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honeyhotteoks · 2 years ago

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hold fast together (j.yh + p.sh)

summary: fourth installment in the husbands series; you want more, you want a family, but it’s never quite that simple part one: room for three || part two: and if i stay || part three: their gift

note: 18+ content, minors DNI. // this is just all the husbands yunhwa angst, fluff, smut, love, all of it. check the warnings before you read though!

warnings: non idol!yunho, non idol!seonghwa, fem!reader, married!yunhwa, established yunhwa x reader relationship, mmf, fertility issues, period talk, conception talk, stress and angst over conceiving, mention of adoption, brief mention of parental disapproval of reader’s relationship with yunhwa, but then on a lighter note.... praise, degredation/humilitation, reference to bdsm collar, use of puppy but not pet play this time, rough foreplay, rough sex, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), face riding, cum eating, cumshots, creampie, heavy handed breeding kink obviously, hard dom hwa and use of sir, hard dom yunho and use of daddy, anal play (m receiving), gratuitous use of good girl, sweet girl, pretty girl, slut, etc., spanking/impact play..... anyways this one starts off emo and then gets into filthy breeding kink that very few people asked for but HEY here we are - please let me know if i missed any.

pairings: yunho x seonghwa x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff

word count: 12K

my masterlist || read it on AO3 || part five; a little more love to give

A little part of you is hoping you’re wrong, that the cramping is something else, but you’ve gotten so used to the feeling over the course of fifteen plus years of having a period that you know your hopes are just that. You use the bathroom quietly, chewing the inside of your lip and thinking about the unopened pack of pregnancy tests in the drawer next to you. The telltale feeling of blood makes you ill.

You’ve been trying for a baby for a while. Longer than some of your friends, but not as long as other people you know who’ve struggled with fertility issues, but none of it makes you feel any better. For all the years of birth control pills, condoms, panicked emergency contraception and cycle tracking, you always thought that once you were ready this was going to be easy. Decades of messaging about how birth control was never one hundred percent effective always made it seem like a single misstep would leave you knocked up in a minute. You never really considered you’d have to really try to get pregnant.

You give yourself a little time to cry, slapping the tap on high to muffle some of the sounds of your sniffling. You give yourself five minutes, just five, to live inside this confusing sadness, and then you pat your face dry and resolve that it’s time to get on with it. You open the drawer, ignore the pregnancy tests sealed tightly in plastic, and fish a tampon out of their open box. When you’re finally ready to leave the bathroom, your eyes are a little red but it’s not immediately obvious that you’ve been crying, and that’ll have to be good enough.

Yunho and Seonghwa are still sleeping when you quietly pad out of the room, though they’ve rolled closer to each other with you out of bed. In the kitchen you start your morning routine, and you try not to think about it. You make coffee, disregarding the ache in your back. You put away the dry dishes, trying not to fixate on the number of periods you’ve gotten since you started trying for a baby. But that’s hard, especially with the pain of your first day cramps and the way you just want to curl up in a ball and go to sleep until it’s over.

Your eyes fill with tears again, and you pour yourself a cup of coffee through blurred, cloudy vision. You reach up into the cupboard above the stove where you keep the medicine and the first aid kit and find the bottle of pain-killers, your breath hitching as your tears come faster. You knock your hand against your too-full cup of coffee and it spills across the counter, and you bite your tongue to keep from letting it get to you. It’s just an accident.

It isn’t until you are trying to open the top of the bottle that your brain really starts to spiral. You can’t quite get the child lock arrows to line up, and the lid just won’t budge. Through your hazy tears you can’t really see where the arrows are, and frustrated heat flushes through your cheeks. Can’t one, single thing be easy? The arrows align right as you double your efforts pressing up on the lid in an attempt to force the bottle open, and it all but explodes in your hands. Tiny blue pills scatter everywhere, clattering across the counters and floor, the entire contents of the bottle upended.

The white hot rage that bubbles inside you is fast and hard and you snap, throwing the empty bottle down with a tight sob, “God dammit!” You sink low, dropping to your knees on the tile and biting back the urge to break something else, anything else.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been kneeling here, trying futilely to gather up a little pile of the pills while the coffee finally makes it to the edge of the counter so it can drip down onto the tile next to you, but you hear his footsteps before he says anything. Yunho waits a moment, and you hear him pick up the bottle to your side before he sighs, “Oh, my love,”

“Please, don’t,” You shake your head.

“It’s okay,” He tries to soothe.

“Do not tell me this is okay,” You say sharply, “nothing about this okay,”

“Alright,” He murmurs, crouching by your side. His broad hand rests in the middle of your back, and you jerk at the sudden contact.

“Just give me a second,”

“Okay,” He draws his hand back.

“I’ll get it together,” You such in a sharp breath, “and I’ll clean this up,”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Yunho shakes his head, “just take a deep breath. Everything is,” he pauses, “going to be fine,”

“Is Seonghwa awake?” You turn towards him, scrubbing your tears away with the towel you had picked up to mop up the coffee.

“Not yet,” The face he’s giving you is so soft that you might scream.

“Don’t tell him,” You shake your head, “just… I’ll do it later, I just,”

“y/n,” Yunho murmurs, “come on, don’t do that,”

You haul yourself up from the floor and drop the towel over the coffee spill, watching the way the dark liquid seeps into the white cloth. Your jaw locks together and you swallow tightly, kicking yourself back into gear and cleaning up the mess.

Yunho stands behind you and lays a hand on your neck, kneading your skin here gently, “Baby,”

“Just don’t,” You repeat, “please, don’t tell him today,”

“Don’t tell me what?” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through, muffled by his yawn and you curse softly.

Yunho sighs and drops a kiss to your hair before turning to him, “Morning,”

“Good morning to you too,” You hear the confusion in his voice but he makes it further into the room and you can practically hear the puzzle pieces slot themselves together in his brain, “oh,”

That’s the tone you were hoping to avoid, Seonghwa’s soft disappointment.

You release the collection of pills that you had picked up from the floor, leaving them in a neat little pile on the counter, and your tears rush up again. Yunho folds his arms around you instantly, cradling you against his chest and hushing you, his broad hand rubbing a firm, comforting line up your back.

“I know you don’t want me to say it’s okay,” Yunho says, his voice low, “but I promise you that it is,”

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, hiding in his chest and hanging onto the back of his shirt while you try to get yourself under control. You can’t help the way your mind starts counting though, going through every month. The first couple were easy to brush off, but now it’s not so easy.

“Ten months,” You sob into his chest, “it’s been ten months,”

“I know,” He murmurs.

“We’ve been trying so hard,”

“So we’ll try harder, or something different,” He soothes, “and they said it can take time for your body to re-regulate after coming off birth control. We’re not in a rush,”

“I’m thirty-two,” You push back from his chest and wipe the tears away.

“Mhm,” He nods, “I know that,”

You can’t even so much as glance at Seonghwa, a single shred of his sad eyes at yet another month with no happy announcement would have you spiraling. You know how much he wants a child, how deeply he wants to be a father.

You drop your eyes, shaking your head as your back cramps again, “I just don’t know why I can’t even give you this,”

“What?” Yunho’s voice is suddenly small, soft.

“I’m supposed to be able to do this,” Your real fears bubbles up your throat, “y-you want to be parents so badly, I should be able to do this,”

The silence stretches. Yunho looks stricken, your words rooting him to the spot.

Seonghwa steps closer, resting his hands gingerly on your arms and finally breaking his silence, “Do you think that’s all we love you for? All we want you for?”

You can’t answer.

He shifts to your side, kissing your temple and cupping your cheek in his warm palm, “You’re our wife,” he insists, “we didn’t want you because we thought you could make us parents, y/n, we want you. We all want to be parents, all of us together. Don’t we?”

Hot pinpricks behind your eyes start again, but you nod into his palm, “I know, I’m sorry, I know,”

“Yunho,” Seonghwa reaches out a hand, tugging him in close to make a circle. Seonghwa smiles, kissing you tenderly and then says, “This, the three of us, that’s what’s right.”

“What if I can’t get pregnant?” You sigh, “What then?”

“Then we see a doctor,” Yunho says, his voice thick with emotion before he clears it and gives you a comforting smile, “and if that doesn’t work, we’ll find another way. We’ll get a surrogate. We’ll adopt. There’s a million ways to have a baby, we just have to stay calm and stick together in this,”

“I know you wanted it to be easy,” Seonghwa murmurs, “we all did, but sometimes it’s not easy. For millions of people it’s not easy,”

Your mind flicks back to the expression on your mother’s face when she suggested it was because you were being greedy trying to love two men. You haven’t spoken to her since. You shake that off and lean into your partners, “Okay,”

“Yunho’s right,” Seonghwa reassures you, “we have time, and we have options.”

You know they’re right, it’s the speech you’ve been giving to yourself too in moments of panic, but hearing them say it finally starts to put you at ease.

“For right now just relax,” Yunho kisses your hair, “you’re not feeling well so let’s go back to bed a while, it’s still early,”

“Mm,” You nod, wiping away the last remnants of your tears and pushing away from them with a sigh, “you’re right, I’m tired,”

“Let’s go,” Seonghwa says.

Yunho and Seonghwa communicate silently with their eyes, and Yunho stays behind in the kitchen to clean up while Seonghwa ferries you back to bed. He makes short work of getting your heating pad plugged in and laid out across the bed and fluffing up the pillows before tucking you back in. Yunho brings you a fresh cup of coffee and a glass of water, two pain-killers tucked into his palm for you.

“I’m sorry about before,” You sigh as he passes the pills over to you.

“Don’t be,” He brushes off your words.

“No,” You insist, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that,”

He nods, a soft murmur of thanks on his lips.

You sigh heavily, rubbing your hands over your face and smoothing back your hair, finally getting your emotions back in check, “Are you getting up, then?” you ask them.

Seonghwa shakes his head immediately, crawling back into bed, “You’re stuck with me,”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” He nods, snuggling close and kissing any scrap of skin he can reach, “we can spend the day in bed if you want, whatever you want,”

“You’re supposed to write today,” You remind him, painfully aware of his fast approaching deadlines and how the stress has kept him from staying on track.

Seonghwa shrugs, “That’s the beauty of my job,” he smiles, “I can do it whenever I want,”

“Hwa,” You hesitate.

“If I tell you that I need this too, will you stop arguing and just let me hold you?” He sighs.

You nod, your voice stuck in your throat and you simply take his hand, letting yourself soften in his embrace. Behind you, Yunho slides into bed himself and tucks himself long against your back. He’s quiet though, so much more silent than you normally see. He should be complaining about the heating pad being too hot or your feet being too cold, he should be making some kind of joke or trying his best to comfort you both, but instead all you can feel is his tension.

“Yunho,” You brush your hand over his, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” His hand slips away.

“You can talk to me,” You press him, “I know this is hard on you both too,”

There’s a long pause, Yunho shifting in bed behind you until he settles but still says nothing. Your eyes flick to Seonghwa who watches him intently, trying to read into his husband’s sudden silence.

Finally, Yunho sighs. “What you said earlier,” He murmurs, “I don’t understand why you’re blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault. And it’s upsetting you more than you’re letting us know, and I don’t like it.”

“Oh,” You breathe

“It’s no one’s fault,” He presses, “and I don’t want to hear you say something like that again,”

You’re silent, still as you take in his words, but Seonghwa laughs humorlessly and then says, “Besides, it could be me,”

“What?” You twist in Yunho’s arms to see Seonghwa better.

“It takes two,” He shrugs, rubbing his hand over his neck, “someone has to actually get you pregnant, and it’s entirely possible that I can’t,”

“Stop it,” Yunho says immediately, shifting up to a sitting position, “we’re not doing this,”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Seonghwa says, and you watch his expression fall when he realizes his words.

Yunho’s jaw tightens but he shakes it off, “Like I said, we’re not doing this. There’s no blame, no fault, this is just a thing we have to figure out. Together.”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa murmurs, and Yunho reaches across you to take his hand.

“I’ll make an appointment,” You interrupt softly, “I think it’s time,”

Yunho eases back down on one side, and Seonghwa follows on your other. You’re tucked between them on your heating pad, and Yunho pulls the comforter back up over the three of you to combat the winter chill of your apartment. Seonghwa smooths his hand over your lower belly and starts to gently press and circle his fingers, lightly massaging your tense muscles in just the way you need.

“So, we’ll talk to a doctor then?” Seonghwa nods, “and go from there,”

“Yeah,” You feel tears in your eyes again but you take a deep inhale and will them away.

“For now,” Yunho says, brushing your hair away from your face, “let’s not think about it. Let’s relax and go back to normal, I can’t watch the stress eat you both up anymore,”

“Are you okay?” You meet Yunho’s eyes.

“I’m always okay,” He shakes off your question.

You lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips, relishing in the feeling of his warm hand brushing over your cheek. You know this process is taking a toll on him too, but he takes being the rock in your relationship so seriously that you can almost barely tell. He’s been the voice of reason and positivity ever since things started to get harder and harder. He manages the worries of both of you, he keeps you calm and steady.

“We’ll make an appointment,” Seonghwa agrees, “and then you’re right, let’s just live our lives a bit. If it happens, it happens. And whatever the doctor says, we’ll go from there.”

“And if there is something wrong?” Your murmur.

“There’s a million ways,” Seonghwa repeats Yunho’s words, committed to them, holding them like a sure prayer.

“A million ways,” You repeat softly, nodding.

You’re doing your best, and so are they. Almost a year of this stress fundamentally changing so many aspects of your relationship, parts of it are almost unrecognizable. You’re caught with a foot in two lives, missing the way it used to be but desperately aching for something more. You have to keep telling yourself that it’s a test, that’s all this is. Nothing can be so easy that everything always and forever falls into place.

*****

“I miss coffee,” You sigh, propping your head up on the pillow behind you and looking down at Yunho.

He smiles, lips curving up against the skin of your belly as he gives you featherlight kisses, lying between your open legs and smoothing his warm hands over your skin. He presses another kiss to your hip and then looks up at you, “I know, but she said it could help,”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t miss it,” You nudge him with your knee and he chuckles.

The doctor had told you a lot of things, an overwhelming amount of advice on how to increase your chances of getting pregnant before she would recommend putting you on any kind of formal fertility treatment. You and Seonghwa both turned out to both be perfectly healthy, not a risk factor in sight for why you are having this much trouble conceiving. It’s a relief, but it isn’t an explanation. Aside from limiting caffeine, you’ve quit drinking, started better regulating your diet and taking a whole host of targeted vitamins and natural remedies. You’ve spent the last month and a half plotting out your ovulation days, and while it isn’t the most romantic way to conceive, at this point it doesn’t matter.

“Baby,” Yunho smiles, “as soon as you can have coffee again, I’ll buy you the fanciest espresso machine. You’ll have all the coffee you want,”

“Mm,” You reach for him, “promise?”

“Promise,” He nods, kissing you again.

“You think it’ll work this time?” You squeeze his hand.

Yunho sighs and squeezes you back, “I think it might,” he murmurs, “we know a lot more than we knew three months ago,”

“True,” You grin, “I didn’t know there could be so much to it,”

“Mm,” He nods, “but you’re feeling good? Stressed?”

Of course the thing Yunho heard at the doctor’s office louder than anything else was to limit stress. It made conceiving harder, and the early days after conception riskier. Ever since he’s been following you around with his every spare second, attempting to keep every tiny moment stress free.

“Yunho,” You assure him, “I’m just fine,”

“Sure?”

“Honestly, I’m weirdly zen about this whole thing,” You admit to him, “I feel really good about this time,”

He smiles, opening his mouth to say something but his phone rings next to you both and he reaches for it to cut off the sudden harsh sound. Seonghwa’s picture lights up his cell, and he slides his thumb across the screen, “Hi, yeobo,”

You can’t quite make out Seonghwa’s side of the conversation, but you can hear the intonation of his voice, and you smile at the sound of it.

“Yeah, she’s here,” Yunho says, looking up at you from his relaxed position, “mhm, yeah,”

You tap Yunho’s arm and get his attention, “He’s on his way?” you mouth to him quietly.

Yunho nods and then turns his attention back to his husband’s words. He smiles, “I’ll keep her company until you get here. Did you want to talk to her?”

You reach out your hand eagerly, wanting to hear Seonghwa’s voice and Yunho nods, passing the phone over to you.

“Hwa?”

“Hi, my love,” He says, his voice warm and lovely, “I’m on my way home,”

“I know,” You murmur, watching as Yunho starts fiddling with the fingers of your free hand, “we’re not in a rush or anything, take your time.”

“And you feel okay?” He asks.

“You both need to stop worrying,” You chuckle into the phone, “I feel good, positive,”

“Me too,” He murmurs.

It makes your heart warm, after all the months of struggling, this month you were approaching things differently. You’ve made a pact with them, to be hopeful and to not let any of the long term anxieties trickle in. The doctor had given you all the right assurances to help calm your minds, and you had been doing all the right things.

“Seonghwa,” You murmur, your thumb rubbing soft circles into Yunho’s palm as you talk to your other husband, “I love you so much,”

There’s a pause, but you hear his soft exhale, “Me too, I love you so much, darling,”

“I can’t wait for you to come home,” You admit to him, “I just know this is it,”

“Twenty minutes,” He says, “I’m on my way,”

“Okay,”

“Can you give the phone back to Yunho a minute?” Seonghwa asks softly.

“Mhm, I’ll see you soon,” You tell him, and reach the phone back out to Yunho.

“Hey,” Yunho says as he takes the call back.

You watch him listen, and then smile, throwing a quick glance at you. His hand tightens on your hip just a little, giving you a comforting squeeze, and then he says, “Of course, I can,” another beat passes, “Alright, I love you too,”

Once Yunho drops the phone he pushes himself back up onto his knees and slides over to your side, wrapping an arm around you and drawing you up onto his chest.

“Hey,” You laugh, letting him pull your body into the position he wants against his chest.

“Come here,” He squeezes you, “let me hold you a bit,”

Smiling against his shoulder you shake your head, “Did Hwa tell you to distract me or something?”

“No,” He answers quickly, “not exactly,”

“God,” You laugh, “you’re both going to be the most attentive fathers, we’re going to have to have more than one kid,”

Yunho’s hand pauses on your back and he gives you another squeeze, “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” You kiss his chest, “all that attention on just one baby? You’ll spoil them so rotten,”

Yunho cups your cheek, drawing your eyes up and he studies your expression. He looks like he has something to say, but he’s debating, so you prod him a little to get him to give it up, whatever it is that he’s thinking. He strokes your cheek, “This is the first time you’ve talked about it since we started trying,”

“Kids?” Your brow furrows, “We talk about it constantly,”

“No,” He shakes his head, “we talk about getting pregnant constantly. We haven’t talked about kids, our kids, in… I don’t know, yeobo, it’s just… god it’s nice to hear,”

He’s right, you realize it instantly. You haven’t taken a moment to imagine it in a long time. The way you want your baby to have Seonghwa’s eyes and good head of hair, the way you always used to imagine your next child with Yunho having the perfect curve of his cupid’s bow. You used to fantasize about it all the time, a clear image of your husbands reading a storybook aloud with different voices for all the characters to make your babies laugh. Seonghwa fixing breakfast, Yunho grilling them meat for dinner. Painting their bedroom ceiling a starry sky, little lights in the night to hold them safe.

“I didn’t realize,” You admit, smoothing your hand over his chest, “I guess I was so afraid it might not happen,”

“And now?” You haven’t seen him look so truly hopeful in months.

“I realized you’re right,” You smile, “if it doesn’t work one way it will work another way. I’m not scared anymore,”

He smiles, his brown eyes soft and warm.

“I know it’ll happen,” You murmur to him, “as long as it’s the three of us, it’ll happen,”

His eyes are shining when he pushes forwards and captures your lips, pulling you up to meet his mouth and bruising your mouth with his. When you met them, you had no idea. Date after failed date with men who were right for you on paper in every possible way, but you could never, ever make yourself care. When you saw them across the bar that night, something different stirred in you, something clicking into place.

Yunho’s lips are warm, his tongue dipping into your mouth to catch against yours, and his hands suddenly feel everywhere, starving for you, aching. Your leg hitches up on his hip, drawing him closer and he slots himself back above you, his sweet, soft kisses from earlier are nowhere to be found now. His hands push up your sweater, like he’s desperate to find your skin, and you moan into his mouth.

“I need you,” He chokes against you, tugging down your leggings with his free hand.

“Y-Yunho,” You shudder, “slow down,”

He shakes his head, leaving them half off and caught around your knees, and he shifts to tug the sweater off over your head instead. Blush ignites up your chest as he touches you, so much needier and frantic than you’ve felt from him in months, and you feel your body responding, a rush of wetness between your thighs.

“You’re perfect,” He palms your breast, almost a little too roughly, pulling down the strap of your bra and kissing across your pink chest. You gasp as he tweaks your nipple between his fingers, your body already sensitive and on edge. Yunho shifts up between your knees, yanking your leggings down further, dragging your underwear with it, pushing your thighs open as wide as the fabric around your calves will allow.

You’re lost in the feeling, his tongue drawing a stripe up your chest and his hot hands traveling everywhere, and it takes a second for you to realize that he’s pushed his own sweatpants down. At the first bump of his hard cock against your wet folds, you moan, your body arching up into him. When he starts to press down, finding your entrance, logic and reason flood back into you.

“Yunho,” You push at his shoulders, “baby, wait,”

He pulls back a little, but his hips shift forward still.

“Baby, stop,” Your voice is firmer now, and he stills completely.

“Fuck,” His hips shift back, drawing his cock away from your core, “I’m sorry, god, I don’t know what got into me,”

“It’s fine,” You shake your head, kissing him again and smoothing your hands up and down his back, “we don’t have to stop, we just can’t,”

“I know,” He relaxes again, and this time the stiff line of his cock simply nestles between your wet folds, pressing the underside of his shaft firmly along your clit and he smiles when you shiver beneath him. He smooths the hair back from your face, “I fucking miss being inside you though,”

Despite Seonghwa’s protests at the beginning of it all, you and Yunho had made an agreement. Your first baby would be Seonghwa’s, and if you were only ever blessed with one, Yunho wanted his husband to be happy more than he needed a baby with his genes.

“I miss you too,” You sigh, “so much.” You roll your hips, dragging your clit along his shaft to chase a delicious pulse of pleasure, and you watch as his face falls, his hands tight on you again.

“If you keep doing that it’s going to make it really hard not to fuck you,” He groans, “it’s been months,”

It wasn’t for lack of trying other things though - he’d had you every other way imaginable since you stopped taking birth control, but your body still clenches at the thought. Smiling up at him you cup his cheek, running the pad of your thumb over his plush bottom lip and roll your hips again, “How would you fuck me?”

He swallows hard, his resolve crumbling and his eyes flick down to the necklace around your throat, “You really want to know?”

You haven’t heard that low voice in ages, so long since you’ve dipped into a scene with either of them. They’ve spent months being tender and careful with you, too cautious to really engage in the more intense dynamics you were used to. At the sound of his dominant tone slipping through, you whimper, nodding up at him.

Yunho drops low over you, his thick length pressing against your core more firmly and his arms caging you in. He nips at your lip and then drops slow kisses down your jaw, “You want to know what I’d do to you, baby?”

“Please,” You let your eyes slip closed.

He rocks his hips to give you a single stroke of friction on your clit and you gasp, warmth bubbling in your belly already. His teeth catch your earlobe and pull gently before he says, “Mm, you don’t sound like you really want to know,”

“I do,” You moan, your head falling back as he pumps his hips once more, “fuck, please, Yunho, tell me,”

“That’s better,” He praises softly, kissing along your throat.

You make a soft moan, your hips canting up once to drag your clit along his shaft again, and you can feel just how wet and slick you are as you try to catch better friction.

“I’d fold my pretty girl open,” Yunho says, his hand running a firm line over your exposed breast and down to your waist, “and I’d stuff her perfect, pink pussy full,”

“Fuck,” Your nails dig into his arm, “Yunho, oh my god,”

“You’re so wet, puppy,” He murmurs, rocking his hips again, “do you miss coming on my cock that badly?”

You moan again, choked and desperate, your mind spinning at the sudden change in heat between you and you think for a split second if he keeps talking to you like this you might come just from the sound of his voice alone.

“I asked you a question,” His words rocket you back into the moment, “are you too desperate to answer?”

“Yes,” You rock your hips again, rolling them now at a slow and steady pace to maintain the bubbling feeling of pleasure.

“Yes, you’re too desperate?” He teases, rising up above you so that you have to meet his eyes.

“Yes, I miss your cock,” You whine.

“What about it, pup?” He prompts you, a firm push on your cheek to bring your face back to center, “Come on,”

“Yes, yes, I miss coming on your cock,” You manage, dizzy and hot all over.

He pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and when the next words roll of his tongue you nearly come on the spot, “Say it right, babygirl,”

“Oh, fuck,” You shudder, and he takes over for you, working his hips a little faster so that his cock slips back and forth between your slick folds at the pace you need. Pleasure sparks from your core to your chest and you let your head fall back as you give him what he needs, “Yes, Daddy,”

He groans at your words, “Louder,”

“Yes, Daddy, I miss coming on your cock,” You moan, holding him closer, “god, Yunho, I’m, fuck, I’m gonna come,”

“Yes, you are pretty girl,” He pants.

The sound of keys dropping onto the dresser by the door shocks you both, and Yunho stills, a gasp bubbles from your lips at the noise and the sudden lack of steady stroking on your swollen bud and you whine softly under him.

“Shh,” Yunho soothes you, “hold on, baby,”

Seonghwa appears in your periphery, handsome as ever, and he unfastens the top two buttons of his shirt, his eyes hungry and dark already at the sight of you both. With a half smile on his lips, his eyes raking over your tangled bodies, you know which Seonghwa you’re getting. “You two look like complete messes,” He says, slipping off his jacket and laying on top of the dresser.

Your body is trembling, you had been so, so close to your orgasm and the sudden pull back of sensation has you feeling absolutely raw. Your hips twitch slightly under Yunho and he exhales tightly, giving you a look.

Yunho clears his throat softly and twists his torso so that he can better see his husband, still not making any moves to pull off you, “Hey,”

Seonghwa grins, softly biting his lip, and you watch as he takes the decorative chair from the corner and drags it along the carpet until it’s next to the bed. You watch as Yunho’s lips part, and you feel his cock twitch between your thighs.

“My beautiful, beautiful wife,” Seonghwa smiles, leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his splayed knees, “is Yunho making you feel good?”

You haven’t heard this voice in ages either, and your butterflies churn in your belly. You nod, your eyes locked on Seonghwa.

“Is he taking good care of you?” He asks.

“Mhm,” You sigh, “so good,”

“My love,” Seonghwa says, turning his eyes to Yunho, “you couldn’t wait?”

Yunho can’t answer, simply shaking his head.

“Good,” Seonghwa sits back in the chair, “don’t let me interrupt,”

“This isn’t really what we should be doing right now,” Yunho says, his voice still a little breathy.

“This is exactly what we should be doing,” Seonghwa shakes his head, “besides, our girl deserves our attention doesn’t she?”

Yunho’s hips shift forwards unconsciously, just a little, but the press forwards onto your clit has your breath caught in your throat and Seonghwa’s eyes shift to yours. He smiles, nodding at your little sound of pleasure, “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

“Hwa, please,” You feel like your entire body is trembling now, anticipation and adrenaline flooding through you.

“Alright, darling,” He soothes you, but his voice is still firm and controlled. He looks to Yunho and nods, “Make her come, I want to watch,”

“Fuck, yes,” Yunho drops down over you again, his hips pumping again, and he slips a hand under your backside to palm the soft swell of your ass and tilt your body into a better position.

The sudden fast drag of his skin over yours rips a choked moan from your lips and you grip down on Yunho’s shoulder, your other hand fisting into the bed sheets at your side, “Yunho, baby,”

“Tell me you missed me,” He threads his hand into your hair, softly tugging your head back and you arch beneath him, pushing your hips against his harder and harder.

“Ah,” You whine, “ah, fuck, baby I missed you so much,”

“You want to come don’t you?” He keeps thrusting up between your folds, dragging over you at the most perfect rhythm and you can barely breathe, rocketing back towards your orgasm at what feels like a blinding pace.

“Yes, god, yes,” You feel like you could cry the pleasure is so heady, your body missing this dynamic so much more than you even realized, and he isn’t even inside you.

“Then come, pretty girl,” he tweaks your nipple again, drawing you up faster, “I know you can,”

Your head tips back into the pillows, your body locking up with pleasure, hot with blush and inches from the edge. Yunho sucks in a sharp breath and when you open your eyes again you see Seonghwa shifting onto the bed behind him. He pulls your leggings the rest of the way off your body and Yunho shifts, dropping his hand over your clit to replace his cock and circle it quickly, dipping you backwards into your pleasure again so you don’t lose the orgasm once more.

“Harder, harder,” You choke, “I’m c-close,”

His fingers bear down a little more, and with a sudden hot rush you fall apart in his hands, body shaking and vibrating with sharp shocks across your spine. Yunho’s fingers lift, and his cock slots back down against your core. Your eyes snap open when you hear Yunho let out a tight moan, and you’re still trembling when you watch Seonghwa toss the bottle of lubricant from your nightstand onto the bed. He’s pressed up against his husband’s back, one arm reaching around to run along his chest and the other hidden out of your view, but from the blown out look on Yunho’s face you know exactly what he’s doing.

Seonghwa sidles close to Yunho’s ear, and at the shift of his arm and Yunho’s sudden pant you imagine he’s pushing a finger, maybe two, inside him. “You look so fucking perfect,” Seonghwa says low in his ear.

“Jesus,” Yunho falters forward a little above you, and Seonghwa sticks to him like glue, “fuck, Hwa,”

“y/n, jagi,” Seonghwa says, and you meet his gaze over Yunho’s shoulder, “give me your hand,”

You reach out, and Seonghwa takes his hand off Yunho’s chest to cup yours, drawing it down between your legs and settling it on Yunho’s aching cock. You wait on baited breath for instruction, your eyes darting between them, and Seonghwa wraps your hand around his cock and starts to draw your hand up and down.

“God,” Yunho’s head drops, his hand fisting into the sheets by your side.

You shift your hips away so that you can properly work his cock, and once you take over the rhythm, Seonghwa lifts his hand away so that he can return his fingers to Yunho’s chest, ghosting over his skin and coming dangerously close to his nipples.

“F-fuck,” He chokes, “you two are going to be the death of me,”

“You love us,” Seonghwa teases him, flicking his nipple sharply.

Yunho’s hips jerk, pushing himself into your fist and you smile up at him. “You want to come, baby?”

“Mm,” He manages, his eyes closing as Seonghwa closes his lips over his shoulder.

“That’s it,” Seonghwa murmurs, and then the tone shifts, his hand pumping his fingers faster and you see the moment that he reaches the right spot inside Yunho.

His mouth drops open, his muscles tensing, “I’m,” he shudders above you, “fuck, I’m,”

“Baby, look at me,” You work your hand faster, ignoring the awkward angle and the burn of your muscles as you pump him harder, “look at me,”

His eyes flash open.

“Come, on me please,” With your free hand you coast it up the length of your body, slipping up from your stomach to your chest, palming your breast, “please, baby, I need it,”

His hand grips your waist and you cover it with yours, holding him to you, your pace over his slick cock never faltering.

“Right there?” Seonghwa murmurs in Yunho’s ear, knowing that he’s hitting the right spot inside him, earning a staggered groan. Seonghwa sighs pleasantly, “Right there, I got you baby,”

He comes suddenly, releasing across your belly and breasts in thick, warm ropes and he shakes his head when your hand slows, “No, no,”

You match your previous pace, pumping him fast and hard and drawing out every ounce of his release until he collapses a little more, pushing your hand away and reaching back to still Seonghwa’s motions. His chest is heaving, pink blush from his chest to his cheeks.

“I love you so much,” Seonghwa murmurs softly, pressing a tender kiss to Yunho’s shoulder and another to his hair.

It takes him a moment, but eventually Yunho’s eyes reopen and he pushes back up to a sitting position, twisting around to catch Seonghwa’s mouth. He murmurs his reply, a hushed, dazed confession of his own. You will never, ever get tired of watching them like this. They both sit back on their heels, Seonghwa wrapping his arms around Yunho and leaning his cheek on his shoulder.

You move quietly, pulling your legs back and gingerly rolling off the side of the bed, but as the weight of the bed changes both their eyes open, searching for you.

“Are you alright?” Seonghwa leans back a bit to see you.

“Mhm,” You nod, “relax I’ll just be a sec,”

You silently slip into the bathroom and take the time to clean yourself up. You take care of things with a damp washcloth, and then catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess, and your makeup is smudged under your eyes. You clean your face off completely with a wipe, splashing cool water over your still warm cheeks, and brush through hair until it’s smooth again.

When you open the door to the bedroom, they’re still wrapped tightly around each other, sitting relaxed in the center of the bed. You kneel on the mattress and shift towards them, “Let me in,” you murmur as you make it to them.

They draw you in against their chests with ease, cuddling you close and pressing kisses against your skin. Seonghwa nuzzles your cheek and sighs, “Sometimes I think I’m the luckiest man,”

“Same,” Yunho smiles, dipping down to kiss his husband’s cheek.

“I missed this,” You sigh, held between them.

“Mm,” Seonghwa chuckles, palming your hip and squeezing you a little possessively, “What got into you both? I feel like I just hung up the phone,”

Your eyes crack open and you grin at Yunho, “All I did was start to talk about babies and he jumped me,”

“Really?” Seonghwa all but purrs, quirking a brow at Yunho.

Yunho doesn’t answer right away, and then you register a few things at once. Seonghwa is hard against your back, Yunho’s hand on your inner thigh is coming dangerously close to your center again, and your foam angled pillow is resting at the foot of the bed where it wasn’t a few minutes ago. You feel your body start responding again with ease, goosebumps erupting over your flesh and nipples pebbling.

“I think,” Seonghwa brushes his fingers over Yunho’s chest, “he might like the idea of getting you pregnant,”

Yunho’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his eyes flicking down your naked body.

“Yeah?” You breathe.

“Mhm, but he’ll just have to wait his turn,” Seonghwa pushes Yunho’s hand away from your thighs.

Your head snaps to the side, and Seonghwa kisses you sweetly before pushing you back onto the mattress. Yunho smiles at your confusion and settles down on his side, stretching long next to you.

Seonghwa finishes pulling off his dress shirt and unclasps his belt, and your body starts buzzing once again. When he finally eases back onto the bed he moves between your knees, “He likes the idea,” he says, “but so do I,”

“H-Hwa,” Your voice cracks when he squeezes your thighs hard in his hands.

“We’ve been trying for so long,” He opens your legs, “but I haven’t been honest about what I want,”

Your breath is coming in short staccatoed pants, and your voice is trapped in your throat, unable to even ask what he means or where things are suddenly going. It was supposed to just be another night of maximizing the fact that you’re ovulating and then sitting with your hips up for fifteen minutes to hope gravity might help things move along, but so far that’s not at all where things are headed.

“Tell her,” Yunho prompts when he sees you unable to answer.

“I haven’t had you the way I want in months,” He hooks his hands behind your knees, “I haven’t heard your pretty moans, and I miss the way you beg, darling,”

“Oh, god,” You breathe.

“But most of all,” he tips your legs back with a push of his hands, his gaze intense with heat, “I want to fuck you so full of my cum you can barely keep it inside, I want you to fuck you until you can’t take any more, until you can’t help but get pregnant,”

“W-wait,” You’re shaking under his hands, feeling spread and exposed and raw, “baby, I,”

He stills, his voice still firm but checking in all the same, “Love?”

“I… I don’t,”

Seonghwa shakes his head and interrupts, “y/n,” his voice is softens a little, “I’ve missed you, and I want you, but if this is too much right now or if I’m hurting you, tell me now,”

Another night his words might have caused you stress, might have filled you with feelings of grief or shame, but not tonight. Something deep inside you knows, every tiny sign your body has given you over the last week to tell you that this is it. And where you were so focused on the end result for so long, tonight all you can think about is his cock filling you to the brim.

He holds your gaze, and he waits, but he sighs with relief when you nod, “Take me,”

“That’s our girl,” Yunho kisses your shoulder.

Seonghwa folds you open, your knees back so far they’re touching the mattress and he bites his lip as he looks over your glistening folds, “Darling,” he says, his voice shifting back, “tell me what you want,”

You’re trembling now, the ground you’re on feeling uncertain, unfamiliar, and you look to Yunho.

He smiles at you warmly, cupping your cheek, “Why do you look so shy, baby?”

“I don’t know,” You manage, “this is new,”

He shifts closer, his skin pressing along yours, “Maybe I can help,”

You nod, and he cranes forward to kiss you. He presses your mouth open, tongue flicking along yours, and when you feel a soft press against your clit you whine. Yunho breaks away from our mouth and nods with his forehead against yours, “Our pretty girl wants a baby, but she’s too shy to ask, my love,”

“Is that what she wants?” Seonghwa asks, feigning disbelief with a wry smile on his lips.

“Don’t make her wait,” Yunho says softly.

Seonghwa shifts forwards, and then you feel him, the sudden push of his hard cock stretching you open, dipping so deep inside you in this position that you shudder under him.

“Come on,” Seonghwa sinks fully down so that your hips are pressed together, “beg,”

That voice you know well, and you respond perfectly like a reflex, “Please, sir, please,”

“Please sir, what?” He grinds down and you groan.

“Please sir, get me pregnant,” You finally get the words out, and when you finally do Seonghwa’s hands tighten on your hips.

“Fuck,” He breathes, “again,”

With your eyes locked on his, everything else falls away. Nothing exists now but the feeling of him buried inside you, the desperate wanting in his eyes, and Yunho’s warm hand stretched over your stomach. All of a sudden it all feels like it should. The words come easily now, “Seonghwa,” you reach for him and rest your hand along his cheek, “get me pregnant,”

You see the moment in his eyes he loses all sense of control, the idea of tonight clouding his thoughts so thoroughly that all he can do is focus on fucking you. He drops down over you fully, his head buried in your neck and his lips on your shoulder. He lets the rest of his body drop too, his hands slipping down to the mattress, but the weight of him on top of you and your bent position just pushes you into a deeper press, driving his cock in more and more.

Yunho’s hand is still warmly over your stomach, trapped between you now as Seonghwa’s body pins it down and you feel his fingers flex.

Seonghwa kisses your shoulder, your neck, choking with need and pulsing inside you, “Our baby wants a baby?”

Your muscles clench around his cock in response and he groans.

He rolls his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your wet core and he makes a soft, needy sound against your throat, “Oh you do, don’t you? My perfect girl,”

His hips start up again and you moan, your head dropping to the side fully to let Seonghwa suck on your pulse points. As your eyes flutter open and meet Yunho’s, you realize he’s slid a little closer.

“Our husband,” Yunho says, “is going to give you what you want,” He presses down with his hand over your lower abdomen and you whine at the sensation, “right here, sweetheart,”

“Oh fuck,” You jerk beneath Seonghwa, but in the position you can’t really move.

Seonghwa pumps his hips faster, his hot breath on your ear, “Tell me you want it,”

You’re losing yourself to the sensation now, and you nod, frantic, “I want it,”

“Tell me you need it,” Seonghwa groans.

“I need it,” You whine, “please, god, please,”

“I’ll fuck a baby into you,” Seonghwa bites down on your shoulder, “you’ll take it,”

Hot need and waves of pleasure ripple through you, warm heat flooding up your spine and spreading a blush over your chest and cheeks. All you can think about is how you will, how you have to. With a choked moan you grip down on his shoulders, “Yes, fuck,”

“Fill her up, baby,” Yunho’s voice is low and husky, and you know he’s probably hard and ready all over again.

“Yes, yes,” Seonghwa pants, shifting above you fast and pressing his lips to yours.

You moan into the kiss, now nothing but hot panting between you and Seonghwa’s slick forehead pressing against yours. He’s so close, you can feel it, and so are you - your walls pulsing around him with every hard thrust. You grip down on his shoulders and nod against him, “F-fill me up, Hwa, please come inside me,”

He shudders, groaning and with one hard snap of his hips he thrusts in as deeply as your body will allow a sudden warm rush pooling in your belly. He grinds his hips into you as he comes, his fingers tight on your soft skin, and the sudden sharp spark of pleasure that rushes to your core tips you right over the edge into your own orgasm.

“Oh, god,” You whine, your head falling back as you let it wash over you.

“Perfect,” Yunho sighs next to you, his fingers soft on your scalp, “take it all, sweetheart,”

“Fuck,” Seonghwa pants against your throat, “I can feel you,”

The rolling wave of your release crests and recedes, and as your mind starts to clear all you can feel is their skin on yours and your mind thrums, echoes of their words inside you, the promise of this time leaving you boneless and sated.

Seonghwa’s shaking as he recovers from his own orgasm, still slick with sweat and breathing heavily against you. When he finally pushes up and off you, your body starts to uncurl from its bent position and you hiss at the sudden ache through your hips.

“Hey,” Seonghwa soothes, slowing down his movements immediately so he can find your eyes, “did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, “No, no, I’m okay,”

“Yunho,” Seonghwa looks up and smiles when he sees his husband already grabbing the foam pillow from the end of the bed, “perfect,”

Yunho tucks it under your lower back, and with slow movements Seonghwa drops you down on the pillow and comes to your side. Yunho starts to softly massage your aching muscles and looks down at you, “This okay?”

“Mhm,” You sigh, smiling at him.

Seonghwa’s hands drop to your opposite hip and thigh and he starts to work his hands in time with Yunho before he says, “I know the doctor said this is kind of an old wives tale,” referring to the elevation of your hips, “but it can’t hurt,”

“Yeah,” You agree, “and it feels nice,”

“Good,” Seonghwa murmurs, smoothing a hand over your hip, “just relax,”

You almost forgot how much you love the way they care for you after an intense scene or even just a rougher moment in bed. Your sex life with them had changed so much over the past year to be so focused on the mere idea of conception, and your body has been so full of stress and anxiety. Formal scenes or even just passionate sex had fallen by the wayside, and tears bubble up inside you at the realization, a sudden overwhelming emotional current taking you in.

“Baby, what, what’s wrong?” Yunho registers the change in your demeanor easily and cups your cheek.

“Nothing,” You sigh before sniffing back the tears and smiling, “honestly, I just missed you both so fucking much,”

Yunho grins, dropping to your side so he can once again lay lengthwise next to you, and kisses you soundly, “Yeah?”

“Mm,” You murmur against his mouth, “let’s not let ourselves get that lost again, okay?”

Yunho nods, his thumb sweeping over your cheekbone.

Seonghwa’s hand shifts forward over your skin and settles over your belly, softly stroking your skin here as he eases down on your opposite side. Yunho looks down, smiling at the sight before dropping his own hand over Seonghwa’s, their fingers slotting together over your warm belly.

“I’m not pregnant yet,” You joke softly.

“Mm, I don’t care,” Seonghwa sighs hot against your shoulder, his eyes glued to your body, “I can’t stop thinking about it,”

You’re quiet for a moment, breathing slow and relaxed and letting the weight of their hands soak into you. Your hips are starting to lose their little aches now that you’re uncurled, and you nearly drift into sleep. You stay connected loosely to consciousness when you feel Seonghwa kissing your shoulder, curling closer to your body so he can stroke a line up from your stomach to your chest, his fingers deliberately soft and gentle.

“You know,” He murmurs, nipping at your skin, “I think to make sure this time it takes, I might just have to keep you in this bed for a few days,”

“Oh yeah?” Your eyes pop open and you look down at him.

“I think I should keep you nice and full of my cum,” His voice is husky and hungry again already, “and keep you right here until we’re sure,”

“Fuck,” You curse softly.

Yunho’s hand tightens over your belly and you look to him, his lips parted and his cock standing hard again, the tip already red and leaking beads of precum.

“Will you do that for us, darling?” Seonghwa shifts, kissing up the smooth column of your throat, “Will you be good and take my cum until you can’t take any more?”

“My god, yes,” You whine, your body coming alive again.

Yunho’s hips jerk on the bed beside you, his cock connecting with your thigh and he groans, wrapping a hand around his shaft to get a little relief.

“Hwa,” You cup his cheek, bringing his face up to yours, “I’ll do whatever you want, you can have me anyway you want, but look,”

Hwa’s eyes flick past your shoulder and catches sight of Yunho working his aching cock.

“Yunho’s been so patient,” You murmur, “let’s help him come,”

“So generous,” Seonghwa teases you, kissing you firmly before shifting over you and running his hand along Yunho’s chest.

“Mm, no, it’s okay,” Yunho sighs, “keep taking care of her, I’m good,”

“Baby,” Seonghwa shakes his head, “stop, just tell me where you want to come,”

He hesitates, but only for a moment before he says, “Your mouth,”

Seonghwa grins, his hands leaving you as he starts to reposition on the bed.

You slide back a little to give them room, but Yunho’s hand closes around your wrist to stop you. “Where are you going?” He smiles.

“You want Hwa,”

“When have I ever not wanted you too, pretty girl?” He squeezes his hand, tugging you a little closer by your wrist but not hard enough to hurt.

“Where do you want me?”

“Right here,” Yunho smiles as he pulls you forward again, tapping his chin with his free hand, “I want to taste you both,”

Your stomach flips at his words and you let him draw you forward, settling your body over him and bracing his hands on your hips. You brush his hair away from his forehead, carding your fingers through his dark curls and smile down at him, “Is this what you want?”

His hands shift to your ass and he pulls you down a little further, “Get down here already,”

You fall forward a little and brace yourself on the mattress above him, “Baby!”

“I’m not going to ask nicely again,” His teeth gently drag along your inner thigh and his fingers flex hard when he feels you jump in response.

“God, you’re bossy today,” You tease him, but you love every second of it, so you drop a little lower and sigh when you feel his tongue part your folds.

“Yunho?” Seonghwa’s voice comes from your side.

“Hmm?” Yunho hums as he starts to gently roll his tongue over your clit, his eyes closed as he focuses on your pleasure.

“Can I take care of you?”

Yunho nods, and you feel his body shift around under you, relaxing with his legs open so Seonghwa can easily slot between them. You know the moment Seonghwa stops teasing Yunho and sinks his mouth down over his cock, Yunho grips you hard with his fingers and moans into your heat, his tongue stalling out as he lives inside his own pleasure for a few moments more.

“Yunho,” You whine, rocking your hips just a little.

His eyes flash open up at you and you can tell his smiling from the way his eyes crinkle up, “Needy,”

“Mhm,” You sink your hand into his hair, rolling your hips again.

Yunho’s voice catches and you hear the wet sound of Seongha’s mouth behind you, but Yunho holds his attention on you, “Stay still,”

“Make me,”

His eyes harden, and he doesn’t hesitate to push you up away from his face so he can better address his husband, “Hwa, a little help?”

You hear Seonghwa take a sharp inhale and he lightly clears his throat, “What do you need?”

Yunho smiles, and then reaches around you, trapping your hands together and wrenching you backwards a bit so that you have to arch your back to keep the position comfortable, “Do something with her, she’s being a brat,”

Your eyes nearly roll back in your head and Seonghwa laughs. You hear him shuffle around you behind you for a moment, and then fabric closes around your wrists to bind them together. He taps your arm to prompt you, and Yunho’s hands leave you as you pull on the cloth restraint, testing its tightness so that Seonghwa can see your mobility and ensure the binds aren’t too tight.

“You want a lesson, baby?” Seonghwa laughs again, his edge back again now that he knows what Yunho and you both want.

“Yes, sir,” You nod frantically.

Yunho’s hands return to your hips, settling you over his mouth again, and without hesitation Seonghwa tugs softly on the fabric lead that controls your wrists and your stability over Yunho. Seonghwa settles down between Yunho’s legs again, gently pulling on the lead again so that you have to arch further, your arms stretching out behind you a little painfully. He hums, content when he says, “Everytime you move, I’ll pull. If you stop counting for Yunho, I’ll pull. If you don’t beg when we ask, I’ll pull. Hell,” He tugs gently again and you hiss at the sensation, “if I feel like it, I’ll pull.”

“Yes, sir,” You pant.

“Good,” He says, and Yunho groans into your thigh so you know Seonghwa must be teasing him too, “now be a good slut and come on his face,”

“Ah, fuck,” You choke, Yunho’s mouth attaching to your clit again as he sucks hard, almost painfully so.

“Color,” Seonghwa says, his voice crisp and clean.

“Green, sir,” You confirm with a nod, and you interlace your fingers to ground yourself a little.

“Good girl,”

You hear the wet sound of Seonghwa’s mouth on Yunho’s prone cock again, feel the vibration from him groaning between your thighs, and you fight the urge to work your hips fast against him. Painful pleasure shoots up your spine as Yunho devours you, no longer tender but all his attention aimed on making you fall apart fast and hard.

You almost forget that you’re supposed to count and what that means for you, so when Yunho’s hand cracks down over your ass cheek you sputter and jerk. Seonghwa tugs the lead and you remember yourself, “One!”

The lead stays steady.

Yunho drags his tongue through your folds, pressing it up inside you and you shudder knowing he’s tasting his husband’s release, making a mess of himself between your legs.

His hand descends again and you stay still this time, “Two,”

Once more. “Three!”

The sting from the next three spanks has tears gathering in your eyes but you manage to stay put and count perfectly on each. When Yunho’s opposite hand shifts up from your thigh to your waist to hold you steady, you know everything’s about to get much more intense. You’re completely unprepared for the sting this time, it’s been so long since your last session like this, and the sound that breaks out of your lips is raw. You jerk your hips and Yunho sucks your clit again harshly, the bubble of sharp, hot pleasure running up your chest.

You move, and you forget to count, and Seonghwa tugs, wrapping the lead around his hand to shorten it. You rock backwards, and Yunho’s broad hand on your waist steadies you just enough so that you can regain your bearings, but now the position is stretched and taut. Your arms are stretched long behind you, your back arching to accommodate the position, and your thighs start to burn from the effort of holding you steady.

“Six!” You choke out, but you realize your mistake fast. Seonghwa tugs again and you whine, “Please, please, I’m sorry, seven!”

The lead relaxes the exact amount he had just taken up and you almost sob in relief.

Seonghwa says nothing, normally he would be goading you or verbally directing you, they both would. This time they keep quiet and let you figure things out for yourself, Seonghwa’s mouth too busy working over Yunho’s cock. You make it to ten spanks before they give you any more relief, and you suspect it’s because Yunho himself is close to coming.

Seonghwa chokes behind you, Yunho twitches beneath you, and with one shuddering moan you know he’s spilling himself down Seonghwa’s throat. His mouth only stills for a moment, but the moment his head clears he redoubles his efforts and he pulls your hips closer, burying his face into your wet cunt with fervor, your clit rocking steadily over his nose as he fucks you with his tongue.

Seonghwa drops the lead, and the change in balance has you falter for just a moment, but Seonghwa’s hand connects between your shoulder blades and he keeps you steady.

“Can’t you come?” His voice is hoarse.

“I’m close,” You pant, still fighting the urge to participate like they know you want.

Seonghwa settles behind you, reaching around to tweak a nipple between his fingers, “Then show us,”

You whine softly, your head dropping back onto his shoulder, your orgasm rushing towards you but still just out of reach.

Yunho shifts his hands, one splaying wide over your abdomen and the other gripping your hip. Seonghwa’s voice is low when he breathes against your ear, “Show us what a good slut you are, fuck his face,”

You crumble, his words all the permission you need and you blink your eyes open and look down to Yunho. With an experimental roll you find exactly where everything feels best and then sink into your rhythm. Yunho moans into you, pressing up with his tongue and guiding your hips with his hand.

“Does that feel good, jagiya?” Seonghwa nips at your ear.

“I’m,” You shudder, “I need to come,”

“No one’s stopping you,” Seonghwa squeezes you.

You’re tired, exhausted from the tough position that they held you in, your thighs shaking as you hold yourself up and keep moving, but you need it now, so close on the razorwire of pleasure that you know you can’t stop. Blush heats your cheeks, tears bubble up, and the knot of release inside you tightens further still.

“Please, please,” You beg, and their hands grip you harder.

Yunho repositions his mouth, adding the rough pad of his tongue to the sensations you’re riding and it all comes apart. You moan and squirm, body twitching and rolling as you unravel into your release, and Seonghwa’s murmuring praises in your ear but all you can barely make sense of the words. Yunho’s tongue flicking across your clit shifts suddenly from pleasurable to painfully overstimulated and you jerk your hips back, leaning further into Seonghwa’s embrace.

“Shh, shh,” He soothes you, tugging smoothly at the binds around your wrists so that you can release your arms, “settle down, baby, we got you,”

You’re breathing heavily, shaky and weary, and with slow movements, Seonghwa lifts you off of Yunho and eases you down onto the bed. You’re suddenly warm, wrapped up between them and covered in blankets and Yunho’s fingertips on your jaw ease your eyes open.

“Sweetheart,” He murmurs, “talk to us a minute,”

“I’m good,” You sigh, a lazy, satisfied smile on your lips as you snuggle into them, “tired,”

“You know you’re our beautiful girl, right?” Seonghwa spoons you, nuzzling into your shoulder and kissing your skin softly, “You know we love you?”

Anytime they touch you like that, talk to you like that, or control you like that, it always ends this way. Seonghwa’s soft and kind assurances that despite the names or the degrees of punishment, you’re theirs and you’re loved. No matter how many times you play this way, they never let you forget that.

“Mhm,” You nod sleepily, “I love you too,”

“Are you hurting at all?” Yunho checks as you drop your forehead to his chest and let your eyes drift closed again.

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head.

“Should we let you sleep, pretty girl?” Seonghwa chuckles.

All you can do is nod. You fall asleep to soft kisses, gentle stroking touches, and warm arms around you. You fall asleep more sated than you’ve been in months, and they drop into sleep right behind you. You sink into each other in the center of the wide mattress and you rest.

In the morning you wake up tangled together, a mass of limbs and sleepy sighs. Seonghwa has clearly been awake a little longer than you, and he massages your skin, peppering kisses over your shoulders and back. Yunho snores softly and adjusts next to you.

Seonghwa shifts behind you, slipping his hand between you and Yunho, and he kisses the hollow of your ear softly.

“One more time,” He says, his voice low as he rolls you towards him, “please,”

You nod, leaving your body pliant, letting him move you where he wants you. With ease he pushes you onto your side, and he slides behind your back between you and Yunho. He pushes up your leg to open up to him and you arch your back to position yourself a little better to take him again.

His fingers slip through your folds, testing your wetness and finding you need a little stimulation before he can take you the way he wants. He wets two fingers in his mouth and then slides them over your clit, still a little swollen and sensitive from the night before. With slow, gentle circles he gets your body responding.

“There we go,” He murmurs, “you want me too, don’t you?”

He sounds hoarse and a little desperate and you nod again, your fingers gripping down on the sheets as a rolling rush of pleasure echoes up your body. He wets his fingers again, rocking them over your clit and dipping them inside again and again until you’re trembling and dripping for him, and then he repositions. In one smooth stroke he thrusts inside, and then he stills, gathering you close to his chest with a shaky sigh, his hand slipping over your stomach once more.

“Hwa,” You murmur, your voice incredibly small.

“Right here,” He murmurs, caressing your skin and kissing your temple, “god, you’ll be so beautiful for me, jagiya,”

The purpose of the night comes back to you in a rush. You sigh and groan softly, “All for you.” You push your hips back into his.

He thrusts slowly this time, taking his time with you and savoring the pulsing wet feeling around him, “I’ll come right here,”

You moan softly under him.

“I’ll make you ours forever,” He pants, his hips moving a little faster.

“Hwa,” You sigh, “please, please get me pregnant,”

His breath catches, and his hand slides lower to cup your abdomen, “You could be already,”

His words make your muscles twitch and clench around him and he sighs against your skin. You push back with your hips again, “Let’s make sure, don’t stop,”

He shakes his head against yours, holding you to him as he thrusts, his fingers tightening when he gets closer and closer.

“Please,” You murmur softly, “Don’t stop,”

He spills himself inside you with a quiet moan, holding himself still and deep as he comes down from his hard release, and without saying a word he slips his hand between your legs to gently work you up to your own orgasm. He stays inside you all the while despite his softening cock, not wanting to risk losing a single drop, and it takes time before he feels comfortable enough to pull out.

The bed shifts behind you both, and gentle hands tuck you both in. You listen to the sound of your other husband making breakfast in the kitchen. Something feels like it’s shifted, both new and familiar. With your eyes closed you listen. Seonghwa’s steady breath, the clicking of dishes, the movement of the city outside on a bright spring morning.

Soft music starts to play from the other room. Yunho hasn’t started his day with music in a long time, and you used to love waking up to the sound and his easy energy as he drew you both out of bed and into your mornings. You forgot it, easily eaten away by stress and worry and doubt. You let yourself listen a little longer, quietly willing this time to be the time, and though you’ve made the same silent plea before, this time everything feels different, feels possible.

A month later, the news brings you all to tears - elation mixing with new anxieties tangled up with joy and relief, such easy and sudden relief. You’ll need a bigger apartment, another room or maybe two. The shopping list you never let yourself make before comes easily now, and the hopes that you all kept quiet from each other spill out in a dizzy, excited rush. It’s not so hard to look forward now, so together, always together, you do. 💌 taglist - @x0cherrytattoo0x @just-here-to-read-01 @simeonswhore @rielleluvs @ourbabies-bts @mingkiyoo @belletiny @moonseonghwa @jwying @treasure-jackpot @thirstiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @seonghwaxtoothless @matzstars @lenireads @parkthothwa8 @halotopicecream @s10an @8tinytings @kiwibaekie @sunasleftball @tannie13 @camilacastro @phoenix-karma @atinymonbebestay @kpopslittles1ut @lucentchan @seobtak @billboard-singer @jlm92 @side-angel @createyour0wnworld @mywooyo @halesandy @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @sophxom @lydiairl @seokjins-condoms @yoongimingyuchan @y2keigo @kpoplover718 @heart-coiored @blckbianxious @oippang @atinytease @minkysmilk @becauseiloveyunho @asjkdk @stranger-thighs @kpoplover-19 @annaflwrs @nina-at-any-time @bloomingsann @rielleluvs @jjongguromi @asjkdk @nabis-dreamscape-world @twancingyunhao @riot-hellion @pyxieyxie @namsloverr @mixling-blog @kodzukein @hyukssunflower @yousaybieberisaybiersack @ateezreactionsandscenarios @plutoneu @17caratcakes @idjitscentral @daekcottoncos @sohnkiss @narrylilomylove @lilramennoodle @noonaishere @savluvschan @mingi-banana @miransfw @ayoo-bangtan @eve217 @blglmgk01 @miriamxsworld @kirooz

#yunho #seonghwa #yunhwa #yunhwa husbands #yunho x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunhwa x reader #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez series #yunho smut #yunho fic #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fic #honeyhotteoks fics #ateez

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

Text

SIREN'S SONG

Chapter 11: Rocketman

Paring: Rooster x OC Captain Harper Ann "Siren" Mitchell-Bradshaw

A/N: This chapter was inspired by the Elton John Classic "Rocketman" also special shout out to @marvelsvalhalla for listening to my ideas and helping me come up with the chapter title!

Warnings: Mentions of Ejection, injuries, cursing, drinking, self esteem issues, body insecurities. Jake "Hangman" Seresin... yes Hangman gets his own warning. 18+ Minors DNI

Babes I apologize in advance for this because it is going to hurt

0400 hours came early in the Bradshaw house hold that faithful morning. Harper rolled over as her husband left the bed to get in the shower. "Just a few more minutes please" She called out sleep thick in her voice. "Shhh baby go back to sleep." Rooster whispered kissing her head. "How can I sleep knowing you are leaving me?" Harper pouted. It was true, Bradley, her father and a few other members of the Dagger Squad had been called in for a quick mission. It was supposed to be three days max... get in get out, nothing serious, but there wouldnt be any contact for those three days. Harper protested when she was not chosen, but she knew now that she and Bradley were married there was a slim chance they would be sent out together. So here she sat in bed watching her husband get ready. She wanted to drive him to base, but she had been sick the past few days so Rooster told her no.

She got up and walked her husband to the door. He slipped his ring off and put it on Harper's dog tags. "Hold on to this for me. I will be back for it in three days... keep it safe." Rooster told her. He kissed his wife deeply and much to his chagrin, he left her on the front porch of their home. "I promise I will be back Harper Ann! I love you Mrs. Bradshaw!" He called before leaving the driveway. "I love you too Mr. Bradshaw" She called after him.

An hour later Penny was on her doorstep. Amelia was back in college and with Maverick gone, she couldn't bear the empty house, so the two women agreed to have a sleepover with each other until their husband's arrived. Penny had brought breakfast sandwiches from their local diner. Harper sat down ready to dig in when a wave of naeusa hit her.

She ran to the bathroom and puked her guts out. After that episode, she went to brush her teeth. As she went to grab a new tube of toothpaste Harper noticed an unopened box of tampons. Gears turned in her head. When was the last time she had a period? Could she be? She and Rooster hadn't exactly been trying to get pregnant, but they hadn't exactly been trying to prevent it either.

Harper dug through the medicine cabinet. She knew she had a couple leftover pregnancy tests from the time Phoenix came over when she was late. Harper found the box and quickly torr it open and read the directions. Five minutes later, there were four positive pregnancy tests in front of the woman. "Oh. My. God" she said to herself. "Penny! Harper yelled. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Yeah honey, everything oh..." Penny stopped short as she saw her daughter on the bathroom floor with the tests.

"I think I'm pregnant. Can you take me to the infirmary to make sure?" Harper whispered looking at her mother. "Let me get my things.. meet you in the car." Penny said not missing a beat and jumping into action.

Harper tapped her foot impatiently in the waiting room of the base infirmary. Penny squeezed her hand

"Captain Mitchell-Bradshaw?" A nurse called out. She and Penny practically jumped out of their seats. Harper explained to the nurse that she thought she might be pregnant but wanted a blood test to be sure. And after the blood test came back positive she begged for an ultrasound to be extra sure, and being the Admirals daughter, they didn't tell her no. Penny held her had the first time Harper saw Baby Bradshaw on the monitor. She was about 10 weeks which meant that this baby was Rooster birthday present that kept on giving.

A few hours later the women left base and headed back to Harper's house. "I can't wait for Bradley and dad to get back P, they are going to be so excited" Harper squealed holding her ultra sound pictures.

Over the next three days she and Penny talked about nursery themes and baby names. Harper and Bradley had spoken about children before and they had agreed on naming their kids after their parents, so if baby B was a boy, he would be Nicholas Peter Bradshaw and if baby B was a girl, Caroline Penelope Bradshaw. Penny cried over the fact that Harper thought enough of her to potentially name her child after her. The ladies were all smiles when they got word that the ship had docked and everyone would be home soon. Harper was in the kitchen when they heard a knock on the door. Penny went to answer it.

"Pete! You're home welcome back" She cried hugging her husband. "Is Bradley not with you?" She asked looking around him. That's when she was her husband's face and she knew something was wrong. "Wh... wh... where is Harper?" Maverick stammered.

"Dad! Oh I'm so glad you're back I have something exciting..." Harper stopped short "Dad, where's Rooster? Is he not with you? Is he running late" Harper said as panic set in. "Harper, honey, I think you should sit down Doll." Maverick said gesturing to the couch. "No, no, don't pull that shit with me dad.... where is my husband?" Harper said forcefully.

"Harper, there was an accident... Rooster... he... he's missing, but they are doing everything to find him, but we had to come back. I tried to go but they wouldn't let me." Maverick explained with tears in his eyes.

"What do you mean he is missing? How. How does a plane and a person go missing, you said this was a quick mission. Routine, in and out, not dangerous, nothing to worry about. And now you are telling me my husband is missing!" Harper screamed tears heavy in her eyes and rage in her voice. " You told me not to worry! You said everything would be okay! You promised me Maverick!" Harper shouted at her father. "Honey please calm down" he begged "Don't tell me what to do. How could you? How could you do this to him, to me. And you just left him. His plane gets shot down and you just left him. He didn't leave you 5 years ago!" She continued to rage "Harper I wasn't flying!" Maverick shouted back.

"Please calm down Harper, this stress isn't good for the baby!" Penny pleaded with her "Baby?" Maverick asked "Yeah, baby I'm pregnant congrats grandpa Asshole" Harper shot at her father. Maverick tried to hug his daughter to calm her down. She was shaking as sobs and anger wracked her body "Don't fucking touch me!" She shrieked trying to escape his embrace. "This is all your fault!" Harper screamed punching her father's chest. "You promised me he would be okay! You promised you would bring him back. I thought I could never be as mad as they day I found out you pulled his papers, but I was wrong. Hell I might be madder!" Harper raged as she hit her father. "This is all your fault. I hate you Maverick! I hate you! I hate you!"Harper sobbed as she sunk to the floor. Her words becoming unclear as she sobbed heavily.

Maverick didn't know what to do. As he held his daughter he felt like a kid again holding Carole when she found out Goose died. Maverick had spent his whole life trying to make up for that tragic day, but yet here he was holding another Bradshaw woman he carried about telling her that her child's father was gone.

Roosters head was pounding. He gingerly lifted his body from the forest floor. He did a once over of himself and determined nothing was broken but he probably had a concussion. His com was toast his plane was smashed to shit. He flipped open his tracker and sent a signal hoping the navy could find him. He took stock of his surroundings and determined he needed to make a camp. He knew they Navy would have an idea of where he was, so he determined it would be best not to leave the area. He sat down at the base of a tree and pulled his photo of Harper out of his pocket. "I promise I will be home baby" Rooster said talking to it

"Where are the others?" Harper asked her father when she was able to form a coherent sentence." On base.. they..." Harper cut him off "Take me to them... now." It wasn't a question. The father and daughter drove to base in silence. When they arrived Phoenix was the first person they saw "Were you his wingman?" Harper demanded of the woman. "No, no we were back on the carrier." Phoenix told her caught off guard by the tone of Harper's voice. "Who was?" Harper demanded. "H...h... hangman..." Phoenix stammered out. "Where is he?" Harper asked darkly. "Breifing room... but Si" Phoenix didn't get to finish before Harper pushed past her fuming. Phoenix ran after her calling her name, but Harper was a woman on a mission.

"SERESIN YOU MOTHER FUCKER!" Harper screamed entering the briefing room. Before he or anyone else could respond, Harper slapped him across the face... hard. When she pulled back the angry red print of her had was there on his stupid perfect Ken doll cheek. "Si, what the fuck" Jake said stunned. "How could you. How could you leave him" She screamed at Hangman. "I didn't leave him. He... he" Jake stammered not knowing how to speak to the raging woman infront of him. "Yes you did! You were his wingman! He trusted you! I trusted you! But I guess old habits die hard don't they HANGMAN" Harper screamed in his face. "Listen Siren I get it, we are all upset about Rooster being missing but you need to calm the fuck down!" Hangman shouted back at her still holding his cheek.

"Don't you dare tell me to fucking calm down asshole. You have no right. Got I could fucking kill you right now. I hate you so much Jake Seresin because YOU are the reason my child is going to have to grow up without a father you son of a bitch!" Harper screamed pointing her finger in Hangman's face as she breathed heavily. The entire room went silent. Jake stood there looking at Harper with a blank expression and his eyes wide. "You're... you're pregnant?" He whispered. Afraid if he spoke any louder he might shatter. "Does... does Rooster know?" He asked.

Harper couldn't do it anymore. She collapsed to the floor sobbing. Hangman caught her before she hit the ground. "No... no he doesn't know. I found out the day you left." She choked out between sobs. Hearing that, Hangman, the cocky, egotistical, full of himself pilot lost it too. He pulled Harper closer to his chest and sobbed with her.

The rest of the squad looked at each other unaware of what to do. Bob was the first to leave his spot and join Hangman and Harper with tears in his eyes. Phoenix and Fanboy followed, then Payback and Coyote. One by one the members of the Dagger Squad joined in on the group hug in the floor.

They were supposed to be the best of the best. The top 1%. The strongest. They didn't show weakness. But there in the floor of that navy briefing room, none of them had ever felt more powerless.

Hangman collected himself and looked at the woman again his chest. Harper was still sobbing. She was holding her stomach with one hand and her tags will Roosters wedding ring in the other. He knew that everything Harper had said was true. He was the reason Rooster was missing Rooster had saved him because he felt like he owed him his life. Jake pulled himself together and made Harper, Maverick, Goose, Carole, and Baby Bradshaw a silence promise that no matter what, he would bring Rooster home.

Babes. Im sorry

Tag List: @marvelsvalhalla @shanimallina87 @tallrock35 @aless-megs

#top gun #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster smut #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago

Note

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

#ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell #england national team imagine #chelsea imagine #footie fic #football fic #footballer fic

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years ago

Text

Clueless ~ KTH [Request]

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

PAIRING: Taehyung x Reader

GENRE: fluffy, mild angst, reading being called clingy, fluffy ending

A.N: I hope that this is okay, I went with an imagine so that it didn’t all end up the same way and it wasn’t repetitive

After months of trying and trying for a baby, it was finally happening. You were pregnant and far along enough to tell your fiancéand his friends. The boys all knew before Taehyung because you wanted to make it a surprise for him. Deciding it would be more fun that way for him to find out after and the boys could help you throw a small party.

The plan was to tell him when you were both home alone, five minutes before the boys were supposed to be coming around but he was acting strange. Taehyung had seemed so annoyed at something all day and he wasn't telling you what was wrong. You just figured he'd woken up in a bad mood and would finally get out of it later in the day.

"Tae?" You asked sweetly, walking into the living to find him watching something on the TV. His gaze staring at the screen as though he hadn't even heard you walk into the room. Clutching down on the box you took in a deep breath, walking over to him with a huge smile on your face. It had been one of the hardest things to hide from Taehyung and now it was finally time to show him.

"Hi baby," You whispered in his ear, hoping that he would have brightened up a little but he just grumbled something and continued to stare at the screen. Some random historical drama was playing and you sighed a little.

"I got you something..." You put the box onto his lap, inside was one of the cutest ways you could think of to tell him about your pregnancy.

"Not now," He grumbled pushing the box to the side as he continued to stare at the screen.

"It's important though Tae, I want you to see it." You breathed out excitedly, still too happy to be annoyed by his mood but he stood up in a rush.

"For fuck sake! Why are you being more clingy than usual lately? Huh?" You stared up at him in shock that he called you clingy. There was clearly something bothering him that he wasn't telling you about,

"I didn't realise-"

"You're so fucking annoying sometimes. I just want some time to myself! Is that too much to ask for?" You got up from the sofa, brushing off the dress you were wearing and nodded over and over again. Forgetting for a moment that at any second the rest of his members were going to come through the door.

"Tae-" You barely had time to say his name before the door burst open.

"Y/N!" Jungkook practically screamed as he took you into his arms, smiling and hugging you tightly.

"How's my growing bean?!" He yelled out referring to the small baby growing inside of you. As you went to shake your head everyone began to congratulate Taehyung. Maybe this plan wasn't as well thought out as you thought it was.

"Hyung, I bet you're so happy." Jungkook breathed out as he walked over towards Taehyung who looked just as confused as ever. Namjoon handed you a gift bag with a giant smile on his face,

"We all got you a little something, you can't say no to it." You sighed at him shaking your head. They had agreed to not buying you anything for the baby since you didn't know the gender yet.

"Jin, don't-"

"We have to congratulate you properly," Jin said as he walked into the house with a cake in his hands. Decorated in pink and blue icing with two candles on top, it was starting to make you feel emotional that they had gone to all of this effort. The extra hormones running around inside of you were bringing you to the brink of tears.

"What's going on?" Taehyung questioned as he finally realised that the boys were clearly congratulating him for a reason. Jimin stared at you and then to the unopened box beside Taehyung and he put two and two together to realise what was going on.

"He doesn't know?" You shook your head in an answer to Jimin's question. Of course, he didn't know. To know he would have to pay you any kind of attention and be kind to you.

"No, I was in the middle of giving it to him when he called me clingy." Jin stared over at Taehyung in shock as he shook his head. This was something the two of you had been trying for so long, even the boys were excited about all of this.

"I've been stressed baby, I didn't mean to call you clingy...Can someone tell me what's going on?" None of you spoke you just stared at Taehyung and then down to the box. Smiling weakly as you nodded your head at it,

"Open the box baby." You told him as Jin went to go and cut the cake up for everyone. The boys all staring at Taehyung as he picked up the box carefully. Worried that he had forgotten an anniversary or a birthday but the moment he opened the box he teared up. Staring from the contents and then back up to you as he felt himself beginning to cry.

"You're really-" You nodded your head at him, smiling brightly as he threw the box down onto the ground. Rushing over to you and pulling you into his arms, face buried in your neck as he cried softly.

Yoongi chuckled picking up the shirt that had fallen from the box, "World's best dad," with an image of Taehyung on the bottom of it.

"You're really pregnant?!" He questioned pulling back to look at you as you nodded.

"Almost 4 months," You breathed out looking at him as he began to cry. Eyes dancing from your stomach to your face wondering how he hadn't even noticed anything until now.

"We're going to have a baby!" He yelled out excitedly turning to face all of the boys as he yelled it out over and over again.

"I'm going to be a father!" He mumbled looking at you again, you felt yourself beginning to tear up again as he pulled you into another embrace.

"I'm sorry I said what I said," You shook your head at him, promising him that it was completely fine.

"You've been stressed, maybe I should have told you before-"

"No. No, this is perfect. The boys all know, we can celebrate together." He smiled, holding your face in his hands before kissing you softly. Using his thumb to rub your tears away from your cheeks.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix @misa0000

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts imagine #bts imagines #taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung imagines #kim taehyung #kim taehyun x reader #kim taehyung imagine #kim taehyung imagines

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amoristt · 3 years ago

Text

Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

__________________________

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?”

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him.

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this.

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red.

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you.

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.”

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it.

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?”

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.”

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy.

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip.

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy. As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.”

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be.

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke.

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind.

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find.

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.”

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse.

-----------

In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable.

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look.

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began.

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan.

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?”

You lowered your head.

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot.

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled.

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?”

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod.

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again.

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly.

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust.

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that?

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person?

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once.

No one believed you.

---------

With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew.

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under.

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed. How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you.

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions.

No wonder he was so angry.

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call.

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.”

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing.

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.”

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.”

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it.

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again.

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy. He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right?

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger.

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying.

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos.

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh.

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up.

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?”

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot.

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.”

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.”

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm.

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #life is strange #grazing the fire #scenario #fanfic #fluff

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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 4 years ago

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Irresistible Danger - Part 57

Synopsis: After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,388

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: We’re interrupting the emotions and angst for a healthy dose of smut in this one.

A Wonderfully Well-F*cked Morning

You drifted to consciousness on a wave of pleasure, the sensations happening below your waist causing you to automatically arch your back and reach down. When your fingers came in contact with thick, soft hair at the same time that a wet tongue hit your clit, your brain finally decided to come online. Eyes opening in surprise, you looked down and found the breathtaking visual of Negan’s gorgeous face buried between your thighs.

Holy shit, what a way to start the day.

Glancing up, his mouth curled in a soul-stealing grin at the sight of you awake and watching. His “mornin’ doll” was spoken directly to your soaked cunt, the rumbled vibration of the words making you give a small moan and open your thighs wider, so he could do as he wished.

And, apparently, what he wished was to drive you absolutely mad with desire. The distant and withdrawn Negan of last night was gone, and in his place was the playful and passionate man before you. He teased with soft kisses along the crease at the top of your thigh and lazy laps of his tongue that just barely grazed where you needed them. When you tried to lift your hips in search of more friction, his large hands pinned them to the mattress.

It wasn’t long before you had a deathgrip on his hair, thighs trembling, and even the muscles in your stomach starting to quiver. And yet still he continued, the devilish gleam in his eyes when he glanced up at you while gently sucking your clit almost enough to send you over the edge, until he backed off and went back to nipping at your inner thighs instead.

You were just about to beg, plead, and promise whatever he wanted, including your soul, when a muffled knocking sound broke through the top layer of hazy desire shrouding you. Negan ignored the noise, continuing with his delicious torture so that you almost instantly forgot the sound had ever happened. But then it came again a few seconds later, this time loud and sharp...and right outside the bedroom door.

Letting go of his hair and jolting up onto your elbows, you looked down at Negan with wide eyes. He had finally lifted his head from your pussy, the sight of his lips glistening with your wetness causing a soft moan to escape that you prayed whoever was at the door didn’t hear.

“Fucking leave!” he yelled in that no-nonsense tone that both terrified and yet also made an extra trickle of wetness run down your thigh.

The voice that responded was muffled through the door, but still unmistakably Simon. “Sorry, boss, but there’s a situation that needs your urgent attention in meeting room C.”

Cursing harshly, Negan dropped his forehead to your lower stomach for a few seconds before lifting his head and yelling back, “I’ll fucking be there in 5!”

You stared in the direction of the office and listened for a few seconds until the unmistakable sound of Simon banging the door closed sounded (perhaps a bit louder than needed, as if he was letting you know that he was gone). You turned back to Negan, who now had a devious smirk on his face as he looked up at you.

Giving a doubtful expression, you said, “Only five minutes?”

“Oh, doll,” he chuckled, head ducking down so the rest was muffled against your wet flesh. “That’s plenty of time.”

It was then that you realized just how much he had been toying with you before, as his demeanor instantly changed from playful to intense, and he set to work on your cunt. He knew just where to nip and lick, and when he latched onto your clit and sucked with the perfect amount of pressure, you shot off like a rocket, coming in less than a minute from when Simon had left.

Still panting and sprawled across the mattress, you watched dazedly as he got up and went to his armoire for clothes to get dressed. He winced when tucking his erection into the boxer briefs and dark grey pants, and the bulge made your mouth water.

“What about you?” you asked with a nod in his cock’s direction.

Pulling on his boots, he then straightened and trailed desire-bright eyes over your sated form spread out on his bed. “I thought I already made that clear, doll,” he quipped.

Unsure if it was the post-orgasm haze making you so dense or if he was purposely being vague, you asked, “What’s that?”

Walking around the side of the bed fully dressed, while you lay totally naked with thighs still spread and naked chest heaving, he ran a warm, calloused hand down over your throat and the tips of your breasts before answering.

“That this relationship is about more than me getting my fucking rocks off.”

His hand moved lower, between your thighs, and he watched as if mesmerized at how you shuddered and arched into the feel of his touch on your still-sensitive flesh. “However, that being said-” he backed up a step and pointed at you with a stern look on his face, “-don’t fucking move from that bed until I get back.”

He then tucked his tongue into his cheek, gave a playful wink, and was gone. Staring up at the ceiling, you figured this was one order you’d gladly follow, seeing as how your muscles wouldn’t be able to function properly enough to help you stand, anyways. It wasn’t until a couple minutes after he was gone that you sat straight up on the bed at the remembrance of his earlier words.

He had called it a relationship!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Forty-five minutes later and you, unsurprisingly, were in fact not able to follow his order, after all. Which shouldn’t be a surprise because, well, it was you we were talking about here, and when did you ever listen?

You had tried though, really you had. After Negan left, and your breathing and heart rate had returned to normal, you sat up against the headboard to wait. Your eyes landed on a book that was open facedown on his bedside table, and the parallel to your own reading habits made you smile. Picking it up, you saw that it was some sort of psychological thriller. Making a note of what page it had been opened to, you huddled down into the plush mattress, the soft black headboard at your back, and started reading from the beginning.

However, when the black and grey wall clock near the door ticked by almost an hour that he had been gone, you put the book down and sighed in annoyance. Whatever the emergency meeting had been about, it looked as though it might take a while, and you didn’t enjoy the thought of sitting here all morning and afternoon waiting, as if at his beck and call. Your brain also unhelpfully threw out the reminder of your previous plan not to have sex with Negan until a serious conversation was had about that damned padlocked box of unanswered questions. The subconscious, exasperated with the brain pulling this bullshit so early in the morning, yelled at it to please shut the hell up.

Fuck it, you can at least freshen up a bit before he gets back, you thought while tossing off the sheet and standing from the bed. Stretching pleasantly sore muscles, you wandered over to the large armoire and tugged open one of the drawers. Smiling at how neatly the clothes inside were folded, you selected a moss green shirt and pulled it over your head. It was much baggier than his usual style, and you had never seen him wear it before, making you wonder if he ever got a chance to take off his leader armor and just sit around relaxing the day away in baggy sweats with a good book. Probably not, seeing as how he couldn’t even enjoy a perfectly delightful you-flavored breakfast without being interrupted.

Heading into the bathroom to relieve your bladder and then wash your hands and face, you looked in the large mirror. Finger-combing hair that had seen better days, you then opened up some of the drawers under the sink that you hadn’t checked yet, mostly out of nosey curiosity. Finding one at the bottom that was stocked full of extra bars of soap, toothpaste, and still-packaged toothbrushes, you let out a tiny whoop of joy. Jackpot!

Opening a green and white toothbrush, you grabbed the already opened toothpaste that was on the countertop and squeezed a dollop onto the brush. Giving a sigh of happiness at the clean, minty taste, you weren’t even worried about Negan being upset you had stolen one of his unopened brushes. Especially since you’d have fresh breath when he crawled back in the bed with you and-

That fantasy died a quick death when the reflection of the man himself stepped into view while you were mid-brush. Locking eyes with him in the mirror, you saw a flicker of something in his expression as he took you in, standing there in his shirt and brushing your teeth with his personal supplies.

“I thought I told you to be in the fucking bed when I got back,” he said, but his voice didn’t have the extra little growl that signified he was truly pissed. In fact, he almost sounded amused.

Before you could even remove the toothbrush to respond, he stepped up behind you so that his front was pressed into your back. “Nevermind, doll,” he drawled while still holding your gaze in the mirror. “This’ll work too.”

You almost choked on toothpaste from gasping at the feel of his large, rough hands running up under the hem of the shirt and over your bare hips. Quickly leaning down to spit out the paste into the sink, you turned on the water and used a cupped hand to rinse out your mouth as he continued rubbing his palms along your torso and down over the outside of your thighs. When you put the toothbrush down and straightened, his mouth immediately attacked the back of your neck, sucking and nipping lightly. His hands moved further up under the shirt to cup your breasts, and his deft fingers pinched and twisted sensitive nipples at the same time that he ground his hips against your bare ass, letting you feel the ridge of his erection through the rough fabric of the pants.

You moaned softly and pressed back into him, almost overwhelmed by how quickly he had barged in and taken control of your body’s reaction. Any thoughts of self-doubt or questions of where you stood with him temporarily flew out the window in the face of the onslaught of intense and thorough possession he was directing your way.

Unlike when you first woke up this morning, no part of him was teasing or going slow this time around. He quickly pulled the baggy shirt up over your head, and the sight of you totally bare made a groan punch from his chest.

He whipped his own shirt and pants off in a quick flurry of movement before leaning in so that his warm chest was pressed into your back as he opened one of the drawers at your hip and pulled out a condom.

Wasting no time, he opened it and rolled it down the swollen cock pressing into the small of your back. When he bent his knees to line up with your entrance, you assisted by hiking a knee up on the edge of the countertop, presenting yourself to him in a way that made him pause for a moment, as if in awe, before plunging inside you with a fierce thrust and strangled growl against the back of your neck.

You looked up and were instantly transfixed by the sight in the mirror. Negan’s tattooed, leanly muscled form towered over yours, his rough edges and possessive thrusts juxtaposed against your softer curves and arching form.

You watched his reflection as he gripped your hips and looked down between your bodies to watch himself fuck you, the sight making you moan and clench around his cock. His gaze lifted, amber eyes locking on yours in the mirror.

One of his hands left your hip, trailing hungrily around the front of your body and up over your stomach and breasts before wrapping long fingers around the front of your throat. The grip was light, but the ruthless ownership behind both it and his pumping hips made your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy.

He leaned in over you, breath coming in hot strikes against the side of your throat. “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl? Like being all. Fucking. Mine.”

The last words were each punctuated by a harsh thrust, making you cry out and open lust-filled eyes. His face was there beside your own, jaw clenched as he watched your reflection in the mirror with a fierce, almost pained expression. He let out a little snarl before turning his mouth to nip at the curve of your shoulder, and that combined with his grip at your throat and heavy, thick cock fucking you against the counter all combined to throw you into an orgasm without warning. He groaned as you shuddered and clenched in his hold, his gravel over sandpaper voice in your ear.

“Yes, milk my fucking cock.”

Coming down off the wave of pleasure, you realized that his pace hadn’t slowed down, that he hadn’t finished yet. You lowered the leg propped up on the counter, needing both feet braced against the cool, tiled floor to keep your shaky body steady.

Your gaze dropped, taking in the reflection of what was happening between your thighs. Both his cock and the inside of your thighs glistened with a coating of your release, and he felt even bigger inside of you, now that your walls were a little swollen and tender from both the friction of his cock and your recent orgasm. Right when his movements became almost too overwhelming against your oversensitized cunt, and you were about to ask for a break, he paused his thrusts and removed the hand from around your throat.

Your thought that he was granting you a reprieve was instantly proven wrong when he gave a growled warning of, “Brace your arms on the sink,” right before his forearms hooked down under both your knees and lifted your entire lower body off the ground. Since the action pushed you forward, your body had no choice but to do as he said, forearms holding the weight of your upper body against the surface of the sink while your lower half hung suspended at the perfect height for his cock.

He resumed his quick pace, fucking into you relentlessly. And, surprisingly, instead of becoming too much, the sensations pulled back from borderline painful and started to feel pleasurable again. Very pleasurable.

Your whimper caused him to give a low moan in response, and his voice came through gritted teeth. “That’s it, doll. Fucking come for me again.”

Trying to find your voice, you wanted to say that you weren’t sure if that was possible, that coming again so soon wasn’t likely. Instead, the words choked in your throat when he bent down and licked up your spine before sucking roughly on the skin of your back. He then ground his cock into you so hard that your pelvis pushed against the edge of the counter, the hard surface rubbing over your clit in exactly the right way needed to send your body spasming into a second orgasm.

You lost yourself in pleasure that had no beginning and no end, just endless heavy waves of bliss. Dimly, you heard him give a groan of completion as he gave a few sharp, hard thrusts, and then his body went still. He allowed your legs to lower to the tiled floor, and thank god for being braced on the countertop, otherwise you would’ve crumpled in a quivery heap at his feet.

You took in the reflection of both you and Negan’s sex-dazed expressions, skin flushed and dewy with sweat despite the cool bathroom. A satisfied smile curved his lips, and you watched in the mirror as he bent down and kissed the curve where your neck met shoulder, the scratch of his beard rising goosebumps to the already sensitive flesh. He hummed happily against your skin, and you wished that the two of you could stay in this intimate bubble forever. That no outside intruders or internal thoughts could stand in the way of feeling like this with him every single day.

As if he were thinking something similar, he ran a warm hand down over the curve of your hip and said in a sexy, husky voice, “Now that is a perfect fucking way to finish off the morning.”

Unable to help a dreamy smile in return, you were finally able to fully stand up from the counter without fear of your legs giving out. Turning in his hold, you twined arms up around his neck and tugged him down for a proper kiss involving lips and tongues and even a hint of teeth.

You pulled away after a few long moments, and offered, “What are your plans for today?”

Biting his lip and giving one of his signature cheeky grins, he replied, “I have to go over some new outpost security measures with Simon this afternoon. However…” his hands cupped your ass and kneaded possessively, “my evening is all fucking yours.”

Lord, but you liked the sound of that. Standing on tiptoe and placing another, softer kiss to his lips, you suggested, “How about I bring us dinner around 7:30?”

“I’ll be waiting,” he replied with one last squeeze of his hands before he stepped away to dispose of the condom and gather both your clothes off the tiles.

The men had brought back some freshly butchered deer meat from the supply run, and Ben had been excited to try making stew with both it and vegetables from the garden. Thinking of Ben was also a reminder that you had promised to hang out with him today. You were very curious to hear details about what was going on with him and Simon, not to mention needing a friend to talk through some of your own worries regarding Negan.

Pulling the baggy green shirt back on, you preceded him into the bedroom and grabbed your jeans from where they had been discarded on the floor last night. You didn’t want to return his shirt, so tucked it into the jeans to hide the obviously ill-fitting length of it before pulling on your sneakers. Turning, you found an also fully-dressed Negan watching you. His gaze took in the outfit with an expression that was difficult to decipher, but seemed somewhere between appreciative and smug at the sight of you in his shirt.

Struggling not to roll your eyes or make a comment about “males and their strange possessiveness”, you walked out of the bedroom with him following behind. Stopping at the closed office door, you turned and looked up at him, unable to resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers down over his bearded cheek. He bent and gave you one final kiss in return, then opened the door and watched you leave.

You weren’t able to contain the happy grin tipping up the corners of your mouth. Not even the sudden appearance of the brain, who was dragging the padlocked box of questions, could dim your mood. The subconscious strode happily at your side, but as the brain fell more and more behind, struggling to keep up with the heavy metal box, it turned with a sigh and went back to help.

I know. I know! We’ll have a conversation with him tonight; open up the box and air out some of those unanswered questions. But for right now, we’re going to bask in the afterglow of such a wonderfully well-fucked morning.

The brain and subconscious didn’t argue, just huffed and puffed as they worked together to finally pick the box up off the ground. Balancing the heavy weight between them, they gave each other exasperated looks, then hurried down the hall after you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

#negan #twd #negan smut #negan fanfics #negan fanfiction #irresistible danger #ash writes #the walking dead #twd negan #negan's thirst squad #negan x you #negan slow burn #slow burn #negan x reader #the walking dead negan #fanfic #fanfiction

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jae-daddy · 4 years ago

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Red Rose (5)

jaebum mafia series

one / two / three / four / five

masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: mafia, angst, romance, mature plot: im jaebum was your first love in university, but then disappeared, and now he’s back and he is a mafia leader? a/n: im so excited to write this story! i hope yall enjoy it too! not edited <3

You smiled at the dark-haired boy juggling the armful of snacks towards you. You get up, running over to him and helping him place everything onto the picnic mat.

“This is so much stuff, Jaebum,” you remarked looking at the pile of snacks heaping on the light pink blanket. Jaebum didn’t reply, instead, he reached into the bag he brought during the first run from the car and pulled out cushions and more blankets.

He set three books out for you and plopped himself onto the blanket. He lay a cushion underneath his head but kept a hand underneath his head as his other hand beckoned you towards him, “Come on babe, there are so many clouds today. I bet I can make more animals out of them than you.”

“Expand the category to anything,” you lay on his chest, crossing your ankles as you reached for one of the books he picked out for you. You opened the book, the smell of his cologne flowing through the pages, “And watch me whoop your ass as I read this book.”

Jaebum hummed tauntingly, as he brought his fingers into your hair, running through it gently.

You sighed happily, putting the book down on your stomach and gazed up at the sky. Once again you were reminded of how big this world was, how much bigger it was than your mind could comprehend. You were so small, so insignificant, but at that moment the golden sunshine fluttering in your chest was endless. In that moment, the entire universe was just this; just you and him. His heartbeat gently beating against your neck, your fingers finding their way to his.

There hand in hand, on the pink blanket, under the never-ending sky, you were endlessly happy.

“I don’t understand why we have to do this,” you heard him grumble for the hundredth time. You had let it go the first time, understandingly, but every time he repeated his resentment, every time he complained, the room became hotter. The apartment grew smaller, shrinking close around you; and this was the last straw. You couldn’t do it anymore.

You closed the last of the box from the kitchen and stared at the tall boy who made your living room look like a dollhouse.

Yugyeom looked up closing the final box, his eyes narrowing with irritation. You didn’t say anything and glared back at him.

This little brat was acting as if you were the one making him pack your apartment for you. You were helping him, and you didn’t need his help in the first place. Actually, you wouldn’t have had to move in the first place, but here you were moving out so you don’t get murdered in the middle of your sleep.

It was all Im Jaebum’s decision. Him deciding how to keep you safe, and him deciding to send this tall brat to help you pack up.

“Thank god we’re finished, anymore of your whining and I would have to murder you,” you rolled your eyes at him.

A corner of his red lips lifted as his eyes narrowed further, “You sure are violent for a waitress.”

Your eyes narrowed further at the way he said the waitress. He said it as an insult. As if was beneath him; as if being a waitress made you undeserving of his respect. And he should be respecting you, you had saved his life.

“And you whine like a child for being such a big bad criminal,” you smiled back at him.

Before he could reply, Jinyoung walked back into the apartment getting off the phone, “The movers will be here in fifteen minutes, are we done?”

“We done?” Yugyeom choked staring at Jinyoung. Yugyeom jabbed his tongue against his cheek angrily before muttering, “You didn’t do anything. I did.”

“I packed!” You protested at the same time as Jinyoung.

Yugyeom didn’t skip a beat, he pointed to Jinyoung first, “You have been gone for the past two hours making a phone call. You packed one box in total.” He then turned to you, scowling, “It’s not helping when it is your house. This is your shit-hole of a house, your shit, so you should be doing the packing anyway.”

Jinyoung just cooed, mockingly at the younger boy, “Is our little baby tired?”

“Aww,” you cooed along.

If looks could kill you and Jinyoung would be ten feet underground right now. But he didn’t say anything more and just stomped out of the apartment making you cringe. You were sure your neighbours downstairs would be cursing at the loud noise.

You turned to Jinyoung with a small smile, “Do you want a drink? I got four beers left in the freezer.”

“Why not,” he sighed, settling into the two-seater sofa, in the middle of the living room. You came back, passing him a bottle before sinking into the old sofa next to him.

“This is a really small place,” he commented talking in the apartment. It was small, it was just bigger than the hall you had breakfast in this morning. You hated the colour of the walls, but now that you were leaving you knew you were going to miss the way it clashed with every piece of furniture you ever got.

“It was good enough for me,” you replied, before taking a sip of the beer. You gasped at the old sensation burning down your throat making him turn towards you with raised eyebrows. You just smiled, gesturing to the beer, “It’s so cold and my throat feels so... raw.”

“Well, you did have an eventful past week.”

“Has it really been a week?” You both looked at the murky pink walls.

“Actually, it’s been less than a week.” He answered.

“It feels like it's been a lifetime,” you whispered.

Jinyoung stayed quiet for a few moments before saying, “It'll remain hard for a while until we solve this.”

“I know,” you sighed, taking a sip.

“It does get better though,” he took a sip before adding, “Or at least you get used to it.”

You bit your lip as a question bubbled inside you. You wanted to ask him why they did this if it was so tough. Why did they choose to be criminals when it was so dangerous, when they were getting hurt and hurting others. But you didn’t know if it was your place to ask him that.

Instead, you asked something that was probably equally as stupid, “How do you know Jaebum?”

His eyes crinkled as he chuckled at the question, shaking his head with a wide smile on his face, “JB and I go way back.”

“How back?” You turned towards him, completely interested.

They couldn’t have gone too back, because back then you knew Im Jaebum. And your Im Jaebum used to find the shapes of ducklings in the cloud, not shoot men and get blood splattered all over his suit.

You would’ve known of Jinyoung, in a story or heard his name in passing at the very least. But this was the first time you had heard of him.

Was it after his dad passed away? Was it so traumatic for Jaebum that he joined the wrong crowd?

“Nappies,” Jinyoung snorted, answering your question. “Our parents were friends, so we grew up together. He is my best friend and my boss, but he is my brother first and foremost. We always have each other's backs.”

You didn’t say anything and just stared at him, in confusion. How could he and Jaebum be so close but you never heard of him? No photo of him in his dorm, no appearance in the stories of his childhood he would tell you. It was almost as if Jinyoung had been a ghost for Jaebum in college.

You didn’t have the heart to tell Jinyoung that Jaebum didn’t mention him to you. So, you just continued to stare at him as you took him his dark features.

“All of us, us boys,” Jinyoung took a long sip of the beer. “We are all brothers, we will sacrifice ourselves before letting the other get in harm's way.”

You smiled at that, even though they were a bunch of criminals, “That’s admirable.”

“You’re part of it now,” Jinyoung looked over at you, meeting your eyes with his sparkling ones. “We protect you like one of us now.”

“Just for three months,” you breathed, feeling uncomfortable under his heavy gaze.

Jinyoung nodded slowly, after a long moment he asked, “Will you move back here after it ends?”

“No, I can’t,” you bit your lip, shrugging a shoulder. “There’s no returning policy in this apartment.”

“That’s good then,” he said, making you frown. Jinyoung shot you a loopy smile before he explained, “It’s better to move so no one knows where you live anymore.”

A shiver ran through you at his words. It wasn’t just Marco’s men who could be after you. Certainly, they weren’t the only enemies Jaebum and his mafia had, the others might come after you too if they found out.

How long does this continue? When do you get to get out of here, truly free?

“The movers are here,” Mr Grumpy walked in, taking an unopened beer from between you and Jinyoung and chugging it down, “Fuck’s sake I needed that.”

“Language!” Jinyoung gasped.

You sipped from your glass of orange juice and vodka, shimmering your shoulders as you hopped around the room. The rhythm of the happy song wrapped around you as you did a twirl trying to keep the drink from spilling.

Due to the very imminent danger that currently resided over you, you had three weeks off work. A whole month of no working, of no diner, of doing absolutely nothing. Therefore, like every other sane person on basically house arrest, you got tired of spending day after day in your room.

In the past three days, you barely saw anyone. The last time you had seen anyone was Jackson who had come to inform you that you would not be going to work due to security issues. When you asked how they managed to get Randy to agree, he shrugged with a charming smile and said, “We can be very persuasive, waitress.”

It seemed like everyone called you waitress. Well, everyone except Jinyoung and Jaebum. Jinyoung being the gentleman he was called you respectfully by your name, and Jaebum, well, he just didn’t talk to you at all.

After the little meltdown, you sat down with yourself and made a list of all the pros and cons of staying here. The pros included you were safe, you will not get kidnapped or murdered, you would live under the same roof as Jaebum which meant you would run into him, talk to him and maybe, just maybe, everything would go back to normal. Cons were that they, themselves, kill you, use you as a drug mule, and you find out Jaebum remembers but is ignoring you because he despises you.

You groaned at the thought and took another deep chug from the glass in your hand. You were tired of staring at your wall endlessly, so you decided to have a little party by yourself. You went down to the kitchen where the staff were shaking as if you’d pull out a gun and shoot them any second.

You took another drink for that example, trying to drown the nausea bubbling in your stomach.

Don’t think about it, you reminded yourself. If I don’t think about it, it didn’t happen.

You went to the kitchen and the kitchen staff almost shit themselves. You tried to make them feel relaxed, but your anxiousness only made them more on guard and scared. When you asked for a bottle of vodka and orange juice, and chicken nuggets, they were more than happy to please you.

To spell your boredom away you were drinking vodka, eating chicken nuggets, and singing and dancing with your entire soul to your playlist. You walked over to the speaker, cranking it up before playing the next song.

You groaned at how perfect the song was, you welcomed the nostalgia as you spun away from the control. You shimmied towards your plate of chicken nuggets, picking one up and stuffing it into your mouth as you began singing the lyrics.

“Oh god,” suddenly the music was so faint you could barely hear it.

“Oh no, that was the best part!” You groaned, turning around, singing the part with all your heart. The words got stuck in your throat as you saw the familiar boy standing in all black in front of you.

You gave him a toothy grin, as you sighed, happily, “Finally.”

Jaebum stared at you with an unreadable expression.

“Ugh,” you groaned taking him in. It was so unfair, it was so fucking unfair. How the hell did he get hotter over the years, isn’t age supposed to make people not attractive? Im Jaebum was ageing like fine wine, “And I wanna drink all of it.”

You pointed at him, your finger moving in circles despite you standing straight.

Im Jaebum looked like sin in all black. His dark locks messily pushed back, revealing his fucking sexy forehead. His forehead was so sexy, how had you never realised how sexy it was before? Maybe because he didn’t put it up before, your Jaebum had his hair falling over his forehead.

He would feel uncomfortable in the black shirt this Jaebum wore, and the black slacks. Your Jaebum would have been itching to get out of those expensive black dress-shoes and into his converses.

But this Jaebum was stunning. The dark black of midnight stark against his pale skin made his dark features even darker. It made him look more dangerous, stronger, more... angry.

“You’ve had more than enough to drink,” he crossed his arms in front of him. Your gaze followed the way his arms bulged under the black material. You licked your lips as your eyes roamed over him.

He did get a lot fitter than you remembered him. Maybe because he was a man this time around and not a boy.

He was a man though.

Such a typical fucking man, trying to dictate your life. This is exactly what you had seen growing up, a man trying to dominate over the females around him; that alpha male ego bullshit.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” you told him, giving him your best sassy look.

Jaebum didn’t look intimidated. For a brief moment you thought you saw a glimpse of a smile on his lips, but that might have been your imagination. Because all he did was shake his head, his face emotionless and sombre as he replied, “If you have any more, you’ll regret it.”

“So, I’ll be the one regretting it,” you shrugged, walking towards him. You lost your balance but caught yourself. You held up a hand towards Jaebum, who had flinched slightly at your potential fall. You stood up straighter, “I’ll vomit, I’ll have a headache. I’ll be the one to die if those other mafia people kidnap me, what’s it to you?”

“I’m not having any conversation with you in this condition,” he shook his head, grabbing the vodka bottle before walking towards the door.

You frowned, suddenly feeling scared that he’s going to leave. You didn’t want him to go, even if all he did was stand there and glare at you, pretending not to remember you, you wanted him to stay.

“No, you can’t-” you hiccuped, you can’t leave, you wanted to tell him.

Jaebum sighed, looking incredible in his black outfit, as he glanced at the vodka bottle in his hand, “You-”

He let out another exhausted sigh before saying, “I’m taking it for myself. I want to have some.”

You smiled brightly at that.

“Yes! Of course, you can have some!” You sat down in front of the fireplace, beside the table with the chicken nuggets. You gestured to the plate, as the heat of the fire gently hovered over your back, “Here have some chicken nuggets, it tastes exactly like McDonald's with the sauce!”

Before Jaebum could reply you felt yourself falling backwards, but you quickly caught yourself. You let out a little giggle as Jaebum found standing with both his arms out as if he could catch you from across the room.

“I’m good,” you mumbled. You were about to say more but then you started thinking of the picnic that day with Jaebum. No one could’ve predicted it, but one moment you fell asleep under the summer sky only to wake up to a rainstorm.

You felt someone settle next to you. You looked over to find Jaebum, and you smiled brightly, “You came.”

“Of course, I’d always come back to you,” he smiled back brightly.

Jaebum’s frown deepened, making your smile turn upside down.

You watched him in the flames of the fire behind you, and your heart sank, “You don't smile anymore. I haven’t seen you smile since I met you again.”

You reached up and brushed a strand of hair that fell onto his forehead. His bright dark eyes met your drunk gaze, and you frowned this time. You felt tears prickle your eyes as you ran the back of your hand down his cheek, “There is a darkness around you. You walk with it, or it walks with you. Why?”

Why are you so sad?

Why are you here?

What happened to make you like this?

Was it all the people you have hurt? Does it weigh down on you? Does it hurt you thinking about them too?

Did you start as a mistake too? Wrong place, wrong time, and this is your life now?

I understand how you feel. I’m just like you.

I think of those men I’ve shot too. I am just as bad. Does the numbers or intention even matter when the blood on your hands is the same?

“Pew pewpewpew pew,” you aimed your finger gun as you shot different areas of the room. You had shot real humans, you were a shooter. You knew how to use guns. You were dangerous too, you understood Jaebum, “Pew pew.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jaebum stared at you, terrified.

You turned towards him, your eyes heavy as you gave him a close-lipped smile. You lifted up your finger gun and blew the smoke coming out from the shots you just took.

“I am,” you answered, slurring, dangerous, a criminal, bad as just as him, all about the bad life, “Pewpew pew.”

I’ve missed you so much. Your eyes prickled with tears again, making Jaebum’s dark eyes widened at the emotion in your eyes.

“You’re...” your words got lost as you slurred more, finding it harder to say each word. You frowned remembering he wanted to drink but he hadn’t even taken a sip of the alcohol or had any of the chicken nuggets. Don’t you “like chicken nuggets?”

You used to love them before, your bottom lip quivered as a few tears spilt from your eyes. You missed Jaebum, you missed him so much.

You were so happy he was here.

You grabbed his hand and held it tight, before resting your head on your elbow. You’re just going to take a short little- no, not a nap. Just close your eyes for like one second, literally.

“You cried because I’m like chicken nuggets?” was the last thing you heard him whisper before you knocked out.

You groaned as you sat on the table the next morning. The sunshine was too bright, the world was spinning, and you felt like throwing up with every step you took. You steadied yourself in your seat, holding your hammering head in your hands as you held back the urge to throw up.

“Someone had a wild night,” Bambam commented getting into his seat.

Yugyeom sat beside him, smirking at your pain, “God, you’re pathetic, waitress.”

“Just because you’re not fun to be with alone doesn’t mean everyone else is too,” Mark came to your rescue sitting on the first chair on the right. Your gaze went to the seat Jaebum would occupy and internally groaned.

Why did you drink so much?

You had said so much; done so much.

Your stomach twisted when the memory of your softly caressing his soft cheek attacked your mind.

Oh, god, you were dead.

This is why you are having breakfast in the hall, and not in your bedroom like the other days.

You turned towards Mark, the hangover taking a backseat at the new terror lodging around you, “Why are we eating here today?”

“We have breakfast together every Thursdays,” he replied, and you eased back into your chair.

So, it wasn't for you. He didn't bring you out in front of everyone to shame you, or to kick you out. It was just a tradition, that’s fine.

No, it was not fine. You still had done and said all those things yesterday.

Omg, did you cry?

You cringed as the memory of the tears spilling from your eyes struck you this time. God, why were you like this?

Before you could curse yourself any longer, the remaining boys walked in. Jinyoung settled next to you giving you a polite smile, as Jackson and Youngjae got into their respective chairs.

You didn’t want to look at Jaebum due to your embarrassing behaviour last night, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your gaze travelled to him and your breath got caught in your chest.

He was so sinfully handsome. He was once again dressed in complete black with his hair pushed back, but a few longer strands flopped forward. He needed a haircut or his hair would no one be able to stay pushed back. But the long strands made him look even more devilish.

Jaebum didn’t glance at you once as he walked towards his seat. He didn’t refer to you or acknowledge your existence all through the breakfast.

None of the others did too, all busy talking about their business and all the things they had to do this week.

You tried to listen to get hints of what kind of businesses they were involved in, but all you heard was white-collar affairs.

“Are you going to get drunk today too?” Youngjae teased when he saw you push around your breakfast.

You glared up at him, and then Yugyeom who matched his mocking smirk. What did these two have against you?

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you retorted. The two rolled their eyes, but it was that little huff of amusement that came from the head of the table that made you freeze.

You turned your surprised eyes over to Jaebum, who tried to cover his chuckle with a cough. His dark gaze met yours, and when he realised you won’t give in and look away, his shoulders slumped slightly as he said, “Well, you have been drinking every day for the past few days.”

“How do you--”

“I know everything that happens in my house,” he cut you off.

The thing is you should be terrified of this Jaebum. You didn’t know what he was capable of. You knew your Jaebum would never hurt you, but you didn’t know the stranger before you. You didn't know what made him tick, what he did to punish or who he even was.

But you stared into his calculating eyes as you replied, “I got carried away yesterday.”

The corner of his lip quirked up ever so lightly as he said, “I could tell.”

You just glared at him as he picked up a chicken nugget from his plate and bit into it, not shifting his eyes from you. That asshole, he made the cooks make chicken nuggets just to mock you about last night. What a little piece of shit, challenging you while eating chicken nuggets.

You hated the way your body reacted to him though. You were supposed to feel anger and rage course through you. But the way he bit into the piece of meat and stared his fiery gaze into your eyes made you feel hot all over. You had never wished to be a chicken nugget more than you did at that moment.

“Maybe,” a voice said beside you, snapping you out from his trance. You turned to find Jinyoung looking over at Jaebum. Jaebum’s attention was on Jinyoung now, silently telling him to continue, “Y/n just needs a break.”

“She is on a break,” Yugyeom snorted.

Jinyoung ignored him and continued, “She has been stuck in her room for the past few days, and will continue to be for a while. You can’t blame her for getting bored and trying to get her mind off things.”

“So, what do you suggest?” Jaebum lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

You turned to Jinyoung, taking in all his beauty as he stood in front of his boss and talked for you. Even without you telling him, somehow, he knew how you felt and how you would certainly lose your sanity if you stayed locked up in there for a moment longer.

You smiled softly at him as he said, “Let her work.”

You rose an eyebrow at Jinyoung asking him what the hell did he mean by letting me. Jinyoung blinked at your reassuringly as he nodded slightly, telling you to trust him.

“No way,” Jackson said, “We’ll have to babysit her there.”

“Fine,” Jinyoung shrugs, turning to Jaebum. “There is an opening in the company, and I hire her.”

“Bullshit-”

“-Is she even qualified?”

“You wouldn’t hire me?!”

Jinyoung clicked his tongue and silence fell over the room. He continued to look at Jaebum and said, “I did a background check on her. She has a business degree from an Ivy League university.”

The same one you went to, you bit your tongue from screaming towards Jaebum.

Well, it wasn't like you wanted the job. But it was better than being stuck here all day.

“She’ll leave soon and we will need a replacement, and it’s important business,” Yugyeom glared at you. “How can we trust that she won’t sell our information to other companies.”

“Ah,” Jinyoug sighed, nodding. You snapped your head towards him, betrayed. How could he do this? Wasn’t he on your side?

“I guess we’ll have to employ her around the house then,” he murmured, you narrowed your eyes at how insincere he sounded. You saw the false lightbulb go over his head, as he acted terribly surprised and exclaimed, “I know! She can help you with the Greenhouse, Jaebum!”

“No!” You both answer at the same time. You meet his gaze as he shoots lasers through them to kill you. You smirked at that and lean back. A smile spread over your lips before nodding enthusiastically at Jinyoung, “Oh that sounds perfect!”

Jinyoung looks down at you, grinning, “That’s settled then! She remains on the property and doesn’t get bored. Perfect.”

“Perfect,” you smirk, staring at the disdained male at the head of the table.

He said he couldn’t remember you.

You stabbed a slice of apple with your fork before chomping a big bite off, let’s see how much longer he can pretend.

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let-love-run-red · 4 years ago

Text

Ghost

ART BELONGS TO ALIZERA62 ON DEVIANTART

Female reader insert

AO3 link

The house was a mess. You knew it hadn't been inhabited in awhile, but you hadn't expected to need a tobacco cleanup before you even started. The woman you had hired did a good job but even she couldn't get it all out of the paint. The floorboards would need to be replaced, the walls would likely have to be sanded and repainted, and you had no doubt the carpet had to go too.

You turned the sander off, removing your respirator and sliding your headphones off your head to take a break. You walked into the kitchen area, opening the fridge. You shuddered as a cold chill ran down your spine and you looked around. Your mother would say someone just walked over your grave, but you weren't the superstitious type. You chalked it up to standing in front of the fridge after working up a sweat.

You pulled the sandwich out of the fridge and shut it, thankful the new owners had agreed to turn the power on. You sat down on an unopened five gallon bucket of paint and dug into your lunch. You looked around the house. You had pulled down the blinds and curtains to let the light into the small space. It was nice, homey. You wondered how it ended up abandoned.

You continued to work on the walls for the next few weeks until the house was repainted. Hopefully that would erase the lingering smell of cigarettes. The previous owner was obviously a heavy smoker. Maybe that's the reason it was abandoned, they finally had one too many.

You were going to start work on the floorboards today. There was no way you could just refinish them, years of neglect and tobacco had worked it's way into the wood. You had measured the rooms that needed it and ordered the replacements, now just came the process of tearing it out. But, the house seemed angry.

You smelled cigarettes more often now. But you figured it was because of the floorboards. You heard thuds from somewhere within the house, but you figured it was just the wind messing with the attic vents. You got cold chills often but chalked that up to the newly fixed air conditioner that hadn't been calibrated yet.

You finally had enough when a violent chill ripped through you one day as you were trying to rip up one particularly stubborn floorboard. You hooked the claw of your hammer under it and pulled upwards, splintering the wood. This board had been held in with twice as many nails, that were twice as large as normal flooring nails.

"Alright listen house ghost if you're upset then come deal with me yourself. But stop giving me problems!" You shouted to nothing, feeling silly. But shouting at this "house ghost" was a decent outlet for your frustrations at this remodel. You turned to pull the rest of the floorboard up, spotting something tucked within the floor joints. You reached for it, feeling your shirt sleeve snag on one of the nails as you pulled it out. You examined the hole in your sleeve before turning your attention to the item in your hand.

"Put it back." You heard a deep voice growl. You jumped, gripping the small box tighter as you looked up. There, sitting on one of the piles of ripped up floorboards was a tall man with a mysterious green glow around him. He was holding a lit cigarette in his hands. You sat back as your chest heaved.

"How the hell did you get in here?" You snapped. You had locked all the doors and the windows while you worked. There was no way he could get into the house without you knowing, the new owners hadn't even picked up their keys yet.

"No, how did you get here?" He asked, taking a breath from the cigarette. When he blew out the smoke was green and glowed with a strange light.

"This is my house, what are you doing here?" He asked. You held your hammer as a weapon as you sat back up on your knees.

"Your house? No, this house was just purchased. I know the owners and you're not one of them." You said. The man snorted, taking another puff from the cigarette. You took a moment to examine him. He wore jeans with a white t-shirt and a black jacket. He had a heavy pair of brown work boots on and a brown hat atop his teal hair that cast a shadow over his eyes. He would be handsome, if he wasn't scaring you right now.

"Bullshit." He said.

"Who are you?" You asked. If he was here to hurt you he would have done it already.

"I already told you, I'm the owner." He said.

"No you aren't. Who are you really?" You snapped. You were starting to get tired of him.

"I'm the ghost that had until now tolerated you sanding down my walls and ripping up my floor. But I need you to put that pack of cigarettes back, or we're going to have a problem." He finally said, standing up from the pile of floorboards. His feet made no sound as he walked towards you over the floor joists. He grabbed your wrist and shook your hand to loosen your grip on the small box, that you now realized was an old pack of Marlboro cigarettes. When his hand touched yours you felt a familiar chill shoot down your spine.

You dropped the cigarettes back between the floor joists and he stood over the pack protectively.

"I, ghost?" You asked. He took the cigarette from his mouth and blew more smoke as he nodded.

"Yes, the house ghost that you've been yelling at for the past week. My name is Garcello." He dropped the cigarette in his hand and it faded away before it connected with the ground. You looked up at him and he tilted his head.

"How, what?" You asked.

"I died, and apparently my spirit is tied to that pack of cigarettes. So it needs to stay here." He said, pointing to the pack of cigarettes between his feet.

"So you can stay here?" You asked. He snapped his fingers and another cigarette appeared between his fingers that he gestured to you with before speaking.

"Now she's getting it." He said, taking a drag from the cigarette.

"Why do you want to stay here?" You asked, looking around. It was a nice house but it was small and in a state of disarray.

"It's safe." He said, looking around. You tilted your head.

"Listen I did a lot of shit while I was alive, and for a few minutes before I came back I was in hell. Literal hell. I have no desire to go back." He said, taking another drag from the cigarette.

"Actual hell?"

"Yes, real hell, with satan and the fire and all that." He said. He pulled his hat off and ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly. It fluffed out for a moment before he pulled the hat back onto his head.

"So those cigarettes need to stay here because if anything happens to them I'm gone for good." He said. You looked at the cigarettes between his feet, then back to him.

"They can't stay here." You said. He let out a low growl and his hair flared out around his head. The glow around him grew a little brighter and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

"Says you? Who even are you?" He hissed.

"I'm the one the owners hired to remodel the house. I can't just leave a pack of cigarettes, that has a ghost tied to it, in the floorboards. I'm pretty sure that violates some contract I had them sign." You explained.

"What are you going to do about it?" He took a step towards you, and although you knew he was trying to intimidate you, there was a hesitancy to it. As though he didn't really want to hurt you.

"Well I'm not going to burn it or anything, if that's what you mean." You said, reaching for the cigarettes. You picked them up and examined them. The pack was worn and faded and there were a few cigarettes missing from the inside. Garcello seemed distressed as you turned the box over.

"Please be careful." He said, holding out his hand.

"You're really nervous for a ghost." You said. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"You would be too if the eternal damnation of your soul was being prevented by a pack of cigarettes." He said. You snorted, that was definitely true. You set the cigarettes on the counter next to you and he looked between you and the pack.

"You're just going to leave them out?" He asked. You knelt back down, hooking your hammer under the floorboards again and ripping the next one up.

"I mean for now. If you're so stressed then move them." You said, tearing up another floorboard.

"I can't." He said, standing next to the pack. You looked up to him in confusion. He could obviously touch things, he had grabbed your wrist and been knocking things over.

"Why not?" You asked. He took the cigarette from between his lips and touching the corner of the pack with the tip of his finger. There was a sizzling screaming sound that came from his, skin and the pack of cigarettes. He pulled his hand away to reveal a black spot on the corner of the pack.

"If I try it burns it. I'm not sure why." He said, replacing the cigarette between his lips. You stood from the floor, walking past him and examining the pack.

"Can you just like, put it in a box and bury it in the back yard or something?" He asked, watching as you picked up the pack again.

"It would take a long time to make a box that's watertight so this wouldn't fall apart." You said, setting it back on the counter top. Garcello rested his elbows on the counter and rested his chin in his hands.

"How did it even get under the floor boards if you can't touch it?" You asked.

"I was with people when it happened. They put it under the floor and nailed it back down. For awhile they came to visit but, I guess they got busy." He said. You looked to him to see him working the cigarette around his mouth.

"What if I take this with me when I leave. Will you like combust or something?" You asked, pointing to the cigarettes. He tilted his head.

"No, I'll just go with you." He said. You nodded.

"Well you can't stay here, and I'm not just going to let you burn in hell." You said. He took the cigarette from his mouth and narrowed his eyes at you.

"You're going to take a ghost home." He said. "Like i'm a kitten you found on the street." He finished.

"Well it sounds bad when you put it that way, think of it as a roommate situation." You said. Garcello raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Could be nice. It's been awhile since I've spent time with people." He said.

"Well you can come home with me or, I can drop you somewhere else." You said. Garcello shook his head.

"I don't have anywhere else to be dropped." He said with a chuckle. You picked up the pack of cigarettes, walking around the counter to slide them in the empty pocket of your lunch bag.

"That settles it then. I guess you're coming home with me." You said. Garcello looked at you and cracked a small smile.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked.

"Well hell doesn't sound fun. And maybe I feel kind of bad that you've been stuck her alone for so long." You said, kneeling back on the floor and working to pry up the next floorboard. Garcello knelt next to you silently before placing the cigarette back in his mouth, gripping the floorboard with one hand and ripping it up. You looked at him in surprise and he grinned.

"Lesson one of having a ghost roommate, we're pretty strong." He said with a laugh, pulling the next floorboard up as well. You let out a laugh as he pulled another board out.

"Maybe you should come with me to every job I do." You said with a smile while the two of you worked together to pull up the remaining floorboards.

"Yeah maybe I should." He said, reaching down and gripping one of the leftover nails, pulling it out bare handed.

"It would be nice to see so many things." He looked up at you with a smile.

"So I guess you're just going to live in my lunch bag then?" You asked. He wrinkled his nose.

"I don't live wherever the pack is, I just am tied within a certain distance of it." He said.

"So is it a set distance or you can't like leave the building?" You asked, sitting back on your feet.

"It's kind of a distance. Like I can get halfway out the backyard, and out to the road out front, but I can't cross the street or anything." He said. You nodded.

"So are you tied to a distance from the pack as a whole, or if I took one of the cigarettes could you follow that one specifically?" You asked. Garcello approached you with a handful of bent and broken nails and held out his hand to you. You pointed to the paint can of nails next to the pile of floorboards and he dropped the nails in the can.

"I don't know. I never tried." He said with a shrug.

"I guess we have a lot of experimenting to do then." You said. He paused to look up at you before pulling up another floorboard.

"You're serious about taking me with you?" He asked. You furrowed your brows.

"Yes? What else would I do?" You asked with confusion in your voice.

"Drop it in the first garbage can or puddle you see." He said simply, pulling up a second floorboard.

"I wouldn't do that." You said. You saw Garcello's hair float around his head a bit more as the green glow intensified briefly.

"Why not?"

"I like you. You're nicer than most of the living people I know." You said. The halo around him intensified further and his hair flared around him like a lions mane. You watched as his cheeks blushed a bright pink and you smiled.

"Sorry, it's been awhile since someone said they liked me." He said.

"Can I try something?" You asked. He turned to you and nodded before taking the cigarette from between his lips. You leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. His lips were soft and warm. You pulled back and had to squint to see him through the green light. His hair was standing on end and his eyes were glowing green. He pressed his hands to his face to hide his blush and you had to hold back a giggle as his hat started to float off his head.

"Fuck I didn't know that happened." He said. You let out a laugh.

"It looks like we both have a lot to learn about ghosts."

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yikesharringrove · 4 years ago

Note

I have a headcanon that Billy doesn"t really know how to apologize like most people do. To him, the words are kind of empty so he just does things for people instead. Things like replacing all of the dishes with better quality ones for the Byers, making the girliest clothes Max hates disappear and replaced with things she likes, a new slingshot showing up in Lucas's locker, breaking into a car to fix it. Steve is weirdly charmed by it.

These may both be you? But here’s a combo since they’re p much the same idea

anonymous asked: Billy has forgotten how to actually connect with people so he shows affection through acts of chaotic good, like planting catnip all over the yard of the lady who allergic for yellomg at Max or breaking into a car so he can fix the engine. Steve figures out Billy is the one doing all these oddly kind things but he is still kind of intimidated by the blonde so instead of thanking him out right he just leaves things like cigarettes and baked good for him in his car. Have fun with that one!

This got pretty long so I put some of it under the cut.

Billy didn’t believe in the words I’m sorry.

They just didn’t make sense to him. He had never heard the words when someone actually meant them, and fuck knows he’s never actually meant those words before.

But that does not mean there aren’t things in his life he regrets.

For example: beating the shit outta Steve Harrington.

He felt like absolute fucking garbage about it.

Harrington hadn’t deserved that shit. Billy was just runnin’ hot that night, and Harrington had been unlucky enough to have bad timing.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he started leaving snacks in Steve’s locker.

He noticed how he would always be giving his friends the food off his fucking plate, so he would shove granola bars, candies, even made him a sandwich one day.

He watched as Steve would eat whatever it was Billy had left for him, just fuckin’ chowed down without question.

He would look into classes, find out where Steve sat and leave little treats on his desk.

“Mr. Harrington, I think you may have a secret admirer.” Steve flushed a little at the cupcake, and shoved it into his mouth in two bites at the beginning of history class, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and figured whenever this chick came forward, he would thank her for being so thoughtful, and let her down gently.

After leaving Harrington alone with all his snacks, Billy set his sights on his other regret.

He had Max hadn’t always fought and bickered. True, Billy wasn’t the warmest, when they first met, but once he got his car they would drive around together a lot. He’d take her to the arcade and the boardwalk. They both didn’t like being home too much.

So when Billy’s informed he’ll be watching Max for the weekend while Neil takes Susan to the city, he forms a little plan.

There’s one Chinese restaurant in Hawkins. It’s totally not authentic, not like the dim sum they used to get wandering around San Fransisco, but they had steamed pork buns and Billy picked up eight.

He let Max do whatever she wanted that weekend, figured they would have better luck with one another if they both acted like outdoor cats, coming and going as they pleased, but come Sunday evening, all the pork buns were gone, and there was an unopened pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

Regret number three: Lucas Sinclair.

Billy probably felt the most fucked up over this kid.

He’d gone after him, a fucking child, in his blind rage.

He had figured that out when he came to on the floor of that weird house, sitting up empty and alone, realizing I’m just like Neil.

He had seen all those kids with their nerdy toys, went out to RadioShack, early Sunday morning, leaving with a light wallet and a new idea.

Dustin was arguing with Mike over the realism of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, like there was anything realistic about it.

Lucas rolled his eyes, opening his locker, his mouth dropping open when he saw something inside.

He pulled the bag out, peering inside.

There were six brand new walkie talkies inside.

They were better than the ones they already used, had further range and more channels.

Everyone went silent.

“Um, these aren’t mine.”

Max’s eyes went wide. She snatched something up from the top shelf of Lucas’s locker.

The new Wrist Rocket had a note attached to it. She knows this handwriting, but couldn’t place it.

Enjoy the new gear. Don’t quit saving the world.

“Do you think they’re from Steve?”Max furrowed her brows at the note.

And then everything clunked into place.

“Maybe.”

The boys were tearing into the new walkies.

She got two cokes from the vending machine at lunch, handing one quietly to Billy when she got in his car after school.

Billy doesn’t really know what he’s doing here.

He had driven Max to one of her nerdy little friend’s houses, and somehow he got roped into staying? He doesn’t even remember.

But now he’s standing with a short kind woman, in the exact kitchen he beat the shit out of Harrington in, with Steve himself leaning against the other wall, watching the kids like some kinda hawk.

Billy’s hands were shaky, and he inserted himself into washing dishes from dinner.

He noticed most of them had chips, and all of them were mismatched. He put them away quietly, and drove to the nearest home goods store he could find.

Ceramic plates didn’t run too much, and he got a nice set of three different sizes, twelve plates of each size, light blue like the one he broke.

He left them on the porch, parked his car down the road a ways.

He rang the doorbell, sprinting and diving into the bushes before anyone can see him.

He watched as one of the sons, the one his age, the one in his English literature class, opened the door, his brow furrowing at the box of new plates.

“Um, Mom? Somebody left us a set of plates?”

He closed the door, but the took the plates with him.

Billy was sitting on the lawn, had just finished raking up all the damn leaves, and was taking a well-earned smoke break as he watched Max skating up and down the street, practicing her kickflips and ollies.

She cut into the driveway across the street, the only one on the entire block that was well paved, no cracks in the cement.

“Get out of here!” Max started as Mrs. Reynolds, a mean old woman was shouting through her screen door. “You little hooligan! You’re going to leave marks!”

Max bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she boarded back over to their house, standing next to Billy.

“I’ll be having a word with your father!” She rolled her eyes as Billy ground his jaw.

Cat nip was way more expensive than Billy was expecting, but he bought plenty of packages, returning home just past sunset.

He waited until about three in the morning, when Mrs. Reynolds’ sprinklers had finally turned back off before he climbed out his window, spreading the cat nip through her yard.

He flipped her house the bird.

Max was awed at the cats the next morning as Billy drove them both to school.

There must’ve been at least a hundred.

“Isn’t Mrs. Reynolds allergic?” Billy tried not to laugh.

“Damn. That sucks for her.”

Billy was sitting on the hood of his car, reading one of his lit books while he waited for Max to get out of her nerd club.

He startled a little bit when someone knocked on the hood.

And it was Harrington, smiling sheepishly at Billy.

“The Byers got some new plates last night. You know anything about that?” Billy tracked the thin scar on Steve’s head. It disappeared into his hairline. Billy wonders how long he had sat in front of a mirror, picking glass out of his thick hair.

“Who’re the Byers?” Steve huffed a laugh.

Max was standing in front of the mirror looking like a grumpy old cat.

Susan had bought her a lovely new dress, and Max fucking hated it. Susan was fussing over it, saying I ordered it from the Sears catalog! and can you believe it was only fifteen dollars?

Billy slipped a five and a ten into Susan’s purse later that day, taking the dress to the Goodwill downtown.

He found Max a couple crappy t-shirts there, bands she would hum to on the radio, shit like Journey and Foreigner, and slid them into her closet where the dress used to be.

She wore one the next day, blinking slowly at him over breakfast.

He avoided all eye contact.

Steve has long legs.

this was of course something Billy always knew, but watching him stalk in all his righteous fury down the street towards the high school really solidified that fact for Billy.

He was stomping, his strides long as he hustled to class. Billy thought about offering him a ride, didn’t think they were there yet.

Billy found himself in Steve’s driveway later that night, popping the hood of Steve’s dead car and searching over everything with a flashlight.

Billy rolled his eyes.

Steve had probably always paid someone else when his car broke down, didn’t realize if your oil was low, your car wouldn’t work.

Billy kept a few cans in his trunk, refilled the bad boy for Steve, making sure that was it.

He found nothing else wrong and Steve pulled into the school parking lot the next morning.

Billy could feel Steve staring at him when he walked into school.

He found Steve sitting on his car at lunch, holding the sandwich Billy had snuck into his locker, and a loaf of bread wrapped in cling film. .

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you last night.” His cheeks went hot. “Thanks for fixing my car. And all the snacks and stuff. And for the Byers’ plates. And for all the stuff with Max.”

“Nothin’s happened with Max.” Steve appraised him for a moment.

“She said you’re being nicer.” He held up the bread. “Homemade banana bread. Made it while you were being not at all stealthy fixing my car.” He smiled at Billy, one a’ those perfect sunshine smiles Billy had only ever seen Steve direct towards his kids.

“I just changed your oil. Car won’t run if you don’t got oil.” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My gas tank was full. I had just filled it.”

“Nah Pretty Boy, oil. It’s different.” And Billy took a deep breath. “Could show you, if you like. Teach you some basic car shit. How to jump, how to change a tire.”

Steve beamed at him.

“I’d like that! I don’t know shit about fixing cars. Always figured it would go way over my head.”

“It’s pretty easy. There’s usually only a few major things that go wrong in nice cars that are easy fixes. You’ll figure it out quick.” Steve slid off his car, and Billy lamented that for a minute, liked how Steve looked perched on Billy’s car, wondered how he’d look in the passenger seat, in the backseat-

Steve pushed the bread into Billy’s hands.

“Y’know, I forgive you. For that night.” Billy tightened his jaw. Steve’s eyes were a little green in the sun. “There was a lot goin’ on, and I was being sketchy. I don’t hold it against you.”

“I, uh, thanks, I guess. I’m sorry, about it.” Steve smiled at him again, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a bit.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve took a bite of his sandwich, his cheeks all cute and full. “And I’m more of a ham and cheese fan.” Billy rolled his eyes at Steve, taking with his mouth full of turkey sandwich.

“Sorry man, you get what Susan buys.” Steve laughed, his mouth still full. Billy was uncomfortably endeared by it.

“Don’t be surprised to find some lasagna on your porch one night soon.” And Steve winked at him, walking backwards towards the school. “You’re not so bad, Billy.”

“Tryin’ not to be.” Steve gave him a stupid little finger gun. Billy’s heart melted.

“You’re doin’ a good job.” And Steve set off back into the school.

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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soranihimawari · 3 years ago

Text

Lights On in Onigiri Miya

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Miya Osamu x Reader

Rating: angst to fluff

Warnings: friends to strangers to lovers// atsumu being a better brother & friend to yn in the long run

[18:54]

There is a box of unopened 40 Watt light bulbs atop the server station at Onigiri Miya. Electricians typically don’t necessarily work past their clock out times, so one of the employees suggests the manager-owner for the night shift that particular day come over to take a look at the lighting fixture. Turns out the last set of light bulbs had burned out in the interim of having the circuit breaker being looked at and set up to code. At this rate, closing half of the restaurant had seemed like a win-lose situation because the profits they could be making as a whole are slashed in half. Contrary to popular belief, opening and maintaining the exceptional service Onigiri Miya has had these last couple of years, seemed to have a put a minor case of self-doubt on one particular person’s shoulders.

In the past, people who frequent the restaurant were quick to note a few nuances about the owner: a young, sharp-witted, twenty-something-year old kid with dreams of pursuing his first passion outside of volleyball, has a rather ambiguous chip on his shoulder. Years of culinary and business school under his belt had taught the man how to wield both the knife and expense books, so when the bank offered to honor his request for a business loan to help put his goal into reality, it did take him by surprise. Miya Osamu, soon to be owner of this empty corner store in a neighborhood in the downtown area of his childhood hometown stands in the center of the room, his phone in his hand.

“You. Did. What?!” the voice, which sounds so much like his own, yells through the speaker. Don’t misunderstand, his twin brother is quite proud of him, yet sometimes (like right now) a string of curses and empty threats to beat his brother up for pulling a hat-trick the size of an Olympic stadium sound appealing.

So, why does a light bulb which needs to be changed after it has burnt out hours ago, vex the storm gray eyed entrepreneur?

“Boss?” a server who has been with the company for nearly two years now decided to speak up just a bit seeing as her superior was having a bit of trouble.

“Yeah?” He hands her the burnt out bulb and in exchange the same server hands the new one back.

“She’s here.”

The bulb is essentially screwed in and since this was the half of the restaurant where the power had been turned off prior, the shock doesn't happen from fingertip to lamp. At least not yet.

A familiar laugh and a greeting is heard among other patrons in reference as to who had just walked into his restaurant. How long has it been now since you last saw each other? Four? Five years, now? Sure being friends and keeping in constant contact with the only person whom you had eyes for since third year of high school was more damaging than good, especially when you throw reunions and the constant forced proximity due to a certain blonde loud mouth and a gossip friendly raven-haired mutual friend pushes you two further away like powerful magnets. The radio silence since the day of the argument that became the antithesis for your need to end whatever pretense you had befriended a Miya-twin during a group outing caused a paradigm rift.

“Even if forgiveness was on the tip of the tongue,” as you once said during a much needed 7-11 run with the offender’s blonde brother. “One of us has to be fire and the other, water, Tsumu…” You offer a watery smile. The athlete then says probably one of the wisest things an eighteen year old can say to someone who lets words of anger break them a bit.

“Every once in a while ‘Samu loses himself in an argument and says the dumbest shit., but you and I both know he doesn’t mean it.”

Your eyes are drawn downward as you fiddle with your pack of peanut m&m’s.

“He said my drawings were dumb.”

Sure, brothers fight the pettiest things, but this–causing a mutual classmate, let alone friend, any sort of pain makes for an all out war.

If there is one thing everyone who hangs around the Inarazki Boy’s Volleyball team, it’s that your talent is something you work at perfecting everyday. Your art style was coded in photorealism and even that was a rare find to even have, but to hear someone whom you thought was a friend say such damning things, you tend to cease contact altogether. Hence why you’re currently trying not to choke in between eating said candy in a 7-11 parking lot as the sweet chocolate is mixed well with sadness.

Come the following couple of days, a list of the seniors who were readily accepted into their respective universities get published in the newspapers. Those who went to pursue the athletic routes are stated with the select sport and teams they had been scouted for while in their off season regardless of being tied with a college or not. Surprisingly, this was how the team find out Miya Osamu’s plan to pursue culinary arts and eventually business, yet as for you, when it’s your class’ turn to get published, your name appears next to the iconic bolden letters of ECAL, Switzerland seemed to have eclipsed the news.

“Holy fucking shit,” a particular middle blocker says gripping the newspaper in his hands. He asks to be excused from class yelling an, “official emergency volleyball club meeting!” over his shoulder. Suna, for what his worth is, is a fast runner nearly smacking down several students (and teachers) in the long run before running to where he knew the twins were enjoying the remaining lunch period.

“Oi, Suna,” he doesn’t particularly break a sweat when he catches up to them. However, since it is also valid to assume you haven’t made up with the culinary-bound Miya yet, Suna thrusts the paper into the brothers’ hands.

“She got in,” he says when his breath finally returns triumphantly back into his lungs. “She got in.”

The blonde reads the list and he too has the same awkwardly proud face radiating from reading the box highlighted with the special text used. His brother, on the other hand, suddenly feels the weight of what he had said in the middle of the argument from two weeks ago slap him across the face. The argument in question was based on asking an innocent ‘what do you wanna do after we graduate from here’: for athletes who prove they can keep up like Atsumu and Suna, the path was clear; Osamu mentions he would want to go back to his first love (the wooden kitchen set his grandparent bought when he was three); as for you, you make a comment about leaving Hyogo altogether saying you’d always want to see the world. You’d make sure to draw everything you’ve encountered and the like considering you were a part of the art clubs scenes throughout your years in academia here. Your three friends were supposed to encourage you, in fact two of them did give you enough yen to finish the applications for international students when they kind of noticed a list of schools written a top your study steno-book. The same list was written in a majority of your sketchpads littered throughout the living room everyone was gathered in for movie night. Yet, with your sudden declaration not sitting right with the third, the threat of you leaving for good causes a discordance to emerge. You were dragged outside in a polite, ’we need to talk’ manner outside on your rear porch, thus starting the downfall and eventual separation between two former friends who kindly became strangers.

Five years of separation is a good thing, or at least everyone who has since interacted with either of you would agree. The first year away from each other was spent creating memories and learning the new areas where you’d be living for the next chapter of your lives. Sure, the cuisine was great and the seasons took some getting used to, but your sketch pads were always filled cover to cover. Some pages were marked with coffee stains and the occasional handsome stranger. Pressed flowers joined the fray in year two where you finally seemed to grasp the Swede language along with sporting traditions. You make your first group of co-ed friends who love your charming nuances and one night post-pub scene, one such friend and you decide to test the waters to become something more. The relationship lasted for about another year before the minor cracks began to damage the friendship which was best kept out of the spoils of when the breakup would eventually come.

On the phone you balanced atop a pillow, a certain internationally ranked setter dons an Onigiri Miya shirt which, you comment, seemed new. The blonde sticks his tongue out at your joke after insinuating the athlete was trying to summon his brother’s talents in the kitchen of his own home. A secret is then shared after the laughter simmers down to a chuckle: ‘I know he won’t say it, but I will: he misses you more than you think.’ You wince, shaking your head slight-quoting the hurtful words slung at you years ago on your backyard: ‘Tell him I’m still making dumb drawings if he asks.’ You remind your caller of the time and wrap up there. The setter turns and looks at the other person in the room who turns abruptly on his heel with a bottle of bourbon in his hands.

Life goes on from there: you graduate with your peers, having gained a few years of experience in the art scene in a foreign country, mastering its language and learning to love its people (some a bit more than others), you board the flight back home. Back to the place and essentially a new city where you find your jetlagged self wandering into an onigiri shop. The open sign still buzzes with neon burgundy lights spelling the kanji for “OPEN.” Behind the flaps that divides the kitchen from the front of house, you hear not one, but two familiar voices come through. One of which nearly topples over the empty barstool and the other, in all his ‘relaxed day’ uniform (complete with baseball cap and apron) drops the order in his hands breaking the plates in the process.

“Why’d ya do that ya jer–Oh, hey yn! Long time no see,” the blonde twin on the floor rises to his feet, brushing off the remainder puffs of rice from his team jacket. The logo is pretty spiffy if you were asked your opinion. His brother, on the other hand, seems to have frozen in real time as though he was going to be stored back to his factory settings if he were a robot; he notices how much older you looked under the fluorescent lights of his shop, the light bouncing off your out-grown asymmetric bob. Your luggage bag had since been reduced to one large rollaway and two backpacks (one carryon, the other a canister of your completed works). Talking essentially resumes once you’re joined by a very enthusiastic blonde athlete who now is informing you of his renewal with the MSBY pro-team with talks about him being selected to try out for the next Olympiad games. The mini chandelier by your side of the establishment seems to flicker just a smidge when your friend offers to pick up the tab tonight.

“Thanks. I completely forgot to forward my documents to the government agencies before I came back home, so I still only have euros to work with, hah,” you laugh.

Miya Atsumu waves his hand in the air for one of two things: one you don’t have to worry about any expenses when it came to food because he owed you food when you first came back (you remind each other any time you have a moment to talk and catch up) and two, this reunion between his brother and you was long overdue. So when you laugh, though it has been considered an odd sound, a delightful one if he’s ever heard something so pure, he’d be sure he had been struck dead by the pomp and circumstance of it all.

“Oh! Yer probably wondering why my brother is still standin’ there all silent,'' your companion says while another employee, this time the cashier, brings out the broom to dispose of the split food. You nod for the blonde to continue.

“Well, how would ya feel if the one personal relationship from yer teenage years ya regret not fixin’ walks straight into yer first (an’ only) successful restaurant and ya can’t say a proper hello because knowin’ ya track record, ya might give ‘im the boot.”

He slides out of the self-seated booth you shared just in time to notice the replacement dishes go out to their respectful patrons. You watch as the brothers exchange one of those twin telepathy looks as the other leaves instructions for his second in charge for the shift. Mentioning to the rest of the staff that something personal had to be taken care of by their boss, a few of the new hires along with their trainers watch their boss face off with what seemed like an old-ex-flame.

“One must be fire, one must be water,” you whisper to yourself like a prayer. You swallow the last bit of anxieties threatening to spill out of your mouth with a few seconds to spare as the other Miya, broadened by the work of the kitchen behind him, takes his brother’s place. You finally move your eyes from beyond the table upward to pick up the little details you missed: hands made strong from volleyball had turned into callus cracked skin from wielding various knives, some of the burn marks on his wrists from learning the sacred art of perfecting sticky mango rice darkened certain streaks of his skin; the taut fabric of his attire accentuates the a more sturdy frame from your high school days; and finally when you lock eyes with this Miya, you pick up on the many sleepless nights he must have had after realizing just how cruel he was. Lines under his softening gray-eyes darkened by early mornings and late nights of worrying about whether or not this business adventure was a good idea seemed to stare back.

“Hi,” you breathe a sigh of relief when you don’t fumble your greeting. “Been a while, huh, ‘Samu?”

He clears his throat, nodding. His hair is dark as the night sky again, so you point at your own.

“You went back to your roots I see,” he chuckles.

Elsewhere, his brother watches with a smug look of pride in his features.

“Ya came back home,” his voice sounds like he had been walking on broken glass. It’s not long after that his inner eighteen-year-old sounding self pours out of him; his apologies always sounded the most sincere especially when the vulnerability comes in his delivery. You encourage him to let it all out because in return you honestly wanted to thank him for being the first one to tell you ‘no.’

“Without your harsh words that night, I wouldn’t have been able to handle a lot of the criticisms I faced abroad,” you lean back in your chair in a more relaxed posture.

Miya Osamu, now twenty-three years old, sits across from you asking if it’s too late to still lend a hand of support every once in a while. You choose to accept it when necessary, however you remind him if he so ever pulls something that idiotic or hurtful ever again, you’d walk away for a much longer period of time.

This reconnection is what has Miya Osamu so nervous. It’s been a couple months since that encounter and birthdays have come and past, he just knew tonight he couldn’t warrant any mistakes. Light bulbs be damned because he was determined to make this lighting fixture work even as you now stand beside him, a hand on his shoulder. Your hand has a few flecks of dried paint from the curator’s office your work frequently is displayed at. Two and a half years since you’ve made your return back home, you decide it’s high time for a new adventure. The first couple of months since you and Miya Osamu learn to repair what had been lost in order to use it to your mutual advantage of navigating more young-adult friendships slowly, but steadily, turns into the uncharted territories of pursuing each other romantically (much to his brother’s dismay). Learning to forgive is a major milestone in any relationship and therefore embracing the change of seeking to let go of painful words (and time apart) morphed two individuals into who they were meant to be.

And if you happen to pass by Onigiri Miya tonight after hours, you’d notice the light in the corner of the dining room serves as a backlight to two people dancing cheek to cheek as the road paved behind them is filled with dried tears, empty carry out boxes, and several used (aka:well loved) phone chargers. Knowing they don’t have to navigate the rest of the time shared together here alone, leaves the dimly lit path of the future waiting with infinite possibilities.

#sora after hours #sora scribbles 2022 #timeskip!miya.o x artist!reader #friends to strangers to lovers bby #🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue

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azucanela · 4 years ago

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6. LOCKED IN A CLOSET | BAKUGOU KATSUKI

1K CELEBRATION MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: In which Mina Ashido gets sick of the pining turned avoiding, so she decides the best course of action is to steal the Janitor’s keys and lock her idiotic friends in a closet until they sort themselves out.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: kissing, pining, stealing, references to events in season three, damn?

A/N: i was considering using another gif and realized that bakugou’s hands literally SMOKE after he uses his quirk

This was the last straw.

Mina had been observing Bakugou for a while now, and she had determined a few things. First of all, Bakugou does care, he just has his own weird way of showing it, his concerns were laced in with his insults in an attempt to prevent others from noticing that he cared. Even though he would complain about the presence of Mina and the rest of the Bakusquad, he’d never outright kicked them out of his room. And when they needed help, with anything, he’d be there. Studying happened to be something they did together frequently, and though Bakugou insisted on insulting them every five seconds, he was actually a fairly good teacher. Then again, Bakugou also sought to be good at everything.

The second thing Mina had noticed was that actions like this were far more pronounced whenever he was with Y/N L/N. It seemed the girl made him, ‘soft’ to put it simply, not that Mina would ever say that out loud, seeing as she wanted to live to see another day. But it was clear in the way he encouraged the girl, pushing her to work as hard as she could, and yet when she overworked, he was there to keep her from the edge. It had been pretty obvious the day he’d offered Y/N his lunch because she’d forgotten her own, and sure, his offering was couple with a few insults about how foolish she was to forget her meal, but it was an offering nonetheless.

It was then that Mina began to wonder if Bakugou could feel things other than anger. She’d tried to ask him herself, but he’d simply blushed furiously and begun cursing her out. So, Mina hatched her plan to try and get him to admit feeling something for Y/N. She’d send Kirishima to ask him about it, only for the boy to come back with holes blown into his clothes by Bakugou’s infamous explosions. Then, she’d tried to get Kaminari to hit on Y/N, to gauge Bakugou’s reaction.

That didn’t end well for Kaminari.

Prior to beginning her effort to bring the two together, she’d gone to Y/N to determine if the possible feelings were mutual. Though the only answer she got was, “I don’t see why it matters, Mina.” Which Mina had a feeling meant, “yes I do, but I doubt Bakugou would like me back since he has his sights set on being a hero.” Not that Mina needed confirmation, she just would’ve preferred it, though the few times Y/N had offhandedly mentioned Bakugou in conversation were confirmation enough.

But no, watching Bakugou, seated closely beside Y/N as he explained the homework that had baffled her, Mina knew that whatever Bakugou felt for Y/N, it was far from platonic. He hadn’t cursed, hadn’t called her an idiot or some other crude name, hadn’t teased her for not understanding the concept they’d been learning in class all week. No, he’d simply told her to shut up and listen as he explained. If Mina had made such a request, he would’ve told her to start paying attention in class, or to quit being such a damn idiot.

This, this was the last straw. Now, this definitely wasn’t Mina’s brightest idea, I mean, who in their right mind would lock Bakugou Katsuki in a closet? Nobody. And yet, there Mina stood— with keys she’d asked Sero to... borrow from the school janitor— ramming the keys into the keyhole and locking the door behind Bakugou and Y/N. Mina refused to watch the pair pine for each other any longer. If they wanted to simp for each other mutually, then they would do it as a couple.

Also, Mina just loved to play matchmaker with her friends.

“LET US OUT OF HERE RACCOON EYES.” Bakugou called out, fist ramming against the door as he glared at the girl through the door, not that this was possible.

He could hear Mina begin to laugh as she simply replied, “sort yourselves out and then I’ll let you out.” All the subtle hints of their true feelings disappeared after Y/N accompanied Midoriya and his friends to save Bakugou, Mina was fairly sure that Bakugou was avoiding Y/N at this point, though she couldn’t come up with a good reason why, aside from the kidnapping itself. So now, she would force them to make up, and hopefully confess their feelings.

The tension was getting tiring for everyone in their class.

This only serves to anger Bakugou more, and Y/N seems to take notice of this as Bakugou feels her hand come to his shoulder, he can’t help but hate the way he relaxes as he turns to see Y/N, shaking her head, “Calm down.”

“Yeah, Katsuki, we’ll be back in an hour. Have fun, lovebirds.” Mina could vividly recall the day Y/N had accidentally called him by his first name, the boy’s cheeks had become a bright red, but when Y/N tried to correct herself, he shut her down almost immediately. And yet Mina couldn’t even remember the last time the two had even acknowledged each other now.

These words earn a growl frmo Bakugou, who is moving backwards to aim his palms at the door, hoping to activate his quirk and blow the door down, only for his back to hit Y/N. “I don’t think using your quirk would be the best idea.”

“Well do you have a better idea?” She was right, if he used his quirk, it could easily do more harm than good. Bakugou wasn’t sure how reinforced the doors of the school were, especially in light of all the recent attacks, he also didn’t want to pay for any damage he did. That and he could easily end up harming Y/N in the process.

She exhales deeply, hands moving to his shoulders to force him to turn around in the small closet and face her. “We wait until someone comes by, the janitor will definitely be looking for his keys.”

Bakugou evades her gaze he turns to glare at the locked door once more, “what if no one comes by and we have to wait for those idiots to come back?” Y/N shrugs, looking behind her before moving to sit on the ground, just for Bakugou look back to her incredulously, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable.” Y/N brings her knees to her chest, resting her head on top of them as she continues, “it’s not like she’d free us until we sorted ourselves out.” The words come out harsher than Y/N intended, but she was annoyed at the way Bakugou had been treating her recently, the way he was obviously avoiding her.

The boy before her grimaces, but settles down against the door nonetheless. The closet isn’t that large, Even with his knees bent, there still isn’t much space between him and Y/N, who had taken to staring at one of the many cleaning products in the room, rather than him. “There’s nothing to sort out.”

A bitter laugh escapes Y/N as she returns her gaze to him eyes narrowing, “you’ve been avoiding me for weeks and there’s absolutely nothing to sort out?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grumbles out, averting his eyes from her cold gaze.

And suddenly Y/N is grabbing one of the boxes of tissues on the shelf beside and and throwing it at Bakugou, hitting him square in the chest because of his spread legs. “What the hell?”

“I’m gonna keep throwing stuff at you—” She picks up another item, this time a spray bottle, “until you are honest with me.” Comes her response, throwing the item, only for Bakguo to catch it, placing it down beside it.

Y/N is already moving to grab something else off the shelf as Bakugou begins to protest, “hey—Hey! Cut it out.” Y/N is already throwing an unopened bottle of hand soap, which Bakugou dodges, glaring at Y/N as he hears it hit the door behind him. “Y/N, I swear if you—” she doesn’t break eye contact as she reaches beside her for another object, only for Bakugou to launch himself forwards and grab her wrists to prevent her from continuing her assault. “Stop.” There’s a tone of finality in voice, but Y/N disregards it as she begins to speak.

“You ready to talk yet?” She makes an attempt to yank her hands from his grasp, but Bakugou’s grip remains firm as he holds her. “Because I am sick of this, Bakugou.”

He pauses, brows furrowing as his grip on her wrists loosens and he releases them, “what did you just call me?”

“Your name.”

Bakugou is scowling now, falling back into a seat, though he’s no longer pressed against the door as he replies, “that’s not my name and you know it.”

Y/N can’t help but scoff, “first names are reserved for people who you care about.” He’d barely been interacting with her these past few weeks, ever since his kidnapping. Y/N had a feeling that had something to do with his behavior, but she’d assumed he had needed space to process, until space turned into Bakugou avoiding her entirely. She’d confided in Mina about the possibility once, and the girl had simply told her to confront Bakugou.

That was easier said than done.

“Do you really think I don’t care about you?” He asks, disbelief clear in his voice as he watches her, “Y/N, you could’ve died going to save me like the damn idiot you are. And what would I have done?!”

Y/N inhales deeply, bringing her hands to her face as she begins to speak once more, “Bakugou-”

“Don’t call me that.” He snaps, looking away from her, silence engulfs the pair as Y/N stares at him, still processing his words when he decides to continue, “I thought things couldn’t get any worse, but seeing you there? ” Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it as he contemplates what to say next momentarily, before looking back up at Y/N, “I’ve never felt more horrified. So don’t you dare say I don’t care.”

Y/N is about to respond when the small light above them began to flicker to nothing, effectively darkening the room. Y/N can hear Bakugou rise to a stand, hand coming to the wall and ficking the light switch a few times, only for nothing to happen. Her breath hitches as she grabs the edge of one of the shelves, rising to her feet as well. “Do you think the power went out?”

Y/N can hear the way Bakugou inhales shakily, causing her to reach out for him, hand meeting his chest. Y/N could’ve sworn she could feel his heart beating as her hand fisted at the material of his shirt in an attempt to bring him closer to her. “You don’t think it;s an attack do you?”

Oh.

“It’s not, this is just an old light.” She assures, pulling him closer, something Bakugou doesn’t fight. “Bakugou.” Y/N mutters, trying to garner his attention, she can’t see his face right now, and he seems to have gone completely silent save for his breathing. “Bakugou,” she repeats, brows furrowing from his lack of response. “Katsuki, listen to me.”

A hand comes to her arm, grasping it tightly, “what?”

“Your quirk— do you think you could make an explosion small enough to light up the room and not cause any damage?” Seeing as they were in a room filled with highly flammable chemicals, it was a gamble, but Y/N had a feeling this would do more good than bad.

He doesn’t respond, simply removing his hand from her and taking a step back, Y/N can hear a small crackle as the room lights up spottily, small explosions at Bakugou’s fingertips. His brows are drawn together, attention focused on his hand that was now lighting up the room,

Y/N found herself bringing her hand to Bakugou’s forearm as she moved closer, causing him to look up at the small explosions faltered. “See?” She mumbled, “we’re safe.” Y/N is rubbing small circles in his arm as she looks up at him, meeting his eyes.

“You don’t know that.”

Shaking her head, Y/N replies, “are you calling me a liar?” She brings her free hand to the back of his neck, hand tangling with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I didn’t say that.” He grumbles, the small explosions now steadily brightening the room. “And be careful, idiot.” Bakugou tries to pull away from her, worried that the explosion could harm her, but Y/N doesn’t accept this, grip on his hair tigtening.

She scoffs, eyes narrowing as she looks around the room for something that could help them escape the closet, to no avail. Y/N fails to notice the way Bakugou’s eyes trail over her, watching as her face is lit up by the glow of his explosions. When Y/N turns to look back at him, she doesn’t expect his eyes to already be on her, and can feel the her cheeks warm.

Their eyes lock and and Y/N finds herself moving closer to Bakugou, he makes no attempts to stop her this time, but Y/N can see red blossom on his cheeks in the glow of his explosions, which were beginning to become more infrequent. It’s not until the explosions come to a stop entirely that Bakugou presses his lips to hers, his warm hand coming to her side as he pulls her closer.

Y/N’s hand leaves his hair to grip his other arm, just for Bakugou to force them to switch places without his lips leaving hers. He forces Y/N’s back against the door, only for her to pull away, mouth gaping open as Bakugou’s lips find their way to her neck as he breathes heavily.

“That was a very sudden change of pace.” Y/N mumbled, a small laugh escaping her.

Bakugou grunted in reply, playfully biting at Y/N’s neck and causing her to swat at his chest gently, before looking back up to her, not that either of them could see much. Despite this, Bakugou’s hand finds its way to Y/N’s face gripping her chin as he brings her into a much shorter kiss, “you’re my girlfriend.”

It wasn’t really a question, mostly because Bakugou wasn’t asking, but it wasn’t a demand either. Even though she couldn’t see him, Y/N could practically feel Bakugou’s eyes burning into her, awaiting a response, whether it was an agreement or not.

“Okay, Katsuki.”

A/N: well that escalated quickly, also i hate editing kjashkjdahskjdh

TAGLISTS[lmk if you wanna be added or removed via reply or askbox]:

BNHA: @shawkneecaps @beifongsss

BAKUGOU KATSUKI: @hadespleasesteponmyneck

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x you #bnha x you #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugou x you #y

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