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kitkat27 · 1 year ago

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Two Lines

Ilsa discovers life changing information but dealing with Lane again will have to come first …

Posted on ao3 - kit_kat_27

Thank you sooooo much to @justabigassnerd for putting up with me for the last couple of months while I’ve been writing. Couldn’t have done it without your support!

It will becoming a series hopefully (comment if you want on the taglist)

Please let me know what you guys think. I’ve not done a lot of romance and haven’t written for about 2 yrs so I’m a bit rusty. This is my first fic in this fandom, it’s one of the longest I’ve written and one of my first fight scenes. Ignore grammar and spelling mistakes. This will be posted on ao3 too !

Two lines. Two definite pink lines. Two lines blink back at her confirming her suspicions. Two lines that will now change her life from this exact moment.

Two lines that couldn't be erased. Lines that confirm her body was right. All the signs that she had been dodging confirmed her fears.

Fingers grazed against her abdomen, as if her fingers were scared if they lingered too long it would confirm her fears.

This had been at the bottom of her list, hell after being with the syndicate for two years it had been erased from it. And for finding out, a derelict safe house in rural Denmark was not the scenario she had thought of many years ago.

She had snagged the test the other week and let it burn a hole in her bag until she was going to pop under the pressure.

She'd finally given in to the pressure at the safehouse with the safety of knowing the boys wouldn't be back for another couple of hours.

But now she wasn’t sure what to do, sitting in the bathroom staring at the two pink lines. For once in her life she didn't have the next step already planned. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there as the sounds of the boys inthe driveway indicated their return.

Not wanting Ethan to find out yet, she needed to wrap her brain around it first, she shoved the test down into the depths of her bag where she hoped it would stay hidden until she was ready to tell.

‐—--------------‐—-----------------

Solomon Lane was a name that kept appearing, though all four wished it didn't. Every time they thought they were done he would reappear.

And so they were, here again, staring at the computer each wishing that if the computer was closed and reopened it would be gone, and they could go back to chilling in their safe house.

But alas, they did. Brandt, who now made secretary, had sent them an email after word had gotten out that Lane had escaped Alana's grip and had not been handed over to MI6.

Nobody knew if either Alanna or the Mi6 had played a part in his escape. You can only trust a broker so much, Alanna would always think of herself no matter what she had promised.

But the wind was that he had escaped to Europe where some of his still, somehow, loyal followers remained. The organization was heading to a remote village in Kashmir threatening to release a nuclear bomb that would starve a third of the world's population.

Brandt was warning them to take these hints about Lane with a pinch of salt as it wasn't said who had given them this information and to approach the entire case with caution.

She was going to have to put telling Ethan, he would end the mission before it even started if she told him now the news on the back burner for now. If Lane found out they were carrying new information he wouldn't stop till he found.

————————————-

They split up once they reached the camp, Lane would stand out like a sore thumb in the remote village.

Ethan and Luther took to the nearby medical camp, leaving Benji and Ilsa to tackle the village. Ethan and Ilsa didn’t want to split, they worked better together but Lane would be wanting them to be together.

Once they reached the village, they split again to cover more ground while keeping each other in sight. Well, it was more Ilsa keeping an eye on Benji as she was concerned about Benji running into Lane alone again.

She knew he’d passed field tests and could hold his own, but he didn’t have the same skills or experience. She and Ethan had an unspoken agreement that they’d always put themselves in the firing line before Luther and Benji.

Making her way around the village, she did her best to stay under the radar. Lane had predicated all their movements but she had wanted to at least try to be in front. Out of the main village, on the outskirts, a lone house stood. Void of any women or children hanging outside, drawing her to it.

‘Benji, I may have a lead, stay close by and on comms. We'll draw attention if we both go ‘

Her fellow brit already began to panic at her evading the laid out plan, ‘‘Ilsa, you know what etha-’

‘Stay close by, I need to do this’ and with that, she blocked out the following Benji ramble.

Nothing on the outside balcony gave any clues to Lane. Pausing at the bottom of the steps, she could hear Benji arguing in her ear and threatening to switch on Ethan’s earpiece knowing he would stop this.

But she wanted to, no she needed to take on Lane herself.

She needed to find some form of closure from the years she worked in the syndicate, and the pain and torture he put her friends through.

Some closure for the nights she woke up screaming. All the years by herself, all the years alone, he needed to repay.

She made her way into the house. with each step she took her mind was on overdrive, her eyes darting back and forth making sure her six was covered.

Training would tell her that walking through an open door is a trap. Sweeping the first room, there was nothing in the house that wasn't covered in dust or had seen better days.

A blur of movement occurred in her peripheral vision of a figure moving to another room. Mentally apologizing to Ethan and the boys she followed.

The room was the same as the last a movement attracting her to a darkened section of the room causing her to turn aro-

A blinding pain across the back of her skull turned her vision white.

With the back of her head throbbing leaving her frozen, another blow to her lower back dropped her to the ground, the world turning black.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Ilsa, Ilsa. I know you can hear me. I'm a second away from calling Ethan’. This wasn't a good idea.

‘Ilsa you better respond’

Why couldn't Luther have gone with Ilsa, she listened to him the most. Luther was the only one who sometimes could reign her in these situations.

Ilsa’s tracker showed her around the edge of the village, where Lane would want her. He would know she would split from the group and that she would tackle him alone. Pulling out his phone he sent a message to Luther, warning of his worries without alerting Ethan.

He readied his gun as he spotted the lonely house in front of him. Why could the bad guys never be sitting in a coffee shop ready to hand themselves over after grabbing a latte?

Silence. The house was empty. 2 spies would be quiet but shouldn’t be completely silent.

Sweeping all the rooms in the house, the worry grew with every increasing minute he spent with no sign of Ilsa or Lane.

‘ Ilsa, Ilsa are you i-’, blood.

Blood. Ilsa’s gun.

Blood, a lot of blood for a spy who was the best of the best.

‘ Benji, where are you?’, shit Ethan.

‘ The house at the end of the village, Ilsa spotted Lane here and went after him. She’s-’, doing this over comms would be easier than face to face, ‘she’s not here Ethan. Lane has her, she's injured’

Ethan never panicked but he’d never had someone like Ilsa in his life before.

The one warning he had given to the team was to not take Lane on alone, especially Ilsa. She had failed tests towards the end of her undercover stint. She wouldn't be lucky the next time she ran into Lane alone.

Lane and Ilsa were stubborn and hot-headed, with an intense hatred for each other, what would happen when the two were reunited Ethan didn't want to know.

In the safe house in Denmark she had acted a little off, an unknown fear had flickered across her face when their time off in Denmark was being cut short.

Benji was waiting for them on the porch of the house, panic written over his face. He didn't waste time looking in the house, no point subjecting his heart to what she had gone through.

Circling the house there was almost nothing to go on until he came across faint footsteps leading away from the home to some soft tire tracks in the distance.

There were only 2 sets of prints, both too big for Ilsa. Lane had a plan in mind for another location. She would be no match for him unconscious and drugged. Luther and Benji hung back letting him decide on what to do next.

The tracks led deep into the mountains. Wasting no time in telling the other two what or where he was going, he began sprinting back to where they had left the car at the medical camp,

‘I’ll get you two as I come past’

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A pounding pain pulsed at the back of her head. The first effort in opening her eyes sent a shockwave of pain around her skull. The second she managed to open them she noticed a figure sitting in front of her.

‘Nice of you to finally join me’. The figure chuckled, ‘It took a large amount of drugs to keep you knocked out. I trained you well.’

Lane.

A haggard version of the man she spent 2 years doing every bidding.

‘We’re owed a reunion and a rematch don't we, my dear Ilsa’. He took her face in his hands his callused hands tightening around her jaw, smirking she was putty in his hands.

‘You're not speaking my dear? I thought you'd have plenty to say to me’.

Heading towards the open door he turned at the doorway, ‘I'm gonna give you time to think until that pretty boyfriend of yours figures out where we are. Then I’ll be a man and kill you myself.’

Taking notice of her current predicament, she noted her ankles and wrists were bound tight, sores already forming.

As she was deciding on whether to dislocate her thumb, her wrist snagged on a sharp edge on the back of the chair. All the spy movies loved this cliché and for once she was glad it was happening.

She had to work fast, not knowing when Lane would come back into the hut. Her wrists released themselves from their binding, she immediately worked on releasing her legs fingernails beginning to bleed at the frantic speed at which she was working.

Click.

A loaded gun. The cold metal was placed against her forehead ‘My sweet Ilsa, I always am shown why Atlee chose you. You never disappoint’

Glancing upwards, she met Lane's eyes his gaze cold but joyful. He loved getting a rise out of those who crossed him.

‘I'm glad’

Neither of them moved both poised, when all of a sudden it was like a bullet had been fired and the fight began.

Drawing a knife from her boot, she lunged for Lane whilst grabbing his gun with the other hand. Knocking him backwards from the force of her attack, the gun falling from his grasp.

Swiping her blade aiming for his throat but taking any damage that would occur. The surprise of her attack quickly wore off, Lane began to block her attempts with his own.

A fist collided with her cheek and knocked her back a step. Another landing on her ribs sent an alarming crunch throughout the room.

She folded in on herself, exaggerating her pain from the broken ribs, waiting until he was close enough till she could grab a hold of his arm and use his momentum to flip him over her back.

Before Lane had a chance to react she threw herself on top of him wrapping her hands around his throat and applying all the pressure she could.

He scrambled underneath, fear in his eyes at the strength of her attack, attempting to rip her hands off him. She was squeezing with all her might but her power was in using her thighs to choke. Lane knew her inside and out she didn't want to be too predictable.

She was about to change tactics when a hand in her hair dragged her backwards with such force throwing her against the wall of the hut.

Not taking any time to find out who had joined, she kicked out at her attacker's legs. Swiping their feet, toppling them onto a winded Lane giving her the chance to run for it out the open door.

She had no plan but to run as far away as she could, Ethan was bound to be looking for her now. How far she would get she didn’t know, the pounding in her head was beginning to grow and the broken ribs were stealing her ability to breathe.

The sound of a twig snapping alerted her to someone coming up behind her, the drugs were making it harder and harder for her to react. Her body was now just running on pure fear to keep herself alive long enough for Ethan to find her.

Her new companion spun her around, her arms subconsciously wrapped themselves around her stomach, revealing their identity.

‘Trevligt att se dig igen. Du kommer inte bli lika lätt den här gången’.

Viktor. The bone doctor.

He had a talent for evading death. She wanted to either run or fight back but her limbs had suddenly become heavy. All she could do was watch Viktor as he got a firm grip on her arm and he plunged her own knife deep into her shoulder.

‘Karma är en jävel, eller hur? det gör väl ont ?’

All she could do was keep her body upright as he smirked at the blood pooling on her shoulder and grabbed the handle twisting the blade deeper. Blinding pain took over her body as she felt the blade twist deeper, she was not sure how much longer she could hold on.

‘ILSA !!!’, when did Ethan get here? She could barely see his figure moving towards her as her vision began to swim and her body felt like a lead weight as she fell to the ground protecting her stomach.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Pulling up over the top of the mountain, chaos and horror awaited him. Ilsa writhed in the grip of Viktor, his vicelike grip being the only thing that was keeping her upright. She wasnt fighting back, her arms hung loosely at her sides, there was no recognition of her knowing he was there her eyes glassy and unfocused.

The powerful, badass spy he normally knew was not the one he was currently running towards. A breath hair away from reaching Ilsa, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she dropped to the ground her body curling in on itself. Viktor let go as if she was a discarded ragdoll he no longer wanted to torture.

Resisting running to her side immediately, he focused on Viktor. He wasnt going to let him off lightly this time. He was going to make sure he was dead this time, and let one shot from his gun hit the centre of Viktor's heart dropping the swede instantly.

He didn't want to fight the man, it wasnt worth the risk of getting injured fighting a man double his height. Somehow Lane had slipped away again. Hopefully, for good, Ilsa was on the brink of death and he’d mentally manipulated Ethan, all everything he set out to achieve

The helicopter blades could be heard coming over the mountain top, Benji had mentioned as they drove that Julia was working at the medical camp, he must have sent a call for help as they reached the scene.

He wasn't gonna let go of Ilsa until they pried her out of his hands. Her body felt like glass in his hands, the blood flowing out of the knife wound wasn’t slowing her face getting paler as the seconds went on.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking at Ilsa’s results, something was wrong. Ilsa was above peak physical condition, nothing should show up abnormal. All standard tests, which included a pregnancy test for any female regardless, had been run and she should pass all.

Shit.

Her hCG levels were elevated.

Ilsa was pregnant. Ilsa was expecting Ethan's baby.

She was 3 months pregnant. This would explain why Ilsa's body fought them when she was brought in, her body was protecting the baby.

Grabbing the abdominal ultrasound she wondered if Ethan knew. Ilsa had broken down her walls around him but was this a wall that either had discussed? Ethan hadn’t mentioned anything when they rescued Ilsa and neither of the boys had shown signs of knowing.

Running the ultrasound over Ilsa’s stomach the relieving sound of the baby's heartbeat filled the small tent. Well, she hoped it was relieving, hell did Ilsa know herself?

She suspected she did from the Brit cradling her stomach as she drifted in and out of consciousness during the flight. The heartbeat was steady, the baby was safe and healthy which was lucky considering what Ilsa had been through in the last 24 hours.

The radio attached to her hip crackled to life announcing the helicopter making its way back with the rest of the team. They had to leave them behind to make room for them to work on Ilsa. Luther had to hold onto a struggling Ethan, who had fought with all his might to come with them.

She had about 5 minutes before they would get back to the tent, giving her enough time to pack any baby-related items away. She figured Ilsa needed to be the one to tell Ethan herself.

As she was busying herself with tidying, the heart rate of the British agent signalled she was beginning to ruse. Eyes flickered open to meet hers, pain whimpers followed as she came to.

With a hand on her none injured shoulder, she spoke softly ‘Ilsa, hey it's ok. It's Julia, you're in the med camp. You're injured from the kidnapping and fight, Ethan and the team are safe and are on their way.’

Once the meaning of her words sunk in, Ilsa began to calm. ‘ I, I…’

‘Don't push yourself, save your voice for Ethan’, striking blue eyes travelled along the spy’s own body taking note of the injuries and finally landing on her stomach.

Knowing the question she was thinking, she answered for her,

‘The baby is fine. You're about 12 weeks, I’ve not put it in your notes and told the team to not tell the others-’ Ilsa then met her eyes ‘- I figured you'd want to tell them’.

Hearing the helicopter land in the distance, she put the last piece of equipment away before turning back to Ilsa.

‘Whatever you decide to do, I'm here. Whatever is running through your head, ignore it, Ethan will be happy whatever you decide. He loves you and will support you through every step.’

Ilsa spoke for the first time since waking ‘Than- thank you, Julia. I want Ethan’

Returning the smile, she placed a gentle kiss on her friend's hairline ‘He’s arriving at the camp now, he’ll be here any minute’ before making her way out of the tent.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The helicopter hadn’t even turned its blades off before he was barreling out of it tearing along the path to the med tent.

Finding the main tent he bumped into Eric who was making his way out, grasping his arm as he passed ‘ It was touch and go, we did lose her once but she's ok. She’s asking for you.

She seemed at peace lying on the small hospital bed, monitors surrounding her, a rhythmic beeping sound. The sound reaffirms Eric's words, but he needed to see for himself.

A black eye and a bandage going from her eyebrow to the hairline adorned the left side of her face. A blanket was drawn up to mid chest leaving her shoulders bare showing the thick bandaging adorning where the knife had been mere hours ago.

Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn't sleeping, she wouldn't until they were back in a safehouse. Reaching her side, he resisted reaching out; he didn't know what had happened between her and Lane.

As if she could read his mind, ‘It's ok, Ethan. I need you please’.

Avoiding the painful side of her face, he cupped her cheek in his hand and placed a gentle kiss on her lips which she faintly reciprocated.

His lips rested on hers as he placed his forehead tenderly against hers. Neither spoke for a while both basking in each other's touch.

The warmth of her skin under his, reminded him she was here. She was back with him. The warmth reminded him how close he had been to losing her up on the mountains.

Blue eyes met his, saying all the words she needed to say to put his mind at rest. That she was back with him and not to beat himself up.

Though the comfort in her eyes turned to concern, ‘Ethan, I. There’s something. I have something I need to tell you ’. There was an intense look on her face as if her thoughts were fighting with each other

He wasn’t sure what was happening. Since getting together both of them had worked together on communication with each other, good or bad.

Ilsa gazed off into the distance seemingly afraid to meet his eye contact. ‘ I was going to tell you back in Denmark but I didn’t want you knowing and risking Lane knowing too. I just need to know that whatever happens, you’ll stay here. Please don’t run as I’m just as scared as you.’

He kept quiet, instead reaching out to hold her hands stilling them from the anxiously fidgeting.

‘I. Ive been noticing symptoms for the last few weeks that i was putting down to the back to back missions, hoping that avoidingg them would make them go away. Ethan. Ive been late for the last few weeks. Ive been tired, hungry and nauseated all the time’, she finally looked back at him letting the words sink in.

He couldnt believe what she was telling him. His mind was numb, he had never thought about this step in his life. Neither of them had so it was inevitable the way they messed around.

The fear of his reaction was scaring her,‘Ethan please say something’.

He seemed lost in his head before that classic Ethan smile adorned his face ‘You’re… pregnant ? We’re having a baby ?’. He seemed to start vibrating with excitement as she guided his hand to rest on her stomach.

"We're having a baby Ethan. We’re becoming parents’

His other hand came to rest under her chin tilting her face towards him, keeping his other resting on her nonexistent bump ‘ I love you. I love you. Whatever you decide to do next I will support you every step of the way. I never thought I’d become a father, but I am so excited to take this path with you’

The emotions were too much to answer him so she pulled him to bring his lips to hers communcting her feelings to him. She was scared of what was to come in the coming months as she stepped into the world of motherhood but she knew that Ethan would be by her side every step of the way.

Swedish translation- nice to see you again. You won't be getting off as easy this time

“Karma is a bitch, isn't it. That hurts, doesn't it?

@radical-sky @izzypuppybutt @justabigassnerd

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k-s-morgan · 2 years ago

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Hello! Hope you are doing ok <3 I’m a big fan of your work, particularly Black Butler and Hannibal. I have some questions and sorry if this is too long, please don’t feel you have to answer any of them.

I was rereading TGSTLTH and it got me thinking in a "what if scenario".

Sebastian met Lau and formed a contract with him before meeting Ciel. We know in different circumstances, this is something Sebastian would likely do.

Let’s say Ciel found another way to escape the cult and is still the sole survivor of his family, still the Queen’s Watchdog looking for revenge (albeit by strictly human means).

Lau is still an informant and sometimes works with Ciel. As Lau's servant, it's only natural than Sebastian and Ciel would end up meeting this way.

Do you think Sebastian would have been equally fascinated with Ciel’s soul to the point of trying to trick Lau and end his contract sooner? What would you think Lau's wish would have been? He’s such a mysterious character, he's smart, unprincipled and is always trying to get profit or an advantage in any situation. So I don’t know if it would be something like power, money, etc.

Also, super off topic. Are you an anime/manga fan or Black Butler was an exception for you? If you are into that, what are your favorite anime’s or mangas?

Hello! Thank you so much - and no worries, no question or ask is too long! I might need some time to respond to them, but I'm always happy to get them.

Your 'what if' scenario is absolutely brilliant, I love it to bits and I weren't already busy with two big fics, I'd be excited to explore it properly! For now, here's my take on it.

In my opinion, yes, Sebastian would be absolutely interested in Ciel, growing more smitten with each new meeting. I really think that he and Ciel match each other perfectly, to the point where they would be drawn to one another regardless of the setting and circumstances.

At first, I think Sebastian would try to honor his contract with Lau. He is surprisingly decent for a demon most of the time, he understands what integrity is and he has principles. The problem is, I think Lau's wish would be big enough to keep Sebastian busy for years.

I'm not sure what Lau would desire, he is a mysterious character, but I think it could involve something like becoming a king of England. He despises Queen Victoria, he despises what was done to his country by Britain, and he'd be petty enough to want to be become a ruler as a huge 'fuck you' to the system. Sebastian would probably find such a wish interesting and creative, considering that Lau is smart and has an unconventional way of thinking. It's not some fool dreaming big, it's a man with a sharp mind and clear agenda - there is such a huge territory for having fun. Sebastian would be excited. Once he meets Ciel, though...

It will develop gradually. He'll express an interest in Ciel, ask Lau about him, snoop around to see what other people know. He'll start noticing that his days get brighter and more exciting when Ciel comes with a request; he'll engage him in conversations, follow his investigations and admire his cunning. With time, Sebastian will try to manipulate Lau into taking a more active part in Ciel's work, deepening their partnership. Lau will be surprised but curious and willing to comply.

Sebastian will spend his free time with Ciel, either interacting with him or watching him like the creep he is. Eventually, he will get so fixated on Ciel that he won't want to be parted from him. He'll want to involve himself into every part of his life, so Lau will become a hindrance. Sebastian will start carefully changing plans, trying to find a way around Lau's contract or yes, to trick him into ending it earlier. He'll get more and more persistent and agitated, and Lau, being smart and observant, will decide to save himself. He'll offer Sebastian an out of some sort, willingly releasing him from the contract in exchange for his soul and maybe a favor or two? Sebastian'll be amused and pleased, so he'll agree and instantly go to Ciel.

Ciel, after all this time, will have a plan of his own. He'll keep Sebastian close but he won't enter a contract with him, claiming that he needs time to come up with a good wish. Sebastian won't mind, and before he knows it, he's helping Ciel and staying with him for years without any seals or oaths. And maybe they help Lau get his wish just for the sake of it :D

Oh, and about your last question: anime is largely hit or miss for me, mostly miss. Many series have amazing plots but I just can't get behind the style. I still love Sailormoon - this has been one of my biggest fandoms when I was a kid, and I still enjoy the plot; I like Strawberry Panic, even though the idea is better than execution. I liked Betrayal Knows My Name a lot and was sad that it has just one season. As for manga, I tried reading some, but even though I found them interesting, in the end, I couldn't finish them. It's just not my thing - I require more text and descriptions :D

#sebaciel #kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #lau #my fics #personal

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fanfic-inator795 · 9 months ago

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**Random fandom related rant incoming regarding ROT//TM//NT, don't like don't read**

Okay so, if any of you have followed me for a while, you know that I was in the Rot//TM//NT fandom for like three years before eventually leaving for the most part, save for occasionally peeking in on things (and taking part in the second Fashion zine, which is still in-progress if anyone's wondering).

When I left the fandom, my major point for WHY I left was that I felt like the fandom was becoming way too angst and gore heavy, being way too obsessed with post-movie stuff regarding the Kraang, the apocalyptic future, characters getting brainwashed/mutilated/going through ptsd/disturbing scenarios in general, etc.

This is still my main reason for why I'm still (and probably will always, regardless of how often I end up revisiting the show in the future) keeping my distance from the fandom. However, my other main reason is just the sheer fact that the fandom has a favoritism problem when it comes to the turtles - specifically the fact that Raph is essentially pushed to the sidelines in fandom works I'd say 85-90% of the time.

Just a reminder that I do not - and have not - check the tag every day so maybe my view on things is skewed, but of the ROT//TM//NT stuff that still makes its way into my Tumblr view space or YouTube algorithm, this is definitely how things seem to be.

In general, when it comes to art and fics and edits and all that, pretty much 8 times out of 10 it's going to be focused on either Leonardo, Donatello or both. Without a doubt, when it comes to fan creations involving the turtles, these two get the most solo-pieces. Like- at this point it's not even close. It cannot be denied that they are the fan favorites.

Mikey is next in line, because he's the funny and cute and chaotic youngest sibling, and then Raph is dead-last, getting the least amount of solo-pieces. Hell, half the time when I see Raph included in an art piece/fic/edit, it's only because it's centered around ALL the turtles, making him seem like an after thought. (and even then I've seen plenty of stuff where the artists/writers/editors focus solely on 'the twins' and Mikey, and then either don't include Raph at all or give him very little focus)

What's more, adding onto my frustration at just how angst-focused the fandom was when I left (and, from what I can tell based on my brief pop-ins, still seems to be) is that whenever you DO manage to find a Raph-focused fandom thing, it's him in these angsty or depressing scenarios/AUs, or he's crying over one of his brothers, or he's being the one giving comfort to his brothers.

Because that seems to be all the fandom sees him as! He's the protector, the Big Bro/Mom of the group, the one who dies first in the bad future, the one who we can project bad childhoods onto - though that's not to say that the others don't get projected onto either, they all absolutely do.

As such, you could argue 'oh well, this is just a part of the fandom, it's not a slight against Raph specifically' except it IS because while yes, all the other Turtles get plenty of angst art/fics/edits too, they also get plenty of fun stuff - memes and silly lighthearted scenarios and works where they get to be cool and badass. And as far as I can tell, Raph - for the most part - doesn't get that. At best, he'll get the fandom making jokes about how he's the dumb one or the emotional one. I remember coming across this one Hippoworm fic where all the other turtles got to participate in their wedding and form bonds with Warren and Hypno, meanwhile Raph was the one who ended up being the 'bad guy' of sorts, crashing the wedding because he was too oblivious to catch onto what was happening. This is what I mean when Raph just gets either horribly sidelined or shoved into the roll of support whenever he's not the one getting tortured or brainwashed.

Outside of specific 'Raph is best Turtle' fans/creators (who were already pretty rare back when I was still in the fandom...), you don't see the art of Raph being cool or wearing cool outfits like you do with Leo/Don/Mikey. You don't get fics where he's the full focus and gets to go on this big adventure or have this big interesting arc (AND IT'S NOT CENTERED AROUND TRAUMA, I feel like I have to emphasize this because again this fandom is just so angst heavy). What's more, you go to AO3 to find ANY non-angst/lighthearted Raph-centered fics and it's nearly impossible because, to fans, it seems like he's always got to be attached to one or all of his brothers. It can't just be him or, hey, I'll even take him and a side character/one of the villains (excluding the Mud Dogs because come on now those are literally just his brothers again). Just SOMETHING that lets him be an individual outside of his family - something that, again, literally every other character seems to get!

Even when it comes to something as simple as headcanons - I'd say 95 percent of people view the 'Donnie is autistic' headcanon as canon. But you could argue that Raph has just as many moments that come off as him having autistic traits, but most fans seem to either ignore these bits or see them as jokes, once again seeing Raph as the dumb one whenever he's not the group's shield or responsible one.

On the one hand, I can't fully blame the fandom for this as the show itself often shoehorned Raph into constantly being in a support role for his family. Going by the number of spotlight episodes he gets, it's really just "Mrs. Cuddles", "Sparring Partner" and "Raph's Ride Along", maaaybe "Mystic Library" (even though most fans only remember that ep for the Donnie Rap, let's be real here) and "Man VS Sewer", though the latter still has quite a bit of focus on the other turtles - otherwise he's strictly used as co-protagonist at best and sidekick to one of his other brothers at worst. He does get to land the final blow in "Evil League of Mutants", and gets a bit of extra spotlight in both season finales... buuut then gets kidnapped by the Kraang in the movie (which, regardless of how much it makes sense for the story, it still sucks to see Raph get tortured and put out of commission for more than half the film, essentially being used as a catalyst for Leo's development).

So yeah, hard to build off canon when the canon gives you so little. On the other hand, I still can't help but side-eye the fandom every time Raph - a large/plus-sized and not conventionally attractive character - is either pushed aside completely or strictly used to uplift or prop up the other three skinny 'pretty boy' turtles. Slotting him in strictly as the 'parent' of the group and essentially adultifying him or, even worse, putting him through tons of pain or killing him off so that the others can go through a guilt arc isn't that much better.

Now, could a lot of my feelings towards... all this be personal biases and my own bitterness at my fave being seemingly slighted by the fandom? Sure, you could argue that if you really want to. But from what I've seen, experienced and recalled from my days within the fandom, I feel confident that the points I've ranted about are founded in evidence. The fandom has a huge favoritism problem in my opinion, and it's this plus a distain towards all the angst and torture/gore-fics that have really soured my feelings towards Rise as a whole - and that feeling hasn't gone away.

That's the main reason why I wanted to just get all my feelings out (hence why I'm not tagging this rant), not to attack anyone in particular but just for my own personal benefit. I do hope that eventually I'll be able to rewatch the show (though probably not the movie) and fully enjoy myself without being reminded of all the fandom hang ups and other small annoyances I have with Rise. But for now, gonna be honest, I don't really regret leaving the fandom.

#apologies for the rant. just had to get this out #also I've got nothing else to do at work so #have basically been holding onto this since I've left the fandom

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m0llygunn · 1 year ago

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/735662509094289408

oh but it does ruin the friendship. ~the angst commences~ imagine him toying around with someone, only because his own life is so difficult to control and he’s sick of it. he’s sick of his life being so unpredictable and troubled, so he resorts to using someone else’s to play around and have fun with. he’s the puppet master and the poor person just takes it because they actually love eddie💔💔💔he wants to kiss them one night (because he feels particularly unlovable that day so what better way to release the pain by inviting his ‘friend’ over) and tells them exactly that, “a little kiss wouldn’t hurt our friendship”

so they kiss. and it all goes to shit. they go off on eddie, “i can’t do this anymore! you’re playing with my feelings and it hurts me so much…do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?! i can’t stick around you anymore, i’m out of here,”

and then eddie is left to think about what he’s done.

anyway sorry for the random story, i was just thinking about it cuz i sure love me some angst <///3 and i think it’s interesting to look into a side of eddie that wouldn’t be particularly likable. lmk what u think tho. do u think eddie would come to develop actual real feelings for this person? would he even apologize at all and would it even work out?

ok i’m done now hope u have a good day :) ✨

nono don't apologize i love the story, thank you!! also i love the puppet master analogy, obviously because of master of puppets, but also because I used to be a puppeteer at a local theatre company!! you're speaking my language lol

i'm just gonna put a read more here so that this isn't a long post, and clickable link here to the referenced post!

I also really like the whole 'unlikable' kind of characters thing, and especially with Eddie's background, I always think that him serving those sorts of motifs produces very fascinating storylines. Canonically he has such strong redeeming qualities, that I think giving him some bad qualities never seems all that terrible, plus its just fun and interesting to read! In terms of how it would end, in my opinion, I think it definitely depends! Sorry thats kind of a bad answer but it could go so many ways? Like in some scenarios it could be the catalyst to them getting together, but it also could be the catalyst of things going really wrong if Eddie isn't willing to change. I also think that if Eddie were to pick on someone it would be because he already likes them to start with, so he would have to go through a lot of internal processes to come into his own, and eventually be able to move forward for sure!

Side note— I've actually been working on a sort of 'morally grey' characterization so I'm interested which ending is your preference? Like angst angst or happy ending? (my thing's already written, I just haven't had it in me to edit it, but spoiler its kind of like those movies where nothing happens but everything changes, but also nothing changes? very unproductive storyline but I think that in itself is valuable because life follows that storyline quite frequently).

I read a fic before kind of like your story so i just went for a deep dive looking for it lol I think you might like it! You can click here for it :) This one is from Eddie's pov so theres a lot of his internal processes, and I think it's just a good read.

Another fic that comes to mind is a series. It's a bully!eddie three part-er (i think) with a pick your own ending (which i think is soso cool and you don't see very often), so maybe you'd want to check that out too! Link is here for that one! I also like how this one gives a preface to why Eddie becomes a 'bully' and I just really like the story in general!

If either links don't work, let me know! I'll probably reblog them after this too :)

sorry this was so long omg, but thank you again for sending me your story, I truly appreciate it and love it sm!! (also i saw your other ask and I want to write something for it but it might take me a while with exams and everything come up, sorry!)

#asks #fic recs

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genogenocrazycatman · 2 years ago

Text

Throne - Chapter 16

Throne [Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.Net]

Characters: Original Female Character, Red Haired Shanks, Benn Beckman, Lucky Roo, Yasopp,

***

“I can be very disarming.”

“Looks like you’ve been disarmed,” I jabbed, not looking up at him.

Benn let out a loud laugh at that.

Shanks grinned. “You wound me.”

“Clearly, I’m not the only one.”

Hello people. So if you don’t know, what’s going on here then the simple version is that this a Shanks x OC fic.

If you follow me, and the One Piece stuff I write, then you’ve probably heard me talk about this fic. Hey look it’s finally here.

***

Chapter 16

Of all the ways that I had expected my reunion with the Red-Haired pirates (which I admittedly thought about way more than I probably should’ve), silence was never an option.

In the scenarios my brain had conjured up, there was annoyance, confusion, indifference, and sometimes excitement, but never silence.

But as I stood at the entry of the tavern, silence was exactly what I was met with. The crew had paused their actions, seeming to freeze in place, save for Shanks, who was casually sipping from the mug in front of him, trying to hide his amusement at the whole situation.

I took the moment to take in the familiar faces around me. Lucky had been deep into some story, gesticulating wildly at Lime Juice, the mutton chop in hand further exaggerating his movements.

Yasopp was bent over the pool table, shot still lined up. The guys around him, either new to the crew or locals, stared in confusion.

Monster was unsurprisingly perched on Punch's shoulder, the two of them in a booth with Snake and Gab. Hongo was at the bar next to Benn, who, if I had to guess, had been chatting up the blonde woman sitting next to him based on the miffed look on her face.

An empty space was between her and Shanks, who just winked at me over his mug.

I shook my head, unable to fight the muscles in my mouth, as they pulled my lips up into a smile. God, they were idiots. “Red-Haired Pirates, speechless? Didn’t think that was possible.”

Benn was the first to recover, glancing over at the Boss before returning to me, smirking around his cigarette. “Good to see you, Liz.”

And just like that, the dam broke. A tidal wave of "Liz!" and "Lizzie!" crashed over me, leaving me momentarily stunned by the joy and excitement radiating from the crew.

Lucky quickly pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, my feet leaving the ground. I had barely touched the floor before I was picked up again. I let out a squeak as I was lifted and spun around.

Sure, I had hoped this would be a fun little surprise when I was with Shanks earlier. Maybe this would be a little 'Hey, look who's here!' moment, but I wasn't prepared for this.

I was back on the ground for maybe a second when Yasopp slung an arm over my shoulder. “Liz, how the hell have you been?” he asked, leaving the game of pool he was playing behind.

“That feels very unfair,” I said, nodding to his competitors, who maybe didn't quite realize they'd lucked out. I tried not to pull a face as I turned my head to the right, silently cursing the scarred skin around my neck for its lack of elasticity.

“Not my fault that the new kids don’t know better,” he snickered as he started leading me to the bar.

So, they were new crew members. ‘Good to know.’ "Hustler."

Monster hopped off Punch's shoulder and ran over, climbing onto mine. "Hey, Bud," I greeted, scratching the monkey's head. I could barely reach. "You're getting big." I looked over at Snake. "So are you. Where the hell did all that muscle come from?"

Snake smirked, looking at Yasopp as if saying, 'I told you so.' "Thanks, Lizzie. You don't look bad yourself."

"She never said you looked good," Shanks said. "Just bigger."

"Don't be jealous," Snake shot back.

"Don't be jealous, Captain. You already know who my favorite is-“ I winked at Benn over the blonde's shoulder. “But he's busy, so I'll leave him be."

"Guess you already knew, Boss?" Lucky asked.

"Of course he did," Benn said, looking over at the semi-circle we'd formed around Shanks’s seat. "He went out for breakfast, a real breakfast before lunchtime, and came back with that dopey look on his face."

Shanks shrugged and turned towards the bartender. "Whatever the lady wants."

“Generous as ever, Captain.” I turned to the woman behind the bar. “Whiskey neat.”

"I thought he was just still drunk," Yasopp said.

"You've been holding out, Boss," Hongo added.

"Don't blame the Captain," I said. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"It's a damn good surprise," Luck said.

"I think the biggest surprise was that the Boss kept his mouth shut," Yasopp chirped.

They all voiced their agreement.

"Hey! I am perfectly capable of keeping a secret," Shanks argued.

"Yeah, but you're incapable of keeping your mouth shut when it comes to Liz."

"Lizzie, when we were in the West, you were all he talked about, and when we left, it was even worse."

"’I wonder what Eliza is doing?’ ‘We shouldn't have left.’ ‘Eliza poured better.’ ‘We should've left something other than booze as a goodbye gift.’”

"It's not surprising that he kept a secret if Liz asked him to."

"With a crew like you all, who needs enemies?" Shanks asked no one in particular, looking up at the ceiling.

"Could it be? Are you actually embarrassed?" I asked. "Don’t you have to have shame for that?”

He snorted, looking at me with his signature grin. "Embarrassed that I talk about you? Never. That my crew is willing to expose me like this in a heartbeat? Only a little."

"You'd be lost without us."

"Why are you still talking about me?" he asked. “We have an esteemed guest to grill.”

"No, no, let ‘em go. I've missed this." And I had. Falling into the Red-Haired crew’s particular brand of chaos was easy. It’d only been a few minutes, but already I felt like I had fallen in step.

"Don't think that you're getting out of questioning, missy," Yasopp said with his hands on his hips, looking creepily like Rayne.

I cocked a brow as I took a sip of the drink the bartender just sat in front of me.

"We don't see you for years and go back to find out that you've left your home and took to the seas with no idea of where you went, and you have this harem-"

"Not you, too,” I groaned.

“-back in Aurora, who talk about you kicking slave trader ass and cashing in bounties. And then you show up in our territory a year later. That’s got to be one hell of a story.”

I nodded, not saying anything. I lifted the glass to my lips and drained it, gesturing to the bartender for another, and pulled myself up onto the barstool beside Shanks. Despite the gap between us, I could still feel the warmth that radiated from him.

New drink in hand, I opened the floor. "Alright, boys. What do you want to know?”

“What have you been doing?” Luck asked, plopping into a chair, more meat seeming to appear out of nowhere, replacing what he’d already eaten.

It was an easy enough question.

“Bounty hunting,” I answered. “Turns out I’m pretty good at kicking pirate ass, and it makes me a quick buck. I’m willing to take the Captain here off your hands if he’s getting to be a bit much.”

“Always.”

Shanks acted as if his first mate hadn’t spoken. “I thought I had more time before you began negotiations.”

“Just letting everyone know there’s interest.”

“Please, at least pretend to think about it before you turn me over.”

Yasopp scoffed. “Like we’d have you turn you over. The second she asks, you’ll go willingly.”

“You’re a pirate’s daughter and started bounty hunting?”

I nodded at Lime Juice. “I mean, I didn’t set out to become a bounty hunter. This annoying prick kept running his mouth about this girl he had locked up in his chambers. I guess she was from a wealthy family, and he was banking on a ransom. But he just kept fucking bragging about all the horrible shit he had done to her. Total fucking scum bag. And I couldn’t just let it go. I’ve been in her shoes before. Turns out he had a bounty on his head, so I cashed in. Two birds, one stone type of thing. Got reward for returning the girl too.

“From there, it was just convenient, making some cash turning in assholes who don’t deserve to breathe.”

“That how the harem formed?”

I swatted at Hongo. “Will you fuckers quit calling them that?”

“I don’t know. They talk about you just as much as the Boss, and he’d definitely be part of your harem.”

“How about the fan club?” Lime Juice offered.

“I don’t-“ I took a deep breath.

“We’ll workshop it,” Shanks added.

I narrowed my eyes at them. “Mimi, Naya, and Lyric were all victims of idiots I cashed in on, yes.”

“Explains why they think you walk on water. You saved them.”

“Yasopp, don’t you think that might be a bit hyperbolic?”

“Our girl, a hero. Remember when we called that at the tavern.”

“Ha! No. Heroes don’t do what I did to collect those bounties, Luck.”

“I don’t think you get to decide whether or not you’re a hero.”

“Yeah. Other people determine that.”

“And I should accept hero status from a bunch of pirates?” I questioned.

“No, but from the fan club.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t protest the name this time. Fan club was a step up from harem. “The girls had nowhere to go, so they asked me to start them back to Aurora. Figured that they could start fresh. And after what they’d been through, Tel wasn’t gonna be shit.”

“Glad that they’ve settled in with Rayne. How mad was she?”

“Oh, she went on and on about taking care of more strays, but clearly, the three of them are taking care of her, so I think she’s pretty happy.”

“Good. ‘Bout time the bat let someone take care of her.” Relief at their words seemed to start unwinding the knot I’d had in my back since I left Aurora.

“She was just as fiery as ever when we saw her last.”

I didn’t think much about Aurora as a whole, but I thought about Gene and Rayne often. Wondering how they were doing and how they’d adjusted since I had left. Despite their assurances that both were more than capable of taking care of themselves, I couldn’t help but worry.

Those two had done everything to take care of me while I was there and then everything in their power to help me finally get out. I owed them a lot.

“Any sign of the Old Man?” I asked.

“No,” Shanks answered. “Rayne said that your brothers mostly quit coming around after the first year, but he still sent them money to ensure they were taken care of.”

At least I didn’t have to worry about them going broke if the Old Man was sending them money. It was the least that he could do seeing, as he dropped me off and subjected them to his sons’ visits for years.

“You haven’t seen him?” Gab asked.

“Do you think I’d be here if I had?” I challenged.

I hadn’t seen my father or a single one of my brothers in three years. I knew they were looking for me, and I’d be lying if it didn’t weigh on me.

Being hunted was stressful. I didn’t have the opportunity to rest. The constant paranoia and fear that I was going to be found didn’t allow for it.

For the most part, I had stayed relatively clear of the Whitebeard Crew. I spent most of my time in the waters around Sabaody, or hiding out on islands controlled by Shanks, and occasionally sneaking through those loosely associated with Big Mom or Kaido when I was desperate enough. My brothers weren’t stupid enough to risk war without knowing for sure where I was.

There had been a couple of close calls where I’d barely managed to hide. The only reason I hadn’t been busted was because the crew members in question weren’t particularly close to me.

Had it been Marco or Izo, and Thatch in any of those situations, I would’ve been screwed. Fortunately, their responsibilities as commanders meant they could be away from their posts for too long.

“Fair point,” he conceded.

“There’s been chatter,” Shanks explained. “People know that his men are out looking for something. But people assume it’s related to the One Piece.”

“Better they think that.”

While I disagree with every bit of his methodology, I understood why my father had stuck me on Aurora. I’d already been targeted once for being his child. I wasn’t particularly excited at the prospect of it happening again.

“So why’d you finally leave?”

I was surprised that they hadn’t started with that one.

I sighed. “See, these fucking pirates showed up and gave me a little taste of freedom and a chance to leave Aurora, and like an idiot, I said no. But the longer I stayed there, the more frustrated I got. I couldn’t just let things roll off my back like I had, but I also couldn’t actually do anything. It just started wearing on me.

“I tried working through my frustrations by training with my brothers and honing my skills, something to keep me distracted. In hindsight, maybe I was trying to prepare myself to get the hell out of there finally.

“But the tipping point was a pirate attack.”

I shook my head, feeling the familiar anger rise up as I thought about that day.

“This fucking crew showed up. Hot shit, ready to head to the Grand Line. Docked and immediately attacked, torching everything in sight. They didn’t ask for anything; they just did it because they could.”

“You defended your home.”

“Of course, but it wasn’t easy. I won, but I got the shit kicked out of me. These weren’t your usual underprepared rookies. And they didn’t have to worry about hurting people or property damage.

“I just needed a couple of minutes to recoup and get the fuck out of there. But Tel saw his moment. The town was on fire; pirates were bleeding everywhere, and I could barely move.”

Faces around me turned, ranging from somber to outright anger.

“Stupid fucker shot me, and everyone just stood there and let him.”

I grit my teeth in annoyance. I had gone through hell to make sure that everyone survived, and it meant nothing.

I managed to transform just in time so that the shot didn’t kill me. Full Balor, blood pouring from my head, I struggled to get to the tavern, where I passed out in the back.

“Rayne and Gene got me cleaned up, and that was it. Rayne let me hide my shit. Gene got me a boat and vaguely mapped a course to keep me as hidden as possible, and I was off.”

“Please tell me you’re why he has that eye patch.”

“So he went with a patch, huh? Interesting. He telling everyone that he got it in some heroic bout?”

There was a moment of pause as realization set in. Darkened expressions shifted to satisfaction.

“You took his eye.”

I shrugged. “After what he put me through, it only felt fair.”

“Eye for an eye?” Shanks asked.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that underneath the drunken charm, Shanks was sharp as a tack and surprisingly perceptive.

“Something like that,” I said, winking at him. “I mean, I couldn’t leave him without a little parting gift after his years of hospitality.”

That caused a couple of the guys to chuckle. “Liz is the hardcore man.”

“Yeah, good for you. That prick had it coming.”

“Only you guys would praise me for gouging a man’s eye out.”

“For standing up for yourself,” Shanks corrected. “And for living your life for you.” He raised his mug into the air.

“A toast to Miss Elizabeth!”

“To Liz!” they chorused back.

I shook my head, clinking my glass against theirs and finishing off my current drink.

“You know,” I started. “The Captain said he thinks I can out-drink you all.”

“Them’s fightin’ words, Liz,” Luck warned.

I leaned back, resting my elbows on the bar behind me. “Bring it.”

“You’re on!”

“My money’s on Eliza,” Shanks said, pulling out a wad of notes.***

Previous | Next

***

Master List | Mobile Version

#teroin writes. one piece. fanfiction. red haired shanks. shanks x ofc. shanks x oc.#teroin writes #one piece #fanfiction #red haired shanks #shanks x ofc #shanks x oc

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m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months ago

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Someone gift me baby karasu with a bow that’s the only thing I’ll ever reply with when people ask me what I want LMAOO

I def wanna see them pro but something about seeing the pro would also feel bittersweet to me somehow?? Idk like now that they’re pro we KNOW it’s over but errrr idk I don’t have a better solution HAHA im ngl I was into kuroko no basket for awhile but it was way after it ended and I almost died with how the fandom was kinda inactive and lack of content im just glad that since BLLK is ongoing now it won’t be as barren lolol

I would tell you to search it up but you’re gonna wanna burn your eyes after…I only heard of it via booktok (Idek how I landed there because I don’t rlly read that much now either nor do I interact or follow any book accs? Thank god I’m out now I wonder if maybe some ppl just went viral) but oh my god why would you think of writing such a thing??? I honestly don’t have an issue with dark content either since I think it allows more exploration of deeper topics sometimes but idek the door and pillow thing wasn’t even dark topic it’s just..??? ???????? ????? I don’t know what to say but you’re on the dot with weird smut

Im hopeful that s2 will def get things going again!!! Like pls fill up Ao3 too like why’s there nothing there.

You’re so right….a very good choice on your end LMAO he def doesn’t fit the arranged marriage trope as well and his canon ninja background was the perfect set up for this!!!

OOOO IM EXCITED LMAOAOA can’t wait to see tabieitaken hollyhock au style…

OOOOOO WAIT THATS SO COOL?!?! On my toes waiting for the next installment o7 (also for whatever reason I think it’s so funny when people go [redacted] I laughed so hard maybe my humors broken)

Oops I meant the cursed child trope in the sense that everyone (or those around them) believe in it LMAOAO I think it’s more interesting when people around them buy into that myth and make their life hard as opposed to just flat out actual misfortune whoopsie

KARASU APPEARANCE no because I was thinking too like…is Mira gonna add Karasu…or are we omitting for the sake of keeping karasu a main lead type of thing…LMAO can’t wait though!!!

-Karasu anon

BABY KARASU W A BOW all i want for christmas is HIM!! he’s just a princess fr i love him sm

watching a fandom slowly die after the source material ends is the WORST at least the anime/epinagi are much further behind from the main manga so it’ll be a while before it’s over!! some series do stay generally popular even afterwards so hopefully bllk is one of those 👆🏻

HELP I JUST LOOKED UP THE PILLOW ONE WTF 😭 that’s not even dark that’s just bizarre…where are these people getting their ideas from 😔

i feel like jjk also blew up heavily with season 2 coming out (although tbf it was already hugely popular) so i think (hope) bllk will be the same!! obv not to the same extent as jjk because whatever is going on there is like unprecedented levels of popularity but for sure i do think more people will get into it now that more characters will be there and there’ll be more content

YES like otoya being a lord or highborn just doesn’t have the right ring to it!! he’s too unserious i could not see him being dignified or dutiful esp not in an arranged marriage scenario where he doesn’t even care abt his wife that much. karasu or yukimiya 100% (more so yuki but karasu could make it work i think). ninjas tended to be lowborn/peasants too so it’ll be interesting to juxtapose him and y/n + show him interacting with a lot of the characters who ARE more noble (y/n, yuki, etc).

TABIEITAKEN HOLLYHOCK AU MY FAVORITE MORALLY GREY ASSHOLES 💖 there is not one good person in that fic (except maybe anri) just some characters you do root for and some you don’t HAHA i’m excited for all of the reveals and character development i think it’s going to be sooo fun

YESS it’ll be clearer once i finish the story where i got my inspiration from. i love drawing from history as an inspiration!! like ofc i’m not going to go word for word but it’s nice to have something that i can reference if needed and build my own plot off of. i def think it makes hollyhock unique…like a) it’s a fic w OTOYA as the main love interest (not the usual suspects itoshi bros) and also it’s set in a relatively unusual setting + is engaging with a generally overlooked aspect of that time period. like forget being a weak lady who falls in love w her arranged marriage husband 🥱 y/n is scheming plotting killing etc etc (or at least she will be eventually). i love mcs who are just a little Not Normal and i really think this y/n is like that!! as shown when she was completely willing to sacrifice her half brother if it meant living. like yes 100% he’s an ass but also girl that’s still an entire life you do NOT gaf abt 😭 omg and otoya when he heard her say that…bro realized he had finally found someone to match his 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 💖 truly the otp we all never needed

ooh yes i do think y/n is a victim of that trope while she’s staying w the hiiragis!! although as much of it is just them hating on her because they hate that she’s such an embarrassment to them…i’m excited to show how other characters (otoya and co) react to the circumstances that make the hiiragis hate her!! it’ll def be interesting (and also a lot of it is based in actual japanese mythology/tradition…despite my disclaimer i actually do enjoy researching and sprinkling in details like that!! i just had that in there in case some historian type of person came to my comments freaking out abt how something or another isn’t accurate 😭)

i feel like karasu HAS to be there HAHAHA it truly wouldn’t be otoya if his bestie isn’t present especially since yuki exists in-universe too!! he’s also going to be super important to the story but it will break my heart knowing that things w him will never be romantic 😔 though honestly “romantic” is a stretch even for y/n’s eventual relationship w eita 😰 it will be intense and passionate and pining and many other such things but unfortunately with all of the political nonsense they’re up to (unifying the warring states and whatnot) there won’t be too much time for a healthy proper relationship. long story short expect a slow burn 😈

ALSO BTW I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE INVESTED IN THE STORY writing fics for random characters is sooo hard sometimes because there’s usually not a lot of engagement/feedback 🤒 as long as i have even one reader who likes to yap w me i can usually manage it though so i am very grateful for you bae 🫶🏻 doing the otoya nation a great service

#answered asks #hollyhock

0 notes

leggerefiore · 2 years ago

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(nsfw) if i may request: what kind of scenarios do ingo and emmet think of when they get off to the thought of the reader? can be either with them in a relationship already or just terrible horny pining. for me i think ingo would think of them in a house robe and nothing else cooking him dinner and he’d feel soooo guilty for it but he just can’t help himself. for emmet maybe after a long day he fantasizes about his Good, Definitely Platonic Friend grabbing him by the tie and pulling him into a gear station bathroom stall for an impassioned romp - 🍊

I do think Emmet would do that in a stall, but also my brain, despite writing the train sex fic, screams public restroom Nasty.

cw: 18+ content, jerking off

▲Ingo▼

● On the off chance he finds himself yearning about sex, his brain tends to wander to the oddest places. Ingo finds himself flustered as he runs off to the bathroom at work to achieve some relief, not wishing to make a call to you. His hands undo his belt and tug down his slacks and underwear. He stares at his cock while his mind tries to give him images that don't make him feel awful about doing this.

● Teeth dig into his lip as he thinks of your voice welcoming him home, the scent of a nice dish heavy in the air. He drops his bag and shuts the door before you approach in an apron that barely covers your exposed body. It hugs you just right, complimenting your form and curves. He flinches as your arms come around his neck to tug him down. Before he knows it, he's pinned against the wall as you nip and bite at his neck. His brain rushes with feeling and heat.

● Ingo shakes his head. No! That would make going home awkward. The scene shifts according to his wishes. You are laying on your bed with lacy lingerie decorating you. Candles flicker around. You beckon him closer, and he finds himself on top of you. His cock is surrounded by your familiar heat. You beg for him to come inside you. He groans as quietly as he can to himself in the station's office bathroom. Pumping his cock, he tries desperate to believe it's you handling him.

● Another thought takes him of you riding him in his office chair. You pull at his tie to choke him slightly, and whisper something close to a command in his ear. His cheeks burn as he tries to pretend the thought of you telling him what to do in the room where his authority was seemingly always final was not getting him off as much as it was. His cap sits on your head and his coat hangs off your shoulders. Ingo moans as he imagines you bouncing up and down, the slapping of skin coming from his hand.

● Finally, he comes into a wad of toilet paper. It's flushed, and his slacks are pulled back up. With his belt buckled, he walks out of the bathroom while trying to pretend he hadn't just jerked off. He doesn't fail to notice the appearance of Emmet at his desk, who cuts his eyes at him. Ingo sits back down and begins to review the documents he left abandoned during his bout. Emmet clears his throat, “Brother, be quieter.” The older twin desperately tried to ignore the mortification that paralysed his mind.

▽Emmet△

○ The Subway Boss hums as he enters the bathroom and locks the door. He had a problem. A problem that he couldn't call you to help him with since you were currently out of Unova. Emmet could handle this. He had for years before meeting you. His cock is quickly freed from its prison as he thinks about what a good scenario is. You as a Galvantula hybrid? Sounded nice, but not possible in reality (sadly).

○ Instead, he thinks of beating you in a battle on his super line. You're mortified to have lost to him and frustrated. Emmet eats up your expression as he manages to convince you that the winner's price was the loser has to give the other head. You sigh and follow behind him as he sits on the bright blue seats. Soon, his cock is between your lips as you look up at him. The warmth of your mouth is wonderful as you bob up and down his length. He stops himself before he comes, however.

○ Emmet shakes his head. Nice thought, nice scenario, but he's done it many times in real life. Instead, he thought of another situation. Somehow, you got caught in one of his Galvantula's webs naked. You are nearly immobilised by it, but you both think it's hot. Before he realises it, he's over your restrained form, humping in and out of you. Your moans and cries are music to his ears. He's losing his mind for a moment. In reality, he stops himself again. Soft pants leave him as he ponders why he didn't just let himself get off to that fantasy. It was such a nice one.

○ One more, he decided. One more and then he'll let himself come. Closing his eyes again, Emmet tries picturing another scenario. You're both sitting at the table while he controls a vibrator buried inside you. Your face contorted with pleasure as he messes with the settings. Every time he knows you're close to coming, he nearly just turns it off. You whine and beg for him to let you come. He hums and asks for the magic word. A murmur of master leaves your lips, and he turns the setting on high, loving your loud sounds and contorted face.

○ Emmet comes into a tissue with a soft cry. He whines to himself as he throws unto the toilet and flushes it away. His slacks are quickly fixed. Leaving the restroom, he finds himself more annoyed than anything. He missed you. His hand was nothing in comparison to you! Ingo watches as he marches to his desk and immediately scribbles out half the paperwork before they get off. The older twin bites his lip. Hopefully, you would return soon.

#ingo x reader #emmet x reader #ingo/reader #emmet/reader #nastystuff #smut

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dreamofbecoming · 2 years ago

Text

pale shadows of forgotten names

so people seem to be enjoying my writing lately, and i realized i never properly posted my first witcher fic on here when i first wrote it- i posted a link to the ao3, but i wasn’t super active in the fandom yet and i didn’t make it readable on tumblr. so i thought i would share it here now, in case anyone is interested, and because it’s nice to have all my writing together in my tag on here

pls note i knew even less about the non-netflix canon then than i do now, so everything about spying is just made up lmao

ao3

geraskier, post-s2, getting together

rating: t

wc: 13k

“Might be best if I stay out of Redania for a while, actually.”

“If you get arrested, I’ll just break you out again. There’s a book there I need, the copy in Kaer Morhen’s library was destroyed. Vesemir said he knew someone in Oxenfurt who might be able to get his hands on one.” Geralt’s tone, as usual, leaves very little room for argument. Luckily, Jaskier has never needed much room when it comes to arguing. Certainly not with Geralt.

“It’s not just that, I really shouldn’t get close to Tretogor anytime soon, either. Especially with Ciri being hunted by half the Continent.” He’s hoping desperately that they won’t ask why, but who is he kidding. His luck is never that good.

“And why, exactly, is Tretogor a problem? Not that we would want to parade around a capital city regardless, but I’m curious. Oxenfurt I get, they’ll be looking for the Sandpiper, I’m sure, or at least the twit that broke out of their jail, but what’s in Tretogor?”

Damn the fucking witch, always too perceptive for her own good. And to think he was almost starting to like her. Well, at least the familiarity of wanting to claw her eyes out is comforting.

Jaskier sighs. He should probably be honest with them if they’re going to travel together, though who knows how long that state of affairs will last this time. Still, he’s not going to risk Ciri. He’d have kept his silence if it were just Geralt and the witch- he already has, in fact, and it worked for nearly 20 years, after all- but Ciri is precious cargo. The rules have changed.

Plus, Yen could probably just read his mind now that she has her magic back. Fucking sorceresses.

Speaking of, “Alright, but not here,” he sighs. “Wait until we make camp and Yen can set up wards or silencing spells or something.” He hasn’t noticed any white owls following them, but she’s always been good at avoiding being seen. That’s sort of the point, he supposes.

“Who do we need wards from, Jaskier? Are you being followed? Should I have left you behind? Did I put Ciri in danger by trusting you?” Geralt’s voice is hard, and Jaskier feels hurt pool in his belly for a moment before cold anger takes its place again.

“Considering I just traipsed halfway across the continent and back, no questions asked, and nearly died trying to help stop a fucking demon from killing her, what the fuck do you think, Geralt? I’ll remind you that only one of us has known and loved her since she was small. Do you really believe I would do that to her? To you?” And maybe that last bit wasn’t really meant to come out, certainly not in that small, sad little voice, but Jaskier is nothing if not a master of pushing through slip ups and missed lines. He’s a goddamn professional. He doesn’t let his expression change where he’s glaring up at Geralt’s stupid, angry, handsome face. Fucker.

He’s traveled with Geralt a long time. Almost a quarter century, on and off (including this last year, which was most decidedly off), more than half of that physically by his side. He knows the Witcher’s face better than he knows his own, and he can predict Geralt’s reaction in almost any scenario you care to name. A perceived threat met with scorn will make him double down on his anger, almost guaranteed. Jaskier knew this going in, but he didn’t spend half a year belting his rage and betrayal to every student and passing traveler in a hundred miles (not to even mention the whole ‘living through a massacre’ thing) to be cowed by Geralt’s glower now, no matter how distressingly sexy it may or may not still be. Or how it maybe still makes his stomach twist with something sick and anxious at the idea of having disappointed him. Again. Fuck that. Geralt has no right to be disappointed in him, not this time.

So naturally he’s a little shocked when, after a few more seconds of unreasonably attractive scowling, Geralt, improbably, backs down.

He heaves a sigh where’s he’s perched on (new) Roach, a sleeping Ciri safely ensconced in his arms on the saddle in front of him. His eyes fall shut for a moment, and when they open, the cold fury is gone, replaced with something that looks a lot like…regret? Sadness? It’s hard to tell in the dark, but regardless, the air of melancholy around him right now is out of character for this particular situation, and extremely disconcerting. Jaskier is definitely disconcerted.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Jaskier. I do trust you. There’s a cave not far from here, it shouldn’t be too hard to secure. We can make camp soon.”

Was that…an apology? An actual, genuine expression of remorse, unprompted and freely given? He pokes Geralt’s upsettingly firm calf, staring incredulously.

“Are you really Geralt? Do I need to check you with silver or something? Yen, read his mind. Is he some kind of Doppler? Is this actually our Witcher?”

Geralt’s face is flatly unamused, and he kicks out to swat Jaskier’s hand away. Luckily, Jaskier has decades of practice avoiding Witcher speed for annoyance purposes, and pulls his hand back before Geralt can accidentally break his fingers or something. At least, he thinks it would be accidental. Probably.

Atop her borrowed mare, curtesy of Kaer Morhen’s surprisingly impressive herd, Yen raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Geralt’s obvious irritation. “It’s a fair question, Geralt. Immediate, unsolicited apologies for bad behavior are not exactly your brand.” Jaskier is grudgingly impressed that she manages to keep the arch look on her face despite his current frigid distance from her. Apparently they’re not back to mutual teasing levels of familiarity yet, though he’s sure it will only be a matter of time before they’re back to forgetting he’s there mid-sentence to go fuck like stupidly attractive, scary, powerful rabbits. Won’t that be fun to live through again.

Geralt glares harder. Jaskier can’t actually see his face well enough to be sure, but he can always feel when Geralt is glaring, and the angry face quotient in the air definitely goes up a few degrees.

“Cave’s just up here. Jaskier, start setting up camp. Yen, wards. I’ll get Ciri and the horses settled and find something for supper.” He nudges Roach’s flanks and pulls ahead, aiming for a little gap in the trees near a rocky outcropping Jaskier can just barely make out in the scant moonlight. Conversation over then, at least for now.

Yen looks vaguely affronted. “Is it always like this? Traveling with him?”

“What, the glowering? Or the barked orders and being left behind?” If perhaps those words are a touch more bitter than they would have been a year and a half ago, well. That’s no one’s business but his own.

“Both, I suppose? The time I’ve spent with him has rarely been on the road, but he’s never been quite so…demanding. We didn’t exactly do much talking on the way to Kaer Morhen. I’m quite sure he would happily have killed me, or at least have been actively trying to shake me and leave me in the dust, if he hadn’t been so focused on getting to Ciri as quickly as possible.” There’s something brittle and harsh in her tone that feels uncomfortably familiar. It’s far too much like the heavy weight in his ribcage these days, sharp-edged and desperate and miserable.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!” The hurt and dread freezing his blood in his veins, ice cold and inexorable. The awful silence, waiting for him to take it back, to laugh, to say it was all a horrible joke, or even a dream. The yawning pit of heartbreak and despair that started to rend his chest open, as the reality set in that this was actually it, actually the end, after everything-

Nope. No. Absolutely not. He is done with that, thank you. He is quite finished reliving that moment again and again (and again), he has put it behind him, he is a different man now. A stronger man. A man who won’t betray the loyalty he promised so long ago, but who refuses to let his heart back into the mix this time. He wrote a song about it and everything.

Funny how he almost believes it.

“Oh, I’m sure he was always far more…solicitous with you, darling. This is pretty much standard. The apology is new, and I’m a little surprised he’s letting me set up camp unsupervised,” (this is said with an impressively deep eye-roll, of course), “but besides that, yeah.”

He should be offended that he’s surprised to be given that responsibility, probably. He’s actually a remarkably competent traveler, both with company and without, but even towards the end it rarely occurred to Geralt that Jaskier managed to survive by himself for months or years at a time, or that the camp ended up much the same as it started even when he felt the need to redo all of Jaskier’s work, or that he wasn’t the one cooking the food he hunted or patching his own wounds when Jaskier was around. Not even the handful of times their camp was targeted by bandits, and several of them were already dead by the time Geralt got to them, seemed to register. Or all the times he came back addled and injured from a hunt, and Jaskier knew exactly which potions he needed to recover, and where to find them. Jaskier isn’t sure the great White Wolf ever even noticed a difference. He’s once again a little amazed that it took him so long to see it, that those furious words on the mountaintop actually managed to catch him by surprise. Love really is blind, he supposes.

The cave isn’t huge, but there’s enough room for four bedrolls and a small fire pit without having to snuggle up too close to each other, and it’s dry and lacking in horrid smells or angry monsters, so Jaskier has definitely seen worse.

Roach is tied near the cave entrance, under a small overhang jutting out from the rock to provide her some shelter from the elements. He wants to ask what happened to the old Roach, his- well. Not his Roach anymore, he supposes, not for a while, but he was still fond of her. It had taken years to win her over, but they were good friends by the end, he thought. Certainly she was freer with her affection than her rider. (Which, he realizes now, probably had more to do with his dearth of affection actually available than with his crushing emotional incompetence.) It isn’t really his place to ask, not anymore, but he wishes he could. New Roach is fine, she’s admittedly beautiful and probably a lovely animal, but he misses his friend.

Jaskier has the camp fully set up and a small fire going, near enough to the entrance not to fill the cave with smoke, but far enough inside so as not to be easily seen, and Yen has left her mount next to Roach, filled their waterskins, and is finishing up with the last of the wards shielding them from being found or overheard, when Geralt returns bearing…an entire deer. Fucking overachieving cockhead. He’s cleaning that shit himself, Jaskier isn’t interested. It definitely isn’t sexy seeing Geralt stride in, slightly blood-spattered, biceps bulging, thighs flexing, evidence of his prowess slung easily over his shoulders like a king’s mantle…nope. Not sexy at all. Jaskier isn’t even looking. He certainly isn’t biting back an embarrassing whimper.

He turns around hastily to begin rummaging through his pack for his spices and cooking supplies, filched from Kaer Morhen, of course, since all he had on him when Geralt found him in Oxenfurt was his charm and good looks. He wishes he had his lute, but it’s probably in pieces, rotting in a rubbish heap in Redania. He’ll mourn her at some point. Besides, he’s not sure he would be able to stop himself playing Burn, Butcher, Burn just on reflex, so it’s probably for the best.

They eat a decent supper of venison stew, Ciri waking just long enough to scarf down a bowl and collapse back onto her bedroll. Demon possession and Sphere-jumping really seem to take it out of a person.

Yen tosses another silencing charm around Ciri’s bedroll (they’ll fill her in tomorrow- they don’t intend to keep secrets from her but she deserves her sleep) and Geralt gets to work packing the leftover venison in salt for the road, before they both look up at him expectantly with eerily similar, piercing gazes. Violet and gold, a royal combination if ever there was one. Oh, that’s nice actually, there’s a song in there somewhere. Not one he wants to sing, really, but he’ll probably end up writing it at some point anyway.

“Alright, sharing time, I guess. Always figured this was coming eventually. Not that I imagined anything like this, what with the demons and the horrible rock monsters and the dimension hopping and- yes, yes, alright, I’m getting to it. Calm down.” He heaves a sigh. Hopefully they don’t toss him out on his arse after this, or just kill him. He doesn’t think they’d kill him. Would they? No, they wouldn’t. Probably.

“So you know I’m technically Redanian.” Yennefer nods expectantly while Geralt just. Blinks at him. Fucking gods, honestly. “Wow, ok, you really never paid attention at all when I talked, huh? That makes sense, actually. I guess I should have figured that.” He’s staring into the fire to shield the hurt in his eyes, so he misses the matching look on Geralt’s face before he presses on.

“Anyway, yeah, I’m Redanian, from Kerack, Lettenhove to be specific. Seriously? I’ve introduced myself to a dozen people in front of you with my full name, you really never- ok, yeah, right, never mind. Moving on. Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. That’s me. Or, it was. Technically it still is, but I never wanted the title. I never wanted that life. I left for Oxenfurt as soon as I was old enough, and when I graduated I went on the road, and then. Well. Then I met you, and, well, you know. You were there. For the rest. Some of it, anyway. Right. Well, Vizimir, or more likely someone on his council, since Vizimir is about as savvy and creative as a garden slug, and almost as charming, and I’m not sure if Dijkstra was advising him at that point-“ He catches Yennefer’s sharp look at Dijkstra’s name, but barrels on, “-anyway, someone noticed that a minor Redanian noble was doing a lot of very visible traveling all over the Continent and associating with a lot of people the Crown wouldn’t normally have an in with, and figured that would be useful. I think at this point, we’d been traveling together…2? 3 years? Something like that. Long enough that I’d started building a name for myself, definitely. Or, for us, I suppose. That’s why they noticed me in the first place.”

He knows he’s babbling, but there are nerves roiling in his gut like a cauldron, and that feeling has always translated into more words, for him. Like a pressure valve. He pauses and risks a glance at the person whose reaction he’s genuinely worried about.

Yen will understand, she’s been in and out of courts and noble circles and political tangles for decades, she knows how this works. She probably won’t trust him, but he’s fairly sure she doesn’t trust him now, so that’s no great loss. He doesn’t trust her either.

Geralt has a more…rigid concept of morality. In Geralt’s world, there are Right Things and Wrong Things. Sometimes you have to do Wrong Things to prevent Wronger Things, but that doesn’t make them not Wrong. And anything to do with kings and courts is usually Wrong. There’s a good chance Geralt might never forgive him for this, or if he does, he won’t be able to look past Jaskier keeping it from him so long.

Geralt’s eyes are fixed on his face, sharp and intent, and utterly unreadable. Jaskier thought he had gotten pretty good over the years at reading the subtle shifts in Geralt’s expressions- the tiny crinkles around his eyes when he wanted to laugh, the minute furrow between his brows when he was confused, the slight tick in his jaw when he was frustrated- but his face is as blank as new parchment right now, nothing but the glint in his golden eyes that says he’s listening to every word out of Jaskier’s mouth.

What a time for him to start doing that, he thinks bitterly. Decades of tuning him out when he thought they were friends, and now that Jaskier might be driving him away for good (again, a tiny voice whispers viciously), he’s hanging on every syllable.

“I was approached by a member of the royal intelligence service, and told that the king had ordered that I be recruited as a spy. Technically I am still nobility, and as such I’m obligated to obey the crown. And while I would gladly give up all the trappings of my title and never be anyone but Jaskier the bard ever again, at the time there would have been serious consequences for refusing, and not the kind that would fall on me. I’m technically a Lord, and I do have people I’m responsible for. I left people in charge that I trust to take care of them in my stead, but it’s my name they’re working under. And if I refused a direct order from Vizimir, I wouldn’t be the one to suffer for it. It wasn’t an option.”

He doesn’t look up from the fire. He doesn’t want to see the expressions on their faces, so he presses on, heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“I did my best to keep my reports…not vague, exactly, but mostly useless, I guess? Obviously I have no interest in being a part of whatever bullshit Vizimir or any other king feels like stirring up, but I had to send them something. Little stuff, mostly, frivolous gossip from the taverns I played in, details of drama and rivalries I picked up in various courts or nobles’ beds. Sometimes accounts of monster populations or incidents if there was anything especially notable, since they knew that’s a lot of what I was doing with my time. Nothing actionable, but useful enough that I couldn’t be accused of shirking my duties.” He’s suddenly struck with an awful fear, and he looks up desperately into slitted golden eyes. “I never said a word about Ciri, Geralt, you have to believe me. I told them about that night, and I had to mention that Pavetta had magic because there’s no way that wouldn’t get out some other way, but I never said a word about a Witcher claiming a Child Surprise. I would never risk her like that, or you, you have to believe me. Please say you believe me Geralt, whatever you think of me, that I would never betray you like that. Please.”

He knows he sounds frantic, that he must look insane, that he can’t stop his begging mouth like a runaway cart, but the thought of Geralt thinking even for a second that Jaskier would ever put orders from a king he cared nothing for over Geralt’s own life, over the life of a child, is a knife in his gut, twisting and pulling until Jaskier thinks he might vomit if Geralt doesn’t say something.

The blank expression is gone, and Geralt looks somewhat taken aback. His brow furrows a little in what looks like confusion, before settling into resignation, or maybe chagrin. Jaskier thinks for a moment that he sees a brief flash of what almost looks like…grief? That can’t be right…in his eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it appeared, and Jaskier thinks he must have imagined it.

Geralt takes a swig from his waterskin and draws in a deep breath before speaking.

“I wasn’t worried that you betrayed Ciri, Jaskier. I know you would cut off your own arm before you did something like that. I don’t love where it sounds like this story is going, but I promise, I’ll never be concerned about that.”

That’s…well, those are more words than he was expecting, surely. And different words than he was expecting, too. He would assume that Geralt is placating him, to calm him down and get him to finish talking, but he can hear the sincerity in his voice. Geralt’s eyes are almost imploring, as if he’s as anxious for Jaskier to believe him as Jaskier had been to be believed. He…isn’t sure what to do with that, actually.

He knows Geralt came back for him, knows he was at least not lying when he said he missed him (though how much is anyone’s guess), knows he trusts him to travel with his…his little family, to help keep them safe or at least not make things worse, but he never assumed it went beyond that.

Geralt was clear, on that mountain. Even if he’s sorry now, even if he missed having him around, he meant those words at the time, and Jaskier has no illusions that he won’t get to that point again. Geralt may have spat those words in helpless anger, may have turned his ire on someone who had nothing to do with the state he was in at that moment, but Geralt doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. He says plenty of things he regrets, but he always means them at the time. He did, at one point, believe Jaskier to be a curse and a burden, and Jaskier is fully aware that he will come to that belief again, eventually.

He knows what that particular heartbreak feels like, now. He knows he can survive it, even if he wishes he wouldn’t, sometimes. Mostly, he knows that it will always, always be worth it. Geralt will always be worth it.

Gods but he’s a lovesick fool.

But now, instead of cold distain, or fiery wrath, or, worst of all, blank indifference, Geralt is looking at him like…like he’s sorry. Like he’s desperate for Jaskier’s forgiveness. Forgiveness for what? Jaskier is the one who hid the fact that he was a spy for most of their relatio- friendship. Acquaintanceship. Association. Whichever one wouldn’t piss Geralt off. Geralt hasn’t fucked up here, this time at least.

But he could never resist when Geralt asked him like this for anything, with genuine emotion instead grunted contempt, with even the vaguest hint of affection, like maybe Geralt enjoyed spending time with Jaskier, too. Like maybe Jaskier mattered to Geralt, at least a fraction of how much Geralt mattered to Jaskier. Gods above, he’s so weak for this man.

“Ok. Alright, good. That’s good. I’m glad. Thank you. I know I- anyway. Thank you. Right, where was I? Yes, ok, reports. So I kept myself mostly useless for pretty much the whole time we were together. I mean- not. Not together, obviously, but traveling together. As friends. Or not friends. Whatever. What was I saying?” He’s spiraling, fuck, he’s spiraling, he needs to get out of this, how does he get out of this?

Geralt is looking even more confused than before, but Yennefer is definitely laughing at him in her head. Witch. Like she isn’t just as much of a mess for him. She should be on his side! They bonded over this already and everything!

At least the indignation is enough for him to pull out of the whirlpool of awkward babble and self-sabotage he was trapped in, and he manages to right himself.

“Anyway! Ok! So! Right, well, things changed not quite a year ago, now, after the raid on Bleobheris.” He sobers at the memories, the scent of blood and the sound of screams suddenly heavy in the dry air of the cave. “It was…brutal. I’ve never seen anything like that, not in all my years Witchering with you. I wanted to help. I needed to do something, to…fix something. Anything, no matter how small. That’s when I was contacted by an anonymous benefactor, who offered to fund an effort to smuggle refugees to Xin’Trea. Word had spread about Nilfgaard’s alliance with the elves, that they could be safe there.”

“So the Sandpiper was born,” Yennefer says.

“Right. But I don’t like not knowing where my help is coming from and why. I may not have been a very useful spy in Redania’s eyes for the last 20 years, but it actually takes quite a bit of effort to be ineffective without being useless enough to fire or kill, and as it turns out, I’m actually quite good at it. Call it the performer’s heart in me, or something. So I was able to ferret out that the man behind the money was Sigismund Dijkstra, who had managed to get himself appointed spymaster to Vizimir, which, interestingly, made him my employer, as well as my benefactor.”

Yen looks up sharply again at Dijkstra’s name. Jaskier turns to her, curious.

“You’re familiar, I assume?”

“He’s been causing rifts at Aretuza, riling up the Brotherhood,” she says, brow furrowed. “Pretending to bring counsel and information but really just sowing discord. I’m not clear on the details, but I know elves were mentioned. There are those on the council who take issue with my heritage, so I try to keep on top of the rumors. I wasn’t at Aretuza for long, though, and I…didn’t exactly leave on good terms. I haven’t got many friends left there.” Geralt glances at her sympathetically.

Jaskier nods. “That sounds like him. I wouldn’t trust that man to clean my privy, much less provide thousands of crowns, probably from Vizimir’s coffers, for a worthy cause with no expectations of repayment.” He shakes his head. “I kept my suspicions to myself, though, the network needed the coin and regardless of his motivations, we really were helping people. I wasn’t going to let that go to waste.

“I guess, with me finally settling in one place for so long, and probably Dijkstra feeling like I owed him for the funding, even though I wasn’t meant to know it was him, they started expecting more from me, in terms of intelligence. I didn’t really have a choice, since now they always knew where to find me if they wanted to cause me problems, and besides, Dijkstra was already privy to the network’s efforts anyway as the main benefactor, so I figured it was mostly alright that I’ve had to give more…comprehensive reports to Vizimir the last several months.

“Since Cintra fell, most people know about Ciri, or at least that she’s on the game-board somehow. There are rumors of Nilfgaard searching for a Witcher, so I’m sure some people have put together that you’re involved somehow, but I don’t think too many of the courts, at least, have details. Just that Nilfgaard wants her and maybe there’s a Witcher involved. I made sure not to include too much information that they didn’t already have, but I can’t say for sure what every Northern king knows, or what the Brotherhood knows.” He glances at Yen, who shakes her head and shrugs.

“Anyway, so that’s the meat of it. The concern is that since I became an actual useful asset for them, they’ve been keeping a much closer eye on me. That’s why I was worried about the wards.”

“Alright, I can understand all of that,” Geralt cuts in. “I don’t like that you kept it from me, but I can’t fault your choices. You’re right that we can’t have them sniffing around you, not with Ciri in your orbit.” He frowns. “Would it be possible for you just…fall off the map? Disappear? Redania can’t demand anything from a missing viscount.”

Jaskier winces a little. “I would love to do that, the problem being that Dijkstra works closely with Tretogor’s court mage, who has the charming little talent of transforming into a bird whenever she wants.”

Yen’s eyebrows both go up this time. “Phillipa? She’s quite impressive. A little too entrenched in political intrigue for my taste, but I can’t deny she’s talented. Tissaia speaks very highly of her, certainly.”

She looks thoughtful as she gazes at him over the fire. “You’re worried she’s following you, then? For information on Geralt, since everyone knows Jaskier the Bard is the man to talk to if you want to know about Witchers.”

Her tone is…teasing? Is she teasing him? First hugging, and now teasing? Yeah, he’s not dealing with that right now. He sticks out his tongue at her (he does still have a bantering streak to uphold, after all) before nodding.

“I don’t know for sure if she was in Oxenfurt when Geralt broke me out. I don’t think so, but I certainly wasn’t combing every tree for owls, and there’s no chance of me noticing her out here in the woods. I’m just hoping that if she were around now, you’d sense her, Yen, and that she wasn’t able to bring back anything about Ciri or Geralt or Kaer Morhen to Dijkstra. Or you, either, since the Brotherhood are so unhappy with you.”

Yen looks surprised and very slightly pleased to be included in Jaskier’s concern. Or at least Jaskier thinks that’s the expression he can parse under her normal very scary murder face, which he finds is almost a relief to see. The soft regret and concern of recent weeks has been…unsettling. The sun rises, the rain falls, Yennefer of Vengerberg is gorgeous, aloof, and terrifying. This is the natural order.

Geralt is wearing a pensive expression, frowning slightly at where Ciri lies, sleeping peacefully. Dear girl, Jaskier hopes she isn’t having any nightmares. She’s been through hell lately, and she’s always had trouble sleeping anyway. Jaskier wonders if he can find the name of that tea Mousesack used to give her to help her sleep. Jaskier even tried it once or twice, when winter nights in Cintra without his Witcher’s soft, even breaths became too much; the stuff worked wonders.

“Alright,” he says eventually, nodding. “I’ll see if I can go to Redania myself, and leave you two with Ciri until I can get back. We’ll keep our campsites warded if we can, Yen, I don’t want you to wear yourself out, but some protection would probably be best. Are you able to see if you can sense anyone from here, or do you need to go outside the wards?”

“I’ll do a lap around the area, but there’s a chance anyone who is out there will sense me as soon as I start casting about. It would be best if you all stayed here, to protect Ciri in case someone actually has come for her.”

“I don’t like any of us going out alone, Yen, especially with the express intention of seeking out danger. I should go with you.” Geralt makes to stand and grab his swords from beside his seat, but Yennefer waves him back down.

“You’d only distract me, and besides, do you want to leave the totally untrained sorceress and the normal human alone here?” Jaskier makes an affronted squawking noise.

“Hey! I’m plenty competent, thank you!” He prudently ignores the minor inaccuracy of his humanity, and instead huffs at the matching incredulous looks he receives. “Rude. Honestly, I get no respect around here. I survived just fine on my own for years, you know! Besides, I traveled with a reckless idiot Witcher for 20 years, you pick up more than you’d think.” He glares at them both until Yen smirks and Geralt looks baffled and vaguely offended, but at least they both look away, which is an improvement.

Until the two of them end up in a stare off, clearly having some sort of emphatic conversation with their eyes alone, and Jaskier has to turn away to start putting away the cooking supplies they won’t need for breakfast tomorrow. He’s warming up to Yennefer, much to his chagrin, but he’s had quite enough of watching the man he loves eyefuck someone else, for this lifetime and the next, thanks ever so.

He hears Geralt huff, a sound he recognizes as him realizing whoever he’s arguing with is just going to do as they please anyway, and he might as well make the best of it.

He made that sound at Jaskier a lot. Usually when he talked his way into coming along on hunts, but really any time Jaskier wanted something from him beyond some seared rabbit, a fire to sleep beside, and monosyllabic grunts in response to questions (if he was lucky)- a night at an inn, a stop at a local festival, an actual hot bath with herbs and flowers and scented oils. Arms to hold him on especially cold nights, when blankets weren’t enough to warm (mostly) human skin.

Jaskier used to think it was cute. A game, just for the two of them, Jaskier pushing, Geralt pulling, or the other way around, always meeting in the middle (or, more often, closer to Jaskier’s side) with what Jaskier had always assumed was mutual amusement and affection. He knows better now.

There’s the telltale swish of Yennefer’s skirts, a strange popping sensation in his ears, and then the feeling of the wards coming back up behind her.

The silencing spell around Ciri is still up, as far as he knows, and she’s dead to the world besides, so it’s just him and Geralt now.

It isn’t the first time they’ve been alone since Oxenfurt, but it is the first time since Jaskier was invited (by Ciri, it should be noted, not Geralt) to travel with them as a companion, not as backup.

That one still stings, if he’s honest. He held out hope for months that Geralt would come back for him, would seek him out with a stuttered apology (or more likely a silently offered ale and an invitation to come with him to his next hunt). Maybe at a tavern, or the Seat of Friendship, or even a ball or musical competition where Jaskier was playing. He knows how much Geralt hates getting dressed up, how much it would have meant for him to go to that effort just to see Jaskier.

He imagined seeing him sitting silently in the back of one of his lectures one day, watching the lesson with quiet affection and waiting for him to be finished so they could talk. Imagined hearing the sound of Roach’s hooves coming up behind him on some backroad to nowhere while he strummed his lute in the sunshine.

He imagined a thousand different reunions, a thousand apologies, a thousand ways for them to turn back the clock. (During some of the longer nights, when he was alone in his rooms staring out at the moon through the window, wondering if Geralt was lying on his bedroll in a forest clearing somewhere staring up at the same moon, he imagined a thousand different love confessions. But he has no intention of admitting that to anyone but his own foolish heart. He may be a bard, and a hopeless romantic, but there’s no need to bare all of his weeping wounds, especially when there’s no hope of healing them.)

For all his daydreaming, he never imagined that Geralt would seek him out only when he needed an extra set of hands and all his other options were exhausted. Never imagined he would be not just a tool to be used, but the last resort as well.

He shouldn’t be surprised, after everything, but the knowledge that he was never really anything else to Geralt still aches like a broken rib, flashes of pain shooting through his chest with every inhale.

This is the first time they’ve been alone together without an immediate crisis, without a clearly defined mission beyond the open road, just like it used to be.

Except nothing like it used to be, because how it used to be is gone. It will never be that way again. Geralt burned those memories down, with words as sharp as swords and as destructive as dragon fire.

Jaskier has no fucking idea how to deal with this.

“Jas-“ Geralt cuts off and clears his throat. Jaskier can hear him gulping from his waterskin before trying again. “Jaskier.”

“Yes?” He tries to keep his voice light, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Jaskier, can we. Can we talk? Please?”

It’s the ‘please’ that does it. Geralt so rarely says please. Jaskier may need more than his fingers to count the times he’s heard it directed at him, but he can still remember each one in perfect clarity. Besides, they had more than 20 years together, “more than 10” is still not exactly a stellar ratio.

Jaskier’s resolve breaks (did he ever really have any? Has he ever had any when it comes to this man?) and he turns, schooling his face into something meant to look bright and open. He’s not sure how well it works. “Of course, Geralt. What’s on your mind?”

“I-“ Geralt looks…lost. He looks like he has absolutely no idea how to get where he’s going, and it’s killing him. Jaskier crumbles.

“You’ve already apologized, Geralt, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve forgiven you. You were angry, you needed a target, I was there. It’s behind us.” He looks at the fire, for lack of anything else that isn’t Geralt’s stupid awful gorgeous face, wishing desperately he had his lute. He never felt awkward with his lute. Never rubbed anxious circles around his calluses for lack of anything to do with his hands. Never sat in a silence so painful he wondered if his ears would bleed.

Geralt lets out a breath like he’s trying to remember how. “That’s not. I mean it is. But. I. Fuck.” Jaskier looks up from the fire to see him scrubbing a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. The adorable fool manages to get his hand tangled in the locks when he forgets about the band holding half of it back from his face.

“Oh for Melitele’s sake- stop moving, you lug, I’ll fix it. You’re going to tear it out in chunks if you keep pulling like that, just hold still, or I’ll have to rewrite all the songs to be about The Bald Wolf instead. Ye gods, Geralt, how did you survive without me? Honestly.” He’s across the cave and kneeling behind Geralt on the other side of the fire before he consciously registers the decision to move. Fucking hells, even his own body is against him.

He has his hands in Geralt’s (soft, silky, gorgeous) hair, untangling it gently from where it’s wound itself tightly around his (scarred, strong, beautiful) fingers. He thinks he hears Geralt’s breath catch, but he’s too distracted trying to keep his own lungs working at all to focus on it.

Once Geralt’s hand is free (and does Geralt seem as reluctant to let go and put his hand back in his lap as Jaskier is to let him?) Jaskier sets to work on the much more finicky task of removing the band without pulling half of Geralt’s hair out with it, which would honestly be a crime against…well, anyone with eyes really. Jaskier may be in love with him, but he’s also seen a truly exorbitant number of beautiful people across the continent, many of them naked, so he thinks he’s fairly qualified when he says that Geralt is one of the most singularly stunning people on the face of the earth, bias or not. Especially now that he seems to be taking better care of his hair than he used to when Jaskier wasn’t around.

Jaskier is actually rather shocked at how well-kept Geralt is. His hair is smooth and soft and clean, and smells like…is that apple blossom? That’s one of Jaskier’s favorite scents. It never fails to make him feel light and warm, like spring sunshine. He uses it in his own hair more often than the other oils he carries.

Back when washing Geralt’s hair for him was an occasional but deeply treasured privilege of his, Jaskier used to use it for him, as well. That Geralt has somehow, for some reason, gotten some of his own to use during their separation…it makes something warm and fragile stir in Jaskier’s chest. Warm and fragile and dangerous. Hope is easily crushed, and when it is, it takes everything else down with it. Jaskier isn’t doing that again. Not so soon.

He finishes detaching the tie as efficiently as he can, and hands it over Geralt’s shoulder before sitting back on his heels and exhaling violently.

“There you are darling, all fixed. Now,-“

“I didn’t.” Geralt interrupts him, whisper quiet but still somehow deafening over the crackling fire.

“What?”

“Survive without you. I didn’t. Or, I guess I should say I did, but that’s all I did.”

Jaskier has, for once, absolutely no idea what to say, so he tries something new, and says nothing. He’s barely even sure he’s breathing, staring at the back of Geralt’s head and all his moonlit hair like he’s staring into the jaws of a barghest as he waits to see if he will continue.

He does, words falling out of him in a rush like a river pouring through a broken dam, desperate in a way Jaskier has never heard him before.

“I knew I’d fucked up, on the mountain. As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew it. It’s like. It’s like I was a bottle of juice, gone off, going ranker and ranker until the cork flies right out and takes someone’s eye out. I thought I was angry at Borch, at Yen, at Calanthe, at fucking Destiny, at everything. Even you, who hadn’t done one thing wrong. But really it was just me. I was just angry at myself, and there’s. There’s not. There isn’t anywhere for that kind of anger to go. It just builds up and up and up until it explodes, and you with it, and I knew I was going to let it out at someone. And then you were there, and you were trying to help. Like always. You always help. You make everything better, like you were just trying to make me feel better. But I was so angry, and it was all my fault, it was all my stupid selfish choices, the djinn, the wish, Ciri, all of it my fault, and I didn’t deserve to feel better. I didn’t deserve it and I had to make you stop and so. I did. I did it on purpose. I did it because I knew that was the thing to say that would hurt you the most. That would make me a monster like I know I am. Monsters are easy. Easier than mistakes and bad choices. So I made another bad choice and hurt someone else and decided to be a monster.”

There might be tears streaming down Jaskier’s face, but he can’t tell because he can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t hear anything but the rushing in his ears and Geralt’s voice ripping into him with savage, gentle claws.

“Once Yen was gone- It’s hard to think with her around, sometimes. It’s the wish, I think. Everything else gets duller, quieter, a little out of focus. Like in a dream when the only thing you can see clearly is the person you know the dream is about, the person you’re supposed to talk to.” Oh this…this is actually torture. Geralt might actually be killing him because he still can’t fucking breathe and he just keeps talking.

“It’s better now. Maybe it’s Ciri, my Destiny is split between them now so it’s not so overwhelming. Or maybe Ciri is her Destiny too, and now that we’ll always have her, the both of us, the wish doesn’t need to force us to be in love for us to stay nearby. I don’t know. It’s easier now, though. And even easier when you’re here.”

Wait, what? Now Jaskier knows he’s dead, or dying, or hallucinating, or something, because there’s no way that means what he wants it to mean.

“After Yen left, my head started to clear. Things came back into focus. I realized what I’d done, but suddenly I could also see that it wasn’t just what I yelled at you. It was so much more, so much deeper. I had been so awful to you, for so long, and you just. Took it. All of it. Everything I had, all my anger and my fear and my loneliness. You just let me. You always came back. You kept choosing me, even when I was cruel. I was ashamed, but I also thought…” He breaks off with a great shuddering breath, his head hanging.

Jaskier feels a little like he’s floating. Like he can see his body, kneeling there in the dirt behind Geralt, staring at his sculpted shoulderblades with a blind, devastated look on his tear-streaked face. How odd.

Geralt, somehow, impossibly, keeps going. This is more words than Jaskier has heard him say in the last two decades. This is more words than he knew Geralt was capable of saying. Where are all these words coming from?

It’s like all this time, he had been saving these. Stockpiling them, though for what Jaskier can’t begin to guess. A rainy day? An emergency? This? And now the doors of the granary have come loose and the winter stores are flooding the yard and Jaskier thinks he might end up buried alive.

“I thought you’d come back.” Geralt’s voice is thicker, somehow, and oh, gods, is he crying? “I thought you would come back, like before, like always, and it would be ok. And I would try to be better. I would try to be the man you thought I was. And it would be ok. But you-“ He cuts off with another great shuddering breath, and seems to center himself. “You didn’t come back. And that’s when I realized I had finally gone too far.”

Jaskier has been trying to process all of these many, many, many, mostly incomprehensible words, and he’s maybe fallen a little bit behind, because he hears himself cut in with an incredulous “Wait, are you saying that every time you were rude or dismissive to me, it wasn’t just because you don’t know how to conduct yourself in a normal friendship because you’ve never had one, but actually because you knew you were being cruel and you knew you could get away with it because I would always come back?”

Geralt’s head hangs even lower, and Jaskier has to strain to hear his gravelly whispered reply.

“Yes. Maybe not consciously, or in so many words, but yes.”

Jaskier flounders for a moment, wounds he spent the last year trying to close tearing back open even wider than before.

“All this time? You thought so little of me, all this time? I was just a- a- a practice dummy? Something that won’t fight back or feel pain, so you can hit it has hard or as many times as you want?” His voice began at a whisper, to match Geralt’s, but has gotten steadily louder and more tear-filled the more he speaks.

“No, that isn’t-“

“I can’t- I’m not- I need a moment. Please, Geralt I need- Please.” He can’t keep sitting this close to him, feeling his body heat just as warm as the fire he’s blocking Jaskier from, can’t keep listening to his low rumbling voice, like thunder and gravel and home, like a silver sword through the midsection. Not when the pain and the anger and the hope are all bleeding together and he doesn’t know how to feel them properly and he still can’t fucking breathe.

Geralt’s breath hitches, a tiny little wisp of sound, and Jaskier is going to fucking lose it.

“Please, Geralt.” It comes out in a broken whisper, which is more revealing than Jaskier was hoping, but it’s not like he’s managed to hide anything anyway, so it hardly matters.

Geralt nods, back still to Jaskier in front of the fire, and stands smoothly to walk over to a corner near the entrance, where he can see all four bedrolls and the cave mouth clearly. Ready to protect. Always ready to defend. He sinks to his knees and his breathing takes on the familiar cadence of meditation.

Jaskier takes a moment to look at him. At the way his hands are clutched a little tighter on his thighs than they normally would be while he mediates, like he hasn’t managed to purge all the fear from his body the way he has his mind. At the new scars he can see on his forearms and one snaking over his collarbone, scars that Jaskier wasn’t there to bandage and fuss over. At the way his hair spills over his shoulders, still tousled from Jaskier’s fingers. At the single tear track carving a path down one marble cheek.

Jaskier sucks in a breath and turns away before he breaks down and Yen comes back to find him catatonic on the ground.

He ends up standing at the mouth of the cave, stroking New Roach’s neck and petting his hands through her glossy mane gently. Her slow breathing and the familiar warm, earthy smell of horse help ground him, bring him back from that awful frantic-floating feeling, where he was nowhere and trapped all at once.

He chatters to her quietly, just like he did to her predecessor. She, at least, warms up to him much more quickly.

A warm, black nose thumps gently into his chest. “Yes, my love, I know I need to protect my heart. I’m trying! Can’t you see how hard I’m trying?” She nickers softly, more of a puff of breath than a proper sound.

“Well aren’t we feeling smug this evening, sweet thing.” Another thump. “It’s alright darling, I don’t blame you. I think I’m ridiculous, too. I just don’t know how to fix it.” He strokes a hand down her forehead, scritching lightly.

“No, me either. You know what the problem is, don’t you?” She lips at his hair, which he takes as an invitation to continue.

His voice is even quieter now, the barest thread of a whisper, quiet enough that even Geralt might not overhear if he comes out of meditation. “The problem is that I’ve spent all this time coming up with plans and strategies and contingencies for not giving my heart away again, when the truth is I don’t think I ever got it back in the first place.”

He rests his forehead against hers in defeat, tears falling silently again. He’s going to dehydrate at this point, but what does he care when he has a beautiful lady providing him such warm, solid comfort right here?

“I have to say, songbird, this is not what I expected to find when I came back tonight.”

Jaskier does not flail. He is a professional performer, he has immaculate control over his body at all times. And he definitely doesn’t squeak, no bard would ever be caught dead making such an undignified noise unintentionally.

So no, he neither flails nor squeaks, and if New Roach gets very slightly spooked and a lot disgruntled, it was from Yennefer sneaking up out of bloody nowhere like a wraith in the night, and certainly nothing Jaskier did. If either of them say different, they’re lying.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Is this your plan to kill me and make it look like an accident? I’ll tell Ciri, she’ll come after you with her dagger, see if she doesn’t. Ciri likes me. Ciri would avenge me.” He’s clutching his chest, heartbeat gradually beginning to slow.

New Roach is still giving him a dubious look. That’s rude, this is hardly his fault. It’s Yen she should be grumpy with.

“Well, I was rather hoping that by this point in the evening, you wouldn’t need a miniature Witcherling-sorceress to defend you, since you’d have your big strong Witcher back, but somehow things seem to have gotten worse in my absence. Did he not manage to tell you his real feelings? Bloody Witchers, trust him to be resistant to my recipe, it’s never bloody failed before, if he’s made this worse somehow I’m going to bloody dissect him to figure out where I went wrong-“ She continues muttering darkly while Jaskier stares at her in shock.

His mind is valiantly trying to shake off enough of the lingering fog of tears to pull some of those threads together and figure out what the fuck she’s talking about.

Recipe? Real feelings? Make what worse? Did she…did she dose him with something? Did she put a fucking spell on his Witcher? He might have to have Ciri stab her after all, since he has no illusions about his own abilities to take her in a fight.

“What the fuck are you talking about, witch? What did you give him? What the fuck did you do? I’ll kill you myself you vicious little shrew, see if I don’t!”

She waves a hand dismissively, scoffing at his threats. Admittedly he is not at his best, though in his defense it’s hard to adopt a proper fighting stance when you’ve just spent half an hour kneeling in the dirt while your still-beating heart was slowly diced into bite-sized pieces. Tough on the knees, you know.

“Please, you should be thanking me. It was fucking exhausting, these last few weeks, watching you two throw longing glances back and forth when you think no one’s looking. I’m just trying to help things along.”

“Help- what? What things? Help things along how?” He’s trying very hard to hold onto his righteous anger at her for (possibly?) drugging the man he loves, but she keeps saying things that dredge up that dangerous warm feeling from before, and he’s losing his resolve.

“Nothing sinister, songbird. I’m done with that, I’m on the side of the White Knights now, remember? Have a little faith in me, for Lilit’s sake.” She rolls her eyes, but either he’s getting better at reading her or she’s making an effort to be easier to read, because he can feel the sincerity in her words. “We both know all that nonsense about Witchers not feeling is horseshit, yes?” He nods. Obviously it is, Geralt feels more deeply than anyone he’s ever met. “But I know you also understand how much he struggles to make sense of what he’s feeling, or to make himself heard when he does.”

She’s right about that, too. Jaskier knows the emotions are there, has always known, since the moment he saw Geralt in that tavern in Posada. But he’s watched Geralt get lost in the tangle of feelings inside him so thoroughly that all the words get stuck and nothing comes out. He’s seen it happen hundreds of times. That’s part of why he’s always wanted to badly to sing about him, to tell the world what Geralt can’t, to be the words when he can’t find them.

Yen gestures to the corner where Geralt is still meditating peacefully. “I didn’t do anything to his feelings. Couldn’t if I tried, that’s not really how my magic works, anyway. But I knew there are things he’s been wanting to say, and he’s been suffering for not knowing how. And as antagonistic as we may be, I don’t actually hate you nearly so much these days, and I find myself discomfited by your very obvious pining, as well.” Well, that’s…actually quite sweet. And rather disquieting, if he’s honest.

“So I gave him something to help him articulate himself. It won’t make him say anything he doesn’t want to, won’t force him to reveal any truths against his will or create any feelings that weren’t already there. It just…smooths the way. Untangles all those knots in his head so something coherent can make it out of his mouth. But you two aren’t cuddled up by the fire making me want to vomit, which means it didn’t fucking work, and I have to figure out why!” She looks rather like she would huff and stomp her foot at this, if the great and powerful Yennefer of Vengerberg would ever stoop to something so childish.

Jaskier thinks very hard about the last hour or so of his life. He thinks about Geralt saying “please,” and he thinks about the way all those words fell out of him and just kept coming and coming and coming, like a pot boiling over, piling up in a heap at Jaskier’s feet. He thinks about Geralt crying.

“Well- uh. Hmm. You know, it occurs to me now- it’s funny really, I think you’ll laugh, definitely laugh, not look at me with that petrifying glare you’ve got on right now, no you’ll be laughing I’m quite sure- Alright, yes, ok! Yes! Right, well, um. I think, looking at recent events, fresh eyes and all that you know- I’m just saying, it would have been helpful to have some of this information going in, is all- Ow! Melitele’s tits, that hurt! Do those nails come standard at Aretuza, or were you just born lucky? Ouch! Ok, ok, stop pinching me, witch! Like I was saying, with the benefit of this new information, I think it’s possible your magical intervention whosit thingy may have worked exactly as expected?”

She narrows her eyes. “If it worked, why are you crying to a horse instead of snuggling with your man?” His man. That can’t be right. Can it? Geralt isn’t his. Except. Except for all the things he sounded like he might be gearing up to say when Jaskier cut him off. Fuck.

“I, uh. I maybe. I maybe stopped him partway through and told him I needed a break?” He winces back as her already truly impressive glare intensifies even further- yep, she’s still got it.

“I did not go to all the effort of brewing that fucking potion, tailoring it for Witcher metabolisms, and making it fucking tasteless and odorless so he would drink it, not to mention standing out here in the fucking woods in the middle of the night with nothing to fucking do, just so you could chicken out halfway through getting everything you ever fucking wanted.” Her eyes are glowing violet now, which is. Wow. Scary. She’s so scary. He remembers now why he always thought she was so so scary. She jabs her finger towards the kneeling figure by the wall. “Get the fuck back in there and finish the damn conversation, bard,” she hisses. “I will not deal with this bullshit all the way to the Redanian border.”

She turns to leave again, and Jaskier shoots out a hand to stop her. She looks at his hand on her elbow and he briefly worries he’s going to end the night as a slug of some kind, but she just looks up at him questioningly.

“I just. Fuck. I know- I know this probably wasn’t easy for you. You know I know better than most what you’re feeling right now. But you’re helping anyway, so. Thank you, Yennefer. Even if it doesn’t go like you think, like I hope, you were willing to try even though it hurts, so thank you.” He isn’t sure what his face is doing, but he hopes she can see how genuinely grateful he is.

She smiles a little sadly. “Come on, songbird, We both know he was never really mine. And besides, I’m not the settling down type. Now go, don’t make me curse you.” She shoots him what would be a very passable glare if it weren’t for the slight glimmer of tears in her eyes, then spins on her heel and stalks off into the night.

He turns back to the cave, hesitating for a single moment before there’s an irritated huff, a nip to the sleeve of his jacket, and a frankly unnecessarily forceful shove to his back. He glares back at Roach, who seems unperturbed. “I’ve got entirely too many black-haired gorgeous women trying to run my life right now, do you hear me? Too many!” Roach huffs again. “Fine. I’m going, are you happy?” He takes another step and looks over his shoulder. She looks smug. Of course she does. “I think you’re just the old Roach reincarnated. Never seen another horse look so damn satisfied with herself,” he mutters, but he’s already heading back into the cave, so he figures she’s won this round.

He feels slightly guilty about grabbing Geralt’s waterskin before going to him, but he isn’t sure how long Yen’s potion lasts, or if meditating will have burned more of it off. Maybe it’s disingenuous to give him more without telling him what’s in it, but, weirdly, he trusts Yen when she says it won’t force Geralt to do or say anything he doesn’t want to, and Jaskier isn’t sure he’ll ever get to hear the words otherwise. He’ll tell him afterwards. He won’t keep this secret forever.

He sits down quietly next to Geralt, leaning up against the wall of the cave. He takes one deep breath, then another, and another. He rests his fingers gently on Geralt’s hand where it sits on his thigh. Geralt’s breathing gradually picks up until he’s back to almost his normal, slow rhythm. His eyes open, landing on Jaskier’s hand on his and following the line of his arm back up to his face.

Jaskier hands him the waterskin, and Geralt takes it with a nod of gratitude before taking a long drink. “I’m alright now,” Jaskier says. “I’m sorry I stopped you.

Geralt searches his face, eyes searching Jaskier’s for signs of dishonesty. Apparently finding none, he nods slightly, golden eyes closing again for a moment. When they open, he’s not looking at Jaskier any longer.

Jaskier looks at his hand, fingertips still resting ever so lightly on Geralt’s palm, and considers taking it back. He thinks about what Geralt has told him so far tonight, about the conviction in Yen’s voice when she insisted Geralt had feelings for him. Fuck it, he decides, and lays his hand more firmly in Geralt’s, lacing their fingers together. Geralt draws in a sharp breath and looks up at him in shock, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he grips Jaskier’s hand tighter, like he’s worried Jaskier is going to try to run.

“I know you,” Jaskier says slowly. “I’ve known you for more than half my life, and I know that you aren’t cruel, or callous, or unkind. I know that there is always a reason behind the things you say, and the things you do, even if no one else can see it.” He swallows hard, closing his eyes briefly. Geralt squeezes his hand lightly, which…helps, actually. It helps a lot. “I’m sorry I accused you of hurting me on purpose, for the sake of causing me pain. I was overwhelmed and having trouble processing things, but I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion I know wasn’t true. If you still want to talk, I’m ready to listen now.”

“It wasn’t an illogical conclusion to draw. And it wasn’t even completely wrong.” His voice is calmer than before, measured and even. Not as frantic. The river is still flowing free, but it’s calmed, no longer the violent rush of a broken dam. He sighs, a great, world-weary thing. “It was because you’re safe.” Jaskier looks at him quizzically.

Geralt draws in another deep breath before continuing. “I can’t ever show emotion. Not to humans. Not anger, or fear, or sometimes even joy. The myths about Witchers not having feelings…they aren’t just vicious rumors made up by bigots. They’re there to protect us. From them.”

Jaskier frowns. “You mean Witchers put that rumor out yourselves? But why?” Surely demonstrating how human Witchers really are can only help matters, right?

“In a way.” Geralt tilts his head in the way Jaskier knows means he’s remembering something long past. “It’s part of how we’re trained. We’re taught to suppress emotion, to hide it from everyone, including ourselves. It’s how we’ve done things for 400 years.” His thumb sweeps little arcs across the back of Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier’s heart trips in his chest. He knows Geralt can probably hear it, but it must not worry him and he keeps talking.

“The first Witchers were experiments. Men twisted by mages hoping to combat the monsters that plagued the world. The process has been…refined, since then. At first, they really were- well. More monster than man.” Geralt tips his head back against the rock wall. “Humans were terrified of them. One and all, right down to their bones. The first Witchers didn’t take contracts, because no humans would even speak with them. They just wandered around until they found a monster to kill, and then moved on to the next. Eventually, people started to realize that Witchers were only killing monsters, and leaving humans be, so they slowly started reaching out for help.”

“Ungrateful sods, the lot of them,” Jaskier mutters, and hears Geralt’s quiet huff of laughter in response.

“You’re. You’re so special, do you know that?” Jaskier jerks his head up in surprise to see Geralt’s eyes on his face, liquid gold lit like sunrise by the light of the fire, a tiny smile playing around his lips. “You’ve never been afraid of me. Not once. Not even when the only things you knew about me were that I scowled a lot and I had two very scary swords.” Jaskier flushes at the reminder of the babble that spilled out of his mouth the moment he laid eyes on the single most attractive person he had ever seen in his 18 years of life.

He drops his eyes, knowing there’s no hiding the blush on his cheeks but ignoring it as hard as he can anyway. “What’s there to be scared of? You’re a puppy, not a wolf.” He expects a grumble, or a glare, or for Geralt to ignore him completely. Certainly not the bark of laughter that would have woken Ciri were it not for Yen’s charm. He stares at Geralt’s face, firelight flickering over pale skin, honest joy written in the curve of his mouth, and grins back helplessly.

“You’re the only one who’s ever thought that. Except maybe Eskel.” He laughs again, more quietly this time, then sobers slightly. “Humans are afraid of us. They always have been. Less now, since you,” he squeezes Jaskier’s hand again and Jaskier flushes even darker, “but the first Witchers were barely more than feral, and that impression…stuck. Humanity never got past it. Even when new generations of Witchers were made, when we became something closer to men than to monsters, their fear never went away. Any emotion, even the faintest irritation, was enough to make most humans think a Witcher was about to go berserk, to start tearing out the throats of anyone who got too close. So, we learned to shut them down.”

His eyes are downcast now, and Jaskier thinks of a tiny Geralt, just a boy, younger than Ciri, excited about the world, curious and clever and mischievous, thinks about him learning to hide his heart away until even he couldn’t find it anymore, and he wants to scream. He wants to cry, he wants to rage, he wants to find every human who ever judged a Witcher by his eyes and not his deeds and mount their heads on spikes. He wants to tear out their hearts and make them watch as he throws them on the pyre, burning them out like so many boys were made to burn out their own.

Geralt can smell his turmoil, he knows, and he clings to the comfort offered when he holds Jaskier’s hand as tightly as he can without hurting him, still tracing circles into his skin with his thumb.

“It isn’t safe, to have feelings. Humans may spit on a mutant with a heart of stone, but they’ll hunt and kill a monster with teeth they think will harm them. It’s safer to be cold, to be hard. To let all of it roll off of us like snow off a mountain. And after a while, you forget how to be anything else. You forget that it’s a lie, that it’s something you had to learn. You start to believe it too.” There are tears dripping off of Jaskier’s nose now, but he doesn’t dare interrupt again. “I had forgotten, until you.”

He looks at Jaskier with such naked feeling in his fiery eyes that Jaskier can’t fathom how anyone could believe this man has no heart. “You made me feel. You walked into my life and just-“ He huffs another low laugh, the faraway look on his face impossibly fond. “You just didn’t listen to a fucking thing I said. Ever! Not once! And it drove me up the godsdamned wall. I was going out of my mind, I was so fucking annoyed. You never stopped talking, or singing, or playing that damn lute, you never stayed out of the way on hunts like I told you to, you ignored me whenever I said I didn’t have feelings or I didn’t need anyone or we weren’t friends. And you wouldn’t leave! You just kept coming back, no matter how much of an arse I was, even when I acted in ways that would have made other humans shit themselves, or come after me with torches and pitchforks, or both. You just kept coming back, and you kept not believing me when I told you I was a monster, and you never smelled fucking afraid, and after a while I realized that irritated wasn’t the only thing you made me feel anymore.”

He seems to withdraw into himself a little, his shoulders hunching and his head hanging slightly. He tries to withdraw his hand, but Jaskier isn’t sure he can get through this conversation without it, so he hopes Geralt will forgive him for pushing yet more boundaries and simply holds onto him tighter.

Geralt sighs again, but stops pulling away. “But there’s still so much shit in the world. There are so many humans who hate me, or fear me, or try to cheat me, or who end up being monsters worse than the ones they want me to kill, and the problem with having it smacked over my head that I do actually have feelings, is that it makes it so much harder to ignore them. And there’s so much anger in me, Jaskier, and grief, and loneliness. And I can’t ever show it to anyone, or it will confirm everything they think they know about me. It will make me a monster. It will make me the Butcher all over again.” He looks up again, his expression anguished. “You’re the only one who’s safe. You’re the only one I can be angry around, or sad, or scared, or just annoyed, without thinking the worst of me. You’re the only one who ever comes back.”

Jaskier is back to feeling like his heart is being fed through a sieve, but he thinks he understands what Geralt is trying to say this time. He feels a renewed rush of guilt for assuming the worst of him before. Is he any better than the rest, jumping to the foulest possible conclusion while Geralt wrestles with his tongue to try and make him understand? He turns his head away, closing his eyes against the tears and trying to breathe through the shame.

Fingers grip his chin gently and coax his head back until he’s looking into Geralt’s slitted eyes again. The look on his face is so soft, so open, that Jaskier feels like his ribs are being pried apart at the sight of it. “You have no idea how much of a blessing you have actually been in my life, Jaskier,” and those words just crack his chest wide open and bare his heart to the whole room, don’t they? “I took advantage of you. I wanted so badly to have someone in my life I could show all the darkest parts of myself to, without them running away, that I forgot to show you the rest. And I forgot to help carry your darkness in return. I left you with such a burden, Jaskier, and you never once complained or asked me to help. You have done nothing but give, for as long as I’ve known you, and I wish I could show you how sorry I am that I was content for so long just to take.” Jaskier is pretty sure he’s openly sobbing now, but Geralt is sliding his hand up from his chin to cup his cheek, sweeping the tears away with his thumb, so it’s probably ok.

“Let me make it up to you, Jaskier. Let me be the one to give to you for once. Let me carry your burdens for a while. Let me give you a reason to forgive me. A reason to come back.” His eyes are pools of molten gold, wide and dark and shining with- emotion. An emotion. Jaskier isn’t going to hazard a guess at which emotion, because he isn’t sure he can handle the answer.

“I’ve already forgiven you, you great lummox. For all of it. A safe place is all I ever wanted to be for you. I only ever wanted to give you a home. Like you gave me. Just- just share it with me next time, please? The anger, or the fear? Share it with me first, instead of letting it fester and burn us both. That’s all I need from you.”

Geralt’s hand on his cheek guides him forward until their faces are inches from each other, foreheads resting together. Jaskier’s eyes want to close but he can’t bear to look away, too afraid this is all an impossible dream that will disappear as soon as he opens them again. He can see the way the firelight glimmers off his silver hair, the scars through his eyebrow, the tears clinging to his eyelashes as they sweep gently over his cheeks. He’s never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever deserved you, but I would do anything for the chance to try to be someone who does. I’m yours, Jaskier. You need only say you’ll have me.”

Jaskier is a man of words. He’s a bard, words are his trade, his weapons, the blood in his veins. No matter what else is happening around him, no matter what he has or what he’s lost or what needs to be done, there are always words ready to spring forth from him like water from a spigot. He has never, in all his life, been out of words.

Until now.

Fuck it.

Geralt’s lips are softer than he imagined, given that his skincare routine seems to consist primarily of monster innards. But they’re soft and they’re warm and they move so gently against Jaskier’s that he thinks he might simply melt into a puddle, to be absorbed into the earth and never seen again. The kiss is tender, and sweet, and longing, and not at all how he imagined his first kiss with Geralt would be. It’s perfect. Jaskier breaks it with a watery laugh, keeping his forehead pressed to Geralt’s.

Somehow his free hand has found its way back into Geralt’s silky hair, and he threads his fingers deeper into the moonlit locks and hopes he’ll never have to let go.

“You’re mine?” He knows he sounds a little pleading, disbelief coloring his tone, but he can’t help it. He’s had this dream so many times, he needs to be sure it’s real this time. “Really?”

“Really, little lark.” Geralt is smiling just as wide as Jaskier is, his cheeks just as damp. “I’ve always been yours, I was just too stupid to admit it. I won’t make that mistake again. I love you. I’ll never leave you behind again, not for the rest of your life, if you’ll let me.”

And, oh, there’s a conversation they should maybe have, because after all the revelations of tonight, Jaskier is fairly sure Geralt thinks he’s completely human, and is probably in pain over his supposed mortality. At some point before they go to sleep Jaskier will mention it, because apparently Geralt hasn’t noticed that his face hasn’t changed a lick in 25 years, the stubble he wears these days notwithstanding.

Because Geralt is a ridiculous, incredible, oblivious, stupid, wonderful fool, and Jaskier loves him so much he can hardly breathe. So he tells him so. The rest can wait.

#the witcher #twn #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla fiona elen riannon #the witcher fanfiction #my writing #i'll do the same with sleep now eventually i think but i want to finish it first

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dorimena · 3 years ago

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Yea request are open! I’ve been thinking about it lately from another fic but would Hawks be able to get off from his own feathers being used on him like a vibrator? Maybe not just on the outside of him but also the inside if possible or would the feathers break? Really I just want the bird man to get overstimulated but I didn’t know if you’re okay with writing for him so just ignore this if you don’t

Hey! Nice to see you slide into the confessional again! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Hope you don't mind that this is going to be Hawks' debut into the covent for the thirsty people ready to confess their deepest desires on what to do with this man-

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Takami Keigo - Hawks

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 855

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; gender neutral reader, sex toys (vibrator, dildo, fleshlight), but the mentioned toys are somehow made from his feathers, implied orgasm denial, masturbation, caught, mentioned choking, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; silly monologue, Keigo wondering how he didn’t know he could do this sooner, reader wondering why Keigo didn’t know

𝕴 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖕𝖘

It was probably something he didn’t even know was possible until he made it become possible.

As far as Keigo knew, his feathers were either to be weapons, an aid, a shield, even a tracking device, kinda. But he never thought he could use them for his own selfish pleasure.

You’ve been neglecting him for weeks now, always running off and around because of work. It has him tempted to try convincing you, for the hundredth time, to quit your shitty job and work with him in his agency, but you always told him that this job is your dream job. So he’ll just respect that, but he won’t ever respect your boss or coworkers for using you like some slave to the industry.

Okay, maybe he’s just giving himself an unnecessary backstory to justify how the fuck he managed to get his feathers, the ones he grew up with for most part of his life, to fucking vibrate against his dick.

Vibrate. How do feathers even vibrate?

Well, how could feathers become lethal weapons is another question to answer another time.

But holy-

“Fuck! Fuck, that feels good.”

Keigo can’t help but groan, and if a little cute whimper followed, he ignored it. He doesn’t want to accept he’s already close to cumming, less beginning to already lose his cool.

Not like it mattered, considering you would always figure out new ways to make him lose his cool, his tranquility, his collectiveness, his ‘she-calls-me-daddy-too’ persona.

God, what would you fucking do to him if you found out his feathers are transportable, automatic, intensity level 7 vibrators?

He jerks his hips away from his 3 feathers, breathing heavily as he watches how they move, how they shake, how the tip of each feather was covered in his own precum. Ew, no wonder he keeps feeling something sticky cooling on his cheek, and here he thought he was beginning to cry-

Wait, nevermind, his hand can very much confirm he might’ve shed a tear.

Wiping away the droplets of water, whether it be other tears or simply his sweat, Keigo ponders over his next question: could he fuck himself with these newly discovered vibrators?

Great, now he feels weird.

Not because of his question but because of how… Well, his feathers still feel soft, even if having them in a certain abundance and covered with a condom. His makeshift vibrating dildo made by his dearest and loveable feathers keeps prodding at his already prepared hole (thanks to one of your buttplugs.)

Which reminds him: will you be coming home soon? Not so much because of the sheer embarrassment of having to clean your buttplug instead of one of his, but more so to maybe see your raw reaction about this scenario-

“SHIT- FUCK!”

Okay, maybe he should’ve also, like, paid attention to the fact his feathery dildo (ugh, come on, Keigo, name it something else) had been trying to enter him for the past few minutes. But instead of some slow, gentle, sensual insertion, he decided to fuck himself as hard as you usually thrust inside of him.

Just how much did he miss you?

“S-so much! Too much- Miss you~” He whispers to absolutely no one but his feathers and pillows under him, cheek planted on one of the plush, soft materials as he prepares himself for-

“Hnngh!”

That pornographic whimper once he activated the vibration mode.

And when you finally came home, instead of a clingy, pouty, loving boyfriend greeting you at the door and helping you with your stuff, you’re lead by the invisible string to your bedroom, eyes widening in amazement at the sheer impossible yet fucking sexy scene before you:

Keigo, in his trembling, toe curling, back arching and chest puffing position, thrusting into the makeshift fleshlight from his vibrating feathers-

Huh!?

You quickly cover your mouth, hoping that your choked gasp of disbelief drowned in his equally choked gasping and moaning.

Oh, he’s choking himself.

Let’s assess the man who the public admire as their #2 prohero and how he’s never, ever mentioned how his feathers could vibrate.

Again, you’ve walked into him trembling while he’s fucking a fleshlight and being fucked by a dildo made by his own feathers that, for some reason unknown, are imitating the sound and movement of the 7th setting on his wand vibrator.

You don’t really get much time to actually find the reasons and name facts to explain this erotic scene before Keigo’s grabbing one of the pillows and smothering his face with it, drowning out his screams and growls of being overwhelmed by the powerful orgasm his body catapaulted into, especially with how, prior to your arrival, he had been trying to convince himself that denying his orgasm for possibly the 10th time in barely under an hour was going to do more harm than good to him and his sanity.

#notwhatiseem #𝕳𝖆𝖜𝖐𝖘 #✿;impurity #bnha smut #hawks smut #keigo takami smut #mha smut #sub bnha #sub hawks #ღ;sacrilege

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2jaeh · 3 years ago

Text

ORPHIC : YUTA X READER

genre: smut, angst

warnings: mature themes, enemies to lovers kinda, kinda toxic theme, multiple smut scenes, swearing, alcohol, toys.

slight jenoxreader

word count : 17,5k (sorrry he’s my ult)

author: sin!

You and Yuta never had a good relationship within your group of friends. The closest the two of you ever came to even slightly caring about each other was...in bed. After some friendly advice you decide to venture out of this toxicity and an old friend comes to the rescue. Thinking things will finally settle and you are ready to move on, Yuta comes to the realization that he wasn't a fan of you leaving him for someone else.

A/N: WHOA this took me so long to write and rn its 2am and I barely proofread anything and just wanted to post it already! ALSO I just wanted to add Jeno is practically my ult as well and I wanted to use him for this scenario ! I promise Ill make it up to you guys with a full length fic of him lol Anyways enjoy.

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You couldn’t understand why you hated him so much. Was it the way he did his hair ? The way he rolled his eyes at every snarky remark you directed at him ?

Or was it the way he stared at you from across the room, a smirk on his face signaling that it was going to be one of those nights.

You joined this collective of artists or the “blank space” as you were known to the public, a year ago. The team did everything from clothing to organizing crazy exhibitions, and the best part of it all was that the team members remained anonymous.

Now some of the members were already in the spotlight for their personal artworks and collections but anything under blank space was under that name only, promoted only under its respective social media accounts. The collective was founded by Taeyong, an introverted guy you met at a fashion show you once worked at. He approached you the night your art hit the runway and you’ve been working for him ever since.

You didn’t know everybody under Blank Space except for the people Taeyong trusted the most. Which from possibly 50 designers, only reduced to a total of nine close friends.

Taeyong, Johnny, Ten, Renjun, YangYang, Doyoung, Sungchan, Lucas and You.

And then, there was one person you called a friend when the mood was right. When he was not being an absolute pain in the ass.

Yuta Nakamoto.

————————————————————————

“So there’s a launch happening this weekend over at the shed” Taeyong announced to your friend group who were barely paying attention thanks to Yangyang attempting to stuff four marshmallows into his mouth. “Come on you can do one more” Lucas edged him on while Renjun shook his head disapprovingly and Sungchan tried to suppress his laughter.

“Guys please pay attention” Doyoung, the only type of authority around here spoke up, finally quieting down the room and allowing his best friend to speak.

Taeyong cleared his throat and shifted nervously as all eyes were focused on him again. “I’d like all of us to attend, maybe look for a new recruit” the timid pink haired boy spoke and everyone nodded knowing the routine of these launches at this point.

“Can we party hard or is this just one of those save face kinda gigs ?” Yuta raised his hand and the spark in Lucas’s eyes indicated that he may have had the same idea.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your leg over the other, “Yuta’s having a dry spell he wants to find some damsel in distress to get into his bed” you turned to him and he only smirked at your snarky comment.

“Well now y/n it’s only because you haven’t been in the mood for my dick lately” he pouted and Renjun threw his head back, followed by groans from both Johnny and Ten.

“I’m not in the mood for the two of you today seriously” Ten chimed in, rubbing his temples just waiting for this group meeting to be over. “Yeah me too” Johnny added, “you two fight the entire week then hook up over the weekend, we are tired.”

“Why are you guys tired ? Are you doing the fighting and fucking ?” Yuta scoffed and Doyoung jumped to his feet, folding his arms across his chest as he looked down at the scowling black haired man,

“This is a work meeting. If it's not about work” Doyoung eyes moved to you, “then we don’t want to hear about it.”

You nodded after getting reprimanded but Yuta being Yuta just snickered and downed the rest of his coffee, unbothered by what any of the people in the room had to say about him.

“Okay then well I’ll see you guys Friday night, if you find a possible recruitment just text the group chat and we will decide as a team then and there” Taeyong wrapped up the meeting and everyone dispersed back to their work stations to finish up any outstanding projects.

Blank Space had its own office block but you guys were the only ones with a private floor at the very end of the hallway, far away from the part-timers.

Everyone had their own cubicle made up of makeshift drywall, so it was private but not private enough. Taeyong felt that closed offices made no sense for a room of creatives and when working on bigger projects it was easier for members to move their stations to their partners' cubicles.

Your cubicle though had the unfortunate fate of being placed in front of Yuta. The members had tried to swap with either of you but neither of you budged. Moving meant there was a problem and showing that you had an actual problem with the other person meant it could sabotage the team and things may go sour.

So both of you conceded. Trying your absolute best to stay out of the other person's way during work hours. But it was impossible when bickering was just something you guys did.

From the very beginning You and Yuta had disagreed on almost everything. Both of you were pretty stubborn people and had a very similar mindset. Then on a random drunken night Johnny suggested that you and Yuta needed to release your anger in bed and the next day you’d be best friends. Yuta was pretty adamant on the idea and not only did you hook up once, it became this ongoing hell of fighting, building up your anger and releasing it during mind blowing sex.

Neither of you questioned the abnormality of your relationship. Rather, you ignored the red flags and the toxicity of it all and just assumed attraction only happened through liquor, high sexual needs and boredom.

“Hey y/n sorry about snapping like that earlier” Doyoung stepped into your cubicle, his gummy smile showing as he nervously scratched his head. “It’s no problem, I’m sorry about my stupid comment” you pressed your lips together feeling a tad guilty that it all started because of you.

“You guys really love riling each other up don’t you?” Doyoung took a seat opposite you which was a bit unnatural for anyone who walked by. Doyoung was a very reserved person and never bothered to converse with any of you besides Taeyong. Unlike the rest of you Doyoung was recruited to handle finances and foresee the operation. He appreciated the arts but never delved in it, hence his awkwardness with the openness and unhinged personalities of the group.

“I get that it can be...exhausting” you sighed, propping your elbows up on the counter and pouting.

“Then why do you continue ?” Doyoung quizzed and you shrugged, “stress relief ?”

Doyoung chuckled at your words and pushed his spectacles up his bridge, “you guys are the ones stressing each other out,” Doyoung turned back to look at Yuta who was busy sketching and turned back to face you,

“All I’m saying is that maybe it’s time to look for a stress reliever that doesn’t result in anger the very next day, you guys need to move on.”

Move on.

Doyoung’s words swam in your mind hours after the short conversation had ended and you wondered if it was indeed time to move on. You looked up from your desk and to your surprise Yuta’s eyes were locked with yours as he twirled a lollipop in his mouth.

The issue was, as much as you hated him you couldn’t deny he was so goddamn hot. From the long hair to the edgy attire, physically he was your type. Personality on the other hand, it was like nails against a chalkboard.

Unbearable.

You kept your eyes locked with him until he slowly pulled the sweet out of his mouth, licked his lips and blew you a cheeky kiss from across the room.

“Moron” you mumbled and shook your head trying to ignore his devilish motives and get back to work.

Doyoung was right. You definitely needed to find someone to distract yourself from Yuta’s hold over you.

———————————————————————-

It was the night of the launch and everybody showed up with their own rides and began mingling with former clients and partners. You arrived with Ten and Lucas who already decided to pre-game drinks just in case ‘there wasn’t enough at the party.’

“Hey please do us a favor and not hook up with Yuta tonight” Ten wrapped his arm around your shoulder as the two of you maneuvered through the groups of people. “Not planning on it” you replied in his ear, “and besides Doyoung already beat you to that pep talk.”

“Doyoung ?” Ten wrinkled his nose before ordering the two of you a mojito from the open bar.

“Yeah he said that I should move on, possibly find a new hookup” you shrugged, retrieving the drink and headed to a balcony that overlooked the first floor of the launch party. There were bodies of people everywhere, networking, checking out merchandise or just getting plain wasted.

“Seems like Lucas has already been cut off from the open bar” Ten pointed out, watching the tall man try to push his way back to the bar but the bouncer refused him to do so.

“Let me go help him out, I'll catch up later” Ten sighed and gave you a pat on your shoulder, “and yeah find a new hookup, if Yuta gets to sleep around so can you.”

You watched Ten disappear into the crowd and twirled the glass in your hand wishing what he had said was that easy.

There were no rules about hooking up with other people or just any reinforcements in general when it came to you and Yuta. But you we’re well aware of his loose sex life. There were many times where Yuta ended up going home with some random person if he wasn’t in the mood to hook up with you. But You on the other hand, never bothered these days because you were either too busy or whoever you met just ended up boring you to death.

“Y/n ?” You heard someone say from behind you and to your surprise it was a face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Jeno ? Oh my God” you quickly gave the blonde boy a quick hug, taken back by how much he had filled out since high school.

Jeno used to help you out from time to time during proms and fashion shows, lending out his strength to build anything from sculptures to installation art in the city.

“I was wondering when I was going to bump into you at one of these shows” his bright smile turned his eyes into crescents as he joined you at the balustrade. The Jeno you knew in high school was a lanky shy kinda guy but the Jeno you saw now was confident, mature and outright gorgeous.

“I’m quite surprised seeing you here actually” you chuckled shyly, “I didn’t know you’d pursue anything in this field to be honest.”

“Wow” Jeno mouthed and cutely grinned, “hmm that kinda hurt considering I’m the one who made the centerpiece of this entire launch”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at the structure of colored sharpies bound together to create a giant rubix cube in the middle of the party. “Holy shit that’s awesome my boss would absolutely love you” you gasped, knowing Taeyong absolutely loved installation art especially at a large scale like this.

“Oh who’s your boss ? I’m actually a free agent right now” Jeno replied and you quickly remembered the reason you were even at the launch in the first place. “Wait! We’re looking for recruits right now, let me just tell the others about it” you said excitedly, handing Jeno your drink and pulled up the group chat on your phone.

A few minutes later everyone confirmed the meeting place of a private room located on the second floor, quiet enough for a quick interview and decision. The best part of this job was everyone was so connected that there was no need to go through the process of a full portfolio look and a million interviews, all you needed was a trusted ally within the group to vouch for you and you were already one foot in.

“Ten and Yangyang took Lucas home after he tried to challenge the bartender to an arm wrestling match” Johnny entered the room and sipped his whiskey while Renjun and Sungchan followed close behind him. Taeyong and Doyoung stood in front of the room discussing something amongst themselves while you and Jeno took a seat on the burgundy couch.

Yuta entered shortly after, drink in hand and you noticed his eyes narrow in on Jeno who sat close to you. “Okay everyone who’s able to make it is here let’s get started” Taeyong clasped his hands together, “everybody this is Jeno Lee and a long time friend of y/n.”

“Not that long but yeah we did work together” Jeno chuckled and got to his feet, “well I’m an installation artist, I actually made the centerpiece in tonight’s launch.”

“Wow, it's amazing!” Renjun complimented and Sungchan agreed, giving Jeno a thumbs up, “yeah man that piece is brilliant.”

Jeno smiled from ear to ear as the meeting proceeded with everyone going through a few of Jenos works and what he could bring to the team. While your teammates concentrated on Jenos work all you could concentrate on was Jeno himself.

You wondered if Jeno knew how gorgeous he was in his effortless tank top and denim jeans combo. You hoped no one caught you staring but someone was well aware of your actions.

Yuta watched how you looked at the young guy, he wasn’t stupid, he knew when you found someone attractive and the way you were ogling Jeno right now, he didn’t like it at all.

The meeting ended and everyone welcomed Jeno to the collective. Johnny gave him a few pointers on which coffee to order from the cafe next to the office and Sungchan exchanged gamer tags with his new friend.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday” you waved as everyone exited the meeting and before you could make your way to catch up with Jeno and Sungchan you were being pulled back into the room.

“Your place or mine ?” Yuta mused and snaked an arm around your waist, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“Neither” you responded, “I’m gonna hang with Jeno and head home, you should find that little damsel to play with”

“Don’t be difficult y/n we're long overdue for our therapy session now” he groaned, pressing his lips to your ear and jaw. As much as he aroused you by just breathing you thought about what Doyoung had said, you needed to move on from this mess.

“Listen I think we need to just stop our sessions” you stepped away from him leaving Yuta slightly taken back from your actions, “let’s move on, be out of each other’s way and not make the group uncomfortable okay ?”

Yuta watched you press your lips together and finally make your exit, leaving him completely alone. You denied his advances for the first time since the two of you started sleeping together and something in him broke.

————————————————————————

Monday came around and the whole team buzzed about Jeno joining the team. Usually a new recruit would hang downstairs with the part time designers but because Taeyong trusted your judgement on Jeno, he was able to integrate with the team.

“Man that Jeno guy seems real chill” Yangyang hopped alongside Johnny and Yuta who were doing the morning coffee run. Yuta kept his composure despite knowing he wasn’t a huge fan of someone new joining the team and throwing off the dynamic. Hands in his pocket he ignored Yangyangs endless questions about the meeting, allowing Johnny to entertain the eager young boy.

“All I know is that having Jeno around means I don’t have to do all the carrying when Lucas bails on me” Johnny sipped his drink as they made their way back to their office. To their surprise Jeno had just arrived, looking like a lost puppy as he examined the names of the floors next to the secretary desk.

“Speak of the devil” Johnny threw his arm around Jeno, startling the boy and led him over to the elevator, “we’re at the top floor newbie, make sure to get an access card from Taeyong.”

“T-thanks” Jeno grinned and bowed politely to both Yuta and Yangyang before stepping into the elevator. The other guys barely bothered with Yuta’s reaction to Jeno because he rarely liked anyone enough to show any sign of enthusiasm. Jeno wasn’t going to change that.

The elevator opened to the top floor and Jeno awed at the chilled atmosphere you all had created here. From Ten’s thousands of plants around the room, Taeyongs fish, a pool table brought in by Lucas and gaming stations set up by Sungchan, it looked like paradise.

“This....is so cool oh my God” Jeno stepped in, his eyes wandering all over the place until it locked on you hanging over at the fish tank with Taeyong.

“Y/n!” Jeno jogged over and you greeted him with a wide smile and a tight hug, “Jeno you made it!” You gleamed. Jeno quickly shook Taeyong’s hand unsure of how formal of a boss he actually was.

“Whoa I feel like a principal” Taeyong giggled as he dropped a few fish flakes for his babies. “Wow, does everybody have their own cubicle ?” Jeno strolled around the room taking a peak at the vast versions of decor each cubicle adorned.

“Yeah” you responded, “but I don’t think yours is ready yet right Doyoung ?”

“That’s right,” Doyoung replied and folded his arms across his chest, “you don’t mind sharing for the week do you ?”

Jeno shrugged and looked over at you, “I was hoping to catch up with y/n anyway, I don’t mind sharing if it’s okay with you ?”

“It’s perfectly fine” you assured him and gestured over to your cubicle, “me casa is su casa.”

“I’m just gonna need some admin stuff sorted Jeno can you join me for a bit ?” Doyoung asked and Jeno nodded, giving you a quick hug before heading off to the administration offices with Doyoung. You watched the blonde guy exit and something just felt so much brighter in the office. You felt a sense of excitement of what’s to come now that Jeno was back in your life. But like all sunny days there always comes a thunderstorm and yours was staring you down like he was waiting to rain on your parade.

“What ?” You blinked, and Yuta shrugged as he peeked into your cubicle. “It’s a bit small isn’t it ? Don’t think two people can work in here” he raised his brow and looked over at you.

“It’s fine” you sighed and pushed past him, “it’s only for a week and he’s not a stranger to me, why do you care ?”

“I don’t” Yuta mumbled, dragging his feet back to his cubicle leaving you questioning his slightly odd behavior. Your mind quickly snapped out of it when Jeno had made his way back, that bright smile spread across his face and suddenly it felt like sunshine filled the room once more.

“I’m back!” He sang and pulled a chair opposite you, retrieving his laptop already looking like a regular in the office.

“Did Doyoung tell you about tonight ? Our little welcoming party over at Kleo’s Sky Bar ?” You asked, skimming through your emails for the day. “Oh, yeah he did, I mean you guys don’t have to do all of this” Jeno chuckled shyly, those pretty eyes distracting you for the third time that day.

“Nah we do it for everyone, and it’s better you know everyone drunk to avoid future surprises” you pointed over to Lucas who was coaching Yangyang through a trick shot at the pool table. “Gotcha” Jeno nodded, as he watched one of the balls fly off the table and nearly knock Renjun in the back. It was chaos absolutely everyday in the office and you knew Jeno was going to love it here.

But even with Jeno in front of you, your new distraction, your new beginning, like Doyoung and Ten had said you needed, it was a habit at this point to look across the room, wondering what Yuta was up to. You watched him remove his cardigan, exposing his arms in those loose tank tops he always loved to wear as he concentrated on a sketch in front of him. Thankfully he was fully immersed in his work for once to take notice of your eyes on him. You continued observing him, watching him nod along to probably some alternative song blaring in his headphones as he sketched away on his iPad. He was so effortlessly attractive when he wasn’t aware of it.

You needed to snap out of this daydream.

“So are you seeing anyone these days ?”

“Hmm ?”

Jeno laughed as you finally realized that he’d been talking to you and you mentally cursed yourself for even being distracted by Yuta of all people.

“I’m sorry..Uhm no I’m not seeing anyone” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and Jeno nodded cutely, “uh good...uhm not good that you’re alone but I was hoping you weren’t...God I’m still so bad at this”

You felt your cheeks heat up seeing Jeno fumble over his words and get nervous about asking you such a question. He was so adorable and something in you also wondered if he was like this in a relationship, or in the bedroom.

Was he dominant ? Was he passive ? Yuta was very dominant and you’d even rile him up to the point of him making you shut up with his actions.

“Y/n ?” Jeno waved his hand in front of your face and you shook your head, you couldn’t believe you did it again. What the hell was wrong with you ?

“Oh my God Jeno I'm so sorry...these emails are just a pain in the ass” you lied but thankfully Jeno took the bait and nodded, “it’s okay I’ll let you get back to work, I was going to go down to the cafe, do you want anything ?”

“Yeah a cafe latte would be great thank you” You felt guilty but it was still only two days since you decided to cut off Yuta so adjusting was going to take a bit of time.

Jeno had left for the cafe and you quickly dove straight into your work, hoping the time would just fly by. That was until you heard a knock and watched Yuta saunter into your cubicle and take a seat right in front of you. You watched him prop his elbows on the table and his piercing eyes narrowed down on you as if he were waiting for an answer.

“Why are you here ?” You questioned him, doing your best to divert your attention from his chiseled arms and exposed chest.

“I want an explanation,” Yuta said calmly, his voice deep and monotone.

“To what ?” You knew fully well what he was talking about but you were really not in the mood to talk to him about this. Yuta sighed and cocked his head to the side, clearly annoyed by your response. “Why the fuck are we calling it quits when we are nothing to each other ? Can’t we just hook up and ignore each other as usual ?” You sensed the annoyance in his voice. Denying him that night was indeed eating him up since you’ve never done it before.

“Yuta that’s the whole point” you rubbed your temples, “if we are nothing to each other then we shouldn’t be hooking up, it just ties us together for absolutely no reason.”

Yuta stayed quiet for a bit and eventually just nodded, “fine do whatever you want I guess.” You watched him walk out, not bothering to give you a second look and you wondered if the unsettling feeling you were experiencing in this moment was how he felt two days ago.

Nothing made sense.

————————————————————————

The evening arrived and everyone was in good spirits because you were all headed to one of your favourite spots in town. “Lucas you gotta do karaoke tonight” Sungchan threw his arm around the large brown haired man as they entered the bar. “Hmm give me a few rounds of drinks first” Lucas stuck out his tongue as he gestured to the waitress to get the gang the usual table.

Thankfully tonight the bar was fairly empty which meant that the gang could really loosen up without the prying eyes of strangers wishing you’d all just leave.

“Wow this place is pretty cool” Jeno gleamed, allowing you to enter the booth first like a true gentleman before scooting right in next to you. Yuta opted for the seat at the very end as usual, so he could sneak off to smoke without bothering any of friends every couple of minutes. The position also gave him a clear view of you and Jeno who were snuggled up in the corner already lost in your own private conversation.

“Beer ?” Johnny nudged Yuta, snapping him out of his fixation. Yuta nodded and slumped back in his seat trying his best to focus on whatever Renjun and Yangyang were talking about. It’s not like him to feel this way. Usually by now he’d be seated next to you, annoying the shit out of you until he saw those pretty eyes glare at him with rage. Then after you’d have a few drinks you’d be leaning on his shoulder, playing with his rings until he offered to take you home, and then-

“To Jeno!” Lucas yelled, lifting up a shot glass of God knows what and rallied everyone to join in on his toast.

“To Jeno” you grinned leaning into Jeno’s side and clinked glasses with him. Jeno felt warm, comforting, he made it so easy for you to just enjoy having him around rather than it being a task. That’s what a healthy relationship was like wasn’t it ?

“Jeno Im glad and also sorry that you have to join the most annoying group of people ever” Doyoung half smiled and Taeyong waved his hand, “we’re not that annoying Jeno I promise” the pink haired boy reassured him despite Renjun and Ten agreeing with Doyoung’s words. Jeno just laughed it off and turned to you with a bright smile as he draped his arm over your shoulder,

“Kinda feels like fate that I bumped into you huh?”

You know he may have been joking but Jeno was really unaware that his presence really was the antidote to getting rid of the Yuta situation. The team loved him, he was someone you knew and could trust, it was all right there for you, written on paper. Nothing could possibly go wrong… right ?

“Fourth round is on me” Taeyong held up his card to the waitress despite his tired eyes were quite evident. Everyone was well over tipsy and Lucas had already entertained the bar with his beautiful rendition of “Starboy” by The Weeknd and Johnny stepped in as his air guitar player in the back.

“Gotta go to the bathroom!” You whined while Jeno helped you to your feet as you pushed your way past a sleeping Renjun and a spaced out Sungchan. You could tell tonight was going to take a toll on everyone tomorrow morning.

You quickly exited to the back where the bathrooms were located. You walked down the dim hallway, mentally thanking yourself for not overdoing it with the alcohol as each step became darker and darker.

“Watch your step” someone said and you turned around to see Yuta leaning over a railing with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth.

“Yeah” you managed to say and entered the bathroom before he could say anything else. The lack of alcohol didn’t stop the intrusive thoughts of Yuta filling your mind as you stopped to wash your hands. All you could think about was if he was going to be there when you walked back. Was he going to say anything ? Was he going to do anything ?

Were you going to do anything ?

You stepped outside, head a little more muddled than when you walked in and your first question was answered, Yuta was still there leaning up against the wall looking ahead of him. You slowly began your journey back, keeping your head down to avoid any type of confrontation with him.

“Y/n….” He mumbled, reaching out until he had a grip on your wrist causing your eyes to look up at him. Why did he look so goddamn breathtaking right now, with his stupid black hair all messy and his eyes luring you in like a lion to it’s prey.

“W-what ?” You replied, unsure why you still allowed him to hold you or even have the nerve to stop you from getting back to the rest of your friends. Yuta pushed himself off the wall and turned your body so you were now pressed against the concrete and his body was pressed against you. Your breathing hitched as he ran his fingers lightly down your arms. His eyes concentrated on his movements while yours focused on his face, watching him bite down on his lip as he took in the position the two of you were now in.

“You remember a few weeks back and I had you up against this wall moaning my name ?” His voice was so low that it aroused you, making you mentally curse yourself for the lewd thoughts.

“Yuta…” you sighed but there was a hint of desperation in your voice surprising yourself but not really phasing Yuta at all.

“Yeah just like that” he hummed before pressing his lips to your jaw, and peppered kisses all the way down to your neck. You felt yourself willingly giving him access, melting into every kiss he placed on your warm skin. Yuta’s hands grabbed your waist and pinned you against the wall while your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck and into the soft tufts of his hair.

“Yuta…we shouldn’t…I shouldn’t” you breathed, feeling yourself pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

“Tell me no and I’ll stop y/n '' Yuta said into your ear to which you responded by pulling him by his belt buckle and pushed yourself up to capture his lips. Yuta’s dominance finally showed when he slipped his leg in between yours, giving you the chance to gain a bit of friction your core so desperately desired at this point. You felt Yuta’s smirk in your kiss when you began grinding down on his thigh showing him the obedient whore you were for him. Nothing Yuta loved more was for you to beg for him, beg for his touch, need him. That was until the two of you heard footsteps and to your dismay it was the last person you’d ever want to see you trapped against a wall with the man you hated.

It was Lee Jeno.

“I’m sorry I - I’m sorry I’ll leave you guys alone-“ Jeno stumbled, he felt his cheeks heat up and made his quick exit out of the hallway.

“Jeno!” You called, pushing Yuta off and tried to neaten yourself. Yuta felt a heated sensation overcoming his body the moment he saw the look in your eye when you saw Jeno and the way you pushed him off like he was a piece of trash. Like he was nothing.

“You know maybe if you’d stop pretending like you don’t wanna fuck me then we can go back to normal” Yuta spat, not caring about the unfortunate situation that had just unfolded.

You turned around to face him and the next words that came out of your mouth you weren’t sure if you were going to regret it or not.

“You’re right Yuta that’s all you are to me and that’s all you ever will be, a good fuck for about an hour and that’s it. Other than that there’s no use for you. At all.”

You stormed away before Yuta could respond, but by now you would have heard his curses echoing throughout the hallway, the whole damn bar would’ve heard it. But there was nothing.

Absolute silence.

———————————————————————

It had been two weeks since the interaction with Yuta at the bar and what you had to him still resonated with you, wanting so badly to apologize. But each time you saw him at the office he paid you little to no attention, going on about his day peacefully and you didn’t want to interrupt that.

Jeno thankfully understood the situation and was more than willing to be the rebound guy, his only rule being that besides work related matters you needed to cut off communication with Yuta altogether.

‘It was the only way you’d get full closure and my mind would be at peace’ Jeno had said after you gave him the rundown of everything that had happened.

Jeno and you agreed to just casually date, nothing official and nothing too serious. You guys went on movie dates, cafe dates and kept the physical aspect to a minimum. It was simple. Laidback. A very normal form of dating.

“Y/n I’m gonna need you on a photo shoot set in a few hours” Taeyong peeped his head into your cubicle and you looked up at him with a frown, “I thought we were working on that rappers record party ?”

“Yeah that rapper wants you, Yangyang and Yuta to tag up the wall for a video segment of his photo shoot” Taeyong replied with a shrug and left you bewildered.

Yuta. From all the damn people he could’ve chosen you had to work beside the person who practically called trash in your last meeting.

Great.

You wrapped up the last of your work and headed downstairs to the parking lot where an Uber was waiting for you. Thankfully Yangyang could talk anyone’s head off because just sitting next to Yuta during the car ride felt tense. Normally he’d be pushing you into Yangyang or commenting on how his tattoos were better than yours. But all he did was look out of the window watching as the buildings moved past, keeping his airpods in to avoid any type of communication with anyone.

“You guys are finally here! Good Mark Lee is waiting for you at the shoot location” a woman dressed in all black led you into what looked like a gymnasium turned into a giant canvas.

“Are we going to paint all of this ? Man this is going to take forever” Yangyang gasped as the three of you walked through cans of paint, staff members and models.

“You guys are the designers from black space who did that painting over at Jynx Club ?” A young guy approached who you quickly realized was the new hot rapper around town, Mark Lee.

“Uh yeah, that’s us” you chuckled shyly and looked around, “are we really doing up the entire room ?”

“Oh hell nah just the backdrop behind me” Mark waved his hand, “we just laid everything out for a few cgi effects but you guys, do ya thing over there!” You watched the hyped boy get called over by the director leaving the three of you faced with a gigantic piece of white board and no idea.

“Since you guys are uncultured and probably don’t listen to Mark Lee, let me be in charge of this piece” Yangyang pulled out his iPad and began scrolling through some of his sketches. “Be my guest” Yuta shrugged, completely disinterested in the topic and most likely just wanted to get done and go home.

Yangyang finally settled on something that utilized all three of your styles and you all put on your white overalls, immediately getting to work.

The vibe of the whole job was quite chilled and because of the fumes most of the staff had left the gymnasium leaving the three of you to work in peace. “God I need to pee so bad,” Yangyang groaned as he dangled from a ladder, an aerosol can in hand and a nearly completed section in his corner.

“Dude take a break we’re way behind you anyway” you walked over to steady the ladder as Yangyang finally made his way down. “Thanks guys, be back in 20” he shot you a thumbs up and disappeared into the tunnel leading to the gym lockers.

The tension returned but it was somehow worse than ever before. Even though Yuta was minding his own business for the first time while retrieving a paintbrush he looked at you. There was no unsettling glare or the feeling that he was pissed off at you, he just looked at you like he’d look at anyone else.

And somehow that felt even worse.

“Yuta…do you mind if we talk for a bit” you cleared your throat and he looked over at you and removed one of his airpods signaling to you that he was listening.

“Okay Uhm well I want to apologize for what I said that night” you bit down on your lip, “I didn’t mean it, and it was selfish of me to even think of you like that after coming onto you in the first place.”

Yuta blinked and eventually just nodded, “apology accepted, and I can see that you like Jeno so I’m trying to stay out of the way” he shrugged and continued painting as if this conversation wasn’t that deep to begin with.

“Are you not going to get me back? Are you sure you’re Yuta ?” You raised a brow and Yuta’s manic laugh echoed throughout the gymnasium, “you want me to be mean to you ? Wow y/n that’s truly some kink you got there”

“Ugh you know what I mean” you shoved him playfully, unaware that the brush you were wearing was still wet and now Yuta’s jaw adorned a light shade of orange.

“Oh shit I’m sorry” you quickly said but Yuta had already responded by swiping his red painted fingertips across your cheek and smirked, “now we’re even.”

“Hey mine is way worse than yours!” You grumbled and flicked more paint at Yuta which then enabled a paint war between the two of you. Yuta giggled so much that for a second you forgot how silent he actually had been the past two weeks. He was back to his usual self and so were you, playfully making a mess with him until Yangyang emerged from the tunnel and yelled, “What are you morons doing ?!”

You and Yuta stood still in the middle of the room both covered head to toe in paint but the scene was way too comical to hold in your laughter any longer.

“Yangyang we’re so sorry but look, it gave the canvas a little more color” you gestured to it and you weren’t lying, it actually did look a lot better than before.

“Fine you two can go on break, I'll finish up so we’re not sitting around until midnight” Yangyang huffed and returned to his masterpiece. “Is there a place to clean up here ?” Yuta asked and the woman from earlier on walked in and pointed to the tunnel located in the back of the gym, “there are bathrooms and showers back there, our crew provided fresh towels as well so go ahead” she smiled and you silently thanked her before heading to the tunnel with Yuta.

“God I have paint everywhere” you whined as you took a look at yourself in the mirror. Yuta chuckled as he began inspecting himself, looking at the peculiar fingerprints all over his face and neck. “This shit better not stain my skin” he grumbled as he picked away a piece of paint from a crevice in his ear. “Tell me about it” you responded and began removing the overalls. All you could think of was jumping into that shower stall and allowing the hot water to melt away all the grime and paint when you noticed Yuta was already down to his boxers.

Your gasp made Yuta snicker to himself as he walked around the bathroom looking for the ideal stall to take his shower in.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before” you heard him say before hopping into one of the stalls and drawing the curtain. Despite his words being correct it still made your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You guys were comfortable like this before, not now, not with Jeno in your life.

You shook your head and entered a stall opposite Yuta and a few rows down, just so you weren’t close to him but not far enough that made you feel alone.

“Fuck how is their paint on my ass ? That’s impossible!” Yuta groaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, “TMI, Yuta” you replied and Yuta scoffed, “says the person who’s responsible for this.” The banter ended and again all you heard was the sound of both showers hitting your bodies simultaneously, the air filled with steam and more unusual tension.

“Y/n ?”

“Yeah?”

Yuta was silent for a while and then you heard his water turn off. “Do you uhm mind checking if I got all the paint off my back ? I’ll uhm put my boxers on” he mumbled and you felt your heartbeat speed up.

First of all the Yuta you knew would’ve just walked over butt ass naked and pulled your curtain aside not caring at all. The way he acted now was out of character, but somewhat familiar.

“Yuta I’m still in the shower and naked” you chewed on the inside of your cheek while you waited in silence.

“I’ll close my eyes, I just don’t want this shit to dry up when we get back to work later” he replied and you heard his light footsteps coming toward you. Quickly moving your hair back and holding the curtain against your body, you slowly peeled back the material to reveal Yuta with his back facing you and with his eyes closed, like he said.

You peered down at his golden skin, taking in his broad shoulders and tiny waist as you inspected for any more signs of acrylic paint.

“Uhm yeah you have a little on your shoulder blade and lower back”

“Do…you mind…”

You bit down on your lip knowing this was already crossing the line. But you had just made up and it was your fault that he had paint on his back in the first place. It was innocent. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself while staring at one of the sexiest people you had ever met.

You began rubbing away pieces of the paint, ignoring Yuta’s whines when you used too much pressure. Your hands traced down to his lower back, settling in the dip as you tried to remove a very stubborn piece of paint.

“Ugh this one is not coming off” you scratched at it and to your surprise Yuta had let out a moan instead of the usual wincing.

“I don’t mean to kink shame but-“

Yuta spun around and glared at you, challenging you to finish your sentence but you were more concerned at the fact that the only thing protecting your nude body from Yuta right now was a thin piece of fabric.

“Yuta!” You scolded and he rolled his eyes, “oh please y/n I’ve seen it all, now can you please help me with the paint ?”

You watched wide eyed as Yuta stepped into the shower going back on his word to close his eyes and face the wall. You couldn’t believe what was happening right now but the quicker you removed the paint the quicker he’d be out of here.

“Aren’t your boxers…going to get wet ?” You watched him step closer to water already allowing his hair to soak up the warm stream. “Well you’re not gonna let me take them off with you in here and I’ll probably just go commando when we get back to the office” Yuta shrugged and you should’ve known that was one of his options since he has done it in the past.

You sighed and let go of the curtain allowing your naked body to be free and go back to work on his paint splatter. Yuta was calm and collected throughout the process, you silently commended him on his restraint, that was until he decided to turn around and look at you.

“Y-Yuta you promised” your voice was small but you still didn’t do much to cover up your body. Yuta leaned against the cold ceramic wall as he stared at you, his stare was dark, inviting you in like that night at the bar.

“I’m not going to do anything y/n unless you want me to” he reassured you, still maintaining a distance and doing absolutely nothing to persuade you. But did you need persuasion when all he needed to do was be in the same room as you?

The two of you stared in each other’s eyes for a few minutes and you had no idea who actually made the first move but there you were in the center of the shower stall, in a random gymnasium, kissing Yuta Nakamoto.

Yuta’s bare body was pressed against yours as the two of you fought for dominance in the kiss. You placed your hands on his chest to which he responded by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until his hardened member twitched against your stomach. There were no words, just actions. Each kiss only made you more desperate for him, not feeling this type of arousal since that night at the bar. He was the only person who could turn you on to the point that every image of Jeno was erased from your mind.

You tugged down his boxers with urgency and Yuta helped you quicken the process, quickly kicking away the piece of clothing and had you pushed up against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. Yuta pulled away from your lips with a sultry bite on your bottom lip and lined up his member with your core. He kept his eyes on you the entire time from the moment he slipped into your wetness to the harsh thrusts he was now giving to you against the coldness of the wall. You felt like you were complete, filled with the right amount of passion and ecstasy. God you hated to admit it but nobody could fuck you the way Yuta did. Absolutely no one.

Yuta slowed down his thrusts and you brought your feet back to the ground, gesturing for him to take a seat on the floor and got on top of his member once more. Yuta threw his head back as you rode him relentlessly, grabbing onto your ass as he tried to meet your rhythm. The sight of him partially under the water and his swollen lips was delicious, you couldn’t ask for a better view right now. Yuta on the hand was also enjoying having you bounce on his length, quickly realizing that the women he had bedded during his time without you were not worth it. Not a single one of them made him feel the way you did. Even the times you guys were fucking around he’d sleep with other women because he didn’t want to admit that you are his best. You will always be his best.

“G-gonna cum” you panted and Yuta quickly rubbed circles on your clit to help you reach your orgasm. He watched your body spasm and you threw your head back with a soft moan. The sight alone made him come undone straight after you, filling you up completely.

You slowly got to your feet with the help of Yuta offering his hand and managed to finally catch your breath.

What the fuck did you just do ?

“Before you say this was a mistake and you hate me, hear me out” Yuta spoke up, “I need to know something”

You bit down on your lip. “Yeah?”

“Do you like me ?”

“What ?” You quietly questioned and Yuta sighed, rubbing his temples, “do you like me y/n ? actually like me ? Or is it you just like fucking me ?”

“I don’t know Yuta you know that I’m seeing Je-“you began explaining before Yuta quickly cut you off. “Don’t say his name, listen I know you like fucking me because that’s what happened right now despite whatever feelings you have for…Jen..him.”

“So what am I supposed to do ?” You asked, still unsure of how you were even going to face Jeno back at the office after this.

“Use me,” Yuta deadpanned, “keep me as your dirty little secret and I won’t tell a soul. I just don’t want this to end. I’m fucking addicted to this, and clearly you’re in need of me just as much as I need you.”

Yuta took a step forward and cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand. “I just crave you all goddamn day and nothing is fulfilling that need until right now.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about but you couldn’t bring yourself to share how much you ached for him. Late nights when you were alone you even pleased yourself with memories of him. You were unsure if it was lust at this point or you actually missed being around him. Despite every fight and argument the two of you had, there was something always drawing you in.

“First of all I don’t hate you” you sighed and he chuckled dryly before you continued, “I don’t know if this is a good idea but I’m only agreeing because Jeno and I aren’t serious yet and if we are-“

“I’ll back off I promise” Yuta quickly added and you nodded, “he can’t know about this, nobody can.”

“You have my word” Yuta pressed his lips together and for the first time he looked absolutely serious. Something in you made you trust that he wouldn’t fuck this up, because that would mean the one thing he wanted most right now would fall through.

You just hoped that this little need the two of you had for each other wasn’t turning into an…obsession.

————————————————————————-

“You guys are finally back” Ten stretched his arms above his head as you, Yangyang and Yuta returned back to the office after quite an eventful afternoon.

“Wanna see pics ? It turned out great!” Yangyang grinned quickly, running over to the older guys, showing off his artwork. Jeno was over at the game area with Sungchan completely invested in beating his friend in a round of Call Of Duty.

“Hey you” you sunk into the beanbag next to Jeno who shot you a quick glance before concentrating on his next move, “your hairs wet, why ?”

“Showered after the painting session” you answered diligently hoping there were no follow up questions. Thankfully he was way too invested in his video game to care much, you really weren't in the mood for an interrogation after half a day with Yuta.

Jeno asked a lot of questions when he felt insecure about something. Even though time had been short with him, it still somehow felt like a 2 year relationship. For a young guy Jeno was pretty old fashioned, he made you pick all the date places and never bothered to make the first move physically until you hinted to him that it was okay.

He was so different to what you were used to and you were afraid that if you didn’t speed things up with him this little secret with Yuta would turn into a reality.

“Hey y/n can you help me with lunch ?” Doyoung called from the makeshift kitchen area a few feet away and you silently thanked him for distracting you from your thoughts.

“Hey Doyoung” you smiled as you began opening containers from the Chinese delivery you guys frequented. “Just wanted to check in with you” Doyoung sweetly said as he grabbed a few utensils, “you and Jeno huh ? Was that part of my advice ?”

You pressed your lips together and nodded. “Yeah I guess so, it also helps that I’ve known him for a while now and he did actually have a thing for me in high school” Doyoung cocked his head at your words and leaned in, “and you liked him back or you’re seeing something in him now that you didn’t see before ?”

“U-uhm I think he’s hot” you chewed on your lip and Doyoung chuckled softly, “you know not everything is about looks or…hooking up, do you enjoy his time ? His interests ? His company ?”

You turned back to where Jeno was still playing his video games and you did feel a little confused as to what you guys actually did have in common. “I mean…” you began, crossing your arms across your chest, “we’ve only been seeing each other romantically for two weeks I think it’s too soon to tell.”

Doyoung combed back his hair and instead of bringing forth his insight in order to make you see things clearer he just nodded.

“You’re probably right, well I wish you guys all the best, it’s better than being with someone who doesn’t care emotionally right ?”

You slowly nodded and with that Doyoung began taking the food to the dining area leaving you with more confusing thoughts than you had before.

Lunch and the rest of the evening went on smoothly. Yuta stayed out of your way and there was absolutely no sign that the two of you we’re together that day. It was easier to fake seeing Yuta since the group knew the two of you would’ve been bickering straight after hooking up. It was the perfect illusion.

“Mark Lee’s party is at 9pm tomorrow night you guys, don’t forget” Taeyong looked around the room until he heard a confirmation from every single mouth.

“9pm ? Shit would it be okay if I only stuck around for an hour ?” Jeno sighed and looked over at Taeyong, “my brothers in town and I promised I'd get him from the airport at 10:30.”

“Well you’d have to show one of the guys here how to turn the installation on” Doyoung’s worried look matched Taeyong.

“I’ll be there to turn it on I’ll just need to leave straight after” Jeno assured them and squeezed your hand under the table, “it’s all really sudden but you’ll be okay right ?”

“I’ll be fine, I’m probably going to head home after the music video airing anyway” you smiled at him and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead earning a whistle from Lucas.

Yuta awkwardly shuffled at the sudden PDA and he hoped no one at the table noticed but it caught the attention of none other than Johnny Suh who narrowed his eyes at his coffee run mate.

The evening had wrapped up and everyone had already headed home except for Yuta and Johnny who were adamant on finishing a photography project for a band they were working with.

“Trouble in paradise ?” Johnny hummed as he edited an image on his laptop. Yuta, who was busy sorting out the Polaroids, turned to face his large best friend with a lost expression.

“Huh?” He raised a brow to which Johnny shook his head still staring at his screen.

“I can’t believe this, after all these fucking hellish months now you realize you like her?”

Yuta leaned in on the desk. “What the heck are you on about Johnny ?”

“Y/n” Johnny sighed and your name made Yuta’s heart race a bit, hoping Johnny hadn’t found out about the shower incident. God you’d hate him forever if anyone found out.

“Listen Johnny we-“

“You like her! After all those months of fighting I knew you were secretly in love and now” Johnny threw his hands in the air, “now that Jeno has entered the arena you have ruined your chances. Way to go buddy.”

“Wait what ?! I’m not in love with y/n!” Yuta scoffed. Saying that sentence out loud felt like a lie even though he couldn’t fully convince himself. Was he in love ? Was Johnny mistaking love for just lust ?

That’s all it was and ever was right ?

You enjoyed fucking around with him and he was okay with it. That’s what he wanted too. Even if you didn’t answer his question of whether you liked him or not, it was okay. Whatever you wanted was okay as long he got to be with you.

“I’m not in love with y/n.”

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

You and Jeno arrived at the party with Yangyang and Sungchan all helping carry equipment for Jeno’s installation. The piece was a pixel art board that formed Mark Lee’s latest EP cover, and once plugged in it gave it an animated effect, basically bringing the EP cover to life. You marvelled at the hard work Jeno had put in, it was just a shame that he wasn't sticking around to receive praise from everyone who attended.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here ? I know how much you hate these parties” Jeno pressed his lips together as he brought you into a tight hug. You hummed and looked up at him smiling, “Only been dragged to one of these parties a million times, another round won't hurt.” Jeno responded by pressing his lips to your forehead before joining Sungchan in setting up the installation. You always wondered why Jeno opted for your forehead instead of your lips most of the time despite already having your first real kiss. You understood he wasn't big on PDA, but the only time you ever got to kiss him was at your apartment door when a date had ended or when you sneaked in a kiss at the cinema. As much as you liked his chivalry, God at times you just wished he took initiative and bent you over your kitchen counter and had his way with you. It was kinda humorous how Jeno was the ideal type of any women out there but for you, you needed an unhinged, sex-crazed maniac to match your energy.

You needed Yu-

“It looks really good Jeno.” Your breathing hitched when you heard Yuta’s voice from behind you. You turned around but to your surprise he wasn't alone. Yuta was accompanied by a familiar face, Mei, a part-time designer from a few floors down. The way she held onto his arm made something stir inside of you. Your cheeks burned up and you dare say it for the first time you felt...jealous.

You were used to seeing Yuta with many different girls but it was always some nobody that he never bothered to introduce to the group. He always made sure none of them integrated with his work life but Mei, Mei was the first person you actually knew.

“y/n its been a while, Oh my God you look great” she said sweetly and you returned a friendly smile despite your awkwardness. Yuta gave you a quick glance not really paying you any mind as he kept a steady hand on Mei’s lower back, the two of them practically looking like a couple. It made you feel uneasy. After all he had said to you that afternoon in the shower, It seemed like he didn't mean it.

“It’s perfect Jeno you really outdid yourself” Taeyong applauded as the rest of the team finally arrived, all congratulating Jeno on his first big project under Blank Space. Jeno shyly thanked everyone and checked his watch, sighing that it was already time for him to depart.

“You're going now ?” You walked over to wrap your arms around his waist. You didn't care much before about Jeno leaving early, before Yuta decided to bring a date to the party which meant you would definitely be on your own. Jeno pouted and stroked your head, “yeah, we're still on for Sunday though right ?” and you replied with a nod before sinking into one of his very warm hugs. You had no idea why, but the need to ease your jealousy and get back at Yuta was so strong that you ended up pulling out of the hug and kissed Jeno in front of everyone. Thankfully Jeno didn't shy away and maybe the guilt of leaving you made him return the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you against your body.

“Get a room you guys” Ten joked when the two of you finally pulled away, and Jeno chuckled shyly before leaning into your ear, “let’s do that more often” he cheekily smiled and pecked your lips once more before making his way to the exit. Johnny watched as Yuta still looked visibly uncomfortable, more so now than before. But Johnny also knew how damn stubborn Yuta was and watched him throw his arm around Mei, departing from the group most likely for the rest of the night.

It was late into the night and Yuta was already way too many shots down to call himself sober. Mei was talking but he was not listening. Mei was a nice girl who had made it known to him that she liked him for a while now, but unfortunately for her she was not you. All Yuta wanted was you and again he cursed himself for being so fucking hooked. He wanted to make you jealous but after he saw you kiss Jeno it just came back to him ten thousand times harder. He came to terms with his addiction now in his drunken state he was scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the only person he cared about.

You.

“Hey I'm going to leave now...do you want to come with ?” Mei nervously bit down on her lip hoping the man she's been pining for months will finally take notice of her.

“Nah im good, I’m probably going to wait until my friends leave” Yuta replied coldly, his eyes still scanning the crowd as he took another sip from his jack daniels and coca-cola concoction. Mei nodded, disappointed that her night had not gone as planned and left silently, leaving her date to finally gain his freedom.

Yuta scanned the crowd for the tenth time until he did a double take at a figure in the back corner, dancing on their own with no care in the world. Downing the rest of his drink Yuta kept his eyes focused on you despite the alcohol blurring his vision and his body feeling heavy, he had to get to you.

You were in the same state as him, most likely worse since Lucas challenged you to a drink off. You had no clue when you separated from the rest of the group so you stuck a little corner hoping to sober up before heading home. As you swayed along to the music you felt someone wrap their hands around your waist and the familiar scent of that Tom Ford perfume made you realize who it was.

“Yuta…” you groaned, pulling his hands away from your body, still remembering how awful he made you feel a few hours earlier. God were you the rebound chick now ? The thought alone was sickening.

Yuta, still blissfully unaware that you were mad at him, still pushed his body against yours until your back was pressed against the wall and you had no choice but to look up at him. You watched him move his face down in order to capture your lips, but you quickly evaded it with a turn of your head. Yuta scoffed and sufficed for your neck, giving you soft wet kisses all the way down to your collarbones until you pushed him off yet again.

“What the fuck ?” He growled in your ear, “I thought we had a deal.” You rolled your eyes at him, there was the side of Yuta you hated the most. You wondered how long it would be until he factory reseted back to an asshole.

“I thought I was first choice” you snapped at him, “all your talk about no one can satisfy you like I can, use me y/n, I only want you” you mimicked his voice and flipped him off with your finger. Yuta knew you were jealous but it was kind of ironic given the situation. You were the one in a relationship, not him. “Oh so I'm supposed to see you suck face with Jeno but I can't have any fun y/n ?” Yuta had you back against the wall, this time his hand was locked on your jaw with his lips against your ear.

“Maybe I should've fucked Mei” Yuta’s voice was dark, you felt him smirk against your ear when his words clearly affected you, “Maybe if I fucked her she would've been so good that i would forget all about you y/n.” Your eyes darted to him and he cocked his head, challenging you, waiting to see how much you could take before you caved. Normally you’d be the one getting Yuta riled up like this. It was common knowledge that Yuta was a very jealous person and just mentioning another man sexually he would lose his mind. Once you were craving his attention and casually mentioned to him that if Doyoung was interested you’d let him screw you on his office desk, and Yuta responded by fucking you senseless in the supply closet until the only name that escaped your lips was his.

But now the tables were turned and you didn't want to hear about Mei. You didn't want to picture her next to Yuta let alone in bed with him. It was selfish on your part considering Jeno, but you wanted Yuta all to yourself.

“Shut up” you narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed a fist full of his shirt and brought him closer. Yuta traced his thumb over your lips and smiled, already knowing he won this round.

“Tell me why I cant fuck her right now y/n, tell me” he coaxed, and you responded by pulling him into a sensual kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth and your hand palming his member until you heard him groan in your ear,

You pulled away from the kiss and pressed your swollen lips to his ear, “Because...you're mine.” Yuta licked his own lips at your words and grabbed at your ass,

“Show me I'm yours, baby.”

You had no idea when and how the both of you got to Yuta’s apartment in one piece but the moment he had his foot in the door, Yuta was tugging your dress over your head. “Fuck why do you always wear the most complicated things” Yuta whined which you found cute even though you would never let him know that you were well aware of his adorable side. Sighing from victory, Yuta finally got your dress off and pulled you into his familiar bedroom, which you honestly missed so fucking much.

Taking in the familiar scent of his perfume and his slightly messy room, with posters on the walls, and a rack of band shirts - it was his little heaven and you loved it.

You walked over to lie on his bed, sinking into the soft fabric of the bed sheets as a familiar rock song began playing from Yuta’s stereo. You watched him as he discarded his shirt and ripped jeans, showing off his chest tattoos and belly ring, just the sight of him was already making you wet. Yuta was none the better, groaning as his boner pushed against the fabric of his underwear as his eyes took in your body, sexily laid out for him like you used to be.

“Fuck…” his lips parted as he watched you spread your legs, waiting for him obediently. Yuta crawled up onto the bed and nestled in between your thighs, his mischievous eyes looking up at yours before he began peeling away the thin piece of fabric revealing your core.

“You're…so…wet baby” he said in a low voice and leaned in to give your heat a soft kiss. The instant contact made your body shiver, reaching down to play with his dark curls. “Yuta…please” you whined as he continued his light kisses, not giving you the pressure you desired. Yuta looked up with an innocent face and cocked his head, “Why should I do it ?” His fingers traced circles on your hips and abdomen, waiting for an answer.

“Because…you’re mine Yuta, I want you…all to myself…I want to please me, only me” you threw your head back. Not having sex for over a month was really getting to you and the frustration had you saying just about anything. Yuta watched you squirm and after hearing those words he figured it was a good enough reward for his dear fuck-buddy. Yuta kissed your core once more but this time his tongue darted out every once in a while, awarding you with a better sensation. You moaned inaudible words as he began eating you out like a pro, lapping away like his life depended on it before inserting two fingers inside you.

“Yuta wait I’m gonna-“ you grabbed onto his hair, feeling your orgasm come on way too early for your liking as his fingers moved rapidly and his tongue licked away at your clit. Yuta ignored your plea knowing this was only the first of many and honestly he was glad that he was still the only man giving you orgasms for the past couple of months.

Yuta pulled away, a devilish smirk spread across his face as he watched you cum all over his fingers and just as your vision was in focus you had the pleasure of seeing him lick his fingers clean as if he just had the most amazing meal ever,

“Mmmm tasty” he bit down on his lip and winked at you. God he was so damn cocky, and it didn’t take you long to recover from that orgasm to make room for another. You got to your knees and sat back, your face now level with Yuta’s clothed member.

Yuta groaned as you palmed him, his length already twitching against your touch. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but since the night you had called it off with him, his desire had subsided and he wondered if you were the sole reason for his high sex drive. You placed your lips against his belly ring, giving it a kiss before pulling down his boxers and allowing his member to spring free. Yuta cursed as your tongue swiped across the tip and you looked up at him with those large eyes, and Yuta knew exactly what you were waiting for. Positioning your mouth over his tip, you waited until Yuta grabbed a fistful of your hair and guided you down on his length, groaning loudly as you took in all of him.

Yuta’s hips began to meet your rhythm and the grip on your hair tightened, the sudden roughness made you shiver with excitement. You and Yuta always liked it rough, since it took out your anger on each other and any type of nurturing or romance would throw off the dynamic.

Yuta threw his head back as he released, keeping you on him until you swallowed every bit. He muttered curse words as he pulled out and watched you lick your lips, swiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and sucked it off.

“Yum” you mimicked his words from earlier with a smirk essentially driving Yuta crazy with lust. You giggled as he pushed you onto the bed and attacked you with bites and kisses, leading from your neck down to the valley of your breasts. “How long until you get hard again?” You sighed playfully but winced when Yuta’s teeth sunk into your skin, punishing you for your words.

“Cocky aren’t we ?” He moved back up to your lips and kissed you passionately. Just as you began melting into the kiss, Yuta pulled away and jumped off his bed heading to his closet.

“What are you doing ?” You groaned as you watched him sift through the mess of his closet until he finally retrieved a familiar box. “Yuta you’re literally hard right now, come on let’s just fuck already” you whined, knowing that when Yuta brought out that box it was his way of getting rid of your bratty attitude.

“If you wanna be impatient two can play at that game” he grinned and hopped onto the bed, pulling out his favorite pair of hair cuffs and with ease, cuffed you to his headboard. You watched him look through his box of toys, rubbing your thighs together excited about what his choice will be.

Yuta grabbed something out of the box and discarded the rest onto the floor, making his way back up to your body and pressed his lips against your ear, “you remember the safe word baby ?” Yuta pecked you when you nodded and you watched him insert a mini vibrator in your core and roll off the bed with the remote in his hand.

“I wasn’t even that mean to you” you grumbled, still getting used to the device inserted in you. Yuta shrugged and turned the device on, keeping it on a low setting as he watched you stir in his bed.

“I’m not punishing you for that actually, I’m punishing you for something else you did” he said calmly, pacing around the room butt ass naked. You frowned and thought back to the party when he had found you, what did you say to him ?

“I’m sorry I pushed you…away” you pouted but a moan escaped your lips when you felt the setting turn higher and you watched Yuta shake his head, “nope that’s not it.” You groaned and threw your head back, unable to even think what the hell he could be on about. Yuta would get mad at every little thing so it honestly could’ve been anything.

“Can’t I have a hint or something ?” You pleaded and Yuta raised his eyebrow and eventually sighed, giving in too easily. “It happened in the beginning at the party” he said annoyingly, and finally something in your brain clicked.

“The kiss ? You’re mad over the kiss ?” Your words fell off when you felt the vibrator go another setting higher, the new speed was decent enough to start building a second orgasm. “You don’t sound like you’re apologizing for it” Yuta scoffed and dangled the remote in front of your face, “this goes up 4 more speeds y/n.”

“Why do I need to apologize for kissing my boyfriend when-“

Another setting higher.

“Fuck wait Yuta” you breathed, it was impossible to even keep focused at the new speed and the sensation was now running throughout your entire body. “You kissed him in front of me to make me jealous didn't you?” Yuta questioned and you nodded frantically, pressing your thighs together to ease the intensity, “yes yes oh my God, I wanted to make you….jealous because you brought someone else…and..fuck” just as you felt your body finally build up a perfect orgasm the vibrator suddenly turned off and you were met with Yuta’s cocky smile.

“You like to have it all don’t you y/n” he hummed as flung the remote aside and knelt between your thighs that were shaking from the orgasm denial. “You want to fuck me, but not let me fuck anyone else, you want Jeno but you don’t want me to get mad over it” he continued as he pulled the dripping wet toy out of your core and tossed it to the floor. Yuta placed his hands on either side of you and looked down at your defeated face and smiled, “Do you want me to fuck someone else?”

You shook your head and Yuta undid one of the handcuffs. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and again asked you another question, “Do you want to fuck me ?” and you quickly nodded, earning your second hand free from the cuffs allowing them to fall to your sides. Yuta placed his hand around your throat and squeezed gently, smirking as you arched your back, thirsting for him so desperately.

“Who would fuck you better, me or Jeno ?” Yuta mused as his hand released a bit of pressure on your throat. “Y-you” your voice was small and Yuta released your throat and his hand moved down to smack your thigh.

“Say it, say who will fuck you better” he hissed.

“You Yuta, you will fuck me better than anyone…better than Jeno” Yuta grinned at your words, a little surprised that you used Jeno’s name in such a blasphemous way. He was in euphoria at this point. It was all he needed to hear after continuously seeing you and Jeno look as if you were in love with each other.

It was all wrong.

You and him loved each other.

Fuck. He loved you. He really did.

Yuta pushed his length into your core and groaned as the realization of his thoughts and his conversation with Johnny all hit him at once. The sight of you beneath him, moaning his name and your confession that you wanted him over Jeno. It was all too much.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, his hips violently hitting against yours as your nails dug into his lower back. The lewd sounds filled the room and for a second the two of you looked into each other’s eyes, both feeling something…different. Usually Yuta would be fucking you from behind, his favourite position because he loved looking at your ass but tonight especially after his sudden questioning, he took care of you differently.

You don’t know what came over you and it was yet another thing you never did during sex but you pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips moved passionately against his, desperately clinging to his body as his strokes became longer and more powerful. Yuta sighed into the kiss, palming your cheek and his movements suddenly became more gentle as if he were making love to you, not fucking you.

“Yuta…I’m close” you moaned into his ear, loving this new feeling of him on your body. Yuta hummed in response and quickened his pace, making sure to sneak in a kiss every now and then until he finally brought you to your long awaited orgasm. You watched him bite down on his lip as he thrusted into you, chasing his own orgasm until he pressed his against your ear and said the words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“I love you y/n”

Your body slightly froze as Yuta finally came and he rolled off your body, mentally cursing himself for allowing those words to escape his mouth at this moment. But it’s what he felt.

Johnny was right.

“W-what ?” You finally managed to say and turned to him. Yuta licked his lips and kept his focus on the ceiling above him.

“You heard me right” he said calmly and you felt your heart race. Where was this coming from ? He was the one who always implemented the no romance rule and he chooses now, the moment you’re seeing someone else to confess to you.

“I have to go” you murmured and jumped off the bed, starting to collect your clothes from the floor. You heard the bed creak and Yuta sat up and watched you dress up. “It’s late now y/n and you drank, stay the night and leave when the suns up” he insisted, eventually grabbing his own boxers,

“Here you can sleep in one of my shirts and you’re welcome to sleep in my bed for the night.”

“Y-you…that was one of the rules…no staying over” you were biting on your nails, everything that had happened in the last ten minutes made no sense. Yuta shoved the shirt into your hands and sighed, “Look, we don’t have to talk about what I said or what happened, just stay the night and you can go back to your perfect life with Jeno.” Yuta began making his way to his door when you grabbed onto his arm making him stop in his tracks,

“Where are you going ?” You asked him softly.

Yuta looked at you and sighed, “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“Yuta..”

“What ?”

“Stay with me.”

—-—————————————————————

You had no idea why you had told him to stay in bed with you considering all that had happened a few minutes ago. But here you were, curled into his chest listening to his heartbeat as he lightly stroked your hair.

“How…long ?” You broke the silence and felt his heartbeat slightly race, “The realization came recently but I’ve…always liked you y/n” Yuta responded softly.

“Well you don’t have a good way of showing it” you rolled your eyes and Yuta’s soft laughter filled the room. “Well at first you actually were annoying but I did find you cute” He replied and shifted until you were on your back looking up at him,

“You put up with me and we’re not afraid to fight back. You know it’s not even about the sex, I think we’ve always enjoyed each other’s company, we just have a weird way of showing it.” You listened to his words and did a bit of reflection for yourself. You were already well aware that he occupied your mind 24/7 and did not enjoy seeing him around other girls he would eventually sleep with. But was this…love ? You weren't so sure.

“Do you ever think it’s more of an addiction rather than…love ?” You looked up at him, hoping your words did not offend his sudden confession in any way. Yuta sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling deep in thought.

“What is love then ?” He murmured, clearly by the look on his face he had been pondering on this question for a while now. You joined him in laying on your back and looked up at the ceiling, “love is when the other person completes you” you began, “when you’re having a dull day and just the sight of them could turn that around. Love is wanting to protect that person all the time, it’s just love.”

Yuta turned to you, “have you ever been in love ?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.” Yuta shrugged and returned his focus above him, “whatever you just described is how I feel, but maybe I’m just still hung up on the Jeno situation.” You felt a pang in your chest as if you just completely destroyed his spirit. You always saw Yuta as a strong confident presence, yet the person next to you seemed lost, he looked broken. But deep down you knew that whatever he was describing had floated in your head from time to time, maybe it needed to be said out loud for you to finally realize.

“Give me a week”

“Huh ?” Yuta’s eyebrows raised at you.

“Give me a week to figure all of this out and we will have this talk again” you sat up and looked back at him. Yuta propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head, “y/n, if you don’t feel the same way it’s okay I won’t come in between you and…Jeno anymore.”

“Yuta”

“Hmm?”

You pulled the boy by his shirt until you were able to lock your lips with his, slipping your tongue into his mouth and he mimicked your actions before pulling away, a confused expression spreading across his face.

“I don’t know where this is going to go and whether we’re right for each other,” you chuckled dryly, “but I will always want you Yuta, you’re not coming between Jeno and I because the one who wants… .”

————————————————————————

It was finally Monday and you already regretted seeing Jeno at the office since you faked a terrible hangover to get out of the Sunday date, something that wasn’t entirely a lie. You spent the whole of Sunday laying in your bed thinking about the night you spent with Yuta and all that was shared during the morning.

You thought back on your own words about what your version of love was. Protecting someone. You reminisced about the days when Yuta got sick after a night out and you were the one to take care of him despite his protests. You thought back to when the two of you were working on a project, arguing as usual and you managed to slip on a wet paint spot, causing you to sprain your ankle. Yuta was the one to help you around the office when needed, he wasn’t appointed to you nor did he have to use up his own time to help you but he did it anyway.

When you were having a dull day the person you loved would find a way to brighten it up, just the sight of them was enough. There was an occasion where a client got real mean with you in the office, and hated the project you worked almost a month on, refusing to pay you for the labor you had put in. Yuta had seen the commotion and joined you in your booth and the two of you flooded the clients company with hilarious bad reviews anonymously until you were literally tearing up from laughter. That was one of the rare days the two of you didn’t get into an argument and the moment completely slipped your mind. You had forgotten that Yuta and you actually shared fond memories of each other outside the bedroom.

You thought about every moment you got to the office and Yuta would be sticking his tongue out at you, calling you names and being a jerk as usual. But days when he had to work out of the office felt boring, empty, it wasn’t worth sitting in your cubicle without seeing him across from you.

But then after feeling the warm fuzziness of knowing Yuta felt the same way about you, your phone buzzed with Jeno’s name across the screen. Why were you doing this to him ? Why was Jeno in the crossfire when all he wanted to do was get to know you better ?

All you ever wanted was a distraction from the man you were scared to fall in love with.

“Heyyy you, you feeling okay ?” Jeno beamed when you entered the office, immediately bringing you into a tight hug and ending with a kiss on the cheek. You nodded and the sense of guilt over took your body as you looked up at his cheery smile.

“I heard you guys got so wasted at the party, damn I wish I stayed” Jeno giggled as the two of you walked hand in hand over to your cubicle. “Yeah it was…crazy” you faked a smile before settling in your seat. You looked across, a force of habit and you were greeted by a soft smile from Yuta before quietly returning to his work.

“I was thinking we should go see that new marvel movie tonight, what do you think ?” Jeno’s eyes were so bright and full of energy that everytime you looked into them it just made it harder to keep up your facade. “I’m pretty busy this week but hey Friday you can come over, I…need to talk to you anyway” you bit down on your lip and Jeno’s expression changed from excited to slightly wary, clearly noticing that something wasn’t quite right.

“Is….everything okay?” He asked in a staggered voice, and you slowly nodded and reached to squeeze his hand, “yeah let’s hang out on Friday okay ?” You smiled and Jeno pressed his lips together and nodded. You watched him exit your cubicle and all that was left in your view was the only person you wanted to see today, Yuta.

Yuta looked up and caught your stare, smiling softly as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand and winked at you. It was sweet and innocent, nothing like how he usually acted from across the room. You found yourself blushing and hid your face until you heard a beep come from your phone. Opening the messenger app you were greeted by a picture of yourself hiding your crimson cheeks with the message ‘Cute’ attached to it.

y/n: didn’t take you for a simp.

yutaa: fuck off, I have a folder like this.

You stifled your laughter when Yuta sent a screenshot with a folder just of you in your cubicle. From you flipping him off, to you glaring at him clearly pissed off at something he had said, and one of you trying your best to pay attention to whatever story Yangyang was on about.

y/n: oh my god you’re a BIG SIMP.

yutaa: maybe.

y/n: well I do have ONE of you that I don’t have the heart to delete.

yutaa: oh really ?

You sent Yuta a picture you absolutely treasured of him in your bed fast asleep hugging one of your plushies. It was one of the last nights you had with him before things got sour. Normally you’d never allow him to nap in your bed after a hookup but he looked so at peace and so adorable that you decided to bend the rules a little.

yutaa: that was a good ass nap. yutaa: simp.

y/n: maybe.

The rest of the day went on and honestly you felt as if you were on cloud nine, chatting to Yuta like he was your high school crush. Smiling every time he texted back and glancing up every now and then, waiting for him to look at you with that cheeky grin. But as reality set in and Yuta’s smile faded, you were still dating another man. Who now had his arms wrapped around your waist peppering kisses all over your neck and shoulder while Yuta looked on, not being able to do a thing about it.

————————————————————————

The team decided to head out for dinner the next day, and something in Jeno had switched. After Yuta had watched him cuddle you until the day was over, you barely even got the chance to talk to Yuta face to face since Jeno offered to take you home. He was being suspiciously clingy and you wondered if he suspected anything.

“You’re okay with sharing a pasta and plate of fries ?” Jeno smiled over at you, one hand rubbing your waist and the other holding up the wooden menu. You nodded and Jeno placed his order in with Johnny who was doing the rounds for everyone. Yuta sat across from you and you could feel his stare on you from time to time, and the moments it felt like he was staring, Jeno’s grip on your waist got tighter.

“Is...is something wrong ?” you leaned into Jeno as he took a sip of his water. Even though he was smiling, his jaw was clenched signaling that he was trying to suppress himself from doing or saying something. “I'm just really tired” he rubbed your back and to your surprise leaned in to capture your lips. It was innocent but your lack of effort to mind his feelings wasn't good enough for Yuta. Frankly he had no idea where you two stood at the moment, for all he knew you could be playing him right now. It probably wasn't the case though, but Yuta was not really used to his life getting a happy ending. The night drove on and the group split with you, Ten, Doyoung, Taeyong and Renjun seated at the table while the rest of the guys were hanging around the bar babysitting their drinks. Jeno was really a changed man since high school. He was so confident, well-built and a good socialite with the team. You watched him lean against the bar counter, drink in hand entertaining whatever story Lucas had for the night.

“So you and y/n huh ? Have you scored yet ?” Lucas raised his brow cheekily to which Jeno chuckled and shook his head, “Really Lucas ? were talking about my sex life now ?” Yuta was in conversation with Johnny and Sungchan but he couldn't help but overhear your name in the chat next to him.

“Yeah man, I'm sure she’s good too after locking down my boy Yuta” Lucas smirked and Yuta flinched when the boisterous man grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him into the conversation. “Even though they hate each other I just know they had the best hook ups” Lucas laughed despite Johnny trying to make him shut up.

“Well that’s all over now” Jeno’s eyes narrowed on Yuta before looking up at Lucas, “she invited me over tonight and considering the type of pictures she sent me, i'm guessing it’s going to be one hell of a night.” Yuta’s chest felt tight not only at the possibility that you may have invited him over to finally sleep with him but mainly because of the way Jeno spoke about you. He probably only shared that information to appease Lucas but hinting at you sending him nudes was not something you would like the guys to know about.

“She’s really been trying to speed up the process between us too it's cute actually” Jeno continued as Yangyang and Lucas egged him on, “that night after that painting you guys did for Mark Lee she was practically begging me to fuck her after our movie date. God if my brother didn't give me all those errands I would've done so right on the kitchen counter.”

Yuta shot back the rest of his drink and stormed off as Lucas and Yangyang hyped up Jeno, pouring him another shot and laughing erratically in their drunken state. From where you were seated you saw Yuta storm off and watched Johnny run after him worriedly, making you slightly anxious.

“Yuta don't listen to them man '' Johnny huffed as he finally caught up to his friend a few blocks down from the restaurant. “I dont fucking care man I really dont” Yuta chuckled dryly and ran his fingers through his hair, “It doesnt matter because at the end of the day im still the worthless piece of shit and guys like him are God fucking sent.” Johnny watched Yuta’s expression change and he turned around to find you standing there, desperately looking between them for context.

“Yuta what happened ?” you asked in a small voice and the familiar sting in his chest returned, hearing you call out his name, following him out here while Jeno was still inside, it was all just confusing to him.

“I thought you giving us a week meant you felt the same way and I could finally relax knowing you were going to be with me y/n” Yuta groaned in frustration while Johnny took a step away from the heated exchange. You shook your head as you approached him, “yes I did, so what's the problem ?” Yuta scoffed and folded his arms. “What's the problem ? doesn't look like anything’s changed y/n. I have to see you act like the couple of the year after telling you how I felt about you ? That's brilliant.”

“I told you I would speak to him this week” you snapped, unbothered by the now random onlookers who were concerned at the scene taking place. “But fine honestly Yuta if you really want me to say it you have my permission to fuck some random girl until im finally free.” You rolled your eyes about to turn on your heels to leave when you felt a tug on your wrist and Yuta pulled you into a kiss. He held your face in his hands as he kissed you passionately, sighing as he slowly pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours,

“When I said I loved you I fucking meant it y/n, I only want you. But please, if youre going to invite him over or send him dirty...pictures atleast tell him not to tell the whole fucking world about it.”

You took a step back and frowned at his words, “What ? What pictures ?”

“The ones he told Lucas about, y/n honestly I don't care I was just mad that he was airing your business out like that” Yuta bit down on his lip and yet again you were deeply confused as to what he was on about.

“I...I didn't send him anything” you responded, “I didn't invite him over tonight and I definitely haven't sent him any...nudes.”

“Tell that to him then”

You turned around and noticed most of the team was now outside watching the commotion go down and right in front was Jeno, who by the look on his face had most likely seen the kiss you just shared with Yuta.

Jeno approached the both of you with an irritated groan and scoffed, “I was going to ignore the signs but God I was so right, you were still fucking him this entire time ?” You lowered your head and Yuta glared at Jeno, “If you knew all this time why didn't you just break up with her and move on ?”

Jeno rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Yuta to which Johnny quickly responded by placing a firm hand on Jeno’s shoulder making sure the boy was at safe distance from his best friend.

“I'm not like you Yuta” Jeno licked his lips, “unlike you I respect her, I understand that she was going back to you because you like to play around, you never cared about her until I showed up. You were threatened by the fact that you were no longer in control of her.”

“Nobody is in control of me first of all” you chimed in, “and second what’s this about me inviting you over and sending you nudes that apparently the whole fucking bar knows about”

“It's just banter y/n” Jeno shook his head.

“Banter ?” Yuta repeated, “didnt know talking about how you were going to fuck your girlfriend on the kitchen counter in front of her coworkers is banter.”

“What?” you walked up to Jeno, “W-where is this coming from Jeno ? you’re not like this.”

“Well how am I supposed to be y/n ?” Jeno raised his voice, “you wouldn't mind if he said that to you. You're always letting him get away with shit. Im the one sitting around here knowing my damn girlfriend is fucking around with someone else yet somehow still trying to forgive you and figure this out.”

“Why, though ?” you shrugged, “Is it because you want to prove to other people that you're the bigger person ?”

“Would you rather be with someone like him ? someone who will probably throw you aside after he’s bored, or someone like me who was always patient, always willing to put you first no matter what” Jeno reached for your hand, his eyes widening when you shrugged him off.

“Someone who I barely know that talks about me to my friends like im just some kind of whore or someone i've known for a while and not once shared anything intimate that happened between us,” you looked over at Yuta, “It was my one rule, the same rule I gave you Jeno and he was, Yuta is the only one who has abided to it.”

“y/n Im sorry,” Jeno lowered his voice, “we hurt each other and I want to fix that, just make your final decision...me or Yuta”

“Jeno….I apologize for using you, I'm sorry for leading and hurting your feelings” you began and Yuta slowly shook his head and turned around ready to hear the bad news that always seemed to follow him,

“But as crazy as it may sound to everyone here, I'm most like myself when I'm with Yuta, I love the person I am when I'm around him” Yuta turned at your words and instead of the sting he felt a sense of warmth. Hearing you say that in front of everyone who wanted the two of you apart, besides Johnny ofcourse, was absolute bliss.

“Who knows maybe it won't work and it will explode but I really want to try, that's the thing I'm most sure of, I really really want to try” you smiled as Yuta made his way over to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Let's get out of here” Yuta whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek and draping his arm over your shoulder as the two of you exited the street walking away from the mess and not even giving it a second glance.

The two of you ended up at your apartment full of smiles and giggles as you slowly discarded your clothes on the way to the bedroom. Once your back touched your soft duvet covers Yuta pressed his body against yours and peppered your skin with kisses all the way up to your ear. “I want to try something different” he whispered and you nodded in response while Yuta pulled his shirt over his head and discarded his jeans. Yuta pulled you on top of his body and returned to your lips, kissing you slowly and passionately. His touches were so delicate and nurturing that every time his fingers ran down your back you felt butterflies in your stomach. You unhooked your bra shimmied out of it, still attached to the addictive taste of Yuta’s lips. He slowly rolled you onto your back and left soft kisses all the way down your neck, down the valley of your breasts until he reached your abdomen. You watched as he pulled your underwear off, looking at your body like it was the most beautiful thing he had seen. That was it. Instead of lust he looked at you with love. He looked like he wanted to take care of you, be gentle with you, savour every moment he had with you. Your breathing hitched when you quickly realized that he inserted himself inside of you and used one arm to steady himself on the bed as he lent down to meet your lips. His strokes were slow but sharp, digging his nails into your thigh from time to time, preventing himself from losing control. Wanting to feel more of him you signaled that you wanted to switch positions and Yuta licked his lips as he watched you place your knees on either side of him and sit down on his member. “F-fuck” he cursed as you began to ride him, keeping to his wishes of keeping things calm and slow. Yuta wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as the two of you kissed in between your moans, twirling your tongue with his as your hips slammed into his.

“Y-Yuta…” you moaned, feeling a tear escape your eye as the long night and the building orgasm caught up with you.

“Yes baby ?” he hummed in your ear.

“I really fucking love you” you sighed, just the words finally leaving your mouth made you sob with joy. It felt so fucking good to finally say it out loud.

Yuta responded by flipping you onto your back and chased both his and your orgasm, fucking you with his usual intensity until you came and he followed straight after, filling the room with heavy pants and both of you trying to catch your breath.

“I love you too y/n” He finally said, bringing you to his chest and pressed his lips against your forehead.

The two of you lay in your bed both napping for a bit until the first sight of dawn began filling the bedroom. You winced at the sun and hid your face in Yuta’s arms as he grinned at your actions.

“I don't want to go to work!” you grumbled.

“Fuck go to work after all the drama you caused ?” Yuta pinched your cheek playfully, earning a nudge in his side from you.

“Anyway” Yuta continued, “I got an email from Taeyong and he said if we want we can work remotely, he gave us the Okinawa project.” You sat up in bed and turned to face him, “the Okinawa project ? Its 9 months in Japan, the same project the whole damn building was trying to get” you blinked, still unsure if Yuta was just fucking with you.

“That's the one” Yuta shrugged, “anyways he said he was going to send either of us anyway since he knows we always get the job done. Oh and he actually said something really funny actually”

“What ?” you raised your brow and watched Yuta reread the text message on his phone.

“He said Doyoung was the one who suggested the two of us be the ones to go, who would've thought ?” Yuta closed the messages and tucked himself back into bed.

“Yeah” you smiled, “Who would've thought.”

THE END

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