#you all convinced me to read this series even if you didn't know I was stalking
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Excuse me? Oh no
Part 1 - curiosity
platonic!yandere!batfam x reader
Warnings: this was made with MALE reader in mind but please interpretate the gender however you like, the reader here is minor coded but no confirmed age, invasion of privacy, out of character depictions, this is a joke fic but taken seriously, mentions of kidnapping, no beta we die like jason
Dividers by aquazero
(this is a series) part one (your here) , part 2 , part 3, part 4
PLOT: you were given a phone, but your "family" can't help but feel nosy about your own privacy
You hate it here. There was no doubt to that, you have been held hostage by the Wayne's for a couple of months now and it was terrifying AND somewhat annoying. You don't these guys, you haven't met them until like when you were kidnapped, it was horrible.
They promised you can have boundaries, they broke those, privacy, you don't know they don't actually allow that, you felt like they were trying to be as considerate to you as possible for you to stay and you can't help but be in sort of awe, they are your kidnappers and despite their possessive and terrifying tendencies you felt like they geniuely cared for you (you didn't even wanna be here), so to cope with this situation you do what other people do- staying on social media.
Bruce gave you a new phone a few weeks ago and you have been obsessively using it so you could feel you have security again, not ideal nor healthy but hey, what else is there? You found a way to log in into your old Tumblr and/or Wattpad account, obviously you were trying to hide th fact from the bat family, you would be lectured for hours! So you tried to keep it in a down low, removing every search, hiding apps, deleting shit is saddening but it's for your safety and security.
Damian. He was the first to notice you spending much more time on your phone recently and as the little as he is, he tries peeking behind on what your doing but can't see clearly but he sees words? No texting- what is it your reading? "What is that?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and weirdly stern tone of voice, you flinched and quickly existed the app "o-oh! nothing." You are horrible at lying when it comes to Damian, he makes you feel.. uneasy.
Damian wasn't convinced as expected and he tries to grab the cellular device in your hand and with your idiotic instincts you slapped his hand away, he gasps and he turns irritated. That wasn't your best move. "How could you? All I want is to make sure you're safe and this is how you react?!" He huffs and now you're scared, like they are always so unpredictable when they are mad.
"i-im sorry." You apologized, you wish that Damian doesn't convince Bruce to put you back in the white room. It was torture, Damian scoffs and walks away, you were left shaking, what happened just now..? You just went back reading a stupid FNAF fic to calm your nerves (you are such a weirdo)
It was dinner time, you were eating in the so called "room" you were in everyday, Bruce said you weren't ready to eat at the dinner table, whatever that means. Alfred bought you your food, you thank him and he left, is the grandpa okay?
As you eat you listen in the conversation in the dinner table, "When will we ever have them eat over here?" Seemingly to be Dicks voice, he was the one that seemed to be the most clingy to you. "When they are ready." Bruce said to him in a stoic tone. You continue to listen in..
"Father, there's something I feel that needs your attention." Damian announces, oh no what is he going to do? Bruce perks his attention to Damian with the 'hm?' sound. "I feel that Y/N is hiding something from us. Just today they slapped my hand away when I asked." He said recalling the event from earlier.
Tim who was also here (don't forget him) looks confused "like what?" He asked, Damian always seemed so dramatic about you to Tim, Damian gave an annoying sigh "Their phone! They might be hiding something in their phone!" He shouted, "they shouldn't be keeping secrets from us, were family!" He continued to argue
Oh god.
"Damian calm down, I will handle this little situation later, if they are hiding something they aren't supposed to they are going back to the white room." Bruce exclaimed and/or added.
"Doesn't that seem a bit extreme Bruce?" Jason teased with a smirk in response with Bruce's statement, Jason may present himself as the most normal and gives you a lot of freedom but he is just as controlling and possessive as the others.
"of course not, it's for their own good." Jesus Christ he is so ominous and cryptic. This is the same guy that is seen as a good billionaire?, the family continue to eat and banter
While they were eating, you were stuck in a position, when Bruce mentioned the "white room" you don't wanna go back, you don't wanna go back. That place was awful. Your privacy is not valued.
They don't care about you, they just think they do. what can you even do?
#this took too long#yandere!batfam#yandere!batfam x reader#m!reader#rare m!reader win#batfam#batfamily#tim drake#bruce wayne#dick grayson#damian wayne#damian al ghul#jason todd#batboys#yandere!batboys#platonic#im procastinating#dude.#yandere#yandere stories#fanfic#platonic yandere#batsib!reader#IM SO SORRY YOU GUYS :((#yandere batfam
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Okay, I've been nerd sniped, I'm sorry
NOTE: If you're going to reblog just to say "not reading that" or some other rude shit, DON'T. I've seen so many notifications of people just saying they couldn't be bothered to read it. I don't know if it's just that they don't see how incredibly rude and disheartening that is or if they know and don't care, but either way it really hurts to see, so please don't reblog if it's just to tell me you won't read it.
So let's go through the canonical likelihood they could each beat Goku. For the sake of keeping canon, we'll keep groups/pairs together if they would never reasonably be apart for something like this. Long post below the cut.
So first up are the ones I see that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.
Saiki K
Saiki is an omnipotent psychic/psionic with quite literally every single possible power out there. Now, this on its own isn't enough to beat Goku. Versatility doesn't mean everything, but Saiki is also powerful enough to rewrite the genetics and reality of everything within range, and his range is, so far, "Earth".
So this, on its own, would allow him to rewrite Goku's biology to make him Human. Bye bye zenkai boosts, bye bye Saiyan transformations. And Saiki, with his powers, has no trouble beating a Human of any caliber if he truly wanted to. And for those who ask "Why would he ever fight Goku?"
One simple reason: Goku would sense his immense power, and be excited for a fight. Goku is respectful enough to not force one if he's refused, but he's persistent enough to badger Saiki until he's given a chance. And Saiki, being Saiki, would simply take off one of his limiters, or both, and rewrite reality as such: "Being an alien isn't possible", thereby making it effective immediately that Goku must be lying/insane, and he is, in fact, Human. Easy win for Saiki.
And for those who would argue against this, bear in mind, the funniest way to beat Goku in this instance would be to simply make him weaker than Saiki, and Saiki is a gag character from a gag series, and it's already been shown in the world of Dragon Ball, and again in Dragon Ball Super, that Goku is incapable of defeating a gag character regardless of that characters canonical ability.
Saiki could win without gag character status, but even in the instance of Goku "beating" him, the gag would turn out to be that Saiki only pretended to get beaten, and is actually entirely unharmed because it was the easiest way to get Goku to leave him alone. Followed by a reveal that Goku will still show up now and then to ask for sparring matches, to drive the point home.
Popeye
Gag character. Would get beaten handily, crawl his way to spinach, and then be exactly as strong as he needs to be to take Goku down in however many hits is funniest.
Bugs Bunny
The gag character to end all gag characters. Someone on this hellsite once described Bugs as a "Trickster God who traps us in our own societal expectations" or some such. Like convincing Thanos to remove the Infinity Gauntlet by establishing a security checkpoint with a metal detector and shaming him into cooperating by telling him there's others waiting.
He could beat Goku in a billion ways, and each and every one of them would involve some shenanigan like Goku throwing a spirit bomb, Bugs showing up behind him holding it, saying "Ehhh, can you hold this for a second?" and as soon as Goku takes it and Bugs is off-screen, it would explode and Goku would be a pile of ashes with blinking eyes. Bugs would win because Bugs' gag is that...well, he simply can't be beaten.
The Warner Trio
Gag trio. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot would snark, sass, and sarcastic-joke their way into the scene, and they would spend the entire time poking fun at him, roasting his look, being unfazed by his attacks because "Nice laser show but we didn't bring our glowsticks." and just being too unbothered to care.
They would undoubtedly annoy Goku into admitting defeat simply to get away from them.
Road Runner
Gag character. Would force Goku to chase him, Goku would fire some blasts, chase him around, and inevitably be led right into the path of a blast he fired earlier to be disintegrated by it.
Pop Team Epic
I know nothing about this series except that it is a gag series. They are gag characters. That means Goku is inherently incapable of beating them.
ASDF Guy
Gag character. Could beat Goku with a simple "Hello, Mine-Turtle!" or "I like Trains."
Heart Diagram
Goku was literally killed by a heart virus in Future Trunks' timeline. This is one that has actually canonically already killed Goku.
Chowder
Gag character. Would likely be after S-Cells for some recipe and need to take Goku's as he's "The only Saiyan in this episode!" or some such, thereby ending the fight with a shot of Chowder wearing Goku's Gi for comedic effect while Dahl stirs raw Super Saiyan aura in a pot to hint that Chowder killed Goku for his S-Cells.
Force Ghost Trio
Gag versions of serious characters, and also ghosts. Goku is canonically unable to beat ghosts or gag characters, and these guys are both.
Those are the ones that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.
Now, let's go over the ones that could, potentially, be it likely or unlikely.
Kirby
Kirby is often considered a gag character, but he isn't. He has a very specific level of power, even if that level of power is "fuck you" levels of power. Kirby has beaten Gods, but so has Goku, even more often and with greater ease. However, Kirby has absorption and power-theft. Kirby could, potentially, absorb Goku (he isn't the brightest and Kirby has his unassuming appearance on his side) and take on his strongest form, including its powerup, and given Kirby in base form is likely more powerful than Goku in base form (Goku needed SSJ to scare Supreme Kai, Kirby beats Gods in base), it's possible Kirby would be more powerful than Goku with the same power up.
Kevin McCallister
Okay, hear me out.
Kevin is technically a gag character, BUT. He is not TRULY a gag character. He just happens to be a comedy character.
So he isn't guaranteed to win, but he could still possibly do so. How you ask?
Goku has been somewhat injured or lightly shaken by the following: planet-shattering attacks. Punches that rock the universe. Energy blasts so potent they would destroy entire galaxies.
Goku has been rendered inconsolable from the pain of the following: chest pain and a half-heartedly, boredly tossed pebble.
It is canon that when Goku and the other fighters in the series are expecting an attack or primed for battle, they are protected by their ki, like armor. It's how they're able to knock away attacks that would destroy planets, or put their "bare" hands on plasma energy that would normally burn the skin off you from a mile away let alone touching it.
This is why when Krillin threw the rock at Goku, it left him in agony and bruised him despite Goku being in Super Saiyan form at the time. This is why Chi-Chi is able to injure Goku regardless of how strong he gets.
So, how does this relate to Kevin being able to beat him? It's everything. It's critical information.
Kevin McCallister's entire M.O. is unexpected attacks. You open a door, you see a bucket fall, think it's over, turns out no, second bucket pulled by the first, second bucket is full of paint and open, you're blinded, you get your bearings, you take a step and feel cars, you smirk and step over them only to find marbles, you slip, you land on the cars which turn out to have been rigged to break easier to let loose a single thumbtack which is now firmly stuck in your back or butt. You bolt upright only to slam your head on a 2x4 that was rigged to hang down from a rope when you fell because your impact shook things enough to make it fall from a precarious perch above.
You get the idea. Every time you think it's safe to let your guard down, that's when the next wave hits. So you say "well he would stop letting his guard down" right? You fool. You know nothing of Goku. He would never put his guard UP. This is a human child, Goku can sense his pitiful power level. His strength? His speed? His ki? Weak. Pathetic. Nothing. A scouter wouldn't even register his power it's so low.
Goku never raises his guard to Chi-Chi, or to Bulma, or to Hercule. He does not raise his defense against normal, powerless, non-combative humans.
"BUT KEVIN IS COMBATIVE" No. He isn't. Goku can sense intent, power, and location. But Kevin isn't actively intending to hurt Goku. He's intending to protect himself and his home. He's not actively wanting to hurt Goku, he's just wanting Goku to leave. He doesn't have power to threaten Goku with, so Goku won't pick up on any threatening aura. And while Goku could simply instant transmission to Kevin and do what he will, we're not talking about how Goku could win, we're going over the fact Kevin could POSSIBLY win.
Enough injury and Goku is down for the count. Otherwise, Goku leaves to avoid further injury, and thereby admits defeat. Both cases, Kevin wins.
Shedinja
This one took me...quite a while. I had to do a lot of extra research for this. So, my immediate thought was Shedinja is a Ghost type, so ghost rules, right? Nah. Bug and Ghost type, and they are the physical shell left behind that has been reanimated. So they very much are physical beings, and given their ability to faint in the games and show they are capable of being physically damaged.
But There's a real case to be made for Shedinja beating Goku.
It can learn Ghost type moves, which operate on ghost-logic, and therefore are a canon weakness Goku is known to have. So things like Shadow Ball, Hex, Curse, and the like would all effect Goku regardless of Ki or form.
It also has access to Wonder Guard, which renders it "immune to all damage types that are not Super-Effective". For those unaware, we can actually attribute Typings to Goku's moves based on attributes and traits they share with Pokemon moves. His melee is, by nature, Fighting type, which Shedinja is immune to. In fact, Shedinja is immune to ALL attack types except Flying, Rock, Ghost, Dark, and Fire type moves, which are all Super Effective.
Goku's most common methods would actually fall under Fighting and Normal type attacks. "But his Ki blasts-" would be Normal type moves. You want proof?
Focus Energy is Normal Type. Quick Attack is Normal Type. Self Destruct is Normal Type. Techno Blast is Normal Type. Tera Blast is Normal Type. These are all energy based moves similar to ki blasts. Know what other energy based move is Normal Type? Hyperbeam. Which is almost identical to the Kamehameha and every other beam attack in DBZ.
Those few attacks Goku has that aren't going to be Normal Type will be Fighting Type.
Shedinja is Immune to all Normal and Fighting Type moves. Goku literally can not damage Shedinja, but Shedinja can damage Goku through Ghost Type moves. Shedinja can beat Goku. But why is it not "absolutely will" beat him? Because Goku can also transform his Ki and if he finds out Shedinja is vulnerable to fire, he can and will use that to his advantage.
That's who could potentially beat Goku. Here's who absolutely could not.
Saitama
I forgot to go over Saitama originally so here's the edit that features that analysis. Bear in mind I am saying this as someone who has seen Seasons 1 and 2 of the show AND is aware of some of the events of the manga.
A lot of reblogs over Saitama claim he is a gag character. But there is a case to be made that he is NOT. What is that case you ask? Well, for the sake of fairness, here is how I am handling gag characters: if their gag is in effect in 100% of all cases (such as looney tunes like Bugs or Road Runner) or if the gag is triggered in 100% of all cases (such as Saiki K or Chowder) then they are a True Gag Character and will insta-win.
However, if their gag has failed (such as Wario, or, yes, even Saitama) in ANY case, then it CAN fail again, and the fairest fight is one against two non-gag characters, so we can safely apply non-gag Saitama here since his gag has failed and Goku meets the conditions to cause it to fail again, which I'll explain.
So, first off, how does his gag fail? Well, his gag is that he kills everything instantly in one hit, unless he actively chooses not to. So we can safely say his gag fails if any of the following are true: he fails to instantly kill an enemy with a single hit while intending to do so, OR if he fails to kill an enemy with a serious hit intended to kill.
He meets both of these conditions. Boros survived for several seconds AFTER Saitama hit him with a Serious Punch. It was a single hit that intended to kill...But he didn't kill Boros INSTANTLY with it. Another example of his gag failing, if that doesn't satisfy, is Garou. Garou, in the manga, has survived MULTIPLE Serious Punches with intent to kill. This, on its own, is proof Saitama's Serious Punch does in fact have a limit to its output. It also proves his gag can, and does, fail against certain opponents.
So the next thing we need to look at is similarities between Garou and Boros to identify what they share that could possibly allow them to get around Saitama's gag, or to nullify it entirely. First similarity is that both are determined to have a good, satisfying fight. Boros crossed the stars seeking one, and Garou sought to become a true Monster powerful enough to force every hero, every do-gooder, to unite under one banner just to take him down. They both seek a battle to end all battles, even if Garou's intention is to end it in his favor, not simply enjoy the fight.
The second similarity is that they have incredibly unique circumstances, even by OPM standards. Garou is a man who has always felt love for the bad guy, he looks to the monsters as inspirations, as the misunderstood and the victimized by those claiming to be heroes. He's trained by an S-Class hero, and has developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of his dream. Very much a true foil to Saitama, who looked to heroes in comics as inspirations, as the righteous and unshakably moral, self-taught through and through and developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of HIS dream. Garou is, in this way, a reflection of Saitama, the Tails to Saitama's Heads, the dark to his light.
Boros on the other hand is an alien, forced to become strong by his homeworld's unforgiving conditions, developing a level of power necessary to survive and then some, and on realizing he was far too powerful for his own good, he sought purpose, meaning, and when he heard he may find a worthy opponent, he did everything he could to achieve that future, to realize his dream of facing a foe that would give him a true challenge.
So what are the similarities we can identify? Notably unique circumstances even by OPM standards, sharing strong similarities to Saitama's desires or dreams (Garou dreaming of becoming the greatest Monster vs Saitama dreaming of becoming the greatest Hero, Boros feeling lost in life and seeking a worthy foe vs Saitama feeling bored with living and wishing for the sensation of a real fight again), and the desire for a serious and ultimate battle.
Goku fits ALL of these conditions. He is an alien sent to Earth for his protection, grew up in hostile conditions (surviving on his own for most of his childhood, constant battles with Nation-level threats throughout his teen years, constant battles with world or universe-level threats throughout his adulthood), trained extensively until he was the best of the best, has the ultimate dream of a truly satisfying battle (a dream he routinely seeks out by facing down powerful foes), and being entirely bored with mundane life because there's absolutely no challenge to it, not to mention the fact he has the ultimate dream of becoming the strongest, something he shares with Saitama's pre-OPM self.
Since Goku fits ALL the conditions needed to make this battle exempt from the gag, we will NOT be considering it, as Saitama is not a True Gag Character, and Goku fitting conditions for nullifying it means we can assume actual power limits and such.
So let's look at feats of power. Saitama's Serious Side Hop technique allowed him to create AT LEAST 60 after-images (based on the manga panel) which, when compared with Sonic's 4, means Saitama was moving 15x faster than Sonic in that moment (bare minimum). An afterimage like that is created by moving at least 572mph, stopping in each position for at least 1/255th of a second (any less and the human eye can't pick up on it), so by moving from position A to B for 1/255th of a second and back to A, going 572mph between the two, you create the afterimage.
Sonic creates 4 simultaneously, meaning he needs to move to 3 positions and then back to starting position, or go from A to B, B to A, A to C, C to A, A to D, and repeat.
This means Sonic, to move into each of these positions in less than 1/255th of a second, would need to be moving ~4x faster than the speed for one afterimage. That puts him as moving at 2,228mph while creating those 4 afterimages. Given he is capable of Mach 5 speeds (he's said to be hypersonic) this feat is easy for him, as Mach 5 is 3,805mph. I assume, just as it's easier to move at top speed in a straight line than at sharp turns for a normal person, it's likely more difficult to create such consistent afterimages and so the difficulty that makes it his best attack is from the technique and reaction involved, not the speed itself.
In any case, if Saitama made at least 60 afterimages, putting him at 15x faster than Sonic's speed while creating 4, that puts Saitama's speed at 33,420mph just to account for the 60 we can count in the manga panel. This means 33,420 is the MINIMUM speed we can assume for Saitama's max ability. To be generous, given he wasn't winded after doing that and given he was able to react incredibly easily to the near-instant directional changes, I'll be kind and put his maximum speed at 10,000x this number.
That puts Saitama's speed at 334,200,000mph, or 49.8% the speed of light. We'll be kind again and say 50% the speed of light, round up that last .2%
So we have a speed value for Saitama. Now what about Goku? Well, let's look at Goku on Namek, for a moment. Base form Goku, at the start of his fight against Freeza. Goku, BEFORE his super saiyan transformation, was moving at 3.26 (we'll round down to 3) times the speed of light. How do I get this number? Buckle up, it's involved.
The Namekian ship Bulma, Krillin, and Gohan took to get to Namek made it from Earth to Jupiter in "seconds". That means less than a minute, so we'll say it took them 1 minute just to lowball it and to have a solid starting number. Jupiter, when the two planets are at their closest to each other (assuming shorter distance for slower speed, another lowball), is 365,000,000 miles from Earth. This means the Namekian ship moved 365mil miles in 1 minute.
That puts the Namekian ship at a speed of 21.9 billion miles per hour. They made it to Namek in 30 days of travel. The ship Goku took to Namek made the trip in 5 days. That means Goku's ship is 6 times faster than the Namekian ship. Don't worry, the ship speed DOES matter in this, I promise you.
So Goku's ship moves at 131,400,000,000mph. That's 131 billion, 400 million miles per hour. Or 195x the speed of light.
Why does the ship speed matter so much, you might ask?
Because King Kai could visually keep up with the ship. He was able to track Goku's progress with ease, and could see his ships movements without problems. This means King Kai's eyes and brain are capable of perceiving and processing things that move at 195x the speed of light.
Why does that matter? Because Super Saiyan is canonically a 50x multiplier to ALL base ability. Strength, speed, durability, etc.
And Goku, in Super Saiyan, was moving so fast King Kai stated he could no longer keep up. King Kai, capable of seeing and processing the input of vision on a ship moving 195x the speed of light, could not see or process the input of vision on Super Saiyan Goku.
We'll lowball it, and say Goku only needed to move 1 mph faster than 195x the speed of light for King Kai to lose track of him. So whatever value we get, we'll add 1mph to for Goku's base form speed.
So 195x the speed of light +1mph. 195/50=3.9x the speed of light. That's 2,616,900,000mph, adding in the extra mph makes it 2,616,900,001mph. So Base Form Goku moves at ~3.9x the speed of light, ON NAMEK. Super Saiyan is a 50x multiplier, putting him at ~195x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 2 is a 100x multiplier to Base, so 390x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 3 is a 400x multiplier, so 1,560x the speed of light. Super Saiyan God is a 20,000 multiplier so 78,000x the speed of light. Super Saiyan Blue is a 1 million times multiplier, so 3,900,000x the speed of light. And lastly, Mastered Ultra Instinct is a 300 billion times multipler, so 1.17 trillion times the speed of light.
Why did I bother going through all those multipliers? He wins in Base as of Namek saga lol. Anyway, continuing on to strength now that we've established Base Goku on Namek could move 3.9x faster than the Speed of Light while Saitama could only move at 0.5x the Speed of Light.
Strength. Okay. This one is harder to gauge, but we CAN gauge it. We'll go in terms of level of damage, so human level (would be on-par or less than peak human ability), town level (small towns), city level (large cities), nation level (an entire nation, less than a continent), continent level (one or more nations that span an entire continent), world-surface level (the surface of an Earth-sized planet), Planetary (capable of destroying an entire Earth-sized planet), Solar (capable of destroying a solar system), Galactic (capable of destroying a galaxy), multi-galactic (capable of destroying many galaxies), Universal (capable of destroying an entire universe), Multiversal (capable of destroying multiple universes).
We'll start with Goku this time. Goku's punches are, as of the Battle of Gods arc, strong enough to match Beerus perfectly to nullify the shockwaves of Beerus' attacks. Mind you, the mere shockwave of Beerus' attacks are enough to rip and tear the fabric of the universe itself, as stated by Elder Kai. This puts Goku's punches as being powerful enough to tear the fabric of the universe in when he first obtained Super Saiyan God. Why does this matter for Base Goku? Because Base Goku retained his SSJG power, as stated by Beerus.
So Goku in Base, post-battle of gods, is physically capable of punches that can tear apart the universe from the aftershocks alone. This is important to note because Elder Kai could physically feel the shockwaves from the World of the Kais. This makes Goku Universe-level in strength. This means Goku, post-BoG, in Super Saiyan is 50x stronger than what's needed for Universal, while Goku, as of current manga canon (assuming he didn't actually get any stronger since BoG and is simply more powerful due to new transformations) is capable of a form (Mastered Ultra Instinct) that puts him 300 billion times stronger than minimum Universe level strength.
And Saitama? Where does he fit here? Well, I thought this gap would be bigger honestly? But after researching, it seems the gap isn't all that big. Saitama has, canonically, with a Serious Punch, snuffed out an entire cylinder of stars and presumably every planet, moon, asteroid, and more, at a distance surpassing that of our solar system, and with a diameter surpassing it as well. This puts Saitama's power (if we lowball it MASSIVELY) at Solar. He could, in a single punch, destroy our entire solar system, and he wouldn't even need to be serious to do it. It's worth noting this is coupled with Garou's own Saitama-level Serious Punch, so we can assume this level of power is double Saitama's own.
So how do we determine the specifics? Well, he cleared an area large enough to cover, presumably, half the area of stars destroyed in the path of his and Garou's serious punches.
Through future revelations in the series we learn they didn't "destroy" every star in that path, but likely only several were destroyed, and possibly a galaxy, while the remainder of the void left behind was from the shockwave forcing every other star within range into a new position, creating a void in space that all stars had been moved from, save the few that were in the DIRECT path of their attack.
Another theory is that the Serious Punch^2 simply distorted the photons in the area, resulting in the appearance of a massive void, and this theory is based on the angles in the manga and comments made by other characters that paint Earth as the only thing in real danger from the power of the attack.
To be fair to Saitama, where we would lowball Goku, we'll highball Saitama, and say the Serious Punch^2 outright destroyed every star in the area. That level of power would, naturally, have shockwaves that push nearby stars out of the way AND distort photons in the area, resulting in a massive cone of destruction surrounded by a large cylinder of force.
This puts Saitama at, quite easily, multi-galactic level of strength.
But why did I say this gap isn't as big as I expected? One simple thing. Saitama has canonically punched his way into a different dimension in the manga. That means he's capable of brute-forcing his way out of the bounds of his universe. He is capable of physically destroying the fabric of the universe.
Meaning Saitama's strength is, bare minimum, Universal in close proximity. That puts him, strength-wise, on par with Goku, who through training has become stronger than Super Buu (who was so strong he could shout his way out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, a dimension separate from our own), meaning Goku is also Universal in close proximity.
So...while I expected Saitama to be ~Planetary, MAYBE he'd be Solar at most...Research indicates he's actually Universal, or near-Universal, meaning the fight may not be too far a gap after all.
Goku may have Saitama beat on speed (given recent manga events in OPM, I'm willing to allow that Saitama is faster than light speed, but Goku having as many forms as he does (Kaioken, which he can combine with other forms and can hit a multiplier of x100 on top of whatever power he currently has, SSJ1-3, SSJG, SSJB, MUI) means even if Saitama matches Base Goku, he's likely not going to stand up to his stronger forms).
But on strength, I'd wager they're close enough for this fight to be one hell of a battle.
What about Durability? After all, all the strength in the world won't save you if you're as easy to kill as a simple bullet to the head, right?
Goku has withstood universe-ripping punches (from Beerus, the God of Destruction, and based on comments in the manga he's one of the stronger Gods of Destruction too), dimension-tearing attacks (from Goku Black, pre-Fusion), energy blasts that even the Gods of Destruction were nervous of (from Jiren during the Tournament of Power), and he survived multiple blasts from Granolah post-wish buff, who was renowned for his sniping power pre-wish, and post-wish was as powerful as he would be if he had spent every single second of the next 147 years training non-stop with the absolute healthiest amount of rest and physical care, making him, presently, as powerful as he would be at the END of that time, with the price paid being that he only had 3 years to live as he lost 1 year of his lifespan for each power boost.
It was also clear that Granolah was the strongest in the universe...at the time of his wish. Goku and Vegeta, who were already on their way, were not as powerful as Granolah even with their transformations. They became stronger during their fight with him, and stronger still during their fight with Gas (who was more powerful than Granolah after Gas transformed and mastered his transformation).
So we can safely assume Goku is Multiversal in Durability, as he himself was able to output Universal damage with each punch, and he was able to survive hits from beings drastically stronger than himself.
What about Saitama? Well, Saitama was able to survive the force of the Serious Punch^2 and he was able to casually bust his way into another dimension. So his Serious Punch, if he wanted it to, could easily destroy the barrier between universes or dimensions.
And given he survived the force of two of them impacting each other, I would put Saitama at, bare minimum, Universe-level durability. But given he was able to survive prolonged battle against Garou, who is a Power Mimic and has shown Saitama-level strength, we can safely assume Saitama is BEYOND Universal-level durability, and so we can put him right there with Goku at Multiversal durability.
So what do we have so far?
Goku has speed equal to, in Base Form, 3.9x lightspeed, and 1.17 trillion times lightspeed in his most powerful form.
Goku has Universal level strength in Base Form, 300 billion times that in his most powerful form.
Goku has Universal durability in Base Form, Multiversal durability in his most powerful form (300 billion times his Base Form's durability).
Saitama has speed equal to, at minimum, 0.5x lightspeed, and at maximum, if we highball it, 2x lightspeed.
Saitama has Universal strength.
Saitama has Universal durability at minimum, and Multiversal durability at maximum.
At this point, I'm convinced the speed difference between Base Goku and Saitama means nothing. Saitama's durability means even with Base Goku moving at his top speed, his impacts won't be enough to beat Saitama. At top speed Base Goku may be putting out Universal damage, but he's not putting out enough to actually BEAT Saitama. Only injure.
Making me rethink my "Goku wins in Base lol" claim earlier, how dare you!
Anyway, at this point, Goku would HAVE to transform to beat Saitama. His ability to sense power and Saitama's evident inability to suppress it (as evidenced by multiple characters sensing his ungodly power even while Saitama is completely relaxed) would mean Goku would know, right away, he needs to transform for the fight.
Saitama's durability means Goku would likely need Super Saiyan 2 or 3, or, more likely, SSJG. Super Saiyan God's multiplier to Granolah-arc Goku, after all of his training with Whis and Vegeta, would most likely be enough to beat Saitama. And given SSJG is enough to "most likely" beat him, then Super Saiyan Blue (aka Super Saiyan God Super Saiyan, the form above SSJG) is surely enough, and Mastered Ultra Instinct (a form drastically more powerful than SSJB) is absolutely more than enough to beat Saitama.
And given Goku's mastery over the Kaioken technique, and he's been shown to enter Kaioken x 20 while in Super Saiyan Blue for fair amounts of time as of the Moro saga, meaning even if SSB wasn't enough, given MUI is overkill, it's possible SSB x10 or x20 would be.
The point being, Goku wins this fight due to a combination of technique, experience, and power from his transformations. Given Goku is faster than Saitama and would sense his power as Saitama doesn't know how to suppress it, nothing Saitama could do would be a surprise attack to Goku, meaning Goku would have ample opportunity to react to everything Saitama does.
And given the relatively similar strengths the two bear, Goku would recognize he needs to transform to beat Saitama's output.
And given Saitama's greater durability than Base Goku, and greater durability than even what Saitama himself can put out, Goku would see he needs to transform to have enough of his own output to beat Saitama's durability.
Conclusion: Goku would absolutely win this fight, BUT...I'll give Saitama credit where it's due.
Out of everyone on the entire list, Saitama is the fairest matchup here, and the one most likely to give Goku a truly satisfying fight, given it would be a battle on par with those Goku has enjoyed most.
Kingdom Hearts Mickey
K.H. Mickey has a clear power limit and ability set. He is not strong enough, fast enough, smart enough, or durable enough to beat Goku, but he is just enough of a threat for Goku to actually put his guard up, which is why K.H. Mickey would lose; Goku would see it as a fight, unlike with Kevin.
Crash Bandicoot
Crash isn't nearly powerful enough to be a threat to Goku, but he IS insane enough to push Goku to hostility. Goku would feel the need to put effort into getting him away and that is his downfall.
Hatsune Miku
Goku would assume she is a Red Ribbon android and fight her on assumption she's trying to kill him or bring harm to Earth. He would hit her full force expecting her to tank it and she would keel over dead instantly.
Wario
Everything he could possibly do, the Red Ribbon Army has tried and done better, and they've never beaten Goku. Neither would he.
Sans
Lost to a child with slightly above average human determination, and standard human strength and speed. He does not beat Goku.
And just because you specifically told me not to @ you, have this :)
@that-one-enby-onyx
#dbz#goku#can they beat goku#kingdom hearts#one punch man#chowder#crash bandicoot#medical diagram#road runner#bugs bunny#looney tunes#popeye#pop culture#kirby#wario#hatsune miku#saiki k#sans#undertale#shedinja#pokemon#the warner siblings#yakko wakko and dot
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the palm of your freezing hand — r. cameron
part 1. part 2. this could technically be part 2 or 3, depending on how much of this little series you've read (or if you’re not into reading smut). either way, thank you for coming along for the ride. i hope you like it :)
❝ oh, goddamn my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ❞
pairing: friend!rafe x pogue!reader
context: it's been three weeks since you found out jj cheated on you, and a week since you hooked up with rafe.
words: 1.4k+
warnings: fwb situationship, mean!jj (just for the sake of the story, we all know he’s BABY), bitchy!kie (again, just for the story—i adore her), jealous!jj, slut shaming, a little bit of angst, a little bit of blood and violence, fluff. rafe being a menace too, lowkey
you sat on a log at a party in the boneyard—one that you let john b and pope convince you to go to (you felt bad for icing them out for almost three weeks now when they weren't the ones who screwed you over)—staring out towards the ocean in a red bikini top and a pair of jean shorts, sipping on some beer that john b had brought over to you in a red cup.
he was now occupied talking to some blonde touron, sitting up in a tree, while pope talked to some other girl by the keg, and jj and kie chilled with a few other pogues, his arm slung around her shoulder.
so much for claiming to love you—he was just on his knees begging you to forgive him last week. and now, he was here with your best friend—former best friend, anyway. the two of them really had no shame.
pulling your phone out of your pocket, you begin to text rafe.
you: please tell me you're on your way.
rafe: miss me already?
you roll your eyes at his response. last weekend, after your break up with jj, you made the somewhat idiotic decision to hook up with rafe at a kook party on figure eight. you're still not exactly sure how it happened, but the sex was good, so you've kinda formed a sort of friendship with him in a way—with benefits, of course.
the three dots appear again, signaling that he was typing something else, and you wait for the message to come through.
rafe: turn around.
you furrow your brow at the text, but do as you're told and turn around, only to find a smiling rafe standing over you—dressed in a ralph lauren, short-sleeve, white collared shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.
"hey pretty girl," he greets you as you stand.
little did you know, jj was watching from afar, his eyes focused on the way you throw your arms around rafe's neck in a hug, while his hands trailed around your waist to press your body against him.
"what the fuck?" jj mutters beside kie, who snaps her head towards him.
"what's up?" she asked.
"what is he doing here?" jj felt heat rise in his chest, his eyes narrowing at you and rafe.
kie furrowed her brows at him in confusion before following his line of sight to you and rafe a good distance away, you playfully pushing against his chest with a giggle.
"shit," kie says. "i didn't see that coming."
"yeah that makes two of us," jj slams his empty cup down on the ground and stands up without another word, beelining straight for you and rafe.
"so this is why you wanted to break up," you hear jj's familiar voice fill your ears, but it wasn't sweet and sarcastic as usual—it was bitter.
you shift your eyes towards him, causing rafe to turn too, to see what or who had just pulled your attention from him.
"excuse me?" you asked.
"rafe cameron, y/n?" he snarled. "seriously? i thought you knew better than that."
"clearly i don't, considering i trusted you," you spat, causing a scowl to fall over his sharp features. "and by the way, we didn't break up because i wanted to be with rafe. we broke up because you cheated on me."
that makes rafe snap his head towards you—he knew that your relationship didn’t end on good terms, but you never really told him why. "he cheated on you?"
"with kiara."
a scoff mixed with a snicker leaves rafe's mouth as he looks at jj. "you're an even bigger idiot than i thought."
"look, shut the fuck up, man, a'ight?" jj motions a hand at him. "this isn't about you. this is about you." he turns to you again. "you're really slutting yourself up for this asshole?"
"better than slutting myself up for a cheater," you retort. "and in case you haven't noticed jj, we're broken up. what's it to you if i'm hooking up with someone else?"
"and she is, by the way," rafe throws jj a wink and smirk. "you really fucked up. i mean, really fucked up. the way she feels bro? i don’t know how you coul—"
"shut up, man," jj was getting riled up now, a hand coming up to push rafe back, a deep chuckle falling from rafe's lips as he used both his hands to push jj back.
that's enough to push your ex-boyfriend to the edge as he comes at rafe, causing him to trip over a skinny log as both of them tumble onto the sand. the noise from the tussling only pulls attention from everyone else, john b and pope immediately running over to break the two hot-headed blonds apart.
you really had a type, huh?
"what did you do?" kie comes up beside you, along with a few pogues, kooks, and tourons—who had now formed a makeshift half-circle around the scene.
you look at her, more pissed off at her accusation than rafe and jj fighting. "what makes you think i did anything?"
"you usually always do," she says.
you cross your arms and scoff. "you're one to talk."
"and what's that suppose to mean?"
"it means you were supposed to be my best friend, kiara," you tell her. “and not only did you screw our friendship over, but you did it by fucking my boyfriend. no wonder sarah cameron dropped your ass.”
she purses her lips at you, upset by your mentioning of sarah’s name. “don’t act as if this is just all on me,” she argued. “you were the one who weaseled your way in, and stole him from me.”
“stole him?” you asked, taken aback. she was the one who set you up with him in the first place. “you’ve clearly reached different levels of delusional.”
“you think i'm delusional?" she spat, crossing her arms. "you're hooking up with rafe cameron. do you really think you'll get him to fall for a pogue like you?"
before you could even answer, rafe separates the two of you, bumping into you both as jj pushes him back, and you reach out to steady him.
"you think i'm scared of you, man?" jj shouts at him, john b holding him back.
rafe chuckles and wipes at the little bit of blood beside his now busted lip with his thumb. "i think you should be."
"get your fucking boyfriend, y/n!" jj yells, his eyes shifting from rafe to you.
"you got it," you nod at him with a smile, just to piss him off more—rafe wasn't your boyfriend, but he didn't have to know that. "you wanna get out of here?" you tilt your head up at rafe, who turns his head towards you and smiles.
"lead the way, doll."
you do as he says, giving kie a small smirk as you walk past her and the makeshift crowd that had formed, everyone's eyes on the two of you.
"so… your boyfriend, huh?" rafe swings an arm around you and squeezes you to his side.
"chill, cameron," you laugh, pushing him away from you playfully. "i only said that to piss him off."
"so i'm just a toy to you then, is that what this is?" he asked, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as you both stop by his truck.
"that depends…" you trail off and turn to face him, your back resting against the passenger door of his truck. "am i just a toy to you?"
"i'm not sure yet," he shrugs, honestly. "i wouldn't have just taken a bloody lip and sand stains on my polo for anyone though."
you giggle and bring your thumb up to swipe at the beige-colored stain on his white shirt. "yeah, sorry 'bout that."
"no worries," he shakes his head, his eyes locking with yours. "i can think of one or two ways you could make it up to me."
"oh, is that so?" you kink a brow at him. "because i can tell you right now i don't have a hundred dollars to spare for a brand new ralph lauren polo shirt."
he leans a hand against his truck, beside your head, and closes the distance between you. "and who said that's what i wanted?"
you tilt your head to the side, an amused smile on your face. "then what did you have in mind?"
"let me take you out on date," he says. "a real one."
part 4.
writing rafe being soft for the reader is literally my favorite thing ever.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra
#rafe cameron#rafe#jj maybank#jj#rafe one shot#rafe fluff#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fluff#jealous jj#rafe cameron being boyfriend material#rafe x reader#cute rafe#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n
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BROTHER'S RIVAL | 03
MASTERLIST (Series)
Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ
Summary — You and your brother were born Pogues, but once your family made enough to move to Figure Eight, you became a Kook. Unfortunately, Rafe doesn't welcome Pogue-born Kooks. It doesn't help that your brother is determined to steal the 'King of Kook' title from him. So, if your brother is attempting to steal something from him, Rafe will return the favor.
Content — 18+, smut, angst, and usage of drugs.
Rafe: i don't like being ignored after giving u the best orgasm of ur life
You didn't expect to see that message flash on your screen. Especially since you're with your brother, helping him load all the shit he bought from Heyward's into the back of his truck. You didn't even know he got a truck.
Lowering your brightness, you type back a haste reply.
You: don't type that shit Dean sometimes reads my text
Rafe: but it's true
You: that's an overstatement
Rafe: how about you come over here and we'll test that?
You: no, thanks i'm with my brother
Rafe: maybe he should fuck off
You roll your eyes at the message, just as your brother calls your name. Slipping the phone into your back pocket, where you are positive Dean won't be able to reach, you turn back to see him standing on the trunk of his truck with his arms outstretched.
"Did you hear me? Bring me the next case." He declares, his tone chipped with semi-annoyance at your distraction. You were about the grab the box, but with his attitude, you decided to put your hand on your waist and stare him down instead.
"Do I look like a dog to you? Say it nicer."
Dean sighs but doesn't argue back. Rather, he prepares himself to lunge through the next few words. "My dearest sister, the light of my life, the only person in the world who I would kill for, can you pass me the goddamn beer?"
Close enough.
You reach for one of the cases of booze set near your feet and hand it off to Dean, who easily takes it off of you and stacks it in the back of his cargo bed with the rest.
"I still don't understand the plan here." You confess, picking up another box and starting a momentum. "You're going to host a party, so what? What does that gotta do with anything?"
Your brother decided that he wanted to start hosting parties at your house. Since now he's intersecting himself into more Kook spaces, he wants to also start stripping away the pride of certain members too. According to Dean, Rafe is the top host for the grandest parties on the island—his containing a multitude of wild nights and adventures, all oozed out of his all-expensive paid amenities.
But you, for the life of it, don't understand how this has anything to do with his goals. Dean confirmed, after your little encounter with Rafe on the golf course, that he did have plans on taking the title of Kook King from Rafe. That Rafe's hatred of him was not unwarranted. However, he didn't tell you why.
All you know is that for the duration of this summer, your brother is going to do everything he can to convince the rest of the Kooks to follow after him.
Dean sighs, approaching you at the far end of the tailgate, crouching down till his face is to your level. "It's simple. Kooks are superficial and flimsy. They are only loyal to the Camerons because they have money. So, we need to shift the tides."
You are not getting in the middle of this.
"We—" you gesture to yourself, then to your brother, "are not doing anything. You are trying to do something with something we don't have a lot of. AKA, money."
While your brother does have a cushy job that pays better than most living in The Cut, and your mother secured herself as a respectable accountant who works with several high-profile Kooks—your family is nowhere at the levels that the Camerons is.
Dean chuckles. He finds it humorous that you're trying to distance yourself from this ongoing rivalry, drawing a line that you would not cross. Though, he knows, you would choose his side if it came down to it. "I know," he agrees with a nod. "But that's not the only way we can even the playing field. We can get power elsewhere."
"You do realize that this is just a meaningless feud between the Kooks and the Pogues, right?" You remind your brother. You know that he's competitive and stubborn; when he sets his mind on something, nothing you can or do can change it. "That it's not going to matter in the long run?"
His jaw locks and it takes several beats before he answers. "It matters to me."
Your older brother pushes himself back up to his height, jumping off the trunk onto the ground, and starts carrying the boxes himself. Without your assistance. You feel like you pushed a button you didn't know existed, and step back timidly.
"Fine, tell me," you announce after a few minutes of unbearable silence, trying to retain Dean's attention. "How are you planning on getting power?"
"No, you don't care."
You grab your brother's arm before he hauls the next case onto the cargo bed. Finally, he turns to you. "But, you care," you rectify, in a small voice, "so that means I care too. What is your genius plan, Lucky?"
Dean lights up at the nickname you used. An inside joke between the two of you. When you were children, you two were obsessed with the film Lilo & Stitch—so much that you had adopted the nicknames as your own. However, for the better part of your childhood, you had a difficult time remembering it was Lilo. You kept calling it Lucky. In turn, you kept calling your brother 'Lucky.'
"Alright." He sets his current case on the tailgate, turning back to give you his full attention. "Y'know how Kook doesn't just party? They do a lot of other shit too. They smoke. They do drugs. They fuck one another on the off-chance that they could gain something from it—a job, an inside scoop, maybe even the life of a housewife."
You raise your brow at his example. "Men can't be the sluts?"
"Can you let me speak?"
You raise both your arms in surrender. He cuts you a playful annoyed look before continuing on his mastermind.
"So, that means, Kooks change loyalty based on whoever has most access to the things they want. The drugs, the alcohol, the parties. Everything. If I can take that away from Rafe, they will shift their loyalty."
You cross your arms, considering his words. "You can't honestly believe that's true. They have more loyalty than that."
"I don't think so," he shakes his head, the firmness in his voice makes you wonder how he's so confident about it. "They're not like Pogues. Loyalty isn't the only thing they have left."
You don't respond. Instead, you remember. You can't shake off the rising guilt in your gut, knowing what happened the other day with Rafe—your brother's enemy—and how your brother still doesn't know. While you don't consider yourself a Pogue anymore, you know you are loyal to one thing.
Dean.
Your family.
This, you are certain.
In that moment, you decided that you need to put some distance between yourself and Rafe. That whatever happened that night was a one-time thing, a flunk in the system, a brief moment of vulnerability.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket again and this time, you pull it out, expecting to see another text from Rafe.
Unknown: come on, don't ignore me
You swallow hard, clenching your phone in your palm. Dean has returned back to lodging his cases onto his trunk, picking up his own routine without you.
"Hey, Dean," you call out, to which your brother hums in response. "Have you talked to... him?"
It takes a moment for your brother to register who you are referring to, and his whole body goes rigid. "No," he says with gritted teeth, not bothering to hide his discontent. "I blocked that bastard months ago."
He glances down at your phone clutched in your hand. "Didn't you?"
You know you should. You know it would be better for you. But, something in you just doesn't allow it to happen. That you wonder, for a moment, if he would ever change and need help. To get back on his feet. To make amends. You couldn't let that happen without you.
"Yeah," you lie, "I was just curious."
—
The party is full of Kooks. You didn't expect this many people to show up, especially knowing that they're supposed to be resenting you and your brother, but somehow you were proven wrong. Perhaps it's because Dean went all-out that drove them, or because Kooks didn't like to miss out on something on their own street, but they're here.
You wonder, for a split moment, if what your brother said has some merit.
The party wasn't just Kooks. He invited the Pogues too. Unlike you, where your friends dropped you upon learning that you were moving to Figure Eight and you didn't care enough to keep in touch—Dean carefully kept in contact with his childhood buddies. Because, at heart, Dean still sees himself as a Pogue.
You didn't care. You took advantage of it. Dressed in your best party outfit—a skirt that barely covered anything, a top with such a large cut that practically revealed your cleavage—and a fuck-it attitude, you descended to the party and have fun.
You drank, danced, and even grind against a couple of guys on the dance floor.
That's when it hits you. Where is Dean? Usually, by the time the second guy got too handsy with you, he would appear out of nowhere to shove the guy off. An overprotective streak that you can't help but roll your eyes to, it's also a measured move that allows you to know when and where your brother is at all times.
Taking the final sip of your drink, the liquor of mixed fruits and vodka slipping down your throat with a burn, you separate from the guy to search for your brother. He wasn't outside, where most of everyone is, lounging around the lit pool; he wasn't on the roof, where Kooks were jumping off the ledge into the water below; he wasn't gone—his truck was still here. When you went inside, you searched the first floor to find him nowhere in sight. That's when you head upstairs. Opening the door to your room, you didn't find Dean.
You find Rafe instead.
"What the hell?" You exclaim, your words slightly slurred as you step into your bedroom and lock the door behind you. Rafe turns around, his previous attention paid to the various frames decorating your walls now pins onto you. "What—what are you doing here?"
"I heard there was a party," he shrugs, his demeanor completely casual while his hands rested inside the pockets of his khaki shorts. "Thought I'd check it out."
"The parties downstairs,"
"Huh," he hums, feigning innocence. "I must've gotten lost."
You aren't satisfied because, despite your intoxicated state, you can clearly see through his lies. Crossing your arms over your chest, you accuse, "thought you gave yourself a house tour the other night?"
"I did," he chuckles, closing the distance. His height towers over your own, and as he meets your gaze, a smirk rises over his face. "I got distracted."
You swallow hard, your heart skipping several beats knowing exactly what he's alluding to. It doesn't help that Rafe carries the same look behind his eyes—the same glint he had when he made you come.
"You know," Rafe begins, trailing down the length of your body, causing heat to bloom under your skin, before meeting your eyes again. "I talked to girls before and none of them has ever made me work as hard as you."
He's referring to the fact that, while you're replying to his texts, after your talk with Dean, they've been mostly monosyllabic answers. One-sided attempts at a conversation. You thought he would take the hint to leave you alone.
Once again, you're wrong.
You cross your arms and challenge him, "Go talk to one of your girls, then."
"Nah."
You don't know if it's the alcohol or his words, but your entire body is buzzing. You should leave, and go back to your search—what were you looking for again?—but something made you stay rooted in your spot. Rafe takes note of your internal battle and takes advantage of it.
Moving even closer, until he's nothing but a breath away, Rafe lowers himself to your level, his mouth right beside your ear. "You know what I can't stop thinking about?"
"How you can't seem to take no for an answer?"
"No," he chuckles, his breath fanning the crook of your exposed neck. "You and your little moans as you called out my name."
Your legs squeeze together, arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach as your mind flashes to the vivid memories of that night. Of Rafe touching you and making you come with the skillfulness of his hands. You can't help but imagine what he could do with his tongue.
Pulling together whatever little restraint you have left, you set a hand on his chest. "Well, cherish it. Because it's not going to happen again."
You're proud of how steady your voice sounds. It's almost believable.
But Rafe doesn't look completely convinced. A cocky smile forms on his face, his eyes diligently scanning your features, picking you apart under his scrutiny.
"You don't believe that."
"I—" You begin, stuttering. Goddammit. "I do. I'm serious."
His hand raises to cup the side of your profile, the pad of his thumb drags across the plump of your bottom lip and they part unconsciously. His smirk broadens.
"Look at you opening up for me. Showing me how much you want me."
You internally groan. He's so infuriating, hot, and obnoxious, that you can't believe you're falling for any of it. You need to do something. Flattening both hands on his firm chest, you give him a light shove, forcing him to release.
Turning, you head for the exit when Rafe captures your wrist, spins you around, and crashes his lips onto yours.
Everything zeros into this moment. All those nightly fantasies of Rafe kissing you finally come to life as he groans against the taste of you. His hand travels to the nape of your neck and holds it tight, using it to steady himself as he presses closer, pulling you in, needing to feel nothing but skin-on-skin.
And you allow it. You don't know if it's because of the vodka mixers you had, or because Rafe is just an incredible kisser, but the way he sucks the plump bottom of your lips draws out a breathy moan, and your skin buzzes with fervent heat. His free hand descends down to grab yours, before placing it against the hard bulge under his pants.
"Do you feel what you do to me, princess?" He murmurs against your vodka-stained lips. "I fucking need you."
Your eyes connect with his, but meet nothing but the pitch-black of his dilated pupils. "You're drunk," you say breathlessly.
His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, leaving tingles in its place, before he confesses, "Not enough."
Then, his mouth meets yours again.
Without breaking for air, Rafe steps forward, causing you to step back. It becomes a two-person dance, and it doesn't end until the back of your heels hits the frame of your bed, tumbling you onto the mattress.
Rafe is immediately on you. Your back flattens against the sheets, your heart thundering, as Rafe parts from the heavy kiss to lay wet ones on the side of your throat, teasingly, nibbling the tender skin until he leaves a mark, before moving down to the valley of your breasts.
Half of you wish you weren't wearing such revealing clothes. The other half wished they were already gone.
Your core aches as Rafe's hands fall between your legs, skimming the short skirt, until he feels the patch of your panties. "You're so gorgeous," he confesses, before chuckling at the slickness collecting on his fingertips, "and wet."
He tells you to lift your hips and you oblige. Removing your skirt, he toss it to the floor, and his eyes zoom into the red pair of panties you decided to wear tonight.
"Did you know red's my favorite color?" Rafe asks. You shake your head softly. "Do you know why?"
"Anger issues?"
He grins, his thumb gently stroking the drenched spot in a way that causes your hips to buck off the bed. But he pins you back down. "It's because it's a good color to fuck to."
"Never knew you were the type of guy to set the mood."
"Didn't need to. You did it all for me."
You open your mouth to retort when his thumb massages your clit in such a sensual manner, a moan rips from you. Rafe watches the way your eyes flutter from the ounce of pleasure, how easily stimulated you are by his touch, and he revels in that feeling.
"You want me," he murmurs, full of confirmation this time, but you don't answer. Rafe watches the way your teeth sink to your bottom lip, embarrassment flushing your face as you refuse to accept it. "Say it."
"You want me," you correct, changing the subject as you arch into his hand.
His fingers stop their magical strokes, and you whine. "No, princess, you want me. I want to hear you say it."
Desperation seeps. Your core aching, pleading for stimulation, and he is right there. You have half a mind to push him off and finish the yourself, voyeurism included. But, you don't. As your eyes connect with him, you breathe out with reluctance, "please make me come."
It isn't exactly what he wanted, but he takes it.
His fingers slip under the band of your panties, pulling them off and discarding them. You thought he would do the same methods as the other night, his fingers finding your sweet spot, but he surprises you when he lowers his mouth and finds your swollen nub.
"Shit," you whisper breathily, his mouth suctioning the clit in a manner that causes your back to arch. Your hands go to find his hair, threading your fingers through his roots as you grind on his face. "That feels so good."
"You taste so fucking good," Rafe growls, the vibration of his words causing your stomach to tighten. When he sees how responsive you are to him, he slips two fingers into your pussy, feeling your walls immediately fluttering around his digits.
He fingers you, as he sucks on your clit. The double stimulation causes your head to spin and your heart to hammer out of your chest, your stomach coils with the familiar pang of pleasure.
"Oh my god, Rafe," you moan, gripping his hair tighter. For a moment, you're afraid of hurting him, but it's quickly dismissed when he flattens his tongue against your slit.
"Say my name louder."
"Rafe."
"Would you do anything I say to come?" Rafe asks, taking the opportunity to get something from you. And you're willing.
"Yes," you whimper, tipping your head back against the bed. "Anything."
"Moan louder for me, baby."
You do.
"Play with your tits."
Your hands push up your top till your breasts are exposed, using a hand to grope the flesh, brushing your fingers through your perked nipples. Groaning from pleasure, it arouses Rafe further, his fingers penetrating deeper and faster into your cunt, while his mouth returns to your clit.
"Oh, god," you moan, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as your pleasure crescendos through your body. Your legs attempt to squeeze close from the sensitivity, to push Rafe out, but with one strong arm, he widens them instead. "Please don't stop."
Rafe doesn't respond but you can feel him grinning into your pussy, flattening his tongue across your slit as your core pulses around his digits. Nothing at this moment could be more perfect, the slow-burning building to your orgasm, the pleasure rippling through your veins.
Nothing can ruin it.
Until you hear your brother calling out your name.
"Shit," you swear, your heart rate spiking through the roof, and a hand slips between your thighs to push Rafe away. But he doesn't move. "Rafe—fuck," a clever roll of his tongue against your heat causes your mind to short-circuit, and you limp back onto the bed as Dean's voice grows louder.
Like he's outside your door.
"Rafe, please," you beg.
"Please what?" Rafe taunts, lifting his head from between your thighs, the lower half of his face dripping with your arousal, while his eyes gleamed that same mischief he had the other night. "Make you come? Or stop?"
You don't know what you want either, and it doesn't help that Rafe continues to stroke your cunt, his thumb rubbing your clit to make up for the absence of his hot mouth. Your legs twitch from the act, again, attempting to close around him, but he pushes them further apart.
Your door rattles. And Dean calls out your name again.
"Are you in there?" He asks, "are you okay?"
No, you want to rasp, but nothing comes out. Rafe grins devilishly, before lowering himself back onto your clit and sucks harder—quickening the arrival to your blinding climax.
"Rafe," you whisper roughly, your mind caught between two forces. The door continues to rattle as Dean tries to force the lock open, a protective trait of him needing to make sure you're okay, while Rafe has you in the most compromising position.
With the worst person.
"Go out with me."
"What?"
You think you heard him wrong, that Rafe definitely isn't asking you out while he's between your legs. But you didn't. Rafe lifts his head and repeats the question once more. "Go out with me."
"I—"
"Come on," Rafe soothes, his fingers fastening their strokes, your walls clenching around him. "Go out with me. Or else, your big brother's gonna come in and see you mid-orgasm."
"W–What do you mean?"
"I know you don't want me to stop," Rafe taunts with a smirk, "And I know your brother probably got some way of getting that door to open. So, you got two choices: either accept my date and come, or your big brother is gonna see me between your legs."
"I—" Your breath shudders as Rafe's signet cool ring presses against your heat. "You're despicable."
"Yet I'm here," Rafe lowers himself back on your clit, sucking languidly as if you don't have a threatening force outside your door, seconds from being let in. Your heart piercing out of your chest. "Come on, princess, go out with me."
Your mind is caught in a tailspin. Half of you want to tell him to fuck off, that you can't believe Rafe is using your moment of weakness to coerce you into a date, but the other part is wrapped in the absolute pleasure of your onslaught orgasm. The white-searing hot power that's coursing down your spine.
"Fuck," you say breathily, eyes fluttering shut from the way Rafe suctions on your clit. "Fuck, fuck, okay, okay. I–I'll go out with you."
You don't see it, but Rafe is grinning between your thighs. He goes faster, harder, pushing you over the edge as you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moans leaving your lips.
And just in that moment, the locks disengages.
With whatever mental capacity you have left, you quickly shove Rafe onto the floor and throw your blanket over your body. Dean barges into the room, blinking out his drunken haze, while his eyes scans the space for any disruptions.
"Did you hear me?" He asks with a subtle slur, scanning your face to see you comfortable in bed. He doesn’t know what got you here. "I've been calling out to you."
Your heart is hammering, and you pray that Dean doesn't approach the bedframe or look on the floor to find any semblance of his enemy hiding out. Rafe, thankfully, doesn't make a sound—though, you’d imagine he's hiding behind a cocky smile at the situation he's in.
"I—" you don't know how to answer him, "I was listening to music. Sorry."
"Oh," Dean says, taking the excuse as acceptable. He glances back at the door. "Why was your door locked?"
"It—it's a party," you explain, surprised at how easy the lie is flying off your tongue. "I didn't want drunk people to stumble up here and have sex on my bed."
"Right, right, smart," Dean nods, and he turns back around. "Alright. I'm going back down. Sleep tight."
You hum back in response as Dean stumbles out of your room, and you finally feel like you can expel a breath. The moment the lock clicks, Rafe lets out a rich laugh, straightening himself into a sitting position as he turns his head and connects his gaze with yours.
"Nice lie."
"Fuck off."
"Can't, you promised me a date," Rafe grins cheekily, pulling himself to his feet while he holds out something in his hand. "I think this belongs to you."
Your panties.
You snatch it from him, heat flushing your face as you want to nothing more than to bury yourself into your sheets. Well, you technically already did. Regardless, Rafe takes one final look around the room, at you, before he says, "I'll text you." And before he leaves, he gives you a sharp look and a reminder, "And actually respond."
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#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks#rafe cameron series
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A/N: Okay I have been playing Genshin for quite some time now, and I'm sure my eyes are hurting like a bitch, but this is a quick idea( and also a short story of a series I'm writing) since I have been reading SAGAU and Creator!Reader works a lot!
Everyone thought, just like Creator!Reader did who played Genshin for hours and built the characters, that Mondstadt would be home. With the jolly people and freedom coursing through the air, and with Venti being the Spirit of Freedom, everyone would listen at least. You were just as terrrified yet also happy and confused as anyone could be, surely they wouldn't execute you, right?
Wrong, so painfully wrong.
Instead Creator!Reader was hunted down blindlessly, who only entered the city with a big smile but left it as soon as possible with a horrified look.
But instead... Razor and Bennett found the Creator!Reader, shivering in the cold with- Was that golden blood?
Razor, since he was raised by wolves, didn't have an exact understanding of the Creator but he listened to his family talk about Them, how they thanked Them with their howls for the food and family and shelter given to them and how they praised the Golden Blood of yours to keep flowing through your very being so that one day, you would come back to Teyvat.
Therefore he knew who you were but Bennett?
Poor boy grew up with the stories of yours! How you created new worlds where there were many different creatures, magic and every kind of ores... Or how you gifted them with many new weaponary and such, how you gave them life and what they have built so far.
How you let them live in peace through their Archon.
So, to see your body covered in Gold blood with a terrified look, their first reaction was to jump up and warm you immediately, patching up any wounds so that their Creator didn't suffer anymore.
But whatever the people must have done to you, had messed you up pretty bad because you, The Creator of All, whimpered in fear and pain, still shaking with your hands up defensively.
"P-Please don't hurt m-me... I swear I didn't mean t-to..."
So, that was how you were coddled up by these two babies while they wondered with rage coursing through them that who did this to you. They weren't stupid, since they were close to their City, they knew it was them and couldn't help but feel shame for their actions. Everyone had been expecting your arrival for quite some time, preparing feasts and what they would say to you in person and then they just...
Blinded by fake religion and ideas, tried to kill you.
How funny Teyvat was more like Earth than you ever imagined?
And they didn't even want to know what would have happened to Teyvat, how angry the Winds and the ground would be at the people for killing the Divine One.
You were still aprehensive as normal, not used to the kindness they were showing you but watching as Razor bring you a very pretty shaped stone with a happy grin and offered it as a token of friendship, you couldn't bring yourself to break his heart as one of the many wolves in his family laid around you protectively.
You asked why he was doing this, when he had no understanding of who you were, when his people were hunting you, but the only answer you got was a confused tilt of his head and a soft spoken,
"You are my lupical and I want you to be happy... They are not my people, they were wrong."
Now Bennett didn't know if he should correct Razor since he was actually talking to their Creator, warn him about not to refer to you so casually, but the big and wide smile on your face as you hugged them thightly to yourself with tears in your eyes which held the stars warmed them both so affectionately and lovingly that they knew you needed this.
You needed to have friends, not worshippers.
And as they, alongside with the Traveller, Klee, Albedo( who was glad he was pulled here by Klee and help you) and Amber who was convinced of who you were by the wounds you had and how you literally breathed life into one of the many burned and ruined forest and was horrified at learning what the Mondstadt did, healed you back and helped you hide, that was when you realized that you did a good job by loving those four and building them up as much as possible.
But those traits weren't the only ones who convinced them. It was how you saw Amber's ambition and praised her for having such a strong dedication to her job to which she bashfully thanked you and cried softly because how kind and generous you were to them even when your life was in danger.
And you didn't forget to tell Lumine to let others deal with commissions and errands, to give herself a rest, with a huge amount of Mora you really didn't know where you got from but was just inside your pouch ( since I chose her and believe the Twins need to hear this) and also about what was going on with her brother and promised to explain more in depth after you were safe to which she held your hand in her warm and calloused ones softly and answered with don't worry about us, Your Grace. Just focus on your life and that's all the gift that you can give to me.
But as much as they loved to have you here and listen to your world and jokes, they also knew you couldn't stay here for much longer. Yes, the forest was big ( and the nature seemed to be hellbent on protecting you) but they knew the Knights wouldn't stop until they got you.
What a surprise that the Crux came to the City, with a frantic Kazuha searching everywhere in the dock for what the Wind whispered to him.
"Our Creator needs help. Help them. Save them."
And that was how you started to wander the streets of Liyue with Kazuha next to you, also hellbent on protecting you especially after seeing the state you were in. The City was literally glowing, and no it wasn't because of the lanterns but you, The Divine Creator who stepped in the City which was raised and built in your name.
He knew there was a famous pharmacy named Bubu Pharmacy and the owner of it was able to heal pretty much every kind of this disease, so he took you there in hopes that the fever you had been suffering from could be solved there.
And it was.
Baizhu, as the usual self-sacrificing man he was, did everything in his power to help you. You knew how his hands were already full with both his own disease and Qiqi who quickly grew on you since she has been playing with you and telling you all about what she learnt about the herbs and the City( she couldn't explain why but she just felt so close to you, as if you were like a parent to her which her caretaker also shared kind of the same love for you) and you were grateful for what they had done to you, how kind they were.
They had shown you the kindness you expected to have when you first arrived, and it wasn't given by other.
Not the most known ones, but the kindest of them all did.
So, as a token, you touched the hand of Baizhu softly one day while he worked to pack you herbs and medicine you might need, stopping him and asking him why he was doing this when he casually( though his heart was beating hard at having you touch hım so softly) replied with a I'm a doctor and you needed help.
You looked at him for some time, then a smile so bright that it made the doctor take a while to stare at you softly overtook your face and you replied You're so strong for carrying such a burden like your disease but still help people, Baizhu.
That was when his suspicions about who you were was proven, since he never told about his disease to anyone (after realizing the golden wounds and how he seemed healthier in your presence) and he immediately went to kneel but was stopped by your gentle hands on his face, rubbing soft circles under his tired yet wide open in shock eyes, his heart almost giving out when your lips touched his forehead softly and blessed hım with your warmth.
Never bow to me, thank you for all you had done for me... Now, let me pay back.
After healing him back and yet once again running away from Liyue so that you weren't hunted down, making the Crux the enemy to Liyue since they were helping you (not that they cared, they loved being pampered by the True God with love, luck and food), a certain sea monster and the eartqueaks of Liyue almost destroyed the whole City for their disrespect so much so that Zhongli had to come back as Rex Lapis and he wasn't even able to stop it until the Wind carried your soft words to Liyue and Osial and made them stop.
Don't punish and destroy them, they don't deserve it...
-- A similar situation happened back in Mondstadt when Dvalin caused chaos after learning what they had done to Divine Creator, roasting the shit out of Venti for his mistake but also was stopped by your gentle caress even from Miles away, to stop hım from harming them. He gave them their lesson anyways, he only needed to find you to protect you as he left the people of Mondstadt in Terror and fear for what they had done.
The "they" in question was obviously the Crux, Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling and Shenhe who showed their love and care for you, who was logical enough to listen to you and see the truth for themselves. Xiangling who made you many delicious food you never ate before, Shenhe who was comforted by you about how she wasn't a cursed child and was loved dearly by everyone and most importantly you as she cried into your chest, who believed in her purpose to fit in with humans even with her tendencies, which you found to be a beautiful part of her...( not me reflecting my Shenhe love here ehe 。◕‿◕。)
Asking "why are you doing this?" had become some kind of a test, like those in fairytales in your world, to see who was kind and sincere and who wasn't.
And you used it in many nations: Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine...
Inazuma was, of course, the WORST so far since Ei was obsessed with Eternity and the Creator, not even listening at all. But even if she didn't, the Kamisato siblings, Kokomi, Gorou, and Thoma believed in you from the very beginning, with many others soon following after them.
Ayaka and Kokomi were the first ones, with Ayaka seeing the sadness in your eyes at how restricted you were, how no one seemed to believe in you and how Inazuma seemed calmer and more happy as soon as you arrived( and how you reassured her to be herself and not live according to what people would say which made her love you and convince her brother to listen, who was glad she did if not... Well, he didn't want to imagine it.) and Kokomi hearing the whispers of the ocean who was the happiest, who cheered for you and didn't stop chanting your name, which lead her to see it for herself and welcome you to Watatsumi Island as the God she worshipped. Who was also praised by you for her smartness and how she worked hard for the Island even if her career plan wasn't this, but was warned to not to overwork which she blushed at and assured Creator!Reader.
Not surprisingly enough, Sumeru was the kindest to you since Nahida knew who you were even before coming to her nation and greeted you herself excitedly, showing you around as her people( Yes, even Tighnari and Al-Haitham who was known to be stern) smiled and offered you a new home.
Fontaine was probably the happiest you had been, after Sumeru, to stay. Furina, as much as she didn't believe in herself, saw right through you and knew who you were, providing you with utmost care and protection ever alonsgide Neuvillette who always hang around you, protected you and even became your friend! Maybe it was the dragon instincts in him, once the closest to you like Zhongli but also one who wasn't blinded like him, as he stayed with you when your fears and nightmares became too much to bear.
Who knew, maybe something more would happen?
And after all the nations realized their mistake, after you defeated Celestia and came to a peace with It, and restored Khaenri'ah who always believed in you from the beginning even years ago, they feared the punishment waiting for them. They didn't want to accept their mistake, blame Celestia for all of it... But they also knew they were blinded by hard and unlogical belief and almost did the most unforgivable sin ever.
They were ready for any punishment from you, even if it included never seeing you again...
But the only answer to their question was a letter written by you, which made them shiver.
The only reason none of the nations who wronged me are not punished severely was because of the names listed below. Shall any harm come to them, your nation would see the true wrath of the Creator.
Thank you to Razor, Bennet, Amber, Klee, Albedo and dear Traveller from Mondstadt.
Thank you to Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling, Shenhe, the Crux, Beidou and Kazuha from Liyue
Thank you to Kamisato Ayato and Kamisato Ayaka, Thoma, Gorou, Kokomi from Inazuma.
Thank you to Sumeru, Khaenri'ah, Fontaine and Natlan people for their never ending kindness and belief.
Eternal gratitude and blessings from the Creator, who you helped to gain confidence and power...
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact imagines#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin imagine#genshin impact sagau#genshin sagau#genshin impact creator!reader#genshin impact creator au#zhongli x reader#zhongli x you#baizhu x reader#baizhu x you#shenhe x reader#beidou x reader#kazuha x reader#razor x reader#bennett x reader#amber x reader#amber x y/n#albedo x reader#albedo x you#lumine x reader#lumine imagine#aether x reader#aether x you#ayato x reader#ayaka x reader
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678-999-8212.
Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)
A/N: part two for my last fic!! ermmmm once again ily if you know the title's reference :3 this is a short addition too but idk i don't think part one required a super long part two! please read the tags, leon is mean in this one :c
Part One: here
Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (21-50s), degradation, choking, hate-sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, non-con, striking/smacking of the face, alcohol mention
Wordcount: 1k
Leon had never driven this fast before. To hell with every red light in his way, he needed to get home. Foot sat firmly on the gas pedal, inching further and faster the more he thought about the series of events that led him here.
His daughter was an absolute slut. How many men had you 'entertained' like that before? How many filthy calls had you made to men who were possibly even older than himself? More than that— how had he fallen into your trap?
He made a silent promise to himself to put the bottle down, seeing as it left him in that situation. A promise that was an empty one, but it offered him solace in the moment as he pulled into his driveway.
Leon's feet struggled against the pavement. He was still unbearably drunk and dizzy, now with added anger and unfounded horniness. He felt gross, disgusted by the erection popping in his slacks, but he couldn't help it. He was fathering a damn siren, and god did you know what you were doing. Your sickening voice, overly sweet moans, and your slick and noisy cunt that cried for him over the phone. It was all too much.
"You fucking slut!"
Leon had never been a rough dad. He wasn't a yeller, not one for heavy discipline. After his unfortunate discovery about you, though? He was quick to slam the front door shut and run up the stairs, feet clashing against each step with a violent speed.
Whatever you had been watching on your television was quickly shut off when you heard his tone. You scampered under your blankets and feigned sleep. You had zero clue what he was on about, but you knew it would turn ugly just by the sheer anger in his voice. He couldn't yell at a sleeping beauty like you, could he?
Yes, obviously he could and would. Stubborn old man.
"I know you aren't asleep," Leon spat, ripping the covers off of you. You stayed still, breath pausing in your chest. "Don't act innocent, brat."
Fine, so there was no escaping this. Damn it, what was this all about?
You begrudgingly relented and opened your eyes. Arms crossed defensively over your chest, an equal mix of fear and discomfort on your face as you scanned over your dad.
You took in everything about him. His eyebrows were drawn together. His jaw was clenched tight enough that you thought it could pop at any minute. Fists balled up at his sides. Eyes dark. Dick hard— oh. Oh?
"You wanna tell me what you were doing earlier? Any specific calls y'made?"
"Say it."
You had never heard your father speak so roughly, and anything close to the tone he used was never directed towards you. You were his sweet girl, daddy's baby forever. Now, though, each slam of his hips into yours made you feel like a cheap whore.
"It's not true," you said. "I'm not a slut! I'm not, I promise."
You felt his large hand's grip over your neck tighten. Tears were threatening to spill, to run down your red, stinging cheek where the mark of his hand was freshly placed. You held it in. Daddy told you not to cry, that you had no right to.
"Was just a mistake. I'm sorry!"
"Yeah, real convincing." Leon sneered down at you. It stung more than the unrelenting thrusts, more than the way his palm met your cheek. He never looked at you like that, like you were nothing. You wanted it to stop. "I didn't raise you to be a whore. You think you're fuckin' grown, huh? Showing off for whoever rings you up like some call-center bitch?"
You wanted to kick and cry, but the words stopped in your chest. Shameful wails sprouted from you. It was all true, every word he said.
"I just wanted attention," you were finally able to make out, despite the ever firmness of his hand around your throat. "I'm sorry, I'll never do it again. Promise."
Deep down, Leon felt awful for treating you like this. He tried to reason with himself. You needed to learn. How could you learn from a 'mistake,' as you called it, without a proper punishment? He was doing the right thing. He was sure of it. He couldn't have a whore-daughter, at least not such a shameless one.
"Yeah? How's it feel now? You're getting all the attention you want now. Not enough for you, greedy bitch?"
Thankfully for you, he released you from the chokehold he had you in. He internally winced at the already forming bruise he left. His hands found your lower stomach and he pushed down. Hard.
"There you go. Feel every bit of my cock."
God, he was so mean. His head knocked into your cervix roughly, no regard for your pleasure. It hurt, but the friction of his girthy cock dragging against your abused walls helped a little.
Small flutters of pleasure peaked through the rough treatment, making it semi-worth it. Maybe if you came, if you focused real hard on getting over the edge, then maybe you could forget his awful words.
He wasn't nearly that nice, though. He kept grumbling under his breath, spitting out vile insults about you. Even as his voice cracked, he couldn't help but let his hips stutter forwards into you, whispering the harshest things.
With a final, especially rough thrust, he came. He didn't bother to pull out, he didn't even try. Rather, he burrowed further into your sore walls and marked you with his seed, claiming you like the territory you were.
As you tried to pull away, feeling utterly used and unsatisfied, you felt his strong arms yank you back.
"Where do you think you're going?"
His face softened a little. Good, at least he wasn't scowling at you any more.
"We aren't done...?"
"Not even close." He pushed your legs back, resting them over his shoulders. "Whores don't get breaks. We aren't done until I'm good and fucking satisfied."
He leaned down, dipping his head so he could spit. He watched the dribble of saliva coat your hole.
"If you aren't gonna be my good girl anymore, the least you could do is put out."
#tw inc*st#cw incest#rough kink#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil#leon kennedy imagine#dad x daughter#x reader#smut#dead dove do not eat
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Easy | Felix | Easy to Expert (1)
Lee Yongbok (Felix - Stray Kιds)
Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~5k
Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Biting, One Singular Spank, He Gets a Bit Rough, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Don't do what they do.)
Summary: In which you can't normally get off and Felix doesn't like this one bit.
Author's Note: Imagine trying to write something like this with a straight face because you are at your uncle's house in the living room with everyone else there and you can't go anywhere else...
Also your friend's name is Yuna here and she's not a reference to any idol or anything, this was just the name that came to mind.
-> Series Hub <-
-> Part 2 <-
I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!
"He had the stamina of a work horse; I thought I was going to die."
"Really?" You weren't convinced.
"No, seriously. I had never came that many times in one session." Your friend shook her head and you blinked. You watched her take a swig of beer and you took another bite of chicken.
"You started without us?" Someone whined behind you, and you turned to see Jisung and Minho coming up to your table. The younger man pouted as he sat down in the empty chair next to you while Minho sat on his other side.
"You guys are half an hour late." Yuna sneered at them, waving a drumstick aggressively.
"Where's everyone else?" you asked.
"Seungmin can't make it, Jeongin is sick. Chan and Changbin are on their way from the studio. Felix and Hyunjin just left campus after dance practice." Minho listed off, waving his hand up to get the auntie's attention to get beer.
"Is Jinnie going to shower first? Poor thing looks like he fell in a pond after dance practice." Yuna bounced a bit as she talked since the waitress brought over the order of Tteokbokki you had ordered.
"That's why they're late." Jisung spoke around a mouthful.
"Anyway, he ended up breaking up with me because I apparently wasn't enough for his libido." Yuna continued her story despite the fact two of the boys had arrived and Chan and Changbin were arriving.
"Woah, what?" Chan laughed setting his bag down next to her and the other man sat across from Minho.
"Is this the same guy who said he wished he had two dicks to fuck twice as much?" Changbin asked as you watched his shirt tighten over his chest as he took his jacket off. Everything he wore was so tight…You were taken out of your zone-out when he scoffed, "My eyes are up here (Y/N)." Everyone laughed at you and your face tingled a bit, you took a sip of beer not meeting his eyes.
"Wait, what?" Chan asked again and Yuna rolled her eyes.
"Yeah. I think he was possessed by a sex demon or something, geez."
"Who are we talking about?" The oldest man asked. Yuna then recapped everything she had told you to Chan who stared blankly at her the whole time.
"Okay, way more than I ever needed to know." He shook his head and grabbed his chopsticks.
"You don't even know the half of it." Changbin huffed and the other girl gasped dramatically.
"You asked me to tell you most of it!"
"Not everything! I really didn't care about who you did everything with first, that was a long ass list."
"A list of asses?" Minho seemed to tune in at a very specific time.
"Do I want to know?" A new voice groaned as Hyunjin sat at the end of the table. Felix came around to the other end near you and took a seat.
"Yuna is sharing WAY too much again." Jisung's eyes got big to emphasize his point.
"Well, this started because (Y/N)-"
"NO!" You almost leaped across the table to shut her up. That unfortunately made the boys all the more curious and it was getting steadily louder as they urged you to share. If not but to spare the rest of the patrons and workers, you finally relented.
"I just told her that I didn't see too much point in rushing into sex in a relationship because I don't get much out of it." You didn't look at anyone, just cast a glare at Yuna, then back at your beer bottle.
"Well, you need to find someone else then." Minho told you matter-of-factly.
"It doesn’t matter, and it's not like partners haven't tried…I just can't…I-I can't finish…" You mumbled the last part, and it went deathly silent. You could feel the eyes on you but for some reason, the ones to your left were burning. Glancing up to meet Felix's stare, you're startled by his expression. He looked…intense. You shifted under his gaze. He knew you liked him, and you knew he liked you, but not much had come of it. You two kissed briefly a few weeks ago but it was interrupted, and it hadn’t happened since.
"Wait, seriously? Have you ever?" Chan asked, he had stopped eating. This was serious to him.
"Yeah, but it took forever. I had to do it myself and it wasn't easy." You shrugged. Because of this fact you hadn't had very many sexual encounters or partners. It’s just frustrating when nothing ever came of it.
"So that's when I told her that my last boyfriend might be able to do it since he got me off like six times at once." Yuna explained as she shoved more food in her mouth.
"Did you ex ever do it?" Jisung asked and you nodded.
"Once." That wasn't why you had broken up; he had moved away for work and long distance didn't work too well so you drifted apart.
"Have I ever told you guys about my college roommate's girlfriend?" Hyunjin cut in and quickly everyone was diverted over to his story of the fact that this girl was not loyal by any means. And neither was her boyfriend. Unfortunately for Hyunjin, he was both of their type and he ended up having to switch rooms. The night continued and as more food was eaten, more alcohol was consumed. The rowdiness became too much, and you were more or less kicked out. Yuna was drunk and Changbin promised to get her home in one piece, so he left with her on his back. Chan, Jisung, and Hyunjin followed suit since they all were going to the same place, and you were left with Minho and Felix.
"I'll walk her home. Go check on Jeongin, he might be asleep already but he's not texting back." Felix told the older man who nodded and said goodbye so you two were left alone. You had only one beer that night and Felix didn't even finish his, so you were not even tipsy.
"I-I can get home okay, I didn't drink much." You tried to wave him off.
"It’s okay. Just because you're sober doesn't mean I should let you go alone." He smiled softly and you internally gushed over how pretty he was.
"Thanks." Beginning to head in the opposite direction of everyone else, you two walked in silence for most of the time, but it was companionable. In your head you just kept replaying the small kiss from a few weeks before, not really sure why you were looping on it. When you got to your building, you expected him to leave you at the door, but he opened the door for you and led you toward the elevator.
"D-Do you want to come in? I have some cheesecake left that I can't finish on my own…" You couldn't meet his gaze as you waited for the elevator.
"Sure, thanks." His deep voice was so warming, and you wondered what it would sound like whispering in your ear. You shook your head to clear the thought and got in the lift to get to your floor. Keying in your pin code, the door chimed, and you let him into your apartment. You lived alone and so your place had some clutter about. You hung your coat and bag up, changed to slippers, then moved to clear the papers and pens off the couch. After moving the stuff into a more organized pile on the coffee table, you stood and turned to go to the kitchen, but instead ran into Felix's chest. He was wearing a grey turtleneck that was way tighter than you though it would be on him. His sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows and his hand moved to steady you when you stumbled in surprise at his proximity. Compared to other men, he wasn't very tall, but he was still quite a bit taller than you. When the hands that steadied you moved from your arms to your waist, you were pulled to him even closer. Your breath hitched and your hands instinctually gripped the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders. When your eyes met, he leaned in and as his lips hovered over yours, his deep voice rumbled through you.
"Can I?"
"Y-yes." Your hands moved to rest closer to his neck and he kissed you. This one was different than before. Last time was chaste and soft, but this was growing heated fast. Felix tilted his head more and licked at your bottom lip prompting you to open your mouth. You moaned softly as his tongue invaded your mouth and when he groaned back it was like thunder shook you. Reluctantly, you let him pull away so you both could take a breather.
"Was what you said true? You really can't cum?"
"M-most of the time." It was embarrassing to talk about it in front of everyone, but for some reason it seemed like Felix took it personally.
"Hm. If you let me, I might be able to help." He leaned down some to say this right into your ear, then he sucked on your ear lobe. You shuddered and tilted your head to let him get better access to your neck. He laid searing kisses along your skin, and you swallowed hard.
"O-okay." You were a bit reluctant since it hadn't worked well before. At the same time, he was turning you on way faster than anyone or anything else before. You were not blind, or deaf, he was incredibly attractive, and you would be stupid to say no. Felix's lips pulled into a smile against your throat and he sucked on that spot hard, his teeth digging in slightly. You moaned louder than you meant to, and he could feel your throat vibrate as you did. Not realizing he could pull you closer, when he did you felt him hard against your stomach. His lips moved from your neck, which now had at least three bruises on it, back to your mouth and he dominated the kiss, taking complete control. Finally, to gain more oxygen, he pulled away from you and your head was swimming. He could sense that you were dazed, so he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, carrying you to your room. Setting you down at the end of your bed, he kneeled before you, the look on his face shocked you. You were expecting a fire there, lust, but it was so warm and soft, and you weren't sure how to react.
"I'm doing this because I like you so much. I hate that no one's made you feel good like you deserve. But at the same time…" The hand on your waist dug into your flesh and his expression sharpened, "I want to be able to say I'm the only one that can say he did. Easy." His confession made your walls clench around nothing.
"Will you let me?" Felix asked.
"Of…of course. I like you too-" He cut you off with another devouring kiss and his hands wandered under your sweater and helped you take it off. If you had known this was going to happen, you wouldn't have worn such a plain set of underwear. As the make-out session continued he also removed your socks and pants and he finally pulled back to take his own clothes off. You watched with rapt attention as his turtleneck came off, and…damn. Felix was way more ripped than you thought he would be. Not quite to the level of Chan or Changbin…You were even more enthralled as he took his belt off and undid his jeans to let them fall. His hard cock was straining against the black fabric of his tight briefs, but he left them on as he kneeled before you again. He stood as high as he could on his knees, making him eye level with you.
"Can I?" He reached around your back, and you nodded so he could unhook your plain nude bra. As he took it off, he gently bumped his forehead against yours and flashed a smile.
"You're so pretty." He cooed and you huffed, looking away in embarrassment.
"That's the pot calling the kettle black." You mumbled and he giggled. Felix laid a soft kiss on your lips then began to move down. To your neck, collarbone, sternum, then down your right breast where he latched his mouth around your nipple. You exhaled and let him do what he wanted. He didn't garner much of a reaction, but it felt better than it normally did. He hummed in thought and then he laved his tongue around the peak of your breast, then his teeth slightly dug in, and you gasped. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile, and he sucked hard on your nipple again and your skin tingled. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and he pulled away with a pop and moved to do the same to the other side. Your breathing was getting a bit heavier and as he pulled away from your chest, he pressed his hand on your sternum, telling you to lay back. You did so and as you did; he straight up bit your left breast on the swell of the flesh. This pulled a surprised moan from you, and he smirked, pulling back.
"You left a mark!" You scoffed and he laughed, "You're going to end up with a lot more, love." You gaped at him and before you could answer, his mouth was back on you, kissing over your ribs. You sighed and he moved down to your belly button, then licked a path up to under your breasts. His actions heated your skin, and he moved back down to the waistband of your panties.
"You okay with this?" His fingers had slipped under the fabric to run along your butt, his face close to your covered pussy. He could smell your arousal already and couldn't wait to bury his tongue inside you.
"Yes. How about I tell you if I'm not and you just do whatever you want." You finally told him. You loved that he asked and made sure, but you just wanted him to keep going.
"Whatever I want?" He whispered to himself, and his intense gaze met yours.
"Are you sure, love?"
"Y-yes." You felt like a small furry creature about to be devoured by a tiger.
"Hm." He smirked and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, dragging you to the end of the bed. Felix pressed his face into your covered cunt and licked at your clit through the fabric. You twitched a bit, but not enough for his liking. He clicked his tongue and instead of pulling your panties off, he tore them off. The side hem was fraying a bit and it allowed him to rip the fabric and he tossed the remnant away. You would have complained if it was a nicer pair. The display of strength was incredibly attractive. Once again, Felix's hands gripped your ass, hauling you closer and immediately shoved his tongue into your cunt. You exhaled harshly, laying back. It was if he was a man lost in the desert and you an oasis. He was practically drinking from you, devouring you. His nose bumped your clit as his tongue reached as deep as he could get it. You grunted slightly, surprised at how good it felt. He noticed that every time the tip of his nose hit your button that you flinched very slightly. Removing his face from between your legs for a moment, he took his thumbs and spread you open, and you squealed. It was embarrassing, but you didn't say anything, so he kept going, smirking as you covered your face. Licking another stripe from your core to your clit, he sealed his lips around the little bud and sucked as hard as he could. Your hips jumped slightly, and your breathing picked up, but it wasn't enough yet. Furrowing his brow, he pulled back again, tipping his head. If he wasn't doing what he was it would have been rather cute. He had one more trick up his sleeve. He took his thumb once again and rubbed a circle over your clit to see how you reacted. Glancing up he pushed harder against it to fully expose it, then he leaned forward to suck again. It was a stronger feeling than before and it made your hips jump again but then he did something unexpected, he placed your clit between his teeth and bit down a bit.
"Fuck!" You twitched hard, he wrapped his arm around your hips to hold them down, then he sucked again and gave another little nibble.
"F-Felix-" You gasped, and you were getting close. It was a different feeling than even the few times before. As he abused your poor little clit, he quickly inserted two fingers in your rapidly wetting cunt. This made you gasp again, and he could feel how tight you would be, but he was figuring out you needed a little bit of pain. Once more, he nibbled down, and at the same time he crooked his fingers up hard against your sweet spot and you fell apart. You saw white, you had never felt anything to that extent before. You had slammed your hand over your mouth, but he could still hear you nearly scream out a moan and he smiled cockily; your pussy walls clenched hard around his fingers and cum spurted out of your cunt. He held your hips down, feeling the muscles twitch and spasm. It seemed like it lasted forever and when you finally came down, you were panting hard. He kneeled straighter, pulling his fingers out of you, and noted that you had draped your arm over your eyes, and he couldn't tell if there were tears or sweat flowing down your cheeks. As he stood, Felix licked his fingers clean, and he kneeled over you some and pried your arm from your face. You looked dazed, and he still couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.
"You did so good, love." He stroked the hairs back that were stuck to your forehead.
"How the actual fuck did you do that?" You gaped and he guffawed.
"It seems you like it to hurt a bit?"
"Hurt? It didn’t?" You seemed genuinely confused. Were you really that insensitive? With how tight your cunt was around his fingers he thought for sure it would have stung a bit. Most of the time getting bit somewhere that tender would hurt some even if it felt good.
"Interesting…" He thought for a second then looked back down at you.
"Do you wanna keep going?" Felix brushed a drop of the moisture from your cheek and you glanced at him.
"Why wouldn't I?" He huffed at that.
"You look like you just ran a marathon."
"Felix, if you can make me come, I'm going to let you do it as many times as possible." You deadpanned and his shocked expression softened, and he hummed. He bent over and kissed your forehead gently. His hand grabbed yours and he brought your knuckles to his lips so he could press another kiss there.
"(Y/N), I just want you to know, that I really like you, and I want to just hold you and love you all night." He admitted and your heart began to thud.
"But I think what you need is to be fucked senseless." His voice deepened even further, and his gaze sharpened. Your heart raced even more, and it seemed he was waiting for permission.
"Oh, god, please." You said quickly and he chuckled.
"Scoot up." He kissed your hand once more then let go and he got off the bed, letting you do as he requested. He went and turned your lamp on and shut the big overhead light off. He came over as you pulled your nightstand drawer open to make sure you did have condoms and that they weren't expired.
"What's this?" He had stopped next to you as you grabbed the box and his hand reached in a grabbed something else.
"Oh, uh-" Before you could answer he opened the box. He knew what it was before he asked. Inside there was a series of sex toys and it seemed none of them could do the trick. Bullet vibrator, one looked like a rose with suction, there was a rabbit vibrator, but the one that shocked him the most was the butt plug. It vibrated too and the plastic still hadn't been taken off of the box.
"Woah." He teased, pulling it out and you groaned.
"Haven't tried it?"
"I…Nothing else worked so I figured it was worth a try but I got nervous…"
"Hmm." He was thinking something, and you weren't sure you liked the look on his face.
"Another time." He shook his head and dropped it back in the box and put it in the drawer again and took the condom box from you.
"Hm." He hummed again and you shot him a look.
"What?"
"Have you tried anything with like ribbing or whatever?"
"Yes…didn't do jack. Even did the ones with like warming lube and stuff."
"…I have an idea but only if you're okay with it?"
"What?"
"I know it’s good to be double sure, but you're on the pill, yeah?"
"Yes."
"It seems you have trouble feeling stuff there, you would probably feel more without this." He rattled the box. He had a point, the only reason you used both was for security.
"We can get the morning after thing if you want-"
"That's fine." He seemed to know what he was doing, and you weren't overly worried about it.
"You sure?"
"Yes, Felix." You assured and he nodded, dropping the box back into the drawer, "They're the wrong size anyway." He muttered that to himself, but you caught it. Closing the drawer, he crawled back onto the bed and kneeled at your feet, then cast you a look. You nodded and he pulled your knees apart and for some reason it was still embarrassing even though his tongue had literally been inside you. You were neither a virgin nor a prude, but for some reason, since it was Felix, it felt different.
"Relax, love." He smiled, pressing his lips to yours again and his tongue slipped into your mouth. You whined when he pulled back and he chuckled, then maneuvered and removed his underwear and threw them somewhere.
"Fuck." You whined and you wanted him in your mouth.
"This is about you, love, not me." He pinched your nose, able to tell what you were thinking from the expression on your face.
"Fine." You pouted and his fingers went back to your cunt and gathered the wetness there and you watched as he stroked himself to get ready. What the fuck was he fed that despite his small size his cock was that big? Whatever it was also probably made his voice as deep as it was as well.
"Ready? I'm going to be rough with you." He warned, his sharp gaze rehardened, the softness still there underneath.
"Please." You let him just grab you, he spread your legs open wide, a slight burn in your hamstrings. There was very little time between the head of his cock meeting your cunt and him burying all the way to the hilt. It took your breath away and he grunted at how tight your hot core felt around him. He had honestly never had sex without a condom before either. After being inside your wet heat with no barrier, he didn't think he could ever do anything but, especially since he planned on being with you longer than he consciously realized. You were shivering at the sensation, his hot flesh searing through you, spreading you open so much so instantly. It stung some but it felt better than any other time and you weren't sure if it was because he was fucking you raw or that he was that big. You didn't even want to know how much bigger Chan supposedly was. He contemplated letting you get used to him, but Felix was losing control fast, and it seemed like you liked it rough. His hands on your thighs spreading them open gripped the flesh, easily swinging your legs up so he folded you in half, your knees at your ears.
"Hold on, love." Using his dancing skills, he snapped his hips as hard as he could, and your next orgasm hit you. If you whited out before, you practically blacked out that time. It was like water rushed over your head, your rapid pulse thudding in your ears, your blood audibly racing. He grunted and you could barely hear it through the ringing in your ears and he dug his fingers hard into the flesh of your thighs to hold back his own orgasm. Your walls were hugging his cock so tight, and you were practically gushing around him. He hoped that he had pulled some kind of seal off of you, and that he could get you to fall apart over and over and over. He wanted to be the one that could say he fucked you stupid and that no one could ever finish you simply because they weren't him. His ego shot through the roof, and he wanted to ruin you. When he first thought of going through with this, the plan was to show you how much he loved you, what you meant to him. But he had no idea what you liked and what would finally get you off. If you needed rough, he would do it. Looping his thoughts to keep distracted from the vice of your cunt, he finally felt you relax, and you nearly went boneless, your legs in his grip losing all strength. You were heaving for air again, not sure which way was up or down, how old you were, or even your own name. All you could think of was Felix.
"No!" You yiped as he pulled out, but he rolled you over onto your stomach, hauled your hips up, your face buried in the pillow and he buried his cock back into your needy pussy, making you white knuckled the sheets. He began a truly relentless pace, and it was the best thing anyone had ever done to you.
"You like my cock, love?"
"Fuck, yes!" You managed to get out, each thrust made you silently scream, forming words became nearly impossible. Maybe the fact that he got you to orgasm allowed you to be more sensitive; then maybe because you had tried for so hard for so long with no success, your body could finally let go. Felix had the key to not only your heart, it seemed, but your cunt as well.
Leaning forward, he gripped the frame of your bed for leverage and kept his thrusts just as hard but extremely shallow. The fat head of his cock beat against your back walls so hard that you were sure they would forever be molded to only him. You felt another climax rising and your own hands scrambled to grip the wooden rods of your bed frame as well.
"F-Felix!" You managed to get out and you watched one of his hands leave the frame above you, and he smacked your right ass cheek and upper thigh hard, and you fell over the edge again. This time, he couldn't hold back either, and he fucked as deep into you as he could and filled your womb with his cum. That sensation made your climax flare to max again even though it had begun to dissipate, and your fluttering canal helped him ride out his own orgasm. You thanked the Lord birth control existed because you never wanted him to cum anywhere but inside after that. As you both caught your breath, he slowly pulled out of you and the adrenaline left you and now you were sore. Your clit, your pussy, where he had smacked you, everything. You didn't think you would be able to walk tomorrow. When he had fully withdrew, your hips slumped down and you flopped flat onto the bed, not able to move.
"Hold on, love." He leaned over you and kissed your hot cheek, covered in tears from the intensity of what he just reeked on you. You felt him wipe your used cunt off with a towel and you whined when he moved you to pull the blanket out from under you. He made a note to remove the comforter before fucking you on the bed again, because he sure was planning on doing it again.
"You're fine, pretty girl." He chuckled and crawled into bed with you. He shut the lamp off and the room was cast in shadow before your eyes got used to the dull light of the streetlights behind the curtain. Getting settled, he saw you had laid on your side already, the only way you could fall asleep. Smiling he curled around you, wiggling his arm under your head and wrapped his other around your middle. He rested his hand on your tummy, holding you close. He had to be careful, your cute little butt pressed against his now-covered groin was enough on its own to get him riled back up. The arm under your head bent so his hand could rest on your forehead, and he kissed the back of your head.
"Goodnight, love." Felix hugged you as close as possible, loving being your big spoon.
"I won’t be able to walk tomorrow." You mumbled and buried his nose in your hair and smiled smugly.
"If you can I won’t have done my job right."
"Thank you, 'Lix."
"Of course, sweet." Another kiss to your head.
"Go to sleep. I'll take care of you tomorrow. And every day after that you'll have me." His deep but quiet voice rumbled next to your ear, and you linked your fingers with his on the hand on your stomach.
"I'll have you always, Felix."
"Good, because you're stuck with me now."
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From people you know, to people you don't
𝝙 Boyfriend!Yunho 𝝙
∞ Author: bvidzsoo
∞ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader
∞ Warning: cursing, blood, manhandling ∞ Word count: 3.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, lovers to exes to acquittances!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Yunho wasn't the same man you had once known. What he had turned into, you didn't know. But you did know one thing, you'd do anything to keep your daughter safe and away from him.
∞ A/N: Hello...we don't speak of this. I know I'm supposed to be writing my thesis and Love Me Like A Rockstar (and Beyond The Obscure), but my mind had been plagued with short drabbles for all of our boys so...yeah, I'm writing a mafia drabble for all of them, it seems like it:) Yunho is the first one to start off this new mini-series, and the next members will be posted randomly. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated, I hope you enjoy!
𝝙 Listen to this before or while reading! ^^
∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥ Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥
It hadn’t always been like this. Yunho hadn’t always been like this. Five years ago when we had met, he was a sweetheart. He was attentive and the kindest man I have ever known, so loving and a safe place. He bought me flowers every third day and took us out on dates every Friday, all throughout those two years that we had been together for. But then…somehow the cracks in his character started showing. His smiles became less genuine and his once protective hold became possessive and painful. There was something about his eyes that didn’t hold any warmth anymore, just scary, icy coldness that kept you rooted to your spot, shaking and praying to a God that he wouldn’t pounce on you and do only God knows what to you. He became a predator ready to hunt his prey…even if his prey was me. The woman he had once claimed to love furiously and ardently, an emotion now turned into constant anger and hatred whenever he looked in my direction.
I have never truly understood what I have done wrong, but after a while, I stopped trying to understand. I stopped trying to decipher who Jeong Yunho truly was, and why he was the way he was. I stopped trying to make it work between us when I found out that a fragile life was growing inside of me. I wasn’t ready to become a mother at the fragile age of twenty-four, but I wasn’t capable of letting the baby go no matter how hard I tried to convince myself. Despite our quickly deteriorating relationship, that baby had been conceived with love, and I knew deep down Yunho was a good man, he had just lost his way in life. And I was scared of him and of whatever he was capable of after that fated night.
A storm was raging outside, lightning illuminating the night sky every few minutes, thunder shaking the ground. I had a bad feeling, a really bad one, as I gripped my warm mug tightly in my hands, staring out the window. Yunho was supposed to be home by now, hours ago, actually, but he wasn’t. And he wasn’t answering my calls nor my texts. A tightness seemed to grip at my throat, prohibiting me from drinking any tea furthermore. The crash of the front door made me jump out of my skin, heart racing as I hurried to the hallway, stopping in my tracks at the sight of my boyfriend. Except that he looked nothing like my boyfriend. Dripping wet from head to toe, black hair falling in his cold eyes menacingly, panting through his open mouth, something red tainting his white t-shirt and seemingly dripping down his forearm. The right sleeve of his leather jacket had been sliced open and I could see a red wound peeking through angrily. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to make sense of the situation, hands slightly trembling as Yunho’s eyes slowly drifted upwards, settling on my form. I had planned on telling him tonight that I was pregnant, that we were expecting a baby, but I wasn’t so enthusiastic about it anymore. I was…scared of the man standing in our hallway, in our, once, safe home.
“Yunho,” I whispered, trying to mask the fear in my voice, “what happened to you?”
Yunho said nothing as he kicked his shoes off, my body stiffening as I finally noticed what he held in his left hand. A knife. A knife coated in red. A bloody knife. My heart started racing as Yunho’s eyes never left my form as he advanced towards me, unknowingly backing me against the living room’s closed door, making me gasp. He smelled…like smoke and like iron, like blood. What had he done? Who was this man standing in front of me?
“I had to take care of some business.” My once beloved boyfriend’s voice was deep, eyes dead as he looked me all over the face, his jaw clenching, “Business you fucked up, apparently.”
“M—me?” I stuttered, avoiding eye contact when Yunho’s eyes sharply found mine. He chuckled, but it wasn’t amused, it sounded sarcastic and irritated.
“Yeah, you.” He hissed, closing the gap between our bodies, reflexively making me hold onto my tummy. I was too early on in the pregnancy to show, yet I was already oh so protective of my little fragile baby, “And it’s the last time this happens, understood?”
“I—I don’t understand—” I stilled when Yunho’s large palm caressed my cheek, just a remnant of how he once used to do it, “I don’t understand what I had done.”
“Of course, you don’t,” Yunho chuckled, sneering, “you are too dumb to understand. How about you change workplaces?”
“What?” I muttered confused, flinching when he gripped my jaw tightly, yanking me forward, “Why?”
“I wouldn’t want the police tracing back anything to me, you know?” Yunho mused, the look on his face anything like him. He looked almost crazed, he looked dangerous.
“Did you kill someone?” My voice was barely above a whisper as we stared into each other’s eyes, my heart almost beating out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe as Yunho remained silent, a small smile stretching onto his lips as if I had said something funny. But instead of an answer, he just pressed his damp lips against mine, almost making me jerk away from him. But he held me in a vice like grip and the door behind me stopped me from going anywhere. When I didn’t kiss back, he bit my bottom lip and forced my lips apart, pinning me against the door as his tongue slipped inside my mouth, bringing tears to my eyes.
Yunho wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with anymore. He was someone else, someone that resembled the devil and was capable of anything. And so I had realized I had to save myself and our baby before it was too late for the two of us, before Yunho did something horrible to us.
And after that night, I ran away without even as much as glancing back, without having any regrets. I was scared that he’d try to find me, but he never reached out. I left a note on the fridge, in the kitchen, saying that I couldn’t do this anymore and that I was breaking up with him, starting anew. I moved towns, somewhere far away from him, to a city that was filled with life and so many people that even if he looked in every nook and cranny he still wouldn’t be able to find us. Hyeri, our little daughter, and I, that is. Who will be turning three years old today. Life had been…quiet ever since I decided that Hyeri and I would do just fine on our own. Except for my mother, nobody knew where I had moved to. I was too scared that our mutual friends would tell Yunho about our whereabouts, therefore I broke contact with everyone from my old life.
Here, in the big city, I was cautious of who I allowed close to myself and to my daughter, but so far I was lucky enough to only meet genuine and lovely people. Hyeri seemed to like it here too, the little girl growing quicker than I could wrap my mind around it. Soon, she’d be going to daycare. Our day was long due to the little birthday party I had thrown for her, only inviting over my mother, my best friend and colleague from work, Hyeri’s two friends she met at the playground a year ago, and well, the landlord of my previous apartment whom I had become friends with soon after moving here. He was a funny and considerate man, always eager to help me out. My mother kept saying he had a harmless crush on me and that I should give him a chance, but I wasn’t ready to date yet, and besides…my mother somehow missed the fact that he was gay and happily in a relationship.
After having tucked Hyeri in and cleaned the house as best as I could once everyone left, I finally had a moment to myself as I went back to the kitchen and opened the highest cabinet I could reach to grab a glass and my favorite brand of wine. I settled at the table and popped the bottle open, pouring myself an acceptable amount of wine, relaxing into the chair as I placed one leg up on it, hooking my arm around it. I closed my eyes and savored the almost sweet taste of the wine, sighing quietly and being thankful that it was finally the weekend. I could forget for two days about the massive workload I had at my job, papers upon papers pilling up on my desk, a constant reminder of how overworked I was while being underpaid. But I suppose that’s just how things seem to work nowadays. I must be thankful that I make enough to provide for myself and my lovely Hyeri, still.
As I let my head fall forward and rest on my knee, a floorboard seemed to creak in the hallway. Did Hyeri have another nightmare? Or was just the house settling? I listened closely, but I haven’t heard Hyeri’s door opening, so it couldn’t have been her. Suddenly, the hairs on my arms stood and my body froze, sensing danger before I could even see it. I shoot up from the chair when I heard the floorboards creak again, and prayed to God that it was just my best friend coming back, having left something here. She had a key, after all, she was allowed to let herself in without announcing that she was coming. However, the tall and sturdy figure standing in my kitchen’s doorway made my heart drop to my stomach, hand clenching tightly around the glass of wine I was still holding onto for comfort.
Jeong Yunho.
But how—I had escaped him. Forever. I ran away, I did everything, I—my thoughts kicked into overdrive as I realized Hyeri was just a few doors down, sleeping in her bed, unassuming of the monster standing inside our home. I had to protect her. I just had to. Yunho could never know, he could take me, he could kill me, but he would never touch my Hyeri.
“Fancy little house,” Yunho’s voice was just as deep as three years ago, perhaps deeper now, as his eyes scouted the place, “looks like the dream house you always told me about.���
I gulped, unable to respond as Yunho pursed his cherry-red lips, stepping further inside the kitchen. Strangely, his shoes were missing and so was his jacket. Blue jeans clung to his long legs, a little baggy, and a grey sweater warmed his torso, some university’s name printed on the front of it, his silver rosary hanging over it. Yunho looked like—the man I had once loved. Like the dream guy I thought I was lucky to score. But I knew who he was, what he hid underneath that sheep mask of his. There was a wolf underneath, a dangerous predator waiting for you to lower your walls, to let him in, to be vulnerable.
“What are you doing here?” I found my voice at last, when his fingers touched the petals of the flowers I had placed in a vase, in the middle of the round table I had in my kitchen. Those were my favorite flowers; the same ones Yunho would always buy for me.
“I was passing through the city,” Yunho explained, smiling a little as he noticed a picture of my mother and I stamped onto the fridge, “thought I could stop by and say hi.”
“No.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as my heart did somersaults against my ribcage, “No, you can’t—you just broke in, Yunho! I’m calling the cops—”
“It’s not called breaking in when you have a key.” I all but blanched as he grabbed some keys out of his pocket and dangled them towards me. My blood froze over, body going numb. How did he have that? Just how?! “And the cops won’t be doing anything, my dear—”
“Don’t call me that,” I all but almost shouted, forgetting for a second that I had a little child in the house, “Don’t—you can’t be here, Yunho. You have to get out, right now.”
The friendliness slipped from his face as his eyes darkened, slowly walking around the table, coming closer. I backed away from him, trying to aim for the door, but before I could make a run for it, his hand had already wrapped around my arm, yanking my body into his. I gasped, his once familiar cologne wafting through my nose as Yunho’s dark eyes focused on my face, the same chocolate color as they used to be. But they were cold again, just like three years ago. He really wasn’t the man I had once loved.
“Oh, Y/N,” He sighed, leaning down and nuzzling his head against my neck, nose pressing into my skin, “I have missed you so much.”
I was shaking, frozen to the spot, trying to come up with an escape plan. I would have to go to the police, I needed help. How did he find me?!
“Get off.” I whispered, hands gripping his arms to the point my nails dug through his sweater, “Yunho, let go of me!”
Yunho groaned, pulling back to grab me by the nape as he lowered his head to be eye-level with me. I glared at him fiercely as I tried to wrestle myself out of his hold, but he grabbed my right arm and flushed it against himself, pinning my arm to his back.
“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to find you?” He sounded amused, yet his expression conveyed annoyance, “Did you think you could hide from me?”
My chest was rising and falling quickly as my glare bore into his eyes, his glare just as menacing as mine, “Did you think you could end things like that between us?”
“Yes.” I hissed, fed up by always feeling so small and scared of him, “I left you. There’s no us anymore and there’ll never be, Yunho. You’re a—criminal! You’re not the man I fell in love with, and I have nothing to do with you anymore.”
“That’s not how a relationship works, my dear, we take that decision together.” Yunho snapped, his perfectly calm mask finally slipping as he seethed, jaw tense and a fire in his eyes, “I am still the same man you fell in love with, I’m just not afraid to show all sides of myself to you anymore, Y/N.”
“You tricked me.”
“I didn’t.”
Silence fell around us as we both breathed through our mouths, breaths mingling as our faces were close to each other. My cheeks were slowly flushing from the adrenaline that was coursing through my bloodstream, ears ringing as I started feeling helpless. I had to get away, I needed to get Hyeri and flee this place.
“You would’ve ran away if you knew who I truly was so early on, Y/N.” Yunho sounded defeated as he averted his eyes to the floor, finally releasing my arm he had pinned to his back, instead cradling my face with both hands as he walked me backwards towards the table. I gasped as the back of my thighs hit the sturdy surface, and I held onto Yunho’s sides, trying not to fall backwards.
“Yet I still ran away, Yunho.” I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat, “You scared me away. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
“That’s a wish I can’t grant you, I’m sorry.” He licked his lips as his thumbs started caressing my cheeks, his chocolate brown eyes falling onto my lips. My heart seemed to stutter when he leaned closer, his eyes fluttering almost shut, and when he was mere centimeters away from my lips, he paused. I gulped, heart hammering in my chest as I gripped his wrists, his hold turning painful, “When were you going to tell me?”
It was merely a whisper, but with how close he was to me, I heard it crystal clear. I went rigid, suddenly fearing for my daughter’s and my own life again, “What are you talking about?”
When Yunho’s eyes shifted to the side, where the fridge was, and I followed with my own, I stopped breathing. We were both looking at the drawing made by Hyeri, a little girl standing in the middle, holding two women’s hands. Mine and my mother’s. They stood in front of a house, smiles on their faces and with a sun that was a little too big for the otherwise cute drawing. I have never felt dread up until that moment consume my whole being, and before I could stop myself, my eyes glassed over and I gripping onto the collar of Yunho’s sweater, trying to breathe regularly.
“Yunho, no—please—you can’t—”
“I can’t what?” He looked beyond furious, hands crushing my cheeks as a few tears rolled down the,, “She’s my daughter too.”
“No, please.” I tried not to sob, scared it would wake Hyeri, “You can’t—I—I won’t let you. You can’t hurt her. I won’t let you, Yunho, she’s mine—”
“She’s ours.” Yunho snapped, shaking me in the process, making me whimper as I grabbed onto his face.
“Please, Yunho, just leave—just leave us alone.” I begged him, flinching as he started wiping my tears away, almost with a fascinated look on his face.
“You were never going to tell me, right?” He asked in a whisper, suddenly looking very sad. My heart stilled and I felt bad, but then I had to remind myself that he had killed someone and that he had probably done so many worse things that I didn’t know about, and didn’t want to know about. I never truly knew who Jeong Yunho was, and I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t let him come back in our lives. He would ruin everything again.
“I—”
“Mommy?” Both Yunho and I froze, our eyes going wide before Yunho was letting me go, stepping back, looking shocked as his eyes quickly fell on his daughter. I quickly wiped my cheeks clear of tears and tried not to sniff as I turned to smile at our daughter, forcing myself to mask my distress.
“My love,” I chuckled, walking around the table to get to her, scared that Yunho would try to do something, “you’re awake?”
“Bad dream.” Hyeri whined as she rubbed at her eyes, giggling when I hastily picked her up. My heart was beating even faster than before as I tucked her head against my neck, shielding her view from Yunho, who was unresponsive as he stared at us wide eyed. I didn’t know how he’d react, and I was terrified. The resemblance between Hyeri and Yunho was unmistakable. She was an exact replica of Yunho with her round cheeks, freckles spreading around it, and pouty lips, even her eyes were the same light color as Yunho’s in the sunlight. Her temperament, too, was similar to Yunho’s. My daughter was a constant reminder of who I once used to love, yet I could never hold that against her. She was everything I have ever wished for, my light, my life.
When Yunho went to take a step towards us, I quickly backed away, walking out of the kitchen altogether, seemingly making him freeze. He gulped, eyes searching my face for something, but I was begging him to stay back and leave us alone. His hands balled up into fists at his side and I feared what would come next.
“Who is man?” Hyeri mumbled against my neck, peaking at Yunho with her eyebrows furrowed. Yunho and her shared a long look, and it broke my heart as Hyeri gave me an even more confused look than before, “Is he uncle?”
I could only hope she was too young to understand reality.
“No,” Hearing Yunho’s soft voice made me jump and caught Hyeri’s attention again, “just someone—who loves mommy and you.”
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying in front of our daughter and instead forced a smile on my face as Hyeri looked at me wonderingly, “Really?”
“Yes.” I answered her, my own voice sounding unsure and shaky, “Let’s go to sleep while this man leaves, alright?”
“Mommy,” Hyeri mumbled, looking at Yunho again, eyebrows furrowing, “can man tuck me in?”
“What—” I whispered confused, looking at Yeri with furrowed eyebrows, “no, he—”
“Please.” But Yunho’s pleading voice full with regret shut me up quickly as he slowly approached us, very reluctantly reaching his hand out to pet Hyeri’s fluffy hair, “Please.”
And when Yunho’s eyes found mine again, I was alarmed to see the man I had once fallen in love with. Desperate, begging with everything he could, yet reluctant to reach out. Just who was Jeong Yunho?
“Just this once.” I whispered, arms tightening around Hyeri as Yunho’s face lit up, eyes clearing of the tears he was holding back.
“Thank you.” He’s never looked so grateful before, and my eyes widened when he pressed a swift kiss against my lips, making Hyeri giggle in my arms. And before I could interfere, Hyeri was making grabby hands at Yunho, smiling brightly as he carefully took her in his arms, cradling his daughter against his chest like it was his most prized possession. Yunho’s eyes shone like they were the sun and I stood frozen as he walked towards her bedroom, Hyeri muttering things to him that I couldn’t hear.
What was I going to do now?
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shiver | s.r.
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.
warnings: angst, avoidant!reader
a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!
wc: 3.1k
"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."
The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.
It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk.
He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting.
When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated.
It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away.
Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily.
He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears.
His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why.
Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you.
And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you.
Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of.
6 months ago - November
“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you.
“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”
“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke.
“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”
“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk.
“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”
“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her.
“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”
“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you.
“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,”
“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”
“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”
“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest.
Present Day
Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work.
The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen.
“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.”
As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms.
“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.
“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”
It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low.
“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.
“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”
“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.
“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine.
“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”
“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,”
“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”
“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”
“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things.
“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror.
“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”
Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”
The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off.
“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road.
“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”
“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”
“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”
“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”
“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest.
“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”
You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked.
Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”
The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back.
You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input.
Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls.
Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first.
You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could.
As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly.
Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”
His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close.
And everything went black.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfic
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Let Free The Curse of Taekwondo: Things you didn't notice #1
Isn't this another K-BL where I'm internally squealing because of every single detail? You bet it is. You can read my other meta/cultural detail/Korean language posts for Love for Love's Sake, Time of Fever, Grey Shelter and Boys be Brave on my pinned post or hashtags^^ (I really need to organize it under one singly hashtag tho...)
I already talked about how impressed I am with the fact that this series has done their preparation job well, with props, settings, language, history etc.
It is about a countryside/small town in Southern province of Korea - because a lot of characters use satoori (southern dialect), almost all of them except for the main two guys. There is also a distinct contrast/conflict between 'fancy Seoul rich guys' looking down on 'Southern town'. Juyoung even was surprised Dohoi doesn't use satoori.
To which, he responded with 'You'll be uncomfortable if I use it". And Juyoung said there are plenty other uncomfortable things around here, beside understanding/listening to everyone using other accent xD Confusing Gaga translation errors, we meet again!
Actually, it's interesting because Dohoi's name is written 이도회 in Korean, which typically would be written as 'Dohoi' but pronounced as 'Dohwe' (think of surname Choi that is actually pronounced as Chwe), yet in the first episode I clearly heard them actually say 'Dohoi', letter by letter. Now I wonder if it's also related to satoori... I wish I could speak it, it sounds so cool tbh.
He actually said 'I'm not in a good condition', meaning his physical form. What do you mean, mood, when was that ever an excuse in sports..?xD
By the way, what is it with boys trying to get closer to other boys by buying them unusual ice cream?:') Okay, garlic sounds more weird than red bean one :D
Also, I tried to find the Hasong town they talked about but failed - maybe because of incorrect transcription or maybe they made up this town based on Uiseong - a small town close to Daegu which is famous for being the most famous garlic town, they produce a lot of it and garlic fame would be seen everywhere - so who knows, I bet they allude to this when Juyoung said 'why can't there be a vanilla garlic ice cream? It's like a collaboration!'
Another thing, I thought the time of this series was somewhere around 1990s-2000s (because I watched a movie in similar setting that was called 1997 year but they still used pagers, now that I think about it). It was also still the time where teachers could use physical punishment on their students, it's heavily highlighted but I don't actually know around what time they stopped... Probably in Seoul, they already were getting rid of it but in small towns it was old-school teaching, which is again why Dohoi tried to tell Joyoung out of it.
I'm not familiar when small laptops and phones appeared in Seoul but I think the series is actually somewhere around 2005-2010! Which would make sense, Juyoung got the 'cool' flip-phone and a laptop with Windows XP (released in 2001) but small town is still far from that, as they use landline house phones to make a call.
He also has mp3 player and as other tumblr folks figured out, he was listening and dancing to Jewelry song released in 2005 :)
And another thing that convinced me about the time era... the final scene!
Do you want to know why at the end of Ep 1 Dohoi smiled and laughed and ran to Juyoung even after so many exhausting days and neverending small miseries and a new loud housemate?
Because Juyoung not only came to pick him up with an umbrella in the acid rain, he also reenacted the famous umbrella scene from the classic romantic K-drama called "Temptation of Wolves" (늑대의 유혹) which was released in 2004! To make Dohoi laugh.
(Yes, when Juyoung intentionally put the umbrella down and the camera cut the shot to the framing when the umbrella slowly lifts up, showing smiling Juyoung, I was like 'you did nooooooot' xD)
(last screenshots taken from @heretherebedork post, I'm sorry I am very lazy and cannot take a good screenshot for life :'))
So that was already our very first romantic teasing-implication!
Another cute thing: optimistic Joyoung wrote a diary entry into the fake old Korean "Facebook" (they had Cyworld instead) to share his first selfie with Dohoi:
"[Excited Shin Jjuyoung]" (typing in a popular back then teenage style) "I miss you guys... But here it's nice too hehe ^___^ Come to play with me!! Together with my friend Dohoi too~~!"
Aren't they the cuteestttttt? I mean, this dynamic is not new but I love how unique the setting is. And I can't wait to watch the second episode, I'm waiting and savoring the first one for now but I'm going to make notes about other episodes as well so stay tuned! If you reply/comment in tags, I will put you in my tag list^^
Tag list: @benkaben @pickletrip @troubled-mind
#let free the curse of taekwondo#korean bl#kbl#dropthemeta#dropthemeta kbl#lfct#lfct comments#let free the curse of taekwondo comments#bl series#juyoung x dohoi#shin juyoung#lee dohoi
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somewhere to run | 6. the confession
Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Joel finds out the truth and convinces you to press charges.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, domestic violence and SA (discussed after the fact), mental and physical abuse, detailed conversations about DV and SA (I didn't get too descriptive about the SA but I do use the R word a couple times) please let me know if I missed anything because there is a lot going on here
WC: 9K
A/N: as the title implies, we are going to get more details about what happened to reader in this one so once again, please heed the warnings and don't read if you think it will be triggering for you. I tried not to be too graphic.
Series Masterlist
Joel could hardly sleep that night. Instead of going to the station, he headed home so he could be with Sarah. She wondered why he got home so early from his date, but he dodged the question and the two of them worked together in silence - Sarah on her homework, Joel on his incident report. When she asked him why he was working from home, he just shook his head and said something came up. She was a smart girl. She knew something was bothering him, but she didn't push it and he was grateful.
He tossed and turned all night, his mind reeling while he looked at his phone every few minutes. He checked the volume, he made sure do not disturb was off, wondering if you would reach out, but you never did. Maybe it wasn't unusual for Patrick to not come home. Or maybe you heard what happened and you were mad at Joel. That worried him the most. The fear that his actions might have destroyed what fragile relationship he had left with you ate him up as he stared blankly at his ceiling.
Morning came too quickly and too slowly all at once. He rubbed his tired eyes as he dragged himself into the bathroom. When he leaned forward to turn the water on, he was met with a sharp pain in his chest. He glanced down, rubbing the area tenderly and realized a large bruise was forming from his fight the night before. He winced when he pressed on a particularly sensitive spot and tried his best to avoid the area during his shower.
After he dropped Sarah off at school, he headed into work, his heart beginning to beat faster the closer he got to the station. He had no doubt in his mind the whole town knew what happened last night, but he was too tired and too overwhelmed to care about their curious questions and senseless gossip.
When he walked in, he breezed right past Helen's desk with a curt nod, doing his best to avoid all eye contact until he was within the safety of his office. He booted up his ancient computer and waited, his thumb rubbing mindlessly against his lower lip as he stared out his window.
He would go to the diner today. He already decided he had to see you. The radio silence was killing him and he needed to make sure you were okay. He was embarrassed about the Facebook messages, even more so that you weren't the one to read them, but Patrick was right. They were not innocent. The words held more weight than they appeared, but he had to come to terms with the fact that you were not his, and then maybe with some closure, he would be able to move on.
The morning dragged on slowly. Bobby caught him at the coffee maker, already working on his third cup, depending solely on the caffeine to help keep him going.
"Hey, boss. You look like shit, but not as bad as him," Bobby said, pouring himself more coffee and jutting his chin to the back of the building where the holding cells were located.
"Feel like shit," Joel mumbled, leaning against the counter and taking a sip from his mug.
"Think you broke his nose," Bobby added, finally looking up at him. "Called the doc but turns out he's real busy this mornin', won't be able to come by til after hours. Such a damn shame," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Joel understood what he was saying without him having to say it. The people in this town looked out for one another and didn't take kindly to a stranger hurting one of their own. They were leaving Patrick to deal with his injuries longer than necessary.
"I don't think I broke anythin', he did that all on his own chargin' into that table," Joel said, but Bobby shook his head.
"Not the way he tells it," he replied with a chuckle. "You'd think you nearly killed him, the way he's been whinin' back there."
"No doubt lookin' for a lawsuit," Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Don't worry, boss. You got a bar full'a witnesses. Hank already offered to give a statement and he was probably the only sober one there."
"Yeah, good. Thanks," Joel replied, pushing off the counter to head back to his office, trying to ignore the sideways glances of the men watching him from the bullpen. He shook his mouse and grimaced when he saw an email from the mayor looking to set up a meeting with him that week to discuss the incident. He knew he did nothing wrong, but the more attention this brought him, the worse he felt. Eventually, all of that talk would make its way back to you and Sarah, the truth most likely getting distorted along the way. He made a mental note to have a talk with his daughter that night as he slowly typed out a response to the mayor.
He swore he would try to get some actual work done, but he ended up spending more time staring out the window or at his phone, watching the minutes tick by til it was lunchtime and he could see you. Maybe he could pull you aside and talk to you in private. Maybe he could fix this.
The moment the clock read a reasonable hour, he jumped up from his seat and snatched his blazer from the coat hook, rolling his shoulders as he walked and put it on, then stifling a grunt when he felt a muscle in his chest pull from the effort.
He kept his head down as he walked down the street towards the diner, only glancing up once when he passed the pizza place. Your curtains were still drawn, no lights on that he could see, no sign of life.
A few people called out to him as he passed, but all he could muster was a tight smile and quick wave, not in the mood to get wrapped up into any conversations.
When he swung the door open, his eyes immediately went to the counter, searching you out but only finding Betty. Before he had a chance to look around the dining room, he heard María greet him.
"Where the hell were you last week?"
"I was here Friday," he muttered, looking around and avoiding her eyes.
"Yeah, with Nikki. Heard some stuff about that-"
"Is she here?" Joel asked, finally dragging his gaze to meet Maria's. She frowned and shook her head.
"No, she called in sick," Maria said, watching him carefully. "Joel, what's going on with you two? People are saying stuff about you and her husband, and-"
"She's sick?" Joel repeated, panic beginning to bubble to the surface. Maria nodded and shrugged.
"Yeah, people get sick, Joel. Hey! Where are you going?"
Joel didn't reply, he just hurried out the doors, nearly knocking down a middle aged couple as they were about to walk inside. He mumbled an apology as he jogged down the street towards your place.
Something was wrong.
Your eye cracked open when you heard the doorbell, the heavy thudding in your head making you immediately nauseous. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, rolling back under the covers. Maybe if you were quiet, Patrick would think you were at work and he would leave. But the bell kept ringing, the sound pinging around in your brain making the headache you already had so much worse.
When he began pounding on the door and shouting from the street, you dragged yourself out of bed and wrapped yourself in a thin robe. You knew your body couldn't take much more, but letting him in would be better than allowing him to make a scene in front of the whole town, so you forced your feet forward, still limping from the day before.
You had to pause in the doorway to catch your breath as you clutched your side, wincing in pain as you tried to gingerly walk down the steps, but you were taking too long and he just kept pounding and shouting and the all noise was making you sick.
"Stop," you called out weakly, not convinced he would even hear you, but miraculously he did because the noise finally ceased, and you sighed a small breath of relief.
Shakily, you reached out to grip the doorknob, your fingers fumbling with the locks until you finally managed to twist the brass handle, opening the door just a sliver, worried people walking by would see your face. Then, unexpectedly, you heard Joel's voice instead of Patrick's say your name softly and before you could peer around the door, you went to quickly shut it with no success. His hand gripped the door tightly, but you held firm, hiding behind the wood.
"You shouldn't be here," you told him, your voice weak and broken.
"I know you're mad at me but I gotta talk to you 'bout what happened," he said from the other side. "Please let me in."
Unbeknownst to you both, you were talking about two different things.
"If he finds you here... no, you have to leave," you said, pushing the door again, but he didn't budge.
"Patrick?" he questioned, sounding confused.
"Yes, Patrick," you rasped, getting dizzy from exerting so much energy in your weakened state. "Please just go."
"He's in jail, did - no one told you?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice down.
"Jail?" you repeated, and your grip on the door loosened in surprise. Joel felt it and took the opportunity to open it further. You stepped back quickly, wrapping the robe around you tighter and trying to fidget with your hair to hide the marks, but you knew it was pointless the moment you saw his face after closing the door behind him.
"What the fuck?" he whispered, his jaw dropping as his eyes slowly raked over your face, neck and arms. Your lip was swollen and cut, the scab breaking open and beginning to weep the more you spoke. Your cheekbone had a light purple bruise blooming under your skin, as did your jaw. There was a small gash near your hairline and what looked like scratch marks down your neck, leading past your collar bone and below your robe. When you shakily brought your hands up to cover your face in shame, he saw the dark bruises on your wrists.
"Oh my god," he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder. When he reached out, you flinched away and he felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.
"You should go," you said quietly, your eyes pinned to the ground.
"I can't," he said in utter disbelief. "I can't... why didn't you call me?"
You looked like you were about to reply but decided against it and instead still kept your gaze averted.
"C'mon, lemme take you upstairs and get a look at you," he said, reaching out again, but you stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto the steps.
"Please don't touch me," you told him, holding up a hand, and he nodded.
"Okay, I won't touch you," he said, trying to remain calm while his heart was breaking. "Let's just go upstairs, alright?"
Reluctantly, you agreed and slowly ascended the steps, Joel following dutifully behind. He ushered you over to the couch, making sure you were seated before he went to your bathroom, rummaging around in your medicine cabinet while you sat there, your face buried in your palms and trying not to cry.
He came back into the living room, trying not to make you feel worse by hiding his reaction, but it was hard. He swallowed and dropped his eyes to the assortment of first aid items in his hands.
"Did you take anything for the pain?" he asked, his voice thick, his throat tight.
"Not today, no," you admitted softly. He nodded and shook out two white pills from a bottle and handed them to you before getting you some water. While safely in the kitchen where you couldn't see him, he let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down. How could this happen? How didn't he see it? He should have checked on you earlier. He never should have fucking let you leave with Patrick yesterday. Guilt racked his brain as he exhaled slowly and went back to you in the living room.
"Here," he said, handing you the bottle of water. You took it and popped the pills in your mouth, wincing as you swallowed them down.
He sat down on the couch next to you but was sure to give you your space as he picked up the antiseptic and some gauze.
"Will you let me?" he asked, holding up the items in his hand. You paused and looked at them, then him. His eyes were wide and soft and shiny with unshed tears. Slowly, you nodded and watched as he twisted off the cap and put some of the antiseptic on the gauze, first pressing it gently against the gash on your forehead, then making a fresh one for your lip.
At first, he dabbed at the cut gently, ghosting over your skin as if he were afraid. But then he brought his other hand up to caress your chin, his fingers feather-like and so careful that it made your eyes flutter shut, his touch unlike anything you were used to. When you finally opened your eyes again, his hands were gone and he was staring at you, the look in his eyes morphing from sadness to one you were much more familiar with.
"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him," he said menacingly, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Don't," you said, shaking your head, but his eyes darkened and his jaw was set.
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? I could've done somethin'. I could've-"
"What? What could you have done, Joel? I've heard it all before," you told him, your lip trembling. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. And it never works. Nothing ever changes and it just gets worse."
Joel shook his head, still not understanding.
"I'm a cop, I coulda protected you. There's laws in place for this kinda thing."
"I've gone to the cops, Joel! More than once! And they all told me the same shit!" you exclaimed, getting worked up now. "Then I go home, and magically my statement goes missing, or my medical exam report, and I'm in worse shape than before because guess what? It makes him really fucking mad when his buddies on the force find out what he does to his wife at home."
Joel's lips parted as he watched your chest heave for breath, the energy quickly draining from your frail body.
"I... I'm so sorry," was all he could say. He couldn't blame you for not trusting anyone, especially him, now that he finally knew the truth. Everything was starting to make sense. His guilt was pulling him down and he felt like he was drowning in it. So many things he should have done. Should have seen. He should have helped you but instead he trotted Nikki in front of you to make you feel even worse.
"I can really help you, though. I ain't like that," he said, scooting a little closer to you.
"I've heard that before, too," you said sadly, dropping your gaze to the ground. "There's no getting out of this. I thought by running I could try to start over, but it's clear now he will never let me go." You closed your eyes as two tears fell down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily, hating yourself for being so weak all the time.
Joel felt his chest squeeze, his heart breaking as he watched you fall apart. He needed to do something. He couldn't let you down. You needed to get out of this, or else it could cost you your life.
"Look at me," he said, waiting until your tears slowed and you forced your eyes open. "I promise I'll help you. I fuckin' promise you, alright? You ain't in Pennsylvania, I ain't his buddy, and I will do whatever I gotta do to keep you safe."
You searched his face, eyes all wide and your heart sliced open, lying on the table between you. You've been let down so many times, it was so hard to tell when anyone was being truthful anymore, but you couldn't deny what you felt for him. And what he felt for you. You knew something was there, something real and honest and pure. He wouldn't have any reason to lie to you at this point, so after a moment, you nodded.
"Okay," you whispered, and you could see the relief flood his face.
He sat back on the couch and rubbed his chin in thought, staring at the TV screen across from him that wasn't even on while the gears in his tired head worked overtime.
"Alright," he finally said, slapping his knees and standing up from the couch. "First things first: you gotta get to a doctor."
You immediately recoiled and shook your head.
"Absolutely not."
"I'm sorry, but you have to. I gotta..." he trailed off and chewed the inside of his cheek before pushing onward. "I gotta have a doctor take pictures."
Your face instantly crumpled and you buried your face in your hands once again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered for what felt like the hundredth time, getting down on one knee to be eye level with you. "But in order for this to work, they gotta record evidence, okay?"
"Joel, I can't," you whimpered, your face still covered, but he nodded and caressed the side of your head with his palm.
"Yes, you can. I'll be right there, okay? Unless you don't want me there, but I'll go with you if you want. Or I'll wait outside the door. Whatever you need, I'll do it. I'm gonna get you outta this."
You sniffled and finally dropped your hands to your lap, your gaze finding his.
"This is the last time, I promise you," he said, staring deep into your eyes. "I'll never let him near you again."
You thought his words over for a moment, the two of you sitting in silence, looking at the other. One trying to earn trust, the other trying to give it. Finally, you closed your eyes and nodded, giving your consent for what was to come.
"Okay," Joel said softly, dropping his hand from your face and standing up to pull out his phone.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm lookin' up the number of a doctor I trust. She's a woman, too. She's real nice and sensitive. I've used her for a couple cases in the past," he said, finding the number and dialing it, bringing the phone up to his ear. Cases. You couldn't help but feel like just another victim the way he said it, even though he didn't mean it that way. You listened as he spoke to her over the phone in a hushed tone, not giving too much of your information away but insisting it was an urgent matter. When he hung up, he turned to you with a weak smile.
"She can see you this afternoon."
"Oh," you said, glancing down at your appearance. You weren't expecting to leave the house that day and you weren't sure what to do.
"It's okay," he said, sitting down next to you again and resting his hand on your knee. "I'll take you through the backdoor of her office, no one'll see you. She'll be fast."
You nodded and looked up at him.
"Maybe I should shower," you said. He paused and shifted his gaze away.
"You, uh," he cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers. He knew this would come up, one way or another. "I don't mean to get into too much detail, but if he..." Joel trailed off, finding it difficult to finish his sentence. "If he did more than hit you, you shouldn't shower," he finally choked out, unable to look you in the eye.
You froze, finally understanding what he meant. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall, his neck tensing, his nostrils flaring, as he waited for your response.
"I won't shower, then," you finally said, your voice strained.
His eyes slid shut and he dropped his chin to his chest. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he tried to steady his breathing.
"I'll just go change," you mumbled, standing up while he nodded, still trying to breathe.
He did his best to collect himself while you were out of the room, but he could feel himself spiraling. What was he doing when it happened? Was he watching a movie with Sarah? Was he eating dinner? Was he getting ready for his fucking date with Nikki?
He could feel the tears welling up but he quickly wiped them away. You needed him to be strong. You needed someone to help you, to take care of you. He couldn't afford to be weak right now. He would let himself feel it later, when he was all alone at home and Sarah was asleep. When nobody needed him and he could just let the guilt and shame and sorrow wash over him.
"Jesus, Joel," Carol muttered as she left the exam room. Joel jumped up from his seat, anxiously waiting for it to be over. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to wipe the sweat away. She sighed and looked up at him, taking off her glasses.
"So?"
"So?" she repeated, shaking her head. "So, I have your evidence."
Joel nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"She's been through a lot," Carol said softly, walking him down to her office for privacy. She closed the door but he didn't sit down.
"She's gonna be lookin' for me," he explained, jutting his thumb over his shoulder.
"I'll be quick," she said, sitting down at her desk with a sigh. "There was significant scarring and healed bones, detailing years of abuse, and definitely evidence of some most recently."
"Yeah, I imagine anyone can see that by just lookin' at her face," he replied, but she shook her head.
"I didn't mean her face."
Joel felt his breath get caught in his throat.
"Right," he finally said, his voice cracking.
"She said her husband is a cop?" Carol asked, flipping open a yellow file on her desk. Joel nodded.
"Got him in lockup right now for swingin' on me at Hank's," he explained.
Carol's eyes glanced up at his and she quirked an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I heard something about that," she said, lacing her fingers together and looking at him closely. "Can I give you some advice, Joel?"
He shifted his weight, not sure where she was going with it, but nodded anyway.
"Don't take her statement yourself. Have someone else do it, alright?"
"Why?" he asked quickly, and she gave him a knowing look.
"Because it'll be gruesome, and you're too involved."
Joel frowned.
"Too-"
"Don't care what you've got going on with her, I'm just giving you some friendly advice. Let someone else do it," she said, her eyes softening. "Besides, you got into it with her husband last night. You don't want some hot shot lawyer tossing out her testimony in court because he can link together some personal relationship between you two."
Joel considered her words for a moment and reluctantly nodded. She was right. He was having a hard time keeping things separate, and he appreciated the clarity. He couldn't fuck this up for you. Not now.
"Anythin' else?"
She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.
"You'll have my report in the morning," she said. He nodded, thanking her again for seeing you on such short notice before exiting the room. He turned the corner just as you were opening the exam room door clutching a worn hoodie around yourself and looking around frantically before your eyes fell on him and you visibly relaxed.
"Hey, sorry. You alright?" he asked, his hands gently coming up to your shoulders to guide you towards the back exit. You gulped and nodded.
"Wasn't so bad," you said.
"Good. You did the right thing," he said as he held open the door for you and led you back to his truck.
Once you were comfortably seated and Joel merged back into traffic, you shot him a sideways glance and asked him the question that had been weighing on your mind since he came over that morning.
"Joel?"
"Hm?" he said, twisting his head to the side to change lanes.
"Why is Patrick in jail?"
Joel's grip on the steering wheel tightened and there was an uncomfortable pause before he sighed.
"He came at me last night. We happened to both be at a bar at the same time, he was drunk and swung on me."
"What?!" you exclaimed, twisting around in your seat to look at him.
"I thought you knew since he didn't come home last night. Thought you were avoidin' me by callin' off work," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.
"No, I had no idea. He hasn't been staying at my apartment, he has a motel room somewhere," you said, peering at his face, then dropping your gaze to his hands where you could see now his knuckles were a little red.
"Are you okay?" you asked after a beat, and he scoffed.
"Am I okay?" he repeated with a shake of his head. He looked at you in shock, the corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk. "I'm fine. Can't believe you'd be worried 'bout me after what you went through."
"Of course I worry about you," you said softly, and he felt his heart melt. Why did you have to be so sweet? After everything you've been through, after everyone in your life has let you down, you were still so fucking sweet.
He wanted to say more. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn't. He couldn't put that kind of stress on you. It would be selfish to tell you how much he thinks about you, how much he wished you were his, how he hasn't been able to get you out of his head since the moment he laid eyes on you. No, that would be wrong. It wasn't the right time, so he swallowed the words back from the tip of his tongue and focused on the road.
"What's next?" you asked him as he walked you up to your front door. Mercifully, the weather was threatening to downpour so the streets were quiet.
"Well, next you'll have to come down to the station and give your statement so we can formally press additional charges," he said, knowing you wouldn't want to hear it but he was surprised when you simply nodded your head.
"Okay. When?"
"Tomorrow?" he offered, and you nodded again as you unlocked your door.
"I'll have to call off work or come by after," you told him, stepping inside and turning to look at him.
"Listen, 'bout that," Joel began, and you frowned. "I gotta tell Tommy."
"No!" you cried, your eyes going wide with worry, but he shushed you and shook his head.
"I gotta tell him so he can keep an eye on things, alright? I won't be able to keep him in lockup for much longer and I can't be with you all the time to protect you, d'you understand?"
"Joel..." you whimpered, burying your face in your hands. He had to physically restrain himself from pulling you into his arms. He fucking hated seeing you like this.
"We can file a restraining order tomorrow but a piece of paper won't necessarily keep him away, and I can't risk it," Joel explained, his heart breaking for you.
"Okay," you sniffled, finally coming to terms with it. If you were going to do this, you had to trust him.
"Okay," Joel repeated. "Tommy served in the Army, he knows what he's doin', I promise. I'll tell him to keep it quiet, alright?"
"Yeah," you whispered, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.
"And no more walkin' back from work in the dark. Take your car or get a ride. If I can, I'll drive you - " Joel pulled out his phone to look at his calendar, but you stopped him.
"I can manage, but thank you."
You looked at one another for a moment, both of you unsure what else to say. You were thankful for what he was doing but you weren't sure you had the words to properly express your gratitude. Everything you wanted to say felt so small, so insignificant. So instead of attempting to cobble together some sentence that wouldn't do your feelings justice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face against his warm chest. He quickly brought his arms up around you in return, gently placing his hands on your head and back as he held you carefully against him, as if he was worried you would break. He was absolutely certain you could feel how hard his heart was thumping in his chest, but he didn't care. He just wanted to feel you, to hold you, to keep you safe.
"It's gonna be okay," he told you, his voice heavy, and he felt you nod against him before pulling back, his chest suddenly feeling so empty.
"Thank you," you whispered, then spared him one more glance before heading inside, the door clicking shut softly behind you.
Later that evening, after you had forced yourself to eat some soup and drink some water, you were settling in on your couch when you heard a soft knock at your door. You muted your TV and strained your ears to listen. It didn't sound like a familiar knock, not one filled with anger or urgency. You glanced down at your phone, wondering if Joel had sent you a text that you missed, but nothing was there.
Hesitantly, you made your way down the steps. Your fingers brushed the doorknob, but before you opened it, you spoke through the door.
"Who's there?"
"It's me," Maria's voice drifted through the wood, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You unlocked the door and met her eyes. She tried to hold back the wince upon seeing your face, but you still caught it.
"Heard you might need some help," she said, holding up a small plastic bag. You frowned, confused, until she tilted it open for you to look inside. There, you found a variety of makeup bottles and powders in shades that looked pretty close to your skin tone.
You opened the door and let her in. You could tell you were able to take the stairs a little quicker than the morning, and you hoped that meant you were healing because you really couldn't afford to miss more time at work.
"Cute place," she said, glancing around before following you into your living room.
"Thanks," you murmured, turning the volume back on the TV as she settled into the couch next to you.
"I hope you don't mind," she said, motioning towards the bag. "Joel called and told Tommy what happened... I'm so sorry, I wish you would've called us, we could've helped you."
"Thanks," you said with a shrug. "I guess I'm just used to dealing with it on my own."
"Well if you're ever scared of staying alone, we have a spare bedroom, so please don't hesitate to ask."
You gave her a small smile, hoping she could tell how grateful you were. With the exception of one cousin back home, nobody had tried to stand up for you before. Not even your own parents. The whole concept was so foreign to you, you weren't sure how to respond.
Maria seemed to sense this and she changed the subject, leaning forward to sift through the contents of the drugstore bag, pulling out item after item and holding it up against your arm to decide which shade would work best. She spent the next hour helping you cover your cuts and bruises, and by the time you were done, you didn't look half bad.
"How are you feeling?" she asked as she packed up her things and shoved her sneakers back on.
"A little less sore," you admitted. "I should be able to work tomorrow."
"Why don't you take one more day? Joel said you're going down to the station tomorrow, it might take more out of you than you expect."
You thought it over for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. Money was a concern, but you could wait one more day, and maybe you could pick up an extra shift over the weekend.
You thanked her as she headed down the steps and she reminded you again to call her and Tommy if you ever needed anything, and you promised you would.
When you were finally on your own again, you sat in silence, thinking about these people who barely knew you, who you essentially lied to, banding together to help you out. It was unlike anything you were used to, and you were beginning to think you may have finally found your home.
The next morning, you paced around your living room, anxiously nibbling at your nails as you waited for Joel to ring the bell. He had insisted on picking you up. He said he could swing by after he dropped Sarah off at school, that it wouldn't be a problem and he passed by your apartment anyway. You didn't understand why he was so insistent: the walk was less than ten minutes, but you didn't feel like arguing.
You were checking your makeup job in the mirror for the fifth time when the bell rang. With a deep sigh, you pulled on your sneakers, slung your purse over your shoulder and headed down the steps. When you opened the door, he was standing with his back to you under a brown blazer and his arms crossed, trying to appear casual for anybody who might be walking by, but when he heard you step through the door he swiveled around quickly.
"Good morning," you said to him with a small smile after you were sure the door was locked tight.
"Mornin'. You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," you said as he led you to his truck parked a little ways down the street.
"You really didn't have to do this, you know," you said again, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.
"I know," was all he said before opening the passenger door for you and giving you a hand to step up into the cab.
The quick ride to the station was quiet, only the hum from his radio filling the air as your fingers fidgeted in your lap. When he parked the truck and you made a move to open the door, he held a hand out.
"Wait a minute, I gotta talk to you before we go in there."
You dropped your hand to your lap and looked at him expectantly.
"I can't take your statement today, I'm gonna have another officer do it," he said, his words rushed like he knew you wouldn't take the news well. And you didn't.
"What?!" you cried out softly, anxiety already creeping up and squeezing your chest.
"I'm sorry, I can't," he said, taking a deep breath and glancing out the windshield before looking back at you. "There's a conflict of interest. Patrick assaulted me, and if I go and take your statement, it won't look good to a judge."
"Oh my god," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.
"It'll be okay. I'll be right there the whole time. Right on the other side of the glass, okay? I promise, I won't leave."
He watched you for a minute, waiting for you to say something, and when you didn't he began to question himself.
"Unless you don't want me to hear, I don't have to-"
"No, I'd prefer you be there," you said quickly.
He nodded and took a deep breath in.
"I asked a female officer to do it. Her name's Beth. She's real nice, she's dealt with... situations like this in the past."
"Okay," you said softly, reaching for the handle, but once again he stopped you.
"One more thing. I gotta cut him loose tomorrow."
You squeezed your eyes shut. You knew this would happen, but it didn't stop you from feeling the overwhelming sense of dread that crept up your spine.
"It'll be fine. I'll file the restraining order today. If he comes within fifty feet of you, he's goin' right back to jail, okay?" he said, his hand coming up to rest assuringly on your knee.
"Okay," you whispered, finally opening your eyes to look at him.
"You can do this. I know you can."
You had to hold back the tears that sprung up when his words hit your ears. Nobody has ever believed in you, listened to you, took care of you the way he did, and he hardly even knew you. People who have been in your life for years, your own family didn't encourage you the way Joel did. On one hand, it was depressing to realize it took this long for someone to give a shit, but on the other hand, you were so, so relieved someone finally did.
As Joel led you into the station, he kept his head held high, ignoring the glances shot your way and you did your best to do the same. You followed him towards the back, and you hesitated a brief moment before entering the interrogation room, pushing all the bad memories to the back of your mind and focusing on the present.
You needed to put an end to this, once and for all.
You were doing okay. It was half an hour into giving your statement to Beth, and Joel was right. She seemed very kind and patient, and you relaxed after speaking with her for just a few minutes. Or maybe it was because you knew Joel was just a few feet away, watching from the other side of the glass, just like he promised. Whatever it was, you were doing better than you expected.
You had gotten through the bullet points of your history with Patrick. You had detailed how you met after you graduated from high school, how he had just gotten back from basic training with the Marines and was applying to join the Philadelphia police department. You explained how at first, things were great. He was loving and kind, for the most part, but you had been inexperienced and didn't recognize the red flags when you saw them. Like when he got overly possessive at house parties, and especially so when he started drinking. At first, you had thought it was sweet, but then he started getting a little rough. You explained at the time, he would apologize the next day and promise not to do it again, but a few weeks later, he would inevitably go back on his word. The cycle repeated itself over and over for a year, until he proposed one night in front of your entire family, and you had felt pressured to say yes. You had hoped it was just nerves, that eventually you would be excited about marrying him, but it never came. He had rushed you into planning the ceremony and you were only engaged for a few short months. And again, you fooled yourself into thinking everything was just happening so fast, that it was so stressful planning a wedding and that one day, you would be happy.
You couldn't remember the argument that caused him to first hit you. To really hit you, enough to leave a nasty bruise, but you remembered the shock, and you remembered the pain and the fear. And once again, he had apologized the following day, and you forgave him. Because you were weak and scared and confused.
"Did anybody in your life notice?" Beth asked, her eyes filled with what appeared to be genuine concern.
"I hid it at first, but eventually, yes, people noticed," you admitted, fidgeting with the edge of your shirt.
"Did they offer to help you?"
"My cousin," you said, looking down at your hands. "She helped me... she helped me find a clinic so I wouldn't get pregnant."
"Did Patrick know you were on birth control?" Beth asked gently while scratching away with her pen on paper.
"No, I didn't think he would like that."
"Why not?"
"He's made comments to me in the past about wanting a big family, and I was afraid to tell him no. I was afraid he would hurt our children, too," you said, still staring down at your hands.
"Has he raped you?" Beth asked bluntly, and you visibly balked.
"Oh, um," you faltered, the word for whatever reason sending shockwaves through you. You knew the answer, but you just hated admitting it.
"Yes," you finally said, your voice cracking, so you cleared your throat and took a sip of water.
"I'm sorry," Beth said quietly, catching your gaze and giving you a sympathetic look. "I won't ask too much today, but you need to know if this goes to trial, a judge will ask for a lot more detail. You can get a lawyer and they will help walk you through it when the time comes." She reached out across the table to place her hand on top of yours, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles. You nodded, wordlessly telling her to keep going.
"When did it start?"
"Right after we got married, I think."
"How often?" she asked, pulling her hand back so she could focus on writing.
"A few times a week, I guess? I mean, I don't know what counts. A lot of the times I wouldn't be in the mood and he would pressure me, other times were more... deliberate." You swallowed and glanced quickly at the mirror behind Beth, suddenly regretting asking Joel to listen.
"Did you tell your parents?" Beth asked, glancing up at you.
"I told my mom, yes."
"And what did she say?"
"She told me it was a wife's duty to... be available to her husband. She didn't think it was rape." You spit the last word out like it was poison on your tongue. Beth winced but tried to hide it by looking down at her notes.
"And when would he hit you?"
"It varied. Most of the time it was when he was drunk or high. He promised me all the time he would get help, but he never stuck with it."
"Did you ever have to go to the hospital?"
"Yes. A few times. He's broken my arm twice, fractured my hip, and I've had a few concussions. On one occasion, he strangled me until I lost consciousness. I had to be admitted for a bruised trachea." You absentmindedly rubbed your arm and neck as you spoke, your fingers gliding over the old wounds.
"And you've gone to the police before?" she asked.
"Yes, a couple times, but -" you could feel your resolve breaking, and you bit your lower lip to keep it from trembling. "But he always did something to make it go away, and then he would get really mad. One time when I went to file a complaint, he had a cop friend of his lock me in a room just like this one for a whole day. To teach me a lesson." You twirled your finger around the sparse room, tears glistening in your eyes. "They didn't let me out, I couldn't use the bathroom, I didn't have anything to eat or drink. I was all alone."
You stopped talking and tucked your chin against your chest, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. You wiped a shaky palm against your cheek, drying the tears that fell before you looked back up.
"There were times he would be gone for two or three days at a time and come back, all strung out and crazy... those were the times, the times I went to the police, that I ended up in the hospital. So I stopped asking cops for help."
She nodded as she wrote, giving you a minute to collect yourself before her next question. You glanced up at the mirror again and wondered what Joel was thinking. Did he leave? Or was he still there? You almost hoped he had left. You were feeling too vulnerable as it was, but the thought of him looking at you with pity after this was over made your stomach turn.
"I've done this before," you said suddenly, pulling her attention off the page. "And it always ends up the same. Please tell me this will be different."
"It will be different," she said immediately, her jaw set. She put her pen down on her pad and laced her fingers together. "I'm so sorry the justice system as failed you so tremendously, but we will do everything we can for you now that you're here."
You nodded and wiped more of your tears away before she handed you a box of tissues from a small cabinet in the corner of the room. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you met her gaze once again.
"What else?"
"I think that's enough for today," she said, flipping the pages closed on her legal pad. "We got your doctor's report this morning, and combined with this statement we will start the process of formally pressing charges. After that, if he pleads not guilty, it will go before a judge. But let's take it one step at a time, okay?"
"Okay," you said quietly, gathering your purse and following her out of the room. Your eyes immediately drifted around the hallway and then the bullpen, searching for Joel, but he was nowhere to be found. You frowned as Beth led you towards the front lobby, prepared to walk home, when you heard his voice call your name just as you were opening the door.
"I'll take you home," he said. His face looked hardened and his eyes looked distant.
"You don't have to," you began, but he just shook his head and gingerly cupped your elbow, directing you out the door and into the parking lot.
The ride back was silent. He didn't even have the radio on. You glanced out your window nervously, trying not to read too much into it, but when he dropped you off with barely a comforting word or any acknowledgement of what you confessed, you were convinced your greatest fear had come true. Now that he knew it all, now that he finally heard the truth, he couldn't look at you the same.
You were glad Maria had the foresight to tell you to stay home that day. You were mentally exhausted. Rehashing everything and then Joel's reaction put you in an awful mood. By 4pm, after lounging around watching mindless television and checking your phone constantly for any sign of life from Joel, you decided to just make yourself an early dinner, take a shower and then go to bed early.
As you were stepping out of the shower, the water finally turned off and all of the day's makeup covering your wounds down the drain, you heard your doorbell ringing incessantly. Repeatedly. Urgently.
A jolt of dread shot down your spine, but you remembered Joel said Patrick wouldn't be let out until tomorrow. But what if he got out early? What if he made a phone call and Joel was forced to release him?
Wrapped in a robe, your hair dripping down and soaking the thin material, you jogged to the living room and checked your phone. Surely, if Patrick was released, Joel would have warned you, but you didn't have any missed calls or texts. Then the pounding on the door started, making you jump out of your skin.
Slowly, you crept down the stairs, your hand gripping the doorknob tightly, your fingers hovering over the lock.
"Who is it?"
"It's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side, and your eyes widened in shock. You glanced down at your robe, little streaks and drops of wetness trailing down the shiny material.
"Uh, can you -"
"Please open up, people are startin' to look at me like I'm crazy."
With a sigh, you unlocked the door and stepped back, clutching your robe tightly against your chest. Joel squeezed inside and shut the door quickly behind him before turning around, his eyes raking quickly up and down your body before looking you in the eye.
"You were in the shower."
"Yeah," you said, glancing around anxiously before looking up the stairs. "Did you want to come up or something?" He just nodded slowly, his eyes flitting down once again as you led him up the steps.
"I got worried, I was ringin' the bell but I guess you couldn't hear it," he explained, taking off his shoes and shrugging off his blazer.
"What were you worried about? He's still in jail, right?" you asked, handing him some water before sitting down on the couch.
"Yeah, I just... I shouldn'tve left you alone earlier. I shoulda stayed." He stood there, a glass of water in his hand, the other rubbing over his mouth nervously.
You stared at one another for a moment, both trying to figure the other one out. He was breathing faster than normal, his chest rising and falling rapidly under his white button down shirt.
"Why are you here, Joel?" you finally asked, your heart starting to beat faster. "Because if it's out of pity, I don't want it."
"It's not -" he cut himself off and shifted his weight before setting the water down. "It's not pity." He took two steps and sunk down into your couch, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor, trying to figure out what to say.
"It's not fair," he finally said quietly. So quietly, you almost didn't hear him. "Everything that's happened. It's not fuckin' fair."
You scrunched your nose, confused, as you looked at him still staring down at the floor. You were about to open your mouth and ask him what he meant when he spoke again.
"I never shoulda let you leave with him that day. Somethin' felt off, I felt it in my gut-" he sat back to press his hand against his stomach for emphasis. "But I let you go. And he -"
He couldn't finish his sentence, his throat closing up as he fought to blink the tears away.
"It's not your fault, Joel," you told him, resting a hand on his broad shoulder but he stood up quickly to pace around the room.
"I'll never let it happen again," he muttered. "Never gonna let him near you again. I'll fuckin' kill him if I have to, he's never comin' here again." His voice was rising as he spoke, his breath coming in short stutters as he rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers, eyes wide and crazed as the panic seized him.
So it wasn't pity. It was guilt that brought him to you.
"Joel, calm down," you said, standing up to reach out to him, but he kept pacing.
"Oh fuck, I'm never gonna forgive myself," he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"You didn't do this to me, he did," you assured him, trying to get him to stop moving. "You're helping me, Joel. You're the only one who ever really tried to help me. There's nothing to forgive."
He finally paused and glanced at you, his breath a little shallow as the panic began to subside.
"I'm gonna get you outta this, I promise," he said, his voice sounding more steady.
"I know," you replied, nodding your head.
He took a deep breath in through his nose and tore his eyes away from you to glance at his watch.
"I better go," he said regrettably, looking back up at you again.
"Okay," you said, following him to the door and leaning against the wall as he put his shoes back on.
"D'you need anythin'? Did you eat? I can -"
"I ate, I'm fine," you told him with a small smile. "Thank you, though."
"Alright," he said after a moment, then forced himself to open the door. Before he stepped through, he looked back at you over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'm working dinner tomorrow," you told him, suddenly feeling crestfallen you wouldn't see him for lunch.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he repeated, more firm this time. You slowly nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping he couldn't see through your robe.
You listened sadly as his heavy footsteps descended the stairs and the door shut softly behind him. You knew him well enough at this point that he would have turned the lock on the knob before he left but you still wanted to peek down the steps to check. Your eyes widened when, to your surprise, he was still standing there at the bottom of your stairs, his back leaning up against the door. His eyes flicked up to meet yours when he noticed movement, and you saw Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he spoke.
"I can't leave."
You looked at one another for a long moment, your heart slamming in your chest, knowing what this meant. You were sick and tired of always trying to do the right thing. Where did it get you? How could you even fool yourself into thinking you had any obligation to Patrick anymore? Joel knew everything now. He knew what he was doing, so you said the words that were on the tip of your tongue. The words that you knew would open the door for something both of you wanted so desperately, you could taste it.
"Then stay."
Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller angst#joel miller series#joel miller x reader#sheriff!joel#STR fic#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal
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Bad intentions | Part 2
Pairing: Han Jisung x afab!reader
Summary: you thought you could turn Han Jisung into the perfect boyfriend material so you can get revenge on your cheating ex. Little did you know that you would end up getting much more than just a guy to show off.
Words count: 13,668(Idk don't look at me)
This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!
It's advised to read part 1 before this one for context and better understanding of the plot.
Part 1 | Love is a mess: series masterlist
Warnings: dry humping, handjob, fingering, cursing, pet names(baby, pretty), oral(f, m receiving), unprotected piv(for the love of god don't do this irl), jealousy, angst, fluff
A/N: here I am again, procrastinating what I should be doing just so I can take this fic out of my head. Hope you guys like it ❣️
Seunghoon was never one to do acts of service, he would tell you he loved you and even though you didn't always believe that, that's what he offered and you just took it. You always thought that that was everything you deserved, better a bit of affection than no affection at all.
So you didn't expect to find Jisung waiting for you the next morning. He's outside of his car, scrolling on his phone, leaning against the vehicle.
You close your front door slowly, like he can just disappear if you make any hasty movements. As if Jisung can feel your presence, he lifts his eyes looking in your direction, smiling and waving to you.
“Fancy seeing you here”, he jokes, tilting his head when you come closer.
“In front of my… house?” You ask, smiling and he shrugs, embarrassed. He didn't really think it through, he just got into his car and when he realized, he was in front of your house.
“I just thought we could go to school together”, he kicks a rock on the ground, losing confidence, “but it's okay if you don't want to”
You step closer to him, taking his hand into yours and interlacing your fingers. That sudden electricity from before running through all your body the moment you touch him.
“Maybe you can convince me”, you tilt your head, biting on your lower lip while looking at his lips, looking extremely kissable.
“How?” His head snaps to look at you, following your gaze and understanding what you're suggesting. He feels his ears warm, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his.
Jisung kisses you, the warmth of his touch spreading all over your body. His tongue brushes against your lips and one of his hands slides through your hair, pulling it lightly.
You open your mouth slowly, too intoxicated by his scent to think clearly, putting your hands on his hips, sliding up just to find his deliciously small waist that you could never notice with the baggy clothes he wears.
“Well, you're full of surprises, aren't you?” You say when you two finally part the kiss.
He frowns, looking at you breathless.
“Shall we?” You ask, pointing at the car and he nods, turning around and opening the door for you. Before going in, you look at him, a playful smile on your lips. “You'll get me to do a lot of things if you keep using these means of persuasion”
For the first time in your life you don't want the spotlight to be on you, you feel uncomfortable being the center of attention. You know exactly why people are staring when you arrive at school with Jisung.
You wish you were being judged by showing up with a new guy barely a month after breaking up with Seunghoon, but that's not it.
People are looking at Jisung, you know they are. You don't mind the snickering comments or the idiotic jokes directed at you, but you don't want him to go through that.
“Should we have lunch together?” He asks you, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Actually, I don't know if I'll have lunch today”, you lie. If you think logically, you should try to stay away from him at school. Maybe people won't target him if you do that.
“Do you want me to take you home after school, then?” He asks, frowning, finding your sudden change of attitude strange.
“There's no need, I have practice”, you avoid his eyes, ashamed of yourself.
You're an idiot, you shouldn't have made such hasty decisions. You should have thought about how mean people would be to him if you brought him into the spotlight with you.
Jisung feels his stomach sinking in and he can't help but take a look at himself, he never really cared about the way he dressed. He wears anything that he finds that's clean, not worried about looking good or fashionable.
He has always been the smart guy, the one who has no care in the world other than the things he has his eyes set on and that has always been his studies and music.
His family was shocked when he chose a career in music since he could do anything else. He has the brains to choose any path that had success guaranteed but he chose something as uncertain as a career in the music industry.
He did end up being successful anyway, after meeting his friends and forming 3racha, it didn't take long for them to land a contract with a big label. The three of them stayed in college though, each for a different reason.
Looking at you though, you're very different from him. You worry about your image and what people think about you. If he looks at you, from your hair to your shoes everything is matched to perfection. You're always nice with everyone, even with the people you know talk shit about you and you still keep your grades up.
So why, someone who worries so much about her image would want to be seen with someone like him?
He never worried about his clothes or being popular, but now? He's very worried about those exact things. If you end up dating him, how will people perceive you? You're the center of attention so the person who's dating you, automatically will be in that same center.
Jisung decides to wait for you after practice, he knows you told him not to, but he knows that if he stays in his head, he'll go crazy – thinking about all the worst case scenarios where you're going to dump his ass anytime now just because he's not popular enough.
You smile when you see him but it dies down a few seconds later, when a group of girls from your cheer squad walks past you, laughing about something.
“Hey”, he says when you get closer.
“You didn't have to pick me up”, you say awkwardly, hoping he didn't hear what those girls said.
“Yeah, but I thought you would be too tired to walk back home-”
“It's just a short walk”, you tell him, pressing your lips in a thin line. He stares at you for a moment, frowning, debating in his mind if he should say something about your strange behavior and knowing that if he doesn't, it will eat him alive.
“Y/N?” He starts, voice too serious, “are you embarrassed because of me?”
Jisung really doesn't want to hear your answer, it would crush him if you said yes but he has the slight hope that you will deny it.
“No! No, absolutely not”, you shake your head frantically. He feels a huge weight being lifted off his back but at the same time, he still doesn't understand why you were acting like that.
“But then why-” you cut him mid sentence, taking a deep breath. Bold of you to assume that a person as smart as him wouldn't notice how you were acting.
“People can be really mean”, you tell him, “I'm afraid you're going to go through a hard time because of me”, you pout, feeling like crying. What if he agrees with you? What if he doesn't think you're worth the trouble?
“Why would you think that?” He searches for your hands, holding them and pulling you closer.
“If you date me, people are going to talk about you and I don't want you to hear the same things I have to”, you tell him, honestly.
Popularity is great, you love the attention but it has its downsides. The amount of times you had to listen to people talking shit about you in the restroom, when they didn't know you were there, is wild. You lost count of how many times you walked in on a conversation of someone talking something bad about you and you had to pretend like you didn't know.
You don't want Jisung to experience that, he's invisible now and he enjoys that, it's not fair that you would take him out of his comfort zone just to date you.
“What about you?” He asks, making you look at him with a frown. “You don't care that I don't know how to dress and that I’m basically invisible?”
You smile. Against your better judgment you don't, you really don't.
“I mean, if you could just let me take you to a hairstylist”, you say, lifting your hand to his face and brushing his hair to the side. “I really want to be able to look at your eyes while talking to you”, you joke.
“Ouch”, he puts his hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt. “I don't care what people say about me, okay? I only care about what you think”, he informs you, as if he didn't make that clear already.
“Are you sure?” You ask once more, giving him a chance to escape, even though you don't want him to.
“I am”, he nods, pulling you even closer and wrapping his arm around your waist. “So, can I have lunch with you from now on? And take you to and back from school? Hm?”
You nod, smiling happily.
“I'd love that”
You decide to let people talk, if Jisung doesn't care about it then neither will you, and let's say that after that conversation things just got hotter between you two.
Classrooms, cars, under the bleachers, the locker rooms, there's no place where your makeout sessions didn't reach. You just can't really behave yourself in his presence, when you two are alone you just have to touch each other and after that you just can't help what comes next.
Everyday. Before, between and after classes you're all over each other. You're covered in hickeys, your hair is always a mess and lipstick just won't last on your lips for long. Jisung is no better than you, the only difference is that he can hide the love bites more easily and his flustered face is less noticeable than yours.
You are both in his car trying to get to the restaurant before one of you yields and try to touch the other, when his phone rings.
“Hey”, he says, putting on speaker while he keeps driving.
“I’m sorry to call, I know you're on a date”, you hear Chan's tired voice on the other side of the line, “but my laptop died for whatever reason and the song we prepared to send tomorrow morning was there, I didn't have time to make a backup”, he sighs.
“We lost everything?” Han asks, panic in his voice.
“No, we have the unfinished version on Changbin's laptop but we lost what we worked on yesterday”, Chan explains and Han nods, even though his friend can't see him.
“Okay, yeah, I can go there and-”, he stops mid sentence, looking at you puzzled. “You are out of the city, right?” He asks Chan.
“Yes and Changbin has a test tomorrow, he won't be able to do it”
“Can I go to the studio with you?” You ask and Han nods, confused. “Then we are going to be there soon, Chan, don't worry”, you tell.
“Thank you”, Chan sighs, giving his goodbye and hanging up.
“Are you sure?” Jisung asks, watching you pick up your phone in your purse.
“Yeah”, you shrug, “we can have dinner in a fancy restaurant another time”, you say, calling the said restaurant so you can cancel your reservation.
Jisung watches you talking calmly with the restaurant, feeling grateful, you didn't have to be so understanding.
“Should we order some fried chicken?” You ask, after hanging up, “unfortunately they won't give us a refund”
“It's okay”, Jisung chuckles, “and I'd love fried chicken”
“To tell you the truth, fancy stuff is not my cup of tea”, you tell him, “I much rather have some chicken and beer”
“Well, my lady”, he smiles at you, “luckily for you I know a great place that sell exactly those things”
You watch Jisung work, he looks so professional while doing whatever he's doing. He's focused, a few strands of hair falling slightly over his eyes. His hands work fast, mixing, going back and forth and fixing different parts.
You sit there on the couch, waiting for him to finish. One, two, three hours go by. It's one in the morning when he sighs, closing the laptop and turning his chair towards you.
“Are you done?” You ask, hopeful and Jisung nods, standing up and walking to the couch, sitting comfortably on your side, resting his head on the back of the couch. Eyes closed trying to rest his eyes. “Did you make a backup?” You tease, watching him open his eyes slowly, turning his head to look at you.
“I did”, he chuckles, “and sent the backup to Changbin and Chan too”
“That's good”, you tell him, snuggling closer.
“Sorry that we didn't have a proper date”, he says.
“Don't be sorry. I think this is great”, you shrug, “I had good food and got to see you looking hot while working, that sounds like a win win for me”
Jisung laughs, shaking his head to your antics.
“Still, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just let me know”, he tells you.
That's when you realize Han Jisung doesn't know you at all, this man shouldn't give someone like you an opening like that.
“Oh, in that case”, you bite your bottom lip. “I have some ideas of how you can make it up to me”
You lean closer to him, face centimeters away from his.
“You could start with this”, you give him a peck on the lips, “and then you can go down here”, you kiss his jaw, going down to his neck, “then you can use your imagination here”, you suck on the skin that already has purple ish marks fading away.
“Is that right?” Eyes darkening, his hands land on your hips, pulling you closer.
“Mmn”, you agree with a shit eating grin on your face.
“And what about this?” He grabs your hips, bringing you to his lap. Your cheeks grow hotter, he's so much more bold than when you started seeing each other. “Do you like it?” He tilts his head, brows arched and a smirk on his lips.
“Where did the guy that freaked out about the thought of receiving nudes go?” You pout, you hate that he can so easily get you flustered.
Jisung throws his head back, chuckling while looking down on you. He tightens the grip on your hips, pressing your body closer to him. You can feel something hard beneath you and that doesn't help you at all, your face growing even more red.
“I had to change my approach when I realized you like to tease”, he brings his face closer to yours, “but you have no experience with being teased”, he smiles, seeing your breathing halt. You're cute.
He kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, rubbing your aching core on his hard on. You gasp, feeling the sudden stimulation but he keeps his lips on you, tongue brushing on yours slowly making you dizzy.
Jisung slides his hands to your thighs, pulling your skirt up so he can grab the flesh of your ass and squeeze it.
“Hannie”, you whisper, feeling his cock pressing against your clothed clit, making the knot in your lower stomach grow.
“Hm?” He asks, Jisung just loves when you use that nickname to call him. “Are you enjoying yourself, pretty?” He teases and you nod, moving your hips on your own, chasing your high.
You look at Jisung, brushing the strands of hair out of his eyes, biting on your lower lip before kissing him. You look so majestic riding him, he has no words so he tries to show you how turned on he is by kissing you with all the lust he has in himself. Hands on your hips forcing you closer to him, stimulating you more.
“I-I'm c-close”, you struggle to say, feeling all the heat spreading all over your body as you bend down and bite his shoulder to contain the loud moan you let out.
Jisung wraps his arms around your waist, snuggling his face into your neck and leaving kisses on your sweaty skin. You're kind of embarrassed, you didn't think you would be doing something like that in a place like here.
“Next time let me hear you, yeah?” He teases and you groan, slapping his arm.
“No, what if someone heard me?” You protest and he smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“There's no one here at this hour”, he reassures you, “but anyone that ever heard you moaning should thank you, baby”, he gives a peck on your lips, biting your bottom lip.
“You didn't finish, right?” You sigh, closing your eyes to the feeling of his cock still hard as a rock beneath you.
“Don't worry about it”, he shrugs, “I got to make you cum, that's enough for me”, he smirks, too proud of himself but you have your own pride, no way you're going to let him see you like this and not do the same.
“Can I touch you?” You ask, getting out of his lap and comfortable by his side on the couch, waiting for his answer so you can unzip his pants.
“You don't need to feel obligated”, he says but clears his throat when you glare at him, “yeah, you can”
You waste no time, working on opening his pants and pulling his underwear down to see his painfully hard cock, he's bigger than you thought he would be. You feel your core throbbing once more, just thinking about how you're going to make him fit inside you, that won't be easy but you're sure you can manage.
You grab his length with your hand, making him jump and whine. ‘What a beautiful sound’, you think.
Your hand starts moving up and down and you watch as Jisung throws his head back, mouth open, low moans coming out and eyes closed as he approaches his orgasm. He looks so pretty like that, so you get closer, leaning over and kissing him. Jisung groans, thrusting his hips against your fist, making even more lewd noises while you just watch him, face so close you can feel his breath hitting on your skin.
When his movements start faltering, he can feel his release and in a moment later his hot cum is spreading all over your hand.
“Fuck”, he says, ears turning red instantly when he comes down of his high. “I usually take longer”, he explains nervously, making you chuckle.
“I didn't say anything”, you shrug, finding his anxious eyes too cute.
“I'm serious”, he pouts, zipping his pants back on.
“Me too”, you chuckle, “you took way longer than most guys do, there was a hot girl humping on you and you didn't cum, that's a feat in itself”, you tell him and he bites back a smile, you're such an idiot. But cute, definitely cute.
Jisung watches as you get up, looking for the bathroom so you can clean yourself and he finds himself smiling alone, thinking of you. What are you doing to him? And why does he not mind it at all?
It doesn't take long for Seunghoon to find out who's the guy you're going out with and he doesn't waste any time to come and find you, being the asshole he is.
You're having lunch with Mina and Miyeon when you feel that familiar arm on top of your shoulders, his scent is the same, so there's no mistaking it.
“You didn't tell me the guy you're seeing is Han Jisung”, Seunghoon’s snarky voice feels like a knife being thrown at you. You grab his arm, tossing away from you, his touch makes you sick.
“Didn't think I owed you a full report of who I'm dating now”, you say back, rolling your eyes.
“Well, I mean”, he sneers, “I thought your standards were higher”
You feel your face turning red, not from embarrassment, no, it's anger, the only reaction this man can get out of you now.
“Of course my standards are higher”, you take a deep breath, knowing very well that if you punch him in the face right now, he's going to win. “That's why I went for someone much better than you”, you roll your eyes.
“Please, in what world that guy is better than me?” He laughs and you can't help but chuckle.
“I sure could tell you all the things he's better than you, but I don't think people really need to know about how disappointing you are in bed and outside of it too”, you finish, standing up. “Ah”, you turn to him before you can walk away, “don't come looking for me again, Jisung can get very jealous”
Walking home you're foaming at the mouth, who does he think he is to talk about Jisung in that way? Oh, you really wish you could have beat the hell out of him, fucking bastard. Well, fuck him, you're better off without that prick and you hope you don't have to think about him ever again.
As soon as you get home, you hear voices inside your house coming to the conclusion that your parents are home, as if things couldn't get worse.
You take a deep breath before turning the knob to open the door, meeting uninterested looks when you walk by the kitchen.
“Why did you arrive so late?” Your mom asks, not really looking at you now, much more interested in her phone.
“I had practice”, you say, opening the fridge to grab an apple. You're hungry but if you have to eat with them you're sure you're gonna have indigestion.
“Shouldn't you be studying?” Your father accuses you. “Your brother is the best student in every one of his classes”
“Well if I had that many expensive tutors I would be the best too”, you mumble, receiving a raised brow from the older man. “I don't have any exams for the time being”, you sigh, excusing yourself but before you can cross the door out of the kitchen you hear your mom's voice.
“We are going to travel again tomorrow, we just came home to get some things”, you nod, that's nothing new.
Jisung is walking back and forth in the living room of his apartment, waiting anxiously for Chan and Changbin to be back from their morning workout session.
You didn't see it, but Jisung was there at the dining hall. He froze dead in his tracks the moment he saw Seunghoon sitting with you, all the worst case scenarios coming to his mind. Did you go back to him? You wouldn't, right?
It's true that you and Jisung don't have anything official yet, but it looked like you liked him, so even though his brain was having a field day telling him you never once enjoyed being with him, it's hard for him to actually believe you would put him aside just like that.
He can hear everything, Seunghoon isn't trying to be quiet and he's saying the exact things you were afraid Jisung would hear. He doesn't care about people talking shit about him, the only thing he cares about is what you think about him and the way you just straight away told off your ex’s makes Jisung proud of you, proud of being with you.
However, even though you don't mind all the talks and mean comments, he does. He doesn't want to harm your reputation or more importantly he doesn't want to hurt you. So Jisung made the decision to become someone better, he wants to be better for you. So when his friends open the front door, carrying their gym bags, they bump into a restless Jisung.
“Can you help me?” He asks, making Changbin and Chan look at each other and nod, sitting down with their youngest to talk.
It's been years since the three met each other and every once in a while they tried to convince Jisung to accept their advice so he could be more popular.
It was exhausting, really, Jisung only cared about music and finishing college. His routine was basically going from the studio to university to home. Work, study and sleep, those are the things he usually cares about. So it was nice seeing him going out, meeting you. He's been happier recently and it's nice for them to see him trying to improve himself for you even though they both doubted your intentions at first.
“What do you have in mind?” Chan asks.
“She- hm… she said my hair is too long?” He says, a bit embarrassed.
“We've been telling you this for months”, Changbin whines.
“Well, I think I should get a haircut and buy some new clothes”, Jisung huffs.
“Shouldn't you ask y/n to help you out with that? I'm sure she would love that”, Chan grins.
“I want to surprise her”, the younger one smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
“Okay, then”, Chan nods, “give us time to take a shower-”
“And eat”, Changbin adds.
“And eat, then we can go”, Chan laughs, standing up and walking to his room.
Jisung didn't talk much with you for two straight days, he only answered the texts you sent him and every time you asked if he wanted to meet, he said he had other plans. You started to worry that maybe word got out about your little scene with Seunghoon that day, maybe Jisung got the wrong idea about you socializing with your ex.
You didn't think you would miss him so much, but you kept checking your phone to see if he had texted you and waited until late at night for a call but it never came.
Maybe Jisung could see right through you, under this facade you put on. Maybe he doesn't want someone as lonely as you, someone who needs his warmth to keep going.
You try distracting yourself with anything, staying after practice to train a new routine. After killing some time, you store the things you used for practice and go out.
When you're closing the gymnasium, you feel a familiar presence close to you, making you turn around with a businesslike smile on your face.
“How can I help… you?” You choke on the air you just breathe. “Jisung?” You ask, speechless.
“The one and only”, he chuckles seeing your shocked face.
“What happened?” You even struggle to speak.
He's the same, but different? His hair is shorter, fixed in a nice hairstyle and his clothes are fitting him perfectly, like they were custom made.
“Do you not like it?” He asks, worried, hands patting his body trying to understand where it went wrong.
“No, no!” You blurt out, fast. “I like it, you look really good”, you don't actually have words to describe how delicious he looks, he already had you hot and bothered before, what are you going to do now? It's impossible to not want to jump his bones right this instant.
“Then?” He waits for you to continue, taking a step towards you, making you instantly take a step back. You're not sure if you'll be able to hold yourself back if he gets too close and you don't want the first time you fuck to be in the school's locker room.
“Why did you change?” You ask, trying to think more clearly.
“I'm trying to become boyfriend material for you”, he grabs your hand, holding it with his. “I even made social media accounts”, he smiles.
“But you were already perfect”, you whisper it slowly, brows knit together. Did you make him feel like he wasn't?
He sighs.
“I heard what your ex said that day”, he says, biting his bottom lip. “I don't want you going out of your way to shield me from mean comments, I want people to envy you for dating me, the same as there are dozens of guys that hate me because I got you”, he tilts his head, waiting for you to process what he just said.
“As long as you're not uncomfortable”, you say, trying to find any sign of hesitancy on his face.
“Not at all”, he tells you, “Chan and Binnie helped me buy nice clothes that are comfortable. Also, if I become more popular, It'll help 3racha”, he shrugs.
“Okay”, you nod nervously, not really knowing what to do next.
“Are you sure I look good?” He asks, playfully, seeing the way you're avoiding his eyes. Jisung takes a step closer, making you take a step back once more just for you to bump into the closed doors of the gymnasium. “Oh? Why do I get the feeling that you are thinking about running away?”
“Pff, me?” You scoff, “of course not”, you shake your head frantically.
He tsks, reaching for your waist and wrapping his arm around you.
“You know, a strong denial is like an affirmation in some cases.” Jisung says, bending down to your height, brushing his lips on yours but before you can lose yourself on his hold, you lift your hands pressing them against his chest and pushing him away.
“Can- can you not?” You huff, you can't believe you're even stuttering, you almost gave in. Almost.
You ended up giving in and it didn't take him much to convince you. Jisung was driving and you were anxiously waiting to arrive home, a cold shower and maybe a sex toy would do the trick. Everything was alright until he put his hand on your knee, sliding it up and down on your thigh. Did he get a new personality together with the makeover? He knows exactly what he's doing because he has that damn smirk plastered on his lips.
You didn't change from your cheer uniform since you had no energy and just wanted to get home to anxiously wait for Jisung's contact and now you regret it. It feels a thousand times more painful to have his hands touching the bare skin of your thighs. Each time that his hand comes up it gets closer to your core like he's testing the waters to see where you're willing to let him go.
What he still doesn't seem to know is that you're more than willing to let him go all the way and as soon as his hand gets too close to your throbbing core, you hold your breath as if that could do anything to help.
Jisung plays with the hem of your safety shorts without a care in the world, like he doesn't have you all turned on and your panties are not soaked.
“Stop the car”, you say through gritted teeth.
He glances at you before parking, making you want to rip that shit eating grin off of his face with a punch.
“What's wrong?” He asks cynically, unfastening his seatbelt to turn to you, his hand still caressing your thigh.
“You don't want to go there, Han Jisung”, you tell him, grabbing his arm to try and force his hand to stop touching you.
“Don't I?” He smiles, biting his bottom lip. You look so sexy saying his full name like that and he gets the urge to make you moan it. “I think I do”
“I hate you”, you groan, reaching to grab his collar and pulling him to you, making your mouths crash in a hungry kiss. You missed having him so close to you, his free hand cups your face and Jisung deepens the kiss, feeling your tongue caressing his so eagerly.
His other hand is working its way into your shorts, he's desperate to feel you on his fingers and as soon as he manages to get his hands under your panties, he can already feel your wetness leaking out of your sweet pussy.
“Shit”, he groans, disconnecting his lips from yours. “Are you usually this wet? Or is it just for me?” He asks shamelessly, making your whole face turn red.
You keep silent, trying to breathe normally again. It's embarrassing, how can someone provoke this kind of reaction out of you like this?
He chuckles, a dark deep chuckle while he slides his hand to your head to pull your hair.
“Cat got your tongue, pretty?” He asks, kissing you on the cheek at the same time as he places two fingers inside you, making you whimper. He pouts, tilting his head. “I'm sorry, you are so wet I thought you could handle two”
“Oh”, you feel your breathing out of pace and Jisung starts moving his fingers in and out of you. “J-jisung”, you moan, feeling his thumb circling around your clit. His fingers work fast, in and out of your hole, feeling you clenching around them. You're so tight, he can't wait to feel you around his cock.
His hair is all disheveled, pretty pink lips half open watching you becoming undone right in front of him. You want to stop him, you don't want to give him the satisfaction of ruining you so easily, but he's so handsome, his eyes are looking at you so deeply just waiting for you to come on his fingers.
The moment your whole body trembles, you close your eyes to the pleasure spreading all over you. You glare at him, panting and dizzy, seeing him take his fingers out of you and taking them straight to his mouth, licking them like a starved man.
“You taste as sweet as you look”, he tells you, fastening his seatbelt and starting the car again, driving back to the road like nothing happened.
“What about you?” You ask, seeing his obvious hard on.
“I think we had enough fun for today”, he glances at you, winking. It makes you sink in your seat, feeling your face turning red and the butterflies in your stomach. Jisung hopes you didn't realize that he would cum with a simple touch of yours, if he had your delicate hand around him one more time he wouldn't be able to last long, even less if he could feel your sweet lips on his cock, so he chose to avoid that embarrassment.
You feel excited from the moment you wake up and as a person who doesn't like waking up early that's a very difficult thing to achieve. But when you opened your eyes, groaning and exhausted, you picked up your phone to turn off the alarm just to find a few texts from Jisung saying he would be coming to pick you up.
That definitely left you excited, so you jumped out of the bed, grabbing a towel and running to the bathroom to take a quick shower. After finishing your bath, you get your hair done and choose the cutest clothes you have in your wardrobe.
The moment you go out, you see Jisung waiting for you outside of your house. He's looking good, leaning on his car with his hands in his pockets while he waits for you to walk to him.
“It should be illegal for someone to look this nice at this hour”, you try teasing him, to see if you can make him flustered.
“I was going to say the same”, he answers, checking you out, shamelessly and you are the one with a red face in the end, so you just give him a peck on the lips, trying to hide your embarrassment while getting into the car.
The ride to school is calm, you're nervously anticipating how people are going to act when they see you two, when they see Jisung.
Everyone stops to stare at you, at the same time as you want to hide from the prying eyes, you understand. Honestly, if you saw Han Jisung walking around looking like that you would stop to stare at him too.
He holds your hand, interlacing your fingers and leading you inside, a huge grin on his face, proud that he got the reaction he wanted. This was his plan, he wants you to show him off, he wants you to feel proud to be by his side and more than anything, he wants everyone to know you're his now.
He leaves you in your classroom, giving you a goodbye kiss and promising to find you later so you can have lunch together.
“Who was that?” Mina asks, mouth agape.
“That's Jisung”, you tell her proudly.
“Well, how did you work your magic so fast?” Miyeon asks.
“Will you believe it if I tell you I didn't do a thing?”
“I guess just dating you is enough to change a person”, Mina jokes, making you roll your eyes.
“Should I take that as a compliment?” You ask playfully and she chuckles.
“I guess you'll win the bet more easily than I thought”, she says, sighing, pretending to be disappointed.
“Actually, about that I-”, you fidget with your hands, it's not easy for you to give up and after what you just went through with Seunghoon you surely don't want to admit that what you have with Jisung is more than you could anticipate, it's something special. “I want to call it off, the bet”, you finally say, making your friends exchange glances, confused. “I don't want to play games with him”, you finish, sitting by Miyeon's side.
“Well, I didn't think you would give up so easily”, Mina laughs, “you're such a softie, y/n”
You smile, remembering about Jisung's hands on you earlier this morning, trying not to blush too much.
“I'll win the captain title again fair and square”, you tell Mina, stretching a hand to her so she can shake it. “And about Seunghoon, I don't really care about him anymore”, you shrug.
Mina shakes your hand back proudly, she can see something different in you now and she's happy that maybe you're seeing in yourself all the potential she's been trying to convince you that you have for all these years.
You feel a little bit jealous. Now Jisung can barely walk more than three meters without someone greeting or hitting on him, you're pouting during lunch, playing with your food while he goes on and on about 3racha’s new track.
“Are you listening?” He asks, tilting his head while looking at you.
“I am”, you nod, even though you could barely understand what he was saying.
“You're acting weird again”, he sighs, lifting his hand to your chin and pulling your face so you can look at him. “Talk to me”
“It's nothing”, you are the one sighing now, “I'm just being stupid”
“Tell me then, I'll be the judge of that”, he pushes.
“It's just-” you can't help but sulk while talking, “Those girls were clearly hitting on you earlier and you didn't do anything about it”, you whine, “I'm being stupid because I'm not even sure what I wanted you to do in that situation, even so, I'm still feeling bad and angry”
Jisung can't hold back the big smile that grows on his lips, he leans closer to your face, supporting his elbow on the table.
“Is my baby jealous?”, he asks playfully, with a cute voice, making you pout even harder, crossing your arms.
“Stop that, I'm not”, you say, feeling your cheeks burning because of the pet name.
“If you're not jealous, then can I go and get their numbers?” He tests, making you glare at him. Jisung laughs, embracing you in a hug and kissing the top of your head. “In all seriousness, I didn't even notice they were hitting on me. I was so focused on just answering their questions so I could get the hell out of their sight, I'm sorry I made you feel bad”, he clarifies.
You sigh, wrapping your arms around him and relaxing in his embrace.
“Don't apologize, I was being ridiculous”
Jisung breaths out, pulling away from your embrace and cupping your face with his hands. He stares at you for a few seconds, trying to use the right words to speak to you.
“You should definitely stop invalidating what you feel. What you feel is not ridiculous or stupid”, he gives a peck on your lips, brushing his nose on yours. “You can always tell me about your feelings, I'll always listen to you. So don't say things like that, alright?”
You want to cry, you want to smile, you want to hug him and never let go. So you snuggle in his embrace, nodding and mumbling about how he shouldn't get too close to other girls, making him smile while he kisses the top of your head. What did you do to deserve someone like him?
After finishing your lunch you two get up, carrying your trays back to their place and talking about what ice cream you should buy since you have a free afternoon. However, when you cross the doors to the dining hall, you bump directly into Seunghoon, causing a minute of awkward silence between you three. No apologies, just your ex staring at Jisung like he's trying to win a staring contest or something like that.
“Long time no see, y/n”, Seunghoon smiles to you, as if you didn't basically tell him to fuck off a few weeks ago. “I see you're accompanied, I'm Seunghoon, a friend of y/n”, he stretches his hand to shake Jisung's.
“I know who you are”, Jisung says, shaking the other man's hand. The hostility in the atmosphere is palpable but before you can excuse yourself, Seunghoon's voice is heard once more.
“Y/N promised that she would go on a double date with me and my girlfriend”, he recalls, “now that we are acquainted I feel like we can set a date”, he smiles and if you didn't know him you'd think he's genuinely interested in having a double date with friends.
“Sure, just let me know the day and time and we'll be there”, Jisung answers before you have the chance to deny.
You watch as Seunghoon chuckles, nodding and giving his goodbye. Your stomach sinking in, you have a bad feeling about this.
“What was that about?” You ask Jisung, brows knit together in confusion.
“What was what?”
“Don't play with me, Han Jisung”, you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest and he sighs, biting on his bottom lip.
Jisung may or may not have regretted it the moment he accepted without checking with you first, but your ex just makes him so mad. The fact that he's not at least a bit apologetic about what he did to you just doesn't sit right with Jisung, how could he break your heart and nonchalantly show up in front of you asking for a double date with the girl he cheated on you with. Fuck him.
“I'm sorry”, Jisung sighs, sulking. “I should have checked with you but I just felt so angry”
You stare at him for a moment, sighing. That sucks, it seems you can't stay mad at him for too long.
“It's fine, I'm sure he would bother us until we accepted it”, you say, grabbing his arm to force him to carry on your walk. “Shall we go shopping for some couple outfits today?” You smile at him, that's going to be his punishment.
Or at least it should have been, so why does Jisung look so excited with every piece of clothing you try on? He looks very happy to buy things for him but not nearly as much as when he's watching you.
You ended up buying a couple's pajamas and for the date — that Seunghoon didn't lose any time scheduling for Friday — you got a bracelet with a pendant that resembles a ferris wheel, the place you two kissed for the first time.
“Shall we go to the amusement park again?” He asks, raising your hand high enough for him to look at the bracelet.
He sees your eyes shine to that simple mention and he smiles when you nod frantically.
“There were so many rides we didn't get to go because it was too crowded”, you say excitedly, “We have to go on the roller coaster”
“We do?” He chuckles nervously, “that thing is kinda scary”
“Of course we do!” You stop in your tracks, making him look at you. “I'll hold your hand the whole time, so you have nothing to worry about.”
You say, confidently and oddly enough, Jisung feels really reassured with your words.
“Oh, you're my knight in shining armor”, he sighs dramatically. “What would I do without you? Hm?”
He uses the hand he's holding to pull you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing your bodies against each other. Jisung gives you a peck on the lips, smiling when he sees you blushing.
“You better always keep me close to you”, you tell him, avoiding his eyes. “So I can protect you”
“Mmn”, he agrees, snuggling his face in the crock of your neck, “I'll keep you always in arm's length”
The dreadful Friday arrives too fast, when neither you or Jisung wanted it to come. You try not to think too much about the way you're dressed, you don't want your ex to think you dressed up for him. Jisung on the other hand, wants to look his best so Seunghoon can swallow back all the things he said about you, knowing that you did in fact find someone better.
“Ready?” He asks you when you get into the car.
“Can't we just stand them up?” You ask, hopeful, while fastening your seatbelt.
“Let's just stay for thirty minutes, then I can pretend I received a call and we have to go”, he grabs your hand and kisses it, “how does that sound?”
“Sounds good”, you nod, smiling at him. But that damn feeling that something just isn't right keeps bothering you.
Jisung drives slowly, trying to avoid the unavoidable. It should be fine, nothing is gonna go wrong, it's just anxiety trying to make him paranoid.
Seunghoon chose a fancy restaurant, Jisung is only used to going to places like that when he meets someone from the label, together with Chan and Changbin. He doesn't really like fancy places, he wanted to take you there on a date because he thought that was something you would like but in the end you're not into that either.
“I should probably tell you right now that this restaurant is where Seunghoon asked me to be his girlfriend”, you tell Jisung as soon as he parks in front of the place your double date is supposed to happen.
“What?” Jisung asks, confused.
“I didn't want to believe before we actually arrived but I knew I recognized that address when you showed it to me”, you explain. “I think he just wants to brag, he'll try to get under your skin for sure. Maybe he'll try to talk about the time we dated, that would be a dick move since his girlfriend is gonna be there but he is a dick so I don't expect less from him”, you start to ramble nervously.
“It's okay, you're with me now”, he reassures you one more time, grabbing your hand and squeezing it, “we are gonna go there, hear whatever he has to say and in thirty minutes we are out and we can even go to a real date just the two of us”, Jisung tilts his head waiting for your confirmation and you nod, leaning closer and kissing him.
“That sounds great, you are great”, you tell him
Awkward, stifling, suffocating. Those are the words that better describe how the dinner began on that night. Seunghoon was late but his girlfriend was already there so you had to awkwardly sit there with the girl your ex boyfriend cheated on you with. You are a good person and you don't want to cause a scene, especially because you don't really care about your ex anymore so you feel a bit grateful to this girl who took that bomb away from you.
“I liked your stunt on the last game”, she says, sheepishly while picking on her nails.
“Ah, yes. We worked for three months to come up with that one”, you answer, sipping on your cup of water and cursing Seunghoon in your mind. Where the hell is he?
Except that when Seunghoon waltzed inside the restaurant, you knew exactly why he was late. The look of utter disappointment on his face told you everything you needed to know, he wanted you two to fight over him. You wanna laugh. Did he really expect to come in late just to find his ex and current girlfriend grabbing each other by the hair or yelling at each other? What a fucking loser.
He probably didn't expect to see Jisung's arms wrapped around your waist, leaning so close to you or the whispers and giggles that were never common in your relationship with him.
“Where have you been?” His girlfriend asks while he sits down but he doesn't even look at her, eyes fixed on you and Jisung.
“Something happened”, he brushes off, vaguely. “Let's order?”
You and Jisung exchange confused looks, nodding to him.
“Oh, this is the place where we started dating, right?” Seunghoon asks, after the waiter takes your order, pretending like he didn't know about it when he set the date there.
“Yeah”, you sigh, eyeing Jisung, already knowing where your ex was trying to go with that.
“You loved the pasta here, why didn't you order that?” He asks and you glance at his girlfriend who's glaring at him.
“I didn't like the pasta, you did”, you sigh, feeling Jisung's pulling you a little closer to him, making you look at him to see the man smiling at you. You release the air you didn't even notice you were holding and you realize how stiff your whole body is, why does Seunghoon make you so nervous? It didn't feel this way the other day when you met him by yourself. It's just that you have the feeling that he has an ulterior motive to this dinner, other than just bragging about his new relationship.
He looks mad at your answer, even more mad because of how close Jisung is to you. You used to be like that with him, grasping at the slightest bit of affection he would give you. He thought you would come back to him eventually, Seunghoon thought you would forgive him, would depend on him once more so why didn't you? Why don't you need him anymore?
“I heard something funny”, he grabs everyone's attention suddenly. “Heard that you're only dating him because of a bet?” He sneers.
Your heart stops at that moment.
“What?” You ask, immediately turning to Jisung who looks frozen, staring at Seunghoon.
“Yeah, one of my friends heard the funniest conversation in one of his classes”, he laughs, “I’m sure you already know about it, right?” He asks Jisung, raising a brow in amusement.
Jisung starts to shake, he can't look at you, not right now. But he also can't let Seunghoon win, it would be too humiliating for the both of you.
“Yeah, I knew about it”, he lies, feeling the least bit satisfied with the annoyed groan Seunghoon lets out. “I think you should start treating your girl better rather than taking care of y/n’s relationship”, he finishes, standing up. “I lost my appetite, let's go”, Jisung tells you, stretching his hand so you can hold it but his eyes don't look into yours.
Jisung doesn't say a word to you until he parks in front of your house and you were too scared to start the conversation but when he kept quiet even after ten minutes, only staring at the wheel in his hands, you couldn't take it anymore.
“I know I should have told you before, I-”
“So he was telling the truth?” He looks at you for the first time in the last hour and you wish he didn't, the hurt in his eyes makes your chest feel like someone is squeezing your heart. “You are low”, he spits.
You feel tears brimming in your eyes, you know you deserve that but at the same time you could never have imagined him treating you this way.
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry”, the tears start running down your face, “it started as a bet but I called it off, I swear” you try grabbing his hand so he can look at you but he snatches himself out of your grasp, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking outside. He's afraid he'll cry if he looks at you, he's scared he'll give in if he so much as glances at you.
“I need to think”, it's the only thing he says.
“Jisung, please, hear me out”, you plead once more but he doesn't look at you.
“I don't want to hear anything right now”, he tells you, stretching his body over yours to open your door, waiting for you to get out.
You step out of the car, glancing at him over and over, expecting him to change his mind but he doesn't and you watch as the car disappears far away on the road.
You only let yourself cry after closing the door to your room, even though there's no one else home, you still feel like you need to lock yourself up so you can feel anything.
You're such an idiot, you should have told him about the bet but it was something so meaningless that it didn't even cross your mind that you should come clean to him, in your head everything that mattered was that you liked him and that you called the bet off but you didn't take into consideration that he would feel hurt about that and that's what hurts the most.
You always talk about how Seunghoon did bad things to you, that he didn't have any regard towards you, but did you have any towards Jisung? You waltzed into his life, put him in the spotlight and made him open himself to you, but you couldn't take the time to think about how hurt he would feel if he found out about the circumstances that made you like him in the first place.
You feel guilty about everything, you wish you could turn back time and change everything but you can't, you can't go back and you can't make it up to him, you have to wait for him to forgive you or in the worst case scenario, for him to dump you and that hurts too much.
Jisung knew someone like you wouldn't like someone like him just because you thought he was cute, he knew that there was something behind your sweet words and harsh moves on him but he chose to ignore every signal, every flag and every warning his mind pointed out because he wanted to believe you. Jisung wanted to let himself like you, he wanted to be the one to protect you, the one whom you would call on every minor inconvenience you run into but in the end, he should have been the one being protected from you.
He can't believe he let himself fall for you, why would you even like him? At least he thought you did, he thought you felt happy when you were with him. Lies, everything was a huge lie and he wants to punch himself for letting you make a fool out of him like that.
A week goes by without news of Jisung, you see him walking through the school's corridors but you're too scared to approach him so you just watch as he keeps his routine everyday, like nothing happened, like you were never in his life.
Mina and Miyeon are making shifts to stay with you, if they don't you won't eat properly and you only sleep when the exhaustion is so much your body can't handle it anymore. You're scared he'll end things, but you're ready to beg if he tries too, you know Jisung is worth begging for.
On one of the rare moments you find yourself alone, you try to stay away from everyone else who are not your close friends. You're hiding in the building where Jisung has his classes, in hopes that you can see at least a glimpse of his face.
“Where have you been?” You hear an annoying voice right behind you, making you sigh while you turn around to see Seunghoon with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “You disappeared after our double date, did your new boyfriend really know about your bet?” He chuckles, making you want to punch him in the face. This is all his fault, if he didn't open his filthy mouth to say those things to Jisung you could have come clean to him and maybe this whole incident could have been avoided.
“Fuck you, Seunghoon”, you lose you composure, not really caring about winning this one, you just want to curse at him. “You cheated on me and then you tried to ruin my relationship and for what? Leave me the hell alone”, you spit out, walking past him but before you can go further you feel his grasp on your wrist, forcing you to turn around.
“You used to adore me, y/n, you were supposed to forget about everything and just stay with me so why did you rebel?”
“Oh, for fucks sake, I never ‘adored’ you, I just treated you like a good girlfriend should treat her boyfriend even though you have never done the same to me”, you try shaking your arm away from him but he doesn't let go. “I'm sick and tired of you, let go of me right now”, you pull your arm again with all your strength but he's grabbing you so strongly it's starting to hurt.
“Let's start over, yeah? I'll be good to you this time”, he asks, like he didn't hear anything you said.
“I have someone I really like now, nothing you do is gonna change that’, you groan, feeling your wrist sore. “I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore, just forget about me”
“Why do you always make everything so difficult-”, he tries to drag you away from the prying eyes who are starting to watch the scene unfolding, but you feel hands on your shoulders steadying you in place. Jisung walks in front of you, pushing Seunghoon and forcing him to let go of you.
“This doesn't concern you”, your ex says through gritted teeth.
“If it concerns y/n, it concerns me”, Jisung answers.
“Just because you got a little popular you think you can come up against me?” Seunghoon scoffs, coming closer to Jisung, challenging him.
“You're an idiot if you think you can just grab someone's girlfriend like that and don't get in trouble”, Jisung says, “if you have anything to discuss with her you can talk to me first”
“Don't be ridiculous, we can talk like grown ups. Right, y/n?” Seunghoon tries to come to you, but Jisung grabs him by the collar.
“Don't even fucking try”, Jisung glares at him, “if you get close to her one more time you're not gonna be able to play your next game”, he finishes, letting go of Seunghoon and pushing him away from you.
Seunghoon huffs and puffs but he knows he can't get into trouble if he wants to stay on the football team, so he curses you for the last time before turning around and walking away.
“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, looking around.
“Yeah, I'm fine”, you say, stepping closer to him but that's when you notice he's not looking at you and he's not even trying to hide that. “Thank you for helping me”, stepping back and stroking your wrist which hurts like hell. You want to cry but it's not from the pain coming from there, it's from the immeasurable ache coming from your chest.
“It's nothing”, he sighs, “try not to stay alone for now, you should stop coming here too”, he says, nodding to you before he's gone, walking away from you. Leaving you there, feeling empty.
“Should I be worried?” Chan asks Changbin, as soon as he sees the number of empty cans thrown in the center table in the living room. Jisung is seated on the floor looking at the TV but clearly not watching, he's just staring at it with an empty gaze.
“He's been like that since yesterday”, Changbin sighs, leaning over the kitchen counter while watching his younger friend open another can of beer. “You would have know if you had come back home”
“So, on the only night I sleep in my girlfriend's house, Han turns into an alcoholic?” Chan asks, ironically.
“He's been weird for a few days, I think he fought with y/n”, Changbin says, “I knew there was something going on.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“I tried, but he won't answer my questions or just sighs randomly while I'm talking”
“I'll try talking to him”, Chan says, looking at his friend who just shrugs, going back to wash the dishes.
The older one gets closer slowly, sitting on the couch and looking at Jisung for a moment, trying to see if he'll acknowledge his presence but it doesn't happen, the younger one doesn't even move.
“Hey, are you alright?” Chan asks, but there's no answer to his question. “Look, you know you can talk to us about anything, right?” He tries again, but still receives no answer, so he snatches Jisung's beer out of his hand, receiving a frustrated grunt from his friend.
“Give it back”, Jisung finally lets out.
“Talk to me”, Chan pleads.
“There's nothing to talk about”, Jisung shrugs. He should end things with you, even if it hurts, that's what he should do, right?
“Clearly there's something going on”, Chan says, “I won't leave you alone until you talk and you know I can be really annoying when I want to”
Jisung sighs, he knows that very well.
“She only asked me out because of a bet”, Jisung says, “y/n, I mean”
Chan sucks through his teeth, that's not a nice thing to do. But he can't really judge her when he did something similar when he started seeing his girlfriend, so he'll have to play devil's advocate this time.
“She ended things with you then? Because the bet is over or something like that?” He tries to push to know a bit more.
“No, her ex told me”, Jisung says, continuing when Chan frowns in confusion, “he was trying to get under my skin so we would fight”
“What about y/n?”
“She said she called it off and that she likes me”, he chuckles, “I don't believe her”
“Why not?” Chan asks, still confused. “Look, Han, what she did is shitty, okay? That's not open for discussion, but why are you doubting that she likes you? Shouldn't she use this opportunity to get out of this relationship now that you found out about the bet? Why would she lie about it? It doesn't make sense”, Chan points out.
“Why would someone like her like someone like me? I'm no one”, Jisung cries out, he knows Chan is right but he just can't let himself fall for your trap again, he can't handle it if you break his heart a second time.
“Now you're only letting your self doubt talk, what do you mean you're no one?” Chan sighs, “you're a great friend, you're smart and you're part of 3racha, you're talented as hell, Binnie and I would be nothing without you”, Chan says.
“Yeah, but she's so wonderful”, Jisung sighs, “she's kind and smart, she's funny and cute, she's the prettiest girl I have ever got to know”
“Did she ever tell you that you weren't those things too?”
“No”, the younger one looks at Chan with puppy eyes. “But still, why would she make a bet to date me if I wasn't a loser?”
“You should ask her that yourself”, Chan shrugs. “You know I did some questionable things to date my girl and I'm not proud of that, but I love her with all my heart. In the end, maybe what's important is what's on her heart right now and not when it started”
When you receive Jisung's text telling you he wants to meet up, you feel relieved. He's finally gonna talk to you but at the same time you feel anxious, he's very vague about what you're going to talk about so you can't ignore the possibility of him ending things.
You set the date in your house, you don't want to go to a public place just to end up a crying mess in front of everyone there. So you wait patiently until Jisung arrives, you bite all your nails, clean everything that can be cleaned even though it's already impeccable, you do anything that can ease your anxiety and make you less nervous.
Three knocks on the door make you jump from the couch, running to the entrance and opening the door in a fast swing.
You missed Jisung's face, his round cheeks look smaller than the last time you saw him and the eyebags under his eyes are huge. You are no different from that, you know you lost weight since your cheer uniform is big on you and you're breaking out in pimples because of the stress.
“Hi”, you say, awkwardly, giving space for him to enter.
“Hey”, he answers, waiting for you to guide him to wherever you want to talk.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Should you have offered? It's something you always do when you have guests.
“I'm good”, he answers again. “Can we cut to the chase?” He turns to you, arms crossed in front of his chest. That doesn't sound good, he doesn't look like he forgave you.
“Yeah”, you nod, bracing yourself for what's to come.
“Was everything a lie?” Jisung asks, biting his bottom lip. “Was anything you ever said real?”
“Yes it was, almost everything”, you take a step closer to him but he takes a step back, not ready to be so close to you yet. “Everything started as a bet, I wanted to make someone better than Seunghoon so I could make him jealous”, you sigh, feeling like an idiot.
“It was your idea?” He asks, staring at you.
“No, it was not my idea but I accepted it anyway”, you shake your head. “I know it's stupid, I know it is. But I fell in love with you and when I realized I didn't want to hurt you I called the bet off”, you explain.
“And when was that?”
“Three weeks ago”
He sighs, walking around for a minute, trying to think.
“How am I supposed to trust you now?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to rationalize, trying to find an excuse for you, so he can forgive you.
“You are-”, a sob leaves your lips as soon as you start talking, tears running down your cheeks, you didn't even notice you were crying. “You're the first person who ever showed me what love really is”, you try to explain.
“So, do you like me or do you like the way I make you feel?” He whispers, eyes pleading for your answer to not destroy the little bit of hope he still has on you.
“I like y- I love you”, you try holding his hands once more. “I never thought I could love someone the way I love you, Jisung. I love everything about you, I sleep thinking about you and I wake up thinking about you. When I'm eating something nice I always ask myself if you already ate or if you would like what I'm having. When I'm out having fun I always wish you were there with me. Whenever we go to different classes I miss you immediately and I count every second so I can see you again”, you squeeze his hand. “I’m not asking for you to forgive me right now but please don't leave me, please stay with me”, you plead, feeling the tears running down your face.
Jisung's heart breaks from listening to your cries and sobs, he wants to save his pride and leave you for good. But he can't, Jisung is so in love with you right now that even the thought of staying away from you hurts much more than how he hurt because of what you did.
So he kisses you, his hands cup your face as usual, like nothing ever happened, like you never stayed apart. You missed his warmth, his lips, his hands on your body, everything.
“I missed you”, you tell him, wrapping your arms around his waist, ready to never let go again.
“I missed you too”, he sighs, “and I love you too”
“I'm so sorry, I swear I'll never do anything to hurt you ever again”, you grasp his shirt, bringing him even closer to you.
He knows he shouldn't feel reassured by your promise, how could he? But he does, he's just stupid but that's the effect you have on him.
You sit together and you tell him everything. Why you started a bet and why you chose him, when you started to like him and why you didn't tell him about the whole situation before.
You also talk about how terrible it was for the both of you to stay apart for so long, how you were ready to beg him to forgive you and that made him laugh, that's something he could never imagine you doing.
In the end you're both exhausted. Days without sleeping properly finally come back to bite the both of you on the ass so you invite Jisung to stay over, needing to stay close to him more than usual. You two stare at each other for a moment while laying down together, you can't even believe he forgave you and that he's there with you.
Jisung brushes off the strands of hair falling over your eyes, caressing your cheek before leaning closer to kiss you for the last time before the both of you give in to the deep slumber that's waiting.
“I love you”, he whispers when you close your eyes, making you smile like an idiot.
“I love you too”, you say back to him, letting yourself fall into unconsciousness.
When the light coming through the windows hits your eyes, you start waking up, slowly trying to look around just to see a sleepy Jisung with his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He looks pretty even when he's sleeping, pouting a bit while he breathes quietly.
You can't hold yourself, so you lean closer giving a peck on his cheek.
“Hannie, wake up”, you whisper seeing his eyes flutter and his pout grows bigger.
“Just five more minutes”, he asks, pulling you even closer to him.
You sigh, deciding to let him sleep but when you try to get up the hold he has on your waist gets stronger.
“Where are you going?” He asks, opening his eyes.
“I was going to make some breakfast”, you say, watching him shaking his head and snuggling closer to you.
“No, I don't wanna. Stay here with me”, he whines.
“But what are we gonna eat?”
“We can order something”, he kisses your cheek, trailing kisses to your mouth and then to your neck, biting and sucking on the skin making you giggle and squirm in his embrace.
Jisung chuckles, kissing you. It's a slow, familiar kiss, one of his hands cupping your face and the other holds your waist pulling you closer. You put your hand on his hip, trying to find stability because you feel dizzy with his scent and his lips on you.
He parts the kiss so you both can breathe, but he keeps landing pecks on your jaw, neck and collarbone. His hands land on the rem of your shirt, he looks at you waiting for your permission and you nod, watching as he instantly pulls the piece of fabric out of you. Jisung bites his lower lip, staring down at your breasts, you look so beautiful he thinks that maybe he died and went to heaven.
The man leans closer, licking on your hard nipples, making you suck through your teeth, feeling his hot breath hit on your cold skin.
“Fuck”, you mutter when he bites lightly on the spot. Jisung chuckles, feeling your hands grabbing on his arms and your nails gripping on his skin. He keeps going down, leaving warm and wet kisses down your stomach, finding the waistband of your pajama pants and giving a kiss on both the sides of your hips before pulling the piece of clothing down.
He stares at your panties for a moment, it has bees printed on it and that makes him laugh.
“Do you like bees that much?” He asks, pulling the fabric down while he watches you squirm in embarrassment. You didn't think you'd have sex first thing in the morning so you didn't bother changing to something more sexy. You slap the palm of your hands in front of your eyes, covering your face. “You're cute”, he says, pulling your underwear down and kissing your right knee, then the left, “and so pretty.” You take one of your hands out of your eyes just to see Jisung staring right to your core. He's getting comfortable on the bed, positioning your legs over his shoulders while he grabs your hips with his hands to keep you in place.
Jisung doesn't lose time, kissing the inside of your thighs before licking your pussy, a long and wet strand that makes you immediately want to close your legs but his hands won't let you move. He slides one of his hands in between your legs, pressing a digit over your clit and then inserting the same finger inside you. Jisung sucks on your clit, circling the bud with his tongue while you stare at him, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth with so much strength it could draw blood.
“I can't get enough of your taste”, he says, using his free hand to clean around his mouth, licking his fingers soon after. “Can you handle another finger, baby?” He asks, cockily while you throw your head back, nodding frantically.
Jisung inserts a second finger, going back to suck on your sweet pussy, he feels like he could cum just by eating you out. His hip starts moving by itself while he searches for some friction, humping on the bed.
“Sungie”, you let out, hands landing on his head while you pull it closer to your cunt. “I'm close”, you squirm, feeling his tongue working faster and his fingers reaching places you never could. The knot on your stomach keeps growing until you feel like seeing stars, your legs shake uncontrollably and you moan loudly, eyes screwed shut.
Jisung groans, satisfied, it's so good to feel you cumming in his mouth, he could stay between your legs forever.
He trails kisses back to you, kissing your lips with such hunger you're not sure where it's coming from. You can feel your taste in his mouth and that only adds to the arousal you are still feeling even after an orgasm.
You look at his swollen lips and disheveled hair, thinking he's the prettiest man you have ever seen in your entire life. Your hands go to the rem of his shirt and in a swift move, you get it out of him, staring at his upper body like someone starved. You smirk, pushing him down so you can lean over him, doing the same as he did to you and trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, chest and stomach, until you see the path to your happiness. You pull his pants down, underwear going together, his hard cock springs hitting on his stomach, the head leaking with pre-cum, making you lick your lips, salivating just with the thought of all of that in your mouth.
You look at Jisung, he's waiting patiently for you to do something, anything and you like the feeling of having him in that place, wanting to be satisfied by you. You lean over, licking at his shaft from the base to the head before putting everything inside your mouth.
You can't feet all of him, so you grab the base stroking it up and down on the parts your mouth can't reach.
“Oh my god”, you hear his whimper, smiling to yourself because you're the one provoking that reaction out of him. You keep sucking on his cock, looking at him, Jisung has his head thrown back, lips slightly apart but he struggles to keep watching you, the image of you sucking on him is just too much for him, you're just too sexy, he can't handle it.
Jisung can feel his release approaching, he taps on your shoulder trying to catch your attention while you're so concentrated in sucking him off.
“I'm gonna cum”, he manages to let out but rather than stopping, you suck him even harder and stroking his cock with more resolution. In a moment you feel his hot cum spreading all over your mouth, making you smile while you swallow everything, opening your mouth and showing your tongue to him.
You come closer to him, kissing him the same as he did to you and he can feel his taste on your tongue.
“Fuck, you're so hot”, he says as soon as he splits the kiss between the two of you.
“It's all for you”, you whisper, leaning close to his ear. Jisung smiles, you're going to make him go insane.
“Do you have any condoms?” He asks, hastily, grabbing you by the hips and making you sit on his lap. You nod, leaning over the nightstand to open the drawer, showing him the package.
“But I'm on birth control”, you tell him, blushing. You never asked to be fucked raw before, you and your ex always used protection even though he protested a lot about it. “I'm clean, I got tested after I found out about the cheating”, you complete. It would be embarrassing if Jisung refused but it doesn't hurt to ask. All you want is to feel his cock inside you.
“A-are you sure?” He asks, correcting himself when you tilt your head in confusion, brows knit together. “I mean, are you sure about not using protection?” He completes and you nod.
“I trust you”, you kiss the tip of his nose, making his heart flutter. Just the thought of fucking you raw managed to make his semi erection turns into a full hard on in a second.
“Okay”, he nods, throwing the package away while he sits down. Jisung gives a few strokes on his cock before you position yourself over him, he puts the tip on your entrance holding his breath as soon as he feels your wet walls around him. “Shit, you're so tight”, his hands land on your hips, helping you go down on his length.
It hurts a little, he's bigger than average so the burning sensation is not surprising to you, even though you were well prepared it still is an intrusion.
“You're the one who's big”, you tell him, biting on his shoulder as soon as you manage to fit all of him inside of you. You stay still for a moment, catching your breath. When your hips start moving it feels so good, it's almost indescribable, the amount of places he can reach is ridiculous, you want to have his cock inside of you all day.
Your pussy is just so good, Jisung can't help gripping your hips more tightly, encouraging you to move faster. He thrusts his hips against you, spitting on his fingers and sliding his hand down to your clit, making circles there while he watches you riding him with your eyes closed shut, feeling your high closer and closer. He's no different, your flattering walls squeezing him are too much for him, he feels like he can cum anytime now.
Jisung kisses you, feeling you moan loudly against his lips, you grip his shoulder burying your nails on his skin and that only makes him crazier. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, going deeper inside of you. You throw your head back, not able to hold in any longer. Your moans are music to Jisung's ears, he's sure he can cum just by hearing you so it's no surprise when he reaches his orgasm, shooting his seed inside you.
“Fuck”, he groans, movements faltering. You watch as he leans on you, head resting on your chest. That's what's necessary for you to cum and you are almost not able to breathe normally after the intensity of that orgasm.
Jisung helps you lie down on the bed, getting comfortable by your side while he snuggles himself close to you.
“I love you”, that's what he says, looking at you with loving eyes and there's nothing more running through his mind other than how much he loves you.
“I love you too”, you giggle happily, giving a peck on his lips. “I'll need a whole day to recover from this, though”, you tease.
“What do you mean? You better be ready for another round”, he answers, smiling and kissing you. You better brace yourself.
[End]
———
A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
Taglist: @rockstrhanji @angelsquid @feelikecinderella @realrintaro @bomi-ja @sasiiidumpling @itshannjisung @whyisaah @weareapackofstrays @kkamismom12 @soonie1010 @bberymi @minleemin @ayejaii
#stray kids#skz#skz imagines#skz x reader#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#stray kids scenarios#skz x y/n#skz x you#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#skz han jisung#han jisung angst#han jisung x reader#han jisung x y/n#han jisung x you#skz masterlist#k labels#han jisung smut#han jisung scenarios
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strangers
synopsis: trainee life is a lot tougher than you thought, but with three other trainees you met along the way, you have a little more hope that it’ll all be worth it in the end.
warnings: bad eating habits, mentions of vomiting and self-induced vomiting, swearing, suggestive, TOE-SUCKING, alcohol and parties, lots of feelings and trainee life angst
w/c: 19.2k !!!!! why is this like half of my entire bachelorette series jeezus
a/n: requested!! i actually dont fill reqs this quick but i had the idea alr and i lwk love writing poly i just think its so much messier and more confusing and FUN so writing this came a lot easier than writing other reqs do. also u lwk only have to read half of this and be happy yippee happily ever after OR u can potentially hurt urself and enjoy the angst but idk it’s not THAT bad so 🤗
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
“y/n?”
you blink, tilting your head up from your hiding spot under the table in the recording studio. it’s nayeon, one of the korean trainees. you hurriedly wipe your eyes on your sleeve, stumbling upwards and almost knocking your head on the bottom of the table.
“s-sorry. were you using this room? i’ll get out now-“
“no no! it’s okay i was just going to get some practice in and i saw you. are you… are you okay?” you appreciate her speaking slower for you, your grasp of korean still wasn’t the best.
“y-yeah i’m fine. i’ll just- leave you to it- sorry again-“
“are you sure? today’s actually my day off so i don’t have to be doing anything. i’m happy to just listen if you want…?”
you gulp, avoiding her gaze, nayeon was one of the trainees that everyone knew would most likely make it. you didn’t see much of her because she was always off on side jobs filming as a background dancer for music videos, booking small modelling gigs, and she was generally in more advanced classes than yours and was even set to debut in a group with a few others before the idea was scrapped. she was steadily making a name for herself even before the public knew her, something you couldn’t help but be envious of. but here she was, offering to listen to you of all people.
“i- um-“
“it’s okay. you can take your time.” she smiles sweetly, “i tried to take a few english classes but it’s a lot more difficult than i thought it’d be. so i can understand how hard it must be to come to a different country and learn a whole new language.”
“t-thank you. i was just um- i was actually just thinking about calling home and… and quitting.”
she nods, eyes filled with empathy, waiting for you to continue.
“i just- don’t think i can make it. there’s so many talented people here and this has always been my dream but i’m just not good enough and i don’t even- it doesn’t even make sense for me to be here when i could be back home getting an education or i don’t know- doing something with my life.”
“you don’t think what you’re doing now is something?”
you sigh, gripping your arm firmly, "it- it is but i don't know if it's all going to work out in the end."
"and you think going back home and going to school will guarantee things working out for you?"
"well- i- no, not for certain but-"
"so isn't the only difference that you actually want to do this? you don't want to end up working an office job for the rest of your life right?"
"but- like i'm more likely to get an office job than i am to debut-"
"i'm sure the office jobs will wait for you. idol life won't. if you don't make it, then the office job will always be there right? it's up to you though, i'm not trying to convince you to stay or leave, i just think it's a shame when you have a real chance at getting what you've dreamt of your whole life. you were scouted weren't you? did you know i auditioned to get in? and i had to hide it from my family because they didn't think this was a realistic job prospect, not when i was still in high school. so if you think you don't belong here, just remember you beat out other auditionees to get your spot as a trainee here, so you were good enough for that." she smiles brightly, her two protruding front teeth proudly on display, giving her the adorable likeability to a rabbit.
her words bring you back from the edge of panic, you've always looked at her through a lens of jealousy, wishing you had as much natural talent and star power as she did, but right now, you could see she was so much more than that, and you respected her for it, admired her for it.
"thank you nayeon." you finally meet the older girl's eyes, and her smile grows even brighter.
"of course. do you have any training schedules to get to right now? or do you want to stay here and practice some vocal chords with me?"
"would that be okay?" your eyes widen at her offer.
"yes! don't be silly y/n i know we're all meant to be competing or whatever but we're most likely going to debut in a group right? we can't just be out for each other's throats all the time."
you smile, finding her attitude refreshing, most of the trainees you had met were exactly like that, and you felt even more isolated when it was obvious they made no effort to get to know you because of the language barrier, to them, it was just another advantage they had over you.
"c'mon. let's see what you got."
your motivation reinvigorated, you spend the rest of the afternoon cooped up in the recording studio with nayeon, practicing together but also joking around and laughing, being the kids you were in an industry that stripped you of that freedom.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
"これの読み方を知っていますか?"
"いいえ、私は愚��です."
you shuffle uncomfortably in your seat, unable to shake the insecurity that they were talking about you. you were currently in your intensive korean class, waiting for the teacher to appear. the class was mostly quiet, except for the two girls sitting a table away from you, whispering and laughing, pushing each other around playfully.
when you glance towards them again, one of them meets your eye. you panic, whipping your head back down to your open textbook.
the girl who saw you whispers something to her seatmate, nodding towards you, bringing the other girl's attention to you as well.
you strain to see what they're doing in your peripheral vision, but the little giggles and whispers have you shrinking in even more on yourself, thinking they were making fun of you for whatever reason.
you don't notice when the one who spotted you first is suddenly standing next to you. she waits for you to acknowledge her, but when you don't she giggles again, leaning down and tilting her head so you had to look at her.
"hi. my name sana. you?"
"y-y/n."
"y/n? nice to meet you! that momo." she steps back a little and points at the other girl who waves shyly at you. you stare back at her, dumbfounded, reciprocating her wave.
"you... korean good?"
you blink, unsure of what to say, "umm... it's okay i guess."
sana grins, all teeth, almost blinding you, running back to her seat and picking up her textbook, skipping back towards you and plopping down in the empty seat next to you. she points at the page, "how to do?"
you look down to the question she has circled, it was part of the homework set from the last lesson. you flick back to that page in your own textbook, showing her and trying to explain with gestures what it was asking.
when it clicks, that blinding smile graces her features again, her eyes lighting up and quickly scribbling down the answer. then she turns to momo who seemed to be doodling little drawings all over her workbook instead of studying.
"モモリ馬鹿野郎 ! これがあなたのやり方です."
you shrink back into your seat, thinking she was done with you, only needing you to help her with her homework, and now that she was done, she could go back to making fun of you.
but instead, momo looks over curiously, standing up and hovering over the two of you. sana starts talking in rapid japanese, her hands flailing around excitedly.
momo nods along, and then she seems to get a moment of realisation, her eyebrows raising and mouth opening in the shape of an o, an "ahh!" escaping her.
sana looks back to you, "thank you! you so smart!"
you still don't really follow their conversation but you nod, shyly rubbing the back of your neck, "it's okay."
"we sit here?"
"sorry?"
sana frowns, an adorable pout forming on her lips, thinking over how to say what she wants. then she grabs momo's hand, gesturing between the both of them, "friends!", then she grabs your hand, gesturing between the three of you now, "friends?"
your hand is sweaty against sana's, you take note of how soft it feels against yours, heart stumbling a little over itself. you nod sheepishly, not expecting sana to grin, pulling you into a hug immediately.
momo goes to grab her things, and then settles into the seat on your other side, "sorry for her. she very huggy."
sana pouts, flicking momo's forehead playfully after she pulls away from you, "you like it too."
momo giggles, rolling her eyes.
things were moving so fast your brain was playing catch up. you knew the people here were a lot more affectionate than back home, but you still felt your heart racing from being in such close proximity with sana, and now momo too, the both of them squeezed against you and conversing lightly in broken korean and japanese while waiting for the teacher. it wasn't unwelcome though, this was the first time someone had asked you in such a straightforward way to become friends, it was refreshing, definitely better than the trainees in your vocal and dance classes who refused to interact with you at all.
when the teacher finally comes, he looks a little surprised at the change in seating, but doesn't comment on it, diving straight into the lesson.
sana and momo both try their best to keep up, sana remains fully engaged in the lesson, asking plenty of questions, while momo is the opposite. she's easily distracted, when the teacher goes on one of his off topic rants, she starts doodling in her textbook again, you repress a laugh at the stick men she drew frolicking around in fields with rainbows and stars. you can't help yourself but bring your pen to her page, adding a little deranged dog to her drawing.
she looks at you in surprise, but lets you finish, giggling at the result and drawing in some fur for the dog, fixing up your sorry attempt at a puppy.
the class finishes uneventfully after that. momo yawns, closing her book with relief while sana stretches, standing up and grinning down at the both of you.
momo looks at her warily, squinting, "what?"
"what?"
"you have not good look on your face. what you do?"
"what do you mean momoring?" sana's grin only grows wider.
"i don't want to get in trouble again."
"you woooon't. what you think y/n? want to sneak out get fried chicken and beer?"
momo groans, slumping down on her desk, muttering to herself in japanese while sana laughs at her reaction.
you look between the both of them, raising an eyebrow. you knew you shouldn't, but you hadn't had real food in so long, the company's strict diet and weight requirements always on all of your minds. and you hadn't really gone out and explored korea since you arrived. you'd pretty much been confined to the dorms and the company building, eating cafeteria food and living the same routine everyday, you knew the korean trainees would often get together after late night practices and have small gatherings the company wouldn't know about, but you were never invited to those.
you grin cheekily, "you have a plan?"
sana laughs, pulling you up to stand, hugging you once again in glee, "yay!! i knew we good friends! of course, it's not the first time momoring and i have snuck out." she pulls away with a wink.
momo grumbles behind you, slowly standing up as well, "last time you got us caught you said we were helping 'clean the streets'. stupid. we had extra exercise requirements for two weeks."
"we won't get caught this time! i promise! and if we do i pay for all our food."
momo perks up at that, eyeing sana, then holding out her pinky.
sana giggles, linking their pinkies and then dragging momo by their pinkies, and you by your hand out of the classroom and back towards the dorms to get ready.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
"sana- move!" momo grunts, shuffling around in clothes too big for her, a cap that dipped over her eyes, and a mask to hide her face.
"shh! you're gonna get us caught!"
"no you are!"
"okay they're gone let's go." sana slinks forward in similar attire, careful to avoid the security cameras, flapping a sleeve behind her frantically to gesture the both of you to follow. momo glances at you, rolling her eyes but smiling, tiptoeing forward and following sana.
you're body is surging with adrenaline. you had always been a 'good' kid. you've never tried sneaking out of anywhere before. you were also trying to hold in your laughter at how stupid the three of you must look, the sunglasses covering your eyes while indoors and at 9pm at night glazing your vision.
you make it halfway across the main entrance, almost to the exit, hands shoved in your pockets.
"... y/n?"
you pause, heart pounding. the two in front of you stop as well, sana looks back at you in alarm.
you decide the best course of action is to pretend you didn't hear them. after all, they couldn't be sure you were yourself right now right? the absurd disguises made sure of that. you take another step forward.
"y/n what are you wearing? you look like vector from despicable me."
curse sana for lending you that naruto cosplay. you forgot how visible your disguise was.
you turn on your heel slowly, terribly embarrassed to have been discovered like this, mind scrambling to come up with an excuse for what the three of you were doing.
but you're stopped in your tracks when you realise who was teasing you with a wide grin, two front teeth on display. she laughs when she finally sees you, it's loud and bright, it'd scare you away if you hadn't already heard it plenty of times from her when she had found you in the practice room that day.
"you look so stupid. wait-" she whips out her phone, and before you can protest, she snaps a quick picture, laughing at her phone after checking the result.
"nayeonn!"
"i can't believe you tried to sneak out wearing that."
you pout, crossing your arms protectively over yourself, "i wasn't trying to sneak out!"
she raises an eyebrow, "yeah and i'm not gorgeous." she jokes sarcastically, before peeking over your shoulder and nodding behind you, "and who are those two losers behind you?"
you turn, taking off your ridiculous sunglasses and waving to let them know you were fine and to join you. sana tilts her head curiously, moving back towards you, tugging along momo who takes off her cap, blowing her hair out of her face.
"oh! you're the japanese duo that came here on the same day! i'm sorry i don't remember your names but i saw you dance and you were incredible." she directs the last part at momo, who blushes at the compliment, nodding and hiding behind her hair. sana grins though, bowing down and bringing momo down with her.
"i'm sana! this is momo!"
"nayeon. it's nice to meet you both." nayeon smiles sweetly, bowing as well and gesturing for them to stand up. "where were you guys headed?"
"chicken and beer! you want to come?" sana quips happily, excited to meet anyone new.
"how were you guys going to get beer?" nayeon jokes with a smirk.
sana tilts her head confusedly, she looks adorable in the clothes that drown her.
"you're all underage right?"
sana looks to you in confusion, not seeming to understand what underage meant.
"ah- none of us are 18..." you gesture to the three of you.
sana makes a sound of exclamation, not having thought about that particular detail.
nayeon laughs brightly, finding the japanese girl's antiques endearing. "good thing you have me then! c'mon. i know the best place as well, and no one from the company will go around there so we won't get caught." she winks, pulling a mask and cap out of her jacket pocket and slipping it on.
you blink, surprised at the change in events.
nayeon shrugs, "always gotta be ready if we're training to be idols right?" you can see the smirk in her eyes, before she charges forward without an answer and leads the four of you into the night.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
your shoulder hurt.
there's another bout of laughter, you flinch, preparing yourself.
sure enough, nayeon's large hands come clapping down on your arm, you wince, trying to smile your way through the sting of each slap.
it doesn't help when sana realises why you look constipated, cracking up even more pointing at you with a hand over her mouth, which makes nayeon laugh again for absolutely no other reason than that you were all wasted.
"nayeonnie calm down- you're going to kill y/n-" sana chokes out between giggles.
nayeon blinks, looking at you, face brightly flushed. she pouts, leaning in close, "what did i do?"
you flush even brighter, blaming the alcohol and not the way nayeon's eyes are glued to your lips, squinting and trying to focus on one part of your face only with her wobbly vision. you push her off of you gently, rubbing at your shoulder with a grimace, "you hit people when you're drunk.""
nayeon coos, chasing after you, "awwwwwh did i hurt you? poor baby. here lemme kiss it better." nayeon purses her lips together, pushing her face towards you while you whine and laugh, trying to push her away.
sana pipes up at the word, "kiss? who are we kissing? i wanna kiss!"
momo snorts, playing around with the bottle cap of the soju you had gotten to after you had all decided the beer wasn't enough. her face is probably the most flushed of you all, but she was also probably the most sane of you all currently. "don't you kiss enough?"
sana whines, poking momo's cheek, "no! you don't let me! c'mere-" she leans forward, tickling momo's sides, trying to get her to let her defenses down and land one on her. momo laughs, pushing sana off, scrambling away in urgency.
you aren't faring much better, but then you get an idea, "sanaaa! kiss nayeon! she's trying to get me!"
sana turns to you both, and she's never one to turn down a kiss so she leans across the table, yanking nayeon's head towards her and pulling her away from you. but what surprises you is when she plants a sloppy kiss right on the eldest's lips.
you look at momo, expecting to see a similar look reflected, but she rolls her eyes, calmly picking up the bottle and bringing it to her lips again to take a sip.
they break away with a smack, exaggerated on sana's end who giggles and licks her lips, grabbing the bottle from momo and taking a sip as well.
nayeon blinks, her brain seeming to catch up with her body 2 seconds late. when she realises what happens, she stands up abruptly with a screech, her metal chair scraping against the floor in pain. you wince at the sound, but laugh when you catch her face, now brighter than momo's, hand over her mouth in shock. sana and momo easily join you, cackling as nayeon flails around, sounds coming out of her mouth in incoherent phrases.
it seems the shop owner has had enough of the four of you though.
"yah! out! all of you! bedtime! 2am now! go go!" you all continue laughing as you're ushered out of your seats. you're all too drunk to notice the way the shop owner has fondly been watching you for the last few hours, cleaning around and keeping her shop open later than she normally opens, recalling the days she was young and stupid as well. she shouts at you while she pushes you out the door, but she also shoves a plastic bag of takeaway chicken into your hands as she pushes you out, telling you all to go home and not to cause too much trouble at this time of night.
you all laugh and thank her, sana even goes to kiss her cheek, cooing at how adorable she was in her apron and wrinkles.
when you've finally calmed down and take in the chill air of the night sky, you shiver a little, the alcohol sloshing around in your body not enough to keep you warm.
momo sidles up next to you, linking your hands together easily and pulling you against her.
you grin at her, tightening your grip around her hand that she's shoved into the warm pocket of her jacket pocket.
the peace is quickly disrupted when nayeon sends a stumbled kick your way from behind you. she misses though, tripping over herself and almost falling face-flat onto the ground save for sana hooking onto her waist quickly, pulling her back up with a laugh.
nayeon wraps an arm around sana's shoulder, thanking her for the support. "yah. you two. kiss. i can't be the only one who had to kiss someone today."
sana pouts, "why do you say that like you didn't like it?"
nayeon sputters, squinting up at sana from her slouched position, her weight almost entirely leaning on sana, "no i didn't- i didn't mean it like- no but- ugh-"
sana giggles, shuffling around so she can accommodate nayeon better.
momo turns her head, "no way loser. you two only kissed because you're both so kissy."
"what does that even mean?!"
"sana kisses everyone when she's drunk. and you're just as bad nayeon. i don't know how you can go drinking with just one person. you need at least 2 or 3 to hold you up when you get drunk." momo teases, sticking out her tongue.
"respect your elders you little shit!"
you all laugh at that, nayeon may have gotten you all drinks but she wasn't that much older than you. and she looks hilarious bringing a fist up in the air and waving it around like a little angry old lady, too much spite in too little a body, it was cute.
"wait... so the only one i haven't kissed yet is y/n?"
you freeze, ready to make a run for it at the earliest sign of danger.
nayeon grins, pushing sana off of her and towards you, "let's change that!"
your eyes widen, legs tensing up, ready to rush forward, you pull your intertwined hands out of momo's pocket. but right as you're about to take off, momo smirks, yanking you backwards and spinning you around until you're met with the soft, ready lips sana has wating for you.
"mmf-!"
your eyes are squeezed shut when momo spun you, terrified of falling onto your face, but now all you can feel is her hand still holding yours, sana's coming up to steady your hips, her lips pressing against yours gently.
all too quickly, she breaks away with a giggle, licking her lips again. it must be a habit.
you stare at her dumbly, mouth hanging open, lips tingling with the faint taste of strawberry soju.
nayeon has ended up on the floor without anyone supporting her, cackling loudly and pointing at your dumbfounded look.
momo stifles a few chuckles as well, her hand still wrapped tightly around yours.
sana simply smiles, closing your mouth with her hand, brushing a thumb over your jaw in the process, then tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
you flush up immediately, whipping around and staring at the floor, the tips of your ears bright red.
sana laughs, cooing, "awwwwh! you're so cute! look at her guys! she's blushing!"
"no!" you speak up indignantly, voice squeaky, "i'm just drunk!"
"you're more red than me!" momo joins in, trying to get a look at your face better with a laugh, her nose scrunching up in glee.
you whine, trying to pull away from her, but she doesn't let your hand go, so you end up pulling her along with you as you stomp forward, eager to get home and away from your teasing new friends.
sana laughs, running after you both.
that left nayeon, still on the floor in the middle of the street at 3am. "guys! hey guys! don't forget me! come back! hey- wait!"
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
the four of you grow easily close after that night. and it helps that by chance, you're all allocated into the same dorm room for the new year. it's definitely a surprise since nayeon was one of the company's top trainees, and the rest of you were foreigners and had only been around for about 2 months. you'd heard it was meant to help the three of you get better at korean, having to converse in korean daily with a korean roommate so that existing friends like sana and momo couldn't get away with just talking in japanese when they were in the comfort of their dorms. plus, it seemed both sana and momo were making a name for themselves amongst the trainees as well for their bubbly idol personality and raw talent respectively.
"how's this?" nayeon comes out of the bathroom and does a little twirl, her hair already curled and makeup applied dazzlingly. she's wearing a pretty silk white dress with little blue bows decorating it, matching the blue ribbons she's used in her hair.
sana squeals, immediately bounding upwards and poking at her. "it's so cute! when did you get this?!"
"the last family trip i went on! are you sure it's okay?" nayeon pouts.
but then momo yells out from behind her, still doing her eyeliner in your shared bathroom mirror, "you look fine stop digging for compliments."
sana laughs cheerily when nayeon sputters back at her, latching onto the older girl and pecking her cheek, "it's okay nayeonnie i don't mind. i'll praise you anytime you want." there's a slight lilt to her voice, she finishes with a wink.
nayeon blushes immediately, but tries to cover for it by turning to you. "y/n? what do you think?"
you roll your eyes from your spot on sana's bed, more focused on applying the dark blue nail polish on your hands. "it's pretty."
"just pretty?" you can hear the pout in her voice.
you sigh exasperatedly, looking up at her in mock annoyance. "you're gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, exquisite, glamorous, everyone at the party will have their eyes on you."
you can hear momo fake gag from the bathroom, and sana bursting into giggles. but nayeon crosses her arms, frowning, "you see when you list it out like that it makes it a little harder to believe."
"ugh nayeon! you look good! what more do you want from me!"
she laughs, leaning down to squish your cheeks together affectionately, "thanks darling, i love my little thesaurus."
you grumble, careful not to get the drying nail polish onto sana's sheets. sana comes back to her position next to you, grabbing your hands and starting to blow on your fingers.
"what time does the party start again?" momo yells out from the bathroom, slipping into her outfit for the night.
"like... 10 minutes ago but it's fine. no one interesting is gonna get there on time." nayeon squeezes in next to you as well, leaning her head on your shoulder.
"that's because you're only interested in yourself."
"hey! i can revoke my invite to all of you!"
"you wanted us to go because you'd be, quote, bored out of your mind with all those mindless prepubescent boys trying to get in your pants! besides, we all got our own invites anyway."
"what?! why didn't you tell me?!"
"you were so cute thinking you were doing us all a solid or something for inviting us." sana speaks up with a giggle, "we couldn't break that!"
"you couldn't sana! i wanted to tell her and shove it up her proud ass but you just love to watch cute girls fumble around don't you?"
sana giggles again, going back to blowing on your nails.
but then momo steps out of the bathroom, clad in a very short bodycon dress, her makeup and hair fully done, the dress cutting open at her midriff showing off toned abs, pretty gold necklace decorating her neck, outlining her collarbones and the plunging neckline that pretty much ended at her belly button, tying together the cutout.
the three of you all stare at her, eyes roaming over the mass of skin, mouths open in... shock.
sana licks her lips slowly, eyes not bothering to meet her best friend's again, "you look... good."
momo smirks, imitating what's meant to be nayeon, "just good?"
nayeon bristles then, snapping out of her stupor, "shut up momo. don't you think you're... showing a bit too much skin?"
momo starts looking around for her shoes, bending over criminally with her back to you all, it's almost comedic how all three of your gazes lock onto her ass immediately. "this is nothing compared to some of the outfits they put us in when we do our showcases. besides, it's not like you can talk." she snorts, turning back around with heels in hand, her smirk never leaving her face as she watches the three of you, knowing exactly what you were doing.
"yeah but you'll... get cold."
"it's an indoor party."
"shut up!"
she laughs, standing back up after slipping into her shoes, "okay! ready to go?"
you gulp, standing up shakily, forcing you to look at her face and not ogle your friend's very attractive body. "y-yeah. took you all long enough."
"you finished practice earlier than us, you had more time to get ready. now let's go losers."
she leads the charge out your tiny shared room, nayeon gets up and follows grumpily. you look back down to sana who's still got her gaze locked on the way both girls' hips sway with each step. you roll your eyes, poking sana and dragging her up with a laugh. sana lets you, her brain short-circuiting, only able to be tugged along.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
you honestly had no idea how a party of this scale went unnoticed by the company. there were so many trainees you recognised, and even a few idols that were lesser known to the public. it was at someone's house, you don't remember who's, but there was no way you could've gotten away with a party this size back at the dorms.
music was blasting, drinks were being circulated, people were dancing and grinding up against each other. it wasn't a surprise to see the amount of rowdiness going on, that's what happened when you force a bunch of teenagers to undergo strict training and diet regimes, and forbid anything that could get anyone into any sorts of controversies in the future in case you made it and got famous.
the four of you had naturally split up when you arrived, being pulled away by different friends and people wanting to greet you. you spot momo on the dance floor already, not that it was difficult to seperate her from everyone else. sure you were all trainees and went through mandatory dance class, but everyone knew momo was something else when it came to dance. she had an aura about her, one that made people back up and give her space, circling her on the crowded floor and watching in awe of her moves.
you can hear nayeon before you spot her. she's with jihyo and jeongyeon, two other trainees that she was set to debut with, and granted, was naturally close with. they were all top-notch trainees at the company, everyone knew of them, knew that the next group coming out of jyp would most likely include the three of them.
that left sana, someone people naturally gravitated towards. her adorable happy-go-lucky energy was infectious, it was impossible not to fall in love with her at first sight. she was currently surrounded by a crowd of people, laughing and smiling, face tinged with the pink of alcohol.
eventually, someone gets people together for a game of spin the bottle. you're all sitting in a big circle in a room away from the rest of the party, chattering excitedly with the buzz of liquors, an empty soju bottle laying in the middle of you all.
"okay party people! game time!" the original host of the party, jackson wang, saunters in with a charming grin, plopping himself down between mark and jeongyeon. "so i'm gonna assume we all know how spin the bottle works. and if you don't... well you'll find out! who wants to go first!"
everyone looks around at everyone, antsy, unwilling to go first. jackson rolls his eyes, "alright losers. guess it's me." he bends forward and spins the bottle. everyone watches with anticipation, breaths held.
it lands on one of the younger trainees, ryujin. she makes a face of disgust, cringing, but jackson ignores it, quickly swooping in and kissing her.
when they break away, ryujin quickly downs her cup of whatever concoction of alcohol she has, wiping at her lips and pushing him off of her playfully. jackson laughs, backing away and returning to his seat. ryujin goes forward, places her fingers on the bottle, then spins it.
again, you all wait in anticipation, eyes locked on the dizzying movement, until it slowly lands on bambam.
ryujin groans again, bambam looks like he just won the lottery. "nope! i'm not kissing one of you gross guys again, jackson tasted like he doesn't know what a toothbrush is. gimme a dare."
there are shouts of disapproval, but ryujin ignores them all, sitting on her haunches, unmoving.
"okay just because you made that totally untrue comment about my breath, i'll give you one worse than kissing bam." jackson looks around the room, thinking to himself, mark whispers something in his ear and they both snicker, "alright. suck someone's toes for 10 seconds."
"pfft is that meant to be a dare?" ryujin easily leans forward, pulling yeji's sock off and immediately wrapping her lips around her toe. yeji squeals, trying to pull her foot away but ryujin is persistent amongst everyone's hollering and cheering, counting down the seconds.
she finally breaks away with a laugh, making a show of licking her lips while yeji blushes, yelling at her and slapping her arm, shoving her drink into her hand and making her rinse out her mouth.
bambam shyly goes forward next, he spins the bottle, and it lands on nayeon. his eyebrows almost get lost in his hairline with how far up they go, his head shooting up and looking at nayeon who was leaning on jihyo heavily, still laughing at the whole ryujin-yeji situation.
his boys clap him on the back with a cheer, pushing him forward towards the older girl. nayeon blinks, turning her attention to him, realising he had spun her.
her eyes meet yours for a second, and then they flit around the room, landing on sana and momo respectively, it's so quick you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't already locked on her gaze.
bambam moves forward shyly, kneeling in front of her, unsure of what to do. she leans back a little as he comes closer, putting on an encouraging smile, looking up at him.
he takes a breath, then dives down, you can hear their teeth clacking as he accidentally goes in too aggressively, nayeon cringes, but tries to make up for it by tilting her head, pressing her lips against his, trying to urge him to slow down, but bambam moves almost too eagerly, like he's eating her up. in the end, nayeon has to gently push him off of her to get him to stop, he looks dazed as he collapses back in his spot, bright blush on his face all the way down to his neck. nayeon tries to look polite and laughs it off, moving forward and quickly spinning the bottle to move everyone along.
only for it land on momo.
"oh hell no." they both say simultaneously, blushing furiously and gaping at each other from across the circle. you catch sana's eye, supressing a laugh as you look between the two of them.
"dare! i pick dare!"
sana perks up, taking the opportunity immediately, "okay i dare you to kiss momo!"
the boys around the circle all laugh, agreeing with her energetically, starting up a chant. momo sends a death glare towards sana, who just sticks out her tongue at her, making an exaggerated kissy face mimicking momo and nayeon kissing.
with no choice, nayeon shuffles forward, crouching down in front of momo who can't look her in the eye.
"don't fall in love with me or anything hirai."
that gets momo to snort, meeting nayeon's equally nervous gaze, "as if i'll be able to think about anything other than getting rid of the taste of you-" she's cut off, nayeon leaning down to plant her lips on her in haste.
momo blinks at first in confusion, then she's closing her eyes and circling a hand around nayeon's neck, pulling her in just a little closer and returning the kiss. they ignore the roar of the crowd, nayeon thinks to herself how much better momo's lips felt against her own than bambam's teeth did.
that thought quickly rips her away though, scrambling backwards and wiping at her lips in mock disgust, laughing breathily with a pretty blush adorning her face.
momo looks on after her, her expression unreadable. after things settle down again, momo leans forward, spinning the bottle.
sana doesn't even give anyone the chance to think, sliding forward and into momo's lap, cupping her cheek and bringing their lips together. momo reacts automatically, hands circling sana's hips and slotting them together, like they've done this countless times in the past.
watching nayeon and momo kiss was silly, fun, but this, this was something different. you glance at nayeon, who has a hand at her lips, staring at sana and momo make out in front of everyone, eyebrows furrowed slightly. you look back, swearing you can see the hint of a pink tongue poke out from sana, momo's hands tightening around the other girl's hips in reaction, before sana finally breaks away. she stands up, sauntering back to her spot with a proud grin, people are cheering, throwing confetti, bowing down to her as if she just brought rain down in a drought. she thrives in the attention. momo on the other hand is breathing heavily, expression shielded behind her hair, biting her lip and clenching her thighs together.
sana does a round around the inside of the circle, giggling and skipping along in her little pink slip. she finally arrives back to her original spot, bending down and spinning the bottle.
it lands on one of the younger trainees, dahyun. sana smiles sweetly, crawling forward. she whispers a few words to dahyun, who nods shyly, breath picking up, then sana leans in, just pecking her before pulling away again. nothing like the kiss she shared with momo.
you decide you need a drink.
at this point in the night, the kitchen is thankfully much less chaotic. most people are playing the game, on the dance floor, or passed out around the house.
you spoon a ladle of the jungle juice that probably has ludicrous amounts of liquor in it into your cup, gulping it down thirstily. you don't know why you suddenly felt so stifled in that room, feeling hot even in the little cropped top and skirt you're wearing.
"y/n?"
you turn, of course it's your three roommates, all looking very concerned for you.
"hey. you okay?" sana comes up to you first, cupping your cheeks, placing the back of her hand on the front of your forehead.
you wave her off with a chuckle, "yeah i'm fine guys. why did you leave the game?"
"because you left." momo says simply, taking the cup you're still holding in your hand away from you, sniffing the contents.
"you didn't have to do that. i was just taking a water break."
"riiiight. water." momo raises an eyebrow unimpressively, pouring the rest of your drink down the sink nearby.
"i'm fine though seriously! you guys should get back to the game."
"you're not coming?" sana pouts.
"not really feeling it anymore."
"do you wanna go home?" nayeon speaks up then, coming forward to lean on sana's back, her face resting on sana's shoulder, looking up at you with wide eyes.
"what? no! you guys have fun. seriously, stop worrying about me i'm fine!"
"we can't have fun without you."
"i'm sure you can."
"no. we're not the four of us without you. we're just... the three of us." sana tilts her head like a confused puppy, her proximity to you making you dizzy, you're not sure if it's the alcohol, or the fact that she was so close, but you can only focus on her lips, which then remind you of the way her lips had been on momo's lips, that had been on nayeon's lips. yeah you were definitely a little more than dizzy.
"wooahh- too much to drink i think." momo sidles up next to you, catching your waist, and holding you up against her. she jokes, "didn't think you'd be the same kinda drunk as nayeon y/n. i don't know if we have enough personnel to take care of the both of you."
you groan, pushing yourself back onto your own two feet, leaning back against the kitchen bench, "don't compare me to that trainwreck."
"hey!"
you all laugh, sana's hands coming down to squeeze nayeon's that are around her waist, turning to peck her cheek.
"i'm getting tired anyway. let's go home."
"what? guys no- you don't have to do this for me- you can stay-"
"we're not doing this for you idiot. i wanna sleep too. i'm gonna be grumpy tomorrow morning if we don't get enough sleep and i have dance practice with jyp."
"you're always grumpy in the mornings momoring."
"no i'm not!"
"yes you are." nayeon quips.
"shut up or i'll kiss you again im."
that makes everyone pause, processing the words in their head. momo doesn't even seem to realise what she's said, staring fiercely back at nayeon, only focused on winning their little bouts of banter.
you all stand in the kitchen in awkward silence, looking nervously at each other, unsure of what to say.
eventually sana speaks up, laughing edgily. "are y/n and i interrupting something orr...?"
"what?! no?!" they both speak up, protesting loudly.
you laugh, trying to ease the tension that seems to have come out of nowhere. "i could've said that about you and momo sana. that was some kiss." that was probably not the right thing to say to ease the tension.
"that's nothing. sana and i kiss all the time." momo brushes you off, shrugging, but sana looks hurt at the her words.
"nothing?"
"wait what do you mean all the time?"
momo blushes, looking between sana and nayeon. but sana's easily emotional feelings, amplified by her intoxication, have her eyes watering, sending momo straight into panic mode. "wait no- that's not what i meant satang-"
"then what did you mean?" sana frowns, you weren't sure if she was genuinely angry now or still playing around.
"i don't- satang i'm stupid we know this i just say stupid shit- things just come out of my mouth i didn't mean it like that-"
"then in what way did you mean it momoring?" her tone is clipped, throat scratchy.
"satang this isn't fair-"
"what isn't?"
"c'mon- satang please-"
all of a sudden, sana lurches forward, pressing her lips against momo's, trapping her against the kitchen counter. nayeon falls onto you without sana holding her up, you quickly grab her waist, supporting her, but both your eyes move back to sana and momo quickly.
they're kissing for real this time, not like when they were putting on a show for everyone else during the game. and you're both close enough you can hear the wet smacks of lips against lips, the little gasps and whimpers, every breath they take in between each kiss. momo's hands have come up to tangle in sana's hair, pulling her closer, their bodies meeting and moving against each other like they were made for each other.
you squirm slightly under nayeon, hands gripping her waist tighter at the sight, the dizzy feeling from earlier returning full force. you try and force yourself to focus on something else, it was probably a bit weird, to be so close, staring as your two closest friends made out, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away, your gaze lidded at the rushed pace, tongues clashing and being sucked into mouths.
you can tell nayeon is feeling very similarly, her hot breath hitting your lips at a faster pace than normal, laboured with excitement.
there's a crashing sound from upstairs where they were playing the game, followed by loud whooping and cheering. it pops the bubble that's formed between the four of you. sana breaks away from momo, panting, hands having come in to hold onto the other girl's hips, pushing her into the bench further having squeezed their bodies together as close as possible.
"w-was that- nothing?" her voice comes out hoarse and in a whisper, still catching her breath.
momo can't speak, her eyes still tightly shut, shaking her head in response.
"then what was it?"
momo groans, knocking her forehead against sana's gently, "don't ask me that sana." her voice is also laced with shaky breaths.
"why not?"
"it's confusing. you know i can't handle thinking about that much."
"am i confusing?"
she shakes her head again, but then points to you and nayeon, drawing a circle between the four of you, "this is confusing."
that gives sana pause, thinking over the possible implications of momo's words, taking the chance to catch her breath. then she looks up to the both of you, her eyes dragging up from the way you're still clutching nayeon's waist tightly, before meeting yours. the eye contact sends shivers down your spine, even when her eyes leave yours to stare into nayeon's, you can still feel all your senses on alert, breath held, tensions at an all time high.
sana's head tilts again, considering the both of you. then, she seems to come to a decision, and she's just as quick as she always is.
before you realise it, her lips are on yours, hand cupping your cheek, the other wrapped around nayeon to keep her there.
it's nothing like that first kiss you shared weeks ago. that was a simple peck, there and gone. this time, sana's moving her lips against yours, fingers caressing your cheek, down to your neck, lips soft and wet, panting directly into your mouth.
momo forces her eyes open, staring at you and sana kiss with hooded eyes. hands coming back down to grip the bench behind her, knuckles almost turning white from how hard she was holding onto it.
sana breaks away from you, but without taking a breath, turns her head, and starts kissing nayeon.
nayeon is only slightly surprised, almost all her weight leaning on you, gripping the back of your top tightly, reciprocating sana's kiss with as much vigor as sana gives.
when they finally break apart, you're all still breathing heavily, looking between each other, tension surmounting, thousands of words unsaid.
it's nayeon that speaks up first this time. she whistles lowly, letting out a small chuckle, "so... that wasn't... nothing."
"no." momo agrees. their eyes meet.
sana rolls her eyes, getting impatient, "so do you two wanna fuck or do you wanna fight?"
neither of them protest this time, they don't even laugh it off, you can all feel the very real pressure in the air.
"dunno. i think i need a..." momo licks her lips, "another taste to know." then she leans forward, capturing nayeon's lips with her own, straight up moaning at the contact. your thighs clench together at the sound. all of this was getting too much for your dumb little drunk brain. you had been spectating more than you had been involved, and it'd be a lie if you said you weren't turned on by it all.
nayeon and momo's kiss is different from sana's kisses. they're both aggressive, fighting for dominance, their natural banter translated onto their lips, grunts and gasps, trying to one-up each other.
eventually, they break away, but momo transitions straight over to you.
"need to compare." she mumbles lowly before attaching her lips to yours. she's much more gentle with you, teasing your mouth open before dipping her tongue inside, you whine against her, hips moving of their own accord when they grind up into nayeon who's still leaning on you for support.
you hear nayeon swear under her breath, regaining some of her drunk-addled consciousness to grip your hips roughly to stop you from doing that again. but that's the end of her control, she leans in, close enough so momo and you can both hear her, just inches away from your mouths moving against each other.
"my turn."
momo obliges, breaking away from you, only for nayeon to latch on. you can still hear momo's rough breathing next to your ear while your lips start moving against nayeon's, once again, with a completely different kissing style to momo and sana. she's slow and languid, pressed against your lips until you're just about to be out of breath, before breaking away and coming back in. she finishes with a little kitten lick on your upper lip, you whine, pushing your hips against her hands as she growls, pushing you back into the counter.
sana's spent the entire time watching all of you, having enough time to even pour herself another much needed drink. she swirls around the contents of her cup, downing it and speaking up again. "home?"
"home." you all unanimously agree.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
you wake up hazily with a pounding headache, vision blurred, mouth dry.
you squeeze your eyes shut again, the dim brightness of the room too much for you. you reach blindly for your glasses that should be next to your pillow on the top bunk of the bunk bed you share with sana. instead, your palm comes colliding with something that most definitely was not your glasses.
your eyes shoot open, squinting and trying to focus, as the person you've hit groans.
"10 more minutes."
"...momo?"
momo groans again, burying her face into the pillow you're sharing, hair messily coming to cover her eyes and furrowed eyebrows.
suddenly, memories of last night come flying back to you. you look down alarmingly, lifting the blanket slightly to find yourself very naked, with an equally naked momo curled around you, arm thrown lazily over your side, legs intertwined.
you also realise that this was not your bed. you were on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed opposite the one you shared with sana, this was nayeon's bed. now even more confused, you slowly turn your body, trying your best to not disturb momo who mumbles something while you shuffle around the bed, before pulling you closer into her.
the sudden feeling of her chest now pressed against your bare back surprises you, even though you knew you were both naked. you try your best to not think about it, squinting to look around the room for where nayeon could be if you were in her bed.
you didn't have to look far though, cuddled up on sana's bed right opposite you, is sana and nayeon. and you'd bet they were in the same state of undress you and momo were.
your heart rate picks up as you recall the events of last night. you hadn't exactly done a lot of talking. as soon as you got home, you were all over each other, somehow, you had made the limited space, and the fact that not all four of you could fit on one little bunk bed work for all of you. your thighs tingle with the memory, a blush adorning your face.
eventually, it's sana that wakes up first, turning in her bed and blinking at you slowly.
you let her come to her senses, your eyes drifting down to where the blanket has fallen in her movement, breath catching at the sight of her pretty naked chest moving up and down slowly with each breath.
sana doesn't mind the attention, she never has, she yawns, stretching unabashedly, revealing more of herself, sitting up and letting the blanket fall to her waist. "morning." she grumbles out, her voice scratchy and deep with fatigue.
you gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from her, "morning."
nayeon whines as sana moves, slowly waking up as well, her arm curled around sana's thighs, trying to keep her still.
sana reaches around and pulls an oversized shirt on, patting her hair down. you're not sure if you're thankful or mournful she's covered up.
"what time is it?" nayeon's voice speaks up, laced with the same hoarse tiredness you're sure you all have right now.
sana picks up her phone on the bedside table next to her bed, you're not sure where yours is. "6."
"too early. come back to bed."
sana giggles then, putting her phone back down and running a hand through nayeon's hair. "don't you have a schedule to get to later?"
"yeah later."
"... we should talk anyway." she's strangely serious, normally the most energetic of you all, even in the mornings. it gets nayeon to look up, hair messy, squinting, placing her chin on sana's thigh.
sana smiles at the sight, you find nayeon's glasses next to her bed, reaching to hand it over.
sana murmurs her thanks, stretching out to grab it from you and gently placing it over the eldest's eyes. she looks adorable.
"how long have you been awake?" nayeon directs the question to you, finally able to see you were awake and looking at the two of them.
you smile, "not that long."
"is momo...?"
"still asleep."
"should we wake her?"
"she's not gonna like that."
"she needs to get up in a bit anyway. she has practice with jyp later remember?"
in agreement, you turn in your spot again, smiling at the sight of momo, mouth hanging open slightly, black hair framing her face. hesitantly, you nudge her shoulder. there's no response, so you nudge her again, a little harder. she groans, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers, "10 more minutes."
you giggle, "you said that 10 minutes ago."
she mumbles incoherently, drifting back into sleep.
you roll your eyes, nudging her again, except she doesn't respond. so you resort to different measures, your other hand that isn't being held captive by her, sneaks down between the two of you, and you start tickling her sides.
she squirms, blinking, waking up, whiny and giggly.
"s-stop- stop y/n- stop- i'm up i'm up!"
there's laughter from behind you as well, and momo sits up, pushing your hands away to stop you from your attack. not that she needed to, your eyes focused on something else as soon as the covers left her body. but of course, she bumps her head on the bunk, yelping, and cradling the top of her head, her hangover only worsening.
"okay okay guys- before we talk- i'm gonna need all of you to put on some clothes." you speak up, eyes still staring at momo's chest, almost drooling over her.
momo raises an eyebrow, before she shoves her chest into your face, rolling on top of you and squishing you.
"wha- momo- hey! no- mmf-"
you can hear everyone laughing as momo gets her revenge, pulling on the back of your neck while pushing out her chest, squeezing your face in between her breasts.
she finally breaks away once she's had enough, grinning and plucking a shirt down from her bunk on the top bed, pulling it loosely over her body.
"there. better?" she's kneeling on top of you, legs on both sides of your torso, shirt just long enough to reach past her top thighs. you gulp, eyes trained on the skin of her legs. momo rolls her eyes, pulling her shirt down a little more, coughing to get your attention.
your eyes snap back up to her with a blush.
she grins, leaning down easily and pecking you, rolling off of you again with one leg still thrown over your legs and cuddling into your side.
"morning losers."
"you're inconceivable momo."
"where'd you learn that word from? my ass?"
nayeon blushes, digging into sana's thighs. "throw me a shirt you little gremlin."
"get it yourself."
"you're on my bed!"
momo blinks, looking down at herself, finally coming to realise her surroundings. "oh."
sana laughs, pulls a shirt from under her bed and hands it to nayeon, "just borrow one of mine for now."
"sana i just got one for her!"
"give it to y/n."
"you just wanted to see her in your clothes."
"so?"
momo grumbles, handing the shirt she had grabbed for nayeon to you, helping you pull it on, hand skimming over the skin of your side and stomach.
“so…” you cough awkwardly, squirming under momo’s fingers that have stayed beneath your shirt, drawing random shapes into your skin.
“wait why do we need to talk?” she speaks up, leaning on her elbow, face on her palm looking across the room.
sana laughs, “is it simple for you now momoring?”
“is what simple?”
“i love your brain you idiot.”
“huh?” momo looks as confused as ever, too early to be thinking about anything.
sana takes a breath, gripping nayeon’s hand, “i like you. all of you.”
momo blinks, “we like you too.”
“i don’t want to kiss mina the way i kiss you momoring.”
“oh.” momo looks at sana, thinking, “but don’t you kiss everyone?”
sana laughs again, “is that what you think of me?”
she shrugs, “we kiss all the time.” she quickly corrects herself, not wanting to make the same mistake as last night, “and it doesn’t mean nothing. i’m sorry for saying that last night.”
the younger smiles, appreciates the effort, “you’re right. i kiss you all the time. no one else. i think you just get too dazed to notice anything else after we kiss.”
nayeon snorts, laughing loudly.
“what about dahyun last night?” you speak up, recalling the whispered words sana said to the younger trainee.
“we were playing spin the bottle. nayeonnie doesn’t like bambam even though she kissed him right?”
nayeon’s laughs turn into coughs very quickly, “absolutely the fuck not.”
“i was just making sure dahyunnie was okay with me kissing her, i told her it’d be really quick and i wouldn’t kiss her like i did momo. you don’t have to be jealous y/n.” she teases.
you whine, “i wasn’t!! i was just curious…”
“wait… is that why you left the game early last night?”
you feel your cheeks heat up, refusing to acknowledge the question.
“y/n!”
“what!”
“you should’ve told us! or me.”
“no way. i didn't even know what i was feeling. i just needed to get some air."
"will you tell us next time?"
"next time what?"
"next time you feel anything. even if you don't know what the feeling is."
you smile, pulling momo's hand that was creeping dangerously higher out from under your shirt, and interlocking your fingers, "yes. i will. i like you all too."
"blegh."
you and sana both look at nayeon with a frown.
"what?" she asks simply, crunching her nose up.
"nerd." sana pushes nayeon off her thigh, rolling her eyes.
"i'm not good with feelings!"
"get better with them then because i'm not dating an emotionless narcissist."
nayeon perks up, ignoring the insult, "we're dating?"
sana blushes, "i don't know. do you guys want to?"
"i do." you offer sana a reassuring smile, she's been leading the conversation this whole time and it took a lot of courage to do that. "momo, nayeon?"
"i don't think anything changes between us. except we all get to kiss and have sex whenever we want right?"
"momo!" you slap her hand lightly, she snickers.
"yeah. i'm pretty happy with that."
you all turn your gazes to nayeon.
she rolls her eyes, "as long as i get to top momo."
"just try it!"
"i will!"
you spend the rest of the morning, laughing, cuddling, doing things you'd always do together, but now with more freedom and less confusion.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
sometimes, you wish you had a different dream. a lot of the time really.
it hasn't been a good week. monthly trainee evaluations were coming up, and everyone could feel the pressure. there were rumours running around that jyp was preparing a survival show to debut the next girl group, and he was in the midst of picking trainees to participate, so everyone was on edge more than ever.
the one who had it the worst was momo.
you wince, curling in on yourself, knees to your chest, head resting on your knees, while you listen to your girlfriend dry heave in the bathroom.
nayeon's pacing around the room, obviously agitated, wishing she could do something to help. sana was in practice, you knew how hard she was working recently, she didn't need to worry about anything more right now.
"-stupid fucking trainers. they're all fucking blind she doesn't need to lose weight. they're gonna fucking kill her fuck-"
the bathroom door creaks open. both you and nayeon's heads snap towards it immediately.
nayeon rushes forward, holding momo up, caressing her cheek, brushing hair out of her face.
momo looks pale as a ghost. she's trembling, exhausted, you can barely stand to look at her without breaking down in tears. she knows. she knows how you all felt about her. so even when she's suffering the most, she still manages to crack a joke, "you care about me now im?"
"shut up momo. this isn't the time for that. you should lie down."
momo groans weakly, "can't. need to go to the gym."
nayeon explodes then, "what?! you are not going to the fucking gym right now momo. look at yourself! you're dying!"
"you still think i'm hot though right?" she grins. it has none of her usual sparkle, no mischief, just white teeth and lips.
"shut up or i'll kill you before you kill yourself."
the younger girl shrugs, you can see her bones with the movement.
"don't go to the gym. you already haven't eaten anything for the last five days. you haven't even drunk water for the last five days."
"yeah and i've still got 2 and a half kilos to lose."
"you don't- you shouldn't have to do that! you're skinny enough! you're going to die before you lose that weight!"
momo takes a shaky breath, you're surprised when a tear escapes her eye. even the fact that her body still has enough water to cry, and her not being the type of person to cry much in the first place, especially in front of other people, is shocking enough. she can't hold herself up any longer, collapsing onto the bed next to you. you open your arms immediately, lowering your legs, adjusting so she can lean all her weight on you. the feeling of her body against yours is terrifying. she's all bones. you can feel each rib, every pointy bone in her joints.
"i know. i'm so scared of dying." she whispers out eventually, still crying silently.
nayeon squeezes in as well, holding one of momo's hands, bringing it up to her lips to kiss it softly.
"i don't want to sleep. i'm terrified i won't wake up again. that i won't be able to see you guys again."
there are tears streaming down yours and nayeon's faces as well now.
"then eat. please darling. you need to eat." nayeon begs, wiping at her eyes furiously.
momo looks up at her weakly, smiling even now, "you know i can't. you'd both be doing the same thing if you were in my position right now."
you hold back choked sobs, burying your face into her neck. she can feel the tears staining it.
"it's okay. i'm gonna be okay. we're all going to be okay." her hand finds yours, squeezes both your hand and nayeon's.
"it's not fair. you're pretty much the same weight as me. why are they making you do this?"
she shrugs again, her sharp shoulders dig into your chest, "maybe they're testing me."
"for what?" nayeon says incredulously.
"dunno. if i have the willpower. if i'm ready to die for my dream. who knows."
"it's not willpower. it's fucking starvation. you're not even- you're all muscle. there's nothing to lose. the number on that scale is only higher because muscle is heavier than fat. and you wouldn't have all that muscle if you weren't the best dancer in this fucking company."
"you think i'm the best dancer?"
nayeon sighs frustratedly, "i know you are. darling... please. please just- some water- anything-"
"i can't. i'm sorry."
you've been talking in circles for days. the same thing, over and over again, begging her to eat, drink some water, rest. she's persistent though, hasn't broken once. when she first told you all the news, you were aghast, angry, but not surprised. you all thought you knew what it meant to lose 7 kilograms in a week, it was terrible, but it wouldn't be impossible. they wouldn't set you an impossible task. there has always been importance placed on your weight in this industry. they weighed you every morning before classes, tracked your progress, what you ate, how often you worked out, made sure you were kept consistently underweight, just how the public liked you. if they said momo needed to lose 7 kilograms to be attractive, to get a chance to debut, then she needed to lose 7 kilograms.
it wasn't until around the third day that you realised just what that meant though.
she collapsed in dance class. it wasn't an out of the ordinary experience, they put all of you on the edge of malnutrition, so there were always girls fainting left and right. but it was the first time for momo. and unlike the other girls who were instructed to eat better, momo was encouraged to keep doing what she was doing. because it was working, she was losing a kilogram everyday, more than that at the time because all her water weight was gone first.
so she came home that night proud that she had collapsed. they'd brainwashed her.
and so she kept on going. when all the trainees were off enjoying lunch, she had two fingers down her throat in the company bathrooms. when everyone retired to go home for the night and rest, she'd be running 10 miles an hour on the treadmill at the gym. naturally, her body started shutting down. she was losing too much weight too quickly, she wasn't getting the nutrients she needed to function as a human being, her body was in a state of panic, it was retaining as much weight as it could, it thought momo was in trouble, that it needed to protect her from all of these sudden changes, so it's natural she stopped losing weight at such a fast rate.
she didn't care if it was natural. all that mattered was that that number on the scale was 7 kilograms less than it was when she was first told to lose the weight.
on the outside, you could see how much it was affecting her, not just physically, but mentally as well. you were so confused what to do, you wanted to support her, and as a trainee who had the same dream as her, you understood why she was doing what she was doing, but you also didn't want her to die. you wanted your momo back, the one that smiled and laughed and played around with sana, secretly loving how affectionate sana was despite her outwardly 'cool girl' persona. you wanted the momo that teased and fought with nayeon, the only one that could bring nayeon back down to earth when she was getting too much in her head. you wanted the momo that kissed and pulled you into her whenever you shared a bed, that clung to you in the morning when you had to get up, whiny and pouty and sleepy. she was a shell of herself now. they had ripped the life out of one of your favourite people on the planet.
the door to your dorm clicks open softly.
you're all still cuddled up on the bed, squeezed against one another.
sana walks in, a tired smile on her face. it immediately disappears once she sees the tear streaks on all of your faces.
she rushes forward, cupping momo's cheeks, checking her pulse.
"i'm alive satang don't worry."
"did you eat?"
"you know i haven't."
sana's the most emotional of you all. just seeing her favourite people crying has her own tears welling up.
"oh satang not you too-"
"i can't help it. look at you momoring. why didn't you guys tell me?" she directs that to you and nayeon, frowning.
"you were at practice. we didn't want you to worry."
"momo is more important than practice."
"no satang. monthly evaluations are in two days. you're gonna make that lineup."
"i don't care if i make it if you die momo!"
"stop it. all this talk about- i'm not going to die guys. i'm fine, don't give up on me yet. i'm still here. if you all think i'm not going to make it then how am i supposed to think i'm going to make it?"
"that's not fair momo." you speak up, still cuddled into her neck. "this isn't- this isn't a daily worry. we live in the fucking twenty first century it's not normal to worry about whether or not you're going to live to see tomorrow."
"please momoring. here-" sana starts scrambling around in her bag, pulling out a thermos. "just one please-" she shakes out an ice cube, holds it out to momo in her palm.
momo stares at it, watches it melt, her mouth open, lips dry.
"please it's just one-"
"i-i... i can't-"
sana sobs, head falling into her elbow, crouched on the floor.
nayeon gently takes the ice cube from her, holds it in her palm, watching momo's gaze follow it.
"momo..."
"don't make me nayeon. please. i can't."
"i'm not. i won't." nayeon makes sure momo is still watching her, then she slowly takes the ice cube into her own mouth. she sucks on it, her cheeks hollowing out, melts it in her mouth slowly. when she's done, she opens her mouth, showing she's swallowed it all, then she asks, "do i look different?"
momo looks at her confused, "no?"
"if i went on that scale, how much do you think my weight will change?"
momo gets it, her face darkening again, "don't do this nayeon."
"just answer the question."
"...it probably wouldn't."
"right. look, here, y/n, have one." she reaches for sana's thermos, you hold out your hand, accepting the cold cube, then you pop it in your mouth, burying yourself back to your position in her neck, kissing the skin there gently with your cool lips.
she sighs on top of you.
nayeon's shaking another one out, popping it in her mouth, then she's giving one to sana who has her hand out, staring at momo with wide, hopeful eyes.
momo looks between the three of you, you all had so much love for her, you all just wanted the best for her. it was one ice cube. her body was screaming for it.
slowly, she holds her palm out.
you all stare at her with bated breath, almost in disbelief.
she smiles, "i've probably cried out enough for an ice cube right?"
sana lets out a broken laugh, nayeon's quick to shake out an ice cube into momo's palm.
momo stares down at it, brings it up to her mouth, takes a breath, then encloses her lips around it.
she sighs again, closing her eyes, reveling in the coolness of it, leaning back against you more.
you let her, leaning back fully until you're laid on the bed, spooning her. nayeon comes in behind you, squeezing herself against the wall, an arm coming up to rest on your midriff, her hand able to reach momo's side. sana clambers up as well, kissing momo's forehead and sniffling, looping an arm around her waist and snuggling in. after you had started dating you ended up pushing the two bunk beds in your room together so you could all share the bottom bunk, and so you could use the top bunks for storage space. it was still a little bit of a squeeze but the four of you didn't mind. you liked being as close as you all possibly could.
momo couldn't shake the thought that the ice cube melting down her throat would add on another kilogram or two, but she tried to focus on the feeling of her loved ones curled around her instead, falling into a restless sleep, praying she would be able to wake up and feel like this again.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
you grip your fork tightly, stabbing into your bland salad.
sana sits next to you, just as stiff, staring daggers across the cafeteria.
momo doesn't seem to mind though. she's happily munching away at her leaves. your heart softens a little at the sight, remembering how far she pushed herself last month, at least she was eating better now.
but then nayeon's laugh breaks through again, loud and bright. your jaw tightens at the sound.
"that's it." sana goes to stand but you tug on her hand, pulling her back down.
"don't."
"why not?" she spits, you've never seen her so livid. she was the happy charm of the company, people forget she could feel other emotions too.
"you'll cause a scene."
"good. then maybe he'll get his fucking baby hands off her."
"we can't. everyone will wonder why."
"why what?" she's still seething.
"why you have an issue with them. at worst they’ll think there’s something going on between you and nayeon. at best they’ll think you have a crush on him."
sana blanches, flicking her gaze over to you, “what?!”
“i don’t like it either. but we just have to trust her right?” you offer a smile, it’s a bit wonky and forced and sana sees straight through it, but it does get her to calm down a bit, taking a breath and slumping down in her seat.
“fine.”
“she loves you.”
“whatever.”
you smile genuinely at momo who looks at you in confusion, her mouth still full of lettuce. you shake your head, gesturing for her to keep eating and not to worry.
it’s not until later in the day when you have combined level dance practice that the issue comes up again. normally, he wouldn’t be near your class, sana and momo were naturally gifted dancers, so they were in higher level classes, and nayeon was an all-rounder, she was always in every top class to ensure she was around other people her level.
“they’d be cute wouldn’t they?” jihyo makes light conversation while you’re all stretching.
jeongyeon scoffs, “are you serious? he’s like… a baby.”
“he won’t be for that much longer.”
“gross dude!”
jihyo laughs.
“who are you guys talking about?” momo moves towards your group, mina in tow behind her.
“bambam and nayeon.”
“oh.” she drops down in a stretch, “what about them?”
jeongyeon snickers, teasing momo, “of course you didn’t know you airhead. bambam has a crush on her.”
“really?”
“yeah. did you see him almost wet himself when he got her during spin the bottle at jackson’s party?”
“it was so funny! and then when he went in to kiss her, that was so awkward! poor kid, i almost felt bad for him.”
“i don’t.” sana speaks up then, her teeth gritted, eyebrows furrowed, not even bothering to hide her gaze, staring at bambam and nayeon playing around in the mirror.
jihyo and jeongyeon exchange glances, confused.
“uhh… you okay sana?”
her eyes snap back up to meet jeongyeon’s, “yeah. fine, why?”
“you just seem a little… edgy.”
sana huffs, standing up again, “just tired.” she doesn’t say anything else, turning on her heel and leaving the training room.
momo catches your eye, tilts her head in question.
you shake your head, speaking up, “i’ll check on her.”
you jog outside, finding her near the water fountain.
“hey.”
“if you’re gonna lecture me again i don’t want to hear it.”
“no i wasn’t- i didn’t mean to lecture you at lunch. i just wanted to check on you.”
she sighs, sinking down into the cushion next to the fountain. you carefully sit next to her.
“i’m sorry. i just- i do trust her i just- i don’t trust him.”
“he’s just a kid sweetie.”
she scoffs, “yeah a hormonal pubescent teenage boy. they’re soo innocent, not like they don’t watch porn and jack off to every woman who even breathes near them.”
you’re about to reply when the door to the dance studio opens again, it’s nayeon.
she pokes her head out, looks up and down the hallway, and spots you, grinning. she jogs down to the both of you.
“hey! what are you guys doing here? class is about to start!”
sana doesn’t bother meeting her gaze, “oh so now you care about us?”
nayeon frowns, looks at you in confusion, you feel incredibly awkward, avoiding her eyes as well, “what’s going on?”
“nothing. go back to your boyfriend.”
“what?”
“you heard me.”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about sana. c’mon, let’s go to practice.”
“you don’t? is it that natural for you to drape yourself all over him?”
“what?”
sana finally looks up, eyes red and angry, “bambam. you know he likes you. why do you entertain him?”
“what? sana he’s just a kid-“
sana stands then, throwing her hands up in frustration, you keep your gaze locked on your shoes, “a kid! i’m sick of hearing that! so what if he’s a fucking kid? we’re fucking kids. you all think it’s so impossible that the im nayeon would ever like someone like him so it shouldn’t be anything to worry about right?! you know what sounds more impossible?! that im nayeon is in a polyamorous relationship with three other girls. three other kids!”
“sana! calm down don’t be so loud-“
“no don’t you tell me to fucking calm down. you see? we have to hide this. us. we can’t even talk about us in public. i was okay with that! because i still had you all. you were all worth it! but you could get with bambam right now and people wouldn’t even bat an eye. they’d celebrate it, congratulate him for pulling the girl, all while we can’t even hold hands in public without people looking at us weird!”
“but i- i don’t want to be with him! i want to be with all of you!”
“then don’t fucking laugh at his jokes, touch his biceps, compliment his fucking hair!”
“but- honey that’s all harmless-“
“you still don’t get it! you-"
the door opens once again, and this time it's momo's head that pops out. she frowns when she sees all of you, walking up, tilting her head in question.
sana huffs, "whatever. i'm not feeling like practice today. tell the instructors i'm sick please."
"wait sana-"
she turns on her heel and struts briskly away.
nayeon sighs in frustration, running a hand through her hair, "what is going on with her?" she mutters to herself.
you frown, the events of the day culminating, you wish nayeon could see where you were coming from, "she told you. i think it was pretty obvious." you didn't mean to sound so clipped, your tone just slipped out that way.
nayeon looks down at you, you were never one to talk back, you'd kept more of your emotions to yourself. "are you angry with me too then?"
"that's not it nayeon. look i don't want to fight. let's just go to practice."
you stand up, brushing past her, unable to look her in the eye. you can hear momo questioning nayeon behind you before you open the door to the practice room again, thinking over sana's words that left a heavy feeling in your stomach.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
after practice, you and momo go and grab dinner while nayeon has to go to another vocal lesson.
momo's still blissfully unaware, talking about how the dance practice was and how much fun she had in such a big class with everybody. you listen to her ramble with a smile, not wanting to burst her bubble.
it's unavoidable when you go home later that night and find nayeon alone in your dorm, freshly showered and typing away at her phone.
momo skips in first, kissing nayeon and grabbing some clothes to shower into, heading into the bathroom right after.
nayeon looks at you then, putting her phone down, "hey."
"hi." you shrug off your bag, taking off your shoes.
"where's sana?"
"i thought she'd be home by now."
she frowns, "i haven't seen her since..."
you bite your lip, growing slightly concerned, "should we call her?"
"i don't know if she would pick up for me..."
"right..." you take out your phone, scrolling to sana's contact and pressing dial. it rings for a little, and just before you're about to give up, she picks up, giggly and breathy.
"y/n!! i miss you! what's up!"
you squint, there was a lot of background noise, "sana where are you?"
"out! i'm having fun!"
"where?"
"i don't really know but i'll be home soon! i promise! i love you!" she blows a kiss through the phone and then she hangs up.
you stare down at her contact picture, it was of her and a hamster plushie momo had won for her when you had gone on a date to the carnival. you had all agreed it looked like her and she had hated it because she thought you were saying her chubby cheeks were the resemblance point.
"is she okay?" nayeon speaks up again, barefaced with her thick glasses on.
"i think so. she sounded... she said she'd be home soon."
"oh."
"yeah."
it's oddly quiet, awkward. you start shuffling out of your day clothes, picking out pyjamas for your turn to shower after momo.
"are we okay?" nayeon breaks the silence suddenly, eyes seemingly even bigger behind her glasses. she fiddles with her fingers nervously.
you sigh, moving around the small room to clean up a little, if only to give your hands something to do, so you had an excuse not to look at her. "i don't know. i think sana's less okay than me."
"but you're still... not okay?"
"i feel silly. momo doesn't even feel anything about it. i wish i was the same. i know you'd never cheat on us or whatever, i just- it's still hard y'know? watching you be like that with him. like- you wouldn't want to see me all over another guy right?"
"but he doesn't mean anything to me. he's just- he's like my little brother."
"i know that's why i feel silly. i know realistically you'd never leave us for him. but it still hurts sometimes- like- like you're dangling the fact that you can in front of our faces."
she's quiet for a bit. you risk it to sneak a glance at her. she has her eyebrows furrowed, thinking.
you sigh again, moving forward and standing next to the bed. you place your hand on her head, then start running your fingers through her hair.
"i'm sorry. i don't want to be- i'm not trying to be clingy or jealous or whatever i just can't help it. i- i- i love you."
she looks up at you, surprised. your hands move down to cup her cheeks, smoothing out the skin, there.
you lean down, pressing your forehead against hers, breathing softly, closing your eyes, appreciating her presence. then, you move the extra inch to press your lips together, just slowly, softly, only for a second or two.
when you break away, she doesn't let you go, holding onto your wrist and tugging you down gently, asking you to hug her. and you oblige. kneeling on the bed, letting her wrap her arms around you, and place another kiss on the crown of your head.
"i love you too. i'm sorry i didn't- i wasn't aware of how it looked on the outside. i never- because he doesn't mean anything to me like that, i didn't think anything of it. i didn't realise you guys may have taken it differently. thank you for telling me."
you peck the side of her hand that's right next to your face, holding yours. "it's because you're a T isn't it?" you joke.
she chuckles behind you, "yeah and all my girlfriends are Fs. emotional losers."
"repressed freak."
she rolls her eyes, brings you in closer, "i love you."
"you said that already."
"i wanted you to know again."
"looks like our F is rubbing off on you."
she whines, "are you not going to say it back?"
you smile, "i love you too."
when momo comes out of her shower, she curls into bed immediately with you all, tired from her day and wanting no more than to sleep with her girlfriends. she hopes you've all made up and the fighting can stop tomorrow.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
"did she come home last night?"
"it doesn't look like it."
"fuck she's not picking up her phone either."
"where could she be?"
"what are we going to tell the company?"
"she can't just have gone missing right?"
you're all stressing, nayeon's pacing around the room like she does when she's agitated, momo's trying to call sana's cell, and you're checking her socials and her friends to see if anyone knows where she is.
"what did she say when you called her again yesterday?"
"that she'd come home soon. there was a lot of background noise though, she said she didn't know where she was."
"you don't think she's in trouble right?"
"i don't know..."
"fuck! i never should've fought with her yesterday!"
"don't- no nayeon this isn't your fault at all don't blame yourself. we're going to find her." you step up, halting her pacing, grabbing her hands and squeezing.
she sighs, gritting her teeth, "fine. c'mon. let's go to class, we're late. maybe someone there has seen her.”
before she moves to leave, you cup her cheek, turning her back to you and kiss her in reassurance. she offers a smile when you break away, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
momo keeps trying sana's phone while you walk to the company building. by now, you were all relatively well known in the company, and the tension could be felt by newer trainees, they cleared the way as you walked past, not wanting to get caught up in anything.
you push open the door to the dance studio hurriedly, not in the mood for another scolding from the trainers.
but you freeze, spotting sana on the floor, stretching and getting ready.
"y/n? what's wrong?" momo tries peeking over your shoulder to see why you've stopped, and then she spots her as well.
"satang!"
sana looks up, there are obvious bags under her eyes, she's sluggish in her movements. momo pushes past you, dumping her bag down and rushing over.
"where were you?! we've been calling you all morning!"
sana squints, backing away from momo who was speaking too loud for her, "phone died."
"we were worried satang! why didn't you come home last night?" she says the last part in a whisper, not wanting to get sana in trouble with the watchful trainers.
you and nayeon have both entered now as well, nayeon stands behind you a little awkwardly, unsure of how to approach.
"i was out." sana says simply.
"but where?"
"doesn't matter. i'm here now right?"
"sana we were really worried." you speak up now, crouching down into a stretch.
she looks at you, her eyes are lifeless. "and now there's nothing to be worried about. i'm fine."
"what happened to you last night? you said you'd come home and then you didn't. where did you sleep? did you sleep? you look terrible."
she cringes, "gee thanks."
"you know i didn't mean it like that. what aren't you telling us?"
at that moment, bambam chooses to come over and greet you all.
"morning nayeon!"
nayeon is still focused on sana, frowning, but she greets him offhandedly anyway, "morning bam."
"what? no morning for us bambam?" sana speaks up with a teasing smile, it's anything but harmless.
"o-oh! sorry. good morning sana, momo, y/n." he bows to each of you.
"i get it. it's your crush on nayeonnie isn't it? she's so pretty right? and born to be an idol. i can see why you like her."
bambam sputters, completely unprepared, blushing bright red.
sana's smile is sinister.
"sana stop."
she looks at you innocently, blinking, "stop what? i'm not doing anything."
"sana!" behind you, mark suddenly appears, clapping bambam on the back. "last night was fun. you should invite your roomies next time! i'm sure bam would appreciate that wouldn't he?" mark elbows bambam with a snicker.
"oh i'm sure he would. i don't know though, i kinda liked it when it was just us y'know?" she sports a smirk, the one she uses when she wants sex.
mark blushes, muttering something and then dragging bambam away.
"what the fuck sana?" nayeon finally speaks up, glowering.
"what?" she blinks up.
"you were out with mark last night?"
"so what if i was?"
"we were fucking worried."
"and i told you i'm fine now. there was no reason to worry."
"we thought something bad could've happened."
"yeah well obviously nothing did right!? i don't get why you guys are so pressed. i just had a little fun, i needed it, and it was good for me."
"you mean he was good for you?"
"better for me than you were."
nayeon falters at that, hurt flashing across her face, "i'm sorry."
"what for?"
"i didn't listen to you yesterday."
sana shrugs, "it's fine. i get why you like it. i tried it. it's the attention right? it's nice to know someone else is in love with you."
"that's not- that's not what i was doing sana-"
"then what were you doing? you're with us right? so why are you flirting with other people? worried we won't last? backup options? attention?"
"sana- please- can we talk about this i don't-"
"we are talking about this."
"not here. alone."
"you ashamed of me?"
"no! sana what-"
"mark can hold my hand in public. he can kiss me in public. he can call me his."
nayeon clenches her fist, "does he?"
sana shrugs again, not bothering to answer, moving into another stretch. you can't believe her, what you're hearing, you've never seen her like this. never thought she could be like this. momo looks to be in shock too, sitting on her haunches, staring at sana with hurt written all over her face. sana ignores you all.
class starts.
you keep sana in the corner of your eye. she fools around with mark, teasing him, playfighting with him, and ignores the three of you completely. you try and understand where she's coming from, why she was purposely trying to hurt you. she just told you she loved you last night, this wasn't real. she was just doing this as her own personal form of revenge. she didn't mean any of this.
you had to keep telling yourself that.
as class ends, sana looks like she’s about to go out with mark again, but you quickly run out the door, tugging on her arm, “can we talk?”
her eyes soften when she realises it’s you, but she still looks unsure.
that is, until momo links her arm with yours, pleading with sana as well.
“alright.”
you quickly lead her into one of the empty recording studios, gesturing for nayeon to come follow before sana can change her mind. as soon as you’re all inside, you stand against the door, blocking any routes of escape.
sana scoffs when she sees nayeon enter the room as well, but with you in the way, there’s nowhere to run.
“what did you want to talk about?” her tone is cutting, she rubs in between her eyebrows, pushing out the tension there.
“you.”
“what about me?”
“how could you do that to us satang?”
sana sighs, glancing at momo, “you notice now momoring? how come you didn’t have an issue when it was nayeon?”
“w-what?”
“you knew bambam liked nayeon. why didn’t you have a problem when nayeon was hanging all over him?”
nayeon tries to protest but momo replies quickly, wide-eyed, “what do you mean? nayeon doesn’t like bambam though.”
“and i don’t like mark. so what’s the difference?”
“you went after him.” you interject.
“no i didn’t.”
“then how did you end up hanging out with him last night?”
“he saw me crying outside the company. he offered to listen and then to distract me afterwards. i had fun. he didn’t make me cry.”
“sana…” nayeon’s lower lip is wobbly.
“what?”
“…i’m sorry. for not listening to you. i should’ve given you a chance to explain yourself and understand where you were coming from.”
sana’s quiet for a bit, staring at nayeon, turning the words over in her head slowly. and then her own lip starts wobbling, throat constricting, tears welling up.
nayeon panics, “fuck- no i didn’t want to make you cry i didn’t- i’m sorry i made you cry the first time i didn’t- i’m sorry-“ she desperately wants to comfort her but she’s not sure if she can, still in an awkward sort of limbo.
sana closes it though, almost leaping into nayeon’s arms, burrowing her face into her neck and breathing out shakily, sniffling.
“…i’m sorry too. i knew what i was doing- i was being petty and stupid and jealous and i hurt all of you doing that.” she whispers into nayeon’s neck, but it’s quiet enough in the room that you can all hear her.
you breathe a sigh of relief, internal turmoil calmed for the moment. you walk forwards, wrapping your arms around the both of them, feeling momo do so as well on the other side.
“i don’t like him. i didn’t kiss or hold hands or do whatever else i said in there. i just- it really didn’t bother me before. that we had to keep this to ourselves. but then seeing nayeonnie with bambam acting so carefree and- and- everything, i just wished i could grab her and kiss her in front of him, so that everyone knew you were all mine, and that i’m all yours.”
“one day we’ll be able to sana. i promise. and i won’t- i’m not going to act like i’m not already spoken for anymore. i am all yours and i always will be.”
sana sniffles again, you’re close enough you can lean over nayeon’s shoulder and kiss her forehead.
“and i’m sorry for making you guys worry. my phone really did die though if that’s any solace.” she chuckles wetly.
“i have a portable!” momo quickly breaks away, running to her bag and pulling it out, handing it to sana with a proud smile.
sana returns it, thanking her and kissing her cheek, plugging in her phone.
“you were wrong about one thing you know.” nayeon speaks up again, the hint of a smile on her face.
sana stiffens, ready to argue again but not wanting to.
“korea is so homophobic that we can actually hold hands in public without people thinking we’re anything. we could probably get away with kissing on a few rare occasions too and people would still think we’re just really good friends. especially if we’re all kissing each other, they’ll just think we’re… all very friendly with each other and kiss as a sign of affection or something.”
sana laughs out loud, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, “you’re right. i don’t necessarily have to hide how affectionate i am with you all.”
“and you’re very affectionate satang.”
sana rolls her eyes, hitting momo lightly. but then, her phone lights up, and she seems to read over something. she takes a few seconds, and then she’s blinking up, fresh tears in her eyes, launching forward into nayeon’s arms again.
nayeon grunts, catching her and squeezing back, “i take it you saw my message.”
“mmsorry- i lov- too.” her voice is muffled, but it’s obvious what she’s saying.
you don’t know what nayeon’s text said, and sana refuses to share with you afterwards, saying “nayeonnie’s words are for me only, tell her to do it again for you.” knowing nayeon hates expressing too much, which makes it all the more special to sana, but you’re just happy everything is okay between the four of you again.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
there was something going on and everyone knew it. the rumoured survival show for a new debut group was apparently set to start filming soon. select trainees were being pulled out of practice and given the news, although they were instructed not to say anything about it in order to not cause discouragement amongst other trainees and to minimise media leakage.
your girlfriends had all been called up and informed that they would be participating. now you were all waiting in anticipation for your own name to be called out.
after the monthly trainee showcase, JYP himself comes to make the announcement.
"i'm sure you've all heard the rumours going around about the new group we're planning to debut. it's going to be televised nationally in a reality-type fashion, so even if you don't make it to the final lineup, making it onto the show itself will be a big deal already, getting your name out there for potential future plans. the name of this show will be..." he pauses for effect, "sixteen!"
there's thundering applause, but you can barely hear it, anticipating, praying he would be announcing the lineup and that your name would be there.
"it's sixteen for the chosen sixteen exemplary trainees that the staff have recognised and recommended. they will be competing for seven spots in this new group. all sixteen trainees have now been notified of their involvement, but if you haven't received any news, don't worry! i always have all of you in my mind, like god, your time will come! so please cheer on and support your fellow trainees in their journeys!"
did you hear that right? everyone chosen had been notified already? so you weren't chosen? you weren't good enough? all that training... all those hours slaving away... all those tears, doubts, connections you've lost, all for what?
you look around, other people are cheering, some are crying, some are in disbelief like you.
your feet move before you can think, pushing to the front of the crowd, grabbing JYP.
"sir- why- why didn't i make it?" you're desperate, huffing, on the verge of breakdown.
he looks you up and down, a frown appearing on his usually smiley face, "what was your name again?"
your heart sinks. he didn't even know your name.
and then a look of realisation comes across him, "oh! you're that girl that's always with nayeon, momo, and sana! you should be happy for them! they're all fantastic trainees, they'll make wonderful idols."
you blink, dumbfounded, mouth agape.
"b-but- i- what was it? was i not a good enough singer? dancer? am i not pretty enough?" you're grasping for straws, anything to help you cling on to the possibility of your dream.
he tilts his head, crossing his arms, "ah- you... perhaps it's because you're always with those three. you just don't... stand out. nayeon has natural star power, her voice is one of the strongest in the company. momo is the best dancer we have, probably one of the best dancers in your generation. and sana has a personality people gravitate towards, she can keep group morale up and maintain public image. let me ask you.. what do you have? because aside from being friends with genuinely talented people, you just seem... average."
your hand falls, head drooping, the words hitting you hard.
"don't take this too personal though! perhaps with them out of the way, you can really find your own light to shine now! i believe in you!" he smiles again, then he's off with a flourish, being guided away by busy assistants.
you stare after him in shock, a flashback of sorts playing through your head, of the hardships you've been through to get to this point, of the tears and sweat you've dripped, it was too much. you needed out.
again, your feet move before you have control over them. mind moving at miles a minute, body on autopilot.
you're back in you're dorm room before you know it, and then your suitcase is being pulled off the top bunk, laid on the floor, and you're stumbling around throwing things in haphazardly. you don't even register when the door opens and three sets of footsteps tread in, too focused on thinking about how to get out, whether you could get to the airport in time, what you would say to your parents, your family, the people standing at the door in surprise, watching you clumsily shove things into your suitcase.
"...y/n? what are you doing?"
you barely look at them to reply, voice light and distracted, "packing."
"where are you going?"
"home."
"what?"
you head into the bathroom, starting to pick off the things you needed, you could leave some things, not everything was going to fit anyway and some things you could throw away.
"y/n wait- stop- just wait-"
you ignore them, clattering makeup items falling out of order into toiletry bags.
"y/n!" it's nayeon, her hands gripping your wrists firmly, not too firm to hurt, but enough to get you to stop. you finally look up at them, the break allows you to really feel your emotions, tears welling up immediately.
"oh sweetheart." nayeon tugs you into a hug, running a hand through your hair comfortingly. you feel sana and momo surround you, placing their arms around you as well. the dams break open then, and you're sobbing into their arms, all of your emotions finally catching up.
you stay there for a few minutes, just crying it out, the girls hushing and soothing you, letting you babble nonsense and cry into their shoulders.
when you finally calm down, you're exhausted, slumping down into nayeon. she supports you immediately, and tries to peek at you from your position in her neck, but you refuse to look at her, your eyes puffy and nose red.
"do you want to talk about it?"
you shake your head.
"do you... still want to leave?"
you take a breath, unsure. "i don't know." you whisper honestly, "what do i have to do here if i stay?"
"you have us." sana says quietly.
you chuckle wetly, "you don't get it. you guys all made it. i'm never going to. i don't- i'm happy for you all i am but- my dream-"
"shhh- it's okay. we... we do get it my love. we were all on this journey together weren't we? we've all had thoughts we wouldn't make it. even nayeon." momo tries to lighten the mood a little.
"but- you've all made it now. i don't even- why would you still want to be with me? i'm not good enough. you all got through. i'm the only one who didn't. doesn't that- don't you think i'm just pathetic? how could you still like me?"
"what?! what are you talking about y/n?! we don't like you for your talent we're not some talent recruiters. we like you because you're you, you're sweet and funny and caring. i know it's hard because we're in this industry so it feels like we're all competing, but you can't- it's not like that for us. don't ever doubt our love for you again."
you sob quietly, emotions still a wreck.
"please don't leave. this doesn't mean anything. there will be other opportunities. your dream is still possible. we might not be able to debut all together like we always wanted to but- but you still have a chance y/n. don't give up on it."
you sigh, too tired to argue, letting them bring you to bed, giving you one of the coveted middle spoon spots and cuddling into you until you fell into a restless sleep.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
the next few weeks are absolutely hectic. for your girlfriends. you spent most of your time moping around, giving only about 50% in all your classes, motivation completely shot. it didn't help that the three of them started spending a lot more time together, as is expected when they have to prepare filming for the same thing. often you'd find yourself coming home after a long day of practice, and find them giggling and laughing about things you have no idea about, sharing inside jokes and talking about things that happened during their day that you'd be too tired or jealous to ask about.
they tried to include you of course, but you couldn't bring yourself to join in.
internally, you felt terrible. you knew you should be proud, happy, enthusiastic that all three of them were in the process of having their dreams come true. they had worked harder than all of you, they certainly deserved this opportunity, and they deserved you to be in their corner, supporting them and loving them like any other partner would do in this situation.
but you couldn't do it. jyp's words continue to ping around your head like an endless pinball machine. how you had always been in their shadow, how he never saw your worth because of them. a small, petty part of you blamed them. you hated that part of yourself, tried to squash it down as much as you could. but sometimes when you're laid in between them at night, their light breaths deep in sleep, those thoughts come back, and you can't help but be envious of their position, wondering why them and not you.
naturally, you started drifting from them, especially when filming actually started.
they were moved out to different dorms during the filming, split into major and minor dorms so that the film crew could get some reality content. they still texted you often though, asking how your day was every night, they still made every effort to make it work. it was you who really started moving away when they were no longer physically there to remind you they loved you.
you'd cry most nights. cuddling into sheets that smelled like them, watching episodes of sixteen, wishing you were there with them. you missed them.
and then momo gets eliminated.
it's brutal. you're confused when she shuffles into your dorm room, hood over her head, dark circles under her eyes, still red from crying.
you had no idea what happened, the episode hadn't aired yet.
but your heart breaks seeing your girlfriend. you immediately squeeze her in your arms, she bursts into tears again, sobbing, clinging to you, unable to make any words.
she tells you later when you're curled up in bed, what happened and how she got eliminated. when she drifts off to bed, you stare at her sleeping face, now devoid of tears, she looked peaceful. and those sick thoughts come back.
you felt grateful she was eliminated. she was brought down to your level again. she was just another trainee now. it was terrible, but you had her again, you weren't going to lose her. you should've felt angry, sad, disappointed her dreams were just ripped away from her after getting so close. but you felt relieved instead. what a terrible person you were.
soon enough, it's the finals.
momo's dyed her hair a light blonde colour and cut bangs. you went with her and helped her pick it out the day after she came home. she needed a fresh start, needed to forget the pain it felt to be back at square 1.
now you stood with her in the crowd with the other eliminated trainees. you nod at them politely, but you have your hand tightly gripped with momo's anxiously looking up at the stage waiting for your other two girlfriends to appear. you hadn't seen them in months and you'd missed them.
momo had talked your ear off about everything that happened while she was on the show. updated you on everything. it felt nice, to be included again, to feel needed, wanted.
and momo wasn't shy about how supportive she was of nayeon and sana. constantly bringing them up during the day, wondering how they were doing, if they'd eaten yet, if they were getting enough sleep, hoping they weren't thinking about her getting eliminated too much, praying they'll both make the final group.
you agreed with her each time, but she made you feel like a terrible girlfriend. she was what you were meant to be when she was still on the show. you try and make up for it in the last few weeks, making signs and pasting pictures of nayeon and sana on posters, making some for both you and momo to bring to the finals. she grins and kisses you on the head when she sees them, saying how sweet you were, how considerate you were. you smile guiltily, knowing that was far from the truth.
finally, the lineup starts to be announced.
you spot sana on the majors side already, nayeon still on the minors side. you have your fingers crossed, anxiously watching, momo's hand is white from how hard she's gripping yours, just as anxious.
nayeon's name is announced first.
momo bursts into tears, smiling, crying. she's so proud. you are too. she made it. you always knew she would. im nayeon was born to be a star.
and then, after the first seven are confirmed, sana's spot also secured, jyp makes the surprise announcement. it was going to be a nine member group. he announces tzuyu first, as the fan favourite.
and then, momo's name is read out.
momo is in shock at first, but trainees around you start clapping her on the back, congratulating her, and she starts sobbing again, covering her face as the camera pans to her. you quickly let go of her hand, not wanting to arouse any suspicions. she tries and looks at you but she's pushed up on stage before she knows it.
you can see nayeon and sana in the back, crying, in shock as well.
you can't even listen to momo's speech.
you feel like you're the only person in the entire venue again. it was quiet. you were alone. again.
your feet start to move on autopilot again. dissociating.
you manage to slip through the crowd, back turned, not realising the girls were searching the crowd, looking for you. wanting to share one of the most important parts of their lives with you. you were too selfish to let them.
you're at the dorms again, the suitcase is out, already half-packed from the last time you'd thought about doing this. this time though, they wouldn't be able to stop you. there'd be an afterparty, you were sure, they'll probably expect to see you there, they won't. then they'll come home, worried, and find all your things gone. the only remnant of your existence, a letter placed carefully on the bed.
dear nayeon, momo, sana,
firstly, congratulations. if anyone deserved those spots, it was you three. you've all worked so hard to get here, and i'm so proud of you all. your dreams are coming true. everything you've ever thought was out of reach, is about to become reality. you deserve all the fame, money, love, everything, and i know it's going to come your way, because i fell for you too.
i'm sorry. i'm not who you thought i was. i'm not a good person. and you deserve to be with good people. i'm leaving. for good this time. i'm sorry that i chose tonight to do this, when you three should be on top of the world, in a way, it's my own sort of revenge i guess. selfishly making you feel a little of what i've felt the last few months. it's why i can't be with you anymore. i'll only bring you down more. i loved you all. i didn't want to start hating you for being better than me, i wanted to keep the memories of our love pure and joyful. if i stayed, i'd grow to despise you for having what i've wanted for all my life. i didn't want that. i'm a terrible person, i could never ask for your forgiveness, only that you forget about me. forget me and continue living your lives under the spotlight, don't let me drag you back into the shadows. don't try and find me.
i'm sorry.
when they try and call you, you'll be on the flight home, your phone unable to receive any of their messages. you throw away your phone as soon as you arrive, buying a new one and starting your new life.
they barely have time to chase after you. you'd be grateful for that. they're thrown straight into schedules and planning for their debut.
eventually, you become a distant memory for them, as they do for you.
when you're older, you'll find a box you sealed away, filled with pictures of the four of you, young and in love. you'll sit there, thumbing through them, crying, wondering how you could possibly have let them go. you'll think back to your actions, appalled at the person you were, hating the industry for pitting you against them, and then realising it was your fault the entire time. you were young, stupid, greedy, you thought your dream mattered more to you than the girls did. now that you’re older, you realise you were so wrong. the girls were your dream.
you'll buy a ticket for their concert while they’re on tour, and you'll quietly cry to yourself again, seeing them in person, grown up, smiling, singing, doing what they loved in front of crowds of people who loved them as much as they loved you all those years ago. you'll think about making yourself known to them, but you'd hurt them enough. they seemed happy now, you had no place intruding on that anymore.
you were just another stranger now. you have been for years. and you had no one to blame but yourself.
#namosa#samoyeon#twice x reader#nayeon x reader#momo x reader#sana x reader#twice nayeon x reader#twice momo x reader#twice sana x reader#sana#momo#nayeon#minatozaki sana#hirai momo#im nayeon#twice sana#twice momo#twice nayeon#dovveri
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Emh fans when they're asked to stop sexualizing Evan Jennings and his characters because it makes him and his wife uncomfortable:
hope y'all are so happy with yourself for going against his wishes and being fucking freaks to him. You're all why he's barely online anymore. you cannot behave and you cannot be normal and you all have ruined what could be a very fun fandom.
Everyone in this fandom sees Evan as a piece of meat basically, you all only care about his character because Evan is a good looking guy. I mean!! let's be real here!!! let me quiz you on the lore!!! let me see just how fucking much you know about ALL the characters. let me see how much you ACTUALLY give a shit. Because all any of you do is post about how attractive you find Evan/habit and it's honestly so annoying.
I'm not saying you can't compliment him??? or appreciate his looks?? but drawing him in sexually compromising positions, writing in great detail about what you want him to do to you (PUBLICLY. no one gives a SHIT what you fucking do in private.) Or you're fucking mixing up habit and Evan, and just acting like you know his story when CLEARLY the most of you have watched habit compilations on YouTube and NOTHING else.
You cannot even convince me otherwise because I deal with people coming in my comments all the time asking about BASIC INFORMATION. like IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE PRINCETON TAPES ????? WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK????? YOU NEED THAT FOR THE SERIES. YOU CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND HALF THE THINGS WITHOUT IT???????
This isn't saying you can't write fanfiction or shit like that this is JUST SAYING BE RESPECTFUL?????? these slenderverse actors ARE NOT A LIST CELEBRITIES. they're not like fucking Oscar Isaac or whoever people are obsessed with right now. THEY'RE NOT FAMOUS. THIS IS NICHE. THIS IS NOT POPULAR MEDIA 😭😭😭😭
Emh literally made NO money from their series, they didn't create it to gain anything like that. they created something fun and NOW YOU ALL ARE THE REASON THEY HAVE NO PART IN THIS FANDOM ANYMORE.
you robbed them of being able to love their creation and I hope you're all happy about that honestly because it seems like this fandom is only gonna get worse in this area. and I'm deeply disappointed.
edit: I would like to add one thing, Vincent caffarello had to deal with situations of extreme sexualization as well, and his got to the point to where he had to leave. Vinnie used to be very involved with the fandom, he even used to read fanfic which he had to stop doing because people would be writing characters to SEXUALLY ASSAULT HIM or others and he just couldn't continue to read things like that. He delt with minors sending him explicit photos and messages and that's literally all kinds of FUCKED UP. He did NOT want to be involved with that stuff.
It's like when Evan had someone impersonate him to try to get with minors. THESE PEOPLE ARE NOT OBJECTS FOR YOU TO SEEK OUT PLEASURE WITH. THEY ARE PEOPLE.
they are HUMAN.
if they were women?? would you be doing this as much??? or would you realize how messed up it really is.
#everymanhybrid#slenderverse#emh#marble hornets#vinny everyman#vinnie everyman#habit emh#habit#jeff emh#evan emh#evan myers#evan jennings
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someone new
Synopsis: Post-war!AU. It’s the quite moments that Touya enjoys the most. Sometimes he still has a hard time believing they’re real. That you are real.
He has no problems allowing you to remind him of the latter.
Word count: 16K
Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)
Warnings: Mentions of post surgical interventions, Touya has hints of survivors guilt and some suicidal idealization if you squint, Smut and additional warnings listed below and on A03 so Minors or Ageless Blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+
Playlist: Omar Apollo - Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All)
Authors notes: Written for @shibaraki Komorebi collab! Thanks for having me love! Hope you enjoy!
Title is from Someone New by Hozier
**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!
Sometimes Touya wonders how he got here.
It’s a loaded question and he knows as much. He knows exactly where he is, and he’s painfully aware of the series of events that led him to this moment in time – but he often finds himself struggling to believe it.
A part of him doesn’t want to believe it – a gnarled, still-angry part of what remains of his soul is convinced that it’s all part of some elaborate dream – one that will fade away and leave him alone and bitter once more as soon as he opens his eyes.
He falls asleep again and again, trying to prove his theory, but every time he wakes back up, he’s still in the same place:
He wakes up in your sun-lit apartment, more often in your bed, with you – always close by, never too far away.
It’s where he is even now: nestled into the soft sheets of your—no, the bed you shared together, even though it’s pushing noon on a Tuesday. Despite his body screaming at him to move, he can’t bring himself to get up just yet.
It’s not like it matters if he stays in bed anyways, he doesn’t have anywhere to be. He doesn’t have his court mandated therapy appointment until Thursday, and it’s not like he has a nine to five job like most people do. Christ, he can’t even leave your apartment building without you or a Pro-hero escort with him. (Who, ninety-five percent of the time ends up being Shoto, since he’s about the only person who wants to deal with him these days aside from you, his mom, and sometimes Fuyumi and Natsuo.)
He rolls over slightly and listens for you, trying to hear the tell-tale tread of your footsteps echoing through the halls, or the sound of you humming a gentle melody under your breath as you do your menial chores around the apartment; before it finally occurs to him that it’s a weekday and you’re at work.
He stifles a groan as he finally pushes himself up, and makes his way towards the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door behind him.
That was his biggest problem these days: not wondering when his next meal would be. Not obsessing over ruining his father’s life as he had done his. Not charring himself past the point of no return as a means of exacting vengeance upon the world of Pro Hero’s that had long since turned their backs on him. No. That was all in the past.
For the first time in his life, it was boredom that was getting to him.
That was a joke if he ever fucking heard one.
Looking at himself now it’s hard to believe that he was once a homicidal serial killer, with a rap sheet several miles long.
He looks different now. He fights the urge to snort as he turns away from his reflection in your bathroom mirror while he goes about his business.
Like a snake that sheds it’s skin every couple of years, he’s changed his form once again; though this transformation wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter; what happened to him after the war was decided for him. His opinions be damned. (Though, if he thinks about it, he didn’t really give All For One and his fucked up scientist permission to piece him back together after he incinerated himself up the first time. The irony almost makes him laugh.)
He forces himself to face his reflection in the mirror as he begins the painstaking task of his skincare routine – burning turquoise eyes staring a little too long at who looks back at him.
The worst of his burn scars are gone, though the shadow of them remains. His two-toned flesh has been concealed by pale, raised skin, but he can still see the lines in his face from his first Escharotomy – a reminder of Dabi; always lingering, never fully gone, even if he wears a different face.
The rest of his body is like that as well. No longer is he marred by wicked burn scars and surgical staples; he is one even skin tone now. He is complete by all accounts, even though he feels anything but whole. The skin grafts aren’t perfect – they’re textured and prone to drying out, and the skin around his eyes always looks bloodshot – but for the first time in years, when he looks in the mirror; the person staring back at him actually looks like Touya.
It's not a perfect visual, but it’s still closer than he ever thought possible.
Truth be told, he still has a difficult time looking at himself in the mirror. It’s jarring honestly. He’d gotten so used to seeing the horrific scarring on himself, that seeing his reflection without them makes him feel like he’s staring at someone new.
The skin grafts he received at some point after his barely responsive body was all but dragged off the battle field, still itch sometimes, but he knows it’s all in his head. He can’t feel anything. He hasn’t been able to feel anything since he was discharged from the hospital he been taken to after he collapsed.
His memories of that time are hazy – he had been doped up on heavy narcotics and other nerve blockers as he was subjected to surgery after surgery in a desperate attempt to fix his scorched body – so much so, that he doesn’t know how long he was out for, or how much time passed while he was in recovery.
He remembers Shoto coming to visit him shortly after waking up from the worst of his many surgeries, and explaining that while the doctors had been able to successfully graft new skin onto him, (how his mangled body had been able to withstand another set of skin grafts was beyond him), they hadn’t been able to fix his damaged nerve endings, and had opted to cauterize the few that still worked; leaving him completely numb to any and all feeling.
Truthfully, he hadn’t cared at the time, he hadn’t been able to feel much of anything for years before that, and the little he was still able to feel was nothing but chronic pain, so at the time he has seen the news as a blessing.
And then he met you.
Shortly after that, he found himself cursing the fact that he couldn’t feel anything at all.
-----
He remembers the first time he met you.
After he had been cleared to leave the hospital, he had been taken to a heavily fortified psychiatric ward, eerily similar to the med-bay in Tartarus: all sterile white walls and armed guards. His room hadn’t been much better: just a mid-sized white box with a cot and a small window for him to look out of, though there wasn’t much of a view outside. He had no idea where the fuck he was anyways.
There he had started his rehabilitation.
It was hell. The first few months he spent there, he adamantly refused to speak to any of the doctors or physiatrists who came to work with him. Some were more persistent than others, poking their nose into his past (like he hadn’t just aired his dirty laundry out for all of Japan to witness), and those were the ones he got pissed off at the most.
In another life, Dabi would have had no qualms about turning the doctors to ash, just like he had done to everyone else who had annoyed him in the past, only; he wasn’t Dabi anymore. He wasn’t sure who he was now.
It didn’t help he had been hopped up on quirk blockers that canceled out his quirk, otherwise he probably still would’ve tried to incinerate them. But he couldn’t, and for the first time in his life, Touya Todoroki was fucking cold.
Turns out his quirk did a wonderful job of insulating him against the ice he kept hidden inside his chest all along.
He supposed he couldn’t blame them for rendering him quirkless while at the facility. Hell, he’d render himself quirkless if he was a staff member, having to deal with someone like him. Footage from the fight with his father and the all-out brawl with Shoto had been leaked to the public, showing his quirk’s true power in all of its devastating glory.
He had been told the aftermath of both fights had done irreversible damage to the surrounding areas, and no one was sure if they’d be able to fix the carnage he had created.
Good. The bitter, angry part of himself thought when he had been inadvertently told of the news. Suffer like I am.
He had been kept in isolation most of the time as the doctors tried to figure out what to do with him. His family hadn’t been allowed to visit him yet, and for that he was grateful – he hadn’t been particularly keen on seeing them after his recovery anyways. It was still too soon to face them, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the inevitable aftermath of what was to come. In the meantime, he still refused to respond to any of the medical staff who came to try and work with him, outside of sarcastic remarks and biting jabs that made the whitecoats squirm in their seats, much to his enjoyment.
Curiously, during one of the very few times he did speak to one of the doctors responsible for his treatment; he found himself asking about what happened to the rest of the League. Of course, no one would give him any answers aside from the fact they were alive and they were in custody.
He was more relieved than he thought he would be.
More time passed, and he still refused to open up to any of the staff who came to see him, though he had become more vocal with them – aggressively so – to the point he started to notice there was a continuous rotation of people now; it wasn’t just the same staff he was used to seeing when he first arrived at the facility.
Turns out, even the professionals were still scared of him – quirk or no quirk, his fiery reputation preceded him.
Eventually, the facility couldn’t keep cycling through their therapists, so they had switched tactics. Whether it was out of desperation, or the fact he made so many professionals break down after a session with him, he wasn’t sure, but he can’t say he regrets his actions, because in the end, he met you.
He remembers the day you met for the first time.
He had been forced out of his little cell and taken to one of the treatment rooms where he spent most of his time outside his own room. He had been shoved in there before he could make a snarky retort, and then… he saw you.
You had been sitting on the couch adjacent to the spot where he normally sat during his apptioments. He had been so stunned to see someone new, he’d been rendered silent. You’d looked up towards him, and for the first time since he arrived, you smiled at him.
“Hey.” You’d greeted him casually. He hadn’t responded, still unsure of who you were and what you were doing here instead of the usual staff.
You nodded to the couch across from you. “You wanna sit?”
He sat.
He fully expected you to introduce yourself, but you hadn’t. You’d just leaned back into the couch you were seated on and crossed your legs, giving him a content smile as you regarded him casually.
A few beats of silence passed. You didn’t speak and neither did he. A few minutes passed, then a half hour, and then an hour. Finally, one of the assistants came to bring him back to his room.
He stood up to go but you still didn’t say anything. He’d allowed himself to be taken back without a fuss but, he didn’t think anything more about it. The next day it was the same thing. He was taken out of his room back to the same treatment room, and surprisingly, you were already there waiting for him.
You gave him a little grin and nodded to the couch opposite you, and just like the last day, he sat.
Once again, you didn’t say anything, which was unusual, since all of the other doctors had always started off the conversation, but you sat in silence across from him – the gentle smile never leaving your face all the while.
A half hour of silence passed before he finally broke. “So, what exactly is this?” he remembers his voice sounding dry and scratchy after weeks of misuse. “This the part where you try and butter me so I’ll talk to you?”
You’d grinned at his remark. “No.”
“No? Then what the hell are you doing here? Is this some new technique the therapist’s showed you to try and get me to spill my guts to you? Reverse phycology or some shit?”
“Nope. None of that I can assure you. Actually, if I’m being honest, I’m not even a doctor.”
That caught his attention.
“The hell do you mean you’re not a doctor? How the are you in here then?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”
He remembers being completely caught off guard by your answers, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit intrigued by you. He remembers squinting at you carefully – taking you in – and for the first time, he saw you. Really saw you.
He could tell that you weren’t lying to him about not being a doctor. You were dressed casually, though you were still covering up a fair amount of skin – no doubt something they told you to do ahead of time. You looked more alive than the rest of the staff in this place as well.
He was loathed to admit it, but you were pretty.
He remembers you flashing him a knowing grin, clearly able to tell he’s been shamelessly checking you out, and it was enough to make him recede back into his shell; his walls going back up once more, as he rolled his eyes condescendingly at you.
“So what’s your angle then?” He’d asked you. “You’re not a doctor but you wouldn’t be in here with me if you didn’t want something from me.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I was simply here to talk?”
That had gotten a laugh out of him. A short breathless laugh, but it was the first one he’d uttered since he’d tried to incinerate himself along with his father. It felt weird leaving his throat, foreign even, and he’d cut himself off as soon as the sound exited his mouth. So, he settled for snickering instead.
“Really now? You want to talk to someone like me? Why do I not believe that?”
You had sighed, and leaned forward so your forearms were supported on your knees, fixing him with a stern gaze. The intensity of it had made him flinch before he remembered who he was. He returned the look best he could, but it hadn’t deterred you in the slightest. Instead, you sighed again.
“Look I’ll be honest with you: the staff here filled me in on your situation. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but from how it was explained to me; your family wants you back home with them. They’ve made a bunch of deals with the authorities about getting you out of here and not spending the rest of your life behind bars, but you have to successfully go through rehab first. The reason you’re here is so they can determine that you’re not a threat to society or to yourself, but the staff don’t seem to be having much luck getting through to you, and they’re desperate. They sent out a request to bring in outside help and I applied. They picked me because we’re the same age, and well… no one else really wanted to. Turns out most people are pretty scared of you.”
“Fucking figures. And you’re telling me you’re not?”
“Of you? No.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not. I’m a little nervous maybe, but I’m not scared.”
That had made him pause. He’d swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling like it was packed with cotton.
“Why’s that?” he’d finally asked you after a moment.
You had gone quiet, seemingly mulling over his question before you finally responded: “I think you have a lot to say. More than you already have, and more then what people think. To be honest, I want to hear it.”
He had laughed again, but this time it sounded forced, even to him.
“If you watched my broadcast then you know it all already.”
“Oh, trust me, I think the whole world saw your broadcast, not just Japan. No one would shut up about it for weeks. But I think there’s a lot more to you. I think a part of you wants to talk to someone else – none of that scripted bullshit – and I want to talk to you. Honestly, I think you’re pretty fascinating.”
He had been very tempted as ask you if you had a thing for villains, but he held off.
“You must be crazy if you find talking to me enjoyable. The other quacks can’t even stomach me, let alone stand to be in the same room as me for more than a few minutes. Just how fucked up are you really?”
You’d grinned and wiggled your eyebrows mischievously at him as you leaned back and spread your arms out along the back of the couch. “The only way you’re going to find that out is if you agree to talk to me. I don’t just give up all my secrets willingly you know.”
It was his turn to go quiet as he thought about your words over and over in his head, taunting him. He hadn’t been in any rush to leave the facility and go back to his old house, even if his mother and siblings were waiting for him. On the other hand, this was the most enjoyable conversation he’d had with anyone since coming to this white hellhole they called a hospital.
He figured maybe he would entertain you for a little while. If nothing else it would get you off his back.
You were lucky you were attractive.
The sound of your voice calling out his surname brought him back to the present.
“Mr. Todoroki?”
“… Fine.” He had finally relented. “We’ll see who you really are, and for fuck’s sake don’t call me that. I’m not my fucking father.”
“What do you want me to call you then?”
“D—” he stopped short. Was that his name any more? Did he get to call himself that after everything was said and done? It was the name he had given himself when Touya died all those years ago, but for some reason, saying it now just seemed wrong.
“…Touya.” He finally muttered. “Just Touya.”
You had smiled at him and for some stupid reason, it made his heartrate pick up. Just a little.
“Okay then. Touya it is. It’s nice to meet you.” You extended your left hand, and he had clumsily fumbled around for a moment before shaking your hand. As soon as your hands touched, and he felt the gentle pressure of your hand in his own, he was struck with the realization that this was the closest to human he’d felt in God knows how long. The other doctors that would come in and out of his cell treated him like he was some kind of feral animal, but you had extended your hand to him without any shred of fear or disgust.
Once you’d both settled back into your respective couches, he’d shrugged.
“So, what now then?”
“Now we talk I guess.”
“About what?”
“I think that’s up to you. The people who brought me in here didn’t specify what we have to talk about, but I am supposed to tell you that I can’t talk to you about the UA students, politics, current or former hero’s, or the League.”
Fuck. It didn’t seem like he’d be getting any answers out of you regarding his former group either.
“…fine. Ask away, I guess.”
To his surprise, you shook your head. “Can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I’m the one doing all the asking, then we’re only going to talk about things from my perspective, which isn’t the point. The only way this is going to work is if you talk to me first.”
That’d had thrown him through a fucking loop. Ever since he had arrived at the ward, all the doctors had done is talk at him, hoping he’d respond eventually. You may not have been a doctor, but you made for a better conversation then any of them ever did.
“…Well… Where am I supposed to start?” he’d finally asked, feeling like an idiot. To his immense relief, you’d simply shrugged.
Wherever you want. From the beginning maybe? It might be easier that way.”
He remembered swallowing hard. “Alright… from the beginning then.”
He remembers pausing and looking up at you, taking you in. “What the hell is your name anyways?”
You told him with a smile, and that was how it started.
For the next year, you came to see him almost every day.
He was taken to the same room where you were always waiting for him without fail at the same time every day. Even though at that point, he’d rather choke than admit it; he began to look forward to your visits – finding that they gave him a reprieve from his mundane existence at the mental ward.
He knew the doctors were always listening and recording everything you talked about during the hour you were together, but he found he didn’t care as much as you managed to keep the meetings interesting.
True to your word, you wouldn’t talk to him about current political events, or any news related to heroes (he knew better then to ask anyways), but you were open to chatting with him about anything that he wished to talk about, even though conversations were often hard for him to start – but you were kind and patient with him, more so than anyone had ever been to him for the majority of his miserable life.
He found himself growing found of you, the little smiles you give him when he’d sit across from you, bringing a hidden grin to his own lips, though he was quick to push it down, never letting his passive façade drop for more the a few seconds, lest his supervising doctors notice and assume shit, as they tended to do.
You may not have been a licensed doctor, but you helped him more than any of the ones who worked at the medical ward did.
There was a gradual shift in your relationship as time passed. Around the six month mark he could feel it, and he was almost positive you could too.
Your conversations had become more fluid, more casual. You were relaxed as you could be around him, and he found himself opening up more and more to you without being prompted. Most times he liked to keep the conversation light, but every so often, he’d tell you bits and pieces about his childhood – before everything had gone to shit. He never bothered telling you about everything that happened after Sekoto; he didn’t want to tell you about the years he spent on the streets, or his time in All For One’s medical center with the other children turned Nomu’s, and to his immense relief, you never asked him to.
In return for his openness, you rewarded him with tidbits from your own life growing up. You didn’t name anyone specific (he couldn’t fault you on that one), but you’d tell him about your childhood and some of the adventures you’d had when you were young, well into your teen years.
He learned that you were born an only child to your parents, raised in a caring household. All the idealistic, quaint things that he had wished from his own family. He’d told you as much one day, prompting you to laugh softly.
“Not always.” You’d told him quietly. “I had my own pressure on me when I was growing up. My parents and I fought a lot. We rarely saw eye to eye – they didn’t agree with a lot of choices I made when I was younger, but it was okay aside from that.”
“Still sounds like your parents were better than mine.” He’d told you with a bitter smirk. “My dad’s an abusive asshole, and my mom—”
It was then he realized that he struggled for words to properly describe her. Broken images from his fire fight with Endeavor had come back to him, and he remembered his mother’s fierce determination to try and cool him down – to save him – even as the heat was melting her flesh. She had thrown herself into the fray to try and stop him from ending it all without a second thought for her own safety. Up until very recently, he would’ve described his mother as weak and submissive, always bending to his father’s whims, even though he knew she didn’t have much of a choice back then, but now… that description didn’t seem to fit her anymore.
“—she used to be a doormat for dear old dad to walk over when I was a kid… but she’s changed. She’s a lot stronger than I remember her being.”
“I saw bits and pieces of your fight with… him.” You’d admitted quietly then. “I saw the aftermath. Your mom, your siblings… they all ran in to save you.”
He’d fallen quiet at that, not truly knowing what to say, but when he looked up again, you had offered him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry if this oversteps a boundary but… they never forgot about you Touya. Even if it felt like they did, they never stopped thinking about you.”
For once, he remembered being grateful that his tear ducts were permanently sealed shut, because he suddenly found himself in danger of crying. The tell-tale prickling behind his eyes caused his face to scrunch up as he pushed the thought of his mom and siblings down. He had quickly forced his expression to go back to neutral, and prayed that you hadn’t noticed the switch, but if you had, you didn’t comment on it – another thing he liked so much about you.
Instead, you asked him something that caught him off guard.
“Have you seen them? Your family? Since you were placed here?”
“No. Didn’t think they were allowed to come here. Why?”
“I think… maybe you should let them come see you – your mom and siblings I mean. Not you know who. I don’t think you’d be doing yourself any favours.”
“Why?” He remembers pressing you. “Have you seen them?” You’d shook your head.
“No, I’ve never met them, but I think it might help if you sit down with them and actually talk to them one on one. You must be getting so bored just talking to me day in and day out.”
“No!” he remembers saying a little too quickly, causing another one of those knowing smirks to creep up your lips. “I—no, you’re fine. I like talking to you.”
“Do you not want to see them?” you had asked him seriously. “Is it too soon? I understand if you’re not ready. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. No one can make it for you.”
“… I’ll think about it.”
Because in truth: there were things he wanted to say to them, and conversations he wanted to have.
In the end, it was you who finally convinced him to let his family visit. They had been cleared to see him at the faculty a few months prior, but he had always declined a visit from them, not wanting to see them so soon, since the last time they were all together had resulted in him almost melting his mother, Fuyumi and Natsuo.
There had been strict rules set in place for his family’s visitations: only one person could see him at a time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed. they weren’t allowed to talk about outside events with him, and finally, under no circumstance was Endeavor allowed anywhere near the faculty. He was fine with his mother and siblings coming to see him if they wished, but he didn’t want his father to be anywhere near him.
He wasn’t ready to see him again so soon. Even after his apologies. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to see his father again.
Thankfully the faculty had minimal difficulty honoring his last wish, as it seemed that Enji didn’t want to be around him either – or maybe he was purposefully keeping his distance. Either way, the old bastard wasn’t around him, and he figured it was for the best.
Once again you had been right; seeing his family again had been as cathartic as it had been terrifying.
There had been tears (from his family – he still was unable to cry), and there had been a lot of long, overdue heart-to-heart conversations with them of things that should’ve been said long ago.
It had been hard to sit down and listen to each of his family members without feeling the intense urge to get up and run when the guilt became almost unbearable, but he had forced himself to sit through it all for their sakes (and even his own), and soon he found himself scheduling more visits with his family, as well as seeing you for your daily interactions.
You never prompted him to tell you how his now daily visits with his family went, but he’d told you anyways – not what was discussed, that would stay with him – but he had told you about his favourite visit. Hilariously, it had been with Shoto; something he never thought he’d ever say.
He’d told you about how Shoto had brought him lunch from the outside the day before. It wasn’t anything special; just piping hot udon noodles with vegetables in pork broth. They had sat down in silence and eaten together, sharing a meal for the first time in their lives. Nothing had been discussed, and yet everything had been said.
It had been nice. Comfortable, even.
He remembered telling you with a soft smile on his face, and you had pointed it out, causing him to scoff and wave you off.
“It’s better food then the shit they feed me in this prison. Seriously, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”
“Well, once you’re cleared to leave, I’m sure you’ll be able to eat all the udon you want with your brother.” You’d told him as you tucked your feet under you. He’d shrugged, brushing you off, but you were ever observant, and had called him out on it.
“Do you not want to go back to them once you’re able to leave this place?”
It was a simple question in theory, but it wasn’t easy to answer.
He’d shrugged again. “Don’t really know if I can. Not after everything. I won’t go back if he’s there.”
“I don’t think they’d push so hard for you to come back to them if he was.” You reasoned with him gently. “Where would you want to go, if not there?”
You and your questions. Most of the time they were harmless, but sometimes they really made him think. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an answer for you at that point, and you had quickly switched the conversation topic.
At that point, he’d be lying if he said he was thinking about what he’d do once he was released. Truth be told he hadn’t thought about it much at all. To him, it felt like he’d be in the psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future. He had no real plans for what he’d do once he was out. Maybe he would go back to his old house with his family, or maybe he’d try staking out on his own since that was what he was used to, if he was even allowed to go off on his own. He wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do once he was let out – but he certainly wouldn’t be free, he knew that much.
Maybe he’d try and reconnect with the League – assuming that any of them were even allowed to be released from custody.
It still bothered him on some level that he had no idea about what happened to them after the dust had settled. He had been carted off the battle field before any of them, after his attempt at going nuclear failed, and had been in and out of the hospital and the physiatrist wing ever since.
When he had first arrived, he’d asked the staff about what had happened to the remainder of the League, but they hadn’t told him anything aside from the fact they were alive – but he wasn’t sure how much of that he believed.
The only one he’d really trusted in the whole building was you. He knew you weren’t allowed to talk to him about any villains or heroes, but maybe if he asked you discreetly, you’d be able to tell him something more than what the medical staff had. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, but the curiously was eating away at him.
Finally, one day he risked it, and asked you if you knew anything about the fates of his former teammates.
You had paused after he’d voiced his question, and went quiet for a moment, seemingly debating on what you could say to him. For a moment you looked like you were almost about to tell him that you couldn’t say anything, but the look on his face must have been desperate enough that you cracked.
You had given the cameras in the room an unreadable look before sighing loudly. “I don’t know where they are exactly. I never looked into it, and it isn’t public knowledge anyways.” You told him gently. “What I do know is that they’re alive, and they’re in different treatment centers receiving help. I know they were beaten badly and some of your friends almost died – but as far as I know, they’re doing okay.”
You’d then sat straight back up on your chair and loudly proclaimed, “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to say that much to him, right? Don’t take it out on him or me once we’re done here.”
It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but at least they were alive, and were in similar situations to him. It made him feel slightly less alone.
When the timer beeped shrilly, signaling that your hour was up, you had stood up to leave just as you always did, but before you could say goodbye to him, he’d quickly lunged forward and grabbed your hand, incasing it with his large cold one.
You’d stared at him in shock, as he’d never made a move to touch you once in the six months, you’d been visiting him, but before any of the guards could rush in and pull him off, he’d let your hand drop, but not before muttering a quiet “thank you” under his breath to you, before backing off and allowing the armed guard to escort you out of the room.
He distinctly remembers feeling the pressure of your small hand in his own, but he hadn’t been able to feel anything else aside from that. He hated it. He suddenly found himself hating that all of the nerves in his body had been severed, rendering him unable to feel anything. He couldn’t feel the texture of your skin against his own, or if your hands were cool or warm like his.
He was forced to admit to himself that for the first time since he’d left the hospital; he wanted to feel something again.
He wanted to feel you. But he couldn’t, and it aggravated him more than anything.
There was another thing he remembered distinctly about that day as you were leaving him behind: For the first time since you had started your daily interactions with him; you had looked back.
You had looked at him like you were seeing him in a different light.
He didn’t see you for a few weeks after that. When he had been pulled from his cell, and into the room where you usually met him, he was instead greeted by several doctors that had overseen his treatment when he first arrived.
He had asked them where you were, and when they refused to answer his question, he had immediately become hostile and threatening. The walls that were slowly starting to lower since he first met you went straight back up, and Touya turned into Dabi once more.
For the first time in roughly seven months, he lashed out (quirk be damned), and was immediately taken back to his room and put on lockdown. He wasn’t allowed visitors, and the only times he was allowed to leave his cell was to go back to the same room with the same doctors who poked and prodded him – asking him increasingly invasive questions, until he shut his mouth and refused to speak to them once more. One last act of defiance on his end since he still didn’t have use of his quirk.
When it had become apparent to the doctors and specialists that he refused to speak to any of them, they stopped taking him out altogether. He spent countless hours staring out the tiny window in his room, basking in the weak sunlight and taking in the menial views he could see from his window.
He had wondered where you had gone; if you had been forcefully sent away after he had asked about the League. He hoped that wasn’t the case – he liked you, probably more then he should if he was honest with himself – and you were just about the only person he could actually carry on a conversation with in this shitty place.
A few more weeks in solitary had him about to snap. He had reached a point where he was about to try and strike a deal with the overseeing doctors about bringing you back if he answered their shitty questions, when one of the armed guards opened up his door and guested for him to follow.
Once again, he had been taken back to the same observation room, but to his pleasant surprise; you were there waiting for him.
You had beamed at him and before he could think about what he was doing, he had crossed the room towards you in three long strides until he was standing directly in front of you. He had begun to lift his hand up towards you, only for his action to halted by a curt bark from the guard who was still standing at the door. You had shaken your head, motioning to the guard you were fine and sent him on his way. As soon as the door had closed, he rounded on you.
“You left.”
You had nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips. “I did, yes. Not really by choice though.”
“Why did you go?”
You’d barked out a laugh. “I’ll be honest, the supervisors weren’t too happy with me when I told you about the League. I broke one of their rules, so they told me I had to go for a bit.”
He’d narrowed his eyes, confused. “But now you’re back.”
You’d given him a slight smirk. You turned to sit down on your usual spot on the couch, but this time, instead of having him sit across from you, you’d gestured for him to sit beside you, which he’d done so embarrassingly fast.
“You’re very stubborn.” You’d told him with a light laugh. “From what I was told, you refused to talk to anyone after I left – heard you got downright nasty with some of the staff, and they put you on probation. They called me a few days ago almost begging me to come back. Guess they felt you made the most progress when you were talking to me.”
You’d given him a look that was hard for him to read. “Why did you snap at them?”
He figured there was no point in lying to you – you’d find out somehow. “Didn’t know where you went. Fuckers wouldn’t tell me, and they kept prying into my shit. Didn’t want to talk to them so they put me in solitary.”
He remembers you looking sad at his answer. “I heard you were in there for several weeks. I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to happen to you. Not on my account. I didn’t… I don’t want to be the reason your release got delayed.”
For some reason, it bothered him that you blamed yourself for what happened, and he reached out to gently take hold of your wrist. To his surprise, you hadn’t stopped him, or made any move to pull your hand away from his, so he allowed himself to rub circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, even though he couldn’t feel it.
“Not your fault. Don’t worry about when I’m getting out. It’s not like it really matters anyways.”
“Do you know why they were pushing you so much?” you’d asked quietly, still not making any more to remove yourself from his hold. He’d shook his head and you’d simply leaned into him, damn near making him freeze up in surprise at your boldness.
“They told me that they’re planning on releasing you soon – with restrictions of course – but they were thinking that you’d be able to leave here sooner than expected. That was before your outburst, but if you’re willing to just hear them out and answer their questions, it’ll help speed up the process.”
“They seriously think that I’m fit to send out into society again?” he remembers scoffing, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Pretty sure the majority of them think I’m an irredeemable sociopath.”
“They’ve seen the way you act around me and your interactions with your family. You’re not perfect, but you’re trying, and sometimes that’s all you can do.”
“You do realize I have killed people, right? I’ve maimed countless others. They’re… not exactly wrong about me.”
Surprisingly, you’d simply rolled your eyes at his statement, acting like he’d just told you the sky was blue. “Of course I know that Touya. I’m not overlooking what you did. But they—your family – are fighting hard to try and get you another chance, a fresh start. They think you deserve it, and they’re out there right now, day and night, trying to convince others that you deserve a second chance too.”
You had twisted your hand in his so your palms were kissing, fingers laced together, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears as you gave him that damn smile of yours.
“You’re right: the past never dies, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be your future as well.”
That simple statement had stunned him. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had anything to say in response to you.
He remembers fighting an internal battle in himself, trying to find something to say to rebuttal what you were telling him. A part of him understood why his family was fighting for his uncertain future outside the psychiatric ward, but on the other hand… he didn’t necessarily believe that he deserved it.
What kind of life would he be able to have even if he was allowed to be released? He had never planned on living this long, as morbid as that was. His original goal had been to go out in a fiery hell-blaze with his bastard of a father, but clearly that hadn’t happened. He was known a global terrorist, the right-hand to the symbol of fear. His quirk was legendary for all the wrong reasons. How could he possibly be allowed to live on the outside? There was no way the rest of Japan wanted him released, let alone wandering around. What kind of future could he possibly be allowed to dream about? Did he even dare to think about it? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what he might do if he was ever allowed out of the ward from time to time, but now that his impending release seemed like more of a possibility; he was starting to think maybe it was better for everyone – and maybe even himself – if he stayed locked away.
Thankfully, you and your perspective nature had picked up his internal struggle. You’d leaned into him and taken his hand in both of your own, allowing him to breathe again.
“What do you want Touya?”
What did he want? Christ he wasn’t sure.
“I… don’t know. Honestly: I never planned on living this long from the get go. Everything has always been decided for me. I kinda figured that this would be the same.” He had admitted quietly, the gentle pressure of your hands on his own, grounding his rapid thoughts.
“Do you think you’re ready to leave soon?” You’d asked him gently, prompting him to laugh, a bitter, ugly thing, but you hadn’t flinched.
“No.” he’d admitted after a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Dunno if there’s much of a point. I’ll never be free. No matter where I go, I’ll always be a prisoner. What kind of life could I even have outside of here? I don’t know how to live any other way aside from how I’ve been living since I escaped that damn—” he’d cut himself off last minute, reminding himself that you didn’t know about All For One’s hellish medical facility he had woken up in, and he had no plans on telling you about that.
“I just…” he remembered breathing out hard through his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts, focusing on the faint heat he swore he could feel emanating off your hands and leaching into his cold skin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they decide to let me out. Dunno if I can go back to the old house after everything that happened, and I’m not sure if I could bring myself to live with my mom or my siblings after… well, you saw bits of what happened on TV already.”
He hadn’t needed to say it for you to know that he felt a tremendous amount of guilt towards his mother and siblings – especially Fuyumi and Natsuo – for nearly charring them in the heat of battle. He may have held onto so much resentment and anger towards his family for his mistreatment as a child, but he was also self-aware enough to know that it hadn’t been their faults, and they had tried to help him in the only ways they knew how.
You had been quiet as you let him vent to you. You hadn’t said anything for a while afterwards as you mulled over what he’d told you. Finally, you had nudged his shoulder with your own.
“I think that everything you just told me is proof enough that you deserve a chance to have a life outside of these walls.” You admitted. “What you said isn’t something an ‘irredeemable sociopath’ would say. That’s something a self-aware person says. You’re not perfect Touya, but Christ if you’re not trying. I can see it, your mom, sister and brothers see it, and I think a lot of your other doctors are starting to see it too. I think there’s a point, even if you don’t think there is.”
In that moment he’d been convinced that if he could cry, he would’ve been.
“Yeah? Well, thank you sweetheart.” He’d muttered into your hair, fighting hard with himself to try and keep his voice steady. “I have no fucking idea why you’re so nice to me, but it’s… yeah.”
“I think someone needs to treat you like a normal human being, because I don’t think anyone did for a long time.” You’d looked up at him pointedly, but he’d seen traces of something else in your eyes when you’d asked him, “Did they?”
A simple flat look from him had been answer enough for you, and prompted you to squeeze his hand. “Didn’t think so.”
You’d both lapsed into a comfortable silence aside from the steady ticking of the clock, and he’d known without looking up that your time with him was coming to an end. Now, he was dreading it more then he normally would’ve been. You’d spoken up again, but what came out of your mouth next, had shocked him.
“When you’re released… If you’re still unsure of where you want to go afterwards… I could… if you can clear it with the people overseeing your progress once you’re cleared to leave… Maybe… you could come stay with me.”
He remembered staring down at you, shocked. “Is that even allowed?”
You’d shrugged in response. “I’m not sure. I think you’re going to have to initially stay with your family for a while, but if you’re really having a difficult time staying there… maybe I could work something out with your family, as long as it’s approved. It’ll probably take a while, but I can try.”
He had a difficult time allowing what you were implying to sink in. How? How could you be so trusting? To even suggest the idea of someone like him staying with you? Forget if it was even possible or not, the fact you’d even offered in the first place was mind-blowing. Before he could think about what he was saying, he’d voiced his thoughts to you:
“I’m sure your parents would be thrilled, you bringing a villain back to your home.”
You’d simply given him a small smile. “I’m sure they wouldn’t like it… if they were around that is.”
“Oh. They not in the country, or—”
“We’ll go with that.”
Ah. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one with secrets. That was fair, you were allowed to have your own. He wouldn’t pry.
“Sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.”
You’d both fallen back into the same silence from before. You were still leaning on him, his hand trapped in your smaller one, yet he’d made no move to remove it from your grasp. Honestly, he was shocked the guards from before hadn’t barged into the room and forced him away from you. The close proximity must have been violating a rule of some kind, and yet no one had made any move to separate the two of you, Maybe the medical staff really had been as desperate as you’d claimed, and were willing to let some things slide. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.
“You’re a lot colder than I thought you’d be… with your quirk being what it is and all.”
He’d glanced down at you, only to see you staring down at your intertwined hands. You’d squeezed the appendage again, prompting him to respond.
“It’s the quirk suppressors. Haven’t been able to use my quirk since before I got here. The quacks made it so I’m hopped up on suppressors around the clock, just in case. Turns out I’m pretty fucking cold without my flames. Must be from the ice side, but I can’t use that either.”
“Well, maybe if you keep being nice, you won’t have to be on them indefinitely.” You had tried to give him a hopeful smile, but he knew what the likelihood of that happening was, and you must have too, since you didn’t say anything else on the matter.
The timer had sounded then, signaling the visit was over. Before the guard could come to collect you, he’d quickly pulled his arm out of your grasp, and had wrapped it around you tightly, much to your initial surprise. He’d begrudgingly let you go so he could help you stand, sending the guard at the door a pointed look as he’d seen him casting an unsure look between himself and you. You hadn’t been the least bit bothered by the anxious glances the guard was trying to send you as you stood slowly and sent him one of your little smiles he’d come to expect from you.
“You’re coming back?” he’d blurted out before he could stop himself.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.” You’d told him confidently as you’d turned to leave, brushing your knuckles against his. “Don’t worry Touya. I’m not going anywhere.”
For the first time since someone had promised him anything in a very long time, he’d believed you.
In the end, you’d kept your promise.
It had taken close to another year before he was allowed to leave the psychiatric facility (some minor setbacks had pushed his initial release date back), but you had come to see him almost every day at the same time.
Over that time, you’d grown exceptionally close to each other, even more so from when you’d first started visiting him initially. It was almost impossible for him not to grow attached to you – you were his constant source of company, his companion. You were the one person he could tell anything to and not have to worry about being scrutinized for his thoughts. You were his safe space – something he’d never thought he’d ever say about someone else – and once he’d worked out how he saw you; it had been game over. He’d fallen for you fast and hard before he’d realized it, and by the time he did, it’d had been too late. He was hopelessly and utterly drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.
Surprisingly, you’d felt the same as him.
You’d openly admitted it to him one day near the end of his stay at the ward – even at the cost of possibly being prevented from seeing him again, since both of you knew you were crossing boundaries you hadn’t been meant to cross. He’d warned you as such, heart pounding in his ears at your confession, but you’d told him that he’d deserved to know with a simple shrug.
“Besides; if you keep up the good behavior and don’t have any more outbursts, you’ll be out before the end of the year anyways. Even if they don’t let me back after this – you can find me on the outside.” You’d told him matter-of-factly, boldly taking his hand in your own, before sending a shit-eating grin to the cameras set up around the room – knowing the doctors were monitoring every move.
He'd been certain that he could’ve kissed you right there and then.
Surprisingly, the medical staff had allowed you to continue coming back, even though it was apparent both of you cared for each other in ways that crossed professional boundaries. As much as the doctors were against how close the two of you had become, they couldn’t deny how far he had progressed since meeting you. He had gone from being the bitter, angry husk of a man, to someone who was still, and would always be forever scorned by the past, but overall, in a better place mentally.
Not too long after he’d sorted out his own feelings for you, he’d made you a surprising request:
He wanted you to meet his mother and siblings.
The meet up had taken almost a month of careful planning on the medical staff’s end, and had initially been met with some hesitation on both sides, but eventually you had agreed to it, and you’d sat down with him and the members of his family who he kept in contact with.
His father hadn’t been invited for obvious reasons.
The medical staff had allowed him out of his normal room so he could meet with you and his mother and siblings in one of the spacious sitting rooms normally reserved for guests. A row of floor to ceiling windows lined the far wall, allowing him to get a view of the outside gardens. He remembered the outside weather was slightly overcast that day but warm rays of sunshine would occasionally stream through the gray clouds, as you and his family slowly met with one another under his watchful gaze.
His mother had taken to you almost immediately, as well as Natsuo – both seemingly happy he’d bonded with someone who was relatively normal – Fuyumi and Shoto had taken a little more convincing. Shoto was more curious of you, while Fuyumi had been downright distrustful. She’d asked you right off the bat what your intensions were with him, but he’d seen right through her: she was concerned that you were somehow affiliated with the now disbanded League, or maybe even the Paranormal Liberation Front.
Thankfully, you weren’t so easily put off by her upfront questioning. You had been calm, almost amused, as you answered her questions; reassuring her that you were in no way affiliated with any criminal organizations, and how you were someone who’d been presented with an opportunity to help with his rehabilitation, and had taken a leap of faith when no one else would.
“Why though?” he remembered his sister pressing you. “Why would you want to help him even after knowing everything he’s done?”
You and him had shared a look then, and he’d known what you were thinking before you said anything.
“I guess I wanted to understand why things went so wrong.” You’d told her honestly, your shoulder brushing with his as you spoke. “I wanted to get his side of the story – the unscripted one. When the chance to talk to him in person came up, I took it. Everyone deserves to have their story told, and I wanted to hear his.”
“You’re a lot closer than just a support person to him.” Fuyumi had countered, making him bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her to back off with her invasive questioning, knowing that he’d only land himself in trouble with the medical staff overseeing their visit if he had any outbursts.
To your credit, you’d simply shrugged, totally unbothered by her statement. “Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you see someone basically every day for over a year. Same time, same place. For as clueless as he is at normal relationships, your brother can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”
He’d been pretty sure the only reason you were outright lying to his sister was to try and make him look better in her eyes, but he almost hadn’t been able to stop the laugh that threatened to escape past his lips. Almost.
His sister had almost deflated then. Whether it was from disappointment in being unable to shake you, or relief, she’d simply nodded; finally accepting your answers.
“Well… if he’s happy… then that’s all any of us really need, I guess.”
The rest of the visitation had gone incredibly well, not that he was complaining. Plans for future meetings had been put in place, and from there, you and him had gotten into a semi-regular routine of seeing his mother and siblings, or whoever was available to come.
He never wanted to admit it to you, but the visitations you helped arrange with his family made his transition from the psychiatric hospital to his eventually moving into his mother’s new house after he’d been cleared for release, far smoother than he thought it would’ve been.
Eventually though, he was proven right about his earlier assumptions on living with his family – or rather – his mother and his siblings, again after so long:
He couldn’t do it. It felt almost wrong.
He’d felt like a ghost, wandering up and down the halls, looking at the pictures that lined the hallways of his mother’s house; comprised largely of his younger siblings. He’d watched as they had slowly grown up in each one, filling him with sense of melancholy.
He’d missed the opportunity to watch them grow up. They’d done that without him. That was time he couldn’t get back – memories that weren’t there.
He’d felt isolated, and no amount of comfort or reassurance from his mother could change that deep-rooted feeling in him. Not even Natsuo’s constant presence in the home made him feel better, much to his younger brother’s disappointment, though thankfully he understood.
He’d lasted two months before he’d finally cracked and called your number which you’d given him immediately after he was released. You’d both stayed in contact, texting every day (under strict monetization from police tech sectors), but you hadn’t been able to see him in person since he’d gotten out, as you’d both agreed that it would be better if he focused on trying to settle into his new home. He’d missed you terribly during that period – not used to not seeing you for such a long period of time.
He'd called you in the dead of night, and asked if your offer to have him come stay with you was still open. From there, you’d gotten in contact with the authorities in charge of his release to try and gain permission for him to come live with you, while he had the difficult task of trying to explain to his family why he couldn’t stay with them any longer than he’d already had.
As expected, you’d been met with resistance on both sides, but eventually his overseers had come to an agreement: he would be allowed to live with you, but he always had to have a tracking monitor on at all times, he had to be on constant quirk suppressors, he couldn’t leave your building without you and a Pro hero escort of some kind, and finally, he had to attend mandatory therapy sessions at least once a week, as well as call his probation officer weekly and give them updates about what he was doing. If he failed to meet any of the rules set out for him; he’d earn himself a one-way ticket to Tartarus, no questions asked.
As much as he’d wanted to argue some of what they wanted from him, he’d agreed to their stipulations, knowing full-well unless he agreed to their terms, he’d be stuck at his mother’s for the rest of his life, and while he didn’t hate living with her and his siblings, it was too awkward for him to try and face them every day, knowing his past atrocities towards the rest of the country and even them, would continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.
He couldn’t pretend that he was still the same person he was when he’d burned up at the tender age of thirteen. He was different, older, harder. Things would never be able to go back to what they’d once been, and honestly: he didn’t want them to. He couldn’t go back to living with them after such a long time apart, because he had no idea how to co-exist with them normally.
Thankfully, as much as he knew it hurt his mother to hear him express his innermost thoughts, she seemed to understand how he felt the most, and had simply told him that he was always welcome in her home, and she still wanted him to come stay with her from time to time.
“You’re my son Touya. No matter how old you get or no matter what you do, you’ll always be my baby.” She’d told him gently just before he’d left her house, wrapping him into a tight hug.
Sometimes he found himself grateful he couldn’t cry anymore. He’d just wished this side of his mother had been more prominent over ten years ago. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently if it had.
He’d seen you then for the first time in several months when you’d come to pick him up. He’d managed to keep himself calm while you spoke to his mother, but secretly he was elated to see you again after months apart. His excitement over seeing you again had probably shown on his face, since you’d made it a point to keep yourself close to him as his brothers had moved his important possessions into your car.
It was as you were talking to his mother; he’d learned that you had moved to a new apartment building some weeks ago, following the news that one of Japan’s former most wanted was coming to stay with you. Naturally, the people in your old building hadn’t been pleased, so you’d forced to switch buildings to an apartment located near several hero agencies, where the residents hadn’t been as concerned about an ex-super villain moving in, due to the multitude of patrolling heroes in the area. The change had been frustrating for you, but it was the only way he’d be able to stay with you without anyone kicking up too much of a fuss.
Eventually you’d both been on your way back to your apartment with Shoto in tow to help with moving his things into your apartment. Your new place wasn’t massive, but it had two bedrooms and a decently sized living room and kitchen. Shoto had helped him set his things up in the spare bedroom before departing, but not before giving you his number with instructions to call him if you ever needed help.
As soon as the door had shut, he’d been on you.
He’d slammed you up against the door, causing a started yelp to escape your lips, as he grinned down at you wolfishly.
“What’s the matter sweetheart? Nervous? It’s not like we haven’t been this close before.”
You’d turned beet red as you shyly traced your fingers up his chest. “No, but we certainly haven’t done this.”
He’d grinned as he dipped his head down so you and him were eye to eye. “Tell me no then. Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t feel the same as me.”
He’d listened to your breath hitch, watching with delight as the flush deepened on your cheeks. “You wanted me to talk right? To be open with you about how I’m feeling? Well, I want you, and I think you want me too.”
You’d looked up at him through your lashes, reaching up to lace your hand around his neck. “I do.” You’d told him gently, and your simple admission had made up his mind.
“Fuck.” He’d muttered, just before he’d dipped down and captured your lips with his.
The effect had been instantiations. His lips molded with yours, breathing in your air, as his hand cupped your cheek, long fingers curling around the back of your neck to keep you close to him.
You’d slowly peeled yourself off the door and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling him with you further into the apartment, and into your bedroom. You’d managed to slam your door shut, just before he’d pushed you onto your bed – his lips never leaving yours as he pressed you further into the mattress.
He couldn’t keep his hands off you as you helped him take your clothes off. He could touch you, really touch you the way he’d wanted to for so long now. Nothing was there to hold him back, no cameras, no guards, no medical staff dictating his every move. It was just you and him.
He’d almost froze when he’d seen you’d laid out bare beneath him, soft and glowing against the pale sunshine streaming in from your bedroom window, warming your frame. You’d beamed up at him, tracing your hands up his arms.
“You can touch me.” You’d told him gently. “I trust you. Just be gentle.”
Gentle. Now that was a word he was certain he didn’t have in his vocabulary – but for you, he’d try.
He’d traced your curves gently, listening intently as your breath hitched, or how a small moan would escape past your lips when he touched a particularly sensitive area. Finally, you’d reached up to tug at the hem of his shirt, but he’d grabbed at your hands, making you pause.
“It’s not… I’m not… the scars… aren’t much better under there.” He’d tried to warn you. You’d given him a gentle smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands.
“I don’t mind Touya. You know I don’t care about all that.” You’d smoothed your thumbs over the raised skin of his face. “I love you for you. Regardless of what you look like.”
Love. You… you loved him, didn’t you? Even after everything he’d done while he was an active criminal – you’d somehow grown to love him, while most of the world hated him.
He didn’t necessarily think he was deserving of your love, but hell if he was ever going to point that out to you. He’d almost been tempted to ask you if you were a little bit crazy yourself, but you’d even told him when you had first met that he’d have to find that out for himself.
Maybe you were – just a little bit – but that suited him fine.
A normal girl would never have been able to handle him anyways.
He’d allowed you to help him out of his clothes then, and to your credit, you hadn’t batted an eye at the less than perfect skin covering his body. He may not have been held together by surgical staples anymore, and his body may not have been a mess of burnt patchwork skin like it used to be, but the new skin grafts were raised and patchy – never fully settling properly. It wasn’t often that he got self-conscience about how he looked, but you were different.
You had run your hands up and down the length of his body and marveled him like he was some work of art. He didn’t think he was, but you clearly saw him differently. You’d kissed his marred skin, and if he’d been able to cry, he would have.
You had pulled him down onto your bed and climbed on top of him, much to his surprise. He’d tried to prop himself up, only for you to gently push him back down onto your mattress, giving him a knowing smile all the while.
“Let me take care of you.” You’d whispered to him softly. “We’ll go slow. Gentle. It’s just me and you now.”
It wasn’t like he’d never fucked someone before, but it had been a while, and it was just that: he’d fucked, never loved. He wasn’t sure if he knew any other way when it came to sex, but he knew that he didn’t want to be rough with you like he’d been with his past flings, and so he had relinquished control to you.
He had allowed himself to relax into the mattress as you’d hovered above him, lining him up with your entrance. He was already painfully hard, his body reacting to yours as soon as he’d kissed you. You’d bent down to kiss his throat, relishing how he’d let out a shuddering breath as you’d sunk down onto him. He’d cursed as your tight heat had enveloped him, leaving him boneless and shaking.
He’d brought your face down to his to kiss you as you started moving, moaning as you slowly moved up and down on his shaft. You’d knocked the breath out of his lungs as you whimpered against his lips, still moving your hips against his own.
“Shit.” He’d growled as he’d reached up to wrap an arm around your hips. “Fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so good for me.”
“You feel so good.” You’d sobbed. “I want you – want to make you feel good.”
“You do. Fuck you do. I want you. I need you.” He’d grunted as he planted his feet into your bed, pistoning his hips up into your body.
“Fuck.” You’d cried out, as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Touya!”
“I’m here. Fuck I’m here, with you. I love you.”
He’d remembered your eyes blowing wide at his confession, just before your body had stiffened up, and your mouth had opened up into a silent scream, as your orgasm had ripped through you – your end triggering his own.
You’d both stayed there for a moment, trying to regain your breath, before you’d slowly separated yourself from him. He hadn’t let you go far – pulling you down to lay beside him, and wrapping himself around you as you nestled into the broad expanse of his chest.
“Stay.” He had rasped as he held you close to him, curling around your smaller frame protectively. He’d known what he was saying was nonsensical – he was in your apartment, you weren’t going anywhere, not really – but thankfully, you seemed to understand what he was trying to say without him outright telling you. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere Touya.” You’d breathed, placing a kiss on the side of his temple. “You’re home now. With me.”
That simple sentence had brought him more comfort than he’d experienced in recent memory. He’d passed out sometime after with you still nude and curled into him, sharing in his warmth.
That had been the best sleep he’d had in years.
After that, he’d fallen into a steady routine of normalcy with you. You’d go to work, while he’d keep himself entertained during the day. Normally, he’d open up the windows in your living room and perch himself on the couch near them, soaking up the feeling of gentle sunbeams on his face, and watching the outside world go by as he waited for you to return later in the evening. You had set up therapy appointments for him every Thursday, and either you or Shoto would take him depending on your schedules. Life settled down, and the outside world continued on around him, even though his world now consisted of your apartment and what he could see outside from your windows.
It wasn’t a coincidence that three pro heroes moved into the building roughly a month after he had moved the last of his menial things into your apartment.
He couldn’t say that he was surprised by the less then subtle way the newly reformed hero commission chose to keep an annoyingly close watch on him, but he was still allowed some freedoms with you, so he figured he could keep his jabs to himself for the time being.
All and all, life with you was simple easy. For the first time in his life, he could say he was appreciating the little things he never could’ve before his life had turned into a living hell.
For the first time in a very long time, he had hope – something he’d never allowed himself to have before, because what had been the point? He had fully planned on taking himself out in the final fight against Endeavor… but life was strange, and it turned out that it had different plans for him.
While he couldn’t be sure what those plans were yet, they had brought you to him, and that was enough.
He had you, and in the end, that’s all that really mattered—
-----
The sound of one of his skin care products hitting the floor snaps him out of his reprieve. He blinks, and once again, he is standing in your bathroom with the sink running, halfway through the skin maintenance routine that you forced on him once he came to live with you.
He swears under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the plastic tube with his right arm, only to freeze as he suddenly remembers:
His right arm is gone. He tore it clean off in the brawl against his dad.
He finds it surprising how often he forgets he doesn’t have both his hands anymore. Half the time he swears that his right arm is still intact because he can feel the damn thing, only to look down and see it’s still gone from mid bicep down. You once called it a ‘phantom limb’ and he thinks you might be onto something with how often he’ll go to do something with his right, only to remind himself the arm doesn’t exist anymore.
It doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Natsuo had offered to set him up an appointment to get him fitted for a prosthetic, but he hadn’t made up his mind on it yet – finding most things pretty manageable even with the lack of his right arm – but he does have days where he wishes he had all of his limbs, and there are certain tasks were having two hands would be more useful than one.
His extensive skin care routine is one of those tasks.
Hilariously, it was one of the conditions of him coming to stay with you initially: for the first time in his life, he was being forced to look after himself.
He had protested initially when you had come back home one day with a plethora of different specialty products for sensitive skin – not seeing the point – but you had insisted that he use them to take care of the newer skin grafts, telling him that if he wanted to continue to stay with you, he’d have to start properly taking care of himself, or you would do it for him.
He had begrudgingly accepted, and he gradually incorporated it into his daily routine. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have much to complain about: he didn’t have many responsibilities as it was, and you had promised him if he kept up with it, you wouldn’t tell his parole officer that you weren’t forcing him take his quirk suppressor medication – one of the conditions of his release.
He grins inwardly to himself as he turns the sink off and pats his face dry. You hadn’t seen the need to enforce that particular rule, seeing how you were quite confident he wasn’t going to burn down your apartment building, and he didn’t have any plans to – lest he be forced to return back to his mother’s home.
Besides, after spending over a year feeling unnaturally cold without his quirk, he was in no rush to return to the weak, powerless state the psychiatric ward had left him in. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk to it’s full, destructive potential like he used to, just knowing that he still had use of his quirk intact was a comfort to him.
He makes his way out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and, pads over to his side of your shared closet, stripping out of his sleep clothes and pulling on a loose shirt and baggy sweats, before heading out into the small living room.
If his younger self could see how he lives now, he’s sure he would’ve turned his nose up in disgust before calling him a sell-out, and a gnarled part of him still thinks that to some level, however; when he thinks back to how he used to live on the streets for close to a decade, he’ll take the easy, comfy life-style you allow him to live in your home in a heart-beat.
He used to wonder about where he would get his next meal – now his biggest inconvenience is that he’s bored whenever you’re not at home. How the times change.
He turns on the T.V. and sets it to a low volume as he moves into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a few miscellaneous items and setting them on the counter, before getting to work on prepping the food.
He doesn’t eat much, even now his metabolism is still messed up from the years of cumulative damage his body sustained, but he found himself making food for you when he first moved into your apartment as a way to keep himself occupied while you were at work. Most of his cooking attempts consist of cup noodles, and whatever else was easy to make, but every once in a while, he’d put a bit more effort into what he made, so long as you had the ingredients for it.
He curses to himself as he painstakingly prepares an easy meal of miso soup and yaki, his lack of a right arm slowing down his progress. Eventually he finishes his meal prep and puts his creation away as he waits for you to come home, moving to his usual spot by the window on your living room couch, before sitting down and indulging in some mindless reality T.V. show.
He watches the show absentmindedly, barely paying attention to what’s playing on the screen as he basks in the warm sunlight streaming in from outside. He glances over to his left to see his reflection staring back at him from a hanging mirror across the room, and has to fight the urge to flinch at what’s staring back at him.
Even after all of the love and tenderness you allowed him to experience while living with you, he still looked rough, and there were days where he felt it more than others. He may not have been able to feel pain in the normal sense, but his body aches constantly and there are additional issues he deals with daily.
He’s painfully aware that he probably doesn’t have a lot of time on the earth. He’s in his late twenties, too damn early to be faced with his own mortality, but he knows there’s no use in trying to dance around the subject. With his body being what it is, he’d be surprised if he made it to fifty, but he knows better than to voice that out loud. The one-time he had confessed his inner thoughts to you, you had damn near burst into tears, and he found that he couldn’t stand to see you like that, so he keeps his morbid thoughts to himself.
The sound of the apartment door opening snaps him out of his depressing reprieve. He looks up, only to see you closing the door to the apartment, hanging your keys up and kicking your shoes off. He gets up off the couch and pads over to you, greeting you with a little smile.
“You’re home early.”
You turn around to face him, smiling. “Yeah, I finished early today. Figured I’d come back and see what you were up to.”
He snorts as he takes your bag from you, setting it down on the small bench you had set up near your front door. “Not much, you know that. S’not like I can leave the building without you or Shoto escorting me.”
You roll your eyes, gracing him with a teasing smile. “How is he anyways? You talked to your family at all recently?”
He shrugs. “Not really. You know my phone usage is heavily monitored anyways.”
“I told them that – your mom reached out to me recently – she was hoping to meet up with you for lunch soon, and she hadn’t heard from you in a bit.”
“Ah. I don’t look at my phone very often. Tell her that I’m down. I’ll reach out at some point.” He nods towards the kitchen. “I made dinner.”
You beam at him. “You didn’t have to do that.” You lean in to press a kiss to the rough skin of his cheek, and he feels his heart speed up in his chest. Even though the physical affection you gave him isn’t anything new, it’s still amazing how much of an effect you had on him.
The fire that he keeps buried in his chest flares to life as you turned away from him briefly, but he doesn’t let you go far. He snakes an arm around your middle, pulling you back to him, causing you to look up at him.
“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles quietly into your hair. You simply wrap your arms around his torso and snuggle into his chest.
“Missed you too.” You tell him quietly. He swallowed thickly, as he allowed his hand to splay further down your back.
“I really missed you; I mean.”
You smile up at him gently, wiggling your eyebrows. “Did you now?”
“Mmmm.”
His hummed response causes your grin to grow wider. “Wanna show me?”
He doesn’t humor you with a response – instead opting to take you by the hand and lead you towards your shared bedroom with teasing grin of his own. He allows you to kick the door closed behind you, before dipping down to bite on the skin of your neck, causing a giggle to escape your lips as his hands wander up and down your frame.
“Off.” He grunts, tugging on your clothes. You smirk at his demand, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get him to look at you.
“I think you could ask me a bit nicer, right?”
He rolls his eyes at you. “Please.”
“That’s better.” You smile sweetly at him, separating yourself from him long enough to shimmy out of your pants and strip out of your shirt, leaving you in your bra and panties before him.
He kisses the back of his teeth as he closes the distance between you, wrapping a muscular arm around you as he captures your lips with his rough ones. He feels you sigh into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.
It wasn’t often that he initiated physical contact like this – he not shy by any means, but he’s not used to having such close relations with another person. He’d been a loner for such a long time after escaping the hospital, and any physical contact he somehow managed to receive from woman he’d met in sketchy bars during those miserable years had never been meaningful or fulfilling. He wasn’t used to being wanted.
But you wanted him, and you weren’t shy about letting him know just that.
He had no problems letting you remind him of the latter.
He feels your hands travel down from around his neck to the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it. “Off please.” You murmur against his lips, and he separates from you long enough to yank his shirt off, before coming back to embrace your soft body with his own hot one.
He presses you back against the bed, gently pushing you down to lay on the mattress as he hovered above you. He dips back down to seal his lips with yours, as he feels your fingertips trail down the rough skin of his stomach until they reached the waistband of his sweats. He smirks as he feels you undo the drawstrings and push them down his slender hips, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free.
“Seems like you’re just as eager as me.” He sniggers as he sits up long enough to shuck them off, giving you a moment to unhook your bra and toss it across the room.
You don’t humor him with a response as you sit up to stroke his cock, causing him to hiss as your fingers wrap around his shaft. He lets you have your way for a moment before gently pushing you back down onto the mattress, causing you to look up at him quizzically as he shakes his head.
“Not today babe, let me do the work.”
He feels his heart pound in his ribcage, as a look of realization passes over your pretty features. A smile pulls at your lips as you open your arms and beckons him down to you, which he eagerly accepts. He nips and kisses the skin of your neck as he makes quick work of your panties, causing you to moan softly as he runs his fingers up the length of your dripping slit.
“God.” He groans as he attacks your lips again. “So, fucking wet for me. You want me, right?”
“Yes Touya.” You breathe against his lips, allowing your fingers to trace patterns into the scarred expanse of his back. “Always. Always you.”
He feels his destroyed tear ducts sting slightly at the sincerity of your confession. Even though you’ve assured him you only want him countless times before, it was something he never quite got used to hearing.
The entirety of his life before you was spent in fire and hardship. Kindness was something foreign to him, and being allowed to be vulnerable with another person was something he never even considered. He never thought he’d live long enough to be able to do so regardless – accepting that he destined to spend what was left of his life alone – and so the thought had never crossed his mind.
But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Not since you had unexpectedly come into his life.
He had you. Body, mind and soul, he belonged to you. He knew there was no way he would ever have the words to tell you that, so he hoped that he could convey his message clearly enough by showing you just how much you meant to him.
He taps your leg, getting you to wrap your legs around his lean waist, as he lines himself up with your opening. You thread your fingers through his soft white spikes as he slowly begins to push himself into your pussy, causing you to whimper as he begins to stretch your walls out.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls as he bullies his way into your tight heat. “You’re perfect for me. Just you – you’re the only one I want.”
“Me too.” You gasp as you dig your nails into his shoulder to ground yourself. “I’m so glad I got to meet you. S-so glad you’re here with me—”
Your eyes open impossibly, as he suddenly snaps his hips forward and drives himself home deep inside your walls, causing you both to moan. He barely gives you any time to recover before he starts moving. He fists his hand in the sheets beside your head as he focuses his energy into keeping his thrusts deep and strong, just how he knows you like it.
He grins down at you almost sadistically, watching as your eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. “S’matter? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”
“N-no.” you moan as he gives you a particularly hard thrust. “I just—oh, fuck!” you wail as you feel him hit a practically sensitive spot inside you, causing him to grin wickedly.
“Eyes on me gorgeous.”
“You’re mean.” You huff, but center your attention on him regardless, causing him to chuckle, and reward you with another harsh thrust.
“I know.” He practically purrs as he shifts his weight to his knees. He grabs the meat of your hip, and starts pounding you harder than before, making you keen and fist your hands into the sheets as his pelvis brushes up against your clit deliciously.
“Fuck, Touya! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, warning him of your impending release, but it only makes him double down and fuck you harder, determined to see you climax before him.
“Yeah? Well, go ahead sweetheart: come on this cock. C’mon, c’mon; I know you’re going to, I can feel you squeezing me just right, so do it. Let go for me pretty girl, just let go.”
He feels your walls convulse around him and your back arches slightly off the bed as you climax with a desperate cry at his words. The sight of you coming undone beneath him is so hot it does him in a few strokes later, spilling deep inside your walls with a feral growl of his own.
You both stay like that for a few minutes, fighting to catch your breaths, before you unlock your legs from around his waist, allowing him to pull out of you. He pulls back to grin at the combination of your fluids that leak out from in between your legs, and you roll your eyes. He makes a move to the bathroom to grab you a towel, only for you to shake your head.
“Later.” You murmur, as you pat the spot on the bed next to you. “Come lie with me for a few minutes.”
He laughs quietly at your antics, but obliges your request, and climbs over you to collapse into the vacant space on the bed next to you, and you don’t hesitate to move over to him.
“God, you can be relentless sometimes.” You pant as you curl up into his side. He simply snorts at your assessment as he drapes his arm around you protectively.
“Maybe. I am a villain after all sweetheart.”
“You were.” You manage to grumble as you make yourself comfortable, eventually settling on resting your head on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat. “You’re not now.”
“Yeah, well. Attitude never changed. Surprised you put up with me for as long as you did.”
“You weren’t so bad.” You murmur softly, tracing shapes into the rough skin of his stomach. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have come back after we first met.”
“Why did you come back after the first time anyways? I can’t remember if you ever told me.” He suddenly raises his head so he’s looking at you. You meet his blazing turquoise irises with a calm gaze of your own and wink at him teasingly.
“I’m crazy remember?”
“Must be, if you came to see one of Japan’s most wanted almost every day for damn near two years straight. But seriously, why?”
You’re quiet for a moment before you answer him. When you do, you shift your head slightly on his chest so you can see his face better.
“I suppose it’s because all your rage… all your anger towards the injustice of everything you’d gone through up until that point… it reminded me of myself, in a way.” You admit softly, causing him to quirk a snowy brow at your confession.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things you said on your initial broadcast—" you continue on before he can ask. “—like how there were a lot of shitty things about hero society you weren’t wrong about. Honestly, for a long time there, I felt just as pissed off with some of those so-called “Pro’s” as you. Some of them were only doing it for the money and fame, you could tell.” You exhale through your nose.
“But, on the other hand, there were so many good things happening to change those problems that you didn’t see because you were on the outsider.” You fall silent for a moment before adding:
“You just seemed so hurt, so raw with everything you were saying. I told myself there and then, if I ever got the opportunity to meet you, I’d show you not everything is as bad as it seemed. Never thought I’d get the chance honestly, and yet, one day, the opportunity to meet you face to face practically dropped into my lap. How could I not take the offer?”
“Was I what you’d thought I’d be?” he finds himself asking you, not completely sure if he wants to know the answer. You simply send him one of your glowing smiles that sends tingles down to his stomach.
“No, you were better.”
He snorts, shifting his arm so he’s tracing his warm fingertips up and down your nude body. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I’m serious. Even now, you’re doing so much better with handling everything then I thought you would. You’re resilient, and you adapt when you need to, but you’ve definitely changed… in a good way. You’re not as hateful anymore… you’re calmer, more accepting.”
“Yeah well, the shrinks have you to thank for that. Far as I’m concerned, they don’t do anything. I just see them so I can stay with you.” He grumbles, prompting you to giggle, before shifting you so you’re lying on your sides, facing each other.
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, inwardly softening as he watches you lean into his warm touch, before dropping his hand back down in between your bodies.
“I know I’m not very good at these sorts of things, but… you know I love you, right?”
He’s hopeful that you understand. He doesn’t say it often to you, and he knows he probably should, but even after all the time he’s spent with you, that involves you showing him what a healthy relationship looks like, it’s still not an easy thing for him to say. Hell, he has a hard enough time saying it to his own mother, let alone anyone else.
He’ll probably always have a difficult time admitting it. Love is an emotion he’s never had a good understanding of, seeing how it was so sked for him a s a child. Even now, the concept is a foreign one for him to understand, but thankfully, you seem to be more aware of this than anyone else.
You find his hand with one of your own and lace your fingers together, squeezing it tightly.
“I know Touya. I’ve always known.”
FIN
#dabi#touya todoroki#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#touya x reader#touya x y/n#touya x you#post war!au#mha x reader#bnha x reader#dabi x reader smut#touya todoroki x reader smut#tw: mental health#see a03 for more detailed tags
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Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.
story time:
so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.
and we all became very good friends!
and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."
and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."
i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.
jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.
actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.
when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.
so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.
even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.
so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.
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