#was having a more dramatic lighting in mind but It kinda stopped there and I'm not mad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bananayuyu · 1 month ago

Text

just friends (1) - beginning of the end

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 10.4k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, blurred lines around consent, non-negotiated stuff, face slapping, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral (f receiving), masturbation

a/n: should I write more for them? I'm kinda invested now, and I have thoughts. lmk <33

next part -> | series masterlist | read it on ao3

Soft, hazy light floated in through the window, the slowly falling snow coating the sky and buildings outside. Downtown the streets were empty, only a handful of cars driving their way through the grey streets, not a face or head to be found anywhere in the cold, dry air.

In the short few moments of waking you were completely disoriented, used to the bright hot sun waking you sharply in the early afternoon, your morning. The gentle light reminded you of night, of those long summer days when you tucked into bed just as the sun was rising. It was a comforting light, but one that made you sleepy, and the air was colder than it should have been in the desert, this late January day.

You closed your eyes, pushing back under the covers, shifting over to San's side of the bed and wiggling your way under his arm. A groan followed; he hated being bothered when he was trying to get his all important rest, and you knew that, but the air was too damn cold in his room, and you couldn't stand it.

"Baby," he whispered, moving his head to kiss you on the cheek, before gently trying to extract your limbs from his body. You whined; the loss of contact made you shiver, and your naked body felt exposed even under his thick comforter, your feet so cold you were sure you could barely feel them. "Don't do that," he sighed, but you whined again, wrapping yourself around him a second time. "Baby, seriously-" he was cut off by you climbing over him, legs straddling his hips as you rested your head next to his on his pillow.

"It's cold," you sniffled, making it almost sound like you were crying, and fuck did that do things to him, things he couldn't explain. Already he could feel his cock twitch; your naked body wrapped around his, plush thighs pushing down on the sides of his hips and abdomen, your hot breath on his ear. It couldn't have been more than a few hours ago since you were in this exact position, screaming and crying his name as you came undone, and he couldn't stop replaying it, especially as you wiggled around on top of him, your thigh crazing his cock more than once and only adding to his arousal.

"Baby, I need sleep," he chided, trying to do what he knew he should, trying to be responsible. But he could never be responsible when it came to you; that was the problem. You drove him insane, had him wrapped around you so tightly, it would take the strength of a thousand men to pull him free.

"But I'm cold," you whined, snuggling more. You were still barely awake; last night had been a particularly crazy shift at the bar, and after pulling apart five fighting girls and dancing an extra two numbers to cover for your sick coworker, your body was grasping for every bit of rest it could find.

"You're pissing me off," he grunted below you, hands holding your hips firmly in place so you'd stop moving, stop making his body react in ways he so badly wished he could control.

"Ow," you dramatically whined, pretending those hands gripping into you felt anything but delicious and tantalizing. Heat was shooting through you now, his low, angry voice in your ear, and without even noticing your mind had already slipped into it's lustful, edgy space, one that it always seemed to drift to when he was around.

"So fucking dramatic," he sighed, still holding your hips hard, trying desperately to stop you. But your body had a mind of its own, and even if you'd wanted to stop it you wouldn't have been able. Your hips ground down onto his, as much as they could with him limiting you, and you felt the hard length of his cock under your right thigh, shifting yourself slightly to rub it up and down the length of your slit.

Immediately you both groan, the feeling electric. The room was still so dim, both of you still so sleepy, but your bodies woke themselves up; there was nothing either of you could do to stop it.

"Stop it," San growled in your ear, but you couldn't. It felt too fucking good when the tip of his now rock hard length hit your clit. His hands shifted up to your waist, trying what he could to limit you there. But it only freed up your hips more, and immediately you pushed them down even harder, nearly accidentally slipping him inside you.

"I said, stop," he spat, grabbing your hips again and lifting them off him slightly, making your movements awkward. You kept grinding, trying to find some friction somewhere, whining at the lack of it.

"Baby," he said again, trying to get your attention. "Are you not fucking listening??"

"Mmghfm," you mumbled beside him, pushing yourself up by your arms a bit to try to get leverage for your hips. You wanted to push them down again, hump the length of his cock till you couldn't move. But San had other plans, his anger boiling up so quickly he had little time to think. As your face rose above his he took his right hand from your hip, reaching up and slapping you hard, all breath leaving your lungs in shock. Grabbing your neck with the same hand, he moved you face to face with him, staring deep into your eyes and squeezing down ever so slightly.

"I said stop, did you not fucking hear me?!" he spat, an almost crazed expression on his face. You gulped; you'd never seen him quite like this, and he'd never done that before, that being physically striking you. You wondered for a moment in the haze of your head if it was okay, what was happening; but all the same you felt your pussy clench hard, the ghost of an orgasm washing over your core even if nothing was touching you down there.

"Are you trying to fucking piss me off?!" he continued, your blank expression giving him nothing. It was so unclear to him sometimes what the hell you wanted; him, not him, nothing at all, everything? He could only give you so much, and he knew deep down it was never enough for you. But sometimes you stared at him so blank, like now, as if you didn't have a care in the world. As if none of it mattered, not him, not life, nothing. His grip on your neck wouldn't cease; he couldn't find it in himself to let up, because last night he'd specifically asked to be left alone, desperately needing the rest that you'd been so selfishly stealing from him all month.

"Sannie, please-" you tried to grab at his hand on your neck, but it only made him squeeze harder, your head feeling light in an instant. "San, san-" you were pleading now, tears actually brimming in your eyes, genuine panicked tears that did nothing to make him feel bad for you. They only shot right down to his cock, already hard and leaking, and he lost his head completely, giving in entirely to the feelings inside.

He flipped you over in an instant; the comforter was nearly thrown off the bed, still draped over only half of your joined bodies, the cold making goose bumps rise on your arms, your nipples peaked sharply. His hand was still on your throat, and now he held you down onto his pillow, lining himself up as fast as he could and slamming into you hard, making you call out in shock and pain and pleasure.

He'd had it with you, with always doing what you wanted, always waiting around for when you wanted it. He was taking what he wanted now; using you just for his own pleasure, in a way he knew he'd completely regret later, a way that was unfair, disrespectful, unkind. He knew it, even then as he slammed into you stroke after stroke, the lewd noises of skin slapping filling his room, but he couldn't stop himself. He felt too good, too powerful. He felt like he was taking something that was his to take, that he'd been holding back from for an eternity. He was surprised he'd managed to wait this long.

And how was he supposed to hate himself for doing this when the look on your face screamed pure bliss? You were so wet, your cunt flushed and ready for him, and even though your moans sounded twinged with fear, he knew you were fucking loving this. He was hitting your cervix repeatedly, and your legs were shaking uncontrollably as you came, the feeling barely reaching your head with the lack of oxygen. You body had never felt better; writhing and struggling against him was getting you nowhere, of course, but you'd always seemed to fall easily into fighting with him. You'd never done it in this way, so physically, but it felt right all the same.

You came two times in quick succession; as he flipped you over he saw a wet patch on his sheets, a dark chuckle exiting his mouth. He shoved your face down into his pillow, pulling your ass up towards him. The bun you'd put your hair in last night hung slightly to the side, messed up by your night of sleep, smalls strands escaping and hanging messily around your neck and cheeks. He grabbed onto it, fingers lacing through your hair as he slammed back into you again, your moans even more desperate and pathetic as you tried to make sense of it all.

It only took a few hard strokes for you to come again, the angle so deep you felt like you were being ripped open from inside. Trembling and spasming around him, San felt fucking amazing, dropping your head to place both hands on your hips and fucking you harder than he ever had, his head thrown back in disbelief and pleasure.

He came hard, the feeling shuddering through him, the muscles of his stomach clenching hard. There were tears and snot covering your face, now cum dripping out of your cunt as he pulled out, letting your body slump hard against the bed. He quickly pulled the covers over you both, collapsing beside you, your bodies sticky with sweat and already shivering. But despite the frigid air, the sex had taken it out of you; you both fell into a deep slumber within minutes.

When you woke again, it was to San's hand running through your hair.

"Hey, it's 4:30," he whispered, but there was urgency to his tone, because he knew just how bad this was.

It took you a moment to wake up, yawning and stretching in the warmth of his bed, stickiness still clinging to your skin. "What do you mean, 4:30?" you asked, the light in the room even dimmer than it was the last time you woke.

"4:30pm," he sighed, holding his phone screen to you.

"Fuck, fuck," you muttered, jumping up, nearly sprinting to his bathroom to relieve your screaming bladder. You were supposed to be to work in fifteen minutes, which you knew was not going to happen; still, you were determined not to be too late. You could text your boss any number of excuses, and were sure she'd forgive you. You were one of her more reliable employees, and she'd let this shit slide with you before. But you'd tried not to make a habit of it, even if sometimes you got caught up in the things in life that really made your heart happy. Your art, your friends, the boy you were fucking. Your work was chaotic; never the same day to day, and the rest of your life had to follow suit. It was just a part of this work, this life you'd chosen for yourself. You wouldn't give it up for anything.

With a quick swipe of a damp towel you washed your crotch, wiping free as much of the remnants of your frenzied fuck earlier as you could. You didn't have time to think of it now, frantically pulling out your hair tie and brushing your hair with your fingers, splashing water in your face to freshen up. You'd have to slap on some makeup at work today, which should be fine if everyone else showed up for their shifts on time. There was always some performer or server running in late, always someone in the dressing room begging to borrow makeup or bobby pins or hair spray. You tried not to let that be you, but shit happened. For some god forsaken reason you'd slept in so late, and it pissed you off even if you tried to not care.

Busting out of the bathroom you ran over to your bag, flipping through to check that you still had your makeup, wallet, keys. You grabbed for the clothes you had set out for yourself yesterday, slipping on the loose sweats and one of San's hoodies, not even bothering with a bra or underwear. You hoped the clothes would stop your shivering, but the room was shockingly cold still, and seemed only to be getting colder.

"Do you have any long socks I can borrow?" you asked San, picking up your head and finally actually looking at him, his face a confusing mixture of concerned and distant. He reached into his dresser and tossed you some, black and thick and definitely too big. But you'd need them today for your short walk, if the temperature inside was any indication. You snatched your phone off his bedside table now, pulling up the chat with your boss, shooting off a quick and uninspired text. I'm running a few minutes late today, I needed some extra rest after last night.

No problem, I'm sure everyone's running late cause of the snow. See you soon, she responded.

"Snow..?" you asked to the room, almost forgetting where you were.

"Yeah," San sighed, staring past you out the window, his 10th floor apartment giving a stunning view of the frigid city outside.

"Fuck," you muttered, shaking your head. You were planning on walking the only five blocks to the bar, like you always did. It never saved any time to get an uber or take the subway.

"Do you have to go?" he asked.

"Um, of course," you replied, looking in his direction with furrowed brows.

"The weather is awful, can't you just stay home for a night? Do they really need you...?" he drifted off, running a hand through his hair and sighing hard.

It was he, now, who must have wanted to piss you off.

"Just cause I don't work a 9 to 5, 100k salaried job, doesn't mean I'm not important at work," you snapped, moving to your bag again to put your phone inside, zipping the top closed.

"I didn't say-"

"I know, but I know what you're thinking. But the thing is, on days with shitty weather more people come into the bars and clubs and shit. So I'm very much needed tonight. Especially with Tina still sick. I have to go," you bit out, a deep sigh of your own escaping you.

"You're gonna freeze out there," he mumbled, eyes tracing the shape of you.

"I'll be fine," you sighed, shaking your head, but you feared it yourself. It was only five blocks, but you had no coat with you, no gloves or hat or scarf. And your trusty sneakers might not fare so well in this weather; you'd never tried wearing them in snow, because it hadn't snowed on a day you worked in years.

"I-" San started, hands resting on his hips. You noticed now, finally, as you set your packed bag by the door to his living room, that he was still naked.

"You're gonna freeze in here if you don't put on some clothes," you said, looking at him confused.

"Y/n, we need to talk," he sighed, turning around to face you head on, his beautiful body lit in shadows by the faint light of the room.

"That sounds serious," you joked, looking down to your bag again. "But I gotta go, I'm sorry." You grabbed it, slipping it over your shoulder, turning towards his bedroom door to open it.

"No, please, baby, I need say this now," he replied, walking behind you to hold the door closed, caging you in with his body.

"San, what?" you huffed, frustration bubbling in your throat.

"Was what just happened, you know, okay?" He stumbled over his words slightly, hot breath coming out of his mouth and fanning past your ear.

"Yes? What- why are you asking me that?" you replied, turning around to face him with a bewildered look.

"I just, I fucking slapped you and chocked you and- we've never talked about it, I-"

"It was fine," you muttered, turning yourself around again to exit.

"No, don't give me that," he responded, hand back on the door to keep you from leaving.

"Stop, let me go," you spat, trying to push against him.

"Y/n," he growled, his own frustration clear in his tone.

"I'm gonna be late," you replied, still not looking at him.

"It was fine?? Fine?? That's what you're fucking saying to me?!" he nearly yelled, smacking his hand against the door harder than he intended. You jumped, a visceral reaction; you bumped right into the hard wall of his body, nearly causing him to fall.

"Will you stop acting like a fucking man?!" you yelled back, stepping away from him and the door, catching your balance against the wall a few feet away.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he sighed, shaking his head, looking at you with upturned eyebrows.

"Get a hold of yourself," you said, softer, looking him up and down. "And put on some damn clothes, it's freezing."

You stayed put as he did, pulling on an outfit almost exactly matching yours, sweats and a hoodie. The air was tense between you now, not that it hadn't been almost the entire time you'd known him. But you'd never seen him lose control of his composure quite like this. You weren't scared, because with him you couldn't be; you were pretty sure you'd never be truly mad at him, even if he treated you in ways that made him deserve it. But he really never did, that's why you trusted him; you didn't know it on the surface, nor even three of four layers down, but buried deep within the depths of yourself there was a part of you that had marked him as safe, as good.

If you'd ever take the time to sit down and talk to that part, maybe you'd understand yourself better, the changes in you the past year. But instead you continued to throw yourself into your creative work, as you always did, cause it always worked for you before.

"How are you not shivering in here?" you finally asked, biting at a hangnail on your middle finger. Your whole interaction with him had left you a shaking mess, and you felt like you couldn't move from your spot, eyes glued to him and his every movement.

"I don't run cold, like you," he responded, moving to his closet without looking at you. Out of it he pulled a large navy blue jacket you'd never seen; a true winter coat, you realized. It was long enough to probably reach down to your ankles if you wore it, puffy and thick, clearly very warm. He then reached into a shelf in the closet, pulling down a pair of gloves and a black beanie, turning around to walk back to you.

"Come here, let me put these on you," he said, throwing the jacket and gloves on his bed, pulling the beanie over your messy hair.

"I can do it," you grumbled quietly, reaching for he gloves, but he grabbed the jacket, holding it out for you to slip into. Then he squatted all the way to the floor in front of you, zipping up the coat from the bottom, careful at the top not to snag any of your hair in the zipper.

"Thanks," you said. It was flat, and so was your expression, but he knew he was doing the right thing. There was no way you would let him walk you to work; he'd tried convincing you of that many times, only causing argument after argument.

"Are you coming back here tonight?" he asked, standing back and crossing his arms, as you picked up your bag again and moved towards his door.

"No, I'm going and staying at Tina's, we've got so much editing to do," you responded, finally opening the door and stepping into his living room; he followed you quickly, catching up to you.

"Isn't she sick?" he asked.

"Yeah, but we've got to get our current manuscript turned in by Tuesday morning. We have no choice," you answered, walking towards his front door.

"Wait, just give me a minute," he said as you reach for the door knob, hand outstretched in his comically big gloves.

"San-"

"I hate when you don't answer me straight," he says, interrupting you.

"Huh?" you ask, giving him a look of genuine confusion.

"Are you mad at me because of what I did? How rough I was?"

"Do I look mad?" you responded, head turning to the side.

"I hate when you do that," he sighs, shaking his head.

"Do what?" you snap, frustration boiling up again.

"Avoid my questions, give me vague answers," he says, hands on hips.

"I'm running late for work, god, I'm in a fucking rush! Why the fuck is that hard to understand?!" you scream, hand back on his doorknob in an instant.

"That's not why you're avoiding my questions, and you fucking know it," he replies, walking over to his kitchen. Out of his pantry he grabs chocolate coconut granola bar, your favorite flavor, stalking back to you as you open the door.

"Take this," he says, holding it out to you as you face him, your body halfway into the hall.

"They have food where I work, you know," you drawl, a scowl on your face.

"Not food that you like," he sighs, putting the bar in your pocket himself.

As he stands back up in front of you his face is hard, eyes unreadable and shiny, his hair sticking up lopsided. His hoodie is dwarfing his wide frame, his sweats hanging loose on the lower half of his legs. He looks uncertain, maybe almost scared, nothing like the sharp, glasses-wearing, utterly confident man who'd walked into your bar a year ago, his suit fitted and smooth and his smile easy.

"What if this isn't enough for me?" he said, his hands coming to rest in his pockets.

"Sannie..." trailed off, the urgency of needing to leave still tugging at you.

"I hate when it's like this," he says, sighing.

"Me too," you squeak, tears threatening to come. Your period must be due to arrive any minute, if you're crying that fucking easily. He walks forward, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead and hugging you tight, before turning you around and beckoning you forward, the rest of your day ahead of you.

"Hey girl, you good?" Sasha asked as you passed by the dressing room, nearly running to put your bag in your locker.

"Yeah, one sec!" you called to her, clumsily undoing your lock, shoving your bag inside. You ripped off your giant puffy coat, hanging it on the hook, desperately flinging off the rest of your clothes and grabbing your dressing gown. Then you unzipped your bag, grabbing your makeup, and rushed back to the dressing room out of breath.

"Did anyone call out?" you asked as soon as your reentered, sitting down next to your favorite coworker, her wig and eye makeup already set.

"No, everyone else is already here, surprisingly," she drawled, leaning closer to the mirror to start her lip liner. "Why are you late, miss thing?"

"I slept till like 4:30, accidentally," you replied, hastily zipping open your makeup bag and grabbing what you'd need for the night. You were covering Tina's number first, a circus inspired routine to Britney Spear's song, and your costume would do most of the work for you. All you needed was lashes, some bright lipstick, and powder, so that the floodlights didn't wash you out completely.

"That's not like you," Sasha said, switching to the other side of her lips, her hand working quickly and methodically to create the perfect line.

"Yeah, I don't know," you replied, with a deep sigh. You couldn't find your lash glue anywhere, and it was stressing you out more than it should have, seeing as there were probably hundreds of tubes of it in the very room in which you sat.

"You okay?" she asked, clicking open her lipstick and screwing it up.

"Just stressed, I hate being late," you said, finally finding the glue at the bottom corner of your bag.

"Julie moved Tina's number, so you're not on until after Jax," she replied, turning her head in every direction to check her finished face.

"Oh, that's nice," you said, your normal tone slipping into flatness again, as you shakily put glue onto the lashes you'd use for tonight.

"Girl, seriously, you good?" Sasha asked, turning to face you entirely.

"I think so," you replied, never able to keep things from her.

"Is it that man you're seeing?" she asked, making you roll your eyes and audibly scoff, sighing deeply.

"How fucking typical of me," you responded, shaking your head.

"What did he do?" she asked you, chin coming to rest on her hand.

"Nothing, just, he's the reason I'm late, that I overslept," you said, and suddenly the memory of everything that had happened just hours before wouldn't leave you. It especially wouldn't leave your body, the memory of your limbs and muscles of your core replaying it for you, as if that was something you needed right now.

"Well, well, well, I hope the sex is good still, at least," Sasha replied, with a brief chuckle. "It's still that same guy, right, the businessman?"

"He's in tech, Sash," you said, leaning forward yourself to place your lashes carefully.

"Oh, boo, they all look the same. Coming in here in those ridiculous suits. I always wonder how much they cost, probably more than my entire wardrobe," she laughed, shaking her head.

"I know, it's ridiculous," you sighed, but just then a bit of guilt ran through you as you thought of San's apartment, and of the trip you took to wine country last summer, of all the fancy outings and luxuries you've been able to experience on his dime.

"He isn't hurting you or anything, is he honey? I know you said you fight a lot, but it hasn't turned physical, right?" she asked now, and immediately you could tell she read something was off in your last response. She really had a way of doing that, not just with you but with everyone, and it could feel really damn exposing.

"No, no, nothing like that. Things were just weird earlier," you sighed, not wanting to elaborate. "We bicker a lot but like, in a fun way. Earlier it was, I don't know, just fucking weird. I don't know why it's stressing me out, we're just friends."

"Friendships can be the messiest of all relationships, don't you think?" Sasha responded, and you looked over to her, only one lash on. She was just a few years older than you, but sometimes you felt like she was your fairy godmother, or a beautiful genie who'd escaped into the world. She was too wise for you; in comparison to her you were a little larvae, still barely developed at all. "You tell me if anything really bad happens, okay hon? I can't have anyone mistreating you," she said, standing from her stool and wrapping her dress around herself, tying the tassels on the side.

"You know I would, I couldn't keep it from you if I tried," you said, leaning towards the mirror to do your other lash.

"Okay, good. I'll have to leave you soon, I think," she replied, sighing and leaning down to place an air kiss by your cheek.

"Okay, break a leg," you responded, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Sasha, Bibi is almost done!" comes a call from down the hall, and soon Ilya, the stage manager, was sticking his head through the open door, beckoning her.

"Yes darling, I'm coming," she said, sauntering out of the room, leaving you alone in the tiny room, with nothing but your reflection for company.

Tina's number went well, just as it had last night; it was more dance focused than any of your recent acts, but you enjoyed the opportunity to move your body more. It had been dance, first, that attracted you to the stage, and though you'd found so many other avenues to express yourself creatively over the years, you missed it. You wrote so much now; songs for others, for yourself, and of course the musical you and Tina had been slaving over for six months, desperately hoping that this could be the thing to finally break you into the world of show business.

The walk to Tina's apartment was easy, too, just as your walk earlier had been. The streets were cold and the snow was still falling, but the breeze was blowing everything sideways, and if you stuck to the right side of the buildings you barely felt it at all. It was now almost one in the morning, the downtown streets still empty, but the restaurants and bars were bustling with activity. You stalked up to Tina's building, a huge, grey, nondescript mass of concrete, and buzzed your way up. Her key sat on your chain right next to yours; a bright green sticker stuck to it so you could tell them apart.

When you entered she was laying flat on the couch, her laptop perched in front of her face, the only light in the room.

"Hey," she mumbled when she saw you, your makeup still on, hair in a rough bun again, San's jacket dwarfing you entirely.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" you asked, taking the two steps it took to reach her. The place was tiny, and she shared it with her girlfriend Maya, who had the beginnings of what might be a hoarding habit. There wasn't an inch of free space, save for some of the floor. Even that had stacks of books on it, boxes of half finished art projects, and more plants than one could count.

"Fucking terrible," she muttered, and you went to turn on the one lamp by their tiny kitchen so you could get a good look at her.

"Oh gosh, you look miserable," you said as you sat down next to her, her cheeks flushed so red, her eyes glossy with past tears.

"I keep throwing up," she said, staring over at the glass of water on the coffee table beside her. "I can barely keep down water."

"You said you just had a little cold," you scolded, placing your hand on her forehead, her skin fiery under your palm.

"I didn't want y'all to worry," she said, voice small.

"Is Maya sick too?" you asked.

"Yeah, but not quite as bad as me. She hasn't puked yet," Tina replied.

"You definitely have a fever, it feels bad," you said, taking your hand to feel her neck and chest too. "You should go to urgent care if you can't keep anything down."

"You know I'm not gonna fucking do that unless I'm literally dying," she replied, eyeing you.

"I know it's expensive, but it's your health, Titi," you said.

"I'm not going," she said, her words final.

"Have you been taking Tylenol? Or Ibuprofen? Drinking fluids, eating well, resting?" you asked.

"I'm trying. We ran outta Tylenol earlier today."

"I'll go get you some more," you sighed, opening your phone. "The Walgreens at the corner just closed, shit. It says they open at 6am tomorrow, I'll go get you some as soon as I wake up."

"Thank you honey," she responded, tears welling in her eyes.

"You gonna be okay?" you asked, looking down at her.

"Yeah, yeah, I just need to get some sleep. Maya was sleeping so soundly, I didn't wanna wake her. That's why I came out here. I'll go though, I need the rest," she replied, closing her laptop and placing on the coffee table, sitting herself up. Her face scrunched up in pain, her right hand rubbing at her left shoulder, and you knew she was feeling the aches of a fever.

"I'm worried about you, has it been this bad since Thursday?" you asked as she stood, shakily.

"I'm fine, it's only been the last two days. Don't waste your energy worrying, it'll be okay," she said, crossing the room towards her bedroom. "Goodnight," she said as she turned her head to you, before carefully opening the door knob to avoid any creaking.

"Feel better," you said, and she nodded at you, disappearing into the other room.

"Hey, you okay?" your twin answered, dozens of voices muffled and choppy coming through in the background.

"Yeah, sorry, I know you're at work, do you have like two minutes?" you responded, sighing in the darkness of Tina's living room. It was now almost two a.m., but you were pretty sure Micah was working nights this weekend, and you'd be able to catch her. Thankfully, you were right.

"I'm supposed to go take a break soon anyway, so yeah, lemme get out of here," she responded, the sounds of the hospital echoing and changing as she began walking down the hall to the break room.

"Okay," you said, waiting for the noice to die down. Then, once it did, "It's my friend Tina, she's really sick and I just don't know how serious it is. She said she hasn't been able to keep any food down all day, and she's been sick since Thursday."

"She got the flu?" your sister asked through the phone.

"I don't know, it's something. She had a bad fever when I got home, she just went to bed. She looked so bad though, and was hobbling around like an old lady. She was in so much pain."

"How bad's her fever?" she asked you.

"I don't know, we didn't test it," you sighed, knowing what was coming.

"Y/n...."

"I know, sorry, it was dumb for me to even call. I just wasn't sure what to do, it freaked me out..."

The line hung quiet for a moment, but you could hear her breathing, and it sounded almost labored.

"Does she have a thermometer?" she asked, and you stumbled up to the bathroom, combing through their drawers as quietly as you could.

"It doesn't look like it," you sighed, turning off the light as you exited.

"Well go get one tomorrow, and take her temp, and if it's ever 103 or above, take her to urgent care. Or if she can't keep down food again for another day. Try to get fluids in her, if you can. Water, broth, gatorade, tea, whatever she'll take. Of course do Tylenol, or Ibuprofen, or both if she needs it. If her fever isn't too bad, she should be okay, she just needs to rest," she said, the string of sentences coming out fast in a single breath.

"Okay, thank you," you answered her, sighing again. "Don't let me keep you, I know you're busy," you added, not wanting to add any more irritation to her day if you already had. You sometimes found it hard to know what exactly it was about you that irked her, but you always knew there was something. Even if she never said it, even if she always said she loved you, you felt the deep simmer of some other feeling coming from her, ever since you left home. Maybe it was the fact that you called so infrequently now, having done so since you moved for college. When you did call it was almost always something like this. But you couldn't help it; she was the only person you felt sure would always answer you, no matter what was going on between you two. Because that's how she was, that's how she'd always been. She was way more dependable than you, and everyone in your life had shoved that down your throat since you could remember.

"It's okay, tonight's not too crazy thankfully," she responded, her tone neutral. "I've been meaning to call you cause there's something I want to discuss, but I don't think we have the time right now. And I'm assuming you want to get to bed soon," she finished.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I should," you replied.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Well, Monday probably, I gotta catch up on sleep," she said.

"Yeah that's fine, I'll probably just be at home writing," you answered her, sucking in a breath.

"Okay, call me again if your friend gets worse. Or honestly, just take her to urgent care if it seems that bad. Don't chance it with health stuff," she replied, sounding more like your mother than someone your exact same age.

"Okay, I will. Thank you. Love you," you signed off.

"Love you too," she said, and you pulled your phone from your ear, ending the call.

You fell asleep fast and deep on Tina and Maya's couch; you were so used to it by now, over here at least once or twice every week, and the low hum of the refrigerator just feet from you had become a comforting source of consistent noice, drowning out the occasional chaos that accompanied this part of town. You resolved to get medicine for your friends tomorrow, try to make them some food, and then head home to work on the manuscript yourself. Tina was obviously in no place to help you, and if you holed up in your room and really focused, you should be able to finish the editing, no problem. Though you felt uneasy, you fell asleep fast, wrapped up in all three blankets you found draped over the back of the couch.

Early in the morning you were woken by the bang of a door; Tina was running out of her room, stumbling to the bathroom, doubled over the toilet and retching up every little bit of water she'd managed to get down the previous night. The room was so dark; their apartment only had one small window in the kitchen, and they liked to cover it in a little curtain to black out the room at night. Your head ached from the sounds, your body wracked with exhaustion. You grabbed your phone from the table beside you to check the time, squinting painfully at your screen, reading 6:59. It had been a long, long time since you'd been up at this hour, and every time it happened now your body screamed at you. You had your routine down perfectly; asleep by four or five in the morning, awake by noon or one in the afternoon. Last night you'd had little to do, without Tina to keep you awake, so you'd fallen asleep a bit earlier than usual. But still, that had only been a few hours ago. And you were someone who needed eight or nine hours a night, it was non negotiable.

Another painful wretch came from the bathroom; you tried to sit yourself up, your limbs feeling like lead. "Tina, is that you?" you called out, and got a groan in response, and then another empty, painful sounding sound.

"You okay?" you asked, stumbling over in her direction, almost no light to help guide your way.

"I don't know," she murmured, her voice thin and weak, her entire upper body draped over the seat of the toilet.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," you said, rubbing her back with your hand, kneeling down next to her.

"You shouldn't be here, I'm gonna get you sick," she squeaked, another heave making her body jerk.

"Don't think about that Titi, I'm here to help you. You're both sick, that fucking sucks," you said, hand still moving over the thin material of her shirt.

Just then you heard a door creak open again, followed by soft footsteps and a deep yawn.

"What's going on?" Maya asked as she entered the bathroom too, the three of you now taking up nearly all of the available space.

"She's still puking," you said, looking up at her, her curly hair flying in every direction, illuminated by their tiny night light.

"Fuck, babe, maybe you should go to the hospital," she said, a hand rubbing over her cheek.

"I don't wanna," Tina squeaked again, breathing slow and steady next to you, her grip on the toilet still severe.

"Tina," Maya said, but she knew as well as you there was no convincing her.

"I'm feeling a little better, I think the wave of nausea has passed," she said beside you, her voice sounding a little stronger.

"How are you doing?" you asked Maya, turning to face her more.

"I actually feel okay, just tired. I haven't gotten this puking at all, for some reason," she said, yawning again. "But I'm fucking wrecked, I feel like I could sleep another eight hours," she said, moving around you to reach down to her girlfriend.

"You should, y'all need rest," you said, giving them space. "I'll go get you guys some more meds and stuff, you both try to get more sleep."

"You don't have to, I know you must be exhausted," she responded, her kind eyes coming up to meet yours.

"Yeah, but I'm not sick like y'all. I'll be fine," you said, stepping out of the bathroom as Tina finally stood, Maya helping her walk to the sink.

"I need to brush my teeth," Tina mumbled, making a disgusted face as the taste of her own mouth, quickly pulling out her toothbrush. In another few moments you helped them both to their room, again feeling over your friend's forehead to see how she was faring. It felt better, a bit, but still warm. But you were so exhausted, your mind still nowhere to be found, and it was hard to feel anything. You left their room, closing the door carefully, and made your way back to the couch. You opened the tiny window in the kitchen; the light was soft, just like yesterday, bits of snow still falling through the sky. Their apartment was on the third floor, and closer to the ground you could see the snow collecting in the gutters, on the dead patches of grass, on the tops of the awnings lining the street.

You tried to pull on your shoes, zip up your coat, get yourself ready to face the air. But with the weather and your lack of sleep you just couldn't muster the courage, even as you knew your close friend was suffering so badly, and wouldn't accept any help unless you all but shoved it down her throat. The idea sprung in your mind, and you pushed it away at first; no way should you ask him for such a big favor, even if you could be pretty sure he was awake. Even if he was the only person you knew in this city who was guaranteed to be awake right now. You'd left his apartment in such a strange place only fifteen hours ago, and since then ignored the one text he'd sent. Please be careful, it's probably icy out there.

You hadn't meant to ignore him, but you were always off your phone during work. He knew that. And when you'd arrived here last night, things had been hectic. Tina was sick, and you were exhausted. Surely he'd understand? Of course he would. He always did. And as you shivered in your sweats and hoodie, in his hoodie, you thought, fuck it.

The call rang and rang, and when he didn't answer you quickly ended it, smacking your phone onto the stack of books beside you. Something like anger lanced through you, followed by hot, sickly shame, bubbling up from the pit of your stomach and making you feel nauseous. You didn't know why you'd expected him to answer, and now you knew you'd have to be a fucking big girl and go get the damn medicine yourself. You felt ridiculous for having called him; even more so for feeling angry at him not picking up. He didn't owe you anything, especially after last night, and besides, you always went days without seeing him or talking to him, anyway. Tears of frustration threatened to come, and you made a mental note to pick up some pads at the store too. You'd definitely be needing those soon.

But as you stood you saw your phone lighting up again; he was calling back, only a minute later, and you snatched it up to your ear after hitting answer.

"Hey," you said, voice groggy and whiny coming through the phone.

"You okay?" he asked, his own voice low and grumbly.

"Yeah, sorry, I don't want to bug you, but Tina is like really sick and she's run out of all her Tylenol and stuff, and I know the Walgreens that's just down the corner at 4th should have it, I just don't know if I can make it down there right now. I'm fucking dead." The words spilled out of you, a deluge of exhaustion and worry and desperation.

"You want me to go get some for you?" he asked, sighing in clear annoyance, even if he was trying to cover it up.

"Maybe," you answered, an almost whine, pushing the palm of your hand into your right eye socket, trying to alleviate some of the pain you felt there.

"What else do you need?" he asked, and you heard the beep of his tea kettle through the phone.

"Uh, a thermometer, if they have it, and something for her stomach too maybe, cause she keeps throwing up. And she needs fluids, so like gatorade, or something, whatever they have," you answer, trying desperately to remember every little thing your sister had told you last night.

"Okay, I can be there in probably like twenty minutes, that okay?" he asked.

"Okay," you sighed through he phone, a tiny bit of relief hitting your system.

"No thank you?" he asked, chuckling, but it stabbed right through your heart.

"San-" you started, taking a deep breath. You weren't going to let something so little trip you over the edge into arguing. "Yes, sorry, thank you. I really appreciate it. I'm just really worried about Ti, but she won't go to urgent care you know, cause she doesn't have insurance, and I'm just so out of it, and it's snowing-"

"Baby, I know. I'll be there soon," he said, cutting you off.

"Sorry," you said, taking in a breath to keep yourself from rambling again.

"See you soon," he said, before ending the call, your phone still stuck to your ear when he did.

When he arrived it was with more than you had requested. A huge bottle of Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Aleve and Motrin were in the bag, along with anti-nausea meds, gatorade, vitamin water, saltines, two different kinds of thermometers, and some plain applesauce. You sat in a stunned silence looking at it all, still barely awake on the couch. After letting him in you'd collapsed back on it, nearly passing out as he rubbed soft circles on the small of your back. You didn't know how much time passed; but then Maya had woken, opening the door, and the two of you shot apart quickly, like two opposing ends of a magnet.

She was eternally grateful for the care package he'd brought, and assured you that she was feeling much better, and could take care of Tina just fine. She beckoned you to leave; she too was worried you had already caught something from them, and told you to go home and rest, get some more sleep, and again thanked you for coming over. As you and San left she was brewing some coffee, and the familiar smell of your friends' apartment was back to normal, making it easier for you to leave.

As you walked the hall to the elevator you noticed his gaze; taking in the dirty carpet, and the bullet hole in the side of the mirror. Yes, you'd had to tell him, someone did shoot their gun into the side of the elevator on New Year's. He tried to keep his face neutral, but you could see the shock and worry and confusion written all over it, just in the tiny twitches of his eyebrows and crinkles by his eyes. Again, it almost made you feel sick; you'd seen the look he'd given your friend's living room when he'd first walked in, staring from wall to wall as if he couldn't believe how small it was. Their whole place was probably the size of his bedroom alone; he was rich, how rich you didn't know, but he had a giant apartment and nice clothes, friends with big houses and not a care in the world about money.

That was not you, nor your friends. You weren't broke by any means, and certainly knew many people who had it worse. But you all skated by with just slightly more than you needed, trying to save the little extra that you did have. You never knew if you were a novelty to San, because of it; maybe he'd never really known a girl like you, who didn't have all that he had, who got by with just enough and the support of her community, not a huge paycheck or rich parents to fall back on. And maybe if you were honest with yourself, he was the novelty, to you. You'd never known anyone like him, growing up in a town so small it had only one high school. Maybe you were using him for the awe of it all, the chance to see how the other half lived, see into this life everyone seemingly dreamed about. It certainly wasn't what you wanted, but you couldn't deny there were pros. It just made something in you feel so strange, that he obviously felt uncomfortable in that apartment building you'd just exited, the building you felt more at home in than almost anywhere else.

"Woah, hey," he said, as you tripped hard over a crack in the sidewalk, running into him and nearly pitching forward right onto your face. He grabbed you, helping you stand up, and stopped in his tracks, turning towards you.

"Sorry, I'm so fucking exhausted. I need sleep," you said, bags under your eyes proving your point, the gentle snow still falling around you.

"Come to mine, it's closer," he said, and your eyes blinked at him, wide and unsure. His place was technically closer, you thought, from the exact intersection you stood at. Closer by one block. Was this an excuse, a way of trying to get more time with you? You couldn't be sure, staring up at his chin, stubble peaking through.

"Really?" you asked, eyes big and pleading. When he nodded, you continued. "Will you carry me?"

"On my back I will," he said, sighing and shaking his head, almost regretting what he'd just said.

As he walked the blocks to his building the air was surprisingly cold, the two of you clinging to each other for any amount of warmth you could find. You were silent; your breaths were visible in the air, the snow fall less but the temperature more severe it seemed, today. Your head bobbed against his shoulder, arms wrapped round him tightly, and with your legs you could feel the strength of his lungs, expanding his ribcage in and out, in and out, the strength of his body never ceasing to amaze you.

"Will you put me to sleep, when we get home?" you said in his ear, and it might have sounded perfectly innocent to anyone passing by. But San knew what you meant by that, a chuckle escaping him.

"Sure, dear," he responded, and you chuckled too, high-pitched, his grip on your legs tightening. He was supposed to be mad at you, or at least, pressing you to talk to him again about what had happened. He rationalized that it wasn't the right time; you truly did need more sleep, and maybe once you woke rested this afternoon, he could start that conversation. Maybe he'd even have that other conversation with you, the one he knew should have happened a full ten months ago. But as he thought about those serious exchanges he couldn't get the image of what he was about to do to you out of his mind, and even in the frigid air he felt a tightening in his pants, hoping his arousal wasn't too fucking obvious to anyone walking by.

You didn't even notice the freudian slip you'd had, and neither really had he, for it happened so often between you two nowadays. Home. When we get home. That place was a home to you, just like Tina's and Maya's, just like your own little room. San had taken notice when it first started happening, the little mentions making his heart flutter and jump, his gaze soften as he looked at you. You'd never balked afterwards, never gave any indication that you hadn't meant to say things you said.

Home. We. I'd love to. Don't stop. I need you. I want you. Please, Sannie, please.

In his mind, it was all falling into place; he'd played the long game, dated the girl who said we're just friends, and made it a year. She loved him, she obviously did, but she wasn't one who would say something like that so easily. And he was okay with that; he could wait, this last year had proved it. You were slipping now, though; your hard exterior was melting away, the distance you kept between you two shrinking and shrinking more. The bickering had only increased with that, but what couple didn't fight? He was obsessed, he had known that just a month in with you, and there was nothing in the world that could get him to leave, even when his friends and brother mocked him for sticking with you without a label. You're being played, bro. He'd heard it a million times. But they'd never known what it was to be buried inside you, what your skin smelled like, the sounds you made when you trembled and whined. They didn't know how magical you were on that stage, how the room lit up in wonder, how every pair of eyes turned to you and couldn't turn away. They'd never heard you talk about Rocky Horror, or your favorite manga, or all of the productions you'd been in since the age of five; they'd never watched you dance, heard you sing, read the beautiful poetry you'd whip up in minutes. They didn't understand how motivated you were, how brilliant, how utterly perfect for him.

And you had little idea about any of this, too; you were just twenty-three, just a girl in a big city, just someone too passionate about art to do anything else with your time. You didn't see it for yourself, that big successful future. But you kept trying. It didn't even feel like trying; it was just what you wanted, to perform for a crowd of people for work, to spend your free time wrestling your creative energy into stories and songs you actually liked. There wasn't any space for a partner, in all that. You'd told him that. But you'd also started spending the night after your hookups, started calling him for help sometimes. You went on a weekend trip, together. Just friends. It was getting harder to defend it anymore; but the thing was, none of your other friends pressed you. It was your business, your messy, immature business. They trusted you, with just about everything, because they could. You were a good friend, always there to help, always there to listen and soothe, to distract them when they needed it. None of them worried for a second that your thing with San was spinning recklessly out of control.

You were silent the rest of the way to San's place, taking in your surroundings through hooded eyes, your body slack against his. His building had an actual lobby, and he nodded to the man behind the counter, the man who recognized you without a second glance. Couches, tan with maroon pillows, surrounded a large low table, and behind it sat a coffee bar, a large bookshelf stocked with books and games, and the door to the gym. The elevator was sleek an unstained, not a scratch in sight; certainly no bullet holes. The carpet on his floor was short, black, and perfectly maintained, soft enough you could probably comfortably sleep on it. It was such a change, just five blocks south and three blocks west, this strange city you called home a mixture of literally everything.

It didn't take long when you got home for him to undress you; it was comfortable now that he'd run the heater for a bit, and though there was still a slight chill in the air, you didn't notice it with his hands all over you. His lips found yours, kissing you sweetly, gently, waiting for your body to open up to him. A swipe of his tongue made you moan, jaw falling slack, and he moved in to kiss you deeply, still gentle in his approach. He worked down to your neck, chest, and then nipples, sucking them softly, humming at the feeling. Your moans and whines were pathetic with sleepiness, your arms barely even skating through his hair or holding onto his shoulders. Stood in the comfortable air of his room you nearly fell back, San's arms coming around your back to help you down gently, laying you flat on his navy-blue comforter.

You spread your legs for him immediately; his kisses started at your knee, coming closer and closer to your aching core, his hands wrapped around your perfect thighs. This tongue found your slit, the taste sweet and intoxicating as always, and he swiped it up slowly, carefully brushing over your sensitive button and making you jerk and moan. Your thighs came up beside his head as he started working you, licking slow half circles over your clit, your back arching off his bed. You didn't understand; this had never felt good with anyone else, but when San went down on you your whole body gave in, and you had the quietest, sweetest orgasms, ones that always sent you into a perfect slumber. He continued his careful motion; it was just the thing that felt good to you, licking slightly over the hood of your sensitive spot, the stimulation not too much, but not too little either.

It took quite a few minutes, but soon he'd worked you up enough that your thighs started shaking, opening up now to push your center into his face, relishing the friction. Now he could slide his fingers in, put two inside your soaked cunt and curl them up and back, the two points of stimulation just what you needed. You started trembling almost immediately; it wasn't much longer till he felt the walls of your pussy clenching down on him, watched your stomach clench and release in ecstasy. You didn't come hard, certainly not as hard as you did last night. But it was long, your body riding out every bit of it, his fingers and tongue working you with perfect consistency. You shook and shook in front of him, moans weak and needy, your eyes closed and body already succumbing to sleep. He slowed his movements as you did, helping you ride out the last of it, then pulling himself out and off of you when you made that sound that meant enough.

You curled up on your side immediately, San scooping you up to place you more comfortably, tugging back his blanket. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow, before he tucked the comforter up to your chin and placed a kiss on your temple. You wouldn't remember any of this when you woke in a few hours, but you'd be damn thankful for the rest, your next few hours of sleep guaranteed to be deep.

And as San stood he couldn't think for a second about those serious, responsible conversations. They left his mind completely as he walked to his bathroom, turning on his shower. They were no where to be found as he wrapped a hand around his aching length, and finally gave himself some relief, some pleasure. All he could think about was the taste of you, the feeling of your thighs crushing his head, the huge ego boost he got every time he made you come like that. You'd let it slip several months ago that no one had ever come close to doing what he'd done a hundred times; he felt like a fucking god now, each time your sweet tangy cunt was in his mouth, making him forget everything. He rubbed himself fast; he came hard, pent up and needy, frustration making his nervous system taught and sensitive. Cum coated the side of his hand and part of the wall in front of him, and he shuddered at just how intense it was; it was then that it all came crashing down, the conversations, the feelings, the way you'd talked to him last night. He finished washing his hair, his body; stepping out of the shower he felt shaky, satisfied, and totally unable to think straight.

He had to do it, he had to. Even if you'd try everything you could to reject the conversation. How could you not see how perfect he was, too?

next part ->

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #san x reader #san smut #choi san #ateez san #ateez fic #ateez fanfic

364 notes · View notes

nikamuhlsrealwife777 · 1 month ago

Text

PANCAKES FOR DINNER - N.M.

So I'm not sure how many words are in this....but there's not warnings, this is just kinda cute???Anyways....enjoyyyyyy

The car ride was tense. I hadn't planned on leaving so soon but work changed what it had wanted me to do. Nika's grip on the steering wheel bleached her knuckles, her jaw stayed tense. I couldn't help but feel guilty, I randomly sprang this info on her the last second. Our summer plans before she went back to UConn for summer training and I went back to working out my musical career were ruined.

"I'm really sorry about this...Nika, I'll make it up to you," her jaw seemed to relax, her hands loosened it's grip.

"No need to apologize, I'm just....I just wanted to spend this next month with you," I almost wanted to spill every feeling, every thought I had about this woman right now after hearing those words. But we were just friends, nothing more.

"sometimes I wish I had a normal dream, like, being a doctor or...or whatever other people want their jobs to be."

A smile spread across the girl's face, a silent celebration went off in my head. "Being the next big pop star is no easy thing. You're dreams were just stronger than others, that's why you're making it a reality."

"Becoming a professional basketball player isn't that easy either."

She snickered. "I'm far from professional, but I'll take it."

"College.... professional....same thing," I paused, "you'll definitely go pro though. You're literally amazing at what you do."

A silence stretched between us, a quiet awkwardness. "I don't know if I will."

"Nika, please, if they don't have you going to like the Aces or the Storm.... they've lost one of the best players to ever walk this Earth."

As heat rose to her cheeks, a small smirk formed on my lips, "Stop, that's the biggest lie you've ever told....and you've told a lot."

"I never lie," that was lie in itself. It's not like I've been lying to her for three years now on how I only wanna be friends.

"Puh-leahs, all you do is lie. Like, when I first met you, you thought you could fool me by saying your straight...did you think I was that stupid," I rolled my eyes, "but it is very kind of you to speak so highly of me." Her dramatic hand-to-the-heart, the batting of her eyelashes, I couldn't help but laugh a little.

The light banter almost making me forget the fact I was getting ready to get on a plane....key word, almost. My palms began to sweat, I could feel my mind start to spiral, I hated planes....and I was getting ready to get in one.

"Hey," The girl beside me slides her hand to my thigh, resting it there for some comfort. "You alright?"

"Aerophobia."

"What?"

"Fear of flying in planes," I quickly faced her, her face softened.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" Her hand intertwined with mine. The warmth of her hands fighting with the chill of mine, it brought me back from my spiral. Only a little.

I nod, "look at me." Her hands encompassing my face, her thumbs rubbed gently across my cheekbones. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. I'll even wait here with you til you have to get on, alright?"

I nodded, pulling her into a hug. A hug from her seemed to make the rest of the world cease to exist. All I needed was her, her warmth, and the comfort she provided.

But, I couldn't have just that. I had to get on some stupid plane to achieve some stupid dream.

"Alright, we're gonna go inside and just chill til you get on the plane, okay?" I nod, "I better get a call when you land in Cali."

I chuckle, "you will. No doubts about it."

We walked in, hands together, and I couldn't help but let the nerves get to me again. "I wish you could come with me."

Nika's smile seemed to brighten the world around us, "if I could, I would. Sadly, I gotta stay here in ole Croatia and hang with the family."

"I'm gonna miss you," then my thoughts spiraled. The possibility of a crash, even though it was like 1 in 100,000 that I could get in a fatal one. The thought of never seeing Nika again. I wouldn't have been able to tell her how I feel....so I did it. "Nika, I just gotta let you know I have so many feelings for you. Not just the friendly ones, like, the more than friends ones. I wish I was with you, like, I like you so much. I just feel like I make things up in my head that you might like me too, then I go down this rabbit hole of you never actually liking me, not even as a friend. Anyways, I feel like when I'm around you I can't help but feel like the entire world couldn't provide me with as much happiness and you do. I....I...God I think I love you, Nika."

Her eyes widened, surprise mixed with whatever feelings she had towards me, it was written all over her face. I should've just jumped on the plane and hoped it crashed cause I felt more embarrassed now than ever before. At least I'd be at peace with being on the plane if it meant never knowing what Nika really wanted to say.

"How long have you thought that?"

Not the questions, "for...for about three years."

She nodded, stepping closer to me, "You really think I would ever not like you?

""Platonic or romantic?"

"Either."

"Both....I just thought I liked you so much I was making things up in m-"

She cut me off. Her lips crashed to mine. The way her hands pulled me impossibly closer by the waist. My hands shot to her hair, wanting to bring her even closer to me. I had always wanted this.

"God, I've wanted to do that for years," her whispered words left me shocked. I pulled back a bit.

"What?"

"Y/N, you have no clue how bad I've been wanting to do that. Ever since I've gotten to know you...it's like you draw me even closer...wanting more....needing more. I just thought maybe I was reading into things. You're confident and charming, why wouldn't I think you were like that with everyone. But to know you feel the same way....I wish I would've made the move a long time ago."

I couldn't help but smile. Her words causing a heat to rise through my neck, settling on my cheeks. "You're joking."

"Nope," popping the 'p', "I couldn't have been more serious in my life."

My flight was being called, and I couldn't help but notice the nerves had been settled...or I was just currently distracted by the fact Nika had feelings for me.

"So....I gotta go," before I could keep going, Nika planted another soft kiss on my lips, "but maybe I should tell my manager nevermind."

Her laughed filled the space, "Nope, gotta become the biggest pop star in the world. I need you to surpass Taylor Swift one day."

"Whatever," I turned to leave, but took one more glance back at the brunette, "I'll call you when I get off, promise."

A/N: I got one done after months of not being on here!!! Hopefully this is good...enough cause I don't know how I feel about it. @ittiwdwysylm here ya go, Nika fic out!!

#wbb #nika muhl #wnba basketball #wcbb #wnba #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #womens basketball #nika muhl x reader #wnba players #seattle storm

183 notes · View notes

siri-ike · 2 months ago

Text

Danny's Phanclub

From this prompt

(This is connected to Summer of change, Jazz Al-Ghul, Mad Science Private School, empty, and a little crime as a treat)

On december 9th, 7 people who were not busy that afternoon gathered in a dimly lit garage on the request of one person.

Angie (15) head of the Danny Phan club's theories division: You're probably all wondering why I asked you here today.

Su-Jin (19) in charge of keeping the websites updated: Yeah, the urgent message with no explanation was kinda jarring.

Jónatan (16) event organizer: couldn't have given a little heads up?

Carmelo (14) treasurer: And I don't believe we needed this many snacks.

Rowan (17) President of the Phanclub: Let's hear her out.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed above them.

Harriet (17) made matching t-shirts: Got the power back on. What are we talking about?

Angie: I'm sure you've all heard that Danny Phantom somehow managed to freeze that giant plant ghost last summer?

S,J,C,R,H,D:*murmurs of agreement*

A: And everyone knows ghost poweres are based on how one dies. As was proven last year with that ghost who was perpetually soaking wet and kept spiting up water

She turns dramatically away from the pool conference table.

A: Before now, he could just do the same things as all other ghosts. Invisibility, intangibility, flying. Plus, those blasts, which are probably just concentrated ectoplasm.

She drags in a large corkboard and looks at the others when she flops it around. Revealing newspaper clippings of Danny using each of his powers, a grave yard, some mountains, and... ski resort pamphlets?

A: Now. Let's look at the evidence.

1. The snow. That came out of nowhere, right? - Wrong. Before the Christian version of Hell, there was the Norse Hel. It was where everyone whet when they died, provided they didn't die in battle. It was thought to be a vast wasteland covered in ice where you could spend eternity with those who were with you when you died.

2. His appearance. He wears a onesie. There are a few reasons one might wear a onesie. The main reason being, you don't want something getting into your clothes. For example, bees. But he has nothing to do with bees. It would have to be something else, something he is connected to... like snow. Like his hair. *pause for effect* it's snow white. The chances of someone being born with white hair is less than 0.001% or one in 17 to 20 thousand. It can also be caused by a deficiency in vitamin B12 or pituitary or thyroid issues. You can all refer to the group chat for articles on those.

*Angie knows no one ever reads her sorces, but damn it, she did her research, and she's gonna site it.*

Jónatan: When did you have time for this? School only finished yesterday.

A: What I think is more likely is that his haircolor changed post-mortem. But why white?

*pause*

A: I think he froze to death.

The room went silent. It had crossed each of their minds, but no one had wanted to say it. Enter Angie 'can't read the room to save her life' Sage.

A: Considering the multiple ski resorts in Illinois supporting the theory and how much more aggressive he is in December, probably due to the anniversary of his death. It could also explain why no other ghosts show up in December. Either they're too scared of him or they're giving him space. He has seemed to be somewhat chumy with some of the other ghosts, despite their combative relationship-

Rowan: Angie, stop.

Quiet.

She looks around the room. Four people are looking down, seemingly avoiding eye contact, and two look at her. Rowan, looks right at her with stern yet sympathetic eyes.

R: Everyone take five. We'll pick it up from here. Angie, a word.

Oh great, she must've offended someone. If only she could remember to look at the faces. Shurely, there must be some signs she could look out for.

R: I know you like theories, Angie. But can you tone it down? You're talking about someone's death. That's not the sort of thing most people are comfortable with.

They're one of the most patient people she's ever met, but sometimes even Rowan doesn't quite make sense.

A: But... he's a ghost. We all know he died.

R: We do. But, I think this whole conversation could be easier if you remove the "post mortem" and the "to death" parts of your presentation.

A: I guess I could change the wording a bit. Leave out the more gruesome parts. But I need someone to hear those out, a second set of ears to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Rowan looks to the corner of the room, where a 12 year old girl sits on a barstool with a wide-eyed grin ear to ear. She nods as though knowing exactly what they want.

R: Dani can hear you out on those.

Dani (12 (real age 1)) a gremlin, somehow always has time for this: I look forward to working with you.

~~~~~~~~

Angie's articles

Premature gray/white hair

One in 17-20,000

BTW I'm not gonna continue this.

Guess I'm continuing this.

Pt 2

Masterpost

#danny phantom #Danny's Phanclub #dani phantom #fanfic #phandom #writing prompt #writing #dp x dc au #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp

89 notes · View notes

cheeseceli · 1 year ago

Text

Sick

Pairing: Hyunjin × Gn!Reader (established relationship)

Genre: fluff, short drabble, kinda domestic

Warnings: one death related joke; I have no idea how medicines work; reader is mentioned to have had period cramps; no pronouns used for reader

A/n: I truly am horrible at giving titles to things

"I think I'm dying"

You only laughed at your boyfriend, used to his dramatic antics at this point. "Have some tea then" you offered him the cup you were holding while sitting down next to where he was lying down "I'm sure this will keep you alive".

He sat up and accepted the cup of tea, murmuring a small 'thank you'. Now, he clearly wasn't dying, but it's true that he was in pain. It wasn't something serious and he'd soon be alright, but still you hated to see him that weak and not know what could possibly be done to help. So you resorted to giving him comfort: playing with his hair and seeing how his eyes would close for a few moments before opening again and sipping the tea once more.

"Couldn't I have some remedy?"

"I can't give you any medicine until you know why you're like that. Giving you the wrong one could aggravate the problem."

"I still think you're the one who made me sick" he drank what lasted from the tea and smiled a bit, not believing in a single word that dropped from his mouth "You were in pain and the moment you get better I get worse."

"You can't transfer stomachache to someone, y'know."

"I'd disagree with that after today."

"And what I had was period cramps. I doubted that's what you're feeling, is it?"

He just shook his head and sighed, like you wouldn't be able to understand. But actually, he just didn't know what to say. So he laid his lap on your lap like it was enough to put an end to the conversation. And it was.

"You should shower now" you broke the silence after a few seconds "If you wait until it gets darker it's gonna be colder as well. That could make the pain worse."

"Yeah, I should probably go now" he said in a whisper, and somehow you knew that saying that sentence took all his lasting energy. Still, he didn't get up and you doubted he would when he closed his eyes. And you didn't make any effort to help him to go shower when you started to play with his hair once more "I should get sick more often."

You laughed "you're unbelievable."

He smiled and opened his eyes to look at you and, even though you could see how weak he was, there was light still. His eyes shone whenever he looked at you, and that was something not even the pain could take away.

"Stop looking at me like that" you complained, not really minding it.

"Like what?"

"Like you're having fun with it."

"That's not how it is."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm looking at you like I love you."

You smiled as your cheeks got hotter, even when you looked away: "You're feeling better already I guess?"

"No, I'm not" he held your hand and kept it still in his hair, like that would stop you from leaving. Like you had any intention of doing so "See, I'm shaking. That can only mean I'm still weak. Stay with me."

Despite his playful behaviour, you could feel how much he meant the last part. And you meant every bit of you when you said that you'd stay there for as much as he let you. That'd be forever.

"You're lucky I love you."

He closed his eyes and smiled, dropping the next words in a whisper "I know."

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#celi drabbles #skz fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #skz #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fic #hyunjin scenario #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin

352 notes · View notes

whoops-all-jennas · 2 months ago

Text

Past Lives pt. 7

Wednesday x witch!reader

"I've got this strangest feeling."

"This isn't our first time around."

Summary: You and Wednesday investigate Xavier before attending the Rave'n

I wake up to the sound of papers rustling and Wednesday thinking out loud to herself. The morning sun beaming through the windows making me never want to open my eyes.

I dramatically sit up, my white hair going every which way. I feel I have more energy than usual, maybe I needed that release of energy.

My feet find their way into the slippers by my bed, I'm wearing pajama shorts and an oversized band tee. The shirt has clearly seen better days as the graphic is faded.

I walk to the center of the room to find Wednesday in front of a bulletin board, crossing her arms in thought. The bulletin board is covered in pictures of wounds and bodies. I assume these are all the victims of the murders, Wednesday did say she snuck out last night to the morgue.

I turn around to find Enid sleeping still, so I keep in mind of my volume. "Good morning Wends, did you sleep or?"

Wednesday turns around to meet me, her eyes going to my white messy hair. "I can see you did." She responded in a whisper, unsure if it's because Enid is sleeping is because she's just naturally mimicking my volume.

Her eyes linger on my hair a moment longer before turning back around.

"Are you the one who set the statue on fire?" I ask in a whisper.

Wednesday moves a picture before pushing a thumbtack through it. "I thought you did. When I looked at you it was as if you were concentrating on the fire."

I at least know it wasn't Wednesday. "I think I did?"

Wednesday turns around again. "You think?"

"I kinda zoned out, but it felt like all the emotions of yesterday just kinda like, alleviated in that moment."

I find Wednesday's new soft gaze meeting mine. Ever since that vision yesterday she's been looking at me differently. A good different.

"Why did you play a song while the fire was going on?"

Wednesday stares off to the side before meeting my gaze again. "I wasn't sure what was happening and if you were involved or not. Besides, I can handle people being suspicious of me."

Wednesday turned back around, bringing her attention back to the bulletin board.

Was she trying to be a distraction for me?

"I'm gonna get ready, we can talk about whatever you uncovered from the morgue when I'm done." She stopped moving while I was talking before going back to what she was doing.

That's about as much of an acknowledgement I'm going to get from Wednesday with a statement like that. I head back to my section of the room to get ready.

"While most plants reward their pollinators with sweet nectar, many carnivorous varieties turn to sexual trickery or deception." Ms. Thornhill is holding up a dangerous looking plant casually while addressing the class.

I glance at Wednesday, noticing Xavier staring at me before we both look away from each other.

Ms. Thornhill keeps teaching the class, but none of it retains in my memory over Xavier and I's occasionally glances at each other from across the sunlit room.

"Now, once the plant is pollinated, what do the male insects get in exchange?" Ms. Thornhill looks to me, about to call on me to answer after noticing my lack of attention.

"Nada. Just like all the guys at the Rave'n." Bianca answers before Ms. Thornhill embarrasses me. Some light chuckles fill the classroom.

"Okay, okay. I know you're all excited about Saturday, which is why I haven't assigned any homework." Ms. Thornhill states, causing a majority of the class to cheer quietly.

"But I do still need volunteers for the decorating committee. Anyone interested, come and see me up here." Some students stand to approach the teacher's desk, while Wednesday and I stay in place.

"What? you don't want to volunteer?" I say jokingly.

"I hope that isn't your best attempt at a joke." Wednesday glares at me for a moment, causing me to look away to see Xavier's glance on me.

"I feel bad, about what I said yesterday to Xavier." I say with a worried look on my face. "Maybe I overreacted."

Wednesday turns to see Xavier bending over to put something in his bag that's on the floor, revealing the fresh wounds on his neck.

"Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone." Wednesday states, turning back to me. "We can follow him until I notice something that can potentially give us a lead."

"Do you suspect Xavier?" I ask in a worried whisper.

"Only by proximity, nothing certain. Yet." Wednesday turns to look at Xavier again. "But, a suspect is still a suspect."

Wednesday and I find ourselves near a shed by the school. Xavier leaves the shed shortly after we arrive. We're hiding behind a bush so he can't see us.

"Cast the spell." Wednesday demands. I take out my wand, casting the disillusionment charm on her so she can sneak into the shed with ease.

"We'll meet back here afterwards so I can remove the charm." I don't hear a response, but I assume she nodded.

I stand, doing a light run to catch up to him. "Xavier!"

He turns around to meet me. "Hey y/n, what's up." He's clearly acting like nothing is wrong.

"I just wanted to apologize about how I acted yesterday, I shouldn't have blown up on you like that."

He avoids my gaze for a moment. "I should apologize too, I shouldn't have been so inconsiderate."

"No, no. You don't need to apologize, I should've controlled my emotions better." I say quickly after he's done speaking.

"Can you just let me have this?" He says with a smile.

I smile back. "So we're cool?"

"Yeah." He puts out his fist, waiting for our knuckles to meet.

I lightly tap my knuckles against his. "We should hangout soon. Maybe play Mario Maker levels made by sadistic assholes." I say jokingly.

He responds with a light chuckle, tearing his eyes away from me to look at the ground.

The creek of the shed door opening draws both of our attention away from the conversation.

"Is there someone in there?" He says, mostly to the wind.

We both approach the shed, opening the door more letting the daylight fill the room.

"Must be something wrong with the door." I say out loud before closing it.

I turn to meet Xavier. "I was being serious about doing something soon, I miss spending time with you."

"Maybe we can hangout at the dance on Saturday, purely platonically I mean of course." His face goes slightly red.

"I wasn't going to go, but if you want to hangout there I can." I state uncertainly before pointing behind me with my thumb. "I'm gonna leave, Wednesday is probably waiting for me so she can drag me to a crime scene or something."

"Alright, see you at the dance then." Xavier waves before walking off.

I find my way back behind the bush, accidentally bumping into Wednesday. "Shit, sorry."

I pull out my wand and holding my hand out expectingly. She finds her hand in mine. I tap the wand onto her hand as she becomes visible again.

"Did you find anything?"

"Yes, but let's get back to our dorm first." She states, quickly turning around before she starts walking.

The dorm is filled with sunlight from the sunroof, I find myself sitting in Wednesday's reading chair next to her bulletin board with her standing over me.

I hold Xavier's drawing in my hand with Wednesday's expecting glance over me. "What do you think?"

"I think if anything this makes him more innocent." I state flatly. "He's a psychic like his father, but he told me about how he gets visions in dreams usually in the form of nightmares."

I look up to Wednesday from the drawing. "I also doubt the monster knows this much physical detail about himself."

Wednesday looks at me a bit disappointed by my conclusion.

"But, if this is the case. He could be extremely helpful to our case."

Wednesday's look turns from disappointment to curiosity. "How so."

"He's getting visions about the monster we're hunting. He could likely give us some leads."

Our conversation is cut short as Enid bursts into the room, skipping across the room towards us.

"Good, you both are here." She stops in front of us with a smile. "Are you two going to the Rave'n? I'm about to go out with some friends to find clothes, if you guys are interested you can tag along."

I stand up. "Yeah I'll come with."

Wednesday gives me a confused look. "You're going to the dance?"

"Yeah, I told Xavier that we could spend time together at the dance. Purely platonically of course." I pause for a moment before I continue. "You should come to the dance to, it could be fun."

"Ooo, inviting Wednesday to the dance?" Enid draws out of the o's accusingly.

My face flushes red in embarrassment. "I didn't mean it like that!" I say somehow in the least convincing way possible.

Enid gives me a smug look before glancing past me. Wednesday in now in her section of the room grabbing a few things. "Yeah, yeah. I'm getting tired of waiting! You two just need to-"

I find myself lunging towards Enid, covering her mouth with my hand to force her to stop talking.

"Enid, please stop!" I drag out the e in the word please.

She lightly kicks behind my knee playfully, causing me to fall on top of her.

"Enid!" I shout before scrambling to my feet. Enid has the dumbest smile on her face when I look over her. She's still on the floor.

"Are we leaving or not." Wednesday's monotone voice reaches my ears, causing me to turn around to see her ready to go out.

"Wait, you're actually coming!?" I take a step closer, excitement painting my face and lacing my voice.

"If you two stop bickering." She states flatly

I turn to see Enid's smug face as she's back on her feet now.

I walk past Enid while I head to the door. "Not a word about this."

She nods with the same expression before leaving the room with us.

"What kind of dystopian hell scape is this?" I state with a look of disgust.

Y/n, Enid, and I are standing in front of Hawte Kewture, the clothing store is decorated with blue and pink pastels. So, quite literally, my worst nightmare.

Enid turns to you with excitement. "Our first roomie shopping spree with Wednesday! The dance committee's suggesting all white to match the theme, but that's not gonna fly with Wednesday."

I turn towards them. "I have some more pressing matters to deal with."

Enid's excitement turns into disappointment. "But I thought we were bonding."

"I will meet up with you two later, or you'll meet up with me. Whatever comes first."

Y/n and Enid glance at each other for a moment. "If you say so." You say with slight disappointment in your voice.

You and Enid turn around to enter the store, I take the chance to leave before you manage to persuade me to enter that dungeon of a store.

When I'm walking down the street Thing taps my shoulder as we pass Uriah's Heap. "I'm going to see Galpin, I'm not stop-" I turn to look into the window to see a gothic black dress.

"Hi, Wednesday." The sound of a bell fills the air as my therapist leaves the store. "That dress will certainly turn some heads."

"Are you collecting more exotic trinkets for your office?" I state, drawing the attention away from the dress.

"Those are souvenirs from my travels. That's how I step outside of my comfort zone. Speaking of which, are you going to the Rave'n this weekend?"

"I'm not required to answer your questions out in the wild, am I?" I try to end the conversation.

"I look forward to talking about it at our next session." She turns to leave the other way. I turn to the entrance of the store, taking my time to enter.

I left with the dress in a bag, I wasn't expecting you to manage to persuade me to buy a dress.

I put Xavier's drawing on the sheriff's desk. "We both know there's a monster out there. If we're going to stop it, I think it's time we put our differences aside and work together."

"And this is your stake for me to deal you in?" The sheriff is now holding the drawing, inspecting it before grabbing a photograph and putting them side by side.

"Sorry you gotta do better than that. You've got some nice detail though." He hands me the drawing back.

"I didn't draw it." I fold the drawing before putting it back into my backpack.

"I need to know who did." He states firmly

"Unless we're exchanging intel, I'm not at liberty to say."

He sighs while looking off to the side. "Why would I share information about an ongoing murder investigation with a high school kid?"

"Because I go to Nevermore and you don't. Don't you want some eyes and ears behind those ivy-covered walls?"

"Listen Velma, why don't you and the Scooby gang stick to your homework and leave the investigating to the professionals." The phone starts ringing, causing the sheriff to answer. "What?"

The voice on the other end is slightly distorted by the age of the technology. "Mayor Walker's on line two, he's looking for an update."

I take cue to leave. "Hey, Addams."

The sheriff beckons me over. "Let me see that sketch again."

I walk back in, handing him the drawing.

"The person who drew this, that your suspect?"

I shake my head. "I believe he's having visions about it."

The sheriff is silent for a moment. "When you bring me some concrete evidence, maybe we'll talk."

I take the sketch back, before leaving the police station.

I'm sitting inside the Weathervane with Enid and her friends. I see Wednesday walk past though the window. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna check on Wednesday real quick."

Everyone at the table quietly acknowledges my statement before I leave the store.

The bell of the door fills the air. "Wednesday!" She turns around as I catch up.

"I see you found something." I look towards her bag.

We both continue walking, rounding a corner to be met with Tyler on the other side.

"Don't wanna ask what trouble you two are in now." Tyler looks past us for a second, looking at the sheriff's office behind us.

"Nothing we can't handle. Your father's in particularly frustrating form today. Avoid." Wednesday says as Tyler draws his vision back to us.

"Yeah, welcome to my world." Tyler murmurs before changing the conversation. "You guys have the Rave'n this weekend, right? It was all the buzz at the Weathervane today."

"Yeah, the Rave'ns this weekend." I answer, curious on where he's going.

"Are you going with anyone Wednesday?" Tyler asks, a bit of nervousness to his voice.

I find Wednesday glancing at me for a moment. "I'm going with Y/n."

I look at Wednesday trying to conceal my shock.

He avoids eye contact for a moment "Hope you two have fun." Disappointment laces his voice as he walks past us

Wednesday turns around to face him. "I'm not sure why you're upset."

"That's kind of the problem." Tyler turns around to meet us again. "I mean, call me crazy, Wednesday, but you keep giving me these signals.

"You're crazy." I interject myself into the conversation to be met with a scowl from Tyler.

His eyes soften again before meeting Wednesday's. "I thought we liked each other, but then you pull something like this, and I have no idea where I stand. I mean, am I in the more than friend zone or just a pawn in some game you're playing."

There's a lull in the conversation before Wednesday continues. "I like girls, Tyler."

My ears perk up at this wonderful news.

"I mean, yeah clearly. You're going with her." Tyler gestures his hand towards me. "Sorry, that was mean."

There was another lull in the conversation filled with awkward silence.

He points behind himself. "I guess I'll see you guys around." He turns around to walk away.

I walk into my shared dorm room to get ready for the Rave'n early. The room is dark as the sun has set. I'm the only soul in here. I assume Wednesday is still moving the evidence board to the bee shed.

Enid wasn't the biggest fan of having a board covered in pictures of corpse parts in the dorm.

I approach my desk to be greeted with a letter with the initials 'W.A.'

I pick it up, carefully opening the envelope as to not tear anything.

Dear Y/n Y/l/n,

I'm having trouble trying to find the words, this is all new to me. I believe I may have some sort of 'feelings' for you. Every time we come in to contact, I have this nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach. My heart races, unable to be calm in the presence of your touch. Yet, I'm insatiable for more.

I believe you may reciprocate these feelings, so why must we pretend otherwise? I want to attend this dance together more than merely friends.

However, if you don't reciprocate these feelings, I demand you burn this letter and forget this happened.

Wednesday Addams

The happiest smile slips onto my face as I jump in place. I put the letter in the top drawer of my desk before the door to the dorm opens.

Wednesday walks through the doorway, gazing towards me. She seems nervous.

"Wednesday!" I practically run to close the distance, my smile somehow getting bigger now that she's in my presence.

"I assume you found the letter." She states with a hint of worry.

I quickly nod. "Yes, and my answer is yes!"

Wednesday releases an exhale of relief. I see the weight release off her chest through her perfect posture.

"Can I uhm." I am now much quieter, my face quickly flushing red. "Can we hug?"

After Wednesday is silent for a moment and avoiding eye contact, I worry I may have overstepped.

"It's okay if you-"

"Yes." I find Wednesday's eyes have finally met mine again. "Please."

My smile returns before I wrap my arms around her into a warm embrace. Wednesday stands there for a moment with her arms by her side, unsure what to do.

Eventually, Wednesday reciprocates the hug. Wrapping her arms around my waist. Her touch is cool yet comforting.

We both untangle ourselves from the embrace, the warmth of each other's touch lingering on our skin.

"I'm going to get ready." I tell Wednesday, before heading to my closet.

I find myself waiting outside at the bottom of the stairs outside the dorm room. I didn't take as long as Wednesday to get ready.

I turn to the sound of Wednesday's heels tapping against the stairs. She's wearing this beautiful black gothic dress.

I can't help but gawk at the beauty descending the stairs. She looks ethereal.

"Wow, Wednesday. You look... " I'm silent for a moment, trying to find the right words and the confidence to speak them.

"Unrecognizable? Ridiculous?"

I find myself stumped for another moment. "Beautiful, I mean it Wednesday you have me at a loss for words."

Her gaze softens at my sentiment. Her eyes scan my body, silently admiring my appearance.

She breaks eye contact for a moment. "We can hold hands, if that's something you want to do."

I think it's so cute that's she trying to play it off as if she doing it for me.

"Yeah, I'd like that." I hold my hand out, waiting for hers to meet mine before our fingers interlock. I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through me from her contact, bringing to life the butterflies in my stomach.

"Shall we go?" I can tell by the slight shakiness to her voice I'm having the same effect on her.

I nod, my smile impossible to hide, as we make our way to the dance.

Wednesday and I walk through the entrance, our fingers interlocked. The sound of pop music fills the room as I feel everyone's eyes on us before Ms. Thornhill approaches. "Wednesday, Y/n. What a lovely surprise.

Thornhill's eyes stare at our hands. "I didn't know you two were a couple." She says with a smile

Wednesday and I glance at each other. "It's kind of a new thing." I say awkwardly.

"We're going to get drinks." Wednesday states, mostly to me.

"Have fun you two!" Ms Thornhill says with a smile as we walk away.

We approach the long table together. I squeeze Wednesday's hand so I don't get use to her touch.

"OMG I love the look!" Enid approaches, excitement filling her very being. We both turn towards her and she notices our hands.

Enid's eyes go wide. "Wait are you two officially a thing now?!"

I feel the temperature of my face drastically rise, Wednesday turns her face to see mine.

"I uh-" I start to say before Wednesday interrupts me.

"Interesting choice of date." Wednesday states flatly, looking past Enid to see Lucas.

I follow Wednesday's eyes, finding Lucas standing awkwardly.

"Wait, your date is Lucas Walker? You know he's the worst right?" I say, a hint of malice in my voice.

"It's not what it looks like." Enid says defensively.

"Good, because that pilgrim already has two strikes in my book." Wednesday is practically staring daggers at Lucas.

"Lucas is trying to make his ex jealous, and I'm trying to make Ajax jealous. It's a win-win."

"Why can't you just talk to Ajax instead of doing this? Communication is important." I say, ending my sentence quickly as I see Lucas approaching.

He puts his hands up like we're arresting him. "Wednesday, Y/n, I come in peace."

"That's a shame, I brought my pocket mace." Wednesday says, causing Lucas to lower his arm with a bit of fear etched onto his face. "The medieval kind."

Wednesday turns to grab herself and I a drink as Enid and Lucas walk away. "Just to let you know in advance, tomorrow night we're going to stake out a cave with Eugene. Eugene saw something in one of Xavier's drawing."

Wednesday hands me the drink. "I haven't been too good at keeping you up to date on our plans. I apologize."

I grab the drink. "It's cool, thanks for the heads up." I motion to dink Wednesday's and I's drinks together before each of us takes a sip.

We both turn as we see Xavier approach us at of our peripheral vision. "Hey Xavier! Did you ever find someone to come with?"

He looks around awkwardly for a moment. "Yeah uh, I came with Bianca."

The smile fades from my face. "What, why would you do that?"

Xavier shrugs. "Better than going alone I guess."

There is a lull in the conversation until 'The Goo Goo Muck' by 'The Cramps' started playing.

Wednesday drags me towards the crowd dancing. "Dance with me."

"Wednesday, I don't know I'm not much of a dancer." There's a hint of anxiety on my face as we get closer to the crowd.

"Why'd you agree to come to the dance with me if we weren't going to dance." She's dragging me in-between people now, persistent on the idea.

"I uh-" I find myself still as Wednesday let's go of my hand.

I find her eyes staring into mine intensely as she starts to get into the music, shaking her shoulders back and forth to the rhythm. I stand there awkwardly, watching her.

Her movements are rigid, but rhythmic. I find myself entranced.

I leave the trance after a few moments, remembering where I am. I look around to find people staring, and I can't tell if it's the good or bad kind.

My heartbeat accelerates at the sudden attention. I find myself unable to move. Do people think I'm weird? Why won't I dance?

I force my legs to move, shaking from the anxiety as I walk through the crowd of people dancing.

"Y/n?" I faintly hear Wednesday's voice as I make more distance.

I find an almost empty area just outside the party. I sigh as I sit down.

"Y/n?" I hear Wednesday's voice again as she sits down next to me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just. I get overwhelmed by crowds easily." I say, an awkward silence fills the air besides the muted sound of the music from the party.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have forced you." Wednesday states, a hint of empathy in her voice.

I find myself staring at the floor. "I want you to have fun as well though."

I find myself having difficulty choosing between looking at Wednesday and avoiding all eye contact, flickering between both.

"How about we take it slower." Wednesday scots closer, my eyes manage to remain on Wednesday's empathetic ones. "When a slow song plays, we'll dance together. I'll lead and guide you as we move along to the music."

I find myself nodding with a smile. "Okay, thank you Wends." A little bit of the anxiety fading.

Bianca walks in, taking a seat near us. I hold back any negative comments as it could effect Xavier's night as well. I notice her eyes are slightly glossy.

"I know this isn't usually something I'd ask you, but are you okay?" I ask, slight concern in my voice

Bianca looks at me before shrugging, looking away again the next moment.

Wednesday and I exchange a glance. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

After another moment of silence, Wednesday interjects. "Where's Xavier?"

"We had a little tiff." Bianca says, giving in. "About you two actually."

Wednesday and I share a concerned glance. "What about us?" We say simultaneously.

"He wasn't expecting to see you two together. He was happy for you at first, but there was jealousy building up or something. After he saw you two dancing, or more so saw Wednesday dancing and you standing there, he asked me to use my siren song on him to have him forget his feelings."

I look away for a second, ignoring her comment before speaking. "He did that?"

Bianca nods with her eyes slightly more glossy. I can imagine how used she must feel.

Our conversation is cut short when a scream finds it way to our room. Wednesday and I instantly stand, looking towards the noise which is followed by multiple screams.

Wednesday grabs my hand as we run side by side back to the dance, where the screams originated. Some people covered in what looks like blood run past us.

After we squeeze through the crowd, we find the sprinklers are spraying the supposed blood all over the party.

Wednesday smiles at the scene before sticking out her hand under the continuous splatter, putting her finger to her mouth to taste whatever it is.

My face contorts a bit in disgust.

Wednesday's amused smile quickly fades. "They couldn't even spring for real pigs' blood." Her shoulders drop in disappointment. "It's only paint."

People continuously run past us in fear, unable to tell who's bumping into who. Suddenly, Wednesday's head falls back, entering a vision.

I hold Wednesday to avoid her falling and for us to not be trampled. As the crowd loses volume, Wednesday comes back. "Eugene is in the woods."

She meets my eyes with concern. "He's in danger."

Wednesday grabs my hand before running with the crowd. Letting go of my hand whenever we escape the crowd, we soon find ourselves leaving the school into the woods.

The hectic sound of our panic-filled footsteps fill the forest with the crunching of leaves. The moonlight casting a pale glow over the forest.

I wave my wand out, emitting a blue light to guide the way.

"Eugene!" Wednesday and I take turns shouting. My heart beating at a thousand miles an hour, my legs burning at the sudden activity.

We both stop for a moment, looking around. "Eugene?!" I shout.

"Y/n! over here!" We hear Eugene yell.

Wednesday and I turn towards his voice, running towards it as fast as possible

We find Eugene laying in the fallen leaves. "Eugene." Wednesday states, standing in place.

I quickly approach Eugene, kneeling beside him. He has three fresh claw wounds across his chest, the blood pouring out of them. I close my eyes, recalling a spell I've been practicing the past few months.

I put my wand to the end of one of the claw marks running across his torso, blood trickling out staining his clothes.

"Oh my God! Is he alive?!" Ms Thornhill approaches from behind.

I close my eyes in frustration and panic. "Everyone please shut up!" I shout, overwhelmed. "I need to concentrate."

Everyone goes silent, staring at my back. I put my wand back to the top of the wound, running it down smoothly till it reaches the bottom.

"Vulnera, Sanentur." My voice utters the incantations slowly and rhythmically in a hushed lullaby.

I repeat the incantation, following the same motion. This time, the blood starts to clear away into nothing. Cleaning the wound.

I pause for a moment, before doing the incantation one more time. The wound knitting itself shut.

I take a deep inhale. "Two more to go." I utter to myself, feeling the four eyes behind me staring into me like daggers.

I find the end of the second cut, my wand trembling. I take another deep breath to collect myself.

"Vulnera Sanentur." It feels as if my voice is the only sound in the world.

Whenever I finish with that cut, I feel my eyes getting glossy. The stress overflowing my body. I can't break down just yet. I find the last cut, casting the healing spell one last time.

I stare at his unconscious body, at his healed but new found scars. Tears start to stream down my face, the stress escaping my body.

I put my hands over eyes, my shoulders slumped forward. The sound of my sobs echo amongst the trees. The sense of relief strengthening my overwhelmed tears.

Part 8.

Past Lives Masterlist

#wednesday x y/n #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you

73 notes · View notes

julymusings · 3 months ago

Note

Can we also get a desi reader for Tim, Bruce, and aged up damian, please?

Bruce Wayne x South Asian!Reader

ok i did say whatever you ask is yours...but tbh i'm not much of an anyone-other-than-jason-or-dick girlie (i knowww i'm sorry). maybe in the future i'll write for the others but for now here's some bruce content. hope it's okay pleeease don't hate me. also sorry this took literally 50 years i was going thru some stuff💀

batboys x south asian!reader masterlist

I think he’d try really hard to impress you by taking you to those super fancy Michelin star Indian fusion restaurants. They’re good but don’t have quite the same charm as home cooked Indian food, so you bring him back to your place and cook for him.

I’m gonna be real here…all that man really needs is a kiss and one of grandma’s recipes. You feed him a bite straight from the pot and the softness and intimacy of the action alone almost has him in tears, never mind the love and warmth of a home cooked meal

You two come back to your place late one night after an event and you’re craving some comfort food, so you heat up some leftover rice with ghee and jaggery, and he doesn’t seem to have much of a reaction when he tries it, but when you guys have a fight that results in you not seeing each other for a few days, when you finally return to the manor Alfred informs you that was the only thing he ate because it reminds him of you and he missed you😭

I imagine not being very used to how much money he has, so some of the wealthy stuff he does is kinda weird to you. Seriously, this man has been a billionaire his entire life, so you can’t tell me that at least a morsel of Brucie Wayne’s financial out-of-touchness isn’t a tiny bit real

You tell him that in your culture, it’s common to gift gold at really special milestones/occasions. But he gets carried away.

He buys you a bunch of gold jewelry, like for every occasion and it’s like…real, solid, 22k gold. You try to tell him that it’s too much and you don’t need anymore and please stop buying it but he’s just like “why🤨🤨? That gold necklace was only a thousand dollars that’s so cheap” and you make him stand in the corner

I think he’d feel so weird about not wearing shoes at your place but you make him get used to it🤷‍♀️

He’s a genius fr so he picks up your language very easily

You love the super extra Uber-dramatic soap operas and it’s a guilty pleasure of yours to watch them before bed. I can just imagine the two of you huddled together in bed watching them on your laptop. He makes sure all the TVs in the house have all the channels you like. Eventually he can’t sleep without watching them either😭

I think he’d love certain perfume scents that are from South Asia, and he’d buy you fancy those perfume oils

I’m sorry but…I can NOT see this man wearing a kurta. Like I just don’t think he’d do it.

Lighting incense in the batcave. That’s all

incorporating this ask bc it's relevant:

One day you’re making chai, and you ask him to bring the pot from the stove to the counter for you. That thing^ is lying next to the stove, but he doesn't know what that is. And since he can withstand intense levels of pain without flinching he just. Picks up the boiling pot with his bare hands and brings it to you.

"Why didn't you use the clamp?!" "How was I supposed to know what that thing was!!" You show him how to use it but he's kinda petty ("Why can't you just use a normal pot with a normal handle?! Why are you making more work for yourself?") so he refuses to use it and just keeps handling the pot with his bare hands.

But one day you're deep in conversation while making chai. The pot is boiling and he handles it anyway, but you're distracted and you forget that he can do that. You assume it's not hot so you touch it and burn yourself and he feels sooo bad. He's kissing all over your hands and pampering you for the whole day. He finally gives in and just starts using the stupid clamp.

I hc Bruce as being a consistent meditator. He probably spent a lot of time learning about it while training across the world and it helps him feel grounded and calm. He tries to get his kids to do it too, but they don't all like it as much as him. So if you meditate with him every now and then he really appreciates that.

You try to get him into yoga along with it and he's like...scarily good at it. He's not super flexible like Dick, so he chooses to opt out of the super bendy poses, but his core strength is unmatched. He can balance his entire bodyweight on one limb no sweat. He's not wobbling, shaking, or tipping over. He's still as a statue and he can last for hours. (😏)

If you get married, I don’t think it would be a huge event. Like there would probably be some kind of reception that’s more of a formality/business event than anything else where he puts on Brucie Wayne, but for the actual ceremony I think it would just be the family

He'd fly you to your home country to have the ceremony there at some super fancy historical attraction. Even if it's just you and some other close people, he's getting the whole place shut down for the day just for you.

I can’t imagine needing to step into a stepmom role for anyone? Except maybe Cass, Duke, and Damian when his mom isn’t around. The four of you DEFINITELY gang up on Bruce all the time and make fun of his whiteness.

You’d also totally gift them traditional wear

The first time you make dinner for everyone, you make it spicy and everyone loves it, but Bruce is just sitting there SWEATING

He’s so good at keeping a poker face that you wouldn’t have even been able to tell it was too spicy for him if not for the beads of sweat on his face. You give him milk to help soothe the heat but he never lives it down

But you actually are so mothering to the kids, you make them turmeric milk when they’re sick and chai with biscuits when they come home from school🫶and it's so sweet it makes Bruce fall for you all over again

When you move in the whole wearing shoes in the house still bothers you, but you can’t stop everyone else from doing it, so you declare your bedroom a no shoes zone. Bruce can wear shoes anywhere else in the house but NOT your bedroom.

And if you still feel weird about wearing shoes around the manor, he'll buy you a bunch of pairs of home slippers and stash them all over the place

Whenever you stay over he brings you chai in the morning. Once you're married and living with him, he brings it to you in bed every morning. At one point he's like "You know Alfred can bring it for both of us" but you insist it tastes so much better when it's from him, and he can't say no to you.

me personally i like to support women's organizations in south asia, i.e. access to education and better healthcare which means things like menstrual products & obgyn care so i am going to hc that after you share how passionate you are about those, WE partners with an existing charity for those issues, both in south asia and other parts of the world and raises tons of money to donate...take that if you like it (world so bad we writing fanfic about equality now😭)

Since he's a famous billionaire playboy he 100% has an internet presence (likely curated to fit Brucie) and there are tons of edits and memes about him. When the world finds out his partner is south asian, brown people probably go a little insane and there's definitely tons of those memes where they photoshop his face over someone in traditional wear and caption it "Bajju Wagle" or some other name with his initials LMAO

74 notes · View notes

yeondollie · 1 year ago

Text

ɪᴛ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ♡ 𝜗𝜚

. . paring ; toxic! yeonjun x fem! reader

. . warnings ; ANGST .ᐟ, fighting, drabble, explicit language, crying, degration, junnie is mean, kinda? fluff, apologizing, good ending, nicknames (baby, pretty girl, princess), i thinkkk that it :D !

a/n ; hiiii guys !! i missed you so so much im so sorry for the sudden break . . i had a lot going on n stuff but i'm feeling better and back to writing fics :> ! i was listening to it almost worked-tv girl this morning and omgg i love tv girl smm but i needed to make a fic about something like this soo enjoy ᥫ᭡

“why the fuck are you so dramatic?” yeonjun scoffed, looking up at you as he sat on the couch. you two had been fighting for what seemed like forever but in reality, it had been on and off for about a week. yeonjun was pisses, livid even because of the way you’ve been acting.

you had blown up his phone, went on a drive at three in the morning, and even blew up his friends phone because after another argument about god knows what he had left. he left without saying anything and to you that meant possibly another woman.

as he stared up at you in anger, you suddenly started to feel bad. maybe you had took it too far this time, maybe you needed to have some trust in him. “jun.. i was just worried. thats all..” you say, in a quiet and gentle voice.

you were never one to get anger or yell or even cuss; he was the complete opposite of you. “_____ i dont give a fuck! you’re so clingy it’s disgusting..” his face made it clear, he wasn’t lying. he meant every word that came out of his mouth.

it was coming out again. not word vomit, not even actual vomit but just pure tears. they started dwelling in your eyes and suddenly your vision went blurry. “y-yeonjun..” he noticed your shaky voice, shaky hands, and most importantly- glassy eyes.

his heart started to crack and he realized just what he had said to you. his mind went blank and all he could do was slowly wrap his arms around you. when you called him ‘yeonjun’ rather than ‘jun’ or ‘jjunnie’ his heart stopped.

“i-i didn’t mean to.. u-upset you yeonjun. i was j-just worried.” while not hugging him back, you just stood there- limp. he desperately held onto you. this was the first time that either two of you have had any type of physical contact in weeks.

his words started to sink in. no not into you but into him. had he really said that to you? his hands were all over you. caressing your face, hugging you, even planting kisses all over your pretty face. “i-i didn’t mean any of that princess.. i-i where are you going?”

before you could reply to him, you walked your way to your bedroom. locking the door before you slumped on your bed and started crying into the pillows. you could hear loud banging on the door accompanied by a few “im sorrys” from time to time.

eventually, you fell asleep. all the crying did really tire you out and you just wanted to forget about the situation at the moment. it was now 7:38pm and it was silent. silent outside, completely dark, and yet you could see your phone light up, over and over again.

jjun !!

im sorry baby i didn’t mean any of it i miss you please im sososo sorry pretty girl r u sleeping? sorry i love you so much

you

im awake now come in my room plz i miss u more baby

you slowly hear the door crack open and your boyfriend walks in, his glassy eyes staining his originally cold ones. “_____ i.. please im sorry i didn’t mean to hurt my b-baby..” he carefully sits in your bed, placing a hand on your head and comforting you.

safe to say it worked, it always did. here was the thing, it was always a cycle with yeonjun. there was no “time apart” or even a break of some sorts. he always convinced you to stay or hear him out. and you did just that, time and time again.

“i-its okay jun.. come here please.” you sniffle and he enters the covers and wraps his arms around you. he was so warm, so comforting it almost made you forget what he made you feel like when you weren’t in his arms. the next hour and a half consisted of his corny compliments to get you back where he needed you.

“you’re so pretty princess, you know that?” he whispers in your ear, planting kisses all over your face. he was trying to butter you but god it was working. you could feel the butterflies in your stomach and the heat rising up to your face. “junnie..” you cover your face in embarrassment.

yet he removes your hands and starts smiling at your flustered face. he cant help it. you look so cute, so gorgeous, so beautiful he couldnt help but continue to stare and smile at you. “its true.. but im really sorry i didn’t mean any of that. i..i really wanna make us work pretty girl.”

god just that nickname got you latching onto him for dear life like he was gonna run away from you. he wanted to make it work. just for you guys? your heart was touched yet a part of you doubted every word that came out of his mouth. but maybe this time he’d be different.

“i know jun.. me too. i want you. i want you more than anything.” you smile, feeling content for the time being.

a/n ; i know i’ve been gone for FOREVER and im so so so so so sorry ! school was stressing me but im on spring break heheheh :0 so expect more fics! (i hope)

#txt fanfic #txt x reader #txt #txt scenarios #tubatu #yeondolliesworks #tomorrow x together #txt angst #yeonjun #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x you #yeonjun angst #yeonjun x reader

369 notes · View notes

anton-luvr · 1 year ago

Note

shotaro x gn reader and they have a sleepover and they do the cutesy norms like makeovers, face masks, watch movies n gossip but then they start playing stuff like 20 questions and things get personal (gn confesses) and shotaro returns his feels and they kiss and it gets a little suggestive????? (if you’re comfortable, ofc!!) 🫶🏽

# SPECIAL SOMEONE.

𖦹 bf!shotaro x gn!reader | fluff & suggestive | friends 2 lovers au

𖦹 note ; first taro fic here!!! also im so sorry for how long this took irene thank u for waiting and always supporting me :( + reqs are CLOSED, soft hours OPEN !!

Sleepovers after exams were tradition for you and Shotaro.

This time round was no different.

After gossiping about the latest drama in your university over Chinese takeaway in his kitchen and throwing a fashion show in his bedroom with almost all of his clothes, the both of you settled down for more calmer activities.

You would usually watch a movie, but Shotaro had been pestering you for weeks to play 20 Questions with him, claiming it was a ‘fun’ game that would allow the both of you to ‘understand each other better’.

So here you were, sitting cross legged across him on his bed while his favorite R&B songs played softly from his speakers.

“Okay, what’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?” you ask, looking up from the list of questions he had sent you.

His pretty eyes light up, and he immediately starts rambling excitedly to you about what sounds like a dream of Godzilla doing ballet in New York City.

You’d understand it if you were paying attention, but you just couldn’t help but get distracted.

Shotaro was so effortlessly gorgeous.

His freshly dyed blonde hair suited him so well, a bright color that complimented the shine of love and sincerity in his eyes for those around him. It also made his cherry red lips pop, looking so soft and so plush while he continued talking about his weird dream.

And when he laughed?

It was a melody that you never wanted to stop listening to, a sound that brought out your own smile while your body warmed up at how cute he was.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up from his lips to see him staring at you.

“Are you okay? You kinda spaced out.” he asks, head tilted in confusion.

Embarrassed, you nod your head. “Yeah, sorry I was thinking about something.” you lied, grinning sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” he laughs, flashing you his signature smile. “It's my turn to ask you a question now.”

Neither of you say anything as he scrolls through the questions, pouting in concentration as he tries to pick one.

“Ooh, this one is nice.” he giggles, smirking at you as he puts his phone aside.

“What was your first kiss like?” he asks dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows at you in a teasing manner.

“M-My first kiss?” you sputtered, almost choking on your own spit.

Shotaro hums eagerly.

“Well, I’ve never had one yet.” you admit, laughing awkwardly.

At this, Shotaro waves his hand in the air as if to dismiss what you said. "Nah, no way." he chuckles. "Someone as pretty and as nice as you hasn't had their first kiss yet? Lies."

Your cheeks burn at his compliment, but you shake your head. "I'm serious, Taro." you said.

He blinks in surprise at you, mumbling a soft "Oh."

"Well... then when do you want to have your first kiss?" he asks.

You can only offer a shrug as you sigh, lying down on his bed.

“When I find the right person, I guess.” you mutter.

Shotaro lies down beside you too, propped up by his arm to look at you.

“Anyone particular in mind?” he teases, back to wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Oh, little did he know who it was.

First kisses seemed to be something so special and so intimate to you, so logically, you would want to have your first kiss with someone special.

Someone who truly meant something to you.

And that someone was Shotaro.

He somehow manages to sees things that others don’t, looking out for you in situations that always catches you by surprise.

It could be the jacket that he casually wrapped around you at a party because he noticed the goosebumps on your arms, or the time he got you your favorite pen when it ran out of ink and he saw you using another pen in class.

It could be when he offered to piggyback you across the muddy road after it rained, knowing how much you liked your white sneakers and wouldn’t want them dirty.

It could be in moments like these, where just his smile made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You.”

“M-Me?” Shotaro stutters, eyes wide with surprise while his face flushed a light red.

"Yeah, you. I like you, Taro.” you confess. “You’re the one I’d want to have my first kiss with. It’s fine if you don’t have the same feelings, I just thought I’d let you know.” you add on, smiling softly at the end.

Like the angel he was, you thought Shotaro would reject you nicely, but he proves that idea wrong when he tells you quite the opposite.

“I like you too." he says gently, a dazed smile on his lips.

“No way.” you mumble, frowning suspiciously at him.

“Yes way.” he giggles.

“Let’s have your first kiss, shall we?” is all he says before his lips crash against yours.

You can’t help but smile into the kiss at how right it all feels, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

And even though you were inexperienced, you learned quickly from Shotaro. Soon enough, he could taste your vanilla lip balm on his lips, mind spinning from the feeling of your tongue against his.

The kiss eventually deepens, and a heavy desperation for each other starts to make its way into the kiss.

“More?” Shotaro asks as he pulls away, panting and his eyes darkening with need.

“More.” you answer breathlessly, as you tug him back down by his sweater to kiss you.

It’s soon discarded into a corner of Shotaro’s room as you spend the rest of the night intertwined, hands exploring each other and lips never once leaving each other.

Just you and your special someone.

tag list ; @wonbons (comment/drop an ask to be added to tag list!)

#riize #riize fluff #riize fics #riize drabbles #riize imagines #riize shotaro #shotaro riize #shotaro #kpop fics #kpop fluff #riize icons #riize x reader #riize smut

227 notes · View notes

deerlysacred · 4 days ago

Text

�� axe the cat | i can fix him (no really i can) | chapter one

⟆ tom hanniger x fem!reader

𐂂 𝄢 { you came to valentine bluffs to visit your friend, but things take an unexpected turn when you meet a man…}

𖣂 𝄢 this short series will include: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, knife-play etc. in the future chapters, i'm not sure yet. i'm not encouraging anything, it's just fantasies.

♪ series inspired by the song 'i can fix him (no really i can)' by taylor swift.

🍄𝄢 we as a society need more tom hanniger c.ai bots . . . please 😕

‼️ 𝄢 i do not own my bloody valentine or any of its characters; all rights belong to their respective creators. this is purely a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only, with no intention of profit.

The streets of Valentine Bluffs were eerily quiet, wrapped in a thick winter chill. Streetlights flickered like dying fireflies, casting hazy golden pools onto the cracked pavement, that yellow light flickering visual almost looking like warning signs. The rain had stopped, but the roads were still slick, and so were you— soaked a little, probably on the fast track to catching a cold. Not that you were paying much attention to your inevitable doom by pneumonia.

Your focus was on the tiny, unexpected companion that had decided you were its new best friend. Crouched beside the gray kitten, you gently scratched behind its ears, and it rewarded you with a deep, contented purr, pressing into your touch like it had known you forever.

"Do you have a name, little one?" you whispered, smiling as the kitten bumped its wet nose against your fingers.

It meowed, fluffy tail flicking. That was definitely a no. You could feel it deep in your soul that this cat was nameless, wandering, searching. Kinda just like you, right now.

Maybe you should name it! Something cool, something cute that would fit his color. Storm? No, too dramatic. Shadow? Too basic. Ash? Yeah. You kinda liked Ash, short and sweet.

Just as you were about to introduce the kitten to its new identity, the sound of approaching footsteps made you tense. Your fingers froze mid-scratch, heart stuttering against your ribs. You glanced up—

A man.

Tall. Fit. All dressed in dark clothes, a black hoodie and pants. His short cropped dirty blond hair was a little disheleved, maybe because he just yanked down the hood when he saw you, you guessed. His sharp green eyes reflected the dim golden light coming from the streetlight, unreadable but undeniably locked on you. A stranger, but… something about him felt unsafe. Not just physically, but like… something about his intense gaze urged you to run away for a reason.

"Cute little thing you've got there." His voice was smooth, careful. Measured. "Lost in Valentine Bluffs this time of night, though? Might not be the safest idea."

You swallowed, nerves prickling beneath your skin. Strangers made you anxious. Handsome strangers made you extra anxious. You cleared your throat, standing up. "I, um—… I'm not… lost. I was supposed to stay with a friend, but her dad got sick, so I—" You bit your lip, forcing a small laugh. "I guess I'm figuring things out."

His head tilted, studying you. Not even blinking.

"Figuring things out," he repeated but it was almost to himself; like he took a mental note in the back of his mind. Then, he spoke, his voice low. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

You blinked, biting the insides of your cheek. Oh. Right. The part where you actually have no plan.

"Well, I was… probably gonna catch a bus." You scratched the back of your head. "Somehow."

At that, his lips twitched slightly— like he wanted to smirk but stopped himself. "A bus?" he mused, raising his eyebrows, it was obvious from his reaction that your answer sounded like a joke. "I hate to break it to you, but the next one out of here isn't until morning."

"Oh." You blinked again. Okay. Okay, that was not great.

Your brain scrambled for a backup plan, but it was almost no secret that you had no alternatives. You didn't really have enough money for taxi, there was no way you could find money until morning. The man watched you stall, then he spoke after he licked his lips.

"What if I offered you a place?"

Your breath caught. His tone was casual —maybe even polite— but there was something in his eyes. Something insistent, calculating…

"You shouldn't be out here alone," he continued, voice smooth but firm. "Not with everything that's been happening in town. I guarantee it'd be safer than these streets tonight."

Silence stretched between you as you thought about the offer. The kitten —Ash— rubbed against your ankle like it was waiting for your answer too. Traitor.

A place to stay.

With a stranger.

Your mind ran through every worst-case scenario at lightning speed. Murder. Kidnapping. Something worse that your brain refused to name. Yeah, no way… This was literally the kind of moment that horror movies warned you about. Strange man offers you shelter in a creepy town? That was step one in every true crime documentary ever.

You forced a shaky breath, willing your voice to stay steady. You had to be smart, but also remain kind.

"That's… really nice of you, but I think I'll be okay," you started, taking a step back. You felt small standing in front of him, like a rabbit caught by a big bad wolf. "I'll figure something out myself. Maybe I can find a diner that's open late and stay there until tomorrow morning, then I'll just get on the first bus. No offense, but I don't usually go home with strange men I meet on the street."

A small huff of air left his nose, his lips curved into something between a smile and laugh. Then he nodded and spoke. "Smart. Can't say I blame you."

For a second, just a second, you thought that was the end of it. That he'd shrug, say something like suit yourself, and walk away. But instead, he did the opposite.

He took a step closer. Not threateningly. Not fast. Just… close enough that you could see the sharp edges of his jaw in the streetlight. Close enough that his green eyes flickered with something intense.

"Look, I get it." he said. His voice was lower now, smoother. Motioning with his hands slowly like he was trying to keep you from running. "I'm just some guy you ran into. And yeah, you probably shouldn't trust me. But I mean no harm, alright? You can ask anyone in town about me."

You licked your lips, taking the kitten into your arms. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I lived here for long. I grew up here." His voice was still steady, but there was something underneath it now— an edge of insistence. Like he needed you to believe him. "Tom Hanniger. My father ran the mines, but… well, they're mine now that he passed away. I'm back in town to sell them."

Tom Hanniger.

The name crawled under your skin, recognition striking like a distant bell. Your friend had mentioned him before, you didn't remember when, probably during one of your face-times.

"That guy? The one who caused the accident. His screw-up buried a bunch of miners alive. Then the next year, he just disappeared after that Harry Warden nightmare, almost a decade ago now. According to the rumours, he was sent away to psycho ward or something. Nobody talks about it much, but the whole town remembers."

Your fingers went stiff in the kitten's fur. Ash let out a tiny, questioning meow, like, uh, hello? Earth to Y/N? Why are you squeezing me like a stress ball?

He must have seen it— the way your body reacted before your face could even try to hide it. His jaw twitched, green eyes sharpening.

"You've heard about me." Not a question. A fact.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. "I—"

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. When he looked at you again, there was something almost… tired in his eyes. Tired, but not surprised. Like he'd had this conversation a thousand times before, and every single time it played out the exact same way.

"Let me guess." His voice was lower now, rougher. "The accident."

You looked down, scared to even answer truthfully. Tom didn't speak, he just watched you. Afterwards, he nodded slowly and murmured. "Yeah, figured as much."

He didn't sound angry. If anything, he sounded… resigned. Like he'd already made peace with the fact that people would always look at him that way. As the guy who caused the accident. The guy nobody in this town would ever really trust again.

Tom shifted his weight, adjusting the strap of his backpack over one shoulder. "Can't blame you," he added, almost like an afterthought. "I wouldn't wanna go with me either."

Then he turned and walked away.

You watched him go, a strange guilt twisting inside your chest. You did the right thing, didn't you? You barely knew him, and what you did know wasn't exactly comforting. But still… he had offered. He hadn't pushed. And now he was leaving, just like that. It was stupid. You should have felt relieved. You should have exhaled, loosened your grip on the kitten, maybe even smiled a little because hey— you got out of an uncomfortable situation without things getting weird. Maybe even dangerous. But why did you feel so horrible? That last look he gave you when he understood where you knew him, like a beaten puppy, sat in your stomach like a stone.

Ash let out another small meow, flicking his tiny tail. You sighed, burying your face in his fur. "I know, I know," you whispered. "I should've said something. Maybe deny to not make him feel bad over something he probably already regrets deeply. But have you met me? Verbal disaster. A total human shrimp."

Ash purred, either in agreement or because he had no idea what you were saying but liked the attention.

Your thoughts and little chat with Ash were interrupted by a bark, a loud and wild one, followed by the frantic skitter of claws against pavement. A freaking dog.

You flinched, heart jumping up into your throat. The sound came from somewhere nearby, the kitten in your arms went rigid, its tiny body trembling. The last thing you wanted was to be stranded out here, surrounded by stray dogs in the middle of a town you knew nearly nothing about.

Your eyes flicked towards the direction Tom had gone. His silhouette was barely visible now, swallowed up by the night. Your body moved by itself, taking a step forward. Then another. Crap. Crap.

A sharp bark rang out, it was even closer now, and that was it. You bolted after Tom, your feet slapping against the pavement as your panic pushed you forward. "Wait—! Hold on!"

His pace slowed, and then he stopped completely, turning just in time to see you nearly crash into him. His hands instinctively caught your arms, steadying you. You stood there for a moment, staring up at him. Trying to catch your breath.

He arched a brow. "Changed your mind?"

You swallowed hard. Yes. But not because of what he thought.

"I just—" You glanced over your shoulder, but the barking was no longer heard, and there was absolutely no dogs. The street was dead-quiet again. Well. That's embarrassing.

You turned back to Tom, cheeks burning. "I just… don't want to be alone here, I don't have anywhere to go. I'm not even sure if there will be any 24/7 open places nearby. This place creeps me out, I hear barkings, and it's getting late. And it's cold. And—" You stopped yourself before you could ramble any further, awkwardly shifting the kitten in your arms. "I just really need today to end. Can I come with you? I mean, if the offer still stands."

Tom tilted his head slightly and let out a low chuckle, giving you a small nod. "Yeah. It does."

You nodded and started to walk beside him, the uneven rhythm of your boots clicking softly against the pavement. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it was there, hanging between you like a thin veil of uncertainty.

So, you cleared your throat and decided to speak. "I realized I didn't introduce myself, I'm Y/N."

Tom glanced over, giving a small nod like he was committing your name to memory. "Y/N. Nice to meet you."

You smiled, tucking your chin in your scarf slightly, suddenly feeling way too aware of yourself. Luckily, the kitten in your arms —now nestled comfortably against your chest— provided a distraction. It purred softly, its tiny body warm against your coat.

Tom notices, his gaze flicking downward. "Guess you made a friend."

You glanced down at the kitten, brushing a finger gently over its tiny ear. "Yeah. He kind of just… found me."

Tom chuckled lowly, amused. "Lucky little guy."

You smiled a bit, rubbing small circles into the kitten's fur before you spoke softly. "I was actually thinking of naming him Ash, since he's gray. And kind of soot-colored, y'know."

Tom tilted his head slightly, considering. "Ash, huh?"

You nodded. "Yeah. You know, like fireplace ash. Or I can name him—"

"Axe." His lips twitched, just barely— like he was trying very hard not to grin. "I think he looks more like an Axe."

You stared at him, waiting for the punchline that never came because you expected him to be joking. Then you glanced down at the tiny creature curled in your arms, its whole body roughly the size of your palm.

"…Axe?"

Tom shrugged, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "It's a strong name."

You let out a small, incredulous laugh. "He's, like, the size of a dinner roll."

"Exactly. Gotta make up for it somehow."

You squinted at him. "Are you naming my kitten like he's a Viking warrior?"

Tom grinned. "Maybe."

You shook your head, letting out another breathy laugh. "Ash is cuter."

"Depends on how you look at it," Tom said smoothly. "But it's your cat."

You glanced down at the tiny, sleepy creature in your arms, warmth blooming in your chest.

"Ash…? You like your name?" you whispered, testing it out again. The kitten let out a tiny, content sigh, snuggling closer.

Tom exhaled through his nose. "Fine. Ash it is."

Another small silence stretched between you, but this time, it felt a little lighter. More casual. After a few seconds, Tom nodded towards the road ahead. "Normally, I'd have my Jeep, but it broke down a little ways back."

"Oh." You tilted your head, glancing at him. "Bad timing, huh?"

"Yeah." He spoke almost thoughtful, fingers flexed slightly in his pockets. "Was on my way back from a friend's place when it gave out, after a short visit. Didn't feel like dealing with it in the middle of the night."

You nodded, but before you could say anything, the distant wail of police sirens cut through the quiet night. The sound stretched and repeated, a bad omen echoing through the empty streets. Your body tensed instinctively, and even Ash stirred in your arms, his tiny ears twitching at the disturbance.

Tom barely reacted. He only turned his head slightly in the direction of the sound, his expression unreadable. But there was something about the way his shoulders squared, the way his jaw tightened ever so subtly, that made you think he was interested more than he let it show.

You swallowed. "The things happening lately… They're… weird, right? A small town like Valentine Bluffs doesn't seem like the kind of place with a lot of crime."

Tom didn't answer right away. His eyes flicked toward you, assessing. "Guess not." he said finally.

The unease curled in your stomach, slow and creeping. You shifted your grip on Ash, and the kitten let out a small, restless noise, like he could sense it too. "Do you think it's about… him?"

Tom turned his head, eyebrows knitting slightly. "Who?"

You hesitated, feeling a sudden weight settle over you, like just saying the name might summon something from the dark. But you said it anyway.

"Harry Warden."

Tom blinked. Then, exhaling through his nose, he looked down at the cracked pavement as he walked, his boots scuffing against the road. "Yeah. Probably."

The words landed heavily, leaving a hollow feeling in your chest. You wet your lips, then forced yourself to speak. "Do you believe it? That he's back?"

His silence stretched between you, thick as the cold night air. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. "Do you?"

You frowned, glancing down at Ash. Your fingers absently ran along the kitten's tiny spine, grounding yourself in the warmth of his fragile body. "I don’t know," you admitted. "I mean, it sounds crazy, right? He's supposed to be dead."

Tom let out a quiet hum, still staring ahead. "Bodies go missing all the time."

A shiver ran down your spine. That wasn't exactly comforting.

"…But why would he come back now?" you murmured, more to yourself than anything.

Tom shrugged. "Maybe unfinished business."

Something about the way he said it made you turn your head, studying him. His face remained calm, too calm. Like this wasn't just a passing thought to him. Like he thought about it before. A lot. If the rumors were true— if he really had spent time in treatment after what happened— it would made sense, right? He must have asked himself these same questions over and over again.

"…Do you believe it?" you asked again, softer this time, watching him carefully.

"We're here." He said, implying you arrived. Stopping on your tracks to look at Tom's house that came into view. It sat on the edge of town where you two walked, looming against the dark backdrop of the hills. And it was… well, intimidating. This wasn't some cozy little house with chipped paint and a creaky front step. This was sleek. Modern. The kind of place with expensive taste written all over it. Sharp edged, tall and dark glass towering windows that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. The driveway stretched long and smooth under the dim outdoor lighting, leading up to a blacked-out Jeep parked at an angle near the garage.

You stared at it, eyebrows furrowing. "Didn't you say your Jeep broke down?"

Tom followed your gaze, then exhaled through his nose, amused. "That's the old one."

You blinked. "Oh." Okay, rich boy.

He didn't elaborate— just pulled out his keys and moved towards the door like this wasn't a big deal. Meanwhile, you were suddenly very aware that you were about to step inside a stranger's house. A man you had known for all of ten minutes. A man whose name was permanently attached to words like accident and psychological treatment.

Your grip on Ash tightened.

Tom stepped inside, not bothering to hold the door open or check if you were following. Like he knew you would.

…And, well, he was right.

You stepped inside cautiously, the air inside smelled like cedar and leather. Warm, rich, maybe even a little comforting if you ignored the fact that this house looked like it belonged to a problematic billionaire. Dark wood floors, dim lighting, furniture so expensive-looking that you felt like just existing near it might rack up a debt. Tom shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair, he nodded towards the couch. "You can sit."

Ash stretched in your arms, little claws poking at your sweater. You very carefully perched on the edge of the couch, holding him close like some kind of feline shield. "Nice place." you said.

Tom hummed, already walking towards the kitchen. "Thanks. It was my dad's."

Oh. Right. The dad who was gone.

Tom disappeared around the corner, and a second later, you heard the fridge open. "You hungry?"

"Oh, um—" You had every intention of shaking your head, waving off the offer with a polite little oh no, I'm fine, because the last thing you wanted was to be an inconvenience. But before you could get the words out —before you could so much as pretend that you weren't starving— your own stomach decided to publicly betray you. A deep, humiliating grumble erupted from your stomach, cutting through the silence.

You froze.

Tom paused.

Ash blinked up at you like he, too, was judging.

Slowly, Tom leaned back into view, one eyebrow arched in obvious amusement.

Your face caught fire. "That wasn't me."

Tom smirked. "No?"

"Nope." You cleared your throat, gripping Ash like a lifeline. "That was— uh, the cat."

Tom let that sit in the air for a second, then he gave you a very slow, very deliberate once-over. "Ash is the size of my hand. Pretty sure he's not hiding an appetite that big."

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again, scrambling for an argument that did not exist. Tom chuckled, low and quiet, shaking his head before disappearing back into the kitchen. "I'll make something."

You groaned and slumped against the couch, covering your face with one hand. Great. Now I'm the stray he's feeding.

You sat on the couch and just waited, Ash curled up in your lap as you were petting him, he was purring contentedly. Tom had disappeared into the kitchen for a while, the sounds of the boiling water humming and the soft clinking of plates drifting through the house. Finally, Tom returned, carrying two steaming plates of food— some sort of pasta with a rich, creamy sauce that smelled so delicious it made your stomach grumble again. He handed you a plate, and you took it, offering a smile in thanks.

"Here you go. I wasn't sure what you'd like, but I figured you couldn't go wrong with pasta." he said.

"Thanks." you muttered, digging in. It tasted as good as it smelled— warm and tasty, the sauce was flavorful. You couldn't help but take a few more bites than you'd planned. The longer you sat with him there, the easier the conversation became— once he wasn't leaning so heavily into that quiet, brooding edge, you found he was surprisingly easy to talk to. You asked him questions about mining, complimented his cooking, talked about his interests, the strange little quirks of Valentine Bluffs, how long he had lived here.

Now, Ash laid curled in your lap, a tiny, purring ball of warmth. There was something oddly intimate about this moment, sitting here in the dim glow of the living room, the quiet hum of conversation filling the space between you and Tom. It felt… normal. Like this was something that happened often, like this was natural.

And then the breaking news flickered on TV.

You barely registered the movement as you reached for the remote, raising the volume out of habit. The low murmur of the news filled the room, the familiar drone of the local broadcast settling into the background. Tom, still leaning back against the couch, long legs sprawled out, took a slow sip from his beer, seemed as unfazed as ever.

"… in a just tragic and violent murder that shocked the town of Valentine Bluffs, local resident Ben Foley was found murdered near his home. Authorities are still investigating, but early reports suggest the cause of death may have been blunt force trauma, possibly from an axe…"

Your stomach dropped.

The words hit like a sharp slap. Your fingers clenched subtly into Ash's fur, his tiny body shifting against your lap as the news anchor's voice droned on. Images flashed across the screen— a familiar street corner, yellow tape cutting through the dark, the flashing glow of red and blue lights flickering.

But none of it mattered to you. Not the street, not the tape, not even the body in the body bag.

It was the detail.

The axe.

An axe.

Your breath caught. Your mind stuttered, jumping tracks before landing somewhere earlier in the evening, back when everything still felt safe.

"You should name him Axe."

Tom's voice. His suggestion. A joke at the time, something meaningless. Except now, as you slowly turned your gaze towards him, it didn't feel meaningless at all.

He wasn't looking at the screen, wasn't watching the news. His gaze had drifted off, locked somewhere in the distance, unfocused like he was thinking. Like he was somewhere else. His face remained impassive, but the way he sat; too still, too at ease despite the freshly new murder happened in this town… it unsettled something deep in your gut.

You swallowed, forcing a small, uncertain laugh in a desperate attempt to cut through the weight in the room. "Well, that's… horrifying."

Tom hummed in acknowledgment; a low, absent sound like he barely processed what you said. "Yeah." His voice was flat, emotionless.

You wanted to believe this was nothing. That he was just like this, that maybe he was just naturally cold looking, hard to read, emotionally distant. But the longer you sat there, the longer that awful silence stretched between you, the more your instincts screamed at you that something was wrong.

"Tom, I—" Your voice faltered. You weren't even sure what you meant to say.

You just knew you needed to leave.

You shifted, the weight of Ash warm against your lap, but your limbs felt heavy, slow, like your body was catching onto the danger just a second after your mind. You forced yourself to move anyway, forcing your fingers to grip the edge of the couch as you pushed yourself up. Ash mewed at the sudden movement, but you barely heard him. Your pulse pounded in your ears.

You cleared your throat, trying to act casual. "I— uh, I think I should go, thanks for the food. Can you call me a cab?"

Tom didn't respond for a moment. His gaze was locked on the TV, though you could see the subtle shift in his posture— the way his shoulders tightened just a fraction. You expected him to deny and insist for you to stay, but after a quiet moment, he nodded.

"Yeah, sure. Be careful out there, you can't even trust the driver around here, especially nowadays." he said softly as he grabbed his phone, but his words were somehow too quiet. It didn't sound like concern, not in the way you were used to hearing it. More like a warning, disguised as politeness.

You stood up, Ash still nestled in your arms, but your legs felt like they were made of lead. You took one step towards the door, and then another, but each one felt like an effort to force yourself to move.

"Hey." Tom called after you, his voice still was soft, but it sent a chill up your spine.

You turned to face him. His lips twitched into a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Before you go, though," he said, standing up from the couch slowly, "you think about keeping Axe? I have a vet friend in town, if you stay tonight, I can drive you to bus station myself and make sure the kitten's all healthy on the way. Wouldn't that be better?"

Your breath froze, your heart pounding in your ears. Axe.

Suddenly, the walls of the house seemed to close in on you. You couldn't even speak, just shook your head and trying to reach for the door as quickly as possible, but before you could take more than a few steps, something sharp shot through your head. You gasped, your vision blurring for a split second as your legs wobbled beneath you. You barely registered the sudden rush of dizziness before everything around you spun, and your knees gave out.

Tom was there, his arms steadying you, his hands handling you gentle as he helped you lay back on the couch. The last thing you heard before everything faded to black was Tom's voice, smooth and low. "It's okay. Just relax. You've had a long night, Y/N."

#𐂂 𝄢 syl's fics #tom hanniger x female!reader #tom hanniger x reader #tom hanniger x you #tom hanniger #my bloody valentine #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader

21 notes · View notes