#long conversation about him- and i just need to do some final edits to make sure it sounds good- and it'll be ready to publish

[urdreamydoodles]

MCU Characters x Reader (Part.1)

How they react when you are angry with them (Part.1)

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker (Tom H.), Stephen Strange & Thor Odinson

I'm back in my MCU era, thanks to Agatha All Along, so expect a lot of MCU headcanons, feel free to request those!

Tony Stark

- When you’re angry with Tony, he’s a little stunned. He’s used to being able to charm his way through things or brush issues off with a joke, but the moment he realizes you’re genuinely upset, he feels the ground shift a little. Tony’s mind races, calculating what he did wrong, and for a second, he considers ignoring the problem—but not with you. You mean too much to him, and he can’t stand the idea of pushing you further away.

- He doesn’t immediately know how to apologize, so he leans into his classic defense mechanism: humor. He’ll try to make you laugh, throwing out quips, hoping you’ll crack a smile. When that doesn’t work, he gets a little awkward, mumbling things like, “This is why I avoid real feelings, you know?” as he fumbles through an apology. He’s not used to admitting fault, but with you, he’s learning to swallow his pride.

- Tony goes all out when he realizes he needs to make it up to you. He’ll throw himself into making amends, maybe even a little too extravagantly. Expect some grand, over-the-top gesture—a private jet to Paris, a limited-edition piece of tech he’s been tinkering on, or a fancy dinner in some exclusive place with an outfit he’s bought just for the occasion. He’s not subtle, and he knows it, but he’ll do anything if it means a smile from you.

- When the big gestures don’t work, he takes a different approach. He shows up at your door, looking strangely vulnerable, with something small and meaningful. Maybe it’s a handwritten letter he’s scribbled out, confessing how much he hates it when things aren’t okay between you two. It’s raw, real, and completely unlike Tony, but he means every word. This time, he wants to show that he’s willing to put the ego aside for you.

- Once you finally let him back in, Tony wraps you in his arms and doesn’t let go. He’ll joke that he’s not letting you get mad at him again, and maybe throw in a flirty quip about “testing his limits,” but there’s something deeper there too. Being loved by you has changed him, and he’s willing to work on himself for the first time in a long time. With you, Tony’s found a softness he didn’t know he had, and he’s not going to risk losing it.

Steve Rogers

- Steve Rogers doesn’t like conflict, especially not with you. When he realizes you’re angry, he immediately wants to address it and resolve it, hoping it won’t escalate. He tries to have a calm, level-headed conversation, but he can see that maybe it’s too soon. Steve’s patient, though; he’ll give you space if you need it, even if it pains him to let go for a while.

- While you’re cooling off, Steve takes time to reflect, replaying the situation in his mind, wondering where he went wrong. He’s his own worst critic and can be hard on himself, especially when it comes to you. He’ll try to see things from your perspective, understanding that sometimes his old-fashioned sense of right and wrong can be rigid. He’s willing to bend if it’s what’s needed to bridge the gap between you.

- When he approaches you again, he’s soft-spoken and earnest, offering a sincere apology. There are no excuses, no justifications—just him, owning up to whatever hurt you. His gaze doesn’t leave yours; he wants you to know he truly means it. And as he speaks, he promises he’ll do better, vowing to always listen to you and consider your feelings.

- To make it up to you, Steve chooses something simple but thoughtful, probably something he knows you love. It could be as quiet as a walk through your favorite park or as gentle as a handwritten note tucked into a book you’re reading. Steve understands that sometimes, it’s the little things that mean the most. He’ll give you the space to talk, letting you vent if you need to, always steady, always attentive.

- Once the air clears, Steve is more affectionate than usual, holding your hand, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, grateful to be back in your good graces. He values trust deeply and doesn’t take your forgiveness for granted. Steve knows relationships take work, and he’s fully committed to making it work with you, one respectful conversation at a time.

Natasha Romanoff

- Natasha doesn’t like it when things are off between you two, but she’s used to people being mad at her. Initially, she tries to shrug it off, acting like she doesn’t care, maybe even trying to ignore it. But you’re different. You’re not just anyone; you’re someone she actually trusts, and seeing you upset with her hits her hard.

- Natasha is far more comfortable dealing with enemies than emotional confrontations, so when she finally comes to you, she does it in a roundabout way. She might casually ask, “Are we good?” as if it’s not a big deal, but the nervous tension in her voice betrays her. She’s not great at apologies, so her attempt is awkward but sincere. It’s clear she’s trying, even if she doesn’t always have the words.

- To make it up to you, Natasha doesn’t go for big gestures but rather something deeply personal. She’ll take you to a place she loves—a quiet spot on a rooftop, a hidden café she discovered, somewhere she can let her guard down. She’s careful, almost shy, as she opens up a little about herself, sharing stories she rarely tells. In her own way, she’s letting you know how much she values you.

- Natasha doesn’t usually do comfort, but she’ll go out of her way to make you feel loved and safe. Maybe she’ll surprise you with breakfast or bring you something she knows you’ve been wanting. She pays attention, after all, even if she doesn’t always show it. Little by little, she’ll find ways to let you know that she’s there, committed to making things right.

- When you finally forgive her, Natasha breathes a sigh of relief, leaning in for a hug that lasts a beat longer than usual. She’s not big on words, but she’ll whisper something soft and sincere, just for you. Natasha’s fiercely protective, and after a falling-out, she’s even more attuned to making sure you feel cared for. She’ll stay close, a steady presence at your side, her quiet way of showing just how much she values you.

Bruce Banner

- When you’re angry with Bruce, he’s instantly anxious, worried he’s done something terribly wrong. Conflict isn’t his strong suit, and he’s painfully aware of his capacity for anger. He’s cautious, almost timid, when he realizes you’re upset, giving you space and time. He doesn’t want to make things worse or risk saying the wrong thing.

- Bruce spends time overthinking the situation, dissecting every detail. He questions himself, often getting caught in a loop of self-blame, wondering if he’s ever really been suited for a relationship. But even though he’s scared of confrontation, he values you too much to leave things unresolved. He wants to show you that he’s willing to work through whatever the issue is.

- When he finally comes to you, Bruce’s apology is soft, heartfelt, and a little self-deprecating. He’ll stumble through his words, not wanting to sound defensive, and there’s an earnestness in his gaze as he tries to convey just how much he wants to make things right. He’s not perfect, but he’s open to listening and doing better.

- To make it up to you, Bruce goes for something intimate and personal. He knows you appreciate small gestures, so he’ll show up with something that reflects his feelings for you—maybe a small book he thinks you’d love, or a little experiment from the lab that made him think of you. He’s shy about it, maybe a little embarrassed, but it’s his way of showing he cares.

- When you finally forgive him, Bruce visibly relaxes, wrapping you in a hug as if he never wants to let go. He’s careful, soft, and almost tentative, savoring the warmth of your embrace. Bruce cherishes the trust you give him and is deeply grateful to have someone willing to weather his insecurities. He might even joke, “You’re way too patient with me,” but the gratitude in his voice is genuine.

Clint Barton

- When Clint realizes you’re angry with him, his first reaction is a mix of regret and a slight laugh. He can’t believe he’s managed to mess things up this badly with you, of all people. He knows he tends to joke around a bit too much, so he tries to laugh it off at first, but when he sees how serious you are, his grin fades. He’ll look a bit awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing he’s got some work to do.

- Clint’s never been one to give big, elaborate apologies. Instead, he’ll pull you aside, speaking quietly and genuinely. He’ll admit that he messed up, explaining that sometimes he forgets to take things seriously or considers others’ feelings the way he should. It’s a simple, heartfelt apology, showing his honest side that not many people get to see.

- Once he’s apologized, Clint is all about making you laugh. He’ll start cracking jokes, doing his best impressions, and even pull some ridiculous faces just to get a reaction out of you. Clint knows humor is his best weapon, and he’s shameless about using it if it means making things right. He’s determined not to let you stay mad at him for long, no matter what it takes.

- When his jokes don’t quite cut it, Clint switches gears and puts effort into something he knows will mean a lot to you. He’s a guy who pays attention to the little things, so he’ll show up with your favorite takeout, a warm blanket, or maybe even a funny book he picked up just for you. He knows that it’s the small gestures that can speak volumes.

- After things settle down, Clint wraps you in a warm, comfortable hug, one arm wrapped around your shoulder, making you feel like everything’s back to normal. He’ll joke about how lucky he is that you put up with him, throwing in a wink, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind his words. Clint doesn’t take his relationships for granted, and he’s grateful you’re in his life, even when he messes up.

Bucky Barnes

- Bucky’s heart sinks when he sees that you’re angry. He’s used to pushing people away, and now that he’s got you, he’s terrified of losing you over a misunderstanding. Bucky’s first instinct is to retreat, his mind already whispering that maybe he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve you. He’ll avoid confrontation if he can, hoping things might smooth over on their own.

- But when he realizes he needs to talk to you, he’s hesitant, nervous, almost as if he’s bracing himself for rejection. Bucky approaches you carefully, speaking in a low, almost shy voice. He struggles with apologies, but he looks you in the eyes, opening up about how hard he finds it to express his feelings. He’s used to running, and being with you is the first time he’s tried not to.

- Bucky tries to make it up to you in the most low-key, thoughtful way possible. He’s not one for grand gestures, but he’ll do something meaningful and heartfelt, like leaving you a note explaining how much you mean to him or bringing you something that he knows you love. He’s nervous about whether it’ll be enough, hoping you can see the sincerity in his actions.

- When he feels things softening between you, Bucky relaxes just a little, offering his support in any way you need. He’ll stay close, maybe cooking a meal for you or sitting quietly with you, sharing a comfortable silence. He wants you to know that he’s there, without needing to say much, because he’s always believed that actions speak louder than words.

- When you finally forgive him, Bucky is beyond relieved. He’s more open with his affection, drawing you into a tight embrace, his touch lingering as if he’s afraid to let go. He knows he doesn’t have many people he can count on, but he’s grateful that he can count on you. Bucky’s still working on believing he deserves happiness, but having you in his life makes him want to try.

Sam Wilson

- Sam immediately notices when you’re angry, and his first instinct is to find out what’s going on. He’s straightforward and doesn’t like tension hanging in the air, so he’ll ask, “Alright, what did I do?” in his calm, genuine way, hoping you’ll be willing to talk it out. He’s good at reading people, but he wants to hear it from you directly.

- Sam listens intently when you explain what’s bothering you, nodding and giving you his full attention. He’s respectful and thoughtful, making sure you know he understands where you’re coming from. He’s not the type to dodge blame; if he’s at fault, he’ll own up to it right away. There’s no defensiveness, no excuses—just an honest desire to make things right.

- To make it up to you, Sam takes you on a simple, meaningful outing—something where the two of you can connect and have fun. He’s all about shared experiences, so maybe it’s a long walk, a favorite food spot, or even a small adventure he’s planned just for you. He’s careful, attentive, making sure the focus is on you and helping you feel valued.

- When things calm down, Sam offers a mix of humor and reassurance, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and promising to do better. He’ll look you in the eyes and say something like, “I don’t like seeing you mad. Tell me if I mess up again.” He’s genuine and open, showing you he wants to grow from this experience and be a better partner.

- Once everything’s back to normal, Sam goes the extra mile, making sure you’re laughing and relaxed. He’s always there to lift you up, pulling you in for a warm, affectionate hug and giving you his full, unwavering attention. Sam’s presence is solid, reassuring, and he’ll make sure you know just how much he values having you in his life.

Peter Parker (Tom H.)

- Peter’s heart sinks when he realizes you’re angry with him. He’s young, a little clumsy with emotions, and absolutely hates the idea of upsetting you. His mind starts racing, thinking of everything he could have done wrong. He gets a little panicked, maybe even rambling apologies before he knows what’s going on, hoping you’ll give him a chance to explain.

- When you tell him what’s bothering you, Peter listens carefully, nodding along with wide, earnest eyes. He’s genuinely sorry, his voice soft as he stumbles through an apology. He’s never been great at handling relationship tension, but he’ll try his best to make sure you know how much he cares and how sorry he is for letting you down.

- To make it up to you, Peter goes for something heartfelt, maybe even a bit awkward, but completely sincere. He’ll show up at your window with a little homemade gift, something quirky and thoughtful—perhaps a playlist he made just for you or a funny little gadget he put together in the lab. He’s earnest, a little shy about it, hoping you’ll see how much effort he’s putting in.

- Peter spends extra time trying to lift your spirits, using every ounce of his playful personality to make you laugh. He’ll crack jokes, do silly impressions, or even attempt a bad dance routine just to get you smiling again. He knows he’s a bit of a dork, but he doesn’t mind if it means cheering you up. Peter’s all about making you feel comfortable and loved.

- When you finally forgive him, Peter’s face lights up with relief. He’ll pull you into a warm, enthusiastic hug, holding you close and babbling about how he’s “the luckiest person in the world” to have someone like you. He’s young, optimistic, and just incredibly happy that you’re not mad anymore. To Peter, you’re his world, and he’ll always do whatever it takes to make you feel special.

Stephen Strange

- When Stephen realizes you’re angry with him, he’s a bit taken aback. He’s used to being right and doesn’t often see things from others’ perspectives, so it takes him a moment to understand the weight of the situation. His initial reaction might even be a little defensive, but he quickly catches himself, knowing that with you, he has to try harder to listen and understand.

- Stephen struggles with apologies, often trying to explain away his actions or getting caught up in technicalities. He’s intelligent and analytical, but that doesn’t always work when emotions are involved. Eventually, though, he manages to offer a genuine apology, admitting that he’s not always the easiest person to be with and that he respects you enough to take responsibility.

- To make things right, Stephen will probably use a bit of magic to create something special just for you. It might be a small charm to keep you safe, a little illusion to make you smile, or even a glimpse into some place you’ve always wanted to see. It’s his way of saying he cares, using the one skill he knows best to bring you a little joy.

- As he tries to smooth things over, Stephen is careful, more attentive than usual, and visibly trying to understand your emotions. He may not be great at expressing his own feelings, but he’s willing to try if it means keeping you close. He’ll listen to you, nodding thoughtfully, and maybe even opening up a bit about his past mistakes and how much he values you.

- Once you forgive him, Stephen is visibly relieved, though he keeps it subtle. He gives you a small smile and pulls you close, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms around you. He might even joke, “Guess I need to work on my bedside manner,” but there’s genuine affection behind his words. Stephen knows he’s lucky to have you, and he’s determined to keep learning how to love you better.

Thor Odinson

- Thor is visibly surprised when he realizes you’re angry with him. He’s naturally cheerful and doesn’t take most things too seriously, so the idea that he’s done something to upset you takes him off guard. At first, he tries to brush it off with a booming laugh, but when he sees the seriousness in your eyes, his smile fades. He immediately wants to fix things, willing to do whatever it takes to get you to smile again.

- Thor is quick to apologize, his voice earnest as he promises he didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s not one to overthink things, but he’s deeply sincere, and his apologies come straight from the heart. He’ll look you in the eyes and tell you he values you and never meant to cause any harm, his words laced with the kind of honesty that only Thor can deliver.

- To make it up to you, Thor goes all out. He’ll sweep you off on a grand adventure, maybe a spontaneous trip to Asgard (or at least what remains of it), or he’ll bring you somewhere beautiful and awe-inspiring. Thor loves to celebrate life and wants to remind you of all the incredible experiences the two of you can share. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he hopes that a bit of excitement will make things right.

- As you spend time together, Thor is extra affectionate, showering you with praise and hugs. He’s genuinely sorry and makes sure you feel loved and appreciated, maybe even telling you tales of his own mistakes and what he’s learned from them. He might tease himself a bit, but it’s all to make you laugh and remind you of his dedication to you.

- When you finally forgive him, Thor’s smile lights up the room. He laughs, pulling you into a bear hug, lifting you off your feet, and spinning you around. There’s nothing subtle about his relief and joy, and he’s not afraid to show it. Thor values you immensely and will do everything he can to make sure you know how much you mean to him, promising that he’ll try to be a little more mindful in the future.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

you will never believe how much tbz has taken over my world- I am actively finishing a new Hyungwon X Reader work- and my brain keeps going 'hehe younghoon' ... like babe- are we not working rn?...

[prismdewdrop]

dangerous territory 

Summary: jason todd may be exhausted after a long night of vigilance, but if you've stayed up late just to talk to him, he's going to make sure he knows exactly why.

or: jason and reader are both idiots and should probably just kiss, but they're idiots, so they do... whatever this is instead.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: mention of jason's death, mention of dead animals (in reference to the plot of john wick)

Tags: roommates in love, late-night conversations, mutual pining, jason is a little bit of an asshole (affectionate), he's not beating the little shit allegations, jason todd loves reader and is soo not normal about it, pov jason todd, everyone is 18+

A/N: long-time jason todd lover, first-time fic writer!

this work was inspired by @notnotacowpoke 's roommatesverse with jason, and they've been absolutely amazing with betaing and just going insane with me over this. you can read their work on ao3 :))

please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or in the tags! thanks for reading <3

edit (a big thank you): omg thank you so much for the response, everyone! i genuinely can't believe my first fic on a sideblog got so much of a reaction, and I'm so, SO grateful. my inbox is open for your thoughts or requests for jason and his roommate reader! i'd love to say hi and explore this au some more!

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"Jay?" 

The sleep-soft call melts the night and the pain away. 

Halting his lonely trek to his room, Jason Todd turns towards your voice. A fresh bruise catches at the quickness of his movement, but he tucks away the wince into the back of his throat.

You're standing at your door, peering into the dark in his direction.

"Yeah, babe?" 

A low hiss makes it out of his throat as the endearment falls from his mouth. He waits to see if you caught it. You sounded exhausted, drowsy with much-needed sleep, and even in your apartment, the city was never quiet. Whether you heard it or not, though, you don't acknowledge it, waiting to hear a confirmation from him.

His heart aches for a split second, recognizing the fatigue in your voice, like the second skin he wears every day, accompanied by the tinge of fear that keeps him alive – and keeps you waiting to hear for sure if it's him.

"It's me. What's up?" he says again, louder this time.

You open the door wider, stepping more clearly into his view, just a little past the doorway. One side of your face and body is splashed in the ever-glistening lights of the city that leaks into your apartment in a haze of light gray.

The patch of light helps, and so does his helmet's night vision.

He can see you now, and like always, a breath catches in his throat–even rumpled with sleep, you look lovely and soft.

To you, he knows that he's just a larger patch of darkness against the dimness of your shared living room.

"You're back earlier than I thought you would be," you say finally.

He can see the concern flit over your face as you do your best to scan him in the darkness, checking in vain for any obvious wounds or hurts. He watches as your concern deepens when you're unable to make out anything in the dark, still reluctant to ask him to step into the light

"Slow night," he shrugs. 

He steps closer to you, not fully into the light but close enough that you can make out more of his form. He sees the relief wash over your face and your shoulders loosen a little as you clock his unaffected stride and note the lack of any visible wounds. He doesn't mention his new bruise. And he won’t, at least not until you tell him what it is that has kept you up so late. 

"I – well, I was waiting for you to come back..." 

A pause. 

You pull your lip between your teeth, eyes darting over his face, shoulders climbing towards your ears with tension. He can practically see your mind whirring, and he can see the exact moment you decide against finishing your sentence. Your eyes drop, and your shoulders with them. 

A sigh. 

Then: a small smile.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Which... you are. Clearly. I think. At least, you look—"

You stop yourself, realising that you were babbling. With a pasted-on sheepish smile and an awkwardly cheery wave, you turn towards the door. 

"Well! You must be tired, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow morning!"

The forced cheer cuts through your fatigue for only a few seconds as you rush the words out and turn towards your room, and he sees the corners of your mouth dipping down the moment you think he can't see your face. You're not a bad liar, by any means. It just so happens that most of the time you're together, you're the only thing Jason sees.

"No."

"What?"

Confusion contorts your face as it snaps to look at him again. Your eyebrows knit together, lips pursing and pushing out into a pout. It's cute, and he's quite sure you have no idea you do this.

"I'm going to camp right out here," he gestures at the (incredibly uncomfortable) couch as he looks straight at you, challenge evident in his voice and in the set of his squared shoulders – "And I am not resting until you tell me what you need."

You frown, lips pressed together into a tight line. You're weighing his response, trying to piece together just how serious he is. Jason reaches up to unclasp his helmet, lifting it off and letting you see that there's very little humor in his eyes – just enough to soften you into spitting out what you really wanted to say — but not enough to let this go.

That's enough for you, though, even in the limited light. Only three months of cohabitation and somehow the both of you could read each other just as well as the stacks of books that crowded the apartment – well worn, annotated, so many of them in various states of disarray, torn and stained and bent, nearly all with cracked spines, but still so so beloved.

He can read you a little better, though, what with his years of vigilance and, well. Everything else that followed.

Jason knows you – the same way he knows the locations of all of Bruce's safe houses, or the exact number of times he could call Tim 'the replacement' before something heavy would be launched at his head. That is to say, concerningly well.

There wasn't a twitch of your eyebrow or a blush or a glare or an angry press of your lips against each other, or a quirk of them (he may have studied your lips especially well) that he hadn't committed to memory, that he didn't know by heart. He wonders if you know, and he wonders what you'd think if you did.

Another sigh, your shoulders sag further, and he makes a mental note to take you through some exercises to improve your truly terrible posture.

"Jason, it's really nothing that can't wait till morning, I just –"

"Come on, dude," He scoffs, not unkindly. "I know you wouldn't have stayed up so late if it wasn't important enough to keep you up."

He nods at the dregs of coffee in the mug you'd forgotten on the centre table for emphasis. There's no hiding from the world's third (or maybe fourth?) best detective that it's the special, strong type that you usually reserve for the most daunting of deadlines.

You swallow up the rest of your words and let out a huff. This time, it's more frustrated than tired, and he can see the flash of irritation in your eyes. You glance away from him, arms coming up to clasp your elbows, encircling yourself in a loose hug. Discomfort radiates off of you in waves, and as you sink your teeth into your lips again; he notes the steady rise of your shoulders towards your ears.

A flash of annoyance goes through him. Not at you — never at you — but whatever new inconvenience this city has wrought for you. Whatever it is that has you up and walking around at 3 AM in the morning after a draining day of work and study and worrying about him.

He fights the urge to step closer, to wrap his hands around your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin and loosening the tightness in them. It would be so easy — there's barely four feet between the two of you, in a few steps he could be holding you and —

He stops himself from following that particular train of thought.

Red Hood faces open gunfire head-on almost daily. Sometimes, he even takes an explosion or two to the face. Then there was the time he'd died, followed by all the times he'd almost died. And he still couldn't remember the last time he'd felt true, bone-deep fear.

But this, this was dangerous territory he was terrified of treading. Yet he was unable to deny the existence of the temptation, always tugging on something in his chest like a low undercurrent, occasionally crashing over him in a wave of desire to touch and protect and hold. To slip his fingers through yours, through your hair, over your lips, between them.

He wonders if you know how easily he can read you, see the way your mind is running through excuses and half-truths to throw him off right now, extricate yourself from this uncomfortable situation and put a safe distance between you again. He should let you do it, really. Even you know that this territory is... not for you. Which is why you were now teetering at its edge after taking these few hesitant steps towards it – him.

But still. He can't ignore the tug. He can deny the waves, stop himself with a savage jerk on his mental reins. That low undercurrent, however – he nurses it, lets it guide him. He has to. It hasn't been long since you met, but he already doesn't know what he would do without it guiding him back to you, day after night after day, painful blow after near-death encounter.

And so he narrows his eyes at you, ready to counter anything you say that isn't the truth.

He feels like a dick; he really does – dangling his well-being in front of you to get you to just stand up and say it. He does this sometimes, pushing you and inconveniencing you – borderline bullying you into being honest with him.

But he knows he's right to be doing this. You have enough fire in you to push back when need be, when he crosses a line, and knowing you, you would've stormed back into your room without a backward glance and with a slam of your door, if whatever this was wasn't bothering you so much.

"I..." You paused to glare at him, just to show him that even if you were playing along, you did not appreciate playing his games.

Jason hides his smile and just raises his eyebrows.

Hands clenching into fists, you glare up at the ceiling as you wrestle with your words, as if hoping for divine intervention.

Another sigh, this time an admit of defeat.

"Fine – but I'm warning you – it's stupid –"

"With you, roomie, I doubt it is."

"Jason, can you please stop interrupting me? I'm really trying here."

Jason raises his palms in a silent apology, an acknowledgement of his dickish behavior, saving the real sorries for later.

You nod in acceptance.

"Okay." Deep breath. "I just wanted to... show you something. And spend some time with you. You know, because we haven't been able to catch up lately and I –" You stop, voice strangling around the next words, catching yourself. You take a breath before continuing. "And I could really use your... insights."

Your voice trails off, and he can feel you wince internally as you slip into impersonal corporate speak, an effort to avoid any words that were more intimate than they had the right to be.

Jason knows. Or at least he can make a damn good guess as to what the words you'd struggled to choke off were. He knew, sure as hell, it wasn't ‘insights ’, but acknowledging the unsaid words was very much stepping into the dangerous territory. And like you had when he slipped up and called you babe, he doesn't.

If he felt anything less than what he did feel, he would have joked about it, said something like: "Aww, bestie, I miss you too". Then you would laugh and shake your head and you would slip back into the easy camaraderie that had marked the beginning of your relationship – before Jason had started noticing the precise way in which the hearts that you signed your notes off with varied in size and number depending on the mood you were in, or the way your hand reached for his every time you crossed a road together.

So instead, he says nothing. He just waits.

"I'll be in my room," you say, arms wrapping around yourself again, a blush rising steadily up your neck and onto your cheeks. You nod at his gear. "Whenever you're ready, just come in. I'll be up."

Oh. They were to be alone. In your room. Probably on the bed. No, definitely on the bed. There's no space for a desk or chair in rooms that come with apartments in this part of Gotham, especially the ones affordable for students. No, there's only one place they can sit comfortably together.

Not that they haven't sat on your bed – or his bed – together before. They have, countless times. They've cuddled and huddled, most times with a pile of snacks for company.

On the days they'd given up on any possibility of productivity, they'd marathoned all their comfort movies and franchises before falling asleep, arms around each other, legs tangled, and depending on who'd had the worst week, a head tucked under another's chin, lead gently into slumber by the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat.

They'd binged Lord of the Rings (NOT The Hobbit series; you both agreed that that was a waste of time, though Jason had stronger, angrier feelings towards it than you did), almost all the Austen adaptations (you could never decide which Emma you liked better – the one with Anya Taylor Joy had the beautiful production and a great depiction of the relationship between Emma and Harriet, but the one with Gwyneth Paltrow had a certain charm, and the leads good chemistry); John Wick that one time – he'd adored the way you'd poked him and asked him if he could do/had done some of the particularly impressive stunts (he could, and you'd been thoroughly impressed); Fast and Furious – only till the sixth one though – Jason personally thought Fast Five was where they should have ended their binge, but you were partial to the sixth one (because of the romance, you said), and Jason had grudgingly accepted it's merits. 

That was, what, at least 40 hours of just watching movies? And that didn't even include the time they'd spend just hanging out together, reading silently, or watching something on their own (though one of them would inevitably end up joining the other).

No, he's definitely been in your bed, comfortable with the tugging undercurrents of longing in every laugh you shared, the way you'd sniffled unfailingly at the last march of the Ents, and when his eyes watered at the ride of the Rohirrim, the way you'd both sighed at Darcy's confession, and when you'd turned to Jason as you watched John Wick lay waste to New York's criminal underworld in revenge for his dead dog, and ask: 

"You'd do this for me, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, good. I'd maybe hire someone to do this for you, since you know. I can't kill a man with my bare hands."

You could kill a man with your smile, though, Jason remembered thinking. You killed him a little every day and brought him back just as well, each time just a little bit more whole than the last time he'd been brought back to life.

Sure, he'd been in your bed. But not like this, not when the darkness of the night had melted that thing in his chest – the thing that searched for you the moment he woke up – and brought it out from where it was safe in its cage, to the back of his mouth, the tips of his fingers, the pupils of eyes – poised right on the edge of saying, doing, showing the wrong thing.

Say no, the admittedly miniscule part of his brain that didn't leap to fulfill your every wish insisted. They've given you an out already. Just say you're more tired than you look and talk tomorrow. This isn't just treading - this is running blind and unarmed into dangerous territory. Say no.

But... they miss me, the overwhelmingly persuasive part of him that ached to sweep that particularly unrepentant loose curl into place every day reminds him. They're up and they're worried and they want me to come talk to them because they miss me. I miss them.

His heart twists. He can't say no, never could.

Jason wonders if you know that he would walk into a shootout blindfolded, without armor and with a grin, if that could bring you anything worthwhile. He turns a fond smile your way, his careful expression melting away. 

Your breath catches as the corners of his mouth lift. When Jason smiles like that, his eyes crinkle, they shine at you as if you're all he sees, and it was heartachingly beautiful in it's rarity.

Jason's smile was a golden patch of sun on a cold day; you're powerless in its wake to do anything except curl up in its warmth and bask – always longing for more and more. 

"You know I wouldn't say no to that. I'll be right there,” he says with all the seriousness of a wedding vow.

You fight the urge to linger, to drink in his smile with your eyes and infuse every inch of your body with it's sweetness. You force a small smile of your own and with a wiggle of your fingers, you return to your room, feeling his gaze settle on you until you close the door behind you gently.

He doesn't hear the click of the lock, and so when he heaves his own sigh of defeat, it's in the safety of his own room, between him and the busy silence of the city.

[daycourtofficial]

One single thread of gold tied me to you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 6.2k | Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, piv, foodplay (chocolate), oral (f and m receiving)

Summary: After a century of waiting, Eris and his mate finally have a few days to themselves to accept the mating bond.

Author's note: this is technically part of my gingerfucker series but it can be read as a standalone. Big thanks to @basketoffish for help with plotting the idea for it and for helping me edit ❤️ The people have been frothing and yearning for this and who am I deny such want any longer?

Eris never had good timing. Born too soon, bearing the brunt of his father’s cruelties. Born into a war he was too young to fight in, but too old to stay at home. 

All of his poor timing was worth it for this perfect opportunity. Beron would be away for three days and three nights to improve relations with Tarquin, the newest High Lord of the Summer Court. Beron went alone - he perceived it as much more intimidating to go alone (perhaps inspired by Tamlin’s appearance in the High Lord’s meeting a few years ago, winnowing in completely unaccompanied). Beron failed to recognize Tamlin’s appearance was much bolder - he knew he would face scrutiny, but still made an appearance without anyone at his side. Beron merely did it because he wanted to look more intimidating.

Nonetheless, Eris was able to send word to you with enough time for you to rearrange your royal appearances to carve out this time with him - an entire three day span, just the two of you. Three days felt like a lifetime when the two of you were only able to schedule hour-long secret meetings.

Once, in a desperate bid just to have your scent on him, you two had met for a total of twenty minutes.

Your rendezvous were often short, full of imminent risk and danger of being caught. Today felt like a blessing from the Mother, as if she were granting her star crossed lovers a vacation, a peek into what life could be like - what life will be like one day.

You two just had to be patient.

Even an entire court away, Beron would know someone from the Night Court was on his land. Perhaps not immediately, but he would know before your three days were over. So the two of you met in the Winter Court, in a cabin you were gifted a long, long time ago. A cabin you’ve gone to on occasion over the years, whenever you needed to get away and be alone. You had set the trap perfectly for your family - you were getting into petty squabbles the entire week, picking fights with Cassian and Mor left and right that left the two of them reeling with annoyance.

Your brother tired of it quite quickly, clocking it for what he thought it was. 

“Perhaps you should spend a weekend away, star.”

His tone was full of concern, for this was how you always were before retreating to your hidden cabin. Irritable, crabby, unable to have decent conversation with anyone without leading them into a spiral of anger.

“I’m fine,” you reply, intentionally clipping the words to make yourself seem in a much worse state than you were. “Besides, I have some scheduled meetings this weekend.”

Rhys nods, “Feyre has agreed to take over any duties you have that can’t be rescheduled.”

You perked up at that, feeling a little bad at the generosity of his mate. You hadn’t felt easy about this plan - preying upon your family to get what you wanted wasn’t a regular occurrence for you. 

But you refused to let any negative feelings about what you were doing get in the way of seeing your mate.

“Are you sure, Rhys?”

He waves a hand, “Go, please only return once you feel rested and headache-free. Cassian is quite adept at giving migraines.”

You smile, “so no one will bother me?”

He sighs at your continued questioning, “no, star. I think we’d be too afraid to bother you, except for Amren. And she’s in Summer for who knows how long.”

He stands up, crossing the room to you, his long legs practically gliding across the floor. He wraps you in his arms, squeezing you tightly before kissing you on the top of your head. He gently sways the two of you as you wrap your arms around him.

“Thanks, Rhys.”

He lays his head on top of your own, “just send word if you’ll be gone longer than a week. I just want to know you’re alive out there.”

This cabin was a frequent rendezvous point for the two of you, much cozier than the large clearings and forests you two otherwise frequent. The cabin was more ideal, however Eris couldn’t deny how incredible it felt to be inside of you as he leaned you up against various trees in the forest, the leaves crunching beneath his boots as he thrusted over and over into you.

His cock twitched at the thought as he walked towards the front door of the cabin. The door groaned slightly as he entered, marking his entrance. He felt the slight magical barrier ripple as he passed the threshold. He shut the door behind him, taking in the small, two bedroom cabin before him. 

The place was quaint and cozy, an insult he would use to describe Rhysand’s absurdly large and ornate homes, but for you it was a testament to how infectious the comfort you radiated was.

It permeated every surface - the walls, covered in various portraits and landscape paintings, along with shelves of books and trinkets.

His scent was stale from the last time he was here, but yours was fresh, as was the smell of some delicious meats and fresh breads. He closed his eyes and leaned his back against the door, catching a glimpse of you as you pittered about the kitchen. He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself a moment to think of what his life could be like if the two of you were ordinary fae. 

He would come home from whatever job he had, perhaps a scholar of some kind, leaving at the same time every day to come home to his mate. 

You two would clean your house together, bickering over your inability in any universe to put dirty socks in the hamper, and how in every universe feet would continue to make Eris shudder in disgust. In any other life, he would be thrilled to experience monotony with you.

But he’s not in another life, one of openness and free-flowing adoration, one free of constant plotting and scheming, earning favors wherever he can. He’s in this one - the reality where no one knows about the two of you, because once they do it will become an inter-court political nightmare. It is a life of stolen glances, hidden messages, and secret meetings under the moonlight, but it is a life that belongs to him, when for so long his life was not his own.

Eris would love you in all lives, your soul reaching to him in every iteration and reincarnation of the two of you. If the two of you were nothing but bacteria living on the same organism’s skin, he would find you. He would know it was you, no matter what shade of organism you wore.

The bond hums in your chest, tugging you to look towards the door where you know Eris is standing and watching. You continue the task at hand, not wanting anything to miss your notice. The bond deep inside of you grows more and more insistent, screaming at you to smell him, taste him, feel him, here, here, here. He’s here, in your house, and you need to look, look, look. 

You let Eris come to you, just as you always had, just as you always will. You’re slicing bread, placing the pieces in the bottom of the bowls when the smell of petrichor and caramel hits your nose, a warm presence at your back. 

“Good evening, my fox.” 

His face burrows into your neck at the nickname, melting into everything that was you. His arms wrapped around you, hands meeting yours. His fingers pull the knife from your grip, gently placing it down on the cutting board.

“What are you doing, my evening star?” His voice is purposefully low in your ear, causing goosebumps to trail down your neck, his hands warming your fingers. 

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

His soft chuckle warms your chest, the bond constricting around your heart at his amusement.

“Are you cooking?”

“Yes, Er.”

“I’m surprised your wraiths didn’t prepare anything for you.”

“They did,” you hum, turning in his arms, his amber eyes meeting yours, not quite certain of what they’re seeing.

His hands meet your hips, his touch warm on your skin, and you circle your arms around his neck, fingers raking through his hair at the root.

He hums at your touch, his face swooping down to kiss your forehead. 

You look up at him under your eyelashes, his nose and cheeks littered with freckles, mapping out where home was. You point your head in the direction of two large picnic baskets, one of which was opened for Eris to see various jars of jams and breads.

“Why would you-” his words fall short, his thoughts racing through his mind. They stream by in words and bits of phrases, but no completed thoughts make their way through the whirl and swirl of mate, food, and bond.

He short circuits, not quite grasping what you’re getting at.

“I have never gotten to cook for you,” you shrug nonchalantly.

His eye twitches, still not understanding.

“You’re cooking… for me?” His words come out slow and uncertain, as if the mere concept of someone choosing to do something like this was absolutely foreign to him. You nod slowly, not used to seeing Eris so incapable of understanding. 

“But if you-“

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll-“ 

“Yes.”

“Are you-“

“Yes.”

He stills, his thumb lightly brushing against your hip. Your eyes are open and bright, wanting to convey to him the certainty you felt. You lightly tug on the bond connecting the two of you and he rubs his chest at the feeling.

It’s quiet as the snow falls outside, unaware of the monumental decision you had decided on once Eris’s letter had arrived earlier in the week. You had spent the past few months researching traditional autumn foods, preparing for this day. You had known for quite a while you were going to accept the bond, you just didn’t know when the two of you would have the chance to spend more than a few fleeting hours together. You had sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother when you received Eris’s letter, soft prayers echoing through your mind each night ensuring this would all work. 

“Is everything ready?”

His eyes peer into yours, a vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see, even you. His words come out soft and slightly timid, as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off.

“Yes, we just have to bring the food to the table.”

“May I help?” He doesn’t move towards the food, but one of his hands twitches, moving imperceptibly closer to you.

“I would appreciate that.”

It’s quiet as you two move to the food, grabbing platters and bowls to bring to the table. Once the table is full, a three course meal laid out in front of the two of you, the reality set in a bit. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Eris, but you were slightly concerned you were forcing his hand with this. 

This was always ‘someday’, but now it was here and you didn’t know how he truly felt about it. That was until he grabbed your plate, placing the still warm pita in front of you. You placed a piece of pita on his own plate, and he looked at the baba ganoush before him, its texture so unlike anything he had seen in Autumn. “What do I do?”

You ripped a piece of your pita off, dipping it into the bowl, grabbing some of the baba ganoush on it before offering it to him. He inspects the piece, before doing the same with his own piece of pita, bringing the piece to your mouth. 

“Eat. This might be the last time we’re rational enough for food.”

The two of you bite down on the pita, the warmth of the bread with the chill of the baba ganoush, the smoky, rich flavor exploding in your mouths. The room immediately shifted with the scent of your mixed arousals, but the two of you ignored it. His fingers lingered on your mouth, swiping at your lips before ripping off another piece of pita.

Heat was coursing through your veins, Eris’s emotions thrumming through you at a higher intensity. He felt electric in your veins.

You continue feeding each other until the pita’s gone and your attention shifts to the bouillabaisse. In similar fashion, the two of you poured the soup into the bowls with the bread before setting them down. You were thrumming, every part of you screamed to be closer to him, your thoughts having a background loop of mate, mate, mate.

“How did you know about bouillabaisse?”

Eris’s words send heat through you - his voice, soft and low, the actual words not registering with your insatiable need for him.

“Beg your pardon?”

His smirk is feline as he knows exactly why you didn’t hear him, but he repeats his question with no teasing.

“I um, found it a few months ago - I was in Dawn and a little restaurant served it.”

You could feel the sweat on your brow as you watched Eris’s fingers bring another spoonful to his mouth. You thought about all the things he could do with those fingers, that mouth, that tongue-

“Nobody in Dawn serves this. It is a regional dish, more specifically it is only found on the seaside of Autumn.”

Busted. 

You take another bite of the soup, the flavors so different from Night Court cuisine, but you weren’t complaining. Several of the fish in the soup were only found along the coast of Autumn and Winter, some making it as far north as Dawn.

“I may have perused some Autumn Court restaurants when I was visiting once.”

Eris stretches out the fingers of his hand, moving his long fingers in torturous preparation before placing his hand on your thigh. His touch was so warm, you began pulling at the collar of your dress to let the heat escape, biting your lip to keep the moan from escaping.

“When were you allowed in Autumn?”

“Fine,” your voice came out sharp, the room much too hot for an interrogation, “I snuck into Autumn a few months ago trying to find something to make you for this. I tried a bouillabaisse at this incredible little restaurant and I paid them an exorbitant amount of gold to teach me how to make it and to not tell anyone I was there. I slipped back in yesterday to pick up the fish in this soup.”

His fingers dance about on your thigh, and you take a quick glance down at his pants, your body growing warmer at his cock pressing across his pants, desperate to be released. You can’t move your eyes away from it - knowing how it looked, how it felt in your mouth, how it tasted - you were about to start drooling before Eris’s hand came up and closed your jaw.

“Strip.”

Eris’s words were a demand, full of power and need.

“But we still have dess-“

Your words died on your tongue as Eris began unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes caught on his lean chest, littered with freckles. You were in need, too, practically salivating at your mate’s display of his body, and you can’t quite remember why you wanted him to finish the whole meal.

He huffs over to you, his hands grabbing the fabric of your dress, ripping it in half down the middle. You gasp as the cold air meets your skin, somehow making your nipples even harder.

You stare at him wide eyed, even more aroused than before. At this point, you knew your panties were doing very little to keep your arousal from coating your thighs.

“You took too long,” he snarls, undoing the ties of his pants.

You had begun pulling the remnants of your dress off your shoulder, but stopped to watch your mate hook his thumbs into his trousers and pull them down, letting his cock free. 

You move forward, ready to jump on Eris, but his hand on your chest stops you, eliciting a whine from you. His other hand grabs the molten chocolate cake you had made, slowly lifting it out of the ramekin. He holds it delicately in his hand, the other hand on your chest moving up to your hair, tugging gently on the strands to pull you towards him.

Your chests were touching, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He blazed with heat, his cock hard with need pressed into your stomach. His cheeks are dusted with pink and his blood was boiling inside of him, but he moved ever so slowly, his fingers meeting your chin. He looked into your eyes, the two of you the only beings in the world right now.

“My mate.”

Anything could be happening outside of the walls of this cabin. The snow could have all melted, a heat wave sending the Winter Court into chaos, and you wouldn’t know. All you would know was Eris’s gaze on you, mapping out every inch of your body so he can remember every detail correctly when he thinks about this once you two are apart. His thumb applied pressure on your chin, opening your mouth. He placed the cake in your mouth, whispering, “don’t bite, not yet.”

You moved your hands to his hips, holding onto him. One of his hands moves to help hold the cake up, his other holding onto your neck. He puts the other end of the small cake into his mouth and lightly tugs on the bond. You both bite into it, the liquid chocolate center immediately cascading down and coating both of your chests. You both make quick work of finishing the remainder of the cake, tearing and gnawing at the soft dessert until you finish it off. He catches your lips in a kiss, the taste of the chocolate a luxury on his tongue.

You jump, feet slipping slightly on the bits of chocolate that made it to the floor. Eris’s arms catch underneath your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips. He lays you down on the table, moving his lips from your mouth, down the column of your throat, down your chest. You’re pulsing with need, desperate to feel any friction from him. You thrust your hips up, desperate to meet any feeling of him against you. His arm moves across your hips, pushing you down against the table. He shakes his head as he keeps kissing down your stomach, lifting his arm for a ring of fire to take its place around your waist.

He skips over where you want him, instead moving his head down to your thigh, licking up towards your hips. His tongue was hot as it slid up your inner thigh, lapping up the chocolate that had dripped down it. Your breathing was ragged as you felt his hot tongue growing closer and closer to you, and it felt like it was getting warmer the further it moved up your thigh. 

You looked down at him, his amber eyes that were full of heat all you can see of his face as his tongue finally slips between your folds. You moan at the contact, throwing your head back and hitting it harshly against the table. The pain didn’t register, not as Eris - your mate - was moving his tongue as if he knew every part of you, as if he knew exactly how you felt as he would warm and cool his tongue at his leisure. He lifted his mouth just an inch, his words slightly muffled by your body.

“You taste of desperation. It’s delicious.”

You moan at his words, and he flicks your clit with his tongue. His hands warm on your thighs, pressing them further apart. He slips his tongue back through your folds, your hands gripping onto his hair to keep his mouth on you. He grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders before one of his hands disappears. You are writhing on the table, his grip on you lighting your skin on fire. The room grows heavier with the scent of his arousal, and you twitch your ears at the new sound in the room.

He was moaning into your pussy, the vibrations coursing through your body as you realized the hand that left you was wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously. The thought of him being so aroused at eating you out that he has to touch himself sends you over the edge, your thighs clenching over his ears as you finish on his tongue. Your breathing was heavy, and Eris’s tongue did not let up, lapping like a starved male. You pulled him up by his hair, bringing your face to his. Your tongue swipes into his mouth, tasting a combination of yourself and chocolate on his mouth. You grab his shoulders, deepening the kiss as you flip him onto his back, pressing him onto the table. His hands grip onto your hips, trying to push you onto him, desperate for any touch from you. He whimpers as you tug his hair, pulling him into you.

You place teasing bites as you move down his torso, leaving mark after mark in a line towards his happy trail. You purposefully rub your breasts against his cock, smiling up at him as he groans, your breath hot on his crotch.

You lick from underneath his shaft, your tongue slowly moving from the base to the tip before putting his cock completely in your mouth. He tasted like cinnamon with a little salt, the chocolate flavor on your tongue making him taste incredible. His hands move, gripping onto your hair as he chants your name - a prayer, a plea, you weren’t sure. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and his hips thrusted trying to push himself deeper into your mouth. 

You wanted to tease him about needing to touch himself while his mouth was on you, but you felt the same compulsions as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You resist the urge to move your fingers to yourself by digging your nails into Eris’s thighs, leaving half moon indents. His grip grew tighter on your hair, pushing your head down harder as he got closer to finishing, his moans filling the cabin as he finished, the hot taste of cinnamon filling your mouth and coating your throat as you swallow it. You pull your mouth off of him, his cock twitching again at the look you give him as you lick your lips.

He growled and you swiped your tongue up his still hard cock. He lunged for you, jumping off the table before his teeth sink onto your nipple, pulling the skin with his teeth. You gasp, pinching his nipple back in response. 

“Do you think there’s something there about eating to accept the bond and what we just did?”

You waggle your brows at him, but his eyes are a bottomless pit of black. Gone are the amber hues of fallen leaves, replaced by an endless void of hunger. You lean up to kiss him, the taste of both of you swirling between your tongues. You start walking backward, knocking into one of the chairs. He catches you, one arm hooking around your waist. 

His pointer finger moves up from your belly button to your neck, swiping up the chocolate left behind. He puts his finger in your mouth, having you suck the chocolate off. 

“Maybe we should get cleaned up.”

You smiled around his finger, swirling your tongue around it as you looked up at him from under your lashes. You nodded, taking his whole finger into your mouth. He breathes in deeply through his nose, his eyes swirling with desire before you. His other arm loops around your waist, carrying you through the cabin. Your giggles echoed down the hallway as Eris moved the two of you into the bathroom. He doesn’t set you down, shifting instead to hold you up against the wall with one arm while he turns the shower on. 

The water started cascading down the both of you, sweeping the remnants of the chocolate down the drain. Your feet hit the floor as Eris pushes the two of you forward, your back hitting the wall. The water fell over your face, making it hard to see him, but you could feel everything about him. You felt his skin on yours, your chests pushed together. You felt his emotions thrumming inside of you, bouncing everywhere, filling every available space. You had heard of the bond being accepted as an all-consuming thing, but you found any previous descriptions to be wholly inadequate. Every inch of you burned for him, thrumming with need to be near, to have him with you, to have him inside of you. 

He grabs the bar of soap from the shower, lathering it onto a wet washcloth before rubbing it against your body, rubbing the chocolate from both yours and his skin. 

“I never thought accepting the bond would be so messy.”

Eris’s hand guided the wash cloth across your shoulders, your sternum, before taking his time as he rubbed it against your breasts. His thigh slid between your legs, separating them. Lean muscle pressed against your cunt as you sank onto his thigh. His lips were on your mouth as you ground onto his thigh. He tossed aside the washcloth, his hands gripped your hips, harshly moving you against his thigh. 

“My beautiful, beautiful mate.” 

His voice was husky, echoing through the shower, further cementing that feeling he was everywhere.

“Gonna fall apart on my thigh?”

His lips move down your neck, teeth sinking into skin.

“We have all weekend for me to put every part of me to good use.”

You threw your head back, hitting the wall softly. One of Eris’s hands moves behind your head, cushioning the blow. His grip is unforgiving as he continues moving you, his thigh rubbing your clit so perfectly. Eris looked so beautiful before you, his pale skin a soft shade of pink from the heat radiating off of him. 

His irises have shrunk enough for you to see a slither of the amber you love so much. You could feel him thrumming in your chest and you swore if you looked down, the room would be alight with the gold tie between you two. You gripped his shoulders as he pressed his thigh into harder, sending you over the edge. 

You’re reeling from the orgasm, but Eris’s grip doesn’t let up. He uses his other leg to spread your legs again, and his hands move down to your ass, picking you up before sliding his cock into you. It feels right when he’s inside of you, the pounding in your head subsiding, the heat dissipating for just a moment before it was replaced with the need for more, more, more.

Your head moves across the tiled wall as Eris thrusts into you. You grip his hair, pulling his face to you again before kissing his mouth, needing to feel him everywhere. You’re all teeth as you nip and bite across his neck, up his jaw, on his earlobes. The shower does little to hide the whimper he lets out. 

His fingers grab your face, pulling you from his ear to his mouth. He kisses you hard and passionately before pulling out of you and turning you around. Your hands press into the wall as his hands roam down the sides of your body, sending chills throughout you.

One of his hands ran through your hair, wrapping it around his hand, the other wrapping around your waist, holding your back to his chest. The water streamed down the two of you, but you hardly noticed as he kissed your neck, pushing you against the wall.

You moan, pushing your ass against his cock. He growls as one of his hands traces from your hip down to your upper inner thigh, gripping tightly.

He bit your shoulder blade, pushing deeper inside of you. The pressure inside of you kept building, the water streaming across your skin growing hotter. Your blood was boiling, you weren’t sure where you stopped and Eris began. His thrusts became harder and more erratic, his fingers gripping so tightly you were sure they’d bruise. 

Eirs held you in an iron grip as he came inside of you, his release causing you to finish again. Arms braced against the wall as you panted heavily, Eris softly pulled himself out of you. His hands rubbed down your arms, and you stood up straighter, albeit on shaky legs. His eyes were roaming your body, looking over all the marks leftover from your tryst. The two of you were no strangers to rougher sex - most of the time you two were only able to satiate each other against a tree for mother’s sake. The tiles were no concern to you, but you knew Eris felt something deeper within him, guilt perhaps at how little control he had and the marks a reminder of that. Having a bond was new, but accepting the bond was utter chaos. A thousand emotions rattled through you, unsure of who they truly belonged to the most dominant ones were to protect and to fuck.

Eris slipped his arm out of the shower, his head going with it. You took the moment to gaze down at his ass, the little freckles scattered across it gave you the urge to bite the plump flesh. He came back in fully with a washcloth, and your gaze softened. You reach out, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

“Er, I don’t care, we’ll probably be going at it again in twenty minutes.”

Despite your protests, he broke free of the loose grip you had on him. He brought the cloth up under the water, letting it get properly drenched. 

“I know.” 

He moved the washcloth down between your legs, his touch impossibly gentle compared with the male who was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise moments ago.

“We’ve just never gotten to have this part before.”

You think back to all the times you two have met - in the woods, in secure cabins, in closets to find that he was right. Every moment alone the two of you had counted, and neither of you were ever able to linger for long after sex. 

Another thing the secrecy cost the both of you.

He looked to you, asking silent permission, and you nod. He moved the washcloth, cleaning the remnants of himself off of you. He rinsed the washcloth again before moving it across your skin - your stomach, your shoulders, your arms. He lingered, taking the time to clean every inch of you. He laughed, pointing out you still had some chocolate behind your ear. Once he finished, he reached to turn off the shower, but your hand stopped his. 

His eyes are assessing as you slowly grab the washcloth from him, your own eyes reflecting his previous question. He nods, and you start your own work of cleaning him. Your eyes trail his body, taking in how vulnerable he is in this moment. You hummed softly, the tune of some song you can’t recall the name of. The sound makes some of the emotions inside of you die down a bit, replaced by a calmer feeling. Eris tips his head down as you wipe at his back, the scars there almost mirrors of your own.

The cloth moves down him, but you stop to kiss a few of the scars on his upper back. Once you’re done, you drop the washcloth on the floor, wrapping your arms around his torso. Eris’s hand reaches out, shutting off the shower, but not making any indication he wants to move. 

Eris’s love sitting inside of you felt different to the love you felt for him - synonyms, perhaps. But not quite the same.

After several minutes, you grabbed some towels from the cabinets, offering one to Eris. He slings it around his hips lazily, lifting you into his arms. You had barely wrapped yourself in the towel before he scooped you up.

The two of you land on the bed, decadent in shades of blue across the massive sea of blankets and pillows. The only reminder that neither of you were in your home courts. Eris taps your chest, the reminder you felt about having to leave him leaking over to his side of the bond.

You two settle on the pillows, discarding your towels to lay beneath the large duvet. You climbed on top of him, settling on his chest. His cock grew hard again, and you moved so you could settle with him inside of you. 

You traced your fingers over his freckles, connecting them with your finger. “I can make constellations out of them,” you tell him. 

The roar has subsided enough for you to feel like a person again rather than a beast. You know it’ll come back, in minutes or seconds you weren’t sure, but you wanted to spend whatever time with him like this that you could.

Eris thrusts softly inside of you, watching your eyes look for patterns in the freckles across his cheeks.

“Perhaps you can make me a constellation that will always lead me to you.”

You chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him softly. Your mate. You feel the pit inside of you start to roar, but you swallow it down, opting instead to search inside of yourself, finding that golden thread tethering you to him, and pulling.

“It appears I already have.”

He flips the two of you, laying you on your back as he slowly puts himself inside of you again. He fills you up completely, reaching the base of his cock before stopping and just staying there. 

“Mm, Eris.”

He smiles, his arms landing on each side of your face, caging you in. He moves a few strands of hair out of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

He smiles down at you, his freckles dancing across his face, the sunlight illuminating his hair to look as if it were made of flame.

His fingers tangle in your hair, lightly holding on. 

“You are everything to me.” 

His voice comes out soft and slightly shaky, as if the admission were almost painful. He began thrusting slowly, but this felt different. Anyone who had ever thought Eris Vanserra incapable of being soft should see him now.

“I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

His thrusts became faster with each word, but not harsher. 

“I will always take care of you.”

Your fingers grip his shoulders, your thumb softly rubbing the skin.

“And I you.”

You were reaching that peak again, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t feral, the need to satiate the physicality of the bond, but rather to remind yourself that you two were bound together, forever.

“I love you, mate.”

His words have you seeing stars, and you practically feel yourself leave your body, but you hear yourself say, “and I love you,” as Eris finishes inside of you.

He collapses on you, his cock still inside of you. You both are breathing heavily, unable to get enough air into your lungs. He collapses on top of you, his arms digging beneath you to wrap you in an embrace. 

No touch was enough, even as you wrapped your own arms around him, peppering kisses into the side of his head. The two of you lay there, eventually Eris peaks his head out from your neck to watch the snow fall outside the window. You think about the many lives you could lead with Eris Vanserra - how much simpler your lives could be if you were born of different circumstances. 

But those Erises wouldn’t be the one laying on top of you now. They wouldn’t have as sharp of a tongue as he does, or perhaps their noses wouldn’t slant the same way his does. You could lead a thousand lifetimes with a thousand Erises, each one different from the next. Your thumb grazes his cheek, deciding that easy was never meant for you. It was never meant for Eris, either.

In those thousand lifetimes, the only edge they have on this one is the ability for you two to be more free about your love. 

You wouldn’t have to return to your respective homes, glamouring the scent of your mating bond from those around you in a bid to mitigate the unwanted comments from those around either of you. Beron would be excited, an intercourt mating would come with tremendous benefits for him. Rhysand would be pissed, your entire family shocked at the secret, unable to bite their tongues from disrespecting your mate with the twisted truths.

Secrets can only last for so long. They all get spoken at some point, and one day everyone will know how you have been carrying Eris’s love for years, how it has carried you for much longer than you thought, and how it will still carry you wherever you need to go.

Even when it’s in the opposite direction of him.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Eris taglist: @secret-third-thing

Thanks for reading 💕

[dovesdreaming]

hear me out! totally oblivious reader to ben’s flirting. to the point that people eventually point it out and readers just like HUH?! and like ben’s abt to stop bc he thinks the reader is uncomfortable but she finally confesses!!

so like kinda angsty but MAJOR fluff at the end!!

thank you!!

You like me?

This was such a good request thank you!! I feel like it has potential for a part two like the after math but idk?? Hope you enjoy!! <3

Word count: 1.1k

Not edited yet

Warnings: none

You and Ben had been friends since you could remember. You had always relied on and been there for one another. There wasn’t a world that you could imagine yourself without him in.

Many people confused you as a couple hearing comments like “you’re so cute together!” Or “how long have you two been together?”. You would always be first to deny it, Ben never really saying much. It never changed your relationship with Ben though. You assumed people thought you were a couple because of your close nature, you could admit it was like you were attached at the hip. You always had your hands on the other, always touching in some sort of way. It was natural to you and you never interpreted it in any other way because you and Ben had always been like this together, even though if you were honest with yourself you did want it to be more but you knew Ben never saw you like that.

It was a normal day, you and Ben lounging together in the gardens of Auradon. You had your head in his lap as you both relaxed for the afternoon. Ben was in his own world reading a book while you daydreamed, your mind wondering to different thoughts with some being about Ben. You wondered what life would be like if you were dating but it made your heart ache so you made yourself focus on something else. You looked around the gardens but you were only faced with multiple couples being wrapped up in each other. It was like they were in their own bubbles of love, completely absorbed in the other as though nothing else existed. It weighed on you and your emotions ran high. You needed to be away from Ben before you did something that would ruin your friendship, you quickly stood up and excused yourself from Ben making some excuse you can’t even remember before nearly running to your room. Ben was left in a state of shock as he didn’t know why you left so suddenly.

While you were in your room trying to fight your emotions for Ben off you didn’t realise Ben was trying to get rid of his for you aswell. Ben had been trying to show his feelings for you for a while now. He had tried many ways without actually saying the words, this included gifting you many things that a boyfriend would only do (flowers, jewellery, soft toys, you name it), he would always be showing you love through his touch (he would run his fingers through your hair, make the hug last over the friendly amount and would even cuddle you on the sofa -sometimes in bed!) and he would always want to be in your presence yet you never caught on. It seemed as though all your friends and strangers saw the love he had for you but you couldn’t or this was your way of telling him you weren’t interested. He thought over all your interactions and instead of focusing on the lovesick glances you shared or the subtle touches his doubtful mind focused on how you always corrected strangers when they mistook you as a couple and how you would always get irritated if your friends teased you with the idea of Ben. He focused on the very small details and his mind had decided that you weren’t interested. He shouldn’t confess to you because you showed that you weren’t interest in him and that he should back off, so he did. The next day when he joined your conversation with your friends instead of putting his arm round your waist like usual, he just stood next to you. His arm longed to be around you but he had to take your feelings into consideration.

When you got back to your room after a day of school you were left confused and unhappy. Ben had been off with you today, he’d been so distant. You sulked in your room til after dinner, refusing to come when your roommates, Evie and mal told you that you should eat. It had gone dark outside and you were staring out at the sky hoping a shooting star would go by so you could wish for Ben to come back to you.

Mal and Evie quietly came back in and decided to confront you about your unhappiness. You couldn’t hold your feelings in anymore and finally confessed how you liked Ben but you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. You told them how Ben had been distant all day and all they did was turn to look at each other before lightly laughing. You frowned even deeper “this isn’t funny, i like Ben and don’t want to loose him”. They stopped laughing but still wore a smile when they explained Ben had feelings for you and he had distanced himself because he thought you weren’t interested. Your thoughts spiralled and your heart raced. Ben couldn’t like you. Could he? You thought back on everything and it al clicked into place. You finally figured out what that small shine was in his eyes when he looked at you, the shine that everyone saw and thought you were a couple because of. You stood up, your thoughts were jambled and nothing was coming out straight but you knew one thing. You wanted to see Ben. You ran out the door into the night forgetting everything, even your shoes, you just had to find Ben. Before the door shut a shout of “go get your man!” Was heard from either mal or Evie, you weren’t sure and your mind was to busy to figure it out.

You arrived quite could outside bens dorm room. You took a breath everything happening in slow motion as you moved your hand to knock on his door. It swung open to reveal a solemn Ben.

He looked the most confused you’ve ever seen him. You went to talk but realised you hadn’t planned what to say to him when you finally saw him and nothing came out of your mouth, your mind still racing. Feeling impulsive at lack of better judgement with your adrenaline at an all time high you longed forward and captured his lips in a kiss. He was quite shocked before kissing back, eventually moving so that one of his hands was on your hip and the other holding your neck, his fingers just tangling in your hair. The kiss grew more passionate before abruptly breaking so that you could breathe. You both stood on bens doorstep staring at each other, knowing exactly how you felt about each other for once.

Thank you for reading!!

[futurewdclandonorris]

A Helping Hand | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: feeling frustrated, you go to George for some aid where he offers to help you blow off some steam

Warnings: smut

A/N: goodness, this is the most I've spent on proofreading, rewriting and editing than on any of my other fics, probably because I babied this idea for a long time 💀 and probably because I was sick for the past few days that I couldn't do anything else except thinking about George taking care of me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it 🥰

You were frustrated. The irritation was welling up inside you, and there was no telling why. And nothing going your way wasn’t helping either. But what it is that you always do whenever you feel like this?

You go to George.

George and you were best friends for as long as you could remember. He played enormous role in your life, in a way that you would often refer to him as an older brother. No one else even came close to being as important to you as he was. He was always there to listen when you needed to rant about something, and the two of you were just as comfortable sitting in silence as you were engaging in deep conversations. Today was no different.

You walked over to George's apartment, knowing that he wouldn't mind your unannounced visit. You knocked on the door and waited a few moments before he answered, your mind racing with all the things you wanted to vent about. The door opened, revealing George’s smiling face.

“Hey there, buddy,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “What’s got you so worked up?” he questioned upon seeing your slumped shoulders and frowning face.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just know I’m feeling a lot and it’s not good.” you walked further into his apartment, running a hand through your hair.

George followed behind you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, "I don't even know what's bothering me. I'm just feeling so damn… restless." and leaned against his kitchen bar.

George nodded his head, eyes fixed on your face. He knew that look and the manner in which you spoke. George had experienced this before with you. You would continue to speak until the words dried up, and he knew it was in his best interest to listen attentively. And he wanted to do just that. To be a friend and not interrupt for once your thoughts were drifting by. He loved the feeling of neediness you gave him.

So you started to spill your troubles. From everything that happened to you since you woke up to this very moment in the afternoon. He listened patiently, nodding and frowning in all the right places. You continued to talk, your words flowing out in a jumbled mess as you tried to make sense of your emotions. George listened intently, offering words of encouragement when needed. As you spoke, he moved closer to you.

It wasn’t a subtle move, you very much noticed him getting up and walking up to you, caging you in between his arms he rested on the counter behind you. He bowed his head so that his eyes were in level with yours and leaned forward, the words dying on your lips as he did so. Your faces were now only inches away, the air around you charged.

“When was the last time you got laid?” he asked.

You were taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. “W-What?”

He took a step back, giving you space to breathe. “You, my friend, are sexually frustrated.”

You hadn't been with anyone in a while, he was right, like he always was, but “And how do you know that?” there was annoyance in your voice as you crossed your arms.

He sat down in one of his kitchen chairs, leaning on the table behind and legs spread lightly.  “How long have we been friends for?”

“Almost twenty years. Why?” you frowned, not really seeing the point of this conversation.

He gave a slight nod in agreement. “And in that long period of time you think I wouldn’t have learned your,” his gaze traveled up your body until it finally settled on your eyes, “body language?” his tongue clicked.

You swallowed hard, feeling the atmosphere between you two shift. There was definitely an undercurrent of something more, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to go there just yet.

“This-That has nothing to do with this.” you choked out.

“So you’re saying,” he moved his head from side to side. “If I offered you a solution you would say no?” his eyes found yours again and his gaze was piercing.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as George's eyes locked with yours. You had expected a hug or some words of comfort, not a proposition. You knew what he was insinuating, and part of you was tempted to take him up on his offer. But the other part of you was hesitant, unsure if you were ready to cross that line with him.

You had to admit, the idea was tempting. George was an attractive man, and you had always felt a certain level of chemistry between the two of you. But did you want to risk your friendship for a moment of physical release?

“I…”

Upon noticing your hesitation, George decided for you. “Come here.” he patted his thigh.

Bolts of electricity ran through your body  at his words. There was no denying that the idea of him taking care of you in that way was incredibly arousing. And before you made up your mind, your legs carried you over to him.

He took your arm, leading you in front of him. “Turn aroud. Sit down.” he instructed softly.

“On y-”

“Yes, y/n, on my lap.”

If he wanted to, he could pull you by the arms and just place you there, but he waited for you to slowly sit down yourself, resting your hands on his knees, your back to him.

“Good girl. Now,” he leaned forward, hugging your waist. “If in any moment you feel uncomfortable or just want to stop for whatever reason, I want you to tell me. Alright?”

“Okay.” you nodded, his intense stare more than you could handle.

You were familiar with being this close to George; you'd even slept in the same bed side-by-side without any issue. You had held each other before, but his touch was always comforting and platonic. This time however, something more hung in the air - an energy that made your heart race with anticipation.

“Good.” he kissed your tense shoulder.

George's hands caressed your body with practiced ease, gently running down your sides, across your abdomen, up and down your jean clothed thighs in order to help you relax. Gradually, you leaned into him, your breaths deeper. His lips smoothed over your neck and you let out an unwilling moan.

“You’re doing good.” he reassured and you nodded, affirming that you heard him.

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, diving under to caress your stomach. They were warm, but your back arched on a sudden skin on skin contact. He stopped for a moment until you relaxed again. Moving upwards, his fingers grazed the lace of your bra before he glided his palms to cup them.

You gasped and bit your lip, surprised by the new sensation of his hands so close to your growing chest, and leaned back on him even more, your nipples hardening. You loved the way George touched you, the way he made you feel. His hands ran up and down between you and your bra, squeezing your globes. His lips found your ear, nibbling on its lobe before he spoke.

“You have a beautiful body.” he whispered huskily.

A shudder ran up your spine at the pure lust in his voice. His right hand slipped under the cup of your bra, freeing your breast. You didn’t protest, you felt good. Instead, you arched your back more, pressing your chest more against his hand. His thumb and forefinger found your nipple and pinched and pulled on it, making you moan.

George lowered his head and licked your neck, kissing it softly and nipping it occasionally. His left hand joined in the fun and massaged your other breast, pinching its nipple just as his right hand was doing. You clamped your eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of his touch.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

You leaned back once again, despite your best efforts. Now his right hand made its descend down your stomach, making you wriggle in his lap, and reached the button of your jeans. Popping it open, that’s when you opened your eyes as well.

“George,” you gulped and put your hand over his. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” he pulled you closer, pressing his lips reassuringly to your neck. “Are you not?”

“I’m just worried what it means to us, our friendship. I don’t want to ruin it.” you finally voiced your concerns.

“You won’t ruin it, babygirl.” he smoothed over your hair. “Friends help each other out, don’t they? You can look at it like that.”

“Yes, but…” We shouldn’t be doing this… you thought to yourself.

“We can stop if you-”

“No!” you were maybe a bit too quick to cut him off. “Let’s continue. I… I like it.” you could feel the heat rush into your cheeks.

He kissed your neck, working his way up to your ear. “I’m glad. Cause so do I.” his hand went back to what it was doing.

He pulled down your zipper, but didn’t push your pants down, exposing just your panties. His hand went back to your breasts, kneading them, feeling their weight. Every now and again his hand would brush past your nipple, sending tingles down your body.

You’re breathing was growing heavier, his hands were good at what they were doing and you didn’t want it to stop. He could feel you squirming in his lap, his smirk evident even though your head was turned.

“Someone’s excited.” he teased.

“S-Shut up.” you bit your lip, embarrassed.

His fingers dipped under the elastic line of your panties, and you were glad that you decided to shave that morning. His fingers ran over your mound slowly, feeling every curve, every spot. He circled around your clit, teasing you, before he moved further down, dipping one finger in a bit before pulling it back out.

You moaned and he chuckled. “You like that?” you nodded, trying to contain your moans. “You want me to continue?” you nodded again, too aroused to speak.

His fingers dipped deeper inside your folds, feeling the warm, wet sensation. When his fingers reached the bottom, he started to rub your entrance, pressing just a bit, sending pleasurable sparks through your body.

“Mhm,” he moaned into your ear, “my babygirl likes that.”

“Yes.” you shook your head, agreeing.

“Tell me.” he demanded.

“Yes, I like it. I want it.”

His finger pushed a bit further inside, and you bit your lower lip, unable to keep quiet. “You want what?” he asked in a low voice.

“I want it.” you said in a higher pitched voice, trying to sound like a grown woman. “I want your fingers inside of me.” you blushed.

“You want more?”

“Yes. Please.” you ground onto his finger, your hips following his thumb’s rhythm.

He pulled his hand out of your pants and you audibly expressed your dismay at the lack of contact. He responded by placing his hands on your hips and forcing you up off the chair. Tugging your jeans down, you stepped out of them and he was quick to pull you onto his lap once again. With a nudge from his knee, your thighs opened into a desirable position. His arm was securely locked around your waist, making sure that you wouldn't move away or slip off his lap.

“Now,” he played with your panties, pushing them aside. “You said you wanted more?”

“Yes, George. Please, George.” you whined.

“Only cause you said please.” he smirked and you could feel his teeth graze your skin.

His finger entered you again, slowly, stretching you, moving only an inch or so before pulling out again. When he felt that you were ready for more, he rhythmically started to finger you, gauging your reaction. His finger pushed a bit further in, making you squirm. He pulled it back out, a bit of your juices clinging to it before he thrust it back in. You gasped, feeling the full sensation of his finger inside of you. He added another finger, and you moaned, squirming on his lap, feeling so full. Your breathing had turned into moaning, echoing through the empty apartment in which you were in.

"Shh, babygirl, it's alright. You're doing good.” George’s free hand tangled in your hair, pulling it back, your exposed neck bared to him. He nibbled on it, biting and sucking, loving your reactions.

“Just, please, more.” you begged him.

“I don't think you're ready for that yet.”

His fingers became more insistent inside you, pushing deeper and deeper. He rubbed your g-spot, making your moans turn into pants.

“No, no, no, no.” you panted. “Please, just a bit more.”

“Would my babygirl like to come already?”

“Yes, please, I’m so close.” you said, almost crying, needing to come.

“Let me hear you say it.”

“George, please. I want it. I need it. Please.” you begged.

“God, I didn’t think hearing you beg would be such a turn on.” he confessed, his voice a deep rumble.

“Please, I need it. I need to come. I love it when you touch me like that. Please!” you were almost screaming by the end.

He went back on rubbing you, his fingers moving faster and faster. Slipping his thumb a few times inside you while his fingers were busy doing you, the other hand clamped on your hip for support. His thumb pushed in deeper, your juices coated it and he rubbed your g-spot with it, making you squeal.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.” you said over and over again, panting.

“Come for me.” he hissed and his other hand wrapped around your throat, holding you gently.

You didn’t even need his encouragement, your whole body was aching for release. His fingers moved faster, rubbing your g-spot, his thumb pressing hard against it. You were soaked, his fingers gliding inside you. You moaned, louder than before, mumbling incoherently.

Your hips bucked on his lap and he held you in place, his fingers continuing their assault on your body. You were his toy, his play thing, and you enjoyed it more than you should have. You didn’t care anymore, you were drowning in pleasure, letting it consume you.

Lights burst behind your eyelids when you came, biting hard into your lip, muffling your screams. Your whole body relaxed from the pleasure, your arms giving out and you would have fallen if he had not held you. You leaned against him, recovering from your orgasm. Your head was laid on his chest and all you could hear was his breathing, slowing down.

When the orgasmic waves subsided, you became aware of your surroundings again and blushed.

“Th-thank you.” you stammered, chest still rising and falling visibly.

“You’re welcome.” he kissed your temple. “Feeling better now?”

“Yes.” you nodded.

“Glad I could help.” he said, his fingers playing with your hair, combing them through.

“You did, but George… This can’t happen again.” you finished, standing up to find your jeans. It was just an excuse to put some physical distance between you for you don’t think you could get the last part over your lips if you were still sitting on his lap.

“Oh,” was all he said. You couldn’t determine was he disappointed or the realization hit him.

“We are friends and I want it to stay that way. You are too important for me to lose over... such thing.” you zipped up your pants.

“I understand.” he said, his voice not betraying his true feelings.

You had expected it to be hard to say it, but it didn’t feel like a lie at all, it felt like the truth. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Thank you.”

He meekly nodded. “Do you want to stay over? We can watch tv or something…” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay.” he smiled and you smiled back.

You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in blankets on his couch, laughing as you watched bad television shows and poking fun at the characters and plots. Between you two was no uneasiness; you were laughing together like earlier events hadn't happened. And that moment looked like a promise that, no matter what, nothing will ever change between you two.

Or so you thought...

Next part

[ktjislove1119]

what being pharmony's seventh (favorite) member would be like⁷ㅤ

-> p1harmony x seventh member! male reader -> can be read as platonic or romantic, i tried keeping it ambiguous and balanced in this aspect

warning : some members refer to you with honorifics (hyung) so if that makes you uncomfortable then ... scadattle idk + i made you in between the hyung line and maknae line (so younger than keeho, theo, and jiung, but older than intak, soul, and jongseob) + not proof read !! i will edit in the morning, im knocking out rnnnn

rating : mushy fluff, some get sentimental but for the most part it's really just

a/n: ive been cooking this one for a long time guys !! also the reader is said to speak english well, but i don't think...that's a huge concern bc...but wanted to make note of that before you read on lol (even though its only mentioned a handful of times) + i want to lowkey make this a series !!! not a continous storyline-esque series, but installments of the same reader with piwon, if that makes sense...

wc : 14k+...idk i guess that each members individual headcanons are ??? 2-3k+ long...anyway....

yoon keeho — the relationship you’d have with keeho would be a mix of how he treats soul and intak. you guys had trained together for a very long, long time, but he still is always looking out for you and has you in the forefront of his mind. he worries about you a lot because you have been putting a lot of pressure on yourself since pre-debut and he’s really perceptive when it comes to you. he doesn’t baby you, though, because you guys aren’t that different in age, but he does check in with you in his own special ways.

the season of work that was preparing for overseas schedules and tours was always the most gruelling. it was much more demanding than simply promoting domestically since it involved remembering new things like choreography, positioning, and cues, which almost always changed slightly with each stop.

it was late now and there were barely any people left in the building to practice, but you were still working hard in trying to keep up with all the changes. just as you were about to start the music to one of the tracks, the door behind you had opened up and keeho was standing there with a not surprised look on his face.

“i knew you’d be here,” he said simply, “why aren’t you back to the dorm already?”

“i still need to practice some more, the tour starts soon,” is the simple explanation and keeho hums in understanding, closing the door behind him and pulling out a chair that was nearby. “what are you doing here?”

“keeping you company,” he says quickly, moving over to plug his phone into the wall and then watching you with his arms crossed over his chest, “after you’re done, we can walk back together too,”

“how did you know i was in this room?”

“[name], you’re the only one still here it was very easy to find you,” he chuckles, spreading his legs and rubbing his eyes as he got more comfortable in his chair. “why do you always have to overdo it when tour is about to start?”

“i just want to make sure i have it down,” you sigh, already knowing the direction this conversation was going.

“okay, then practice for only a couple more minutes and then let’s go home,” he proposes, pointing to the clock in the corner, “it’s way too late and if you really want to make your performance the best, getting good rest is the most important.”

“fine, fine,��� you wave him off, going back into positioning and getting ready for the music to start.

you run through the choreography a couple more times without keeho inserting himself, simply watching with tired eyes as you worked. the practicing came to an end about half an hour later and he looked thankful you were finally calling it wraps.

as he waited before, he was scrolling through his phone aimlessly, occasionally filming you without you being aware, and when you stood in front of him to leave, he excitedly locked his phone and cheered.

an arm came around your sweaty neck and shoulders, as well as his hand rubbing your stomach, “our [name] always working so hard,” he compliments, making you fight against his hold — out of uncomfortableness of how the sensation of his skin against your sweaty one felt. but his grip was tight and he even smooshed your cheeks together in his excitement.

“let’s eat some good food at the dorm, for you to recharge,” he comments, turning off the lights on your way out and shutting the door behind you two.

“what good food? the leftovers from last week?”

“if that’s what we have, then that’s what we have,” he sighs, trying to remember what was in the fridge.

“i can also just make a protein drink for dinner, we can share it,”

he looks at you disgusted before saying, “we are not having a protein shake for dinner — minus the fact that’s just not healthy, they’re disgusting so, no. we will eat the leftovers,”

you laugh at his definitive tone and facial expressions, accepting his proposal and walking out of the building side by side.

— keeho is really sweet and understanding with you, but does tend to put his foot down and become more stern when it regards you and your health habits. he is always the first one to remind you when to take breaks and go easy on yourself, but won’t force you to do anything that he says. if he suggests you take a break, but you don’t want to, he’ll wait on the sidelines for you to tire out and then guide you back to the dorm. his method of doing this actually proves to be really effective as it leads you to take more breaks because no one is actively forcing them on you which makes them more appealing (if that makes sense).

— he’s also really touchy with you, as he is with all the members. the thing with you is that you really welcome it. you’ve understood since you were trainees that one of keeho’s biggest habits is that he loves being in physical contact and close with those he cares about most. and he cares about you very deeply. back when you were still trainees, he’d often find himself sharing your bed with you since he didn’t want to be alone and wanted someone to be near. even now after debut, it’s still the same sentiment of: wanting to always have someone in his corner that he can express outward affection with as a means of self-comfort.

“[name], come here,” keeho calls, waving his hand to you in a hither motion with his phone propped up in his other. the entire group was waiting in the green room for their next direction of the music show. but seeing as it was just a waiting time, everyone was doing their own thing. keeho was watching a video on youtube, but wanted someone near as he did so, which is why he called you.

approaching with your own phone in hand, you didn’t even look up as you sat beside him and let his arm fall on your shoulders.

“what are you watching?”

“i forgot how to get the hidden move, so i have to watch a youtube tutorial,” you complain, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips.

“wah, gamer boy,” he says in english, making you weakly slap his stomach. he doesn’t even flinch, merely laughing as he continues to watch whatever was on his own screen. the hand on your shoulder stays in position, occasionally squeezing you for no apparent reason.

simple touches and actions like this summarize the way keeho shows affection with you. sometimes it’s grand actions like a kiss on the cheek (something especially grand when he does it in public settings) or big, tight hugs in private, but either way: keeho is going to be showing affection to you one way or another, public or private.

the setting doesn’t really deter him because he feels like, if he wants to show affection with you the place doesn’t really matter. even if you’re standing at a fanmeeting and he’s feeling more expressive at that time, he will go over to you and just absolutely smother you. the fans can coo and “aw” all they want, some will probably think it’s purposeful fanservice, but to keeho it’s just him wanting to show you affection.

keeho leans into your ear from his position on your back (he was hugging you from the back) and whispers, “do you want to go to the cafe afterwards?” making you smile and nod, turning to look at him as you answer.

considering how close he was to you, this made your face inches apart and something that was worthy of fans screaming over. but it didn’t faze you two as you casually carried on, “the one near the dorm? will you buy me the cheese danish?”

keeho chuckles, squeezing your cheeks together and bumping his forehead with yours. he stands upright and slightly backs away from you, “yeah, let’s go,” since that phrase wasn’t whispered, the fans were going crazy over the part of the conversation they could hear and their curiousity was high.

“where? go where?”

“keeho, where are you taking [name]?”

“we’re running away together,” keeho jokes, sticking his tongue out as he pretends to drag you away.

”where are you going?”

“nowhere!” you say in a sing song voice, obviously teasing the crowd.

the playful banter riles them up, making everyone hyperfocus on you two until one of the other members does something that steals all their attention.

lucky fans that had seen you two at the cafe had went onto social media and teased: “this is where keeho meant when he said they were running away together, so adorable” with a picture of you two standing in line, standing close to one another. there was then a selca the fan had taken with the two of you attached beside it, making other p1ece envious of how lucky the girl was.

“were they are seriously that close the whole time? they’re so clingy with each other T.T” to which the original poster responded, “they really were — their chemistry is real, guys. the whole reason i recognized them was because i saw them standing in line and thought, wow, keeho also holds onto [name] as tight as this man does. keeho really doesn’t want him going anywhere, it’s cute!”

the affection-ridden and patient relationship that keeho and you share is one of the favorite dynamics for p1ece to see since it’s a refreshing one. seeing the two of you be most comfortable with each other, no matter where you are, makes them feel happy to witness such a pure form of trust and adoration.

choi taeyang — theo is a guy that’s super big on teasing, he makes a lot of jokes based off of teasing and they usually end up with everyone in the room laughing. what’s something interesting that has been noticed by some staff as well as p1ece is that, taeyang tries especially hard in making people laugh and uplifting the mood when you are there or nearby. there have been many instances of people editing theo’s eyes watching you the moment he makes a joke, an expecting look on his face that gets washed with relief and achievement when he sees that you do end up laughing. taeyang finds that his relationship with you is really, really fun and full of laughter, which he intends to keep that way for as long as possible.

you guys were filming for another installment of your variety show; saessak harmony and you and theo were placed to be on the same team for the “guess the kpop song” challenge. towels were wrapped around your heads as you continued on playing and eating, at the same time.

theo, keeho, soul, and you were all placed on the same team against jiung, intak, and jongseob. thankfully, keeho was very good at the game and was scoring the majority of your points, allowing the rest of the team to be more relaxed. you were sitting in between soul and theo, watching with a grin as keeho scored another point for your team.

“yah, [name], look,” theo whispers, showing you the egg that was in his hand. you watch in interest, then burst out laughing at his sudden action. it caught the attention of the rest of the group, but you were too busy falling into theo’s neck to even properly notice. he put his arm around you as you laughed together, almost completely collapsing backwards in your laughing fit.

“what? what? what?” jiung asked, wanting to know what was so hilarious, as well as everyone else in the group too.

theo was too busy holding onto your body to stop it from hitting the ground to properly answer while you were too occupied with laughing.

”these two are always interrupting filming,” intak accused, “please spray them with water as punishment,” he cheekily requested, everyone bursting out in laughter as they saw that the staff had actually sprayed the two of you with the water gun.

now you and theo were a mess on the floor, holding onto each other as you were relentlessly attacked with water from the staff.

“what even was so funny?” keeho asked once everyone had settled down more, making you wave off his question and insist on moving on to continue on the challenge.

— taeyang really values spending free time with you, he likes to just be in your presence. even if you guys aren’t doing anything particularly interesting, just being with you is enough for him. he doesn’t really enjoy going out the most, but he won’t deny going out with you — unless he really isn’t up for it. but most of the time, for convenience sake, you two are staying indoors. you two will rest in the same bed together, but not speak a work to one another. and it’s comfortable that way, which he can appreciate. he doesn’t always need high energy level atmospheres surrounding him and you really do help calm him down, just by being near so he likes monopolizing on that.

— one of the things that theo has picked up nowadays is learning the guitar. and he has proper lessons with his teacher very often, but the person he wants to show off his newly acquired skills to the most is you. when it comes to things that taeyang is proud of, he likes to show them off to you first. because he knows it’s always a judgement free zone (not that it wouldn’t be with the other members, it’s just having you be the only one watching and complimenting him is what he desires most). he loves hearing all the impressed sounds you make and curious questions you ask him, even if he himself is a pretty beginner level player. he’ll pretend as if he has all the answers to impress you further.

“play me your favorite song on the guitar,” you request, sinking into the mini couch that was in the studio.

“i don’t know how to yet,” he truthfully admits, plugging the guitar into the amp and rolling the chair closer to you, “i’ll play you a snippet of what i’m learning now though, for our solo performance. it sounds pretty,” he comments, looking at you and smiling at the way your eyes lit up at the mention of his solo song.

the strings are strummed lightly and taeyang is depending on no one but himself to not mess up and embarrass himself in front of you. there are a couple of times he mistakes a string for another and strikes it by accident, but each time that happens you don’t seem to notice or you ignore it on purpose. he smiles at your amazed expression, finishing the song with a sigh and awaiting your feedback.

“that was amazing, taeyang,” you compliment, smiling so brightly and genuinely at him that he feels a blush crawl onto his face.

“it wasn’t much, but i’ve been working hard on it to make it sound perfect,” he admits, making you even more eager in complimenting him.

“it was so good, you’ll be in perfect shape by the time the tour starts,” you add in, making him put his hood up as a weak attempt in hiding his face from you. you tease him, putting your hand beneath the hood and affectionately rub the top of his hair. “a true rockstar, huh?”

he weakly swats your hand away, grabbing your wrist after you try evading him and putting it down to rest on his leg.

”i can teach you? it’s really simple, you’ll get the hang of it really fast,” he offers, keeping your wrist enclosed in his hand as he rubs the skin gently, “c’mon, let me teach you,”

making the easy decision of accepting, you welcome the guitar into your lap and theo into the seat next to you. for longer than you two realized, you were in the studio by yourselves learning the chords to the song “until i found you.” occasionally, he would tease you for your below beginner level guitar skills, but for the most part he wsas genuinely teaching you and hoping you’d learnt his song.

“maybe we can do a duet on stage,” you joke, but theo doesn’t actually seem to mind it. he brushes your hair out of your face and behind your ear, a kind smile on his lips as he nods in agreement.

— theo is really gentle and caring with you, in the physical sense. he doesn’t show as much affection as keeho (that’d be hard), but he does show that he cares and is always looking out for you in other ways. there have been compilations made online of all the subtle things theo does to look out for you and p1ece gush over it constantly. neither of you know of these videos existence, but if theo ever did become aware of it, he’d definitely blush in embarrassment of being found out + seeing his actions be made aware to everyone.

“did you see the way theo covers the corner of the table? something tells me that if it were anyone else he would’ve loved to see the member lightly hit their head lollol”

→ “he always has had a soft spot for [name]”

“here theo goes again protecting his [name]! so cute”

→ “the arm that never leaves [name]’s waist! an infamous and familiar sight”

“anyone else notice how theo always is closest to [name] when they go anywhere public? like the airport or in overseas schedules, he’s always right next to [name] T.T so cute”

— taeyang wants to make you laugh, wants your hardest laughs to be with him and wants to always make you feel the most safe and secure. maybe it’s because you were the first one to truly welcome him to the company when he first became a trainee or for another reason. but in the end, he’s always having his eye on you. he’s very aware and keen when it comes to you, coming first to your defense in any situation as well as being the person to make you laugh the most too. he’s a real sweetheart and gentleman when it comes to you and it’s painfully obvious.

choi jiung — he is someone who is very explicitly proud of you and shows it in all sorts of ways. he’s always grinning so wide whenever you are speaking at public events because he’s that proud, whenever you have a highlight point in a performance, he’s watching you with a giant grin. at their concerts and shows, he’s always hovering around you with a smile and fond look in his eyes. a lot of people have pointed this out too because of how often jiung is caught cheesing at you, but the man cannot and will not ever stop. you two have trained together for a really long time so whenever you stand on your own, he just can’t help but think of all those times when you were trainees working hard together and smile at how far everyone has come, but especially you.

the two of you were on a weverse live, sitting down and eating some food the staff had prepared for you. the other members were either occupied or doing their own activities, meaning you and jiung were the only ones that p1ece were going to be seeing today. your seats were close to each other, your thighs underneath the table and out of vision from the camera, were touching and rocking against the other.

“here, here,” jiung says, bringing a piece of dessert up from the plate and ready to spoon feed it to you. obeying, eyes zeroed in on the treat, you dropped your jaw and closed in around his fork. “it’s good, right?”

you hummed in confirmation, jiung already getting another forkful to feed you again.

“i’m not sure what this is,” you answered, reading the chat and trying to get to as many comments as possible, “but it’s super yummy,”

“very light,” jiung adds in, turning to face the camera after feeding you the second piece. he puts his fork down and also commits to reading more comments, “so cute? well, it’s only cute because [name] is cute,” he pinches your cheek, which you allow while staring deadpan at the camera, “our cute [name],” he coos, laughing at the unimpressed expression on your face.

“he doesn’t like being called cute then,” jiung finalizes, dropping his hand from your cheek and holding yours underneath the table.

“being called cute is fine, just don’t rip my cheeks off while you do,” you scold, pinching his thigh lightly.

“alright, alright,” he appeases, leaning forward and reading more comments, “what are you two doing now? just talking and eating, very calm,” he then turns to you, “do you want to go to the studio?”

you nod, “it’s more comfortable to be set up there,” jiung grabs the stand that the camera was on and hoists it up while you clean up as much as possible before abandoning the room to go to jiung’s private studio.

”p1ece, what have you guys been up to lately? i feel like we haven’t talk in a long time,” jiung makes small talk with the fans, who eagerly respond and hope to be noticed by him. he waits by the door for you to join his side, standing sideways as he watches you. “me and [name] have been working hard for you all, there is a lot that we have planned for you all. [name] has been working so hard on his vocals and we honestly will probably work more after we end the live.” he reads the flying comments, before turning to you and smiling to see that you were done cleaning up.

“it’s always fun to work with [name] because he has such a good voice,” jiung compliments, making you wave your hand in dismission. he pets your head rather aggressively, making your head bop up and down as you walk to the studio, “everyone should compliment [name] right now,”

“that’s too much!” you exclaim, slapping his hand away and pretending to glare at him.

jiung only grins and moves the camera closer to your face, “isn’t he just so cute when he makes that face?”

— jiung values his alone time sooooo much, whenever there is a chance to be alone, he will take it and is content in knowing that all the members respect that precious time for him. but once he has enough of being alone and feels energized, the first person he will look for, is you. it’s cute, how he’ll return to the dorms after spending the whole day by himself on his own little adventures, and the first thing that leaves his lips is your name. when you finally do reunite, he will grin so wide his eyes turn into crescents.

jiung looked down at his phone, a small pout on his lips as he typed back.

“do you need anything while youre in the studio jiji?”

the affectionate nickname warmed his heart and he quickly typed back, not wanting to leave you waiting long.

“no, it’s okay, i’ll see u back at the dorm later :)”

“okkk <3 get back safe”

and that was the end of the conversation.

jiung was so relieved that you were understanding of him and his alone time, it was really something he craved and needed. especially with how hectic the schedules have been, it’s been nothing but work on top of work. and he needed to take personal breathers more often than not. everyone had known each other long enough to not feel offended by his need for personal space, too, which was another big relief.

he spent a couple more hours at the studio, jumping in between personal work and anything regarding their next release. when he was done, he stopped by the 24 hour convenience store and got both him and you a bag of your favorite snacks. he chuckled, walking out of the store knowing that the other members were going to say something about it when they’d find out. right now, they were definitely already sleeping. you were always the only one awake to greet him when he’d come back, as well as any other member that would come home later than usual.

he stopped to his dorm first, changing into comfortable clothes and freshening up before walking down to yours. it was only a couple of doors down and he entered the pin, trying to keep quiet to not interrupt anyone else’s sleep. the moment he walked in, he saw you sitting on the couch and watching a random youtube video.

“[name],” he called out to you, his signature toothy grin on his face. seeing you also in your comfortable pajamas made him smile, enjoying the sight of you all cozied up and relaxed.

”welcome home,” you jokingly greeted, bounding over to him with a smile.

“thank you,” he said quietly, walking over to the kitchen table and putting the snacks down.

“ah, you should’ve told me you were bringing some over, i already brushed my teeth,” you whined, seeing your favorite snack waiting for you. he apologized with a smile on his face, but you weren’t seriously annoyed with him so you just waved him off.

”are you sleeping over tonight?” you ask, walking back to the couch with a bottle of water and tapping the empty space near you, “or are you just stopping by?”

“probably just stopping by,” he shrugs, taking the seat next to you. you hum in response, scratching your eye and fighting back a yawn.

silence soon filled the living room as you kept watching the tv and he mindlessly scrolled on his phone. when he heard you lightly snoring, though, he looked up and smiled at your sleeping form. he set his phone down and carefully got up from the couch to get you more comfortable. he wasn’t going to try carrying you to bed, in fear of waking you up. instead, he scooted your torso down to properly rest on the cushions, so you wouldn’t wake up with back pain. he adjusted the pillow you were using, as well as the blanket covering you. he tucked it in neatly, brushing your hair aside a couple of times as he was smiling softly at you.

“goodnight, [name],” he whispered, patting your head before backing away. he picked up his phone from the table and pocketed it, about to be let himself out and go back to his own dorm. he grabbed the remote, ready to turn off the tv, but stopped when he saw what was playing. he almost laughed too loud, covering his mouth as he watched the otters on the screen play in the water.

were you seriously watching otter videos this entire time?

he lowered the volume, deciding to take a seat and understand what the appeal was. he moved your legs to be on top of his lap, gently moving his hand up and down as he was now completely focused on the television.

the next morning, jongseob woke up to jiung resting his head on your hip and practically cuddling your legs as his feet hung off the end of the couch. he just shook his head and walked over to the kitchen, not too unfamiliar with the habit jiung has of sleeping over. he sees the snacks on the kitchen counter, purposely dodges yours and takes what would have been jiungs’.

other than that, he leaves the two of you to be alone, going back to his own room to rest in bed for a little longer.

— whenever you go out overseas for tour or any other activities, he prefers to spend the free time with you. unfortunately, everyone else also wants to spend time with you, so the compromise is late nights are reserved for the two of you. whether it’s just a quick walk around the block or standing out on the balcony together, jiung likes to explore new places with you, and talk about them. he doesn’t like getting overtly sentimental, so the conversations are usually mindless and comfortable. but internally, he thinks about how grateful he is to have you as such a close companion. as his journey as a trainee, you have probably known him the longest, with intak as a close runner up. he thinks that getting to see new sights and places with you is a true blessing and he hopes the two of you never let this tradition of exploring together go away. it’s something he really looks forward to every time you’re overseas.

— jiung tends to get really competitive when it comes to playing games or anything else remotely team based, usually as seen on their variety shows. but if you’re on the same team as him or the one guilty of ruining his chances of winning, he tries to keep that part of himself in check. the reason is because he’s worried of possibly scaring you or just turning you off from his behavior. now, you’ve seen him get competitive — duh, you’ve known each other for so long and it’s honestly funny to see him get so invested in a simple, childish game. but never has this behavior been targeted to you. and that’s purposeful. he doesn’t want to yell at you, ever, even if it’s just in a game setting where everyone is laughing and having a good time. it just rubs him off the wrong way. every time he thinks of the possibility of him yelling at or raising his voice at you, it leaves a sour taste on his tongue.

“what?! wait! wait! wait! wait! he’s blocking me from getting the cards!” jiung shouts, unsure of who’s hand was in his way — so focused in on the game that he was tunnel visioning on what he needed to do in order to win. the game was intense, everyone was huddled around in a circle and trying their best to empty their hands out into each individual pile. but jiung had run into an obstacle when he was almost done and it was someone else’s hand getting in his way and leaving him behind in a two second time difference.

“blitz! i have no cards left!” keeho announces, doing a victory dance where he sat as he leaves the rest of you in sour moods at losing the round.

”c’mon! who was blocking me?! seriously! i was so close to getting blitz!” jiung shouts, scanning his eyes over everyone with a fiery look in his eyes as he tries to fish out who it was. but then you shoot your hand up and bashfully smile.

“sorry, jiji, i didn’t mean to…” your voice is trailing off, sensing how angry he was and awkwardly trying to save face.

but the moment he saw how meek you had gotten, he took a couple seconds to just breathe and calm down. everyone was waiting for him to explode, which he usually does and then quickly gets over a couple seconds after, but to their surprise, he just waved his hand.

“it’s okay, it’s okay, let’s keep going,” he says, collecting his cards and already getting set up, “but if it happens again, i’ll seriously-”

“it won’t, it won’t,” sensing his teasing tone, you don’t take his threat that serious and only smile and laugh it off as you also get ready for the next round.

everyone else just watches with confused and semi-annoyed looks on their face as you prove immune to jiung’s competitive rage. what a lucky guy you were, they all thought, remembering their own individual instances of jiung’s anger. at least once, everyone has experienced it. and it really isn’t that terrifying, but it was always a hassle of defending ones self against jiung’s stubbornness and bitterness.

but as the two of you just casually talked and smiled about the game, they just sigh and move on, not wanting to complain and ruin the atmosphere.

— jiung, who smiles the widest when you’re nearby. seeing you is enough to get him grinning, but there are certain things you do that he absolutely loves. when you’re focused on dance practice and you just tunnel vision on the instructor and show pure determination, he’s smiling to himself and whispering something to another member or idle camera about your hard efforts and how amazing you were. when you guys are filming for variety content for p1ece, and you spend time talking to the camera — giving special attention to the viewers, he smiles at how mindful and thoughtful you are. at concerts, when you’re free to interact with the crowd as much as you want and not have to worry about choreo, he’ll sometimes catch you doing something slightly embarrassing just to entertain p1ece and that leaves him with the biggest grin known to man. fully “:D” with his eyes crinkling and turning into crescents. next thing you know, you have jiung running over to you with his loud laughter and slapping your back repeatedly. when you’re in the studio, recording, and he’s in charge of directing you, he’s always smiling each time you look at him for feedback while you’re in the booth. no matter what he says, whether it be constructive criticism or words of affirmation, he’s delivering them with a kind, patient smile and loving look in his eyes.

— jiung just naturally sees the best in you. he always thinks highly of you and wishes everyone to do the same, treasuring you so much. it’s a mix of him verbally telling you this and him conveying his thoughts through emotions. he’s not the most affectionate, but he still has his own special ways of making you understand right where his heart lies with you (cough completely enamored by you cough). he is a happy guy as long as you’re near and he hopes that you also see him the same way, eager to make you joyful as well as comfortable. sometimes he’s obnoxiously annoying in singing praises your way, but he can’t help it! he just wants everyone to see you the way he sees you! aka the best.

hwang intak — the first member that is younger than you!! you’re the defining member that is smack dab in the middle of p1harmony in terms of age. one year younger than jiung, theo, and keeho, and one year older than intak, and three years older than soul and jongseob. but a one year difference isn’t the biggest deal in the world, which intak agrees with on most days, but on others, he completely flips opinions and its obvious. what that means is that: some days, intak will be eager to have casual conversation with you, craving that relationship that’s foundation is based on seeing one another equally, instead of a strict, formal type of dynamic. while on some other days, intak succumbs to wanting to completely rely on you as his hyung and, not baby him, but pay special attention to him.

— intak likes to involve you in every aspect of his life. there isn’t a secret that he can keep from you, not that he would want to. but he just has a habit of letting you into every detail, routine, and habit of his. it’s basically the definition of sharing is caring — but with everything. he truly does think it’s only right for him to share everything with you :’( he’s so sweet ill cry.

“hyung, do you need a pair of underwear? these just came out of the wash, they’re still warm!”

“no, thank you, tak, i have enough…?”

he asked the question out of nowhere and was completely unprompted in asking if you wanted a pair of his underwear.

—

“wait, can you tell me what you think of this choreo? let’s go after lunch?”

“sure, make sure you eat well if you’re going to be dancing a lot later, too,”

“yes, hyung,” he says with the cutest smile on his face, taking a huge bite of his food.

—

the whole group was waiting backstage for directions on when to go up on stage with the staff all bustling around them. they were doing last minute checks on everything to make sure it was working well, while the members were all trying to calm down and not get too nervous.

intak’s form of doing this is scrolling on his phone, before a staff member has to take it away for when they go up on stage, and watching any funny video that pops up on his feed. when he finds a particularly funny one, the first person he thinks of showing is you. he walks over to where you were talking with one of the stage managers, waiting (im)patiently with a smile on his face.

“what’s up, tak?” you ask, smiling at him, knowing that he probably had something on his phone to show you.

“watch this, please,” he says, trying to hold in his laughter as he thinks of the video he was showing you. he shoves the phone screen closer to your face and in a couple of seconds, you both are breaking out in laughter at the video.

“[name]! intak! come on, we’re gonna huddle,” keeho calls out to you, an unimpressed look on his face as he sees you two semi-goofing off.

a staff comes by swiftly and takes intak’s phone, allowing you two to join the rest of the group in the circle.

— intak always!!! matching your energy. he’ll always always always be there to match you and whatever mood you’re in, especially if he notices that no one else is keeping up with you. he always loves to do this because it makes you end up laughing so hard and/or having the most fun. he likes having those special moments with you because they feel like it’s just the two of you in the room.

it was a gruelling day of practice. everyone was scattered around the room, whether it be on the floor sprawled out like a star or on the chairs lining the corner, slumped over trying to catch their breath. everyone was tired and it was even more tiresome knowing that there was still a couple more hours of practice you all needed to commit to before being allowed to go home.

you were taking in the sight of everyone’s exhaustion, breathing heavily as you tried to think of ideas on how to boost their energy. it was currently that ten minute period where everyone could rest and catch their breath before the choreographers would get back to strict practice. and knowing that the time was almost up, you connected your phone to the surround speakers and played an energetic song.

“c’mon guys! only a couple more hours of practice!” you cheered, trying to get them optimistic, but the “couple more hours” part easily killed any type of optimism that could be in the room. you jumped to the beat of the music, trying to infect them with the same feeling, but they were all just looking at you unimpressed.

“[name], don’t strain yourself too much, we still have to dance more!” jiung tiredly said, waving his hand as if to bring you towards him, to hopefully calm you down. but you just shook your head, belting out the song lyrics that were playing and continuing to jump around.

in a couple of seconds, intak was joining you, head banging to the music and running around the room with you. he appreciates you trying to uplift everyone and didn’t want your efforts to go completely ignored and to waste. he starts joining in on your singing, purposefully off key, and laughing as you do when you hear how awful he sounded.

“how do they have so much energy…” theo sighs, looking at the two of you and just feeling even more exhausted.

the members are all silent as they watch you two goof off for the next couple of minutes, wishing they could join in on your guys’ fun, but feeling way too tired physically.

meanwhile, you and intak are running around the room and laughing your hearts off as the song continues on blaring through the room. the only reason you guys stop is due to the instructor cutting off the music and calling for practice to resume.

you two are panting and you appreciatively pinch his cheeks with how he kept up with you and your antics.

— another funny, unique thing intak likes to do with you is always interacting with p1ece with you. whether it be through weverse lives, at fansigns where he milks fanservice with you for them, or in any other form, he just likes displaying the close relationship you guys have with each other to p1ece. it’s almost as if he’s flexing — how comfortable and in-sync the two of you are with each other, how easily he understands you without you even having to say anything. they love it, anyway, and he loves to do it, so it really doesn’t hurt anyone.

intak walks over to you as you try putting on a costume that someone had gifted you. it was a simple outfit that you think was supposed to mimic turtwig, which p1ece knew as your favorite pokemon. there was a headband with a sprout, which was your representative emoji, and cute cloth shell that mimicked the pokemon’s that was supposed to be worn around your shoulders.

“this is cute,” intak comments, smiling at the costume with a fond look in his eyes. then suddenly, his eyes lit up and he reached further into the box and brought out a pokeball with a proud smile on his face, “hurry up and put it on so i can catch you,”

you laugh at his childish demand, but obey to play along with him. p1ece were watching and aweing at the scene, finding it to be wholesome with how excited intak was to act as a pokemon trainer and you as a turtwig.

when you were just finished putting on the costume, intak suddenly threw the ball in your direction — nailing you right in the face, and causing you to stumble backwards at the sudden impact. p1ece all gasped in shock while the other members began laughing, jiung and theo falling to their knees as you rubbed your cheek.

“what pokemon is gonna let such a rough trainer catch them?!” you joke, smacking intak’s hand away as he tried helping you up — the man himself laughing at the way he had unintentionally injured you.

“i’m sorry, sorry,” he says, but with how hard he was laughing it didn’t seem as though he was that sorry, “please, hyung, it was an accident, it was supposed to hit your chest! i swear!”

“whatever, whatever,” you rub your cheek, that wasn’t even hurting honetly, and shoot him a joking glare.

then, once again — out of nowhere, he grabs the other side of your cheek and pulls you towards him, planting a wet and sloppy kiss on your cheek. instantly, the flashes of the cameras are going off to capture the impromptu moment. you recoil simply because of the wet sensation and rub your cheek, a grimace on your face.

the others break out into another fit of laughter while intak childishly pouts at you, using terrible aegyo to beg for forgiveness. it’s obviously all an act, as well as an excuse to make you laugh, and it works because you’re both forgiving him and laughing with him in the next couple seconds.

”you’re such a bad trainer,” you comment into the microphone, looking to p1ece with an incredulous look on your face, “he’s the only one that can pull something like that off, seriously. because i know intak just wanted to make everyone laugh, so i’ll let it slide. the others don’t have good intentions like that!”

“what?!” keeho exclaims, exaggerating his offense at your comment while everyone in the room breaks out in laughter.

“you’re saying we don’t have good intentions or something?!” theo joins in, crossing his arms over his chest, “c’mere, let me throw the pokeball at your face too, to prove my good intentions!”

“see! that’s what i’m talking about guys!” you shout, running around the small stage to dodge theo’s reeled back arm that was now holding the same pokeball that had hit you in the face earlier.

all the while, intak is grinning ear to ear so hard his cheeks almost hurt, watching you with an obvious content look on his face.

—

“it’s only…” intak checks his phone that was on the table, then looks back up at the camera, “10PM, not that late,”

he’s by himself in the dance practice room, stretching in front of the camera as he watches the comments all roll in.

“’intak, what’s your lockscreen?’ how did you guys even see my lockscreen?” he laughs at the random question, playing with his phone in his lap, “oh, you just want to know?” he looks at the screen, deciding that it wasn’t even that bad to show. and the photo itself made him smile anyway, so he wanted to share it with p1ece for that reason as well.

“it’s a photo of me and [name]-hyung,” he says, turning the phone around and showing it to the camera, “i change it a lot, though, but this was from when we went out recently, late at night. there was a cool mirror, so we took a photo. and i liked it, so i use it as my lockscreen and homescreen,”

it was the type of “fish-eye” mirrors that were in conveinces stores so that the owner can see the entire store. the photo was a simple mirror selfie with you squeezing intak’s cheeks together as he took the photo, a smile on each of your faces.

“’so cute’, yes, we are, hyung is,” he laughs, turning his phone off and setting it aside, “’what’s his lockscreen?’ i don’t know…i don’t really look at it, but i think it’s just a picture of all of us, i think of our hands? i’m not sure, i’ll ask him when i see him and then let you guys know,” he smiles as he sees the comments affectionately talking about you two, mainly about how cute the photo was.

“’what’s your contact name for [name]?’ ah, didn’t he make the tiktok about it recently? it’s still the same as it was then, just ‘best hyung.’…what? why? why’s everyone saying that i should change it? change it to what?” he opens his phone and opens the messager app, scrolling up and down your contact information, “i think it’s cute though? he likes it too,”

he waits to see what people suggest, making an ‘o’ with his mouth as he continued reading, “oh, make it cuter or add an emoji? that’s what you guys meant! that’s not that bad of an idea, but i don’t know what i’d put…not a sprout, jongseobie already has that for him. how about…”

intak spends the next couple minutes rambling about you as well as answering any questions p1ece had about you, such as your whereabouts and what you were up to nowadays. intak is definitely the guy that would air out all your business to everyone, but in a fond, respectable way. obviously, he doesn’t tell them overly personal information or things he knows you wouldn’t want anyone knowing, it’s more-so, just the silly little things that he tells them.

— quick to take your side if there is ever a disagreement or fight that breaks out in the group. fights are common, but for little trivial things (you guys are bound to squabble every now and then, it’s inevitable). and intak doesn’t really mean to take your side, to show bias and favoritism, it’s just he has a really strong sense of loyalty and he always feels that same feeling from you, so he just reciprocates it. that loyalty of his makes him one of your reliable support systems and a trustworthy person to have if time ever get rough.

it was a pretty small thing to fight about, but everyone’s emotions were amped up because of recently stressful times. nothing harmful was exchanged between you and keeho when you were fighting, but you two did need some space to recollect and approach the situation with clearer minds.

you stormed out of the dorm, keeho staying behind and locking himself in his room. the members watched with wide eyes, sighing as they left the matter alone to not get too involved. besides, you and keeho were grown men that could talk this out when you were ready to, you didn’t need to be forced to apologize to each other, like you were kids or something.

and intak agrees with that. but he is concerned on where you would storm off to so late at night. which is why he ran after you, grabbing yours and his coat on his way out. thankfully, you didn’t get too far before he caught up with you. the walk to an empty park nearby was silent, intak knowing that he shouldn’t pester you for small chat as you were definitely not in the mood for it right now.

instead, he took a silent stance next to you as you gently swung back and forth on the swing seat.

“it’s just!” you suddenly exclaim, “we are all high strung right now, we’re all tired! i wish i had more control of how i handled the situation, but i just can’t always be so hyper aware of everything going on around me.” you sighed, hanging your head low as intak lent you an ear to listen to all of your worries. “i should go back and apologize,”

“hold on, let’s just stay here a little while longer. the both of you might need some space, even if it’s just for a couple more minutes,” intak says, speaking softly and gently. you understand where he’s coming from and, thankfully, agree, settling back onto the swing set.

“thanks for coming after me intak, you didn’t have to, i would’ve been fine,” you say quietly, reaching out and squeezing his hand in yours.

“it’s alright, i was just worried something might have happened if you were alone,” he explains, crouching down to take a seat on the mulch beside you, “are you feeling better?”

“yeah, i think i feel even better knowing that you were here, though. seriously, you didn’t have to,”

”i wanted to, though,” he shrugs, not finding it a big deal and thinking about how he would 100% run after you again if a similar situation ever arises in the future, “i’ll always be here, okay? so will everyone else,”

that makes you fondly pet his hair down as a soft thank you escapes your lips, again. intak’s heart is the kindest and his approach of tending to you and the members makes that obvious.

— intak who is extremely sensitive to your mood and energy because he’s known you for so long, the shifts of mood don’t catch him off guard. he’s rather in tune with them, as if they’re his own. and he likes to brag about this special connection that you two have, calling it the utmost unique one in the entire group. he makes it obvious to p1ece that he feels this way too, not shy in staking “claim” of being the person who knows you the best in the group. intak who would easily follow you to the ends of the earth because he trusts you that much and knows that if you two are in it together, it won’t be that bad. he just needs you and some good energy and he’ll be content for the rest of his life.

haku shota — (okay prefacing i have an extremely soft spot for seobsoul as the youngests in piwon and it will most definitely show in these hcs so please beware!!!) now that’s out of the way, you’re someone that soul can trust completely. he has the most trust and faith and abundance of love for you, he will easily follow whatever you say because he believes that you’d never lead him “astray.” he trusts you that much. is always looking at you for some sort of approval or confirmation before doing anything, especially when you guys first debuted. you were like a guiding light to him, and continue to be, when he was literally dropped into a foreign country with no guardian type of figure.

“they’re free?” shota asks intak, who was standing beside him. they were waiting at the front desk of the restaurant, waiting for the other members to come back from the bathroom. and as they were waiting, they noticed that there was a small basket of what seemed to be mints, as well as a sign above them. but since it was written in english, shota couldn’t properly decipher what it said. “where’s hyung?”

“still in the bathroom,” intak pouts, looking at the mints longingly.

“is there anything i can help you with?” the hostess asks, noticing their gazes set on the basket, smiling softly at them.

to not embarrass themselves, intak and shota simply shake their heads and step away, offering her a weak smile.

“you guys look so awkward,” your voice calls out to them, offering the lady a smile as you pass by before joining intak and shota, “what’s up with those looks on your faces?”

you find it comical how they’re standing like lost school boys, but your laughter is cut off when shota suddenly grabs ahold of your hand and squeezes tight. “huh? what is it?”

“are those candies for us to take?” he asks quietly, and although he’s speaking korean, it’s as if he’s scared the hostess is secretly bilingual and can understand what he’s saying. you read the mini sign and nod you head in confirmation.

“it’s say, please take one — so yeah, they’re free and for the guests after eating. you want one?” you ask politely, smiling as he nods immediately, intak speaking up behind him and wanting one for himself too. you walk up to the woman, smile at her again and try to not make it a big deal that you’re taking a handful of mints.

the other members would probably want ones for themselves too, was your logic. when you walked back to intak and shota, their eyes were sparkling as they saw the many mints in your palm. intak took it immediately and popped one in his mouth while shota just hummed in delight and sucked on it.

“thank you, hyung,” soul says, smiling as he grabs your free hand and swings it back and forth.

“of course, shota,” you say, ruffling his hair and then stepping off to the side to not be in anyone’s way as you wait for the other members.

—

“is it okay?” is a line shota says often with his eyes marked on you, making it obvious he’s seeking your approval for something. it was something that started when he was first a trainee with you guys, when he needed someone to guide him through a lot of things, and it has become a harmless habit ever since.

you’d never scold him for relying on you, in fact shota thinks you welcomed that part of his behavior with open arms, which he appreciates. you’re a really big comfort to him, your mere presence next to him helps calm him down.

— he will be really affectionate with you, similiar to keeho. just think about this man’s relationship with keeho, too!! like they’re attached to the hip. he claims the affection he shows you has a different intention when compared to keeho, but you don’t notice because: to you, affection is affection and it’s always welcome !! shota sometimes can’t express in words how much love and appreciation he has for you, or he is too lazy to or it just isn’t appropriate, so instead he’ll show it through actions.

“so, today, i’m working in the studio — as you can obviously see!” you’re on weverse live and it just started a couple minutes ago, so you were giving p1ece the update on what you were doing, “i don’t know what the other members are doing, but i think—”

your cut off when the door behind you opens out of nowhere and it’s a shota staring at you. he’s grinning ear to ear, but you wouldn’t know since he’s wearing a mask on his face. he steps forward, not paying attention to the camera propped up on your desk and only focusing in on you.

“ah, shota, say hi to p1ece,” he hums in response, making a random grunting noise as he stops by your side, making you laugh at his odd behavior. he grabs your cheeks with both his hands, smooshing your face together which only prompted more laughter from you. then he’s leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead, the sensation odd due to the mask in between you two.

but you receive it nonetheless, thanking him loudly with laughter as he pulls away. he smiles, moving close once more to kiss scarily close to your mouth, right on the corner of your lips, but once again the barrier of the mask acts as the last resort safe guard.

”wow, that was close, shota,” you say, surprised at his bold behavior, “shota is extra confident today,” you say to the camera this time, laughing as you read the comments that were freaking out about the surprise kiss, “’did he kiss me?’ yeah, riiight here,” you point to the corner of your mouth, which is now stretched into a smile, “plus, he was wearing a mask,”

shota stands behind you, now playing with the ends of your hair and listening to what you were saying every now and then.

“’[name] wasn’t even surprised lollol’ no, because he does this all the time. sho is very affectionate, guys, really touchy,” he smiles under his mask and decide that he’s going to leave, to not intrude too much on your own live.

you look behind and see him pointing to the door, nodding in understanding, “you’re going straight to the dorm or to practice?” he grunts, making hand gestures which you interpret as him saying he was going to practice.

“okay, don’t stay out for too long, it’s already late, too,” you advise, shooting him a pointed look.

he nods vigorously, saluting to you as well. you laugh and mimic him, but in a less enthusiastic way.

before he leaves, he throws a peace sign to the camera and plants one more kiss onto your cheek, then forcing your hood on top of your head and slamming the door behind him. the live chat is saying how hectic those past three seconds were, but you just fondly smile and agree.

“but he’s always like that, so it’s not that surprising, everyone. that’s just regular soul,” you say, a genuine smile on your face as you pay attention to each comment.

— silently shares a lot of his interests with you. you already have a huge common one: pokemon, but other things that interest him are also made aware to you through gift giving. for some reason, shota loves buying you gifts of things that you don’t even know the reference to?? well, most of them are popular, so you know at least something about them, but other times, it’s just random figurines of characters you don’t recognize littered around your dorm. he makes them blend in with the already existing decor on purpose, smiling as he sets them up as he thinks of the expression you make each time you discover one. it’s like a fun game; what will soul leave behind each time he visits your room? each time, he’s guaranteed to leave something, it’s just a matter of if you find it or not.

— he does not like sharing his clothes with anyone!! it’s just not his style, he doesn’t like sharing with others and he doesn’t want people sharing their clothe with him. what’s his is his and what’s yours is yours, respectfully. one thing that soul doesn’t mind sharing with you, and only you, though, is some of his rings…not all of them!! just select ones! he’s very protective of his belongings, especially his rings, so it was a genuine surprise the first day he put it on your finger, but you came to realize it was only a select few he was comfortable sharing. but the fact he was sharing them with you in the first place was already fascinating and left you with a warm feeling in your chest because you knew how special they were to him.

“this one,” soul gently whispers as you two stand in his room. you’re crowding his desk, where he’s sitting and you’re standing. you watch him go through his jewelry boxes before your outing together. he made a comment on how you were missing essential accessories and then before you knew it, he was dragging you to his room to showcase all the jewelry he had for you to wear for the day.

the one he was holding now was a simple thick, silver band, and he tried it on each of your fingers, gently sliding it on and off to see where it fit best. when he finally saw that it was a perfect fit for your ring finger, he smiled up at you in pride. just when you thought that was enough, he turned back to his collection and began choosing another one.

“one more, it looks silly if you’re only wearing one,” he says in a matter fact tone, and since he was definitely more experienced with accessorizing, you just trusted him. even if it was a matter of opinion, you didn’t need to know that…

he pulls out a more special looking one, a dragon themed ring that has an edgy feel to it. this one goes on your middle finger pretty snug and he smiles wide, happy to see you wearing his jewelry.

“we’re matching,” he says, showing his heavily adorned fingers. the rings themselves weren’t matching, but you suppose he meant in general.

“we are, you have the coolest things, sho,” you say, looking at your fingers with a grin on your face. your hand goes up to ruffle his hair, then resting on the base of his neck as you guide him out of his room, “now, what should our first stop be?”

“food,” he says, happily walking beside you as you go out for your “date.”

— the other member often complain about how you give jongseob and soul the easiest time when it comes to the rigorous training, but they eventually stop bringing it up when one time you went particularly hard on them for their criticism. since that day, they’ve stopped talking about it and just silently wallow in their discovery as they watch you tend to jongseob and soul more than the rest. sometimes, though, their frustration about your difference in behavior does slip out — but no one actually walks away from it with their feelings hurt, so shota will silently continue to take advantage of it…

“i’m tired,” soul huffs, hands on his knees as he watches the reflection of the group in the mirror. he looks to you, pouting as he asks in a light tone, “can we take a quick break?”

“no, we already took one earlier, we have to practice for longer before taking a break,” jiung denies, shaking his head excessively to show that the idea wasn’t going to slide.

“but-”

“we can take a five minute break, or you can shota, it’s alright,” you defend immediately, waving your hand for him to take that as his signal to rest for a little bit.

”c’mon, [name], don’t go so easy on him,”

“yah, he’s the one that’s working the hardest, he has the dance break in the middle of the already hard choreo! don’t you feel some sypathy?”

“we all are working hard, thou-”

“i know, and i’m tired too, but imagine how shota feels, he’s the one that has to use the most energy out of all of us!”

“…i guess you’re right,”

there’s a heavy sigh as they realize you won’t back down, standing firm as shota’s defender. he’s grateful because he really was almost completely worn out at this point and it was seriously getting to him.

“only a couple minutes, okay?” you gently, but sternly check with him to which he nods in understanding. he smiles at your way of caring for him, holding your hand and planting a kiss on the back before releasing it and flopping to the wood floor of the practice room.

— always wants to be in contact with you. kind of going hand in hand with that other point i made, but to really drive it home, he always wants to be in arms reach of you. he’s holding your hand whenever he has the chance, if you guys are sitting, he’s practically resting in your lap and shamelessly hugging you close. he likes to monopolize on affection because he knows you’re also comfortable giving it. he’s selfish in this sense, not really wanting to share you with others when he’s feeling particularly needy. he’ll slot himself into your arms and stay there for as long as possible, no matter the setting.

you guys were all watching the scenes that you had just filmed back, intent on catching if something was wrong. you were on set to film a music video and it was nearing the end of the day, so everyone was rather mellowed out and tired.

shota took his place standing beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watched the clip back. you gently run your hand up and down his back to comfort him of his tiredness, but it only makes him wish to slip into sleep.

“okay, soul, jongseob, theo, and [name], you’re done filming for the day, keeho, jiung, and intak, there is just one more scene we need to run through with you guys,” the three respond with as much enthusiasm as possible, stepping forward to follow the director’s instructions.

one of your managers comes forward and guides the rest of you to get unready in the dressing rooms, commenting on how after the three were done filming and getitng unready as well, they were going to be sending everyone home. that made the rest of you cheer in relief, taking a seat into the chair to let the makeup staff do their work.

soul had to fight the urge to fall asleep in his seat, watching his reflection and yours in the mirror to try and keep his eyes open. you were out of the makeup chair faster than the others, changing back into your regular clothes, and then collapsing onto the couch and sighing in relief to finally lay down. soul was next to be free, changing as fast as possible, and then falling right on top of you on the couch.

“sho, there’s so many other open spots,” you groan, turning over so that you were now laying on your back and holding soul directly to your person.

”you’re more comfortable,” he explains easily, placing a peck on your cheek and then resting his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.

you try ignoring the staff that was filming you with their camera, getting content for who knows what, and follow suit to shota closing his eyes. it seemed the two of you were the only ones that knocked out for a quick nap because when you were woken up by keeho, everyone else was already ready to go.

on the ride back to the dorms, shota was still clinging to your side and resting his head on your shoulder the entire car ride back. he rested your intertwined hands in his lap, too, playing with them until he fell back asleep.

— relying on you if he has trouble communicating something. ever since you were trainees, you made it clear that you were there to support him if he ever had trouble vocalizing something due to the language barrier. frustratingly, he had trouble with that a lot — especially early on when he was training with everyone. but you proved to be a reliable pillar for him to lean on when he had hit a roadblock in terms of what to say in korean. you try your best and even attempting to learn some japanese for him. nowadays, it isn’t nearly as often as it was before, but he still looks to you first for some assistance if he ever needs it. he realizes how he’s in an incredibly vulnerable position, to be asking you for help on something as important as clarifying or completely translating something to him, but he trusts you completely and knows there’s no malicious intent that you could have towards him (you’ve proven that to him many times).

— shota who feels the most comfortable with you, in all aspects. in showing affection, in sharing his opinion, in being himself, he can do it all if you’re right there by his side. this trust and faith definitely stems from how your relationship was formed in your trainee days, but shota doesn’t mind and instead takes advantage of your deep bond with one another. he often talks about taking you back to japan with him for a return visit (you had already went with him a couple other times, he just wants to bring you back so you can spend more time with him in his home country), speaking of how you need to spend more time with his dogs, too. he wants to keep you as close as possible, both physically and figuratively — in terms of your emotional connection and he will do anything to ensure that.

kim jongseob — maknae timeeee!!!!! despite being the youngest, jongsoeb by far has the most experience on the process of becoming and being a kpop idol. he was a trainee since he was practically 11 years old, so he was more versed in the industry than anyone else. unfortunately, due to his young age, people often don’t take him seriously. well, the members definitely do because they were pretty intimidated by him the first time they all met, but other people that work with don’t often show him the respect he deserves. but since your guys’ first meeting, you were always courteous and respectful to him, showing through your actions and words that you took him seriously and genuinely saw him to be the artist he worked so hard in becoming. because of this, he holds a special place for you in his heart — incredibly special. to be respected so quickly by someone older, even though you yourself were talented, was a huge honor and pleasant surprise to him.

“[name]! jongseobie is looking for you!” keeho announces, walking into one of the public spaces of the building and tapping your shoulder, “he’s in his studio, so i think it has to do with whatever he’s making,”

you tap intak off of your shoulder, standing up and grabbing your phone from your table. you frown slightly seeing several missed calls and texts from the man himself, pocketing the device and thanking keeho for telling you. the walk is short, going up to the designated floor where the private studios were and making a beeline for jongseob’s.

you knocked a couple times before he opened the door for you, smiling softly when he saw that it was you.

“why weren’t you answering my texts?” he asks with a drawl in his voice, an in between of teasing and whining. you chuckle softly at it, taking your seat next to him and explaining that your phone was just in do not disturb mode for the evening. “do not disturb? can’t you make it where there are exceptions? i should be on that list,”

“i didn’t even know that was a thing,” you defend yourself, but he just clicks his tongue and types away at his keyboard. then, he hands you the mic stand. “huh?”

“just do runs over the melody,” he says quickly, hitting his space bar and pushing his chair back so that he could carefully watch you, “i think it would sound like this,” he then weakly vocalizes a unique melody you’d never heard before, “but i wanted to hear you do it, it’d sound better and help me more than if i did it myself,”

“okayy,” you mimic the sound he made, earning a smile from him as he nods along, egging you on in continuing and letting you choose how the rest of it would sound.

jongseob likes involving you in a lot of his creative processes, similar to jiung. but you’re definitely invited to the studio more with jongseob than you are jiung. this is partly due to the fact that jongseob finds a lot of inspiration in you, as well you naturally helping in unblocking whatever creative dilemma he’s in.

he just always remembers when you two were still trainees and how much respect you had given him. it’s a thought that crosses his mind at least once a day, feeling grateful to have had you there to believe in him wholeheartedly since the beginning.

— briefly mentioned in jiung’s section, but whenever you guys go overseas, who you spend the most of your time with outside of the hotel room is supposed to be evenly split…supposed to. but the reality is that jongseob is the first to invite you out and — first come, first serve, right? he’s always eager to see the sights with you because he claims you make the perfect center piece for his photography and he likes how you two often share similar interests. when you two go out, his camera is strapped to his torso and you’re both eagerly taking in the foreign sights.

“wait, where did [name] go?” intak asks, coming out of the shower with his hair still damp and towel hanging off of his shoulders, “we were gonna go to the dining hall for lunch,”

“i think jongseob and him went out,” soul mindlessly answers, scrolling on his phone as he lounges on the couch, “me and [name] hyung are going out for dinner, though, so…”

“what?!”

meanwhile, you and jongseob were already a couple of blocks away from the hotel and popping in and out of stores that had caught your eye. occasionally, you’d hear the click of his film camera, but by the time you turn around to look at him with a playful glare, he’s already setting it back onto his hip with an innocent smile on his face.

— jongseob is probably the most vocal in talking about how much admiration and love he has for you. but it’s subtle slips into a conversation vocal, not the kind that is just “screamed” at the top of his lungs. there’s two different ways of speaking about someone, ykwim? there’s explicitly saying how you feel about them and then there’s talking fondly of them softly, but in every passing sentence. jongseob is definitely the latter. he isn’t the type to lay out all his emotions for others to perceive, instead he’ll calmly, but lovingly compliment you and your personality (constantly, at that). he makes it obvious how much he appreciates you, just not super “loudly” if that makes sense.

the group was getting interviewed individually for a behind the scenes video for the killin it album. jongseob sat in front of the cameras with a confident smile on his lips, waiting for the next comment the directors had to make.

“when you’re writing lyrics, is there anything else that you keep in mind besides the obvious meaning behind the words?”

he hummed, thinking about his answer for a couple of seconds before coming to a concrete answer, “i think about a couple of things, but at the forefront of my mind is how it will sound and how well each member can execute it. for example, for soul, i purposely choose easier to pronounce words to not make it incredibly difficult. and when i am making the general beat or melody, i tend to think about how [name] hyung would execute it. to me, he has the most raw voice that i really love working with and he is also enthusiastic about helping me create the vision before sending the draft to whoever needs to hear it next. his voice alone can inspire a lot of things from me, too, so i tend to just think about him when i compose things or come up with lyrics.”

there isn’t an ounce of embarrassment evident on his face as he speaks so truthfully and passionately about you.

the next question the director asked was, “do the members have a strong say in who gets which line?”

“well, me and intak just write our own raps, and come together occasionally if we get stuck — but dividing our parts up is easy, it’s just a matter of where in the song the verses are going to be. as for the vocals, i have a strong preference to [name] hyung’s voice, so the others have learned to tune me out of the discussion when it comes to the vocal department. i just end up saying he should get all the parts. but as far as i know, it’s mainly through civil discussion on how they divide the lines,” he laughs after confessing that, making viewers wonder how serious he was about what he just said. but he really drives it home, saying, “everyone in p1harmony has a unique voice, but i just really gravitate towards [name] hyung’s, i don’t know why because it’s been like this since we were trainees.”

“do you often get writing slumps or are unable to create something that suits your taste? was it especially challenging this time because you knew you were preparing for a full length album?”

jongseob hummed again, finding these questions fun to answer, “i mean, of course, everyone gets writer’s block. i just try getting over it as soon as possible by listening to music that i like and thinking of that as inspiration. but if it gets really bad, i just distance myself and try relaxing,”

“how do you relax then?”

“just sleeping, or spending time with the members, but mainly sleeping. i don’t like to over exert myself with dancing or vocal exercise too much, so i rely on sleep and [name] hyung to recharge my personal battery,” he laughs at how silly it sounds, but nods to himself knowing that he told the truth.

after the behind the scenes video dropped, p1ece were quick to point out how often jongseob had mentioned you in any question regarding his creative process. and it was heartwarming to see that every mention of you was done with a smile and positive feeling.

“that’s how you know he really loves [name], he basically called him his muse”

“[name] has been supporting him since they debut so its no surprise jongseob is so open in involving in his song writing and stuff, it’s really nice to see that nothing has changed between these two <333”

→ “i hope they can be together for the longest time, they really compliment each other so well”

“when i’m in an appreciating [name] contest and my opponent is kim jongseob.”

“the fact that he thinks about how to the song will sound with [name]’s voice in mind, this lil boy from p1harmony really does love [name]”

“the vitamin’s vitamin is [name] lollol”

— opposite to shota, doesn’t mind sharing his clothes with you. he finds it cute that sometimes he randomly picks a shirt from his dresser and it’s one of yours. and he loves when you two are seeing each other for the first time in the morning and he instantly recognizes the shirt that you’re wearing as his. jongseob’s style is very comfortable, baggy clothes, so it’s mainly sweatpants, hoodies, and oversized t-shirts that end up being co-owned by you. he genuinely doesn’t mind. in exchange, he takes some of your clothes too! so it’s basically a fair trade off (not underwear though, he’s no a #nasty gal like intak — who definitely doesn’t mind sharing underwear with you lmao). loves when they’re on the more oversized end because that’s just his style. loves absolutely drowning in whatever garment he’s wearing that is actually yours. playing with the strings of the sweatpants or snapping the waist band against his skin several times, making his hands drown in the hoodie sleeves, he just finds it so fun to play with clothes if they’re yours. welcomes you to do the same with his too.

— has a really sentimental photo of the two of you at his work desk. it’s in a simple, but nice, frame and was from your trainee days together. you’re both so much younger, obviously too, but you’re both smiling so wide it’s infectious to him each time he sees it and he smiles too. he thinks it was intak or keeho that took the photo, he can’t remember anymore.

it was when everyone was in the practice room for much later than they should’ve been. he remembers being exhausted and just wanting to go home, but with some encouragement and energy from you, he was determined to get through the entire practice. and when it was announced they were finally done, the two of you collapsed onto the hardwood floor and were just panting in fatigue. the reason you were laughing was just the synchronicity of the action, making you turn to face each other and burst out into a fit of laughs.

whoever had snapped the photo took it in a the fraction of a second, showing it to you two with a proud look on his face. you requested for it to be printed out while jongseob only felt as though it was just a silly photo. when he saw it printed out, though, he suddenly felt sentimental about the memory and wanted his own copy.

he’s recently taken up photography nowadays and it’s usually film, sometimes digital. but with each picture he takes of you, he always tells himself that he’ll end up adding that photo to the one existing on his desk. but he can’t bring himself to choose one out of the stack of printed photos he has of you, so he usually just keeps them safe in his dorm room, occasionally hanging one up there. but never in his studio. he finds that the singular one there is a strong enough memory for him to use as inspiration to keep trying harder and harder each time he works. he doesn’t want to disappoint the you and him of the past, the ones that worked so hard to get to where you were now.

— jongseob being an extremely sentimental guy, but in private. and if not in private, quietly in public. no one really notices this about him, but it’s especially obvious whenever the conversation regards you. he knows he owes so much to you, for what you provided for him during their pre-debut days, and he doesn’t want to let you down now. he continues to push himself in excelling for that reason, as well as a multitude of others (such as, wanting to see the group truly succeed and get what they deserve). an incredibly emotional mature person for his age and it’s made obvious to others with how he carries himself and articulates his feelings. that’s another thing he accredits to you, for properly guiding him. another reason he can’t let you down.

┆ if u made it this far omg i applaud u...this shit is so long, i hope u enjoyed reading about seventh member piwon endeavors!!! i had fun writing them and imagining them. i tried to make it non-repetitive as possible too, and i think (?) i did a relatively good job with that because each members felt unique in some way :3 okay bye thank u sm for reading - if u got this far !!

[moutheyes]

[translation] Nam Yoon-su interview with Vogue Korea

Original article link

(T/N: did this a bit quickly as it's been a busy week for me, apologies for any errors. once again i am but a longtime student doing this for practice and fun. there were some interesting bits in here about nam yoon-su's connection to go young and his experiences on set. i find his personality quite refreshing lol. also the pictures are gorgeous.)

No Pretense, Just the Truth: Nam Yoon-Su’s “Love in the Big City”

Oct. 20, 2024 | Son Gi-ho and Kim Na-rang

Today is Sunday, but weekends probably aren’t that special for actors, right?

If you start a job, you just keep going. That's when days start to lose significance.

You filmed Love in the Big City last winter and spring, are you working on something right now?

I rested for a bit after the surgery with my dad, and I’m preparing for a movie now.

You donated a kidney to your father this past June, have you recovered? Can you drink that coffee?

It’s okay as long as I don’t drink four cups a day. Smoking is the worst so I quit. 

You were appointed as the ambassador for the Life-Sharing Campaign. It seems like you experienced firsthand the value of organs and tissue.

I was interested in it before, so I searched up videos on YouTube. Obviously I didn’t know that I would end up donating my kidney. I could actually feel my body changing during the process. My skin became dull because the kidney couldn’t detoxify properly, and seeing people have trouble going to the bathroom gave me a lot to think about.

This will make a big difference in your life.

More than anything, it improved my relationship with my father. (laughs) There are three of us, all boys, and we didn’t get along well with him. But now we talk a lot.

Love in the Big City is based on the novel by Park Sang-young, and it’s widely recognized as a Booker Prize-nominated queer romance novel. Did you feel pressured by the genre?

I started modeling in my second year of high school (T/N: equivalent of junior year in NA), and there were a lot of queer staff members around, so I never felt that sense of difference. Everyone has their own world, right? I also had a childhood friend come out to me when they turned 20. We actually became closer after that.

How did you get the role?

I was contacted by the production company and met with the directors. There are four of them—Hur Jin-ho, Hong Ji-young, Son Tae-gyeom, and Kim Se-in—and I hadn’t met anyone before, so we needed time to get to know each other. Their directing styles are all different, but thankfully they all gave me the okay.

During the meeting, did they ask if you were okay with doing a queer romance?

Not at all. If I thought that way at all, even a little bit, the meeting wouldn’t have happened.

What kind of conversation did you have then?

They were unexpectedly curious about my hardships. Looking back on why we talked about that, though, I think it’s because I had to play Go Young from age 20 into his 30s. I had to show various emotions and character growth at all those different ages.

It seems like you’re right in the middle of that ten-plus year range for Go Young.

I’ll be 30 in three years. Episodes 1 and 2 tell the story of 20-year-old Go Young, but we shot episodes 3 and 4 first. It was better to film him in his mid-20s first. Director Hur Jin-ho made it comfortable for me while filming. It seemed like he placed a lot of importance on sound. Even after giving the okay, he would sit there with his eyes closed and just listen.

I’m interested to see how four different directors, working independently, will capture your image.

I haven’t seen the final edit yet, so I’m also curious and looking forward to it. I was only able to see the parts I later had to add narration for. Like the novel, there were a lot of parts I had to describe or explain.

Was there anything you had to keep in mind while doing the narration?

I couldn’t get caught up in the emotions and had to read everything in a similar manner, using a normal tone. That way it would be easier for the viewers. The emotions are already shown on screen, so if the narration was too forceful it would be hard to handle.

In an eight-episode show, you had different acting partners every two episodes (Lee Su-kyung, Kwon Hyuk, Na Hyun-woo, Jin Ho-eun, and Kim Won-joong). It must have felt like you were filming fragments of four separate works.

It was interesting because not only the directors, but the actors, staff, assistant directors, and producers all changed as well. It was a little difficult at first. On top of that, all the directors had different styles and wanted different things from me. I think that produced a more interesting result.

It must have been a big challenge for the actors.

Yes, it was a challenge. (laughs) One week it was one director, the next week it was another director, so I had to change my own approach every time. I learned a lot through that process.

Was there a wrap party for the entire production? (laughs)

Each team had their own gathering, but unfortunately we couldn’t do a big one.

While filming Today’s Webtoon, you said you were extremely sensitive because you wanted to do a good job. And because of that, you lost a lot of weight. How did you feel while filming this drama?

I’m fundamentally a sensitive person. Of course, I can handle it so I don't affect others. This time, my main focus was on showing the changes in Go Young’s expressions and speech as he got older. For example, he was more active in his relationships when he was younger, but as time passes you can see him slowing down. Also, he changes his hairstyle and fashion. But that’s also due to the directors having different preferences.

You started out as a model, so do you have any personal views about fashion?

Nope. (laughs) I go around wearing comfortable tracksuits.

Which of Go Young’s eras are you most drawn to?

While shooting episodes 3 and 4 with director Hur Jin-ho, there’s a scene where he goes running to the hospital after finding out his mother is sick. It was around the time when my father was ill, so I definitely felt a lot of empathy.

You were also having a hard time then.

Physically I was fine, but I couldn’t say the same about my heart. I became one with Go Young when he was in front of his sick mother. I was able to grasp the emotions, so we filmed those scenes without needing to rehearse. The emotions were captured really well, so we didn’t need any other scenes to explain the situation.

It must have been a strange feeling, having real-life sadness help with your acting.

To be honest, I just concentrated on filming the scene at the time and didn’t think about my father. Thinking about it later, I realized it was easy to express those feelings because of my connection with him.

How did you feel after filming that scene?

I don’t look back once it’s over. I just come right back to reality.

In a way, that’s a blessing. Some actors have to receive counseling to separate acting from real life.

You have to keep filming, right? You can’t keep clinging to just that one scene. Of course, the on-site staff takes care of you and asks when you want to film a scene where you need to immerse yourself in your feelings. That’s the degree of difficulty. But even if it’s an emotional scene, I brush it off when it’s over and go home.

Go Young is a lively and carefree character. What about you?

Even though Go Young is straightforward, there are still times when his heart aches. Although he expresses himself in his 20s to the point where it feels aggressive, he hides his feelings more as he gets older. I’m the kind of person who doesn’t talk a lot and hides my feelings, so I can be misunderstood. When I was a model, I was shy and cautious of my surroundings, and couldn’t even greet people properly. That changed when I started acting.

Now you seem very warm and comfortable with other people.

That’s only been true for a few years. The production company head even said I seemed awkward when we met, so they thought I wasn’t interested in the work. I’m more comfortable talking to others now, but of course, I don’t like forced situations.

Like what?

It’s often described as being “fox-like.” It’s better to be honest rather than pretend to like someone in order to look good.

The longer you see them, the better they will be.

That’s right. Most of the people I see on a personal basis are childhood friends from my neighborhood, but we can’t meet that often because they’re all busy with their social lives.

It seems like you got close to all of the actors in Love in the Big City since you’re all around the same age.

It was really fun on set. But I’m not the type to contact people that often; I don’t want to meet them unless it’s from the bottom of my heart.

Kim Won-joong, who also started as a model, said in an interview with Vogue Korea that you were really reliable and helped him out a lot.

He's a top model, but since this was his first time acting, he obviously wasn’t familiar with the process. Normally no one on set tells you anything in detail. I tried to make things comfortable by telling him about that kind of stuff. Not just comfortable for him, but also for me. I wanted both of us to do well.

There are a ton of skinship scenes. How did you want those to be seen?

First I got my teeth deep-cleaned and then I passed out mouthwash. (laughs) Male actors, rather than female actors, are recommended to gargle. I’d go, “Hyung, do you want to gargle?” and then we’d laugh at each other. Man or woman, I just want it to be seen as two people who love each other.

What was the hardest part for you?

Go Young has a bit of a daredevil streak, so he usually starts the skinship. There was a scene with eight actors that required over 300 takes. Each time I tried my best to make them comfortable, and it wasn’t as hard as I thought.

You seem pretty calm when you come across some kind of difficulty.

If I don’t deal with it today, I’ll have to do it tomorrow, so my belief is that I should just get it done. Other people tell me I don’t seem to get stressed out, but I think it just piles up silently. There are times when I’m fine and it’s a normal day, and then suddenly I feel it one night.

Even if you don’t realize it, your body will show symptoms of stress.

Sometimes I suffer from gastroesophageal reflux (GERD), but that’s my problem. I want to show everyone else a smiling image. 

I guess that’s why you smile all the time. Is it hard to keep smiling?

If I frown because I’m having a hard time, it’ll affect other people. Do no harm, right? It’s a kind of principle. A while back, I received a thank you text from one of the staff. It was long and said something like, “I’ve never contacted an actor before, but I was surprised because you finished everything with a smile even when things were difficult on set.”

Is that a recent moment where you were proud of yourself?

It’s more so the DMs I received from abroad thanking me for doing the show. There was one from a Brazilian person saying, “This drama is even more meaningful because gay marriage is illegal in our country, and I’ll be sure to watch it.” Of course, there are a lot of detractors. Go Young’s mom is a Christian, and I actually received a DM from a woman who is of a similar age that said, “Youngsu-ssi, I thought you were a good person but I’m disappointed in you.” But there has been a shift in the perception of queer people in Korea over the last 10-20 years, and it’ll continue changing in the future.

How did you feel after filming?

I felt strongly that we had made something together. We finished it while discussing how we could complement each other and making revisions. Also, there were fewer characters than in other productions, so the individual actors and staff could communicate more deeply. Although I was the one acting, I feel that the end result is something we achieved together.

Is there something you want to achieve before the end of the year?

I’m not good at setting goals. I used to make resolutions about how I should go about acting, but now I just work hard on every drama that comes to me. Rather than making plans for the future, the present is more important. This morning, I grated vegetables and then did some cleaning, and right now I’m focused on finishing up well with this photoshoot and interview.

[vminizzle]

Sex shop

pairing : bestfriend!jungkook x f.reader

genre : SMUT, fluff

warnings :masturbation, really bad description of sex shop & stuff (sorry), mention of sex toys (not used, maybe in part 2 who knows ;) hehe ), teasing, use of pet names, praising, marking, first time, love making, penetrative sex, unprotected sex ( wrap It up guys! ), creampie, slight cockwarming, THEY ARE CUTE UGH

best friends ͜͡➸ to lovers ♡

words count : 4.2k

A/N : pls I’m insane (the way I had to clean my search history) ,, sorry this is a whole mess. I don’t know what I had in mind when I started writing this. I spent ages on this fic and ngl it didn’t turn out how I wanted but I tried my best :). I wrote this there is a long time ago but I decided to edit it 💀 & sorry for my english.

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED

M RATED

“see you on monday!” you waved at Jungkook as he waved back driving away.

You sighed as you walk to your friend.

“so, today your boyfriend doesn’t walk you home?” she teased. 

“Jungkook is not my boyfriend“ you blushed slapping her arm playfully.

"please you guys are always together. like always! Studying, hanging out together, shopping, lunch.. Except when he’s working on the weekends. He even sleep at your house.. I’m asking myself what you guys do-”

You gasped slapping her arm lightly.

“what? Chaeyoung stop! don’t say non-sense, we’re just..best friends.” you retorted looking down.

“yea yea whatever.”

Chaeyoung and you walked to your house, eating ice creams on your way.

“so what you wanna do?” you asked unlocking the front door.

“let’s just do nothing.” you laughed nodding.

You were laying on your couch scrolling though your social networks lazily when Chaeyoung suddenly jumped on you.

“Yo look at this!” she shoved her phone to your face.

“what is it?”

“it talks about masturbation.” she explained.

“and what about it?” you asked confused.

“I read that some women masturbate with water pression.” your cheeks heated up at her sudden burst.

“w-why are you even reading this?” you handed her the phone back.

“ just saw a girl from our promo repost this article.” she shrugged.

“that’s really suprising. I mean I’ve never thought about masturbation with water pression. Like I mean, using toys are easier no?” you looked at her eyes wide open.

“oh my god stop!” you threw a pillow at her face as she caught it midway laughing.

“wait! Don’t tell me you don’t masturbate, do you?” you hesitated before answering.

“i-it’s kind of personal.” you muttered.

“ugh stooooop we’re friends.. except you rather talk about it with your "best friend.” she wiggled her eyebrows teasingly.

“Can you just stop with him?“ you groaned.

“so tell me.” she whined shaking your arm repeatedly.

“well, yea.. like every other teenagers.” you cleared your voice making her grin.

“how many toys do you have?” she asked curiously.

“ok enough! this is so embarrassing.” you whined.

“not at all.” finally letting go of your arm as she grab her soda can on the glass table in front of you both.

“i don’t own any...” you muttered.

Chaeyoung chocked in her soft drink “you don’t?!” you shook your head.

“I don’t need it so.. yea.”

She stared at you silently for awhile.

“you should buy one.”

“why?“ you laughed awkwardly.

“it’ll be a new experience, another level of pleasure. And maybe it’ll please you more than your fingers or whatever."

How can she talks so openly? you thought.

“i know a great little sex shop not so far from here!” she exclaimed.

“you should check it out!”

“I’ll think about it.” you said, wanting this conversation to end.

❁ — •*:｡✩

You furrowed your eyebrows, bottom lip caught between your teeth, the pressure on your clit making you feel frustrated.

Your legs spread wide open, fingers going in and out of you slowly to tease you a bit.

Rubbing little circles with your thumb on the throbbing nerve trying to stimulate you a bit more.

10 minutes. 10 fucking minutes that you were trying to make yourself cum.

You didn’t know if you were too tense, stressed or exhausted but these days you couldn’t make yourself reach your highs. You groaned and gave up as you sigh annoyed getting up to wash your hand.

—

Later, you smiled as you sat on the edge of your bed, noticing a message from your best friend on your phone.

[20:42] kook : just arrived home, I hope you spent a nice afternoon. You’re probably sleeping or watching something on Netflix without me :( 

[20:44] y/n : hey yes i did. How was work? nahh I’m gonna sleep. wanna wait for you next week to watch our serie :)

[20:45] kook : work was alright. ohhh that’s my girl hehe can’t wait for next week then!

[20:47] y/n : nice then. You’re working all day tomorrow ?

[20:48] kook : yea unfortunately I’m working all day :(

[20:49] y/n : ughh!! good luck for tomorrow. Go take a bath and rest idiot. 

[20:51] kook: thanks princess! Sleep well too love ya ♡ 

[20:53] y/n : hehe love you too ♡

You let your body fell back on the mattress, smiling like an idiot at the small conversation.

Jungkook could always make you smile without even trying.

Noticing a early message from Chaeyoung, you opened it.

[18:57] Chae : here the address of the sex shop I talked about earlier : <address>. I know how curious you are sometimes 👀 hehe you’ll tell me. xoxo

Your smile vanished when you thought about your little talk with Chaeyoung.

“ok” you sighed deeply.

“I’ll go to this shop tomorrow.”

❁ — •*:｡✩

Waking up with the warm sunlights caressing your body gently. You stretched out groaning at the sore muscles.

You checked your phone. 1pm.

Well damn, that was a long sleep.

You decided to take a shower, eat lunch and get ready to “visit” this little shop.

—

Not wanting to be seen at such a place, you put a cap enough to hide your face a bit. You went for a oversized hoodie, a jean and a pair of vans.

Comfy.

You didn’t know why you were so nervous to go there. Is it because you’re scared to meet someone you know there? Is it because you’re embarrassed to see all the stuffs you’ll probably discover there? What type of things you’ll find?

“C’mon that’s just a shop y/n the fuck is wrong with you." you whisper-yelled to yourself before pulling your cap lower.

You took a deep breath as you put your hand on the knob of the door.

“Let’s go.”

Entering the place hesitantly, you looked at your surroundings. Deep red velvety walls, lights keeping the shop bright enough to make it less dark, shelves full of stuff you never knew the existence of.

The cashier welcomed you and you smiled at him politely.

Walking further through the shop, you noticed shelves filled with magazines, covers of obscene pictures of naked women and men making you cover your eyes feeling like a shocked and scared kid.

You blushed as you passed by lingeries hanging on the walls. Not lying to yourself, they were so pretty.

You brushed your fingertips gently over the soft materials, some velvety ones, lacy ones and other lingeries more… revealing.

Different boxes at the back of the shop intrigued you as you approached them.

Getting closer, you gulped feeling a little lump in you throat.

“what the fuck are these oh my gosh” you whisper-yelled completely shocked.

Not only vibrators were there, but anal plugs, anal beads, dildos, strap-on dildos , bdsm toys… handcuffs, ropes , flogger , whips, open mouth gag, blindfolds, spanking paddles, cock rings (pls help me!!), fleshlights …

“nipple clamps? That sounds so painful.” you whined covering your chest.

”urethral sound? oh lord i don’t even have a penis and I can feel the pain." you held your stomach, disgust painting your face.

“the hell are these? rabbit vibrator? butterfly vibrator?… bondage hood?? h-how do people breath oh my-”

(little break, let me clean my horrible search history real quick and drink some water my head is spinning with all these new information lmao)

Looking around you noticed bondage furniture and other stuffs making you uncomfortable.

“Chaeyoung is completely insane what the hell!”

“Good afternoon, how can I help you?”

A really familiar voice could be heard behind you. You turned around only to see your best friend.

”J-Jungkook!?“ you said louder than you thought.

“y-y/n?! What are you doing here?” shock written all over his red face.

”I’m hm I.. wait! What are you doing here?” you said trying to avoid his question.

Jungkook stayed quiet, mouth opening but no words coming out.

Looking at his shirt, you noticed the logo of the shop on it. ”you work here?“

Your eyes widened as you glanced at his red ears.

”hm.. yes.” he replied, head down as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

 “Oh.. that’s why you’ve never tell me more about your job…“ you trailed out.

He nodded looking at you again.

“and you? What are you doing here huh?” he asked curiosity laced in his voice.

You chewed on your bottom lip, searching for an answer.

“so?” he smiled teasingly ears still red.

“yo stop with your weird thoughts!” you punched him on his shoulder.

“personal stuff.” you muttered.

“well, I guessed it’s for personal stuff.” he looked around you smirking.

“oh shut up.”

“so what.. are you searching for?” you looked up at him shocked.

“eh that’s my job calm down.” he laughed as you looked around searching for someone else than your best friend to help you.

“I .. hm.. I came for this!” you grabbed a random box on the shelve next to you not even looking at it.

“wow..is this for you?” Jungkook tried his best not to laugh.

“yes!”

“never knew my bestie has a dick.” you looked down at the box .. cock ring.

You closed your eyes embarrassment washing over you. He laughed softly as you put the box back at his place quickly.

Looking for a diversion, you glanced behind him “hey what’s that?!” you pointed at a random spot.

When Jungkook looked over his shoulder, you grabbed the box of a vibrator running away with it.

“what?” he turned back only to see that you weren’t here anymore.

You stopped running, putting your hand over your heart as you tried to breath slower.

Looking up, you noticed that you were at the lingerie "booth”. Your eyes stayed glued on one of them.

A black one exactly.

You touched the soft bra, fingers sliding on the lacy material. It was just so cute and sexy at the same time.

You shook your head walking at the front of the shop to the cashier.

After paying your product, the cashier told you with no shame to “have fun”.

Gosh what a day.

❁ — •*:｡✩

You groaned exasperatedly throwing your purchase on your bed, this one bouncing on the mattress and ending on the floor.

You decided to take a shower, letting the warm water caress his way down your body pleasantly, helping your muscles relax, washing the stress and shame away.

After your shower, you went downstairs opening your fridge to take a bottle of ice cold water. You needed something fresh to calm down from all the events that happened today.

You swallowed down the liquid, the cold water hitting your throat in a pleasant way.

You jumped when you suddenly heard knocks on your door startling you.

You furrowed your eyebrows checking your phone to see if Chaeyoung texted you announcing she was coming over but nothing.

Opening the door you were faced to the last person you wanted to see today. The embarrassment too “fresh” to handle.

“Hi.” Jungkook smiled shyly.

You looked down nodding acknowledging his presence.

“hm.. can I come in?” he asked after a few seconds.

“oh! yea yea of course.” you let him in, closing the door behind.

“so.. what bring you here?” you talked still avoiding his eyes.

“can’t I come visit my favorite best friend?” he tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow up playfully.

“your one and only best friend.” you huffed.

“yep! my only one. mine.” he grinned cutely.

“yes. yours.” you smiled back this time looking at him, this one still smiling.

The atmosphere changed. You didn’t know how, why but it changed.

Something in Jungkook’s gaze changed for a second before he cleared his throat.

The word ‘yours’ affecting him a bit too much.

He couldn’t think like that, no , you’re his best friend.

But he wanted you more than that. He wanted you to be his.

A pleasant silence settled as you stared at each other, his eyes on your lips time to time.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed out.

It was so sudden yet so tempting.

“yes.” you whispered as he approached you taking your face in his hands gently before connecting his lips with yours.

He kissed you softly, his hand sliding down your side to rest on your hip.

Kissing him felt so magical. It felt so unreal.

Jungkook pulled away, resting his forehead on yours before chuckling.

“i’ve never thought I’d kiss my pretty best friend one day.”

You chuckled hiding your face on his chest. He pulled you closer, hugging you.

This hug wasn’t like the others you shared before. This one was different. You could feel his heart beating faster when you wrapped your arms around him.

“y/n.” he spoke again.

You looked up at him waiting for him to continue.

“i.. i think.. I’m in love with you.” his cheeks red from the confession.

“think?” you teased.

He rolled his eyes smilling widely “I’m in love with you.”

“i’m in love with you too.” you said shyly before kissing his cheek.

He smiled before capturing your lips for another kiss, a sweet and loving one.

This time the kiss was longer, his hands creeping behind your back by your waist and tugging you closer onto his body.

The way your bodies were against each other’s made you feel some type of way.

A feeling you’ve never felt before. An unfamiliar feeling deep down in your stomach making you moan into the kiss as Jungkook’s hand went on your lower back pushing you harder on him.

He groaned feeling blood rushing down there. His growing boner pressed on your lower stomach.

You pulled away breathing heavily.

“I want you.” Jungkook whispered, his hands playing with the strings of your -his- hoodie.

“I want you too.”

You looked toward the stairs. Jungkook got the hint and took your hand in his walking upstairs.

It wasn’t the first time he came into your bedroom but this time, it wasn’t for studying, watching movies on your sleepovers or take naps… no this time was different.

Jungkook closed the door before walking to you, taking your chin between his thumb and index.

He leaned down, his lips envelopping yours into a loving and slow kiss again.

He started leaving little pecks, his lips trailing down to your jawline, to your neck sucking gently on the soft skin.

You walked backward to your bed letting your body fall on it pulling Jungkook in the process on top of you. He giggled softly as you caressed his cheek softly.

Your fingers went down, playing with the buttons of his shirt before unbuttoning them slowly one by one while looking into his eyes. He helped you taking it off completely throwing it away.

He bent down, lips on the side of your neck pressing light kisses, his hands sliding under your hoodie.

“can I?” he said gently pulling at the hem of the garment.

You nodded before sitting and raising your arms up. Jungkook chuckled pulling it off your beautiful body.

You suddenly froze, realizing that you were half-naked in front of him.

Your hands flew directly to your bra-covered breasts. If you felt exposed with your underwear on, you wondered how you’ll feel naked.

“don’t be shy.” Jungkook said softly.

“Easy to say when you don’t have breasts.” you muttered.

“i do have breats! But they’re super flat..it’s like they’re non-existent.” he said playfully palming his pecs.

“oh gosh stop.” you laughed slapping his arm.

Jungkook laughed too before taking your hands in his.

“look at me.” he started “your body is so beautiful. You are so beautiful. Don’t be shy around me. You know you can trust me and be yourself with me. So don’t hide from me.” you locked eyes with him, his words making your heart skip a beat.

No one ever talked like that with you.. about you.

You nodded with a smile decorating your lips.

“That’s my girl” he said as he peck your forehead.

He laid you down again gently, hands wandering on the bare skin, so soft as his fingertips caress their way up and down, goosebumps raising after their journeys. 

Jungkook lowered his head, his soft lips on your collarbone starting leaving open mouth kisses and little love bites there and then.

His mouth cascaded down on your chest, sucking on the sensitive skin to leave little reddish and purplish flowers.

He continued his way down, kissing every part he could, not forgetting to leave little marks proving that he has worshipped your beautiful body as it should.

He stopped when he reached your panties, looking up at you, a silent request to have your permission to take it off.

You hesitated for awhile, rethinking about his words. You did trust him. A lot. More than yourself perhaps? But being this exposed was really difficult for you.

Were you ready for this step?

“If you’re not ready or if you’re uncomfortable it’s ok princess, we can stop.” you heard him speak again pushing you out of your thoughts.

“take it off.” you answered.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes.” you lifted your hips a little bit as he dragged the soft material off your legs.

“so pretty.” Jungkook murmured as he caressed your thighs.

He took his time adorning them with love bites and hickeys, making them look even prettier at his eyes.

His face got higher, just above your most sensitive part.

He kissed your clit gently making you hiss. The new sensation so good making it throb, anticipation growing more and more.

The need to close your legs really tempting. And that’s exactly what you did.

Jungkook got off the bed to get rid of his pant.

You immediately looked away when he glanced at you, hands on the waistband of his boxer ready to push it down.

He blushed thinking about the fact that it was also his first time being naked in front of someone.

He still chuckled at your shyness murmuring a quiet “cute.”

Jungkook hissed as he finally freed his cock from his confinement, the sensitive tip hitting the air before slapping against his stomach.

You breath hitched when you felt the bed dip again signaling that Jungkook was back.

He made sure you were confortable, pillows behind your head, blanket over your bodies as you suggested for more ‘intimacy’.

Jungkook hovered you before talking again “are you nervous?”.

You gulped before letting a small yes escape from your mouth.

“Are you?” Jungkook nodded.

Both of you knew it was both your first time.

“If you’re not ready we can stop.” you said softly.

He smiled shyly nodding “y/n we can stop at any moment. Understood?”

You nodded hand cupping his cheek, thumb caressing the cheekbone.

Jungkook positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock rubbing teasingly on your folds making you moan.

“´k are you sure?” he asked one last time.

You nodded before he stopped you, shaking his head.

“I need a verbal approval y/n.”

“I’m sure and I want you to be sure too.” you said softly making him hummed.

“oh wait wait!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“what is it?” you asked confused many scenarios creating in your head ready to make you panick.

“be my girlfriend. no! I mean, w-would you like to be my girlfriend?” you chuckled at how cute he was.

“I’d love to Kook” you pecked his lips making him smile widely, eyes turning into little crescents.

Jungkook started entering you slowly and carefully making sure not to hurt you, checking up on your facial expressions time to time.

You gripped on his bicep hard as it started to burn. The unfamiliar intrusion uncomfortable.

You hissed, the pain making his presence more and more.

“are you ok? Do you want me to stop? Pull out? I can st-”

“i’m good don’t worry, keep going slowly please.” you whispered.

Jungkook peppered kisses on your cheek and neck, to distract you from the pain of the stretch as he pushed in deeper until he completely bottomed.

You groaned, tears forming in your eyes “shh, you’re doing so well darling.”

He caressed your cheeks a bit concerned “Tell me when I can move yea?”

On the other side, Jungkook suffered in his own way.

He scrunched his nose, bottom lip trapped between his teeth at the warm tightness around him so foreign, his mind going wild.

You took a deep breath, trying to surpass the burn down there.

You nodded gesturing him to move again. This one, thrusted in and out slowly, taking his time not to hurt you and enjoy the new sensation around him.

He groaned as he started feeling this exciting and pleasuring feeling making his cock twitched inside you.

You moaned softly, the pain fading away and the pleasure coming gradually.

The burn was still there but it was bearable, it felt good as Jungkook continued his slow moves.

“J-Jungkook” you breathed out hand gripping his bicep tightly nails digging into the flesh.

“you ok princess?” he whispered against your lips.

“It f-feels good.. you feel so good” your eyelids getting heavy, trying your best to keep your eyes on him.

He looked so handsome. On top of you, lips swollen with all the kisses exchanged, a light blush decorating his cheeks, his ears red, chest gleaming with sweat, little droplets formed on his forehead….. so ethereal.

As Jungkook continued moving in and out of you, the pleasure took over, the painful burn long forgotten.

Your hands travelled to his back, fingernails were buried into the soft flesh of his muscular back drawing little crescents.

“you’re doing so good baby. so good for me.” he caressed your cheek.

Jungkook took his time making love to you, nibbling on your earlobe lightly as he whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

You scratched his back as he gripped your thigh lifting it a bit getting deeper inside you.

“fuck please don’t stop.” you whimpered voice cracking, his length rubbing deliciously against your warm velvelty walls.

The wet and warm feeling around him made him feel lightheaded. You felt too good to be true.

He pressed butterfly kisses on your jawline, his lips travelling down leaving beautiful dark red flowers on your neck, continuing his path to your collarbone biting it lightly enough to form a little mark. “so pretty.” he whispered more to himself.

He let out a low groan as you clenched around him “fuck!” he rolled his hips sensually grazing over your sweet spot making you whined out loudly.

You ran your fingers through his soft locks. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back into the pillows as Jungkook hit deeper.

Art. Just art. You looked like a masterpiece.

All covered up with hickeys, the red and purple marks on your skin making his eyes sparkling with lust, admiration and love.

“you’re so beautiful. so beautiful all marked up.” he said fingers running over the little bruises he left. “mine. you’re mine.”

The vein of his neck was prominent as he moaned when you tightened around him, the pressure making him weak to a point “baby d-don’t stop clenching p-please.” 

“Jungkook I think I’m- fuck.” you moaned feeling the knot in your lower stomach tighter, your heart beating faster as the pleasure propagated inside you.

Jungkook placed your calve over his waist, he cupped your jawline, his lips barely touching yours as he whispered “cum for me love.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at the way your walls convulse around him. “fuck! I’m so near!”

Jungkook slid his veiny hands up your arms until they reached your hands, pinning them at each side of your head as he tangled your fingers together.

The sweet little gesture making your heart stop.

He bent down to press kisses on the sensitive marked-skin of your neck. His touches overwhelming you.

Butterflies finally blooming into your lower stomach as you came around him.

The sudden wave of pleasure forming tears in your eyes as they slid down your cheeks. His name leaving your throat in a high pitched moan.

Your soft moans pushed him over the edge of his own release, he moaned deeply as he came inside you, filling you up to the brim.

The warm cum made you sigh as you let your body relax against the soft sheet.

“i love you.” he pushed stands of hair out of your face.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, the three words making your heart melt.

“i love you.” you whispered softly, caressing the back of his head gently.

Jungkook buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath tickling you.

You chuckled, hand stroking up and down his back to soother the scratched skin. He looked up at you before pecking the tip of your nose.

“’m tired.” you mumbled yawning.

“let’s get you clean up first cutie.”

He was about to pull out when you groaned pulling him down on you. “let’s stay like this please?” shyness showing up again.

“as you wish princess.”

He laid a kiss on your temple before turning around on his back, pulling you on top of him. His slow heartbeats and an last I love you were the last thing you heard before drifting off in his warm embrace.

a beautiful relationship started and probably a wild one …

—

a/n : not a frequent f2l fic right? I hope i did good - a part 2? I love writing fluffy smut since I’m a romantic person 😭 sorry sorry. Anyways, thanks for reading luvs. Take care of yourselves :)

+ I forgot to add that jk and reader are both college students and it’s a part job for Jungkook.

[sturnlova]

Podcast room (C.S)

(Chris Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, F receiving, kinda new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, fluff, i don’t know what else 😭 )

Chris : Orange

Y/N : Pink

Matt : Blue

Nick : Purple

( Word count : 750 )

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“Good morning campers, it’s your favourite host Nick Sturniolo… It’s Matt Sturniolo…. And it’s Chris Sturniolo with our special guest my girl Y/N!!”” As they all introduced me and asked me a couple of questions to kick it off Chris slowly but steadily pushed my skirt a bit up and my orange panties to the side, orange is a weird colour i know but chris sure seemed to like it..to the side.

Chris looked at me and used his index and middle finger to spread me a bit open and used one of his fingers to circle my clit at a agonising pace. Chris looked at Matt with a smirk and then Nick to avoid long eye contact. Nick continued on there conversation, as they usually would like every other Monday.

He added both of his fingers inside of me without a warning causing me to gasp in surprise but i seemed to cover it with a cough “Y/N you alright there it seemed like you were shocked?” Matt spoke with intent to me but started at Chris well he spoke “Ok what the fuck is going on guys” Nick spoke and looked at all of us and than continued to move on to the next topic… birds.

Chris continued using his fingers and curling them to hit the spongy spot inside of me making my legs shake due to the fact i couldn’t move or make sounds as his brothers would know that there youngest brother is fingering me underneath the table. I whispered in Chris’ ear “Chr- “ that’s not my name princess” “daddy please stop it let me cum please no more teasing, i can’t hold it for lon-longer ple-“ i was cut of with Chris’ fast movements of his fingers. The boy had magic in his fingers tips for sure, He curled them and pushed them in and out attempting to make sure my pussy sounds weren’t heard.

“ Y/N what do you think about birds?” Chris asked me, Nick and Matt stared at me waiting for a answer, “uhm ngh i think the-they are sc-i got cut of from my orgasm but i still had to keep some dignity i think they are scary i don’t like them.” Chris stared at me once again and giggled well slowly pulling his fingers out of my velvety walls and adding on to my sentence with “yeah i don’t like them they are weird.”

Chris brought his fingers to his mouth pretending to bit them but in reality he was trying too suck them clean. I just started at him with a flushed look waiting for this podcast to end. I was finally caught out of my trance and started adding onto the conversation until it was over.

-

Finally the podcast is over i thought to myself, i needed a glass of water. As we all walked out of the room Nick said he was gonna go edit some pre-filmed videos and just to go to order food without him since we all know his order, we all agreed.

Matt was obviously in the drivers seat, i was in the back and Chris was in the passenger seat. Chris played music in the background to stop the silence but Matt wanted to stop the silence to. “ So Y/N how do you feel knowing that i know you just got fingered in the filming room?” my jaw dropped in shock and along with Chris’. Chris hit matt on the shoulder and told him to shut it and that his just mad he dosent get pussy as good as mine.

I was gonna crawl into my skin, but instead i went insanely red. “It’s ok baby, Matt is angry he gets no bitches, but you ok tho?” this is just making the embarrment worse “ i’m ok dad- Chris i’m ok Chris” “ WHAT WAS THATT NAME UH UHHH” Matt screamed out acting like he didn’t just talk about me getting fingered. This is just getting worse by the minute. I would like to go home now with my food.

[mistydeyes]

hey, can i please request headcanons of 141 boys with reader that is a youtuber?

omg yes ofc! i used to (and still am) a HUGE YOUTUBE WATCHER so this was so fun to do :) thank you again for requesting!

vidcon but the uk version

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summary: You're not any regular civilian, you're a Youtuber ;) In all seriousness, here's some headcanons of how the boys interact with your channel and support you!

pairing: 141 x YouTuber!Reader

warnings: swearing

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price - beauty and skincare

you were already big on YouTube when you met John

he can't go into a Sephora without someone mentioning your latest video or TikTok

someone would assume you were an employee based on how you were able to help the fan pick out the best skincare and makeup

he was shocked at the sheer number of brand deals you participate in

he also is in awe at the corner you had dedicated to your ring light and makeup desk with a nice camera set-up

when you eventually move in together, he's just used to the number of parcels you get daily

he will insist on at least giving you some money when you do a beauty haul (even though you tell him you don't need it)

one time he tried to surprise you by picking out some things that you mentioned

now your most popular video is “trying out makeup that my boyfriend picked out”

his only annoyance is when you accidentally stain one of the face towels

eventually just buys a new set meant specifically for you when you wash off a look

you're planning on having a new video where you do skincare on him and finally get at some of his blackheads

soap - gaming

prior to meeting Johnny, you already had a sizable channel

you primarily did long lets plays and the occasional stream

your setup is absolutely gorgeous -i'm talking led lights, two monitors that have the best processing power, pro gaming chair, and posters

it took awhile to curate but it's your baby and you make sure he knows that

loves watching you game and will occasionally keep you company for those long streams

it reminds him of when his younger siblings would watch him game on their early Playstation and X-Box consoles

your subscribers love when he's there though because he has the best reactions

your most popular video? "my boyfriend plays five nights at freddy's ⚠️headphone warning⚠️"

despite having amazing technical skills on the field, his multitasking sucked and he would always forget to check on foxy or overuse the battery

you had a great time editing the video after and emphasizing the jumpscares

he won't subject you to rewatching your videos with him but he likes watching other channels or collars you've done

"This guy is absolute shite" "I know, that's why I don't play multiplayer with him anymore"

he'll be so excited if you ever get invited to a big event like Pax, E3, or Gamescom

you basically have to keep him on track as he loves stopping in artist's alley and looking at all the trinkets and merch people are selling

make sure to bring a huge suitcase because your game room is getting a few new additions

gaz - internet documentaries

think of Internet Historian or Down the Rabbit Hole vibe

your channel is dedicated to internet phenomena like Florida Man or the movement to Storm Area 51

you'd tell the facts of the trend and then add a few funny commentary pieces

usually your videos are 45 min to an 1 hr long so a lot of work goes into it

it's more of a hobby than anything but Kyle always thinks the amount of research you do for it is insane

"Babe I think you need a new laptop" "Why?" "I always know you're about to make a new docu-series because it sounds like a fucking airplane takin off"

once your laptop doesn't sound like its going to blow up, he'll be sure to keep you company as you write down your script

"Did you know that there was a convention for X or X happened?" is how most of your conversations go

he'll always smile and let you give him a spark notes version of what happened

will be the one telling you too sleep and that you can continue editing tomorrow

loves when companies send you things for ad reads

hoards all of the items from Dollar Shave Club and Raycon (his absolute favorite sponsor of yours)

he'll occasionally watch your videos while he's cooking or at the gym

always loves learning something new even if its about a failed furry convention

"I liked your latest video" is such a huge compliment from him because he knows how much effort you put into it

he'll occasionally feed you ideas that he sees while he's scrolling through social media

"You should do something on Hat Man" "WHO??" "Yk the guy you see when you take too much Benadryl, apparently Soap sees him too"

ghost - asmr

tbh doesn’t think much about your channel

you’ll just occasionally leave the room to record or crack some slime in front of a camera

however when your channel is mentioned in conversation, he considers revisiting

“have you heard about this asmr thing?” Gaz asked the group and Soap immediately interjected

“OH YEAH some of them are amazing to watch alone,” he said with a wink

“Like this account-“ Soap wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Ghost snatched the phone out of his hand

“Sorry just couldn’t see it” he apologized and he tried to suppress his disgust that someone else was listening to you at night like that

after that, he takes another look and watches a few of your more popular videos

ofc its your series roleplaying as a nurse or doctor taking care of someone

as well as one where you act like a sleepy girlfriend waking up next to their significant other

he will never say that he watches your videos but you do notice the uptick in views and likes (it's a cute little secret of his)

one time you attempted to ask all these questions about being in the military to help you write dialogue for your latest combat medic series

"People seriously want stuff like that?" "You'll be surprised, not tell me what you usually have in your pack"

he will cringe when you pull your asmr voice on him and whisper in your ear

"Cut that shit out."

[darnell-la]

𝗪𝗵𝘆? 𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹

pairing: protective!rafe cameron x druggie!pogue!reaser

warning: drug abuse, alcohol abuse, drugged, assaults mentioned (not Rafe), hair pulling, slapping, mean pet names, etc.

note: we love a dark, mean, or overprotective Rafe Cameron, but author “S” decided to write a sweet Rafe towards a pogue.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

————————————————————————

𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩

Being a Pogue isn’t easy. Most Kooks say they get off and get whatever they want because their island focuses more on the Pogues. That’s easy for someone to say who gets money consistently every week.

Y/n works at the golf bar, serving people who hate her. Most of the time, she doesn’t get a tip, but if she does, it’s a big amount for a group of kids who want to show how much they have versus her.

Being on the island is cruel, and the only thing y/n feels is worth her time, is sitting at the beach, getting high and drunk anytime she can.

“Just need a few grams pre-rolled,” y/n said as she walked through Barry’s trailer. “Gave you a lil extra since my last client pissed me off. Same price, don’t worry about the rest,” Barry said before hanging y/n a bag.

Y/n left Barry’s trailer and headed to work. Today was going to be a rough day. It was a Friday, and everyone came here towards the end of the day because of the weekend.

“Hey, y/n! — Could you handle that table over there?” Y/n’s boss asked, and before looking, she said “Yes,”. Anything he asked for, she’d do for the extra tips he usually gives her from the tip jar overnight.

“Hey, guys! I’ll be your waitress for the night. My name is y/n, and I’m here for whatever you need,” Y/n fumbled her notepad, a bit nervous to cover a huge table of teen boys who usually treat her bad.

“Didn’t know they had pretty Pogue’s,” a boy said. Y/n looked up, finally getting a better look at their faces. She knew them all from school. Some are in every class she takes.

“Oh shit, you’re that Pogue with all A’s. Hey, girl!” A dude said. You smiled with a nod, not really wanting to talk. “Let’s order,” a boy that she noticed right away. Rafe Cameron.

Everyone knows how he feels about Pogues. He fights them. Embarrassed them. Steals from them. She had to stay nice today before he made something up to get her fired. She didn’t know what he was capable of tonight.

“And make sure to do it snappy, dirty princess,” a boy said before y/n walked off with all of their orders. The comment didn’t bother her, since she’s heard worse.

“Isn’t she like top of the class?” Rafe randomly asked, interrupting his friend’s conversations. “Yeah, why?” Topper asked. “Why is she here? Workin’ as a waiter,” he asked, knowing these jobs are for the lowest.

“She’s still a Pogue. Heard they don’t cover her stay at the dorms, so she stays at her dump,” Kelce said, making the table laugh. Rafe chuckled but felt off doing so.

He saw her earlier today, leaving Barry’s trailer. He was curious if they were fucking, so he asked him when he came for his usual order. “I wish,” was Barry’s response.

If she was any other Pogue, he would’ve known they were there for drugs, but her? She didn’t seem like the type. Top of her class and knew what she was doing. Why was a girl like her drugging up?

Throughout the night, y/n was moving back and forth between tables. Luckily, more tables than usual tipped her.

She thought this was finally going to be a good night until the Rafe’s table got drunk. They began making noises, throwing shots at y/n every time she walked past or served them more drinks.

She didn’t notice, but Rafe was the only one who didn’t say anything. His friends tried to convince him, but he said he “wasn’t in the mood,”.

“Ayo!? — Where’s my beer?” A Timothy asked. Y/n quickly made his drink and ran over to serve. “Took you long enough. Might take a dollar or two off your tip,” he said as the table chuckled.

“I’m sorry, I was pretty busy-“ she tried explaining herself. “Doing what? Stealing. Oh, shit, people! Check your pockets!” He shouted, embarrassing her, but she tried her best not to show it.

“Sorry, it won’t happen again,” she said. Seconds later, the boy pulled y/n onto his lap. “Let’s hope not, or you’ll have to make up for it, hm?” He said. Y/n wanted to slap him, but she couldn’t. She’s never been in a position like this.

“Right, princess?” He asked in her ear as his hands traveled her body. “Y-Yes sir,” she stuttered as the table laughed but Rafe. “How about you take a break and stay here with us. Talk about yourself,” Kelce suggested.

“Yeah, do that,” Timothy focused on her curves as she shook in embarrassment and lack of comfort. “I-I wish, but I can’t. I have other tables,” she said, moving to leave, but Timothy tightened his grip on her.

“But Ian done with you yet,” he said. Of course, his friends found it funny. Y/n tried pushing his hands off of her respectfully and leaving, but he didn’t like that. “Kinda hot when a Pogue resists,” he said before sniffing and lightly kissing her neck.

Y/n yelled as she strongly pushed off of him. “C’mon, baby-“ he went to reach for her but she quickly gave him a punch to his face, causing him to fall out of his chair. He was drunk and it was unexpected.

“Hey!” His Friends said as they got up. Even Rafe. “The fuck is your problem!” Another friend yelled at her, pushing her to the ground roughly.

“Hey, hey! — What’s going on here?” Y/n’s boss asked as Y/n got up. “This Pogue punched me!” Timothy said. “What!? You fuckin’ touched me without permission!” Y/n yelled back.

“It was a joke you crazy bitch,” Timothy touched his lip, feeling an open cut. “I’m bleeding! Is this what you hire!?” He yelled, shocking the boss. “You basically sexually assaulted me!” Y/n yelled.

“Barley, you freak. Why would I want something like you? A fuckin’ Pogue!” He yelled, aching y/n’s stomach. How could someone do what he did, and then talk to you like you meant nothing.

“Y/n, go home,” her boss spoke. “But-“ she tried saying. “Go home! Take the rest of the week off,” he said. Kelce and some of the rest laughed, knowing that would fuck with her income. Getting paid all week wasn’t great for her.

Y/n stormed out of her job in anger, pissed off that the Kooks always get what they want. Her boss has cameras, and he didn’t think twice about looking. This was bullshit!

It’s been hours since y/n got home. She couldn’t help but drink and light a couple to ease her mind. She was overthinking and hurt. What if she lost her job? How could she possibly live decently?

On the other hand, Rafe got into a fight with Timothy after he brought up the fact he made sure to talk to her boss and tell him if she came back, he’d sue the place.

Rafe was disgusted. He started the whole situation and ended it like some bitch. Y/n had been nice to the table all night, and he repaid her like that? No. He didn’t like that one bit.

“How could you choose a Pogue over your homies!?” Timothy had yelled at him before Rafe left. Rafe didn’t know got to answer, but he knew this wasn’t right. Something in him saw the real struggle of a Pogue that he’d never paid attention to before.

It’s early in the morning. Y/n’s awake and Rafe is at her front door. He quickly knocked, needing to talk to her about last night.

Y/m groaned, hoping this wasn’t one of her friends. They know she’s unavailable before 12pm. “What!?” She dragged before opening the door to face with a Kook. A Kook at her door was new.

“What do you want?” She asked, slightly closing the door. She didn’t know what he was here for. “Are you seriously high? At this hour?” Rafe asked, feeling anger run through his body instantly.

“Why do you care? Not like you don’t snort white dust every night,�� she said. “I’ve been clean. For 2 years,” she said with a straight face. Y/n felt horrible. Why would she bring someone else’s addictions up?

“I — I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ she tried apologizing. “It’s okay,” he genuinely said. “But what’s not okay, is you high at this time of day. That’s not good for you,” he said, making her roll her eyes. Who is he to tell her what she should do.

“What did you come here for?” She asked, not wanting to talk to Rafe Cameron about her drug life. What if he used it against her. “To apologize for my friend. Had to teach him a lesson last night,” y/n said, confused.

Rafe lifted his hands, causing y/n to flinch. She soon realized he was trying to show her his knuckles. He had to beat Timothy good.

“Oh my god, Rafe!” She said. “Nah uh — Why the fuck did you flinch?” Rafe asked, feeling so much confusion that was covering his anger. “I-I don’t know,” she said. “Does someone beat you or some shit?” He asked as he looked passed her for any signs of a partner.

“Were you beat?” He asked. “God, no, Rafe. I was just- I thought you were gonna hit me,” she said. “Why would I hit you!?” He slightly shouted. “I don’t know! Maybe because you fight JJ and John B any second you get!” Y/n yelled in his face.

Rafe wasn’t expecting this morning to go like this. He came to apologize. Hope he could learn more about her, but now he sees how she sees him. As another Timothy.

“Look, y/n — I’ve been done with that for years. Plus, I’ve never hit a woman in my life. I came here to have a decent conversation with you, that’s all,” Rafe spoke.

“Well, I’m not up for speaking. Needa figure out how to make money since I woke up to an email, firing me from my one and only job,” she said, slightly mad at him, but only because he’s a Kook.

“I can help you,” he said, making her scoff. “No — No way Ima let some Kook, better yet, Rafe Cameron help me get a job because he sees me as some weak girl,” she said, about to close her front door, but he pushed it open, all the way.

“Y/n, I’m trying to help you. Can you not see that?” He asked. “No, I can’t! All you do is lie and-“ she tried continuing. “That was years ago! Just because you haven’t changed, doesn’t mean I couldn’t!” He yelled in her face.

The two were silent. Y/n was silenced. He was right, and she knew that. Why is she blaming a random Kook for her lifestyle? She’s the one who uses up her money for drugs. Not him. Her.

“Bye, Rafe,” y/n said in a low soft voice as she closed her front door. Rafe’s mouth opened, but he didn’t know what to say. Why would he yell at her life that? He knows how he used to feel when people yelled at him and he was hooked on drugs.

Fast forward to the weekend. Y/n’s outside on some Kook’s house party patio, smoking a joint while she made conversation with Barry.

She hadn’t been to a Kook party in months, but now that she’s unemployed, she had time. Barry also offered her a free supply if she came tonight, so she did.

Dressed in a tight sundress she bought herself last year. She knew she looked good. She hated going to parties, and looking like a Pogue, even though people already knew who she was.

“Needa make my rounds. See ya inside?” Barry said before leaving her outside to smoke alone. Y/n took a drag of her joint before walking her head back. She felt great. Being broke was finally out of her mind.

“Unemployed princess is here? What a surprise. Haven’t seen you at one of these in a while,” Timothy spoke as he came from behind her. Her mood was instantly ruined.

“Could you like, piss off? You’ve done enough in my life,” y/n said, going to take another drag until one of his friends slapped it out of her hand.

“Hey!” She went to get up until Timothy pushed her back onto the couch. Hard. “Don’t get feisty. No one’s here to save your ass,” he said, pointing to the big crowd that wasn’t paying attention to them. He and she knew they wouldn’t help her. She’s a Pogue after all.

“Look — I just want to have a relaxing night. I’m sorry for slapping you-“ she said. “Punching,” Kelce interrupted. “Yeah — Punched, and that shit hurt,” Timothy said before grabbing a fist full of her hair.

“Have you ever been punched in the face, Pogue? Because I could show ya,” he said as y/n stayed still. What would she possibly do? His grip was hard. She felt pain through their whole scalp.

“But actually, — You’re too pretty, for that. Maybe apologize instead,” he suggested. “I-I’m sorry. I won’t do-“ she tried saying. “Nah uh — Not that kind of apology,” Timothy’s hand traced down to his crotch before he gripped it, giving her his idea.

His friends laughed as she looked at him in disgust and shock. Out here? In front of anyone? What kind of human is he?

“No way,” she said, moving to get up but he quickly slapped her across her face, causing her to fall onto the couch she was sitting on.

“Goddamn Pogue,” he spoke as he climbed into her, quickly tugging on her dress. Y/n screamed and kicked as his friends stood around, laughing and drinking at the sight of their friend trying to assault her once again.

Rafe had seen the scene a while ago. As soon as he saw the group walk up to her, he made his way towards them. He was sadly across the yard, talking to Topper, so he couldn’t stop the slap Timothy gave her.

He knew when he got over to them, he’d go off. How dare he mess with her after he told him not to last night.

“Piece of fucking shit,” Rafe said as he pulled the boy off of y/n and instantly threw a punch to his face. “Oh shit,” one of the boys shouted, making people look their way. Finally.

“What did I say?” Rafe asked before giving him a punch. “Told you to leave her alone, didn’t I, huh? Didn’t I!?” He punched again. “Told you what would happen if I caught you near her again, didn’t I?” Rafe kept lunching.

Y/n grabbed her bag and ran off, pushing through the group in embarrassment. The dress was ripped, and her bar was on display. Her tits even showed a bit. She had to get away.

The poor girl ran to the beach to get away from the human noises. She needed something to block out her thoughts. Their voices.

She thought the waves would help, but it didn’t. The waves were very loud, but the thoughts were louder. He was going to use her. He ripped at her clothes, and no one helped. People watched. Laughed. Talked. No one helped.

Y/n threw her bag to the ground and scattered through it, trying to find a blunt Barry he’d just given to her. She needed something. Badly.

She quickly grabbed one and lit it with a drag, rushing the smoke into her lungs until it burned. She coughed but felt better. She always does, until she doesn’t.

Y/n kept taking drags, noticing the taste was different, but who cares. As long as this shit gets her what she needs.

“Y/n!?” Rafe yelled out as he ran the way she ran. After he was done with Timothy, he told Topper who ran over to the scene, to call the cops on him. He needed to be thrown away for what he did to y/n.

“Y/n!?” Rafe basically screamed, needing to know where she was. Why did she run this way? Towards the water? At night? That’s dangerous. What if she somehow got in the water and drowned? He needed to find her.

“Y/n!” He continued yelling by/n could hear him, but her kind was so where else. His voice and the waves were going through her kind like crazy, but she curled up and ignored them.

He blunt, lighter, and bag laid next to her curled body. She felt different. She felt like everything was attacking her at once. She could feel his hands on her and people encouraging his actions.

“Why the hell y/n,” Rafe ran across the girl and dropped to his knees. “Y/n - Y/n!” He pulled her to sit on her up to sit. Her eyes were closed and she shook her head.

“D-Don’t — Please! I-I’ll do better!” She cried out. “Oh my god,” Rafe looked at her, feeling pain in his heart. She was beyond fucked in the head. He remembers how it felt.

“We gotta get you out of here,” Rafe said as he put out her blunt and then put it and the lighter in her bag. He threw the bag over his shoulders and tightened the straps before throwing y/n over his own shoulder. It took a lot, but he got it done.

“S-Sorry, sorry! — I’m so sorry!” She cried out. Rafe’s eyes filled with tears. What is she thinking right now? Does she think he’ll hurt her? He hated the thought of that. He’d never do that.

On the way to Rafe’s dorm, y/n was knocked out. He watched her all night, and she didn’t drink or smoke enough to be like this.

Rafe searched through her bag after he parked, to take a look at her blunt he saw Barry give her. He never trusted Barry, and he was right not to.

He could see the mixture of hashish and some Xani bars crushed into her roll-up. “He’s so fuckin’ dead,” Rafe said to himself. He’ll be sending the cops after him too.

Y/n is now in Rafe’s bed, sound asleep. He changed her into his T-shirt and shorts so she’d be comfortable. He didn’t want her waking up in the dress some Kook ripped at.

Y/n woke up later the next day. Her mind was fuzzy, but she felt fine. She felt like she’s gotten the best sleep she’s ever had.

The girl went to go back to sleep until she remembered she never made it back to her bed. Whose bed is she in?

Y/n slowly turned around in the bed, noticing someone was next to her. When she finally saw the man, her heart dropped. What did she do?

“Rafe,” y/n said as her heart began to pound. She didn’t know what she was feeling, but her body did. She was stunned.

Rafe groaned as he turned towards y/n. His eyes were closed because he was still in his sleep. “Fuck,” she said low, trying to think of what she should do. She can’t wake up and have a normal conversation with Rafe. In Rafe bed. In Rafe Cameron’s fucking bed.

Y/n took her time but managed to get out of bed without waking him up. That’s when she noticed she had his clothes on. God, this isn’t looking good for her.

Y/n slowly tipped-toed to Rafe’s room door, pulling in the handle but it wouldn’t open. She pulled hard and noticed a keyhole. With a missing key. Did he lock the door?

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Rafe spoke, making y/n jump. “Fuck, I — Hey! Hey,” she said, pushing her body up against his door. She was in his dorm. This day was getting worse by the second.

“Why don’t you come back over here and lay down. Was a long night last night,” he said. Y/n tried thinking of the night, but nothing was clicking. Not one thing until her eyes landed on her dress on his desk.

Her ripped dress. The dress that Timothy ripped when he tried groping her last night. The dress people watch gets tugged on while they watch.

“O-Oh my god, her heart skipped a breath as she spoke. Y/n placed her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down. Rafe noticed and quickly got up and ran towards her.

“Nah uh, c’mere,” Rafe slowly walked y/n to his bed until she was sat. “Don’t stress — Nothing happened. I finished the job. You won’t ever have to worry about him again,” Rafe said, trying to calm her down.

“B-But-“ she tried saying. “Nah uh, no buts. I got it. I got you. You’re safe and sound. I won’t ever let him or anyone hurt you again,” he said. “Including yourself, so we���re gonna have to figure out this drinking and smoking problem,” he said as she looked at him.

“Yep, and it’s gonna be easy. You have me and-“ she went to say. “T-That’s not possible. Rehab costs money and — And I’m broke,” she said as tears streamed down her face. So much hit her head.

“Hey — Baby. I’ve got you, I said. I’m gonna pay for you, and you’re gonna get clean in no time,” Rafe said, but y/n’s mind stopped at the name he called her. Baby?

“Baby?” She asked. “Yes, a-and I know that confuses you. Fuck — It confused me, but I can’t just watch you ruing yourself. I refuse,” he said like he’s been her friend for years.

“B-But I need it,” she said low. “Why? You’re too beautiful for that shit. You can’t just up and smoke and drink your life away. You’re smart and the best out of all of us in school,” Rafe said.

“Yet, I’m broke. Have no family. Barely any friends. I have no one,” her head lowered. “That’s not true,” he lifted her head slow and softly. “You’ve got me. And I promise, I’m not talking out of my ass. On my father, I’m not,” he said.

Everyone knows Rafe Cameron wants to impress his father, Ward Cameron, so his saying that, was slightly believed y/n. But words need action, and she doesn’t know how those actions can happen in her life. Who would up and help a Pogue?

“Gonna get you clean, get to know you, change the way you see the world. You can change the way people see Pogue’s, y/n. You changed me. And that was without a word being spoken to me,” he placed both of his hands on either side of her cheeks.

“You’re so special, y/n. I’ve always seen it, but never sat and thought about it. I was stupid. Shit, I still and for keeping that motherfucker alive, but don’t worry. I’ll do whatever you need. You need this, y/n. You deserve a better life,” Rafe added.

The two looked at each other for a few seconds without saying a word. Y/n ended up pulling safe into a hug. A hug, thanking him for speaking to her like she meant something.

[gretavanlace]

Welcome To Hell

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, angst, degradation, praise, impact play and illusions to impact play, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk, oral sex, alcohol consumption, etc.

This one spun outta control like I wrote it on black ice. My apologies for length and shitty editing in advance xoxo

Jake hates a scene. Loathes raised voices that might demand the hushed attention of a room. Despises eyes hungrily devouring, unblinking, staring, consuming. The morbid curiosity of it all is abhorrent.

What’s going on here? Those eyes ponder, raking over the situation in devilish glee. It’s human nature, he knows, like when you struggle to look away from something gruesome, but he doesn’t have to like it.

Unless he is strutting his way across a stage, soaking in the anguished, desperate need and admiration of those who buy a ticket to take the ride, he doesn’t want it.

Wrapped in an embellished suit and spilling his soul into the universe from behind a sword made of frets and strings - that is the only time his stoic nature allows him to step into the light when he so often yearns for the shadows.

Jacob is a libertine of the finest sort, but only once the curtain has dropped. Or, with you wearing the marks of his teeth, legs spread wide and inviting, beneath him.

You know of this particular aversion, this detest of observation. Of course you do. You know it now, and you knew it last night. You just hadn’t been able to find the will to give a damn.

So, rather than taking a few deep breaths to center yourself and maybe making the switch to water, you had fumed, allowing frustrated thoughts to stoke the bonfire of anger within you - and you drank. And drank. And drank. Ordering rum and coke after rum and coke until you could feel the bartender clocking you carefully, attempting to decide if he’d overserved you. He had. He most definitely had.

As is so often the case with angry drunks, it suddenly seemed such an ideal time to pick a fight. A good time to pitch your voice loud enough to bring the conversation at your table, in a tucked away corner of the bar, to a grinding halt.

A great time to accuse him of wanting to fuck the bubbly little raven-locked beauty, with the tiny skirt and anything but tiny tits, that had been fluttering around him at the pool table. A sex dripping hummingbird flitting about in his personal space, while he donned a soft, welcoming smile.

A wonderful time to invite him to go fuck himself as you stormed through the crowd dramatically.

A fantastic time to rage against the situation concocted within your inebriated haze, complete with sloppy tears and dramatic overreactions, until Danny had finally wrangled you into an Uber…riding along beside you while you dozed, head heavy on his shoulder. Exhausted from your drunken tantrum.

When you woke this morning, you did so with no memory of how you had ended up in bed, or who had removed the complicated, strappy heels from your feet. Or who, like some great god of mercy, had left the tall glass of water waiting on your bedside table. But you had your suspicions, and they were paired with small flashes of memory that proved you were correct. Daniel. Who else?

Another elusive bit of information was when Jake had finally made it home. You’d found him, splayed across the couch, hair tangled against a throw pillow, boots kicked off, but otherwise fully dressed. He was home, but you were unsure of how long that had been so. He might have collapsed onto the cushions five minutes after Danny tucked you in, or he might have stumbled in with the sun, cock still warm from her mouth.

Though, without the alcohol clouding your judgment, the very idea seemed ridiculous. Jake, with his sleepy eyes and gentle heart could never, and would never, even if he could.

He’d rolled off the sofa while you quietly rummaged around in the fridge, yanking out the ingredients you’d need to create a ‘terribly sorry for being an embarrassing mess last night’ BLT…a peace offering stacked high with peppered bacon and remorse.

When he found you once more, he was showered and looking no worse for wear. He looked so softly domestic in his hard worn jeans and long sleeved T, and you had longed to make amends, but he declined your breakfast of apologies. Even waving off the steaming mug of coffee you held out to him, while muttering something about the studio.

Never one to withhold affection in twisted punishment, he had kissed your forehead and strode out the door, assuring you he’d call if things began to look as though they might run late.

But his irritation with you was evident. Tangible in a way that sent a sharp pang of guilt flashing through your heart. He hadn’t forgotten, and he hadn’t yet forgiven.

You’d spent the rest of the morning ambling through the market. Piling your basket high with carefully selected root vegetables. Bags stuffed full to their brims with parsnips, turnips, and sweet potatoes. Onions, carrots and fennel, nestled in beside the broth and spices that would soon create the base for Jake’s favorite stew.

Veggies, lovingly sliced and diced, were rolling lazily this way and that, dancing in a slow simmer, when the first spits of rain began to pebble at the kitchen windows…

And now, here you sit, waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs, legs tucked to the side and hidden beneath the hem of his favorite outfit. A worn and tattered, thrifted sweatshirt, at least three sizes too large, displaying the name of a university neither of you have ever heard of.

Inexplicably drawn to it at a flea market the two of you had stumbled upon, you plunked down a five dollar bill and immediately made it yours.

That same night, he’d watched you hack away at the sleeves with kitchen scissors, then hem the jagged edges with a needle and thread, tongue clenched between your teeth in concentration. And as he watched, he sank even deeper into the pool of his love for you.

That unskilled tailoring had resulted in sleeves that were uneven, but no longer swallowed your hands up. You wear that stupid sweatshirt around the house as a dress constantly, hair a mess atop your head in a bun, legs bare, and he doubts he could love it more if he tried.

You don’t know a thing about his little love affair with this particular article of clothing. Sometimes he says nothing at all when words threaten to fail, which is so very often the case between his heart and the tiny things that make you, you.

He finds you there, biding your time until he slips back into your orbit…waiting for his return with hopeful eyes glittering with love. That love softens his resolve and he feels the annoyance that has tried his patience all day, lessening.

“Hi.” You sound quiet, your one-worded greeting weighed down with contrition.

“Hi.” He takes his time leaning his guitar case against the door jamb, meticulous in its placement to be sure it won’t shift and hit the floor, and then adds a somber, “Something smells good.” as he pulls off his water sodden boots.

“I made stew.” You’re avoiding his eyes now that you can feel his energy. “Your favorite.”

“S’good weather for it.” He nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Chilly.”

You want to rise to your feet, to close the gap of space between the two of you. It feels cavernous. But, you prove rooted in place with the uncomfortability of it all. Are you actually discussing the weather? Like strangers on a train?

At last, you gather your bearings and stand, no longer a deer frozen in the headlights of his disappointment. “Jake…”

“Let’s just forget about it, alright?” He turns away, though you’ve reached for him. “Maybe it was a little much. It’s understandable that you’d be jealous, she was pretty. Beautiful, really.”

He’s said it to be cruel, to be hurtful, and the low blow has successfully landed, but you pretend it hasn’t. On with the show. He won’t remember she ever existed to begin with by the end of the night.

“But you’re still upset, baby…” you breathe the words gently and nuzzle your nose along his jawline. “You’re still angry with me, underneath it all. I can feel it.”

Relaxing his stance in your arms he huffs a tiny sigh. “I just— I don’t know why you have to—“

Your teeth graze over the delicate scar that lives just below his cheekbone. The spot that never fails to render his heart soft and his cock hard. “Why I have to what, Jake? Misbehave?”

A smoky ‘fuck’ slips of his lips when your fingers curl into the waist of his pants, tugging the linen with just enough force to remind him of where your fingers are.

“You should make me behave.” You kiss your way along until you find his mouth, licking into it with a quiet and obscene hum.

“I was mouthy and so mean,” your palm slides across his warm, soft stomach, fingers inching further downward just to hear the breath in his lungs catch. “and you’re always so good to me, Jake. So sweet. I don’t deserve it.”

Deeply perturbed though he may be with you, his love runs deeper still, “you do deserve it, sweetheart. Even when you’re drunk and terrible, you’re still my favorite girl.”

The pad of his thumb trails across your bottom lip, string-worn callous catching the velvet skin that scrubs and masks keep silken. “Careful with my lips, Jakey,” You lightly scratch against the sparse, downy hair that trails his navel. “I work so hard to keep them soft for your pretty cock.”

His hand runs up the nape of your neck and, with his fingers wrapped around the base of your bun, he snaps your head back with a deft flick of his wrist. The searing sting makes you hiss through your teeth and he calls back with a groan through his own clenched bite. “I didn’t ask for your smart mouth. You’re in trouble and I think a bit of respect would be a wise decision on your part, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” You arch forward, longing to press yourself against the sturdy warmth of his body.

Rather than allow it, he loosens his hold on you and steps back, studying your flushed face as though he’s never laid eyes on you before. As though he’s heard tell of what you’re capable of, and is deciding whether or not it might be worth his time to fuck the brat out of you.

“You want to be punished?” He walks his fingers down the outside of your thigh, barely making contact with the trembling muscle you’d give anything to feel him bury his grip into. To watch him spread you open wide and claim his prize.

You nod, cock drunk on him already, though you’ve yet to see it, touch it, worship it.

He tilts his head, as if weighing the possibilities “What if I take you outside, hmm? March you to the gallows?” His touch remains far too light, too gentle. “Make you pick a switch…put you over my knee right there on the front porch, show the whole neighborhood what a nasty fucking handful you are.”

“Whatever you want, Jake.” And you mean it. You probably shouldn’t, but you do. God help you, you mean it.

“Call me Jake one more time and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” He warns, pressing a finger to your lips. He doesn’t want a response. Watching you play by the rules for once will do just fine for him, thank you.

In a breath, his hand is warm between your thighs, fingers toying with you, taunting, teasing, withholding. “Upstairs. Now.” His demand comes gently, but it leaves no room for discussion all the same. “Everything off. I’ll be up when I feel like it.”

~

You wait without patience, but he isn’t in the room to scold you for fidgeting this way and that, nor is he close enough to hear your tiny huffs of annoyance…

…until he is.

You never hear a sound. Not a creak on the stairs, nor footfall in the hallway…he simply appears in the doorway like a specter. An apparition, bathed in darkness and sex, sent to ruin you.

Your black phantom moves closer, eyes never landing on you, though you wait on display for him. Nipples pebbled and aching, sitting on your heels with your knees parted so that he might catch sight of his favorite place to play.

He ignores all this and instead, focuses on the soft lengths of rope you have laid out beside you at the foot of the bed.

Jake knows this rope. His thoughts skip to the white rose bushes you planted out back one sunny morning, in homage to his band. You’ve cut it from the spool you use to tie the bushes to stakes, ensuring they grow straight and strong. He will never look at those white roses again without remembering this moment.

“And what is this for, baby girl?’ He runs a length of it through his fingers thoughtfully. “Are you expecting to be tied down? Would you like that?”

“Yes.” When did your voice grow so meek? “Tie me down and punish me…any way you’d like.”

He drops the rope, entirely disinterested, “Spread your legs and touch yourself. Love on her for me. She must need it bad by now.”

You obey instantly, earning a lazy smile in reward. But as quick as that smirk appears, it vanishes, when he leans in close enough to brush your nose with his own, while you circle your clit with faint pressure, careful not to get greedy.

“I don’t need rope, sweetheart.” He hushes like a secret “You will stay where I put you. You will lie still when I say so, and you will move when I say so. You will do as you’re fucking told, or you will suffer the consequences. Are we clear?”

Leaning in, your tongue laps over his lips, desperate to taste him…he takes momentary pity on you and offers the tip of your tongue a gentle suck before straightening.

Wandering over to the dresser, he begins digging around in your top drawer, shuffling satin and lace around, searching. “I’m thinking of filling your pretty mouth up. You look so lovely with my cum dripping off your lips.”

A sound of wanton anticipation whines out of you. “You like that? You want to get down on your knees and ask forgiveness? Prove how sorry you are with a cock in your mouth?”

He’s fucking obscene, and you plan to relish every second of his condescending filth. You sigh shakily in confirmation and lick the lips he spoke of so indecently, eager to get on with it.

“Well, it sounds like you want it, so I suppose that isn’t much of a punishment at all, now is it?” At last he turns, and you drink in the beauty of his face.

“Put these on.” A scrap of fabric lands on the duvet beside you.

Fingers clasped around white silk, your eyes squint in question. “You’re asking me to get dressed? I thought we were moving in another direction here, Kiszka.”

He is across the room in a blink, grip locked around your chin. “Watch your tone, miss mouth. You’re toeing a line you don’t want to cross, I promise you.”

The brat in you shoves up her sleeves, ready to get to work. “Or what? Are you going to bend me over and spank my ass until I beg you to stop?”

The light in his eyes snuffs out, leaving only a menacing darkness that sets your pulse to racing as he slowly leans in. Lips caressing the shell of your ear, he strokes a thumb down the swell of your breast. “No, Sweetheart, I’ll bend you over and fuck your ass until you beg me to stop.”

A sigh of a gasp escapes you, fluttering his hair.

He straightens and casually pets your hair, “But we don’t need to worry about that, do we? Because you’re going to be a very good girl for me, aren’t you? You’re going to be the best girl - all for me, isn’t that right?”

Your response comes immediately, and without thought. “Yes, sir.”

“You see?” He smiles, booping your nose with the tip of his finger. An innocent, cuddly act that doesn’t match the tone of the room “My baby girl has such manners. Now,” he swats a finger at your cheek, “put your panties on.”

“Why?” You’re doing as you're told even as you question him.

With an off handed air, he answers, as if bored with your inquisitiveness. “Because I’d like to taste your cunt on them, that’s why.”

“Please?” Oh, how fucking pathetic you are - and oh, how little you care.

“Please what?” He is so quiet, so tender, as he sinks to his knees before you, you can almost trick yourself into believing he’s going to give in.

“They’re on.” You snap the elastic at your hip and fall back on the bed, nestling into the cool cloud of blankets and sheets beneath you. “Taste me on them. I want your mouth.”

He hums softly, the back of his knuckle trailing over your clit as it aches in desperation. “You’re beautiful everywhere, aren’t you? My pretty, pretty girl. Don’t you wish for a kiss, baby? Wouldn’t that feel nice? Soft and slow? Right here on this perfect clit?”

His fingers wander with just enough intent to make your hips rock as he gazes down between your thighs “Sweet and swollen. Just wants to be spoiled a little, doesn’t she?”

Nodding eagerly, you fist at the blankets, grounding yourself. “Please,”

“You want my mouth?”

Suddenly, you have it. His tongue, like warm, wet satin, laps over you through the scant material you’ve already soaked. “Like that, baby?”

He sounds so smug “is that how you want it? Or do you want it like this…” his fingers peel your panties aside to allow his tongue to wander along freely.

A muffled hum chokes it’s way out of your chest “Yes, baby, please. Don’t stop…” your hips thrust up to meet him “More...”

“Aw, sweetheart…” he taunts, landing a cruel smack against your center that makes your thighs snap together “and you were doing so well, too. Bossy gets you nowhere, little girl.”

Shoving your legs apart, the pad of his thumb circles over the dripping material that is, once again, concealing your clit. “Think you can cum like this?” He sounds so casual, as though he’s asked you for the time. “If I touched you and licked you just like this?”

As his face draws nearer, you begin to pant…breathing lust heavily into the room. “Yes! Yes! Please, Jake…”

His eyebrows raise, mockingly pondering your face as you stare down at him, silently willing him into action “But I’m not even really touching you. I’m touching your panties, that’s all. Are you really that pitiful? Needy little pussy, dripping and begging.”

“Fuck!” Your fist tangles in his hair, tugging at it urgently and without care.

He hisses at the burn of the sting - the flash of pain he has never hidden his affections for - and then there are both of his hands, wrapped around your throat carefully. Ever mindful to never hurt you in a manner unintentional. To never get carried away and leave a mark he hadn’t thought out, coaxed a tear he didn’t anticipate.

You’re left to whine under his wicked glare until, at last, his voice comes…guttural and threatening, yet still glazed in velvet, lush and rich. “Fucking behave yourself. I won’t tell you again.”

His grip tightens, locking you in the warm vice of his hands. He sees the insubordinate gleam in your eye, and he’s warning you, though he knows it will do no good. “And if I don’t?”

The second you speak, you wish you hadn’t. He isn’t the only one who can read the thoughts behind your eyes, and a poisoned malevolence is darting about in his.

“If you don’t,” he offers you a cruel tip of his brow, like he thinks the answer should be obvious. “If you don’t, I’ll make you watch her preen, pretty and sweet, with my cock down her throat.”

You ought to be ashamed for the way your body writhes and throbs at the very idea of it, but you’ll worry about that some other time.

“You’re evil,” you breathe.

He seems amused as his thumb begins to stroke over your pounding jugular, “Am I?”

“Yes.” You’ve never wanted him more.

“Well then, pretty girl…” his tongue snakes up the side of your cheek, “welcome to hell.”

~

Hours may have ticked away, or perhaps just minutes. It’s entirely plausible that time stopped its monotonous shuffle all together, and you’re now floating in limbo.

There is no way to tell. There is only Jake.

Jake, as he moves above you slowly, deliberately - tangled waves of silken chocolate gently swaying, creating a hazy curtain of his scent around you as your vision blurs.

“Harder, baby…” your words are quiet, barely a whisper, and pointless. “Please.”

“Shut up.” He hushes back as if confessing his love. “I’ll fuck you harder when I decide you deserve it.”

You shouldn’t do it. It’s manipulative, and underhanded. You do it anyway. “Did you really want her?”

You know he didn’t, you’re simply aiming to weaken his resolve. It backfires in a way you’d never expect.

“How do you know I didn’t have her?’ He taunts mercilessly, slipping his thumb in your mouth to pry it open. He speaks into it, licking and sucking at your lips and tongue between vicious words, still sliding in and out of you at a maddeningly slow clip.

“How do you know I didn’t go home with her?” He eases his thumb into your mouth for you to suckle comfortingly “Maybe, while Daniel was tucking you into bed, I was tucking my cock inside her?”

“Liar.” You choke out through a moaning clench around him.

A feral sound growls out of his lungs as you squeeze up tight. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it. You were being so mean. Maybe I wanted her because she looked at me like I hung the moon and made her little pussy all wet and messy.”

Your teeth bury themselves into his flesh, but he merely curls his thumb and pries your bite open.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” With a blissfully swift snap of his hips he fucks into you a little harder. “You don’t wanna play in the kitchen anymore now that the heat’s caught up with you?”

Your hands move to latch onto his shoulders through the shirt he has refused to remove, his pants are only unbuttoned and shoved down far enough to slip inside of you, he says it’s all you’ve earned.

Yes, your hands reach for him, but he puts a stop to it with a harsh, clipped, order. “Hands down. Now.”

Palms once again flat against the bed at your sides as you’ve been instructed, he carries on fucking you, filling the room with your desperate moans and whines, and his bullshit lies.

“I wanted to put my hand on her waist right here,” he tucks into the dipping curve just above your hip and grips tighter and tighter, tugging you closer. “Yeah, right here, just like this. Just the way you like. Right where I grab you when you’ve been a good enough girl to take it hard.”

He can feel the muted fury seize your muscles up tight while your heart begins to pound a hyper-beat of fiery madness, and he jabs at you further with a taunting grin, smoothing his palm flat up your trembling skin sweetly until the globe of your breast is cupped in his hand. “And I’d have done it, baby girl. I’d have fucked her, but I knew you’d smell her on me…perfume that wasn’t yours, the scent of her skin, of her pretty cunt…”

“Fuck you,” the blow comes out of left field, even to yourself, and lands hard upon his cheek.

He fights the recoil and nuzzles into it, body humming with electric lust. “You’re so mean, sweetheart. Do it again.”

“Please!” The sobbing need turns your plea into a prayer, fraught with the desperation he has grown completely addicted to.

It rips a carnal, raspy groan out of his chest. He is full of lies, and he knows it just as well as you do. He needs what only you can give. You’ve rendered him a man willing to do anything to get even just a taste of the way you love him.

But, Jake loves the game, as well.

His warm clutch, rough from the unforgiving metal of strings, closes around your throat once more, eyes fluttering when a moan chokes out of you.

You sound like angels sighing, but he doesn’t allow himself to be lost completely, lest you win this round.

“I said, do it again.” Teeth clenched, his demand comes with authority that leaves no room for defiance.

He steels himself to absorb the blow, but his cock twitches wildly inside you upon the cracking impact and you can’t help yourself. “You like that? You sick fuck.”

A grin, flashing and gorgeous, settles upon his beautiful lips. It steals the moment, shaping it into something new, something softer.

“You fucking love it. You want me to hit you back, I can see it in your eyes.”

You can’t hide anything from him - never could. He reads you with astonishing ease; fingertips racing deftly over the tiny blips of braille that map your thoughts. The rushing thump of your pulse spoken word poetry whispering secrets to him.

“I do.” Your confession slips off your tongue with quiet confidence. You are safe with him.

He caresses your face gingerly, adoring you with a feather-light touch you haven’t asked for, “I’d never hit you, baby. I don’t want to.”

A frown that you try to fight pulls at your lips, eliciting the softest chuckle from him, baptizing you in his love. He is your sweet Jakey again. Just that quickly. You don’t know whether to rejoice or mourn. “She pouts because I refused to mar her lovely face. Scandalously filthy, sweetheart.”

You take advantage of that pout he can’t seem to resist, “Fuck me harder now, sir. I need it, baby.” Sir and baby intermingle strangely, but something about it works.

“Yeah? You need it?” He begins moving faster, roughly jerking his hips back until only the silken tip of his cock rests inside you before driving back in, punching a cry of relief out of your lungs each time, over and over and over.

“Let me touch you…” you’re panting and struggling to speak.

“Go ahead, baby,” he sounds so gentle, but he dips down and bites into your neck viciously, releasing only to groan your praises as your fingers lace into his wild tangles “there’s my good girl, there’s my good fucking girl.”

He sweeps airy kisses over the apples of your cheeks, each in turn. “Pretty little piece of heaven, just for my cock. All snug and soft, aren’t you, sweetheart? My girl.”

Nodding in frantic agreement - you are his girl. You couldn’t be anyone else’s - you raise your head and press your forehead to his shoulder, wailing against the cotton of his shirt as you bite into it…so close you can nearly taste the grainy, sugary sweetness of your long awaited release.

“Cum for me pretty, baby.” His demands are breathing out of him tenderly now…gentle as the rain that’s still tapping at the windows. “And say my name, it sounds so beautiful on your tongue. Makes my heart hurt.”

You know what he means, sometimes there is too much love between the two of you. It batters itself against the cages of your hearts. Enormous and overwhelming, threatening to split you wide open at the seams of your very souls…it is too much, and it is never enough.

And you do; you call his name. Chanting it like the chorus of your favorite song, pressing it into the cracks in the wood, etching it into the glass with your cries, so this room, this house, never forgets the love it once held.

The house will remember him as well, the pained sounds that claw out of him wildly as he fucks you through it, and lets go, sinking into you as though he’d like to disappear inside you completely.

This is all that matters. Jake. You. Love.

You’re both breathing up at the ceiling, hands clasped between you as you hunt down some semblance of calm.

“The stew.” You remember, too tranquil to really care.

He sounds just as serene as you do, “Took it off the heat before I came up.”

You squeeze his hand in silent thanks. “We’ll go down and eat soon. I’ll heat up the bread I picked up and…”

Trailing off, you don’t finish your sentence, but he’s crossed over into half-sleep as well, so there’s no one to notice.

Some time later, you blink slowly awake, confused by the darkness in the room. He stumbles his way back to consciousness soon after, and the night settles in with you curled in his lap on the back porch, sharing a bowl of stew - the rain, now nothing more than mist, dancing on the grass.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

VI. do you trust me?

parts: previously / next plot: things are getting messy. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, descriptions of surgery, angsty mcangsty pants as always, mentions of the christian God and religious practices, maybe you and bruce wouldn't have to keep so many secrets if you just made out a lil bit, :). words: 6.2k.

a/n: edit as of 2/11/24: replaced mistaken use of "officer" with "detective".

Your needle passes through skin to the beat of a steady metronome. It's made up of muscle memory, glazing your mind as your hands thread the tear together. With each pass, you're unblinking. There are three others in the room with you but they might as well be shadows, faceless and without sound, coloring your peripheral but otherwise of no concern.

The steady metronome beats on well into your final pull of the thread, well into your dismissal of the shadows, well into the comforts of your office where your brain falls out of rhythm. It's been 48 hours and you haven't found a clue.

You'd think after 17 years that you'd have forgotten his name, but you remember Detective Russo. About 5'9, a kinky black beard, and bushy eyebrows that took up good real estate on his forehead. You remembered sizing up every one of those officers, but he was the one you'd memorized. He was the one that promised you that no one would ever know you were there that night. And now Bruce knows.

He was a detective of little significance outside of that, as far as your research was concerned. He'd served a whopping total of 20 years on the force before retiring seven years ago, but without any social media presence or nearby family to speak of, you couldn't find him. Not an old address, not a phone number, nothing. It was like he'd wiped himself clean the minute he retired. Which meant you'd have to resort to plan B.

Your boss intercepts you before you can even get to the stairs, though. Rudy Moretti rarely had good timing, after all, "Hey! Early lunch?"

You think about lying for all of two seconds, "No. Headed to the police station."

Your boss' eyebrows shoot up. "Whoa, everything okay? Are one of those guys from the other night bothering you? I can come with you if you need-"

"No, no. Nothing like that. It's something personal."

Rudy shifts awkwardly, "Oh. Well, be safe. And let me know if anything like that pops up." You nod, attempting to escape, but his hand finds your elbow and stops you, "By the way... how's everything with Mr. Wayne?"

You should've expected a question like that by now. You had been officially working for him long enough to warrant it, but you still wince. "Fine." When your boss blinks at you, expecting more, you have to bite your tongue to keep from swearing, "I actually... was invited to a celebration for the Mayor. Courtesy of Mr. Wayne. She was interested in the hospital's new wing. We had a good conversation."

Like a child on Christmas morning, your boss lights up at the good news. "Oh, that's good! That's good. Did she mention wanting to come down for a tour?"

"What happened to you should have never happened in the first place. I'm glad you were able to make it out alive."

Her hand on yours should've been a comfort, and to some extent it was, but even the softness of her palm couldn't have steadied your trembling. She had squeezed tighter when she felt it, perhaps thinking you traumatized for having to recall that night. Unaware of where you'd been. Unaware of the burning need to escape before you spilled your guts on the Persian rug.

"It happens all the time," a voice came from your right, a drunken councilman with his suit jacket unbuttoned, "and it'll keep happening so long as that thug's still running the streets."

"Thug?" The mayor dipped her chin.

"With all due respect, Bella, what's your plan to put Batman in Arkham for good?"

You watched the mayor's back straighten, her eyes narrow. It was the one thing everyone was itching to talk about, and the one thing everyone was too afraid to bring up first.

You felt Bruce's knee bump yours and stiffened.

"You think he ought to be imprisoned?" The mayor asks.

"I think he ought to be drawn and quartered! It's people like him that make this city a far cry from its glory days. Inviting violence, chaos. He's single-handedly responsible for that- that homicidal freak that nearly killed you, mayor. And he's responsible for everything else this city's suffered since he started infecting it. He's a menace. It'll be a cold day in hell before this city's safe with him still on the streets."

It sickened you to hear. People who'd done nothing since being elected calling for the arrest of the one person who's made any real change in this city.

The mayor doesn't immediately speak up and you think she's chewing on his words, preparing to respond with a bit more bite. Her pause is what prompts you to speak first, "If it wasn't for the Batman, I might be dead. He's done more good for this city than bad..." you watch the councilman turn his focus to you, looking baffled as to why you were butting in, as if you hadn't just finished recounting your brush with death moments ago, "...with all due respect, Councilman Roberts."

The councilman sobers up at the heavy gaze you level on him, "Oh, no. Of course. Of course! It's good that he was there. It would've been a- been a real tragedy to lose one of Gotham's good, fine citizens. I'm just saying that... maybe these things wouldn't be happening if he wasn't there to... encourage it."

"You think he's encouraging it?" The mayor chimes in, taking a sip from her glass. Whatever she was going to say before has been shelved for the time being, it seems.

The councilman laughs. You watch him twist so that he's facing you and the mayor, holding his glass to her like a gavel for judgement, "He's a glorified criminal! He's no better than that clown we put away years ago."

"He put away, councilman. I believe you meant to say he," Bruce's first words since he'd introduced you to Bella give you a shiver. With his one arm hanging off the back of the couch, he leans in from beside you and smiles that TV smile again, "Unless you've got something you’d like to share with the class?"

Snickers break out amongst the group. You can feel Bruce's breath on your shoulder for only a passing moment, and then he's falling back into the couch and taking a swig of his wine.

The councilman bristles, clearly not a fan of being laughed at. Or being faced with the truth, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just a silly theory of mine. It's just... it would make sense for a vigilante to hide his identity by publicly denouncing himself, especially if he’s in the public eye already. I mean, it would make most people cross you off their list but... you're making me think twice about you."

You chance a glance at Bruce's face. He isn't drunk. His eyes hold a steady gaze with the councilman encroaching on your space to meet it, and even with the looseness of his body, you can tell he's calculating. His arm behind your head feels drawn tight. You can sense it in its weight near your head. He's flashing his teeth and keeping his voice light, but he's not defenseless. He's leveraging.

Your heart hammers again at what lie beneath this tower.

The councilman flushes. Sinks back into his seat, grumbling, but all eyes on him has him forcing a grin, "You're funny, Wayne. Unfortunately for your theory, I have a real job. Making real change in this city. Something Batman wouldn't understand."

That does something to you, "Maybe I'm biased, but... I've seen what he's done for this city, sir. And in the wake of last year, I think we can all agree that... well, anyone can say they're making change. Even if they're just making money instead. Perhaps it feels like Batman is doing more because we actually know what he's doing."

Bruce's leg bumps yours again. Accidentally.

You watch the councilman's Adam's apple bob, "No offense, and I'm sure you feel offended on behalf of the man that saved you, but there are laws that make sure people like me and Ms. Reál don't cross the line. What say you, when your hero takes things too far one day, hm? Who're you going to call when the Batman beats someone's brains in because people like you justify it? Or is it only okay because at least he stopped you from getting a bullet to the head?"

You're about to spew the first thing that comes to mind, probably full of anger and vitriol and a little of whatever you had to drink earlier, when you feel a hand take hold of your inner wrist. Bruce's grip is firm, but it doesn't hurt you. It's enough to stop whatever might come out of your mouth. When you look him in the eye, he's not smiling anymore.

You stare at each other like that for a few moments, not a word shared but a million thought. It was almost like he knew what you were going to say, knew how it might've made you look, made you both look. Had imagined it coming out of his own mouth too, maybe.

Instead, he releases you and turns to the councilman, "Okay, enough. We all feel pretty spirited about the topic." When the councilman scoffs, Bruce nods to you, "I think you both make good points. He's done good. He saved my doctor, of whom I never would've had the pleasure of working with otherwise. But I have to agree with you, councilman: he operates outside of the law and that is cause for concern. I'm sure these are all important issues that our mayor is working tirelessly to address, isn't that right, Mayor?"

Mayor Reál has her leg crossed over the other, eyes cutting from the councilman's to Bruce's to yours. Eventually, she smiles and raises her glass, "Indeed. This conversation was enlightening. Much to think about."

"I'm gonna get another drink." Your announcement is followed by the most graceful exit you can muster, even though your chest is throbbing with adrenaline and you can feel Bruce following you.

You don't stop until you reach the bar and have another glass in hand, doing your best to ignore his presence as he looms beside you. He allows you a full three sips before he starts talking, "Are you okay?"

The diplomat from before is long gone. He's melted, keeping his back to the group you'd just escaped and giving you such wet puppy dog eyes that it makes you want to hurl again. How could he look you in the eye?

Your hand shakes around the stem of your glass, "You're different around them."

His eyes fall to the bar top, "I am?"

"Smiling, friendly, funny..."

He cuts his eyes back to you, smiling a little, "I'm not usually funny?"

"You pretend to be laid-back around them, and I get why. But you don't do that with me. You act like I know some big secret about you and I'm this close to spilling it," you pinch your fingers together in front of his face, "or maybe you know some big secret about me."

You watch his face for any sign of recognition, but you're disappointed to find there is none. No reaction other than a sigh. "I pretend around them because I don't trust them."

"And you trust me? Even though we barely know each other?"

Uncharacteristically, Bruce tilts so close toward you that you bend back to keep some semblance of space between you, "You're asking if I trust the person I pay to keep me alive over... Councilman Roberts." He pronounces the last two words with such incredulity, then laughs right after. You note his breath smells sweet, but nothing like the wine. Had it been wine he'd been drinking? One look at his glass and you'd think so. Two looks, though...

He was stone cold sober.

You swallow, staring up into his face. Bruce doesn't back away. Questions begin to form on your tongue... destructive ones.

How do you know? How did you find out? What are you going to do about it?

Your stomach drops as you think, surely, there's quite a bit he can do about it. If he wanted to. If you made the wrong move.

His eyes narrow on you, "You look sick. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'd like to go home."

Bruce blinks, shrinks in on himself a bit, "Okay."

"I... I drove."

Bruce nods, holds a hand up to one of the suited men near the edge of the room, and turns to you, "My driver. He'll take you home."

"My... my car. I have work in the morning." You mumble pathetically.

Bruce says something to the driver when he gets close. Another man is summoned, appearing by your side in an instant. This one holds out his hand to you and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. You fish your keys out and drop them in his waiting palm.

It's incredibly awkward as Bruce walks you out. You think he'll stop at the front door, or the elevator, or even the lobby, but he walks you all the way to the back door of his ride and—God—even holds it open for you.

You settle in to the nice seats, blinking up at him through eyes you fight to keep dry. You wonder if Bruce would forgive you for throwing up in his car instead. "If it's any consolation," he begins, leaning on the roof of the car. You can still hear the bustle of Gotham all around you, but when he looks at you... there might as well be only him and you, "I agree with you. Councilman Roberts is a jackass."

Your boss is looking at you, expectantly. Still waiting.

"I'm sure she's thinking about it." Is your curt reply. "Is that it? I really gotta go."

Your boss deflates, but otherwise doesn't keep you.

"How can I help you?"

The cop behind the desk seems nice enough. He doesn't smile at you but his tone is pleasant, unhurried. It helps calm your nerves. "Hi. I'm looking for someone. A detective who used to work here."

"You remember their name?"

"Detective Joey Russo," you offer, watching the cop begin to type into his computer, "he retired seven years ago. I wanted to know if you could get me in touch with him. A number or a... address."

"Ah, Russo. I remember him. I'm sorry, may I ask who you are?" You give your name and the cop frowns. "You got a badge? Unless you're with the state, I can't give you anything."

You'd worried as much, "He worked a case of mine 17 years ago. Something new's popped up and I just wanted to talk to him about it."

"If it's about a case we covered, you'd have to talk to one of us about it unless he's directly involved, and even then it'd be a process." He must notice how your face falls because his own softens, "I'm real sorry. I can get you in with someone else."

You know you shouldn't be upset. After all, he was only doing his job. If they gave out personal information to every person who walked in off the street, you imagined they'd have a bigger problem with domestic terrorism than they already do.

It doesn't make it any less debilitating. Bruce Wayne had found him. That was the only way he could've gotten his hands on your file, surely. And Bruce Wayne had money, more than enough to get an ex-cop to talk.

You're thanking the man and trying not to sound as distressed as you feel when you turn and catch new eyes.

You'd only seen Batman at night, tucked into the corners of shadow of your apartment, but here he was in broad daylight—midday—standing next to a plainclothes cop who had yet to realize the vigilante was no longer listening to him. You're so relieved to see him that you actually break out into a smile.

Batman doesn't return it. Without acknowledging his partner, he stomps across the room to you, cutting off your greeting with a rushed, "Did something happen?"

You blink, unable to answer when the cop from before sidles up next to the two of you. He's got a warm, friendly look to him, even if his eyes are narrowed at the pair of you with skepticism, "You two know each other?" He asks. When Batman refuses to tear his eyes from you, the cop addresses you directly, reluctant to extend his hand without confirmation that you were friend, not foe, "Detective James Gordon. And you are?" You give your name and his eyes light up. "Hey. I know you, don't I?"

"The hostage at Gotham General," Bruce answers for him, not even bothering to glance at the detective, "they were on the news."

"You three mind moving somewhere else? The freak's making people uncomfortable." The kind cop from before has dropped all pretense now, glaring at the vigilante who, still, pays no one but you mind.

Gordon grumbles and motions for you both to follow him down a long hallway out of sight.

You struggle to keep up when the detective starts walking, much faster than he looked, and so you all but yelp when the Bat places a hand on your lower back and guides you in front of him.

A turn or two later, you empty out beside a window at the end of another long hallway, far enough away from prying eyes that the detective seems to find it sufficient.

"What are you doing here?" Batman asks immediately.

"I was looking for someone but, actually, now that you're here, I was wondering if I could talk to you." You look over at Gordon, "If you're not busy."

The detective grunts but holds his hands up in surrender, slinking down the hall out of earshot, "I'm gonna go smoke, but I need him back in ten."

When he's far enough away, Batman speaks, voice at a much lower volume than before, "What's wrong?"

"I'm looking for a cop. I need to get in touch with him but he retired and they won't tell me where I can find him."

The Bat's head tilts to the side. You can tell the gears in his brain are turning, "Who?"

"Detective Joey Russo." The Bat freezes. "Do you know him?"

He doesn't answer that, something you take note of with a funny feeling in your chest, "Why are you looking for him?"

It's your turn not to answer. You should've known he wouldn't just tell you without good reason, but your throat closes up when you think about how you'll explain it. It wasn't that you didn't trust him... but... "It's personal. Please."

"That's not enough."

"I know... I know. And I wouldn't be asking this of you if it wasn't important-"

"Then tell me why."

"I can't. But it is important. To me. I promise, it's for good reason."

"A good reason that you can't tell me? That's not enough. That's not how I work. God forbid someone finds out I gave you classified information."

"If I told you why I needed it—if I told anyone why I needed it—it would defeat the whole purpose!"

"That doesn't make you sound any more convincing."

"Batman, please," and your voice breaks as you step that much closer to him, your eyes rimming with tears you're terrified to shed, "I have never asked you for anything, have I? Not for money or your identity or anything. I am asking you for this one thing because I have no one else. You... are the only person who can help me. Please."

You see his face fall, so clear it feels like you can see right through him. Past the cowl and the facades and right into his very being. For a moment, you're just seeing the person and not the idea of him. You see your fears reflected back at you in his eyes, a deep understanding there that gives you some hope.

He draws a deep, heavy breath, and- "I'm sorry."

You're too stunned to watch him walk away.

Judith's apartment has a lack of technology and an abundance of crucifixes. The first time you'd seen it, you'd thought it was overkill. Now, since you've visited enough, it was comforting in its own creepy way. A blast into the past, memories of a grandmother who was never really your grandmother.

She startles at the stove where she's just put something in the oven, "Oh! Dear, I didn't hear you come in. Is everything alright?"

You smile and kick your shoes off by the key-holder, "I knocked. You're supposed to have your hearing aid in."

She gives you a stern look, then smiles.

You can smell hibiscus tea in the air, her favorite. She'd gather handfuls of hibiscus and dry them out in the sun, and then she'd steep their petals in hot water until it turned a deep pink. The taste was always striking, tart and strong, but she'd sweeten it with honey for you and then it wouldn't be so bad.

Without asking, she waddles over to her breakfast table where you've already found your seat and pours you a steaming cup of tea. You take the honey she's brought with her and begin to stir. "You never answered my question." Judith reminds you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, "I'm just taking a break from work, is all. Do I need to be having a bad day to visit you?"

"No, I suppose not," she sighs, taking the seat across from you, "but you do look a wreck."

You grumble. You hadn't looked in the mirror. You hadn't done anything but busy yourself in hopes that it would stave off the wave of anxious tears threatening to fall. You busied yourself until your hands started shaking and people started asking questions. And now you were here.

"Yeah. I'm sure I do. Work's... been hard."

"And besides work?"

"I don't know. I don't really have a life outside of work anymore."

Judith frowns, "You should really make some friends, dear."

That gets you to laugh. "I have friends! I have you. Are you not my friend?"

You could see the question already brewing, the narrow of her eyes as she watched you begin to fidget, "And that demon? Is he still hanging around you?"

You cast your gaze to the tabletop, "...I don't think we'll be seeing him around anymore."

"Oh?" You don't miss the hope in Judith's voice, "Did the police finally arrest him?"

"No. I think I may have... scared him off."

She doesn't respond for a while, even though you can tell from the shift in the air that she's rather pleased with this development. It makes you feel sicker to the stomach. "It might be for the best, dear," you can tell that she's being careful, minding your upset, "he's dangerous. It's best you stick to the light for now." When you don't respond, her leathery hand clasps over yours and forces you to look her in the eye, "Come with me to service this week. I've been telling everyone about you."

You snort, "About me and the demon I'm friends with?"

Judith shakes her head furiously, as if the accusation that she might have spilled your secret greatly insulted her, "They have been praying for you ever since the night at the hospital. They'd really like to see you in person one of these days. I never shut up about how proud I am of you."

Even through the despair, you feel the warmth of Judith's love. It makes you hold her hand back, gripping so tightly that you fear she may be too fragile to handle it. She doesn't seem to mind.

You two share the rest of your tea in relative silence, taking breaks to comment on the neighbors or the news or the weather (which never really changes outside of summer, but you always have something to say with her).

After a refill or two, you feel the dread begin to creep in.

"Dear, come here," Judith calls as you button up your coat at the door, "bow your head."

You frown but do as you're told. In a blink, you feel her finger swipe across your forehead in a quick motion. The familiar scent of cinnamon and myrrh hit your senses right after. You reach up to touch it but Judith captures your hand in her own. In her other is a small vial, unmarked, filled halfway with oil. "To protect you," she says, nodding gravely, "God will watch over you. You are blessed."

You want to tell her that the anointing does nothing for the stones gathering in your stomach, that the moment you walk out of this door you will be hit with a wave so sudden that you will surely drown. But you'd be lying if you said this little woman with her God and prayers didn't make you feel, even for a fraction of a second, safe. You kiss her cheek goodbye.

It's desperate, you know that. You spend the whole evening hating yourself as you pace the hardwood floors, thumbing over buttons and weighing the pros and cons.

"For emergencies only", but this was an emergency to you. It felt like one, the way it gnawed at your very center demanding blood. Every minute dreading that you'd have to see him again and pretend like you had no idea that he knew that you... You'd also spent part of the evening bent over the toilet.

At some point, you throw yourself onto your fire escape for fresh air and nearly throw the phone across the way just to breathe.

You know you've screwed up. The tentative threads of your friendship with the Bat had surely been severed. What had gotten into you, asking him for such a bold favor without anything to offer in return? You'd already given him your hands and your mind, the two things that you'd worked so hard to hone, and you would never think of taking them away.

But maybe that would be inevitable. Maybe you'd lose your license if this got out. And it wouldn't just be you carrying that burden. Every single one of you would be dug up and exposed to the world, and with Bruce Wayne involved, you couldn't imagine the lawsuits. You just couldn't. They could put you under the prison with his kind of money.

And the cops didn't even know everything.

You gasp, sob, and wrench yourself from the railing. You clench the phone tight.

Even if you could get to Russo, and even if he admitted that he gave you up, what good would it do? Bruce had already seen it. He probably had a contact at the DA's office on speed dial. You'd seen what money could do to men like him in this city. What it made men like him do to people like you. The echoes of the accusations against his father a year ago still rang in the wind, and his efforts to make up for it all would never truly make that go away. A criminal record was just as much currency as anything else. He would undeniably own you.

Somewhere between your panicking thoughts, you hear the grates of the fire escape tremor from above. You whip your head up and see a dark shape hovering a floor up. Swiftly, it descends the stairs until your eyes adjust. Your heart catches in your throat as you choke out his name.

The strangled noise causes him to pause when he turns to you. You clear your throat, "Are you hurt?" Batman's head tilts to the side. His eyes flicker from the phone in your hand and back to you. "I'm... I wanted to see you."

His shoulders stiffen. He almost looks like he didn't mean to come. A sliver of you had actually hoped he'd changed his mind, too. "I know it wasn't fair of me to ask something like that of you with no explanation. And I'm sorry. I want you to know that."

He waits, head still tilted.

You bite your tongue, tasting the blood beginning to pool on the surface.

You could tell him. Lay it all bare. And he could drop you at the GCPD without another word.

Or he could accept you. See the you that stands before him now, who had been years clean and had saved his life on your living room floor and confessed that he was why you were a better person now.

That's what friends did. Were you and the Batman friends?

Were you and Batman... anything?

"I wasn't always like this," your head throbs as you force yourself to keep talking, clenching the railing behind you with one hand, "I'm sure it's no surprise to you that I didn't just waltz through life completely innocent for thirty-something years, given where I come from. I wasn't a very good person when I was younger... and I did things I'm not proud of. And, by the grace of a very good man, a very small group of people know the true extent of that.

"But recently, I found out that someone who shouldn't know... does. And they could ruin my life if they used it against me. So I need to talk to Russo, because I need to know if he broke his promise, and then... God knows what else. I don't know. I haven't thought any further than that."

Something substantial but unclear, and if Batman were to go digging officially and find out the rest, at least you'd know Russo was the snitch.

But your heart still clenches in your chest. It feels like you are all made up of open wounds and they're all gushing blood as he watches, saying nothing. If you had really told him the truth, you imagined it would feel akin to spontaneous combustion. God, would you even be able to utter the words? It'd been so long since you'd last said-

Batman takes a slow step toward you, and the open wounds seal up at once. You are frozen.

Another, and another, until you are caged there against the railing, awaiting his verdict. Judge, jury, and... "And if he didn't? If it wasn't him that sold you out?"

You'd briefly considered that. Your friends, who were really more ghosts now than friends, had no reason to expose themselves. They'd gotten off just as easily as you did. Most of them were living lives on the other side of the country now, far, far removed from the history you shared together. Only you remained.

And who would even think to go looking into them? Outside of your history together, now sealed up and locked away, no one would look for them unless they knew what happened already.

Which only left one other option. "Then someone did—someone very close to Bruce Wayne, and there's nothing I can fucking do about it."

Batman stares at you for a while. You don't have a clue what he's looking for. "If I take you to Russo," you gasp, and he hurries his words out before you can say anything else, "it'll be the last time anything like this ever happens again. We go, we ask, and that's it."

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you."

"And I wasn't lying to you."

"What?"

"About Wayne. When you asked me if he was corrupt." You watch his eyes waver on you, eventually falling to the grates beneath your feet, and you're dumbstruck by the shift in his tone. "I never lied to you."

"I... I didn't think you had." He looks at you again. "But there are things that maybe we don't know about him," and as you speak, you place a hand on his arm, feeling it go rigid even beneath the suit, "I mean, he's a Wayne. They're older than this city. And you've seen firsthand the kind of reach people with that kind of money have. He can smile and wave and support as many good causes as he wants, but that could all be smoke and mirrors."

"You really don't trust him, do you?"

You sigh. You could almost hear Emily asking the same thing. But Emily would be smiling, and Batman is grave. Almost... disappointed. Your frown strengthens, "He's got a lot of secrets."

"So do I."

"Yeah, but you also saved my life," you chuckle, "if Wayne pushes me out of the way of a moving car, I might reconsider my stance on him."

The Bat squints at you. To your relief, you notice a bit of mirth in his voice, "No. You wouldn't."

"Listen, I am really grateful that you're doing this for me. And I wanted to say that after today, the thought of scaring you away scared me. And I would really, really like it if you could trust me. I don't want you to think that I'm taking this for granted. I'm not asking for you to take off your mask or bare your soul or anything. I just want you to know that-"

"I gave you this," the hand holding your burner is scooped up in his, held between the two of you, "because I trust you. I keep coming back because... I like... this. It's different. And I don't trust easily. If you believe me on anything, believe me on that."

A bit of your dread is chased away, and your hero is standing in the wake. Bruce Wayne is far away from this moment. He can't stain it. You won't let him. "You wanna come in for coffee?"

At that exact moment, your doorbell rings.

You see Batman jolt backwards and reflexively reach for him, using what strength you have to keep him from escaping. He watches you, wide-eyed, as you cling to his side, "Wait, wait. I wasn't expecting anybody. I'll send them off. It'll be quick."

He turns his head to the door. "You weren't expecting anyone?"

You shake your head. He shucks away your grip as he climbs through the window and takes a few, long strides to the door. He has to bend to look through your peephole, and you rush to catch up to him. After a long moment, he peers at you from the corner of his eye, "It's an old lady."

Judith. The doorbell rings again. "My neighbor. She's harmless, I'll handle it."

You expect him to walk off, find somewhere else to hide from sight, but he backs up behind the door and waits, nodding to you. Well, he was out of sight.

The door opens. The concerned look on Judith's face melts as soon as she sees you there, and holds out a pan wrapped in tinfoil, "Oh, there you are, dear. I made too much casserole so I came to give you the rest. Just in case you haven't had dinner yet."

You beam at her, taking the dish out of her hands, "Thanks, Judith. That's really sweet of you."

She returns a modest smile, but it falls away a second later. You follow her gaze past your shoulder and into the living room where- shit. "It's winter." Her brows furrow, "You'll catch cold if you keep your window open all night."

"Right! I was just... looking out over the city. Taking a breather. You caught me in the middle of it."

She presses the back of her hand to your arm and you note the very stark difference in her body temperature to yours. She frowns hard, stepping closer to you in order to whisper, "Has that demon come to see you again?"

You can't see him from where you're holding the door open, though it's your instinct to glance, but you feel yourself warming up pretty quickly, "He's not a demon, Judith."

No matter how often you repeat it, it goes in one hearing aid and out the other, "Then why does he have horns-"

"Judith, I'm fine, I swear. Even if... he did come visit, I would be fine. He wouldn't hurt me. As I've told you before."

She stares at your window, looking for little goblins with pointed tails and pitchforks no doubt. But as the curtains blow this way and that and no shadows make themselves clear, she is forced to take your word for it. "Alright," she relents, and you try not to visibly deflate, "enjoy the casserole, dear. Keep the window shut."

You watch her waddle all the way down the hallway, smile every time she glances back at you, and wait until you can no longer hear her kitten heels click-clack-clicking on the stairway down. You immediately shut the door and drop your head against it with a dull thud.

A few moments pass. You can feel him still next to you. Even worse, you can feel him trying not to laugh. "She thinks I'm a demon?"

You stand up and shove the casserole into his hands, only a little taken aback by the smile on his face when you do, "You're going to eat this casserole and then you're gonna tell that woman you're a God-fearing man and it tasted fucking delicious."

a/n: there's a scene I'm really excited to write for next chapter if it's gonna go the way I plan for it to go :)

[torisabitgay]

Stoned (Doctor Edition)

TWs: Use of weed

You finally attend a medical conference with Amelia. Little do you know that one muffin later, you will wreak absolute havoc during a presentation.

(F/F, Amelia Shepherd x femreader, they are together but it’s not stated, straight up comedy, 2K words)

You and Amelia were at a medical conference in New York. You hadn’t attended many of these (thanks to your short attention span) but you didn’t want Amelia to leave you for a weekend so you begrudgingly decided to tag along.

There was a presentation on new and improved diagnostic techniques that you were both going to attend. You sipped your coffee, sat at a table in the massive lounging area of the building. Amelia sat next to you, sipping her coffee and finishing up her sandwich. Your stomach rumbled in response and you huffed quietly. Amused, Amelia looked up, “I did ask if you wanted to eat something.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of coffee hoping the bitter taste would quench your appetite. “I wasn’t hungry before.”

Almost on cue, a friendly looking man approached with a decorated box. Your curiosity was instantly piqued and you turned to him.

“Muffin?” He offered.

Amelia gave you a bit of a cautious look. Now, you were smart. You were a surgeon, god damn it. So what possessed you to take a muffin from a stranger, you’ll never know. Perhaps it was the hunger. Perhaps it was the need for adventure. Whatever it was, it ended with a smile and a nod. “Thank you.” Graciously, you took one and he smiled innocently enough and walked off.

Amelia looked at you, concerned. “You aren’t about to eat that, are you?”

Oh but the way the chocolate muffin glistened in the light, you could see chunks of dark, white, and milk chocolate baked into the batter. Pressing the muffin, you could tell the texture was perfectly fudgey and smooth.

You were salivating like a dog.

“[First Name], would you have taken that muffin if he was balding, overweight, with missing teeth?” Amelia said, looking at you like at a person about to jump off a bridge.

She had a point. Pretty privilege in society was a very real thing. But the man didn’t have bad VIBES, and this was a conference for doctors only, so he had to be a doctor. So according to the Hippocratic oath, he wasn’t allowed to do harm.

You shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Oh boy.

I’ll hand it to you, the muffin was delicious. And under different circumstances, it might’ve been a fun adventure. Not today though. Oh god, not today.

You threw away your empty coffee cup, before you and Amelia made your way into the presentation hall. It was a massive hall. With a lot of seats. And a lot of people. You could not imagine being the host. You and Amelia managed to find some seats in the middle of the hall, sat side by side. You still had some time before the presentation actually began, so you figured you’d get comfortable and make light conversation. “So how long is this thing anyway?”

She shrugged, as she scrolled through her phone. “Oh like 4 hours, not too bad.”

Your eyes widened in horror, shock, dread, maybe even fear. Four hours? Of sitting still? And listening? Oh. God. “You’re kidding right?”

“Yes, I’m kidding, idiot. It’s like 2 hours tops.” She rolled her eyes and looked over at you with an affectionate and playful smirk.

You never felt such relief. “Oh thank god. I would’ve actually died.”

She chuckled, and the lights dimmed to signify the start of the presentation. She whispered over to you one last time. “You’ll be fine, it’ll be interesting, just watch.”

And watch you did.

The host began talking about current diagnostic procedures and tests, sharing his take on why some of them suck and how they could be improved. Then about half an hour in, he started introducing cool new techniques that he and other doctors and researches had developed.

You gasped in fascination.

You gasped. In fascination.

You. Gasped.

A lot of people started to look around at who on earth just gasped in pure delight in the middle of a presentation. People around you turned to look at you. Amelia included. She had a look of horror mixed with a slight tinge of concern.

“Sorry.” You mouthed to the people around you, and sunk back into your seat, slumping down in a weak attempt to hide.

Okay. Weird. But whatever. Everyone moved on. Well, nearly.

Amelia leaned in to you and whispered. “What the hell was that?”

You looked over to her and shrugged. Honestly, you had no idea what that was. You were just so captivated by the talk and reacted on instinct. Maybe. God, your head felt fuzzy. Has it always felt this fuzzy? Why did the air feel fuzzy? You shook your head, trying to shake off the fuzziness. It only made it worse.

Amelia leaned back, eyeing you for a couple of moments before her gaze returned to the presentation.

So did yours. Except, focusing on the presentation was pretty difficult when your mouth felt… strangely empty. Like really empty. Like a black hole sort of emptiness. Are black holes empty? Black holes are cool. Maybe you’re in a black hole. What? What’s happening? You shook your head again and sipped your coffee.

Amelia’s head pretty much darted in your direction. You looked back over at her, a slightly fearful look on your face. Did you drink too loud? No. Surely not. You barely drank it.

“Whose coffee is that?” Amelia whispered as she pointed to the cup.

You looked down at your coffee cup.

…

“That’s not your coffee. You threw your coffee out. Whose coffee are you drinking?” Amelia whispered again.

You looked back over to her, your mouth slightly open with a confused and slightly dazed expression on your face. It took you a few moments before you replied in a whisper. “What coffee?”

Amelia’s eyebrows knitted in bewilderment, eyes widening a little. She pointed to your coffee cup. “THAT.”

You looked down at your coffee cup. What? Since when did you have a coffee cup? You didn’t even remember drinking it.

“[First Name], what the hell is going on with you?” Amelia whispered again, slightly sharper.

You. Had. No. Idea.

You looked back up at her. You should say something right? You haven’t spoken in a while. “Nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘yeah right’, before shaking her head, and looking back to the presentation, glancing over at you every so often to make sure you weren’t having a stroke or something.

You leaned back in your seat again and suddenly felt a coffee cup in your hand. What? Whose coffee was this? You looked over to the guy sat next to you and whispered. “Hey. Hey. Sorry.” He looked apprehensive. “Hi, is this your coffee?” He nodded hesitantly. “Okay, one sec.” You took another sip of the coffee to fill the void in your mouth, before holding it out to him. He politely declined and pushed the cup away. What? Why? “You don’t want it?” He shook his head. “Oh okay.” You sat back.

Amelia watched the entire exchange with a hand pressed to her face in disappointment. You noticed her expression and decided to try focus on the movie playing.

After a couple of minutes of concentration, you whispered to Amelia. “This is a really good movie.”

Her concern grew. She stared at you. “Movie? What movie? We’re… watching a presentation.” She sat up a little, body angled towards you.

A presentation? Okay that made more sense. You wondered why the movie was so 3D. You nodded. “Right, right, yeah. Presentation.”

Oh but she wasn’t letting it go so easily. Something was wrong. You were acting delusional. “[First Name], you’re scaring me.” Amelia spoke, her whisper firm.

“But this isn’t a horror movie.” You turned your attention to her.

If her eyes widened even more, you’re sure her eyelids would snap. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?” She whispered yelled.

You furrowed your brows. “Who?”

“You.” She said, starting to get frustrated.

“You?”

“No, YOU.”

“Me.”

“Yes, you.”

“… what?” At that response, she leaned back in her chair with a defeated thump. A part of her was convinced you were being annoying on purpose, while another part was concerned that something deeper was going on. “Sorry, [First Name].” You whispered to her.

She picked up her head again and looked at you. “Huh? Did you just call me [First Name]?”

“…”

Another part of her was starting to get concerned that SHE was the one having a stroke or something. “You’re [First Name]. I’m Amelia.”

You nodded. “Nice to meet you, I’m Amelia.”

Amelia very nearly threw her hands up in frustration. “NO. I’M Amelia. You’re not Amelia!”

Your eyes widened and you whispered back. “WHAT?”

“[First Name], I SWEAR TO GOD.” She raised her voice. People turned around again.

Amelia’s face instantly flushed and her gaze flicked to the ground. People whispered and gave her disapproving looks but eventually everyone turned back around. You looked apologetically over to Amelia, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips. She looked up slowly. If looks could kill… it wouldn’t look great for you.

And somehow, this made you giggle more.

“[First Name].”

You were giggling as quietly as possible, with small hiccups of breath in between silent chuckles.

She shook her head and clenched her jaw, looking back at the presentation. Only an hour in, and you were already driving her insane.

You managed to collect yourself. Mostly. Maybe a sip of coffee would help you calm down?

Yeah, no.

The second your mouth filled with coffee, it was already out. All over you. All over the poor woman in front. And you were giggling uncontrollably again. This was officially the worst day of Amelia’s life (and she’s had A LOT of bad days). She stared in absolute horror. Disbelief. Outrage.

The woman in front of you turned to look at what was going on. She was not happy. Thank god she wore a black sweater to the conference. You, however, weren’t as lucky. Your fancy, new light-coloured outfit was covered in coffee.

And Amelia couldn’t take it anymore. She apologised profusely on your behalf to the woman in front, and then grabbed your arm harshly, but not painfully. Everyone stared as the two of you made your way out of the presentation hall, Amelia looking at the ground in shame as you giggled behind.

Woah, standing up made the fuzziness a lot worse. You couldn’t walk actually. You felt like you were swimming instead. And, oops…

Your leg got caught on one of the chairs and you went flying into some poor elderly man. Amelia wanted to die right then and there. She pulled you off of him, as you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes, and she dragged you out of that hall as if her life depended on it.

Once the two of you were out in the hallway, she stared at you in… concern? Anger? Fear?

“[First Name]… what the hell was that?”

You giggled as you looked over at her and spoke. “What?”

She continued to stare incredulously.

You looked at her. In this light, your dopey smile and red eyes looked… familiar.

The gears started to turn as her face dropped in realisation. “The muffin.”

You nearly barked out a laugh. “What???” You asked again.

“The muffin you ate, idiot.” She said slowly. “You’re high as a kite right now! It was laced!”

Oh. Oh yeah. Oh yeah, you were STONED. Now it made sense.

You snickered some more. She groaned. “No, [First Name], this isn’t funny, this is…” She couldn’t help but start to smirk at your intoxicated giggles. “Stop laughing. Do you know how dangerous this is?“ She said, but she started to grin herself.

Maybe because of the absurdity of the situation.

Maybe because it all made sense now.

Or maybe because you were absolutely blitzed out of your mind.

Whatever it was, it sure made for a funny story to reminisce on. Needless to say you don’t take muffins from strangers anymore.

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 7

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,255

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), wound cleaning, arguments, Hurt Comfort, Panic Attack, Crying, Nightmare, talk of past trauma (dead brother), Not Edited

A/N: TLDR for the last chapter - Chris notices Y/N drifting slowly, and tries his best to keep her within a safe distance… but one night him and his brothers decide to film a car video. While in the house alone Y/N tries to distract herself from the bad thoughts… it doesn’t work, and she doesn’t want to interrupt the triplets, causing her to relapse and try to commit. She calls Chris, and the guys rush home to find her a bloody mess in the bathroom. (Nick didn’t see it because Chris made him leave, but Matt was really effected by what he saw) after cleaning her wounds, Chris leaves her with nick while he cleans up the mess in the bathroom (Matt left, barely even looking at her), while with nick she tells him everything. The chapter ends with Chris saying “who said I was pretending?”. This chapter picks up right where the last one ended.

if I missed something, please let me know

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

“I told Nick…” he just stares into my eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to love me anymore, there’s no point in lying anymore.”

“who said I was pretending?”

I stare into his icy eyes in the dim lighting, trying to figure out if this was some cruel joke. “Don’t say things you don’t mean Chris.” It’s lined with a venom developed from years of rejection.

“it’s not a lie.” He looks genuine, I want him to mean it. “I think I’m in love with you… we can talk about it in the morning, you need to sleep”

I try to protest, but he just nuzzles his head into the space between my collar and jaw. The adrenaline rush from the events of the night finally dies down, and I realize just how tired I am. Within minutes my heavy eyes drift shut, all thoughts of an explanation long gone.

“”“”“”“”“”

The sun through the window wakes me up, I reach over for Chris… the bed is cold where he usually lays. I lay in peace for a moment before my brain starts working.

Did I just imagine the conversation with Chris? Was it a lie he told so I didn’t try to kill myself again? Was it just the adrenaline rush that made him say it? What if I dreamt it all? What if-

Before I could keeps coming up with worse case scenarios, the bedroom door opened. Chris walked in carrying two plates of pancakes.

He sits down criss cross in front of me on the bed, handing me a plate and fork. “How are you feeling?” He asks right as I shove a piece of pancake into my mouth.

“much better now… you didn’t need to make me breakfast in bed.” I pause for a second, staring at my food while trying not to cry. “You also didn’t need to say that you love me…”

I hear him set his plate and fork down. “Yes I did… not for you, but for me.” With that I looked up at him. “I have been so scared to tell you how I felt, out of the possibility that it scares you away… but I can’t lose you Y/N, I can’t not tell you how I feel.”

He meant it.

I just stare at him, dumbfounded at how he could really mean it. I’ve never been the kind of girl that all the guys chase, especially guys that look like Chris. I’ve always struggled with how I see myself, and I never thought that I’d believe a man who says he loves me…

But here we are.

“When we’re done eating I need to change your bandages, and then we can watch a movie or something… if you want to, if you want to do something else that’s totally fine…”

He’s rambling, I love it.

I love him.

“”“”“”“”“”

it’s been a month since the incident, and I’ve never been happier… and I’ve never felt worse.

It's a normal Tuesday night this time… I can feel Chris tossing and turning. I open my eyes to see his face scrunched up in anguish, and I know that it’s my fault. This happens at least once a week.

It’s always the same:

-It starts with tossing and turning

-then he starts pleading (“no, no, please, it’s okay… baby… please, you have to be okay… please don’t leave me…”)

-I usually end up straddling him before gently shaking him awake

-he wakes up and hold me like he never thought he’d see me again, and he never tells me what his nightmares are about.

He doesn’t have to.

I remember the look in his eyes when he opened the door. The way he tried to keep it together, never letting his tears fall. I could hear him breaking down while he cleaned the bathroom floor.

I see that look in his eyes again when he opens them. “It’s okay baby… it’s just a nightmare… everything is okay now.” He burst into tears, pulling me into him. We stay like this until we end up falling back asleep. I wait until I had his breathing even out, and he starts snoring softly before letting myself fall back asleep.

I know he won’t talk about it in the morning, but I’ll still ask him.

“”“”“”“”“”

The vibe in the house has been tense since that night. I walk into the kitchen, and notice Matt staring at something on his phone.

“good morning.” I say, smiling in his direction.

he looks at me with a look of disgust, before leaving the room.

I’m tired of this… I’m going to follow him to his room to make him talk to me. He hasn’t said a word to me since he found out I was alive.

“Get out of my room.” He snaps in my direction. “I don’t want you here”

“Do you wish I died?” I didn’t mean to say it so bluntly, but it’s been the only thought in my head for the last month.

“Excuse me?” I can tell it offended him. That wasn’t my intention.

“I said ‘do you’… ‘wish that I had died’, it’s a yes or no question.” I didn’t mean to starts out this hostile, but it’s been building for longer than I wanted it to.

“how could you say something like that Y/N?” He has tears in his eyes now. Shit. “I can’t stand to look at you, but it’s not because I wish that you had died!” I clearly misread the situation before me. “I can’t look at you because every time I do, all I see is you on the floor, covered in your own blood. I can’t look at you because I see you, half dead, every time I close my eyes! I don’t sleep anymore Y/N!”

“Im so sorry…” I don’t know what else I can say. It’s true. I hate the way that my mistake has affected the people around me.

“No Y/N, it’s too late to apologize… did you even think about how traumatic finding you like that would be for us?”

“I know how you feel, I can help you with-” I’m cut off before I can finish my sentence.

“You don’t know shit about what this is like! I had to watch my brother patch up the slit wrists of my best friend… the love of his life, and all I could do was stand there!” His voice is shaking, but I can’t stop now.

“Don’t talk about me like you know anything about my life before I moved to Boston! I survived… I understand that you are struggling, but you don’t get to act like I died. I know exactly what you feel like, because I’ve been right where you are… the only difference is that my brother didn’t survive.”

I never told him about my brother, Chris and Nick are the only people in my life who know.

“You can’t possibly imagine the pain of finding your twin brother lying dead on the floor of his bedroom!” The words are coming quicker than I can process. “You never had parents that told you that they wish it had been you, you always got a birthday, and you never had to move to a different state because everyone knew that you tried to kill yourself… so don’t tell me that I don’t know what you’re going through!” I’m practically screaming by the end.

Then I’m crying.

And Matt is holding me while we both cry.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi