#the angst of the situation would be sooo good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scottiexmariee · 22 days ago

Note

omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕

omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead

I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here

Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3

Defending Their Honor

Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (oops)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.

Masterlist

Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.

☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”

☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though

☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed

☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence

☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home

Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public.

The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.

So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.

It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared.

He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.

But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.

Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?

He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.

He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over.

You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.

You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.

“I may or may not have slapped someone,”

His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario.

“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries.

“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”

Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?

When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.

“I know you just saw me with someone.”

“So?”

“Not interested,”

“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”

That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline.

Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.

Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap.

You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly.

Xavier almost giggled.

“So….you slapped him?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.

Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.

“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”

“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious.

Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else.

After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”

❅ okay listen I love Zayne

❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)

❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary

❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name

Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient.

The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).

Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here.

By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave.

It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.

He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car.

Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress.

A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color.

The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss.

While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted.

The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand.

It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.

“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid.

“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated.

You swallowed.

“I can…”

Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”

You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping.

While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?

And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of.

Zayne.

Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.

At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior.

And then, she just….kept going.

Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled.

You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing.

Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him.

Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.

For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?

He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist.

You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke.

“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,”

You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”

You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”

❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??

❀ yeahhhh

❀ but also.....feelings

When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course.

It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,”

The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either.

Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art.

That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding.

It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel.

Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night.

Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted.

“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?”

You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled.

“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,”

“It’s different,”

“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,”

“Rafayel. You were the art,”

Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence.

You were the art.

The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter.

You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him.

You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.

He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause.

He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates.

“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,”

Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest.

This would forever stick out as one of those moments.

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ SOFT SYLUS.

Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he.

After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension.

Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you.

It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of? The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in?

While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field.

Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.

The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes.

The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it.

Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.

One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard.

The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear. “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.”

Oh?

In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’d like to see you try,”

Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.

Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.

Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”

You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway. So why did this piss you off so badly?

“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.

Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”

Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing.

It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.

At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.

Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself.

Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions.

You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.

Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment.

“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”

You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.

Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just…disrespectful.”

Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room.

Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you.

Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.

Yeah, he had it bad.

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out.

Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd

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jweekgoji · 4 months ago

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Yandere!Five/Reader.

wow how long has it been? two years since I wrote something for TUA? I still haven't rewatched it since I'm finally catching up with breaking bad but I hope I'll rewatch TUA next week or so. for some strange reason I feel that weird feeling like I need to come back to my fav fictional family with bread and milk and concentrate on it ughhh. when I rewatch it I will check that requests I had before for TUA and will finish them!

tw: yandere Five, unhealthy obsession, mentions of the reader's death, Five has ZERO moments of peace here, angst, controlling Five, mentions of Five's childhood, sort of happy ending?

I'm probably describing my thoughts sooo bad don't be mad please

Like we know, Reginald wasn't afraid to use his own «children» for every heroic mission. Bank robbery? He'll make a 14 year old kids deal with it. Some villains are trying to cause problems? Well, another time to test Number 1's leadership skills, no time for a happy childhood, kiddos! And that is basically what their life is.

Basically, the only source from which they can get the feeling of being needed, loved by the public, and recognized, if not by their father but by the citizens. Reginald trained them well, as long as there are 6 of them, they can deal with any kind of problem. I mean, come on, they're THE Hargreeves, one of the strongest people in the world who have unique superpowers, it's not like something might go wrong one day.

Five was always the most compatible member of the team, always trying to be the best. Despite only being the fifth in the ranking, it doesn't stop him from showing off every time he taunts another criminal, making them lose their minds in attempts to catch him.

It was another day when he and his siblings would find a criminal to deal with. Everything went smoothly, as Luther would discuss the plan with everyone. Klaus and Ben would be outside waiting for the signal, Allison and Luther would be the ones to distract the criminals from the hostages and Diego should disarm them before causing any serious trouble. Five would be the one who would save the hostages.

I think his abilities help the most in such situations. He can teleport any person away in just seconds and lead them into safety, no one would even notice. And if something happens, Five is capable enough to fight by himself.

You are the last hostage he protects now. He had already saved more than 10 people non-stop before, and for some reason, his powers refused to work. It's not like he is weak or something, no, no, just give him some time to catch his breath, and he will continue in a moment! He can't let someone see him like this, let alone let his father find out about this little problem.

He would huff and puff about it, probably imagining how Diego or Klaus were teasing him, how Five was losing his cool and accidentally forgetting how his own powers were working due to what a pretty little hostage Five talked to! And they're close to his age too, so it would be natural for his age to get shy and awkward in front of someone cute he found~! Well, at least it's exactly what he imagines hearing from Klaus after the mission.

Five wasn't quiet around people, usually. He enjoys talking with his siblings, well, with some of them—and he finds it amusing to toy with criminals.

For some reason, he is quiet around you.

Of course, he would try to reassure you that everything is fine, he is a good guy here, and soon enough, you would be safe. The only thing you have to do is just listen to him and follow his lead.

He didn't suspect everything, of course, and was so full of himself even at such an age, thinking nothing would go wrong. You were around his age, and naturally, despite being an arrogant little brat, he did find you quite cute. Maybe, if he had a different life, he would have approached you in different circumstances.

But Five learned the hard way that he's not the strongest and could never be the number one. He would never be able to save everyone. He just stopped paying attention for a one damn second, and the next thing he heard, was a gunshot. Five could feel your hand slipping away from his own, and he would look back just in time to see you almost stumbling, only to catch you in his own arms. Blood painted his dark blue uniform in red.

After that incident, Five became more obsessed with the idea of time travelling. If at first he wanted to prove to his father that he is capable of much more, to show that he's actually much better than everyone, this idea also feeds off his guilt. His first mistake, the only time he failed to do his task. And he just can't let go of it, no matter how much Viktor tries to tell him that it's really not his fault, that he couldn't predict it.

And then, during dinner, he runs away, despite Viktor silently begging him not to do it. Then he blinks again, again, and again, until it's nothing but ruins surrounding him. Until The Handler decides to pay him a visit, expect that he will probably be much more calculative and controlling. 40 years of being alone did it's horrible job on his mind, every day trying to survive while thinking about a possible way out of this situation. Maybe, if he makes much better calculations, he will actually succeed. But being away from humanity for so long makes him crave human contact, he already had that mannequin, Dolores, he could find, talking every day to her about how he actually missed his family, how he wants at least some kind of sick normalcy he had back in the academy. At least he had a place to live without worrying every day about his own survival.

During these moments, where he actually gives himself some time to be weak, he wonders would he still do this if you were still alive? Would he still risk everything just to make his father proud?

He didn't know much about you before. The police shortly said that day that one of the employees had a child in the building, and they were taken hostages by the villains. You were around his age, a young, probably promising student in your normal school, with caring parents and friends who worried about you. Something he craved deeply, even though he would have never admitted it.

When he couldn't have teleported you away safely, he led you through the second way out. He can tell you were scared. Of course, who wouldn't be? It's not like you were used to it. He isn't the gentlest person, more like focused on the business and how to end it all as fast as possible. But you were shaking mess, asking from time to time if it's safe or is actually everything okay? Five, in his some kind of nonchalant and gruff manner, would only nod, reassuring you that his siblings probably dealt with the villains by that time.

You looked so normal for him. You had no powers, no one made you train every day just to bend you into their high expectations, you didn't have to compete for someone's love and approval. You acted like he's just a normal person too, never bothering him with questions about his brothers or a sister, not trying to peek into some secret life of the Hargreeves family. Do you even know who he is?

Eventually, he can't remember who exactly started the dialogue. Was it you, who just wanted to talk about something so boring like your school life, or like that you probably skipped a few classes and missed a math test? Or was it him, remembering his trainings how he should try to make the worried and scared hostage less afraid by making a small talk with them? He's too old to remember every single detail. But he certainly remembered that he at least listened to what you said to him. That he was actually looking at you, giving you his full attention.

Maybe if he was born into a normal family, he would have had a chance to live that normal life with you. But that would be too kind to wish for, wasn't it? Now, that his hands are covered in blood of so many innocent people he had to kill, asking for a normal life is impossible. Even after taking hundreds of lives, he still can't understand why is the sight of yours in his hands any different? He thought he would be used to it by now. What kind of evil God makes him see it over and over again, in every goddamn timeline?

First, it was a villain killing you right in front of him. Second, it was the Swedes who killed you the next day they saw Five trying to talk to you. He almost lost his mind when he spotted you living near the same hotel where his siblings and he decided to stay. But once again, the more problems just followed, leading to another damn disaster to take you away.

When he lost his powers, he didn't know if he should feel relieved or more concerned about it. Of course, that means that he probably has to find Reginald, to get more answers about what the hell happened in this new universe. But that also meant that he finally has a chance to live like a normal person too. Like you did.

He was unfamiliar with this world. He felt lost, humiliated most of the time now that everyone treat him like he's actually younger than he is. At least people stopped treating him like a child, yet he still has to deal with someone underestimating him. He has to find a job, a place to live, for God's sake, how the hell is he going to live without any documents here?

The fate seemed to be connecting you two once again, as it seemed. You would meet him accidentally, one time you just saw him visiting a café you were working for and the same process would repeat again. This time, he would actually remember every single little detail. He would approach you first, carefully and as politely as he could. He still thinks that if he makes even the smallest mistake, he would experience your loss once again. This time he won't screw up, he would plan everything strictly to his scenario. Your meeting, your first date, your first 'I love you'. You might think he's just the most perfect guy you ever met, which actually... would not be so far from the truth? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

#yandere x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #yandere five hargreeves x reader #yandere tua #yandere the umbrella academy #yandere five hargreeves #yandere number five #number five x reader #number five #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #yandere imagines #tw yandere #male yandere

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spacebaby1 · 3 months ago

Note

hiyaaa

Can I ask Rindou's reaction to the fact that his partner is expecting his child?

and for more drama (I'm a dramatic girl and I love drama) you could have Rindou's partner hide the situation from him

drama, angst but happy ending 😝

Hiii! Bestie, I got you! One thing about me is that I live for drama in writing 🎀😌🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 let's start!

You and Rindou never had an argument because he always listened to you, but that didn't last long. You couldn't even remember what escalated the whole conversation into an argument, which led to Rindou slamming the door behind him as he left you'd house last night. The whole night you couldn't sleep not until the sun was out and your eyes gave up from all the crying; you weren't even sure why you were feeling emotional usually it's hard to make you cry. Anyways, you fell asleep around the early hours of the day after shutting your phone completely.

All the crying tired your body to no end that you ended up sleeping until late afternoon. Around four in the afternoon you woke up with a painful headache and aching in your abdomen and before you could grab your phone you felt your stomach turned and you ran to the bathroom, throwing up for a good half an hour before you sat on the bathroom floor.

The memories of yesterday's argument came rushing to you after you were back in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. You weren't feeling well at all and thought the argument took a toll on you so bad that you were about to get sick. You didn't question the vomiting because it was how you'd react if you had a heated argument; it was natural body response to you. Finally, picking up your phone, you turned it on only for Rindou's texts. Fill your screen, followed by numerous of missed calls:

My love: Baby are you okay?

Look, I'm really sorry for shouting at you. I just lost control. But it wasn't your fault. It was me. Please forgive me?

My love:Darling? Can I call you?

*missed call*

My love: baby please answer me, at least end the ringing so I'll know you can see my calls.

My love: I'm so soo sooo sorry

My love: I can't sleep after I made you upset, I'm an idiot! I wish I can hold you right now...

My love: Are you sleeping, sweetie? Good night, my beautiful baby.

12:23 P.M

My love: baby? Sweetheart? Please text back.

My love: at least tell me you're not hurt I'm fucking going insane!

My love: y/n! Baby, I'm sorry!

3:50 P.M

My love: I'm worried about you angel, text me! It's not your usual self to sleep this much.

My love: Can I come by? I'm sorry baby, please don't give me the silent treatment. I'm so sorry, and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time."

He must've seen you reading the texts, and before you could reply, he called you. You sighed and answered, "Baby? Baby, are you okay?" You heard his tired voice. It wasn't until you answered that you realised how sore your throat was, "hi," it came out almost as a whisper before your cough holding the phone away a bit. Rindou panicked at the sound of your tired voice and coughing, "I'm coming over-"

"No, please not now," you replied in a low voice, "I'm not feeling well, just-just- I nee-" you were crying again, he heard you snuffling. "D-dont cry," now he was crying, You shook your head as if he could see you, "I'm so sorry, I hurt you. "I'm so sorry and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time. Just let me see you."

"Please, Rindou. I need space."

"You're not breaking up with me, are you?" He asked with a shaking voice. "No, Rin, I just need to be alone now." You heard his little sigh, "Okay, baby. Did you just wake up? You sound tired, let me order you some food-"

"No, Rin. I can-"

"No, please. At least let me do what I'm supposed to do as your boyfriend. Let me take care of you?" He sounded defeated, but you loved how he always took care of you No matter where he was. "Okay, I love you." You could almost hear his smile when you said that, "I love you more baby, call me if you need anything." You hung up and rubbed your forehead. The next two days were blurry because of how exhausted and sick you were. Usually, you'd let the fever go away, but it kept getting worse to the point that you couldn't put food down in your stomach.

On the third day you decided to visit the doctors and run some blood test to make sure it isn't anything serious and you wish it wasn't what you heard. "Miss Y/n? The blood test shows that everything is fine, just a slight changes in BP but it's normal at this stage."

"Huh? What do you mean at this stage?" You asked the doctor, and she looked at you confused then back at the chart that she was holding. "The pregnancy, you are three months pregnant, Y/n. Did you not know that?" Your eyes widened, and you could barely hear anything after that. Suddenly, it hit you. You were late, and you've been feeling so much different.

"I'm pregnant? Three mo-month?" You whispered more to yourself than a question to your doctor. The doctor nodded, "it explains that vomiting and the abdominal pain, are you okay?"

You got up, " Can you do an ultrasound? Can i see it?"

The doctor nodded, "Sure, if you'd want to."

You almost cried when you saw the screen of your ultrasound, "This is the baby." She pointed at the screen, and you smiled, forgetting the whole world the moment you saw your baby, "do you want the prints?" You nodded, whipping your happy tears away. It wasn't until you got home and saw the picture of you and Rindou on your phone screen is when your smile dropped; Rindou will not take the news well, you thought to yourself and you thought you were doing a good job at avoiding his texts and calls; it was a bad idea because he only grew more concerned about your relationship.

It was another day of you feeling absolutely horrible and vomiting all morning until your stomach was in knots. You heard the frantic bell ringing, followed by knocking on the front door. Groaning you got up holding your stomach with one hand as to you made your way towards the front door without asking who it was you opend the door slowly only to find Rindou standing there with tired eyes and looking panicked. He immediately gathered you in his arms making you yelp in surprise of how hard he was holding you; one of his hands on the back of your head and the other hilding you by the shoulder, "how could you avoid me for two weeks? I'm going insane thinking about you, baby. Why do you hate me so much? Fuck! I missed you." You gasped for air, "Ri, you are c-cruching me, I'm in pain-" He immediately let go and you almost fell on the ground passing out but he held you to his chest as you caught your breath, "you gonna crush me to death?" You asked in a low voice and groaned in pain holding your stomach. "Did I hurt you? I am so sorry, baby." He picked you up bridle style and headed towards your room, carefully placing you on your bed before sitting beside you and checking your forehead, "baby? You're burning." You shook your head, holding his hand in yours, "it's nothing, just an upset stomach. W-what are you doing here?" You asked, feeling yourself drifting to sleep. He sat on the floor next to the bed, kissed your hand, "you haven't text back for two weeks. I was worried, and you're sick yet you didn't call me?"

You shook your head, "I went to the doctors, it's nothing just a stomachache, it'll go by it's own." Rindou shook his head, "No, let me take care of you, do you wanna eat something?"

"I can't, I'll throw up, and it only hurt my stomach more, I just need to lay down." You said almost in a whisper before eventually falling back asleep, still holding Rindou's hands. "My baby," he kissed your forehead before running to get some cold cloth and place it on your forehead. Since you were sleeping, he decided to tide up your vanity a bit since you couldn't do it, and he noticed your things everywhere.

Rindou picked your make-up and placed them to the side, then your accessories which he put away in the box, and he grabbed your other things and opend the drawer to put them away only to find the ultrasound prints next to the results. His heart started beating fast as he took the picture in hand, eyes wide open he read it again and again making sure what he was looking at was indeed a baby and the test had your name on it. You were pregnant, and he felt his eyes blurred when he saw the date; it was a two and half week old test. He could hold back his sobs as he looked at the ultrasound prints. He was trying not to wake you up with his sobbing and he was shaking so hard that he had to sit down on the floor because he didn't trust his knees to hold him standing; he's gonna be a father? Did you even want the baby? Why didn't you tell him?

He sobbed for an hour before making his way towards you and softly kissing your forehead which made you wake up, and you blinked at him. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand with tears falling from his eyes which made you immediately sit on your bed, "Rinny? Wh-why are you crying? What's wrong?" You cupped his puffy face in your weak hands as your eyes met with his hand holding the ultrasound prints in his hands as more tears fell from his beautiful eyes, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm I not en-" you hugged him closer feeling yourself about to cry, "Don't say that, please." You whispered and he hugged you.

You both stayed like that for minutes and on until Rindou whipped his tears and sat beside you on the bed, with you covered with the blanket and head resting on his chest while he couldn't stop smiling at the picture of your baby. "I'm sorry I wasn’t there for this." You shook your head cuddling closer, "you seem happy." He looked down at you and wrapped his arms around you, "I'm gonna be a dad, of course I'm happy. I can't believe it. I'm gonna be a dad. There's gonna be a mini version of our love? I hope it's a girl, then she'll look as beautiful as you. Did you check? Is it a girl? Or boy?"

You chuckled at his excitement, "No, I didn't. I was just terrified and happy to see the baby." He hugged you closer, "you don't need to be terrified. We'll be great, Mama and dada. I promise."

#i wanna make out with rindou #rindou x y/n #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #tokrev rindou #tr rindou #rindou haitani fluff #rindou haitani x you #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers fanfiction

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moondirti · 1 year ago

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animalic (5)

← chapter four // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 3.4k summary: an unwelcome confrontation warnings: enemies to lovers, violence, blood and injury, mentioned death, fighting, angst, morally questionable characters, miguel o'hara is not nice notes: this chapter caused several headaches and i don't even like the end result, but i can't pick at it forever sooo. enjoy!

While you’ve never been renowned for making the most accurate of assumptions, there are certain patterns you’ve come to expect in order to have survived this long. To never have a glass of orange juice after brushing your teeth, or maintain eye contact while being threatened. That a kilogram of antimatter produces ten billion times the energy of chemical combustion upon annihilation, and that any quantity larger than that should not be contained.

Of such paradigms, you’ve noted only one to be entirely reliable. That a spider-hero would always fight crime, whatever the greater good.

“Absolutely not.”

You might’ve been mistaken.

“Those people are in danger, O’Hara.” You strain, trembling against the cough battering your chest. Your diaphragm spasms with every stride he takes, crushed against the curve of his broad shoulder, desperate to make up for lost breath.

He lets the plea hang, countenance obscured from your view. With the way he carries you now, all that meets your eye is navy – navy, and the bright red geometry stretched over the brawn of his back. The nanotech suit warps to fit every muscle, glinting as they push forward to meet the sun. And it dips, right between his shoulder blades, lining a clear contour of the anatomy he fails to hide. A dosser of intercostal sinew. Tapered laterals, cinched to curve at–

Your core broils uncomfortably, and his grip tightens around your knees, levelling up to the degree of his treatment thus far. After slinging off that rooftop, he’s made sure to keep you particularly close, like the effort could prevent your powers from manifesting. Like you could make it happen.

(Though, he doesn’t know that you can’t.)

But he’s smarter than that. If nothing else, it serves as a cautionary gesture. A reminder. You’re disarmed – quite literally – the only force between your nose and the sidewalk being the behemoth of a man whose body you’re strewn across. And, if you could control it – transcend the material at any given whim – it would be the extent and end of your efforts. Not with the neon webs binding you, nor your clear lack of skill.

The wind quivers with the distant sounds of calamity. You’re drawn back to the very real situation at hand.

“You make for a lousy excuse of a spiderman if your first instinct isn’t to save them!” You raise your voice, hoping to be heard over the sirens that blare towards the destruction. By counting them as they pass – two, four, six – you’re able to assign a severity to it. But it isn’t, won’t be, enough. You’d heard the screeches; primordial, clawing out from beyond the capabilities of an ordinary threat. You’d felt them – seeping into your bones, grating the spongy marrow – until Miguel had gathered enough obduration to reel you in the complete opposite direction.

Speaking of–

You tilt your head upwards, surveying the street down which he runs. It’s deserted, yet the presence of its civilians is slower to leave, a molasses that slinks towards locked doors. It’s thick with an apathetic acceptance, bordering on resignation – bitter and not unlike your own resting inclinations. You’ve never known an evacuation to happen this fast, especially this far out from the scene; people are stubborn like that, refusing to face what isn’t in front of them. That is to say, they might be used to it.

“You’re not even going the right way, dickhead!”

Of all things, that makes him stop.

(Of course it does.)

Your form flops uselessly as he turns to make sense of his surroundings. There’s the sign – 30 St and 7th – which should give any New Yorker an idea, but he doesn’t linger on it. Instead, he shoots a web to wrap around the railway of a fire escape, propelling the both of you onto an accompanying balcony. Swallowing the bile that swells along your throat at the sudden jump, you shoot him an incredulous look, which he chooses to ignore as he drops you to the floor.

His mask retreats, hair bouncing upon escape from its smothering embrace. For all that he tries to hide his pinched lips, you sense the scepticism emanating off him in waves.

You take a moment to stew over it, examining him while he calculates the path of your previous chase. From the convenience, to the corner, and into a nearby store lot. Perhaps he hadn’t been paying notice – which you sincerely doubt, considering the efficiency with which he treats everything else. Could he really be unfamiliar with the layout of a city his job is to protect? Or–

It occurs to you steadily, washing up on the fringes of your arrogance; a realisation in pieces.

Nueva York. 2099.

A metropolis. Likely one with no grid system.

Your cackle beckons his attention, severe stare snapping to your grin.

“We’re on Seventh.” You specify.

He cocks his head, nostrils flaring. Warning or question – you have a hard time deciphering the difference.

“The convenience was on Sixth and Third. You know, third avenue, East of Fifth?” You push it, spurred by your awareness that he, in fact, does not know.

“¡Ándale pues! What exactly is your point?”

“We continued down east until you bit me, judging by the way the sun hit the lot upon rising. But now, we’re on Seventh, on the other side of Fifth.”

His jaw clicks, pulsing in irritation. You toe the line of what you can get away with, how long you can drag this out before he decides you’re not worth the trouble.

“West. You’re heading West, and–” Wriggling, you adjust your posture into one more reflective of your current pride. “If you have any hope of finding that day pass, then you’re gonna need to go back.”

The bid translates, weighty, bubbling like the arid smoke off nuclear strife. He processes it, understands – you watch as it unfolds in that intimidatingly intelligent glare – yet the circumstance takes a while to establish itself. Even when it does, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of a full blown breakdown. No. His hands just find his hips, chin sloping to the sky.

“No puedo más, no puedo más, no–”

You probably shouldn’t rub it in any further.

“Since it’s on our way–”

"No." He snaps, voice laced with a prickling irritation that sears through his supposed indifference. The heat of it greets you, wiping the simper that had begun stretching your cheeks. “You must think this is some game, and while that might explain the shit you’ve pulled in the past, I have a responsibility. I can’t interfere with their canon.”

“So, what? You’re just gonna let them die?”

His expression lifts, brows rising expectantly, like he’s imploring you to shut up without his verbal confirmation.

Right.

It starts like a taut bowstring, straining as it verges on release.

On one end, there’s Apollo; drawing his arrow, a god amongst men. The direction with which he aims his weapon can be seen as prophetic – plague was always meant to befall the crowd at his mercy, their fates little more than a thread of mass design. Some call it righteous – epithets dedicated to his name – agreed upon by the same men who claim that rational means right. Some craft sculptures in his visage, this muse of the kouros, likening stone to flesh and deluding the observer that the two can be synonymous. Nietzsche, Bernini. You, yourself, had managed to believe that the muscle rippling below you could be anything but an Athenian tragedy.

You linger on how startlingly poetic it all is, and the string pulls tighter. You’ve never claimed to be a hero, but you have the instinct, just the same. He, on the other hand, seems entirely dismissive of the urge you assumed would wreck him too.

(Partially your fault. You know better than to expect the obvious from him – that’s his pattern.)

As the two of you veer closer to the havoc, the arrow discharges, striking the tension that’s kept you still thus far. When it snaps, it shatters, congealing to form a beset of sounds, sights, fear. Heaving sobs from a limping group of friends – the middle one rapidly losing blood from what you can tell. The pungent clog of burning debris, fed by the ash that lays suspended, mid-air. The painful creak of metal collapsing in on itself, peppered amongst the constant buzz of radio static. Miguel curbs to a stop, hidden in the notch of an alleyway, and uses the cover to reposition you in his carry. You go from slung over his shoulder to laid across his arms – not quite bridal style, but a placement similar enough that he retains a solid hold of you.

His mask comes back up, concealing the cynicism that had begun to creep up onto you both. You scoff at the unambiguity of the action, the parallel it poses to the reality at hand. He blocks himself to the obvious, the avoidable.

Glowering, you trace his line of vision to the encompassing wreckage. The street appears hauntingly familiar, thrumming with the hurried echoes of a recent memory. It lacks the colourful components – the vivid signage, the star speckled windows – yet, you recognize it all the same. The very avenue you frantically traversed only hours ago. Your companion, too, begins to grasp the truth, and you find yourself biting your cheek, a twinge of unease settling in as the revelation hits you: that perhaps you had divulged too much, far surpassing the realm of personal gain.

Yeah, the day pass is here. And you can only hope that he won’t find it.

For now, though, it appears to be the least of your worries.

A crimson creature prowls along the fringes of the decimated ruins – deliberate, relaxed, like a predator with its teeth already halfway dug in its meal – circling a man clad in a lab coat. Its size is menacing enough; standing at seven feet, with limbs as thick as pipes. Yet, what truly strikes you are the protruding bulges flanking either side of its jaw, and the white, emblematic eyes gazing out from upon its face.

“Spider-person?” You whisper, not so much looking for clarification as you were putting the possibility out there. Miguel is unwavering, dead-set on waiting the interaction out.

“Something like that.” He affirms.

“Y’know, I remember you, doc!” The creature jibes, its inflection nearing maniacal. “You sat on my jury! Yes, yes. Hard to forget a shiner like that.” Laughing, it points to the balding patch atop its victims head. He trembles, bowing in a silent cry.

“O’Hara–”

“Wraith.” He warns.

“Sixty seven years! Not even you look that old, ‘course you don’t understand how damning that sentence was! But you see, I got lucky. Some higher being must’ve taken pity on me, enough to grant me this miracle of a symbiote. Mhm, yeah–” He skips closer to his prey, considering him in the new light. “‘Cause now I can do things like…” A sharp blow echoes. The glassy spear, red as the flesh it extends from, skewers through the doctor’s chest, a spout of blood following through on the other end. “This!”

Miguel’s palm slaps over your mouth, knee supporting the portion of your body he releases whilst angling you away from the scene. You’re thankful for it, despite the overwhelming anger you bear against him. You’ve no trust in the horror that wracks you suddenly, all at once. It launches you back to that convenience, the robbery. How powerless you had been to stop the clerk from dying out, your hoodie fruitlessly wedged to her neck. You’d been spared the grief so far – the blur of the last day tamping to little more than an aching numbness. Yet you should have appreciated that it couldn’t last; guilt is far too familiar a prospect for you to have expected it to let off so soon.

(Your mistake.)

“Oops. Did that go through your heart? My bad, doc.” It howls, stuck in its own stand-up routine. “You’d been doing your… erm– civil duty, sure.” The loud squelch of gore triggers the imagery for you, regardless of your averted gaze. The limb-turned-spear being pried out from between his ribs, caked in bits of tissue.

Dead. You could’ve prevented it.

He could have.

From behind the veil of unshed tears, you watch as he ponders the risk of retracting his hand. You betray nothing, blinking back the hot dismay from your eyes, and instead meet his regard in cold defiance. Slowly, as though your apparent sensibility means anything, he removes the muzzle.

You contemplate screaming, to coax the creature from the group of people it has surrounded and make it Miguel's problem to handle.

Then, you remember your rather unsavoury predicament. How prone you are to harm with your limbs locked; you aren’t the best in combat, but you still could’ve stood a chance at survival if it wasn’t for your restraints.

Your captor reaffirms his grip, tucking you to his figure as he creeps up to a corner. His back remains glued to the brick wall, obscured in shadow. The stance is primed – far from the hesitant sidle he’d adopted before. It isn’t hard to figure out why; you see it too, buried under a pile of trash bags, on the other side of the road. Purple, luminescent.

The day pass.

As if on cue – choreographed by a sadistic deity with no favour for anyone involved – you glitch.

It doesn’t last long, but it’s enough for you to fall to the ground, erupting in a pained groan. The creature twists to lay its terror on your curled frame, shaded by a man who – despite his vast height – is dwarfed in comparison to its colossal self.

“Better start learning not to ignore my spidey sense! I’d felt you tiptoein’ over there,” It growls, neck stretching in preparation for attack.

“We’re not here for you.” Miguel urges.

“No? That hurts my feelings, and here I was thinking you wanted to be friends.” At the feral rip of its taunt, it lunges, tearing through the space separating you. The spider-man, in turn, dodges the barrelling assault, swinging in a blur of motion to a wreck not far off. You thank God for his flashy suit; the creature seems to forget you completely, pivoting to charge at him again.

You force yourself to look away, sickened at the unhinged savagery with which it thrashes. There are people still around, crippled by quickly debilitating injuries, the paramedics meant to aid them now amongst the lost. This is what you wanted – the opportunity to help – and of course you’re still hindered by the asshole who’d refused you in the first place. Desperation weighs heavy on your chest as your eyes scan the spoilage, seeking anything you could use to cut yourself free. And there, you catch it – the sharp end of a broken gutter, its jagged edge catching the afternoon sun.

Using your heels as anchors, you push yourself across the coarse pavement. It isn’t a long way, thankfully, but sweat already starts to dampen your shirt by the time you reach the potential lifeline. Angling yourself, you press the webs to the serrated metal, ready to start shoving. That is, until you remember Miguel; how he sat on your legs, his talons performing much the same feat. He made sure to hold your wrists apart, so you didn’t suffer damages he didn’t intend.

You remedy your approach, arms straining to separate, then thrust downwards. The telltale signs of your success come as pops, like elastic bands splintering. Then, it’s the easing pressure on your skin, irritated and surely marked in places where the binds come undone.

The makeshift blade catches your elbow once you’re halfway down, burying deep enough to touch bone. The world narrows to the searing intensity that blazes up your nerves, eclipsing all else. You almost forget your goal, your brain stirring signals to pull away, but the fight that rages in your peripheral is only growing more barbaric. Alarmingly, Miguel is losing.

If he dies, you’re next, and it’d all be in vain.

Biting your tongue, you stifle the pain and continue pressing. The gutter inches sideway, ripping through flesh and web like butter, the sleeves of your top mangling at its lip. Miraculously, you stay awake for the time it takes to finally get your arms loose. It’s harder to preserve that triumph when you sit up, though, dizziness distorting the plan of action you’d set for yourself.

(Get… get the people to safety. Then, your legs. No–

Free your legs, get the people to safety. And… what?

The day pass. Yeah.

But Mig–)

Your body moves with an unsettling disconnect from your own command. Unable to fully grasp the dissonance, you blanch in bewilderment as you navigate the clearest cut path through it all. A dance in a mechanical rhythm; pulling the webs off your calves, running over to the nearest civilian, and helping them up on their feet. And again. And again.

There’s a boy, young enough that you worry he doesn’t understand you’re harmless. His cherubic face is coated in a grey layer of dust, disturbed only by the tear marks that run from big eyes. His foot has been crushed, stormy blue blotching his knee. You dismiss the agony of your numerous wounds and crouch to pick him up, hugging him to your chest.

New squadrons of emergency services trickle in, careful to leave their sirens off as they round the corner. It’s an odd enough choice that it distracts you from the child’s fingers, which dig into your abrasion for purchase. An ensemble of prospects occur to you.

When you hand him off to an awaiting EMT, it clicks.

What’d the creature call itself? A symbiote?

(You haven’t always been science-oriented.

Freshman year of college, you’d joined as an undeclared major within the school of arts and architecture. ‘Course, you only had your general education requirements to fulfil at the time; useless classes that fit your self-imposed four day weekend, meant to do fuck all as your tuition went to waste. Needless to say, your ambition had been directed at more carnal pursuits.

Then, there was astronomy. It’d awakened your curiosity for the cosmos.

Astro 8, to be exact. Life in the Universe. Your post-midterm lesson had been on a recently discovered, space-faring civilization. Symbiotes – they were called – based on the initial assumption that they thrived in mutual beneficial relationships with other lifeforms. But the projection that flickered for its class of drowsy students entailed another truth entirely. Darkened bullet points in big, bold letters. Known weakness.

Fire, and sound.)

You sprint towards a nearby cop car, its door wide open and the driver's seat vacant. It’s instinctual, devoid of consideration. A singular objective dominates you, beyond the day pass – to kill that thing. Not for Miguel, who’s choked in its gnarled hand. Not for yourself, or your deep-rooted desire for heroism. No. Just for them – the boy and that group of friends, the doctor who still lays dead on the scene. For the sake of this world, and to reconcile the life you took just last night, as if such a trade-off could absolve you of the weight of your sins.

Stepping on the gas, you accelerate abruptly, gaining speed with every pothole you drive over. It looms ahead, crouched in front of a hollowed-out apartment complex, suffocating the futurist spider-man and vibrating with glee. If you can align it – aim and time it just right…

You activate the wail siren. Your hypothesis is validated when it screeches in response to the racket, throwing Miguel off to the side.

Good. He won’t be collateral.

You grab a gun from the cupholder on the dash, throwing it on the pedal to keep it down, then jump to the backseat.

The impact is seismic; a violent convergence of metal and brick and brawn that sends shockwaves rippling throughout your being. You become captive to the merciless momentum, forcefully propelled against the leather cushions. Chronic whiplash shreds upon the vulnerable muscles holding the weight of your concussed head; its talons raking through the fibres, pulling apart the once sturdy tissue. A relentless ring envelops the cacophony of noise, and silences it into one, tender hum.

You’re hauled out the window, detained in the embrace of some unspecified form, which settles above you for cover as the building comes crumbling down.

Or – not unspecified.

That mix of patchouli and musk.

Your consciousness turns to black as you're buried beneath the rubble.

chapter six →

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sweetbutpsychobutsweet · 7 months ago

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Knock Before Entering

Chapter 13

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin will have to exercise a great amount of restraint to not maim Kili and Fili, and when it comes time to grace the Wandering Widow with an encore performance you will have to find a way to take the stage with the rest of the company being none the wiser.

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, brief descriptions of bloody wounds/injuries, mentions of sex work if you squint

Author's Note: This chapter ended up being waaaaaay longer than anticipated so I've broken it up into multiple sections. Which means the next one is already mostly done🥳 Thank you all so much for the love for the previous chapters and the cockblocking nephews😂

Word count: 2505

“Sooo,” Kili tries to suppress a smile as you pull the last shards of glass from the cut on his hand. “How long has this been going on?” He looks over his shoulder at his uncle, who is sitting in a chair across the room. Arms crossed over his chest and a scowl etched on his face, Thorin hasn’t said a word since you were cock blocked by his nephews. Instead, he elected to just pull his shirt back on and remain in the room, brooding in the corner while you patched up Kili.

Fili still remains in the doorway, refusing to step foot in the room as if that will help save him from his uncle’s simmering rage.

“You know I have some sewing supplies,” you remind Kili. “If you irritate me enough I could decide this wound is in dire need of stitches.”

“He only wants to know whether we won the bet or not,” Fili sighs from the doorway.

You lift a brow in question, not lifting your gaze as you continue cleaning his brother’s wound. “The entire company placed bets on how long it would take the two of you to jump into bed together.”

Your head snaps up, immediately looking over at Thorin. He doesn’t meet your gaze, he just tips his head back to the ceiling with a heavy sigh.

“When did this happen?” you scoff.

“In Bag-end,” Kili winces when you start to apply the salve to his palm. “The others will be relieved to hear the wait is over.”

“The others don’t need to know,” you warn him as you reach for the roll of gauze beside you. As you do you catch Thorin’s gaze. Finally falling back on you, his eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t quite place.

You had expected him to agree with you. But instead, he looks…surprised. Like he hadn’t expected you to be so adamant about hiding your complicated relationship from the others.

Everything is still so messy and new. You don’t even know what you would call it yet.

You’re certainly not courting. Thorin could never be formally involved with someone from your background. He is a king. And a king is meant to marry a proper lady of good standing. Not a rebellious half-dwarf such as yourself. If there’s one you know, it’s that you are not meant to be his queen.

So does that make you… lovers? The term makes you cringe. It implies a much longer relationship than the situation will allow. This will only last as long as the journey to Erebor. Thorin will marry another and you will be on your way with the mountain at your back once again. This is all meant to be a temporary arrangement. If anything, it feels more like you have stumbled across an alternative way to tolerate each other’s presence.

These days it feels like the two of you only get along when you have your limbs are tangled together in secret.

And Thorin hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to make your relationship known to the others. He isn’t the kind of person to indulge in any kind of public displays of affection or to insist on putting a label on whatever it is the two of you have. Perhaps you misinterpreted his desire for privacy as an agreement to keep your relationship a secret.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost say Thorin looks hurt that you want to hide it. The look he gives you brings a stab of guilt into your chest. Tearing your gaze from him, you busy yourself with binding Kili’s hand. Whether you misread things or not, Thorin still takes your side regardless.

“What either of us do behind closed doors is no one else’s business,” he grumbles at his nephews. “Let this be a lesson to the both of you on the courtesy of knocking before entering.”

“Did uncle knock before entering you?” Kili whispers with a smirk and Thorin jumps from the chair so quickly it clatters to the floor. Fili leaps from his place in the doorway fast enough to block his path to Kili.

You quickly tie off the bandage and rise to your feet, inserting yourself between Fili and Thorin before they can start throwing punches.

“That’s enough,” you hiss at the both of them. Thorin still has murder in his eyes as he towers over you, glaring at his nephews.

“He was only joking,” Fili defends his brother, who’s now come to stand at his shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear either of you speak about her in such a manner again,” Thorin growls at them.

“Please forgive me,” Kili looks at you with a genuine nod of remorse, before stifling a laugh when he whispers “auntie” under his breath.

Thorin goes to take another step towards him as the two start to snicker. You bring a firm hand to his chest before he can make it past you. “Quit it,” you hiss as you shoot a warning look his way. You can feel the barely suppressed growl in his chest beneath your fingertips, but he does as you say and remains planted firmly in place. Keeping your hand on his chest, you turn to look over your shoulder at the boys.

“We’re done here, so you’re both going to go back to your room and go to bed.” You instruct. “And neither of you will breathe a word of this to anyone. Otherwise, those eagles will send you back to your mother in pieces. Understand?”

They both nod their heads grimly. Knowing better than to test you when you’re this close to resorting to violence. They silently turn to leave.

You walk them out. Latching the door firmly closed behind them and sliding the lock in place.

Letting your hand linger on the rusted metal, you dread turning to face Thorin now that it’s just the two of you again.

This time being alone together doesn’t carry the same implication. The moment has officially passed. The previous mood dead and buried.

With a steadying breath, you turn to face him. And just as you predicted Thorin is looking at you with an expression you’re all too familiar with lately.

“Care to explain what that was about?” he crosses his arms over his chest again.

“You’re the one who didn’t lock the door,” you deflect as you brush past him to the bed. Beginning to pick up the discarded supplies and tossing them back into your bag.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he grumbles. “Why didn’t you want them to tell the others?”

“Why is that so wrong?” you turn to face him again, a hand on your hip. “Are you obligated to keep the company informed on everyone you sleep with?”

“No, but I don’t feel the need to go out of my way to hide it.”

“If you want to be the one to answer the endless tirade of questions about us, be my guest Thorin,” you roll your eyes. “Questions that I’m not sure either of us even have the answer to.”

“Only because we haven’t discussed it,” he reminds you.

“Is that really how you want to pass the time now that they’re gone?” you set a hand on your hip with a scoff. “Talking?”

He clenches his jaw, taking a step closer to you.

Your breath catches in your chest as you look up at him towering over you.

“I can’t help how much you infuriate me,” he growls, bringing a hand up to run through your hair. “No one drives me as crazy as you do.” His hand slowly comes to the side of your face, caressing your cheek.

“Every time you open your mouth I lose control.” He starts to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, watching in awe as you wrap your lips around the digit, beginning to suck. He growls as you gently scrape your teeth over his skin.

His other hand wraps around your waist, beginning to pull you in closer to him. You bring your hands to his chest, sliding them up the hard planes of his pectorals.

As your hands slide up, his starts to slide down. He grabs a handful of the soft flesh of your ass, eliciting a moan from you around his thumb.

Knock knock

You both groan and turn to glare at the offending door yet again.

“Not now,” Thorin shouts but the knocking persists.

Reluctantly stepping away from you with a huff, Thorin stalks over to the door. Unlatching it and yanking it open roughly.

Gandalf stands in the doorway. “Apologies for the interruption,” he says. Not looking the least bit sorry as his gaze bounces between the two of you in a knowing look.

“Can this wait?” Thorin grumbles at the wizard.

“I’m afraid not,” he replies, “we need to discuss the path we’re going to take for the journey ahead. The others are already gathered down in the kitchen for supper.”

“Very well,” he huffs, looking over his shoulder at you. “Shall we?”

“Actually,” Gandalf raises a hand to halt you both before you can head out the door. “Your assistance is needed in the tavern.”

He gives you a pointed look and you sneak a glance out the window behind you. The sun is already going down. You had promised Bertram you would put on your encore performance at sunset tonight.

“Ah yes,” you clear your throat, “I…promised one of the barmaids I would help her with some… lady troubles.”

Thorin raises a brow in confusion. “Can’t it wait? You’ll miss supper.”

“Oh, I’m afraid lady troubles never wait. I’ll join you all later.”

You shoulder your way past the two of them, Thorin looking confused at your abrupt departure.

You shoot Gandalf a pointed look as you head for the stairs and he gives you a small nod in understanding. You can only hope that he fulfills his promise to keep the company occupied long enough for you to secure the night's lodgings

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re late,” Bertram grumbles from behind the bar. “The crowd’s starting to get antsy.” He nods to the restless patrons filling the dimly lit room. The musicians are already tuning their instruments and drunken folk from the nearby towns gather around the stage impatiently.

Considering it was on such short notice, you’re quite impressed word traveled this quickly. You already recognize many regulars in the audience from when you would take to the stage on a nightly basis.

“Apologies,” you mumble while pulling up the sheer fabric at your chest yet again. “I had some wardrobe troubles.”

Either you’re misremembering how uncomfortable the costume was or it’s somehow become tighter and itchier since the last time you wore it.

There are several loose layers of fabric over your hips and chest that are meant to be removed with a flourish throughout the performance. But it’s the pieces underneath that cling tightly to your body. They cover the only parts that will be left to the imagination so you don't want to risk them slipping off.

“Pretty sure this is the only profession where wardrobe malfunctions work to your benefit sweetheart,” he scoffs nodding to the musicians on stage to signal your arrival.

“Now break a leg, and make me some money,” he waves you off and you saunter away towards the stage.

The musicians begin to strum the opening of a familiar melody and the crowd starts to hoot and holler as you slowly climb the steps to center stage.

Blowing a kiss and waving to the crowd your feet tread a familiar path as your hips start to sway, seemingly of their own accord.

Muscle memory kicks in as you let yourself get carried away by the music. Swaying and twirling, smiling and winking as the onlookers cheer.

The music rises to a crescendo and with a roll of your neck and a flip of your hair, you begin to ever so slowly slip the fabric off of your shoulders.

It flutters to the ground, leaving nothing but a long strip of fabric covering your upper body.

Everyone cheers, and you lift your arms above your head with a dazzling smile. Maintaining the pose just long enough for them to drink in the sight.

Continuing your path across the stage, familiar patrons start to clamber closer to the edge of the stage. You’ve done this routine so many times they know the grand finale is drawing near.

With another spin, you quickly slip the tie at your hip free. Holding it taut in your hand your eyes quickly scan for a volunteer.

A big burly man with a long beard calls out your name with a cheer, holding his drink high overhead in a toast. You extend the piece of fabric out to him and he gladly accepts.

“Hold on tight,” you instruct with a wink and he does exactly that. Holding the end of the fabric in place, you begin to twirl away from him in a whirlwind, the skirt unraveling around you as you do so.

The crowd goes wild as the rest of the fabric disappears, sliding down your legs to pool at your feet as you strike another pose showing off your now bare legs.

Gingerly stepping over the pile of fabric you resume your dance, twirling to the other end of the stage.

Your next move is to reverse the movement and travel in the exact opposite direction. But before you can, a strong pair of arms reach around your waist from behind, dragging you backwards off the stage.

With a shout, you are abruptly set on your feet in front of the absolute last person you want to see right now.

“What are you doing?!” Thorin growls, keeping a firm grip on you as his eyes take in the very small amount of fabric in such a public place.

“I’m a little busy right now,” you hiss. The crowd has already started to shout in protest and the musicians have stopped playing, looking at each other in confusion.

You’re more than a little pissed they let someone just grab you from off the stage but that’s a conversation for another time.

You try to pull yourself from his grasp, if you get right back up there and finish the performance you’re sure you can remedy the situation.

Bertram is already pushing through the crowd, red in the face with his sights set on you.

Thorin’s grip only tightens on your arms, a muscle in his jaw tensing. He releases you for a brief second, and you foolishly think he's letting you have your way. But before you can climb back on stage, he is suddenly wrapping his cloak around your bare skin and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"You and I are going to have a little talk," he growls as he carries you out of the tavern kicking and screaming.

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

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cozzzynook · 3 months ago

Note

Okay okay idea time, Rodimus running away from home after Optimus finds out he's sparked with Megatron's sparklings.

While Optimus isn't a cruel or sparkless mech Rodimus knew his carrier would be more then mad when he was found in the med-bay. He was holding a scan with the photo of a large sparkling with a tank Alt-Mode, It didn't take a genius to figure out who the Sire was. After arguing with Optimus for 2 hours straight Rodimus knew he couldn't remain as a Auto-Bot as it was far too risky, He couldn't risk his sparkling getting taken away or worse so he packed a bag and just left.

The only bots who knew where Roddy had vanished too was Kup, Ratchet and Bee, all three refused to talk with Optimus for months after Rodimus left. Maybe once the war is over or his carrier has come to his senses he'll allow Optimus to see his sparkling when they arrive but for now Roddy is content to leave him in the dark.

Hope you enjoyed, I guess this could be classed as angst or hurt/comfort

I love this idea!!!

Its not even that Roddy is worried about Optimus hurting him or the bitty its just he knows other bots will and his carrier will be so focused on anger and disappointment and leading the autobots he won’t notice or have time to help.

Plus he’d stress Roddy out the entire time and Roddy knows it’s not a good thing to be sparked by a warlord but it happened and instead of using this as a treaty opportunity Optimus is not at all thinking about that.

But roddy is when the few who know agree with Prowl and Jazz who bring it up. The two find out on accident really and Roddy is certain Prowl and Jazz would do something to his bitty or him for being a traitor to the cause but they don’t. In face they’re offended by his beliefs and propose the idea of treaty through spark bonding and the bitty.

Roddy agrees to the bitty part but he’s very surprised when Megs agrees to the spark bonding part.

Roddy…isn’t on board with that part and Megs isn’t about to let the opportunity to conjunx Roddy go away sooooo he agrees to the treaty because their bitty truly is enough of a cause every bot can get behind since bitties were the only thing left unscathed during the war. But the treaty will only be signed if he’s allowed to conjunx Roddy.

Roddy agrees to everyone’s complete surprise and its only after all is signed and his carrier is still upset at him mind you, that Roddy says, “I agreed to conjunx you,” he rubs his tanks feeling the nausea roll with all the smells in the air and his nerves bad because of the situation and his carrier.

“But the treaty nor I ever said when.”

And..He’s got a point.

So he stands and turns to leave with Megatron ready to follow but Bee and Kup are keeping them distanced with Bee following giving their carrier a disappointed look and Kup gives the warlord some advice.

“Do the ritual right. My grandsparkling always did like his and Kaonian customs.”

Idk where my brain went but i like both these ideas and I can see a lot of secret bitties popping up all over on both sides. Same faction bitties and a lot of cross faction bitties.

Starscream is quick to move Bee and their bitty into their new home and Optimus is just..shocked he didn’t know both his bitties were seeing cons and he actually had a grandsparkling already.

“Get yer helm out of yer aft,” is Ratchets non too friendly advice to Optimus as he holds his and Drifts newest sparkling while their oldest sparkling First aid is standing next to his sire nodding before bounding off to now freely cling to his carrier Drift.

“He’s got a point boss,” Jazz is now openly holding his bitty while the sire just stands next to him. Okay so Optimus knew Jazz and Soundwave had a long thing going. He just kept his intake shut like he did with Prowl and Tarantulas who had a pretty complicated but loving relationship going on.

Sooo he does the next best thing which is sigh and apologize to both his friends and bitties.

He forgot how much he misses having them both in his arms snuggled up to him.

He’s very happy holding his grandsparkling and watching Megatron suffer his awkward attempts at courting Rodimus who actually enjoys them since its spark felt.

But he absolutely draws the line when Shockwave comes back. Because his bitties and long time friends can just see the intentions Shockwave has for him and man Optimus does not want to be sparked again.

“Our youngest bitty is and will stay Bumblebee, Shockwave. Get away from me.”

Starscream does not make things better, “Oh great, so you, your brother and carrier will all be sparked at the same time?”

Aaannnd thats not how Bee wanted others finding out he’s sparked again but Star just ruins things with that intake of his and he’s long learned to accept it.

Optimus manages not to kill Starscream and he manages to keep Shockwave at arms length for all of a hundred years before waking in berth with the cuddly mech who rubs his still flat tank.

“Not happening,” Optimus grumbles trying to turn away.

“Denial has never been suitable on you. Adorable nonetheless,” Shockwave simply states.

Idk what i did but i like it and thank you for submitting this story because i really like it and it made my brain do this.

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bruh-changbin · 1 year ago

Text

patience is a virtue

part 3 to invasion of privacy series

pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader

genre: smut, angst, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: unprotected sex (be safe), use of the pull out method (do not do this), piv, tit sucking, nipple play, mutual masturbation, some indecent public acts, mentions of vomit, alcolohol consumption, heeseung is so bad at communicating it is actually physically painful, jake is still annoying and hoon is a film bro oh god

word count: 8.6k

a/n: pls don't gut me ik this took forever but i hope its worth it at least lawl enjoy yourselves (but not too much......) also someone needs to take ellipses away from me. also not proofread

read part 1 and part 2 first or else this won't make a ton of sense

[shithead]: you guys wanna come to the cave to play smash? i got some more of that indica and jay finally cleaned his bong 🙄

[grandfather]: come on dude it wasn’t even that dirty

[cullen tease]:..... no comment

[cullen tease]: but yea i’m down

[grandfather]: what about heeseung?

[shithead]: idk… it’s just been radio silence from him for like 3 days

[cullen tease]: yea what happened to him?

[grandfather]: well the last time we talked to him was right before he hung out with y/n sooo

[shithead]: no way

[shithead]: do you think she fucked him so hard he passed out for three whole days?

[cullen tease]: shut the fuck up jaeyun

[shithead]: i’m just saying!!! if i had a hot roommate like that i would gladly let her destroy me

[cullen tease]: that’s because you’re a man whore

[grandfather]: come on guys cut it out, you know how heeseung tends to get

[grandfather]: emotional

[cullen tease]: that’s the understatement of the year

[shithead]: wait what if…….

[shithead]: she killed him

[grandfather]: you’re an idiot

[shithead]: it’s a possibility! what if it’s like a jennifer’s body type situation

[cullen tease]: hold up, you’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[shithead]: duh… it has megan fox in it

[grandfather]: okay let's not stray from the situation at hand

[shithead]: wait hoon why is it so surprising that i’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[cullen tease]: i just didn’t peg you as the type of guy to enjoy films like that

[shithead]: what the fuck does that mean

[grandfather]: guys

[cullen tease]: dude come on, your favourite movie is grown ups 2

[shithead]: what’s wrong with grown ups 2?

[cullen tease]: what’s wrong with it is that it’s trash

[shithead]: are you fr? it is a cinematic masterpiece and i don’t appreciate you acting all high and mighty because you’re a fucking film major who likes boring and sad movies like the godfather or whatever

[grandfather]: can you two shut the fuck up? we need to figure out what’s going on with hee

[adult virgin]: i’m not dead

[cullen tease]: heeseung!

[grandfather]: heeseung!

[shithead]: heeseung! you’re alive!!!

[grandfather]: how you doin’ buddy?

[shithead]: yea what went down with you and sexy roomie at the drive-in? i just know the two of you got up to some freaky shit

[grandfather]: jaeyun i swear to god

[adult virgin]: i don’t wanna talk about it

[cullen tease]: uh oh

[shithead]: oh shit

[grandfather]: oh jeez

[shithead]: jay you question why we call you grandfather when you say shit like ‘oh jeez’

[grandfather]: now’s not the time jake

[cullen tease]: come on heeseung, i’m sure it wasn’t that bad

[adult virgin]: i’m never going on a date again

[shithead]: wait i thought you said it wasn’t a date???

[grandfather]: jake you are one text away from getting kicked out of this group chat

[cullen tease]: i say we kick him out now

[adult virgin]: can you guys please stop blowing up my phone?

[shithead]: no can do my friend

[shithead]: it’s time for an intervention

[adult virgin]: i’m good

[adult virgin]: the last thing i need right now is you guys screaming at me while i’m trying to cope

[shithead]: too late, jay’s already got the car running. i’m bringing weed!

[cullen tease]: i’ll bring the funyuns

[shithead]: see you soon hee!

[adult virgin]: guys fr i just wanna be alone

[adult virgin]: guys?

bang bang bang!!!

heeseung recoils when he hears his friends banging on his front door a mere 11 minutes after they said they were coming; a mere 11 minutes after he explicitly told them not to. he recoils even more when he hears you open the door for them.

“oh, hey y/n…” jay does nothing to try to hide his discontent when he sees you open the door and not his heartbroken friend.

jake, who’s lowkey wanted to bang you since heeseung first moved in with you, pays no mind to his friend's wariness and envelops you in a rib-crushing hug whilst shouting “i haven’t seen you in forever!!!!!”

“hey guys!” you say with a soft smile before patting jake on the shoulder in an attempt to let him know that he’s stealing all of your oxygen, “come in, can i get you anything?”

jay just scoffs, “no thanks y/n, we don’t need anything from you.”

a somewhat puzzled look makes its way onto your face, “ok… well heeseungs in his room if that’s what you’re here for.” you nonchalantly motion down the hall before returning to the kitchen, leaving the three boys alone in the foyer.

“damn jay, you could’ve been a little nicer. we still don’t know what even went down between them, remember?” sunghoon murmurs while leading the way to heeseungs bedroom.

“i guess we’re about to find out,” jay holds his breath before tentatively knocking on heeseungs door before opening it and stepping inside.

when heeseung sees his friends open his door and step into his room, he rolls over so his back is facing them. he thought he was very clear that he is not in the mood to talk. nevertheless, the three of them stride into his room like a boy band and close the door behind them. heeseung hopes they pay no mind to the piles and piles of bunched up kleenex littering his room that are all shrivelled up from his tears.

“heeeyyy buddy!” jay croons to his dishevelled friend as if he’s talking to a puppy or small child.

“damnnnn hee, that must’ve been some good pussy if it’s got you acting like this!!!” jake exclaims, which earns him an elbow in the ribs.

“didn’t i tell you guys not to come? i’m trying to latibulate in peace,” heeseung groans, his voice so monotonous and strained it sounds almost robotic.

“come on, you didn’t seriously think we were gonna listen to you, right?” sunghoon says matter-of-factly, his ebony bangs covering his eyes and making him look eerily mysterious.

heeseung just sighs. he feels his mattress shift underneath him and looks over to see that jay has taken a seat on the edge of his bed, his eyes full of what appears to be mostly concern, some disgust as he swipes a couple of dirty tissues onto the floor (he tries to cover this up with a crooked smile).

“sooo what happened?” jake breaks the silence and asks the question that’s sitting on the tip of everyone’s tongue. heeseung, now in a seated position, places his head between his knees and does his best to swallow his shame before retelling the event that took place a few days prior.

“well, we went to the drive-in…” he starts, voice muffled due to his head hanging low, “and at first it was fine, but then… an… intimate scene came on.”

sunghoon hangs his head at this, seemingly knowing where the story is going.

heeseung can’t bare to look at his friends faces as he proceeds, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment as he recounts his unintentional virginity reveal, the two of you freaking it whilst surrounded by other movie goers, and the painful, painful silence that enveloped him for the rest of the night.

“and then she just… didn’t say anything. why the fuck didn’t she say anything???!!!!” he whines, his tone a complete 180 from what it was when he first spoke to his friends a short 3 minutes ago.

seemingly at a loss for words, jay just rests his hand on his friends shoulder, offering a gentle pat while sunghoon mumbles a quiet but heart-felt ‘beats me’ from where he’s leaning against heeseungs wall.

“females are so difficult to understand.”

“don’t say females jake, it makes you sound like an incel,” sunghoon suspires, the frayed ends of his hair fluttering in the process, “maybe she just thought you wanted to get it over with? or that you wanted something casual?”

“i don’t do casual.”

“okay, and how the fuck is she supposed to know that?” sunghoon retorts, defending you since you’re unable to defend yourself - jake subtly nods in agreeance.

“i don’t know! she’s way more emotionally intelligent than all of us combined so i thought that maybe she’d… pick up on it or something.” heeseung feels his energy depleting and he longs to simply curl up under his duvet and sleep the rest of the day away - or maybe the whole week actually.

“heeseung,” jay sympathizes, “we know you like y/n… but maybe it's just not gonna work out.”

jake interjects, “yea, and if she can’t see what an absolute package you are right now then maybe she never will! it’s her loss really,” he nods enthusiastically while looking at jay and sunghoon, prompting them to do the same - they do.

heeseung, with swollen cheeks and a bruised heart, can only offer a quiet “thanks guys” while wishing for the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes to go away. he knows that moving on from you, whilst being extremely difficult, is the best thing to do.

after heeseungs feeble thanks, the room falls silent. so silent only that the hum of the a/c is the only detectable sound - that, and the steady inhales and exhales of the 4 boys trapped in heeseungs stuffy bedroom. someone exhales before the shuffling of feet and the creaking of floorboards can be heard. heeseung hardly has any time to react before something (or someone?) is flying through the air and is on track to land directly on top of him.

“DOG PILE ON HEESEUNG!!!” jake shouts while full-on launching himself onto heeseungs body, effectively squashing him into his mattress. the weight of his friend knocks the wind out of him and heeseung barely manages to croak “jaeyun what the fuc-” before the weight is doubled, then tripled as sunghoon and jay follow suit.

it’s hard to tell whose limbs belong to who as heeseungs friends tussle his hair and squeeze his cheeks (and crush his rib cage, but that’s besides the point) in an attempt to get their glum, heartbroken friend to cheer up. and, for the first time in days, a smile appears on heeseungs face.

order confirmed. you will be updated when your food is en route for delivery.

as if on cue, heeseung’s stomach lets out a cavernous growl. he pats it comfortingly as if to say ‘it’s ok, soon you’ll be filled to the brim with an ice cold baja blast and 2 crunch wrap supremes. just hold on a little longer.’

nothing quite like eating away all of your sorrows.

it’s easy to forget how pivotal a kitchen is in one’s everyday life until it’s stripped away from you like a baby from its mother. ok, maybe not stripped away. more like consciously avoiding it to make sure that you don’t have an awkward run in with your roommate who performed oral sex on you several days ago and is now sending you mixed signals. the thought of having to hold an actual conversation with you makes heeseungs skin crawl.

he’s been successfully avoiding you for 4 days now, ensuring that he only leaves his room when absolutely necessary - and only doing so when he’s positive that you’re in your room or out of the house. before exiting his bedroom he spends minutes with his ear pressed up to his flimsy bedroom door, making sure the coast is clear before making a break for it.

one may think he’s being extra. just talk to her for crying out loud! but heeseung has managed to convince himself that you think he’s bottom of the barrel scum; the last piece of bread that always gets tossed; the mosquito on your wall that you whack with a rolled up newspaper as soon as you see it.

trash!

and so, he spends his days rotting away in his bedroom, his mattress now donning a permanent indent of the shape of his body; his trash can overflowing with wrappers from taco bell and mcdonalds; his laptop struggling to keep up with all of the mind-numbing streaming of shitty television he’s been doing.

one time he gave into his hopeless romantic side and watched the notebook but it made him cry so hard he woke up with a migraine. another time he got an ad for top gun: maverick and he wanted to die. stupid top gun. stupid tom cruise. stupid miles teller with his stupid moustache. now, he sticks to scrolling through tik tok and watching reruns of below deck sailing yacht and survivor.

he can feel his eyes starting to get heavy when a vibration from his phone jolts him back to reality, scrambling to find the device that he so mindlessly tossed underneath his comforter. his fingers finally come in contact with it, and he peers at the lit-up screen.

your food has been delivered. receipt/tip available.

yes! it feels as if his stomach has been quite literally eating itself for the past half hour, so heeseung leaps up at the prospect of soon having food in his belly. in fact he’s so excited at the idea of his taco bell order waiting for him that the thought of doing his ritualistic check to make sure he won’t have a run-in with you completely slips his mind.

so, when he swings open his door and bolts down the hallway, head filled with nothing but thoughts of chowing down on a tortilla filled with meat, lettuce and cheese, his heart practically falls to his stomach when instead he almost literally runs into you. you, holding a glass of water with your eyes wide like a fawn, taking in heeseungs dishevelled appearance after not seeing him for over half a week.

shit.

shitshitshitshitshitshit.

this was not supposed to happen.

“heeseung!” you say with enthusiasm (and a bit of concern).

it is in this very moment that heeseung fully understands what a deer must feel like when falling in front of the headlights of an oncoming vehicle - frozen.

“uh…. heeey y/n.” his throat feels like it’s about to close. is he having an allergic reaction to you?

seeing as plan a (get his food and go back to his room while avoiding you all together) has fallen through, he attempts to resort to plan b: grab taco bell bag and run like hell back to the safety of his bedroom.

unfortunately plan b also falls through, for once he worms himself to the front door and grabs the slightly warm paper bag and drink left on his porch he whips around only to see you standing in front of him, blocking his path to the safe haven that is his musty bedroom, (he’s reminded of admiral ackbar in episode vi of star wars - ‘it’s a trap!!!’).

“wait, can we talk?” your face is one of disquietude, “i feel like you’ve been… avoiding me.”

upon hearing your concerns, heeseung does what he’s best at - playing dumb.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

your face quickly changes, brows furrowed and eyes slightly squinted as if to say ‘are you shitting me?’. in a split second it seems as if you’re able to read heeseung like an open book, much to his dismay, before you open your mouth to speak again.

“did… did what i do at the drive-in make you uncomfortable?”

“no…” more like what you didn’t do - profess your undying love and devotion to him with tears in your eyes while he reassures you that he feels the same way and the two of you ride off into the sunset on a horse and start a new life in venice or kyoto or somewhere romantic and secluded.

“okay, so then why are you acting so weird?”

“i’m… stressed. sooo stressed. classes are killing me and i have a huge paper due soon.” liar. he’s excelling in all of his classes and doesn’t have anything due for another 5 days.

“oh, well what’s it about? maybe i can help you!” you offer while taking a step towards him. usually his heart would be leaping at the prospect of the two of you having some one on one time even if it is for a class, but right now that’s the last thing he needs.

“it’s about….. shakespeare.”

“shakespeare? i thought you were an engineering major-”

“it’s an elective. i’m very interested in classical literature.” no he’s not.

“oh, nice. hey why are you talking so weirdly? you sound like siri when i ask her a question.”

that’s it. he needs to get out of this conversation before he raises any more suspicion.

“i’m way deep into the academic headspace. speaking of,” he motions towards his bedroom door with his index finger, “i need to get back to work.” more like he needs to wallow in his own self-pity.

“wait, can we talk more? i still feel like you’re not telling me something,” you say while looking like a kicked puppy, and heeseung tries to not fall into your glassy, pleading gaze.

“it’s fine y/n, i get it.” he thinks you’re the light of his life and you think of him as your loser roommate who was all whiny about being a virgin so you did what you needed to do to shut him up. case closed.

“get… what?”

heeseung doesn’t respond, doesn’t give you the time of day. he simply exits the kitchen and closes his bedroom door behind him. he spares no final glance behind him because he knows the sight of you standing there with a hurt and perplexed look on your face will have him crawling back to you on his hands and knees.

instead, he shuffles into bed and tries to focus on whatever he was watching on his laptop prior to the most painful conversation he’s ever had in his entire life, his now tepid crunch wrap sitting in his limp grasp.

salty crocodile tears start rolling down his cheeks for the nth time this week.

“i am gonna get sooo many bitches tonight.”

“you shouldn’t call women bitches jake, that’s rude.”

pre-gaming in the cave before going out is a must. the four guys play a couple rounds of pong and flip cup while jay and jake chug putrid pilsner’s and pabst blue ribbons while sunghoon and heeseung opt for a much more tame rum and coke.

tonight he’s being dragged to a place he seldom ventures: a club.

heeseung doesn’t really like clubs.

he prefers bars where he can sit and drink and talk to his friends instead of clubs where he has to (attempt to) dance and drink and shout over the blasting music to communicate with anyone. alas, jake was adamant on going to this one particular place downtown where apparently he got with 3 different girls in one night (everyone knows that’s definitely not true, but they continue to humour him).

furthermore, his friends have decided that the financial blow of cover fees and shots at a club is worth getting heeseung up and out of his frowsty bedroom that has somewhat turned into something you would see on an episode of hoarders, so tonight’s outing will be free (for him at least).

“okay hee,” jake grabs his friend by the shoulders and shakes him aggressively, as if they’re two football players about to head onto the field, “gimme the game plan for tonight broski.”

“i’m gonna forget about y/n, and i’m gonna find a pretty girl,” heeseung says in the most sportsmanlike manner he can conjure up, “and i’m gonna fu…… i’m gonna make love to her.”

jake simply shakes his head in dismay, “no heeseung, you’re gonna fuck her. got it? go ahead, say it.”

“i’m gonna…” his neck feels like it’s flaring up, “i can’t say it, it feels rude and misogynistic.”

“dude, girls like to get fucked. they think it’s hot!!! now say ‘fuck’,” jake attests before staring at heeseung expectantly.

“okay………………. fuck.”

“hell yea bro! fuck!” jay joins in while clapping heeseung on the back in support.

“yea, fuck!!!”

“FUCK!!!!!!” sunghoon joins as well.

“FUUUUUUCK!!!” heeseung screams. the liquor in his bloodstream, while not copious, is making him feel fuzzy.

and finally, jake closes it out with, “LETS GO FUCK SHIT UP BROS!!!!!!” before storming out of the door with sunghoon following suit.

jay swings a beefy arm around heeseungs blocky shoulders and drags him along, the two of them soon catching up to hoon and jake who are whooping and hollering about god knows what. in the back of heeseungs mind he wonders what he’s gotten himself into.

immediately upon arrival heeseung is reminded once again of his detestment for clubs. they’re too loud and ho, and impersonal.

the floors and walls are shaking with some throwback early 2000’s pop song and after about 10 seconds the soles of his shoes are already covered in sticky syrup from spilled drinks. he follows his friends into the sea of people trying to get drunk or trying to get laid or both.

in the midst of the crowd he brushes shoulders with a guy he swears he’s seen before, a tall brute guy with blonde hair tied into a man bun and a red flannel hugging his shoulders (who wears a flannel to a club?), but he can’t quite remember when and where they’ve crossed paths before.

as sunghoon shoulders his way to the bar to order a round of tequila shots, heeseung stays planted to his spot on the floor, his eyes scanning his surroundings and taking everything in to the best of his abilities considering that purple and blue LED lights are painting everyone and everything within the establishment.

his eyes make their way from the bar to the dance floor to a section of stand-up tables, where he finds a pretty girl in leather pants and a cheetah print corset top staring right back at him. when their gaze’s connect she flashes him a small smile, which he returns.

“jake,” heeseung smacks his friend’s shoulder, “that girl won’t stop staring at me.”

“see hee! we told you you’d pull someone.”

he smirks, then panics, “what should i do?”

“what’s going on?” sunghoon turns around with four shooters balanced between his spindly ple fingers, each one filled with a menacing clear liquor that will ultimately decide his fate this evening. you’re not you when you’re sober but you’re you when you’re drunk!

jake grabs a shot greedily, like a leprechaun stumbling upon a pot of gold, “some chick is ogling at hee.”

sunghoon’s lip curls upwards, “lets go dawg!” he cheers while passing heeseung a shot as if it's a reward for receiving attention from a woman.

heeseung stares at the tequila in the glass he’s holding with his thumb and index finger; it stares back at him. in one swift move he downs it, then does the same with jake’s, jay’s, and finally sunghoon’s, who all stare at him in disbelief. he tries his best to not make a sour face, but he can’t hold back the deep cough that leaps out of him as the tequila burns his throat on its way down his esophagus and into his stomach.

“wow, okay.” jay says in astonishment, which prompts him to start laughing; everyone else begins to laugh as well, including heeseung.

“go talk to her shithead!” jake exclaims while shoving heeseung towards the mystery girl and her friends with much more force than necessary, making him stumble over his own feet much like bambi attempting to walk for the first time.

when he’s close enough he flashes her a toothy grin, his eyes trained on hers; her pupils look like deep pools of ink in the scarcity of good lighting. she just looks at him, a pretty smile painted on her face that pushes the apples of her cheeks to the sky.

“hey.”

“hi~”

“i’m heeseung.”

“okay heeseung, wanna dance?”

“uh sure!” he exclaims, albeit maybe a little too much excitement in his inflection.

the cheetah girl doesn’t say anything, just grabs his hand by the wrist (and thank god his wrist because his palms are embarrassingly sweaty) and drags him in the general direction of the dance floor. before he becomes completely swallowed by the mass of swaying bodies, he catches sunghoon and jay giving him a thumbs up from across the room - jake is too busy making out with someone to do the same.

heeseung feels the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest and lower back as he gets mixed up with the plethora of other sweaty bodies, trying to move in a sensual yet confident way that hopefully impresses the pretty girl he’s praying he’ll go home with. with his nose tucked into the crook of her neck he rocks his body against hers to the beat of the music, his pelvis bumping against her ass methodically.

“you’re so cute!” she squeals at his awkward attempt to grind up on her.

dear god. when oh when will he ever the patronizing, dehumanizing, emasculating label of ‘cute’? cute is what you say when you see a nest of baby bunnies, or an elderly couple on a date. heeseung is a grown man, he should be called handsome, statuesque, sexy even!!!

nevertheless, heeseung attempts to not let cheetah girl’s comment sour his mood. she’ll see how manly he really is, he’ll show her. in fact he’ll show her right now!

in this very moment he discovers why alcohol has been gifted the name of liquid courage since before he can even process what he’s doing he’s pulling cheetah girl out of the stuffy crowd of inebriated club goers, dragging her to an empty bathroom stall, and placing his tequila coated lips on hers.

she immediately reciprocates, because why else would she be giving him bedroom eyes across a crowded club if she didn’t want something along this vein to occur? despite being a virgin (? does getting your dick suck count as a loss of virginity?), he has made out with multiple girls on multiple different occasions prior to this one, so he lets his mouth and tongue and hands act on their own accord.

it feels as if his brain is swimming inside of his skull, making all of his senses blurred and fuzzy like tv static. he feels a pair of teeth sinking into his bottom teeth and he groans, his eyes squeezing shut impossibly tighter and his fingers digging into cheetah girl’s hips. she emits and airy moan in response, allowing heeseung to slot his tongue against hers - he tastes the vodka mixed with cranberry juice she was drinking when he approached her on the inside of her mouth.

the tip of his nose continuously bumps against hers as he sloppy sucks on her tongue and her teeth, his lips soon detaching to make their way across her jaw and down her neck. there he sinks his canines into her skin, causing her to hiss in both pleasure and pain before exhaling blissfully, her hot breath fanning across heeseung face as he reverts to kissing her on the mouth once again.

from the dj booth he hears the intro of a song that has his eyes shooting open - baby one more time by britney spears. the song that you alway play when you’re getting ready to go out, the song he chose to play during the car ride to the drive-in. he feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about the way you touched him that night, the way you wrapped your hand and lips around his cock without a second thought. his jaw slacks and his hands fall to his sides as his brain starts to move at a million miles per hour.

a mouth that’s not yours is pressed against his while a tongue that’s not yours slips inside and traces his teeth. heeseung can hear his pulse in his ears beating faster than the bass that vibrates the floors and the walls and the ceiling of the club that he now so desperately wishes he wasn’t in. a hand that isn’t yours pops the button of his jeans and slips past the waistband of his underwear. all he can think is how this feels so not… right. none of this is right!

without properly thinking he somewhat shoves the pretty but unknown girl off of him, prompting her to shout “what the fuck asshole??!!?” before storming out of the stall and off to find her friends to undoubtedly complain about what a selfish prick he is. but honestly, he doesn’t care. all he can think about is you and your touch and everything you encompass.

with a considerable amount of shoving heeseung makes his way outside, paying no mind to the select people that shoot him dirty looks after getting elbowed in the side. too inebriated to consider ordering an uber or calling a cab, he begins the 20 minute trek back to his apartment where he’s praying that you’re still residing, likely settled in your bed reading a book or watching season 2 of the bear. the cool night air stings his lungs as he trips and stumbles on the concrete with every other step he takes on his way back home, his way back to you.

being outside does absolutely nothing to sober heeseung up (especially considering that he downed 4 tequila shots not so long ago), and when the familiar front door of your shared rental house comes into view he practically runs to it, swinging it open and letting it bang against the wall before calling your name and jogging down the hallway. his shoes clomp against the hardwood floors as he approaches your door, the soft yellow glow emanating from underneath it the only source of light in the dark hallway.

“y/n?” heeseung barges into your bedroom, almost ripping your door off of its hinges in the process. once inside he sees you perched on your bed, your sheets pulled over your bent knees and a book with a splotchy blue cover in your grasp.

“what are you doing?” he questions you breathlessly.

your glance shifts from heeseung to the open book in your hands then back to heeseung, “reading?”

“oh, duh,” he pretends to facepalm while chuckling, your eyes still trained on his with a glint of scepticism. the gravity of his situation starts to dawn on him and he braces himself against your doorframe in an attempt to get the floor to stop spinning.

you furrow your brows and stare at heeseung pointedly, “are you drunk?”

“a little,” he hiccups, “actually a lot, but that’s besides the point.” finally he feels the courage he had 20 minutes ago at the club surge through him once more and he stumbles into your room, stopping at the corner of your bed and gazing down on you like you’re an ant.

“i have to tell you something.”

“okay.”

silence.

“...what do you wanna tell me?”

“oh, right.” come on heeseung, it’s now or never. he decides to take a seat on the edge of your bed so he’s looking directly at you, and he picks at the holes in his jeans as he ponders how to start.

“uhh… i really like the way you fold the dish towels in the kitchen.”

a look of shock makes its way onto your face - you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that of all things. before you can utter a word, a sound even, heeseung starts to ramble.

“and you smell really nice. like, really nice. and i think you’re really pretty, e-even when you’re angry, like when i wake you up to ask for a ride to campus when i’ve missed the bus. and i like how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’re focused, and how you ruffle my hair when i say something stupid… which is a lot.”

he pauses briefly to catch his breath, then continues on, “and i don’t let anyone eat my lucky charms except for you, n-not even my friends when they spend the night, because i know they remind you of being a kid and that you like to pick out the clover shaped marshmallows. and i like the way you draw smiley faces in the condensation on the mirror in the bathroom after you shower, and the way you exclusively listen to stevie nicks when you’re cleaning, an-”

“heeseung,” you interject, causing him to draw in a shaky inhale, “what are you trying to say?”

“what i’m trying to say is that i lo-” nope!!!!!! waaay too soon. luckily even drunk heeseung can recognize the damage an actual profession of love would cause. thank god he caught himself.

“i really really like you, ok? and i feel like you just see me as a-” here come the waterworks, “as a looooserrrrrrrr,” try as he might, heeseung can’t stop the pathetic, drunken sobs that escape his trembling lips.

“oh god, heeseung-” your feeble voice does little to drown out the wails emanating from the drunken boy perched on the corner of your bed, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed pink; you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying.

half a week of pent up confusion and sadness and heartbreak escapes him in the form of reverberating howls, his shoulders shaking even after you place a comforting hand on his back in an attempt to calm him down.

“and when you did… that at the drive-in, i thought that maybe meant that you liked me too.” he sniffles before wiping his nose with his sleeve; you reach over to your night stand and hand him a tissue.

“oh jesus, i’m so sorry hee i didn’t mean to confuse you i just-” you take a second to collect your thoughts, your thumb still caressing heeseungs backs through his shirt, “the way you were talking just made it seem like you just wanted to get it over with,” your hand doesn’t leave his back, “like, no strings attached, you know?”

“no… not no strings attached. i want strings attached. i want exclusivity. i want you.” his tears roll down to his mouth and he can taste the salt on his tongue.

“heeseung…” you all but whisper, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

he wants to say more, only when he tries to formulate his thoughts into words, he finds himself yaking all over your floor before passing out.

pain.

the first thing heeseung feels when he wakes up is pain.

not mental pain, which is what he’s felt for the past 5 days, but physical pain. an aching headache that shoots up from the base of his skull and wraps around to his forehead and flares at the back of his eyeballs. it’s settled, he is never touching alcohol ever again.

an acidic burn tickles his throat, and soon the memories from last night come flooding back to him. the cheetah girl at the club, the solemn and unsobering walk home, the drunken confession, and lastly, the puking.

he cracks his eyes open and immediately recoils, for the golden glow of the morning sun increases the aching in his head and behind his eyes tenfold. jesus, what time is it? a couple of blinks help his eyes adjust to the light, and he becomes aware of the figure sitting to the right of him. in a split second he soon realizes that he’s in your room, tucked under your sheets, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that’s become permanently woven into your pillows.

oh? oh. oh god. did you two….?

heeseungs restlessness draws your attention, and soon you're gazing down at him with a soft expression that makes heeseung feel all soft like honey.

“hey sleeping beauty.” you tease, your eyes still puffy with traces of sleep and the book you were reading before he oh so rudely interrupted you last night is in your hands again - a well-loved copy of murakami’s kafka on the shore, which you place on your nightstand for the sake of passing heeseung a tall glass of water and an advil. he downs both immediately.

“please tell me that the image i have of myself puking on your floor is something my brain conjured up while i was sleeping and not something that actually happened,” he rasps, throat stinging and nose stuffy.

“hate to break it to ya buddy,” you tsk while nodding sympathetically, “but that actually happened.”

heeseung shoves his head into your pillow, his thumbs pressing against his closed eyelids both in an attempt to relieve the ache and as an act of shame. he groans aloud, “oh god y/n i am so sorry, i-”

“heeseung it’s o-kay,” you punctuate, “shit happens.”

still unable to look at you, heeseung just nods, the friction from your silk pillowcase making a couple strands of his hair stand on end.

“besides, it was mostly clear,” you look off into the distance, “mostly.”

a second of quiet, and then you ask him, “how much of last night do you remember?”

he rolls onto his back, index and middle fingers of his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “most of it, it guess. i remember going out with my friends, stumbling back here and… telling you that i like you…”

“actually i believe you said that you really, really like me.” your sleep swollen lips curve into a teasing smirk.

“fuck off,” he jeers while playfully pushing your shoulder.

“woah!!! lee heeseung drops f-bombs now eh?”

he just chuckles, his hands moving to pass through his frazzled hair. as he shifts under your poofy comforter he realizes he’s still donning the clothes he wore last night - spare for his shoes, which he’s assuming you took off of him and likely put them on the shoe rack by the front door.

a silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. it’s not estranged or pointed, but hospitable.

“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.” you state. it’s not a positive or negative statement, simply neutral; an admission.

heeseung doesn’t say anything, just gazes at your side profile and admires the way your eyelashes grace the tops of your cheeks, the way your top lip converges at your cupids bow, the way your cheekbones are dotted with blemishes.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, “please?”

a plea.

and, in your secluded bedroom on this bright saturday morning, you answer him by pressing your lips to his.

it’s strange, since heeseung can’t seem to discern any actual sensations, he just feels incredibly warm. warm and soft, like taffy that’s been left out and has melted in the glow of the sun. his heart is flipping inside of the cage that is his ribs as he pushes his pursed lips against yours in reciprocation.

you detach your lips from his for a second only to reattach them moments later in a deeper, more passionate kiss that heeseung exhales into, the tip of his nose gracing yours as he tilts his head to sink impossibly deeper into you. his curious hands make their way up to the back of your neck where he grabs ahold and pulls you against him so your torso is on top of his own, your heart beating against his.

underneath the confines of your comforter heeseung feels your leg glide against his own, the sheets crinkling and tangling in the process. his mouth continues to dance against yours with his tongue experimentally poking out every so often before he pushes it past your lips and into your hot mouth. a whimper makes its way out of you and heeseung swears that if he were standing his knees surely would’ve given out from underneath him.

“heeseung…” you whine before nipping at his cushiony bottom lip, sucking at it to soothe the sting - and to make heeseung swoon even more. ugh! he just can’t get enough of you and your sickeningly sweet demeanour.

as you continue to kiss and suck at heeseung pouty lips and perfect teeth you become more and more restless, your hands moving to smooth over the expanse of his chest and the tops of his shoulders where they come to rest. the palms of your hands are soft and delicate and they send a shiver down heeseung’s spine as he feels them grace his cloth covered skin that’s slightly damp with sweat.

with (what seems like) some reluctance, you remove your mouth from heeseung’s with a wet smack. when he cracks open his eyes he finds you beholding him wistfully, your pupils dilated and lips swollen and glossy with lip gloss of his own making.

“can you show me how you get yourself off?”

your voice is deep and slow; sultry, like a glass of oxblood coloured cabernet sauvignon. his breath hitches in his throat once he fully registers the request you just made. show you? on his own??? he does his best to swallow his nerves.

“sure,” heeseung agrees bashfully, “if you can do the same.”

“okay.” you smile before tossing the blankets off of both of your hot bodies. a much welcomed gust of cool air causes heeseung to erupt in a fit of goosebumps (although he’s not quite sure if that’s from the change in temperature or his current predicament).

unsure of what to do next, he waits to follow your lead. with hungry eyes he watches you pull of your pyjama bottoms before tossing them in a heap on the floor, leaving you in a pair of plain light blue panties and an oversized band tee. in somewhat of a rush heeseung fumbles with the hardware of his jeans, struggling to pop the button and tug down the copper zipper at the fault of his nerves. eventually he does so successfully, discarding his bottoms before becoming stuck in limbo.

with deft fingers you begin to drag the hem of your shirt upwards, exposing more and more of your torso before stopping once you reach your sternum. the soft underside of your breasts are just barely peeking out from underneath the fabric.

heeseung watches with wide eyes and a painfully hard cock as you slip your hand underneath the waistband of your panties in one swift motion, a motion that he’s sure you’ve done hundreds of times before this. his brain swims as he thinks about all of the times you’ve touched yourself in this very room, in this very bed.

your knuckles strain and push at the fabric of your underwear as you play with yourself, your chest rising and falling steadily but with slightly more erraticism than before. heeseung follows in your footsteps and reaches to the thick elastic waistband of his boxers, hesitating for only a second before pushing the garment down to his hips, allowing his hard cock to slap against his tense stomach. he spits in his palm before wrapping his hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a few tentative strokes and watching the way his stomach spasms.

“i don’t think i said this before,” you purr, “but you have a really nice cock heeseung.”

your admittance has heeseung overheating, his cheeks and chest flushing a pretty shade of pink. his stomach twists and churns and he slowly starts to jerk himself knowing that you’re watching his every move, like a vulture stalking its pretty. to distract himself from his own ministrations heeseung looks at you, his gaze travelling from your hand in your panties to your chest to your face where he finds you staring back at him, causing him to quickly look away out of sheer embarrassment of being caught.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself?”

you. obviously.

but he doesn’t say that.

he just remains quiet, his eyes darting from place to place but of course, no answer does not satiate your appetite for knowledge, so you push further.

“do you think about me?”

yes. obviously.

he nods steadily in response before realizing that that simply isn’t a satisfactory response.

“always.” his voice is small yet unwavering.

you smile at his admittance, eyes hazy with desire and your cheek squished against your pillow due to your head being turned towards him. breathy moans and pleas tumble past your lips as you finger yourself, your hips rolling into the heel of your palm. slick wet sounds can be heard both from you and from heeseung, whose precum is aiding in his ability to pump his dick at an increasing speed. the burning pit in his stomach slowly grows and grows and he moans aloud, jolting slightly when the outside of your thigh brushes against his own.

as he feels himself approaching the cusp of an orgasm, the familiar sensation looming closer and closer like a moth drawn to a flame, your hand grabs his arm prompting him to stop, your middle and ring fingers wet against where they’re wrapped around his forearm.

in the next second you’re sitting up, hands grasping the hem of your shirt once again only to fully remove it this time, exposing your back back and tits to him rendering him speechless. you discard your panties as well, leaving you completely bare as you move to straddle heeseung’s tense thighs. all he does is look at you in astonishment, mouth slightly agape.

without thinking heeseung reaches forward and envelops both of your breasts with his big hands, his palms rubbing against your hardened nipples while his fingers gently dig into the soft flesh.

“your tits are perfect,” he rasps, hand moving in circular motions to massage your chest.

“really?” your eyes light up at the compliment.

he nods, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he remains enamoured with your figure. your fingers tickle his sides before grasping at his shirt, tugging at it in a way that tells him you want it off; he sits up and removes the garment before you place a palm on his chest and push him back onto your mattress, the springs making a slight squeak at the force. your eyes rake over heeseung’s bare chest as he lays before you, a shaky exhale leaving him every few seconds or so.

“you’re so handsome lee heeseung.” you compliment.

“even when i’m hungover?”

“even when you’re hungover.”

you crawl over his body, just a little bit, so your hips are unbearably close to his aching cock, the tip an enraged red spilling pearly white beads of precum. heeseung tries his best to not shudder when you wrap your hands around his shaft, moving yourself to be perched directly above his dick. you drag his tip through your folds to be a tease, only when the boy beneath you begins to squirm do you line his cock up wit your dripping hole before sinking down on it ever so slowly, gauging heeseungs reaction with scrutiny. he looks quite pretty, with his eyes screwed shut and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat. once he’s fully inside of you you remain stagnant, hips flush against his own.

heeseung feels like he’s gone limp, his limbs turned to mush and inoperable. he keeps his eyes tightly shut as he becomes accustomed to the feeling of being inside of you, for he knows if he sees you sitting on top of him he’s going to have heart palpitations.

only once heeseungs face slowly starts to relax, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, do you begin to move, gyrating your pelvis against his at a leisurely pace. heeseung can’t help but whimper when he feels you grinding on top of him, his cock throbbing and sensitive inside the warmth of your pussy.

your hands rest on heeseungs chest to help you stabilize yourself, your nails digging into the soft skin covering his pecs and leaving behind deep red marks. heeseungs hands move to grab at your hips and you arch your back in response, teasingly shoving your tits in his face - he takes this as an invitation and pulls you closer to him so he can wrap hips lips around your left nipple, sucking on it while palming the other.

“oh my-, heeseung,” you moan as heeseung continues to play with your breasts eagerly. in response you increase the pace at which your hips are moving at, grinding against him in a fluid, persistent manner that makes heeseungs vision grow warped fuzzy. once again he feels the slow burn of an orgasm take flight in his stomach, slowly ebbing outwards as you work him towards his climax.

the moans and groans leaving him come out muffled due to his mouth still being wrapped around your breast, only detaching once the need for oxygen becomes stronger and stronger and his heart beats faster and faster. your fingers feel hot against his skin as you fuck him raw, the sensation of your cunt constricting around his cock feeling so other worldly that heeseung believes that you and your pussy and your body the only things tethering to him reality.

his name tumbles past your lips in the form of needy whines as your movements slowly become more and more erratic, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you chase your high. all heeseung can do is lie underneath you, his fingers back on your hips while the tantalizing promise of a mind blowing orgasm renders him almost immobile. sweat rolls off of his brows as he pants and groans, hips feebly bucking upwards in an attempt to make him cum faster.

“i’m so close y/n i-” is all he can manage to whimper to let you know that he’s about to finish, about to erupt into a thousand hot white stars. you moan an ‘i know’ in response before reaching down to play with your clit, your cunt tightening around heeseungs cock with each and every flick of your fingers.

you orgasm with a desperate whine, brows furrowed and eyes shut as you keel over heeseung. your pussy flutters around his cock and you manage to pull yourself off of him right before he cums with a cry of your name, spilling his hot sticky seed all over the expanse of his stomach, which twitches and spasms every so often.

the two of you lay side by side as you wait for your heart rates to lower, for your breathing to steady, for the aching in your lower abdomen to cease. there’s a slight ringing in heeseungs ears which slowly subsides overtime, allowing him to listen to the way your pants morph into heavy breathing. in his peripherals he can see your chest, see the way your eyes are heavy with pleasure. you move your hand just enough so that your knuckles trace across the back of heeseungs hand.

the room comes to a standstill, with the sun peeking through the slats in your shades falling across his tainted stomach that rises and falls with each erratic inhale and exhale he takes. you shift to lie on your side so you’re facing heeseung, allowing your fingertips to dance over his clavicle, his neck, his jawline.

bliss.

euphoria.

a happy ending.

a/n: and to think some of y'all didn't believe that i was gonna give you a happy ending.......... what do you have to say for yourselves now huh? HUH??????? here's you're happy ending i'm gonna go cry now bc i'm weirdly emotionally attached to this series.

patience is a virtue taglist: @hello-stranger24 @jainandan @yohanabanana @iamliacamila @nyanggk @chansmaze @beomgyusonlywife

#enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fanfiction #lee heeseung blurbs #lee heeseung imagines #kpop smut

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suugarbabe · 1 year ago

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heyy! you're one of my fav angst writers so I was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle x reader fic where Mattheo enjoys making reader jealous so reader goes out if her way to make mattheo jealous which ends in confessions and perhaps a smutty ending/ fluffy ending? Whatever you see fit! Thank youuuu~

(1) thank you sooo much, if I could I would just write all day long, I'm so glad you like what I put out there

(2) I loooove a jealous Teo 😊; here you go love x

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, oral (f!receiving)

word count: 1.9k

18+ MDNI!! be aware of the content you consume, do not read if you are a minor.

“You know if you glare any harder, you might bore a hole through the man,” Pansy’s comment did nothing to stray your eyes away from the scene in front of you. “Yeah, well he deserves it, he’s doing this shit on purpose. It’s like he gets off on making me jealous.” You watched as Mattheo continued to shamelessly flirt with the Hufflepuff girl seated next to him. She was a giggling mess at basically anything he was saying, “He’s not that funny, she’s being obnoxious.” Pansy snorted at your comment, simply shaking her head. It was when Mattheo tucked a loose strand behind her ear that you felt like your brain was short-circuiting. Pansy saw the look on your face, then followed your eyes to Mattheo and the girl, “Oh he’s in for it now isn’t he.” You let out a huff of frustration, closing your textbook and leaving the classroom.

In your dorm room you were getting ready for the party your house was throwing tonight. Typically you dressed a little more relaxed for parties your house hosts because it’s more homey to you, but tonight you were going full on vixen. You opted for a black mini dress, skin tight and hugging all the right places. You paired it with emerald green heels, a gold necklace adorned with an emerald stone and a gold snake bracelet. You allowed Pansy to do your hair and makeup, making your eyes pop and leaving your hair down your back in bouncing waves, just like you knew your boyfriend liked.

However, he was barely going to touch you tonight. Not until you allowed him to anyway. This morning he fucked around, tonight he was going to find out. When you and Pansy entered the party it was in full swing. You spotted your group of boys in the back corner, and Merlin if Mattheo didn’t look amazing. But you took a deep breath, centering yourself. No matter how good he looked, you had to stick to your plan. Pansy bounced over to Draco, throwing her arms around him and greeting him with a big kiss to his cheek. It was obvious the boys had been drinking for a while before you both got there simply by the reaction Draco had, which was a big smile and giggle.

You walked to the group a little slower. When you approached them, Mattheo’s eyes grew wide. You could see him looking you up and down and you did your best to appear unbothered by this. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, you just hummed in return. He met your eyes, “Something wrong, princess?” You put on a big smile, “No, Teo, nothing is wrong. Why did you do something you shouldn’t have?” He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Erm, no..?” Your mouth fell to a tight line, how could he be so oblivious, or was he still playing the game from earlier? You decided it was your turn now, and glanced around your circle of friends for the perfect accomplice.

Besides your boyfriend, Enzo was your favorite boy in the group. He was always so cheerful, smile plastered on his face regardless of the situation. He was a cute guy, always having his own gaggle of girls following him around, but he never really entertained it. He always seemed more interested in quidditch or parties. When he saw you looking at him his smile grew wider, “Y/n, you look, wow.” You giggled, “Thank you, Enzo, that’s very kind.” If possible his smile grew wider as he took another sip of his drink. Mattheo went to place his hand on your waist possessively, but you pushed him off, instead walking up to Enzo, “You wanna dance with me, Enzo?” Enzo’s eyes flicked to Mattheo but you grabbed hold of Enzo’s jaw, pulling him down to face you, “Please, Enzie, you know Teo never dances with me and I wanna have fun tonight.” You put on your best pout, looking up through your lashes.

You saw his shoulders slack, indicating that you had convinced him. You bounced on your toes, clapping your hands together. You knew the hem on your dress was riding up as you did so, and you could feel Mattheo’s eyes boring a hole in your back. You grabbed Enzo’s hand that wasn’t holding his drink and dragged him to the middle of the dance floor, ignoring any protests you heard from Mattheo as you passed. He looked over at Pansy, eyebrows nearly to the ceiling. Pansy held her hands up in defense, “Maybe if you’re lonely you can ask that Hufflepuff girl to dance?” Mattheo’s lips slowly turned into a smirk, realizing now the game you were playing at.

Once near the middle of the dance floor, you turned your back to Enzo, swaying your hips and grinding against him. He free hand held firm to your waist as you snaked an arm up and around his neck. He let your bodies move against each other before enlightening you, “I know what you’re doing, y/n/n.” You turn to face him, wrapping your hands behind his neck, still dancing with your body pressed to his, “You mean just dancing with one of my best guy friends?” Enzo rolled his eyes, “I know you’re using me as a ploy to make Mattheo jealous. Don’t worry though…” He leaned in closer, whispering against your ear, “He’s been a dick on the quidditch pitch all week so I’ll play along. We can give him a little show if you want.” You nodded your head quickly, then Enzo went straight to work.

As the next song came on Enzo grabbed hold of your waist, fingers dancing just above the curve of your ass. As the beat of the song got stronger, Enzo slotted his leg between yours, guiding you to essentially grind on his thigh. The song was barely a minute in before you felt another arm wrap around your waist and lift you away from your dancing partner. You didn’t even panic, you knew who it was and the way he talked to Enzo had warmth rushing to the pit of your stomach, “I don’t know what the fuck game you’re playing at Lorezno but it’s over.” Enzo held his hands up, “Listen, mate, she asked me to dance. Who am I to tell her no?” Mattheo grumbled some form of ‘fuck you’ back to him as he carried you to the edge of the dance floor and towards the stairs leading up to the dorms.

“Exactly where are we going? I’m not done dancing, nor drinking. There’s like the whole night left to party,” You were struggling against Matteo’s grip now, which only tightened with your fighting. “Oh, you’re done with the party, princess. You wanted to act like a little slut with my friend, well now I’m going to treat you like a slut.” You gasped as he threw you down on his bed, “Excuse me, sir, but Enzo is my friend too. And I wasn’t acting like a slut…we were just dancing.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, pushing you back on to the bed and crawling over you. He dipped his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin making you gasp, “You don’t dance like that with my friends.”

He nipped and sucked at the skin of your neck, “O-our friend.” You barely got the words out, Mattheo’s hands trailing down your sides and playing with the hem of your dress. “Do you want our friend to be here right now because if you’d rather he help you out,” Mattheo dragged his middle finger up your clothed center, “I’m sure he’d kill to feel how wet he got you.” You tried to buck your hips towards him, tried to gain any friction possible, “N-not for him, all for you T-Teo.” He hummed, trailing his lips up your neck and along your jaw, “F’me, hmm? But you’ve barely been by me all night.” He was toying with you now, thumb drawing circles over your bundle of nerves, not nearly applying the pressure you needed. You shook your head, “Only was thinking of you, wanted, ah, wanted to make you jealous.”

Mattheo hooks his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down agonizingly slow. You tug at the sides of your dress, allowing it to bunch up around your waist, “You wanting me to do something, love?” Mattheo looks up at you, eyes dancing with deviance. You tangle your fingers in his hair, “Need you, Teo.” He growled lowly at the wine in your tone, “What do you need from me, princess? Use your words.” You tugged at his curls, “Mouth, need your mouth on me.” He toys with you now, laying on his stomach, smoothing his palms up your legs, squeezing the flesh of your thighs before placing a kiss to each one, “Here?”

You buck your hips toward him, causing him to flatten a palm against your hip, keeping you still. Without warning he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your center. You let out a choked gasp, head falling back against the pillow, “Oh, there? Is that what you want, princess?” You open your mouth to respond when he does it again, this time pressing his thumb down on your clit as he does so. “Loss for words now, hmm? But you were talking such a big game earlier.” You want to glare at him, to tell him to fuck off but the way his mouth feels on you is pure bliss.

Your nails scratch on his scalp and the growl he releases sends vibrations straight to your core. He grips your thighs tighter, surely causing bruises but in the moment you can’t get yourself to care. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard as he plunges three fingers knuckle deep into you. Your back arches off the bed, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Teo, don’t stop, please.”

You can feel the smirk on his face as he works his fingers just slightly faster, the knot in the pit of your stomach becoming tighter with each curl, each lick, each twist. Your hips roll against in face, grip tightening in his hair until you’re practically using him, riding his tongue and chasing your high and the feeling gets tighter and tighter and then the rubber band snaps, your mouth drops open and a chorus of praises mixed with his name leave your mouth. And he lets your ride it out on his tongue, on his fingers, but even when you begin to settle he doesn’t stop. He pushes against the sensitive nerves and you feel like you’re going to black out from the pleasure as he demands a second release from you before you can even stop it, not that you would even want to at this point. As you catch your breath you chance a look down at him between your thighs, catch him rub a thumb across his lips, gathering your arousal and sucking it off. You smile at him and he just grins at you, a lovestruck look on his face, “If this is my punishment I’m gonna have to make you jealous more often.” You were teasing, but slightly serious. Mattheo crawls over you, face hovering just above yours now, “Oh darling, I’m just getting started.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle one shot #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you

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primaviva · 1 year ago

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PAIRING: gwen stacy x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: how you met, confessions, and relationship headcanons for your favorite ghost-spider. gwen stacy.

WARNINGS: me rambling about gwen, kissing, some suggestive but no smut ofc, height difference, some angst but mostly fluff, gwen is so fine and pretty and 5’7 that’s not even a warning she’s just sooo?? also not spell checked

— FIRST MEETING YOU

this all started out as a hallway crush.

she saw you in the halls and thought your style was cute but she never got a good luck at your face

you were a new student and was getting the rundown of the building and where your classes were

so when she walks into class the next day and sees you sitting next to her? with a better view of your face?

she folded.

CAN YOU BLAME HER? you’re so beautiful she literally forgets how to put words into proper sentences

gwen can be socially awkward in situations she’s not prepared for but she’s never acted shy talking to others and always acts like such a tough and cool girl… just not around you

she was acting mad dumb i can’t even lie to you

her words always came out and in the wrong order like yo you would have to get a descrambler to translate her whole sentence because she would just get caught so off guard looking into your gorgeous eyes and your cute smile and your- she could go on.

“gwen? earth to gwen? hello-“ peter kept calling to try and get the blondes attention. his annoyance soon turned into a smirk as he realized just what has her full attention. you.

“you know if you actually talked to her you, guys would probably become friends and you wouldn’t have to admire the back of her head every day” he teased which brought gwen right back to reality.

she didn’t really know you yet, but she wanted to. she just got so shy around you it was uncommon. gwen blushed at the sound of peter's teasing words. she knew that he was right - if she just talked to you, she might actually have a chance to get to know you. but every time she tried to muster up the courage to approach you, her nerves got the best of her. she couldn't help but feel self-conscious around someone she admired so much.

as peter continued to make jokes at her, gwen ouldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and frustration. she didn't want to be known as the girl who couldn't talk to her crush, but she also didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of you. taking a deep breath to calm herself down, she made a silent vow to try and talk to you the next chance she got. Maybe with a little bit of practice, she could get over her shyness and make a real connection with the person who had captured her attention.

little did gwen know that you thought she was cute herself and wanted to get to know her

even luckier for her that YOU wanted to make the first move

today's class was more boring than ever, but when did you ever have high expectations and the word fun in the same sentence about a math class. you kept noticing gwen looking at you every other moment and decided it was time to “break the ice.”

“hey, i like your eyebrow piercing! it’s really cool…and cute,” you said, smiling warmly at her.

the only thought in gwens mind? SHE SAID SHE LOVES MY PIERCING AND IM COOL ND CUTE WHAT THE FU-

gwen was taken aback by the compliment and also your sudden interest in her, her heart raced as she felt the familiar fuzzy feeling in her chest grow when you looked at her. “o-oh? this? thank you. i got it a while ago,” she replied, feeling her shyness begin to melt away.

“it really fits-” you tried to finish but the teacher yelled at both of you for speaking during her lesson. you both quieted down but glanced at each other and let a snicker out.

“do you even know what’s happening right now?” you asked in a hushed tone.

“no clue, and im pretty sure it’s been a decade or two since she’s last picked up a protractor,” she joked, making you giggle so hard you had to cover your mouth.

gwen thought update? I MADE HER LAUGH I MADE HER LAUGH

best believe she was so proud of herself that day

and she still feels a warmth spread to her cheeks when you slapped her shoulder telling her to stop making the witty comments before you piss yourself or you two get in trouble

— BECOMING FRIENDS AND THE CONFESSION

gwen and you eventually got closer

so close that you guys begun to hangout outside of school with the plus one of peter to ease gwen into it

but those group hangouts turned into solos…and those trips to the mall turned into you hanging out in her room in her bed…

and the tension was thick.

the way you two brushed shoulders, how your hands would touch when you reached for the same thing, looking at each other for longer than needed

you could imagine how painful this was for peter to watch. IMAGINE HOW BAD IT WAS FOR GEORGE TO WATCH

even her dad caught on to the way gwen would look at you when she invited you over to her house for dinner with peter that one time and she was staring at you so hard while you talked to him that he thought his daughter was gonna have hearts come flying out of her eye sockets

in order for gwen to like somebody and want be in a relationship with them, she needs to have a emotional connection with them too

she wants somebody who puts up with her, who understands her, who accepts her, and a shoulder to lean on to.

especially with her living her double life as the heroine of new york?

it definitely caused problems as the two do you got closer and reached the best friend mark

she began flaking on hangouts, not answering calls or texts, acting mad sketchy with her lying which you so easily noticed

but you didn’t force her. you didn’t make her explain when you saw her face drop at your questions.

you understood it was personal and instead just gave her a hug around the neck whispering in her ear that you’ll always be a shoulder to lean on and be there for her

she wrapped her arms around your waist tightly and reciprocated the hug as she buried her head in the crook of your neck as an attempt to try and stop the strong urge to cry…that’s when she knew you were the one.

one of the common things you both bonded over was music and that’s when she found it fit to tell you bout the band she’s in

when she told you about how she was in the mary janes and was their drummer you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make her 10x cooler in your eyes and attractive

gwen decided it was time to tell you about how she truly felt about you. she has played the drums for years, so when her band got the opportunity to play at a venue, she was thrilled to tell you about it.

she invited you, peter, and her dad to the show. before she even went backstage to prepare she saw a glimpse of you in the front row all dolled up for her and her heart skipped a beat at what she was planning.

the show was spectacular. song after song after song the music was catchy and addicting and you couldn’t help but stare at gwen so in her element. if only you knew the struggle for her to not glimpse up at you and see you dancing and smiling to the songs. when it ended and everybody got the chance to go up to her they all praised her. you went up and hugged her, telling her how amazing she was but before she could reply to you she was called backstage by her band for cleanup. the last thing she saw was you waving at her with a smile.

she wasn’t going to back out if this tho. she was going to to confess to you. you ended up going backstage after seeing the rest of her band leave but noticing she didn’t leave with them.

“i really did mean it when i said you were amazing, gwen. i had no idea you were that talented,” you complimented, making her jump a little at the sudden sound of your voice. she turned around with a flustered look as you just giggled at the reaction you got from her. ‘there goes that feeling again’ she thought as the familiar pounding in her chest started and heat began to rise to her cheeks.

“you doubted me before?” she teased, getting herself back into reality. “nah, not at all.”

you were gonna be the death of her.

“look, i don’t know how to say this but i didn’t just invite you here to watch my show. it’s not like i didn’t want you to come it’s just- ugh..” she signed, glancing up from her fidgeting hands to meet your eyes, you were watching her intently, listening to what she has to say.

“i know we’ve been friends for a while and i don’t want to ruin what we have and i just need to tell you that…that i have a crush on you and i really like you,” she confessed, her voice lacking it’s usual confidence and barley above a whisper.

in her nervousness she ended up blabbing on saying how she understands if you don’t feel the same way and sorry she did this to you and it’s completely ok if you don’t want to talk to her again- meanwhile she can’t hear you saying you like her back.

that’s until you grab her by the hands and forcefully grab her attention. her eyes stare into yours confused at the smile beaming on your face.

“gwen, i like you too.”

gwen was frozen in shock she didn’t even believe her reality even tho it was happening right in front of her

she was literally baffled when she looked down at you and saw how close the two of you were

— DATING GWEN

she didn’t ask you to be her girlfriend right away

she took you on a date to a pizza place because she wanted it to be casual and then after you guys walked around going to corner stores

y’all walked into a radio store that had a bunch of vinyls, cds, literally everything and you saw gwens eyes light up at the sight

she would tell you about certain bands, how they compose their music, etc and even if you knew the band you would still let her tell you because you loved how happy she looked talking about her interests

she def recommended you new songs for your playlist and said she would play them on the drums for you sometime

anything you saw in the stores that you liked gwen would buy for you in an instant

the night would come to an end and she would walk you to your house or even go on the commute home with you if you took the bus

if only gwen checked the weather because none of you came with an umbrella for the torrential raining that was waiting for you both

gwen ended up giving you her jacket because you were cold and she didn’t want you getting sick

as she walked you home after your fate, the rain began pouring down. “here, take my jacket,” gwen said, slipping out of it and putting it around you.

"are you sure?" you asked, knowing damn well you wanted it.

"yeah, i don't want you to get sick and catch pneumonia," gwen joked as you both laughed.

you both continued walking down your block until you reached your place. before you could say your goodbyes, gwen stopped walking and held you by the hand which made you stop as well.

"hey, before you go inside, there's something i really want to ask you," she said, taking a deep breath.

you looked at her curiously, "hm, what is it?"

gwen took a moment before finally blurting out, "can i be your girlfriend- or er..will you be my girlfriend?"

your eyes widened in surprise before a smile spread across your face. "for real? gwen, yes i would love to," you replied.

a big, dumb smile made its way onto gwen's face at your answer. you wanted to make her smile even bigger.

you walked up to her and cupped her cheek, lowering her down to your height so your eyes met. you leaned in, giving gwen a gentle kiss on the cheek as your cold lips met her warm skin.

she was on cloud 9, so much so she didn’t even care that you took her jacket.

you kept that jacket of course

and she LOVES seeing it on you.

— RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

gwen is so loyal and loving to you

she’s not the best at affection at first but she gets better at it

her love languages are AND IN THIS ORDER : acts of service, physical affection, words of affirmation

like i said, she isn’t the best at first with affection and don’t even get me started on her fear of initiating kisses…

to compensate for that she shows that she loves you through giving you her jacket when she’s cold, bending down to tie your shoes so you don’t have to, buying you things you want (this includes if you take certain meds like for my pcos people: birth control, iron, etc if she can she will pick it up for you so you can relax at home), and sm more

if you mention a place you wanna go? you both are there INSTANTLY

it’s just part of how good she listens to you

with physical affection it starts off slow with hugs

she may be tense at first even if you guys hugged as friends it’s just so different now for her

but she’ll slowly go from hugging you back, to your waist, and get comfortable enough to put her hands on your hips

she’ll rub circles on your thighs, back, arm and won’t even notice

she’s a big spoon.

she doesn’t mind being the little spoon, especially after a long day when she just wants to throw herself onto you

gwen was tired patrolling the city as spiderwoman. she had been on her feet all day, and all she wanted to do was see you, collapse on your bed, and rest. since you weren’t aware of her secret identity yet, she did a quick stop at her place to change close before she went to see you.

she knocked and you opened the door in an instant as she had texted you beforehand she was coming by and you were waiting impatiently to see your girlfriend. you took gwen up by the hand to your room and laid on the bed asking her about her day as she set her bag down with no reply.

without a second thought, gwen padded over to the bed and climbed on top of you, laying her head on your chest. you giggled and wrapped your legs around gwen’s waist, pulling her closer.

“tired girl had a rough day?” you teased, looking down at her head buried in your chest. "mhmm, you have no idea. i just need to rest for a little bit,” she replied, snuggling closer into you as if you guys weren’t skin to skin already.

you guys sat there for a couple moments enjoying each others company and the warmth you both provided to each other. that was until gwen’s weight became too much for you.

you tapped her back a couple times, "okay, okay, you're crushing me. get off!"

gwen, feeling mischievous, refused to budge. she flexed her muscles and held her ground, playfully messing with you and refusing to move.

"what, you can't handle a little weight? come on, show me what you've got," she challenged, her voice raspy and low from being tired.

“you’re such a menace gwen! if you don’t get your 5’7 goliath self off of me-” you groaned out, pretending to struggle. but it was clear that gwen's muscles were too strong for you. “fine, fine! you win. you’re too strong for me… and heavy,” you admitted in defeat.

"that's right. you better remember that,” she joked, shifting her body to make it less heavy on you. “i will, damn. just come here.”

gwen relented and got off you. an hour after tho.

she also likes words of affirmation because sometimes she has self doubt of if she even deserves to have you or if she treats you right

the last thing she wants is for you to feel neglected or unloved because of her secret duty as spiderwoman

she’s not a fan of super cheesy pet names and plus you both are teens going into young adult so she def ain’t pulling no “honey where’s my super suit” frozone shit on you

she doesn’t like using baby, she thinks it’s cringe

her favorite n most common pet names for you beside calling you your name is babe, my girl, beautiful, gorgeous and anything that doesn’t sound like a middle aged couple

random but she fidgets with your hands like she plays with them when she’s cuddling with you and in deep thought or when she’s just bored

gwen also isn’t too big on pda

in public she’ll hold your hand and give you quick kisses but never will she ever start eating your face at lockers before class im sorry to say this to you

gwen is super protective tho she’ll hold you waist and guide you through a crowd

like she will walk you to class and give you a quick kiss but major pda is just cringe and uncomfortable for her

trust she’s all over you in private, public just isn’t for her

but this girl is the EMBODIMENT of wlw hand placement

you like how calloused and rough her hands feel because it reflects her personality being a drummer and all but also her love for music, the reason for why her hands are so tough

y’all could be cuddling or just sitting next to each other watching tv and all of a sudden her arm is around your shoulder and her hand is laying on your chest inches away from your boobs

or another time she let you sit on her lap and while you’re there she’s rubbing her hands up and down from your waist to your thigh to your knee and back up again where she’ll caress the curves of your waist and all around

HAND PLACEMENT!!!

and trust she will have a firm grip on your hip to hold you down closer

she doesn’t mean it in a sexual way tho she wouldn’t mind it getting suggestive and turning it into a makeout if you love her touch that much

it’s just that she’s a touchy person and loves to have a hand on you just to feel you there

speaking of kisses…gwen loves them

she’s just too shy to initiate.

you just make her nervous like she’s very secure in your guys relationship and is comfortable but you’re just so pretty and she loves you sm she doesn’t want you to hate it-

as you two got closer you saw glimpses of into her life you never would have seen before. but you also saw glimpses of gwen’s other life, which she didn’t want you to see. not just yet.

you and gwen had a date at the park, you just wanted to do something peaceful with her since she seemed bothered with something lately, and whatever it was she avoided telling you in the slightest.

it didn’t help that when she finally showed up she had a black and blue at the side of her lip with bruised knuckles.

you went up and hugged her tightly, her hands running up and down your back as you pulled away and sat her next to you on the bench. “gwen, what the hell? are you ok? where were you?” you questioned.

gwen just scratched the back of her neck anxiously ready to spew out another excuse to you. “my dad needed me to pick up some groceries last minute. but me being stupid trying to rush, i tripped and fell down some stairs haha,” she lied through her teeth. “what’s crazy is that you think im stupid enough to believe that,” you answered, eyes squinted as you stared into her.

as the moments passed in silence, gwen's heart raced with anxiety. she knew that she had messed up by lying to her girlfriend, but she couldn't bring herself to reveal the truth about her secret life just yet. finally, she spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper.

“i’m sorry," gwen said, her eyes still fixed on the ground. "i shouldn't have lied to you, but k just… i’m not ready to share everything with you yet. It's complicated."

you took her hand and squeezed it gently. "i understand that, gwen. i don't expect you to share everything with me right away. but just please, don't lie to me. i just want to be here for you and support you, no matter what. i can wait for you as long as you need me to until you're ready.”

gwen felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. she’s never felt so seen and understood by anyone before. she was so grateful to have you as her girlfriend.

"thank you," she said, her eyes meeting yours for the first time since she arrived at the park.

gwen squeezed your hand back, looking down at your lips and the beautiful smile displayed on them, then back to your eyes.

without a word you both started to lean in. when you both were inches apart and you felt her breath on your lips, she locked eyes with you as you felt the anticipation before closing her own and kissing you passionately. it was soft and sweet, but there was an electricity between them that made gwen's heart race. when you both pulled away, you looked at each other with wide eyes and big smiles.

"wow," gwen said, still feeling a bit breathless. you chuckled softly, "yeah, wow…you have such a way with words.” gwen laughed, feeling a sense of lightness and joy that she had never felt before.

"i can't believe we just did that," she said. "me neither," you replied. "but I'm really glad we did." gwen felt a sense of warmth spread through her chest.

"me too.”

you both sat in silence for a moment, still holding hands. gwen's mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts and emotions, she didn't know how to articulate them all. but what she did know is that she would come clean to you about her double life, just when she’s ready. like you said.

her kisses are gentle and sweet

at the beginning of the relationship they were quick or just pecks on the lip but now? she loves to just hold you in place while deepening a kiss and she doesn’t mind if it gets sloppy she just wants to feel your love every way she can

she’ll kiss all over your body

kisses to your legs, kisses littered on your thighs, kisses down your neck, kisses to your temple, a soft kiss to the forehead, you name it she will press her lips against it and kiss it

she likes to make out…like a lot

it’s not in a way where she wants to do it every time she sees you, she just likes how slow you two can go and revel in each others company and how she can feel her lips on yours and her tongue kissing the inside of your mouth

bonus points if she gets you in her lap or straddling her waist so she can hug you, feel you, push your back forward with her hand to press you closer to her

she can get flustered about it, especially that one time she was so into it that when she pulled away a thin string of saliva kept the two of you connected

but that’s a fic for another time

she’ll lick your bottom lip for entrance and when she feels like messing with you she’ll bite it

and she does love kissing your neck down to your chest and plenty multiple kisses on your chest

i don’t think she would do hickies tho unless by accident but when she does it’s not anywhere visible because she does NOT want her father seeing allat

ANYWAYS she eventually tells you about her secret identity and she really stresses out about it

like she’s crying on the verge of violent sobs and you tell her that you love her for the first time even if it’s as mind baffling as it is

the “i love you” bit doesn’t make it any better considering she’s now an even more emotional wreck

gwen took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to tell her girlfriend the truth about her secret life as the ghost-spider.

she knew it was a risk, but she couldn't keep lying to the person she loved.

"i have to tell you something," gwen said, her voice shaking slightly. "i'm spiderwoman. i fight crime and protect the city. i know it’s hard to believe but it’s true. and it’s who i am."

your eyes widened in surprise, but then she smiled. "i had a feeling there was more to your life than you were letting on," you said. "gwen if you think this is gonna make me run away from you im almost offended. i didn’t even know you were taking this up all on your own and im definitely not letting it stay that way. im here for you, always. gwen i… i love you,"

gwen felt a weight lifted off her shoulders as she saw the acceptance and love in her girlfriend's eyes. "thank you," she said, feeling tears of relief and joy welling up in her eyes.

it was like gwens ghost astral projected into heaven and came back down. she was in disbelief and immediately pulled you into her arms, telling you how much she loved and appreciated you too. the tears threatened to fall. and they did.

you’re relationship after that was just as strong

when she got hurt as spiderwoman, she would visit you through the window for you to patch her up

just in general now that you knew, she would pull up to your place anytime if she wanted to see you

she would shoot you a quick text about it tho…it just may be while she’s already outside

and the text may read “babe open your window pls”

she’ll even come during the middle of the night if she can’t sleep but for this she will actually text you to see if you’re up. she’s not gon break into your home and sneak into your bed she is not miguel on some daddy daycare meets freaky friday type foolery

she loves sleeping with you because you provide her so much comfort and clear her mind

there is nothing that could bring her to sleep faster than her holding you in her strong grasp, hands around your waist, and her head in the crook of your neck while you string your fingers through her hair

she’s just so whipped for you like she may not act like it in front of you but to others it’s very clear that you have her wrapped around your pretty finger

she literally spontaneously combusts when she sees you in her clothes

because of you being the height that you are and gwen basically being a giant compared to you, her clothes tend to be big on you

which she loves

you just look better than her in her own clothes

and DONT think she doesn’t take your clothes too, because she does

sweaters, shirts, pants, SHOES…she’s a thief and she knows it

bonus points if the clothes she take still smell like you and your signature perfume, it makes her blush

sometimes when you two plan a date she stops because she likes to see the thought process behind your outfits and help you with your look if you ask

truly she’s there to admire you

one time she came and your guardian answered saying you were upstairs so she opened the door and you weren’t even fully dressed it was a skirt and your bra on while you were in the mirror deciding between a pink shirt and another

gwen freaked out and slammed the door muttering like eighteen apologizes but you told her it was ok for her to come in but when she did she couldn’t look you in the eye for too long and stared at her feet so she didn’t die of embarrassment

she chose the pink top.

but she loves when you wear her clothes out like not even as pajamas so you can sleep soundly to the smell of gwen

especially if you two are on a date and you wear one of her jackets it just feels like you’re truly hers

and it lets others know too

“hey ladies, mind if i join?” the guy asked, sliding onto the barstool next to you both.

gwen leaned closer to you as you turned to her with an awkward smile, a clear sign of discomfort that she didn’t like one bit.

"actually, we do mind. we were just enjoying some alone time," your girlfriend snapped at the guy.

the airhead didn't seem to catch on, and instead turned his attention to you. "so, what's your name?" he asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort.

gwen felt a twinge of annoyance, but tried to remain polite. "i’m (y/n), and this is my girlfriend," you said, nodding towards her. “yeah im gwen, her girlfriend,” she said in a low, rough tone, her eyes dark with frustration. gwen ightened her grip on her girlfriend's waist, silently daring the guy to make another move.

silence fell at the info drop of you two being together.

then he finally got the hint.

"oh? ohhhhh… didn't realize you two were a couple” he replied blankly, still not leaving.

"yeah well, now you know," gwen said firmly, placing a protective arm around your shoulders. "but we're going to go back to our date now, so if you'll excuse us…”

when gwen is jealous she immediately gives to person glares of death like literally staring daggers into them

her jealousy doesn’t even stem from another person just talking to you like don’t get her wrong, she loves your attention! but she’s not gonna side eye anybody just because they shook your hand in told you good job or if a classmate needed help with something

no, her jealousy comes from when she KNOWS people want you

she can’t blame them you’re literally gorgeous in every way and you guys aren’t a “in your face” type couple but you never deny being together

so when somebody starts trying to flirt with you or make any advances she usually goes quiet because she trusts you know how to take care of yourself and handle a weirdo or two

if she’s there she’ll put a hand on the small of your back or around your waist

she gets involved only when you start showing signs of discomfort at the person talking to you

she won’t stand for it.

she’ll tell them off and if worse comes to worse she WILL fight a mf for you and accept the consequences later

it just all comes from a place of wanting to protect you

you mean so much to her and after everything she’s lost she doesn’t want you to be one of those

that’s why she tries to keep you out of her spiderwoman lifestyle as much as possible because if she found out you got hurt or she put you in danger because you were dating her, gwen could never forgive herself even if you could

overall, gwen is the most loving girlfriend, wants to give you the world, and will try to. you just understand her so well and are so patient, who can blame her for looking at you like you hung the moon and stars? because to her, you did.

A/N: hey so this is my first time posting on tumblr because i noticed the drought under gwen x reader and decided imma feel this shit up so im writing a oneshot next and my requests are open <33 ty for reading i hoped it quenched y’all thirst

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lushlovers · 2 years ago

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The P-word, J Burrow

summary; he doesn't know what to say or how to react to things like this.

warnings; fluff fr, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy tests, pet names (baby, honey, ) joe actually kinda sucks with words but same lmaoooo, swearing, kissing

word count; 903

note; yes angst but also fluff. i'm working on more frat!lsu!joey, but this was something random I wanted to post since it's been a little while. i hate the ending no one talk about it. winter writer's block ain't no joke fr.

this is kind of my thank you for two hundred followers even though we are just on the cusp of three, but thank you so much, I appreciate the support of my works more than you will ever know. i love every one of my followers so so sooo much yall are the best:)

Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. Maybe the more you think of those eight letters will fade away and completely off the little plastic at-home test you decided to finally take. God the word just keeps ringing in your head like the most annoying of alarms. How the hell are you supposed to tell him? His career's just started he'll never be along for the roller coaster ride, especially not when it consists of a baby running around as well.

However, luck chooses to be your opponent this evening since Joe's already home and sitting on the couch in the living room, completely oblivious to the fact that your world has just turned completely upside down. It took a while for you to work up the nerve to call him up, but when you did everything suddenly felt so heavy.

The weight refused to leave your shoulders as he sat on the truck at the foot of your bed. Rehearing in the mirror, preparing for every scenario, but especially for the one that you hope and pray will never occur. Everything that you've been through together, nothing will go wrong, he's too good of a person.

After several minutes, worry becomes evident in your voice as he asks you through the door if everything's alright, "'M fine, just nervous, I guess." That seemed to do the opposite of what you intended, that is, maybe your lying and saying you're fine would shut him up for a bit, but your being nervous led to many other questions from the other side of the door.

Adding on to that p-word, every what if clouds your mind as well. What if telling him this is your biggest regret? What if he just packs his shit and leaves? What if-, "Baby, are you sure?" Fucks sake he's still going with his questions, in any less stressful situation this would've been appreciated, but not when you can barely seem to focus on the most topic at hand.

Now or never, seemed to be the only thing that got you to push open the door and finally face the man you love so dearly. He almost instantly jumps up, concern written all over his face even more so when he glances in the direction of your hands. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on?" No, not entirely, you think but you won't let that escape your mouth, matter of fact, nothing leaves your mouth for many seconds. Maybe never was a good idea.

It took a bit for you to unscramble your words and finally speak up, "I'm gonna tell you something, but you have to try not to freak out." Your mouth felt dry the way your anxiety made your throat close up made it feel like your lungs had shrunk five times the size they were before, "Okay, care to share? I'm like shitting my pants right now," Joe spoke, chuckling but not because it was funny, he laughs because he's terrified of what words may escape your lips.

You do everything you can to avoid his eyes because the all too familiar feeling of tears surfaces on your waterline and his brows furrow at that. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything, yeah?" His question is lost to you as he cups your face thumbing away the tears before they got a chance to slip down your cheeks. The feeling of his eyes searching yours for any answer to all the questions that he's thinking about is a scary feeling.

"I'm pregnant," it comes out as a whisper, but the way the color completely drains from his face, you know he understood every syllable of those two words. For a split second, he stares at you with a look you don't think you've ever received from him before, "That's... wow." A strangled breath of half relief and half worry escapes you at his response.

Your soul leaves your body as he racks his brain for something to say to express just how he's feeling, but he's almost certain there is no possible way to verbally explain it. Now tears are welling up in his pretty blue eyes, "That's insane, I dunno what to say, are you sure?" His voice is trembling just as much as his hands as you place the test into his palm, he gets choked up as he reads over the same word that had your stomach in knots before with nothing but admiration and surprise.

"Holy fucking shit," he gapes, pulling you into him so tight it nearly knocks the wind right out of you. You laugh now as it settles into your mind that Joe would never do anything to hurt you or your baby in any way possible and to think he would ever leave in a situation like this one was silly, but thinking irrationally tends to happen quite a lot.

"I'm gonna be a dad, I need to call-" you cut him off before he's able to go on his rant, "How about we pause, and we can tell whoever we want in the most extravagant, Joseph Burrow way possible?" He snorts at that, pulling his face away from his place against your shoulder, muffling some form of agreement against your lips, then your jaw, neck, and clavicle, and lowering himself to his knees.

For a moment he looks up at you, "Sorry if I scared you with my response, I don't usually know what to say in times like this and my brain went into shock mode."

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x you #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow oneshot #joe burrow blurb #nfl fan fic

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heartforbangtan · 10 days ago

Text

The only exception | 3

Series Summary: What are the consequences of having your first kiss with your best friend?

Pairing: Park Jimin X Female Reader

Genre: Dancer AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Mutual Pining

Chapter Count: 3 /? (ongoing)

Word count: 6,8k+

Content Warnings: explicit mature content

A/N: sooo sorry for the delay. A lot of things have happened in my life lately, besides a looot of college exams 😭😭 I hope you're still with me 🥺🥺

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I'm sorry that I hurt you It's something I must live with everyday And all the pain I put you through I wish that I could take it all away And be the one who catches all your tears That's why I need you to hear The reason - Hoobastank

Current days

Seoul, South Korea

The truth is that you have depended emotionally on Jimin for a long time and only now do you realize it. This situation has two sides of the coin: one, you feel happy to have had someone to count on, someone who made the mood less heavy for you; two, you feel guilty for having depended so much on him for so long.

You wonder if maybe that was the reason Jimin left. Maybe he was fed up with your problems and didn't know how to say he didn't want to be a part of it anymore.

As the years passed, with maturity and the search for psychological help, you were able to understand many things.

Today you are no longer bothered by your parents' problems. Living away from home for a few years has helped you to get away from the black hole that was their problems.

Your life took a different direction and, to be honest, it became much lighter. But there was still something inside you that needed to be finished.

You avoided talking about this in therapy, but at times it came to the surface. Another thing that therapy helped you see: despite all the chaos that your life became as a teenager, you managed to find something good in it. Today you can recognize it: you were madly in love with Jimin. But who wouldn't be? He was simply perfect, even at such a young age.

All the fun times you had together, plus the times he helped you so much, couldn't have resulted in anything other than you falling in love with him.

However, now Jimin was on another level and you no longer belonged to his world like before. Despite this, you couldn't help yourself not to think about him most of the time.

And you hate your head for it. How could you keep thinking about him even after he was gone?

Many of your feelings were being revived and turned upside down with this new reality of working side by side with him.

When they say, temporary pleasure helps fuel your loneliness, they’re not lying.

And that's what you're doing now.

On top of him, with his cock buried inside you, it kind of makes you forget about your whole life. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on the pleasure you're feeling.

“Y/n, look at me…” Taehyung says, but you ignore him.

Looking at him shatters the illusion, and as fragile as it is, the illusion is all you have.

“Y/n, please.”

You start to ride him harder, stopping him from talking any further. Your pussy contracts, the familiar pleasure building inside your belly.

Taehyung knows what you're thinking. And he doesn't mind being your outlet sometimes. It's not like he has feelings for you like that. But he would like you to at least look at him while you're having sex

He gives up trying to make you look at him. Taehyung grabs your waist and throws your body against the bed. The sudden change in position makes you open your eyes in fright. And for a moment you think that maybe he had had enough of your nonsense.

But he opens your legs and positions himself in the middle again. Adjusting the condom on his member, he directs himself back inside you.

The wonderful feeling of being filled by him in this different position makes you roll your eyes. Taehyung is pleased to know that you are enjoying it. His fingers begin to caress your clit, encouraging you to get closer to orgasm.

His breathing is heavy, slowly releasing hoarse moans. Taehyung can feel you tightening around him and he knows you're close to cumming.

His hips don't stop, slamming into you deliciously while his long fingers don't stop on your clit. Your fingers grip the sheets around you, making your knuckles white as you squeeze tightly. You can no longer control your moans, feeling that you are close to cumming.

“Tae, I'm going to-”

The combination of his moans and the sound of your skin slapping together makes you go crazy, the orgasm hitting you in strong waves.

Your legs tighten around his hips, pressing him against your body to keep him deep inside you.

“Wow…”

Taehyung can't control his moans as he feels you cumming around him. The scene is so erotic for him, that it pushes him to the peak, cumming along with you. The temporary pleasure feels so good that it almost makes everything seem perfect.

He kisses your forehead and gets off, going to discard the used condom.

You're a mess in bed. Your hair is spread out on the pillow and your body is sticky. When Taehyung comes back from your bedroom suite, you look at him with hungry eyes.

“You're so hot.”

He gives you that half-embarrassed, half-smug smile and joins you in bed.

“What were you thinking?”

You cover your body with the blanket and turn to face him in bed. You don’t know exactly what you were thinking. Maybe you were trying to focus solely on what you were doing, instead of getting lost in your thoughts and suddenly losing the mood.

“Nothing, I was trying to focus.”

“Why? Don’t I satisfy you enough?”

You get a little surprised by his words. You go over to him and throw your weight on top of his body.

“Of course you satisfy me. My legs are still shaking from just now.”

Taehyung smiles and he looks cute when he smiles. You can’t help but smile too.

“Then why did you need to focus?” His voice is soft and soothing, making you relax. You lay your head on his chest and breathe deeply in the scent of his masculine skin

“I don’t know, I’m just really stressed with work. Sorry about that.”

Taehyung starts to play with your hair, running his fingers through the strands and smoothing them.

“You don’t need to apologize, I just want to know what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

Your head hurts a little, thinking about all the things that have happened this week in your life. You consider whether you should tell Taehyung what is stressing you out so much that you can barely focus on having sex with him. You feel bad for him, because sex with him is incredible and you can't complain about the countless times he has made you tremble after several rounds.

But now you are feeling a whirlwind of emotions and it is bothering you, you can’t allow yourself to feel these emotions. An immense dissatisfaction, a desire to go out and shout at everyone for no apparent reason.

“How was your week?” His voice disconnects you from your thoughts.

“I’m working with Jimin”

You close your eyes and wait for him to be surprised or some other reaction you can’t imagine.

“Hm, that’s unexpected. How are you feeling?”

To be honest, Taehyung already kind of knew about the whole situation. Ever since Jimin returned to Seoul after his performance trips, they’ve been talking more regularly. He just doesn’t think it would be ideal to tell you about it now, so he’s hoping you’ll tell him what’s bothering you first.

You lift your head from his chest and study him for a few seconds. He seems to be sincere and your heart softens.

“Strange.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“Not exactly. We agreed to meet today.”

“That’s good.”

You raise an eyebrow doubtfully at Taehyung.

“What? I don’t know what else to say.”

“I don’t know either, honestly.”

You two stay silent for a few seconds, you just listening to his heartbeat with your head resting on his chest.

"Well, what time are you guys meeting?"

Your mind is somewhere else, but when you hear Taehyung's question your eyes widen.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” You get up quickly, not caring that you are naked, and start looking for your cell phone that is somewhere scattered among the clothes you threw on the floor.

You still have about an hour to get ready and leave.

“Thank God, there’s still time.”

“Do you want to take a shower?”

You turn and look at him and Taehyung is giving you a mischievous look. You get the message.

“Round two?” you ask.

And he’s already getting off the bed, heading towards you while you run to your bathroom laughing.

The discomfort between the two of you is noticeable to anyone who looks at you for more than 10 seconds.

Jimin shifts uncomfortably in his chair in front of you. He looks at you, his blond hair falling a little over his eyes.

You hold back the urge to sigh, because it's unbelievable that he could look so handsome with a hair color so different from his real shade. It's almost like he was born to be blond.

This isn't good for your mental health. Having him so close and so irresistibly handsome does things to your head and you have to remember why you're here.

“I didn't know you worked for that advertising company.” Jimin breaks the silence.

It's obvious you don't know. You never spoke to me again.

You think about it, but you don't have the courage to tell him. Not when you need to have a good relationship in order to continue working, for now. So you opt for a softer answer than you would like.

“I've been working with Minah for a few years now.” you try to say it as softly as possible, without letting the anger you're feeling show.

“Oh…”

And the uncomfortable atmosphere is back. In a few seconds a waitress is at your table, checking your orders and you thank God. The atmosphere was too heavy and neither of you knew how to fill that space in any other way.

The elephant in the room was clear and in vivid colors, but you both maneuvered to avoid it at every turn.

Jimin's head is so full that he can't choose the right words to say to you. He wants to tell you so many things but can't formulate any of them, ending up in silence.

“I didn't know you worked for Hybe. It's a pretty big company.” you lie.

You knew Jimin worked for that company, after all, you've never stopped following his work over the years.

A habit that your psychologist told you to eliminate from your routine, and you did. Somehow, eliminating this habit made you feel like you were definitely eliminating him from your life. And you didn't want that, despite everything.

But at some point you had to move on. You just didn't expect him to reappear in your life just when you were starting to move on a little.

“Oh, yeah, it was right after I left that, um, dance school I went to.“ Jimin looks embarrassed and you realize it.

“Ah…”

The mention of the well-known Seoul dance school he attended.

In other circumstances, this might be a reason for praise and all that. But this dance school only reminds you of what it was like to say goodbye to each other. One of your biggest traumas...

You agree with him, not knowing exactly what to say. Jimin knows that bringing up this topic wasn't a good idea and he mentally curses himself for it.

Silence takes over the table again and the only thing left is for you to look at each other.

You look at his hands on the table, playing with his own fingers in an attempt to calm his nervousness. His fingers have some rings adorning them and this doesn't go unnoticed by you.

You've always liked Jimin's hands. Something about their duality of being small and cute, but at the same time sensual and full of veins made you lose your mind.

Your eyes keep going up and you don't even notice that Jimin is doing the same to you. Analyzing your hands, looking for something.

Jimin is dressed all in black and you mentally curse him for it, for the countless time tonight. It should be forbidden for him to be dressed all in black like that and still be blond! It should be a crime for him to appear like that in front of you when all you want is to slap him for abandoning you. And you don't want to get lost in his stunning beauty, not at all.

You can't be weak enough to fall for his charms like that, even if he's not even trying.

When you reach his face, your eyes fall to his lips, the ones you kissed so much throughout your adolescence. The memory is still vivid in your mind.

The admiration lasted a few seconds, but you were late in meeting his eyes, because Jimin was already staring at you when you looked him in the eye. Your face heated up violently when you realized he had caught you staring at his lips.

You shifted in your chair, trying to show that you weren't affected by it, but the movement made you hit your knee and shake the things on the table.

“Shit... “ you curse. holding your knee.

Jimin looks at you worried and scared by the noise.

“Are you okay?”

And there's that concern of his that you really didn't need at that moment.

“Yes, yes, it was nothing.”

You continue massaging your knee as the waitress comes to bring your order to the table.

You realize that enough time has passed for your orders to be taken and brought to your table, but you haven't had a real conversation yet.

“So... What did you want to talk about?” you ask while keeping your eyes on the slice of cake you ordered.

“I think we should talk about us before all this starts.”

You accidentally hit the plate with your cutlery. Us.

“There's no us to talk about.” you don't look at him.

It never existed.

Maybe you were a little harsh.

“We can't keep avoiding each other like this if we're going to work together.” His voice is soft, but it still stresses you out.

“Well, it doesn't look like we're avoiding each other now.”

You point out, petulant, not liking the direction of this conversation.

Jimin maintains his posture, he knew you would be reluctant to talk. But he needed to do it.

“Y/n, you know what I'm talking about. You practically ran away from me on Tuesday.”

Jimin barely touched the food he ordered. And so did you.

His heart is tight in his chest and a lump in his throat as he sees you starting to get defensive with him.

The situation is starting to get to you, your fingers are already starting to tremble.

You stay silent because you don't know what to say to him, because he told the truth.

“I really want us to get along...again.”

Jimin says looking at you, waiting for you to look back. But you don't have the courage to look at him now. Not with him saying this kind of thing to you. After so long...

You almost laugh at what he says. Again?

“Again? So you can fuck me and then leave me like nothing happened?”

Your voice trembles a little and you feel like you've gone back in time, 5 years ago. When he left you without explanation, with your heart in your hand, which you had just ripped out of your chest to give to him.

You look at him with anger in your eyes, because that's what you're feeling right now.

Jimin has a surprised expression on his face at your outburst. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, as if he's trying to stay calm, and then looks at you again.

You couldn't imagine how much pain he was in.

"Don't say things like that." His voice is broken, you can feel it. But you think he doesn't have that right.

“Why not? It's the truth.”

“That's not how things happened and you know it.”

“So tell me how it went.” you're angry and your hands are already shaking. You hide them under the table, giving up on eating your meal.

Jimin sighs.

“We don't need to talk about it.”

In fact, he himself didn't want to talk about it. You may not know it, but it left as much of an impression on him as it did on you. And he blames himself for it every day.

“Oh, I think we do. “ you challenge him.

Jimin pauses, the memories reliving in his mind, as if he doesn't already blame himself every day thinking about them.

“I needed to go to Seoul if I wanted to keep dancing. You know that, we talked about it.”

That's not what you want to hear. And that's not what Jimin wanted to say. He just can't think straight right now.

And that's not how things happened. You know that, and so does he.

He made that decision for the two of you alone.

"You could have told me earlier... " your voice is tired. You are tired

You have repeated these same lines before.

“I tried to tell you.”

He really tried. And you don't know how much he suffered to tell you this, knowing that you would hate him forever.

You suppressed an ironic laugh. Jimin is joking today.

“Did you really try? Because to me it seemed like you waited until the last second to tell me.” your eyes don't leave his.

You want to see what face he'll make, what excuse he'll use this time.

Silence again.

You're both hurt too much. And Jimin understands your side, but he wanted you to understand his too.

You feel like you don't need to relive it. It was too much. What happened, happened. And now you need to be adults enough to put it behind you and work together.

You no longer feel like having this conversation anymore. Maybe you’re running away from your problems, but you can’t help it.

“Look, I don't feel like talking about this anymore.” You start to fix your bag. “ You don't have to worry, I won't ruin our working relationship.” You stand up and Jimin follows you with pleading eyes.

You ignore him.

He calls your name.

“Please, let me explain better.” His hand goes up to the table towards you, as if he were going to hold you.

But he stops halfway and closes it into a fist.

“You already explained.” you give a forced smile.”I'll see you on Monday at work.” and you walk away from him.

Your heart was crushed into a thousand pieces again. Tears wanted to form in the corners of your eyes. But you weren't going to humiliate yourself to the point of crying in front of him. Not again.

You walked to the cashier and paid your bill before leaving the coffee shop.

You practically ran to the parking lot and got into your car. As soon as you sat down, the tears started to fall violently.

You felt like an idiot for your actions. You wished this conversation had gone differently. You wished you had been more mature and not exploded in front of him.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you rested your head on the steering wheel.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Jimin puts both hands on his face, covering his eyes and lowers his head. This was not the direction he expected the conversation to take.

“Stupid.” He says to himself. Because this is how he feels after this conversation.

There was no point in rehearsing this conversation a million times in his head. It didn't go as planned at all.

He had been thinking about explaining everything to you since the beginning. And finally telling you how much he missed you and how his life no longer made sense without you in it.

As soon as Jimin got home, he took off his clothes and threw himself on the bed. His head hurt, along with his entire body.

It's been a while since he's had a full night's rest. And the exhausting routine of rehearsals and performances has drained all the energy from his body, as well as his mind.

He was taken by surprise when he found out that his chief had hired a new advertising company. And he was even more surprised when he found out the name of the person who would be in charge of helping him personally. Jimin thought that life couldn't be more difficult for him. However, he saw a new hope emerge in the darkness that was his life.

He knew you worked for that company. He just didn't have the courage to admit that he was still looking for things about you, after all these years.

Jimin thought that you could finally get along, now that you were going to work together. Maybe he could explain to you everything he felt over the years, how he got lost in this world and doesn't know how to find himself anymore.

Unfortunately, things aren’t that simple.

He really hurt you. And Jimin can’t demand that you forgive him.

His phone vibrates with a message. Taehyung is asking how the date between the two of you went.

Jimin closes his eyes. It was a disaster.

It's been a few days since Jimin and Taehyung started talking more often again. They started chatting until the conversation turned to you. Jimin ended up telling you about the new surprise at work and asked if Taehyung still talked to you. Taehyung said that you were still friends and that you hung out a lot.

Jimin felt sad because honestly, it seems like people kept their bonds despite life, it was only him who had drifted away from almost everyone.

This wasn't right and he knew it. But for today it was enough.

“You need to talk to me.”

Yuna is sitting on the couch at your house after you called her, crying. She knows why and she knows what you went to do today. But since she arrived 30 minutes ago, you haven't said a word other than crying.

Your heart is tight in your chest and you feel a lump in your throat, even after you've cried a lot. Your eyes are already swollen enough to be starting to bother you and your nose is completely blocked.

“I don't know what to say. " Your voice comes out strange through your blocked nose and you almost laugh at how pathetic you sound now.

“Well, start by telling me how your conversation went.”

Yuna is patient and you are eternally grateful for that. It's no wonder she's been your best girl friend since high school when you two met.

You start telling her about your short but torturous conversation. In fact, it can't even be considered a conversation, since you barely talked about what really mattered. You blame yourself for that.

“I think I was very intolerant. I shouldn't have let myself get carried away by emotions.”

You cry a little more, but not as violently as before. Your body is already tired of crying, although you still feel hurt.

“You don't have to blame yourself for feeling things. It's been a long time since you last saw each other.”

Yuna is so good to you. But you feel like you're in the wrong and that you did something wrong.

“Still. I felt so angry at him because-”

“Because you still like him.”

She cut you off mid-sentence and your heart skipped a beat at her words. It made no sense to you after all these years.

“But it's been so many years... I don't even know who he is anymore.”

“Well, it doesn't matter. You're clearly affected by him again.”

Have you ever stopped being affected?

You feel stupid.

And your life feels like a joke. To be more specific, it feels like your life is a circus and you are the clown.

“I feel so stupid for being like this.”

A few more cold tears fall from your eyes and Yuna gets up to get you a tissue.

“Don't talk like that. You're not an idiot.”

“What kind of person still likes a guy who dumped her? An idiot.”

She sits up straighter and looks at you seriously. Here she comes.

“A person who has feelings so strong that they don't just go away.”

She hands you the tissue with determination and you accept it.

“That's bullshit”

“It's not bullshit. That's what makes you, you. That's one of the reasons people like you so much.”

Maybe she's right, but you're in a wave of self-pity that doesn't allow you to agree with her.

“I don't think so…”

Yuna sighs loudly.

“Ugh, stop being so stubborn. Let's have some wine.”

She's already getting up and walking towards her kitchen counter.

“I can't drink wine.”

“Why not? You don't work tomorrow.”

You realize you don't have a damn excuse not to drink the wine, so you huff and Yuna laughs knowing she's won.

You just feel like a crybaby. You want things to be resolved without having to be in such a painful way.

At least the weekend will be a good time for you to process everything that happened and prepare for another week of work with Jimin.

Clothes. Accessories. Makeup. Photo set.

You run around helping organize everything for the big publicity event that Jimin will be doing this morning. So far, everything is going as planned. And you try at all costs not to be in the same room as him, even though that is an almost impossible task.

Jimin is going to do some photos for this well-known magazine and this will help a lot to promote his image and the upcoming performances he will do. You helped him get this opportunity and set up the whole shoot, along with the photographers. What you don't understand is why Minah sent you with him. Your job was to stay behind the scenes, organize everything and run away from him.

But it seems that Minah has other plans. She has been making you accompany Jimin everywhere she can. Minah is smart, she must have already realized that there is something wrong with the two of you.

You finish eating your lunch with a sigh, checking the time on your cell phone screen. You hurry to brush your teeth and get back to work.

You enter Jimin's dressing room, where the entire team is constantly circulating. But now everything is quiet and you don't see anyone.

“Hey, is anyone here?”

As soon as you finish speaking, Jimin appears with a surprised expression, and without a shirt! He comes out of the bathroom.

You get scared and for a few seconds your eyes roam over his body. You want to kill him. Why is he so handsome and attractive? You can't understand.

“Is everything okay?”

You have to hate him. That's the only way you can handle this. You can't give him the satisfaction of having you drool over him like a teenager. Not again.

“Y-yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Jimin's surprised face has already disappeared and he's acting like nothing happened. You try to ignore him.

You’re looking for your bag to put your toothpaste and toothbrush in, but you can’t find them. You fidget with the couch cushions a little nervously, because you want to get out of there quickly and not be alone with Jimin for too long.

“It's over there.”

His voice comes from behind you. Very close. You get a fright and move away. He's still shirtless and this time you scolded him not only in your head.

You're not thinking straight.

“Why are you naked?”

You sound harsh and Jimin frowns.

“I'm not naked.”

You get mad because there's no real reason for you to be mad with him. Just the fact that you're completely shaken by him being shirtless so close to you.

“Just put on a damn shirt.”

You are not being rational, but your actions are faster than your thoughts.

“Why are you acting like this? It's just a shirt.”

Jimin is slightly stressed and you can tell. You think he has no right to. Not when you can't admit the reason you're so mad: the fact that he's so damn gorgeous like this.

“What's so hard about covering yourself up, Park? I don't want to see you.”

You try to be functional and look for your bag, but your head doesn't seem to work when Jimin is so close.

“Well, you were the one who came in here.”

You look at him again.

You feel like punching him.

“Well, I work here!”

“What will your boss think if she sees you treating the client like that?”

Oh, he doesn't dare.

He's being a scoundrel.

“You want to know the truth? I'd rather not even be working on this with you!”

You spit the words in his face and Jimin stays silent. Maybe you went too far, but it's too late now.

Maybe you were too hasty in saying that you wouldn't ruin your relationship at work. Things were spiraling out of control faster than you had anticipated. It had only been two weeks and this was already happening...

You feel stupid. You told him, to his face, that you wouldn't ruin your work relationship. And now look at it. You've already screwed it up and you've barely gotten started.

His gaze is dead. You feel the sparkle is gone. You feel guilty.

“Okay…”

Jimin walks away from you and goes to the other side of the room, to a clothes rack, to look for the next outfit he's going to wear.

You can tell he's annoyed by the way he forcefully passes each hanger of clothes. His shoulders are tense and it's only now that you've noticed that he has a tattoo of the phases of the moon on his back.

With Jimin far enough away from you that you can't smell his incredible perfume or see his honey skin that drives you crazy, you can think straight. You sigh audibly and try to improve the situation, after all your job depends on it, you can't forget.

“I'm sorry. That was rude.”

He keeps his back to you.

“It's okay. I got the message.”

Now you start to feel guilty about what you said.

Jimin continues to search through the clothes rack and the only thing you can do is stare at his back. You notice the other tattoos he has now, something he didn't have when you were close. You want to know the origin of each one and what they mean to him. You wanted to know all the things about him.

You finally find your bag, which was right in front of your eyes. You feel extremely embarrassed.

When you turn around, Jimin is already wearing a white shirt with a black harness over it. He looks gorgeous.

You hate him even more. Because despite everything, you can't find him ugly. But you wish you could find him ugly and not at all attractive. Things could be easier that way.

The other employees start arriving to organize everything for the photoshoot.

You talk to some people who are responsible for creating the media and give them guidance on what should be done for later divulgation. You already have everything organized in a notebook, how you will divulgate each thing.

You try to focus on that: the professional scheme you've created for Jimin's image. You try to focus on the fact that this is just another job and try to forget who he is.

You are invited to watch the photoshoot and, honestly, you didn't want to. But you had nothing else to do at the moment so it would be a little weird to refuse.

In a separate room, the set is all set up for him. The photographers are already organized in their places. You knew that the theme of this photoshoot would be “the truth untold”, but you didn’t quite understand what that meant.

In the ready-made set, there was something that looked like a cage and Jimin positioned himself in the middle. Jimin is wearing a mask and has ribbons holding his arms, as if he were a puppet. A melody starts playing to guide him in the photos that have already started to be taken.

The melody also has sounds similar to a squirming doll and Jimin follows the rhythm without missing a beat, squirming in the restraints that are holding him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin finally manages to get rid of the restraints and then he slowly takes off his mask. Several photos are taken at this moment. His face is so different from what you usually see that your heart skips a few beats. He seems very focused on what he is doing and exudes a lot of emotion.

His gaze is heavy and you feel as if he is indeed tied up and finally breaking free. You almost lose your breath as they take pictures of him. And the back of your neck starts to sweat a little despite the air conditioning.

After this part of the photoshoot, everything happens very quickly. The makeup artists come to touch up his makeup while Jimin gets rid of his clothes and puts on another one.

Even though he's not completely naked, it still feels wrong to watch him change like that in front of everyone. You snap out of your trance after watching him and try to get out of Jimin's field of vision.

The next set is called "rebirth" but you can't take it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his outfit, which is a mix of white and black, as if he's slowly being painted white.

You can't help but think that all these sets and clothe have some deeper meaning behind them. And your head is spinning with all the possibilities.

You head to the restroom to get some air, because it's going to be a long day if you keep this up.

A week had passed since that day, and you still hadn't talked.

“Look, I don't want to be mean to you. You know I only want the best for you. “ Minah says.

Sitting at the restaurant table, you can already anticipate what she's going to say.

“But speaking as your boss, I need you to resolve whatever situation is happening between you and Jimin.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined you would have to hear this from her. Things have gotten so out of hand that even Minah can sense the discomfort between the two of you.

Although she hasn't seen you two interacting in person, someone probably ended up telling her how things are between you. And internally you hate yourself for letting this show so easily, at the same time as you hate your gossipy colleagues.

“I understand…”

“I don't know what happened between you two..., but I really wish you could get along. You are the best employee I have.”

You feel a little uncomfortable with her words, but deep down you understand what she means. Minah is being practical. And what matters now is business, not your personal relationship with Jimin.

“I promise it's not big deal.”

You try to pretend, but Minah has known you for years. She knows you don't talk much about your personal problems, but she can tell by the changes in your mood. And she's definitely noticed the uncomfortable way you've been acting every time you have to interact with Jimin. Or when she asks you to work with him all the time.

She's worried about you.

“I noticed, you know?”

She's still eating her lunch, sitting in front of you.

You listen attentively.

“You two kind of don't know how to act around each other. It's funny to watch from the outside, really.” she giggles, but you can't follow along.

She continues.

“As your friend, I think this is funny and would like to know more. But as your boss, I need this to improve. People will start to notice.”

And you know it's true.

There's no way you can work together several days a week, several hours a day, without someone noticing and commenting on how you're rude to him every time you talk.

Or how you hate being around him because all you've wanted to do is be around him all these years.

“So... are you going to tell me what happened?”she looks deep into your eyes.

You eat your food. Without any desire.

You decide that you are going to tell her. Not everything, but something.

“We kind of had this thing…”

You start, but you don't know how to continue. You don't even know what your relationship really was.

Minah is looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No, I mean- it was complicated.”

She nods and continues eating.

“The point is: things didn't end very well and... we haven't talked about it since.”

You try to chew your food.

“How long has it been?”

“About 5 years.”

She looks at you in surprise.

“Were you really that young?”

You nod and give a humorless laugh.

Yeah, really young...

“Wow... I thought it was something recent.”

You're embarrassed. Any self-respecting adult would have gotten over this nonsense by now. But you can't.

Jimin was too much a part of your life for you to simply forget him as if he were nothing.

“Well, it clearly affected you. I can tell from afar.”

Minah raises her eyebrows a little as she says this.

“Yeah…”

You can't finish your food anymore and she notices. What a bummer, you wish you weren't so transparent.

“Damn, girl. He really messed you up, huh?”

What she said was far from funny, but the tone she used made you laugh somehow, and Minah ended up laughing along with you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Somehow you feel a little lighter after telling her this. Even though she doesn't know the details, it's enough for her to understand that you two had a complicated relationship and that it's affecting things a little now.

In any case, you can't forget the fact that you urgently need to change your relationship. It is no longer a matter of personal fights, it is a professional matter.

“But…” she pauses a little and chooses her words carefully ”I thought artists like him couldn't date.”

A piece of your heart broke at her words. Is there any part of it still whole?

“He wasn't famous yet.”

Minah looked at you for a few seconds until she understood. Her face became sad.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get into a sensitive topic.”

“It's okay. It's been years anyway.”

It's not okay. But you don't feel comfortable enough to say it. It's best to keep it inside for now.

You feel relieved when you finish lunch and head back to the agency.

But you feel uncomfortable the rest of the day. You can't help but think that everything that's been happening in the last few days just makes you remember more and more what your goodbye was like.

After all these years of suppressing these feelings and trying to move on despite them, it now feels like your life and your sanity are being put to the test. Being constantly reminded of these events, even though almost no one knows about everything that happened, has taken away your peace.

You wonder if this affects Jimin as much as it affects you. You wonder if he thinks about you every time he kisses someone. You wonder if he remembers you two every time he sleeps with someone. Because you think about him every time you do, even if you'd die for it not to happen.

Every time you kiss someone, your mind makes sure to remind you that your first kiss was with him. Every time you have sex with someone, your mind makes even more of a point of reminding you what your first time was like and all the secret places he touched you that night.

Maybe he doesn't know it, but he ruined your life. You couldn't stop thinking about him anymore. And you don't know what you're going to do to make this situation better.

#jimin smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts au #bts x you #bts imagines #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n

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muntitled · 10 months ago

Note

Hi!! (this is the same anon that praised the magnificent work that was Picture Perfect.) i would like to make one itty bitty baby request. (now walk with me) imagine best friend!Sohee that's like low-key (🤫high-key) obsessed with you. he begrudgingly listens to you gush about the dates some guy (Seunghan, maybe? 👀) has taken you on. he constantly nitpicks the dates and points out anything remotely negative. until one day (dramatic pause), you casually tell him that you and that same guy (SEUNGHAN) had sex after your most recent date. a switch flips in Sohee and he's sooo pissed and yelling a lil bit. you're like "what the fuck?" and "hold on, Sohee's kinda… bites finger" at the same time. you guys end up having sex and it's FILTY (both physically and verbally.) flesh this out however you see fit. this literally came to me in a hazy vision (and only you can make it sound good 🙏🏾.)

What a spicy prompt. Never run out of ideas for me, please. I hope you like and so sorry for the wait <33

𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Summary: He just doesn't deserve to be the goofy best friend. It's not fair.

Warnings: Language, Roommates!AU, Best Friends To Lovers, Obsession, Perv!Sohee,Cheating Implications, Slight Angst, Jealousy, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), Masturbation, Panty stealing, Handjobs, Blowjobs, Needy!Sohee, Grinding, Humping, Nipple Play, Spitting, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink

This is unedited because it's 1am. We die like hot girls here. If this is bad and incoherent don't mention it I beg...

If there is ever a time, Sohee wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. It would be now. Anything to get him away from here and the horrible fucking situation he has stumbled into.

Sohee had walked into your shared living room comfortably, almost nonchalantly, with his head bowed and his voice as characterically cheerful as ever. The packaged videogame is still clenched in his palms.

"This was the last one!” he burst into the living room, voice charged with enthusiasm, “I had to sell my soul to get it but-" Sohee did not anticipate walking in on you and Seunghan sitting so cosily on the couch, nor did he feel even remotely comfortable with the sight.

Your eyes widen slightly as you push off a reluctant Seunghan who had been nuzzling in between your neck.

Sohee, who already wore his entire bleeding heart on his sleeve, allowed his smile to dim dismally.

"Oh-I,” Your mouth hung open in apparent shock, “Sohee!"

His mood plummets at the sight of you hurriedly pulling to fix the button of your oversized flannel. "I didn't think you'd be home so early," You're scrambling to pull your bra strap up. At least you had the gall to appear somewhat flustered and somewhat uncomfortable. Seunghan on the other hand, ever the quiet brood, keeps his hand on your exposed thigh, with his lips pursed tight.

"I-I'm sorry for interrupting-'' Sohee isn't sure why the apology even tumbles out of his lips but it does and it causes a very deep, scorching heat to wash across his features. "It's just..." Sohee twiddles the video game cover in hands, evading all eye contact as he begins, "I-I thought we said we'd be playing today. I rented the game and everything…" Sohee doesn't dare exchange a single glance with Seunghan as he swallows thickly, "And that's why you said I should get off work earlier."

The way your eyes expand and your hands fly to cup your mouth makes Sohee feel marginally better.

"That was today? Fuck! I'm so sorry, Hee,"

"No! Don't even stress! I should've found out if you had other plans- I'm sorry."

"Jesus, Sohee don't apologise!” You look thoroughly displeased with yourself, nothing at all like the unbothered expression on Seunghan's face as he leans his head against your shoulder, still splaying mindless kisses against your skin as if Sohee wasn't even there.

It is then that Sohee decides, with blistering conviction and a beating heart, that Seunghan just doesn't deserve you.

"You shouldn't be the one apologising." You say, beginning to push yourself up off the couch, "Here, I'll turn on the tv-"

"Do that and we'll end up missing the concert." Seunghan finally pipes up beside you, "They're front row seats, babe… c'mon"

Sohee is forced to watch as you visibly melt from another man's gaze alone. The way Seymour slithers his hand around your waist, pulling your gaze towards him while you comply like a good little girl.

Sohee tastes the bile rising in the back of his throat and swallows.

"Sohee's not gonna mind," Seunghan continues, before turning to finally spare Sohee a single diginifying gaze, "Right little man?"

Sohee could hardly even begin to exclaim that he was hardly little but instead, he swallows down his words, as he is so used to doing, and he quietly says, "If you don't go, I'll kill you myself,"

The conflicted expression across your face melts away like glaciers in the summertime and you're immediately engulfing your best friend in the most suffocating hug. He never dares move away. He doesn't even dare wrap his arms around you, because your front is pressed flush against his and the blood is already beginning to rush to his cock.

You were the very object of his every desire.

Having you so close was far too dangerous.

Sohee's eyes flutter open to see Seunghan's sharp, cat-like smile over your shoulder, immediately snapping him out of his trance, until he's detangling his limbs from yours.

Sohee spends that night, as has become custom of most of his nights; with his hand down his pants, his head thrown back against the headboard, and his eyes squeezed painfully shut.

He ruts mindlessly against his own hand; vyour panties wrapped around his aching shaft and he thinks back on hours before, when you had your arms wrapped around him. How secure he felt being held there. How right it felt having you locked against him like a puzzle piece.

"You're so pretty," he mewls into the empty open air, "You're just so pretty- fuck, you feel so good " His voice is hoarse and his limbs are shaking with the knowledge that your bedroom was right next door. Empty. Absolutely void of the warmth of your presence. "Can't help it, can't help it, can't help it,"

He doesn't dare imagine what you and Seunghan might have accomplished were he not to storm in on you. He doesn't even let the thought take any sort of shape in the chambers of his mind because that space was reserved for you and him alone and soon, Sohee is moaning into the open air, forcing his eyes open so he could watch his cum spurt onto your panties and for all of 10 euphoric seconds, he is in utter bliss.

"Did you hear anything I even said?"

"What?" He most certainly didn't hear anything you said. Far too caught up in stealing intermittent glances at your breasts practically spilling out of the bust of your sundress.

"I need to start charging your mom double," You narrow your eyes, "She pays me to hang out with you,"

Sohee pushes you sideways, nearly toppling you to the other side of the couch as he continues skating his fingers over the controller.

Through the open blinds, the night is deep and a gentle heavenly breeze flows over the little gaming den you and Sohee created since the peroration of your evening together. What was supposed to be a 'study session' quickly morphed into Sohee challenging you and your incredibly arduous pride to multiple rounds of a new videogame. You're not very good at the games but Sohee is more than comfortable withholding any unnecessary skill.

Just to make you feel like you're winning.

He'd do just about anything you wanted him to.

"I didn't even see how late it's gotten, fuck- Seunghan's gonna kill me."

The time has quite literally slipped past you both, and Sohee's stomach growls in stark affirmation. He ignores it though, pausing the game to inquire, "Who?"

"Seunghan," you say, pushing yourself up from the couch. Sohee could sense a stark impression of history repeating itself and he'll be damned if he lets it happen again.

"I forgot he invited me to go watch the fireworks.” You continue obliviously, “The show starts at midnight so I should be able to make it if I-"

"You're going out with some random guy that late at night?" The smile on Sohee's face is permanent but you can sense the apprehension in his voice. It causes you to stop your movements.

You're standing adjacent to him, with your hand hanging limply from your open bag, "He's not just some random guy, though," you hope the chuckle at the end of your sentence might alleviate what little bit of tension is beginning to stir in the air.

Sohee is quiet which is very unlike him. You have your eyes narrowed with scepticism which is very unlike you.

The entire world feels like it's about to be tipped on its axis.

"He's my boyfriend."

"Who else is going to be there?" Sohee's vicious line of questioning overlaps with your defence.

"I don't think that's any of your business..."

Sohee shrugs, with his permanent smile still etched on his face as he leans forward, elbows on his knees "Humor me,"

"Seunghan wanted me to meet his friends," You're not sure why you tell him but you do.

"Isn't it a little too soon to be meeting his friends?"

Your eyebrows immediately furrow as you advance in on him, "Sohee-"

He sits back and gazes up at you from his spot on the couch. "You haven't even had sex yet and you wanna meet his friends-"

"Actually we did sleep together." The lie tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can catch it and once the words are out there, taking it back is like putting toothpaste back into the bottle. Utterly impossible.

"You… what?" Sohee's sunshine smile begins to falter and it's only then that you think you might have made a very grave mistake.

"What are you talking about?" A gasp so small but so incredibly audible wrenches itself from your throat when he bolts up from the couch. Never did you think your best friend could ever exhibit any emotions besides a near constant state of joy. Seeing him so disturbed has you feeling disturbed and perhaps you wanted to step back, but his hand is locked firmly around your wrist.

"You let him..." Sohee breaks eye contact. The boy looks like his entire world is being flipped over, "No, you wouldn't..." he shakes his head. "He probably forced himself on you, didn't he?" Your eyes widen as you watch the boy you knew begin to spiral further and further. Deeper and deeper. "Fuck, I saw how pushy he was with you the other day and I didn't do anything-"

"Sohee. Seunghan didn't-"

His hands leave your wrist to cup the sides of your face, bringing your words to a startling halt in the back of your throat. His gaze is so intense, it's as if his big eyes have the power to break you apart.

"Tell me he did it." Sohee's voice is raising and your nerves are shot to hell, "You wanna tell me the only way you had sex with Seunghan was because he made you do it… but if that's not the case-" His voice comes down from his high crescendo as he says, "Then you were being a slut all on your own."

This was not the time for you to be having even the vaguest of obscene thoughts, but your best friend of endless years has just called you a slut with such genuine conviction and his words had travelled straight to your clit. A deep warmth descends over your face, perhaps from being scolded by him so cruelly. By someone you wouldn't think even has the capabilities of speaking up in a dense crowd.

Your legs nearly give out under you, and when Sohee does a very daring thing, when he lowers his face in between your neck just as he'd seen Seunghan do, you nearly topple all the way to the ground.

Nearly.

"Tell me you didn't do anything," he pouts as his lips skim against your sensitive skin. You have no idea what to do with your hands, your arms, your face or your feet and so you let him nuzzle his nose into you, while your heart beats erratically.

"Tell me you weren't being a little slut-"

"F-Fuck Sohee," the moan that's slips past your lips surprises you both. And Sohee is quick to pull away from you as if your skin caught fire. His eyes are wide and they only grow wider when they meet your heavy lidded gaze. Completely overturned with lust.

What the hell did he just do?

"F-Fuck, I'm s-sorry, I-" But you're already pressing your lips against his, your arms finding purchase over his shoulders and pulling him impossibly closer. Sohee immediately whimpers against your lips while his hands sink into the softness of your curves. It's a rabid, fierce kiss that has Sohee pushing his tongue in prematurely. You find yourself not minding all that much. In fact, his eagerness only succeeds in getting you even wetter than you already were.

"Fuck, I need you so bad-" The words flowing from your mouth are music to his very ears. When you pull away, Sohee's face is bathed in red.

"You can't say stuff like that," he whispers before reattaching his lips to the side of your mouth. Now that he had you, he'd be damned if he let you get away. He'd be damned if he didn't mark up every single bit of skin available to him.

"Don't stop," your hands find purchase in his short, dyed hair before mindlessly pushing the boy back onto the couch.

He watches with swollen, open lips as you crawl up into his lap, your sundress gathering at your hips as you straddle him.

Sohee looks down and catches the faintest glimpse of your lace underwear before immediately looking back up, as if he were looking at something he was not supposed to see. Beside his naivete being so incredibly cute, it awakens a burning warmth in the pit of your stomach that only makes you needier for him.

"Look at me, Sohee," You whisper as you splay gentle kisses across his collarbone. "You need to look at me," hesitantly, Sohee's eyes drag their way to you, just in time to watch you lift the dress up over your head. His lungs are vacuumed shut and Sohee's fingers sink painfully into your ample thigh straddling his hips as you discard the dress and your bra over your shoulder.

"This can't be real," Sohee whispers when you lift his hand to place it gently against your breasts and their puckered nipples. He immediately readjusts himself underneath you. A deeply embarrassing attempt at hiding the way his hips buck up against your core.

His neediness spurs on your arousal.

You tip your head back when you pull Sohee's head against your breasts. His lips latch onto your nipples and a dazzling, choked moan runs out of your throat. The most beautiful fucking sound he's ever heard.

"Sohee-oh my God," You're grinding mindlessly against his stiff bulge while he sucks fervently, caught in the throes of your own pleasure.

"Oh-God, you're gonna make me cum-" Your quiet moans only spur him on, and Sohee brings his other hand up to tweak your other nipple as he continues to suck while you rut against him. His cock is leaking precum and his limbs are shaking from trying by all means to stop himself from cumming before you do. When you slip into your orgasm you scream his name. Not Seunghan's, or anyone else's...

He couldn't even begin to describe it. Watching you come down from you high, flushed and chest rising and falling, felt like a fucking priveledge.

"I lied," you slip out, "I didn't have sex with Seunghan." You crawl up off his lap slowly and Seunghan's narrowed eyes follow you with scepticism. "I know- it was stupid and I just felt like you were judging me and-"

"Oh my fucking God, don't ever do that again!" Sohee places a hand on his heart as he physically deflates. Unbeknownst to him, the sneakiest smile flits it's away across your face.

"It's almost like you were jealous or something?" Between the teasing tone in your voice and the fact that you were kneeling right in front of him, rubbing against his sweater clad thigh, Sohee did not know where to place his focus. He felt himself slipping into that very needy state right before your eyes, and you were all too pleased to watch it happen.

"I wasn't..." his words ebb away into a wavering exhale when you bring your hand to the waistband of his sweats, politely urging them down just enough to place your hand over the rock hard bulge in his pants. He still hasn't cum yet and he's all too aware of it now.

"I wasn't-"

"What was that?" You're kneeling in front of him now. Dipping your head down as if you would dare let your mouth make contact.

"I wasnt jealous- F-FUCK,"

You had done quick work of pulling his cock out, letting Sohee roll his head back, careful to still keep his half lidded eyes on you.

He watches with bated breath and a helplessly pained expression as you bow your head over his shaft and spit.

"Oh my God," the second your spit connects your mouth to the head of his cock he's absolutely done for; rolling his hips up intermittently, hoping for at least the faintest bit of friction again.

"Please, please, please-" His voice breaks in between his begging and your smile only widens, "I've w-waited for so long?"

"You've thought about me like this?" You cock your head to the side as you begin to pump Sohee's cock ever so slowly. "You've been having bad thoughts about me, Sohee?"

"F-Fu- c-could you just-" He attempts to lift his hips up, guiding his glistening cock through the palm of your hand but you don't budge.

"So you were jealous then?" Sohee visibly deflates at the egotistical conviction in your voice.

You wanted to make him say it.

"Just admit that-"

"I was jealous, Okay! Fuck- I thought you could already tell!" He whines, motioning down at his aching cock leaking precum. His head rolls backwards when you resume your stroking and pick up the pace. "G-God, I've wanted you f-or so long," he can barely keep his words in his mouth and the words that do slip out, are sloppy and messy.

Sohee runs his hand through his hair as he watches you bow your head over his lap. He is utterly transfixed. So transfixed he doesn't even register that his mouth is hanging open, his tongue lolling out slightly. "D-Dont-"

His cock twitches the second your mouth encloses around the head of his cock and he's pushing you down by your head, eliciting a surprising yelp from you. "m'Sorry! m'so, so sorry, you just feel so good," Sohee clenches his teeth as he rams his cock into your mouth, and you take all of him. You take him so fucking well.

"Where can I cum?!" He manages to ask in a strained, tense voice and you lift your head like lightning, still furiously stroking his cock.

"Wherever you want."

His eyes shoot to the back of your skull and Sohee only manages to quickly reply, "O-On your tits," before you're pressing your boobs together, allowing him to shoot his load all over your chest. He tries to keep his eyes open, he really does. But the little he's able to see before the pleasure takes over him completely is enough for Sohee to replay in his mind for decades.

"O-h my God," he exhales, before finally slumping back in his seat, "F-Fuck,"

You stare down at the mess he's made all over your chest, quickly promoting Sohee to do the same...

"Uh- I'm sorry-"

"Apologise one last time and you won't get to cum next time."

Sohee swallows thickly. Those two words ring louder in his ear than anything else you said: Next time.

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