#um I'm not even sure what else to tag this

[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Vincent, fem!reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Parental yandere, light infantilization, fem+afab reader, periods, period comfort, embarrassment from periods, non-sexual nudity, reader implied to be younger, cuddles, Vincent doting on Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the other part of a commission that was done with Octavian!

You're sure you've never felt as miserable as you do now; your cramps feel like they're going to kill you, you've been nauseous all morning and you just want to stay curled up in bed all day, hiding under your covers.

Unfortunately for you, however, today Vincent is off work. Normally you'd love that, because then you could spend more time together. But right now, it feels like a curse; because how else are you supposed to hide this from him?

You're not ready to deal with it, nor do you want to.

To seem as least suspicious as possible, you try not to clutch your stomach as you descend the stairs towards where he sits, drinking his morning coffee.

Vincent looks up at you with a warm smile. "Good morning, sweetie."

Despite everything going on inside of your body and mind, you force yourself to return his greeting. "Hi."

You walk past him and quickly gather some cereal for yourself. You can tell Vincent notices, because he watches you with curiosity. "What's wrong? No 'good morning, Dad'? Just 'hi'?" He chuckles, but you can tell he's going through a million different possibilities as to what's wrong.

Instead of answering verbally, you shrug, pour yourself a bowl and grab a spoon. Then you make your way over to where he sits, taking a seat beside him instead of across.

Maybe that way his gaze won't be fixated solely on you.

Unfortunately, your plan fails, because he's still staring at you when you glance over.

"I was gonna ask if you wanted pancakes or waffles," he says finally.

"Nah, its fine, I'm alright with cereal this morning," you reply.

Vincent raises a brow, raising a hand to feel your forehead. "Are you sick? Getting a fever?"

"No, no," you stutter. "Nothing like that. I just, um, didn't sleep well last night..."

"Really?" Vincent asks. "Did you have any nightmares? Anything you want to talk about?"

Great. Now you're cornering yourself and lying even further than before. You're pretty sure part of him can tell you're lying, because he's so used to working with other liars. He reads people better than most could, which is probably part of his profession.

Knowing that just makes you more anxious.

For all you know, he probably sees through your facade completely and is waiting to call you out on it.

"I dunno... maybe? I don't remember my dreams," you say quickly.

"Hm." His expression shows that he's not entirely convinced by your answer.

You try changing the topic to distract him, and hopefully yourself. "Do you have anything specific planned for the day?"

Vincent blinks, then smiles fondly at you. "I'm going to leave it up to you. If you want to go shopping or go out to eat, that'd be fine with me. Or we could have a lazy day watching movies together. Anything you like, princess."

You feel nervous at his choices of options, considering you'd prefer not leaving the house today if you can avoid it. Maybe watching films together sounds nice, though even that gives you anxiety.

"I guess some movies would be nice," you mutter.

Vincent smiles, much to your relief. "Sounds good to me. Why don't you pick one for us to start with?"

So you do.

You get settled down on the couch after turning off the lights in the living room and opening the curtains for maximum viewing experience, snuggled tightly beneath a large fleece blanket. Vincent joins you moments after setting things up.

He wraps a strong arm around you, pulling you closer to his side.

Throughout the movie, he glances down at you occasionally as if checking up on something. Which makes sense since he seems worried about you for whatever reason. You pretend to pay attention to the screen while your mind races on elsewhere.

Every now and then there's a painful twist in your lower abdomen causing you to flinch slightly, although you try hiding these reactions from Vincent.

About halfway through the film, you start getting fidgety, wanting to switch positions constantly.

When you decide to curl up into a ball and bury yourself deep within your blankets once again, Vincent shoots you another glance. "(Y/n)?" he asks quietly.

"Huh?"

"What are you doing, honey?"

"Oh..." You look down embarrassedly. "Just getting comfy."

Vincent pauses for a moment before continuing. "Are you sure nothing is wrong? Nothing you want to talk about with me?"

Your heart pounds faster than normal and butterflies swarm your stomach. Your fingers tighten their grip on your sleeves as you answer: "Positive."

"Okay."

The movie continues playing, but neither of you speak anymore during the remainder of it. At certain points you catch Vincent giving you concerned stares again, especially whenever your hands wander absentmindedly underneath the blanket to press against your belly. When the credits roll around, however, he breaks the silence.

"I don't buy that."

You laugh nervously. "You love buying things," you attempt to joke.

He usually always finds amusement in your jokes, even the bad ones, but now he just looks frustrated. Its a rare expression on him, and definitely not one you like. "I'm serious."

You shrink back. "Sorry..."

Vincent's expression goes from stern to guilt-ridden immediately at your scared reaction. "I'm not mad. I'm just worried about you. Please talk to me."

"There's nothing to worry about." Your voice shakes as you say those words.

"(Y/n)." His tone sends shivers throughout your body. "You're lying to me." A pause. "Please don't lie to Dad."

You chew on your bottom lip anxiously. "...I... I don't wanna talk about it... please." Your voice cracks. Tears build in the corners of your eyes.

Vincent coos at you, pulling you into his lap. You bury your face in his chest as you cry softly. He rocks you gently, kissing your head every few seconds.

"Its okay, it's okay, sweet girl. Shhh..." Vincent hushes you soothingly. He keeps rocking and swaying slowly. One hand rubs calming circles along your upper back. His other cradles the back of your neck tenderly.

After a couple minutes of crying like this in his arms, he leans away slightly to lift your chin. With a thumb, he wipes the tears streaming down your face away carefully.

Then he smiles brightly down at you. "Hey there, kiddo."

You hiccup and sniffle. "Hi." Your voice quavers. "I feel so gross."

Vincent grabs a tissue from the tissue box on the coffee table, using it to clean off your runny nose and damp cheeks. "Much better now, huh? Crying is healthy for the soul. Even if it breaks my heart to see you cry, I'd rather you cry than hold it in. Just means I get to comfort my baby." He teasingly squishes your cheeks, which manages to bring a smile to your face. "There it is," he chuckles fondly. "How's about I go draw you a nice bath?"

That sounds appealing, honestly. "Yeah... sure," you agree.

"Perfect. Up we go." He hoists you into his arms and carries you upstairs, setting you on the counter in the bathroom.

He rolls up his sleeves before leaning forward and switching the faucets to get the perfect temperature.

You watch as the water fills up the tub, making little splashing noises when it hits the ceramic.

Once he gets satisfied with how full the basin is, he turns the knobs off.

Vincent hums as he searches through various cabinets, grabbing some scented bubble bath bottles. "Orange mango or watermelon?" After you give your answer, he tosses the opposite bottle back into the drawer, pouring the other into the bath. He stirs it in, letting the suds rise. "Let me know if it should be warmer or colder, kiddo."

He turns to grab shampoo and conditioner, giving you the privacy to step in. It feels nice, easing your cramps ever-so-slightly.

"Feels great," you sigh dreamily. "Thanks, Dad."

"Anything for my favorite daughter," he sing-songs.

"Your only daughter," you snort.

He laughs at that, placing the shampoo and conditioner in convenient reach. "Still true." He grabs a cup. "Now tilt your head back so I can..." he trails off.

You're quick to realize why. The water is a brownish-red hue.

To your relief, Vincent doesn't freak out. A look of realization spreads across his face, only after the initial shock. He chuckles in relief. "Oh, thank God. It's just your period." His expression turns to serious again. "Right? You aren't injured, are you?"

"No," you squeak out. "It started this morning. I'm sorry."

He holds his hand to his chest in further relief. "I was just a few minutes away from calling a doctor, you know that?" His expression softens. "Why would you hide this?" His voice seeps with genuine confusion and worry.

"...'cause..." You pause. "Because its embarrassing." You hug yourself anxiously. "And gross."

Vincent looks heartbroken. "Princess... you know periods are natural, right?" When you shrug, he frowns deeper. "(Y/n), I promise its okay." He rubs your shoulder. "Its nothing to be ashamed of. I'd never judge you for anything, let alone this."

"Thank you," you murmur. "It just feels so awkward."

Vincent laughs softly. "I've been preparing for this conversation for a while. Not really a fan of how we ended up here, but I'm just glad you aren't hurt." He sighs fondly. "I'll order you some pads, and when bathtime's done, there'll be a heating pad with your name on it."

You smile gratefully. "Thanks."

"Of course. My little girl is not allowed to suffer," Vincent says lovingly. "No, sirree. None of that allowed under my roof. Got it?"

"Got it," you laugh back. "Um, can we continue our movie marathons after I'm done washing up?"

He smiles warmly. "Of course. Since I'm such a good dad, I'll even let you pick one extra movie."

"Only one?" You groan dramatically. "All your movies are boring."

"They are not."

"They absolutely are. They're either the same 80's comedies over and over again, or the same superhero action movies over and over again."

"You're just saying that because you're a baby with a baby brain, and I have good taste." He sticks his tongue out playfully, showing he isn't actually upset. "Real movies, made for people who know good cinema."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you roll your eyes. Your face softens. "Thanks, Dad. For being not-awkward."

He beams proudly. "Anytime, kiddo. I'm just cool like that."

You roll your eyes.

[misc-obeyme]

Worth It

I was possessed by the spirit of macaron (or barbmon or mambatos or... what was the other one I saw? something to do with greed?) and HERE IT IS. I just- they're so- I can't help it, okay??? This is absolutely ridiculous but I REGRET NOTHING. Left it so I had the option of a smutty part two but I haven't decided if I'm gonna write it yet or not. Also, tagging @lonely-north-star as requested in exchange for the cutest art I ever saw~

Mammon x Barbatos - okay you can read part two here it's smut lol

Warnings: nothing really this is mostly fluff - just some making out and a cameo by Little D No 2

Mammon pressed himself up against the wall of the castle as he crept down the massive hallway in the semi darkness. He knew the passages well enough by now, having mapped out the most important ones. This particular hallway would lead him to the vault if he followed it far enough. However, Mammon also knew this was the way to the kitchen.

Technically, he shouldn’t be here. He should be at the House of Lamentation working on that stupid report for Devildom Law. And yeah, he’d tried to write some of it. It took maybe five minutes before he was bored out of his mind and decided he had something more important to do.

He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t notice Little D No 2 until he was tripping over him.

“Ow, hey watch it!” No 2 protested.

“Shhh!” Mammon bent down to clasp a hand on No 2’s mouth.

“Mm-mm!” No 2 exclaimed.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya?” Mammon whispered. “I ain’t nobody’s papa! Now be quiet or he’ll hear you!”

A door opened and light spilled into the hallway, illuminating the scene. Barbatos looked about for a moment before spotting them.

Mammon stood up straight, No 2 still clasped in his hands.

Barbatos shook his head a bit. “Did you truly think I would not notice you sneaking by?”

“I wasn’t sneakin’!” Mammon said immediately.

No 2 kicked his legs. “Mm! Mm-mm-mm-mmmm!”

“Ya little traitor!” Mammon said.

“If you would please let Little D No 2 go,” Barbatos said calmly. “He has his own work to be getting to.”

No 2 groaned as Mammon put him down, surprisingly careful.

“But Mr. Barbatos!” No 2 exclaimed as soon as Mammon removed his hand from No 2's mouth.

“No arguments, No 2,” Barbatos said, though his voice was soft and there was a trace of a smile on his face. “You still have dusting to do, if I’m not mistaken.”

No 2 groaned again, but he scampered away down the hall as he did so.

Barbatos looked across the hallway at Mammon, who stayed where he was, frozen in uncertainty.

“You’re slipping, I fear,” Barbatos said. “Normally you make it quite a bit closer to the vault before being caught.”

Mammon folded his arms. “Yeah? Well if I’m slippin’, so are you. How long have ya known I was here? Didn’t even bother to come lookin’.”

Barbatos actually chuckled at this and Mammon was suddenly fighting down a blush. “My apologies,” Barbatos said. “I’m afraid I was unable to leave the cake I’m baking unattended in order to apprehend you.”

Mammon blushed harder and looked away. “Yeah, well, I ain’t here for the vault anyway.”

“No?” Barbatos asked and there was genuine confusion in his voice. “Then what has brought you here this evening?”

Mammon pulled a small packet out of his jacket pocket. “I-I happened to come across this. Know it’s pretty rare. Thought ya might appreciate it.”

Without even looking at Barbatos, Mammon crossed the space and put the packet in his hands.

“That’s all, I’ll see myself out,” Mammon said, as he turned away.

Barbatos caught his wrist.

There was a brief moment where neither of them moved or spoke. Mammon’s heart was racing.

“This is one of the rarest teas available in the Devildom,” Barbatos said quietly. “Did you really intend to give it to me without staying to sample a cup?”

Mammon gulped, still turned away. His wrist was tingling where Barbatos was still holding on. Barbatos wasn’t wearing his gloves, having taken them off while he was baking. The contact between their skin was both thrilling and terrifying.

Mammon turned around, effectively removing his wrist from Barbatos’s grip. “I-I mean, if ya want me to…”

“I would enjoy nothing more than serving tea to the Great Mammon,” Barbatos said.

Mammon looked up at him sharply. He was greeted by a teasing smile, but also a glimmer of genuine pleasure. Mammon took a deep breath and said, “That’s right! Of course ya want me to stay! I don’t mind stickin’ around for a bit, but ya better be grateful!”

Barbatos stepped aside to allow Mammon to enter the kitchen. “My gratitude knows no bounds.”

Mammon narrowed his eyes at Barbatos as he entered the kitchen and settled on a stool by the island counter. Barbatos went around to the other side with the packet of tea and began to prepare the tea pot.

Barbatos looked up at Mammon through the fringe of his bangs. "If you had no intention of stealing from the vault, why were you sneaking through the hallway in the dark? You should have let me know you were coming."

Mammon huffed. He was annoyed at how hot his face still was. He couldn't seem to calm down. "I just… wanted to surprise ya."

Barbatos chuckled. "Then you have succeeded," he said. "I am both surprised by the fact that you are not here to steal and by the rarity of the tea you've brought me. Do I want to know how you obtained it?"

"I didn't steal it," Mammon said instantly. His blush was gone now and he sat up straight. "I saw it for sale and Lucifer told me what it was. So I earned some extra cash by pickin' up a couple modelin' gigs, that's all."

Barbatos paused what he was doing to meet Mammon's eyes across the counter. "You would do that for me?"

Mammon knew this was his chance to be honest. For how long had he been playing this little game with Barbatos? How long had they been tip toeing around each other, never fully committing, never even acting like they were close. Mammon didn't know what was holding Barbatos back - propriety probably - but for him? It was the knowledge that this demon was too good for him.

Despite that, he wasn't afraid of being rejected. He knew better than that.

"Yeah," he said, easily, not breaking eye contact. "I would. I did."

The smile that spread across Barbatos's face was the most beautiful thing Mammon had ever seen. So often he saw the knowing smile or the indulgent smile, but this was a genuine expression of fondness. Like Barbatos had finally cast aside his mask to reveal how he truly felt.

"Thank you, Mammon," Barbatos said, simply.

Mammon's heart suddenly became noisy in his ears.

When the tea was ready, Barbatos poured them each a cup, then came around the counter to sit on a stool beside Mammon. He placed the cups in front of them.

Mammon took his cup, which was still quite warm. Steam rose from it, fogging up his glasses.

Barbatos shook his head, though he was smiling. He put down his own cup and reached across to take Mammon's glasses off himself. He put them down on the counter. "You really needn't wear your sunglasses indoors, wouldn't you say?"

Mammon was so stunned by this intimate gesture that he didn't know how to respond for a moment. "Y-yeah," he mumbled.

Barbatos sipped at his tea, then closed his eyes in satisfaction. "This is indeed a high quality blend. You must have paid quite a bit of Grimm for it."

Mammon shrugged. "Eh," he said noncommittally. He didn't care how much the tea had cost. Barbatos's smile and his satisfied expression was worth every Grimm.

Barbatos opened his eyes. "Eh?"

Mammon sipped at his own cup before responding. "It was worth it."

Barbatos seemed to understand what he meant, the part that he didn't say. Though it was often hard for Mammon to tell just what Barbatos was thinking. He was too good at masking his emotions. Mammon was aware of how Barbatos only ever let him see what he wanted Mammon to see.

Barbatos put his tea cup down on the counter and slid off his stool. Mammon looked at him curiously, once again unable to read his expression.

Barbatos took the cup from Mammon's hands and put it on the counter next to his own. Mammon let him, responding easily and without resistance.

And then Barbatos moved in between Mammon's knees and kissed him.

Mammon's eyes fluttered closed as he tasted the light flavor of the tea on Barbatos's lips. His hands reached out instinctively to pull Barbatos closer. Even as his heart was racing again and the blush had sprung back up, Mammon also wanted more of this.

To his surprise, Barbatos responded almost as eagerly, one hand on Mammon's waist, the other on his thigh. Mammon thought he would combust when he felt a light nip at his bottom lip, causing him to open his mouth.

The next few minutes was all heat and tongues and the lingering taste of tea. Mammon thought he'd fall off his stool because he felt so dizzy.

Barbatos pulled away for a moment and looked at Mammon with half lidded eyes. "Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?"

It was a miracle that Mammon did not die on the spot. Instead, he let Barbatos lead him out of the kitchen. When Little D No 2 returned in search of his boss, he found nothing but two cold cups of expensive tea and a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses.

worth it part two | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[tojirights]

I'm sure we've all the "Alastor in a rut" fics but can I mix it up a little and request Alastor in a rut and so needy he's willing to give reader control?

a/n: omg baby's first rut, spawned by his attraction to you and he doesn't know how to get it to stop so he asks for help? :'))) i am def a subby person but every now and then i can write our mens being the needy ones 🩷

tags: 18+ smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot

you had an unexpected knock at your door late at night after you'd already gotten into bed, and at first you ignore it. then, it happens again. you groan and throw off the blanket, about to get up when alastor appears from the shadows next to your feet.

you go to scream, not even able to comprehend who or what is grabbing you in the darkness, but there's a hand covering your mouth before you can do so. there's also something... stiff hitting your back. you calm when you recognize the hand and you take a deep breath when he removes it. "what the hell alastor?" you whisper-yell, spinning around to face him. you barely recognize the demon standing in front of you.

he's disheveled, shuddering, and looks completely exhausted. he's in what you assume he sleeps in, which is an interesting looking robe. "al?" you frown, reaching out to touch him but he grabs your wrist before you can. "please, darling... for your own good, be careful with your next move..." even his voice is shaky. your eyes finally catch his, and you gasp when you see the deep, dark desire seeping through them.

“i need… need you.” he speaks, still breathless and you’re sure you’ve never heard something so sexy. your eyes widen, taking in the fact that alastor's cock is what was poking you when he grabbed you. alastor has barely said anything other than a quick casual sexual remark in your direction the entire time you've been here at the hotel, and now he's asking for your help.

"o-oh um... yes! i mean-" you speak way too fast, embarrassing yourself with how fast you're interested in 'helping' alastor. before you can say anything else, alastor's lips meet yours and you're instantly melting against him. he steps backwards until he's falling flat onto the bed, tugging you on top of him. your hips straddle his, and the friction against his cock has him arching into you. you swear he whines when you grind your hips, that you can feel his cock pulsing under the small layer of clothing.

you've heard of demons going into a rut, but you've never seen alastor acting quite like this. his hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his ears stand more alert. he physically looks... needy. and his breathy pants beneath you only spark your desire to help. you decide to push your luck just a little bit and interlock your fingers with his before pushing them above his head and holding them there while you rub against him.

alastor looks mad at first, that you dare try to pin him down, but the second he feels the sweet drag of your cunt over his barely clothed cock, he almost cums. "please." you're not sure alastor's ever begged for... anything before, but his pleas make your core pulse, heat pooling between your legs. "mmm, please what?" you smirk, watching frustration bubble up in his eyes. "please- i just... i need to be inside of you." he sighs, not putting up as much fuss as you thought.

you hold back a moan of your own, wanting to maintain some semblance of control over alastor, since you're sure this won't happen again. "ah~ good boy." you coo, again watching as something flashes in his eyes that's a mixture of anger and lust. "need you, darling." he pleads, grinding his aching erection against you. biting your lip, you tug off your shirt and wiggle your hips enough to slide down your sleep shorts. "make me cum." he gasps, giving into every carnal desire flooding his system.

as soon as the head of his cock presses against your pussy, he's trying to push you to take it all. "ah ah..." you warn, once more reaching to pin his hands above his head. "i will make you cum. don't move." your tone is strict, and alastor hates how much it makes his cock throb. he'll get you back for this brazen attitude at a later date...

for now, all he can think about is emptying every last drop of his seed deep within your sweet, wet cunt. after an agonizingly slow descent, you find yourself fully sat on his cock. alastor's eyes are shut, his chest heaving as every breath he's holding back the urge to cum. "hey al..." you whisper, leaning down so your nose touches his. alastor swallows, his hips wiggling ever so slightly. "y-yes darling?" he shudders, feeling every inch of your pussy squeezing around his leaking cock.

"cum as many times as you need..." the hitch in his breath is so audible, and all the tension in his body snaps like a twig. "you-" he gasps, legs spasming as he tries not to lose it just yet. "-don't know what you're getting yourself into." it's a warning, and you know that, but your cunt clenches at the idea of spending the rest of the night like this. "use me." you murmur, watching as alastor's eyes roll into the back of his head.

the groan that follows is primal, and you give in to his thrusts from below you. the force pushes you forward, your chest flat against his, every thrust upwards pushes more and more of his seed so deep inside of you. and even with his cock nuzzled deep against your cervix, the amount of cum seeps down his cock and covers your inner thighs.

you expect alastor to look worn out, but he looks even hungrier now. wasting little time, alastor flips the two of you so you're now under him. "now then..." he begins, his head slightly clearer now and he's not going to tolerate your behavior from earlier. "i think i like you beneath me a whole lot better, dear." you bite your lip and smile, mischief forming in your eyes. "i like this too."

the look in alastor's eyes tells you that you won't be getting any more sleep tonight.

[robinminustherichard]

Happy Bucktommy Positivity Bingo Week! For my "Buck Leaves the 118" Bingo Square

"Uh, h-hi I'm your new transfer. I'm looking for Captain De-"

"Buckley! My office!"

Buck gulps in a way he hopes wasn't completely audible and sends a tight smile in thanks to the firefighter he didn't quite get to talk to before making his way down the hallway of the 122 station toward Captain DeLuca's office. He steels himself with a deep breath before hitching his duffle higher on his shoulder and walking in.

"Captin DeLuca, it's good to be here. And, and good to meet you." Buck stutters out, feeling his face grow red.

DeLuca is stocky and serious where he sits behind his desk--its at odds with the explosion of hand drawn crayon pictures pinned to the cork board behind him.

"Buckley, Evan. Thirty-four, been at the 118 since finishing the academy, a bit of a hot head, danger magnet..." Captain DeLuca trails off then, observing Buck. Buck tries not to let the dread in his stomach physically pull him down in his seat. So much for making a good impression--"and coming to the 122 with glowing reviews from three of the best damn firefighters I know."

That gets Buck to look up from where his gaze was slowly dropping to the desk, meeting DeLuca's eyes in surprise.

"I-what?" Buck says intelligently, cringing in his mind at his own inability to come across even a bit confident.

"Anyone ever tell you that I started at the 118? Chim says you've got the most heart he's ever seen, and that the only reason he's letting you go is because he can't stand to see it keep bleeding everywhere. Hen tells me that you're gonna be a hell of a Captain someday--leaving us all in the dust."

Buck feels his eyes stinging, not quite knowing what to do with all of this, feeling just as overwhelmed as he did when he walked out of the 118 five days ago with a voice horse from arguing with the very people who seemed to have talked so positively about him to his new captain.

"A-and the third?" Buck asks, not sure who else would have known both Captain DeLuca and Buck well enough to supply another glowing reccomendation. Lucy, maybe?

Captian DeLuca smirks and looks up at the wall to the left of his desk. Buck follows his line of sight and feels a throb of complicated emotion pulse through him. There's a picture there, of Captain DeLuca--much younger but still clearly him, with an arm around a hauntingly familiar man.

"The third is, in my personal opinion, an idiot on many fronts. But I believe him when he says you're all courage, integrity, and helping people through and through."

"I don't--"

"Yeah, he didn't actually want me to tell you that he gushed about how 'amazingly competent' you are for seventeen minutes straight. And you know, how could I break my best friend's trust like that? Even when I think he made a hell of a mistake and just needs to stop being a damn chicken and talk to this supposedly fantastic firefighter who had put in for a transfer and that I needed to fist fight Mehta for?"

Buck is stunned, eyes still catching on Tommy's younger face in the picture, they way his smile looks genuine under his gelled down curls.

"You didn't actually fist fight Captain Mehta did you?" Is all Buck can say, stupidly, "I mean--no I didn't mean that. Um. I mean, thank you. For this opportunity, Captain DeLuca."

"I metaphorically fought Mehta, but don't you worry about that. Let's get you introduced to the crew first, and after shift's over we can hit the sandwhich shop across the street and plan out how we'll corner Tommy."

Captain DeLuca gets up then, a whirlwind of words and motion that Buck is hopelessly trying to comprehend. He walks out the door at a brisk pace and Buck's eyes travel back to that picture.

"Buckley! Let's go!"

Buck scrambles to follow, heart beating fast and grin cracking across his lips.

Fic tag list (reply to this post or DM to be added!)

@bucksaiga

@loulou-land

@lbltpsmspenguin

@connected-dots

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Aphrodisiac

rival!seonghwa x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of anxiety

Content warnings: oral (f receiving), names (baby, sweetheart, pretty), choking, spitting, a little bit of hair pulling, seonghwa is actually obsessed with you

Summary: your colleague-turned-enemy pulls a prank on you.

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: so i actually got this request like a year ago buttttt life happened and i'm just now publishing it. anyways i hope you all enjoy it and will continue to support this blog by reblogging my work and commenting your thoughts! much love, angels. <3

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

“I’m sorry, what?” You both said at the same time, eyes wide.

“Yes, unfortunately we only have one room left. We can prepare a walk letter for one of you to take to another hotel just a few minutes away and we will pay for your stay, but unfortunately we are fully booked.” The front desk clerk offered an apologetic smile.

“Okay…um…give us just a moment.” Seonghwa pulled you back from the desk as soon as you spoke, his expression dark.

“I’m not leaving, y/n, I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest you do. I’m more than happy to turn around and go back home.” You sighed, swiping your hand across your forehead. “Listen, if you’re staying here then I need the car. I don’t give a fuck how we do this, I just want to lay down.” Your lack of snark was concerning to him, given your usual form of communication was bickering.

He was silent for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. “Look, why don’t we both stay? You can cancel your reservation and save yourself the hassle of going somewhere else. I’ll get a rollaway bed and you can have the huge bed.”

Your cheeks flamed at the idea and you weren’t sure if it was due to indignance or something else. Even so, you caved quickly. “Are you sure?”

“We used to be friends, we can manage three nights together.” He rolled his eyes. The words ‘used to be’ hurt for some reason.

“Okay. But any funny business and I’ll hurt you.” You gave a warning glare before stepping back up to the desk. “You can cancel my reservation and give him the room.” You said before excusing yourself, making room for him at the desk.

That was how you’d landed yourself in your current predicament. “I’m a fucking idiot for letting you talk me into this.”

“You’re an idiot for less but okay.” He shrugged as he dropped his bag on the bed. “It’s not my fucking fault they ran out of rollaway beds. It’s also not my fault you’d rather eat rusty nails after having your wisdom teeth removed than share a bed with me.”

“Actually that last part is entirely your fault.” You snorted humorlessly as you rifled through your bag for your pajamas. A cold knot of anxiety settled in your stomach once more when you couldn’t find them. “Oh are you fucking kidding me?” You mumbled to yourself as you checked your bag again. Nothing. “Way to fucking go, y/n.” You sighed and held out your hand. “I need the keys.”

“For what?” Seonghwa asked even as he reached into his pocket.

“I can’t find my fucking pajamas.” You sighed again and he watched with concern as you raked a hand through your hair. “I’m pretty sure I left them on my bed when I was packing.”

Instead of the keys, a shirt landed in your hand. “I’ve got some basketball shorts too. They’ve got a drawstring so they’ll fit.”

“You’re being awfully nice.” You said cautiously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I’m just not prepared to comfort you if you start crying - by the way, you look like you’re about to.” His usual sass was tinged with something else but you were sure it wasn’t concern.

“I am not.” You huffed before squashing your irritation as he handed you the shorts. “Thank you.” You mumbled begrudgingly as you made your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Left alone, he heaved out a sigh. What was he doing? He never really hated you, he was just upset over being passed on for the promotion and was mad that you were offered the position when you didn’t apply for it. He was more mad that you didn’t take the offer. He could’ve gotten over his jealousy had you not turned down the position but it felt like a slap in the face that you wouldn’t take something that was being offered to you when he would’ve pounced on the opportunity.

Now he was faced with the uncomfortable reality that he still had feelings for you and would be in extremely close proximity to you for three nights but you couldn’t stand him. Had things not soured between the two of you, he likely would’ve made a move during a trip like this. Now he was left with his feelings and no hope of having anything more than a series of arguments with you.

His heart stumbled to a halt for a brief moment before kicking into overdrive when you came out of the bathroom, hair wet from a quick shower, his clothes dwarfing your frame. Part of him was dying to get his hands on you, to kiss and claim every inch of you. You looked absolutely delectable wearing his clothes and his possessive streak was about to rear its head.

Instead, he cleared his throat and turned away. “It’s about time. Do you always take forever to get dressed after a shower?”

“Well now I'm tempted to take even longer next time. Don’t play with me.” You gave a fake smile as you circled the bed to where your bag still was. You lifted it off the bed and placed it on the floor by the nightstand then turned the sheets back and grabbed the can of disinfectant spray from a shopping bag. The two of you had already stopped by the store and you’d grabbed a small can.

“Is this really necessary?” He frowned in annoyance even as he humored you and followed suit, moving his things and turning his side of the sheets back.

“Yes it’s necessary. Do you know how many people touch these sheets even after they’ve been washed? Or how dirty those laundry rooms actually are? And don’t even get me started on the duvets.” You cringed as you began to spray the bed down, lifting the pillows on your side before circling the bed and working on his side.

“And we’re about to make it dirty by sleeping here. What is your point?” He rolled his eyes and grabbed his clothes from where he’d placed them on the opposite night stand. “Whatever. Have your fun. I’m going to shower.” And with that, he left you alone.

Once you were satisfied, you placed the can back in the bag and crawled into bed, cutting the light on your side off. You drifted off before he was even out of the shower.

When he returned, still toweling his hair, you were fast asleep. He was quick to turn the other light off to keep from disturbing you, even though he wasn’t ready to bed down just yet. He stood over you and watched for a moment, taking in the planes of your face. You looked so worried, so fatigued. What had changed for you in the time that your friendship had fallen apart? He didn’t think too hard about it and got in bed as well.

————————————————

Your presentation had been a failure and you were currently nursing your wounds at the hotel bar, trying to avoid Seonghwa. You knew he’d mock you and you couldn’t handle that at the moment.

You let out a deep sigh when he found you, turning further away from him when he sat beside you. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Remind you of how badly you fucked that up?” He paused before feigning apology. “Oops. Too late.”

“Seonghwa please just stop.” You felt a lump forming in your throat and reached into your purse for your wallet.

“Why? You’re the one who screwed up, not me. You can’t seriously expect me to feel bad for you.” He did but he couldn’t stop digging the hole deeper.

“Seriously. Stop.” You forced out, rifling through your wallet as pressure built behind your eyes.

“Listen, I'm sorry you’re not good at public speaking or whatever, but that’s not my problem. It’s not my job to be your bestie.”

“Yeah, fucking obviously.” You finally spat as you tossed down a twenty and stood. “Just leave me the fuck alone, Seonghwa.” Your face was red and your vision was starting to blur with tears so you hurried off towards the elevator, not wanting to let him see you cry.

It wasn’t your fault you bombed the presentation. Your anxiety had choked out every word you’d tried to say so you’d fumbled through each slide and he’d stepped up, covering the information in a more coherent manner. If he’d been anyone else, you would’ve found comfort in the support, but he wasn’t someone who did things because he cared.

You stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for your floor before repeatedly smashing the ‘door close’ button but it was too late. He’d managed to get an arm in the door before it shut and stepped inside, an unnerving amount of concern etched on his face. Why was he concerned? He loved seeing you pissed off.

“Y/n…” He reached a hand out but you jerked your arm away as the doors slid shut.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Seonghwa.” Your voice cracked and you turned away so he couldn’t see the tears starting to fall.

“Y/n, stop.” He grabbed your arm more forcefully this time and spun you around. You looked down so he couldn’t see you properly and he just sighed as he pulled you into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Those two words broke something in you and your shoulders shook with a silent sob. He rubbed circles on your back as you cried into his chest, his familiar scent slowly seeping into your bones and calming you as you finally reached the tenth floor after several minutes. Why the fuck was the elevator so slow anyways?

As soon as the door opened, you untangled yourself from him and headed off towards your room without a word. You weren’t sure what to say.

The second the door was shut, he reached for you again. “Y/n, we need to talk.”

“We’ve needed to talk for two years. Why now?” You were tired of trying to figure out what he wanted. Tired of the fighting that only seemed to encourage his irritating ways.

“Because I'm tired of hurting you.” He sighed, gently squeezing your bare shoulders. His warm hands on your skin offered a measure of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

“Why? You hate me.”

“I never hated you. I was angry at you.” He corrected, urging you towards the desk chair and forcing you to sit before he propped on the desk. “I didn’t understand how you could pass up such an amazing opportunity and I was angry that you didn’t want it as much as I did. It pissed me off that you could want to miss out.”

“Seonghwa, I never wanted that position. I’m comfortable where I'm at.” You sighed and crossed your legs. “Have you ever considered why I didn't take it?”

“I just said that.”

You ignored his snarky tone and carried on. “Not only did I not want the job, I knew that you did. It was partially out of self-preservation and partially out of respect for you.”

“If you’d respected me as much as you say, you would’ve taken the job and not seemed so ungrateful.” He deadpanned and you felt more tears, this time from frustration.

“I just told you I didn’t want it!” You exclaimed, uncrossing your legs and leaning forwards. “You saw what happened today. That would’ve been every day if I’d taken the promotion. It’s embarrassing and anxiety-inducing, something I frankly don’t need more of. I’m not mentally strong enough for that humiliation. I didn’t want to take it because I knew I’d fail.” You said bitterly as you stood and kicked off your heels. “And for the record, I told them you were a better fit. So if you want someone to be mad at, be mad at them. Not me. I tried to get you the job.” You spat and then you stormed into the bathroom, leaving him sitting in silence.

It took you fifteen minutes to get ready for bed and when you emerged from the bathroom, he was sitting on the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to consider the full reasoning behind you turning down the promotion. I was just so angry that you were chosen and still refused.”

“You’ve always been more ambitious than me. You’re more comfortable in your own skin than I am. More confident.” You shrugged and sat on your side of the bed.

“Which is sad, quite honestly.” He smiled humorlessly. “Listen, I know this is my fault. Can we agree to stop the feud?”

“That depends on you. I don’t instigate, I react. So we can only stop this if you stop trying to get under my skin.” You shrugged and laid down, pulling the sheets up to your chin when he stood. “Now go take a shower.” You hummed and flicked off your lamp.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep once he left the room but the next morning, you awoke to a strong arm wrapped around your waist. You realized your head was laying on his other arm so you tried to move away but he pulled you in closer. “Seonghwa.” A sleepy grunt was his only acknowledgement. “Why are you cuddling with me?”

“You’re warm.” He hummed, his voice deep with sleep. Holy hell… “Must’ve moved in my sleep.” He hadn’t. He’d been holding you the whole time.

“Okay but you’re awake now. So why are you still holding me?” Your cheeks were rapidly heating at the realization that he was shirtless this time. He made an unconcerned ‘I dunno’ noise and shrugged but made no move to release you. You tried to wriggle away again and his grip tightened.

“Well now I can’t let you go.” His voice was laced with amusement. “Solely because you want me to.”

“Unhand me!” You cried, a smile already on your face as you struggled to get away again. He laughed and pulled you further against him. “Come on, I thought we were gonna act like adults.”

“I never agreed to that. I just said I’d stop being mean.” He pointed out as his fingers dug into your side, earning a soft squeal as you jolted. “And in the spirit of being nice, I won’t exploit your ticklishness right now.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.” You rolled your eyes, still smiling even as he finally released you.

“Go get dressed. I’ll make us some coffee.” He hummed. You did as he said, padding to the bathroom after grabbing your clothes. As soon as you were gone, he shot out of bed with a grin, ignoring how perfect you looked in his clothes. Just because he was being nice didn’t mean he couldn’t still prank you.

He brewed the coffee and mixed in the creamer and sugar like you liked - he’d observed you making your coffee many times and knew how you liked it - then dropped in the chocolate. He knew how much you loved chocolate so you’d be thrilled to have it in your coffee. It was like a milkshake with how much creamer was in it.

When you came out a few minutes later, he handed you the cup. “I added something for you.” He hummed, waiting for you to sip the drink, which you did cautiously. Your face lit up at the sweet flavor and you thanked him, not catching the mischief in his smile as you drank in comfortable silence.

“You know, part of me isn’t sure I should trust you just yet.” You admitted a few minutes after finishing your coffee.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to change that, okay?” You nodded and bit your lip as you settled against the headboard. “We’ve got the whole morning free. What do you want to do?”

“Honestly, I kind of want to go back to sleep.” You chuckled as he gathered his clothes to get ready for the day.

“I mean, you could.” He shrugged as he padded to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

In the short amount of time it took him to get ready for the day, you noticed something was off. You were warm and your breathing was picking up. You felt flustered at the memory of his shirtless form, sweats slung low on his hips, and your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. Why were you so turned on?

Your mouth went dry for a brief moment when he came back before watering as you took him in. He was in all black, his button down hugging his chest just right and his thighs looking powerful in his tight pants, and you wanted to pounce on him. What the fuck?

“You good?” He drawled, lifting a perfectly-groomed eyebrow.

“Yeah, why?” You responded immediately. That was far too quick for your liking.

“Because you look like a tomato and you’re eyeing me like a piece of meat.” He paused and made a show of moving closer. “Wait a minute…” He leaned down and examined you for a moment before grinning, faking shock. “Are you…turned on?”

“No!” You practically shrieked.

“You must’ve really liked that coffee.” He snorted as he righted himself.

Everything clicked at his words and your jaw dropped slightly. “What did you do?”

“Oh you know.” He shrugged as he went to his bag and reached inside. “Gave you a treat.” He grinned as he held up the pack of aphrodisiac chocolates.

“You motherfucker-” You chucked a pillow at him, indignation filling your words.

“Should I have one as well? Maybe we can fuck away the animosity.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he opened the box and pulled out the foil packet. When you hesitated to turn him down, his grin grew. “You want that? Want to fuck away all the bad feelings that ever existed between us?”

Your breath hitched as he broke off a piece of chocolate and lifted it to his lips. Finally, you nodded sheepishly. He quickly popped the candy in his mouth and let out a theatrical groan, both for your reaction and because it tasted amazing.

Your cheeks grew hotter at the sound and you averted your gaze, earning a laugh from him. “You’re too cute, y/n. You never struck me as the shy type.” He stalked towards the bed, lifting one knee onto the mattress as soon as he reached. “You wanna know what I think?” When you didn’t respond, he continued anyway. “I think that the second I get you naked, you’ll be a completely different person. You seem like a screamer. I bet you like it kinda wild.”

You hated how your body reacted to his drawl and you especially hated how quickly he figured you out but didn’t say anything to correct him. Instead, you simply accepted his advances when he moved closer and tipped your head back against the headboard. “Now’s your chance to back out.” He warned, his lips a hair’s width away.

Instead of verbally responding, you closed the tiny gap between the two of you. You felt a jolt of electricity when your lips touched. Immediately, something in him changed. He quickly lost his cool and began to devour your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth the moment your lips parted. You could taste the chocolate on his tongue and your pulse ratcheted up.

Your pussy throbbed when he let out a soft groan and you couldn’t stop your hands from moving to his chest. You deftly unbuttoned his shirt as his hands untucked your blouse and began to lift it. The instant you pulled back, your top was tossed aside and he urged you to stand. You didn’t want to move just yet, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours, but you complied quickly and a moment later he was knelt in front of you.

He pressed his forehead to your stomach as he took a steadying breath, then reached behind you to unzip your skirt. “This fucking thing has been taunting me for ages.” He growled as the material slid down your legs, revealing your already-soaked panties.

He pressed a kiss above your belly button, followed by one right below it, then another right above your panties. “How long?” Your voice sounded strange to you, never having been so rough in your life.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters right now is that I get a taste of your pretty pussy.” His gaze was heavy as his fingertips skimmed along your thighs, making your thoughts fuzzy. “May I?” He asked, fingers finally tracing along the edges of your panties.

You nodded quickly and he didn’t bother moving the material before pressing his tongue to you. The motion was meant to tease, as he quickly replaced his tongue with his nose and took a deep breath, groaning at the scent of your arousal.

Long fingers pushed your panties to the side a moment later, revealing your glistening folds to him. “Shit…” He hissed, his eyelids growing heavy as he zeroed in on your slick. Then his tongue was back on you, lapping at your mess. He locked eyes with you and his hands went to your ass, kneading the soft flesh there as his tongue worked you.

Seonghwa ate pussy like he’d been in the desert for days and your body was the first drop of water he’d stumbled across. Like a man starved. He was beyond enthusiastic and you were certain he’d wring you dry of orgasms before noon.

He sucked on your clit while pulling you impossibly closer and your jaw dropped, eyes fighting to stay open. “S-Seonghwa-” Your voice was a breathy moan as your hands tangled in his hair and he growled against you in appreciation, making sure you felt the vibrations.

You tugged at his hair in response and he gave a harsh suck, making your knees weak. You let out a soft curse and felt him smirk against you but couldn’t be bothered to be annoyed with his cockiness. He was too damn good at what he was doing for you to think about anything else.

Your head tipped back after a few minutes, soft moans flowing freely from your lips. You were doing well at keeping quiet so as not to disturb other guests but he’d change that. He was determined to make you scream and cry for him.

A soft nip to your clit had your spine straightening and your eyes flying open. “Oh fuck me-” You gasped at the pain that quickly gave way to pleasure as he soothed the sensitive bud with his tongue.

“Later, baby.” He teased before diving back in with renewed vigor, his tongue working faster as he felt you tensing under his touch. You shot him a glare but bit your lip hard when he laughed against you.

“Shit-” You whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening. He groaned at the sensation and you made another small sound. He knew good and damn well what he was doing to you and you didn’t want it to end, even as the knot in your belly began to unravel. “Oh- ‘m gonna cum-” You warned and he sucked on your clit once more, harder this time.

Your toes curled with the intensity of your orgasm. Your chest heaved and your head fell back as you let out a string of subdued moans and soft curses. Even as you came down from your high, he continued to lap at you and you felt a burning sensation under your skin. You could handle several orgasms but you needed a few minutes between each one.

“Hwa wait-” You whimpered. “Hold on.” You gently pushed him back and he reluctantly pulled away.

“The second I get you undressed and on that bed, my head is going back between your legs.” He warned as he stood, pulling you against him. His stiff cock strained against the confines of his pants, pressing against your belly, and you couldn’t help but reach out and palm him as he tipped your head back for a kiss.

You moaned softly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he plundered your mouth, noticing the way his cock twitched at the sound. He wasted no time in unclasping your bra and tossing it aside, lightly pinching your nipple a moment later. You squeezed him through his pants in return and he nipped at your lip as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Impatient, you broke the kiss and began to sink to your knees but he stopped you. “Another time, baby. Let me take care of you this time, yeah?”

“But…”

He leaned in so his lips were right by your ear before whispering. “After all our meetings are done for the day, you can do whatever you want. We can come back here and you can have me however you’d like. How’s that sound, baby?”

You clenched around nothing, both at his words and the sound of his voice, rough with desire. “Anything I want?” He nodded. “You don’t know what you’ve just signed up for.” You grinned mischievously as he righted himself and pulled you against him.

“I’m more than happy to be your toy, sweetheart.” He hummed as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. “Now let’s get these off so I can keep playing with you.”

He slid the material down your legs and you stepped out of the flimsy cotton only to be pushed backwards onto the bed. He crawled over you with a wolfish grin, one hand caressing your side. “You gonna let me go down on you again, pretty?”

“Please-” You nodded, your voice coming out as a breathy moan.

“Good girl.” He cooed, already moving down the mattress. He knelt beside the bed and hooked your legs over his shoulders, eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “God- you’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

You don’t bother trying to stop his praises, too focused on the way his lips seal around your clit once more. You never would’ve had a chance to respond even if you wanted to.

Instantly, the burn under your skin returned but in a more delicious way. Your hands tangled in his hair, guiding him this way and that. You knew you wouldn’t last long since you’d already had one orgasm so you decided to fully enjoy it and tell him exactly what to do.

Of course, he had other plans. He wanted to appreciate you in ways he’d only been able to dream of before. He wanted to take his time and drown in you. You tasted like Heaven, like he’d always imagined, and he couldn’t get enough.

After several moments of sucking and licking, he decided to try something else. Something he hadn’t been able to do while you were standing. His tongue pressed inside you and you immediately pressed against his touch, his nose bumping your clit at the same time. “Oh- Seonghwa, please-” You gasped out, pulling his hair hard.

He groaned against you at the sting and retracted his tongue only to plunge into you once more. In and out, in and out. He carried on like that for close to a minute before he retreated, tongue flicking over your clit once more. At your whine of dismay, he slid two fingers into you and curled them instantly, finding your g-spot in record time. It was as if he had studied your body for years and knew every inch of you. He’d wanted you for so long that he’d dreamt of doing so.

His impossibly-tight pants were constricting. They were getting on his damn nerves. But he wanted you to be the one to undress him so he didn’t dare try to shimmy them off. Not when he was finally able to bury his face between your legs.

You let out a loud whimper as he scissored his fingers and lapped at your cunt, your back arching off the bed. “Fuck- ‘m close, Hwa-” You warned, thighs beginning to tremble. He was too fucking good and you were too high strung to hold back.

As you clenched around his fingers, coming undone as soon as the words left your mouth, he let out a long groan against you. You felt him shift under your legs but didn’t bother trying to figure out why as you allowed wave after wave of white hot pleasure to cascade over your body, back still bowed off the bed.

He helped you through it, sucking and nipping at your clit until you were certain you’d gone up in flames. You gently pushed him away, chest heaving, and he stood between your legs. “I’m so giving you the sloppiest blowjob later.” You panted, smiling up at him as he moved over you.

“I’ll look forward to it.” He grinned as he leaned down to catch your lips in a messy kiss. You reached for his pants as you kissed and made a small sound when you found a wet patch across the front.

“Did you-”

“Yeah. You tasted too good and looked too perfect for me to hold back.” He admitted shamelessly as his lips trailed to your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks since you had another round of presentations you needed to look presentable for later in the afternoon.

“There’s no reason that should be so hot.” You murmured, slipping your hand inside his soiled boxers. You didn’t care if it was dirty, you needed to touch him. Lewd sounds quickly filled the room as you stroked his cock, pride swelling in your chest when he bucked into your touch.

“Wait.” He stopped you even as he rocked his hips once more. “I need to be inside you. Are you still on the pill?”

“IUD.” You said as you lifted your messy hand to your mouth and began to lap up his cum.

His jaw dropped as he watched you lick your fingers clean, eyes glazing over with lust. “Fucking hell…” He groaned, pulling back abruptly. He wasted no time in kicking off his pants and underwear, trying to clean himself at least a little before he rejoined you on the bed. “You’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”

“There’s worse ways to go.” You teased, pulling him down for another sloppy kiss. Your legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer in invitation. A string of saliva connected your lips when he pulled back, which you quickly leaned up and licked away, earning a soft curse. You leaned up once more to whisper in his ear as he lined up. “Fuck away all the bad feelings, Seonghwa. You promised.” Then you gently clamped your teeth on his earlobe, reveling in the choked noise he made.

“You’re a demon.” He hissed as he pressed in, gasping at how tight you felt. You whimpered at the stretch and tugged him closer, lip catching between your teeth. “So fucking tight for me, baby. So perfect.”

You moaned at his words, clenching involuntarily around him. You loved the praise and he knew as much now. He finally rocked his hips and you let out a soft whine at the friction. “You’re so big…” You moaned as you allowed yourself to fall back against the sheets, hair fanning out around your head in a halo.

Stars danced in his eyes as the sight of you beneath him. This was a religious experience and he was already in the clouds. And you were praising him? He felt like he might die if you continued to comment. Your approval was all he ever needed and to get the validation in bed too was enough to have him on edge. He was fighting hard to stay composed so was trying to distract himself with random thoughts but you were clouding his senses and he couldn’t focus on anything else.

He gave a deep thrust and you let out a reedy moan, guiding his hand to your chest so he’d thumb over your nipples. Instead of simply teasing, he pinched you and your eyes rolled back. “Harder.” You demanded, unsure of what you were referring to. Did you want him to pinch your nipples harder or did you want him to fuck you harder?

He couldn’t tell either but gladly did both, relishing the sound you made. “You like that?”

“So much.” You nodded enthusiastically. “Need more. Please?” You pleaded, gasping when he pinched your nipple again.

“So impatient.” He tutted. “I love it. You’re so desperate for me that you can’t wait. How cute.” He continued, his hand sliding up to your throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll train you to be patient.” His smile darkened as he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, cutting off blood flow. His hips slowed and you whimpered but he briefly tightened his grip in warning. “Be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?” You nodded furiously and he snapped his hips forward, knocking the air from your lungs. “Good girl.”

You weren’t on this planet anymore. You weren’t even in this universe. The whole ordeal was so hot that you were in your own world, focused only on the pleasure and the oddly-comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

“Open.” He demanded suddenly and your jaw instantly fell slack. “So obedient.” He cooed as he leaned closer before pursing his lips. Oh god is he about to do what I think? Fuck. You gripped his wrist as he spit into your mouth, a pathetic noise slipping out. “Swallow.” You did so eagerly, your entire body spasming at how hot it was. His jaw dropped at the way you suddenly clenched around him and he quickly pulled out, cumming across your thighs. “Fucking hell, baby. You like it that much? Fuck.” He panted as he stroked himself through his high, groaning when you nodded and reached to rub tight circles over your clit to guide yourself through your own orgasm.

He looked stunning like that. His jaw hung slack, his eyes half-lidded from the intense pleasure. He looked fucked out. He looked so fucking beautiful. He was art.

“Please.” You whispered breathlessly. “One more. Need to cum one more time. Need you to cum one more time. Please?” You begged, vision whiting when he squeezed your throat again.

“So needy, baby. Want me to fuck you so dumb you drool? Is that it?” His tone was nothing but adoring even though his words were meant to sting a bit and your heart throbbed in your chest. Was this more than fucking away tension and animosity? “Flip over. Lemme see that perfect ass.” He pulled away and you quickly complied, wiggling your ass as soon as you were in position. “God- you’re so fucking perfect, y/n. So perfect.” He praised as he squeezed your soft flesh.

“Seonghwa…” You whimpered his name as you tried to push yourself back onto his cock. “I need you so bad. Please?”

“I can’t say no when you ask so nicely, baby.” He said as he lined up and pressed into you. “Fuck- this pussy was made for me, pretty. Feels so fucking good.” He breathed, setting a rough pace from the start. His hips slapped against your ass as he plowed into you, driving you into the mattress.

You couldn’t help but cry out when he slammed into you so hard he knocked you forward. Your knees would be so irritated from the position and the way the sheets rubbed against your skin but you couldn’t care less. You simply wanted to feel him. He was all you needed at the moment.

He suddenly pulled you up from where your face was buried in the sheets and wrapped his hands around your throat for leverage. “You take my cock so well, sweetheart. Like you were made for it. Were you made for me?”

“Yes!” You gasped, jolting when he brushed your cervix. “Yes, I was made to take your cock and anything you give me.”

Lewd sounds filled the air as he repeatedly slammed into you, your mess running down your thighs to mingle with his. You’d need new sheets brought in by the time you were done. You almost felt bad for the housekeepers who would service your room later this afternoon. Almost. You couldn’t feel too bad with Seonghwa balls-deep inside you.

“You’re gonna make me cum.” He warned suddenly as he released your throat and you bit your lip hard. “Where do you want it, baby? I’m already so close.”

“Everywhere.” Your request was simple and it drove him over the edge. He pulled out as he came, covering your ass and thighs with his release. His breathing grew ragged as he allowed the pleasure to overwhelm him and he let out what was easily the sexiest sound you’d ever heard a man make, his voice pitching low in a way that made you clench around nothing.

Before you could reach between your legs to finish yourself off, he was back inside you and working faster than before, even as he began to get overwhelmed from the pleasure. He could feel you tensing with your impending orgasm and he wanted to be the one to send you over the edge one last time before you had to go shower again. “Don’t you dare touch yourself, baby. I’m gonna make you cum. Understood?”

You nodded quickly, thighs beginning to tremble from the sensation overtaking your body. “Yes! ‘M so close, Hwa. Please make me cum. Please!” You begged and he immediately reached around to toy with your clit. Tears sprung into your eyes at the pleasure flooding your body and fire spread beneath your skin.

“I can feel you trembling, pretty. Why don’t you just let go? Cum all over my cock, baby.” He coached and you couldn’t fight it anymore. A cry ripped from your throat and tears began to roll down your cheeks as your final orgasm crashed into you. “That’s right. Just like that.” His deep voice spurred you on as he tangled a hand in your hair, pulling just hard enough for the most delicious sting to spread out over your scalp. “Good girl.” You let out a choked sob at the name, delirious from the pleasure and gratification.

As you slowly came down from your high, he gently released your hair and smoothed his hands down your back. “You did so well for me, sweetheart. So perfect.” You whimpered softly at the praise as you collapsed against the mattress. He slipped out of you and immediately laid beside you, still rubbing your back with one hand. “You okay?” He asked as soon as he saw your tears. You nodded weakly, utterly spent. “Words, baby.”

“I’m okay. That was just…intense.” You murmured, suddenly exhausted.

“It was.” He agreed quietly, reaching to brush your hair back from your face. After several beats of silence, during which he took his time admiring you and playing with your hair, he spoke again. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

Your cheeks heated up and you fought the urge to hide your face. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded so you continued. “Earlier you said my skirt was driving you crazy. How long? You didn’t answer me before.”

“Too long.” When you didn’t respond, he let out a soft sigh and began to explain. “I always felt like shit for it but I've wanted you since day one. The moment we met, I knew I needed you. And seeing you in that damned skirt week after week drove me absolutely insane.”

“Why would you feel like shit for that?”

“Because we were friends. I shouldn’t have wanted you the way that I did. They always say women can’t have male friends because they all wanna sleep with you and I felt like I was only proving that right and risking our friendship.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I’ve always found you insanely attractive too and have had my fair share of untoward thoughts.” You grinned and he let out a soft laugh. After a few beats of silence you spoke again. “I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why the fuck did you have those chocolates on this trip in the first place?”

“We should get cleaned up.” He hummed as he sat up, clearly not wanting to answer. He had a secretive smile on his face and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re such a pain.” You sighed in exasperation. “Just tell me.”

“Well I hadn’t anticipated being the one helping you with it but I did plan to inconvenience you a bit.” He laughed and you sat up to chuck another pillow at him.

“You’re such an ass.”

“I’m your ass though.” Your cheeks pinked at the thought and you nodded slowly, liking the idea more than you’d anticipated.

“Yeah. I guess you are.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Running To You 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister series to Just What I Needed

Summary: You’re rescued by a man who you don’t even know is a real hero.

Characters: nomad Steve Rogers

Note: a stressed out steve rogers plus a cutie. it bloomed from the theory of Steve’s beard being a symbol of his darker side, or a darker state of mind. In the wat that he would usually pride himself on a neat appearance but lets himself go a bit when he’s not at his best.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The door hits the frame, waking you from a fraught slumber painted with dreams of sludgy shadows. You sit up and the cot rocks slightly, knocking on the wall as you steady it. Your heart races before you recognise Steve and the night before comes flooding in. The smell of jasmine is still overwhelming.

Steve sighs and jiggles the handle. He keeps trying to make the door stick. You rub your eyes as you turn your legs over the edge of the cot.

"Is it broken?" You ask.

"Looks like. Didn't even notice last night," he lets it go and faces you. "With everything else... good thing I stayed."

"Um, yeah. Thanks," you scratch your shoulder. "Sorry you had to sleep on the floor."

"No problem. Like I said, could be worse. You could be seriously hurt."

"Uh, I guess," you stand up. Your shorts stick and you tug the legs free from between your thighs. You should put on real clothes. "I'll call the landlord."

"You said it took him a while before to fix it." He tuts.

"Sure but, this is worse, I'm sure he'll come right away," you shrug. "You've done enough. Really. I feel bad."

His eyes wander around and his forehead creases. "I can fix the door. I'd rather make sure it's done."

"Steve--"

"It's easy. Won't take much."

"Well, er, Steve, I appreciate that but I have some stuff to do."

"Oh yeah? I can help," he offers.

You sigh. "No, you shouldn't. I-- I already feel awful waking you up--"

"You'd feel worse if you didn't," he insists. He grips his hips as he stares you down. "I still mean what I said last night. This place isn't safe for you."

"There's people worse off."

"I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you."

You shrug. He's impossible to argue with but you know he means well. You appreciate that he worries yet you feel bad for the same thing.

"I gotta take these packages down to the post office." You change the subject.

"Great, I'll go with you," he says.

You look at him. "If you want. I'll get dressed."

"Mind if I try to freshen up in the bathroom?" He asks.

"Erm, sure."

You open the small set of drawers next to your cot. You take out a pair of denim capris and a square neck tee. The bathroom door clicks and you check to make sure he's gone. You quickly change then look around.

Your phone. Last night, you never went to find it. It fell out in the hall during your struggle with Mike. You chew your thumb as you look at the door. You're nervous at the thought of seeing him again.

You grab your purse instead and check your wallet. There's that at least. You take out your rolling cart and focus on filling it with the small packages.

Steve emerges. "Your turn."

"Oh, yeah," you smile and cross the apartment. "Thanks."

You flit past him into the bathroom. You wash your face, brush your teeth, moisturize. You tidy your hair and skip the mascara, only smearing on a layer of gloss.

As you come out, Steve stands at the small kitchenette. He shuts the mostly empty cupboard. You cringe.

"You looking for something?" You ask.

"I was going to try to make you breakfast," he turns and leans on the short counter.

"Oh don't worry about that."

"Clearly you're not. There's a can of beans and half a bag of rice in there." He rebukes.

You wince, "Steve, I'm fine. I don't eat breakfast."

"And is that a choice or a necessity?"

You huff and hug yourself. "You're making me feel bad."

"I'm not meaning to. I'm concerned." He once more frames his hips in disapproval.

"It's nice that you care, really. It's just food."

"How much does it cost to do all this? You breaking even on that pine soap?" He wonders.

"I do okay. I keep the lights on," you march to the cart and shoulder your purse. "I have to get this in the mail or I won't get paid."

He sucks his teeth but doesn't argue further. He nears and puts his hand on the cart handle next to yours. "At least let me get this."

"Uh, okay," you crinkle your nose. The smell of jasmine is starting to really bother you. It almost smells like burning plastic.

You go out into the hall. You glance around but don't see our phone. If it wasn't smashed, it was probably snatched. Steve rolls the cart out and turns to the door. He uses one of the mixing sticks you use to jam it shut.

"It will have to do. There a hardware store near here? I'll grab the lock while we're out."

"Sure. On the way back," you say.

He follows you outside. The cart rattles loudly. Your nerves too.

You're embarrassed. He's seen more of your life than anyone has. He just doesn't get it. You'd rather scrape by on your own then go back to before. The idea of another boss breathing down your neck, feeling up your skirt-- No, that's not going to happen.

"You okay?" He asks, startling you out of your gloom.

"Oh, yeah. Thinking."

"About last night? Mike?" He suggests.

"A little. More about the candles I wanna make with the beeswax I ordered." You drone. "Oh, and reusable food wrap."

"Huh," he clucks. "You got a lot of ideas."

"I like making things. It's peaceful."

"Fair. I always enjoyed drawing." He says. "Before... well, it's been a while."

"Really? You draw?"

"Novice at best," he snorts.

"Hey, Rogers, how's it goin', guy?" A man passes by and salutes. Steve offers him a tense smile and his throat bobs.

You look back as the man struts on. That was strange.

"You know him?" You ask.

He shakes his head, "can't remember from where."

"Oh, yeah, that's always awkward."

You continue down the block and make your way to the post office. You hold the door as Steve pulls in the cart. He brings it to the counter and helps you unload the labeled parcels. The employee behind the counter scans them.

"New customs policy, there's an amount owing, miss," the clerk stands at the till. "Two-hundred and seventy three."

"What? I paid online? How can they change?" You squeak.

"I don't make the prices," he shrugs.

"Oh..." you blink. You don't have that much money. You don't even have two dollars and seventy three cents."

"No problem," Steve reaches into his back pocket. "American Express?"

"Yes, sir," the clerk stares at Steve before he points to the swipe machine.

"No, Steve--"

Too late. The machine chirps as his payment goes through. He slides the card away and tucks his wallet into his pocket.

"Receipt?" The clerk asks.

"Sure," Steve waits then takes the slip. "Have a good day."

"You too, Cap."

The reply tugs at your brain. Cap? That's an odd epithet.

You leave the post office, stewing in a new boil of humiliation. He just had to do that. You wring your hands behind your back anxiously.

"Thanks for that. I'll pay you back."

"Oh, you will. And I know exactly how," he declares. "You are going to eat a proper breakfast."

He points across the street to the small diner on the corner.

"No, that's not--"

"That's what I want. Fair trade."

"You must think I'm a real loser," you murmur.

"I don't. I think you're in hard times but a little help isn't a bad thing," he counters. "Besides, I'm trying to show you I'm listening. You want this business to work so I'm making an investment. Because I trust you." He reaches up with his free hand and touches his beard. "And I know you make quality stuff."

🩷

You walk out of the diner with leftovers. Breakfast was much more than you expected and you hate to waste food. Steve drags the cart with no uneaten bounty of his own. A man his size could easily clear at least another plate.

"Thanks, Steve. That was really good," you preen.

"I like the local places. You can tell they use real ingredients."

"Oh, yeah," you agree. If only he knew the amount of ramen you eat...

"Coffee's decent too. That's what really gives it away," he continues on. "Oh, the hardware store, where was that?"

"Not far," you assure him.

You guide him to the small shop with a bunch of plants outside and a spinning rack of seeds. You go inside, single file as the narrow aisles crowd Steve's large figure. He finds the right section and browses intently. He grabs a handle and a deadbolt. You mull the price tags. That's another line in the ledger.

He pays. Again. You don't even try to pretend you can. He's probably already figured you out.

Back on the street, you're hit with the stench of smoke. You scrunch up your face and look at Steve. He lifts his nose.

"Fire," he says.

"Oh... no." Sirens blast by you as a fire truck honks. Traffic honks back, inconvenienced by the emergency. You watch the big red engine turn the corner, toward you building. "Must be close by."

"Must be," he says as you cross the street.

The cart bounces, empty so it jars over each crack. As you come in sight of your building, your heart plummets. The fire engine is right in front of the apartment. The thick grey smoke billows up from the windows, curling around the brick walls.

"No," you gasp and hurry forward. "It can't be."

"Hey, sweetheart, don't get too close," Steve grabs your arm. "Smoke inhalation is dangerous."

"My apartment! My stuff!" You squeal and drop the container, fighting him to no end. He's strong. Inhumanly so. You look at his hand. "Steve, let me go."

"I can't. You'll get hurt."

"I'm not going to go inside. I'm not stupid."

"Let them work. They're the only ones who can do anything," he argues. "You'll just be in the way."

You pout. He's right. That doesn't make this any easier.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he clings to you.

You shake your head and gape up as flames lick outside and furl around the brick. You stagger and press your palms to your cheeks. Even if they do put out the fire, it's too late. After last night, you just can't believe this. Why does everything have to go so wrong?

🩷

"They'll have to keep investigating. That much damage, they can't permit entrance," Steve explains from your vantage.

You stay clear of the other residents, crowded around the firemen and other emergency personnel. They're a hoard, raging at the innocent. You're upset but not angry.

"It's a structural hazard. Same as you need a permit and inspections according to the building code," he continues on. "These things..." he sighs.

You drop your head. You stare at your shoes. You almost laugh. What a waste of time. The profit you make from those packages won't make a dent in surviving this. If you hadn't been so adamant about getting them shipped, you might have been able to save your apartment, or at least a few things.

"I got room. You can crash with me."

"Steve..." you utter.

"Well? Unless you got somewhere else?"

"No," you confess weakly. "I don't."

He's quiet for a moment. "Sorry. I know how that feels and that's not what I meant. But you got me now, doll. Not everything is lost, right?"

"Cap?" A fireman approaches. "Hey, you here about the fire? You hear something?"

Steve's jaw ticks and he looks over tersely at the man in his heavy helmet. "No, I--"

"This isn't some terrorist stuff, is it?" The fireman asks. "I mean, why else they sending you?"

"I was passing by," Steve twitches. "I'm not working right now."

"Ah, gee, I'm sorry. I just figured..." the man looks between you. "Sorry for bothering."

Steve purses his lips and rolls his eyes. He's irritated. You fidget next to him.

"Sorry, about that--" he begins.

"Are you a fireman?"

He shakes his head as his mouth slants. "Not exactly. I... I deal with emergencies though."

"Right..." You think. There's something you're missing and it feels so obvious.

"Mama," a child's voice trickles through. "It's Captain America."

You peek over to a young child points in your direction. You look back at Steve as he rubs the back of his neck. He smiles sheepishly.

"Really, I'm just Steve," he says.

[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Reader/You

WARNINGS/TAGS: Running away, mentions of rituals and sacrifices, adoptive yandads, polyamorous yandads, violence, implied death (no one serious), gender neutral reader, immortality, platonic/parental yandere, infantilization

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Polyamorous dads! <3 I've kind of rushed this near the end, but I've been dealing with some writer's block, so please excuse it ^^; let me know if there are warnings I forgot!

Several years ago, when you were still a child, you had been chosen as a sacrifice to give your village mercy from four powerful Gods, all for a more plentiful harvest. This choice wasn't made willingly on your part.

In fact, you weren't even asked! You were just plucked up from your bed and shoved into the ceremonial temple where offerings were to be taken.

You remember being terrified when you saw the Gods' faces, thinking it was time for your inevitable demise. But that never happened.

Instead, the deities decided you were far too precious to be eaten, and the next thing you knew, they had started raising you as their child.

Autumn has always been the calm and collected one of your parents. He's always there to give you good advice, and amazing food, especially baked goods. It's easy for you to tell him anything and everything.

Winter is quiet most of the time, but is probably the most cuddly. He's always worrying about your comfort, always making sure you've got warm enough clothes on during winter, or tucking you in with extra blankets.

Spring is clingy beyond belief. He hates not being able to be around you, or see you. He cries very easily if he doesn't know where you are. And he loves spending time with you, and gossiping with you.

Summer likes giving piggyback rides, and play fighting with you. He's definitely the most extroverted out of all four of your parents.

Life with them hasn't been too bad over the years, all things considered. Sure, they're all very protective of you, but you know they'll do anything for you at any time.

Now that you're old enough to live away from them though, you feel that things need to change. You want freedom, to have your own life.

The problem is, convincing Autumn, Winter, Spring, and Summer about that is easier said than done.

They like having you all to themselves, after all, so why would they let you leave the nest?

Since Autumn is the easiest to talk to, you nervously approach him as he rakes the yard of leaves. A gust of wind makes some fall back down onto the ground anyway, and you see him sigh deeply, looking quite irritated, until he looks at you.

He immediately softens his gaze at the sight of you, smiling. "Hello, dear! What can I help you with?"

"Um...hey..." You kick at the leaves a bit with your feet, avoiding eye contact with him. "I actually wanna talk with you..." His expression immediately turns worried. "It's nothing that serious! It's just... I think you'd overreact the least."

"I'm listening." Autumn gestures towards one of the garden benches nearby for you to sit, which you do so.

Taking a deep breath first, you try to organize your words. "So... I've been thinking a lot lately..."

"Yes?" Autumn says gently, setting down his rake and sitting next to you. His brows are furrowed, still clearly worried.

"Well, you see, I really appreciate you and everyone else raising me all these years, but..." you hesitate, trying to get the rest of what you need to say out before it hurts his feelings. "I want to be like the other humans, and start living on my own, being more independent... stuff like that."

He blinks slowly as he processes what you just told him. Then suddenly, without saying anything, Autumn stands up, grabs the rake again, and continues gardening.

This... was a surprisingly neutral reaction.

But then again, Autumn never gets mad.

"...Papa? Did you hear me?" you ask cautiously, watching him scoop up the scattered leaves into neat piles.

"I did."

"...and?" Now you're standing, feeling offended by the lack of response.

"And I don't have any response to give."

"You... don't have... any response to give...?" you repeat incredulously. This wasn't going how you wanted it to at all! "Well, I... uh, figured that since you were the most level-headed, that you wouldn't be upset about this!"

"I never said I was angry with you."

His nonchalant attitude makes you frustrated, especially since Autumn still isn't looking at you. "Let me guess: disappointed?"

Autumn finally looks up from what he was doing. "I suppose I'm just... shocked. I can't wrap my head around the fact my child would rather be with humans than with their parents."

"I'm human too," you mutter.

"Yes, but we chose to raise you, keep you safe, nurture you." There's an edge to Autumn's voice now. "You can't possibly want to waste your time among people who didn't even want you in the first place?"

Ouch. He hit you where it hurt, bringing up that you had been a sacrifice.

You glare at your Godly parent. "Don't bring that up, it isn't fair."

"Well, it's true. And now that you're grown, I refuse to lose you. Because I love you dearly," Autumn replies, staring at you intently, the golden sheen in his eyes seeming brighter than normal. "And you will not be leaving us so long as I have something to say about it. That's final."

Before you can protest, he walks back into the house. Feeling annoyed, you head back inside yourself.

If Autumn is saying no, you decide maybe Winter will be more understanding. Just getting permission from one of them should be enough...

You find Winter out on the patio, drinking coffee, as per usual. You're not sure why he does, given he's so tired that even caffeine doesn't make much difference for him, but he seems to enjoy the flavor enough.

When you walk towards him, he gives you a sleepy smile. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hey, Mom." The way he looks at you, like you're his whole world, almost makes you want to abandon your plan entirely. Almost. "Um, is it okay if we talk? About something sort of... well... serious?"

Winter frowns, looking very worried already, but he nods. "Alright..." As he sets down his mug on the little glass table, his fingers shake, something they always do when he's nervous or uncomfortable. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, nothing like that! I promise," you quickly add on, sitting down across from him.

"That's good," Winter breathes a sigh of relief, calming down some. "Then what's wrong?"

Gazing up at Winter's gentle face, you wonder how exactly to go about telling him, so as not to break his heart. Especially since he tends to internalize things far too much.

But after thinking through how best to phrase it, you end up spitting the truth out, unadulterated. "I want to move out."

"What?" Winter's voice cracks on that simple word, pain flashing across his features.

Ugh, that's such a guilt trip. You look away awkwardly. "It's nothing personal, I just want... freedom."

"How am I supposed to take care of you? How will I protect you?" he asks frantically. "Are you unhappy here? If so, I'll fix whatever's wrong. Anything. Did I do something?"

You groan softly. He's taking this worse than Autumn, but not quite how you predicted it either. "It's not that. Really! But... I'm human. I won't live forever like you guys." When you reach out to gently grasp his hand, he recoils. That stings, but you forge onward, determined to make your point. "I just want to make memories while I'm young, instead of... cooped up in here!"

"It's exactly because of your mortality that makes me even more terrified," Winter rasps. "You shouldn't be doing dangerous things. That's what your parents are supposed to prevent." He swallows thickly before continuing, eyes wet with unshed tears. "What would we do without you?"

"I'm going to die eventually," you argue, to which Winter dramatically gasps. "What? I'm stating a fact!"

"Please don't say such cruel things." His voice is barely above a whisper. "I'd rather we stopped having this conversation altogether, in fact."

"You can't avoid this!" You stand when he does. "Please, just... try to understand!" You grab onto his arm desperately. "Mom, please."

At your sad expression, and your soft begging, Winter wavers some. His gaze shifts to the floor. "Even if the others agree to it, which they won't... I won't allow this. I'm sorry."

You groan, sitting back down and burying your head in your hands.

So he's against the idea as well. Of course.

"Kiddo, what the hell happened?" Summer asks, having just witnessed his husband come inside crying.

"I didn't mean to make him cry," you mutter.

"Of course I know that. He's sensitive like your Mama, but that doesn't change what I asked." He sits down next to you, not looking angry. Just concerned. "Wanna tell me what went on with you two?"

You don't even have the energy to beat around the bush anymore. "I want to move out."

Summer's jaw tenses visibly. He frowns. "Oh, yeah?"

"Papa already said no, so did Mom," you explain tiredly, slumping over the table, feeling defeated already. "And I already know what Mama will say, he's the most predictable." And he probably heard the conversations both times from wherever he is inside the house, crying somewhere with Winter now. "Dad, please tell me you understand."

There's silence. Your father inhales deeply through his nose. "Actually, yeah."

Hope blossoms in your chest. He's going to let you leave? This could be your ticket out!

"But," Summer continues, much to your heartbreak, "under no circumstances am I gonna let that happen."

"...what? You literally just agreed with me!"

"Not quite, sunshine," he says. "I do understand wanting independence and all that stuff. But you're my baby, and you will never stop being my baby. I love you so much. If something happened to you, I'd lose my shit—excuse my French. So, unfortunately, I won't be helping you out."

Just like that, your hope is destroyed. "I only live once, I told Mom this too. I don't want to spend all my life here."

"Kid, please, don't make us sound like we're keeping you locked away," Summer murmurs. "Hey, if you want space, I can help build an extension to the house for you. I'm sure everyone else will prefer that over you wanting to move too."

"No!" you shout, surprising Summer with your sudden shift in attitude. "That isn't the fucking point! You are keeping me locked away!"

"What?"

"I haven't had contact with anybody besides you four since I was, like, eight! It isn't fair!"

The man glares at you. "Don't talk to me like that."

"You aren't my dad! None of you are my mom or dad! You're Gods, and you decided to raise me yourselves because... why?! Because you were lonely? You wanted to play house?!" You stand up suddenly, feeling your heart pounding harder than it ever has in your entire life. "I am sick and tired of it all, Dad!"

You know you're out of line. But you're so frustrated that you can't see straight.

Summer stands up as well, staring directly into your eyes. "(Y/n), watch that tone. I don't want to ground you."

"Ground me then! It's not like I'm allowed to go anywhere anyway!" You stomp inside, and Summer doesn't follow you.

When you slam the door shut, you turn to see Autumn, Winter, and a now crying Spring on the couch. Great, just your luck. They heard everything. Spring especially looks miserable.

"Why are you all here?" you question angrily.

Autumn is the first to speak. "I think you know the answer to that."

Spring is quick to hug you. "Why were you saying those things?! Was I a bad Mama?" he sobs, burying his face in your hair.

Sometimes it isn't obvious they have no clue what parenting is supposed to be like, and moments like these make it show. Spring is definitely the hardest to stay mad at.

Though it hurts to push him away when he's crying, you do it anyway, letting him look at you through tears and horror.

"Because none of this is fair!" you snap at all of them. "I hate feeling like a bird trapped in some gilded cage!"

"This is for your protection, (Y/n)," Autumn sighs. He gets off the couch and tries approaching you cautiously, hands raised like you're some wild animal. "We love you."

"You don't love me. You just want to own me like some kind of pet," you retort. "If you really loved me, you would want me to be happy."

"And we want you to live, too!" Winter snaps. "I'm sorry if that is a higher priority to us than anything else."

"Well, guess what?! I'm gonna die eventually, no matter if I stay here for the rest of my life or not!" You storm off, Spring's louder cries and Winter's softer ones fading out as you run to your bedroom.

...

A few hours later, you come downstairs, having calmed down a bit more, though you're worried about seeing your guardians again.

You shuffle into the kitchen, where you see Autumn preparing lunch. Not seeing the others, you walk up to him sheepishly.

"Hi, Papa."

"Hm? I thought you didn't see any of us that way now." His tone of voice is cutting, but you can tell it's hiding a lot of hurt. That's worse than how harsh he's acting towards you.

You sniffle. "I'm sorry. Please don't be mad."

Autumn immediately stops cooking when he sees you crying. He comes over, wiping your tears away carefully, like you'll break beneath his fingertips. "Oh... pumpkin, don't cry."

"I didn't mean to upset everybody like I did," you choke out through hiccups. "I hate fighting."

He sighs softly, wrapping you in his strong arms, bringing you close enough that you can hear his heartbeat, and laying a kiss upon the top of your head. "Me too."

Soon enough, you apologize to Winter, then Spring, and lastly Summer. Thankfully, each and every one of them forgive you, even if they disagree with what you want.

Yet truth is, you aren't sorry. You just want as little as tension as possible.

...

Ever since that day, you thought about escaping, but were always held back because... well, it's hard to have much time to yourself to even think about it, when there's four overprotective Gods who consider you their baby.

Not to mention if you tried escaping in daylight, there would be no chance you would get far at all. Autumn and Spring are almost always tending to the garden, Summer is always doing yard work, and Winter... well, sometimes he just likes to stand outside and drink his coffee or hot cocoa.

But you begin thinking maybe, just maybe, during the nighttime, you'll have a better chance at getting away.

After all, it's getting to the point where you feel like you'll suffocate if you stay in this place for a second longer. The desire to be independent is stronger than anything you've experienced.

You wait until late at night, when you think your parents are asleep, which takes forever.

Then you slip out of bed, creeping across your bedroom and out into the hallway.

Every step makes a loud creak in the silence.

It's eerie, the sensation of knowing nobody's around except for your guardians, who might wake at any moment.

Once you finally reach the front door, you take one last glance behind you. Maybe you're wondering if you should just turn back.

Everyone would be devastated. Spring and Winter would probably spend the rest of their lives bawling, while Summer and Autumn would tear apart the world until they find you again.

Is it worth the trouble?

...well, yeah. If you don't do something, you might go crazy. These people love you more than life itself, but it's constricting nonetheless.

So, with that final thought, you quietly open the door, slipping outside and closing it once more, not daring to breathe in case you're discovered.

...

That night, you sleep at an inn in the nearest town. It takes hours to walk there, and your legs are tired by the end, but the sense of accomplishment that you managed to escape in the first place keeps you from completely breaking down.

You're pretty sure you know they discovered you're gone, because early in the morning a raging snowstorm happens. It's December, so you can tell Winter is beyond upset.

For all the other villagers' sake, you leave before one of them can tear down the entire town trying to find you.

...

Traveling is hard, you soon discover.

Your money runs out quickly, and without the means to earn more, it's almost impossible to find a place. You miss your comfortable bed. Hell, you miss having food readily available for you whenever you want.

What you wouldn't give to have Autumn's amazing cooking or pastries, or Winter's warm cups of cocoa in this chilly weather.

Unfortunately, you can't afford those luxuries now.

In fact, it gets so difficult to pay for rent at a motel that you end up sleeping outside more often than not.

Around the second week, you notice damage happening around you because of you, no doubt. Each village you go to, you hear how the one you had just left was wiped out. You don't need to guess by who.

Even the land around you is decaying. Everything from trees to animals, all dying. People everywhere are suffering.

And it's all because of you.

...

Almost a full month goes by, and it doesn't stop, but you realize with horror that they'll never just let this go. What's a month to you is nothing to beings with thousands of years worth of existence already lived.

The next village, you finally decide this isn't a battle worth fighting anymore. That it's better to give up than to keep causing everyone around you to suffer.

You begin your trek back home.

...

It's the middle of the night when you arrive. There are lights coming from the windows, indicating someone must be awake still. The rest of the landscape looks dead.

You swallow dryly, raising a hand and knocking. Before you can get too worked up about the situation, the door opens, revealing Spring.

He has dark bags under his red-rimmed eyes, looking more disheveled than he's ever been. Tears are quick to flood his eyes, and he claps a trembling hand over his mouth when he sees you.

Then he yanks you into his arms, cradling you close to his chest.

The entire time, he cries incoherently, and you think you hear apologies amongst his sobbing. Spring only pulls away to hold you at arm's length, taking in your neglected appearance.

"Oh, honey," he gasps out between hyperventilation. "Oh, look at you...!"

Before you can explain, you're led inside, the warmth of the interior making you want to collapse right then and there. Instead, Spring brings you over to the couch, setting you down so gently that it feels like he thinks you're made of glass.

He sits down next to you, rubbing circles along your back. "Does anything hurt?" Spring frets. "Oh, baby, you must've been through so much..."

The pressure becomes too much for you. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, stress, and emotion, you burst into tears. Spring doesn't say anything, just continues trying to comfort you.

"Mama," you sob. "Where's everyone else?"

"They went out looking for you, like they have every single day since you disappeared," Spring explains with a shaky sigh.

You feel awful for what you've done. The self-hatred gnaws at you, refusing to let you go.

He holds you for another hour, before the other three are bursting through the front door.

Each of them looks as equally exhausted and broken as Spring. Like they haven't slept properly in days. It hurts seeing them so miserable because of you.

Yet it's short-lived, because as soon as they all realize you're sitting on the couch with Spring, you're pulled into hugs.

Like with Spring, they seem afraid you'll shatter, like cracked porcelain that could break at any second if dropped, yet durable enough to be squeezed just enough.

They all take turns examining you, fretting over your condition. Autumn immediately heads into the kitchen, probably to make you dinner. Spring leaves as well to get pajamas and new clothing ready for you.

Meanwhile Winter and Summer keep holding you.

"How did you survive?" Winter asks, sniffling. "Oh, sweetheart."

"That doesn't matter," Summer whispers, rocking the three of you back and forth slowly. "All that matters is our kid is okay."

All that you can think about is guilt. Mostly for the endless amount of lives they surely ended looking for you. You wish you thought this through sooner, but a part of you had hoped they'd give up after awhile.

"I'm tired," you mutter.

Winter smiles weakly at that. "Dinner is almost ready. We'll let you sleep right after."

You nod numbly.

...

The next day, you wake up cuddled between Spring and Summer. It's funny, usually they're the first ones to rise.

You hear talking from the kitchen, wriggling your way out of their arms before exiting your bedroom, following the sound of the voices. They belong to Autumn and Winter, coming from the dining room.

"...we've been putting it off for too long. If they could handle these past few days, I know they're ready." Autumn. "Don't you want this, too?"

"You're right. I just..." Winter. "We've never done this before, all we know its a painful and dangerous process. What if..."

"It's going to be fine, Winter." Autumn sounds surprisingly soft. "You know we're more than capable of helping them through it."

As quiet as can be, you listen in further, trying not to interrupt. It's odd to be eavesdropping, but they're clearly discussing something concerning you. How could you resist?

"I know." Winter exhales audibly. "I agree this needs to happen, I just doubt they'll like it."

"Better that than the alternative, don't you think?" Autumn hums.

There's a pause. "Of course I do, dear."

"I'm glad you see reason. They are our child, and as their parents, it's only natural to do this to ensure their safety forevermore."

Wait... what?

Your stomach drops, and you retreat back upstairs before you're found, hoping they didn't hear your presence.

Yet you aren't quite able to shake what you just overheard.

They plan on doing something to you, that much is clear. Though you still can't figure out what, exactly, the action might entail. They've never harmed you before. Never abused you in any way.

So why is this scaring you so badly?

Maybe the fear is irrational, but it still makes you queasy, sick with worry.

Later, when Spring and Summer are awake, you all sit down for breakfast together. Their expressions seem... forced. All four of them are acting differently around you.

They keep sharing looks amongst themselves. As if communicating telepathically.

No words need to be spoken aloud, and you wonder if perhaps they're giving each other confirmation of what they're planning to do.

If they know that you know, they don't bring it up.

In fact, nobody says anything for awhile.

Suddenly, Autumn clears his throat.

"So... (Y/n), honey... today... we have something important planned for you."

"What is it?" you ask hesitantly.

Everyone goes quiet, like looking for words, until Summer picks up where he left. "When you left, everyone was thinking about what you said. About, y'know, dying." He pauses to look at the other's in confirmation. "We don't want that, and I think deep down, you don't, either. And luckily for you, we have a solution. We didn't use it sooner, because it can easily backfire if you aren't old enough... but you are now."

"By doing what?" you press nervously.

It's Spring who speaks next. "Immortality. We can make you a God just like us." He smiles brightly. "Won't that be great? You can stay with us forever, be safe, protected from harm, never have to worry again about—"

You cut him off, feeling yourself panicking. "You want to force me to become like you?"

Spring looks heartbroken. "Are you saying you don't want to? Sweetie, humans would kill for a gift like this!"

"Yeah!" Summer exclaims. "It's a blessing."

"It's wrong!" you snap, earning a horrified look from Spring. "It's my choice to make."

"Why are you treating this like we're punishing you?" Summer says incredulously.

"It feels like it," you retort.

Winter interjects with his own two cents. "We're giving you eternal life. Safety. This is the only way you can live without ending up in danger. There is no downside to this."

"Yes there is," you murmur. "I don't want this!"

You try to scramble away, but suddenly there's vines wrapped around your ankles and wrists. With a cry, you fall to the floor.

"Papa!" you yell, pleading with Autumn to reconsider. To let you go. You pull at the vines fruitlessly.

Winter cups your cheek, guiding your face to meet his gaze. "I'm so sorry, sweetie," he whispers, sounding teary. "But I swear to you, we're doing this in your best interests."

Summer nods. "It'll hurt. A lot. But we'll take care of you afterwards." He reaches down to help lift you, while Winter brushes some of your hair out of your eyes. "Promise."

You whimper as your guardians guide you upstairs to another room, struggling the entire time to escape. But it's no use. You can barely move at all.

Autumn grabs an old book he had prepared, apparently. Its spine is nearly falling apart, like it hasn't been touched in years. You assume the magic for what they're about to cast lies somewhere in those pages.

"You'll be okay," Winter breathes. He holds your head to his chest, crying with you, alongside Spring. "This is only a one-time thing, I promise, honey." His voice breaks.

Spring blinks away his tears. "Please don't hate us," he whispers tearfully. "It hurts us, too."

Autumn opens the book and starts reading the incantation.

Immediately, a sharp jolt rips through your body. Your skin is burning from the inside. Every single nerve is alight with pain. You scream. Sobbing, you beg for the agony to stop, but it doesn't. If anything, the pain just gets worse and worse.

Through your screaming, you barely register Winter holding you tighter, or Autumn's voice breaking throughout his reading of the spell.

The pain is searing hot now, shooting straight through your bones.

"We're almost there," Spring chokes out. "It's okay, baby. We love you so much."

You try to breathe, but you can't get enough air. Your lungs are being ripped to shreds, filling with fire every time they expand.

Everything fades from view after that; black spots dancing across your vision, accompanied by ringing in your ears as unconsciousness claims you once more.

...

When you come to, you're still in pain. It's nowhere near as intense as earlier, but it still feels as if your body had been dipped in hot lava and freezing cold water at the same time. Your thoughts race wildly. The only sensation keeping you tethered to reality is the hand running up and down your back.

Finally, opening your eyes slightly, everything begins returning back to clarity.

Summer smiles at you sadly. "Hey, peanut."

The silly nickname always made you laugh, but now you can only stay still, limp in your dad's arms.

"Sorry you're still hurtin', bud. I know it's not a great feeling." He kisses your forehead. "At least we know that was the worst of it, yeah? Things can only get better from here."

You look up, flinching from the light hitting your eyes. Everything is blurry.

Winter and Autumn look back at you. They're relieved. Both of them smile when they see you staring at them.

"There you are. Welcome back to the waking world, pumpkin," Autumn smiles.

"We were so worried about you," Winter murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head.

Spring comes back with a tray of food and drink. When he notices you're awake, his expression morphs into pure joy. "My little angel! Are you alright? Can you speak, sweetie?"

All four Gods seem nervous for whatever response you have, if any at all.

Instead, you open your mouth and croak out: "Water."

Autumn wordlessly gets you a cup filled with ice chips, and guides you to sip from it gingerly.

Despite having your adoring, cooing parents surrounding you, all you feel is betrayal, hurt, and rage. You're too tired to get angry, though, so you just let your head fall against Summer's chest again.

"Go back to sleep, sunshine." Summer rubs your shoulder soothingly. "We gotcha."

The others nod and murmur their agreement.

You should fight it, insist you're fine, but they're right; you're exhausted. With one final huff, you pass out in Summer's arms.

[mallory524]

Hiii!! I'd like to request for john walker fic

I got this idea where reader and him, they just met but john wasn't going to approach or like her for some reason, but reader is just a good and kind person. but they have their first mission tgt (or they were both in the kitchen at the tower) and they got to know each other well (reader talked first, john was like 'i dont really care') butttt he noticed how much reader is similar like his friend lemar 🥹 she reminded of him sm so he tries to b close w her more!! just cute fluff ig

(OH MY GOSH STOPP I LOVE THIS IDEA)

reminders

john walker x reader

tags- fem!reader, walker's a bit distant at first, fluff, vague battle references

word count- 1459

notes- this is such a cute idea i'm dying i hope i did alright with it

John isn’t sure why you're working together.

The Thunderbolts had been assigned to break into take a look inside this weapon manufacturing plant and get to the bottom of all the shady stuff they've gotten into. Yelena said you should go in pairs. John figured he could go in alone, but she was insistent. She wanted him to go in with you.

John doesn't dislike you or anything. He respects you as much as he respects anyone else in the group. The seven of you have this weird unspoken bond after everything that happened with Valentina and the Void.

You and John just don’t talk very much. He isn't sure why. There's something about you … he doesn't know what it is. He just doesn't see you two becoming very close.

Not for a lack of trying on your part.

"John," you say quietly. "How much longer do you think we have to wait?"

"I don’t know. We’ll see when Bucky says the next level is all clear for us to check it out," he responds, adjusting his earpiece and never taking his eye off the hallway.

Obviously you knew you were waiting for the word from Bucky. You just wanted to break the silence.

The two of you have been waiting for instructions from your friends for probably 15 minutes and you’ve hardly spoken. No one’s even on this floor, so it's not like you're at risk of someone hearing you.

"Hey, do you ever think about getting a new shield?" you ask, gesturing to his shield. It's been a while since the Sentry folded it, and it's a bit funny looking, but John still continues to use it.

He thinks about it, and then finally turns to look at you. "Um... no, not really. It works enough for now," he says with a shrug.

"Yeah, I guess if it still works then you don't really have to replace it."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

John feels a bit awkward. He knows you're trying to start a conversation, but it keeps fizzling out. You're nice, though, so he tries to get it going again.

"I mean, maybe I'll get a new shield eventually. It did work better before."

"Have you tried to … like, unfolding it?"

He slowly nods and smiles a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I tried to. I didn't tell anyone because I … couldn’t do it."

"Really?" you ask him, trying to keep from laughing at the idea of John frantically trying to pull the shield back into shape. "I'm surprised. I would've thought with the serum and everything..."

"Yeah, well I guess the serum is no match for the Sentry." As he talks, he picks the shield back up and lazily pretends to fight with it.

You laugh softly and John looks away, smiling too and trying to ignore the way his heart flutters a little.

You really are the sweetheart of the New Avengers. That's sort of widely understood to be true. You're tough, but kind. You always seem like you love just being a part of it all. You, (and also Alexei), are like the beating heart of the team.

Maybe that's why John always felt like you and him wouldn't get along. The way he sees it, you're so naturally good, why would you want to be friends with him?

But you do. And he doesn't get why.

"Well, I kinda wish I'd been given the choice to take that serum," you tell him with a smile. "I know we've all got our own strengths or whatever, but you and Bucky and Alexei can help in a way the rest of us just can't."

John looks at you. Like actually looks at you and sees. You don't look sad or anything, you just look like you're really thinking about it and all the possibilities. What your life would be like. What you could do with less physical limitations.

"I mean, I get that," John tells you softly. "I willingly took the serum back when… you know, back in the day." He tries to ignore all the memories that are rushing back to him at once. Memories of the Captain America shield and the title and the press and the Flagsmashers and Lemar…

"Well I think it would be awesome. I know you said one time that it's pretty painful at first, but I think it'd be worth it. I'd be able to help so many more people if I had it. And I really could've used that in the past, you know? Like there was this one time-"

You continue talking, and it hits him.

Lemar.

Oh.

A small smile spreads across his lips. That's what it is.

You talk about the super soldier serum the same way Lemar did. With a lot of hope in your voice. Focused on how much more good you'd do if it had been made available to you.

But it's not just that one thing, it's also the look in your eyes. Something he couldn't put his finger on before. The way you smile. The way nothing ever seems to get to you. The way you always tease John, but defend him when you feel like the rest of the team is going too far with it. The way you always stop for anyone on the street who wants to talk to you, and how you always talk up your teammates while you're at it. You remind him so much of Lemar.

For a second it's like looking at a ghost.

You smile back at John. You're not quite sure what's going on with him, but you keep telling the story you were telling anyway.

The two of you go back and forth for about 10 more minutes before Bucky’s voice comes crackling over the comms.

“Get out of there.”

That sure isn't what either of you had expected (or wanted) to hear from him.

"Bucky, what about the-"

"Don’t worry about any of that now, abort mission, get out of there," Bucky cuts in, interrupting you.

Then it's silent again.

John looks at you again. You start to stand and he scrambles to his feet to follow.

"Okay get behind me," he says, pulling on his shield.

"John, come on, I’m-"

"Get behind me. Please." It's not a demand. He's begging you to let him protect you.

You're so caught off guard by the word "please" actually coming out of John Walker's mouth that you just nod. You prepare to watch out for threats from behind.

You quickly move to get out of the plant and rejoin your teammates. John is in front, more careful to shield you than himself. He spins his head around every time he hears a noise, convinced someone is trying to sneak up on you.

He knows that eventually you might start to question why he's acting more paranoid than ever before. If you were to tell him later that he shouldn't worry and that you can handle yourself, he’d just agree. Because it's true. He knows that. But he can't help it.

Obviously something went wrong on the other end with the rest of the team. Any other time, he wouldn’t be so worried about this. That’s why he likes going solo: he only has to worry about himself.

But no, Yelena partnered him up with you. Now, no matter what you could ever tell him, he feels like he's solely responsible for the both of you... and he's starting to realize that he really cares about you.

And of course you both get to safety. John wasn't about to let things get out of control. He couldn't. He can't. He failed Lemar. He’s not failing you. He can't do that again.

No one really understood what changed within Walker that day, but the difference was noticeable for anyone paying even a little attention.

Whatever he's snacking on, he offers you a little. If he's watching something, he asks if you want to watch with him. If you're watching something, he'll ask little questions from across the room until you ask him to join you.

Everyone's starting to tease him about "trying too hard", like a teenage boy who wants to get a pretty girl’s attention. Maybe he is. He doesn't really care. He feels bad that he didn't give you a chance before, and he's trying to make up for it now. He wants you to see that he cares. He wants you to see that he values this friendship as much as you do, no matter how new it might be, and no matter what direction it may end up going in…

And you do see. What the two of you are starting to have is pretty special.

<3

[hyuckhyukahansol]

Hold On, We're Going Home

────────────

"you don't even notice the click of him locking the door while he turns the lights off before he curls up behind you, chest to your back as he wraps his arms around you slowly. sensually. mark's breath fans on the back of your neck before he plants several slow kisses there, moving until he reaches right below the shell of your ear. all the while, his large, warm hands can't seem to to anything other than wander under your hoodie to caress your waist and stomach. you let out a breathy and quiet chuckle.

"babe, what are you doing?" you ask in a whisper.

"you know you're mine, right?" mark whispers into your ear, completely ignoring the question, yet answering it at the same time.

your skin heats all too quickly. you know exactly what this is. he's jealous. of what, you're really not sure.”

or

you're a popular soloist and your secret boyfriend is a kpop idol. when your Canadian tour dates line up, you both opt to stay at his parent's home in Vancouver, but even with his parents asleep downstairs, mark just can't seem to keep his hands off of you after your show.

tags -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈  idol!mark, soloist!reader, fem!reader, reader is american, porn with minimal plot, established relationship, childhood room, twin bed, missionary, jealousy, possessiveness, praise AND degradation, mentions of reader being small, ATTEMPTED quiet sex, sacrilege if you squint (theres a jesus on his wall), size kink if u squint, marks parents are mentioned but theres no dialogue with them because im not writing that, reader has her drivers license, implied that reader is not christian, reader's love language is being mean to mark, EXTREMELY unserious

nicknames ┇ his babe yours princess!! baby... etc

date started┇march 20 2025

date posted ┇march 28 2025

wc ┇4.4k

A/Ns ┇ nothing like a good "lets fuck on my childhood bed!" 

room based on the mark's homecoming teasers for firstfruit.

umm mark probably doesnt have a childhood bedroom in canada because he was like 13 when he left for sm and also he lived in new york before that so lets just pretend for the sake of the fanfic that he does ok? ok! >_<

in section 2 i mention bible study as a way for me to skate around actually writing meeting marks parents LMFAOOO um im unsure if this is a popular thing everywhere else but like i know in the south at least its like youth group but for older people where they'll have a like mini religion discussion thing? i dont know i havent been to church in several years and i'm atheist 😭 iykyk i guess

reader's dialogue is based off of me and im a very strange fella and i cannot be serious for one single second so its kind of bad 😭

FINAL NOTE im completely a virgin like ive never even kissed anyone LMFAO so if the smut seems inaccurate at all thats on me because i refuse to let a real obtainable man get that close to me 😆

────────────

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

01. prologue

"no way our tour dates line up." 

you were in disbelief when your boyfriend called late at night to inform you that you would both be in the same city at the same time and that it just so happened to be where his parents lived: vancouver.

you were tucked under your warm, plush duvet with an unnecessary amount of pillows under your head and you groan as you sit up from them, cold air hitting your newly exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its chilly wake.

"i'm serious dude, the company usually lets me visit my family when we go for canadian stops. i could see if i can stay at my parent's house for longer.. and you could come with me.." mark's voice got higher as he started adding to the equation. "and maybe you can stay.. and meet some people.."

"you're saying you want me to meet your parents?" you reply blankly, holding in a laugh at your boyfriend's shyness about asking. you lean back in your bed, cotton fabric sighing with effort.

"see? that's my girl, i knew you'd get it." your face heats at his words.

"oh dude you're flirting..." you quote him, earning a sound of annoyance from the other end of the call. you snicker.

"you actually have to stop watching those fan compilations." you giggle at how easily it both annoys and embarrasses him that you keep up with what he does at work.

"okay, i'll stop watching fan compilations of you when you delete your folder of edits of me" you offer jokingly through your fit of laughter.

he scoffs "that's out of the question." 

"okay then i guess i get to keep watching videos of you goofing off at work." 

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

02. the twin bed

several months ago, your boyfriend had asked you to meet his parents in person. both of you living in seoul and being music artists meant that trips home were few and far between, so it made sense that mark would ask you to meet his parents in real life once the finally opportunity arose after two years of only seeing them in 2160p on a facetime screen. mark would've asked sooner if he weren't swamped with schedules — between three groups and solo activities, it was near impossible to find any amount of time to fly home, let alone with a secret girlfriend who's schedule was just as packed as his.

both of your tours had already started and you really hadn't seen much of each other since. you were grateful for the large amount of time you had in vancouver: about three nights of time together before you'd each have to take your separate flights to different cities for the rest of your respective tours. you had your show the first night of the three-day stay and his was the night directly after. 

mark had taken a plane with the rest of 127 and you opted to take a completely different flight; it wasn't worth the trouble of having to deal with both of your own saesangs on one flight as well as risking being caught. since mark's plane departed earlier than yours, he arrived at his parent's house much earlier than you, having already unpacked what he needed and started catching up with his folks when you rang the doorbell on the single-family home. as you were marveling at the normalcy of the house, your boyfriend swung the door open, giving you a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"did your staff already leave?" mark asked after surveying the street outside and not finding any cars. you turn and look back over your shoulder quickly even though you know you won't find a car there either.

"yeah, dropped me off and then sped away." you answer as you step inside. mark closes and locks the door behind you. 

"well, after she got out of the passenger seat because i begged her to let me drive-"

"you drove?" your boyfriend cut you off, eyes wide and eyebrows raised so high that his forehead was wrinkled.

"pfft, yeah?" you roll your eyes dramatically.

"i have my license and i'm a big girl. got here in one piece and everything." you reassure the man as he takes your suitcase and carryon from you.

"dude, you have an american drivers license."

"ooookay? it's basically the same! y'all drive on the right side of the road too.." you playfully push mark's shoulder, pouting as you continue.

"i never get to drive in korea. can't drive on the right there." you switch from a playful pout to a curious expression. "where are mother lee and father lee?" you ask, using your favorite nicknames that his parents thought were so endearing and silly. mark chuckles before answering.

"they're at wednesday bible study, so we have some time to unwind before you have to mingle with anyone other than me." mark explains, walking towards to stairs that lead to the second floor of the house. "my room is upstairs. it hasn't been redecorated since i was, like, 13." 

"oh, how fun." you joke, beginning to walk up the stairs with your boyfriend following behind you. "can't wait to see all the.. um.." after a long pause, you stop at the top of the stairs and turn to face him. "i can't finish my insult because i have no clue what little canadian boys like."

mark laughs and you're sure if his hands weren't full he would start hitting you in his fit of laughter like he usually does, but instead he hunches over a little at the joke before directing you to the last door on your right. 

the room is small and littered with old books, cd cases, and cassette tapes, all lined up haphazardly on painted wooden shelves that were much taller than you, the freshest layer of brown paint peeling in worn spots to reveal the previous paint job done in teal. in the left corner, against the flaky yellow wallpaper, sat a red guitar and in the right corner there was a boombox on a shelf above a bed. on the right wall was a crucifix and ivory jesus stared down at the bed below it with its mismatched plaid duvet and sheets and more pillows than any one boy needs, all with different pillowcases on them, one checkered blue, another white with blue stripes, the other two in solid teal and red. it was cozy, but something irked you and it wasn't the carpeted floor or the popcorn ceiling.

"you didn't tell me it was a twin bed?" you exclaim, turning to mark who looked like he'd just seen a ghost. he makes his way past you into the room, speaking as he sets your bags on the beg and sits next to them.

"yo, listen: you can have the bed to yourself and i can have the floor if it makes you feel better" mark offers, trying to soothe you. you're still stood in the doorway, leaning against it now.

"i dont want your funky ass twin bed? id rather sleep on the cold kitchen floor downstairs." you complain, frustrated at the entire situation. "I don't want to sleep without you but also I'm not sure we'll both fit comfortably." you express. your boyfriend looks at you funny. 

"are you serious?" he starts, getting up from the bed and walking towards you, stopping when he's stood just close enough that you have to look up to meet his eye. "there's definitely enough room. we'll just have to cuddle." he explains. you look up at him through long lashes and pout. 

"i'm starting to think the reason you didn't tell me is because you just wanted an excuse to hold me all night." you accuse. mark holds his hands up in a way that says 'you got me.'

"well, usually you complain that i'm too warm and you end up moving away from me after i fall asleep." mark admits with a slight frown, dropping his hands to his side in order to hang his shoulders in an attempt to sulk. he looks so cute when he pouts, large dark eyes shining at you with a hint of an apology for withholding information. you push yourself off of the door frame in favor of draping your arms on mark's shoulders, fingers touching around the back of his neck.

"okay, but you do get super warm and you know i run hot too." you defend yourself. mark pits his hands on either side of your waist and cracks a smirk and you know he's thinking of a terrible joke.

"yeah, super hot." 

"ew, that's so corny." you scrunch up your nose, making a disgusted face and he giggles, leaning in to pepper your cheek with kisses that you can feel the smile in.

"you're making me reconsider my option of sleeping alone." you threaten, but he only wraps his arms around you and holds you tight instead as if to say that there's no way you can back out of it now. you accept defeat.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

03. the concert

mark's parents were just as kind in person as they had been over video call. they just couldn't stop telling you how you were so much prettier in person and how proud they were that mark had found "such a nice young lady." you told them how lovely their home is and thanked them for letting you stay. the meeting was brief since you had to get to your venue for sound check and other preparations, so when your staff arrived to pick you up and whisk you away to your job, you apologized and swore that you would talk more the next day, assuming they probably wouldn't be awake by the time you got back.

sound check was smooth and you enjoyed seeing your fans for the 45 or so minutes it lasted. afterwards, you had your makeup and hair done and put on your first outfit. you made sure to take ample selfies so you could choose what to post after the concert, what to send to bubble now, and what to send to mark since you had down time. 

you: [image]

markus 😒😋: my gorgeous gorgeous girl

you grin at your phone, face heating to the point you start to fan yourself. you giggle at your own incoming joke as you look through your camera roll for a video to send to your boyfriend. the video is a clip his fans like to use of him with a blush filter on his face. (you know the one)

you: [video]

markus 😒😋: yeah ok im blocking you now

you: NOOOOO ☹️ 

markus😒😋: too late. need to start being nicer to your boyfriend

you: but youre so cute when youre annoyed..

markus😒😋: your fans are like really loud by the way

you: ???

markus😒😋: [2 images]

markus😒😋: your number 1 fan

the images mark sends you are one of the stage you're supposed to be on in about an hour and the other is selfie of him, mask hat, and glasses on, in a seat at your venue.

you'd attended each other's concerts before and it certainly wasn't a secret to either of your fans that the two of you knew each other, having done challenges, tiktoks, and other collabs together, but it still would give you butterflies when he would show up to a concert. 

you: 🥹 i told you if you would tell me beforehand that you were coming then you wouldn't have to actually buy tickets

markus 😒😋: its no fun when you know already!!! 

you: next time get floor tickets so i can have eye candy in the crowd

markus 😒😋: yes ma'am 🫡

the concert went super well. you were on time and your mic was loud enough for once and your costume wasn't itchy and your boyfriend was in the crowd. you were sure multistans had already spotted him there and you hoped that he was having a good time and that everyone was leaving him alone.

during the section of the concert where you walk around and sing into a handheld mic and do fan service, you spot a particularly funny sign. the sign, which was decked out in glittery letters and lots of hearts read: "y/n let me get that nda"

you double over in laughter as the back track plays without main vocals before continuing singing, going over to the fanboy holding the sign and taking his phone to record with it. the fan all but faints when you hand his phone back and blow him a kiss. when the song ends you talk for a bit about your tour so far and read other signs, flirting with your fans (as one does) and drinking water to soothe your throat. you don't particularly even think about what you're doing as you interact with the crowd, simply happy to see them smile.

the rest of your concert goes smoothly and you stay for around 30 minutes after everyone clears out in order to help your staff pack equipment and to make sure you didn't forget anything personal at backstage. when you're changed into a hoodie and some sweats and sitting in the passenger seat of your staff's car, you notice mark hasn't texted you, which is weird. mark always texts you after a concert even if you're going back to the same apartment. you assume maybe his phone died when you shoot him a "how was it?" text and he doesn't respond. you're really too exhausted to think of anything else as the road lulls you into a quick nap as you're driven to your boyfriend's parent's house.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

04. jealousy, jealousy 

mark's parents are asleep when you get back to their home, making for a silent house other than the whirring of the air conditioning and the click of you locking the front door. your boyfriend greets you as you walk through said door with a kiss on the cheek. you take in his already scruffy hair and pajama clad legs as well as the loose t-shirt he obviously just threw on.

"did your phone die?" you ask, worried as to why he didn't respond to you.

"yeah" he rubs one of his eyes with the back of his hand "man, um, traffic was crazy, i only just got here and changed."

mark hasn't been this awkward with you since the first few months you started dating. there's obviously something bothering him but you really don't know how to ask, especially when it's so late and you're still tired despite your nap. 

"yeah, i didn't actually drive back so i was able to take a power nap through it." you reply. mark simply hums and turns around, walking to and up the stairs, abruptly deciding he's done with the conversation. you follow him, face twisted in mouth opened, furrowed-brow confusion whenever he had his back to you. mark lingers by the doorway in his room as you pass him to flop down dramatically on the bed, facing the wall, only bothering to kick off your shoes and socks. you don't even notice the click of him locking the door while he turns the lights off before he curls up behind you, chest to your back as he wraps his arms around you slowly. sensually. mark's breath fans on the back of your neck before he plants several slow kisses there, moving until he reaches right below the shell of your ear. all the while, his large, warm hands can't seem to to anything other than wander under your hoodie to caress your waist and stomach. you let out a breathy and quiet chuckle.

"babe, what are you doing?" you ask in a whisper.

"you know you're mine, right?" mark whispers into your ear, completely ignoring the question, yet answering it at the same time.

your skin heats all too quickly. you know exactly what this is. he's jealous. of what, you're really not sure.

your boyfriend continues to kiss around your ear, moving now to your shoulder, each kiss messier and needier than the last. one of his hands moves to cup your breast while the other sits right below your belly button, tantalizingly close to where you can feel your arousal pooling in liquid form. his pinky dips under the waistband of your sweats and stays there as he toys with your nipple, pinching the bud with two fingers, eliciting a soft whine from you to which he hisses.

"have to be quiet, baby. be quiet for me? for me?" he repeats. you breathe out a shaky "ok" as you move your arm behind you in an attempt to feel up your boyfriend, petting his side.

mark snuggles closer and you can feel his erection against your ass as he continues to massage your breast. his other hand finally dives under the waistband of your sweats, middle finger finding your clit oh so easily as he begins to almost pet you, cupping your entire mound and rocking his hands against it, middle finger pressed ever so slightly between the lips and against your bundle of nerves. you try your best to keep your whines down, your once free hand now occupied with covering your mouth. you buck embarrassingly and helplessly against mark's hand.

"desperate, huh? that why you made a show of yourself?" he coos.

you nod. of course it wasn't the truth and you both knew that. you really still weren’t sure what you even did, but your mind was too hazy to do anything except play into his hands, literally and figuratively. 

mark begins to rub circles into your clit, using the friction from your panties to add to the sensation of it. you struggle to stay quiet and when you let a particularly obscene sound slip, your boyfriend groans, pulling away from you.

"sit up, baby." he commands as he gets off the bed and drops to his knees in front of you. he runs his palms up your clothed thighs when you turn to face him.

"take this off for me, princess?" he requests.

you oblige, lifting your hips to discard your sweats, deciding your hoodie is too much and discarding that as well. you don't know when mark removed his shirt, but between him locking the door and getting on his knees, it had been tossed to the opposite corner of the room, bunched up and barely visible from the moonlight filtering through the window. 

mark pushes your legs open and slots himself between them, kissing the inside of your thigh, face oh so close to exactly where you need him. you look down at him in awe. the way his messy brown hair falls into his prettily-pink tinged face and how absolutely drunken on you he looks when his gaze flicks up to you might be enough for you to cum on the spot. you're practically throbbing for him when he finally presses a kiss to your clothed clit. your breath hitches and you let out a soft whimper at the contact.

"you still haven't exactly told me what i did.." you remind mark as his thumbs hook under the hem of your underwear. they linger there for a moment while he answers.

“i think you know."

you lift your hips once again to allow mark and to slip your panties down and toss them somewhere in the room. the air is cool against the heat of your cunt and you fight the urge to close your legs to keep in the warmth.

"so fucking gorgeous." mark mutters before rolling his tongue against your clit. you let out a loud whimper and he shushes you gently but does nothing more to stop you when he licks a fat stripe up your pussy before sucking your clit and coming off with an obscene pop that has you biting into the hand covering your mouth. he returns to it, making slow circles of it with his tongue while he inserts a finger into you, then two, pumping them in and out and curling them at an agonizingly slow place.

you whimper around your hand for a second before taking it slightly away from your mouth.

"i s-seriously don't know— hah— w-what i did, babe." you manage to get out.

mark pulls his face away from your heat, replacing his tongue with his thumb, increasing to a medium pace.

"touched other people. laughed at their jokes. just missed you so bad, princess. wished it was me.” he melts into the side of your thigh, looking up at you as he answers before focusing intently on the way his fingers move against you. the sound of his fingers inside of you fills the room with nasty squelching. his free hand has been rubbing circles into the outside of your thigh this whole time and you attempt to grab it to hold his hand when he finally speeds up a third time, going a pace that you can finally feel your orgasm building with. he swats your hand away.

"think you deserve it?" he asks

"m'sorry." you reply, opting to place the hand on his sheets instead. you can finally feel your release building and your moans get harder and harder to contain behind your hand.

"mark m'gonna cum, please" you plead with him. for what, you're not sure. 

"that's it, good girl." he coos "let it all out, princess." 

his praise is just enough to make you topple over the edge of pleasure, orgasm washing over you in waves as you let out a silent cry. mark finger-fucks you through it, not bothering to stop even when your thighs threaten to crush his head or your foot hits his back, before slowing and then finally pulling his fingers away once your clenching ceases, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick it clean whilst you catch your breath. 

"lay down, if i don't fuck your brains out right now i'm seriously gonna lose it." your eyes widen as you reposition yourself so that you're laying on your back while mark discards his pants and underwear. he crawls over you, holding himself up on one forearm as you start making out, tongues melding against each other. he breaks from the kiss to lean back and put one of your legs over his broad shoulder. he teases you, rubbing the tip of his fat cock against your still-sensitive clit.

"nobody else can do this but me right, princess?" he asks and you can hear his breath hitch as he continues to rock himself against you. you shake your head in response.

"need it so bad mark." you plead with him, tired of the teasing and the empty feeling in your core.

mark lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in slowly, inch by inch, coupled with quiet groans. the stretch is something you're never used to no matter how many times the two of you fuck; the way he fills you is delicious.

he pauses when he's fully inside you, leaning over you, causing the leg on his shoulder to fold back on you. he kisses your neck and jaw and nibbles at your ear he pulls out until just the tip remains and thrusts back into you, causing you to let out a loud combination of a whine and a strangled groan, to which mark quickly covers your mouth with his hand. he starts slow, rocking in and out of you at a leisurely pace. his free hand that isn't muffling your noises rests beside you on the bed so that he doesn't absolutely crush you. mark makes sure not to fuck into you too hard, worried the loud sounds of skin on skin might wake his parents up. 

"think you can cover your own mouth for me?" he asks and you nod.

he pushes himself up so that his chest is no longer flush with yours and his hand is no longer covering your mouth. you hover the back of your hand over your mouth so that your voice is still audible enough for mark to hear, commanding him to go faster. you cover your mouth as he obliges, and he starts letting out soft moans. they're not nearly as loud as yours but they're so sexy that you almost can't help the way you try to roll your hips up into him in response. 

"what would all your fans think?" he says. "folded in half for my cock... all for me." he adds, starting to get lost in the feeling of your pussy pulling him in. he throws his head back and you swear you could cum from the sight right then and there. 

something snaps in mark- maybe its how close he is or how warm you are, but he stops caring about the noise and starts making pointed thrusts into you, hitting that sweet spot in you that makes your eyes roll and your back arch off the bed. the sound of his skin on yours is loud and if you weren't so fucked out then maybe you'd care, but your brain is fuzzy and your skin is tingly and the only thing you can think about is how impossibly tight the coil in your stomach is. your hand isn't enough to muffle anything anymore, your fingers keep curling and you're squirming so much that it's hard to contain any sounds you make. mark seems to have forgotten where he is because he just starts praising you like you're alone in his apartment.

"so fucking gorgeous. gonna cum, princess? yeah?" he coos.

through babbles and broken groans you manage to get out a broken "please." his thumb finds your clit and he rubs it in rough circles and you swear you're on fire. your orgasm crashes into you like a crack of lightning and you open your mouth to let out a silent scream. you squirm and kick and mark holds your hips down to fuck you through it, chasing his own orgasm all the while. he cums not too long after you with a chant of your name and a broken, choked moan as he fills you up with ropes of hot seed. your chest heaves and you honestly forget that you even exist until mark's words bring you back.

"you don't think we woke them up, right?"

────────────

A/N ┇OH GOD!!! im actually really scared i hope this isnt as bad as it seems to me i think i just dont like it because im the one who wrote it. i got a bit out of character for mark but like also who knows what hes like during sex. you dont know. i dont know. AHH! um i hope you 🫵 enjoyed it. take a shot every time i said the word you in this fanfic.

I got distracted while editing this because I had nct mvs playing in the background and 90s love came on… winwin I miss you

[russellbee]

DONE LOOKIN’ FOR SIGNS IN THE GAPS AND THE SILENCE (LN4, MF)

lando norris x childhood bff!reader x max fewtrell (she/her) summary. the timeline of your friendship with lando and max, leading up to the day they finally become yours. (writing, small smau) (5.2k) warnings. conflicting thoughts on polyamory, cursing, mentions of drinking alcohol, a nameless older sister that's basically a plot device :P andi's note!! IT'S HERE!! i hope you all enjoy :D! gonna go eat dinner 😊 (title from decode by sabrina carpenter) -> the inspiration/original

nav+masterlist • tags: @aykxz98 & @makanirock05 :)

July 2013 — 14 years old

You've come to the decision that you hate Italy. Which is not true, but the heat clinging to your skin has made you a bit irrational. It's not all the heat, but it's easier to blame something intangible on your bad mood than your actual problem. Your sister speaks — something about water or the weather, you're not sure — before walking off.

You watch her leave, the anger festering in you releasing through you harshly pulling your arms out of your suit. The sleeves flop beside you, resting on the pavement. You stare at them for a second, feeling sick in the stomach.

A liability. Why do you even keep going, then?

In November, your parents will tell you what you already know, but they'll dress it nicely. The harsh version is: You have no future in racing; you'll have to find something else to do. There's still a couple of months, but you can feel yourself already missing the thrill of karting and getting a cool trophy to decorate your room with. It's not fair, truthfully, but your sister had been a warning. You're just following her footsteps now.

This whole week, you've watched the boys around you, the ones wearing the same suit as you, racing carefree because they don't need reassurance that they can go far. They will, most likely. You've had a bitter taste on your tongue since overhearing your father's phone call. You shouldn't have listened.

"Are you okay?" You blink, looking up at who spoke. He's wearing a Ricky Flynn suit, bright and obnoxious. But he also looks genuine, like he cares about how you're doing. That's new.

"Um, I'm fine." As an afterthought, you add, "Thanks." He could be about your age, but you wouldn't be surprised if he's younger. He's probably around the same height as an elf.

"Do— Would you want to get lunch with Max and me? It's not— like our parents are gonna be there. Obviously. But we think you're cool, and we want to hang out with you." When he's stopped speaking, he lets out a breath like he didn't breathe the entire time. "I'm Lando, by the way." Max? He can't be talking about Verstappen because you're pretty sure he went home directly after his race. So, Fewtrell, then. The longer you squint at Lando, the more you remember him hovering in the background of your memories, Max Fewtrell by his side.

"I'd have to ask my sister." His whole face lights up, and it's ridiculous but endearing at the same time. "Yeah, cool. Cool."

You get lunch with Lando, Max, and their families. Your sister exchanges your parents' information with theirs, and there's a silent promise to hang out again. It's nice, a bit of weight off your shoulders.

You even get to spend your weekend in Italy, a rare permission from your parents. When you get home, your digital camera, the one you'd gotten for your most recent birthday, is full of photos. Your sister helps you get them printed out, and together you decorate the walls of your room with your photos. At night, you stare at the singular framed photo on your nightstand; you, Lando, and Max huddled together in a restaurant booth. It stays there until you move out.

December 2015 — 16 years old

The cold air bites your exposed skin when you step out onto the street. Lando hisses like a cat at the feeling, hunching his shoulders, and bringing his arms closer to his body. As you laugh, you can see your breath in the air, like a fog. Max pulls his beanie off his head, fitting it over Lando's, who squeaks at the sudden intrusion. "If you don't stop pouting, I'm taking it back." He adds, rolling his eyes when Lando huffs.

"I'm not pouting! I'm just saying we could've left earlier, and it would've been a bit warmer." Max pushes Lando in the back, urging him to start walking. They fit themselves beside you, Max on your left and Lando on your right. "How are we supposed to see the lights then? The whole reason we're leaving now is to see all the decorations and stuff." Max teases, raising an eyebrow at Lando. He goes to speak but he closes his mouth, eyes trained on your face.

"Right. Yeah, ‘bet they'll look cool." Your face feels too hot for this weather. You keep your eyes forward and try to ignore the feeling of their eyes on you, sneaking glances like you don't know. Once the Christmas market is in your view you speed up your pace. Distantly, you can hear Max speak — such a suck-up, mate — and Lando's offended noise. You can imagine how red he must look.

"Hurry up!" You yell, not even looking back. You stop near the entrance to the market, pulling your camera from your coat pocket. Scratches litter the outside, but luckily not the lens, some that you've covered with random stickers you've come across. There are also two distinct signatures, small but noticeable. So when we go pro you can sell it, be as rich as us. Lando had said, and you had rolled your eyes and told them earnestly you wouldn't sell it. They both turned bright red, and you chose not to acknowledge it.

You turn it on, panning the camera around the market to see if your photos might look good. They won't, you know it. Your camera's too old, and it was never excellent even when you first got it. But you like the memories, even if your favorites are too blurry to understand. You finally turn around, Max and Lando coming into view on the tiny screen. Before they can notice, you take a photo, laughing at Max's groan when he realizes. He'll always complain about you and Lando's theatrics, but he's just as dramatic.

In the photo, Lando is smiling bright, his cheeks rosy red. Max is blurry from his sudden movement, but you can make out his smile in the mess of colors.

You stay at the market till it closes, eating too much food and drinking an absurd amount of hot chocolate. Your SD card is full when you get home because Lando had snatched your camera when you were distracted. It's only 10 pm when you get back to your sister's apartment, so you decide to watch a movie on the pull-out couch.

When the light floods through the windows in the morning, you're still there. Lando is on your right, and Max on your left. They're both turned toward you, their heads resting on your shoulders. Lando's curled up against your side, and one of Max's legs rests on top of yours. It's too much. You wouldn't mind if it was just one of them, but both is suffocating. It feels wrong, to have them this close to you.

You hold your breath and leave the couch as quietly as possible. Your sister's bedroom door is ajar, and you slip into her bed like you were supposed to last night: Sharing beds like you had ten years ago. She blinks at you as you get comfortable, tugging her comforter closer to you. "I was wondering when you were going to join me." You huff, turning so she can't see how flustered you are. "Nice night with your boys?"

"Stop talking," You grumble. She laughs and lets it be; for now.

Lando and Max leave in the afternoon, heading back to their parent's houses. You lay on the couch, knees tucked against your chest as you go through the photos on your camera. The ones Lando took are noticeable, a bit blurrier than yours, and much more focused on human subjects. You and Max, specifically. In some of the photos, Max's annoyance at Lando is visible, but you can see an underlying fondness in his smile and his eyes. You blink at the photos of yourself, finding similar qualities in your own face, with no difference for who you're looking at. You turn off your camera and stare into space for a bit. Your boys.

It feels greedy, to like them both. But then, if you have one, you leave out the other. There's no winning, is there?

Your sister flops onto the couch, her legs invading your personal space. You glare at her, extending your legs in retaliation. She doesn't acknowledge it, instead asking; "How'd your photos come out?"

You stare at the blank screen for a second, remembering the warmth in your eyes as you looked at Lando behind the camera. "Fine." She raises a brow, used to your rambles and rants about your pictures. Her foot nudges your ankle, bringing your eyes back to her.

"Is it what I said?" Your body goes hot, and you focus on anything other than her. "No." She sighs, pulling her legs closer toward her, giving you space. The silence is uncomfortable as you both think of something to say.

"It's fine if you like both of them, you know?" You barely think before you speak, spitting out an answer as fast as possible. A shield from your actual wants and feelings. "It's not normal." Your sister frowns before her lips twist into a teasing smile.

"Since when have you been normal? Or, any of you." You stare at her, not saying anything but not backing down either. "It's not— If all three of you like each other, you could date. It's a thing people do. If you think for whatever reason that dating them isn't going to make you happy, don't. But I know you like them and they make you happy right now. You could...try."

You can't speak, unknown words lodged in your throat, and a war in your mind. She leaves you to think, and you don’t talk about it again for a while.

November 2018 — 19 years old

Lando's birthday is no longer something intimate, spent in one of your bedrooms or a random hotel room with a shitty pre-made cake. Apparently.

When you get to the pub Lando had sent you the address of, you don't expect to see multiple tables pushed together, heaps of people you've never seen before sitting around them. You know Lando's becoming a bigger deal. He'll be an actual F1 driver in a couple of months. It's just different, but you won't complain.

You spot Max near the end of the table, and his eyes light up when he spots you. He waves you over, and you notice a chair beside him, his puffer coat taking its seat. You fight back a smile at something so simple. Nothing but a friendly gesture, right?

You maneuver through the chairs around the tables, too many people squished together in an effort to be included. Max has moved his coat so it rests along the back of his chair, and as you near him, you can hear him asking people to shuffle their chairs in. He smiles at you as you sit down, bright and charming.

"There's more people than I expected, to be honest." You mutter, looking for Lando in the mess of people. You recognize some: like Alex and George, sitting not far but clearly in their own world. "Yeah, I know, right." It's not a question, more of an annoyed grumble. You follow his gaze, finding Lando with a girl hanging off his arm. She's ridiculously pretty, maybe a little older. A model, or an influencer? How did Lando meet her?

"I— Is that like his girlfriend or something?" You whisper, your voice weak. Max glances at you, and his eyes seem to study your face before looking back at Lando. "I mean, I dunno. He's never mentioned her or anything."

"But she's here?"

"Yeah." Max sounds a little dejected, and you wonder if he knows how hard he's gripping the neck of his beer bottle. His face looks tight: his jaw clenched and eyes piercing into Lando. Who hasn't looked over; nor spared you a glance since you arrived. Did he even see you?

You slip your hand over Max's, prying his fingers from the bottle. He looks at you, a silent question in his eyes before he lets you take it. You both stare at each other as you bring the bottle to your lips. The second you taste the bitterness of the beer, you screw your eyes shut, but drink it anyway. Max lets out a short laugh as you put the bottle back on the table, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"That's horrible." Max smiles, not as bright as before but, still him. "Yeah, but it's a good distraction from...that." He waves his hand in the general direction before freezing. You have another staring contest, and for a second, it looks like Max might say something, but he doesn't.

"Well, we have each other, right?" It's awkward, the silence painful. Then, Max swallows heavily, a weak yeah, leaving his lips before he takes the final swig of his beer.

You don't talk to Lando the entire night, and when it becomes clear that he'll be going home with his mystery stranger, you offer Max a night at yours.

You stumble on the uneven cobblestone street that leads up to your apartment, having split too many beers with Max. Though, he is considerably more sober than you.

It feels like the air is punched out of you when Max's hand hesitantly touches your waist. You look up at him, his eyes shiny under the streetlights and a small smile on his lips. Then you back him up against the nearest building and with a quick glance at the street number, realize it's yours.

"You good?" His words are a little breathless, his hand hovering instead of touching now. Your right-hand grips the collar of his jacket, your left probably holding his hip too tightly. "Yeah, all good."

"Um." Max looks around a bit, and you realize he might be waiting for you to let him go. You don't want to. "I like you." Your words become one, but you know Max hears you because his eyes go wide. He relaxes a bit, his smile returning.

"Yeah, I—." You don't let him finish, pulling him into a kiss as soon as you know. His words turn into a small groan, and he finally grabs your waist for real. It's everything you ever wanted; a kiss from one of them. Your boys. One of Max's hands gently touches the back of your neck, moving you closer to him. When you pull away, he rests his forehead against yours.

"But I...y'know." You can't get yourself to say it, but Max knows. "Lando?" Of course, he knows.

"Don't," He takes a breath, cutting himself off and pulling away slightly. "Me too, honestly."

You drag Max into your flat, and stay up late, talking about all the things you both want from Lando but are too scared to ask for. In the morning, you wake up with Max on your left and your phone buzzing on your right. Lando's pissy about you apparently not being at his party, and you wake up Max with your argument over the phone. He helps you calm down, assures you that you haven't accidentally torn your friendship apart, and then takes you on your first date. You can't win, but having Max by your side is close.

July 2019 — 20 years old

Max picks you up from a bus stop in Silverstone and immediately pulls you into a kiss. You make a surprised sound before kissing him back. His passion is overwhelming but not bad.

He's got a big, bright smile on his face when he pulls away. "Hello, uni grad." You roll your eyes, pushing him away with a muttered, fuck off. Max laughs, pulling you right back to him.

"I really wanted to be there, y'know." His playful tone has slipped away, replaced with fondness and a tinge of guilt. "I know, it's fine. My parents miss you, by the way." You kiss his cheek, your pointer finger hooked in his shirt collar to pull him toward you.

Max grins, tugging you toward his rental car, right hand in your left. "They're my biggest fans, I think." You split, letting go of his hand to head toward the passenger seat. "That's not true. You've got me cheering for you." The, and Lando, goes unsaid but, you know he heard it.

In Max's hotel room, your bag gets thrown to the floor in the haste of pushing Max onto his bed. Your hands creep under his shirt, cold hands on his hot skin. "Hi," You grin down at him, hovering above him, your legs straddling his. "Missed you." Max pulls you down for a kiss, his hand heavy against the back of your neck.

You inch closer to him, hands sliding further up his shirt: feeling every inch of him. Max's other hand grabs your thigh as he leans up, deepening the kiss.

"Oh my God!" You jump at your sister's voice, flipping over so you're lying on the bed beside Max. "What the fuck?" You curse, eyes going from Max to your sister, then Lando. He looks like he ate something sour, lips screwed up weird.

"Max texted us that you were here," She explains with a teasing smile that falters when she sees Lando's face. "We need to talk," She grabs you by the wrist, pulling you into the en suite. The door shuts harshly behind her, and she locks the door. She's dressed in a papaya polo because Lando vouched for her to get a job on his team. He's complained about her constant mothering, but he asked for it.

"What about Lando?" She seethes, voice quiet because you both know how thin hotel walls can be. You stare at her, your arms wrapped self-consciously around yourself. "We— It's just better this way, alright? He doesn't need any more unnecessary attention. Plus, he doesn't even—."

"Don't say he doesn't like either of you. I have seen him smile like a fucking idiot at your group chat. I have suffered through his questions about whether he's pissed you or Max off because you're 'taking too long' to respond to a text. He likes you. Stop being stupid. Both of you, honestly." She rolls her eyes, her gaze just as harsh as her words.

"You good, mate?" Max asks after a beat of silence, both of them having watched the bathroom door slam shut. His eyes have a sheen to them Max doesn't want to acknowledge, and his lips have been stuck together like they've been glued. "Why didn't you tell me?" Lando sounds hurt, devastated that you'd gone behind his back. Max gets it, but he's had time to figure it out. Neither of you have been hiding it.

"I mean, we thought you'd figure it out?" Truthfully Lando knowing was never really discussed. A silent agreement had hung over the both of you because neither of you wanted to know how Lando would react.

"Congrats, I guess." Lando scuffs his shoe against the carpet, not looking at Max.

"Right. Thanks."

December 2019 — 20 years old

yourusername 🏔️🩵 (tagged landonorris, maxfewtrell)

liked by yoursister and others

maxfewtrell 👋🩵 (liked by yourusername)

landonorris sick pics 👍

yourusername thanks lan 🙃

yourfriend cuteee! (liked by yourusername)

yoursister no lando?

yourusername he's in the last pic? 😐 yoursister not what i meant (commented deleted by author) yoursister right didn't see him there!

August 2020 — 21 years old

You walk into the bedroom in your flat that you share with Max, a plastic bag in your hand. Guilty pleasure foods and sugary drinks. An in-the-moment fixer-upper. You turn on the light, finding Lando lying on Max's right, head on his shoulder, watching him mindlessly scroll on his phone. No one says anything for a bit before Lando goes to get up. "You can stay," You swallow heavily, feeling like there's a lump in your throat. "If you want." He stops, sinking back into the bed.

It's fine. It's everything you've ever wanted, but it's not true. Max is yours, and Lando's like an addition. He'll be here tonight, but maybe never again.

You drop the bag on your desk chair, pulling off the hoodie you wore to the shops. It was too hot out for it, but you didn't want to let go of it; Max's cologne clinging to every thread. One of them makes a little noise as your shirt rides up like the hoodie doesn't want you to go. Lando probably. You know what Max sounds like.

You hesitate before slipping into bed to the left of Max. Lando's on his other side, clinging a little. His head is back on Max's shoulder, and his arm is wrapped loosely around your boyfriend's. You shuffle closer to Max, and he hesitantly wraps his arm around you, eyeing you. Are you okay with this? You sling your arm around his chest with ease, your hand resting by Lando's face. Yeah. Obviously.

You're all silent except for your breathing.

Max huffs after a moment, dropping his phone so it lays on him. "It's too hot for this." Truthfully, it is. But you don't want to admit it, and neither does Lando. You roll your eyes, "The fans on. We'll be fine." Max shifts, putting his phone somewhere else without moving away from either of you. You close your eyes, your head tucked near the crook of Max's neck.

"Go to sleep," Lando mumbles, and you can hear Max grumble. His body relaxes under you, and you can feel his head move, tilting toward Lando. It's the quickest you've fallen asleep in months.

You wake in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and lying half on Max. Lando's eyes blink at you in the dark, but you can't make out the rest of his face. You move your hand, your fingers gently brushing against his face. He breathes in harshly, eyes darting to Max's sleeping figure. "We both want you here, y'know? I don't mind. I'm sure Max doesn't either."

Lando blinks, then again and again. "Yeah, that's cool. I'll...I'll be here. When you want me to." His fingers ghost your hand, and you can feel the heat of his hand even if the touch is barely there. "We always want you." He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and then you can't see the shine of his eyes anymore, and the heat of his hand is gone. You hesitate before moving your hand, letting it linger near him. If he ever wants it back. You back.

August 2022 — 23 years old

In your hotel room in Ibiza, room service has been ordered. Lando is digging through his suitcase, and Max is looking at a collection of photos on his phone; taken over the past few days. You've only been in Ibiza for a couple of hours, work keeping you from joining them sooner.

You're almost sleeping, your head resting on Max's shoulder and looking at the photos through bleary eyes. Fucking early flights. There's a knock on the room door, and Max gets up to answer it. You fall onto the bed with a groan, curling up into a ball. Lando laughs in the distance.

A finger prods at your spine, and you bend your back, trying to get away from it. "C'mon, get up. Food's here." You nuzzle your face in the sheets with a muffled, "Let me sleep." Max moves, footsteps trailing off in the distance.

"You hate cold food. Get up." Lando's hands prod at your sides, and you squirm, sitting up to get away from him. "Asshole," You curse, ignoring the heat in your face. Lando giggles, heading toward the balcony where the plates have been set. You stretch, groaning at the feeling, before joining them on the balcony.

You sit next to Max and go to dig into your food when you notice a wrapped box on the table. "What's that?" Lando visibly brightens, grabbing the box and extending it toward you. "I was gonna give it to you at Silverstone ‘cause I thought you were coming. But, y'know." You take the box hesitantly, nodding along to what Lando says.

You had intended to go to Silverstone with Max, but then a project at work was fumbled by a coworker and you had to pick up the pieces. It was nice to hear Max's recaps of the day, with Lando's comments in between; on the phone with them like you had when you were younger.

The box is wrapped badly, so at least you know Lando wrapped it himself. You hook your finger in an opening, tearing off the paper. At first, you think you're going crazy, your sleepiness jumbling the words on the box. Then, you're dreaming because in what world is Lando buying you a €4,600 camera? "Lando." Your voice is a bit harsher than you intended, and you see the worry fill his face. "You— Why would you buy me this? I barely take photos anymore." A Leica Q2: the camera you had recommended for Lando. Not for yourself. Because you knew he had the money and wanted to be artsy and dramatic. You didn't need this. You're fine with the camera you picked up at a second-hand shop after your digital camera gave out.

"I thought it was just ‘cause you had a...bad camera. I can return it. I just thought you'd like it. When you recommended it, you sounded like you were in love with it. And— You deserve it." Lando's eyes flicker to Max's, who have been more focused on him than you.

"I'll keep it, but don't spend this much money on me again." Your fingers gently touch the box; hesitantly because this camera just became the most expensive thing you own. Lando laughs weakly, awkward because Max still hasn't taken his eyes off him.

You go out to eat later in the night, and when Max disappears to the bathroom you get a text.

max 💞 he likes you

100%

you shut up

max 💞 i looked up the camera it's fucking expensive

you i know (6:38 pm)

max do you think he likes me too? (6:44 pm)

You don't respond to his text, but when he comes back to the table, you squeeze his hand in silent reassurance. Lando watches from the other side of the table, looking guilty. Neither of you notice, too caught up in your thoughts.

July 2023 — 24 years old

2nd mother don't forget what we talked about!

lando 🙄 ik

"Are you listening?" Lando looks up from his phone, immediately shutting it off at Max's annoyed look. The apology is on the tip of his tongue, but Max rolls his eyes and keeps talking.

"I was thinking about that restaurant down the corner for Wednesday?" Lando's nose scrunches up, thinking of the sushi bar just a few buildings down. Apparently, Max can read his mind. "Not the sushi place, the one with all the...plants and stuff. I don't know the name, Y/n does I think."

"She's uh, coming with us then?" Max's eyes narrow, and Lando shrinks because he read this wrong. He thought it'd just be him and Max, and now he can't flirt with Max in front of his girlfriend, can he? There's also the uneasiness in his stomach when around you both at the same time that he doesn't want to feel. He feels left out; and wants to be a trio again, preferably with more physical affection, thanks. "Yeah, well. Neither of us have seen you in a while."

Lando stares at Max for a second, sees his anger in the tightness of his shoulders. He should spit it out already.

"I just— I don't want to be your third wheel anymore."

"Then get a girlfriend. I'm sure you've got enough girls in your dms to find one." Max sounds pissed, but that's not what Lando was trying to say. He groans, leaning against the counter in his kitchen, head in his hands.

"That's not what I meant!" He looks at Max as he says, "I want it to be us three again, like a trio or a fucking throuple. I want both of you and I have been excluded for years. I'm desperate at this point, Max."

"You're kidding." Max's voice is weak, staring at Lando like he's grown five heads. "No, I'm not."

"You should've said something sooner, you muppet." Max's hand gently touches the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Lando groans, gripping onto Max's t-shirt like he'll float away. He could stay in this moment forever, but there's still someone missing.

On Wednesday, you meet Max and Lando at the restaurant down the street from Lando's London apartment. You hadn't been able to attend Silverstone, again, stuck in another country for work. But you're here, and they're smiling brightly when they see you. You don't even get to say 'hi' before Lando pulls you into a hug, restricting but very warm and familiar. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. Now, let go. I don't think I can breathe." Lando laughs, letting go of you so you can hug Max. They both look happier than they have in a while, and you can't help but question it. You don't get to voice your opinion before you're pulled into the restaurant.

The table is a slightly bigger single table, so there's enough space for all your plates. You sit with your back to the rest of the building, Max on your left and Lando on your right. Things feel like they've shifted; Lando seems more like his old self around you two — another question to ask.

Max is discussing something with Lando about Quadrant when you feel something tap your ankle underneath the table. You eye Lando, who's got an impish grin on his face.

You forget about it until his shoe bumps your ankle again, causing you to hit your knee against the table. Max stops talking, looking at both you and Lando. "Everything all right?"

"Yep, all good," You say before kicking Lando's calf underneath the table. He tries to hide his pain, but Max can tell, rolling his eyes. "You're both terrible. I swear I can't take you anywhere together."

"Well, that's gonna be a problem, isn't it?" Lando murmurs, and they've both got matching teasing grins.

"Alright, what's going on? All of a sudden you're reading each other's minds. Tell me."

"Lando wants us to be a throuple. You, me, him." Max grins, and well, that explains a lot. You barely think before you speak. "You're kidding."

Lando rolls his eyes, "Is it so hard to believe that I could like both of you?" You look at Max, who shrugs, "Well— I love you guys, just accept it. Deal with it. There's no going back from here." Lando cuts Max off, grabbing both your hands and dragging them toward the center of the table.

"You're all mine now. Double WAGs...Wait, can Max be a WAG or is there something different for that?"

"Just stop talking. That's probably the least of our worries."

i'm thinking of making a lil addition of this from like fans/internet perspective if anyone's interested? cause i love writing stuff like that lol 😊 tell me your thoughts?

[nehi-soda]

Once More to See You - DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader No Outbreak AU

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

Summary: Joel knew exactly how to drive you wild, make you forget everything but the sensation of him; make you forget he was breaking your heart.

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: POSSIBLY DUBCON as reader has been drinking (also tagged), P in V sex, ANGST, smut, secret relationship, praise kink, dirty talk, cream pie, heartbreak, Joel is kind of a dick, dbf!joel, au!joel, no outbreak!joel. Legal age gap (reader is early 20s, and Joel is 56). No use of Y/N. Mood board for aesthetics only; reader's features aren't specified other than Joel can pick them up.

A/N: Posting this a day late as I literally only started writing it yesterday out of nowhere. Enjoy!

Joel's annual fourth of July party was in full swing. Children were running around with sparklers, families were gathered around picnic tables laden with food, and the air was filled with music. Tommy was in control of the music, so of course, AC/DC and Lynard Skynrd had been playing all day. The smell of grilling burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of freshly mowed grass and the tang of chlorine from the pool.

You spotted Joel near the grill, expertly flipping burgers and chatting animatedly with your dad. You felt a flutter of excitement, eager to see him after your last…hangout. As you approached, he glanced your way but quickly looked away, focusing intently on the food.

"Hey, Joel," you called out, trying to sound casual despite the nervous anticipation in your voice.

"Hey," he replied, not meeting your eyes, his tone brisk. He immediately turned to your dad, asking about the game they were planning to watch tomorrow.

You hovered nearby, hoping for a chance to talk, but every time you tried to engage him, he found a way to sidestep your attempts. First, he asked another guest to grab more buns from the kitchen. Then, he excused himself to check on the drinks. Each time you approached, he either walked away or started a conversation with someone else.

Determined not to give up, you followed him to the drinks table, where he was refilling the coolers with ice and beverages. "Joel, can we talk for a minute?" you asked, keeping your voice low.

"I'm busy right now," he said curtly, not even glancing up. He continued to work, his movements tense and hurried.

Your frustration grew as the party continued. You watched him from across the yard, perched on a bench gripping your solo cup tightly as he laughed and chatted with everyone else while avoiding you like the plague. You noticed the way he stiffened whenever you were nearby, how he seemed to find any excuse to move away from you.

“Hey, loner,” your friend Kayleigh slid in next to you, nudging your side. You didn’t answer.

“Um… you…oka-.”

“Not right now, Kay,” you answer abruptly, standing up to get yourself another drink. You downed it in one to try and quell the unease sitting in your stomach. Although it just made you feel even more sick. Something was up.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow and someone had started setting up fireworks for later. Joel had just left the grill, heading toward the house with a tray of empty dishes. This was your chance. With a few more drinks in your system, you'd found the courage to quickly follow him, catching up as he reached the back door.

"Joel, we need to talk. Now," you said firmly, grabbing his arm to stop him.

He looked around, clearly uncomfortable, his eyes darting to make sure no one was watching. "Not here," he muttered.

You tailed him into the kitchen.

He began absent-mindedly washing up some dishes with his back to you.

"Alright, what’s going on? Why have you been ignoring me all day?" you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest trying to sound confident.

“How much have you had to drink?” He said, ignoring your question.

“Not a lot,” you retorted, heat rising up your body.

“That’s a fuckin’ lie,” he scoffed in his southern drawl.

“Oh, so I'm the bad person now, huh?” You replied a little too loudly. “I’m just some silly little girl who doesn’t know anything, running around after you, wondering when you might fuck me next!”

Joel threw a dish into the sink with a loud clatter, making you jump. He turned to face you, his eyes flashing. "You think this is easy for me?" he hissed, keeping his voice low but intense.

Before you could respond, the kitchen door swung open.

"Hey, you two!" Tommy greeted cheerfully, oblivious to the tension. "Just grabbing another drink. Everything okay in here?"

"Yeah, just fine," Joel replied dryly, turning away from you to look out at the yard.

Tommy lingered momentarily, grabbing a drink from the fridge and chatting casually about the party. “We’re settin’ the fireworks off soon,” he said smugly with a toothy grin.

“Oh, great.” You feigned excitement, trying to act normal, but your heart pounded.

The moment he was gone, Joel turned to you, his eyes fixed. "We can't do this here," he said through gritted teeth.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "Then where? When? You can't just avoid me forever, Joel."

Joel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fine. Upstairs. Now." Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed toward the stairs, tugging you along by your arm.

You struggled to keep up with him as his heavy boots marched up the stairs; the drink made coordinating your feet very difficult.

Joel turned to face you once you were in his all-to-familiar bedroom with the door closed behind you.

“This needs to stop,” he said sternly.

Your heart dropped at his words. "Stop what? Us?"

"Yes. Us. It’s wrong, and it’s only goin’ to end badly. For both of us." He placed his hands on his hips.

"But we make each other happy. Isn’t that enough?" You said franticly.

"It’s not that simple," his voice strained. "Your dad… if he ever found out… it would be such a mess.”

You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. "But he doesn’t have to find out. We’ve been so careful. Please, Joel…I love you,” you sobbed as he pulled you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as your fingers twisted in his plaid shirt. The warmth radiating from his body seeped into your bones like a cruel comfort.

"Shhh, I know, baby, it’s okay." Joel hushed, stroking your hair. “It's just so complicated.”

“I don’t care” you pulled back, searching his eyes for any sign that he might change his mind. But all you saw was resignation.

"Please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Don't do this."

He cupped your face in his hands. “You deserve better than this. Better than sneakin’ around and hidin’. You deserve someone who can give you everything.”

"But I don't want anyone else," you cried, tears streaming down your face. God, you probably looked like a blabbering mess. "I want you."

Joel closed his eyes, pain etched into his features. "And I want you, too. More than you know. But this... it ain't right, darlin’,” and there is was; his velvet drawl reeling you in again. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, and something inside you snapped. The finality of his touch felt like a betrayal. You shoved him back with all your strength, your hands shaking with anger and hurt.

"Don't you dare!" You shouted, your voice trembling with rage. "Don't you fucking dare tell me what's right for me. You don't get to decide that."

Joel just stood there and took it.

“I wish I never fucking met you,” you muttered.

You pushed him again, harder this time. "I wish I never fucking met you!” You repeated.

Joel's expression hardened, and in an instant, he grabbed your arms, backing you up against the wall with a force that knocked the breath out of you. Your eyes were wide as his burned into you, and for a moment, you were actually scared of him. But before you could protest, he was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. He roughly hiked up your sundress and lifted you up by the backs of your thighs.

"This is what you want?" Joel growled, his voice low and intense. "One last time, huh?"

"Joel, please...", you gasped.

Your heart raced as his lips sloppily crashed against yours. It was intoxicating; you could smell his cologne and the beer on his breath as you wrapped yourself around him, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to lose yourself in him. One last time.

The room spun around you, the noise from the party outside fading into oblivion as he slipped your panties to the side and entered you all at once. You took a sharp breath at the sudden stretch you were unprepared for. His movements were driven by a desperate need, forcing himself into you with a mixture of pain and pleasure as you clung to him like your life depended on it. The boom of fireworks outside was the only momentary glitter of light as he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs and ass; you’d hoped to find bruises there in the morning. A flash of red, then white, then blue lit up the right side of his face."You drive me fuckin’ crazy," he leaned in to mutter against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. "I can't stop thinkin’ ‘bout you."

"Th-then… d-don't," you struggled to get your words out as he knocked the air out of you. “J-just b-be with me..."

“Aaah, fuck, who’s got good pussy baby?” Joel growled, his voice low and rough.

"I... I do," you gasped, barely able to breathe as he thrust brutally against your cervix, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.

"Say it again," he demanded, his pace relentless. "Say it again, baby. I need to hear it."

"I do! " You screamed, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths. "I-I’ve got good pussy, Joel. It’s all y-yours!”

"Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he spat. "Screwing your daddy's best friend." He whispered, raw and guttural, sending shivers through you. You could see the intensity in his eyes, his primal need for you. You started to be able to take him more easily as you became wet with arousal. You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with equal fervour, every part of you alight with pleasure. Joel’s hands gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he pounded into you."Ugh…yes, Joel,” you moaned, nails clawing at his salt-and-pepper locks to pull his lips to yours. “l love it w-when you f-fuck me.”

“Hmm, always feel so good, baby,” he pants, as his cock relentlessly slides in and out of your puffy lips. Each thrust hit that sweet spot deep within you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Joel knew exactly how to drive you wild, make you forget everything but the sensation of him; make you forget he was breaking your heart.

“That’s it, baby, it’s okay, just cum for me, cum all over this cock.”

Your body trembled as you cried out his name, your pleasure shattering through you in waves. You closed your eyes tight, feeling yourself gripping every inch of him as you dug your fingers into his shoulders. Joel held you through it, his strong arms keeping you secured against him and the wall as you came apart.

He followed soon after, his release a powerful, shuddering thing that left him collapsing onto you. He emptied every last bit of him into you with a growl.  You pushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead before he buried his face into the crook of your neck, panting for breath. He pulled out of you with a groan, releasing your legs and letting your feet find the ground again. You shuffled awkwardly, rearranging your underwear and smoothing out your dress. Joel looked away, avoiding your eyes as he did his jeans and belt back up. The silence between you was thick and heavy.

"Is this really it, then?" you asked quietly, your voice trembling as you struggled to keep your composure.

Joel sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. "It has to be. We can't keep doin’ this."

You felt a surge of anger rise in your chest. "So that's it? You just use me one last time and then throw me away?"

He finally met your gaze. "It’s not like that. I never wanted it to end this way.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face.

"But we can’t keep playin’ childish fuckin’ games, and you’re too naive to see the damage this could cause.”

"Don’t you dare put this all on me," you snapped, your voice rising. "You’re the one who started this.”

Joel took a step back. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I can’t see you again,” he said coldly.

You turned away, your heart shattering with every word he said. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. "Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, storming toward the door. You yanked it open and stepped into the hallway.

Downstairs, the sounds of the party continued but it all sounded like you were underwater.

You moved quickly to the front door and stepped out into the night, the cool air hitting your tear-streaked face. You hugged your arms and walked quickly. The air smelt like sulphur as fireworks illuminated the sky. You didn’t stop until you reached home.

The house was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

Your heart felt like it was being crushed in a vise, each breath harder to draw than the last. You could barely see through the blur of tears as you climbed the stairs, having to use your hands to steady yourself.

You reached your room and slammed the door shut, leaning against it for support. Your legs trembled, and you slid down until you was sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. You clenched your fists, trying to push down the sobs, threatening to break free. You had known the risks, known how wrong it was, but you hadn't been able to help yourself.

Fucking your dad’s best friend, what did you expect; thought you’d live happily ever after with a white picket fence?

Maybe Joel was right. Maybe you were too naïve. You were fucking crazy to think this could have ended any other way.

But no one made you feel like Joel did. No one felt like Joel did. It was electric. The way he touched you, the way he made you feel alive, cherished, and understood, no one had ever come close. Joel was everything you had ever wanted and more. But now, it was all over.

A soft knock on your door. "Sweetie, can we talk?" Your dad’s voice was gentle, but you couldn't face him.

"Go away," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Wondered where you were. You’re missing the fireworks, honey.”

"Please, just leave me alone."

“Hm, Joel did say you weren't feelin’ well, had too much to drink?”

How so desperately you wanted to tell your dad everything just to relieve some of the weight off of your shoulders, but how could you? How could you tell him, oh, by the way, I've been fucking your best friend behind your back for months, buts he’s just ended things and torn my heart into a million pieces? I know exactly just how many kisses fit between his eyes? I know the face he makes when he cums, and I think I can actually feel his cum leaking out of me right now?

divider credit to @kthice

*title inspired by "Once More to See You" by Mitski

[winwintea]

the call

PAIRING ↬ lee donghyuck x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ thriller, cheating!?, romance, angst(?), blood, attempted murder, i really don't know how to tag this, non-linear narrative, maybe horror

SUMMARY ↬ haechan leaves you a cryptic phone call on a night out. something about this doesn’t sit right with you.

WORD COUNT ↬3.3k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ surprise! this isn't the jisung fic but i decided to pull this one out of my sleeve as well. title and fic is inspired by "the call" by backstreet boys! the fic is also not written in linear order.

1 HOUR BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

“Hello?”

“Hi, it's me, what's up, baby? I'm sorry, listen, I'm gonna be late tonight So, don't stay up and wait for me, okay?”

“Where are you?”

“Wait, wait, say that again?”

“Haechan. Hello?”

“You're really dropping out, I think my battery must be low. Listen, if you can hear me, we're going to a place nearby, alright? Gotta go.”

4 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

“Don’t pout,” Haechan teases, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. His voice is light, but his teasing smile can’t hide the affection in his eyes.

“I’m not pouting,” you argue, crossing your arms in mock defiance.

“You’re pouting,” he insists, stepping closer until he’s standing right in front of you. He tilts his head, studying your expression, before leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Admit it. You’ll miss me.”

“I won’t,” you shoot back, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“Liar.” He grins, tugging on the strings of your hoodie playfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave. Just a couple of drinks with the guys, and I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me for real.”

“Uh-huh. Famous last words.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him as he walks toward the door.

“Text me if you get bored without me,” he calls out, slipping on his sneakers.

“You mean when you get bored and want an excuse to leave early,” you counter, leaning against the doorframe as you watch him put on his jacket.

“Guilty,” he admits with a wink. “Alright, baby, I’m out. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you reply softly, watching as he steps outside.

This is normal. Haechan always goes out with his friends on Saturdays. You glance at your phone, opening the chat with him to send a quick, “Be safe. Don’t let them drag you into anything dumb.” You know he won’t see it right away, but it makes you feel better.

30 MINUTES BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

You’re pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. Haechan’s earlier call echoes in your mind. 

I’m going to a place nearby.

The shrill sound of your ringtone breaks through your thoughts, and you nearly drop the phone in your scramble to answer.

“Sunoo?” you ask, recognizing the name on the screen.

“Y/N, hey,” Sunoo says, his voice laced with hesitation. “Um, I’m sorry if this is weird, but I thought I should tell you something.”

Your stomach twists. “What’s wrong?”

“I just saw Haechan… I think,” he says nervously. “He was walking down the street near the bar, but he wasn’t alone.”

Your breath catches. “Who was he with?”

“A woman,” Sunoo admits reluctantly. “She was… kind of close to him. Like, really close. I thought it was weird because he looked tense—like he was nervous, while also trying to relax. But she was smiling, laughing. I didn’t want to assume anything, but…”

You sit down on the couch, your legs threatening to give out. “Where did you see them?”

“Toward the alley near the old convenience store. They were walking away from the bar,” Sunoo says, his words spilling out quickly. “I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if I should get involved or assume anything, but I thought you should know.”

Your mind races. That’s not far. But why would he leave the bar with a woman?

“Thanks for telling me,” you manage, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, I don’t think he—” Sunoo starts, but you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out. Thank you.”

You hang up before he can say anything else, your hands shaking as you dial Haechan’s number.

“Come on, pick up,” you mutter, pacing again. The call goes straight to voicemail. You redial, but it’s the same result. “Haechan, please, just call me back. I don’t care what’s going on—I just need to know you’re okay.”

You end the call and clutch the phone to your chest, trying to steady your breathing.

You didn’t think he was cheating. You didn’t want to think that. But what if he really was with another woman? What if he lied about being late?

“No,” you whisper to yourself. Haechan wasn’t like that. You trusted him. But then why did he sound so strange on the phone? And who was this woman?

Your phone buzzes again, but it’s not Haechan. It’s a message from Sunoo: “Don’t make any assumptions. He looked… scared. Either he’s nervous about getting caught or something else. Be careful. Don’t do anything rash.”

Scared? Your chest tightens as panic fully takes over. Something is horribly wrong.

Without another thought, you grab your coat and keys, determined to find him yourself.

3 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The bar is alive with energy—music thumping, glasses clinking, and conversations overlapping. Haechan sits at a table with his friends, a round of drinks between them. He laughs at something Jaemin says, his head tipping back as he taps the table.

“Another round?” Jaemin asks, holding up his empty glass.

Haechan shakes his head. “I’m good for now. You’re not dragging me into your three-shots-in-five-minutes challenge again.”

“Come on,” Jaemin groans dramatically. “You’re so boring these days, man. What happened to the Haechan who used to party like a legend?”

“He got a girlfriend,” Renjun cuts in, smirking. “And he doesn’t want to die if she finds out he got plastered without telling her.”

The table erupts in laughter, and Haechan just shrugs, grinning. “Hey, priorities. Y/N’s cuter than all of you combined.”

As the guys banter, none of them notice the woman until she’s standing right by their table. Her hair is sleek, her makeup flawless, and her gaze sharp as she focuses entirely on Haechan.

“Hi,” she says, her voice smooth and confident. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.”

Haechan blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Oh. Uh, hi.”

She smiles, leaning in slightly. “You looked like you were having fun, but maybe later… I’ve got a little place nearby. Wanna go?”

The air shifts awkwardly at the table. Although her invitation is innocent, her intentions are clear. Haechan’s friends exchange glances, their smirks fading as they realize what’s happening.

Haechan’s smile is polite but firm. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m good. I’ve got someone waiting for me at home.”

Her smile falters for a split second before she recovers, her tone light but insistent. “Are you sure? It’s not far, and I think you’d enjoy it.”

Haechan shakes his head. “Thanks, but no. Have a good night.”

She lingers for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, before she finally steps back. “Your loss,” she murmurs, turning on her heel and walking away.

As she moves to a dark corner of the bar, Haechan exhales, muttering, “Well, that was weird.”

Jaemin snorts. “You should’ve seen your face, man.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haechan says, waving him off. But something about the encounter reminds him of something. He glances toward the woman, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes meet. 

Oh fuck.

15 MINUTES BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The air is cold against your skin as you hurriedly zip up your jacket and step out into the night. The street feels far too quiet for a Saturday evening, the streetlights casting long, eerie shadows on the pavement. You clutch your phone in your hand, gripping it like a lifeline as your mind races.

Sunoo’s text flashes in your head: “Don’t make assumptions.”

But when Sunoo had told the others, they weren’t so sure. 

“Y/N, maybe you should stop and think,” your friend Jihoon had said on the phone. He had called you as soon as Sunoo relayed the information to him. “I mean, I don’t want to make you upset, but what if… what if Haechan’s just—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you had snapped, cutting him off. “You think he’s cheating, don’t you?”

There had been a long pause on the other end before Jihoon finally said, “I mean, what else could it be? Sunoo said he was with some girl, right?”

You’d hung up after that, unable to handle the doubt in Jihoon’s voice. But then Giselle called, her tone softer but no less skeptical.

“Y/N, I’m worried about you,” she’d said. “I know you trust Hyuck, but... sometimes people surprise you. Maybe he’s not who you think he is.”

“He’s not cheating,” you’d insisted, though your voice had wavered. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Then where is he?” Minjeong asked, and for a moment, you’d felt your resolve crack.

But now, as you march down the sidewalk, your determination solidifies. You know Haechan. You know how much he loves you. And that phone call—the rushed tone, the way he kept cutting out—wasn’t the voice of someone sneaking around. It was the voice of someone in trouble. At least you thought so.

You stop at the corner of the street, glancing around desperately. There’s no sign of him. You dial his number again, only to be met with voicemail. Your heart pounds harder with each failed attempt to reach him.

Finally, with trembling hands, you call the police.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My boyfriend is missing,” you say, your voice breaking. “I think—I think something’s wrong. He called me earlier, and he sounded…nervous. And now his phone’s off, and my friend saw him with a strange woman—please, I need help.”

The dispatcher asks you a series of questions: Haechan’s description, the last place he was seen, the time of the call. You answer as best as you can, your voice growing shakier with every detail.

“We’ll send an officer to patrol the area,” the dispatcher says. “Please stay where you are and remain calm.”

But you can’t stay put. You hang up and keep walking, your eyes darting to every shadow, every alley.

“Y/N, stop.”

You turn to see Sunoo jogging up to you, his face etched with worry. Behind him are Jihoon and Giselle, who look less concerned and more resigned.

“We told you not to do anything rash. What are you doing?” Jihoon asks, crossing his arms. “The cops will handle it.”

“I can’t just stand around and wait!” you snap. “Something’s wrong, Jihoon. I can feel it.”

“What if there’s nothing wrong?” Giselle says carefully. “Y/N, what if he just… didn’t want you to know where he was going?”

“Stop,” Sunoo interjects, glaring at her. “I told you he looked nervous and scared. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what I saw.”

“Or maybe you’re overthinking it,” Jihoon mutters.

You shake your head, tears pricking your eyes. “I know Haechan. He wouldn’t do this to me. If he hasn’t come back, it’s because he can’t.”

Your voice cracks, and Sunoo places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he says softly. “Let’s just keep looking.”

Jihoon sighs, but he and Giselle reluctantly follow as you start walking again. 

Haechan didn’t betray you. You were going to believe in this. And you’re going to find him, no matter what.

12 HOURS AFTER THE INCIDENT:

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor is the first thing Haechan registers as he slowly comes to. His body feels heavy, his limbs weighted down as though they’re not his own. He tries to move, but the sharp sting radiating from his side stops him.

“Where…” he croaks, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. His throat feels like sandpaper.

“You’re awake.”

The unfamiliar voice makes him flinch. His head turns slowly, and he squints through the bright, sterile light. A nurse stands by his bedside, adjusting the IV bag hanging from a metal pole. She’s wearing a kind smile, but there’s a shadow of concern in her eyes.

“Where am I?” he manages, his voice rasping.

“You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital,” she says gently. “You were brought in last night. Do you remember anything?”

His mind feels like it’s wrapped in fog. He struggles to piece together fragments of memory, but it’s all blurry—flashes of faces, the sound of a scream, and an overwhelming sense of fear. His stomach twists.

“I… I don’t know,” he admits. “What happened?”

The nurse hesitates. “You were found unconscious in the middle of the road. You have some injuries—a fractured rib, a concussion, and some deep bruising. You’re lucky someone called the paramedics when they did.”

Someone. Who? His thoughts race, but they’re disjointed, scattered.

“Was I… alone?” he asks, his voice trembling.

The nurse’s expression flickers with hesitation. “There were others. Two men—they were taken to surgery for more severe injuries—and a woman. She’s stable now but hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

Haechan’s breath catches. A woman. His mind scrambles for answers. The image of a smile—sharp, too wide—flickers in his memory, and a chill runs down his spine.

“Who… who is she?” he whispers.

“We don’t know yet,” the nurse replies. “The police are looking into it.”

Police.

His heart races, and the beeping of the monitor speeds up with it.

“Easy,” the nurse says quickly, pressing a hand to his shoulder to calm him. “Don’t push yourself too hard. You need to rest.”

Haechan squeezes his eyes shut, trying to slow his breathing. But his mind won’t stop spinning. Through the haze, he catches snippets of conversation from outside the room.

“…police said they found them restrained…”

“…looks like they were attacked…”

“…the woman was armed. Dangerous.”

Haechan’s stomach churns. He wants to ask, to demand answers, but his body betrays him, too weak to do anything but listen.

The nurse finishes adjusting the machines and steps back. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. If you need anything, press the call button, okay?”

He nods faintly, though he doesn’t feel okay. Not even close.

2 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The bar is alive with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the faint hum of music from the jukebox in the corner. Haechan leans back in his seat, laughing at a joke Jaemin just cracked. His glass is nearly empty, condensation sliding down the sides as he swirls the last bit of his drink absently.

It’s been a good night. Lighthearted, carefree. Exactly what he needed after a long week.

But then, his phone vibrates on the table, cutting through the noise. Haechan picks it up, glancing at the screen casually. The glow of the display reflects in his eyes, and in an instant, the ease in his expression vanishes.

His smile falters. His face drains of color.

The others don’t notice at first, too caught up in their conversation. But as Haechan’s eyes scan the message, his fingers tighten around the phone, his knuckles turning white. His shoulders stiffen, and his breathing becomes shallow.

“Everything okay?” Jaemin asks, nudging him lightly.

Haechan doesn’t answer right away. His gaze is fixed on the screen, his lips pressed into a thin line. His thumb hovers over the screen as though debating whether to respond, but instead, he locks the phone and places it face down on the table.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters, his voice low.

Jaemin frowns, his brows knitting together. “You good?”

Haechan forces a nod, though his expression betrays him. “Yeah. Just… need some air. Plus I need to make a quick call.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs his jacket and stands, weaving through the crowded bar toward the exit. His movements are quick but shaky, his shoulders slightly hunched as if trying to make himself smaller.

As he passes by the bar, he doesn’t notice the woman from earlier sitting at the corner, watching him intently. She swirls her drink lazily, her red-painted nails tapping against the glass in a rhythmic pattern.

Her eyes follow him as he pushes open the door and steps into the cold night air. A smirk spreads across her face, sharp and knowing. She lifts her glass, taking a slow sip, and sets it down with deliberate precision.

Her fingers curl around the edge of the glass, tightening until her knuckles strain. The corners of her mouth twitch as if she’s holding back a laugh.

“Right on time,” she murmurs to herself, her voice drowned out by the noise of the bar.

30 MINUTES AFTER THE INCIDENT:

Flashing red and blue lights cast frantic, distorted shadows across the street, the wail of sirens blending with the hum of voices—police officers, paramedics, and onlookers.

You stand frozen at the edge of it all, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your chest feels like it’s caving in, your pulse racing so fast it blurs the world around you. It’s too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too real.

“Y/N!”

Sunoo’s voice snaps you out of your stupor. He reaches you in seconds, his hands gripping your shoulders as if to anchor you. “Breathe,” he urges, his voice trembling. “You have to breathe.”

But how can you? How can you breathe when the man you love might be—

You blink hard, tears streaming down your face, and your gaze shifts to the ambulance parked nearby. Paramedics wheel someone out on a stretcher, their face obscured by oxygen masks and bloodied bandages.

Haechan.

Your knees buckle, and Sunoo catches you before you hit the ground. “Stay with me,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “He’s alive, Y/N. He’s alive.”

But alive doesn’t mean okay. Alive doesn’t mean safe.

Jihoon and Giselle appear beside you, their faces pale and grim. Giselle’s hand wraps around yours, squeezing tightly. “We don’t know what happened,” she says, her voice hushed but firm. “But he’s in good hands now. They’ll do everything they can.”

You nod, but it’s hollow. Empty. The truth is, you don’t know if anything will be enough.

None of this adds up. And it’s eating at you.

The stretcher disappears into the ambulance, the doors slamming shut behind it. The sirens start again, louder this time, and you flinch as the vehicle speeds away into the night.

“What if this is it?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Giselle shakes her head. “Don’t think like that.”

But you can’t help it. Your mind spirals, filling in blanks with the worst possible scenarios. Did he crash his car? Was it an attack? Did that woman—

You double over, clutching your stomach as the weight of it all hits you. “I should’ve stopped him,” you sob. “I should’ve done something.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jihoon says firmly, though his own voice shakes. “Whatever happened, it’s not your fault.”

A police officer approaches, his face grim. “Are you Y/N?”

You nod, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “Yes. Is he—what happened? Is he okay?”

The officer hesitates, his eyes flickering to your friends before settling back on you. “We’re still piecing everything together, but… it doesn’t look like an accident.”

Your blood turns cold. “What do you mean?”

“We’ll need your statement,” the officer continues. “But for now, all I can say is… this was deliberate.”

The word hits you like a slap, leaving you breathless.

Deliberate.

“Do you know who might have done this?” the officer asks, pulling out a small notepad.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Because the truth is, you don’t know. You don’t know who she is. You don’t know why Haechan was with her. And you don’t know why this happened.

As the officer steps away, your gaze shifts to the darkened street where it all began. The ambulance is gone, the chaos fading as the night swallows the scene whole.

And as your friends hold you in comfort, you can only wonder. How did everything go wrong?

part 2 maybe 😛😛 ?????

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[bekkachaos]

Saturday Sentences ✨

because I missed Friday and it's too early to be Sunday

tagged by @circledwithaheart for Friday fun, here's something I've been working on.

Buck's impossibly large hand rests on his hip, fingers reaching just above his waist to press gently over the fabric of his loose shirt. His other hand his helping to prop up his head as he lays beside him. One of Eddie's rests just above his elbow while the other has his fingertips in the curls at the back of Buck's head.

He knows his heart is pounding, of course it is, they've never done this before. It's taken a long time to get here but Eddie's ready, he knows he is, doesn't mean it's not still a little bit... weird.

Buck leans in to kiss him, soft and slow, kissing at his bottom lip and then at the corner of his mouth. Eddie just closes his eyes and lets himself kiss back for just a moment more.

"So do you..." Buck began, murmuring the words into his skin. "I mean, you do want to..."

He had been so careful throughout this whole thing, making sure Eddie was comfortable, letting Eddie make the first move. He'd been perfect, Eddie was the one tending to make things difficult.

"Yeah," he said quickly, not wanting to give Buck any reason to doubt, because there wasn't any. "What are we, um... I mean who's..."

God he was not being smooth.

He thought this might be easier given how much progress they've made lately and also how much he wants this.

Buck just looked down at him. Patiently waiting for him to get his words out. Eddie, just sighed and gave his arm a squeeze.

"I'm sorry, I guess I just don't really know what I'm doing here," he admitted.

Buck's hand slid up and back against his hip, his fingertips finding the edge of his shirt and slipping under it only slightly, enough to stroke his skin and turn it hot under his touch.

"That's okay," Buck says with a warm smile and a breath that's bordering on a chuckle.

Eddie cocks an eyebrow playfully.

"Are you laughing at me?" he asks and that only makes Buck smile harder.

"No I'm not, I promise," he said and his tongue ran over the line of his lip. "You're just cute when you're nervous."

Eddie rolled his eyes and grunted a little which only seemed to spur on the adoring look on Buck's face.

"I shouldn't be this nervous," he said. "It's not like it's my first time or anything." Buck does laugh this time.

"I mean, it kind of is."

Before Eddie has the good intention to scowl at him, he pauses because, well, he's kind of right.

He lets himself laugh along with Buck who drops his head to rest on Eddie's shoulder for just a moment.

"Look I... I don't have any expectations here," he looked up into Eddie's eyes. "We can go as slow as you like and stop whenever you want. We don't even have to—"

"I don't—" he cut him off and Buck's fingers stilled on his side. "I'm kind of tired of taking things slow. I don't want to stop."

He all but whispered the last part, and Buck's lips were leaning in to catch his in a tender kiss, filling them with a little more heat and letting his thumb strum over the waistband of Eddie's boxers.

"Okay," he murmured, lips kissing between Eddie's bottom lip and chin. "So... let's maybe start with something you're used to."

"Something I'm used to?" Eddie asked and Buck began to scoot down the bed.

Oh, that.

He just nodded in reply, words a little lost in his dry throat.

"I can throw these covers over if you want," Buck said, adjusting the sheet over his shoulders. "If it makes it easier to pretend I'm someone else for—"

"Buck," Eddie shook his head and reached out to put his fingers against his chin and cheeks, turning his gaze up to him. "We're here because I want it to be you. I don't want it to be anyone else. I'm ready.

Buck's cheeks flush and he gives Eddie a bashful smile and nods while he slips his fingers deeper beneath Eddie's waistband.

tags for anyone who has stuff to share!

@monsterrae1 @thelikesofus @eddiebabygirldiaz @bi-buckrights @dr-shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @smilingbuckley @lonelychicago @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @jackluvsdaniel @morose-fan @bidisasterevankinard @wh0rebehavi0r @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @daffi-990 @eddieera @honestlydarkprincess @wildfluorescent @diazsdimples @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @jesuisici33 @tizniz @bucksbiawakening @gayhoediaz @inell @whatwouldeddiedo @bigfootsmom

[suplicyy]

heyy hope you’re gonna take this request, can you write something about canon kuroo confessing?

No time skip please. Like with a female reader which doesn’t act in love with him like the rest of the girls, she’s not pick me or stuff like this.

So Kuroo can do nothing but finally talk to her because he can’t stand the fact that she’s different from other girls.

I can’t really picture canon Kuroo confessing, that’s why I’m asking, I really like your writing!

Thank u so much

Notice me Please!!!

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

— Summary: He has his eyes on you, but for some reason you don't look back.

— Tags/Genre: Fem!Reader | Fluff

— Warnings: None!

Kuroo drums his fingers impatiently on his desk, and with one hand resting on his chin, he stares at your figure across the classroom. You seemed quite entertained listening to music, which he has no idea what it is, but that sight makes him feel something inside him.

Frustration. He admit that he can't stand seeing you like this, because you're never like that when he tries to talk to you, and that made him feel a kind of jealousy, even if it was for something inanimate.

Every time you talked to him, you seemed indifferent, almost as if you were uninterested. Damn, why don't you look at him with the same twinkle in your eye when you're listening to something on your stupid headphones?

It's been a while since Kuroo started to have strong feelings for you, your heart skips a beat every time you pass each other in the school hallways, with Kuroo always looking back when you pass by him. But he never revealed that to you of course.

And no matter how many bad jokes or flirtations he told you, how many little gifts he left in your locker or on your desk in secret and then hinted that he was the one who left them there, it seemed like you never cared about his desperate actions for your attention.

At first, he thought this was just the way you acted, that you were more shy and reserved. But then he noticed the giggles you had with your friends, how talkative you seemed to be around them.

Now he thinks the problem is with him, that maybe you hate his presence, or just don't care about him.

He is a relatively popular person at school. His volleyball team reached the Nationals, which gave great prominence to all the team members, especially him. So it's no surprise to hear girls gossiping about Kuroo in the hallways.

To tell the truth, he didn't care much about it, sometimes he would even tease Yaku for having more fans than him, but that was it.

The only person he craves attention from is you.

But he doesn't know if you feel the same way, or at least care about his existence.

So that's why today would be the day he would bring the whole truth to light. His only option now would be to confess to you. Maybe it was a last choice made out of desperation and doubt, but he can no longer bear your indifference towards him.

Your club activities are over, so you can finally go home after a tiring day of boring classes and uninteresting people.

Now, you were walking towards the school exit, but you soon stopped when you saw a certain boy with a peculiar hairstyle standing at the gate, almost as if he was waiting for someone.

You figured he was waiting for Kenma to go home since they were best friends, so you didn't care much about it and continued walking to the exit.

"Hey, [Name]!"

A familiar voice calls you. And as you turn to the side, you see Kuroo walking towards you, waving at you.

"Let's go home together, shall we?" you look around, and then you look at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you going with Kenma?" "He said he needed to go somewhere else to buy a new game, something like that. And since I'm alone... I thought about going with you."

He gives you a smile that would make anyone fall in love immediately, but it never seemed to have any effect on you.

You looked at him with an enigmatic expression, almost as if you want to read him through his actions and words. "Um, sure." You say as you adjust your backpack hanging on your shoulder, soon starting to walk, with Kuroo by your side.

Your house wasn't that far from the school, but in the situation you were in, it felt like an eternity had passed since you left the school gates and started walking.

Neither of you exchanged a single word, except for Kuroo who was humming some random song.

"Y'know..." he says after a moment, which made you direct your gaze to him, who was still staring at the path ahead.

"I once heard you listening to this song. You turn your music up so loud that anyone who passes by can hear it coming from your headphones." your expression changes to one of surprise.

"S-Seriously? I never realized that..." you laugh awkwardly, looking away to the floor.

"Yeah... but it's not because of music or headphones that I called you to walk with me." Kuroo stops walking unexpectedly, making you stop too.

Looking back, you notice his expression is more serious, almost as if he is a little nervous.

"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you."

His tone of voice seemed to have changed too, which left you confused, or even a little nervous, as much as you didn't want to admit it.

"I...like you, [Name]." As he uttered these words, it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from the boy's shoulders, his previously tense posture allowing himself the luxury of relaxing, even if for a brief moment.

However, the opposite seemed to manifest in you. Previously unconcerned about what this simple walk would offer you, it was almost as if your breath was suddenly caught in your throat. Your heart soon feels like it's leaving your body, hammering in your chest in a fast, nervous rhythm.

"Huh?" you say in disbelief at what you heard. Shock quickly turns to annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "Look... don't think this kind of joke is funny, because you won't hear me laugh about it."

"Joke? Why would you think that?" Kuroo says this right after with a nasal laugh.

He walks closer to you, and you instinctively step back, until your back is in contact with a large tree that was close to the sidewalk. He stops right in front of you, and looks at you with a touch of doubt, almost as if he had heard something incredible.

"Why do you think I would make fun of something like that? You- my feelings for you... would never be a joke to me." he says with an affectionate tone, his eyes softening for a moment as he maintains eye contact with you.

"Maybe this could have been just a challenge your friends arranged for you, like in those cliché movies." your tone conveys sarcasm, but with a touch of bitterness "Or maybe some pretty girl rejected you, and is now looking for solace in anyone even remotely close to you..." "Or even-"

Your words are cut off as you feel Kuroo's lips land tenderly on your cheek. His hand reaches out to cup the other side of your face, and the other lands on the tree behind you, pinning you there.

"I like you, [Name]." he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "And I will tell you this until you can't prove otherwise."

Kuroo takes his hand off the tree and takes your hand, then looks at you seriously. "And I mean it."

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly compose yourself, and a small smile appears on your face, but this time it's genuine.

"Hmm, so you want to win me over, huh?" you push yourself away from the tree, placing your free hand on his shoulder. Your sudden closeness makes Kuroo surprised, making him suddenly feel shy.

"Only words won't convince me... you better work hard for it, Tetsurou." you move away from him, and start opening your backpack, looking for your headphones.

You give a small wave to Kuroo, but without turning towards him, focusing only on the path in front of you.

Dumbfounded, Kuroo waves back, his cheeks dyed with pink in embarrassment.

"Thank you for accompanying me, but I can go on my own from here." You say as you fit your headphones onto your head, putting on a random playlist that you made in honor of your little crush, who is definitely not Kuroo Tetsurou (it is).

— A/N: Uh........hi........I'm back.............

First of all, I want to apologize a thousand times to whoever sent me this request, I'm really sorry it took me SO LONG to post this. In addition to apologizing to everyone who follows me here, for not having given any sign of life for more than a month....😭

I really don't have a real excuse for doing this other than a total of 0 creativity and several hours of my life in hell (school), so I really needed to take this time for myself, until I felt more comfortable coming back here again.

I'm currently feeling quite creative artistically, mainly because I'm watching MHA again (which I'll probably bring here on my page) and also because I'm reading the Haikyuu manga. Plus, I passed pretty much every subject at school, so I don't have to worry so much about grades.

So...I'm officially back now!! I apologize again, and in compensation for this, I am already writing 3 more new things for you (2 are from MHA😜😜🤪); and I also won't open requests until I finish writing these, so stay tuned!!

[profundcherrylady]

EMPRESS!READER X NESS

A/N: Y'all did I cook? Ngl I never thought I would write something like this but I guess I just love Ness THAT much. Tagging @aleixis because this idea was theirs 🙏 Hope y'all like it.

Warnings: Cursing a little, mentions of violence.

Contents: I think there's a bit of a weird power dynamic... also there's like a small harem (4 others aside from Ness) (I died of embarrassment writing 😭). Empress reader is a bit of a bitch to the boys I'm so sorry. I'm starting to think all of this should be in the warnings.

Description: After recently conquering an empire, the empress recieves Ness as a gift.

Ruthless was the word to describe it.

The soldiers had charged into battle and invaded the München Empire as if it was just a regular tuesday, because it kind of was. Invading and making the empire bigger was like a routine followed by the army every day of the week, so really they stood no chance. You, as the empress, standing tall and strong, had even made the Micheal Kaiser shiver in his boots, because if her army was that strong then he couldn't imagine how their ruler was like. And so, to pay his respects and hope to recieve at least some mercy, he decided to make a gift.

"Alright Ness, you're up." he instructed, and Ness weirdly couldn't have been happier.

"Me? I'm the gift?" he was THRILLED to know Kaiser considered him worthy enough to be a gift, so he gave no complaints when he found out he was going to be ripped out of his country and family to be given to a merciless empress. "I don't know what to say... do you really see me as something good enough to be a gift?"

"Sure, let's go with that..."

His first day at your palace? Absolute bliss. You glanced at him once and dismissed him but he felt so lucky!

Ness was so head over heels already, you were sure this boy would do anything for you. It was strange, but somehow you' rather it like this. For starters you didn't even want to accept Kaiser's gift, but Isagi — your royal advisor — recommend you did as, in his words, it would show you have some humanity that citizens would need to keep on trusting you, and you for sure didn't need anybody planning on taking you down. You'd rather it be out of fear but this works too.

Besides, you didn't need to entertain him. You had four more men by your side that could do the job for you, so then you took him to meet them. Hopefully he'd be too busy talking or arguing with them to bother you.

"Alright boys, listen up. Ness was gifted to me recently; he'll be staying with you from now on. Be nice, I have to go." and with that, you left, leaving Ness infront of these four strangers and no real interest on interacting with them.

"Um... hi, I'm Alexis Ness, I hope we can all get along-"

"Shut your goddamn mouth." he was interrupted by a sharp voice, footsteps getting closer, left with no room to speak as he kept getting interrupted. "Don't think we're going to become friends or that we'll be nice just because you're new here. You want the attention of our Empress? You want her to look at you? You want to care for you? You'll have to earn that right just like everybody else here."

"What did I say...?"

"Don't mind Rin." a second voice continued, stepping forward as well and standing next to them. "He's just a little grumpy because our Empress hasn't even looked at him in the past month." he teased, earning a side glare and a scowl from Rin.

"She hasn't talked to you, either."

"Lies. She laghed at one of my jokes the other day."

"You wish." he countered, turning around to face him completely. "Absolute blasphemy. As if something you said could ever be that funny."

"All I'm saying is don't take it out on poor Ness; he just got here."

"Yeah, I just got here."

"Didn't I tell you to shut your mouth?"

"Come on Rin, our Empress has been difficult lately. You can't blame her; she's been busy. But she's not going to spend time with you if you treat Ness this badly. Remember? She said: 'Be nice'. Are you being nice?"

"Smartass. You think you're so intelligent, don't you Chigiri? I know what she said."

"So stop going against her orders then?" a third, sleepy voiced joined in the conversation as the third person in the room rose from his sleep and yawned, not even bothering in getting up. "She's going to get mad at you if you keep this up."

"I'm so over all of you..."

"Nagi's telling the truth. You're being so salty, and for what?" the last voice continued. "I'm pretty sure our Empress will be angry when she finds out you've been disobeying her~"

"Shut the fuck up, Reo."

Needless to say, Ness' first days at the palace we something. So maybe he didn't exactly get along with Rin, but the rest of them were nice! They all shared the same desire to win your affection, at the end of the day, even though there was some obvious rivalry going on between all of them to achieve that goal.

But he certainly didn't expect them to laugh when he told them his plan to win your affection.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Sweet, naive, stupid Ness." Reo chuckled. "If there's something about our Empress that you need to know, is that we're already tried everything, and THAT certainly won't work. She's an Empress! She has everything. What kind of gift would you expect would satisfy her high standards? Believe me, I've tried, there's no use."

"No shit. Reo once gifted her a thousand flowers, but she merely looked at them for a second."

"If you're looking for her to notice you, that's not the way to do it."

"Still... I want to! I just want to show our Empress my appreciation!"

"You do you, I guess..."

"But we've already tried everything." Chigiri continued. "I've dressed in the fanciest clothing to apeal her, but gotten nothing more than a glance..."

"I try being lazily cute around her." Nagi followed. "It only worked the frist few times... I suppose she's grown tired of it."

"I give her gifts, and Rin tries complimenting her, yet nothing seems to work."

Ness was dumbfounded, but his determination didn't flatter. He would get to your heart, one way or another! And when he did, they would all see... he just needed to try harder, so he could become your favorite! Just the thought of it made a surge of warmth spread through his chest. Him, your FAVORITE... you could have any man you wanted but you chose him... he relished in his owm fantasy, not realizing how much there was until that actually became true.

Little did he know, his innocent attitude and genuine adoration were already starting to warm you up.