open it.

Warriors bursts through the door, dropping everything he’s holding and rushing over to Wild, yanking him off the rancher. Wild struggles in his arms as Warriors turns to the peanut gallery.

“What is happening?!” Wars bites out as he shifts his grip to keep hold of the wriggling teenager in his arms.

“Twi won’t tell me where he stashed his hot chocolate!” Wild pouts, sagging in Wars’ grip and crossing his arms.

“Because I know that you always wreak absolute havoc every time you so much as smell sugar!” Twilight hisses, though there’s no real fury behind it. “Last time I let you have any sugar, you vibrated so much you fell off a cliff!”

“It was a low cliff!! Like 10 feet!!” Wild retorts.

“You still fell!!”

“Okay,” Warriors hefts Wild into a bridal carry. “Settle down there, champ.”

“No!” Wild twists and turns in his grip, before landing harshly on the ground.

He gets up, wincing as he bends over, rubbing his back. “Ouch. Now I know how the old man feels all the time.”

Wind giggles as Wild straightens up and advances on Twilight, standing as close as he can to the older hero, crossing his arms and scrunching his nose up at him. Twilight, in an apt display of maturity, scrunches his own nose back at him, and the two stand like that for a while, seemingly at an impasse.

Time walks in the door, carrying an armload of materials in his hands and looking disdainfully at the pile of things that Warriors had dropped in his haste, slowly dragging his gaze from the food to the aforementioned hero.

Wars held his hands up. “Hey, don’t look at me. I was just trying to stop them.” He points at Wild and Twi.

“And what were you doing that was worth breaking…” Time counts. “About a dozen eggs?”

“Twi wouldn’t tell me where his hot chocolate was,” Wild says, not breaking eye contact with Twilight.

Twilight narrowed his eyes. “For good reasons.”

The tension between the two steadily rises as their faces inch closer together, and everyone can tell they’re about 10 seconds away from jumping each other again.

Wind wriggles in between the two, pushing them apart to make room for himself.

“Before you guys wreck Wild’s house again,” Wind says, “I have an idea.”

- fin. chapter -

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #my writing #lu wind #lu legend #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu time #mild swearing #minor violence

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9.3k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, mentions of explicit sexual content, mentions of blood. the results of the fan favourite vote poll are at the end of this chapter.

banner designer @jamaisjoons | thank you sfhs babies i love you 3000

ELIMINATION

On the seventh Day of every Week in the game, Y/n’s elimination vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the Fan Favourite vote, which has already happened.

Vote closed. Thank you for participating!

DAY FOURTEEN

There’s something exciting and indulgent about sitting apart from Taehyung and Jimin, yet sharing secret glances and muffled smiles.

You’d had to leave Taehyung’s room at different times, you and Jimin sneaking back to your respective rooms to change out of his clothes so it didn’t look odd.

As the eight of you gather in the lounge, sleepily curled up with mugs of coffee or lying back against the couch for a few more moments of peace, the familiar faces of the others send a pang of guilt through you. Like you were lying to them. Omission is a type of lie, you suppose, but you try and smother the feeling. You��re allowed to be selfish.

Especially when it made Taehyung and Jimin look so happy.

Taehyung, who was almost always cheerful much like the puppy you saw last night, now looks like he can’t even contain it, his toes wiggling and eyes gleaming. Jimin, who on the other hand tended to be a little stiff and wary during these meetings, seemed more at ease than he’s ever been in front of everyone.

Could the others really blame you for wanting to see them happy?

You bite down hard on your tongue as Sejin arrives, the final piece in the puzzle. Maybe they could. You count your lucky blessings you don’t have to pick a favourite as well as someone to eliminate. Staying objective and making a decision tomorrow would be hard enough.

“Are we all ready?” Sejin checks, consulting with his watch to ensure it was in fact nine on the dot.

Catching everyone off guard, it’s Jungkook that speaks up, sitting beside you with crossed legs. “Ready, PD!”

The rest of you go still for a moment of surprised silence. When was the last time Jungkook had sounded that chipper? You’d found it strange when, being only the third one downstairs after you and Jin, Jungkook had neglected the last empty couch in favour of sitting beside you. Still half asleep, he’d exchanged pleasantries and basically face-planted into a cup of hot chocolate, inhaling the steam like his life depended on it.

Now, though, he seems more alert than most of you, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he waited for the meeting to start.

As you glance around, everyone seems equally shocked and relieved, except Jin, who just smiles quietly. You send the eldest a questioning gaze, but he just shrugs.

“Alright, today we just need to cover the prompts, Y/n’s Bangasm Bomb, and then we’ll finish off with the audience vote for fan favourite. Sound good?”

At the mention of fan favourite, Jungkook straightens up, knee jiggling. Your heart goes out to him. Not only had he had a rough time lately, but he put so much effort in to his prompt, and you can’t help but hope he gets it. He could use some cheering up, though he seemed cheerful again all on his own. “I’ll cross my fingers for you, Doctor Jeon,” you promise with a soft smile.

He glances back at you, eyes glittering. “You will?”

“Of course.” Out of the corner of your vision, you feel two sets of eyes on you. “You did well.”

He wrings his hands, gaze dropping. “I wasn’t even top three last week.”

You shrug lightly. “Then you’ll be most improved.”

When he grins, teeth poking out cutely, your shoulders drop in relief. “If I win, I’ll take you somewhere really fun, I promise!”

“Alright,” Sejin cuts in, breaking off your conversation, “our theme was dynamics and roleplay. Just like with last week, we’ll go through each of the guys and get Y/n to guess. Should be pretty easy. And we’ll see if anyone will be taking over the bunkrooms. Namjoon and Hoseok, you’ll be returning to your rooms tonight unless you failed your prompt again.”

Namjoon and Hoseok, squished up on either side of Taehyung, lean over him to high-five after the older one cheers.

“I’ll miss it,” Hoseok confesses, “but I missed my own bed even more. Namjoon; you’re welcome for a sleepover anytime.”

“A sleepover sounds fun,” Taehyung answers quietly, but Hoseok trills and cups his cheeks, inviting him too.

Across the other side, to the left of Jin and Yoongi, Jimin stiffens and instinctively sends you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part, but of course you can’t say anything in front of everyone.

Instead, you give a minute shrug and lean back. Taehyung had already spent the past two weeks being relatively free with his affections, and it seems unfair to get upset by it now. Especially when you were still having sex with other people.

Like a bucket of cold water down your back, the decision you made last night comes into clarity. You couldn’t go out on dates. You couldn’t really kiss or hold hands in front of the others lest they find out. And you couldn’t even be faithful to them. What exactly made declaring your feelings and choosing to be together any different from how you were before?

Before you get too deep into your thoughts, you notice the room has gone silent, everyone staring at you. “Hm? Sorry?”

Sejin’s pointing to Jin expectantly. “Could you state your guess for what Seokjin’s prompt was, Y/n?”

Jin’s face is weirdly unreadable, eyes not really focusing on yours. You struggle to process enough to recall the answer. “Um, poolboy.”

Jin remains silent, making Sejin cough awkwardly. “Yes, poolboy and client was his prompt. Congratulations, Seokjin, you didn’t explicitly tell Y/n your prompt and successfully completed it.”

On the other side of the room, Taehyung’s eyes fly wide, before his shoulders slump, blushing as Hoseok quietly teases him.

“Yoongi?”

You clear your throat, feeling weirdly strung-out, like your attention is in a million places at once. Get through the meeting, then you can chat with Min and Tae. Just stay focussed. “Yoongi was, like, an animal?”

“Predator and prey,” Yoongi explains smoothly, finally starting to look a little less zombie-like. “And I made sure we were in view of the cameras outside. The ones by the gazebo.”

Sejin nods, choosing to sit on the coffee table instead of just standing in front of you all. “Right. Congratulations, Yoongi, you also successfully completed your prompt within the rules. Jimin’s one?”

You’re pretty sure every person in this room could guess his without a second thought. “Stripper.”

Jimin blows you a teasing kiss with a wink, and you try not to look too endeared, heart leaping at the soft look that hides behind his flirty act. “I hope you all enjoyed the show.”

Beside you, Jungkook goes oddly stiff, face falling. But before you can ask him about it, he’s taking a deep breath and putting on a smile again, albeit a smaller one. You frown as Sejin congratulates Jimin before turning to your couch and indicating it’s Jungkook’s turn.

“Doctor and patient,” you hear yourself answer easily, but you find yourself still worried about him, remembering what he said about Jimin yesterday. Maybe he wasn’t as cheery as he was making himself seem today.

A similar look of worry flickers across Jimin’s face at Jungkook’s odd response, and you decide that once the meeting is done, you’ll ask Jungkook about it. Maybe get him to talk to you privately, or everyone so you’re all on the same page. Anything so that you can resolve the strange upset Jungkook seems to have.

“...his prompt. Now, Namjoon?”

“Husband and wife,” you offer up reflexively, grateful of the warm albeit shy smile Namjoon sends you in response.

“Now, Namjoon and Y/n, I’m aware you spent a significant amount of time together in the rec room. Of course, you can retain your privacy, but I do need to ask if Namjoon explicitly told Y/n his prompt in there.”

Looking like a teacher’s pet being told off, Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t!”

Sejin lets out a quick laugh, holding a calming hand up. “That’s fine, that’s all I needed. Congratulations, Namjoon, you’re out of the bunkrooms.”

Taehyung looks nervous when Sejin’s stare rests on him. His eyes keep darting around to the other men like he’s waiting for their reactions. When Sejin asks you to guess the prompt, you hesitate. Something about how uncomfortable he looks gives you pause. “She doesn’t have to guess,” Taehyung offers up, “and you don’t have to say it. I already know I lost.”

Sejin gives him a look of sympathy. “The editing team did catch you telling Y/n directly which means you’ll have to stay in the bunks for next week, but unfortunately the nature of these meetings does require each prompt to be revealed to the group.”

You can see the puppy behind Taehyung’s eyes as he rounds them, pouting up at Sejin. “Really?”

“We don’t have to give details,” Sejin offers up shortly. “And none of these prompts will ever be things anyone has on their hard limits list, so please don’t think anyone hear will be in any position to judge it.”

This seems to ease Taehyung’s worry significantly. “Pet and owner,” Taehyung offers up shortly. “And I lost because I told Y/n. Time for Hoseok.”

Even as your heart aches to jump up and go to him, Jimin also shifting in his seat restlessly, you see Hoseok quietly wrap a hand around Taehyung’s elbow and Namjoon rest his head tentatively on Tae’s shoulder. You settle back, forcing yourself to remember you and Jimin aren’t the only ones that care for Taehyung.

Sejin clears his throat and gestures to Hoseok. “Lucky last, I suppose. What’s your guess, Y/n?”

You think back to Monday night. Hoseok teasing you throughout the day and then tying you up at night in the prettiest ropes, feeling entirely under his control. You’d called him Master. “Master and sss….sub?”

Hoseok smiles sweetly, his voice honeyed. “Almost. You and Jungkook were my pretty little slaves, princess.”

In perfect synchronisation, the others turn their heads around to you and Jungkook, sharing a couch. “I remember now,” you state weakly as Jungkook shifts on his spot.

Sejin looks distinctly uncomfortable with the sudden turn, wincing at Hoseok. “Well, congratulations because you also successfully completed your prompt. Anyways, that’s that done, time for the Bangasm Bomb. As you all probably recall,” Sejin explains, sliding off his glasses and wiping the lenses with his shirt as he goes, “the requirement was that Y/n had to stay in a different bed every night otherwise she’d be in the bunkroom. Luckily, she managed to do so, so Taehyung is the only one required to stay there.”

Taehyung shrinks, bottom lip sticking out in disappointment and Jimin watches him, stricken. Against your better judgement, you call out to Sejin. “But are we able to voluntarily go there?”

Sejin shrugs. “Sure, you already did so once this week. No rules against it.”

Jimin brightens up, but before he can say anything, Hoseok’s cheering, jostling Tae’s side. “Guess the sleepover will be back in the bunkroom, Tae!” Across the side of the room, Jimin visibly holds back his irritation.

“Can we do the audience favourite now?” Jungkook pipes up in a hopeful voice.

“Oh, of course.” Sejin fumbles to slide his glasses back on, lenses still smudged at the bottom, and clears his throat dramatically. “Alright, so I’ll just say the top three again. Third place this week was Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen comically as he croaks out a, “Really?”

“Ah, I’m so proud,” Hoseok croons, reaching across Taehyung to pat Namjoon’s knee enthusiastically. “Young grasshopper learnt well.”

Namjoon still seems in disbelief, letting out a stilted laugh. “Wow, I- Goodness, that’s so nice of them!”

Beside you, Jungkook’s practically vibrating with nervous energy. He wasn’t even in the top three last time, and you can tell he’s feeling the pressure. Yoongi seems unbothered, even as his eyes keenly focus on Sejin; Jin waits patiently, not looking like he’s expecting anything. Jimin’s more focused on Taehyung than the announcement, his eyes locked onto the boy that’s sandwiched between Namjoon and Hoseok as they celebrate. Hoseok looks relatively uncaring about the favourite, lips still spread in a heart-shaped grin at Namjoon’s victory like it’s his own.

“Second place,” Sejin continues, “was Jungkook.”

You hear and feel his reaction rather than see it. Hear the exhale as he sinks, a mix of relief and disappointment making his frame go lax on the couch. Leaning over, you send him a warm smile. “Good job, Kook, you did really well.”

“Who’s number one?” he asks instead, leaning forward with his legs tucked up under him.

Sejin gives a small smile. “The highest number of votes this week went to Yoongi.”

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook questions quietly, but it’s drowned out by Hoseok’s excited woop and chirpy laughter as Yoongi’s mouth drops open, doing a double take at the news.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi exclaims, a disbelieving grin spreading across his face as Jin rubs his shoulders and Jimin congratulates him lowly. “Holy shit, who would’ve guessed?” His eyes find you suddenly, brightening with realisation. “I get to take you out tonight,” he declares.

A shock of thrill runs through you at all the possibilities of some private time with the enigmatic doctor, but you can’t help but glance over, wary of Tae and Jimin’s reactions. Though Jimin just looks a little stiff, Taehyung’s eyes are on you, sullen. Rather than jealous, it seems more like he’s disappointed he couldn’t be the one to take you out. It’s a relief he isn’t mad, but it only increases the unsettled feeling in your heart. You, Taehyung and Jimin sorely needed to talk.

“Well, then,” Sejin interrupts, breaking you out of your daze, “that’s your Sunday meeting, I’ll see you all back here tomorrow for elimination.”

Like clockwork, the seven guys turn their heads to look at you, even as Sejin bids you farewell and leaves out the front door.

“Do you know who you’re voting out?” Jin asks with a complete lack of tact, an easy smile hiding the concern in his eyes.

You cough awkwardly. “I have no clue,” you answer honestly. “I’m just… trying not to think about it until I really have to, you know? I still don’t want to vote out any of you.”

“That reminds me,” Jin speaks up, though he states it awkwardly, almost sounding rehearsed, “I think we all need to have a group talk. Set some things straight.”

Jungkook recoils like the comment was directed at him, letting out a light huff. “Can’t this wait?”

Yoongi grimaces. “With all due respect, Jungkookie, I think it would be best to just have a chat now and sort this out. If the therapist thinks we need to talk, he’s probably right.”

“It’s not like it’s urgent,” the youngest rebutts, “let’s just do it some other time.”

Jin sucks in a breath. “We’re all sitting here now, Jungkook, and clearing the air. Unless you want to go back to feeling uncomfortable.”

Jungkook’s eyes cast towards the ceiling like he can’t believe he’s stuck here. “Oh my god! I already spoke to you, just pass it on!”

“You know I can’t do that, Jungkook,” Jin says calmly, even as his eyes flare in ire. “We want you to be happy, and I’m sure you’re not the only one that has been struggling, and if we-”

“If you want me to be happy, fucking let me leave, Jesus,” Jungkook swears, and you flinch when he suddenly stands, rushing away quickly. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”

“Done?” Jin asks, looking completely lost. “Goodness, that kid gets angry at everything these days.”

“A talk does sound really helpful, Jin-hyung,” Namjoon offers up. “If you want, we can hang around and wait for Jungkook.”

Jin lets out a light sigh, smiling gratefully. “I figure it’ll be good for us. Hopefully. I just worry about everyone, you know? Just because this is a reality show doesn’t mean we need to be always fighting and throwing drinks in people’s faces and stuff. We need to communicate like adults.”

Yoongi frowns. “You don’t need to take all that burden on yourself, hyung. I’m sure they didn’t teach you to handle this kind of situation in your training.”

Jin goes to reply, but the moment his mouth opens, words are cut off by a dual ding, two phones going off.

You glance over to where Taehyung and Namjoon both instinctively check their phones, faces falling almost simultaneously.

“Oh,” Taehyung says shortly, face falling. “I should’ve remembered.”

“What is it?” Jin asks with knitted brows.

“It’s his stream,” Namjoon explains guiltily, “he normally begins it earlier than this, so he was probably trying to leave so he could start.”

“Why didn’t he just-?” Jin exhales roughly, Yoongi’s hand falling to his shoulder to anchor him. “Whatever. He’s angry now, I guess, let’s just wait for him to finish and once he goes offline someone can text him and ask him to come down. Is everyone fine with that?”

Although no one protests, the air is significantly stiff with tension; Yoongi makes another round of coffees, Taehyung opens the stream and watches it with the volume turned muted, biting at his fingernail. It feels like such a departure from the same time last week, and being tuned in just feels even more invasive than last time.

“The people in the comments aren’t happy about him being late,” Taehyung notes nervously. “He looks upset.”

“I don’t think you should be watching,” Namjoon admits, shifting in his seat as he tries to avoid looking at the screen. “Doesn’t it feel strange to you?”

“I’m just making sure he’s okay,” Taehyung insists hollowly, eyes locked onto it. “He’s trying to touch himself but he’s not getting ha-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Yoongi spits harshly, returning with four cups of coffee balanced precariously in his grip. “Watch it if you want, but respect that we’re choosing not to.”

Taehyung frowns, but doesn’t protest, returning silently to the screen. Alone on your couch, you take a cup of coffee from Yoongi’s outstretched hands and cradle the cup, feeling the warmth seep into your bones, your heart still as cold as if it were frozen in ice.

True to Yoongi’s command, Taehyung stays silent as he watches, and the entire room sits in uncomfortable quiet until, what can only be fifteen or twenty minutes later, Taehyung lets out a defeated sigh and locks his phone, setting it on the arm of the couch.

The implication is clear, and Jin sets his jaw, looking determined albeit regretful. “Okay, can someone text Jungkook? Let’s get this over with. Just remember it’s for the best.”

Though it seems like even Jin himself is unsure of that, everyone waiting in dread as Taehyung sends him a text, and he comes down the stairs a few minutes later, cheeks flexed with irritation.

You fight the urge to reach out to him when he collapses onto the couch beside you, hair messy but clean and in the same casual clothes as earlier. He seems restless and volatile, and you can’t help but wish the lot of you weren’t having this talk now, or wish you could just jump forward in time to when everyone was happy and alright again.

“Go on, then,” Jungkook starts, snapping the silence. His arms are crossed tightly and eyes piercing as they glare at Jin. “Start the group therapy.”

Though he’s been silent for a while now, Jimin lets out a tired groan. “Fucking hell, Jungkook, he’s trying to help you! Seeing you be upset makes us feel terrible.”

Jungkook stiffens, and you can just about feel the heat radiating off his body as he fires up. “Oh, I’m sorry, next time I’ll just be miserable in private!”

Jin looks stricken, rubbing at his temple. “Jungkook, you said you were going to try and seek out the things that made you happy.”

“And you said you weren’t going to reveal what I said to you in confidence,” Jungkook replies shortly, but before Jin can protest, he’s continuing, voice strained. “But- I do want to try and make things better. I’m sorry; I’m really stressed out and it’s frustrating not being able to leave this place. I thought if I got fan favourite I’d at least get a break.”

The rest of you fall silent for a moment. Your eyes sting, so you blink to ease the ache. “We understand. We want you to be happy. Can we all agree to try our best to just stay chill and talk this through?”

As the others nod, Jungkook scoots back like he’s trying to bury himself into the corner of the couch. “But talk what through? Do you not realise how shitty it feels having all of you sitting me down for an intervention right now? I don’t know whether to be offended or humiliated.”

Taehyung’s face crumples violently, like he’s about to cry. Hoseok, unusually solemn, clears his throat lightly as he pats Tae’s back. “JK, it’s not all of us gathering to dunk on you. I for one know that there are things I’d like to get off my chest. Things that bother me and stuff. I think if we all just front up to what we’re struggling with then we can work through these issues together. But it’s gotta be all of us. If we want to be happy here.”

Jin sends Hoseok a grateful look, sitting back in his seat when Jungkook begins nodding. “I can do that,” Jungkook agrees in a small voice. “Just… someone else can start.”

The concept of owning up about your feelings is clearly as paralysing to the others as it is to you. Everyone falls silent, looking around at each other’s faces and waiting for someone else to speak up. A thread of worry niggles in the back of your brain that Taehyung or Jimin would confess your closeness, bursting the bubble that was already so fragile.

In the end, it’s Yoongi that chooses to go first, heaving a great sigh to brace himself. “If I’m perfectly honest,” Yoongi admits, “I’m a little concerned that we’re going to be cornered into conflict no matter how much we avoid it. As nice as the producers are-” he pauses to glare at one of the cameras filming the interaction with an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, “this is a reality show and reality shows are founded on drama. And look how much effort it took to get us to sit down and actually talk to each other? It would’ve been easier in some respects to just get angry and hateful and fight every other day, and I don’t think everyone is as aware of that as hyung and I are.”

Jungkook swallows. “I do worry about that, too,” he reveals. “I mean, not in the same way, but… If we wanted to, we could just all hate each other and only interact when we had to and then never speak again when we all leave. Which is weird because for now, we can’t go anywhere. We’re all gonna be really close and then we’ll just go our separate ways. And I don’t know what to do about it… If that makes sense.”

“But you did that exact same thing to us,” Jimin protests. “If you’re scared of us all acting like strangers then why push us away?”

Jungkook frowns stiffly. “That’s what you did at the start!”

“And it sucked,” Jimin retorts immediately. “It felt awful seeing everyone socialise and feeling like I had to stay out of it to protect myself. That’s why I’m not acting like a dick anymore.”

“Well, that’s up for debate,” Hoseok quips with a scoff.

Jimin sends him a withering glare, but Jungkook pays no mind to Hoseok’s remark, eyes still on the blue-haired man. “Everyone else was ignoring me anyway!” His voice is brittle, powered only by his frustration, and it feels like a pot ready to boil over. “Yoongi and Jin always do their own thing in the kitchen and never like me helping out, Namjoon and Hoseok have their whole teacher-student thing going on, and the only people my age are so up each other’s asses that they don’t even look at me half the time! Y/n has six other guys to sleep with so it’s not like I can even hang out with her that much. Everyone’s paired up and left me out of it but you all act like you haven’t. And then it’s all, ‘oh, why is Jungkook all grouchy?’ like I’m just making your lives difficult or something.”

Jimin winces. “We never tried to-”

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t try to, you did! You and Tae fucking drool over each other all day long and even when I try and- and- talk to either of you, it’s clear that you’re just thinking about the other person.” Jungkook stands suddenly, whirling around to face Taehyung. “I thought that day in the confessional shed, Tae, when you said it wasn’t just Y/n… I thought you were talking about me. I thought we were having a moment, you know, and then it turns out it was just Jimin. It’s always Jimin.”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” Jimin cuts in, “he can’t help his feelings.”

Taehyung sends Jimin a confused look hastily before turning back to Jungkook. “Kookie, I’m really sorry. I don’t want to exclude you anymore. I’ll do better.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologise, Tae,” Jin pipes up tiredly, and a strangled cry comes from Jungkook’s throat, the boy almost hysterical.

“Why do you want so badly for no one to be on my side, Seokjin?”

“God, it isn’t about that-”

Jungkook seems borderline hysterical, bottom lip trembling violently as he points at the eldest. “Well, what is it about? You act so fucking high and mighty, Jin, yet you’re in the same fucking situation as me.”

Your eyes widen as Jungkook turns to you, knees almost bumping yours with how close he’s standing. Behind him, Jin makes a low noise of warning. “Don’t, Jungkook…”

Jungkook’s eyes are wild, two points of red on his cheeks. “Jin has feelings for you but he won’t say anything because he thinks you just see it as sex. And he has the fucking audacity to try and give me advice on my feelings for-”

“Jeon Jungkook!” Jin bellows, standing too. Beside him, Yoongi tugs at his wrist, but the eldest shakes it off. “You have no right to-”

You’ve had enough of sitting silently, wincing at Jin’s volume, the therapist so far from the pillar of emotional stability he usually was. “Just let him get it out, Jin, he’s frustrated.”

Jungkook scoffs even as Jin shakes his head in disapproval. “Are you serious?” Jungkook asks you incredulously. “I tell you Jin has feelings for you and you’re still trying to suck up to me?”

You reel back, brows knitted. “I’m defending you, Jungkook.”

“I don’t want you to fucking defend me, Y/n, I’ve had enough of you leading everyone on and then not returning anything. You have all the power here and you just toy with us and act all innocent.”

“What are you talking about?” you cry, throat aching with the effort it takes to keep your voice steady.

Jungkook’s eyes gleam, unshed tears reflecting the light. “Jin-hyung tries to be romantic and you tell him it’s just a scene to you, instead of just doing Namjoon’s prompt you take his virginity like it’s a 90s romcom, making it “special” for him. You want every one of us to fall for you so that you can get fawned over by seven hot guys, but you aren’t willing to take any of the responsibility that comes with it. You act like things are so hard for you having to choose, but you’re breaking our fucking hearts doing it!”

You open your mouth to retort, but a crashing wave of guilt overtakes you, and your cheeks are wet before you even realise you’re crying. Intentional or not, you rue all the times you complained about elimination, knowing that the guys must have been feeling so much worse. “I’m so sorry, Kook,” you make out, covering your nose and mouth with a hand to try and contain yourself.

From the other side of the room, it’s Namjoon that speaks up next, voice flat and reserved. It’s a stark contrast to the fire in Jungkook’s voice, but he looks no less affected by everything. “That’s not fair at all,” he says shortly, “Y/n isn’t in charge of our feelings any more than we are, and you don’t have any right to judge her for what I chose. I was the one who wanted my first time to be special, Kook.”

Namjoon’s low volume seems to influence Jungkook, taking his noise level down a notch. The words just hurt more. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here then, Namjoon. This isn’t where you come to have your cherry popped by a nice, young lady you can bring home to your parents.”

“Oh, my god,” Hoseok exclaims with a groan, “are we seriously just complaining about everyone now? Is that what this is? Good going, Jin, really fucking helpful.”

A whirl of dread rushes through you as the anger continues to flit around the room in an ugly cloud, everyone having a bone to pick with each other. Jin makes a noise of outrage, hissing back at Hoseok when he speaks. “I don’t see you coming up with any suggestions. Do any of you have any fucking idea how hard it is to have everyone expecting you to magically solve their problems and shoulder their burdens and not a single one of them gives a shit about you?”

“That isn’t true,” you protest, immediately regretting drawing attention back to yourself.

Jin scoffs. “You haven’t said a fucking thing since finding out I have feelings for you. Wait, no; you haven’t said a fucking thing since I got upset with you on Tuesday. Did you really never think to ask even once how I was doing?”

Your excuse feels flat even before you say it. “I was waiting for you to-”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” he sings sarcastically. “Everybody waits for me to solve things and then complains when it’s not helpful enough,” Jin spits, glaring at Hoseok with the last few words.

A shuddering sob cuts into the silence that follow his words, and in unison you all turn to Taehyung, who has his face buried in Hoseok’s shoulder, Namjoon rubbing his back as his shoulders heave.

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, body twitching as he fights the urge to rush over, and instead raises his voice to address the room. “Alright; show’s over. This isn’t solving anything.”

“Why should you decide?” Jungkook cuts in immediately. “I’m miserable and you don’t care, Jin’s miserable and you don’t care, but the second it’s Taehyung…!”

Jimin rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “Why are you so bothered by it?”

Jungkook lets out a cry of frustration that sounds closer to a sob. “Because you’re taking him away from me! I can’t compete with you! Everybody’s obsessed with you, everybody wants your approval and you just drink it up, you narcissistic, selfish piece of shit!”

Around the room, everyone sucks in a wary breath, but Jimin’s already standing, features sharpened in anger. “Why are you acting like it’s my fault he has feelings for me? Maybe he doesn’t like you because you’re a whiny fucking brat who takes everything personally.”

“That isn’t true,” Taehyung hiccups out, “Jungkookie’s nice, Min. And you’re not selfish.”

Though the tension in the room just keeps rising and rising, you can see, behind Jimin’s standing figure, Yoongi sitting stiffly on the couch. He keeps glaring at the cameras expectantly, with one hand clutching his phone and the other latched onto Jin’s wrist, keeping him from interfering further. The two exchange words quietly, shaking their heads in disapproval.

On the more emotional side of the room, Hoseok holds Taehyung closely, soothing him as Namjoon looks up hesitantly at the others. “I really think we should stop, guys…”

“Let’s all take a chill pill,” Hoseok quips as Taehyung’s tears stain his shirt.

Jimin lets out a noise of disgust. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Hoseok.”

“Is no one gonna stop this?” Namjoon asks hesitantly, glancing up at the cameras.

“What did I say?” Yoongi retorts rhetorically. “They aren’t going to interfere. They know this drama gives their show more views.”

“Good for Jimin,” Jungkook states petulantly, “the more views he gets, the better he feels.”

“Coming from you,” Jimin says over the sound of Yoongi clicking his tongue in exasperation. “Maybe the reason you hate me so much is because you and I are the exact same, Jungkook, I just do it better.”

“Again with your superiority complex,” Jungkook huffs. “How long until everyone here gets sick of you, Jimin? How long until the novelty wears off and you’re left alone on your high horse again, huh?”

Jimin flinches like he’s been hit, but takes an accusing step closer to Jungkook. Around them, everyone shrinks back in their seats, Hoseok shielding Taehyung’s ears and Yoongi and Jin with a phone sandwiched between their cheeks as they make a call. Namjoon’s begun to cry, too, but he hides his running nose with a sleeve, eyes wide and shining as they watch Jimin and Jungkook square off.

The two of them are a few steps apart, now, not even the coffee table dividing them. Jimin, although physically smaller than Jungkook, appears to tower over the other as his face darkens. “At least I’m good at my job, Jungkook. Why did you come down so soon? Blow your load too quickly like an amateur?” When it doesn’t gain any more reaction than Jungkook’s face twitching in annoyance, Jimin grins wickedly. “Or could baby not even get it up, huh? Take your dick away, you’re not much of anything, are you?”

Jungkook lunges before Jimin is even done speaking.

The thud of impact and grunt of rage from the youngest echoes through the room sickly as Jimin reels back, clutching at his nose. Already you can see the intense scarlet pooling between his fingers, dripping down as his eyes tear up with anger and pain.

The urge to jump in, do something, almost overwhelms you, but you feel yourself paralysed, shocked and barely able to process anything like it’s a bad nightmare.

On one side of Jungkook and Jimin, Taehyung wails, struggling in Hoseok and Namjoon’s hold as the two of them keep him from interfering. On the other side, Yoongi stands up in alarm, keeping his voice calm as he splays his palms. “Woah, woah, that’s enough now-”

Jimin pulls his hands away, spitting out the blood in his mouth even as more streams to fill out. “You little fucker,” he hisses. “If you broke my nose, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh. “Take your face away, you’re not much of anything, right?” he mocks.

Sensing things turning for the worst, Yoongi widens his eyes and jumps forward, but his hands just catch on empty air. Jimin’s already launched himself forward, taking Jungkook off-guard as he shoves him with balled fists, using the full weight of his body to send the other tripping backwards.

Jungkook curses when he lands harshly on the coffee table, empty and half-full cups of coffee flung off, some smashing directly under him. He rolls off, instinctively curling his body away from Jimin.

Passing Taehyung over to Namjoon, Hoseok leaps up to tug Jimin back as the man continues to step closer to Jungkook’s prone body. The moment he gets a hand on Jimin, however, he’s met with an elbow to the cheek, stumbling back from the impact.

For a moment, everyone goes silent. Jimin stares wide-eyed at the red mark quickly blooming on Hoseok’s cheekbone, the dom looking shocked as he rubs at it.

That second of inaction is all it takes for Jin and Yoongi to descend on Jimin at the same time, an arm firmly grasped by each man as they drag him backwards. Jimin doesn’t even fight it, though, a strange clarity and sorrow in his eyes, even brighter than the red that’s beginning to drip down to his shirt.

When Sejin bursts in and rushes over to Jungkook, it’s too late to really solve anything. The combative atmosphere has dissolved into the sick, defeated aftermath of Jimin and Jungkook’s physical alteration.

Still, he directs Jin and Yoongi to take Jimin upstairs to ‘cool off’, crouching beside Jungkook and making sure he’s okay before he tugs the boy gently up. As he leads the youngest in the opposite direction, towards the front door, Jungkook twists in his grip, trying to look back towards the group.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he wails, “please don’t hate me, I’m so so sorry!” Jungkook babbles on almost incoherently, feet stumbling as Sejin tries to shush him, pulling him out the door.

The moment the door clicks shut, it’s like the emotions of the past hour or so hit everyone at once. Namjoon has joined Taehyung in crying, Hoseok trying to rub their backs at once with a pained face, his cheek beginning to swell slightly.

With your shoulders and chest heaving violently as you sob - the silent tears finally finding their voice - you blink away your blurry vision and heave yourself off the couch. The three of them accept you with open, albeit shaky arms, and without any care about exposing your relationship, you wind your arms around Taehyung’s waist and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Namjoon asks in a small voice, fiddling with the damp sleeve of his shirt.

As if to answer his question, you hear hurried stomps, followed by Jimin bursting briefly into your line of sight, rushing down the stairs and out the front door without even a second glance.

Even the split-second view of him you got sparks worry in your chest. He’d clearly made a minimal attempt to wipe away most of the blood, but there were still dried smears below his nostrils and down his neck, and the shirt he’s wearing looks like something out of a horror movie, likely the material he used to clean himself up.

Jin and Yoongi follow down, but not fast enough, the blue-haired man long gone by then. The two of them seem hollowed, clearly taking this on as their own burden, as their fault - especially Jin, who’s knitting his brows harshly to stop his own tears.

Taehyung’s straightening up immediately, wrapped up in the middle of the three of you on the couch as he calls out to the older men. “What did he say? Is he okay? It’s not broken, is it? His nose?”

“Tae, easy,” Jin soothes, voice thick with emotion. “Yoongi took a look at it, it’s not broken, just tender. Jungkook sure does know how to swing a punch, though. Jimin was lucky.”

“Lucky,” the masseuse repeats weakly. “I don’t know if anything about this was lucky, hyung.”

“Can we even come back from this?” Namjoon asks slowly. “If we couldn’t talk like adults without fighting, then surely we’re doomed to just-”

“Nobody is doomed,” Jin assures. “If I’m perfectly honest, it seems like Jungkook was so wound up that there was nowhere for him to go except this. He probably just needed to totally vent and get it all out. I should’ve seen it coming, I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi grimaces, a hand on Jin’s shoulder. “None of this is your fault, hyung. We’re all complicit and we can all learn from this, but let’s not play the blame game. I just hope Jimin and Jungkook don’t entirely despise each other after this. I actually thought the kid liked- Anyway. Best thing we can do now is give them some time.”

You suck in a deep breath. That whole time, you’d just sat there, too shocked or too cowardly to move, you don’t even know which one. And although it’s too late, at least there’s one thing you can do to help, rather than just waiting passively. You gently detangle yourself from Taehyung, Hoseok and Namjoon and get up off the couch.

When Yoongi - the most composed of the bunch - sees you kneel on the carpet, beginning to pick up chips and fragments of the shattered cup, he lets out a noise of concern. “Y/n, you shouldn’t-”

In your haste to help, and your shakiness from crying, it’s no surprise that your fingers are clumsy, grabbing onto a shard too harshly.

You see the blood welling before you feel it, a hot line of pain that opens up across the base of your palm and spills onto the carpet. Dumbly, you just watch it collect in the fibres. You’re sure when the showrunners rented this house, they hadn’t anticipated blood to be the fluid they’d need to be cleaning up. But in just one day, so much had been shed needlessly.

You’d probably sit there forever, numb to your own injury were it not for Yoongi rushing forward, his fingers gently prying away the sharp shard of ceramic, holding your hand so tenderly as he inspects it.

“You’re coming to my bedroom, now. Can you stand?”

Yoongi’s voice feels far away, inconsequential. You hum just to feel your throat vibrate. Letting out a sigh laden with worry, Yoongi lifts you off the floor slowly, waiting to see if you can get your feet back under you.

It seems you can stand, though it takes all of your focus. The others are talking behind you, voices fretting, but they reach your ears like you’re underwater.

It’s less than a second of eternity before you’re blinking away the cotton fog, slowly coming back to your senses.

The first thing you feel is a freezing solid surface against your legs and back. As it seeps into your bones, it wakes you up, and you fight to focus your vision, watching the colours swim sickly.

“...hear me?” The shapes and shades begin to settle like silt on a lakebed, revealing Yoongi’s round face as it crumples in contained concern. “Y/n, can you hear me?”

“I h-hear you, yes,” you slur out, coughing away the remaining thickness in your throat.

“Good, okay, stay with me,” he instructs, crouched in front of you. “What day is it?”

The more you tune back in to your surroundings, you become aware of a second person behind Yoongi. Hoseok’s long legs sprawl gracefully in front of you as he sits on the toilet seat lid, but his head is dipped back onto the tile. He looks totally devoid of any of the positive energy you’re used to seeing on him.

“Everything’s ruined,” you mumble lowly.

Yoongi sucks in a breath and tilts your face back to him, his fingers cold like ice. “I need you to not worry about that for now and stay alert. What day of the week is it?”

“Sunday,” you give after a beat.

“Good, and what’s my name?”

You frown, shifting in his grasp. “I’m not concussed, you know.”

Yoongi huffs, his hands falling from your jaw. “I’m trying to keep you distracted, you brat. What’s my name?”

“Min Yoongi. Doctor Min Yoongi I gue- Wait, why do I need to be- ow!” You automatically try to jerk your hand close to you when a searing, stinging pain explodes your nerves, but an iron grip around your wrist keeps you steady.

Glancing down, you see Yoongi deftly wrapping a bandage around the base of your palm, winding it around your thumb. Below, the burning ache of antiseptic makes you wince. “It hurts,” you whine.

“Unlike poor Hoseok, you did this to yourself,” Yoongi replies shortly.

You pout. “Do you bully all your patients?”

“Only the ones I like.” Clearing his throat with a tinge of pink in his cheeks, Yoongi finishes bandaging your wound. “You’ll live.”

Despite yourself and the events of the past few hours, your lip twitches. “Reassuring.”

Before the doctor can respond, Hoseok lifts his head and blinks down at the two of you balefully. “He hit me,” he breathes in a sullen voice.

“Jimin?” Yoongi begins to pack up his little first aid kit, slumping back against the vanity you’re propped up on. “You got in the way.”

“He didn’t just push me away, he elbowed me right in the face,” Hoseok explains meaningfully. The thought seems to bother him more than you’d expect. “I didn’t think he actually hated me like that.”

“Isn’t that your whole shtick?” you ask tiredly. All of your annoyance, frustration, anger and even your guilt seems to have been sucked away by the chill of the tile, leaving you feeling strangely hollow and detached. “Two sparring doms trying to outdo each other?”

The truth is, Jimin didn’t like to speak or hear about Hoseok, and you hadn’t actually spent that much time with the professional dom to hear his side. Hoseok shrugs with a sigh. “I know he doesn’t like me. And I think he’s an arrogant prick, but I’d never hit him. I thought it was just a bit of fun to play up the rivalry, you know? I guess not to him.”

Yoongi looks grim. “I don’t think it’s wise for us to make any judgements about each other based on any of the events of the past six hours. We all got caught up in it, and I’m sure we’ll be able to forgive and move on.”

Hoseok nibbles at a thumbnail, unassured. “Do you think they’ll send them home for aggression?”

“Who knows?” Yoongi answers honestly. “But hey; you’ll get to be the winner of your rivalry and outlast Jimin. That’s something, isn’t it? You always wanted to.”

A shiver runs up your spine at the despairing look on Hoseok’s face. “Not like this,” are the only three words he makes out before a sob bubbles up his throat. He claps a hand over his mouth, but the dam has burst.

“Hobi,” you coo, shuffling forward on your knees to avoid putting pressure on your injured hand. He lets out a shuddering breath when you take his hand and link in your fingers, providing some physical comfort. “Let’s go downstairs, maybe make some dinner, and wait for Jimin and Jungkook to come back in. We’ll say our sorries and go to bed on a warmer note, yeah?”

Hoseok pauses, bites his lip to cease his tears, and nods shakily. “Yeah, let’s do that. Even if he hates me, I… I want to apologise if I’ve contributed in taking things too far.”

You hum, standing up. Though you wobble for a bit, you feel far more stable than before, and you use your links hands to tug Hoseok to his feet too. “And I want to apologise for not being fairer with you all. But we can’t do anything until Jungkook and Jimin are ready to come back.”

Yoongi pushes himself off the floor with a grunt. “And Hoseok, I’m getting you an icepack for that cheek of yours.”

Though Hoseok protests, five minutes passing sees you in the kitchen, Hoseok slumped at the breakfast bar with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a paper towel pressed to his face. You busy yourself with putting some rice on to cook and Yoongi and Jin work in their usual companionable silence, preparing a basic beef broth.

Both uninjured and not much help in the kitchen, Taehyung and Namjoon occupy their hands and minds with cleaning, following YouTube tutorials on how to get coffee and blood out of the carpet. They haven’t made all that much progress by the time dinner is served, but nobody comments on the dark patches, huddling on two couches in the lounge instead of the dining table. Though no one admits it, you need the extra physical comfort.

As you eat, you find yourself glancing back and forth between the two full bowls waiting on the kitchen countertop, and the front door. “Should someone go out and check on them?” you ask eventually, snapping the silence.

“I texted Sejin asking if they needed any medical attention,” Yoongi offers. “He just said no.”

“Minnie took his phone,” Taehyung said in a low voice. He’s barely touched his food, staring blankly into space. “But he only sent one text saying he was okay and he won’t reply to any of my other ones.”

“We wait,” Jin decides resolutely. “We’ll just sit here and wait for them to come back, and then hopefully we can all agree to put this past us. It was awful, yes, but I think it needed to happen. And hopefully nobody feels like they have anything weighing on their conscience anymore.”

Nobody protests and so, you wait.

The leftovers - god, when was the last time you’d had leftovers in this house? - are wrapped up and put in the fridge, the pots cleaned. As the sky dims, you turn the lights on inside. Nobody dares leave long enough to have a shower, but Taehyung darts upstairs to grab some blankets so that you can tuck up in two groups - Taehyung stays by your side with Hoseok, and the two eldest sandwich Namjoon.

Time passes stiffly, but it does pass. When the sun goes down, there are still only six of you in the house. Everyone’s so emotionally exhausted from the fight, and strung out from the anxiety of listening out for the door, that when it suddenly opens you all jump, Hoseok even cursing as he gets a fright.

The sudden spike of hope in your chest tanks violently when it’s Sejin that rounds the corner, a grim look on his face.

Taehyung frowns, his frame trembling as it leans into you. “Where are they?”

Sejin gestures back the way he came. “They’re in the production van.” Taehyung stands up immediately, but Sejin steps in front of him, hands splayed. “They just want to have some space, Taehyung,” he explains.

“There’s more space in here than there is in the van,” Taehyung protests weakly, even as he settles back down between you and Hoseok. “When are they gonna come back inside? It’s getting late.”

Sejin’s eyes flit around the six of you as he shifts, uncomfortable. “I’ve told them they’re welcome to stay the night there and use my bed. I came in to tell you that I’m going to go home now. Please don’t go out and disturb them. I’ve talked to them, but now they need some time to chat to each other and think about what they’d like to do.” The older man adjusts his glasses and gives you a pained smile. “Try and get some rest.”

A cold bolt of fear runs down your spine. “What they’d like to do?”

Taehyung swallows hard, hands beginning to tremble. “They aren’t going to leave the show, are they?”

Sejin’s mouth opens, closes, opens again. “Please try and get some rest,” he repeats, rather than answering. Taehyung shivers, and you feel the pressure of his forehead on your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist.

The producer turns to leave, making Yoongi frown. “Hey!” he calls sharply. Sejin turns around to face him. “I was meant to be taking Y/n out as my reward for fan favourite.”

You bite your lip anxiously. Truth be told, the thought had slipped your mind, and you don’t fancy leaving the others now, certainly not Taehyung who was clinging to you like a frightened puppy.

Sejin curses under his breath, rubbing his temple. “I’ll call an Uber.”

Yoongi steps back a little like the response surprises him. “No, I- This isn’t really the time, is it? I want to ask if we can do it tomorrow night instead, or something? I’m staying here with my friends tonight. We’re staying together.”

“That’s fine,” Sejin allows, a weak smile gracing his tired features before he gasps. “Oh! That reminds me…” He turns so that he’s addressing the group. “I don’t think anyone is in the emotional headspace for eliminations, so… I’m pushing the Monday meeting to Tuesday. Nine in the morning like usual. Just rest up tomorrow.”

“Good to hear you care now,” Yoongi mutters bitterly.

Sejin winces. “I think we’ve had enough conflict today, Yoongi-”

“Something you could have solved,” the doctor accuses harshly, “if you’d answered my texts or my calls and come down when we were asking you for help. I won’t forget that.”

“It’s done. There’s nothing more for me to do beyond apologising.”

“Which you haven’t done,” Yoongi fires back immediately.

“I’m sorry.” The producer gives a stiff wave of farewell to the group. “My girlfriend is waiting outside. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.”

When Sejin leaves the villa, the group heave out a unanimous sigh of exhaustion. It’s been a long day, but the thought of splitting apart, of being alone with your thoughts, is more than you can bear.

“Could we…” You swallow down the croakiness in your throat as everyone turns to look at you. “Could we maybe all stay down here tonight? Together?”

Namjoon’s eyes soften. “I’d like that. I could grab some blankets?”

Taehyung looks up. “I’ll get pillows.”

One by one, four of you run upstairs, Yoongi and Hoseok wanting to get into some more comfortable clothes for sleeping. Before you do the same, you turn to Jin.

He’s starting to push the coffee table towards the television, leaving more room in the middle of the couches. Stubbornly keeping himself busy.

“Jin,” you call out hesitantly, making him glance up in the midst of straightening the table against the wall. “I want to apologise. For relying on you for everything and not taking responsibility of the situation.”

His eyes soften, a pained smile. “You don’t have to.”

“I do and I am,” you counter, “I’m sorry. And for what it’s worth… Me calling it a scene, I… It wasn’t a grand statement. It was just a slip of the tongue. You mean more to me than just this game, than just sex, and I feel terrible that you’ve gone the whole week thinking that was the case.”

Behind you, you can hear footsteps descending the stairs. Jin glances up, then back at you quickly with a shake of his head. “To be honest, I’ve gotten over it. I’m fine; you don’t have to worry about me. I think it’s better just to keep it about sex.” He makes a vague gesture, indicating the day’s events. “Less messy.”

You blink, not expecting that. Had he gotten over being upset? Or gotten over his feelings for you? “Oh.” But Hoseok and Taehyung are stumbling down the steps, hesitating in the doorway, and you know you can’t dig deeper. For now, you’ll have to just be happy he doesn’t seem to be still bothered by it. “No worries. I’ll- I should go get into some pyjamas.”

That night, none of you really sleep the night. You lie tucked between Yoongi’s reassuring mass on one side, and Taehyung’s comforting warmth on the other, and try to steal whatever moments of respite you can. But a restless night shared with five guys who mean far more to you than they should is far preferable to a night spent alone, and you count your blessings for it. Although you’re all a little broken, you have each other’s support to stop from shattering completely, and hopefully you can stay together long enough to heal.

ELIMINATION

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rainygothherowolf · 4 years

Text

Jasonette/Daminette- Little Sister Pt.2

Previous ~ Here ~ Next

Marinette was in the kitchen, preparing herself some hot chocolate. After the drama at Wayne tower, Jason insisted she stay with his family. Her older brother seemed to loathe the class with a passion, refusing to let her near them. Marinette's parents were hesitant at first, not trusting some random Gotham boy to take care of their daughter but eventually they were persuaded. Where she would be staying was definitely a factor, where could be safer?

"I don't see how you could stand to drink such sugary poison." Damian stated making her jump, he was right behind her. He reached past Marinette and to the cupboard she was in front of. He grabbed a teacup before pulling his arm back, his eyes never straying from her own.

"Well then... what do you suggest I drink?" Marinette's hot chocolate sat on the counter behind her, forgotten, as she turned and faced Damian. The Parisian crossed her arms defiantly, Damian looked down at her like she was a cute puppy.

"Tea has been known to calm frayed nerves, perhaps I could prepare you some?"

"W-why would I need to calm down? I feel perfectly fine!" Marinette declared, refusing to give in. Her stubbornness seemed to amuse Damian, he reached out and just barely brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Well, you've been blushing since you noticed I was here, for one. Now, would you like some tea? How do you take it?"

"I don't usually have tea. I tried making myself some a few times but always thought it tasted like bitter water."

"You haven't had my tea yet." Damian challenged, "You wouldn't be scared to try something I made, would you?" Marinette was coherent enough to see what he was doing, even if his imposing and, frankly, distracting physique was only a hair's breadth away.

"Only if you have my hot chocolate. Or are you scared of the 'sugary poison'?" Marinette offered, Damian leaned his head down just a fraction of an inch closer to Marinette before catching himself pulling away. He retreated back a few feet before turning to the sink.

"Alright then, it's a deal. I'll try the wretched holiday drink if you have my tea." Damian spoke with his back to her as he filled a kettle with water.

"Deal." Marinette agreed before heading to refrigerator, she's get him to admit her hot chocolate was good. No one called her favorite drink 'wretched' and got away with it.

"Deal." Damian reaffirmed.

By the time the drinks were done Marinette was thirsty, she would have had her own hot chocolate but Damian demanded she leave it, claiming it would cloud her pallet. She rolled her eyes at that but by the time she finally got past Damian's joking defense the drink was cold.

Marinette sipped from her cup first, Damian watched, both amused and attentive as she took a sip of the tea.

He laughed at her wrinkled nose, just for a moment- one could hardly call it a chuckle, before adding the cream.

"Try it now." Marinette looked at Damian hesitantly before taking another sip, this time he noticed her relax as a small smile graced her lips. Damian smirked at his little victory.

"Alright, your turn Monsieur." Damian rolled his eyes as Marinette watched him lift the mug. He felt she looked over excited for something so silly but found it strangely endearing.

The warm, smooth liquid made it's way past his lips and while it was a little too sweet for his liking, it was still good and he told her so.

"Fine, it was adequate." Marinette rolled her eyes before taking a taunting step toward him.

"Yeah right! That was some of my best work, you don't get to get away with calling it 'adequate'" Damian scoffed, taking a more intimidating step towards the short girl, one upping her in their little game of chicken.

"Then what do you suggest I call something I found too sweet but bearable?"

"Good! You call it good, it's important to be polite, Damian!" Marinette took another step forward forgetting how close they already were, refusing to back down. Damian had to look further down than usual to meet Marinette's passionately determined eyes.

He took his opportunity, using his right hand to tilt her chin upwards, smiling slightly, only slightly. They were so close, he could feel the warmth of her body from where he stood. Damian was about to speak when they saw someone walk into the kitchen, it was Jason.

The teenagers separated themselves quickly but it was too late, the damage was already done. The taller boy immediately scooped Marinette up and slung her over his shoulder. Jason was glaring daggers at a smug Damian before waking out of the room with Marinette. Damian waved goodbye to a blushing Parisian, she followed her old brothers lead and glared at the annoyingly smug boy.

The rest of Marinette's stay was an amusing balance between getting to know the Wayne's, spending time with Jason, and sneaking off with an unrepentant Damian.

Whenever Jason was around they kept their distance but were caught more than enough times.

"And you eat this?" Damian asked, bewildered at how anyone could consume something so unhealthy.

"Yes. It isn't that bad if you have it every once in a while. Sometimes the calories are worth it! Worth the satisfaction of indulgence." Damian scoffed from his seat on the counter opposite to Marinette, who was baking chocolate chip cookies.

"Why don't you help me? That way they're done sooner." Marinette offered, not realizing how disastrous the question was.

"I think it would be best if I didn't. Things tend to go wrong when me or my siblings attempt to do anything in the kitchen." Marinette giggled, she thought Damian was great. He was a good listener, funny, smart, and on top of that he was drop-dead-gorgeous. Marinette knew he wasn't just being friendly, no, he'd made his intentions perfectly clear when they first met but she didn't want to become a problem. Jason seemed to hate the idea, so she did her best to keep it friendly- unfortunately, Damian was persistent.

"It's just rolling the dough into balls, it's not even real cooking!" Marinette countered and Damian relented, getting up and watching her roll the dough before following suit.

At first, everything went suspiciously well. Damian did a good job rolling the dough and there was a period of comfortable silence, the problem with that was that it was too comfortable. Marinette began to hum, softly at first before it got a little louder. Damian didn't comment but eventually Marinette realized what she had done and blushed, her hands going to her head- accidentally getting flour on Damian's (NOT distracting) tight black turtleneck.

Marinette apologized repeatedly but noticed Damian was trying to smother his laughter.

"What? What is it?" The Parisian demanded, her accent thickening as she got more and more worried about what he was laughing at. As it turned out, the in her state of embarrassment she had not only dirtied Damian but also herself. She had cookie dough smeared across both cheeks. She blushed a deep red, making the cookie dough even more visible.

Eventually, Marinette moved past her embarrassment and spoke to a working Damian as he loaded the cookies in the oven.

"Oh Damian~" The boy turned, his eyes still amused.

"Ye-" Damian was cut off by a cloud of flour, she'd thrown the powdery substance at him as he turned. While blinded by the thick cloud of white Marinette was able to get close enough to get some cookie dough on his forehead.

"Oh it is on, little one, and I don't loose." They spent the next ten minutes throwing flour, extra dough, and water at each other, in a world of their own.

Reality didn't come crashing down on the teens until they saw the flash of a camera.

It was Tim and Stephanie.

Marinette blushed as she tried to dust the flour off herself, embarrassed that she'd made such a mess in someone else's home. Damian seemed to be torn between being amused at Marinette's embarrassment and trying to salvage what was left of his reputation.

"Jason's gonna lose it."

"Todd doesn't need to know."

"What's in it for us?" Stephanie countered, using her hand to lower Tim's hand as he tried to call Jason.

"Cookies?" Just as Marinette spoke the timer went off and she went to take the treats out of the oven. The warm chocolate-y smell filled the room as both Steph and Tim began to drool.

"Todd doesn't need to know?"

"Jason doesn't need to know." Tim seconded as Marinette fanned the cookies. When they were cool she handed them all the cookies on a plate. All but one that she negotiated for Damian to try.

Dick, Tim, Steph, Selina, even Bruce found it hilarious, they understood why Jason hated it, but they also saw that she brought out the best in Damian. It pissed Jason off, Marinette was off limits. Damian was frustrated because had Jason not been so annoying he'd have asked her out already, but watching the second robin get so riled up also made the chase that much more fun (not that Damian would even consider perusing her without her explicit encouragement).

Damian was taking Titus out for a walk on the grounds when he heard a familiar hum, he followed the high, sweet tune to the rose gardens where a small Parisian sat, sketching.

Marinette sat on a small bench for two, her hair in loose waves. She wore a black skirt that ended just above her knees and a deep red halter top with matching red flats. She looked stunning, surrounded by the vibrant rose bushes. He studied her for a moment more before making his presence known.

"What are you drawing?" Damian asked as he approached the girl. Marinette wasn't as jumpy as when they first met, getting used to his sudden appearances.

"A new design, a dress." Everyone knew she wanted to be a designer but no one knew she was MDC yet. Marinette convinced herself that was because it hadn't come up yet but in reality she was embarrassed. She'd heard Tim say they were his favorite designer and that if he ever met them he'd either fall in love (Stephanie slapped him across the head at that) or pass out.

Marinette didn't look up until Damian's shadow blocked the light. Marinette decided to tease him and ignore the boy in favor of his dog.

"Hello again, Titus! What a good boy, so cute!" She poured all her attention onto the animal who took it in stride. Damian didn't like being ignored but humored her, petting Titus.

"You like to design." It wasn't a question, Damian remembered what Grayson told him about conversation. He tried to find a relevant topic that would allow him to compliment her.

"May I see your sketch?" Damian asked, still paying attention to Titus. Marinette blushed as she quickly shut her sketchbook.

"Uh... hehe- maybe another day." Her logo was on the corner of each page and Marinette didn't want to risk it. Damian thought she looked adorable, blushing deeply, but he also thought it was uncalled for- he hadn't begun his teasing yet. This caught his attention and curiosity, he had to see the book.

"What? Why are you blushing?" Damian teased but he saw she was getting uncomfortable, he had done it in good fun but he saw he'd overstepped.

"Apologies- I'm sorry if I crossed a line I was just teasing, you don't have to show me- I didn't mean it." Damian was at a loss, he didn't think before he spoke and ended up stringing together apology after apology. Marinette giggled.

"It's okay, you don't have to blush!" Damian hadn't even noticed how hot his face was, this only embarrassed him further.

"Oh~ Do you need some tea? To calm the nerves?" Marinette teased, earning a half-assed glare from Damian, who was still trying to fight his blush. Finally, he got it under control. Despite the sidetrack Damian persisted, trying to start up another conversation just like Grayson told him to. He sat next to Marinette on the bench.

"The gardens are beautiful this time of year, are they not?" Damian offered. Marinette hummed in agreement, studying her surroundings before her eyes met Damian's.

"Breathtaking." Damian complimented, making Marinette blush heavily. Damian glanced at her full, pale rose lips, unconsciously licking his own. The Parisian seemed to notice and she tilted her head upward slightly, only slightly, with her eyes half-closed.

Damian summoned his courage and leaned in closer, they both closed their eyes. Just as they were about to close the gap, his hand was about to hold her check. Damian swore he felt her soft lips barely brush his when they heard Jason yell.

"AH! Get off her! NOPE NOPE NOPE!" Jason was a few meters away but both teens obeyed, embarrassed. Jason grabbed Marinette’s hand and quickly, but carefully, pulled his little sister away from Damian. "From now on, you two aren't allowed in the same room anymore. Except diner. Keep away from Nettie, Demon Brat."

Damian saw Jason's face, this wasn't just because he thought it was weird to see Damian try to date someone he saw as family- no, it was something else entirely. It was because he saw Marinette as too good, too pure for Damian.

Jason didn't want Marinette to be dragged into the mess that was Damian's life.

Jason didn't want Marinette to suffer because Damian didn't know how to deal with his emotions.

Jason didn't want Marinette to be hurt by Damian, he didn't want to see someone he loved hurt. It wasn't just because it was Damian, it was because he didn't want to see Marinette's heart get broken.

Damian, shockingly, backed off- hardly even acknowledging the girl on the few occasions they crossed paths. He wasn't outwardly rude like he was with his siblings but Marinette seemed to catch on. At first she was a little dejected but was adamant about keeping positive.

Jason spent as much time as possible with his little sister, making sure to watch movies, tour the city, and just hang out all the time. He also made sure that she got to know the rest of the family, except Damian. And the fourth robin let it happen, he kept to himself and let her spend time with everyone else.

And then family night reared it's ugly head.

Marinette was sitting with Alfred the Cat and Cass on the sofa, Jason on a chair near Marinette, waiting for everyone else to arrive for the movie.

The Parisian beamed when she met Kor'i and Mar'i, quickly bonding with both. Marinette was quickly dubbed Auntie Nettie by an Auntie Steph and Uncle Timmy. Dick was about to play the first movie when Kor'i spoke up.

"Where is the little D?"

"Yeah! Where's Uncle Dami?" A four year old Mar'i asked from her father's lap. Jason scoffed, he was about to speak when someone walked in.

"Has anyone seen Alfred the Cat?" Damian asked, before he saw Jason and Marinette. Damian was about to say never mind- noticing Alfred purring in Marinette's arms, but Mar'i beat him to it.

"Uncle Dami!" The half Tamaranian announced, jumping from the couch and flying into her uncle's arms. Marinette was quick to catch onto the families nightly activities and let them catch her talking to Tikki. Jason clearly wasn't happy, neither was Damian, but on the bright side they didn't have any secrets. Kor'i and Mar'i were briefly discussed but Marinette didn't pry.

"It's been forever, like a whole week! You have to come watch the movie with us, it's family night! You can sit next to Marinette! Isn't she pretty? And nice?" Mar'i chattered and waited for Damian to respond.

"Yes, she is very nice." Damian spoke as carried his niece to her father who gave him an encouraging smile before Damian sat between Marinette and Cass. Mar'i spoke up just before Dick could play the movie.

"And pretty! Right Uncle Dami? Isn't she really pretty? Like momma!" Kor'i gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek, distracting the girl from Damian and Marinette's panic- and Jason's low growl.

Dick played the movie and gently shushed his daughter, stopping her from asking Damian again. Telling her she did a good job and would get extra popcorn.

The movie was some children's story that Damian couldn't seem to pay attention to, all he could seem to think about was the Parisian next to him- cuddling Alfred the Cat with her knees practically tucked to her chest, her back to him.

Damian took notice of Marinette's drooping shoulders and yawns as the movie progressed, but he hadn't expected for her to suddenly turn and cuddle onto his side, grabbing his arm as she and Alfred slept. Jason clearly didn't like it but Marinette was immovable, sleeping peacefully against a tense Damian. The boy did everything in his power to not sink into the warm sofa and nap alongside her, exhausted. He fought his tired eyes as best he could but it was a losing battle.

Eventually the movie faded away, his head rested upon something soft.

Jason wanted to be mad, he wanted to move Marinette so she rested against him- she always used to as a little girl but he saw she was clinging to Damian, whether it was intentional or not. Jason knew Damian hadn't done anything to give Marinette reason to cuddle him, finally understanding that Jason just didn't want to see Marinette hurt. Unfortunately, neither could do anything about it.

Jason also knew he couldn't blame Damian for passing out, knowing as well as anyone that finals and patrol were a bad mix but that didn't mean he didn't want to slap him for passing out and unconsciously cuddling with Marinette.

Alfred the cat eventually woke from his nap and moved from his warm spot between the two teenagers and left the room to do only God knows what. The sudden lack of warmth seemed to stir both Marinette and Damian. The Parisian whined softly as she nuzzled closer to Damian, her legs ended up across his lap as they snuggled closer. Jason clenched his fists and jaw before bringing his attention back to the movie, trying to think of what to do.

By the time the movie ended, Jason was at a loss- at some point Cass left the room so Damian and Marinette were literally lying on each other, limbs entangled as they slept, blissfully unaware of their compromising position. Everyone softly laughed and took pictures of Damian sleeping and Marinette lying carefully on top of him, his arms wrapped around her with her head tucked under his chin. Their their legs tangled.

"Jay, I'm sorry but they're so cute together. And they really seem to like each other, I know it's weird for you but let them be." Dick tried, he'd been rooting for them since Damian started to ask about how to start a conversation, lines you don't cross, how to tell if a subject is off limits. The first robin prayed to whatever god was out there that his brother would finally see that their dating wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I know." Jason noticed Damian back off when he realized why Jason didn't want them to date, it wasn't just because Damian was an ass, if something ever happened to Damian- Marinette would be a mess and he couldn't stand to see the broken look in her eyes ever again. Jason knew it was a shitty reason, she'd probably be a mess no matter what, but he couldn't help it. He just wanted to protect Marinette. Jason finally knew what to do, but until then he'd let them sleep.

Jason walked out of the room, annoyed- the brat won. Damn their stubbornness. Hopefully it would make Damian more bearable...

Damian woke up with the sun, but for once wanted to stay in bed. He was warm, and a calming, steady breathing tried to lull him back to sleep- wait. Why would he feel someone else's breathing?

Damian's eyes snapped open and scanned the room, he was lying in the living room with a blanket on him and- 'No. No. No. Of all the times to pass out, of all the people-'

Damian's mind went into overdrive trying to remember how he'd gone from sitting with Marinette leaning on him to falling asleep with her. He knew he was dead, but suddenly his mind focused on the even sound of her breathing, she was still sleeping- dead to the world. There was no reason to wake her, so Damian closed his eyes, pulled Marinette closer, and allowed himself to go back to sleep. Enjoying his last moments in the land of the living.

Something made a noise, Damian opened his eyes again. This time Marinette awoke with him, propping herself up on his chest and rubbing her eyes with a tired yawn.

"Good morning." Marinette froze at the sound of Damian's deep, rough, sleep-filled voice as she took in a messy haired, tired Damian. She blushed, hard, morning Damian was officially her favorite Damian.

"D-Damian- w-what happe- did I- I'm so sorry!" Marinette sat up, not thinking about what she was doing. She continued to apologize while Damian panicked, if Jason walked in right now- he'd die for the second time. Breaking the family record, sure, but that certainly wouldn't be worth it. Well... No, not worth it- unless someone brought him back again... No, no, Todd would likely make it painful. Definitely not worth it.

"Marinette-"

"No, this is totally my fault! I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to fall asleep on you, you were probably really uncomfortable with me leaning on you like that!"

"Marinette really it's alri-"

"No, Damian! It's not alright, I- Jay probably got really mad at you, I'll- I'll talk to him make sure he knows it wasn't your fault."

"Marinette?" The Parisian seemed to be done with her ranting and was staring at Damian again, she for some reason, hadn't noticed earlier but Damian wasn't wearing a shirt. In Marinette's sleepy state she just stared unabashedly. Damian's voice seemed to get her attention.

"Perhaps you shouldn't sit like that..." Damian refused to call it what it was. Had he wanted to be more accurate, and he didn't, he would have asked her to stop straddling him.

Marinette froze, blushed, and then started whining in embarrassment. Her head in her hands. Damian was having a difficult time holding back his own blush but was managing alright.

"Marinette?" Damian asked, she peaked out from between her hands and realized she had yet to get off him, finally he sat up on his own and gently pushed her off him. They sat next to each other, Damian refused to look at Marinette in her beautifully flustered state.

Jason walked in with his arms crossed, he leaned against the door-frame.

"Awake are we?" He asked, not expecting an answer, he didn't get one.

"Well, Demon Spawn, let's just say your reputation is effectively ruined. Steph and Selina got more than enough pictures to get even you to blush." The two teenagers refused to look at Jason, he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting his annoyance surface.

"I can't even-" Damian waited for the inevitable outburst, for once. " I can't believe I'm fucking doing this- You two were cute or whatever but word of the wise, brat- hurt her and I'll kill you. Got it?" Both teenagers heads snapped up, Marinette blushed. Damian nodded a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

'FINALLY' Was the only thing Damian thought in that moment before he began to plan how to ask her out. He needs to speak to Grayson again, unfortunately.

And with that, their banter and teases began again. This time there was no bribery to keep Damian's siblings quiet and no Jason to stop their kisses. The young couple went on dates, watched movies, laughed at the put off look Damian’s family would have when he said something awkwardly funny. Of course, Jason was still insistent on sibling bonding, stealing Marinette as often as possible- that became their new game: who could get Marinette for the day.

Of course, there were some close calls. Jason had walked in on Damian and Marinette kissing... for an extended period of time... he stood frozen and watched in horror as they made out on a chair in Damian's room, Marinette's hands in Damian's hair with his hands at her hips, keeping her pressed against him as her legs bracketed his hips.

Damian noticed Jason first, immediately pushing away and inwardly cursing. Marinette blushed furiously and had to stop Jason from killing Damian but her messy hair and slightly swollen lips didn't help.

Of course, everyone else thought it was hilarious.

As they say, all good things must come to an end. After three weeks of freedom from her class, their trip finally came to an end and so did Marinette's reunion. By the end of her stay Marinette knew why she'd be okay, from now on she had a family four times as big as before. The Parisian couldn't be happier: she reunited with her brother and has an adoring boyfriend. All she had to do now was survive the last few weeks of the school year before transferring to Mme Mandeleiev's class.

I’m gonna be okay, Marinette thought that to herself as they made their way to the airport. Damian didn't want her to leave, no one did, he held Marinette's hand while she spoke to Jason who promised to visit often.

Everyone hugged her goodbye or said so from a respectful distance before she passed through security and rejoined her class.Both Damian and Jason glared at the class in warning, they still seemed to be reeling from the discovery that the Italian was a liar. People called out to the girl, shouting apologies. Marinette just walked past as if she couldn’t hear a thing.

And then she was gone. Damian and Jason pouted, they already missed her, luckily summer was right around the corner. They'd get her to visit soon, or if they had to they'd go to Paris.

After all, family is supposed to stick together. And despite their attempts at denying it, they were clingy.

#Daminette #DamianWayne #JasonTodd #Jasonette #Maribat #Miraculous #MiraculousLadybug #AU #LittleSisterAU #Pt2 #DC #Robin #Ladybug #Batfam #Zagg #MarinetteDupain-Cheng #Corssover #Fanfic

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clearlynotjanus · 3 years

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Whumptober: Day Two, Talking is Overrated

READ ON AO3

Chapter Summary: Ever since Remus returned from his isolation in the Imagination, things between Janus & Virgil have been strained. Virgil can’t deny that he finds Remus attractive, & Janus doesn’t seem to have a problem with this, but there’s a lot lurking just under the surface of his feelings that makes being with either of them far more difficult than it should be. CW: Dubious consent, panic attacks, anxiety, crying, blowjobs, deepthroating, graphic description of sexual acts Word Count: 5160 Genre: Hurt, Smut, Angst, Whump Rating: Explicit Ships: Dukexiety with a dash of Anxceitmus Author Notes: Soooo you’ll notice that this is very out of the realm of the stuff I usually write. I’m giving everyone a warning right now, this is dubcon & it’s all hurt, no comfort. If you’re familiar with my writing, right about now you’re asking who the fuck is this because this sure isn’t Andrew-Moceit-Fluff-Anderson, & you’re right! This is extremely out of character for me! But sometimes you just gotta hurt the anthropomorphized version of your panic disorder to get through some shit, you know? lmao. Maybe that’s relatable, maybe you’re wondering if my hitaus has turned me into a psycho; who knows! But anyway! I’m using Whumptober to explore some...less than savory topics. So honestly, a big fat “Don’t like, don’t read” / “Dead Dove Don’t Eat” on everything I post this month. But if you’re into it! Hell yeah! I hope you enjoy! :D

Taglist: @sanderssidesangsttrash @catalinaacosta @whatishappeningrightnow @anxiousbean4404 @vexelore @ranboo-but-booran @serpentinesomebody @poptartsaysurloved @robertdownerjr @dangitsbrightinhere @iamuncomffy @sanderdarksides @dragonfander @virgilstarantula @a-rudethude @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626 @edupunkn00b @wouldntyou-liketoknow @awesomerandomgirl1 @cosplayhanna @rizzyluke @all-panic-nodisco @remy-the-lemon-berry @their-royal-fiensishness @xravynsflamex @imma-potatoo @obsxdiannn

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Hearing the television downstairs, Virgil decided that four in the afternoon was as good a time as any to leave his room for the day. With ghostly silent steps, he descended the stairs - only to stand awkwardly at the foot. His eyes settled on Janus who was staring at the flickering screen, a gloved hand bore the weight of his head with a cupped cheek. Virgil’s heart rate thrummed in his ears like an approaching war drum, nearly drowning out the indecisive show clips. The irregular pattern of noise began a pressure between his eyes as he strained to keep up with alternating sounds of unfamiliar shows.

“Oh is that o--” Virgil started, recognizing a voice finally with several ounces of relief. His head turned as Janus clicked past a rerun of The Twilight Zone.

He blinked, pausing on the following station as he looked up at Virgil with furrowed brows.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Virgil said, shaking his head. With long steps he quickly retreated to the kitchen as Janus shrugged and resumed his mindless clicking.

Virgil collapsed against the kitchen counter, a palm splayed heavily behind him as though his life depended on it, the other gripping his stomach. Breathe, he ordered himself sternly, tightly closing his eyes and drawing in a breath he struggled to keep quiet. In, 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Out, 1, 2, 3, 4 --

“Virgil, since you’re in the kitchen,” Janus called, hardly louder than his speaking voice, but the sound made Virgil jump regardless. Instinctually a hand slammed over his mouth to keep the inevitable squeak on his tongue. “Would you be a darling and make us some tea?”

“Y-yeah! Sure!” He said, peeling his palm off his lips. As Janus remained silent, Virgil sighed heavily.

He repeated his breathing exercise as the water boiled, again as he dumped a ridiculous amount of sugar in one mug and a single teaspoon in another, once more as he placed a bag of Red Rose strawberry cheesecake flavored herbal tea in one mug and a bag of standard Lipton black in the other. His hands had stopped shaking by the time he carried both steaming cups out and placed them on the coffee table.

Typically he wasn’t one for hot drinks outside of the occasional hot chocolate in fall, but the idea of bringing Janus something without one of whatever it was for himself had always felt...off. Awkward maybe, or just weird; Virgil couldn’t say, but it always compelled him to inevitably join Janus, even if that was the last thing he wanted.

“Oh delightful,” Janus said, immediately wrapping his hands around the molten mug. Virgil flinched just thinking about touching something that hot, but Janus simply leaned back against the couch with a look Virgil could only describe as stupidly content.

“Yeah,” He mumbled and again found himself standing there.

Why was he always so awkward? Virgil internally lamented, wondering what normal people did with their hands. He’d been with Janus on this side of the Mindscape for four years now; had watched television and drank tea with him plenty of times. But it never felt easier. Janus put him on edge, for more than a handful of reasons; some harmful and some not.

Fight or Flight - more aptly upgraded to Paranoia these days - in theory was necessary for something like Self Preservation. A healthy dose of Anxiety kept one vigilant about their health and surroundings; it provided information for Self Preservation to react to and plan for. On paper, they should be a smooth running machine; Virgil would alert Janus to dangers and Janus would provide the escape route. The wrench was that communication was neither of their strong suits; but after four years, Janus didn’t really need Virgil to speak. He knew his problematic little spider well enough by now.

“Sit down already,” Janus waved a hand to the open end of the couch. “Your angst is suffocating.”

“S-sorry,” Virgil mumbled and sat on the opposite side of the L shaped couch.

“Tsk.”

The two sipped their respective cups in a smothering silence. Virgil’s shoulders ached under the weight. Should he talk? Was Janus going to say something? He stole a glance at his partner, and a sigh caught at the back of his throat at the sight. Janus sat upright, drinking his tea and staring at the television without even a furrow between his brow. Why was he always so goddamn content?

“You’re still upset.”

“No,” Virgil rushed, the sudden observation pumping adrenaline through his blood. Janus hadn’t even looked at him - how the hell had he made any sort of observation, true or not? The air around them sweetened. Janus narrowed his eyes condescendingly, finally sparing a glance at him to offer the expression. They both knew that was a lie. Virgil bowed his head, needing to look away.

“You should really know better by now.” Janus complained into this teacup, but to Virgil’s ears, it just sounded like an insult.

He should know better by now than to lie to Janus’ face. Or maybe he should know better by now than to get upset at Thomas’ lies. But Virgil struggled to say it wasn’t the thought of Thomas lying that lurched his stomach. The words knotted his tongue and tightened his throat until even the tea wouldn’t go down.

Of course Janus knew this; knew every bit of Virgil’s simple psychology. His words were being misconstrued in that buzzing mind of his at this very moment. Even his intent from yesterday; misunderstood, which is what got them here of course. What was bothering Virgil was very easy to understand; when continuously faced with the fact that Janus unflinchingly told Thomas to lie, manipulate, and do whatever he must to get what he wants, it was only a matter of time before Virgil began to wonder if those very same morals were at play in their relationship.

The answer was equally obvious, Janus thought, and therefore Virgil should know better by now.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed with a sigh, but the bitterness continued to strangle him, and Janus felt no need to get into the topic. If they continued pretending as though things were fine, eventually they would be, which was usually his philosophy in dealing with Virgil’s anxiety.

The crushing silence rang in Virgil’s ears despite the ease it came to Janus with. Paranoia - it was a very difficult experience and talking himself off the ledge was getting harder every day. The thought of Janus hurting him was haunting. How far would he go to get his way? The things he implied Thomas should be willing to do...were they things Janus was willing to do to him? Virgil gulped, and then jumped five inches off the couch.

“Sup, emo,” Remus greeted nasally, having barrelled down the stairs in microseconds. Virgil’s heart all but stopped as he cursed at the warm tea that had splashed on his hand with the shock.

With no amount of hesitance, Remus flopped on the couch and forced his head into Janus’ lap. Though Janus looked generally disgruntled about the loud interruption, he still lifted his arms and adjusted to make himself available.

“Aw damn,” Remus continued gruffly, ignoring Virgil’s flinch and discomfort as he gave a grotesque sniff to the air. “You made tea and didn’t even heat me up any bleach? Booooooooo.”

“Sorry,” Virgil spat sarcastically, scrunching his nose, “I try not to think about you.”

“That’s not what you said last night.” Remus mocked and Virgil choked on his inhale, going red.

“Be nice, Remus.” Janus bounced his leg gently, jostling him. “You know he’s much too frigid for that in this clearly public space. I mean, anyone could walk in at any moment.”

Remus snickered, folding his arms behind his head as Janus spoke with mocking alarm. He looked at Virgil expectantly and only had to wait a second before the bickering began.

“I am not frigid,” Virgil said, blushing still.

“Prove it, Daddy Long Legs,” Remus wiggled his brows suggestively. Virgil glared, but couldn’t keep the paranoia from creeping up on him; anxiously, he glanced at Janus, struggling to keep his attention on Remus. Janus, as though entirely separate from this conversation, seemed to be minding his own business now; he took a loud sip of his tea and kept his vision trained on the television that was quickly being drowned out by their arguing.

“H-how?” Virgil asked when he realized Janus wasn’t going to butt in, immediately regretting his decision to indulge Remus.

“Suck my dick,” he said quickly like he had just been waiting for Virgil to ask. “Right here in the living room!” His hands reached for his waistband. Covertly Janus reacted; as though he had inhaled at the wrong time, he quietly cleared his throat into a cupped hand.

“No!” Virgil protested immediately, recoiling as he nervously looked towards the staircase.

“Prude.”

“Am not!”

“Virgin.”

“That’s just plain wrong!”

Virgil’s face had gone a deep scarlet and again he regretted his words. Anger seized his throat; though he hadn’t raised his volume, his words were heated and bitter. Remus, for all his apparent disinterest as the insults were slung, just couldn’t do away with the pleased sparkle in his eyes that always came with riling Virgil up.

“Is it really now, Screamo?” Remus taunted and Virgil pushed his tempered tongue against the side of his cheek.

“You know it is,” His words came out slow and ground between his teeth. He hated Remus for making him say these things out loud, for making him acknowledge the truths he purposefully left hidden under his bedsheets.

“Do I?” Remus dug a finger into his ear, giving Virgil a stupid and ignorant expression. “Sorry, Cindy Lou Boo, must’ve just…slipped my mind.” He finished with a shrug that held both his hands open.

Virgil groaned and pulled his knees to his chest, slamming back against the couch in a show of edgy annoyance. He glowered straight ahead, unseeing at the window as his rage-filled heart hammered against his ears.

“See what I mean?” Janus mumbled, a smirk just barely hidden behind his teacup. “Frigid.” He raised a shoulder in a half effort shrug.

The words cut Virgil deep, deeper than Remus’ digs had. Janus was always cold and pointed with his insults. They hit hard and lingered with murderous precision. Remus’ were fast and easy to ignore in the long run. Virgil forced himself to take a breath; his lungs expanded against his legs. This was a stupid arguement to be having. They both knew what Virgil was like in bed, which he guessed was why they liked teasing him, but it wasn’t fun. Not for him anyway. Even so, it made Virgil feel like he had something to prove.

Maybe it was some sort of twisted aspect of toxic masculinity or something, but he couldn’t just let their jeering go. It festered in him, the need to be recognized as one of them, because these days it really was feeling like Janus and Remus were against him, which was fucked up if you asked Virgil. He’d been with Janus the longest, so why was Remus able to just swoop in and act like this? Virgil steeled himself with more deep breaths before opening his mouth.

“Talking is overrated,” Virgil started and Janus peered through the corner of his eyes, recognizing how uncharacteristic of him those words were. “If you can’t remember, I’ll just have to remind you.”

“Hell yeah,” Remus immediately enthused, a wide grin cracking his face as he reached for his waistband.

“N-not here,�� Virgil rushed, desperately clinging to the cool tone he had used just a moment ago. Remus pouted and Virgil raised his eyes to insinuate one of their bedrooms above them. “Later.”

“Fiiiiiiiiine,” He bemoaned, crossing his arms and sinking back into the couch, his head colliding Janus’ lap again.

“Well then,” Janus mumbled and reached for the remote.

-----

Remus maintained a rough grip in Virgil’s hair. When his fingers had first tightly laced at the roots, Virgil had yelped and felt the familiar tingle of adrenaline prick down his spine. Now, even though Remus hadn’t let up at all, it felt mostly numb - at least in comparison to everything else. His boney knees had begun going red against the carpet, even behind the fabric of his jeans. The color was both from how harsh Remus had pushed him down onto them and for how long he’d been kneeling. His throat ached something raw. His lungs strained against his ribs. His cock struggled for friction against the boot between his thighs.

Virgil’s subdued cries fell on sadistic ears; not apathetic or deaf ones. Remus was spurred on by how Virgil’s protests interrupted the wet sound of his cock colliding against the back of his throat. Virgil knew that of course, and it was a thin line to be riding. Tonight, the margin for error felt smaller than usual.

Perhaps it was his interaction with Janus earlier or maybe it was the instigation this was founded on, but Remus’ grin seemed to glow maliciously down at him. The walls of his throat squeezed unusually tight, reluctant to relax no matter how many deep and even breaths Virgil forced through his nose. His hands shook against his thighs with the restraint of keeping his fight or flight at bay. It wasn’t typically this difficult, taking Remus’ cock and swallowing his violence. For all his objection in the living room earlier, the crude mockery of love that was his lewd time spent with Remus was enjoyable for him. Usually.

Tonight his body reacted like a great duality sliced a canyon in his mind; though he could feel his cock throbbing against his pants and his hips aching to press down against the rigid surface of Remus’ shoe, the familiar animal of panic surged through him, screaming danger like a mating Bellbird. Remus’ hand pressed Virgil’s head down further, his cock searching for the give that’d have him sliding down with ease. Virgil’s eyes watered; even in pain he struggled to maintain eye contact. His vision swam as he glanced between Remus’ unwavering, heated stare and the ceiling just behind his head.

“Relax already, Virge,” Remus complained, reaching with his other hand to tip Virgil’s head back by his chin.

He whined, though the sound quickly became strangled against the obstruction. He was trying, he was trying so hard to let Remus cram himself down, but the more Remus pressed, the more obvious it became that Virgil’s throat wasn’t letting up; and the more obvious that became, the more distressed Virgil got. He was trying, why wasn’t it working? It always did, he was always able to do at least this much. If he couldn’t even deepthroat Remus…maybe they were right. Shame tightened his chest as Janus’ voice rang through his mind. You know he’s much too frigid for that…

Janus couldn’t be right about that. Virgil wouldn’t let Janus be right about that. Rallying, Virgil shifted forward on his knees, straightening his back. His crotch slid further up Remus’ boot, and despite the tears in his eyes, Virgil looked desperately stubborn.

“Ooooh,” Remus almost sang, his voice entertained as he tugged the tuft of Virgil’s hair in his grip and earned a gargled cry. “You’re finally ready to try, Scare Bear?”

He winced; he was already trying, but it was probably a good thing, Virgil thought, that Remus didn’t realize that. It’d just make him look that much more pathetic.

With a deep breath, Virgil squeezed his eyes shut. His knuckles went white as they gripped the hem of his shirt. He forced his jaw to relax, his tongue to press flat against the bottom of his mouth. This would hurt. He steeled himself for pain. The Bellbird rioted in his ears and every other thought hazed as he pressed forward of his own volition. Remus’ hands guided him forward as his cock split through the anxious knot in his throat. The courage of determination and humiliation wasn’t enough to numb the agony. His eyes shot open and the muscles in his neck tensed to pull back as Remus’ cock penetrated beyond his soft palate and teased at the entrance of his esophagus.

Remus’ eyes fluttered shut as he moaned, his head falling back as though it was a great effort to stay standing as pleasure coursed through him. Virgil’s panic rose and no amount of nonverbal approval could prevent him from jerking away - or at least trying to. As he pulled back, feeling his lungs burn for air, he realized the real reason Remus’ hands had stayed lodged in his hair and gripped on his jaw; to hold him in place when he inevitably changed his mind. At the revelation, Virgil squirmed, his hands unconsciously reaching for Remus’ pant leg as muffled pleas wedged between the walls of his throat and Remus’ cock. Virgil struggled, his movements frenzying the longer Remus went without a reaction. He clawed at Remus’ leg as his jaw reflexively tightened. His front teeth grazed the intrusive member between his lips and despite Virgil’s misery, he attempted to keep his mouth open. Tears streaked down his cheeks and his thoughts crescendo to their steepest point of doom; he would die here.

Remus sighed and loosened his hold on the back of Virgil’s head, enough for him to slide backwards several inches until his cock rested at the back of his throat, no longer obstructing Virgil’s breath. But Virgil continued to push back, wanting to eject the horror completely. He shook his head and stared up at Remus with pleading, terror-filled eyes.

“God, Dee’s right, you’re such a Drama King. Breathe already,” Remus said with an exasperated eye roll.

The mention of Janus felt like a slap across the face. How often did they talk about him? Did they only have bad things to say? His stomach flipped and he forced his eyes closed. He already suspected it was like that; he shouldn’t act so shocked. Ever since Remus has come back from the Imagination, he was closer to Janus than Virgil had ever been. It made him beyond jealous, beyond paranoid - but could it really be called paranoia if he was proven right?

Though Remus’ words were harsh, Virgil eventually obeyed, realizing he was right as a slow and even breath went through his nose and down to his lungs easily. It didn’t matter what Janus said about him, Virgil lied to himself. It didn’t matter if they talked behind his back. He’d prove them wrong.

“Good, now stop being such a wuss already,” Remus continued as Virgil’s panic began to subside. Little by little his deep breaths chipped away at the looming wall of his anxiety until eventually, only a line of bricks remained.

He was fine. He did this all the time - well not all the time but frequently enough that it was pretty ridiculous of him to make such a big deal out of it. He blushed, thinking about how pitiful he must’ve looked, struggling to get half of Remus’ cock down. Embarrassment swelled and he swallowed against the feeling, closing his lips around Remus in the process. He gave a small nod and readied himself. This time, he wouldn’t be such a coward.

Remus’ hand tensed in Virgil’s hair and a flinch coiled in his muscles; but the moment remained paused as Remus hesitated.

“Pull your pants down.”

Virgil blinked up at him, a dumb look on his face as his fearful mind struggled to keep up.

“Pants. Down.” Remus repeated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his tone bewildered. He lifted his foot which remained pressed against Virgil’s cock; the jolt of sudden pressure seemed to get the point across finally.

Virgil unfurled his hands from Remus’ pant leg. His knuckles cracked from being released for the first time in several long minutes. The blood rushed back to them as he fumbled with his zipper and button. Clumsily he maneuvered them down his thighs and below his knees enough. With that done, he looked back at Remus, wanting to just get on with this already. His hardon had shrunk significantly with his earlier pain and even thinking about getting off now made his skin crawl. He wanted to get this over with. His throat ached, his head was pounding, and his knees were raw.

“Boxers too, Spidey,” Remus said impatiently.

Virgil sighed through his nose. He should’ve seen that coming. He looked down, though from his angle he couldn’t see very far without taking Remus’ cock out of his mouth, which was very clearly unallowed by the hands holding his head still. The color on his cheeks darkened at the realization; if he took his boxers off, there’d be nothing between him and Remus’ boot. Disgust overtook him. He didn’t want to touch those things with his hands, let alone his cock.

“My shoes are clean, Sir Bite.” Remus said, tone full of disdain as though it was completely out of the realm of possibilities that his shoes were dirty. “I’m going soft,” He lamented, pushing Virgil’s head forward an inch to feel some friction, making him squeak in surprise. “Hurry up.”

Dejected, he repeated the process, albeit a bit quicker this time, and exposed his half-hard cock. He held it in his hand as he shifted himself back into position; spine straight, thighs separated, head tilted back with his jaw slack and lips tight - though he hadn’t had much of a choice with the latter part. Remus bent his head to the side and peered with dissatisfaction at the way Virgil refused to let his cock touch his shoe. Again he lifted his foot, pointedly pressing against Virgil’s hand as his eyes rolled to lock their gaze. Virgil’s cock twitched in his grip as Remus nearly glared at him with expectation; he resented the thing for it. There was no way such a revolting insinuation should get that sort of rise out of him…and yet, it had. His stomach churned and his nerves frayed as Remus refused to move. It was clear nothing would start or end until Virgil released his cock.

Slowly Virgil closed his eyes again, resigning himself to a very hot, very soapy shower later. He released his hand and rested both, once more, on his thighs. His cock pressed against the leather of Remus’ shoe. It felt…demeaning, Virgil thought. He especially hated how it curled his muscles with anticipation. He cursed internally and refused to meet Remus’ knowing stare. Bastard.

“Good. Now deep breath, emo.” He warned a second before he began to press forward again.

Panic exploded through him like a bullet with the words as his eyes shot open. He rushed to inhale as told in the moment that Remus’ cock inched beyond the back of his throat again. The adrenaline of fight or flight flooded his blood, electrifying his brain with the lone command to flee. But Remus’ hands and eyes paralyzed him; even if Virgil could find it in himself to move as irrational fear crippled him, he’d be prevented. He hadn’t noticed at what point he had stopped crying, but a renewed wetness began trickling down his cheeks, dripping onto his shaking hands.

His cock hardened against Remus’ boot despite himself, the feeling of being trapped somehow translating to arousal as Remus began violating his esophagus with paced thrusts and deep groans. Virgil knew that was exactly what Remus wanted; for all his pain and dread to transform into surrender and lust. That’s how it usually went so it was no wonder his cock dripped against the leather, preparing for the moment Virgil’s desire to run flipped on its head and he embraced his instinct to fight instead. But it was so much more difficult tonight to simply let that happen.

Virgil choked out a defeated whine, blinking rapidly as tears blurred his vision. The sound made Remus’ cock twitch aggressively; his movements hastened and Virgil gargled on his welling spit as his lungs began burning again.

“You know what to do,” Remus grunted, gripping his jaw tighter as he plunged deep enough to press Virgil’s lips against his crotch. He could feel his Adam’s apple taut against his skin. “To make it stop hurting so much.” Virgil thought if he wasn’t preoccupied, the words would’ve sounded like a laugh. Instead they were rushed, like Virgil’s pain was an annoyance rather than a concern.

Twenty seconds had passed and Virgil started to think he was going to die again. It hurt so much, all of it, and Remus was right; there was one way to make it stop, or at least dull it a bit, but Virgil didn’t want to think about that. The idea of moving his hips to gain friction against Remus’ shoe was…outrageous, ludicrous, crazy. But His cock ached for it, dripped precum against the cloth laces for it. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. He shook his head as much as he could and choked out a wet wail. Remus clicked his tongue and seemed to shrug about it; it wasn’t his problem if Virgil didn’t take him up on the relief he was offering.

The obscene sound of Remus’ cock pushing all the way down Virgil’s throat filled the room. It invaded his mind and seemed to be in rhythm with his heart, drowning the sound out. Ten more seconds and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Five more and his heart desynced from the even tempo of Remus’ thrusts. His pulse slowed and it was like he was standing in the living room, listening to Janus rapidly flick through the television channels again; a pressure formed between his eyes as he strained to keep up with what was happening. A dull panic nauseated his stomach. A sudden flash of heat like a desert wind beaded sweat at the back of his neck.

Was this enough? Did he live up to the expectation now? They couldn’t still call him frigid or a prude or accuse him of being a virgin after this, right? If he held on long enough and let Remus cum like this, maybe they’d even stop teasing him so much. Virgil hoped that was true, oh, he hoped so much. This could be just like a hazing ritual; he’d pass with flying colors if he could just sit still and take Remus’ brutality without flinching.

His thoughts became nonsensical as his body ran out of oxygen. This wasn’t a hazing ritual. This was just how Remus was. He’d never be comfortable around Janus again. He’d never have Janus to himself anymore; Remus would always be standing in the way like some twisted guard. Even in moments of peace, the inevitability of his unsettling nature put Virgil on edge. No amount of Deceit could cover the truth anymore. Thomas was sick and Remus was the proof.

As his vision went dark, Remus released his grip on Virgil’s hair. His fight or flight returned all at once as he was finally able to pull away. Falling backwards, a hand clawed at his throat, the other bracing himself up in a shaky way as he gasped and choked for air. Everything he knew about steadying his breathing had exited his mind somehow. He scrambled for ways to calm his now pounding heart; his wide eyes snapped across the room, up at Remus, across the room, up at Remus. What was it again? Something about counting, right? Panic climbed higher and higher until Virgil was sure his throat would close or his heart would burst, whichever came first would be the end of him.

Remus watched, a brow raised as he stroked his reddened cock, inches from finishing himself off. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the telltale signs of Virgil’s panic whatevers. He just didn’t understand them; why they happened, why Virgil made such a big deal out of them. If Virgil knew even a fraction of the things that went through his head, then maybe he’d have something to panic about. Virgil had it pretty easy in comparison.

“What’s with the hissy fit, Purple Heart Attack?” Remus said, voice strained with labored breathing as he closed the distance between them.

Virgil made a high pitched sound and went to crawl backwards. He was only successful for a moment before Remus caught his hand and brought it up to his cock. Reluctantly, Virgil wrapped his fingers around the width as he was physically instructed.

“C’mon, loser, I’m almost there.” Remus grunted as he forced Virgil’s hand to move against him; eventually he began to mechanically move his arm without aid.

Just a few more minutes, Virgil told himself, but the dizziness grew a heavy fog behind his eyes as his throat continued to clamp down on itself. His rhythm was uneven, his arm grew numb and Remus’ impatience surmounted into an agitated sound. He slapped Virgil’s hand away and took the final steps to tower over him. Grabbing his own length roughly, Remus stroked fast and hard, his sounds cresting to a loud moan of release as his eyes squeezed shut. Virgil froze, unable to look away until Remus came; his semen landed in streaks across Virgil’s face and the floor behind him.

They both panted, hard and heavy with shaking hands. It was over, but as Remus’ high faded in the afterglow, Virgil’s panic only continued to rise. With a quiet and involuntary cry, Virgil’s hands reached out, searching for a comfort his logical mind, if at all present, would have realized didn’t exist in Remus. Predictably, Remus stepped back, adjusting his pants into place as he avoided Virgil’s grip.

“What?” He said, tone so condescending, Virgil had almost thought Janus was in the room. “It’s like you said; talking is overrated, right?”

Virgil’s arms fell as tears burned his eyes. When did Remus get that good at cutting deep? Weren’t his insults always easy to avoid, or at least get over? Even though Remus had just spoken those words, Virgil felt them settling deep in his bones. They would haunt him forever, he could already tell.

“Right.” He sniffled as Remus turned away and headed for the door. Virgil wiped his nose wetly on his sleeve.

Remus left, not caring that he had closed the door so hard, the wall decor had rattled. Virgil flinched at the sound and pulled his knees to his chest, which certainly didn’t help how difficult it was to breathe. He was glad they always did this in his room; he didn’t think he would’ve had it in him to stand, pull his pants up, and sink out before the loud sobs began. Equally, he didn’t know if the sobs were from anger, embarrassment, or loneliness. Maybe it was some unfortunate mix of all three.

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #tss fanfiction #whumptober2021 #no.2 #talking is overrated #fic #dubcon #smut #nsfwhump

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